The Other Tongue

Ben seemed to be completely at his ease. He sat looking at her, stretching his legs and drinking his tea.

When Jill put down her cup he nodded. "Shall we go and have dinner?" he said.

Jill got up and they went into the hall.

"It's too warm for coats. Do we bring an umbrella?" she said.

"I've got one in my shoulder bag," Ben said. "If you don't mind sharing?"

Jill shook her head.

"Alright then. Here we go."

The pub was only a five-minute walk. It was a cosy, old-fashioned place with a lot of wood, and with a good kitchen. They went to the bar to order first, and then they sat down at a table at the back of the room.

Ben put their drinks down on the table.

"Okay," he said. "Lovely to be here with you! Thank you for joining me!"

Jill smiled, a bit nervously, but still. "Thank you for asking me," she said. "It feels like a long time ago that I last ate out with anyone."

Ben nodded. "Here too," he said. "I rarely meet someone I'd like to share a meal with. And company lunches don't count... Oh well."

He picked up his glass and raised it. "Cheers," he said.

Jill smiled, picked up hers and took a sip. "Do you like this pub?" she asked.

"Mmm, yes. It is rather like the one at home. Not too busy and fortunately not at all loud. I don't go there too often, though. No fun in going on your own."

"What is your village like?"

Ben told her a little, trying to describe the area, talking about the hills and the sheep and the houses, and Jill thought she got a good idea. It sounded like a friendly village and she would love to see it.

After some fifteen minutes their food arrived. It reduced the conversation to occasional remarks, but they both enjoyed simply sitting there together, having dinner, and the food was good.

After dinner they had another drink at a low table far from the bar. Jill sipped her drink slowly; she looked a little tense again. Ben looked at her. He weighed the pros and cons in his mind and decided to get her to talk.

"So do tell me, what is it that is really bothering you? It usually helps to get it off your chest."

Jill nodded slowly. Ben was right, of course, but did she dare? And she wasn't at all sure where to start, or when.

"I don't know, really," she said. "I have been feeling off colour for quite some time. Nearly eight weeks or so, I think. I used to enjoy running my B&B... But then everything started to be too much, it seemed. I hadn't felt like that before -- peevish and lonesome and nothing to look out for. I was afraid I might have a burn out, but my GP said the symptoms were quite wrong, and he actually thinks there is nothing the matter." She sniffed. "He tried to get me away on a holiday."

She made a face. "It didn't seem what a woman wanted at all -- from one kind of loneliness to the other. Anyway, it doesn't feel like an attractive idea. It won't make my days any shorter... As far as that goes I'd better just start working again." She looked at Ben for a moment, half hoping he'd accept it as the cause of her problems, and then she looked at her glass.

Ben looked at her. He loved looking at her, and he wished he could make her get less tense, less bound up in her own troubles. Somehow he was quite certain that she would stay stuck if she didn't start talking, and he decided that he had better try and make her. It might ruin his chances, but it would help her get a grip on her herself, at least. If she didn't, she would be definitely lost to him.

"Have you been alone for a long time?" he said. "And what went wrong?"

Jill looked into the distance. She saw eight years of marriage in front of her eyes, eight years of misery and longing and hoping for what never came. Ben seemed to feel she hadn't told all. He was right, of course. She decided she might as well try and tell him about it.

"My marriage broke up about ten years ago. It had turned out to a miserable relationship. John had seemed very old fashioned -- he didn't want any physical contact before we got married. But he hardly wanted any contact afterwards either. I fought hard to get things changed."

She looked at the table so she didn't have to meet his eyes.

"I might just as well not have bothered; it was like trying to fight a wall. I had hoped for intimacy in our marriage -- both mental and physical intimacy. But there was neither. Once we were married we never talked about things that mattered any more, and I don't think sex ever took more than five minutes -- it usually hurt." She smiled bitterly at the memory. "When I had the cheek to ask him if he could think of me, too, and make me get something out of it, he called me a slut. I was too difficult for him, he said, and he said we weren't compatible. Eventually we got a divorce. He became a Roman Catholic and joined some monastic order in Spain after two years."

She looked into the distance.

"Your marriage wasn't like that, was it?"

