The Other Tongue

"Talk about being bored! Okay. So you did get your money after all!"

Jill smiled. "Yes I did. I have made it my habit to take down particulars of all my guests, though. Once seems quite enough. Do you always travel alone?"

"Yes I do, ever since Letty died. It would be nice to have someone to travel with again. I do try to make the best of it."

Jill nodded. "Okay," she said. "That's the only way, I think."

"It is. You are alone, too?"

Jill wrinkled her nose. "I'm divorced, actually. My husband turned out to be a completely different person from what I'd hoped and thought. He was a childhood friend... It's much better being on your own than feeling most of what you do is frowned upon."

"It must be." Ben shook his head. "People are strange. Is the bookcase still there? I left my book at home on purpose this time."

"It is. I put in a few more books. I hope you'll like them."

"Oh good. I suppose I will. I really liked what was in there." He looked at her and nodded. "I rather like poetry, and you have a nice variety in novels. You do read a lot, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. I can do it everywhere, and it is cheap, and I have a good time while reading. And besides, what else is a girl to do? I don't like knitting, and I'd hate to turn into the Lady of Shalott. No weaving or cross stitches for me."

Ben grinned. "I couldn't imagine you like that, no. But you're regal enough."

Jill blushed, and he picked up the mug Jill had put in front of him.

"Mmm, you make good coffee!"

"Thank you. It's really nice to see you again. I wish we could talk in the morning, like last time, but I'm afraid I may be too busy to sit down."

"Yes -- you must be busy now. I'll go to the town again tomorrow. Maybe I can borrow a map again for Sunday?"

"Of course. I can show you another good walk."

"Yes please. I loved the first."

Jill smiled. "What did you do with your flint mushroom?"

"It sits on my desk. I stuck it on with a piece of blue tack. Fancy you remembering that! I loved that bit of beach."

"I wish I had more time to go there."

"It would be nice if we could go together. Oh well, life seems to be a lot of work, principally."

He finished his tea just when the bell rang.

"More customers," he said. "I'll go to my room so you have your hands free. Thanks for the coffee!"

He went up the stairs while Jill went to the door to greet a couple of newcomers. The room was as nice as he remembered, and he opened the window and took in the view. He picked up the chair and put it in front of the window. Then he went through the bookcase. He found a nice whodunit that looked slim enough for him to finish before Monday, and he poured himself a little whisky from a small bottle he'd brought in the glass from the washbasin.

First he looked through the CD booklet. He put it on the table, picked up the novel and started to read. Now and then he paused to take a sip and look at the view and think of his hostess. She was every bit as nice and beautiful as he remembered -- and every bit as reserved as well. Hmm. He wondered why, and if he could ever make her overcome a little of that reserve.

Maybe she just liked to be her own woman with no ties at all. He wasn't so sure, though he couldn't say what his doubt was based on -- some gut feeling, somehow.

He shook his head and addressed himself to the book again, and read until ten, when he called it a day. He had a quick shower and turned in, looking forward to seeing Jill again at breakfast.

Jill had had a fairly busy evening. Her five rooms were all occupied, and her latest guests had only arrived at a quarter past ten. She had locked up after them and retired to her living room for a drink and some music before bed. She thought of the motley throng that had arrived that day. One of the couples was nice. They were in their early seventies, they were well-mannered and quiet and she'd had a short but pleasant conversation with them.

The other three were uninspiring but not too bad. They wouldn't be a nuisance, and she wouldn't remember them any longer than the next morning. Ben was different. She thought he really cared about her troubles with that young woman; his questions felt genuine and his smile made her feel happy. He was there for three nights again, but the B&B was so busy she wouldn't have the time to talk -- only to exchange a few words. But that wasn't the same thing.

Oh well. Maybe there would be some little time after all; she did hope so. Her rooms were all booked every night for the next few months. If he were as early a riser as last time...

She finished her drink quickly and went to bed. She had to be up early for her guests' breakfasts, and she needed her sleep. She was looking forward to seeing Ben, however briefly. She remembered sitting at the breakfast table together; it had been quiet then. Oh well, she would see.

