CHAPTER FOUR

On a cold February morning, Connie and Clifford went out for a stroll through the park. The air was as dirty as always, but they had grown accustomed to it.

They headed toward the old forest, which was once the home of Robin Hood, the famous outlaw who helped the poor by stealing from the rich. Back in those days, the forest was huge, but now, of course, it could easily be crossed within a few hours. Clifford loved the trees and he wanted to protect them somehow.

"This is England, right here. Old England. I refuse to let anyone else destroy it. I'm having trees planted all over this area, you know."

"Yes, I know," answered Connie, while, at the same time, a factory horn sounded in the distance.

"It's at moments like these that I really wish I could have a son," he went on, "If it weren't for my family all of these trees would already be gone. Someone has got to remember and protect Old England. If we forget where we come from, there will be no England in the future! I feel that I must do this. I feel it's my duty. And when I die, there needs to be someone who can replace me and keep tradition alive in England, even if only a small part of it."

Connie did not know what to say. It bothered her to hear Clifford speak of wanting a son only for the purpose of preserving English tradition. It sounded so cold.

"What if you were to have a child with another man? I mean, we would keep the child of course, and I would be its father. It could live here with us and grow up to one day replace me. What do you think of the idea?"

Connie was surprised and disgusted by Clifford's use of the word 'it' to describe the child, as though 'it' were some animal.

"And this other man?" asked Connie.

"You'll forget him quickly. What matters is our relationship. We are husband and wife. The longer we are together, the closer we will become. We are something that will last for years, until the day we die. Sex dies within moments."

"But aren't you concerned about the type of man with whom I have your child?" asked Connie.

"I trust that you would find a good man. After all, you care for me too much to choose the wrong man."

Connie thought about how she had chosen Michaelis as a lover and how she knew that Clifford would never have approved of him.

"Will you ask me to tell you who the father is?" asked Connie.

"No, I'd rather not know, to be honest. As long as you agree with me that sex means nothing, I will trust you to find someone suitable. I think we are just doing what we have to, Connie. In order for us to feel complete and happy, we will need a child. People need to realize their needs and satisfy them or else they can't live good lives. If a person isn't having enough sex, they should go and find a lover to have sex with. If a husband and wife don't love each other, they need to find something they can both love together, like a child."

Connie was a little frightened by Clifford's words. This was a big step she would be taking. A child! And all this talk of being together forever, it meant being at Wragby forever!

"Maybe you're right," she heard herself say.

"So we agree then?"

"OK. Yes, we agree."

But then a dog appeared from behind a tree. It was a hunting dog. And suddenly behind the dog came a man riding upon a horse. He held a gun in his hands and when he saw the two standing there, he stopped his horse. At first, Connie was frightened by him. He looked like a soldier about to raise his gun and fire at them. But then he simply raised his hand and saluted them.

"Mellors, could you help me for a moment?" Clifford called to him.

The man got off the horse and approached Clifford's chair.

"I just need to be turned around so that I can start back up this hill."

"I was wondering if you could ride along with us, for the engine on this thing is very weak and I fear it may stop on our way up." Then, looking at Connie, "Oh, I'm sorry. Mellors, have you met my wife?"

"No, sir. I have not."

"Well, Constance, this is our gamekeeper, Mellors."

"How do you do, your Ladyship."

"How do you do," replied Connie a little shyly.

She felt that he must have been a soldier. His movements were all very quick and purposeful. She found his coldness very strange and too extreme, but, at the same time, she felt that deep inside of him there was warmth.

"So how do you like working at Wragby?"

Mellors paused for a moment and then said, "I like it very much, your Ladyship." He said this with a bit of his countryside accent. He sounded as though he was from this area. But when he spoke with Clifford there was no accent to be heard.

"Well, let's get moving, shall we?" Clifford suggested.

They moved back along the path toward the house, and, as they approached the gate to the park, Connie suddenly ran forward and opened it for the two men. After they had passed the entrance she then ran to catch up with them.

The sky was an ugly gray now. It looked like it might snow at any moment. The world seemed so terribly tired and sad. And Connie felt this inside herself. She needed something, something else in her life. Clifford, of course, did not realize this, for he did not pay that kind of attention to people. However, other people could tell. Mellors could probably see it in her eyes, if he would only look at her.

