Chapter 7:
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The walk to the rooming house was nerve-wracking. Isobel learned that she had to halt Eddie before he could step off corners into traffic. It would have been better if the street had not been so crowded. People greeted them and she had to explain that he was deafblind. Then, she had to stop and chat, and men would pet him and grasp his bandaged hand. If only there were some way people could tell he was deafblind without her asking!
Eddie walked into a couple of lampposts, fell once and stumbled frequently, but did his best to make fun of himself. Still, by the time they arrived at the house he was sweaty and looked drained and uncertain. Isobel looked up the dim, steep stairs to their room and bit her lip.
"What is this place?" Eddie reached out and searched the air around him for obstacles. Isobel grasped his hand and placed it on the railing. "Stairs. How many?"
How could she tell him? She took his hand and placed two fingers in his palm, then circled her fingers and set the heel of her hand in it.
"Two and a fist… Two and zero. Twenty?" He held up his hand and she nodded into his palm. "Okay. I can do this. Onward, into the breach." He passed her his cane.
He went up very slowly, gently kicking the toes of his boots against each riser of the steps. At the top, Isobel manoeuvred herself around him and tugged him to the first door on the left. She pressed the small key into his left hand and guided it to the lock.
"Oh." He blinked rapidly and squinted at the door as he explored the lock. Behind it, Private Barker began to live up to his name. Eddie canted his head toward the noise. "Is that our dog? Is this home?" He reached out for Isobel, the key clasped in his hand, and she nodded then shook her head against the backs of his fingers. His lips twitched. "Hotel?"
She sighed. How was she going to explain it to him? He asked too many questions at once.
"Well, you have a key. It can't be your aunt's house, that's in London." He held out the key to her. "Will you do the honours, please? I can't see the key and I don't think I can unlock the lock with the wrong hand. Yet."
Isobel took the key and opened the door. She nudged Eddie forward but he wouldn't move. Instead, he frowned down at her and set his hand on her cheek. "Boarding house?"
Isobel beamed and nodded madly. Private Barker scampered around their feet and she snapped her fingers for him to go and lie down in his basket.
"Excellent. Please wait here." Eddie took a step through the door and turned back to waggle a finger at her. "Don't come in."
He propped his cane against the wall inside the door, took off his cap and set down his pack with a grunt of satisfaction. Then, he felt his way back to Isobel and swept her up in his arms. She squealed and hung on for dear life as he carried her over the threshold.
When he set her down, Isobel whisked out her two long hat pins and whipped off her wide-brimmed hat with a flourish. After poking the pins carefully into the crown, she threw it exuberantly. Eddie laughed in surprise. The hat flew across the room, skimmed the surface of the small round table and landed on the seat of one of the pair of blue Queen Anne chairs. Private Barker scrambled over and yapped at it.
"Go tae yer basket, ye naughty dog!"
Private Barker huffed sadly and followed orders.
"That's better." Eddie cupped Bella's face, leaned down and touched his lips to hers once, twice, then pressed them firmly to hers. Isobel wrapped her hand around his neck and clung to him. He touched her lip with the tip of his tongue and she opened in surprise. He licked at her. Tentatively, she licked him back. She liked it. Their kiss grew more passionate and forceful and she put all her love and desperation into it but just when it was getting really good, he pulled away and turned his face from her, his face a mask of agony.
"You should take Private Barker for a run."
"All right." Isobel whistled sharply and Eddie reflexively hunkered down. Isobel realized that it must sound, to him, like a whizzbang. The dog sat on his foot and wagged his tail. Eddie reached down with a shaking hand and patted him. Bella patted Eddie.
"Silly of me," he said in a monotone. "There are no bombs here."
Isobel sighed. "I'm sorry, love. I'll be back, straightaway." She ruffled his hair and kissed him on the head.
"Yes, you'd better take him out," he said woodenly. He bent his right arm in front of his chest and extended the other to check for obstacles as he'd been taught in the hospital. If he were to trip and fall, the bent arm would catch him and reduce the risk of breaking bones.
