A moment later Prithvi came in. She was wearing a shimmering pink sari, and waited on them with her usual demure shyness, keeping her eyes lowered and silently disappearing without any indication that she found it strange seeing Lily dining with the master.
‘Can I treat you to a glass of wine?’ Dr McBride asked. ‘There’s fresh
limbopani
as well, but I thought you might enjoy a drop of good French wine from the Rhone.’
‘Oh no, thank you!’ She felt rather swimmy already, from the sherry. ‘I’d like lemonade, please.’
‘As you please, my dear.’
They began to eat, and Dr McBride talked. Lily was glad that he did not expect much from her in the way of conversation. She took a mouthful of Stephen’s curry and rice and found it to be very good, so she sat and enjoyed her meal while the doctor told her about his childhood in Edinburgh and how he had come to meet Muriel.
‘It was a student prank, you see. Arthur’s Seat in the dark – all that kind of foolishness.’ Seeing her puzzled expression he explained that Arthur’s Seat was an old volcano. ‘It’s in Holyrood Park, in Edinburgh, my dear. Anyway, of course I broke my ankle and when they took me to the infirmary, I met Muriel. I’d never seen her before even though I was training in the same hospital, so it all felt rather destined. Oh, she was lovely! You should have seen her – all that pale red hair, freckles and so much life in her face. Lord God . . .’ He shook his head and she could see his emotions surfacing. ‘How could I ever have imagined how she’d come to be . . . Impossible. It’s a torment watching her . . .’ He looked across at her, his expression pitiable, and she was touched. But she could also see that he wanted something from her and she was disturbed and flattered all at once.
‘What is the matter with Mrs McBride, exactly?’ she dared to ask.
‘Nothing. And everything.’ He sighed and sat back, holding his wine glass and unbuttoning his tweed jacket. He spoke with the creaking slowness of someone unaccustomed to talking about his personal life.
‘Muriel and I couldn’t have children. I know where the problem lies. Being a medical man and so on, I looked into it more thoroughly than most. There is nothing wrong with Muriel, as I’ve told her a thousand times. It’s me. I’m infertile.’ These last words came out awkwardly, as a confession of pain. ‘Sometimes that’s the way. So together we can’t conceive. Of course, with another man she could bear a child, but Muriel is a most honourable woman and she loved me, loves me still, I do believe. But from then on, gradually, everything went wrong. We were only in our twenties when we married. Of course, the attempts at childbearing went on for a time, but then she started to eat less. It took time and no one noticed at first, until the weight began to fall off her. She spent her thirties eating like a bird. She was thin as a stick and her looks left her, I must say. She used to have a bloom to her and it just made her fade. Terrible to watch.’ He took another sip of wine. Lily watched his face. She could feel herself being drawn in by him.
‘I’ve never talked to anyone about it before,’ he said. ‘Or not in more than cold medical terms. It’s something about you, Lily . . . I seem to be able to say things . . .’ He gazed emotionally at her for a moment, then looked away.
‘Muriel’s condition is a sickness of the mind which makes people starve themselves of food, and it’s very hard to understand. It’s so life-denying, yet Muriel has always said she does not want to die. A year ago things became very bad and we reached the point you see us at now. I suggested we go home to Edinburgh, but Muriel begged me to let her stay here. She is afraid that they might force-feed her and she says if they did that she would hang herself. I’ve asked myself day and night for months whether there is anywhere else I could take her that would help. She’s had help from the psychiatric doctor here – the physicians of the mind, Lily – but nothing seems to give her back the key to life and instead we have to exist in this living death, day after day . . .’
For a moment she thought he was going to weep, but he checked himself and wiped his hand emotionally over his eyes.
‘For years now I’ve just closed in on myself. I love the woman – but she doesn’t seem to love me, or herself, enough to nourish herself into life. Part of me has been dying with her. And then you come along, Lily, so alive and so beautiful, with your wonderful, living body and your face . . . God, the sight of your face. You’ve given me such joy, did you know? Just the sight of you each day has given me back my life again!’
