CHAPTER THREE

However, a desire soon began to grow inside of Connie. All that she had was her husband and his stories, which she had been told were "empty". It made her feel so terribly uncomfortable, that she would have to separate herself from Clifford by running off into the park. She thought that the park might help her to feel like her old self again. However, it did not, because it was all still a part of this place, Wragby. A place where she felt she did not belong.

At times she thought she might be going crazy. What could she do? How could she continue with this kind of life?

Then a gentleman named Michaelis appeared. He was a famous playwright, from Ireland. For a while, he had been welcomed into the homes of many of London's richest people to take part in their dinners and parties. But once the English realized that Michaelis' plays made a joke of them, and that he actually hated the English, they immediately refused to invite him to their gatherings and spoke terribly of him as often as possible.

Clifford did not like Michaelis very much, either. However, he still welcomed him into his home, for he thought that by being kind to this famous man, his own stories might gain popularity, especially in such far away places, as America, where Michaelis had done very well.

Connie liked something about the writer. She felt that he was very honest about himself and did not try to hide anything from people. He told Clifford and Connie that he thought himself lucky, for he never wrote plays that he thought people would like. He only wrote about his own ideas.

"Well, most people of your age do not have the ability to do what you've done," said Clifford, meaning to be a little cruel.

"Ah, thirty years," said Michaelis, "Yes, I am a bit old now, aren't I? I suppose that I should soon start thinking about marriage."

"You don't sound happy about it?" commented Connie.

"Well ... you see, I'm sorry to say this, but I don't think I could possibly marry an Englishwoman, or even an Irishwoman. I'm afraid that I would need someone from a strange and foreign land. Somewhere like Turkey, maybe."

To Connie, Michaelis was a true outsider, struggling against society. He did not want fame, but simply accepted the fame that came to him through the work he naturally did. Clifford seemed ridiculous in comparison, even idiotic.

The next day, after breakfast, Michaelis decided to ask if Lady Chatterley would like to take a drive to a nearby city. Much to his surprise, the servant he had sent to her returned saying that Lady Chatterley would prefer for Michaelis to visit her on the third floor. He followed the servant upstairs. When he arrived, he looked around and noticed how different this room was from the rest of the house. Its decorations were much more modern and it had a warmer, more colorful feeling to it.

"Your room is quite nice, my lady," said Michaelis.

"Thank you. I like it up here," answered Connie.

They then sat down facing each other in separate chairs and began to talk about their families and their lives. After a while, the conversation turned back to Michaelis' success.

"Why are you so lonely?" Connie asked.

"It's my nature, I suppose. What about you? You seem to be quite lonely, yourself?"

This surprised Connie and made her feel that they shared something in common. His eyes met hers and they seemed to understand something about one another. Connie felt her heart pounding inside her chest and her breath trembled so much that she hoped he would speak again so that he might not notice.

"May I come over to you and put my hand in yours?" he asked.

Before Connie could answer, he got up from his chair, got on his knees before her, and placed his head on her legs. She was both confused and excited. She gently touched the back of his neck. Michaelis let out a deep breath and looked up at her. At that moment, Connie knew that she would not be able to stop. She gave herself to him.

He made love to her gently, and his body shook with desire, but, at the same time, he also seemed to be paying attention to the things around them, the objects and the sounds. He was giving himself to her but not all of himself. And it was the same for Connie.

After a few minutes of holding each other and relaxing from their lovemaking, Michaelis got up from the bed kissing her hands and feet. He stood silently at the other end of the room, seeming to think about something. Then he turned around toward Connie.

"You hate me now, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course not. Why would I?" replied Connie.

"They usually do ... I mean, you know, that's what you're supposed to feel, right?"

"Hardly!" she said a little angrily. Then a worried look came over her, "But, please, don't tell anyone. It would make Clifford feel awful if he knew. I don't think what we've done is bad, do you?"

"Bad? No, of course not! Oh, you're so kind. I ... " he turned his head away, and Connie knew that he was going to start crying at any moment.

"So, it's agreed that we won't let Clifford know?"

"Never! I'll never give any part of myself to him!" Michaelis suddenly whispered angrily. Then getting control over himself again, he said almost childishly, "I just need to know that you are not angry with me."

"No, not at all. You're sweet."

"Thank you. I think that I will take a drive to Sheffield and do some thinking. I will join you for afternoon tea, if you don't mind."

And then he left.

"I tell you I don't like that Michaelis at all," said Clifford later, over lunch.

"Why? Don't you think that people have been treating him rather cruelly?" asked Connie.

"He deserves it!" replied Clifford.

"But I think he's brave."

"Dear, I think you're confusing bravery with irresponsibility."

Connie thought about this for a moment. Even if it were irresponsibility, Michaelis was doing things in the world. He was making things happen for himself, while Clifford was simply trying to become famous.

Connie realized that she was in love with Michaelis, but she knew that their lovemaking would not change his situation in any way. Yet, he appreciated the kindness Connie had shown him so much that he had almost cried. And deep inside of him, behind his calm appearance, he wanted her again.

That evening, they agreed to meet again, only this time in his room. When they made love again, he reached his climax very quickly, and, afterward, placed his head on Connie's breast, while she lay there silent and a little angry that he had finished so quickly. But then she would keep him inside of her, and, somehow, his penis would remain hard, which allowed her to eventually reach her orgasm. It made Michaelis feel good that he could still give her pleasure after he had already had his.

When he left on the third day, he was still the same man as on the first. He was the kind of person who could not keep a relationship with anyone. Although she did not completely understand him, Connie felt that she loved him. But she knew that she could never love him in the way that she wanted to love him, because he needed to be alone.

For a while afterward, they wrote each other letters and occasionally met in London where they would make love in the same way as before, with his quick orgasm and her holding him inside of her until she, herself, finished.

Connie felt happy again, and it gave her extra energy to work with Clifford on his short stories. So, in a way, everyone was made happy by these little meetings between Connie and Michaelis. Clifford, of course, never knew about them.

After a while, when the meetings began to occur less and less often, Connie started to lose her energy and she once again became quiet and sad. Clifford could feel this and he wished that she could somehow become happier and more excited again. His writing was suffering for it now. It is possible that if he had known about his wife and Michaelis, he might have wanted them to continue their meetings.

(end of section)