The Lady and the Locksmith (6 page)

Dr. Finnegan spoke about Susannah’s ‘condition’ for a good ten minutes, and used a number of impressive words, but at the end of it Carl was sure that Finnegan didn’t understand a woman’s emotions any better than any other man.

Finally, Susannah was sent for and she came back into the room with a look of innocent hopefulness on her face.

‘Finnegan refuses to help us,’ Carl said, and watched the hope fade from her lovely face. ‘But he’s promised not to harm us either – so perhaps we can help ourselves.’

Susannah’s expression lightened, and she thanked the doctor profusely, as if he had saved their lives.

Carl glanced back, as they left the room. Dr Finnegan had a telephone - a shiny brass contraption – sitting smugly on his desk. The doctor moved to touch it, and then hesitated, resting his fingers there, without lifting up the receiver. He’ll wait until we’re gone, thought Carl, and then all he has to do, is lift that up and ask for Fortescue. We are done for, if he does that.

Carl bought her a cheap ring, on their way to the boarding house, and Susannah kept admiring the way it caught the light and saying how pretty it was. Carl knew it wouldn’t fool the landlady, but it seemed impolite not to try.

 
They could only afford one room, and the room was poor and mean.

 
‘No view,’ he observed, glancing around. ‘No water in the washstand jug … and not even a lock on the door!’

‘Good,’ said Susannah. She flopped down onto the bed as if she had lived there all her life.

But Carl was wary of people bursting in, so he put a chair in front of the door. Then he came and unbuttoned Susannah’s boots for her, so she could rest her aching feet. ‘Does it worry you,’ he asked, ‘that we must pretend to be man and wife?

‘Oh, I’m not going to pretend,’ she said. ‘My feelings for you are real. You can do what you want with me now.’

Carl drew in a sharp breath, surprised at her boldness – but then it dawned on him that she didn’t really know what she was offering him, and he must hold himself in check. He sat down and put his arm around her, meaning to seem protective and gentlemanly.

‘What I want, sweet girl, is for you and I to lie on the bed, and plan what we must do.’

Susannah threw her arms around his neck, full of nervous excitement. ‘Oh, Carl! Can we kiss at the same time?’

‘Kissing is very distracting; we must make plans for tomorrow. We must find someone else who can help us, my love, or we will be parted again.’

‘Let no man put asunder what love has joined together,’ she said, excitedly. ‘We must hold hands very tightly, and then we two will be as one.’

‘Susannah,’ he began, nervous about what he had to say. ‘Do you understand what goes on between a man and a woman?’

She shrugged. ‘How do I know what I don’t know?’ she said, perfectly reasonably. ‘I asked Dr Finnegan to explain it to me and he said it would disturb my mind.’

Carl frowned, thinking of her doctor playing god like that, keeping her in ignorance. ‘Is that what you think, too?’

Susannah took his hand, ‘I don’t know about my mind, Carl, but my body is restless and longs to know more.’

‘Then I suppose I must try to tell you.’ He paused, thinking of a way to explain it to her. She was no ordinary girl, and he didn’t want to frighten her. After some moments of hesitation, an idea came to him.

‘You know when I came to mend that door,’ he began.

She smiled. ‘That was such a happy day.’

‘Yes,’ he said. He stroked her hair and held her close. ‘Well, the woman is like the door.’

‘A woman is not much like a door, Carl.’

‘Just listen to the rest of it before you tell me I’m wrong.’

‘Go on.’

He was feeling a little awkward now. ‘The man … the man holds the key.’ Then, he took hold of her hand, and put it
there
, against his body, so she could feel his hardness through his trousers.

Susannah moved her hand tentatively, exploring him. Carl closed his eyes for a moment, and hoped he wouldn’t moan out loud.

She considered the matter. ‘It isn’t much like a key, either, for it is long and smooth and warm.’ She curled her whole hand over it, and Carl had to put his hand on hers, to stop her from exciting him any further.

‘It is the part of me that longs to be inside you,’ he explained. He was glad that she didn’t seem alarmed. She lay quietly in his arms, taking in the information, still touching him surreptitiously with her fingertips. Carl moved her hand, and placed it over his heart instead.

‘Susannah, do you even understand … which part of your body …’ Carl found it difficult to continue, but thankfully, she seemed to want to make it easy. She moved her right hand – the one that lay so sweetly on his chest, where his heart faltered for her – and let it slip down over her own belly, sliding it down across the fabric of her dress, down to the place between her legs.

‘This is where I yearn for you, Carl. Instinct tells me that I need you here.’

Dear God, he wanted to meet that need. He was burning up, and all he wanted to do was plunge his aching, throbbing shaft inside her. Only some deep thrusting and the sweet, sweet release that must follow would make this fever go away. But she was innocent, unspoilt, and vulnerable. With difficulty, he restrained himself, and lay quietly stroking her hair.

‘Tell me what happens,’ she said.

