The Dressmaker’s Daughter

‘Well that’s my intention. If it all works out.’

‘It’ll break her heart, you know, Jesse.’

Lizzie was surprised at the ease with which she was talking with him. Throughout her life till this minute she’d never spoken more than a dozen words at a time to him. The obvious differences in age and gender, and their mothers’ senseless feud, had always conspired to create this unfortunate forbiddance, in her mind at any rate. But already she was engrossed in his personal life, pleased that he should consider her worldly enough to confess to. Whatever advice he asked for she would give it, impartially, and gladly. He was out of her own emotional reach now, anyway.

The sound of Joe now playing his new piano drifted out, and the accompanying singing drowned the revelry from The Sailor’s Return. Lizzie’s teeth began to chatter.

Jesse sighed with desperation. ‘Lizzie, I can’t go on as I have been – denying myself to spare Sylvia’s feelings. I swear, you’ll never believe just how hard it’s been. I’ve got this … this longing for this girl and it’s driving me mad.’

Lizzie thought how sad and intense his face looked in the half-light. She saw his eyes fill up, and his sincerity moved her. She began to understand the agony he was going through. ‘Does she know, Jesse?’ she asked intently. ‘Does this other girl know you feel like this?’

He shook his head. ‘I’ve never had the courage to tell her. I’ve always been afeared she’d turn me down.’

‘Then it’s time you said something. If you don’t, how will you ever know whether you’ve got a chance? … So who is she? If you want to tell me, that is.’

He bent down and picked up a stone, then immediately tossed it back into the horse road as he fought with his indecision. He had to tell Lizzie; he had to confess his love; and it had to be now, or the moment would be lost forever.

‘It’s you, Lizzie,’ he said, turning to look into her eyes for her reaction. ‘It’s you. Nobody else. You’re the one I want.’

Lizzie mentally gasped, not knowing what to say. Strangely she could feel the cold no more; rather, she felt hot. It was very flattering, but this was attention she could have done without. It was attention she had not sought, even though she had secretly desired it. It instantly evoked all sorts of images in her mind, some logical, some outlandish; images she would never have dreamed of two minutes ago; images of Jesse caressing her; of Sylvia heartbroken and fraught with distress; of her own mother chiding her because of the inevitable battle over who would make the best wedding dress; of Aunt Sarah chasing her with a big stick and calling her a scarlet woman.

But what could she say? If things had been different he might even now be courting her, and Ben would never even have entered the frame. But with Sylvia so in love with him it would complicate things too much; her conscience would not allow it. Even though she liked Jesse well enough.

But now there was Ben to consider. She had set her heart on Ben and she was as driven to him as the birds in the trees were driven to build nests and lay eggs. Nobody else would do. Not now.

Jesse seemed to sense her dilemma. ‘Before you say anything, Lizzie, I want you to understand that I realise there’s a big difference in our ages – I know you’re only young. I’ve thought about that – but I don’t think it matters much. If it doesn’t matter to you, it certainly doesn’t matter to me.’

Lizzie gulped. This news had come as a great shock, and Jesse had no idea how much of a shock. Already he was going too fast.

‘I don’t know what to say, Jesse. I’m that flattered. Really I am … to think as you see me like that. But I couldn’t be responsible for breaking our Sylvia’s heart. And surely you couldn’t expect me to? I could never live with myself if I had that on my conscience.’

‘I think I realise that. But at least I’ve come out into the open with it. I had to. It’s been driving me mad.’

‘But I couldn’t be what you want me to be without hurting our Sylvia.’

He turned away and shrugged his shoulders, and she heard his deep, heart-felt sigh. ‘So what d’you reckon I should do, Lizzie? Carry on and marry her? Even though I don’t love her? Should I sacrifice myself for the sake of her feelings? Should I ruin my own life so as not spoil hers?’

The biting cold seized her again. She put her hands to her shoulders, huddling herself to generate some warmth. She ought to go back indoors now – back to Ben, and all the fun; back to where all the laughter was; back to the warmth of the roaring fire. Ben would wonder what had happened to her. Any minute now he was bound to come looking. If he saw her with Jesse he would jump to the wrong conclusion, and that would be the end of that – another romance finished before it even started.

But it was not easy to turn her back on such potent admiration, when she had admired Jesse so much.

‘No, I don’t think you should wed Sylvia just because she expects it, Jesse. That’d be stupid. I think a couple should both want the same, otherwise there’s no point in them marrying. You’ll just have to tell her.’

