This is from the 5 part series “Slaves of Desire” set in Victorian times. Emy Naso has written many novels set in the Victorian/Edwardian area. Emy Naso was British and wrote erotica, poems, essays and other work for magazines. He has forty novels with two main publishers and also left some twenty works that we are still getting ready for publication.
For all the work of the late, great Emy Naso:
The driver bored him. It was a never ending string of small minded talk. Ever since picking up the Doctor from the railway station at Norwich he’d gone on about the countryside.
“And the ice age formed the cliffs along by Sheringham and Cromer,” he prattled on. “Isn’t that where you are staying, Doctor Calvani?”
“Yes.” It was a one word terse answer. But it didn’t stop the flow of tedious tales.
“You’ll love Cromer. Can be a cold and bitter place when the wind turns and comes from the North East. Straight across the sea it blows. Look, Doctor, the church in the center of town. Almost there. Pity, I‘d have loved to tell you more about the place that is to become your home.”
Doctor Calvani tried to smile at the driver. He never had been a particularly jovial man when he’d lived in London. Attempts to show amusement usually ended up as a grimace. That was about all the driver got.
They clip-clopped along by the cliff, the noise of the sea at least smothering the drivers voice.
“Hold up there, boy.” The loquacious driver pulled on his reins, bringing the two horse buggy to a juddering halt.
“Nice house, Doctor. All it needs is a competent gardener to tame those trees and bushes, and the sun will be shining on you…and the house.” The driver laughed. He appreciated the joke, even if the Doctor didn’t.
“Carry your bags in, sir?”
“That would be…required.” Doctor Calvani thought about saying ’good’ but resisted the word. It was not that sort of experience in the long driver from the station. He should have been pleased that the railway from London, with it’s branch line to Norwich, had been completed the year before, otherwise it would have been a two day coach journey from the Capital to this remove part of Norfolk.
“The door is open,” the driver said supposedly to himself, making a show of the heavy cases, angling for a large tip.
“Down there will do,” the Doctor churlishly said, pointing to the middle of the dark hall. He was beginning to grow openly weary of the driver.
“As you wish, Doctor. No doubt you’ll have servants to take care of them.
The truth was Doctor Calvani had engaged three staff when he’d come a month before to view the house and rent it from an absent Earl, the rich nobleman owning much land in the area, but who had not visited it for over ten years.
“Well, then Doctor. That will be…” the driver hesitated. They’d settled the price of the journey when Doctor Calvani got off the rain at Norwich. The driver stood, smiling, shuffling on his large feet.
Doctor Calvani wanted him gone. He searched around in his cloak pocket, found the right coins, looked at the expectant face of the driver, and added, grudgingly, a few more copper coins.
“Erm, thank you, Doctor.” The facial expression and general demeanor of the driver strongly suggested he thought the money disappointing. Doctor Calvani cared nothing for the man’s feeling, hurrying him out of the door.
Now there was silence. The Doctor liked it. He stood perfectly still, his thoughts on all that had happened in London and the necessity to leave and find a home and sanctuary in Cromer, a small fishing town on the north Norfolk coast.
The dingy tranquillity of the hall was broken. From the gloom a portly man waddled across the hall. His sideway movements were almost as much as the forward ones. He was a broken human crab.
He nodded his head. It looked more like an affliction than a greeting of respect.
“Good evening, Doctor,” he said, the voice heavy with the Norfolk accent.
“Yes, will you take my bags to my rooms, er…”
“Yes, I…well, Greaves.” It was obvious the Doctor had forgotten the name of his butler and general handyman. They’d only met once before. A local solicitors who handled the Earl’s estate and rented the property to Doctor Calvani also made arrangements for the staff to be interviewed. Calvani now wondered why he had approved this decrepit crustacean.
“Would you like to see the other members of the establishment, sir?” Greaves hovered with the bags. He swayed to the left, where he carried the heaviest, tilting him like a badly loaded cargo ship..
“Yes, let’s get that out the way,” Calvani sighed, anxious to be alone.
Doctor Calvani had not meant to sound so brusque, yet it was the way he felt. He did not relish human contact. Not on these terms, anyway. He disliked most people but had predilections toward certain others. He shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his mind. That was London. Now he was away from all that. He hoped.
Greaves rolled away with his unusual gait, put the bag at the foot of the stairs, toddled unsteadily over to a row of switches, pressed two and gave the Doctor a bad impression of a smile. Both men were ill at ease.
A short time elapsed, the loud ticking of a long case clock in the hall echoing as the pendulum swung on its ever monotonous journey, back and forth for all time.
“Here they are.” Greaves broke the silence. “Mrs. Morton, the cook, Doctor. And you remember, Alice…the maid.”
Doctor Calvani grunted a greeting. He didn’t recall Mrs. Morton. She was a stout lady, her chubby face ever in motion, even when not speaking. Her graying hair severely tied back with a black ribbon. However he remembered Alice.
At the initial interview of the staff in the solicitor’s office he could picture the moment she walked in. There had been three young women applying for the position as maid. The other two had more experience. Doctor couldn’t say, or admit, why, but it was Alice who made an impression. One that had returned often to his mind.
Looking at the young woman now he hoped he’d not engaged her for the reasons all the difficulties started in London. She was twenty, an outwardly slim woman in her plain long white apron and black dress. Yet the Doctor had watched her move at the solicitors office. He detected that under her austere servant’s uniform there was a shapely body. The shabby outward clothes hid crowning femininity waiting to be discovered.
“Fine. That will be all. Greaves, take the bags upstairs. I will eat in my room tonight.”
The instruction were curt. Doctor Calvani abruptly shook his thoughts, pulling them away from Alice.
Here are just two of Emy Naso’s poems
I am your dream
Where love arouses
Our shared senses
I am your life
Together we ‘oft dally,
In craving, human arms
I am within you,
And never without
Our fire of sensuality
I am your passion,
Giving all of myself
Whatever you demand
I am the ever constant
Light in your existence,
The flame of all desire
I am your heart
Beauty in great joy,
Holding in flesh pain
I am your sorrow
When you watch
My dying body
I am your spirit
Now you weep
At my grave
I am still there
So speak to me
In my eternity
I am yours alone
So do not forget
My love was real
For My Love
Let me inside, not to invade
But furl my spirit in your heart,
The being of your memory
Slumbers in this troubled mind:
Let me comfort, now I hold the key
Between this realm and far beyond,
Tenderly waiting, always with you,
Called by the power of your love:
Let me gently reside in each thought,
Living in this world forsaken now,
Guiding in truth, holding in desire,
Gone but for a temporal moment:
Let me whisper in the deep sorrow
And hold your hand through the day,
Resting by your side when night comes
In the years and tears of separation.
Let me not drift too far, my love,
We shared, we cared, time went,
Fear not the valley of lost souls,
I have returned to hold you near.