So Long At the Fair (52 page)

‘That’s all I ask. And I promise the same thing.’

A little silence, then she said, ‘What about – what about your friend?’

‘That’s all finished,’ he said. ‘I’ve already been to see her, to tell her that it’s over between us. She – she was most understanding.’ He looked out over the water. ‘We shall not speak of her again.’

‘No.’

‘And please, never again shall we speak of
him
– Mr Gilmore. Is that agreed also?’

‘Yes.’

He gazed at her for a moment in silence, then leaned forward and very lightly touched his lips upon hers.

‘Shall we all be going home tomorrow?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We’ll all go home together.’

They walked back to the hotel arm in arm. Upstairs they went into Abbie’s suite where, stealing quietly into the connecting bedroom, Abbie looked closely at the silent figures in the beds and then crept out again. Softly she closed the door behind her and whispered to Louis, ‘They’re both sleeping very soundly.’

He came towards her as she stood beside the door, looked down at her for a second, then took her in his arms. He kissed her, his lips soft and warm and insistent upon her own. For a moment she felt a resistance building within her, so fast, so powerful, but she said to herself,
This is the path you have chosen. This is the only way
. And she forced herself to relax and she returned his kiss.

His hands reached to her lace shawl and slipped it from her shoulders. When he had laid it over a nearby chair he kissed her again, and this time she responded readily. His hands touched her breasts, then slid down her body and moved over her loins. At his touch she closed her eyes and gave a little gasp – surprised at the shiver of pleasure that ran through her. Aware of his touch leaving her, she opened her eyes in time to see him reach past her shoulder and slide home the bolt to lock the door between the two rooms. ‘Just in case Ollie should wake,’ he breathed, and then his hands were back upon her body and he was unbuttoning her dress.

Several minutes later, with the lights turned down low, Abbie lay naked on the bed, while before her Louis took off his own remaining clothing. In moments he, also naked, stood looking down at her. Gazing up at him, she thought how fine he looked – so tall and upright and handsome in his nakedness. He lay down beside her and smothered her face with kisses. She could feel the hot hardness of his sex against her thigh. After a little while he shifted and laid his long, firm body upon her own, and then his hands were moving down, parting her legs.

And suddenly that strange, elusive shadow was there straight out of her dream – and she froze, pressing her eyes tightly shut and gritting her teeth, while in her head a voice protested, no, no . . .

She became aware that Louis had stopped. She opened her eyes and saw his face above her as he leaned down, supporting himself on his hands. He was frowning, consternation on his face. She felt a sudden rush of guilt.

‘Why – why do you stop?’ she asked breathlessly.

He gazed at her for a moment without speaking, then said, ‘What is it, Abbie? Tell me.’

‘– I don’t know what you mean.’

‘What is it that gets in the way? Why can’t you let yourself go?’

‘I do,’ she said. ‘I do.’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Never fully. What is it that stops you? Are you afraid of something, is that it?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Then what? Do you feel that it’s somehow wrong?’

‘It can’t be wrong.’

‘Of course it’s not. It’s right. It’s right. And if you let it, then it can be beautiful.’ He paused. ‘Trust me, Abbie. Trust me.’

‘Yes . . .’ For some reason that she could not fathom, tears filled her eyes, spilled over and ran down the sides of her face onto the pillow.

‘Oh, my dear . . . !’ Louis touched at the tears. ‘Don’t cry. Don’t cry.’

‘I don’t know why I’m crying,’ she said. ‘It’s crazy, isn’t it?’

He leaned down and kissed her tear-wet cheeks and temples. ‘What is it? Tell me what it is.’

‘I don’t know. But it’s all right. I’ll be fine.’ She was silent for a few seconds, then she said, ‘I want to give you what you want, Louis. Believe me, I do. So much.’

He lay down beside her again, his arm across her body. They remained like that for several minutes, then Abbie spoke.

‘Kiss me, Louis. Please, kiss me . . .’

He did so, and with a growing fervour that was at the same time very tender.

Feeling him pressed against her she felt the hardening of his sex once more. ‘Tell me that you love me, Louis. Please . . .’

‘I do love you, Abbie. God knows I do. I think I’ve loved you from the moment we met.’

