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‘But they say that can’t happen the first time! Please let me, sweetheart. I can’t stop now, you’ve made me want to explode!’ He fell upon her again, planting fervent coaxing kisses all over her face and neck, trying to manoeuvre himself into position.
‘Martin, you can stop and you will!’
Alarmed that her loud protestation would fetch witnesses, her ardent suitor issued a gasp of frustration and allowed himself to be displaced as, with a last growling heave, Etta hurled him to one side and dragged down her skirt, her breast rapidly rising and falling.
There was a moment’s silence during which he lay beside her and sulked. Then, with a scissor movement he leapt up and stalked across the room, his back to her as he adjusted his clothing. ‘I’m sorry I misunderstood – we are to be wed, after all.’
‘And once we are then you shall have the matrimonial benefits,’ came her firm reply. ‘But I won’t escape from one bully to saddle myself with another.’
Grossly affronted, Marty wheeled about. ‘How can you compare me with him? I adore you!’
‘But you don’t respect me,’ she retorted.
‘I do!’ Then his objection gave way to serious contemplation, which terminated in a grin of self-confession. ‘Well, sorry…I did get a bit carried away.’ He rushed to her side again, stroking and petting her in an unthreatening manner. ‘It’s just that I’ve never wanted anyone so much as I want you, Etta.’ His eyes showed it. ‘I thought you wanted me in the same way.’
‘Oh, Martin, I do.’ Hardly able to breathe through passion, she put a hand to his cheek, holding his droopy-lidded gaze earnestly. When the subject of marriage had first been aired she had asked her mother what to expect. Mother had refused to discuss it, saying that it was all rather horrid but a wife must put up with it. None of her friends could enlighten her either. A determined Etta had finally gone back to Blanche, who had previously refused to be drawn but being of a lower class and the dispenser of bawdy jokes must surely be more conversant with such matters than herself. Despite professing to know little more than her mistress, amid great embarrassment, Blanche had finally been coaxed into detail, and had likened the marital act to what happened amongst the animals. ‘Or so I’m told! I’m dreading it myself.’ Etta had found it repellent too then, but the thought of such a union with Marty was utterly different. ‘But I want to be married first. I don’t think you understand how shameful it is for a woman to bear a child out of wedlock. You see, I’ve witnessed one of our maids being sent packing for such a reason.’
‘Do you realise how insulting that is?’ It was his turn to accuse now. ‘You’re insinuating that once I’ve had what I want I’ll leave you in the lurch!’
‘I didn’t mean that, I know I can trust you. It’s just…’
‘It’s just you think I’m a lying tinker.’
‘No!’ Disturbed, Etta struggled to conjure a plausible answer, hating that sullen frown upon Martin’s brow, eventually admitting in a little voice, ‘It’s…I’m frightened.’
Overwhelmed with love, he hugged her then. ‘Oh, you poor little thing! But I’ve explained to you, nothing awful will come of it.’
‘Is that what you say to all the girls?’
‘No!’
‘There must have been plenty – you seem very experienced.’
‘There hasn’t! Well, only one.’
A small voice. ‘And did you love her?’
He shook his head, ashamed to tell the truth, that the girl had only been someone liberal with her favours and had meant nothing to him. ‘I didn’t know what love was until I met you, Etta. The last thing I want is to hurt you.’ He cradled her dark skull, kissing the top of it. ‘Why won’t you believe me?’
‘I do.’ She suddenly regained her passion, grasping his arms, her face close to his. ‘Oh, we can do it if you want!’
Marty was not so noble as to refuse and his question was academic. ‘Are you sure?’
At her nod he was instantly eager and upon her again, Etta returning his passion, even removing some of her clothing for him and welcoming the intimacy she had refused before. But at the vital moment he sensed that her invitation still veiled a modicum of doubt and he gave an agonised groan. ‘Oh God, Etta, you’re not going to stop me again, are ye?’
‘No, no, go on!’
