Once upon a time,
Mrs. Miles and her daughter June were proprietors of the best Inn in Lowestoft. Many years before, Mrs. Miles had worked in the Inn for her dear Father. It had been her fifteenth summer, a time in life when young girls hoped to find a husband. The young Mrs. Miles was no different than any other young girl in the village at that time.
One day, a handsome wandering young man came into her father’s Inn. He had long dark hair and blazing blue eyes set well apart in the pale skin of his handsome face. The young girl lost her heart when he looked into her eyes. Now, it so happens this young man was a wastrel and had seen this same look many times from young girls in his travels. He knew the clever things to say to a young girl to win her heart.
And so he did. Two days later he disappeared leaving the young woman with three things: a broken heart, young June growing in her womb, and hardness in her heart against the wiles of men. Of course, there was a scandal but Mrs. Miles lived through the scandal and, after a time, the scandal had faded from the memories of the townspeople. Now, Mrs. Miles was respected in the town for the beer and wine at her Inn was always good, the food was always filling and the rooms she rented were always clean, things dear to the heart of any Englishman. Mrs. Miles’s life consisted of her Inn and her daughter. She closed her heart to everything else in the world.
And so June grew to be a young woman running the same Inn with her mother that Mrs. Miles had run with her father. Mrs. Miles was determined that the beautiful June would not suffer the same fate as she had. She hardened the heart of June against men just as hers had been hardened by the handsome young man whom had betrayed her.
In her thirteenth summer, June had grown to be a lovely young woman. The young men of Lowestoft began to come with their fathers to enjoy a mug in the Inn. While their fathers enjoyed the beer, the food, and the comraderie, the young men attentions all turned to the lovely June. But June’s heart had been turned away from them by her mother. She would pay no heed to their gestures, afraid of the wiles and the lies her mother had warned her of. One by one, the young men looked elsewhere, finding a wife among the other girls of the town.
Alone in her room at night June would sigh. All the other girls her age were getting married. Even fat Beatrix had married the baker’s son. He and she would laugh and eat cakes all day, happy in their union, their cherubic faces red from the heat of the ovens. June felt emptiness in her heart but the hardness which was in her breast was like a dyke keeping everything inside separated from the life outside. The seasons passed her by, June serving dinners and beer in her mother’s Inn.
And so it happened that on the eve of her fourteenth birthday as she worried she was about to pass from her maidenhood and into an age when the boys would no longer be casting glances her way, June was in her room preparing to change into her sleeping clothing. June was startled by a glow growing from the darkness of the corner of her room. A sudden gust blew past her and snuffed out her candle. June wished to cry out for her mother but she could not, the muscles in her throat were frozen and would not give voice to her fear.
The glow grew quickly; a golden light filled the room. From this golden aura stepped an apparition: a man, no, thought June, an eidolon of a man, with wavy golden hair gleaming in the night. He was a Greek God perhaps, for he wore no clothing. June knew no man would be in her room without his clothing on a chill autumn evening unless he was like the statues of the Greek Gods she had seen when she had visited the Palace of the Earl.
The apparition said no word, but took a step towards her. And as he stepped his passion became obvious. June gasped and covered her mouth with her hand but she did not cover her eyes never having seen a naked man before. The golden apparition approached poor June. The hands of the Golden Apparition reached up and touched her shoulders. They were warm and dry as the apparition guided her to her bed, laying her on it and joining her. As the clock tolled the end of her maidenhood the apparition stole the last shred of her girlish life. Now she was a woman in all ways.
June woke in the morning opening her eyes to the cold morning sun. She remembered the night and nervously looked around her room. There was no trace of the apparition or that anything had happened in the night. June dressed and went downstairs to help her mother prepare for the day. Several times she started to tell her mother what had occurred, or what she thought maybe had occurred but she held back, whether out of fear she would not be believed or fear of punishment she could not decide. Maybe it had been a dream.
That night, as June prepared for bed she nervously glanced around her room. Nothing. She removed her garments and dropped them over the chair in her room. Naked now, she heard a soft tread and turned. The incubus was back, smiling as he advanced towards her. June returned his beatific smile. The apparition stood before her, waiting. June took a moment to look at the strange figure. Yes, he did look like those cold marble statues in the Palace, smooth skin over muscles, graceful limbs and a face of radiant calm, full fleshy lips under a masculine nose and wide set almond eyes. But the specter standing before her was warm and fleshed, not cold marble. June took a step back, felt the bed against her legs, and lay back, awaiting her spectral paramour. A smile crossed its features turning them warmly human as he came to her again.
