Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (6 page)

Once again her eyes overflowed with tears. She threw her
self facedown on the bed, sobbing soundlessly into the pillow
as she railed against the injustice of it all. She clapped her
hands over her ears to try to drown out the voices from the kitchen, but she only succeeded in muting them somewhat.

'L'Chaim!'
her father's voice rang out all too clearly.

'L'Chaim!'
came the answering chorus. Glasses were
clinked, and the toast drunk.

'Ah. Good wine,' Uncle Chaim said with a deep sigh of
contentment. 'Better than the Boralevis'.'

In the kitchen, Grandmother Goldie had watched the others
throw back their heads and swallow the wine, their faces flush
ing slightly under the glow of the rich ruby-red liquid. She
looked down at her untouched glass. Now the others stared at
her.

'You should think Senda would be invited to join in the
toast,' Grandmother Goldie said quietly.

Senda's mother, who was seated beside her husband, smiled
vaguely. Now that the negotiations were over, she was breath
ing easily, and the wine was making her feel heady and
expansive. 'Oh, I don't think Senda would be interested,' she
said. 'What's she to do with it?'

'It's her life,' Grandmother Goldie reminded her daughter.
'It's she who has to live with Solomon Boralevi.'

Senda's mother caught the unmistakably brittle tone in
Grandmother Goldie's voice. 'And it's a fine young man he is,' she responded without hesitation. 'Senda's a very lucky
girl.'

'Certainly she is,' Aunt Sophie echoed. 'She should count
her blessings. It's not every girl who catches a Talmudic
scholar. Such prestige.'

Grandmother Goldie stared first at her daughter-in-law, Sophie, then at Esther, her daughter. This was unbelievable.
A marriage should be built on a firm foundation. And should
not love be a part of it? Had they all forgotten that? And
hadn't Senda made her feelings about Solomon clear time and
again? Yes, but nobody had chosen to listen. 'Senda doesn't
love Solomon,' she stated quietly as she set her untouched
wine on the kitchen table. 'Has that not occurred to any of
you?'

Senda's mother waved her hand in irritation. 'Then she will
come to love him in time,' she said quickly. 'Love has to grow.
In the beginning, it's like it was with us . . . all of us.' She
nodded at her husband. 'From duty springs love.'

'That's all you have to say about it, then?'

Senda's mother nodded emphatically with self-righteousness. 'That's our final decision. The marriage ceremony will
take place as planned next month.'

Later, when the cottage was quiet, Grandmother Goldie tip
toed softly into the little bedroom she shared with Senda. The
window was open, and the curtains fluttered with the chill
night air. She looked down at her grandchild. Senda was lying
under the covers, her face turned toward the wall. Her breath
ing was coming regularly, as though she were asleep, but Grandmother Goldie knew she was pretending.

'Sendale, child, I know you're awake.'

Senda let out a stifled sob.

Grandmother Goldie took a seat on the edge of Senda's
narrow bed. 'It's not the end of the world, child,' she tried to
reassure her softly.

Senda didn't turn around. When she spoke, it was in a thick,
muffled mumble. 'Yes. It is.'

Grandmother Goldie sighed heavily. 'Please, Sendale,
listen to what I have to say to you.'

Obediently Senda sat up and faced her grandmother in the
dark.

'That's better.' Grandmother Goldie spoke haltingly,
choosing her words with care. 'Like it or not, a few things in
life you must understand and accept. Now you are fifteen,
almost sixteen, not a child anymore. You are a woman, and it is our lot to be hardworking and obedient.'

'And suffer through marriage to someone revolting?'

'Don't be so stubborn!' Grandmother Goldie whispered.
She shook her head. 'You may be a woman now, but you are
still a child in many ways.'

'Am I?' Even in the dark, Grandmother Goldie could feel her granddaughter's challenging gaze burning into her.

'No, you're not,' the old woman admitted at long last. 'But
you must go through with this marriage nevertheless, no mat
ter how distasteful it may seem to you. It would break your poor parents' hearts if you didn't. The shame of it! They'd
never be able to live it down.'

'But I can?' Senda countered in a low voice. "
I'm
the one
who has to live with him.
I'm
the one who's expected to give
birth to Solomon's children.' She paused. 'Grandmother
Goldie . . .' she began haltingly.

Goldie reached out and embraced her granddaughter. 'Yes,
child?'

