“You’ve not run from my bed in horror,” Jos said finally.
“No, why would I?” Evelyn replied, wondering if such a thing had happened to Jos in the past.
“I don’t know. I suppose I was frightened that in the light of day you’d feel differently. Or that you’d suddenly realise what you’d done and decide it was a step too far.”
Evelyn twisted and sat up so she could look at Jos properly. The sheets droped to reveal her naked shoulders and she had a moment of feeling vulnerable, until looking into Jos’s face made her safe and confident. “I actually wish I could just stay here with you today. I don’t want to go anywhere.”
Jos looked relieved and then smiled a more lascivious smile. “Oh, you’d like a repeat of last night, would you?” She raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Of course I would.” Evelyn paused to consider. “I never knew, I really never knew…”
“Why would you?”
“But it terrifies me to think that I could’ve gone through my whole life not knowing what it could be like. I could’ve never felt what I did last night, or what I do right now.”
Jos’s face grew more serious. “But now you do know, Evie. You don’t have to be frightened of anything.”
“Not with you here,” Evelyn replied. As long as Jos was with her, she could achieve anything.
“No, Evie. Don’t depend on me or anyone else. Just live your life.”
“I am doing,” Evelyn replied, unavoidably thinking of Edward’s words all those years ago, of her promise. She smiled to herself, thinking that this last adventure was one she would not tell her brother about. “I’m flying.”
“Like a bird?” Jos asked, apparently not quite following Evelyn’s thoughts.
“No,” Evelyn said. “Like a butterfly. Like my brooch, the one you returned to me that first night. I was wearing it because of something my brother and I talked about once. About being free to fly.”
“And you are, Evie. To fly on beautiful wings.”
Evelyn smiled. “They’re fragile wings too.” Her unpleasant dream came back to her. “I don’t know that it’s a good analogy sometimes. A butterfly is so delicate, its life so fleeting.”
“Each butterfly lives a whole lifetime. A life of flying into the sky, drinking the nectar of myriads of flowers, drifting on the breeze. A rainbow of colour.”
“I felt fragile on my own. But with you, it’s different,” Evelyn said. It was true. However much her confidence had grown during her time in London, she was still feeling a precarious loneliness, the lack of a real confidante. Now she had found Jos and surely she could now depend on her. It would be impossible to have shared what they had and not to continue that bond. Wouldn’t it? Suzanne Flint’s warning about Jos came back to her, countered by Clara’s reassurance. A slight shadow had come over Jos’s face, but their fingers were still entwined and warm together.
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re only strong because of what you’re sharing with me,” Jos said. There was a real insistence in her tone. “Your life is yours and you never know what might happen. You have your own wings and I don’t think they’re really so fragile.”
Evelyn was quiet, unsure if Jos was trying to reassure her or hint that she could not rely on Jos, even if she wanted to. “I know that,” she said in the end.
Jos must have sensed her slight confusion, since she reached out for Evelyn, drew her close, and dispelled all the doubts with a long kiss. Evelyn melted into the kiss, into Jos, as she felt Jos’s hands slide over the curves of her body. In the end, the moment, this moment, was more important than any worry about the future.
*
As it turned nine o’clock, Jos walked Evelyn back to the Graingers’ house. She did not want to but there was really no way to avoid it any longer. She had to be at the theatre by late morning and Evelyn really needed to return to what was, for now, her home. For Evelyn’s sake, she was hoping Lilian hadn’t missed her.
Walking around Berkeley Square, they passed a well-dressed young couple strolling hand in hand. Jos looked at them with some sadness. She wanted nothing more than to reach out for Evelyn’s hand, walk with her as her lover should. Yes, walking arm in arm was acceptable and passable, but linking hands in a way that suggested romance was a little too much of a risk. She did not care for herself, of course. Her reputation was well-known. But she did not want to prompt any kind of speculation about Evelyn. She suspected Evelyn herself had not even begun to contemplate the consequences of her desire for her own sex. It would be a hard lesson and Jos almost regretted waking that urge in Evelyn. But it was impossible to really regret helping her be true to herself, whatever the cost. In Jos’s book, honesty with yourself was more important than nearly anything else.
