They were Janet and John but this was no children's story. She cried out with pleasure as he took her nipple into his mouth. They were hungry but the take-away was uneaten. They were hungry for each other and each tasted the feast of the other's body. As John entered her and they began to move as one, each knew that this was as it should be. They were one and should be one and would be one. They had each had other lovers, not many it was true but they knew that this was something different. They couldn't have convinced any of their cynical friends if they had tried but they did not care.
As they lay side by side and gazed at the ceiling, John said, “Isn't this the time we should be enjoying a post-coital cigarette?”
“Neither of us smoke, idiot, but you can pour me a glass of that plonk you brought with the Chinese and no bad language in my flat, thank you.”
“It's not plonk, it's rather a good Merlot actually. Anyway, who's using bad language?” said John as he slid out of bed and wandered naked into the next room. He returned with two glasses and the bottle in one hand and a bag of prawn crackers in the other. Janet watched him move to the bed and thought what a rather nice body he had. He was tall and slim with wavy hair and a crooked smile, not too much body hair; she couldn't abide hairy men. No, altogether, she was very pleased with what she saw.
“I don't like to think of making love as coitus, it sounds so clinical,” Janet said, pouting, “and you're not bringing those prawn crackers into my bed, John Appleby.”
“Pardon me, my lady, I didn't realise we were an old married couple.” He put the bag on the floor and poured the wine, then handed it to her with an elegant bow which, considering that he was naked, looked a little comical. As he climbed into bed she kissed him.
“I do hope that we shall be that eventually John, I don't ever want to think of what life would be without you.” She looked so serious that he had to laugh.
“Is that a proposal, Miss Johnson? I didn't realise this was a leap year or is it that you joined the feminist movement while I was at Higson's boring lecture yesterday?”
“It is and it isn't,” she said and it was his turn to look serious as he pondered this answer. “If I wait for you to propose I'll probably die an old maid so it is a proposal for consideration but it isn't actually a leap year so I suppose it doesn't count.”
“Well,” he said cupping her breast with his hand and bending to kiss it, “I can't condemn such a beautiful lady to eternal spinsterhood so I suppose I must make an honest woman of you. My family are not noted for their extra-marital affairs so we'd better do the right thing.” And the right thing at that moment they found very nice indeed.
“Now if everyone has a glass in their hand I would like to propose a toast,” Peter Appleby looked rather pompous in a three-piece navy suit with the waistcoat strained almost to bursting. His red face was wreathed in smiles and John thought he looked the very image of old Fezziwig at the Christmas party. “To my father, a very happy seventieth birthday.” The sentiment was repeated around the room, each one altering the ‘my father’ part to one more suitable to their relationship with John Appleby Senior.
The elder John stood looking rather grumpy with his wife, Angela, by his side. He rather detested large family gatherings and here he was with his sister Jessica and an assortment of children, grandchildren and enough in-laws to make a man wish he were somewhere else and he did heartily wish he were anywhere but here with his stupid son pontificating and generally being a bumptious host, bossing the family as usual.
Peter's wife, Anne, stood quietly by her husband and tried to forestall him launching into a speech. She knew that, given his head, he would harangue the family for half an hour. It was, after all, not his party. She knew that her father-in-law hated such gatherings and would rather be at the golf club with a few friends for a quiet drink. Her sister-in-law, Josephine, had started on the buffet and, if left to herself, would clear it on her own. Her other sister-in-law, Christine, was smiling benignly next to her husband Donald Mackay, and their son Alec, resplendent in kilt and sporran which she thought was a bit rich since the nearest they had ever been to Scotland was Carlisle and they all spoke with strong Black country accents. She looked at her son, the younger John. He looked happier than she had ever seen him. By his side was a lovely young lady who looked a little ill at ease. Anne thought of the first time she had been brought to meet the Applebys and knew just how Janet must be feeling. She smiled at the girl and the smile was warmly returned. Well, thought Anne, they make a lovely couple.
