Chapter Thirteen: ‘Sweet Surrender’
Mary found her job at the munitions factory hard yet endurable. The women there were always game for a laugh and would forever be larking about, trying to get each other into trouble with the male supervisors. There were three supervisors at the factory where Mary worked and all were male. The workforce was largely female, but the way that the supervisors spoke to them was often far removed from how one might expect any woman to be addressed by a man.
When the male workers left the factory to become soldiers, their wives became the new workforce in their absence. The foremen however, treated them no differently in either approach or language. Little care was rarely taken in their use of foul language, which was often less refined than that of an army drill sergeant on parade with a bunch of new recruits. On many occasions, when the women were expected to wheelbarrow some stuff from one section to another, one foreman would always overfill their barrow, in the hope that they had insufficient strength to move it when full and need to ask for help.
Two of the three supervisors at Mary’s place of work used coarse language as their prime means of enforcing compliance with the largely female work force, and the female staff were simply expected to take it without complaint or backchat. It was common practice for the factory women to hear some supervisor verbally abusing another female employer as though she was some prisoner of war or new private on parade.
“Get a fucking move on, woman! You’re not in the bedroom now making up your face as though you’ve all day to spare. We’re fighting a bloody war and unless you pull out the stops and learn to do your bit, you’ll hand victory to the Huns. Now get a move on and stop that chattering. It’s like listening to a fucking cattle market hearing you lot jabber. Get a move on!”
“I’ll get a move on when that dozy git gets a hard on and starts waving it about over here so we can all do a bit of battering!” said Annie Bolton to her friend, Bessie Braddock.
“It’s no good him waving it about in your direction, dear,” Bessie replied laughingly, “you wouldn’t know what to do with it, if was staring you in the face!”
“It’s not my face I’d be wanting it in!” replied Annie laughingly.
“Get a fucking move on, woman! You’re not in the bedroom now making up your face as though you’ve all day to spare. We’re fighting a bloody war and unless you pull out the stops and learn to do your bit, you’ll hand victory to the Huns. Now get a move on and stop that chattering. It’s like listening to a fucking cattle market hearing you lot jabber. Get a move on!”
“I’ll get a move on when that dozy git gets a hard on and starts waving it about over here so we can all do a bit of battering!” said Annie Bolton to her friend, Bessie Braddock.
“It’s no good him waving it about in your direction, dear,” Bessie replied laughingly, “you wouldn’t know what to do with it, if was staring you in the face!”
“It’s not my face I’d be wanting it in!” replied Annie laughingly.
While Mary’s ears had long heard the swear word ‘faking’ being spoken by man, woman, child and occasionally priest alike back in Ireland, and had accepted that word as being a natural part of Irish vocabulary, ‘Fucking’ seemed so crude and coarse a term in comparison. To hear it spoken both to women and by women was something that still had the power to make Mary's body cringe and attack her sensibilities.
Mary did her work in the munitions factory to the best of her abilities and mixed readily with the rest of the workforce. There were, however, a couple of women who worked the lathes, and they deeply resented Irish feet on English soil and would refuse to talk to her directly. If they needed to say something to Mary, they would speak to the woman who worked alongside her, as though Mary was invisible instead of standing there. “Ask your friend when she’s going back home to where she belongs? Irish tinkers aren’t welcome in these parts!” would be a common jibe directed towards the latest Irish immigrant.
Mary later learned that many Englanders refused to forget or forgive the Irish rebel for turning their guns against them during the Easter Uprising of 1916, when the British were already engaged in a continental war, fighting overseas against the Germans.
Mary did her work in the munitions factory to the best of her abilities and mixed readily with the rest of the workforce. There were, however, a couple of women who worked the lathes, and they deeply resented Irish feet on English soil and would refuse to talk to her directly. If they needed to say something to Mary, they would speak to the woman who worked alongside her, as though Mary was invisible instead of standing there. “Ask your friend when she’s going back home to where she belongs? Irish tinkers aren’t welcome in these parts!” would be a common jibe directed towards the latest Irish immigrant.
Mary later learned that many Englanders refused to forget or forgive the Irish rebel for turning their guns against them during the Easter Uprising of 1916, when the British were already engaged in a continental war, fighting overseas against the Germans.
There was one young supervisor at the factory called Mark Stein who was obviously interested in Mary and would go out of his way with any excuse to talk to her whenever he could. Though nice enough in his own way, Mary was not interested in adding any further complications to her life right now, and to tell the truth, even had she been so inclined to either want or need a man, getting herself tied up with another work’s supervisor could not have been farther from mind. There would be no more Sean Morrises in her life if she could help it!
