1984: Winston's Harem

Winston

Winston had always known there was something more to O'Brien. He saw it the first time he met him, that peculiar way the man's eye's glimmered behind his glasses. And now, Winston had finally managed to get him alone and speak to him without the intruding eyes of Big Brother. (O'Brien was actually the one who got him alone, but Winston wasn't the type of person who bothered himself so much with semantics. That would be Syme.) O'Brien spoke to him about the Brotherhood, a rebel organization, and gave him a book written by its supposed leader, Goldstein.

Winston wasn't stupid. He knew of the many dangers of coming to this place and participating in this conversation. There could be hidden telescreens, the walls were not soundproof, the window was not sealed... O'Brien could be a member of the Thought Police himself. But this had been the first real conversation Winston could remember having since almost as long as he could remember. It was worth it.

Winston had finished reading only half of the thin—extremely illegal—book before he had to rip his eyes away. The dusty orange of sunset had coated the world outside. O'Brien had left almost immediately after they finished their conversation, and Winston knows he already took too long to get home. Katherine was an attentive wife. This was one of the few times where Winston cursed his marriage. It wasn't entirely uncommon for Party officials to go and look for prostitutes in the proletarian districts. He's sure he would have done it at least once if he were not close with Katherine. Truly, if Katherine had been any more orthodox than she already was, Winston had no doubt she would have left as soon as she found out that they were not able to conceive children together. Of course, Winston was glad she never did; she brought some excitement into this dreary Party life if theirs. As of the moment, though, her unorthodox devotion to him proved to be quite an inconvenience.

Hurriedly, he made his way back to his and Katherine's flat. When he came inside, he found his wife asleep and some leftovers on their dining table. Winston ate and undressed, slipping into bed, carefully avoiding any movement that might disturb Katherine. It was a little strange that Katherine decided not to wait for him today, especially considering how long he was out. Winston had thought that she would be waiting for him and was relieved to find that she was not. This gave him more time to organize his story in case she questioned him later. Katherine shifted in her sleep, causing Winston to almost jump. He forcibly relaxed his muscles and closed his eyes, tired from reading in such dim light for so long. He resolved to finish it next time he visited. After some time, Winston finally drifted into a fitful sleep, dreaming of a land where chocolate was limitless and books all had well-loved pages.

The following morning, Winston woke up the time he usually did, feeling a little out of sorts. Katherine was already out of bed, and a cold breeze chased whatever vestiges of sleep remained in Winston's mind. It seems they forgot to close their window tightly last night. It would sometimes fall open on its own unless somebody made sure to secure it in a particular way, and it seems that it had done so last night, sucking what little warmth the walls might have retained. 

"I woke up a little bit late today," Katherine said, tossing on her clothes. Winston could not see her expression, but her voice sounded quite hurried. Following her example, Winston began his preparations for the day as well. "We'll just have to have some saccharine tablets for breakfast. C'mon, we can't be late to our stations." 

"Do we have any coffee?" 

"Yes yes of course," Katherine replied quickly. Winston blinked as a cup was shoved into his hands. When he looked up, his wife was already out of the room and at the door leading outside. Winston took back everything he thought yesterday about this marriage being inconvenient. He downed the coffee—real coffee, because Katherine was well liked by members of the inner party—and felt a satisfaction in knowing that the Party was feeding people like him, who now indulged in thoughtcrime daily, every minute of his waking existence. Having finished dressing, Winston made his way to the door after setting the cup down in their sink. 

When they were outside, Katherine finally breached the subject. 

"How was the business with Syme yesterday? It must have been a lot of trouble if he kept you for so long," Katherine said nonchalantly, adjusting her scarf so that it fit more snugly around her neck. 

"Ah, no it wasn't too much work. I suspect he had just wanted an excuse to corner someone and ramble on about his Newspeak dictionaries. I supposed I must have lost track of time listening to him yesterday, sorry for coming home so late," Winston returned easily. "Sometimes that pedant could actually be pretty interesting. I hope you didn't wait too long to eat."

"I was tired from the work yesterday. I had eaten and fallen asleep before I knew it." Katherine glanced over a little shyly, biting her lip. "I had intended to wait for you..." Winston had been married for some years now. Neither he nor Katherine could be considered young, yet there are times like this when she manages to make him feel as if he had wronged a virginal maiden. He knew she did this on purpose; she knew that he knew that she did this on purpose. It worked every time. Before Winston could say anything more, however, Katherine continued, "But Syme is an intelligent man. All of that linguistic stuff... I wouldn't understand any of it. You could go and listen to him more often. I'm sure he would love the company, and, well," she bumped his shoulder teasingly. "You should find some friends to talk to, do something outside of work, maybe even help Parsons organize a hike or two for the Junior Spies." 

Winston felt an arm sliding onto his shoulders, and the greasy odor of unshakable indoctrination that flooded his nostrils gave its owner away.

"Yeah Winston, help me organize a hike or two for the Junior Spies!" 

"I might, Parsons, I might..." Winston attempted to discreetly shake off the limb, then blatantly slipped out when it didn't work. A gust of wind very conveniently blew by. He took off his outer jacket and put it on Katherine's shoulders as a half-hearted excuse, shifting in the process so that he and Parsons were on opposite sides of her. "Be careful of the cold." Katherine smiled warmly—with only a hint of sadistic mirth crinkling the corners of her eyes—thanking him and pitying him enough to put her arm around his waist while she allowed him to drape his over her shoulders. Parsons seemed oblivious to the exchange. Winston felt a little insulted when he accidentally brushed Katherine's side during his idiotic spiel, but he knew that condemning him would be the same as condemning a dog who accidentally slobbered on his wife's shoe in front of him. 

Soon, the ministries came into view. They all went their separate ways.