Cruel Legacy
How could she ever have thought that Kenneth loved her? That she loved him? Why on earth had he ever said that he wanted her when it was obvious that he didn’t, or at least not in the way she had always thought of a man wanting a woman? It was like waking up abruptly from a dream or a nightmare.
Now the lack of sexual contact between them, the lack of sexual pressure on her from him which had pleased her so much, seemed cast in a different light, and all the doubts she had previously suppressed came rushing to the surface: the knowledge, for example, that a man who could so easily dismiss his own children from his life must surely have an intrinsic coldness about him, a coldness confirmed by his attitudes… his surroundings… and his rejection of her?
Her tears stung her eyes. She had never felt so degraded or humiliated, and it didn’t help knowing that she had brought it on herself by coming here.
As she hurried downstairs Kenneth was saying something to her, but she ignored him, her stomach churning with revulsion—against him and against herself.
He was right, she had behaved like a tart, dressing herself up like that… asking for sex.
In the hallway Kenneth reached out to touch her, but she stepped back from him.
‘No…’ she told him fiercely. ‘It’s over, Kenneth. It’s over…’ She was crying as she ran out to her car, in her mind the image of herself as he must have seen her forever etched in painful clarity, her body, her clothes a gross parody of her sexuality.
She had gone to him expecting to be received with open arms and joyful passion, expecting him to honour the gift she had given him with tenderness, with an acknowledgement of just what the step she had taken meant, and instead he had looked at her with disgust and horror…
* * *
Angrily Kenneth watched her drive away. How could she do this to him… Sally, whom he had been ready to lift up on to the pedestal he had kept waiting for her? It had taken him a long time to meet a woman fit to occupy that place, and in Sally he had believed he had found someone he could mould and teach, someone malleable and grateful enough to appreciate all that he would do for her. He had thought she knew, understood that sex was something that he felt could only be justified if it was stripped clean of all lust and passion… A physical need which could only be satisfied if its darkness was lightened by purity… a purity which only he could control and approve.
To see Sally standing there in that cheap tarty outfit, like some back-street prostitute… stockings, suspenders, a form of bondage designed to titillate the male appetite—and, worse still, to wear such garments in white, the symbol of purity and innocence…
Sally had disillusioned him completely. He had thought she understood, that she shared his feelings…
The last thing he had ever expected was that she would come here dressed like that, looking for sex.
It was just as well he had discovered the truth before it was too late.
The hallway smelled of her of the perfume she had worn. Distastefully he opened the windows. Yes, it was just as well he had discovered what she was really like… And if he was honest with himself hadn’t he always had that small doubt about her, the way she had talked almost incessantly about her children and demanded to know about his? He had always deplored that kind of foolish sentimentality. Personally he had been glad, relieved when his ex-wife had severed all contact with him, between himself and his sons.
He had never wanted children in the first place; Rebecca had tricked him into marriage by becoming pregnant. All women were adept at deceit; it was a natural instinct for them—even Sally, who he had thought had not had the intelligence for it.
Well, at least he would no longer have to worry about cultivating that appalling sister of hers and her husband, and socially Sally would probably have never quite fitted into his circle, no matter how patiently or well he had groomed her.
No, on balance he was glad it was over and that she had revealed herself to him in her true colours.
* * *
Unsteadily Sally walked up the garden path. The car was parked behind her at an angle in the road although she had no knowledge of actually driving it home. She must have done so, though. She shuddered, trembling violently as she searched in her bag for her key and unlocked the back door.
The house was still empty and silent. Joel had obviously not returned from the hospital.
She went upstairs slowly and painfully. She felt so old… drained… exhausted… terrified of letting her concentration slip in case she started visualising all over again the way Kenneth had looked at her.
Nothing in her life had prepared her for what had happened. The thought of being sexually repugnant to a man who had claimed that he loved her, of being rejected by him, was completely outside her personal experience, alien to the way she believed men and women related to one another.
It had never crossed her mind that Kenneth would react to what she was doing with anything other than eagerness and desire. Whenever she had voluntarily dressed prettily for Joel, shown him that she wanted sex, he had always responded positively to her. She had heard other women complaining about their husbands’ lack of physical interest in them, of course, especially some of the older and more outspoken nurses on the wards, but it had never occurred to her that it might be something that could happen to her.
She had been stupidly naïve, she admitted… naïve and worse… but she had thought that Kenneth wanted her… that he wanted…
She froze as she heard a car pull up outside. Joel was back.
* * *
Joel frowned as he saw how Sally had parked her car. He still felt guilty about the way he had over-reacted and criticised her in the hospital but he had been so terrified of doing the wrong thing, his fear shocking him into the realisation of how many times when the children were growing up Sally must have felt as he had done—alone… afraid; but she had never let him see it… never taken it out on him the way he…
She had looked so hurt when it had bee
n him Cathy had turned to and not her. He understood just how that felt.