Elizabeth 07: Before the Storm

"No offense, but I noticed," Alexandria said with a shy grin. "I'm sorry if one isn't supposed to comment on such things in here, but -"

"There is no need to apologize for that, Alexandria!" Elizabeth reassured her. "The first thing you need to learn about our community is that we are very open about such things."

"Just as I had always fantasized, then," Alexandria said.

"As had I," said one of Frances' friends rather timidly.

"Oh, pardon me!" Frances exclaimed. "I should have introduced you all! Everyone, this is Darla and Jeanette, and I used to care for them in the summer back home. They're both fresh out of university and in town to look for work, and when they heard of my fondness for the baths, they just had to join their dowdy old nanny for some naked fun!"

"I would hardly call you dowdy, Frances!" said one of them; I believe it was Darla. "Especially not now that I've seen you in the altogether!"

"I'd say the same to you, Elizabeth," Alexandria said, "But I think you know I already didn't consider you dowdy!"

"Quite honestly, I didn't," Elizabeth confessed. To Frances she continued, "Isn't it queer to be here with ladies we knew as children? I must admit, I don't know at all what to make of it!"

"Nor I," Frances admitted. "But I choose to be flattered that they trust me so much as to join me here now, and to appreciate how beautiful they have grown to be."

Elizabeth nodded her agreement and turned to see Alexandria grinning and looking down at her own body. Sensing she was uncomfortable, she took Alexandria's hand. "There is no need to be self-conscious here, I assure you!"

"Thank you, Elizabeth," Alexandria said. Allowing a laugh to escape, she confessed, "I appreciate that, because compared to you and Frances I have to admit I feel a bit underdressed!"

We were still laughing at that when the door made its usual loud report, and we looked up to see Lindy making her entrance. "Elizabeth!" she exclaimed, taking no notice of the rest of us. "I hardly expected to see you in here any time soon!"

"Why on earth wouldn't you, Lindy?" asked Elizabeth, who like most of us found Lindy rather tiring, though she could never dislike the woman whose meddling ways had sown the seeds of her marriage to Jonathan. "You know I never stay away from here any longer than I must."

"You just had another baby, didn't you?" Lindy asked as she slid into the water, at long last nodding a hello to the rest of us. "I had simply thought you would be too preoccupied with nursing and such." Taking note of Elizabeth's swollen breasts, she added, "Honestly, dear, it looks as though you're about to pop!"

"Thank you for the reminder, Lindy," Elizabeth said. "But I was in no danger of forgetting that!"

"Nor I," added Irene, who I had already noted was being unusually quiet this evening. "Thank you so much!"

"Oh, I meant no harm," said Lindy, evidently oblivious to the discomfort she had brought to her friends' attention. "If anything, I rather envy you. I'm sure your husbands are thrilled with all that in any event."

"Mine certainly is, if you must know," Elizabeth said. Her face broke into an irrepressible grin, then into an outright laugh.

"Clearly there is a delicious story here!" Frances said.

Elizabeth gave Alexandria a probing look, and determined that the younger woman was not only not uncomfortable, but just as curious as the rest of us. Very well, then, for better or worse, Alexandria was a member of the community now. "Delicious is just the word, Frances," Elizabeth said. With a self-satisfied look around the pool, she declared, "Last night, Jonathan...well, he drank of me, if you will!"

"Dear God, Elizabeth!" snapped Lindy. "That's disgusting!"

"You asked for it, Lindy!" I pointed out. "And it hardly looks as though Elizabeth found it repulsive in any way."

"I absolutely did not," Elizabeth confirmed. "It was beautiful, really, and he thought so as well. It had been far too long since I had felt that intimate with him, really. I recommend it should you ever become a mother, Lindy."

I could not repress a mildly haughty laugh, as it was well known in the baths that Lindy had no intention of ever settling down. She did not appear offended, though, and simply smiled at Elizabeth. "I shall keep that in mind," she said.

I chanced a glance at Alexandria, expecting her to be utterly repulsed at what Elizabeth had just revealed. Instead, she looked absolutely riveted. "Elizabeth, forgive my saying anything, but that is utterly marvellous!" she said.

"That Jonathan and I did such a thing or that I talked of it?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, I meant the latter, but both, I suppose! Heavens, what a wonderful community where such things can be shared!"