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Three months later, and after hearing no word from her husband Patrick since his first and only leave, one Friday afternoon, Doris received an official telegram from the Home Office. The telegram informed her that her husband had been killed in action serving his country, along with two hundred and forty-three other men from his regiment in the height of battle.
Because of the heavy bombardment at the time of their deaths, not all the men could be positively identified; so the army had to be guided by the dog tags they later found upon the deceased soldiers and their scattered body parts. Doris learned that the dead soldiers were to be buried in a mass grave somewhere in the fields of Flanders, between the geographical regions of France and Belgium.
Because of the heavy bombardment at the time of their deaths, not all the men could be positively identified; so the army had to be guided by the dog tags they later found upon the deceased soldiers and their scattered body parts. Doris learned that the dead soldiers were to be buried in a mass grave somewhere in the fields of Flanders, between the geographical regions of France and Belgium.
Before Doris had received the telegram that day, she had applied some new red lipstick, to freshen herself up for Mary's return from work. When Mary came home later, she discovered a tearful Doris staring with fixed eyes at a photograph of her husband, Patrick, that she clasped tightly in one hand. She had obviously spent most of the afternoon crying alone in her big house. Had it not been for her supervising the children, she told Mary that she did not know what she would have done.
Mary consoled Doris the best way she knew how, with a loving embrace and words of reassurance. Doris, on the other hand, just cried intermittently and kept accusing herself for not having been a good enough wife to Patrick when he was alive.
“Now, now, Doris,” Mary said, ”I’m sure there could have been no better wife he could have had.”
“If only that were true, Mary, it would be some consolation in this sad hour, but alas, I’m afraid it isn’t and I wasn’t! I’m afraid that I wasn’t then, and the cruelty of it all is that I wouldn’t have met his expectations tomorrow either, had he returned safely to me from the war.”
“Now, now, Doris,” Mary said, ”I’m sure there could have been no better wife he could have had.”
“If only that were true, Mary, it would be some consolation in this sad hour, but alas, I’m afraid it isn’t and I wasn’t! I’m afraid that I wasn’t then, and the cruelty of it all is that I wouldn’t have met his expectations tomorrow either, had he returned safely to me from the war.”
Later that night after Mary had put the children to bed and retired to her own bed, she was about to drop off to sleep when she heard a knock on her bedroom door and heard Doris quietly speak her name.
“Mary, it’s Doris” the voice said from the other side of the door.
Mary opened the door and seeing her distressed friend standing there in her nightdress visibly shaking, Doris said, “Can I…. can I come in with you tonight, Mary. I just can’t sleep on my own tonight!”
“Of course you can,” Mary said as she ushered her friend into her bed.
Mary got into bed and two minutes later and the couple embraced each other to keep warm and comfortable. Throughout the night, the couple cuddled and Doris cried intermittently.
“Mary, it’s Doris” the voice said from the other side of the door.
Mary opened the door and seeing her distressed friend standing there in her nightdress visibly shaking, Doris said, “Can I…. can I come in with you tonight, Mary. I just can’t sleep on my own tonight!”
“Of course you can,” Mary said as she ushered her friend into her bed.
Mary got into bed and two minutes later and the couple embraced each other to keep warm and comfortable. Throughout the night, the couple cuddled and Doris cried intermittently.
Mary awoke the following morning to find herself alone in bed. Doris had risen before her and had started to make breakfast for little Nellie and Nora. With it being Saturday morning, though Mary had to work half a day until noon, she would then be free until Monday morning after she had returned home mid-day.
Seeing her children’s cots empty, Mary sensed that Doris had obviously had got them up, washed and dressed them, and had taken them downstairs to her living quarters. By the time Mary had dressed and joined them downstairs, Doris had fed both children. The table was neatly set for two, ready for both women to eat.
Mary sat down and after the usual morning pleasantries, Doris joined her. Doris said, “I’ve cooked us both scrambled eggs and there’s some warm toast and jam as well.”
Mary coyly smiled at Doris and thanked her for her consideration.
“Think nothing of it, Mary,” she replied. ”You were there for me last night when I needed you and the least I can do is to be there for you this morning and make sure you get a well-earned lie in for an extra half hour before you get yourself off to work.”
Nothing more was spoken between the two women that morning before Mary set off to work in the munitions factory, but both women knew that not all was quite as it should be between them. There were things that needed to be spoken of openly between them, subtle things that needed clarifying.
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Mary sat down and after the usual morning pleasantries, Doris joined her. Doris said, “I’ve cooked us both scrambled eggs and there’s some warm toast and jam as well.”
Mary coyly smiled at Doris and thanked her for her consideration.