Still, as he examined her face he saw fear, and, barely able to contain himself, gasped,
‘Oh Christ, look, it’s no good if you feel like that. I won’t go all the way, just grip it between your thighs like this –’
An anxious query. ‘Is that all right?’
‘Yes, yes! Now, stay with me!’ And hanging on to her tightly he set the bed rocking.
It was over quickly and afterwards he remained on top of her, lungs heaving, breath hot upon her neck.
Etta remained slightly stunned. ‘Gosh…I didn’t expect…that was very pleasurable, wasn’t it?’
His body shook in silent laughter and he nodded into her shoulder. Fancy a lady saying that to him!
She tensed. ‘Are you mocking me?’
He lifted his face rapidly to deny this, his eyes warm with love and sated desire.
Still, somewhat guilty for leading him on, she asked tentatively, ‘Did you mind very much that we weren’t able to do it properly?’
‘Ah, God love you, my dear, dear sweetheart!’ Marty dealt her a resounding kiss. ‘That was as close as dammit.’ He moved to give her breathing space, though not too far, their bodies remained in contact. ‘And very pleasurable for me too I might add.’ He could hardly believe that he felt so relaxed as to say such a thing, but Etta felt like a part of himself, always had from the minute they’d met.
‘And you don’t mind that I’m making you wait?’ Her dusky eyes examined him.
Satisfied now, he was able to give a genuinely kind reply, his mouth only inches away from hers. ‘Of course not. Much as I want ye I’m sure I can hang on a few days longer. But I warn you, once we’re married I’m going to make up for lost time.’ He pretended to gnaw on her neck, making animal noises.
Etta giggled and moulded herself to him. ‘Could we just shuffle over a little? It’s rather – is it meant to be so wet?’
‘Ach, sorry!’ He gave an awkward laugh and hauled her across the rumpled bed where they lay contentedly for a while, their lips occasionally touching, tasting, reiterating their love for each other, enjoying the closeness. Then, giving her a last rapturous kiss, Marty patted her, rolled off the bed, adjusted his clothing, and in a happy manner went to retrieve the paper bag he had discarded upon entry, coming back to hand it to her.
Now discreetly covered, Etta sat up expectantly and, with dark hair all awry, peered into the bag. ‘What’s in here?’
He threw himself on the bed again to watch lovingly. ‘Gingersnaps! While I was waiting down there I managed to cadge them from a pal at the station. Sorry, there’s no tray of tea to go with them, I daren’t risk that. Nor will there be anything else until tomorrow morning when I can maybe sneak something from the kitchen. I’ll fetch you some water, though, before I leave.’
Handing him a biscuit and nibbling on one herself, she smiled contentedly, hardly taking her eyes off him all the time she ate, which precipitated another bout of kissing amidst the crumbs. But this could not continue forever. If Martin should lose his job how would he support them? So, reluctantly, they prepared to bid each other adieu.
Coming back to reality, Marty gave a muttered comment on the bed. ‘Good grief, look at the mess we’ve made o’ this.’ And he dragged off the counterpane. ‘Grab the other edge.’ Even as he said it he wondered if she might take umbrage at his order, but she seemed not to mind as she helped to turn it over.
A long night ahead of her, Etta showed reluctance to let him go, hanging on to his coat sleeves in concern. ‘What if Father should arrive in your absence and drag me back – would you come after me?’
He cupped her face and gazed into it, swearing solemnly, ‘Darlin’, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. Well, at least as far as my poor old barking dogs will carry me.’ The joke about his sore feet was accompanied by a reassuring hug and a chuckle. ‘Ah, don’t fret now, with a bit o’ luck we’ll have you out of here before anyone notices. And now I must be gone too.’ After first sneaking off to fetch a jug of water for her, Marty finally took his leave. Clinging to him until the last second, Etta planted frantic kisses upon him, declaring she would go to bed early so as not to feel hungry and locking the door behind her beloved as he went home with a spring in his step.
‘I’m glad to see you looking happier,’ said his mother when he arrived, though there was more than a hint of suspicion in her eye.
