Jessica (24 page)

That evening Hester prepares Meg for the onslaught to come. Hester herself knows little of the methods of seduction but she's confident that a pretty girl left alone with a randy young man will find a way. Meg, for her part, is equally determined. She has worked long and hard to win Jack Thomas and she's not going to let him slip through her fingers now. ‘We have just a week for him to make you pregnant, my dear,' Hester tells her daughter. ‘There is no time to lose.'

‘But Mother, what if he doesn't like me? What if he won't, you know, do it?'

Hester looks into the dark eyes of her daughter. ‘He'll be thinking with what your father calls his trouser snake, my darling,' she smiles, ‘and trouser snakes, I am told,' Hester pauses and giggles, ‘are not known for their intelligence!' Both women are hysterical with laughter.

Hester plans carefully. She persuades Joe that she's concerned about Jessica's recurring sickness and that it is time to take her into Wagga Wagga to see old Dr Merrick, the Heathwood family physician. Thirty years earlier the Heathwoods had quarrelled with Dr Lethbridge in Narrandera and they had taken their business to Wagga, despite the inconvenience of two days' travel. Joe, who is genuinely concerned for Jessica, readily agrees and it is arranged for the coming Wednesday. Hester herself makes plans to visit old Mrs Baker, a distant cousin and a widow who is the organist at St Stephen's and is known to be in poor health. Finally, with everything prepared, she sends a note to Jack, giving it to a bullock driver who is passing by Riverview Station.

Dear Jack,

I have a great favour to ask of you but the opportunity to do so when you were last here did not arise. It is a small conspiracy and so of a confidential nature and I hope you will indulge an old woman but keep the details to yourself Joe has a bad back which, at the age of seventy two, isn't getting any better.

As you well know he is an exceedingly stubborn and proud man and won't listen to sense, even though Jessie, who has more influence with him than any of us, tries to tell him not to lift heavy things. He still thinks he's a young lad and as strong as a bull.

We have recently obtained a wagonload of fence posts, which the timber-getter dumped in the wrong place and these now have to be moved to the north paddock.

I am most fearful that if Joe performs this task he may damage himself and, of course, Jessica cannot do it alone.

I was wondering if, on Wednesday afternoon (as late as you like), you could come over and help Jessica load the logs onto the small dray and take them to the right location?

Joe knows nothing of this and he would kill me if he knew
I'
d asked you to help him.

So if you could possibly drop in, pretending you have work for Jessica, and, seeing the pile of logs, ask about them in my presence. I will then explain about them needing to be moved and then, if you'll offer to help load them, right there in front of Joe? We can offer you little in return, but would be delighted if you would stay for tea. I know Jessica and Meg would like that very much. Yours sincerely,

Hester Bergman (Mrs).

It is a crude enough plan but it has the virtue of simplicity and an element of truth. The fence posts do need to be moved and Joe's back has been troubling him sufficiently for Jessica to persuade him to postpone the task for several days.

The idea is for Jack-to arrive and to be told by Meg that Jessica has been somewhat unwell for some time. Joe, unbeknownst to Hester, has that very morning decided to take her into Wagga to see their family doctor. Furthermore, a message has arrived to say that old Mrs Baker has taken a turn for the worse and Hester has gone over to be with her. The combination of events has, regrettably, made it impossible to get a note over to Riverview Station in time to cancel Jack's visit. Meg is therefore left behind, alone in the homestead, but she's made a nice tea and baked an apple pie and she insists Jack stays to eat as originally planned by her mother. The rest, as they say in the classics, should see nature take its course.

There is usually very little movement on the road to Yanco before sun-up and not a lot after. Occasionally a bullock dray makes an early start to avoid the heat of the day and may be seen trudging its weary-looking way to one of the outlying stations. If such is the case on this particular Thursday early morning, its driver will be puzzled to observe Jack Thomas clattering and clanking on his way home to Riverview Station in his motor car.