He began to smother her with kisses, his lips moving down from her face to her breast, and then lower still. The feel of his lips and his tongue made her squirm and with an effort she held herself in check again. Sensing the sudden restraint he lifted his head and said, ‘Give yourself to me, Abbie. Don’t hold back. Take pleasure from me. Take it. Take it selfishly. Let me love you.’

Hearing his words, she felt momentarily freed, and she opened her mouth and gave a deep, deep sigh, with her breath letting go all the tension that was keeping her in check.

‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘Yes.’

And then, moments later, he was entering her, and she opened herself to him, suddenly wanting him inside her, wanting to keep him there. And she found herself revelling in the feel of him, in his nakedness, in her own nakedness, in their oneness. And, ‘Yes, oh, yes!’ she breathed again. ‘Oh, Louis, yes, yes, yes.’

Chapter Thirty-Two

In all the rush to get everything packed and be off to catch the train Oliver still did not get his present from Louis.

‘But Daddy, you promised,’ he said as they sat in the cab on the way to the railway station.

‘I know I did,’ Louis said, ‘but that was before you all decided to come back home with me. Then in all the hustle and bustle I’m afraid I forgot about it again.’

‘You’re very bad, Daddy,’ Oliver said.

‘I know I am. Can you forgive me?’

Oliver sighed. ‘I don’t know. It depends. You can at least tell me what it is.’

‘Uh-uh.’ Louis shook his head. ‘It’s going to be a surprise, I told you that.’

The boy turned to his mother. ‘Mama, do you know what it is? You can tell me, can’t you?’

Abbie shrugged. ‘I’m afraid I can’t. Your papa hasn’t told me.’

‘Can’t I have it now, then?’

Louis gestured with his thumb. ‘It’s still packed away.’

‘Oh, Daddy, please.’

‘But don’t worry – he’s quite safe. He won’t come to any harm.’

‘He?’ Oliver said. ‘He?’

Louis put both hands to his cheeks in an expression of mock horror. ‘Oh, no! did I say “he”?’

Oliver laughed. ‘Yes, you did! You did say “he”!’

‘Oh, no!’ Louis cried. ‘I didn’t say “he”, did I?’ He appealed to Abbie. ‘I didn’t say “he” did I, Mama? Please tell me I didn’t!’

Abbie gave a nod. ‘I rather think you did, you know.’

‘Yes, you did, you did, you did!’ Oliver was squealing with laughter. ‘You did say “he”. And now I know what it is! I think I can guess.’

Louis put his face close to the boy’s. ‘All right, then, so what do you think it is, Master Oliver Clever Clogs?’

‘Well . . .’ Oliver thrust his face pugnaciously towards his father’s. ‘I think it’s . . .’ He smiled broadly. ‘It’s the soldier I wanted. Is it? Is it, Daddy?’

Louis sighed, as if glad to be relieved of the burden of knowledge. ‘It could be,’ he said.

Later, on the train, with Oliver nestled in the crook of Abbie’s arm, he was soon asleep. Abbie sat gazing out at the scenery. Beyond the smoke-begrimed window the fields and woodlands glided by. She was aware of feeling different on this homeward journey compared with how she had felt on the way out. When she and Oliver and Maria had left home for their stay at the coast she had, in spite of being hopeful, had many misgivings about the future. Now so much seemed to have changed – and in such a very short time. She was sure now, if only for Oliver’s sake, that her place was with Louis. And perhaps not only for Oliver’s sake, she said to herself; for last night things had happened that had somehow made it all different. Last night she and Louis had made love until the small hours. Afterwards, as she had lain there, drifting off to sleep in his embrace, she had been aware of feeling glad of all the pleasure she had known that night, the pleasure that she had found in Louis’s body, and for what that unaccustomed pleasure had meant. For one thing it had made her aware of her own body’s needs and desires. Needs and desires she had not known since the day of the fair.

Turning from the window, she looked at Louis as he sat opposite her reading a newspaper. With a little rush of pleasure she recalled again the touch of him as they had lain together, spent and sated, after they had made love. She could remember the feel of his breath upon her hair, the warmth of him, the strength of him. But most of all she could recall the feeling of safety she had known. It had been her final thought before she had fallen asleep.

It was quite late when at last they reached Frome. Oliver had slept on and off throughout the long journey, but nevertheless was still tired. Louis carried him into the house where, after a light supper, Abbie and Maria put him to bed. When Abbie had tucked him in and kissed him, Louis went in to say goodnight. He found him very tired, but not so tired that he had forgotten the present that had been promised him.