John stepped forward, “Excuse me Dad, if you've finished toasting Grandad I'd like to say a few words, if that's alright?” His father blustered but Anne shushed him and smiled encouragingly at her son. “For those who haven't been introduced, this is Janet, Janet Johnson.” He took her hand and smiled at her. “I hope I'm not stealing all the thunder from Granddad's party if I just say that Janet and I are engaged to be married, and I hope you'll all make the future Mrs John Appleby welcome.”
For a moment, there was silence while the family digested this news and in that silence the voice of John's grandfather interjected, “Another Johnson. Hope she’s not like the last one.”
Anne stepped forward and kissed Janet, giving her an encouraging hug and hoping that it also gave Angela time to stop the elder John from spoiling the party. Most of the family seemed to have missed the comment and everyone crowded round with congratulations.
When all had enjoyed the buffet and a few drinks they settled down into groups to catch up with news or reminisce on times past. John took his fiancée to speak with his grandfather.
“What did you mean earlier, Granddad, when you said another Johnson? I don't know any Johnsons connected with our family.”
“Forget what I said, son,” said his grandfather, “I shouldn't have spoken.
“But you did speak, Granddad and you didn't sound too happy when you said it. You can't leave it there.” John's grandfather glanced across at his own son, sitting with his sisters, dominating the conversation as usual. Angela and Anne were in the kitchen doing some clearing up.
“We had another Johnson in the family once,” he spoke quietly, “You didn't know that your father was married before, did you? Mary, her name was. She ran away to America with another man, took your father's baby with her. Your father won't have her mentioned. He married your mother soon enough afterwards and we were all told to forget her, and we did, her and her baby, Janet, I think the name was. Janet looked at John and their faces grew pale. “I lived in Boston until I was four.”
“Nice county, Lincolnshire." Grandfather said.
“No, Boston Massachusetts, and my mother's name was Mary. She once told me she had run away from a mistake, she had been married but it was a mistake. We lived with James Gigson, he was my father.”
John's Grandfather looked at the pair of them and his voice echoed around the room. “No, he bloody wasn't. Good God lad, she's your sister!”
Janet had left in great distress. John had followed but she would neither speak to him nor allow him to touch her. She took a taxi back to her flat. When he arrived an hour or so later, having given her what he thought was time to calm down, he was met at the door by Sophie, who had a flat on the same floor. Janet would not see him. Sophie knew nothing of what had happened but was in no mood to argue and John himself stared, unseeing, at the paint chipped door.
He returned the following day and his knocking went unanswered. It only brought Sophie to her door.
“She's gone,” Sophie said. Her face showed that she knew the full story. It showed pity, but was there just a hint of distaste?
“Gone? Where?”
“I don't know, to a friend of her mother's. It's over, John can't you see that? She knows it and she can't stay here, not when people find out."
“Find out what?” John spat out the words.
“Oh, come on, John, you know.”
“Incest!”
“Well, yes," Sophie took a step backwards into her flat. She could not meet his eyes, he looked about to explode and she stood poised for flight. He took a deep breath.
“I'm sorry, Sophie, that was rude. This mess isn't your fault, but it isn't really ours either, we didn't know, how could we know?" His shoulders slumped and the anger seeped out of him. She took him into her flat and made coffee.
“It breaks my heart John, you were such a lovely couple.” They talked for a while but he left no nearer a solution.
“You do see it can't go on now that you know you are Janet's brother. There is no chance of continuing the relationship. The world sees it as immoral and unlawful. The church has the ‘Table of Affinity’ to show who may and may not marry. It doesn't matter if you don't believe in God because the law is against it too. I know the draft criminal code has recommended,” He took her hand and silenced her.
“Dear Sophie, ever the law student. I do know, we share some lectures, remember and I've been through the books too.”“It breaks my heart John, you were such a lovely couple.” They talked for a while but he left no nearer a solution.
He drank much coffee over the next few days and had many intimate conversations with members of the family, mostly female. His grandfather, after his initial outburst, had tried to be supportive of his young namesake.
