My seat was next to the window in a row of three, and his was in front of me, but he moved to the one beside me and I tried to act as though pleased, though on a plane I like to be left to myself, as the clouds and the sky and drone of the motor all make me feel dreamy, and dreams are a solo enterprise. However, his intentions were clearly friendly and I responded as well as I could. I suddenly realized, though, as he kept asking how I liked it, and if it made me nervous at all, that he assumed I’d never been on a plane before. So, once again, as when he brought up the Social Register, I had to cut him down to size. I said: “Oh no-I don’t mind flying at all-never did. Even when I was little, and we flew to St. Louis each year, I loved it even in rough air, when the plane would go down and everyone was scared to death. Once I yelled ‘Whee!’ and my mother spanked me but quick. And then naturally my father had to make made out like he was really annoyed too.”
“I find myself wondering about this father of yours. Who was he, Joan?”
“Lawyer. As I’ve told you.”
“… He still living?”
“I don’t really know-and don’t care.”
He took the hint and cut off the questions-for a while. But then after we’d been flying perhaps two hours he resumed, and I thought it best to cover the subject, of my parents and the falling out we’d had, once and for all, so once it was done, I’d not have to do it again. “I had a brawl with my mother,” I explained, “over a boy she’d picked out for me, a rich boy from one of the steel families. But he bored me to tears, and when I refused even to consider marrying him, she put me out, and instead of standing up for me my father stood beside her. I’ve made my own way since, with what results you already know. If I don’t seem as refined as a girl with my background should, it’s being on my own from seventeen on, and not in the best of situations, that’s done it.” I shrugged away the sympathetic look he was giving me. “I wrote my mother when I got pregnant, but never heard from her-or him, as perhaps should go without saying. That was when I knew for sure I’d been cut off but good. Of course, no parent can be expected to respond with enthusiasm to the news that their unmarried daughter is pregnant. It’s not as though anyone else was too excited either-Ron’s enthusiasm for it wasn’t visible to the naked eye, his parents’ bordered on nausea, his sister’s on galloping lockjaw. If that’s why he drank I don’t know, but it could have been, and eventually it was drinking that cost him his life, so you might say there were bad outcomes all around. But I did get one good thing out of it: my darling little Tad.”
“You’ll be pleased to know I’ve made arrangements for him, Joan- had a nursery fixed up, next to your suite, in the house.”
It was the first moment since the ceremony-no, longer, since the day he’d returned from his business in New York and said he’d marry me-that I felt warmly toward him. I caught his hand, pressed it in both of mine, then lifted it and kissed it, and meant it.
We had left Kennedy at noon, so it was something like seven New York time when we got to Heathrow Airport, but late at night in London, on account of the time differential. We’d just had dinner on the plane, and in various ways it still seemed like early evening; however, I try to adjust to what comes up. Customs took only a few minutes, and then we were in a cab, headed for town. There wasn’t much to see except streetlights, but after the snubs I’d dished out earlier when he’d tried to play mentor and guide, I thought best to act very pleased. “I just love it!” I kept saying. But it wasn’t real until we came to the city itself and were suddenly on a bridge, rolling across the river. At that hour no boats were out there, or at any rate moving around, but the lights on the water reflected in a mysterious, beautiful way, and suddenly I was overwhelmed. “It’s thrilling,” I whispered. “It’s just out of this world.” He smiled happily, at having pleased me at last.
Our hotel was the Savoy, which is on a little inset, a half square with a theatre on one side, business places on the other, and the hotel in the middle-a quiet, elegant haven off the Strand, one of their busiest streets. A doorman got out our bags and took them in while Earl paid the driver in English money he’d bought in Washington, at the same time opening my bag and stuffing some in for me, notes as big as napkins. Then we were inside and I noticed Earl took off his hat, though in an American hotel lobby men leave their hats on. He registered, and when the clerk saw who this was he as all deference. “Yes, Mr. White,” he exclaimed. “Your suite’s ready as requested-sitting room, two bedrooms, two baths. We’ll take you up in just a moment.”
While we were waiting to be taken up, people were leaving the dining room, as it was coming on for one in the morning, and the theatre crowd was going home. They were all in evening clothes, and I felt the slightest bit self-conscious in my traveling suit, which was respectable but ordinary. He saw my expression and leaned in to me. “We’ll get you a long dress tomorrow.”
I couldn’t help snapping, “I have one, thanks. It’s just packed.”
“Well then you’ll have another,” he whispered back, untroubled by my tone. Perhaps he’d been told to expect a new bride to be skittish; perhaps he remembered from the previous time he’d wed.
