Monday Girl (36 page)

Her heart began to sing. She would do her utmost to help him forget the past, and someday, very soon, nothing would come between them.

In bed, Glynn kissed her once more, and her spirits rose even higher, until he abruptly released his hold on her.

‘I’m sorry, Renee. I can’t. Not tonight. Not yet.’

She could understand what he felt, but that didn’t make it any easier for her. Was this going to be the pattern of all their nights together? Hurt and frustrated, she lay for over an hour listening to his steady breathing, before drifting into a troubled sleep.

On Wednesday, they took a bus to Cramond, and walked along the side of the River Forth, back towards Leith. They ambled, slowly and easily, stopping now and then for a cup of tea or a snack in a little cafe, and arrived back at the hotel with an hour to rest before dinner. They lay, fully clothed, on the bed, silent but companionable, until it was time to get dressed.

In the evening, while they were climbing Calton Hill, Renee reflected that Glynn had become a master of smalltalk, and wished with all her heart that he would say something romantic to her, for a change. He had been right yesterday. This honeymoon wasn’t turning out as she had expected, but even looking out over the view below, she couldn’t bring the subject up again.

That night was to be their last in Edinburgh, and Renee slid into bed hoping for a miracle. Glynn lay beside her, and she nestled in his arms while they talked about going home the next day, and how things would improve when they were sleeping in their own bedroom.

They’d bought an oak dressing-table and wardrobe the week before, to match the double bed which Anne had purchased when the Donaldsons came to lodge with her, and which had been moved into the attic bedroom. They’d also bought two rexine easy chairs to make their other room more like a sitting room, so that they would have their own little domain away from the rest of the house.

At last, Glynn said, ‘Goodnight, darling,’ and brushed her lips lightly with his before turning his back on her.

She could hardly believe it. He
wasn’t
trying. He didn’t want to banish her revelations from his mind. She couldn’t go on like this – she needed love, proper, total love. She lay, open-eyed and unmoving, remembering how she’d dreamt of this honeymoon with Glynn, of him being romantic, tender and passionate, not cold and distant, like this. Self-pity surging up in her, she wept silently for the fifteen-year-old virgin who had been hypnotised by a practised seducer, for the sixteen-year-old girl whose hopes and dreams had been riven apart, for the almost nineteen-year-old bride whose marriage was apparently doomed to be unconsummated.

If Anne Gordon suspected, when they returned to Aberdeen, that her daughter and son-in-law were not as happy as they should have been, she said nothing about it. They sat with her all evening, describing what they’d seen in Edinburgh, and assuring her that their honeymoon had been perfect.

When, at last, they went up to their bedroom, Glynn got into bed first and lay with his hands behind his head, watching Renee undress.

Aware that he was looking at her, she took her time, feeling like a cheap strip-tease artiste deliberately trying to kindle his desire. When she finally stood naked, she picked up her folded nightdress and shook it out slowly, hesitating before she pulled it over her head, and hoping that Glynn would tell her not to bother. But there was no reaction from him, so she put it on and slipped under the blankets beside him.

He made no move for a few minutes, then lowered his arms. ‘God, I’m tired. I’ll have to get some sleep. Goodnight, my darling.’ He gave her the light kiss she was beginning to resent, then turned round, facing away from her, and within a short time, he was fast asleep.

Renee sighed and gave up. What was the use of hoping? Glynn had said that it would take some time, and he’d meant it. She felt quite tired herself, anyway, after the ordeal of the past three loveless nights, so she snuggled down and let sleep claim her almost immediately.

Glynn had to report for duty on Friday evening, and he left her with the usual hasty peck. He told her that he might be back on Saturday afternoon, but probably not, as he might have to be on duty for the whole weekend.

Renee wandered back into the living room and sat down opposite her mother.

‘Is everything all right between you two?’ Anne asked.

‘You look a bit under the weather.’

‘Everything’s great,’ Renee lied. ‘We’ve just had a few late nights lately.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Anne’s twinkling eyes revealed what she was thinking, and the girl felt like shouting the truth at her.

On Monday morning, Renee found Sheila Daun’s good-natured teasing hard to take, but forced herself to laugh and joke along with her.

