The Final Confession Chapter 8

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The Final Confession

A novella by Theresa Black

 

Copyright 2023

Chapter 8

I was now able to visit Mammy more frequently and I was pleased to see that she had settled into her new home very well. I knew that in the past she had enjoyed spinning wool, but with all her duties at home and looking after the children, she never seemed to have time. Now however, with the older girls growing up and being able to help her, she was able to resume spinning and earn some money from the wool she spun. She suggested that soon, she wouldn’t need the money I gave her, but I demurred and said she should still take it and maybe she could afford an occasional luxury which she richly deserved.

Unlike my childhood, where I had to leave school early to look after the children, I asked Mammy to let the children stay at school until they had completed all the primary education that was available in a village school, and I was pleased that she agreed with me that a good education was important. I made sure that there was sufficient funds for this to occur. I did offer to pay for any of them who wished to attend secondary school, but they seemed content with the education they had received.

In due course the boys secured apprenticeships and the girls enjoyed living at home until they married. I like to think that my appearance at each marriage made sure that their spouses, particularly the men, did not misbehave. I remembered that when I was young I occasionally notice unexplained bruises on Mammy’s face and I suspect that Daddy was not always as kind to her as he should have been. Now, in her later years I think her enjoyment of life had greatly improved, and I was very happy that I had been the means by which she had achieved that. Mammy lived to a great age, surrounded by her children and grandchildren, and when the time came she was laid to rest next to Daddy as was her request. I think despite everything, she really loved him.

Time passed and when things are going well, we want them to stay the same forever, but it rarely happens. I began to have a feeling that Agnes had something on her mind and one evening when we were in the flat together, she told me what it was.

“Marie, I hope this will not come as a shock to you but I’m going to get married.”

I confess that after all the times of intimacy we had shared, it was rather a shock, but I hope I covered my surprise well as I stood up and hugged her, saying, “Who is the lucky man?”

“His name is John and he works in a nearby office,” she said. “We started off as friends but then we became lovers, and now he has asked me to marry him and I said ’Yes’.”.

“Congratulations to you both,” I said, trying to put on a brave face. “I’m very happy for you.”

“I’ll be sorry to leave our little flat together.” said Agnes. “Do you know what you will do?

“Well, I can take over the lease myself at least for now and think about what I want to do. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll miss our nights together. John doesn’t know about them of course.”

“Of course,” I replied, ”Your secret is safe with me.”

Later that night as we lay side by side in bed, I said to Agnes, “Won’t you miss this?”

“Of course,” she said, “But on the other hand John is a big man in every way, so that’s some compensation!”

“I know what you mean,” I replied. “Some of my regulars are well endowed and I must say it makes a difference.”

Agnes had invited me to be the chief bridesmaid with John’s two younger sisters as the junior bridesmaids. If anyone tells you that the only job of the chief bridesmaid is to make sure the bride gets to the church or wherever, on time, to look pretty but not to upstage the bride, don’t believe them. There is another commonly held belief, but I will mention that later. In fact, there is so much for the chief bridesmaid to do that I think we should be paid for it!

The first thing was to help Agnes select her wedding dress. It is a fact universally acknowledged that every bride has a vague vision in her head of what she wants to wear on her wedding day. The problem is finding it, especially if she cannot afford to have some designer make it for her, and has to go out to the ‘wedding boutiques’ to find it for herself. This is where I as chief bridesmaid came in or course. We started off at boutique number one, and after excluding some excruciating examples, the possible dresses were narrowed down to about six, each of which she changed into in turn and came out to discuss them with me. There was one there that I thought was perfect for her, and to a degree she agreed, but of course there was always the possibility that there was a better dress elsewhere, so we asked the manageress if she would kindly put it aside for Agnes and we would let her know by the end of the day if she wished to buy it, or more accurately if I wished to buy it since it was a gift from me.

I fell sorry for the manageresses of wedding boutiques – so much work and maybe at the end of it no sale, but when there is a sale, well it’s hard to believe that a dress which is only to be worn once is so expensive.

So we trawled our way around every other wedding boutique in Dublin, and it will be no surprise for you to learn that in the end we arrived back with sore feet at boutique number one and bought the dress which they were holding for us. After that, shoes had to be found to match, but we’d both had quite enough for one day, so that was left for another one. Thank goodness Agnes did not require my advice on her wedding lingerie. “So long as it’s skimpy and lacy, that will be fine,” I said, and Agnes agreed with me.

