The Crimson Bed (2 page)

    Just now there was an air of quiet about him that pleased her. Such moments of peace together, times when they managed to elude parental supervision, were rare these days and she delighted in them when they happened. She watched his face, saw the chasing of thoughts across it and the movement of his eyes as he glanced here and there. It was like watching a cloud-filled, storm-tossed sky. Even when his body was still for a brief moment, his mind was moving and ideas tumbling over each other in his head.

    'I love these woods,' he said, leaning back against the hard, ridged trunk.

    Ellie sighed and touched the tree with her fingers, running them over the knobbly, scarred wood as if trying to communicate with the tree in some way. 'I love them too. We've played so many games in here, haven't we? Isn't it sad that we are supposed to be grown up now and can't play any more?'

    He looked at her. 'Why shouldn't we play one last game of hide and seek? We'll call it our Last Game, shall we? A celebratory last game – then we can officially declare ourselves Grown Up.'

    'What a mad idea! How on earth can I hide anywhere when these skirts are going to poke out on all sides of me and you'll see me a mile away?'

    'I'll pretend I haven't seen you. I'll let you win as usual.'

    'Oh, yes? That's a new notion. You want to win. You're a very bad loser, Alfie Dillinger. I'm the one who's always let you win.'

    'Rubbish!'

    'No, it isn't!'

    'Oh, come on, Ellie... one last game?'

    'All right. You're being silly, though.'

    'It's the practice at Oxford. You have to be silly there.'

    'So I gather. And to think the country's leaders are meant to arise from those hallowed halls.'

    He helped her to rise again and she dusted herself down a little.

    'I'll have to take care though,' she pleaded, 'this is a new dress. I mustn't tear it.'

    'Oh, Ellie, your father likes to spoil you, you know that. He'll love the excuse to let you have another. Take it off if you're so bothered.'

    'Heavens, Alfie, I can't do that!'

    'I'll help you. Come on... have a last moment of freedom.'

    She stared at him and suddenly they looked deep into each other's eyes. A sense of something important was in the air. They felt it between them. Childhood was slipping, had slipped away; they were now man and woman. It frightened them both a little. Ellie turned and he began to unhook her dress and eventually between them they undid the bodice and laid it aside and then did the same with the skirts and some of the petticoats and put them carefully on top of a bush, spread out to avoid being crumpled. She was now down to the camisole, which covered her corset and chemise and her last fine, cotton under-petticoat, her stockings and little buttoned-up boots.

    'The things you women have to wear,' said Alfie in some disbelief, 'how can you bear it?'

    'If only we didn't have to. But I wouldn't dare say that to anyone else but you. My cousin Anne thinks I am shocking even to think of such a thing. She considers it wonderful to cover up from head to foot and be properly lady-like. Oh, Alfie, this feels splendid. So free... yes, let's have our last game…our last game!'

    She suddenly turned and ran off down a path, calling over her shoulder, 'I'll hide... you find me if you can.'

    Ellie ran amongst the trees and laughed to herself with the sheer joy of youth and foolishness. She wondered where to hide and tried to remember favourite places used before. It was such a long time since they'd played this game here in the woods. She was a lot smaller then and could hide in places that no longer concealed her. Where to go? Hearing Alfie in hot pursuit, she doubled back and ran to where they had begun by the oak tree, hiding herself behind its enormous trunk. Always a quieter creature of the woods than Alfie, who still crashed around unceremoniously, she giggled to herself to hear him in the distance, sending the birds flying upwards in alarm, rabbits scuttling off before him down the paths. He was hopeless at the pheasant shoot because he shouted and whooped so much he alarmed all the birds and his father had been angry and forbidden him to join in until he learned to behave.

    'I do it on purpose,' he admitted, 'it gives the poor birds a chance, you know.' She, however, knew him too well. He simply liked to create a stir and disrupt everything; he had a talent for it. She smiled to herself indulgently. Despite his faults, Alfie was full of charm and good humour and everyone always forgave him his high spirits.

    The crashing about had ceased. Alfie had become quiet and she listened hard. No sound. Ellie waited, heart pounding.