Ben shook his head. "Letty and I did a lot of talking -- about nearly anything, I suppose. We used to sit together in the evenings and read or listen to music, over a drink or a cup of tea..."

He smiled at the thought. "And making love seldom took less than thirty minutes, often a lot longer. It always left me with her face on my mind, her taste in my mouth, her smell in my nose and the sound of her heartbeat in my ears."

Jill had to swallow. "And Letty?"

"I told her once," Ben said. "She said she knew. It was like that for her, too."

He sighed and shook his head. "Oh well," he said.

Jill looked at him and wished it had been like that for her, that it could be like that for her. Oh, if only Ben could see something in her...

"I read a poem some time ago that seems to say something similar," she said, a little nervously. But she didn't really think he would laugh. "It's by a Bengali poet called Nabaneeta Dev Sen. I can show you at home -- oh no, wait. I put it in my telephone."

She opened her bag and got out her phone, and went to her documents. She scrolled down a little.

"Here it is," she said, "The Other Tongue," and she gave it to Ben to read. He did so, aloud.

"Come, kiss me,
with your tongue, lips, arteries and veins
let me teach you that language
that's eternally elusive in the ear,
that whispers in the blood."

She looked at Ben, hoping he would approve.

"Beautiful," he said. "Really beautiful. Yes, 'that whispers in the blood'..."

He remained silent a while, thinking about the line.

"It was like that for you?"

"Oh yes, it was. Our love whispered in my blood all the time. When Letty died it moaned...it moaned for a few years and then my blood fell silent."

"It never whispered again?"

"It has whispered again for some months now," Ben ventured.

Jill almost dropped her glass, and her face fell. Ben saw her reaction -- and he saw how she gripped the edge of her seat so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Then he added what he saw to the poem and he hoped he understood.

"Ever since that first time I stayed at your place," he said, only half noticing that a few new arrivals at the pub sat down at the other side of their table. "Over breakfast before the police arrived..."

Jill froze. She looked at him unsmiling, without showing any emotion, steadily.

Oh no, Ben thought, I must have been too impatient. He felt so uncomfortable under Jill's steady gaze that he grinned nervously at her and offered her another drink.

Jill didn't respond immediately. Then she said flatly, "No thank you. I'd like to go home."

Ben felt as though the world disappeared under his feet. But he got up and put out a hand to Jill.

She took it and let herself be helped up while she briefly broke into a smile that made Ben blush.

"Thank you," she said.

She didn't release his hand, and looked at him for a moment before they walked into the windy night, out of the saloon bar.

Then she squeezed his hand for a moment.

"I was afraid you meant you had found someone else," she said when they were out of earshot of the people in the pub. "When I read that poem I didn't fully understand it at first. But then I understood why it was that I wanted so badly to play your CD, to listen to what you like, to know what is important for you...I took it that that was love whispering in the blood."

Ben nodded. "It must have been," he said. "That's the kind of thing it does. I knew there was some barrier around you that I could not break through -- but it seems you've allowed it to come down a little."

"I hope I have. I love that poem. I couldn't teach you, though. I haven't even been outside looking in..." She thought about it for a moment. "So I hope you will teach me the language the poem speaks of. Would you mind?"

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do." He looked at Jill's earnest face in the light of the street lamps. "I spent the months that have passed since the beginning of July thinking of you in all my lonely hours. The first time away from you was manageable. But then -- I just had to go and visit you again. I think it's a good thing I did."

Jill nodded. "I'm happy you did. After you'd left in July I played Lee Ann Womack every night for a week. And I thought I would never see you again. If I had dared, I would have told you that evening what I felt for you -- but I'm not sure if I could have put it into words."

She squeezed his hand once again.

"I had thought I would never see you again," she repeated. "I had figured out for myself that you must have seen all you wanted around my place... You have no idea how glad I was to see you face this evening -- so glad I almost had to pinch myself."

She walked silently for a stretch. Ben looked at her sideways. He thought he knew by how what had been the matter; and he hoped he was right. Jill's spell of gloom could be remedied -- would be remedied if he were right, indeed.

"I had to come here," he said. "I had missed your face for too long."