"Indeed," Frances agreed. "I remember well what a revelation that was for me as well. It's lovely to see new faces in our little community as well. With everything changing so much of late, it's encouraging to know there will always be new friends to carry on our traditions, isn't it?"

Everyone present agreed most heartily. Everyone, that is, except Lindy, who was still clearly irritated at her backfired attempt to provoke Elizabeth; and Irene, who was still very much lost in her own thoughts. I reached under the water and caressed her hand. "Everything okay, dear?" I whispered in her ear.

"No," she admitted. "Could you and Elizabeth slip away to my flat later?"

Our time-honoured tradition of retiring to the pub for drinks after the baths was out of the question while Elizabeth and Irene were nursing; and in any event we would have had no way of disinviting Alexandria politely. And so I concocted a lie about returning to the office and saw Alexandria off on the streetcar home, her face still blushing and set in a dazed grin, and accompanied Irene home.

Elizabeth arrived as soon afterward as she could, having made a detour to her home to feed Margaret. And Jonathan, she confessed after a probing look from both Irene and myself. "There was all too much to go around, after all," she added with a laugh. "I was bursting!"

"I know the feeling all too well," Irene said. "I could have slapped Lindy for reminding me of it!"

"Now then," Elizabeth said. "Pardon me for presuming the problem is Gregory, Irene. Will he be home soon?"

Irene shook her head and took a deep breath. "He slept on the couch last night," she said. "And this morning he gave me a choice: either let him back in his bed or he would take his leave entirely and stay in a hotel for the time being. I chose the latter."

"Oh dear," Elizabeth said. "I'm so sorry." She took Irene in her arms and Irene promptly dissolved into tears. "Let it out, dear, you'll feel better."

"No I won't," Irene sobbed. "Not unless the war talk blows over and he's safe. And even then..." She pulled back and flopped down on the couch. "What sort of man wants to leave his wife and baby and put himself in harm's way like that?"

"We bring our boys up to be that way," I said, sitting down next to her and reaching out to rub her back; I was mildly surprised that she let me do it. "He no doubt feels he has to do it for his own honour, and for yours in a way. As ridiculous as it may sound to you and me, he probably feels this is his only acceptable course of action."

"I'm afraid she's right, Irene," Elizabeth said. "I don't expect it to be any comfort to you, but it's true. And it's something nearly every woman in town is going to be coping with right along with you, so you shan't be alone."

"I ought to draw some comfort from that," Irene conceded. "And yet I don't."

"I doubt any of them will," I admitted.

"Any of them?" Irene demanded. "Does that mean your fellow will somehow be exempt?"

"What fellow?! You know James and I are never getting back together!"

Irene replied only with a dirty look. Elizabeth interjected, "I think she is referring to your mysterious lunch date today? You told us of it yourself, and Jonathan mentioned as well when I arrived home to feed Catherine and Margaret that you had refused to tell him where you were. It is your decision to keep it buried if you wish, Agnes, but please know we are very happy for you!"

"Indeed," Irene said with a conciliatory look at me. "Even if my own heart is breaking, I shouldn't let that stand in the way of happiness for my friends."

"Oh, good heavens, no!" I said. "It wasn't that at all! Nothing even close to that. In fact, it's only because I don't have a fellow that I'm even being..." I realized too late that I was giving away far too much of my secret, and stopped there.

But of course I had said too much for Elizabeth or Irene to leave well enough alone. "Why, this sounds juicier than any love affair," Elizabeth said with a grin.

"Who are you and what have you done to Elizabeth, if you think anything more interesting than sex?!" I demanded, hoping the light-hearted response would steer the conversation into safer waters.

Elizabeth and Irene both laughed at my comment, but they were not to be deterred. "Just what is it you are hiding, Agnes?" Irene demanded now. She had stopped crying, and I was grateful for that, until it occurred to me that my response might well trigger a relapse.

"After all we have shared, what on earth have you to hide from us?" Elizabeth prodded.

"Nothing," I conceded. "Absolutely nothing. It is only that I cannot imagine a worse time to share the news, given what you're going through, Irene."

"I trust you aren't joining the army, Agnes," Irene said. "The world has not changed nearly that much, has it?"

No, and more's the pity, I thought, though of course I said no such thing. "Of course not," I allowed. "I have...in the event that war does come, I mean, and of course I join you both in hoping it shan't, but..."

