“Perhaps at Christmas.”
“I don't like the crossing in winter.”
“Then perhaps next spring.”
“Mother's letters are so ridiculous.”
“Do you think much about them?”
A bubbling laugh came to her lips. “One must always think about them.”
“The other day I thought about the grange. That day you called me to the barn.”
“I did not call you. On the contrary, it was you who called me.”
“You always say that.”
“Claire, it's true.”
“Not quite, darling. I have the memory of it.”
“I don't think you do. You never remember exactly. You always have it wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“Where he was.”
“In her bottom.”
“In the other place.”
“Oh dear.”
“And it was your doing, Claire. I insist it was your doing.”
Her face was hot. I could see it in the color. “That's not true and you know it, don't you, darling? I don't know why you pretend. I have a complete memory of it. I was in the garden when you called me. You made me climb up that horrid ladder. Then you pulled me to have a look at them. She was on her knees. She had her skirts thrown up and he was definitely in her bottom.”
“It's all a lie!”
Her teacup rattled. She had such bitterness in her eyes. Her lips always swell when she's angry. She has such lovely lips.
Walter is so helpless. He sits beside me in a hansom in Mortimer Street. The carriage encounters a break in the road and he pouts. “Where are you taking me?”
“To Bloomsbury, darling.”
“But where?”
“Does it really matter? I thought you were fond of my company.”
“I like to be aware of my destination.”
“Yes, of course you do.” I pat his thigh. He has such marvelous thighs. I wonder if Julie is aware of them. Delicious.
He groans to protest when my hand finds the front of his trousers. “Claire, darling, not here.”
“And why not? I think you like it. Yes, you do like it. I can feel the evidence. You like to be touched, don't you, darling? I'm surely not the first. Tell me about your other women. I imagine you've upset half the ladies in Mayfair.”
“That's not true.”
“Then not half, a third. These buttons are a nuisance, aren't they?”
“Claire, please…”
“Here we are. How sweet. Just peeping. I'll keep it covered.”
“Someone will see.”
“Don't be such a dolt. This fellow in my hand has more sense than his master. Or is it the master in my hand, after all?”
“Where are we going?”
“We'll be there soon and then you'll have the answer.”
“I don't understand you. I'm not sure I ever understand you.”
“Walter, darling, it's not necessary to understand a woman. It's the woman who must understand the man. You do know that, don't you?”
“I don't know anything.”
“Don't spend. I shall be very cross with you if you spend in my hand.”
Then finally we arrive in Bedford Way. Walter's puzzlement shows in his face. We enter the small building. We climb the stairs to the flat. I open the door with my key. We enter the flat and I close the door behind us.
Walter pleads. “Whose flat is this?”
“It doesn't matter, does it? You ought to be quite happy to be here with me. Anyway, darling, it's not this flat but the one next door that counts.”
“I don't understand.”
“Yes, of course you don't. Kiss me, won't you?”
He kisses me. I press against him. I can feel his erection. How impatient he is. He quivers with anticipation. Now he understands the fact of my presence with him in this empty flat. Empty except for bits and pieces of furnishings. A jumble of things. I haven't had time. Walter kisses me again. Now he fondles me. He murmurs. He strokes my breasts through my gown. He holds my bottom.
“I must have you.”
“You're a naughty boy.”
“Claire, please-”
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want to make love to you.”
“With this?”
“Yes, with that.”
“First a surprise.”
“Surprise?”
“Yes, darling, a surprise. I've something to show you. In the bedroom. Come along now.”
I lead him to the bedroom. I lead him to the wall separating this flat from the one adjacent to it. The slide. I move the wooden slide and a wide slit appears. A thin slit. A thin opening in the wall. A thin view into the view next door. I whisper at Walter. “Come have a look.”
How unbending he is. He stands there in his Victorian obtuseness. He whispers back at me without stepping forward. “My God, what is it?”
“It's a peep-slit, darling. I've been told this place was once a house of unsavory reputation. You must look. If you don't come here at once, I shall never allow you to touch me again.”
At last he comes forward. His face is hot. His eyes are so innocent. He stands beside me and peers with me through the slit.
Of course the scene is already begun. I know their doings. I know the schedules. Julie is already naked. She lies on the bed while Edward sits beside her. They talk of something. Their voices are low and the words are only a mumble.
Walter shudders. For a moment I fear for his health. He whispers. “Good Lord, it's Julie.”
“Yes.”
“And Edward.”
“Most definitely Edward. Now don't say another word. We don't want them hearing us, do we?”
Walter shudders again. His eyes are now glued to the slit, his head bent in the effort, his hands trembling against the papered wall.
Caught like a minnow. Walter is such a boy. I look at them again. Julie and Edward upon the bed. She lies on her side, her full breasts showing their weight. Edward leans over her and kisses her mouth. He touches one of her breasts, squeezes it with his hand. Then his hand leaves her breasts and slides over her belly to her nest. She smiles and opens her legs to him. How pretty she is. Edward strokes her. Walter and I can see everything. Edward's fingers inside. Julie closes her eyes as he strokes her. She squirms beneath his hand. I know the precise moment he touches her clitoris. I can see his fingers in her wet sex. And Walter can see. I touch Walter's trousers. I find his