‘Has it?’ Lily said. She felt more in command of herself now, and smiled at him. Perhaps that was all he wanted, she hoped, just to see her, if it made him feel better. ‘If so, then I’m glad.’
‘Glad isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel, Lily.’
She jumped as he got to his feet and came round the table. He was becoming more and more passionate and he took her hand and held it to his lips.
‘I adore you. I want to make you mine. I’m not just the crusty old doctor you’ve seen. There’s far more to me than that, but it’s been shut away more as every year goes by. I’d give anything for you, to be with you even a little of the time . . .’
Goodness, what was he asking her? Lily thought, panic-stricken. Was this respectable man asking her to become his mistress? Did he think she was some woman of easy virtue who would just do anything he asked? She was in turmoil, half wanting to pull her hand away, but not feeling she could because of the look of longing in his eyes, and the longing inside her which answered it.
‘Lily—’ He spoke urgently, words pouring from him. ‘I know what I am saying to you is very shocking. But I’ll lay my cards on the table. I am a quite wealthy man with a dying wife and no offspring to spend my money on. I have entombed myself in my house and my medical practice . . . I don’t want to live like this any more. I’m asking you to help me find life again. I can give you so much, my dear . . . I worship you, I can make a queen of you . . . You would not lose respect, or not for long. I am very highly thought of in this town, and I am also much pitied. I have had many offers from women who feel sorry for me, but no one has ever been like you.’ He paused for a moment, staring at her. ‘Tell me what you want of me, darling one – you only have to ask.’
Something inside her responded to this. She was alone in the world, with no hope of a real love or marriage, and he was offering an arrangement which she could see might be to her advantage. For the first time in her life Lily felt a real sense of strength. A voice in her answered, Why not? You have nothing to lose and a lot to gain. And amid all her calculations there was a simple longing to be loved and held and desired.
‘There’s one thing . . .’ He sounded bashful now, looking down at his plate. ‘I’m being very forward but I did say I wanted to lay my cards on the table. What I said about my inability to father a child – I know for certain that that is the case. I’ve performed certain tests . . . So if you were to agree to . . . to offer me love in every way possible there would be no issue. You need not trouble yourself about that.’
Lily had never heard anyone speak so directly, and felt a blush spread all over her body. She looked down, hoping that in the dim light he would not see.
‘I feel a little overcome,’ she said carefully. ‘I wasn’t expecting this. You are very kind.’
The doctor drew Lily to her feet and she obeyed. ‘Please say yes, Lily. I don’t think I could bear it if you turned me down.’
She made her decision in that split second. A yes to something she barely understood. Standing up, in the candlelight she allowed him to pull her close to him. He seemed so very large as he drew her against him and she was a little afraid, but she quelled her fears. She wanted things from life that she could barely name and this seemed to be a way she could get them.
‘Oh, my dearest love,’ he said breathlessly, and pulled her to him. A moment later she was wrapped in Ewan McBride’s arms, his lips hot and ardent on hers.
For a short time Lily thought Dr McBride was going to be satisfied with her company on the afternoon walks and an evening meal with a few kisses at the end of the evening. But as the days went by, he became more and more ardent until one evening, as Lily pulled away from him to leave his candlelit study, he said hurriedly, ‘Let me come to you – tonight!’
Lily turned, hand on the door handle. ‘What do you mean?’
Dr McBride was at her side again, taking her other hand. ‘Let me lie with you, Lily, my darling! I’m burning for you – you can see.’ A sweat had broken out on his forehead. ‘I want to lie beside you and make you mine, my darling girl.’
‘I’ve never been that kind of person,’ Lily said. ‘I don’t . . . know men.’ She was trembling and for a moment she could not look at him, then she raised her eyes to see him watching her with a tender expression.
‘I can see that.’ He reached for her other hand and held both of hers in his, turning her to face him. She saw his face tighten with desire.
‘Of course you’re not, my dear. And I don’t want you to think I’m treating you in a beastly way, that I have no care for you. God, Lily, I’d do anything for you. I shan’t deflower you and discard you. I love you. I want to be with you and look after you.’ He stared into her eyes. ‘Go to your room, darling, and I’ll come to you. My own is too close to Muriel. She mustn’t hear anything.’