It was then that the torrent of misery broke and the words
burst forth from Senda's lips. Quietly keening, she cried into
her grandmother's warm, gaunt bosom. 'Oh, it's not Solomon
I love,' she moaned over and over. 'It's his brother, Schmarya.
What will I do? I can't live without Schmarya!'

'You mustn't speak such things! You must get Schmarya
completely out of your mind. Do you understand?'

'How can I?' Senda cried. 'It's him I love. And he loves
me.'

'You must!' Grandmother Goldie insisted sharply. 'This is
evil! To think of your betrothed's brother in such a way!'

Senda was silent.

'Promise me!' Grandmother Goldie's voice was sharper
than Senda had ever heard it. 'You must never speak of this
again! You must banish it from your mind forever!'

Senda's eyes were as lacklustre as the dark.

Grandmother Goldie shook her. 'Promise me!' she hissed,
her fingers digging into Senda's arms.

Senda shrugged. 'If you insist,' she mumbled without con
viction.

'Promise
me!'

'I promise.'

Goldie let out a deep breath of relief. Then she held her
only grandchild in her arms, rocking her back and forth as
though she were a baby. She too was crying, not for lost love
but because she knew that by insisting Senda marry Solomon,
she had betrayed her grandchild, the person on earth she loved
above all others. 'You'll see,' she murmured soothingly,
'everything will be for the best.'

Gently Senda pulled herself out of her grandmother's arms.
'Marriage entails ... so many things.'

'It is only your duty you have to do.'

'But I'll have to . . . you know, nights . . .'

'That will come naturally,' Grandmother Goldie told her
sternly. 'You should think of your physical duties now? In
time, you'll get used to it.'

But Senda never did.

The night of her marriage, when Solomon stiffly stepped out of
his best clothes, folding each piece neatly on the chair before taking off the next, a nauseating revulsion held Senda in its
grip. She turned away from him, able to bear him in his naked
ness even less than she could when he was clothed. She was
sickened by his thick facial beard and even thicker pelt of
dark body hair. His pale scrawny body and thin, erect penis
disgusted her even more. When he slid naked under the covers
beside her, she lay there unmoving, unyielding as a rock.
'Good night, Solomon,' she said with abrupt finality, pulling
the quilt higher around her neck.

His hands moved under the covers. 'I love you, Senda,' he
said softly.

'I'm tired,' came her reply. She wanted to jump out of bed,
run outside in her flannel nightgown, and dash home to her own comforting little bed in the room she had shared with
Grandmother Goldie. Yet she knew she didn't dare. She was
honour and duty-bound to share Solomon's life and bed. Any
thing else was unthinkable.

She cringed as she felt him plant a clumsy wet kiss on the
nape of her neck. 'I
...
I don't feel well,' she pleaded, fighting
down the nausea rising in her throat. 'Maybe it was all the
wine, or the dancing . . .'

'Don't you love me?' Solomon sounded hurt. He nudged
closer to her, and Senda could feel his moist penis rigid against
her buttocks.

'Of course I love you, Solomon,' she said with resignation.
She could feel his piercing gaze, and was grateful that she had
turned away from him, her rich, gleaming copper hair covering
her face like a veil. It made her feel safer, more withdrawn,
and he couldn't see the look of revulsion on her face.

'Is something wrong?' he insisted.

'Nothing's wrong that a little sleep won't cure,' she lied. 'Now, please,' she begged, 'turn out the lamp and let me go
to sleep. Maybe tomorrow . . .'

But when tomorrow came, she found another excuse, and
the following night, yet another. Tomorrows without
lovemaking blended into tomorrows, until Solomon gave up
completely. Senda was his wife in every way but one.

'Many women don't like it,' his father told him. 'In time,
they come around.'

But Senda never fulfilled Solomon's physical passion. She
satisfied her own in the forest clearing with Schmarya, exposing for him what she could never allow herself to expose to his
brother, her husband.

To Schmarya she offered the jutting, proud strawberry nip
ples of her well-formed breasts and her softly muscled belly.

To Schmarya she offered up her lean hips and the curly
copper pubis arrowhead which nestled softly and secretively
at that part of her which was all woman.

It was Schmarya's not Solomon's, engorged phallus that
entered her, bringing her to bursting climax again and again,
making her feel loved and complete.