Isobel snapped on the leash and hurried down with the dog. Private Barker rushed to lift his leg against the nearest lamp post and she waited impatiently for him to finish up. When she went back to her room, she found Eddie sitting in the chair where she'd thrown her hat. The hat, mercifully, was on the dining table, not underneath him. She sent Private Barker to his basket and knelt at Eddie's feet. He looked as though he might cry and she'd never known him to cry. She knew in her head that it would be good for him, but her heart sped in alarm. Why hadn't she anticipated that his homecoming might stir up his grief?
"I shouldn't be here," he said roughly. "This is selfish. I'm a goldbrick now. You should imshee (i) me to an institution. I'll give you an annulment."
She gripped his face in her hands and shook him. "No, no, no!" She peppered his face with kisses until he embraced her again.
"I'm useless. What kind of husband can I be to—?"
She drew back and slapped his uninjured cheek lightly with just her fingertips, but even so, her fingers tingled a bit. He touched his cheek and stared at her mutely. She pulled herself up until they were eye-to-eye.
"I. Love. You." Ye daft beggar.
His lip trembled. He tucked his face into her neck, embraced her tightly, and sniffed. "It won't be gravy (ii) with me."
Isobel stroked his hair. "There, there, now. You're home. There'll be no more talk of hospitals and uselessness." The shoulder of her uniform grew uncomfortably warm and damp although he made no sound. At last, he drew back without looking at her and wiped his face. She unlaced his boots, removed them and took them to the mat by the door. She helped him with his leather belt and summer uniform jacket, which she hung in their small wardrobe. With her back to him, she stroked the bars on its sleeve and steeled herself. She wanted to be a proper wife. Eddie was a good, fair-minded man; he wouldn't hurt her or reject her. He was her defender and sweetheart. She trusted him, body and soul. But perhaps it was a blessing that he couldn't see more than a few inches distant just yet, given what she was about to do.
Isobel removed her apron and put it on its hook. She undid the buttons on her blouse and hung it up carefully, making sure the collar lay neatly. She loosed the buttons on her wraparound skirt, gathered it and folded it into its drawer. Her fingers trembled as she plucked apart each hook on her busk. The corset and chemise joined her skirt in the drawer. Her petticoats swished as she dropped them to the floor.
Without looking at her husband, she retrieved her boot hook from its spot atop the wardrobe and undid her buttons. Everything was returned neatly to its place.
She did not remove her silver crucifix, or the small medallions of St. Christopher, St. Joan of Arc and St. Camillus. Rather, she mouthed a secret prayer for blessings. (iii)
Isobel rolled down her wool stockings and took off her garters. She let down her hair from its pins, filled the wash basin with water from the pitcher and dropped her sea sponge into it, rose, and went to her husband.
Eddie gripped the arms of his chair, his chin tucked down and eyes squeezed shut. Isobel set the basin on the floor, placed her hands on his knees, sank to the floor between them and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. He sighed and opened his eyes.
"What are you—?" He blinked once and his eyes widened. He caught her hands and halted her movement. "You don't have to. I don't expect—"
Isobel freed her hands, grasped his wrists and set his hands on her breasts. Eddie gawped at her. He didn't move for several seconds. Then, he swallowed hard.
"Golly. You're making it awfully hard to be good."
Isobel laughed, hauled him down by the neck and kissed him fiercely. "I've missed ye sae much, ye daft beggar." At last, she could indulge a year's worth of curiosity. "And I've missed looking at this." She put her hand between his legs and had a good feel. Eddie banged his head against the back of the chair, eyes rolling. His cheeks flushed pink.
"Okay, then," he said as she tugged at his suspenders. It didn't take her long to get him out of his shirt and trousers. Beneath his undershirt, she found a gold cross and a medal paying homage to St. Michael. (iv) She tugged down his skivvies. Her breath caught. He was no longer a gangly youth. He was magnificent. All lean muscle. He also had scars she'd never seen. Everywhere. Old, white, ridged scars, including ones from the welts she'd bipped, fresh angry ones, and down his left side, an array of round red scars criss-crossed with exes. And under those, a hand-sized portion of his torso was smeared and disfigured like melted pink wax. Not a new scar, but he hadn't had it when they'd met. With a gasp, she touched it and got nose-to-nose with him, glaring.
He tucked his chin and peeked at her. "Don't be vexed with me." His gaze drifted downward to her chest.
