Free When I Was Otherwise by Stephen Benatar

pretend he was far too serious for all that type of thing and acting like some old curmudgeon but in fact only wanting to lead her on? (Why, take last night, for example: the way he’d given a groan when she had moved over to his side of the bed whilst asking for a cuddle! The way he had actually got out and padded round to her side, having first snatched up the bolster and shoved it down into the space between them! The way he had threatened her with separate rooms if she still hadn’t learnt to control herself; if she still couldn’t see a need for more responsible behaviour! So…? From now on it was to be on ration , was it? His favours weren’t just to be had, it seemed—not any more—as though they were merely two a penny! He was the master of the house and in future she must earn them! Well, what a lark! In the end, of course, she had certainly managed to earn them, along with his grumbles and his grudging sigh of resignation. In truth, she thought she had earned rather better than she got, yet never mind, there were some things better not mentioned, even in fun.) But, oh my, all these delightful and tantalizing and presumably quite typical carryings-on! Daisy herself had been a bride not much more than a year ago and although naturally she wouldn’t be invited up to the bedroom she must surely remember how it was. Had she simply decided then to take the bull by the horns? Yes, that was it. It would entirely fit her character.
    Marsha remembered Daisy at the funeral, such a grim-faced plucky little woman. And Daisy had also had her father’s funeral to contend with. And her mother’s only a short time before that. So… Two parents and a husband all lost within five years! Was ‘plucky’ a sufficiently good word?
    She remembered her at her own wedding, still very much in mourning—how every eye had flown straight to her, so surpassingly dramatic in black, the one stark figure in a sea of whites and pastels!—and still residually grim-faced. “So they didn’t try to get you to postpone this whole wedding palaver? Well, I should think not, indeed! And I hope you’d have put your foot down if they had! I rather doubt it.”
    As her gift she had sent them a blanket and pair of double sheets: a generous and most useful present. Then Erica had seen the blanket and inspected it more closely, and they had found a monogram on the pair of sheets. Marsha had mentioned all this to her mother, never dreaming that such revelations would get passed on. Daisy had eventually heard about it from one of her patients—who was the sister of Florence’s maid. “D.H. on the sheets!” Daisy had cried out. “D.H.? Well—naturally! Where do you think I bought the wretched things?”
    She had insisted that D. H. Evans was still D . H . Evans, wasn’t it, or had even department stores succumbed to this modern mania for change and excitement?
    â€œChange, change, change!” she had exclaimed. “Nobody can do without it! Well, quite right too! I’m sure I’d take a dose if everything remained the same!”
    It had still been a most useful and generous present, Marsha had contended; and she only hoped to heaven Daisy wouldn’t make any mention of it now.
    â€œYes, of course you may come and visit us!” she cried down the telephone, gaily. “Good gracious! Surely you don’t have to ask!”
    â€œWell, I didn’t know if you were ever going to,” replied Daisy with her characteristic laugh.
    â€œBut you’re one of the very first people we’ve been meaning to get in touch with. In fact,” said Marsha, “you’re right at the top of our list!”
    â€œOh, well done me!” said Daisy. “Then I hadn’t been totally forgotten? Hurray and hallelujah!”
    Marsha had to admit to herself she had perhaps been a little neglectful. Between the funeral and the wedding she had