It continued, each night the golden visitor would appear and June would welcome it as a woman welcomes her lover. And so it might have continued if it wasn’t for Mrs. Miles’s sharp eyes. On washing day she spied a stain on June’s bedclothes. She knew what it was, shouting for June. When confronted with her deception she broke down, crying and told her mother about the spectral visitor. At first, Mrs. Miles did not believe June, thinking instead that June had allowed a young man into her bed chamber. But June denied this. Mrs. Miles fell silent. That day, the two women worked, never exchanging a word.
As June prepared for bed that night, Mrs. Miles came to her room and informed June she would remain this night to see this spirit herself. June stripped off her clothing, and as she laid them across her chair a bright glow appeared in the corner. Mrs. Miles gasped as the incubus materialized in front of her eyes. It moved towards her daughter but Mrs. Miles stepped between. It would not have her flesh this night, she vowed.
The apparition smiled, and Mrs. Miles felt a warmth she had not felt in so long she did not recognize it, at first. The ghostly presence picked her up in its arms; it turned to the door which swung open, then walked down the hall and into her chamber. The door closed behind. The specter put Mrs. Miles down and waited. She felt the warmth and knew what it wanted. It would have her or June. Mrs. Miles wished to save her daughter, but too, she recognized this long absent feeling now growing in her loins. She untied her sash and tossed clothing aside before laying back on her bed, welcoming the incubus with a growing warmth deep in her loins she had not felt in many years.
The next morning, Mrs. Miles told June that she must not prepare herself for bed that night until the bells had struck twelve. June begged her mother to tell her what had occurred but Mrs. Miles was silent. June did as she was told, and the apparition appeared in Mrs. Miles’s chamber as she prepared for bed, bringing warmth to her bed that had been cold for so many years. June, curiosity overcoming her, padded silently down the hall and listened at her Mother’s door. Angrily, she turned and fled to her chamber, burying her head in the pillows and crying for her loss.
On the morning, June stormed at her mother as she never had in her life, accusing her of theft of the golden apparition. Mrs. Miles stormed back and the day was filled with tension between the women. Even their customers could feel it and quickly fled after only one pint.
That night, as the women mounted the stairs to their chambers; June turned and coldly informed her mother that she would prepare for bed as she always had. Mrs. Miles understood that this was a contest she could not win. How could she lure the spirit to her room if the young June awaited it as well? So, she offered a bargain. Mrs. Miles would not interfere if every other night June would wait to prepare for bed, as Mrs. Miles would wait this and alternate nights. June was surprised that her mother would bend, a woman so long unyielding to any passion. June searched her Mother’s face and saw something that she had not seen before, a look of longing that June herself felt and also of shared compassion. She nodded. She watched as tears came to the eyes of her mother who quickly hugged her before running down the hall and locking herself in her room.
And so it was. The two women hardly noticed the cold northern winter winds and rain coming off the sea as their Inn became a place of warmth and merriment. The women, so known for their dour ways, now smiled and laughed with the men at their ribald jokes. The beer was still good and the food filling, but even more, Mrs. Miles’s Inn now became known for the happy women and ever more popular in Lowestoft.
It was a fine day, the first day of spring. The sun was warm and Mrs. Miles opened the door of the Inn to the warm air heralding the rebirth of the world. Soon the trees would bud break and the hills behind the town would be green with the growth. Everyone commented on the fine weather and the hope of a strong summer to bring the crops to maturity.
In a fine mood, June prepared for bed in the evening, happy for it was her night to entertain the apparition. She undressed and waited. But there was no golden glow this night. June was puzzled, then apprehensive and finally she grew angry. Of course, her Mother. June threw her dressing gown over her shoulders and stormed to her mother’s chamber, throwing open her door. Her mother lay on her bed, reading and clothed. June began to cry. Her mother consoled her until she heard the reason for the tears. Then she too, became worried. In a panic, Mrs. Miles removed her clothes and turned towards the corner from which the spectral visitor appeared. It remained dark. The women waited, but the night was cold and empty.
In the morning, Mrs. Miles and June opened the Inn. They exchanged worried glances. The day seemed an eternity to them as they were unable to concentrate of the simplest of things. The men of the town waved it away, females, they said to each other.
That night both women prepared for bed and waited. Hoping. They sat in the night waiting but nothing appeared. Their hearts were now empty where they had been filled before.