She was up as early as always, and she was showered and dressed at six thirty. She wanted to be ready for her guests at seven. The two hours from then on were very hectic as a rule, and the more prepared she was before they started, the better. She wondered if Ben would be around at seven again; it would be nice.

Ben came into the breakfast room at seven sharp. He wished her good morning and grinned at her.

Jill smiled back at him and asked what he'd like for breakfast. His answer didn't come as a surprise, and she realised she'd have been quite shocked if it had -- she felt she should know by now, somehow. She went and arranged things, and when he had started on his breakfast she sat down at his table for a moment with a mug of tea.

She asked Ben about his plans for the day, and he told her he intended to go and explore the town some more. Could she think of some walk for the Sunday for him? Jill said she would give it some thought. She smiled a little at the idea that he must have enjoyed the walk she'd recommended the last time he visited.

She only sat down with him for five minutes, though, as some other guests came into the room and there was work to be done. Ben had his breakfast slowly, looking at Jill move between the guests and keeping them in tea and coffee. She seemed even a lot more distant with the other people, he thought. He wished he could talk with her about more personal things; he had the idea, though, that it would be wise to take his time. No sense in scaring her off. On the other hand, it would be very hard to take your time when you could only see her once in a while. Difficult. If he had world enough and time...

Oh well, it was a nice area and he would make the most of his stay. He finished breakfast, said thank you to Jill, who was very busy and only gave him a curt nod, and went out to visit the town. He remembered a few nice charity shops from last time, and a very good little restaurant -- he would have a nice day having a good look around.

Jill had finished the breakfasts around eight thirty, and after a cup of coffee in the kitchen she went and did the bedrooms. She wondered a little about the differences in the way people left their bedrooms -- some of them really made a mess of things. She started downstairs and finished upstairs in Ben's room. It was as tidy as before. She saw that he had picked a novel by one of the crime writers she liked best, and smiled. She dusted the furniture and saw that he'd put a CD on the little table.

She picked it up to have a look. She didn't know the singer, and she wondered what Ben's taste in music could be like. The title seemed to be about her B&B on a bad day... Mmm, it would do no harm if she played it -- she would be very careful with it. She hoovered the room and had a good look if there was nothing more to do about it, but decided it was okay. She put the vacuum cleaner back into the broom cupboard and collected the CD.

She switched on the stereo and slipped the disc into the player. While the music came on she sat down and took out the booklet to have a look. So this was what Ben liked to listen to...she listened carefully to the lyrics and the singer's voice, and she played the entire CD without moving from her chair. Then she got up for some lunch and some more coffee. She thought about the music she had heard, and after lunch she went back into the room and played the CD once again, so that she would remember. There were beautiful lyrics on the album, some of the songs were actually painfully so.

Beautiful. Really beautiful. She was glad that he liked this sort of thing; what if it had been some of the music her ex had liked? He had developed a taste for death metal, and after that he suddenly changed to masses. In itself it had been an improvement, but after two of them she had started to long for something a little less solemn. She could listen to this kind of music for a long time --Burnt Toast and Offerings. Very nice indeed.

Mmm, time to go and do some gardening. She would play the CD once more at about five. She put on her gardening clothes and went into the back garden first. There were a lot of faded flowers to be removed, and the farthest flower beds needed some replanting. When she had finished there she clipped the hedge along the parking place and then she went into the front garden to do some pruning. It was a lot of work, and before she knew it was tea time. She wasn't in the mood for a heavy meal, and she made herself some salad and a few crackers and cheese. She washed them down with a lot of tea, and then she went and removed the garden waste.

She had a lightweight wheelbarrow in the garden shed that could hold a lot of leaves and twigs, and she wheeled the lot to a place in the back garden that was shut off from sight by a couple of privet hedges. She would burn the stuff when it was old and dry, and when there were no guests.

The gardening tools came next, and eventually she could lock the shed, and she went inside. To her surprise it was past eight thirty by the time she'd changed back into her normal clothes, and before she had the time to put Ben's CD back he had already arrived on her doorstep.