Really, men have it so easy. All the groom had to do was buy a dinner suit. One visit to a men’s tailors – job done, and patent leather black shoes are so easy to buy.

One evening, Agnes said to me, “It will be the wedding rehearsal next week and you will meet the Best Man who will be your partner at the wedding. I think you’ll like him. He’s an old friend of John’s, they went to school together. He’s tall, handsome athletic, single, a lawyer and his name is Ross.”

In the middle of prattling on she suddenly stopped and said “What’s the matter, Marie, you’ve gone white as a sheet.”

“Oh Agnes, I think I know him. You just described a man that I see regularly via the Agency. Surely there can’t be two lawyers in Dublin who look like that and are named Ross?”

Agnes was surprisingly phlegmatic. “Well there’s only one solution; John certainly won’t change his Best Man without a very good reason which I can’t give him, and I want you as Chief Bridesmaid, so if it is the same man, and I will find out for sure, without involving John of course, you will just have to pretend that you are meeting each other for the first time. I’m sure you can do that; you’ve had experience as an actress and he is a lawyer so he has to act too sometimes.”

“I hope you are right,” I said. The fact was that Ross was an amazing lover and each time I met with him, the sex got better and better. My orgasms were now on a par with those I experienced with Max.

It WAS the Ross I knew of course (including in the Biblical sense). Agnes took advantage of a short time alone with him to establish this fact. She reported the conversation to me which went roughly as follows:
“I said to him ‘Ross, there is a rather delicate matter which I must discuss with you in confidence. My cousin Marie, who also shares a flat with me, thinks she may already know you. She works for a very discreet organization which provides female companionship to gentlemen visiting Dublin.’ I then went on to describe you, and it was obvious from the look on his face that he is the Ross you have met.

‘Will this cause a problem?’ he asked, and I said there was no reason why it should, but it would be necessary for you both to act as though this was the first time you had met. He smiled at that and asked me to tell you that he looked forward to meeting you again. I reminded him that nobody else must know about this, not even John, it was to be a secret between the three of us.”

The day of the rehearsal arrived and all of the girls were waiting for the men at the church. When I saw Ross walking up the aisle with John, I confess my heart jumped at the sight of him – he was so incredibly handsome. The irony of meeting in church was not lost on either of us; however, we played our parts very well with our “How do you do’s” and fortunately the priest then appeared to take the wedding party through the ritual.

I was hoping that after it was over, we could go home but John had kindly booked a table for eight at a local cafe for supper and I had no option but to attend. It will come as no surprise to say that I found myself sitting next to Ross, and this is where the strangest thing happened. When we met via the Agency, it was effectively business; he was paying for sex and I was there to provide it, but now we were a man and woman who had apparently just met each other, but I’m sure it seemed to everyone watching that we were instantly attracted to each other . We chatted away and I was really disappointed when the supper was over and we went our separate ways. Instead of being worried, I now looked forward to the wedding day which couldn’t come soon enough for me.

“What happened there?” asked Agnes, “You and Ross got on like a house on fire.”

“Well, we know each other quite well,” I said.

“Yes, but not like tonight,” she said, “And incidentally, you are blushing and that’s not something I see you do very often.”

The wedding day arrived. Agnes and I were to leave from the flat and meet up with the other bridesmaids at the church. I was up very early to have a relaxing bath, so that Agnes could have hers after sleeping in a bit longer. She had laid out her bridal lingerie on her bed, slip, knickers, bra and corset and I said to her “John won’t be able to take his hands off you when he sees what you are wearing.”

“I certainly hope not!” she replied.

A professional hairdresser arrived to style our hair, but Agnes had decided to do her own makeup which I thought was a good idea. I have seen some brides after a professional makeup artist has finished with them and I would walk past them on the street and not recognize them.

Agnes’s wedding dress was a white slip style with intricate beading, and ankle-length hem and cap sleeves. She was also wearing a Juliet cap and a floor length veil down her back. Her white shoes had low heels and she wore white stockings.

Once she was dressed, it was my turn. I dressed in a similar fashion but with my hair in a bob and no veil of course. My slip dress was in pale pink, the same colour as the other bridesmaid’s dresses, although their styles were not as adult and sophisticated as mine.

A photographer arrived with his big camera on a tripod to take a picture of the two of us when we were ready, and then set off to record events at the church. In those days, photographs were not allowed in the church itself, but he would be taking some when the wedding party exited the church, and also of the families.

