This story is inspired by Hard Days Night's 'No Reply' and George Andersons 'No Reply: Answered.' I really like the novelty of the plot line in these stories and wanted to explore a few variations of the same theme. It isn't meant to be taken too seriously, the situation and actions of individuals in the story are not realistic, normal people in normal relationships don't act like this, at least I hope not anyway. Hope you enjoy it, constructive comments welcomed.
Steve Jones sat on his back terrace looking over the setting sea. Maybe they should have moved here years ago, the beauty and tranquillity of the place was mesmerising.
'Here' was a small island off the north coast of Cornwall. For most of his twenty two years of marriage, Steve's wife Claire had hinted urged and finally bribed him to move from London back to the place she and countless generations of her family had grown up. Improving connections and technology and finally COVID meant he could do enough work at home to make it viable with visits back to capital limited to once a month.
Whilst living in London Claire had travelled back to the Island regularly to visit family and friends and most importantly to see her mum. They bought the property two years ago from Claire's cousin but hadn't moved in properly until 6 months ago. In the meantime Claire has spent her trips renovating, using it as a base after the major building works were complete. The property overlooked a westward facing bay which provided the awe inspiring sunset that Steve admired whilst sipping a cool beer. The property was an old farm and still had meadows and orchards close by, it looked like some newer staked trees had been planted, no doubt part of Claire's landscaping completed last spring. Trees and orchards seemed to feature across the island, Steve wondered if they were intended to provide shelter from the strong sea breezes or more likely for use in producing the much loved local cider.
He had to admit it was a good move, Claire had been right; it was a different pace of life amongst a close community many of whom were related to Claire. Claire was delighted to be 'back home' and seem to know everyone on the island. Steve felt some frostiness from the locals being an outsider but he liked their direct manner. The way everyone pitched in together was impressive, he pondered if it was all linked to the independence needed to survive as a small island community.
Steve had met Claire at University; both were studying business, Claire majored on marketing whilst Steve focused on emerging technology. They built a steady relationship and married soon after graduating, choosing to be based in London for the best work opportunities. Married for 22 years, Steve still thought Claire was beautiful. Her hair had shortened over time; it was now swept back finishing at the nape of her neck, with golden tints added to her normal light colouring. He knew she fretted over the 10lbs she had added over the years, but he actually preferred the way her figure had filled out, flaring at the hips and bust. Her eyes had remained constant, grey blue with flecks of yellow in the iris. Unlike Steve she never seemed dishevelled or lounged about in joggers, maintaining a seemingly effortlessly classical look. He had never seen his wife so happy, embroiled in island life and always involved in one committee or another. Her current project involved organising the solstice festival.
Their two girls Nicola and Michelle arrived quickly after marriage and were now grown and away to study at Durham University. This was another factor enabling Steve and Claire to relocate. The girls were making the most of University life judging by their social media, but Steve was confident they would get the work needed done, although Nicola was inclined to leave everything to the very last minute.
Steve was interested in the island history and enjoying hearing old fishing tales in the local pub, there were a few old books published which provided a bit of background about the island history, these were kept at the small school house which doubled up as the library, as well being the village hall and a general venue for all community activity.
Steve found himself having a first look through the attic of his property thinking he might find something more about the history of the place. It was mainly full of old beds frames, furniture and toys. Whilst he was digging through he found and old box which contained a hand written manuscript entitled 'Tales form an Island'. He could make out the author's name as Melissa Taylor, immediately recognising it as his wife's family name. He sat on a wicker stool and began paging through. The writing was a thing of beauty, traditional scripted with scrolls and flourishes whilst the content was a mix of passed down tales and the author's experience. It was the hand drawing of some trees which caught Steve's attention as he flipped through the pages. His eyes skipped over the content, some was faded and difficult to make out, but he could catch snippets.
... The tradition had its founding in the year 1287; it was at this time that the right of the first night, also known as 'jus primae noctis' (law of the first night) was invoked during the Plantagenet's rule. As part of the permission to wed, the ruling lord was entitled to spend the first night with any new bride within his lands.
Steve could remember a similar reference in the William Wallace film starring Mel Gibson, but was pretty sure it was a myth conveniently picked up by Hollywood to add some voyeurism and excitement to the film's plot. Steve continued reading:
... Seeing the distress this caused the groom and to prevent any attempt at murderous revenge women elders spend the same night with the groom. Over time this developed into one of the elder women bedding the groom to provide some parity for the couple.
....Plague dominated English life for two-and-a-half centuries, decimating populations. The island was not immune with many deaths. After a severe outback in 1622 there were fears about the island population being unsustainable and abandonment was seriously considered. Some-time after this there were rumours of swopping partners on all fool's day. This was linked to efforts to repopulate, with widows encouraged to seek partners amongst the younger men.