The next morning the women tried to work as if nothing was amiss. But their hearts were filled with foreboding, thinking what this must mean and what must happen to them. At noon, farmer Brown, the widower, came into the Inn for a meal. Mrs. Miles brought him a serving of sausages and good ale. As she set it in front of him, their eyes locked. She held the plate for what seemed like minutes but was just a moment. Flustered, Mrs. Miles set the plate and tankard down and retreated to the kitchen, nervously wiping her hands. Mr. Brown shook his head to clear it before thinking, I have never noticed before what a fine woman Mrs. Miles was. In the kitchen, Mrs. Miles tried to keep busy but her thoughts kept returning to Mr. Brown, what a fine man he was and that his farm was the best in Lowestoft.
Mr. Brown spent the day in the Inn, sipping his beer and talking with the other men. Every time Mrs. Miles came into the room their eyes would meet. Mr. Brown would look back at his beer and Mrs. Miles would scurry around the room until he would again look up and their eyes would meet again.
At closing Mrs. Miles sent June off to bed telling her that she would close the Inn. All of the men left to return home, except Mr. Brown, who explained that he still had a little in his mug. Mrs. Miles told him that the fire was burning low, that it was warmer upstairs and perhaps he would be more comfortable. He nodded and followed her upstairs and to her chamber. In her chamber, Mrs. Miles found what had been missing for so long.
In the morning, Mrs. Miles woke to a strange presence. She felt a body next to hers and the glories of the prior night came rushing back. But in the cold morning light she was filled with dread, dread of the handsome stranger and being abandoned. She began to cry. An arm curled round her shoulder and a soft voice lulled her, telling her to cry no more. She tried to flee but the strong arms held her close, asking what caused these tears. Mrs. Miles’s heart, which had been closed for so long had been opened in the night. The soft kindly insistent voice of Farmer Brown crumbled her defenses and Mrs. Miles told him she feared he would leave her now that morning had come.
Mrs. Miles’s heart sank at the tone of his voice telling her that, of course, he would go. But, he paused, it will be to make the preparations. Mrs. Miles turned to Mr. Brown confused by his smile which seemed so inappropriate to the moment. Seeing her confusion, Mr. Brown told her, the preparations for our wedding this Saturday.
Poor Mrs. Miles was overcome, shaking her head in disbelief. Mr. Brown simply smiled and reached out to caress his wife to be. That touch broke open Mrs. Miles’s heart completely. She knew Farmer Brown was to be her husband on Saturday. She smiled and laughed and threw her arms around her man, finally, her own man.
June emerged from her chamber to see Mr. Brown coming from her Mother’s room. She was shocked but even more shocked when he called her daughter. Mrs. Miles followed her husband to be, smiling and confirmed that indeed, she and Mr. Brown were to be wed.
In the bustle, confusion, and happiness, as the townspeople poured into the Inn to congratulate Mrs. Miles, no one had time to notice that June wasn’t smiling. She worked hard, hiding her face in the kitchen.
On Saturday, after the wedding in the town’s biggest church, the Inn was opened for the party. The town musicians set up in the square in front of the Inn and people were dancing, laughing, and singing. It was the grandest party the town had seen for years.
June was bringing food and beer from the Inn out to the party tables when she spied a handsome young man watching the dancing. They both stood silently as their eyes locked. A smile appeared on the young man’s face as June looked down and fled into the Inn.
Inside, she pointed out the young man and asked the other girls who he was. She was told that he was young Michael, son of the town Notary, home from the university to take up his father’s business.
The next time June carried food to the tables, young Michael met her at the door and helped June carry the tray. He pulled her away from the tables and out to the dancing. As they danced, their eyes met again and June felt her heart leap as it never had before meeting her spectral visitor. It too, just as her Mother’s had, broke open and allowed the charming Michael to enter. They danced many dances that day, always laughing and smiling.
Later, the Notary came to the table of Mr. and Mrs. Brown, formerly Mrs. Miles, and congratulating them said it appeared there would soon be reason for another celebration. And indeed there was another wedding party in that very same square as young Michael took June to be his bride.
And so it was, the women who had been hiding their flowers after one disappointment opened them to a good man and happiness poured in.
Did you like the story? Let me know what you thought. I answer all feedback. Please make sure your address is correct and you are set up to accept email from me:
Or you can e-mail me directly
Return to Somethings Different homepage
Copyright Rod O'Steele © 2011, 2012