Oh no. What to do? There was but one thing to do and that was to own up. She expected that he would be very angry. John would have exploded if she so much as touched his music without his express permission.

Ben greeted her with a big grin.

"Hello," he said. "How was your day?"

Jill almost froze. "Erm," she said. "It was okay. I worked in the garden. Er... I played your CD. I'm sorry."

Ben raised his eyebrows and looked at her. "Sorry? What about? Did you like the music?"

Jill said nothing. She stood looking at him like a schoolgirl who had done something wrong, all stiff and tense, waiting for the inevitable outburst, but to her surprise there was none. Ben just smiled a little.

"I'm sorry if you didn't like it -- I rather do," he said. "I hope I didn't ruin your day. What was it that was wrong?"

Jill struggled with her tears. "There was nothing wrong," she said. "And I do like the music." She swallowed.

Ben wondered what on earth could be the matter but decided he'd better not press things; if he insisted on an answer he might really find her in tears. "I'd love to listen to it with you," he said. "I found some other music in town; if you like, you can have a listen to that, too."

"B-b-b-but aren't you angry?" Jill was so upset that she stuttered.

"Why on earth would I be? No, I'm not."

"Honestly?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die. Look." He took two CDs from a linen bag he had over his shoulder. "This is by another favourite of mine, and this is just sweet music."

Jill took them from him and looked. She didn't know either of them, and she found it hard to read the boxes calmly. But he apparently really wasn't angry. What a relief!

She made an effort and calmed herself down. "I'd love to listen to them," she said. "Would you like to come to the living room with me?"

Ben nodded. "If that is really okay with you," he said.

"Yes, please." She showed him to her living room and asked him if he'd like something to drink.

"Tea, coffee, or a glass of wine?"

"Oh, a glass of wine, please. Can I do anything?"

"Just sit down. I'll be right back."

Jill put the music on the living room table and went to the kitchen. She still felt very upset, but it was a great relief that Ben seemed not to feel offended or angry at all. She collected a couple of glasses and a bottle of merlot and went back to the living room.

Ben sat down on the couch and looked around. Jill had a nice room, he thought. There was a light Kashmir rug in the centre, and she had a stereo in one corner with a small cupboard with CDs. There were a few cheerful pictures on the walls, a big bunch of flowers on the table and on a low side table he saw a couple of portraits -- her parents, he thought. It looked like a family altar.

Jill came in with a bottle of wine, and he looked at her in the hope she would look her usual self again. He wondered why she had been so tense over having borrowed his music. She must have had some bad experience some time in the past, he supposed. He smiled at her when she entered the room.

"Did you know Gretchen Peters?" he said. "She is one of those artists that I love listening to, even though they make me feel a little sad about life sometimes. One of the others I found today is devastating too, I think."

He shook his head, and Jill wondered what he was thinking of. Then he smiled at her. "This is a very nice room," he said. "Quite like the room I'm in upstairs, in a way. I love those flowers."

"I love flowers," Jill said. "I try to have some in the room all the time."

Ben nodded. "Okay," he said. "Er, can I have a look at your music?"

Jill felt herself go red. The question felt daunting, somehow -- what if he thought it was all of it bad? She had to make an effort to say that yes, he could.

He smiled at her and went over to her collection of CDs. He took off his glasses and had a look. They were neatly organised, and rather eclectic. "Mmm, nice!" he said. "Just like the books upstairs. There's a lot I'd love to listen to."

Jill felt relieved no end. She wondered what it was that Ben did to her. He seemed to turn the simplest question into something life threatening for her -- or rather, she did so in his presence.

"Thank you," she said, and she poured two glasses of wine. "Let's play Gretchen Peters, right?"

"Yes, please!"

Ben went back to the couch and sat down, and Jill went to her stereo and pressed play.

She recognised the tracks by now.Ghostcame first. The lyrics sounded as though they were about her; she really enjoyed listening to them. Ben was right, though, the song made her feel a little sad.

The second song was really beautiful, she thought. It sounded exactly the way she hoped life would be, sometime. Making love so sweet...if only. It had always been just plain horrible. She looked at Ben. He smiled, listening -- she expected he must have good memories that were triggered by the song, and she asked him about it when it ended.