Jack has slept little, with Meg proving to be a most willing partner, keeping him busy until he cries out from exhaustion. It had proved very awkward when Meg first started to be amorous with Jack who was somewhat taken by surprise. He had moved the logs on his own and had returned to the kitchen, where Meg had put out a bottle of stout for him. She'd bade him sit on a small bench at the table and poured the dark, rich liquid into a glass and placed it in front of him, and then she'd sat next to him, her thigh rubbing against his. He tries now to recall the exact sequence of events, his mind back in the Bergman kitchen.

Jack is unable to move without sliding off the side of the bench. He is nonplussed and brings the glass to his lips to conceal his embarrassment. Now he feels Meg's hand placed boldly on his thigh.

He brings the glass down from his lips and places it back on the table.

‘Ah, I don't think we should, er ... I'm not sure,' he stammers.

Meg laughs. ‘It's a present, a going-away present, just a little kiss, Jack.' She is surprised at her own boldness and at how easily the words come.

‘Meg, we're not walking out together,' Jack says doubtfully.

‘But we should be, Jack, I have always wanted you.'

‘Wanted me?' Jack looks at her, surprised.

‘To walk out with me,' Meg laughs.

‘Well, it's not like that, see,' Jack manages, ‘I'm sort of ... well, Jessie.'

‘We both love you, Jack,' Meg says quickly, stopping him from going any further. ‘Don't you want me to say goodbye to you properly?' Meg rises slightly and kisses Jack on the cheek. She smells of rosewater and her lips are soft against his rough, stubbled skin. Her hand now rests between his legs and Jack knows that she will soon feel his rising, feel him coming alive. He tries to fight back the urge that overcomes him. ‘Meg, I mustn't.'

‘Mustn't what, Jack? Mustn't let me give you a little farewell kiss, a little present to take to the war?' She takes Jack's head in both her hands and turns him towards her and kisses him gently on the lips, her kiss lingering. Meg is beginning to get excited herself. Suddenly she rises from the table. ‘Come, Jack.'

Jack is afraid to rise, afraid his reaction to her kisses will show through his trousers, but Meg pulls at his hand. He rises slowly, and Meg turns and kisses him as he stands. ‘Come and get your reward, my brave soldier going to war,' she coos.

Meg leads Jack into Hester's bedroom which still contains the marriage bed which Joe has not shared for many years. The linen is freshly starched and the bed wears the prettiest rose and blue coloured quilt Meg herself has appliqued.

‘No, Meg, really,' Jack says, pulling back, ‘I can't, please, I mustn't.'

Meg stops and turns to him and her large, dark eyes fill with tears. ‘Jack I want to give you this present. I want to give you what I value the most.' She gives a pitiful little sob. ‘Now I see I'm not good enough for you. Not good enough for the high and mighty Jack Thomas.' She gives a second little sob and looks up at him. Bending her forefinger, she wipes a single tear from her cheek.

Jack doesn't know what to say. ‘Of course you are, Meg. You're beautiful, it's just that me and .. .' His voice trails off.

‘It's only a little present. It's all a country girl has got to give. Something only you and I will ever know about, Jack. It can be our secret forever.' Then she adds, ‘Poor Jack, don't be concerned, it is only little me saying goodbye. I am so very proud of you, you know, volunteering to fight the Germans.' She bursts into tears and sits on the bed. ‘Jack, you may die, you may never come back,' she says in a sad little voice. ‘May I not have this at least to remember you by?'

Jack looks down at the distraught Meg. She is achingly beautiful and her snowy breasts heave most enticingly with her distress, for somehow the top four buttons to her blouse have come loose and he can see the warm, firm flesh rising and falling.

He quickly moves over to Meg and puts his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. ‘Meg, please .. .' Meg grabs his hand and places it against her eyes so that the wetness of her tears is felt on the back of his hand. Then she kisses his hand and pulls it downward so that it rests on her breast. Jack feels he must surely burst through his moleskins. She places her free hand about Jack's neck and pulls him down to her so that Jack is forced to go onto his knees in front of her. She looks directly into his eyes, her own shining with her sweet tears. ‘Do you hate me so much, Jack, that you would humiliate me so?' She sobs and throws herself at him, embracing him, whimpering against his chest.