Jill didn't look at him, but she nodded, and she smiled for a moment. She loved holding Ben's hand, walking with him through the dark. The number of street lights grew steadily smaller -- there weren't any in her street, which wasn't in the built-up area.

When she knew he couldn't see her face she said, "I felt so angry when I heard that girl accost you that first day in spring. I thought she'd probably pick you up just like that -- I felt she could probably have any man she wanted. But now you're here with me."

She squeezed his hand hard.

"You are worth dozens of her kind," Ben said, and pressed back. "I was so angry with her -- she had the cheek to tell me yours was a worthless B&B. Let's try and forget about her; she really isn't important."

Jill heaved a deep sigh. "I know," she said.

They walked home quickly, and Jill opened the front door. She switched on the light.

"Shall we have another drink in the living room?" she said. "I do feel like celebrating."

She didn't wait for an answer but went to the kitchen to collect a bottle and glasses. Ben looked into the kitchen for a moment. It was very well-organised, and very clean. They went to the living-room together and Jill put the tray on the table.

"Can you pour the drinks?" she said. "I'll put on some music."

She took the CD Ben had given to her from the box and put it into the player. The sounds ofGhostfilled the room.

"It's how I felt in my marriage at first," she said. "I hope I can feel like the next song soon!"

Ben smiled at her. "It's one of my favourites," he said as he poured the wine and handed a glass to Jill. She took it and had a sip. Then she sat down and smiled at Ben, a tired but happy smile.

"I love knowing you're near," she said. "It seems to do something to the colours of the day, and to its sounds...when we listened to Lee Ann Womack together last time it sounded better than ever before."

Ben nodded. "I know. It works that way." He looked at Jill, and smiled, and then he said, "I'd love to kiss you."

Jill got up, and nodded. She turned her face his way and gave him a peck on the mouth.

Ben took her hands, so she couldn't sit down again. He smiled into her eyes, and put his mouth on Jill's, and when she didn't move back he took her head in his hands and licked her lips.

Jill had never really kissed before, but she was willing to learn, and she opened her mouth to touch Ben's tongue with hers. It felt exciting and sweet, and she let herself be led by his example into a full-fledged French kiss. She leaned into him, and Ben softly pressed her body into his, enjoying the feeling of her breasts against his chest, and the taste of her tongue.

When he released her after a while she said, "That's nice. So this is how you kiss?"

"This is how I like to kiss. It was how we kissed alright. You mean that you never did?"

"We only kissed each other on the mouth sometimes -- not too often. John would sometimes allow me to kiss his cheek."

"And when you made love?"

Jill shook her head. "It wasn't a part of our lovemaking -- if you could call it lovemaking. You will really have to teach me."

Ben made a face and shook his head. "That's awful," he said. "I will gladly teach you what I know -- and I do love talking with you, about anything you want."

"And you like reading," Jill said. "I loved talking books with you..."

She sat down again to have another sip of her wine.

"I would like to try and make love with you," she said. "I hope you can stop me feeling like a ghost. Or having too many ghosts... But I may not do it right, and I can't promise I won't mess it up. It took me a couple of years before I could even enjoy masturbating."

"I won't mind if you mess things up -- your being here with me is enough, and we can take all the time we need to make you comfortable with it. I promise I won't be rough."

"I didn't think you would be rough with me. I read about it sometimes...I would love to try."

Ben nodded. "Come," he said. "Can we go to your bedroom? Or is it tainted by bad memories?"

"No. I moved after my marriage floundered. John kept the house -- he kept everything. I think he gave it to the church afterwards."

"Mmm. Anyway, that means this house is okay, doesn't it?"

"It does. Yes. Okay."

She got up.

"Let's bring our glasses, and that bottle -- we may get thirsty, cuddling."

"I'd love to cuddle! Okay."

Jill got up, taking her glass. She would love to cuddle up with Ben, nice and warm and sweet, and she wished he would kiss her again like he had that evening. She went up the stairs, and Ben followed her with his glass and the bottle.

She opened the door for him. "This is my bedroom," she said.

It looked rather like the room he stayed in. There were a couple of books on the bedside table, and there was a comfortable chair next to a small bookcase. But there was a big wardrobe, too, and Jill had a double bed. Ben put the bottle and his glass on top of the bookcase, and he put out his hand for Jill's glass.