“Damn shame son, seemed like a nice lass, but there's no help for it,” was all he could offer. His father was rather distant as if he were unwilling to be involved in something distasteful. He talked with his mother for hours. She wanted to offer help and support but seemed troubled by something and it was a long time before she was able to Put things into words.
The following day a letter arrived. It was from Janet; she was returning to her flat and wanted to see him. She would meet him on ‘neutral ground’ in Sophie's flat. In spite of the problem, his heart flew at the prospect of seeing her again and he could scarcely contain himself until he arrived at the appointed time.
She was pale and had clearly lost weight. Her slim form was now waiflike. He wanted to take her into his arms but she would allow no physical contact and he was caught up in her calmness.
“We need to talk seriously,” she said. He sat opposite her, an attentive schoolboy. “I have had some time to think about us and this little problem. No, John, let me get it all out. I've been stewing over this for days and the only way I can get through it is if you sit quietly and let me find my way of saying it.” John remained silent but his eyes never left her face. “First of all, I love you and I know you love me but that isn't enough in the face of what confronts us. I needed to go and find the truth, the truth about me. I thought I knew who I was and then suddenly I didn't know at all. I was, all at once, a different person and the man I loved was a different person too.” John wanted to speak, to grab her, to show her he knew who she was and what she meant to him, but he remained silent.
“I went to stay with one of my mother's friends. When Mum died I left a lot of her papers in this friend's garage. I had meant to sort them out before; now seemed a good time to do it. I found the marriage certificate. Why she kept it I don't know but there it was, Mary Johnson married Peter Appleby, it was all there. I nearly despaired then. I did something that I swore I would never do but desperation made me break my word. I read my mother's diaries. I think I would die if anyone read mine and it felt like a personal assault to read mother's intimate thoughts but what could I do?”
“It was a mistake. She always said that marrying your father was a mistake and she regretted it soon after. It seems that your father and James Gigson were rivals for her hand and your father won.”
“Of course, he would never accept losing.”
“Well he did lose in the end, she ran off with James. It took her some time to screw herself to the sticking place. She had gone to James as soon as she realised she had chosen wrongly. He tried to get her to leave at once but she wouldn't - she could be very stubborn. How would they say it? He ‘comforted her’ and I was the result. It took her that long for her to make the break and they ran when I was a babe in arms."
“Then you're not my sister?
“No.”
“May I have a word now?” He smiled at her and longed to take her in his arms but he sensed that the time was not right. “I have nearly drowned in a sea of coffee and been the recipient of mountains of good advice, hopeless, though well-intentioned. Do you remember me saying that my family were not noted for their extra-marital affairs? It seems that that was not true. It took hours for it to come out but Mum nearly left Dad too. Poor Dad, the women he attracted seemed to find him unsatisfactory after a very short time. Do you remember meeting Uncle Ray at that damned party? I'd not be surprised if you didn't, he's not a forceful man but he's always been my favourite ‘synthetic’ uncle for he's not related. Well, it turns out that there's nothing ‘synthetic’ about Ray. He had an affair with my mother not long after she and Peter married. She wouldn't leave Peter, she's a strong lady too, bless her. It tore her apart to tell me that Ray is my real father. Poor Peter, two wives and two children but father of neither. Well, now what do we do?”
“I'm going away, John. I rang James. I've been offered a post in Boston for a year. I’ve accepted it.”
“And what about us?”
“We're not the same people we were, John. Things have changed.”
“My love hasn't changed, it never will.”
“I know, but we need time. We need to let the dust settle and to see where we stand when it has.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“I understand. My whole being screams against it, but I do understand. I've grown up a lot in a very short time. I see that you need to go to Boston and I need to get my degree. I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't get a rather good one, what with nothing to distract me. In a year or so I shall be a young solicitor looking for a wife, preferably one of experience and maturity, you know, well-travelled.”
He drew her quietly into his arms and for a long time they clung to each other as if their lives depended on it.