As if in a dream, she found herself obeying. Alone in her room, she lit two candles and sat on the edge of the bed. She could not seem to think properly. Nothing seemed quite real. Should she get undressed, or wait as she was?
There came a discreet knock and the doctor came inside without a word and softly closed the door. He came to her immediately, his breathing fast and heavy and took her in his arms.
‘At last. Oh, at last, my dear little girl!’
Lily pressed against his large body, smelling him, sweat and tobacco and old wool, and felt his hands moving over her with increasing intimacy.
‘Let’s take some of these clothes off, my dear.’
He undressed her and she let him, passive as a doll, until she was standing naked and he was still fully clothed and she felt vulnerable and embarrassed. He knelt, suddenly, as if before an altar and said, ‘Oh, my dear, you’re so lovely.’ Hungrily, he kissed her breasts, and Lily felt sensations pulse through her nipples as his tongue played over them. She felt confused. How could she feel pleasure in this when she had no love for this man?
‘Lie on the bed – I must have you,’ he ordered, and stood to undress himself, with great impatience, until she was confronted for the first time in her life by the sight of a naked man, fully aroused and kneeling over her. She found the sight of his body disturbing, the shadows round his belly and groin, his thick penis standing up, and she made a small sound of distress.
‘Don’t worry, my dear – I shall be gentle with you. I’m not a monster. And remember, Lily, there will be no issue. There’s no need to be afraid.’
But she could see that he was very aroused and he reached down so that she felt his fingers moving in the intimate parts between her legs and it was sore and made her gasp. He eased his fingers inside her and she lifted her body, moaning more from pain than pleasure, which excited him all the more.
‘Oh, dear God, open up for me, Lily . . .’ He moved urgently on top of her, pushing her legs apart and forcing his way into her so that she yelped at the burning pain it caused. The pain ebbed away but he felt so hard and strange moving in her, acutely excited by her. His bulk blocked out most of the light so that he was like a great shadow engulfing her and she was trapped under the weight of him as he groaned and thrust into her. It was soon over and he rolled to the side and took her passionately in his arms and to her surprise she found herself grateful for it. It was something new, to be held like that, as if she was loved and precious. Her chest began to ache, but she pushed any feelings away. It was no good thinking she could have any emotion about this. Look what had happened with Sam. She had been hurt almost beyond enduring and it was not going to happen again.
‘Thank you,’ Ewan McBride breathed into her hair. ‘Thank you, my dearest love. Oh, you’re mine now. My very own. You and I will have some times together, Lily, my love. Oh, we shall!’
Lily closed her eyes. She felt sore and stretched down below and all she could think, at that moment was,
I’ve survived it, then. It wasn’t so bad.
From then on, Dr McBride treated Lily as his lover. She dined with him every evening and he came to her room afterwards, almost nightly as well. He liked her to come to the study for dinner at exactly the same time every night and he was always waiting. One evening she was held up and a few minutes late and when she reached the doctor’s study room he was standing just inside.
‘Where have you been?’ he demanded, and he seemed really worked up.
‘Nowhere,’ she said, puzzled. ‘I just had to show Prithvi how to do something, that’s all.
‘Don’t be late for me.’ It was a mixture of plea and stern command. ‘I don’t like it. I can’t stand it.’
So long as she did as he wanted, Lily saw this shy, unhappy man blossom in front of her eyes. This gave her a certain amount of satisfaction, that she could have such an effect on someone. And the doctor had quickly grown besotted with her, promising her all the things he would buy for her and places they would visit. He made her feel special, and adored, and Lily drank it in hungrily. Suddenly she felt powerful and excited. Sometimes she woke, alone in her bed, and wondered if she had dreamed the entire thing. How had this come about? And she did not know if it was a secret in the house. No one said anything, even Jane Brown, though they took tea together regularly and talked. Jane would be embarrassed to raise such a subject, of course, but Lily realized, too, that other than Prithvi, no one saw her very much with the doctor. Even so, she felt self-conscious.