Around the back of the home they arrived at the entrance, but there being no steps, it was necessary for Clifford to raise himself up from the chair with his arms and for Connie to lift his dead legs in order to transfer him to the house wheelchair. Seeing this, Mellors grew very frightened. He could not imagine Connie being able to support Sir Clifford's weight. But she managed.

"Anything else, Sir Clifford?"

"No, that'll be all, Mellors."

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble for you," added Connie.

Her words surprised the gamekeeper. He turned around to her and said, in his local accent, "No trouble at all, your Ladyship!"

Later at lunch, Connie asked Clifford to tell her more about Mellors.

"He's a local man, who used to work at the mines as a blacksmith, I believe. Two years before the war, he started working here as the gamekeeper for my father. Then he joined the Army. When I'd heard that he had returned from the war and was back at the mines, I invited him to act as our gamekeeper again."

"Does he have a wife?" asked Connie.

"No, she left him for another man. In fact, I think it was another worker at the mine. They live in town." Then Clifford thought for a moment. "Oh, yes, and I think that he has a child, but I'm not really quite sure."

Connie felt a little sorry for the gamekeeper. He seemed lonely. And it troubled her to hear Clifford talk about him in such a distant and uncaring way. She felt that the whole world was becoming colder. The idea of living so many more years in this world, caused her to feel a little afraid. Everything about her life seemed more and more empty: her relationship with Clifford, her life at Wragby, and, yes, Clifford's stories. Truly, he was nearly famous now. His picture could be seen in various places in London, including a couple of museums. He was considered one of the most modern writers in the country. Connie, however, started to feel that his stories really had very little to say, at all.

At this time, Michaelis had begun work on a play that included a character similar to Clifford in it. He wrote to Clifford about it, and the idea of having someone acting as himself in a play excited him greatly. Clifford invited Michaelis to his home, and the Irishman soon came with the first part of the play completed. He read it to Clifford and Connie, and they both loved it. But, later that night, he was disappointed to find that Connie did not visit his bedroom.

The next day, when he went to her room, he asked her opinion of the play. She praised it highly and this made Michaelis feel wonderful, although, Connie knew deep down that the play was really nothing.

"So, why don't we get married, you and I?" he suggested suddenly.

"But I have a husband," Connie replied.

"Oh, he cares only for himself! Why stay with someone who can't show you a good time?"

"And what do you mean by that?" she asked.

"I mean wonderful clothing, parties, and travel to distant countries! All that!"

The whole time he said all of this, Connie had no feeling. She only thought about how selfish men really are to expect women to follow them around, like stupid little puppies, by holding money and diamonds before their eyes.

"Well, I'll think about it," she finally answered, "Clifford is disabled, you know."

"Disabled? Think about my disability! I'm lonely!" cried the Irishman.

Later that night, Connie went to Michaelis' room, as he had asked her to. He seemed to put more energy into his lovemaking that night, but he still seemed weak and gentle, like a young boy, to Connie. And because he reached his climax very quickly, she had to continue long after his to reach her own. He managed to stay hard for her and she remained active on top of him until she finally felt the pleasure she had been seeking.

Afterward, as they lay there, still and quiet, Michaelis suddenly burst out with the angry words: "Why can't you ever have your orgasm at the same time as mine? You always have to keep riding on top of me, and I have to lie there uncomfortably!"

Connie was very surprised and disappointed by these words. Was sex just a quick three-minute adventure to him? Could he really be that selfish?

"Don't you want me to feel good?" she asked.

"Yes, of course, but is it always necessary for me to have to sit through hours of you riding about up there? All women are this way. Either they can't have their orgasm at all, or it takes them hours to get there!"

And suddenly all of Connie's sexual desire for Michaelis, and for all men in general, disappeared. She had been close to agreeing to marry him that night, very close. It is possible that he knew that and said this on purpose to ruin everything.

After that, Connie felt horribly sad and alone in the world. She had only this life with Clifford, this long life of habit and boredom.

(end of section)