Inwardly laughing at her understatement, Marty dealt her a blithe shrug. ‘No point being miserable, Ma.’ And, with a happy ruffle of his little brother’s hair, he sat to partake of the family meal, his own being consumed in no time.
Still eating, Agnes watched him shrewdly. ‘Would you be in a rush to go out by any chance?’
‘Ah no, I was just famished,’ he replied with an innocent, languorous gaze. ‘Tired too. I think it’ll be an early night tonight.’ He thought of poor Etta, alone and hungry, then turned to his father who was also still eating. ‘Da, would you mind very much if I get down and have a little look at the press before bed?’
Granted permission, he went to sit on a more comfortable chair. It was fortunate that the ‘houses to let’ section was on the first page so that he would not appear to be hunting for something. Having opted for furnished lodgings as he possessed no furniture or artefacts of his own, he sat back to peruse, though it turned out to be an unsatisfying read. Most of the rents were beyond his pocket, for until he was safely wed he still had to pay his dues at home, not just to make things look normal but so as not to deprive his mother. Behind the newspaper, he machinated over how to boost his funds. What if he were to pawn something? In his wardrobe was a decent greatcoat which would be hanging redundant throughout the summer months, along with one or two other items of winter clothing. Maybe combined they would raise enough to secure a property, or at least rooms. His mother did not hold with pawnbrokers, opining that borrowing money was a slippery slope to get on to, not from any high-minded ideal but out of contempt for the interest rates they charged. Whenever his father was out of employment she would work doubly hard herself. Even in the usual course of her day she took on others’ laundry or mending, accepting anything rather than having to resort to money-lenders, so there would be no danger she might need the clothes for this purpose. The only difficulty would be in sneaking them out of the house. He cast his eye again over the column of vacancies, taking mental note of suitable addresses.
Earlier than normal, with a nonchalant yawn he bade others goodnight and went to bed alongside his younger siblings, where he lay for another hour planning his next move and imagining himself with Etta, which took him to the brink of tumescence, at which point he forced himself to think of other things and shortly fell asleep.
In the morning he made a bundle of the coat and other items to be pawned and tied it with a belt. As it transpired, it was not so difficult to smuggle it past his mother. After breakfast, during which he folded some bread and butter and slipped it into his pocket, he simply went back to his room, opened the window and dropped the bundle to the pavement, before hurrying outside to retrieve it as he went off to work. On his way, he called at a pawnbroker’s, one that was not too close to home; it wouldn’t do for Ma to spot his best coat in the window. Having thought of everything, and quite happy with the five shillings raised, he hurried onwards, his keenness not for work but to see his beloved.
It was relatively swift and easy to get to her, for his first act upon arrival was always to go and check the corridors for boots. Today, after collecting a few items in order to feign normality, he tapped on her door using the special knock they had arranged. Within seconds he was inside, the boots were tipped onto the floor and Etta was in his arms.
Relations were even better this morning, for she was wearing a nightdress which revealed every soft curve, her body warm, her black eyes heavy with sleep and looking more seductive than ever. In seconds, without even removing his boots, let alone his uniform, he was in the bed with her, repeating yesterday’s excursion. Ecstatic to see him, Etta proved most willing, but eventually pushed him away with a scolding laugh, telling him, ‘Enough! I’m absolutely famished. They’ve been baking bread since the early hours and the scent of it has been driving me insane.’
His senses otherwise engaged, only now did Marty notice the aroma that elevated from the bake house, and apologised for the flattened offering he had provided, but she didn’t seem to mind, devouring the bread and butter with gusto and asking between bites, ‘Did you manage to find us a home?’
‘I did! Or rather I soon will have. I’ve three addresses lined up, so one of them should come up trumps.’ At her look of excitement he added, ‘Sorry I won’t be able to afford a whole house…’
‘Rooms will be fine,’ she assured him, munching happily. ‘Providing I’m with you.’ She seemed unable to tear her eyes from him, her roaming gaze making new discoveries. ‘Your fingernails are beautifully clean considering what you do for a living.’