As they approached Hays Mews and Lilian and James’s house, Jos came to a stop.
“It’s just down here,” Evelyn said, clearly not understanding why they’d stopped.
“I know where they live,” Jos said. “Not that I make a habit of visiting Lilian and James but I have had cause to call on them on one or two occasions. I’ve stopped because I can’t walk you to the door.”
“Why ever not?” Evelyn asked, looking bewildered.
“I don’t know if they’ll have missed you or not, but it’s not going to be very helpful to you if I walk you to the door. Since they know you were with me yesterday.” Jos knew Evelyn would not easily understand her.
“But I have been with you. If they ask where I’ve been, I was going to tell them.” Even as she said it, Evelyn’s voice betrayed that she’d not really considered what she was going to say to Lilian until now.
Jos watched realisation dawn.
“I suppose I can’t just do that though, can I?”
“You could. But I would prefer that you didn’t, for my own sake.” Jos did not want to find herself suddenly labelled as the corrupter of the innocent, not at this early stage. Nor did she feel like inciting Lilian’s wrath and judgement while Lilian was still entangled with Vernon. “I wouldn’t ask you to keep it a secret just for me though. It’s for your own sake too. I know you’re not used to this, Evie, but you do have to be careful who you tell about things like this. Lilian won’t understand, and do you think James is any more likely to?”
Evelyn suddenly looked quite scared and Jos felt a deep concern for her, almost a regret that she’d brought such complexities into Evelyn’s life.
“You’re right,” Evelyn said. “I can’t tell them. Lilian would hate me. And I think James would probably tell me to leave his house.”
“I’m sorry, Evie,” Jos said, angry that any duplicity was needed.
“It’s not your fault.” Evelyn took Jos’s arm. “And if you’re worried, I don’t regret what we’ve done just because I can’t be honest with Lilian and James.”
Jos breathed a sigh of relief that Evelyn had volunteered those words, without Jos having to ask. “Thank you, Evie. I’d hate for you to regret it. But what will you say if they’ve noticed you didn’t come home last night?”
Evelyn thought for a moment. “Well, surely I can say that we took tea with some friends of yours and then I felt a little unwell, so they allowed me to stay for the night instead of having to travel home.”
Jos considered this. It was an unlikely story and one Lilian would most likely not believe. However, she did not think that Lilian would suspect the truth either, so it was a good enough excuse. Perhaps it would do Evelyn good in Lilian’s eyes to have a little mystery about her. “I think that will be good enough,” she said. “If she asks which friends, tell her Sarah and Suzanne Flint. She knows of them, though they’ve only met very briefly. But because they’re sisters, it won’t seem like I’ve been taking you to gatherings where you might be corrupted. She wouldn’t approve if you said it was Clara and Courtney.”
“Very well,” Evelyn said. “It seems silly to have to do this so we don’t annoy Lilian though.”
Jos understood that sentiment all too wel
l. “It’s not really about whether Lilian’s annoyed. It’s more about what she thinks of you—and me—especially since you’re living here at the moment.” There was something else too. She still did not trust that this would become any kind of long-term relationship. She was certainly not ready to commit to that herself. Telling anyone what had happened between them would tie her into something with Evelyn. Much as Evelyn delighted her, aroused her, made her heart leap with happiness, she did not dare trust that it would last, did not dare make that decision yet. Telling people would not help her remove herself from the situation should it not work out. She did not want to tell Evelyn this, of course. It was already plain that Evelyn expected more. Jos wanted more too but did not want to do anything that made it inevitable, just in case.
“I do understand,” Evelyn said, looking worried as she watched Jos’s expression. “Please don’t think I mind. If it means we can be this way with each other, I’d lie to anyone I had to.”