The wedding ceremony really hasn’t changed much over the years. When we stepped out of the motor car which had been hired for the occasion and were ready to walk down the aisle, Agnes on the arm of her father, the organ played the traditional wedding march. After the service was concluded, Ross and I were witnesses to the wedding, and we followed the newly married couple as they walked down the aisle, stopping to receive the congratulations of their parents and other family members.

Once the wedding party and guests had left the church, we all posed before the photographer to have a recording of the day. In those days most people did not own a camera, so the official record was to be the only one we had.. Afterwards we were driven to the hotel a few miles out into the country where the reception would be held, and the couple would spend their wedding night before leaving for their honeymoon.

The wedding reception was excellent. Ross and I were originally at opposite ends of the bridal table while the first courses were served, speeches were made and the toasts proposed. As the Best Man and a lawyer, used to public speaking, you can imagine that Ross gave a wonderful speech. He complimented the beautiful Chief Bridesmaid and her pretty bridesmaid assistants (cue a blush from me and cheers from the guests). He then had some gentle digs at the groom, with stories from their days together at school and university, but nothing too embarrassing. After he concluded, John rose for an unscheduled addenda to his own speech, mentioning that since Ross was a lawyer, he was concerned that he might receive a rather large bill for the speech when Agnes and he returned from their honeymoon. That generated huge laughter and applause.

That was followed by the cutting of the cake and the bridal waltz. After Agnes and John had taken a turn or two around the room, everyone was invited to dance, so it was only natural that I should dance with Ross. Oh goodness! This was the first time I ever danced with him, and I confess being held in his arms in this way made me feel like I was floating on air. I wondered to myself if this is what love felt like? During the dance, Ross looked down at me and said, “I’ve never seen you look as beautiful as you do tonight”. He sounded totally genuine, and what can a girl say in reply to that? I smiled my thanks as I gazed up into his handsome face.

After the dance was over, I felt so excited that I needed to go to the ‘Ladies’ to freshen up my makeup and have a chance to cool down. When I came back into the main room, I was thankful that Ross was nowhere to be seen. I needed some minutes without him to restore my heartbeat to a normal rate. It was a mild night and the French windows at the end of the room were open, so I stepped out onto the balcony and enjoyed the cool night air. There were several couples standing there, engrossed in each other, so I descended the steps and walked along a path through flowering bushes which gave off their scent to the night air. The night felt magical and I had the queerest feeling that something wonderful was going to happen.

At the end of the path, I reached the stone wall surrounding the garden and paused there for a moment. There was a footfall behind me and turning I saw Ross. “I thought I would find you here,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. My heart began to pound as he stepped closer, and then I was in his arms and we were kissing deeply, our bodies hard against each other, our desire growing by the second. I had heard people say that they couldn’t help themselves and never believed it, but now I realized it was true. In no time Ross was pulling up my skirts and I was unbuttoning his trousers and then we were locked together. There was no condom but at that moment I couldn’t care less, we both had to have each other and there was no possibility of waiting. When we both reached a shattering climax, and Ross filled me with his seed, we still clung to each other and when he finally slipped out of me, and we had recovered our breath enough to speak, I said to Ross in a half-joking manner, “You realise what we just did? If I get pregnant, you’ll just have to marry me.”

To my surprise Ross looked quite serious when he replied, “Would that be such a bad thing?”

I managed a laugh. “I’ll put that remark down to post-coital euphoria, and I won’t hold you to it.”

Nevertheless, his reply had shaken me, and I needed some time to process it.

“We had better not go back inside together,” I said. “people will talk.”

“I suppose you are right,” he said, so it was arranged that after I retrieved my handbag from where it had fallen on the ground, and given him my handkerchief to wipe my lipstick from his lips, he straightened up his suit and walked back along the path to the reception room. As he left me I gazed after him, hardly believing what had just happened. There was very little chance of me becoming pregnant since I was only a few days from the end of my monthly cycle, but I thought about what he had said to me which was almost a marriage proposal.

I set about straightening my dress and then applied some fresh powder and lipstick, hoping that evidence of what I had just been doing would not be evident. When I slipped back into the room, nobody seemed to notice me as I sat down at an empty table and poured myself a glass of cooling water. My relief was shattered when Agnes sat down beside me.

“What were you two up to?” she asked. “Don’t tell me, your blushes speak volumes.”

“Oh Agnes, it could never be, him a lawyer and soon to have fame and fortune, and me … well, you know what I am.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, girl,” she said. “Stranger things have happened.” I didn’t believe her.