Surprised by this sudden tangent, he looked down at his hands. ‘Thank you. I always wear gloves when I’m handling boot polish; can’t abide filthy nails.’
She nodded approvingly and, still munching, returned to the subject in hand. ‘So, when will you have news?’
‘I’ll try and go in my dinner hour.’
‘You know, we should really be arranging our nuptials too.’
‘Don’t think I’ve forgotten.’ He gave her a kiss. ‘But I haven’t time to do that and look for rooms, and my priority is to get you out of here.’
‘My priority too.’ She gnawed her way through the crust. ‘You can’t imagine how bored I’ve been – so I think I shall go for a walk and at the same time visit the register office.’
‘Ye can’t go out! What if you’re seen? It took me so much trouble getting you in here…’
Etta gave a petulant sigh. ‘Oh, all right. Perhaps it would be more fitting for the groom to apply.’ But her despondency did not last long, as she informed him excitedly, ‘Since Father dragged me away from you I’ve been putting our enforced separation to good use by reading up on the subject of matrimony. Apparently, if time is of the essence, as it is with us, one requires a licence. Once we have that we may marry after one full day elapses. We’ll also need written consent from our parents – now, that’s something I can be doing whilst you’re away, I’m very adept at forgery. Though it might be rather suspicious if I use the hotel writing paper for both letters!’
Marty laughed and said he would compose his own on more suitable paper. ‘But how much is all this going to cost?’
Etta had missed this practicality. ‘Oh, I’m not sure – but don’t worry, I’ve some jewellery in my bag we can sell.’ At his objection she overruled him. ‘I insist! Everything is worthless compared to being your wife.’ The last mouthful of bread consumed, she leapt from the bed, soon dancing back to him with some earrings and two brooches. ‘There are lesser items too if you think you’ll be able to get anything for them, a blouse, a skirt…’
Reluctant even to accept the jewellery, he told her, ‘What sort o’ man takes the clothes from his wife’s back? I’m not even sure I should be taking these. You realise I could be accused of stealing them?’
‘Really?’ She projected shock. ‘How disgusting. Should I write a note of authenticity?’
‘Might be an idea.’ After studying the precious items for some seconds, he put them in his pocket. ‘But I won’t sell them, I’ll pawn them; that way I can retrieve them later.’
She replied lightly as she flopped down beside him again, ‘I shan’t want them, I told you they mean nothing.’
Now that everything had been discussed, she cuddled up to him for more kisses. But soon they had to part again, Etta to pace the room in boredom and to survive on the brief visits that her lover paid her whenever he could.
Noon finally came and Marty approached his superior. ‘Mr Wilkinson, please could I go out in my dinner break?’
‘What’s so important that it can’t wait until this evening?’ Wilkinson had no reason to forbid it, he just liked to be awkward.
‘My aunt’s poorly. Mother asked would I call in on her, see if she needs anything. Of course, I could wait till tonight, but if she were to faint and then fall on –’
‘Spare me the long list of ridiculous consequences,’ replied Wilkinson tiredly, but with a smirk of amusement, for at heart he liked Boots. ‘Away with you before I change my mind.’
‘Aw thanks, Mr Wilkinson!’ Marty decided to chance his luck. ‘Er, she lives quite far away, could I tack an extra fifteen minutes on –’
‘I’ll grant you ten. Any more and you’ll make up for it at the end of your shift.’
‘Oh, I will, sir – thank ye kindly!’ Marty rushed off to inspect the rooms.
His first port of call was to be in what he regarded as a nice area, for if he couldn’t keep Etta in the manner to which she was accustomed then he could at least do his best. A stroke of luck occurred when he saw a friend who gave him a lift in his trap, thus saving him precious minutes. Taking this as a good omen, Marty was therefore pole-axed when his enquiry was rudely forestalled. Yes, there was a notice in the window advertising the vacancy, but it was accompanied by a proviso: No Irish.