    She screamed as he came up behind her all of a sudden and seized her in his arms.

    'Got you! Got you, young lady!'

    She felt his arms slacken around her and her heart beat wildly. His hands moved over the hard bones of the corset under her camisole as if they were a barrier through which he strived to feel her soft flesh. It was a pleasant sensation, making her quiver inside with excitement. Now she felt fear and confusion. She understood what it all must mean, yet at the same time understood nothing and was afraid. They turned round to face one another. They were transfixed with one another's eyes for a long, long time. Alfie, closing his own eyes as if he dared not look, bent towards her and gave a swift kiss, then again, firm and lingering. Holding her tight with one arm, lips still on hers, he began clumsily to unbutton his trousers. They sank down together upon the soft pile of autumn leaves.

    A short sharp stab of pain. The glorious hazy mist of delight that obscured her heart and mind lifted and cleared away with the shock. She seemed to realise that they were committing some sort of sin but didn't care anymore. There was no way she could stop now it had begun, nor did she wish it. Alfie's mouth was on hers and tasted like marmalade at breakfast or devil's kidneys– such strange thoughts that flashed through the mind even at a moment like this. He was inside her now, fully inside her own body and that was the oddest sensation she had ever known.

Ellie dressed with haste. Alfie, turning away from her, pulled on his trousers. They couldn't bear to look at one another. Suddenly it was all over and with the ebbing of the strong sensations that had brought them together like magnets, came the shamed realisation of what they had done.

    'Ellie…'he reached out a hand to her but she ignored it.

    'Ellie, I'm sorry... I led you to this. I'm so sorry.'

    'I'm all wet, Alfie. It's horrid.'

    'It's my fault. Now you're angry with me. But we mustn't let anyone know, must we? Ellie, must we? Here take my handkerchief.'

    He looked away as she cleaned herself then threw the handkerchief into the bushes. She was in turmoil – not sure whether to laugh or cry. It had been
so
strong, the longing, the utter need to feel him within her. He had always been a part of her heart and soul but now a physical part of her too. It hadn't felt wrong or bad to let him make love to her. That urgent and irrepressible need satisfied, euphoria was followed by remorse and fear – on Ellie's part at least. She felt that Alfie looked rather pleased with himself.

    'It was wonderful though, wasn't it?' he whispered as they walked back to the house.

    'I'm not sure. I have to think about it. I feel frightened now.'

    'There's nothing to be frightened about. No one will know. You must say nothing to anyone. My father would kill me if he knew,'

    'Y
our
father! What about mine? Alfie, I am not stupid.'

    Lord Dillinger and Ellie's father, Joshua Farnham, were away in London and thankfully, both their mothers were occupied elsewhere. Ellie didn't feel she would be able to face her mother; she'd be sure to give herself away somehow. She felt it was emblazoned upon her forehead...
I am not a virgin any longer.

    As they approached the house they were greeted instead by George and Ben, Alfie's younger brothers, who sped up to them as they always did, demanding that they participate in a game of cricket on the lawn or a ramble over the fields.

    'Where've you been such ages?' demanded George, 'We've been looking for you.'

    'In the woods, I expect,' piped up Ben in all innocence, 'they're always in the woods.'

    Alfie and Ellie looked at one another, their minds occupied with the same idea. Suppose the youngsters had found them! Alfie laughed aloud at the thought. He had no fear, his brief moment of shame already evaporated. Ellie realised he saw it as a huge joke. In a way, she admired this fecklessness but at the same time felt a little angry, her heart beating at the thought of their narrow escape.

    They were allowed to join their parents at dinner later and it was a relief not to have the younger boys or little baby Charlotte chattering around them all the time. As Ellie picked at the food on her plate, her mind still awhirl with anxiety and remorse, she knew she was not a silly fun-loving girl any more. How could it be that a mere physical act could make her feel so different? She couldn't bear to look at Alfie and their usual laughing and joking died in silence that evening. He tried hard but Ellie could not bring herself to respond as normal.