Glynn was helping Anne in the scullery when Renee went home at six o’clock, but they spent the evening in their own

‘sitting room’ listening to the wireless he’d bought, and making light inconsequential conversation. At a quarter past ten, she went downstairs to make cocoa, and was surprised to find him in bed when she brought up the tray. Glynn finished his cup quickly but Renee sipped slowly, making it last deliberately. She hadn’t shared the bed with him since Thursday, which had meant three nights without the tension he seemed to create, and was dreading his rejection again.

When she lay down beside him, however, he turned to her and cupped her breasts, gently at first, then more insistently until she gasped at his ferocity. He’d had time to consider, she thought happily, time to forgive her for her past indiscretion. His hands moved down her body, banishing any further thought, and she could feel his manhood straining against her as he pulled off her nightdress without a word.

She gave herself up to the exquisite delight of their very first, full mating, her own need now as great as his, her response to him uninhibitedly eager. ‘I love you, Glynn,’ she moaned.

‘I love you too, my Monday girl,’ he said, harshly, his teeth grating against hers. Horrified and shocked, she tried to struggle away from him, but he kept her firmly pinned beneath him until he satisfied himself then rolled over and laughed vindictively.

‘Did you think I could forget so easily?’

It hadn’t occurred to her that it was another Monday, and she was nauseated by what he had done. She felt that she’d been violated, and was so furious that even tears would have been no relief.

‘You callous, unfeeling brute,’ she said angrily. ‘I despise you for that, Glynn Williams.’

‘I can’t be first with you,’ he said flatly, ‘but you’re mine for the rest of your life, and it will always be Mondays, only Mondays.’

‘My God, Glynn, you’re as cruel as Fergus was.’

‘It isn’t cruel to make love to my wife for the very first time,’ he said, sarcastically. ‘I’m only trying to make sure it’ll be me you’ll always think of on Mondays, even if I’m not here with you.’

A possible excuse for his behaviour occurred to her then.

‘Have you been drinking, Glynn?’ Her mother had told her that he’d arrived home only a few minutes before she did herself.

‘I had a few in the mess in the afternoon, but I’m not drunk.’

‘Well, how could you? Do you realise how much you hurt me by saying that?’

‘Not as much as you hurt me last Monday night.’ His laugh was mirthless.

‘Stop torturing yourself, Glynn . . . and me. I’ve told you, I love you. You, and only you. Not Fergus, not anyone else. All that was in the past.’

He smirked slyly. ‘So you say, but it’s significant that you always bring his name into conversation.’

She turned away from him, feeling bitter. ‘That’s not fair, and you know it.’

He put his arms round her and made her face him again. His eyes were full of repentance as he said, misquoting,

‘Nothing’s fair in love and war, I do love you, Renee. I love you with all my heart. I asked you to be patient with me, remember?’

‘I remember, but it’s difficult for me as well. You said we should both try to be sensible, to forget.’

‘I meant it, and I have tried, but I’ll try even harder. I’m sorry, my darling.’

His earnestness touched her, and she leaned forward to kiss him. ‘Goodnight, Glynn darling.’

‘Goodnight, my lovely.’ He fell asleep with his arms still round her but Renee lay awake far into the small hours, hating Fergus Cooper but thankful that he would never know the mockery her marriage had become because of him.

 
Chapter Twenty-Three

Over the next few weeks, Renee Williams learned the meaning of purgatory because Glynn made love to her only on Mondays, as he had threatened. She stopped protesting after the third week, and allowed herself to respond to him, in the hope, at first, that it would prove to him that she really did love him, but eventually out of her own need for him.

He was a good companion at all other times, and had made no objection to her carrying on her correspondence with Jack Thomson and Tim Donaldson, but she always showed him their letters, and her replies, to avoid any unnecessary jealousy springing up. She had written to both of them after the honeymoon, telling them how happy she was – what else could she say? – and Tim’s answer had delighted her.

I’m really pleased for you and I’m beginning to think I was wrong in not asking Moira to get engaged before I was called up. I’ve decided to pop the question the next time I’m on leave, so keep your fingers crossed for me.

Love, Tim.

