‘It’s Toscanini!’ she exclaimed. ‘Look, Rachel. It’s Toscanini.’
Rachel looked up, but the darkness had rushed in already. She spat and wiped her mouth with her handkerchief. ‘This penchant for seeing famous musicians amounts to a mania, my dear Masha. There’s probably some deep psychological cause for it.’
‘He was there. And he looked half-mad.’
‘Tell Professor Freud all about it.’
‘And now I’ve missed the rice pudding,’ Masha mourned. She was still hungry, but as usual after vomiting, Rachel was restless and wanting distraction.
‘Let’s go to the bar and have a beer. Perhaps you’ll see Mozart there.’
Southampton
Rosemary waited until Luella Hennessey’s breathing grew regular and deep. The devoted family nurse had been given the bed next to hers, an unlikely watchdog between Rosemary and the door. But Luella was tired after a day dealing with the younger children, and Rosemary knew how to wait. She was adept at the whole thing, easing the bedclothes off, sliding her legs out, slipping on her dress without a sound. She knew how to open and close the door without so much as a click. She’d had a lot of practice.
Outside, she slipped on her shoes. She was giggling to herself as she flitted down the corridors of the hotel. Because of the war – she already hated the war – the lights were turned down almost to nothing at all.
She met nobody on the stairs. The place was as dead as a graveyard at two in the morning. But Cubby had left his door unlocked, as he had promised. She glided in without a sound, her heart starting to race. Cubby was her darling. There was nobody like Cubby. He never did anything that frightened her or hurt her. He wasn’t like everyone else, even her brothers, who got impatient with her and pushed her away when they’d had enough of her. His love for her was something new in her life: a love that didn’t ask her to be any different from what she was, never yelled at her or mocked.
Cubby was awake, reading a paperback in bed. She jumped on to him joyfully.
‘Oh God, I’ve missed you,’ she moaned, hugging him tightly. ‘Oh God, oh God.’
He squirmed under her substantial weight. She was all knees and elbows, digging into uncomfortable places on his body. Her mouth, wet and hot, locked on his and flooded it with saliva. He managed to roll her off, though she was strong and determined. ‘Rosie. You came!’
‘’Course I came. Didn’t you want me?’
‘I want you more than anything in the world.’
‘Good.’
‘Are you sure nobody saw you leave?’
‘I’m not stoopid.’ She jumped up and in one fluid movement, hauled off her dress. She was naked beneath it, her full breasts rebounding. She came back to him, bringing an intoxicating wave of her body scent. ‘Kiss me properly.’
He was always shocked at her daring, she who could be so timid in public. ‘Honey, put your clothes back on.’
‘Why?’
‘We agreed—’
‘Are you afraid Mother will burst in?’ She put on her mother’s stern face and voice. ‘Mister Hubbard. Phwhat are you doing with my daughter? Don’t you know that Jesus H. Christ and all his angels will punish you with eternal hellfire?’
‘Please, honey,’ Hubbard begged, ‘put your dress back on.’
She blinked at him, her face flushed. ‘Don’t you want me?’
‘More than anything in all the world.’
She reached between his legs. ‘I want you, you, you.’
‘We said we would wait.’
‘I’m no good at waiting.’
He tried to prise her fingers off. ‘It’s one of the things we all have to learn, honey.’
Her skin prickled all over with disappointment. ‘We did it before. Why can’t we do it now?’
‘There’ll be plenty of time for all that.’
‘When we’re married?’
‘Yes, when we’re married.’
‘You promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘My hubby, Cubby!’ She snuggled up beside him, sliding a strong leg across him. ‘You’ve promised. You can’t break a promise.’
‘I never break my promises.’
‘I get scared when I think you don’t want me any more.’
‘I’ll never stop wanting you. You’re the most wonderful girl in the world.’
‘Say it again!’
‘You’re wonderful.’
‘Again, again!’
‘I’ll get your name tattooed over my heart.’ Cubby stroked her hair. ‘I have to tell you something. Your brother Jack came to see me today.’
She cringed. ‘What did he say?’
‘He said your mother wants me to go away.’
Her fingernails dug into him. ‘Don’t,’ she said fiercely.
‘I’m not going anywhere. I told him that, too.’
‘Did you tell him we’re going to get married?’
‘Yes. He wasn’t very impressed.’
‘I don’t care. I’m going to be Mrs Hubbard,’ she said passionately.
‘Yes, baby, you are.’
‘And we’ll have our own home. Our very own.’
‘Yes, my Rosemary Rose.’ She was rubbing her thigh over his loins. With Rosemary warm and naked in his arms, he was finding it terribly hard to control himself. She was supremely confident in this, if in little else in her life. Sex came to her with the naturalness of a healthy, lusty, wild animal. A lioness, as the Kennedy boy had called her this morning. She felt no guilt about her body, no inhibitions about her desires. He knew she had been with other men, that they’d abused her naiveté, got her to do things. He hated to think of those others to whom she had given herself so artlessly. But he knew that none of it had touched her. She was still innocent, pure in a way he’d never seen in anyone else.
‘Our very, very own home. With fine things everywhere. And Jack and everyone will come to visit us there. And they’ll see all my fine things all around, won’t they?’
‘As fine as I can afford,’ he said, smiling.
‘And they’ll see me there with my beautiful baby. Being a wonderful mother. And the baby calling me Mamma. And they’ll treat me just like one of them. I won’t be “empty head” any more.’
He kissed her tenderly. ‘No, my darling.’
‘I won’t be “retarded” any more, will I?’
‘I hate that word,’ he said. ‘Please don’t use it.’
‘And we’ll go for rides on your motorcycle.’
‘You bet.’
‘I’ll hold on tight, tight.’
‘You’ll never let me go.’
‘Do you really love me?’ she said, looking into his face eagerly. ‘Really and truly?’ Her lips were parted, her green eyes luminous. She had a slight squint. It sometimes gave the impression that she was looking not at him, but past him, to something beyond. It was the only flaw in her beauty and it melted his heart. He cupped her soft, rounded cheeks in his palms. He could scarcely believe that this lovely woman could be his.
‘You are my life, Rosemary.’
‘I’m so happy when you say that.’ She straddled him, rubbing herself against him. ‘Cubby, my Cubby, my own Cubby!’
‘Rosemary, wait,’ he gasped.
She was panting with excitement, her hips thrusting rhythmically. The softness of her body was enfolding him. He knew that now she was in her stride, there was no stopping her. It was cruel to even try. He took hold of her mobile hips and in seconds he was inside her. She gave a broken cry as he pushed deep into her. Her eyes had become unfocused. She smiled down at him blindly. As she began to rock, she dug her nails hard and rhythmically into the muscles of his chest. A lioness, he thought, she was a lioness conquering her prey, devouring him; and it was heaven to be devoured. Her fingers bit into his shoulders, his stomach, his arms. There would be cuts and marks in the morning to remind him of this.