“Think nothing of it, Mary,” she replied. ”You were there for me last night when I needed you and the least I can do is to be there for you this morning and make sure you get a well-earned lie in for an extra half hour before you get yourself off to work.”
Nothing more was spoken between the two women that morning before Mary set off to work in the munitions factory, but both women knew that not all was quite as it should be between them. There were things that needed to be spoken of openly between them, subtle things that needed clarifying.
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That morning at work, Mary was not her usual self. Something had happened during the past twenty-four hours, something between her and Doris, which indicated that nothing would ever be precisely the same again! All her thoughts that morning at work were not upon her job, but were instead on Doris and herself.
When Doris had asked to sleep in her bed last night, Mary had not given the matter a second thought under the circumstances. Indeed, it might have remained such, had not the goodnight kiss that Doris given her before they both settled down to sleep been somewhat shorter and of less in intensity.
Then there was the way that Doris had caressed her as Mary fell off to sleep. That had been another sign of things to come, which Mary had naively missed. On one occasion during the night, Mary had awoken to find Doris’s bare breast touching her own and their legs entwined in such a way that flesh touched flesh.
Mary had looked at Doris laid beside her in bed. Her eyes were closed and her breathing held a calmness and regularity of pace that indicated she was peaceably asleep. Mary gently moved to uncouple her legs from Doris without disturbing her bed companion and quietly turned her back.
Mary had looked at Doris laid beside her in bed. Her eyes were closed and her breathing held a calmness and regularity of pace that indicated she was peaceably asleep. Mary gently moved to uncouple her legs from Doris without disturbing her bed companion and quietly turned her back.
As she lay there wide-awake, Mary started to imagine all manner of strange thoughts for the first time in her life, as well as coming to terms with the consequences of their nocturnal actions. It was not their close proximity, not the touching of flesh upon flesh or the tightness of their embrace, which mildly disturbed Mary. It had not even been the hardening of her own breast nipples as they rested on Doris’s breast. None of those things unsettled her thoughts and wild imaginings. What disturbed Mary was the fact she had found the overall experience unnaturally pleasurable!
All of her life Mary had dreamed of motherhood. All of her life she had prized this role at the heart of her needs. She had never viewed the intimate closeness with any man as having been highly sexually or overly pleasurable. To Mary, any such act had been a means to an end, something that was functionally necessary! For the first time in her life, Mary started to sense why this was so, and for the first time inwardly, she grew to know herself better! Last night with Doris had been more sensual an experience than she had ever felt before; it had moved her more than having laid with any man!
Deep down, Mary knew she shared a love with Doris, a hidden love that had existed throughout the centuries between one woman and another, a love that dare not speak its name. A mere seven hours beside Doris in bed had stirred Mary in ways that no man’s touch or her own wildest imagination had ever moved her. It was as if her life had clicked into place within the brief space of one day and night, and for the first time ever outside of the role of motherhood, Mary could see purpose in another role; that of lover with another woman, a union between herself and Doris!
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All of her life Mary had dreamed of motherhood. All of her life she had prized this role at the heart of her needs. She had never viewed the intimate closeness with any man as having been highly sexually or overly pleasurable. To Mary, any such act had been a means to an end, something that was functionally necessary! For the first time in her life, Mary started to sense why this was so, and for the first time inwardly, she grew to know herself better! Last night with Doris had been more sensual an experience than she had ever felt before; it had moved her more than having laid with any man!
Deep down, Mary knew she shared a love with Doris, a hidden love that had existed throughout the centuries between one woman and another, a love that dare not speak its name. A mere seven hours beside Doris in bed had stirred Mary in ways that no man’s touch or her own wildest imagination had ever moved her. It was as if her life had clicked into place within the brief space of one day and night, and for the first time ever outside of the role of motherhood, Mary could see purpose in another role; that of lover with another woman, a union between herself and Doris!
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Mary returned to number 33 after her shift that morning and found that Doris had dressed both children in preparation of taking them for a walk in the park that afternoon.
Little needed to be verbalised between both women regarding the previous night. It was not as necessary now since Mary had started to come to terms with her own feelings, whereas Doris had already given the probability earlier consideration. When the two women next looked at each other, their eyes spoke a conversation that was mutually and instantly understood; a conversation that had previously remained unsaid.Then they kissed. It felt as natural as any kiss could feel and for a moment, they forgot that they were in a park filled with public strollers.
They all had a lovely afternoon in the park, during which each woman declared her love for the other. After the children had been put to bed for the night, Doris was the first to bring up the subject again.
“It now all makes sense to me, Mary, as to why that sexual spark was never there on my side with Patrick. I swear, I had no inkling why at the time; though I gave the matter much thought once I accepted that it was not natural for a wife to feel as distant as I felt, particularly when we lay naked in bed together and he was the only one of us who wanted pleasuring. I swear, Mary, until last night, I was never quite sure why this was so, though I must confess to having had some suspicions deep down ever since you entered my life.”