‘But what about you, Lizzie? Would you consider taking me after I’d given up Sylvia? After a respectable time, I mean. After a month or so. I can wait. Then they could lay no blame on you.’

She avoided his eyes as the magnitude of his design struck her. ‘I hardly know you, Jesse. And even if I said yes, I should still know deep inside as it was me that caused our Sylvia to suffer. And what would her family think of me when they got to know that I’d taken her place?’

‘Maybe you worry too much about what other folk might say, Lizzie. That’s the trouble with everybody these days. It’s always what everybody else might think as dictates what anybody does. Look, Lizzie, I’m in love with you … And I don’t think you dislike me either …’

She didn’t answer. She thought better of encouraging him; of confessing that she’d always held a sneaking desire for him. He was presentable and decent. He was devastatingly handsome, his family were prosperous and his prospects were significantly better than most men’s. Of course she liked him. She had drooled over him. What girl wouldn’t?

He said, ‘D’you want to think about it? I imagine it’s come as a bit of a surprise.’

‘Oh it’s come as a surprise all right, but what’s the point thinking about it? I do like you, Jesse. I’ve always liked you. If only you knew! But Sylvia makes it impossible.’

‘So if I’d asked you to start courting afore I asked Sylvia, would you have said yes?’

‘Yes.’ She shivered again. ‘Of course I would … Gladly.’

He smiled ruefully at the wicked irony of it. ‘And I wouldn’t ask you ’cause I thought you were too young and your mother might not like it.’

‘I suppose she’d have got used to it. But I don’t think yours would have liked it. I don’t think your mother’s particularly fond of me, or my mother … I hear she thinks a lot of Sylvia, though.’

‘What my old lady thinks is neither here nor there. I’ve got my own life to lead.’

‘I’m sorry, Jesse. I am really. But in any case I’ve started seeing Ben now. It wouldn’t be fair on him, would it?’ It was an exaggeration of the truth, but in her desire now to extricate herself honourably, and without hurting his fragile feelings too much, she felt justified in saying it. And Jesse could not prove otherwise.

He shrugged, having to accept what she said. Yet somehow he felt better. The knowledge that he could have had her if he’d asked, and the relief of finally confessing the feelings he’d been bottling up for months, somehow lifted him. There might still be a chance.

Suddenly he reached for her, and his arms embraced her, clutching her to him. At once the heat from his body started to penetrate her own clothes, bringing warm relief from the biting cold, enough to keep her there for a second or two longer. She looked up at him with clear, shining eyes, half admonishing for his audacity, half grateful for those few moments of protective warmth when she needed it. But as soon as he saw her face upturned, his lips were on hers, urgently tasting her, savouring their accommodating softness, fulfilling a longing he’d harboured for so long. She allowed him to linger, not knowing whether to resist or to wring as much enjoyment from it as she could. But the immediate pleasure of his kiss outweighed her inclination to resist. She felt him growing in confidence at her unwitting responsiveness, tensing his grip around her waist with a passionate squeeze. She had often wondered how his lips, his big moustache, would feel if ever he kissed her. Now she knew. It was a rewarding experience. Her own arms went inside his jacket, to his waistcoat and around his waist, as if they had been long time lovers. It felt so warm in there and she was so cold. And his kisses were so gentle, so comfortable, so delectable.

‘Say you’ll be mine, Lizzie. I need you. Say you’ll be mine.’

She sighed. ‘Oh, I would’ve done, Jesse. I would’ve done. But how can I now? It’s just impossible. You know it’s impossible.’

‘Nothing’s impossible if you want it bad enough.’

She paused, looking into his disappointed eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Jesse … I shouldn’t have let you kiss me like that. It was naughty of me.’

‘You seemed to like it.’

‘I didn’t say I didn’t like it,’ she said quietly.

Neither spoke for long seconds. He knew without any doubt in those moments that he had failed to win her. Deep down he had always known he could never win her. She was beyond his reach.

‘If you ever change your mind …’

‘If I ever change my mind you’ll be the first to know.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise.’

He hugged her again and they remained holding each other; the warmth of his body detaining Lizzie longer still – much longer than it ought.

‘Do me a favour, Lizzie,’ he said. ‘Don’t breathe a word of this to a soul, for fear of it getting back. I intend to finish with Sylvia, but I want her to hear it from me, no one else.’

‘I won’t breathe a word, Jesse, I promise. I’d better go back in now. I’m froze to death.’