She waggled a finger at him. "You haff been in the hospital! Since I last saw ye!"
He licked a lip that was swollen with kissing and focused on her eyes. "I was in a truck. Bloody Krauts hit it with a potato masher. (v) What was left of the men at the back… flew. I was with my Second on the bench closest to the front. We yelled at the remaining men to duck down and then the tarp caught fire. The driver couldn't stop to get us out. Happy New Year, 1916."
"Why?" she cried. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Eddie framed her face in his hands and ran his thumb over her cheek but it was dry. He caressed her mouth. "Why? Darling Bella. I was afraid you'd come to fetch me."
"Damned right I would've!" She tossed her head and nodded decisively.
"The Huns wouldnae haff stood a chance against ye," he drawled. His lips twitched as she sank onto her bottom on the floor. "Did you just swear at me? Rosie would be—Oh!"
She brushed her lips over the scar. Over each of his scars. She wrung out the sponge and began to wash him. Eddie stiffened and then his body responded favourably. Fascinated, she ran her fingers over his hardening length and watched as the shape of him totally changed. Beautiful. She wrapped her hand around him. The skin was like velvet, soft as a horse's nose. He clutched the chair, made an odd noise and emitted warm semen. Isobel had a good look at it while Eddie attempted to fade into the upholstery (which was impossible as he was red as a beet). Laughing, she sponged it off, jumped up, straddled his lap and kissed his face all over.
Eddie was so surprised, he forgot to be upset. "You're not angry?"
Isobel bit her lip and smiled. She thought it a rather good thing that their first touches were awkward. Rumour had it that the Brass encouraged married soldiers to visit Red Lamps. (vi) Judging by how flustered Eddie was, he hadn't been touching anyone else. And speaking of touching, there were lots of parts of him that she wanted to discover. Surely he wanted to explore her, too. She encouraged him to read her with his fingers. His breathing changed as their hands wandered.
He eyed her warily. "You're not afraid of me."
"No." She shook her head, brushing her lips against his.
"You're not shy," he said.
She shook her head and they rubbed noses. "Not with you."
"Damn it, I really want to have a squiz (vii) at you."
She felt her cheeks' heat. "Turnabout is fair play."
"Hm? I didn't catch any of that."
She rose, tugged on his hand, led him to the bed and pulled him down. He hovered over her without letting her feel his weight, but touched his nose to hers.
"You don't mind? You aren't embarrassed?"
Bella raised an eyebrow. "Fair."
He squinted at her. "Fae?"
"Fai-r-r-rr."
"Oh. Fair." He goosed her lightly. "And right you are, too." He eased himself to her side. "Prepare for inspection, fair lady."
Bella saluted her husband sharply and he made that soft, surprised laugh again. She forced her limbs to relax and prepared to be ogled. Instead, Eddie nuzzled her hair and touched his lips gently to her ear, her neck and shoulder. He kissed his way down to the crook of her arm, sat up and brought her hand to his lips. He looked at her knuckles, her short nails, turned her hand over and looked at her work-roughened fingers. She wanted to pull away.
Eddie pressed her hand between his bandaged one and his left. Her hands were square and capable, but dwarfed by his. He intertwined their fingers and smiled solemnly.
"I love your hands." Isobel was astonished but he kissed their backs to prove it. "I used to watch you from my bed. Nursing, sewing, making lists…" He turned them and placed them on his cheeks. "All those letters kept me alive."
"Oh, Eddie."
He stooped to kiss her, then rubbed noses and drew back with a crooked grin. He looked about the room theatrically. "Whadda ya know? We appear to be alone." His eyes darkened. "There's nobody to tell me not to touch you."
Isobel pulled his hand onto her breast. "Touch me."
He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I am going to touch you in ways that no man has done before and that no other will do again."
She nodded frantically and he laughed and kissed her cheek. "My girl." She was about to hug him when he slipped down her body and put her breast in his mouth. When he switched to the other side she swooned, but he didn't linger long. He began to kiss his way down her belly. Automatically, her hands slapped down over her privates. Eddie looked up gleefully from between her legs.
"Ah, ah, ah! Ye maun no cover-r-r up, missus. Ye belong to me, noo."