... With the Great War almost all of the men on the island enlisted in PALs divisions of the British Army. Many young men would not return, the island tradition was amended to provide younger unmarried men going to war a surrogate partner prior to enlistment. The practice was reconvened to a lesser degree during the Second World War.
The text then went on to detail Melissa's own experience during the 1950's.
... Outsiders and movement of people undermine the tradition, but it still exists between some families. The elders insist it is tradition and adds value. Married women who have raised children are encouraged to surrogate a young man reaching the age of majority, 18. For the man this removes all the angst and pressure of losing their virginity. In addition they are instructed by an experienced woman and ultimately make better husbands in the future. Divorce was unheard of on the Island. The tradition also reduced the chances of unwanted teen age pregnancies. For the women it was viewed as part public service with a hint of a reward after spending many hard years raising a family. The tradition also reduced the impact of empty nesting and the chances of illicit affairs.
Melissa went on to explain her own surrogacy of 'fine young gentlemen' reaching the age of 18, at the time she was 46 years old. With her husband busy with business, the young man 'Robert' worked on their small holding planting trees as a sign of renewal within the festival. His reward was time in the Melissa's marital bed. The text gave the impression Melissa's husband knew but never spoke about the arrangement. She described Robert's development for a shy and awkward teenager to manhood. The first time had been quick and awkward but Melissa had held him close, slowly making love again. His ability and confidence increased as the week continued. It wasn't just the physical side of things, she explained her desires and feelings and important aspects of maintaining a successful relationship.
Steve shook his head, wow what an amazing tale and began wondering how much of it was true. He could see some reasoning in the historic references but the whole thing seemed too far-fetched. It could all be in the author's imagination, either that or she was using it to excuse an affair.
Several months later Steve was deciding when he needed to travel back to the city for work. Claire had a long shopping list she wanted him to get, so he thought he'd better add a day for that and another to catch up his old friends. If he went after the festival, he could make it back by the following Saturday. Claire was delighted, no doubt by the combination of Steve being there to help with the festival preparations and agreement to do her shopping.
The festival day involved the whole island, the fate during the day focused on children's games and sports whilst a dance and drinks were planned for the adults in the evening. As the evening programme began, Steve was introduced to some islanders he hadn't met, including John Fraser, his wife Angela and their son Jake, who Steve guessed was close to his youngest daughter's age. Jake Fraser introduced himself with a rather formal handshake, it was a bit strange but the moment soon passed. Along with Taylor, Fraser was one of the oldest Island names. Steve felt like the outsider again as Claire and the Fraser's discussed old family ties.
Later in the evening Steve noticed a group of younger men looking at Claire. He couldn't really blame them; Claire looked stunning in the summer dress she had chosen which certainly flaunted her full breasts and shapely calves. The looks continued which started to annoy Steve, he was about to go over but was beaten to it by Claire's mum which made them all scurry back to the cider bar. Steve laughed to himself thinking they must be a bit scared of Claire's mum Dianne. Then again he couldn't blame them; she was a formidable woman and leader of the elder council. Steve could see where Claire had gained her looks, Dianne Taylor remained a striking woman looking more like Claire's big sister than her mum. He returned to watch the dancing which seemed to involve all ages mixing in.
Steve could feel the effects of the cider, but decided he could manage one more. Everyone seemed to have the same idea and it took him an age to get served. When he returned he couldn't see Claire and began looking around. He was surprised to finally find her seated at a table having a discussion with the Jake Fraser who moved off as Steve approached.
"What was that about?" queried Steve.
"Jake is interested in doing some of the landscaping work. I was asking about options and costs."
"Are we getting work done?"
"Yeah and it's the tradition of planting and renewing trees around about the festival time, so it might be nice."
The mention of trees triggered his memory from the manuscript Steve had read weeks earlier.
"So Jake would the plant the trees?"
"Yeah, he can start next week "
Claire looked at Steve; "Are you ok, it looks like you have seen a ghost."
Steve replied slowly, "And what would Jake receive in return."
Claire responded, "Money of course, we haven't agreed an amount yet."
"And will you provide any other services in return for his work?"
"What are you insinuating?"
Steve continued, "So this is nothing to do with the island tradition?"
Claire spluttered, "What, what tradition?"
"You know fine well about the solstice tradition. Are you part of it, are you planning to fuck Jake Fraser whilst I'm away next week?"
Claire burst into tears and ran away. Steve stood there stunned, shit what if he was wrong and he'd just falsely accused Claire. He was starting to wish he hadn't drunk so much, his mind was muddled and he couldn't think clearly. He began to walk up the single track road toward their house. He needed the walk to clear his head, it felt like the longest walk of his life. Could he have got things wrong, he might have over reacted to the story. Claire wasn't home when he got there; he collapsed on the sofa, the alcohol and exhaustion finally over-coming his thoughts as he fell asleep.