Just then an assistant manager came and took us up, standing around while we looked at the suite. “In the U.S.,” said Earl, “you’re given a room and you take it, if you know what’s good for you. Here they let you see it, and if you don’t like it, show you something else. Most people like it, I’m sure-but it’s nice, having a vote.”
To the assistant manager, he said: “Suite’s fine-thanks.”
When we were alone, Earl said, “Now I don’t know about you, Joan, but after a wedding, a car ride, and a plane trip, I could do with a little bed rest.”
“Oh, I’m quite tired too.”
But once more the drawstring pulled in my stomach, as I still didn’t quite know what to expect.
I found out soon enough.
Both our bedrooms opened onto the sitting room, and as he stepped into his, he half whispered, in a friendly confidential way: “I’ll be getting my things off.” It seemed to mean more to come, and when I went to my room, I couldn’t make myself undress. I put my things away, then sat down to think, but managed only to feel numb. When there came a rap on the door I called: “Come.” But I sounded muffled and strangled and queer. Then he was there in pajamas and slippers and robe. “So!” he exclaimed, very friendly. “Thanks for waiting. Now I can see the whole show.”
I’ve spoken of my temper, and now I wrestled with it, trying to hold it back. I couldn’t. “What show?” I heard myself say, sounding ugly.
“Why, as your husband, I’d like to watch you undress. Fact of the matter, I’ve been looking forward to it.”
I wanted to do what I did to Tom, flatten his ears with slaps, but did nothing at first but sit there, swallowing, trying to get myself under control. Then: “Are you sure that’s recommended?” I asked. “After all I’m anatomically normal, and might have an anatomically normal effect.”
“So? I’m normal too. All God’s children are normal. I can only go so far, but that far at least I mean to go-here, I’ll take that coat.”
He took it from me and hung it up in the closet. “Raise your arms, I’ll lift off that dress.”
I did, and quite expertly he slipped it off and let me take it. I hung it up, beside the coat, and rolled the closet door shut. That left me in bra and pantyhose, and I didn’t know which to take off first. I stepped out of my shoes, rolled the closet open again, found my trees on the floor where I’d put them, pushed them in, and set the shoes under the dress, the toes pointing to the room. Then I took off the bra, and put it on the shelf above the hangers. But as I was still reaching up, his hands were cupping me in, raising my breasts, while breath blew on my neck. I wanted to cry out, to bite, to rear away. I had to think of my darling Tad, to remember what I’d been told by Mr. Eckert, that I must never withhold what a husband could legally claim.
I said: “You can’t-your condition-”
He buried his face in the back of my neck, at the same time pulling me close, and kneading my breasts with his fingers. This time, I had to swallow hard to keep the plane dinner from spilling out on the floor. “I’d like to finish undressing,” I told him after a moment. “If you don’t mind.”
“Be my guest.”
He stepped back and I stepped from the closet back into the room. His face was flushed and he was breathing hard, but he had a smile on his face and his hands still outstretched toward me like little seeking mouths. I slipped off the pantyhose, tossing them up beside the bra, but had hardly done it before he was on me again, one hand over my heart, the other over the most private, sensitive, personal part of a woman’s body, so I had to clamp my mouth shut for fear I’d scream. I knew I dared not fight him off, but also knew I had to end this somehow or I’d lose my mind. Presently, with one hand I slipped under his hand topside, and with the other under his hand below: “Please,” I whispered. “I’m human too, and there’s a limit to what I can take.”
He eased off, and from the bureau I got out my nightie, a black one with lace yoke, and put it on. When I looked at him he was panting, with sweat standing out on his forehead, not a pretty sight. I said: “Now, if the doctor was right about you, if he knew what he was talking about, it’s time you went to your room. It’s time you went to bed.”
“But Joan, tell me: You wanted me didn’t you? You want me now- say it just once, so I know.”
“I will not say it.”
I made it sound very strict, schoolteacherish and cross. “If I ever said how I feel, God only knows what you’d do. You’re a wonderful man, Earl K. White, but I don’t trust you, even a little bit. And waking up here in London with a distinguished corpse in my arms, as you once put it, is not my idea of a honeymoon.”
It was not, on the whole, unflattering, and in a moment he said: “O.K.” And then, “O.K., O.K., O.K.”
“You can kiss me now, goodnight. But just a kiss.”
He kissed me, very quick, very dry, very proper.
“Now-” I said, stern.
He left me alone, stumbling out, almost in a state of collapse.
I got into bed, and could turn out the light at last. As I lay there, staring out at the London night, I knew I’d got myself into something.