Bella rolled her eyes. "I dinnae sound like that!"
He tapped her hand with his fingertip. "You promised."
She leaned on her elbows. "I said ye could look, not –ahh!"
He tucked her leg over his shoulder and did things to her that were probably illegal, but Isobel couldn't give a whit. He used his mouth on her for a long time. Just when she feared she was about to have a seizure, he stopped and carefully lay down upon her. He aligned their bodies but did not enter.
"If it's not pleas—"
She didn't want him to bring the Frenchie into their bed. Isobel put her heels on Eddie's bottom and pulled him down hard. She felt him sink inside. They stared at one another, nose to nose.
"Oh, God." He blinked at her and quivered. "Bella?"
She kissed him firmly and he began to move. She loved the feel of him. His weight. She was greedy for it. Abruptly, he trembled, arched and moaned, then stilled and rested on his elbows. He peered at her, heavy lidded, then tucked his face into her neck and relaxed. It was nice being wrapped around him, but…
She squirmed, seeking friction, but he tensed. "Did I hurt you, darling?" She shook her head fiercely. Eddie eased himself onto his side and she rolled with him. They twined their legs together and she rested her neck on his right arm. His bandages caught her hair. She sat up, gathered it, looped it into a loose knot, and lay down again. Eddie cleared his throat. "Not to be indelicate, but there's a lot of idle talk when the men chat."
"Yes?" Belatedly, she remembered to nod and Eddie took it as permission to continue. For some reason, he turned pink.
"Some of them said that their wives find what we just did… onerous. They advised me to keep our relations as… brief and infrequent as possible."
"No!" Isobel yelped. Pushing Eddie flat on his back, she straddled him and did her best to make his business stand at attention so she could push it back inside her where it belonged, but no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't cooperate. And Eddie began to laugh about it! Flustered, Isobel tried desperately to gather him up and stuff him in, but it simply wasn't happening. Eddie pulled her down onto his chest, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
"It doesn't work like that, I'm afraid. You'll have to wait until I've had a bit of rest."
Isobel tried not to pout. After all, Eddie had just gotten out of the hospital. She tucked her head under his chin and he embraced her warmly. "Oh, my darling little woman (viii), what would I do without you?"
Two fat tears squeezed out of her eyes. She held her breath and hoped he wouldn't notice, but her tears fell onto his chest.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"I could haff lost you!" she sobbed. "So many times." She touched the burn mark, and the round scars dotting his side, until he stopped her.
"Don't get your wind up. (ix) I'm not going anywhere."
Isobel bawled all over him anyway. When she finally looked up he appeared a tad pleased with himself. She didn't know whether she wanted to hit him or kiss him. Happily, he took the decision out of her hands and kissed her goopy (x). At last, he rolled away from her and saluted.
"Reporting for duty, ma'am." Something else was standing at attention. With a glad cry, she threw a leg over and put him to work. Their second time lasted longer, and although she didn't have a seizure, it was bloody good.
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i Imshee: to go away or to make go away
ii Gravy: easy or privileged
iii Saint Christopher: patron saint of travelers. Joan of Arc: patron saint of soldiers, France and rape victims. Saint Camillus: patron saint of medical personnel. His order was the first to wear a red cross on their robes, centuries before the Red Cross was established.
iviv The Archangel Michael: patron saint of soldiers
vv Potato Masher: Trench slang for a German stick bomb, which was equivalent to a grenade. Nicknamed for its shape.
vivi Red Lamps: Ministry-approved brothels that the allied governments felt were safer from disease than women belonging to the general populace. Married men in particular were encouraged to partake so they would not miss the comforts of home. Single men were dissuaded as indulging their lust was viewed as the creation of vice. It was known for 300 or more men to wait in a queue for their turn. As the war progressed, prostitutes with gonorrhea and syphilis became more expensive to hire than healthy prostitutes. Although the diseases were incurable, soldiers knew that such infections would earn them a ticket to Blighty.
viivii Squiz: 'have a look at'
viii Little woman: the ultimate compliment an Edwardian man could give his wife was to call her by this endearment.
ixviii To get one's wind up: to be afraid
x Goopy: stupid
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