Ben nodded. "It seems to be exactly about the kind of life we had," he said. "Nice, and a bittersweet memory." He smiled a half smile as he thought back to the time when Letty and he had spent Sunday morning taking their time and making love before they got up to a lazy breakfast and the Sunday Times. "I loved every second of it while it lasted, but it was a hard come down when it ended."

"What happened to your wife?" Jill blushed for a moment when she asked it, but she would really like to know.

Ben made a face. "She died in childbirth. She was thirty-two years old. They tried to find out why at the hospital. It seems they found a burst blood vessel but they didn't seem to know how that came about. Our daughter died, too..." He looked into the distance for a moment. "Oh well," he said. "Life is unpredictable in the extreme, and it is not fair."

"No. Certainly not. Was it a long time ago?"

"Twelve years now. It seems like yesterday at times -- I usually try to keep busy so I don't have the time to mope."

"Do you? Mope, I mean?"

Ben grinned. "Hardly ever, I hope -- at Christmas, maybe, or when it's Letty's birthday. Then being alone makes things come too close." He picked up his glass and rolled the wine in his mouth.

Jill nodded. She knew about loneliness alright. "I think I know what you mean. Although I rather feel happy I'm not with John any longer." She sat back to listen to the music. It really was a beautiful CD. If she had found out about it, she might well have bought it, too.

She slowly sipped her wine, enjoying the songs and looking at Ben, now and then. He had taken off his glasses to look at her music, and she wondered if he needed them for reading.

She felt very happy to have him around, and she slowly relaxed again. It was strange, she thought -- if she hadn't forgotten to return the CD to his room, he would never have been here, in her living room, with her. They sat cosily together, talking and listening, and enjoying their wine.

When the CD had ended Ben saw that it was already past ten.

"I think it is time for bed now," he said, and he finished his drink. "Shall I leave those CDs with you, so you can play them if you like? I can pick them up on Monday morning."

"Yes, please. I'd love to listen to them. Oh, and I have a nice walk for you for tomorrow. Shall I show you at breakfast?"

"Mmm, that would be nice! Thank you very much for a nice evening!"

"You're welcome," she said. He didn't half know how much, she thought. If only she dared tell... "Sleep sweet!"

"Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow!"

Ben left the room and closed the door. Jill looked at his disappearing form, and when she knew he must have gone upstairs she sank back in her chair and cried.

After a little while she managed to regain her composure enough to stop crying. Now what on earth was the matter with her? What was it that had made it seem imperative to go and listen to that music in the first place? And why was she so certain that Ben would be mad at her, and why had that felt like the end of the world?

She poured herself another glass of wine and put Gretchen back in her box. Then she took the one that Ben had described as sweet music. She put it into the player and sat down to listen to it. Ben was right, she thought. It was sweet music, lovely and beautiful. She listened to it while trying to find why that music had mattered so much. And suddenly it dawned upon her that it was because Ben mattered to her, that it was because he was the one man she could think of that stood out from the rest, the one man whose touch she might, perhaps, not shrink from... If only John hadn't been so bloody beastly, she might have reacted differently. As it was, she was certain of two things: she loved every moment with him, and she would never, but never dare tell him.

He would be around for another night -- she could ask him over for a glass of wine again. But then... She might perhaps send him a birthday card to keep contact? Mmm, but that wasn't quite the contact she craved. She shook her head. Life was really hard, and she wished she could step out of herself and change things. Some wish.

Oh well, time to prepare tomorrow's breakfasts. Oh, and she would find her walking map and make sure to show Ben another good walk for that Sunday. She took the map from the office and put it ready in the breakfast room. When everything was ship shape she went upstairs for the night.

She undressed in front of the mirror again. Her legs were nothing like that girl's -- they were shorter and sturdier. But her body wasn't too bad, and her breasts were good, she thought. She reached behind her back to unhook her bra. When she shook it down her arms, her breasts didn't sag too noticeably. Maybe she would pass, if it ever came to that...