Dismayed, he wasted no time in proceeding to the next address. Alas, these rooms had been taken at ten o’clock that morning. The third place on his list was closer to home in a street despised even by those of his own class. He had regarded it as a last resort but now dashed there, praying that no one would have beaten him to it. Time was running out. He would have to take these rooms even if they were bug-infested.
He was never to find out, for the rooms had already been taken. By now famished and despondent, he beseeched the woman who had answered his knock, ‘Do you know where there might be anywhere else to let – anywhere at all?’
She weighed up his smartly uniformed figure before directing him to a public house along the street. ‘I think they’ve a room going.’
Marty crumpled in despair. The Square and Compass was hardly the sort of place to bring a lady. For a second he considered the gold jewellery in his pocket, yet to be pawned. But no, Etta expected that would pay for the wedding; if he used it to rent somewhere better it might render them unable to marry and then where would he be? With little choice he thanked the woman and went to involve himself in swift negotiation with the landlord.
His return to the hotel was accompanied by mixed emotions. True, the room was not what he wanted for Etta – classed as furnished, it had the barest minimum of items and was somewhat jaded – but at least it was somewhere they could be together as man and wife. It was only two shillings a week, and they could always move later – a definite possibility for he had achieved an excellent price for the jewellery. The moment his workload allowed it, he dashed to tell her this.
Confined for hours like a restless zoo animal, unable to lace her own corset and having to leave it off, forced to occupy herself by brushing her hair a hundred times and inexpertly attempting to fashion it into different styles, an intensely bored Etta was relieved to see him back and even more thrilled to hear him voicing success. ‘You’ve found us rooms?’ She flung herself at him.
‘Aye!’ He swept her up, then tempered his excited response. ‘Well, room, singular – I’m sorry, everything else had gone, it’s all I could manage at the moment – but we won’t have to stay there long. Once we’re safely wed I’ll make a concerted effort to find something better.’ He hugged her tightly, releasing her to say, ‘You do understand you might have to be there on your own for a couple of nights, just till I can arrange the wedding? I’ll take you there when I get off work and make sure you’re safe, but I can’t sleep there, obviously, before we’re man and wife.’ Even if Etta had been willing he couldn’t let his parents down by living in sin.
She nodded, enthusing, ‘Oh, I can’t wait to go there!’
He crushed her again. ‘Me an’ all. How did ye go on with your letter of consent?’
‘Oh, that took me all of five minutes!’ She prised herself free and skipped away to fetch an envelope, which he put in his pocket.
‘That’s great.’ His arms soon encircled her again. ‘Only a few more hours to go.’
Etta pulled a face. ‘More hours of biting my fingernails to the quick, imagining my father’s going to turn up at any moment. I’ll have them down to my elbows before tonight.’
‘Ah well, you can chew on mine if ye like – well you did remark on how clean they were, I thought ye might find them tasty!’ He laughed as she grappled with him, joyful that she shared his sense of humour.
‘I might have to hold you to that! I’m absolutely ravenous.’
Marty admitted, ‘So am I, I didn’t have time for any dinner. Maybe I can get us something from the kitchen.’ Then, he squashed his lips to hers.
It was whilst they were torridly engrossed that someone rattled a key in the lock, forcing self-preservation to override passion. Tearing themselves apart, they turned to stare at the door in horror, having no time to run for the person was entering.
‘Oh, I beg your –’ Joanna had been about to apologise, but at the sight of Marty in the arms of another she broke off, her jaw dropping and her eyes wide in shock. Then, in the same instant she had spun on her heel.
‘Jo, wait!’ A panicked Marty raced to waylay the chambermaid, catching her and dragging her back into the room where he forbade any exit by leaning against the door. ‘Please don’t give us away!’
Joanna demanded to be past. ‘I want nothing to do with this!’
‘All right, but let me explain!’ With Etta an anxious spectator, he grasped the maid’s arms.
