The People of Dewbrook

Chapter Thirteen

Bless his soul, Stephen really did try not to stray from the light of God any longer. However, it was far more of a challenge than he thought it would be. Mundane life with his wife and children felt as grey as the skies on a rainy day quite often. He conversed casually with his respectable neighbours; participated in the tea parties his wife held, having to endure her and her friends' love of gossip; played with his children whenever they asked that of him, which was a common occurrence, and, aside from that, he never really had much to do. He wished that he were a more engaged and naturally curious person, but alas, personality is a hard thing to change consciously, which he knew very well.

Another thing that he knew very well was that his personality was changing subconsciously in a manner which was not overly apparent, but which was not unimportant either, and it appalled him. For years, he had seen the bodies of women as a gift from above, but he could never have counted that they would have affected him that much. He was slowly but surely starting to value them more than things that held actual meaning. In his deprivation of the pleasures that they brought, he yearned from them incessantly, remembering the passion of the touch of the other sex. 

He remembered it all multiple times during the day, usually after lunch, when he would fill himself up with food and get into a drowsy state, sleeping on the divan for an hour or two with a serene smile on his face, and also when he went to bed, also having that same serene smile on his face. Mildred had no idea what it meant, but she quickly concluded that he was merely happy and that there was no other meaning to it. 

During those moments, sensual images would appear before his eyes, seeming more real than reality to him. He would see Caroline's sea-blue eyes and their lively gleam; her thick red lips that laid hot kisses onto his neck; her own neck, which was tall and pale and pure, begging him to taint that purity; her womanly bosom that he stared at with wide eyes as he kissed it with all the force inside him, and her low, seductive voice that on its own brought the feeling of intercourse to his body through the warm breaths near his ear and neck. It was the peak of corruption, but he accepted that corruption with open arms.

In an attempt to alleviate that feeling, he turned towards art of a more wanton nature. He bought paintings that depicted beautiful naked women lying on divans or beds, sometimes alone and sometimes in groups, as well as libertine novels. Unfortunately, although it held no harm, it also held no real satisfaction in the long run, being a mere paling imitation of the pleasures of the flesh. Even life was a paling imitation of itself without Caroline in it. 

On the last day of February, he could not handle it any longer. Having woken up with a licentious mind, he hastily did everything that he usually did in the mornings, rushing to the courtyard to clear his head and decide what to do next. It certainly helped a little, for the winds of cold were strong that day, putting a stop to his drowsiness and his more irrational thoughts. Still, he had a decision to make, which brought great sorrow to his heart, that feeling vanishing the moment he noticed that his wife and children were leaving the courtyard with an obvious intention to visit the park.

"Hello, my dear," Mildred chirped once she had reached the gate. "It is already apparent to you where we are headed, so there is no need for me to explain anything. We will stay there for the whole day, and I hope that is fine with you. Our children begged me to take them there, which you must surely understand. Farewell until sunset. I wish you a pleasant day."

"I wish you a pleasant day as well," he chirped back, rejoicing the moment the gate creaked behind them.

For a couple of minutes, he stood in place like a statue and waited for their shadows to leave the horizon. After all, he had to be sure that none of them would turn back. When not a footstep could be heard in his vicinity, he began to walk slowly in the direction of the Wells manor, knowing that Caroline would have no reason to return to her old house now that they had ceased conversing over the fence. Fear crawled down his spine like a venomous snake as he planned the explanation he would provide for his visit, but it turned out to have been in vain when, by nothing other than pure happenstance, he bumped into her.