The Letter Read Online Free Page A

equalling his one. Out of the wind, matching his pace to hers, he said “You told me many things on the train but failed to tell me your name.”
    Blushing she stammered, “It’s Margaret… Margaret Riley but my friends call me Maggie.”
    “Well my lovely Margaret, I mean to find out all about you.”
    Embarrassed by the words and the mischievous way he looked at her Margaret’s blushes grew crimson. No one had ever said such things to her. She didn’t care what she looked like. There was one mirror in the house and that was for her father and the boys to shave. Everyone was too busy working to gaze into mirrors.
    She tried to say his name, “Vid… yaa… ranya.” He encouraged her to repeat it but after several hilarious attempts they both gave up. “I’ll call you Ben,” she said, “It’s an ancient name and at least I can pronounce it. What’s more it suits you.”
    “I like it. I am the only son and the most important member of my family. I think Margaret was the name of one of your famous queens. I also deserve a name with a noble lineage. “
    Something indefinable in Ben’s manner made Margaret uneasy but she was too bewitched to let it bother her. He checked his watch. He’d be late for his lecture. They retraced their steps but she couldn’t keep up. He raced over Waverley Bridge disappearing in a hiss of steam from a train passing below.
     
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    They met whenever they could. Ben’s wealth was a passport to the moneyed crowd. Margaret quickly fell in with the lifestyle but tea at Jenners was beyond her wildest expectations. The swish restaurant with starched linen, polished silver and high prices was way beyond her reach. Her homemade dresses and cardigans were at odds with the slick outfits worn by most of her wealthy contemporaries. She made excuses not to go but Ben was persuasive, “Margaret, it’s just a place to eat.”
    “I know but… Jenners!”
    “So? You’ll be the prettiest there!” She pulled a face. “Oh maybe not… Anyway you’re going with me and I’m the richest!”
    They went and were served last by a vinegar-faced waitress who oversaw Ben paying the bill.
    Margaret borrowed a dress and coat from a friend to wear to her first classical concert at the Usher Hall. Captivated by the music she whispered spontaneously, “I want to dance and dance.” The glowers of fellow concertgoers made her cringe and slide lower in the seat. Ben took her by the elbow and raised her up. How she loved him! On their way home it rained. They hummed the Blue Danube twirling round and round on the slippery cobbles until she was dizzy.
    Ben was enjoying himself. In India he was adored by his mother and sisters who indulged his every whim. Everything was there for the taking and he wanted Margaret. The snatched hours in his attic room when they made love, her fair skin with its dusting of golden freckles; the brush of her wild hair across his chest increased his desire. He bought posies of flowers to put on the pillow, fed her sweets; the sugary taste of her lips dissolved in his kisses but some nights were his own.
    Every breathe Margaret took belonged to Ben. Merely repeating his name thrilled her. He opened up a whole new world haughtily overriding anything that displeased him. Besotted with her and already an experienced lover Ben wooed away any inhibitions, teaching Margaret the delights of her body and how to fulfil him.
    If only she hadn’t discovered that sex was so enjoyable! The first time they made love it seemed so natural. The exciting sensations of passion overruled common sense or shame.
     
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    Jean shared lodgings with Margaret and was frequently invited to meet her sister’s university friends; engrossed in revision she didn’t notice them gradually dwindle. The ‘Highers’ meant everything to Jean. She was relying on her sister to steady her nerves, “Maggie my exams are first. I’m alright with the Maths but the