Join date: Jun 14, 2022


‘I’ll have to get these bundles unpacked and . . . and tidied up.’

He went on undoing the buttons ‘There’s all day the morrow and the next day and the next day and the next, all our life to undo bundles . . .’

‘Hie! what’re you doin’? That’s me good coat. Look, it’s on the floor.’

‘Leave it on the floor; there’s more to follow.’

‘Rory! Rory! the bed isn’t made up.’

‘The bed is made up, I saw to it.’

‘Oh Rory! . . . An’ I’m cold, I’m cold, I’m cold. I’ll have to get me nightie.’

‘You’re not going to need a nightie.’

‘Aw, Rory! . . . Eeh!’ She let out a squeal as, dressed only in her knickers and shift, he swung her up into his arms and carried her through into the bedroom and dropped her on to the bed. She lay there just where he had dropped her and in the dim light reflected from the kitchen she watched him throw off his clothes.

When he jumped on to the bed beside her she squealed and said, ‘Eeh! the lamp.’

‘The lamp can wait.’

They were pressed close, but she was protesting slightly, she didn’t want to be rushed. She was a bit afraid of this thing. If she could only make him take it quietly—lead up to it sort of. Her grannie had said it hurt like hell. His lips were moving round her face when she murmured, in a futile effort to stem his ardour, ‘Oh Rory, Rory, I’ll never be happier than I am at this minute. It’s been a wonderful day, hasn’t it? . . . They were all so good, an’ they enjoyed themselves, didn’t they? I bet they’ll keep up the jollification all night.’ She moaned softly as his hands moved over her; then, her voice trailing weakly away, she ended, ‘If-only-John-George-had-been-there . . .’

His hands ceased their groping, his lips became still on her breast and she screamed out now as he actually pushed her from him with such force that her shoulders hit the wall as he yelled at her, ‘God Almighty! can’t you give him a rest? What’ve you got to bring him up now for, at this minute? You did it on purpose. You did!

In the silence that followed he listened to her gasping. Then she was in his arms again and he was rocking her. ‘Oh lass, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It was only, well, you know, I’ve waited so long . . . And, and . . .’

When she didn’t answer him, or make any sound, he said softly, ‘Janie. Janie. Say something.’ What she said was, ‘It’s all right. It’s all right.’


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