    'You're very silent tonight, Eleanor,' said Lady Mary looking at the young girl anxiously, 'I trust you have not caught a chill, my dear.'

    Ellie looked up from the half-eaten food on her plate and put down her fork.

    'I am not too well, Lady Mary. Perhaps... perhaps I am feeling a little chilled by the autumn air. Maybe I'll lie down after dinner, if you have no objection?'

    'Good heavens, of course, my dear, of course.'

    'I'll send Mulhall up to you with a little broth later,' said Maria Farnham, looking anxiously at her daughter. 'It's not like you, dearest. You're usually so robust.'

    A long two weeks had passed since this tumultuous incident occurred. That autumn day in the woods would be a vivid memory for the rest of Ellie's life and just now occupied all her waking thoughts. She could not help feeling shocked by it all, startled by her new understanding of what a man was really like. All she had ever seen of a naked male was her furtive study of the fig-leafed Tritons that adorned the marble fountain at Oreton Hall. The reality was so different. She could never be the same after this. For the first time she comprehended just what Adam and Eve had felt about their nakedness. They had eaten of the Tree of Knowledge and could never feel pure and innocent again and walk in the sight of God. That she regretted.

    Back home again at the Farnham house in London, Ellie was upstairs in her mother's room where she often came to sit and ponder when her mind and heart were full. A book of Tennyson's poems lay on her lap, open at her favourite 'The Lady of Shalott' and she murmured half aloud:

'...when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
"I am half sick of shadows," said

The Lady of Shalott.'

And she sighed deeply and felt her heart opening up with an almost agonizing pain of longing. She wanted to be back at Oreton Hall with Alfie and, yes, shameful as it seemed, back in the woods, his hands touching her body again, the feel of flesh on flesh, his entering into her. Her body shook with the intense longing. A tear trickled down her cheek. Was she really so shameful and all this very evil and wrong of her? Was it wrong to love and wanting that love to become a physical expression? She was astonished that it did not happen more often if it was as difficult to resist as this. She knew that she was not a person without discipline or sense. What powerful force was this that had overcome them both so easily?

    Feeling lost, she gazed about the room redolent with her mother's gentle presence. Ellie often sat here for hours on the old carved chair that was like a throne, looking out of the window over the garden. Through the passing years the sycamore trees had grown tall, half-shrouding the window with their leafy foliage, creating a constant quivering twilight within.

    The fireplace, which always seemed too large for the room, was surrounded with carved oak panelling that rose from the mantle to the ceiling. Maria always kept a fire going in the grate for she also liked to come in here when she wished to write or read and was aware of her daughter's habit of slipping in now and then. The warm glow of the coals took away the darkness: a warm heart at its centre. Though the room was dim and shrouded, it was never dismal in Ellie's eyes; rather it felt a peaceful place. Nothing ever seemed to change in here. Everything was in its familiar place and this had a comforting feeling about it. It was the one sure, stable, unchanging place in the world and she felt something of her mother's strength just by being there.

    Maria, always a woman ahead of her time, had not left her uneducated or ignorant of life's details as so many mothers did. Thus, added to Ellie's sense of betrayal, was the fear that she might be with child. She turned the idea over with all its implications.

    In the end, why be concerned? She knew these things happened and had overheard gossip about couples who were obliged to marry in haste. Of course, she and Alfie w
ould
marry; it was what everyone desired and expected. It must be. Mustn't it?

    Maria came in to find her daughter seated by the window, looking pensive and sad.

    'What is it, dear child?'

    Ellie kept her head turned away. She could not speak about it. Speaking might make it all seem prosaic and lose the magic. Parents would be bothered about the silly practical details, especially her father.

    Her mother smoothed her cheek with her hand in the old familiar, comforting manner.

    'Can't you tell me, Ellie? You've been distracted of late. I worry that you're not eating well. Are you sickening for something, dearest?'

    Ellie forced a smile. 'No, no, Mama, I'm very well. I'm... I'm just being a little vain. I want to lace myself a bit tighter to fit my lovely new dress. I want to have the tiniest waist in the world!'