Jack’s reply was more serious:

As I told you when I saw you, I’m glad you’ve found happiness at last. I wish you and your Welshman good luck, and good fortune in the future.

Your old friend, JACK.

Renee felt a sense of desolation when she read it, but perhaps he’d considered that writing ‘Love’ would be out of place now that she was married, although that kind of nicety hadn’t bothered Tim.

Occasionally, Anne received letters from Mike, passing on the reports Babs sent him about their son, but since he’d been posted, Fred Schaper had written to her only once, telling her that he was being sent overseas. It had been a light-hearted letter which he ended by saying, ‘Give my best wishes to Renee and Glynn, I hope their wedding went off without a hitch. From your more-than-just-a-friend, Fred.’ Anne didn’t know if her reply had reached him before he left England. ‘If my letter didn’t get there in time,’ she said to Renee one day, ‘he might have thought I didn’t want to write, and he’ll be feeling very hurt about it. I shouldn’t have taken so long to make up my mind about it.’

‘He’d surely have sent another letter just to make sure?’ The girl felt extremely sorry for her mother, but her own life was far from perfect at the moment, too.

‘He wouldn’t have wanted to pester me,’ Anne said, sadly. ‘If only I knew where he was.’

‘He’ll write when he arrives at wherever they’ve sent him. Don’t worry about it, Mum.’

No letters ever came for Glynn Williams. ‘Doesn’t your mother ever write to you?’ Renee asked, about three months after they were married. ‘Or don’t you write to her?’

His eyes shifted guiltily. ‘I do write to her, but she can’t forgive me for marrying you, so she sends her letters to the Battery. I think she tries to convince herself that I’m still single.’

‘Oh, that’s just great!’

Her sarcasm made him wince. ‘Look, Renee, I’ll take you to meet her on my next leave, if you can get off work. I’m sure she’ll surrender to your charm as quickly as I did.’

She regarded this as some progress, and gladly made enquiries the next morning. Mr Murchie, old Bill, was quite agreeable to letting her have a week off after the New Year, and she waited rather impatiently for the weeks to pass.

Unfortunately, two days before they were due to go to Wales, Sheila Daun broke her leg at the skating rink, and because Renee wanted Glynn to have a chance to reason with his mother, she persuaded him, with very little difficulty, to go without her.

‘There’ll be other opportunities for me to meet her, Glynn, but tell her how sorry I am that I couldn’t go this time, and say that I hope I see her soon.’

He looked rather ashamed. ‘Renee, I . . . you’re so kind and understanding, in spite of everything. I wish I could . . . Maybe this break from each other is what I need to . . .’

His inarticulacy gave her fresh hope. ‘Maybe it is, my darling, and all the time you’re away I’ll be praying that things work out for us.’

On the day he was to travel to Wales, he kissed her warmly before she left for work. ‘I’ll do my best to talk Mam round.’ During the morning and afternoon, Renee often wondered where Glynn was at that minute, so she was astonished to see the army greatcoat on the hallstand when she went home at six o’clock. What had made him change his mind about going? She burst into the living room, but it wasn’t Glynn who was sitting there.

‘Jack! Oh, it’s good to see you!’ she cried before she could prevent herself. ‘You’re looking well,’ she added, rather more primly.

‘So are you, but you’re a bit thinner. Are you living on love these days?’

‘That’s right.’ Conversation between them had to be light and impersonal. If he suspected that something was wrong with her marriage, he was liable to be sympathetic and want to know the whys and wherefores, and she could never divulge the true reason. She loved Glynn as much as ever, and he loved her.

Realising that Jack was regarding her curiously, she asked him what had been happening to him recently. They were laughing uproariously when Anne came through, and the jokes flew backwards and forwards until she held up her hand. ‘Enough! My sides are sore with laughing. You two get worse and worse.’

‘Sit down and have a rest, Mrs Gordon, and my friend’ll help me to carry things through for you.’

He winked to Renee, who stood to attention and saluted.

‘Yes, Sir Friend.’

After their meal, Jack offered to do the washing up with Renee again, and they worked together companionably, keeping up their usual chaffing banter. In a short lull, Renee ventured to ask the question which often occurred to her.

‘Have you got a steady girl yet, Jack? I see you’ve got rid of the moustache.’