Jos smiled a bitter smile. “I know, Evie. I just wish you didn’t have to. Now, you better get inside.”
“When will we see each other again?” Evelyn asked.
“I don’t know. What are you doing at Christmas?” She watched the shadow pass over Evelyn’s face and knew the mention of Christmas had brought on a thought of home. She did not want Evelyn to be alone at Christmas, she realised.
“Well, Lilian and James are going to their family, out in the country somewhere. She invited me but I said I would feel a little strange intruding on it, and actually I’d rather be on my own, to write to my family.”
Jos could hear a heartbreaking sadness in Evelyn’s words and knew that, however brave Evelyn seemed, however well adapted to this life in London, thoughts of home and what she had left behind were still heavy on her shoulders. “Oh, well, if that’s what you want to do—”
“It’s not really,” Evelyn interjected. “I mean, it is, I do want to write to my brother and my parents. But I don’t want to be on my own all day. I just told Lilian that because I didn’t want to have to go with them. I’d have hated it, I think.” She looked expectantly at Jos, clearly awaiting an invitation but not liking to presume.
“In that case, would you like to come to my flat? I can’t promise anything spectacular, but some friends will be coming around—no one you need to worry about—and possibly Vernon too.”
“Vernon?” Evelyn looked dubious.
“He’s all right, you know, Evie.” Jos totally understood why Evelyn might have her doubts about her brother. “I know he’s involved with Lilian but he doesn’t really tell her anything, not if I know my brother. And he’s a more honourable man than you’d expect.”
“Of course,” Evelyn said.
“And if he’s been flirting with you, he’ll soon stop when he sees you’re with me,” Jos concluded, knowingly.
Evelyn smiled an acknowledgement. “In that case, yes, I would love to spend some of Christmas with you.”
Jos tried to stop a stupid grin spreading over her face. “I’ll look forward to it very much,” she said. “If you can find your way, come at whatever time you are ready.” Then she leaned in and kissed Evelyn lightly on the cheek. “Perhaps you’ll spend Christmas night with me too,” she said softly.
Evelyn looked back at her with desire in her eyes. “Yes,” she breathed.
“Until then, Evie.” Jos took a step back, reluctantly. Evelyn nodded. Jos forced herself to turn and walk away, for once her mind more full of things to come than fears of what might happen.
*
When Evelyn let herself into the Graingers’ house, she found that both Lilian and James had already left. A hastily scrawled note on the table in the hallyway read: Evie, I’ve gone to my dressmaker again. Last minute alterations. There’s breakfast left if you want it. Didn’t want to wake you. Lilian.
There was little in the note to suggest whether Lilian had any questions about how Evelyn had spent the previous evening, but certainly her last words implied that the Graingers had not realised she had never returned home. That was a blessing at least, Evelyn thought. Though she understood the need, she had no desire to tell outright lies to Lilian and James.
She was glad to find she had the house to herself. She went into the sitting room and sat in the comfortable armchair, leaning her head back and gazing at the ceiling.
Her mind was so full of new memories, new ideas, of thoughts of the future, of lingering sensations and fears she’d never dreamed she would feel, that it was difficult to pick one thought from the maelstrom in her head. A memory would come of Jos’s mouth on her body, of those intense pleasures she’d never imagined, and then it would be superceded by the gentle peace of waking with her body pressed close to Jos’s. Tension would rise when she thought of having to lie, or when she remembered the warning she’d received about Jos, but then a happy anticipation would come when she imagined what Christmas with Jos would be like.
Her overwhelming feeling was one of excitement, of having overcome an obstacle she did not even know existed, perhaps even relief. One night with Jos seemed to have opened up a whole side of herself she had not previously understood. It was as though the part of her that was always dissatisfied, always searching for something more, finally had its answer. And that answer was Jos.