“Now I know! Now that I know that I was never made to hold those sexual desires most women are supposed to have for a man, I feel a great weight lifted from me. Perhaps, through finding love with you, I will for the first time in my life, find not only true happiness, but also my real self. I love you, Mary Fanning. I love you and I always will. I thank God that you and your two girls knocked on my door and came into my life! I love you, lass!”
Being the less educated party of the two, whose own words would never have been able to capture the elegance and clarity of meaning as those spoken by Doris, Mary decided to say little in reply. She felt every bit as strongly as Doris did and she was every bit as passionate and as true in purpose. Mary decided that she would let her feelings speak for her instead.
She approached Doris and after telling her plainly, ‘I love you too, Doris’ she kissed her on the lips, first tenderly and then more passionately.
Little needed to be verbalised between both women regarding the previous night. It was not as necessary now since Mary had started to come to terms with her own feelings, whereas Doris had already given the probability earlier consideration. When the two women next looked at each other, their eyes spoke a conversation that was mutually and instantly understood; a conversation that had previously remained unsaid.Then they kissed. It felt as natural as any kiss could feel and for a moment, they forgot that they were in a park filled with public strollers.
They all had a lovely afternoon in the park, during which each woman declared her love for the other. After the children had been put to bed for the night, Doris was the first to bring up the subject again.
“It now all makes sense to me, Mary, as to why that sexual spark was never there on my side with Patrick. I swear, I had no inkling why at the time; though I gave the matter much thought once I accepted that it was not natural for a wife to feel as distant as I felt, particularly when we lay naked in bed together and he was the only one of us who wanted pleasuring. I swear, Mary, until last night, I was never quite sure why this was so, though I must confess to having had some suspicions deep down ever since you entered my life.”
“Now I know! Now that I know that I was never made to hold those sexual desires most women are supposed to have for a man, I feel a great weight lifted from me. Perhaps, through finding love with you, I will for the first time in my life, find not only true happiness, but also my real self. I love you, Mary Fanning. I love you and I always will. I thank God that you and your two girls knocked on my door and came into my life! I love you, lass!”
Being the less educated party of the two, whose own words would never have been able to capture the elegance and clarity of meaning as those spoken by Doris, Mary decided to say little in reply. She felt every bit as strongly as Doris did and she was every bit as passionate and as true in purpose. Mary decided that she would let her feelings speak for her instead.
She approached Doris and after telling her plainly, ‘I love you too, Doris’ she kissed her on the lips, first tenderly and then more passionately.
“Faking hell ….. you’re blowing my mind,” Mary said as she pulled Doris closer to her. She wanted her close enough to share the same breath that lingered between their lips. This time there was no accidental touching of each other’s breasts; each touch was deliberate. There was no uncertainty in the action between them, no need to exercise caution and no pulling away as passions started to ignite and arouse that insanity of touch, which drives one mad if not instantly satisfied.
“Not here” Doris said breathlessly. “Not here, Mary. Let us retire to your bed. We can be together there, as well as keep an eye on Nellie and Nora.”
Five minutes later, both women were in bed together and each instantly knew, as they lay close in their nakedness, that all was well with the world inside these four walls. Over the next hour, their warm bodies entwined in ecstasy and lifted them to sexual heights never before imagined possible!
As they drifted off to sleep in warm embrace, part of Doris felt extremely guilty that within a few days of hearing about the death of her husband Patrick, she was feeling the happiest she had ever felt in her life. Indeed, there was a poignancy in the unfolding of events, a sort of sweet bitterness and irony in the outcome.
Doris thought that the news of Patrick’s death followed by her outpouring of tears and sadness at the time, had effectively proved her love diviner and the precipitation of her ultimate salvation. It had been the very thing which had driven her into the arms of Mary.
Five minutes later, both women were in bed together and each instantly knew, as they lay close in their nakedness, that all was well with the world inside these four walls. Over the next hour, their warm bodies entwined in ecstasy and lifted them to sexual heights never before imagined possible!
As they drifted off to sleep in warm embrace, part of Doris felt extremely guilty that within a few days of hearing about the death of her husband Patrick, she was feeling the happiest she had ever felt in her life. Indeed, there was a poignancy in the unfolding of events, a sort of sweet bitterness and irony in the outcome.
Doris thought that the news of Patrick’s death followed by her outpouring of tears and sadness at the time, had effectively proved her love diviner and the precipitation of her ultimate salvation. It had been the very thing which had driven her into the arms of Mary.