Jack can contain himself no longer. Her heat is against him and he thinks he must die from his desire to take her.

‘No, no, Meg, you are lovely,' he gasps, overcome with the need to tear her dress from her body.

Meg now smiles brilliantly through her tears and then pushes him gently away and rises from the bed. As she stands upright again her skirt mysteriously drops from her waist to the floor and at the same time the last two buttons on her blouse seem to have unfastened so that her breasts now rise high above a straining bodice, half of one nipple showing pink and sublime.

Meg steps neatly out of her skirt as though she hardly notices it's fallen from her waist. It is all done seemingly in one movement whereupon she reaches out and turns the lamp down and then bends over the glass to blow it out. Jack is thus presented with the sight of her pantaloons curving out from her tiny waist and pointing deliciously at him, the cotton material pulled tight and smooth over her derriere, her shapely calf and trim ankles also showing to their very best effect.

Jack senses he has one last opportunity to make his escape, but he knows as well that he will not take it. His earlier resolve has leaked from him like water through a kitchen sieve and he trembles at the knees. ‘Oh, God,' he groans, his entire body now filled with desire. Meg is a very pretty thing indeed, well beyond the wildest dreams of most young men and she has driven him way beyond any reason.

With her back to Jack, Meg now removes her blouse and bodice then turns to face him. In the half light her lovely breasts, free of all constraints, are heaving invitingly. Meg smiles. If she is feeling self-conscious standing near naked for the first time in front of a man, she does not show it. She cups her breasts in her hands and lifts them slightly as though she is offering them to him. Jack's mouth is dry and his tongue frantically works around the roof of his mouth, trying to regain its moisture. Now Meg's hands leave her breasts, which drop no more than an inch, firm and round with the nipples pointed upwards. She runs her hands down the smooth curves of her waist and effortlessly slips her pantaloons down over her legs as though her hands have found them in error and they have peeled off her hips and legs as though intended to do so by nature. She steps out of her underwear to finally stand nude in front of Jack. Meg allows him but a moment to see her beautiful body before she steps forward and puts her arms about his neck and pulls him towards her. She can feel Jack trembling against her and she senses he is ready and cannot contain himself much longer.

‘Oh God, I must have you, Meg,' he groans. ‘I must take you now!'

Meg goes onto her tip-toes and kisses him on the mouth.

‘Oh Jack, you are so handsome,' she whispers. Jack's hands go frantically to his belt as Meg begins to unfasten the buttons of his shirt and then pulls it over his head and casts it aside as his trousers drop to his boots. Jack, with his pants now about his ankles, sits on a small stool beside the bed, tugging desperately to remove his boots.

With the moonlight streaming through the window, Meg pulls back the sheets, her beautiful body turned half sideways to Jack. She looks over her shoulder and smiles almost wistfully. ‘Come, Jack,' she says softly, ‘come and get your going-away present.' Then she slides between the fresh sheets, holding them up to her chin. ‘Come now Jack Thomas, my soldier of the King,' Meg giggles. ‘Show me how you fire your gun.'

In the early hours of Thursday morning, as Jack sits brooding in the De Dion on the way to Riverview, he knows that the temptation had been too great for him to resist. That Meg was a dish too sweet not to savour. If it should ever happen again, he now tells himself, he will be well able to resist her future advances. But Jack senses that he is deluding himself — he knows his willpower does not possess sufficient strength to refuse a body as tempting or lips so soft. He is well aware that he has been seduced and is not so arrogant nor so stupid as to deny the pleasure he has derived from Meg's body, or even so naive as to tarnish the experience with a fit of conscience. He has come away in wonderment at the delight of Meg's body and her female ways, but he is also aware he has betrayed Jessica and that his manhood has ridden roughshod over his sensibilities. He knows it's pointless to feel remorse, though his guilt is quite clear to him. Now, with the dawn breaking, he wonders why his thoughts are not singularly of the beautiful Meg, but are instead persistently of Jessica.