"So -- shall I try and teach you some of that language?"

Jill stood in the middle of her bedroom, looking apprehensively at Ben.

"Are you sure it won't hurt?"

Ben nodded. "I promise I won't hurt you -- ever. Shall we just try and see where we get?"

Jill nodded earnestly.

"I'd love to -- but I am a little scared."

"I know. I will try and show you that you needn't be. Come, let's undress each other."

Jill swallowed. "Okay," she said, almost inaudible. She wanted so much to give in to the half-understood love and desire that was whispering in her ears like mad... But years of self-preservation made it very hard to do.

She stepped up to Ben, a little like a lamb to the slaughter. Ben took her face in his hands and kissed her, looking into her eyes, trying to convey his love for her. She was stiff as a rod at first, but slowly she relaxed.

In between kisses he said, "You know, you will see how wonderful things can be together. But you do have to try and trust me not to do anything you do not want."

Jill nodded hard. "I'll try," she said. "Really!"

Ben kissed her a while, and licked her lips.

"You're tickling me," Jill said. She ran her tongue along her lips, and Ben touched it with his.

She pressed back with the tip of her tongue, and their kiss turned slowly into her second French kiss ever. When she felt Ben's tongue running along hers she finally gave in to her desires and kissed him back, deeply and fervently.

Ben felt the change in her and his heart jumped. He continued kissing her for some time. Then he said, "Can I take off your clothes?"

Jill nodded. Ben smiled and kissed her again while he took the hem of her sweater in his hands and lifted it slowly. Jill put up her arms, and he lifted it over her head. He unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it down her arms, still kissing her.

"Okay?" he said. "Can I go on?"

By way of an answer Jill turned around. She wore a pink bra with diaphanous back panels. He unhooked it and she turned around. The bra was still in place, and the view of Jill's areola through the thin material made Ben very aroused.

He touched her breasts for a moment to feel her nipples through the material of her bra, and then he pushed the straps off her shoulders before kneeling in front of her.

He looked at Jill questioningly.

"Yes," she said. "It's all right!"

He smiled at her and unbuckled her belt. Next came the buttons of her trousers. He pulled them down Jill's beautiful legs and waited for her to step out of them. She wore matching panties, and Ben couldn't resist stroking her bum for a moment before taking them off, too. He ended with her socks. Then he got up and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Your turn," he said.

"Can I? It's alright with you?"

"It is. Really. I'm looking forward to you doing it very much!"

"Mmm -- okay." She had never undressed a man before. John had sometimes almost torn off her clothes, but then he generally was too hasty to even undress. He would push her down across the bed or the kitchen table and enter her roughly. This was totally new for her -- new, exciting and not a little scary, too. But she hoped it would be alright with Ben.

She smiled, a little nervously, and took off Ben's jacket and shirt. He wore no vest under it like John had done. Then she undid his belt and trousers and she finally took off his socks, too.

She stepped back to have a look at her handiwork. Ben stood looking at her and she blushed. She hoped he would like what he saw.

"I'm not like that girl," she said.

"Thank God. You don't know how beautiful you are -- gorgeous and sweet. Come, please lie down on the bed. I would like to show you how good making love can be."

Jill walked to the bed and lay down. She looked at Ben apprehensively; she felt all her muscles go tense. She hoped he could; but she was afraid he might not be able to break through years of having to be on the defensive -- years of hurt. When he had kissed her she'd felt she could break away for a moment, but all the old anxiety came crowding back in. She bit her lower lip.

Ben saw and understood, and he knew he had to go very slowly. He knew, too, that if he managed to break through Jill's defences it would be alright, and he was damned if he wasn't going to do just that. He first took off his glasses, and then he knelt down on the bed next to Jill's recumbent form, and smiled at her. He stroked her hair, and bent down to kiss her while he ran his hands along her sides.

He softly licked her lips and rubbed his nose against hers. Then he kissed slowly down her chin and neck, making his way to the valley between her breasts. Jill enjoyed the feeling of his lips on her skin, but it didn't take away the tension in her muscles, and she clenched her fists from fear of getting hurt. When Ben looked into her eyes for a moment she smiled at him, and he saw the nervousness she felt.