The Guest Who Stayed

Chapter 13 - August 1921

Alice expected that Jack would return later in the day, once he had taken time to cool off. She had consciously taken a little more care over what she was wearing, having discarded the housecoat that she usually put on for tasks around the home in favour of a loose fitting summer dress with a high hem line. But having changed out of her work clothes, she found it difficult to attend to her usual chores so resorted reluctantly to darning whilst nervously awaiting Jack’s return.

 Jack headed back to the Fox and Hounds. It was the only place he knew in Frampton other than Hope Cottage. He avoided the snug that he and Flora had occupied earlier and chose instead to sit at the far end of the bar in a dark alcove, clearly indicating to anyone who wanted to engage him in idle talk that he wished to be left alone.

 Jack had considered following Flora back home but then he realised that would cause her further distress if there was a confrontation in front of her parents. He downed his ale and tried to focus his thoughts. He knew he had lost control of himself and raped Flora. There was no other word for it. He felt sickened. His hands were shaking as he emptied his glass and signalled to the bar man to bring another. As the drink took effect, images that he had tried to obliterate flooded back into his mind - the lash of a whip biting into his bare skin; the thud of a fist penetrating deep into his stomach; the sound of his own voice emitting a high pitched squeal.

 “Wake up, sir, are you alright,? Having some sort of turn, are we?” It was the publican who was shaking him by the arm.

 Coming out of his trance, Jack tried to regain his composure. “I’m sorry, George, bad dream that’s all. Must be your piss awful ale.”

 They knew each other well enough.

 “Never mind my ale, mate. It’s your mind I’m worried about.”

 Jed packed his tools deeply troubled by what had taken place. Should he tell someone or remain silent? If he confronted Jack or told the police, his whole business venture could collapse. If he told Flora what he had seen it would make him out to be a coward or a voyeur. Then should he confide in Alice? In one respect it would be good to do so because it would show her what a bastard Jack was but, on the other hand, it would make his behaviour seem shameful.

 As the truck pulled up outside Hope Cottage, he had resolved to keep quiet. There was little advantage in spreading gossip and plenty to lose. He was sure he hadn’t been seen and therefore as long as he kept quiet, life should go on as before.

 When he entered Hope Cottage, he was surprised to see Alice in a summer dress rather than her usual work clothes. He thought how pretty she looked but said instead,

 “You got a date then, all dressed up like that?” It wasn’t what he had had wanted to say but, as usual, it came out wrong.

 “Some chance of a date when I’m married to you. More chance of the moon being made of cheese.”

 Jack weaved his way back from the Fox and Hounds having drunk five pints of ale. He wasn’t thinking clearly and was struggling to order his thoughts. If Flora told Alice that he’d forced himself on her then everything would be finished. Perhaps if he told Alice first and tried to explain why it happened, she might listen to him and give him another chance. Whatever happened he wouldn’t renege on his promise to fund the business and support Jed. What had passed was his fault and if he had to return to London and support Jed from a distance, then that was a price he would have to pay.

 But what if Flora didn’t say anything to Alice? Only he and Flora knew what had happened and Flora wouldn’t want word to get around. It was more likely that she’d remain quiet. But could he live with that?