It barely occurred to her to find it strange that she should be experiencing these feelings, this fulfilment, from becoming romantically, sensually involved with a woman. Although back in West Coombe, it would have been a strange and remarkable, perhaps even indecent, set of circumstances, here in London it did not seem any more extraordinary than the elaborate outfits, the stark haircuts, the frantic dancing, and the intoxicating jazz. In this world, was anything really extraordinary? She could not help the way she felt. And no man had ever inspired such feelings in her. Besides, had she not just spent an evening with a roomful of women who also felt this way about their own sex? They all seemed happy, intelligent, decent people. Who they chose to share their beds with, and their intimate moments, was surely unimportant. It was as clear as day that a woman could not only form an attachment to another woman, but could love another woman as deeply as husbands and wives loved each other, if not more so. Clara and Courtney demonstrated that. Of all the hopes and tensions she found were now roaming her thoughts and stirring in the pit of her stomach, that she had fallen for someone of her own sex was the least of them. Although she could not imagine what they would say at home in West Coombe.
The notion made her laugh out loud, despite the usual pang of sadness that came with thinking of home. Her existence here felt so separate, so different. She could hardly imagine Jos in West Coombe, let along being there with her, being presented as the person she was courting.
This gave her pause. Were they courting? After all, it was not as though courting, in this case, would lead to an engagement. She could not marry Jos. Besides, they had already been far more intimate than a courting couple was supposed to be. She already understood that amongst modern young people such intimacy was nothing to be surprised about, and she was sensible enough not to assume it meant there was anything deeper between them. It was not that they had shared a bed, it was more that they had shared real feelings, an emotional intimacy. She was drawn to Jos irrevocably and she was fairly sure that Jos felt the same. But it was difficult to fit such a connection into the known patterns of courting between men and women, as she had known them. Perhaps she would ask Jos, the next time she saw her, to define their relationship a little more clearly.
The next time she saw her. Happily, Evelyn put her concerns aside and dwelt again on the happy memories of the night before, teasing herself with the wonderful anticipation of the next time she would be with Jos.
*
Evelyn spent a lazy day, revelling in her thoughts and memories, rather enjoying having a secret shared between her and Jos alone. She took a bath, remembering the touch of Jos’s hands on every part of her naked body. Looking down at herself, she no longer saw a wom
an’s body she barely understood. She felt at one with her body finally, fully aware of its potential for sensation and pleasure. Finally a grown woman who understood the mysteries she had been told she was not meant to understand for the sake of decency.
Late in the afternoon, when Lilian had still not returned and James was still at work, and tired after her late night, she retired to her room for a nap. As she drifted into sleep, she imagined she could feel Jos’s arms around her once more. She dreamed of a butterfly, flying in a warm summer sky, and this time nothing came to crush that dream.
When she awoke, it was dark outside, and for a moment she was disorientated, thinking she’d slept into the night. However, a glance at her wristwatch told her it was in fact just before dinner time and the darkness was only that the days were so short this deep into December. James would still be at work, but she was fairly sure she’d been woken by footsteps outside her door.
Evelyn rubbed her eyes and slowly got out of bed. After a moment to steady herself and register that taking a nap had given her rather a headache, she went towards the door, listening. She was keen to find out if Lilian was home, and face any questions, if there were indeed any to come. The longer she avoided it, the longer she would be left wondering if she had been missed at all last night. At the same time, she rather hoped that the first person she saw would not be James. If she heard him arriving home from work, she was prepared to retreat back into her room until dinner time, when she would see them both together.
She heard no one on the landing outside, so she went out, blinking slightly in the electric light after the dark of her bedroom. Now she could more clearly hear that the sound of movement was reaching her from Lilian’s attic rooms. “Lilian?” she called, but received no answer. Determined to get this first encounter over with, so she knew whether she would have to lie about her wherabouts or not, she crossed the landing and climbed the narrow flight of stairs that led to Lilian’s part of the house.
Fragile Wings Page 23