At the end of the night when Agnes and John had gone upstairs to see what effect her sexy lingerie would have on him, I shared a taxi back to be dropped off at what was now my flat. It seemed very lonely as I undressed and put on my nightdress. I could still smell Ross’s semen, and should really have had a bath, but somehow I wanted to keep the evidence of him and what we had done for a little longer. I got into bed and was instantly asleep.

--ooOoo--

The following day seemed quite an anticlimax. I had no booking which I was rather happy about, since nothing could equal the events of the previous evening. That evening after cooking myself a simple meal, I was nestled on my favouite armchair reading a book when the telephone rang. To my surprise, it was Ross.

“I have to see you, Marie, it’s urgent,” he said.

“Well, I’m free this evening,” I replied. “Would you like to come around now?”

Ross arrived in about ten minutes. I made him a cup of tea and then we started to talk.

“I can’t stop thinking about last night,” he started. “I know we’ve been together a number of times and every time was great, but last night was different, spontaneous. Marie, I’ve never felt this way about any woman before. When I hinted about us getting married, I really meant it.”

“Oh Ross, you know so little about me,” I said “An up and coming lawyer could never marry a woman like me. Of course you know about the Agency, but you don’t know what I did before and you need to know or sometime in the future you may find out and you will never forgive me for deceiving you.”

“What you did before doesn’t matter to me,” he said.

“But it does to me,” I replied. “I want you to hear all about my past, and if you then decide to quietly leave, I would not blame you in the least.”

“Very well,” he said, and with that I started to tell him my story, much as I have written it down here, leaving nothing out. Ross didn’t say a word, he just listened, and as I continued my story, I realized that in all likelihood I was talking him out of my life. At the end, tears were streaming down my cheeks, and as I finished talking, I buried my head in my hands and waited to hear the front door quietly click shut behind him. I waited over a minute and still there was no sound in the room.

Very cautiously I raised my head, rubbed the tears from my eyes and looked around. Ross was still sitting there.

“You’re still here,” I said rather stupidly.

“Where else should I be?” he said quietly. “That is the bravest speech I have ever heard.”

“But surely now you can see why we could never be together?

“Well, I’m not convinced,” he replied.

“Ross, any sensible girl would jump at the chance to marry you, but what concerns me that we have never really got to know each other in the normal way that men and women do; instead we had sex first.” I paused as an idea formed in my head. “I have a proposal to make to you; tomorrow morning I am prepared to ring Mrs O’Toole and tell her that I need two months leave of absence. In that way you will know that I am not working in that time. Then I would like us to spend time together as a normal courting couple would with no sex, and if after that time we still feel the same way about each other, then I warn you that if you ask me to marry you, I will very likely say yes.”

“That sounds very reasonable to me, but will you be short of money?” Ross asked.

“No, I have savings and I will be fine,” I said, and so he agreed to my proposal.

During the next two months, we spent time together, walking in the countryside holding hands, sometimes even kissing, but no sex. I spent time in Ross’s flat just sitting there enjoying his company while he worked on a case. I was a reasonable touch-typist by now, and offered to type up any documents he needed. Sometimes I cooked us tea and it was lovely just being with him. Sometimes we went out to dinner, and I enjoyed dressing up for him. We even danced sometimes and being in his arms was very tempting, but we stuck to our resolve. We also drove to Kilcarnie so that Ross could meet Mammy and the rest of my family, and of course he charmed them. When I later spoke to Mammy on the phone, she was positively gushing about the ‘fine young man’ I had met, and hinting that he would make a great catch for me.

One evening, Ross said “I have something to discuss with you. I’ve been offered a really good job at a top practice, but there is a problem, it’s not here, it’s in Belfast. How would you feel about moving there when it would take you further away from your family?”

It amazed me that this up-and-coming lawyer would in a way ask my permission, to follow his dream. If I had seen it as a problem, would he have given up on his great opportunity? I think he might have, but of course there was no way that I would demand that he stay in Dublin, just for me.

“Ross, if we marry, then I will follow you wherever you want to go. It is not that much further from Belfast to Kilcarnie anyway, and so long as I keep my little car, I can still drive to visit them.”
“Of course you can keep it,” he smiled, “Since you won’t have your own income anymore, I will make sure you are well provided for, as befits the wife of an ‘up-and-coming lawyer’.”