‘But it’s still packed up in our luggage,’ Louis said when Oliver asked him for it.

‘But you said I could have it,’ Oliver protested.

‘I know I did. But I tell you what: if you go to sleep now I promise –
I promise
– that it’ll be unpacked tonight, and before I go to bed I’ll bring it in and put it right here next to your bed. Then, in the morning when you wake, it will be the first thing you see. How about that?’

‘You promise?’

‘Cross my heart.’

‘All right.’

‘And you’ll try to sleep?’

‘Yes.’

Louis bent lower and kissed him on the cheek. ‘There’s a good boy.’

In the drawing room Abbie read a letter that had arrived the previous day from Iris inviting Abbie and Louis to her wedding. She and Alfred were to be married in London on 2 September. Iris wrote that he was still employed by the London Steamship Company, playing the cornet in one of the brass bands that entertained on the company’s Thames pleasure steamers. It was only a temporary position, however, Iris added, for in the autumn he was to join the orchestra of a major London theatre.

‘Oh, can we go to Iris’s wedding, Louis?’ Abbie asked as Louis finished reading the letter. ‘Please say we can.’

‘Of course we can,’ he said. ‘And even if I can’t get away there’s no reason why you shouldn’t go.’

‘I don’t want to go on my own.’

‘Perhaps Eddie and Violet will be going.’

‘No, they won’t go. Not with the girls and so much expense. Besides, how could Eddie get the time off?’

‘I suppose not. But I should think I’ll be able to get away. At least we’ve had plenty of notice.’

‘I’m so glad everything is going well for Iris,’ Abbie said. ‘She sounds so happy.’

‘Did you realize,’ Louis said, ‘that the pleasure steamers on which Alfred is playing are the ones that go down to Gravesend and Sheerness? Like the ones we’ve been on when we’ve been to see Father. That’s an idea,’ he added, ‘– while we’re in London for the wedding we could go to Gravesend. It’s been a good while since we visited my father, and it’s high time he got to see his grandson again.’

While Abbie and Louis ate supper the maid unpacked their luggage. Later, in the main bedroom, Louis showed Abbie the present he had bought for Oliver. The wooden soldier was an upright, handsome fellow, with a shining helmet and gold braid on his shoulders and cuffs. He stood to attention, his right hand holding his rifle at his side.

‘Oh, Ollie will love him,’ Abbie said.

‘Yes, I think he will.’

He put the soldier back in his wrapping of tissue paper in the box and carried it across the landing to the nursery. He silently eased open the door, found all quiet and peaceful, and crept in. The room was illuminated only by the flame of a little nightlight that burned beside Maria’s bed, and in its glow he saw that she was sleeping soundly. Stealing to Oliver’s bedside he saw that he too was asleep. In the faint glow he stood looking down at him for a moment, then placed the box containing the soldier on the little chest beside his bed. Then, as silently as he had entered, he left the room.

Back in the master bedroom he found Abbie already in bed. Without any mention of the subject it was now understood that their time of sleeping apart was over.

He undressed, climbed in beside her and took her in his arms. They made love and when at last they were sated Louis put his arms around her and drew her naked body to him. After a while, with his soft breath upon her hair, they fell asleep.

Oliver awoke to the silent room. He lay there for some seconds, then sat up in bed. He was thirsty and his throat felt dry. Turning to the bedside chest, he reached out for the beaker of water that was always there, and as he did so, he saw the box. His mouth opened in a little ‘O’ of pleasure and surprise. His desire for water forgotten, he swung his feet out onto the floor.

Taking the lid off the box he peered at the toy soldier lying in his bed of paper. Then, discarding the lid, he moved towards Maria’s bed, beside which the nightlight burned. There, in the faintly stronger glow he took the soldier from the box, shook free his tissue paper wrappings and gazed at him in breathless adoration.

And then all at once the soldier was more brightly illuminated. For a second Oliver accepted it, but then he saw the bright, flaring light and felt sudden heat. A piece of the tissue paper had fallen onto the flame of the nightlight and drifted down onto the hem of his nightshirt. With sudden terror the boy saw that his nightshirt was on fire. Giving a shriek, he let fall the soldier and ran. There was no escaping from the flames, however, and in seconds they were rising up and enveloping him.