"For heaven's sake, Agnes, tell us what you have to tell!" Elizabeth prodded. "You have nothing to fear of us!"

I nodded and took a deep breath. "I have been offered a job as a war correspondent," I said finally.

Both were silent for an uncomfortable moment. It was Irene who ended the pause. "You too? Am I doomed to have everyone I've been closest to run off and join the madness?!"

"I won't be," Elizabeth reminded her, though she knew as well as Irene and myself that she did not share quite the bond with either of us that we did with each other.

"There is that," Irene said. "But Agnes, isn't it enough that all your friends back here will be fearing for the lives of their husbands every day, and now we shall be worrying about you as well?"

"I hate that as much as you do," I said. "But what's a single woman to do if war does come? Sit around here and wish I had someone to fear for when I could be doing my part?! You and Elizabeth, you have children to look after. Like it or not, I don't. What I do have is a gift for writing, and the country will need that to keep our spirits up in a war! I've given this a lot of thought, you know!"

"Have you thought you could be slaughtered just like Gregory and Jonathan likely will be?" Irene demanded.

"Irene!" Elizabeth snapped. "You mustn't think like that! I'm as terrified as you are, but we need one another to be strong. Our children, too - especially them! I know you're upset, but there's no excuse for that!"

"I know," Irene admitted. She stood up and wrung her hands, and then began pacing restlessly around the room. "I know. Of course I know. It is only...life has been going so well, you know? We're all here for one another, madly in love and raising our beautiful babies, and now something beyond all our control threatens to ruin it all, and two of the people closest to me are jumping up to participate?!"

"We're not all madly in love." I managed to say it politely, but it was a struggle.

"There'll be another for you, Agnes," Irene said. "If they're not all killed in the war. Is that why you want in on the boys' game?!"

"Irene, stop that!" Elizabeth ordered.

"No, wait!" Now I stood up as well, my fists clenched in frustration and rage. "What if that is why, Irene? What if my being alone again while you and Irene are blissfully happy with your husbands is exactly why I want in on the adventure? Just what is wrong with that, anyway? Clearly it is not the time of my life to settle down - if it were, I'd have married James or even Edward, come what may - and our country needs my talents as a writer. Is it so wrong that I want to do my part, and maybe see some parts of the world I would otherwise never see?"

"But think of the horrors you will see!" Irene protested.

"I'm afraid I must agree," Elizabeth said. "War is not like a boy's adventure story, Agnes."

"But it's a story someone will need to tell if it does come to pass," I said. "And you were the first to tell me, Elizabeth, I have a gift for telling stories!"

"Indeed," Elizabeth admitted with a sad smile.

"Don't you tell me you are believing in any of this too!" Irene snapped.

"Irene," Elizabeth began gently. "It does none of us any good to bury our heads in the sand if war does come. Someone will have to stand up and fight back, and someone will have to let us know what is happening at the front. And you and I will be just as important in holding things together back home for the children, you know that. Don't you?"

Irene gazed out the window at the empty street, deep in thought, but her eyes remained dry. "Yes," she said at last.

"Please know we agree with you that how Gregory handled all this was horrible as well," I said. "Perhaps it is only his way of coping with his own fear of what might lie ahead."

"You know men are rarely as good at confronting their feelings as we are," Elizabeth reminded her.

"How very true," Irene said. "I'm sorry I've been such a child about all this."

"No!" Elizabeth and I exclaimed in unison, and presently we three were all entangled in a cathartic, healing embrace. "Believe me, I understand," Elizabeth continued.

"I think I do, too," I said, privately relieved that I had no man to fear for.

"I'm sure you do," Irene reassured me. "I know -" I was never to know just what she knew, for at that moment Frank shattered the silence with a scream from the bedroom. "Oh, heavens," Irene said. "That's what I get for getting so wrapped up in my own problems, isn't it?"

"It happens to all mothers, that much I know!" Elizabeth said as Irene extricated herself from our arms and rushed off to collect Frank. To me she added, "I really am very proud of you for doing your part, you know."

"Thank you," I said. "I have to confess I am rather frightened. I suppose that is why I didn't want to tell you and Irene about it yet. That and I suppose I still have a bit of hope my services won't be required at all."