It did later occur to me that there might be another reason for Ross to leave Dublin and move to Belfast – this was the time of ‘The Troubles’ and Ross being a Protestant probably felt more secure in Northern Ireland.

Time passed, and soon the two months were up. It happened to be my birthday on the two-month anniversary of our agreement, although Ross had made no reference to it. He invited me to have dinner to celebrate my birthday in one of the best restaurants in one of the best hotels in Dublin.

As you can imagine I took great care to dress in my very best gown for the occasion. It was an excellent meal. I thought that at some stage he might give me a birthday present, but nothing seemed to be happening. We had reached the coffee and liquors, when Ross reached into his pocket and produced a very small cubic box. He opened the lid and slid it towards me. Inside was the most beautiful gold ring with five quite large diamonds, an engagement ring!

“Marie, I love you very much and I am now asking you to do me the honour of becoming my wife,” he said.

“Oh Ross! Yes, yes, yes, I will be your wife and love you forever!” I replied, and with that he removed the ring from the box and slipped it on my finger, where it fitted perfectly.

We had been so engrosed in each other that we had not noticed that the restaurant was suddenly silent as everyone took an intense interest in the little drama playing out at our table. When they heard my reply, there was an outburst of cheering, clapping, and cries of ‘Congratulations!’

Beaming, Ross called over the Maitre’d and asked for a bottle of champagne, and to ‘please offer a glass of champagne to any of the other diners who would like to drink to our health. Many took up the offer, and the evening ended in a very jolly fashion.

At the conclusion of proceedings, Ross whispered to me that he had booked a room in the hotel and if I wished, but only if I wished, then I might like to spent a bit of time with him there. Of course I agreed. Two months celibacy was the longest I had endured for a very long time, and as a result of this of course we had a wonderful time together. Ross dropped me off at my flat in the wee small hours of the morning, and after a few hours sleep, I went to see Mrs O’Toole.

I’m sure the moment she saw the diamonds sparking on my hand, she knew the reason for my visit.

“Congratulations, my dear, you have a wonderful man,” she said. I asked how she knew who the man was, and she laughed.

“It’s very easy,” she said. “You asked for two months off and Ross, who normally books time with you at least every month, hasn’t called me once. I will be sorry to see you go as you have been a wonderful employee but now you are entering the next stage of your life and I wish you every success. There’s just one bit of advice I’d like to give you – tell Ross everything about your past life before he marries you.”

“I have told him everything,” I said, “And despite everything, he still wants to marry me.”

“I am so glad, my dear,” she said.

She had nearly brought me to tears. I picked up a bag and handed it to her. I knew that she was a fan of the best Irish whiskeys, and this was a bottle of Jamieson Bow Street one of the very best.

“Mrs O’Toole, I want to thank you for your kindness toward me during my time with the Agency, and I would like you to accept this bottle of whiskey as a mark of my appreciation and respect.”

I saw her eyebrows rise when she saw what the bottle was, and she thanked me profusely, which ended in a hug. Then I walked out of her office and out of another stage of my life. This really brings to an end my confession, since thereafter, my sins such as they were, would be considered very mild compared to what I had been doing in the past.

To be concluded

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Comments

Oh, the Suspense

Will the ceremony be Catholic or Protestant? I'll just have to wait and see.

Ron

Good for Marie

Dee Sylvan's picture

It seems as though Agnes and the fates are still aligned to look out for Marie. We know how this ends up, I just hope that Marie enjoys a long life with Ross and her family. I'm not sure how old Marie is at this time but now she will be raising six children while her husband Ross enjoys an outstanding career becoming a judge and knighted. She certainly deserves everything, what an inspirational story. :DD

DeeDee

Beautiful!

Lucy Perkins's picture

This was one of the loveliest pieces of Romance that I have read for a long time.
I absolutely adored the . , I buried my head in my hands and waited to hear the front door quietly click shut behind him.

And that the lovely man accepted her anyway. This really is a superlative love story, and I, for one will be sad when you wrap it up, one imagines in the next chapter?
Thank you for writing this Theresa. It has lit up my February.
Lucy xx

"Lately it occurs to me..
what a long strange trip its been."

Fairy Stories

joannebarbarella's picture

Are hard to come by, especially in the Ireland of that era, so I wish Marie and Ross "happily ever after".

Playing Catch-up

Purple Pixie's picture

I must apologise as I am just now playing catch up with this wee story.
It is just so lovely.
Thank you Theresa

The Sweetest Hours
That ere I spent
Were spent dressed
as a Lassie, Oh