He nodded, patient and tender, kissing her face, smoothing her hair. ‘The man puts his key into the barrel, and it fits perfectly.’

‘But he does not turn it,’ she said, trying to follow his meaning accurately.

‘Not generally, no. It is more the action of sliding the key in - that gives them both such pleasure. Slide in and ease out, as many times as they want.’

Her face was flushed with excitement. ‘We must try. We must see if the key fits.’

His body ached with a keen desire that he knew he must suppress. He must not take advantage of her now. ‘No. Sweetheart. This is the reason the doctor wouldn’t tell you. We are not married – it would be wrong. If I did it to you now, it would be a violation of you, my love. I’ll wait til I can make you my wife.’

‘Marry me tomorrow. Love me tonight.’

Oh, how he wanted to love her! But he knew he must not.

So they lay on the bed, fully clothed, and Carl resigned himself to spending the night like that. He kissed her forehead and told her that tomorrow they’d see about getting wed.

‘Imagine,’ she said, and gave his arm an excited squeeze. ‘Me - a married woman! Married at eighteen!’

Carl’s heart lurched. He cursed inwardly, and pressed his lips once more against her soft skin. She wasn’t yet twenty-one. She was under the age of consent. Of course she was. He’d never asked, because he hadn’t wanted to know. He closed his eyes and waited for tomorrow to come.

T
HE CLERGYMAN WAS SYMPATHETIC – but unable to help them in their plight. Standing in the little porch at the vicarage, Carl turned his cap round and round anxiously in his hands, and listened while the vicar told him no. He heard the words and nodded, but all the time he watched Susannah walking in the churchyard, fresh as a summer’s day in her pretty white blouse and a long grey skirt that hugged the slim curves of her hips. She wore her hair piled up high today, topped with a jaunty straw boater. The blue ribbon at the back fluttered in the breeze. Carl sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. She’d be heartbroken when he had to tell her.

They could not wed today, or any day. Not without Fortescue’s blessing.

He knew what would happen. They would go here and there and hear the same tale. Go home, young man. We can’t help you. You’re on your own. Your intentions are noble, but we won’t let you live up to them. You can live with her in sin, until your money runs out and you have to admit defeat…

Carl had heard enough. He bid the clergyman good day and took Susannah home. He supposed the little room at the boarding house qualified as their home for now.

Carl had persuaded the landlady to let him buy a cheap lock for their bedroom door. He fitted it himself, thinking that he and Susannah might need the privacy. It would give them a moment of warning, too, if anyone found their hiding place.

Susannah sat on the bed and watched him. He tested out the lock, as soon as he had fitted it. The key turned easily. ‘Does it bother you,’ he asked, ‘being locked in here with me?’

‘I don’t mind,’ Susannah said. ‘As long as I can hold the key.’

So, he took the key and put it in the palm of her hand, and she curled her fingers around it, as if she never wanted to let it go.

Carl stroked her cheek. ‘Are you planning to hold it tight like that all night?’

‘No. I want to hold
you
tight, Carl, if only you will let me. I shall leave the key here, under my pillow.’

He sighed, longing to give in and join her on the bed.

Gently, she encouraged him to sit down next to her. ‘You
are
my husband, Carl. You’ve proved that in so many ways. You have risked all for me, and I want us to be together, even if it’s only for tonight.’

Carl felt the unfamiliar sting of tears welling up in his eyes. Fortescue would catch up with them soon. It was inevitable.

Perhaps she was right. They could enjoy this one stolen night together, as if they were man and wife, if he could only set aside his principles for an hour or so.

An hour would end her innocence, forever.

‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Touch me.’

Carl knew he could fight this feeling no longer. He nodded, powerless to resist her invitation. He came and sat near her on the bed.

He began by unpinning her hair for her, placing the pins on the bedside table, one by one. He ran his fingers through the coiled locks of hair, releasing them, lifting them away from her neck, so he could put gentle kisses there instead. After that, he undid those irresistible little buttons down the front of her blouse – the ones he had longed to touch all day. He helped her take her bodice off, and lay it down beside the bed.

Then, he asked her to stand before him.

He laid his hands on her waist. The fastening on her skirt yielded to him soon after, and he tugged down her petticoats as well. He pulled her down to sit upon his knee.

Her stays. He gazed, lovingly, at her breasts, pert and perfect, encased in her white cotton stays. He touched the little ruffles that decorated the bust line, tracing his fingers down the seams. Her breathing quickened as he touched. The gentle rise and fall of her bosom became more definite - the longer he kept his hand there, the more definite it became - and a pretty pink blush came stealing across her skin.

‘Susannah,’ he murmured and lent forward to place a kiss where she blushed, warm and sweet. Ah, she smelt delectable too, as he placed his lips against those irresistible little curves. She made a hushed, soft, sound – the sound of a woman longing to make love. With desire rising rapidly in every part of his body, Carl left off from kissing and concentrated all his attention on releasing her from her stays. His fingers were infinitely tender and gentle, but his heart raced rapidly now.