"I'm afraid that chance looks remote," Elizabeth said. "I hate to say it, but..."

"Don't I know it," I agreed with resignation.

Irene re-emerged a moment later, with Frank at her breast. "You are both welcome to stay a while longer if you like," she said, "But you can see my attentions will be diverted."

"I'm afraid I must do the same, the sooner the better," Elizabeth said, cupping both of her breasts in her hands. "But if you and Frank would rather not be alone tonight, you're welcome to come home with us, you know."

"Or I could stay with you," I blurted out, not considering the connotations until it was too late.

"Oh, Agnes, would you?" Irene asked. To Elizabeth she added, "Thank you, but I don't wish to inconvenience you or Jonathan."

"Of course you don't," Elizabeth said with a conciliatory smile. If she felt any jealousy at the bond Irene shared with me but not with her, there was no sign of it - after all, she had Jonathan's arms to fall into. "Honestly, I'd like to join you both for the night, but the girls will need me." She leaned over and kissed Irene's cheek, careful not to jar Frank as he drank greedily of Irene's breast; and then she took me in a full embrace. "Take good care of her for both of us," she whispered to me.

"I shall, of course," I replied, and kissed her cheek good night. I was tempted to reassure Elizabeth that Irene and I would not be making love that night, that those days were over; but I soon concluded that such a thing should go without saying after all this time.

Indeed, there was no talk of romance after Elizabeth left. There was little talk at all, for that matter; with two as close as we were, there was no need. Once Irene had put James back down to sleep, she announced with no fanfare that there was soup in the icebox for dinner if I cared for it, and I took it upon myself to heat it up. We ate in agreeable silence, broken by an occasional comment about Irene's students or my casework, and Irene insisted upon pouring me a glass of wine banishing me to the living room to relax while she washed the dishes. "But I feel horribly unfair about drinking when you can't," I said.

"I don't want the wine to go to waste," she insisted. "It could be months before I can touch it again, and it won't hold that long."

"Then you really don't intend to invite Gregory back home?" I asked against my better judgment.

"No," she said with disarming firmness. "I can forgive him feeling he needs to do this, but the things he said about me not understanding just because I'm a woman...Benjamin wouldn't have done that!"

"Oh, Irene," I said.

"I don't wish to discuss all that," she interjected. "Please just enjoy the wine and know I'm glad you're here to put it to good use!"

"As you wish." And on that note I retired to the living room. There I sat by the window and sipped my wine as I gazed out at the quiet dark street, where the outside world still looked ever so peaceful, and wondered where on earth I might be by the end of the summer. Did I want everything to go to hell just so I could rush off on some adventure? Of course not; but I did want the adventure. Of that there could be no doubt. I didn't begrudge Elizabeth and Irene their happy marriages - if indeed they were indeed happy marriages, I thought wryly as I recalled just why I was in Irene's living room - but I certainly didn't care to go on observing them both from the front row while I remained on my own. Irene's admonishment - "There'll be another for you, Agnes, if they're not all killed in the war" - echoed in my memory again and again. If only it were that simple! I had grown enough in my years in Westfordshire City to know it was not. A woman could play around a fair bit in our circles with no consequences, but that did not mean she would find true love.

When Irene had finished washing the dishes, she joined me with a glass of water and we sat chastely by the window like a couple of old maids for what probably was not very long; but it felt like an eternity to me. A bit of stalling, stilted conversation followed, interrupted only by another round of howls from Frank. While she was attending to him, I took advantage of her absence and visited the water closet. When I emerged, Irene announced that she was off to bed, and would I also be retiring?

"Certainly," I said, though I didn't feel terribly sleepy. "Shall I sleep on the sofa?"

"Don't be silly, Agnes, this is you and me," Irene admonished. "My bed shall be too cold by half without you."

"Irene -"

"We don't have to do anything but sleep," she prodded. "Tonight I need a friend and a sister, not a lover."

I gave her a knowing look, but did not argue the point any further. Irene took my hand and led me into the bedroom, where Frank was gurgling happily in his bassinet. After offering him a goodnight kiss, I retreated to Gregory's side of the bed unbuttoned my dress. I was down to my panties, and Irene in a similar state of undress, before it occurred to me that I had no nightgown to change into. Reminding myself that it was a hot summer night and it was only Irene, I slid my panties off and climbed into bed in the nude.