Arian (34 page)

She took a cab. It was an extravagance she couldn’t afford but she was impatient now to get her belongings, begin her return to some sort of control of her life. She sank back into the creaking seat. She realized she was still feeling weak and tired, and was glad she was spared the long walk through Swansea and the climb up the bill to the big house.

There was no sign of Gerald. Sarah though, was sitting in the drawing room, a tray of cordial on the table beside her. She looked at Arian as though she’d grown two heads.

‘What are you doing home?’ She had followed the silent Arian upstairs and was watching as she packed away her few possessions.

‘I’m getting out of here,’ Arian spoke softly. ‘Thanks for all you’ve done, Sarah, but I can’t stay any longer. I feel I’m suffocating.’

‘You’re not well,’ Sarah’s protest was feebly made and Arian smiled wryly. ‘And you need someone to look after you. If you go back to your place you’ll have to do your own cooking and washing. Are you up to it?’ Sarah made the chores sound as bad as a term of imprisonment and Arian smiled.

‘I’ll manage. I managed before and anyway, it wouldn’t hurt Gerald to get us some help, he can well afford it.’ She hurried upstairs and hastily threw some clothes into a bag.

‘I’m sure you should wait and consult Gerald. He’s been very comfortable here,’ Sarah said when Arian returned to the drawing room.

‘I’m sure he has.’ Arian’s voice was dry. ‘What he does is up to him, he can stay if he likes. I’m off home.’ She waved her hand around the room.

‘Anything I can’t carry, he can bring me later.’ She paused. ‘I know you’ve been kind but I have to begin again, take charge of my own life. Please try to understand.’

Sarah looked down at her shoes like a small child sulking. ‘I wish you’d wait a bit. There’s no rush, is there?’

It was no good. Sarah was too self-centred to see anyone else’s point of view. For a moment, Arian wondered just why Sarah had taken her into her home but did the reason really matter?

Arian made her way back to where the cab was waiting. The driver was feeding the horse an apple and smoking a pipe. He seemed well pleased with his expensive fare and was obviously of the opinion he could afford to take a break.

Arian sank back into the cab seat with a sigh of relief. She was out of there, away from the cloying kindness Sarah heaped upon her. She’d found that living with Sarah she’d begun to feel cloistered, weak, dependent, almost as though she was unfit to plan her own future. How dare Sarah suggest that Arian go to a rest home to recuperate. What precisely did she intend to achieve by it?

Anger swept through her afresh as Arian thought of the way she’d allowed Sarah to take over her life. It wasn’t even that she liked Arian. Indeed, they had nothing in common. No, it was Gerald whom Sarah wanted to impress.

The whitewashed house seemed a haven of tranquillity; windows had been left open and the sun was warming the rooms. Arian paid off the cab driver and then went inside and stood for a moment drinking in the silence. She dropped her bag and sank down into a chair. It was good to be back.

It was much later when Gerald arrived. Arian could tell by his face that he was displeased with her.

‘Couldn’t you wait to discuss all this with me?’ He swung his hands around indicating the cheerful fire in the grate and the kettle boiling on the hob. Arian resisted the temptation to be facetious and ask him did he mean the brewing of a cup of tea, and shook her head.

‘I wanted to come home, there’s nothing to discuss.’

‘I see. So you’re fit again, are you?’

Arian was slightly puzzled by his attitude. ‘I’m feeling better, yes.’

‘Good.’ He went upstairs and she could hear him in the room they shared, putting away his things. She sighed. So that’s what he intended, he would be sleeping in her bed once more. Well, that was the bargain they’d made and it was one she would honour.

Arian settled quickly into the routine of being home again. She had given up the office and had brought her books home and had begun, tentatively, to try to collect money from her customers. Slowly, her life was falling into some sort of pattern and she had at least made a start at hauling herself onto her feet again.

Arian considered one of the biggest disadvantages of leaving Sarah’s house would be having Gerald in her bed again but after the initial move he’d made – the great show of storing away his belongings – he’d not come near her. Quite what his motive was in occupying the spare room Arian couldn’t fathom, but she didn’t intend to raise the issue with him. The great bonus of her return to her own house was being spared Sarah’s endless, inane gossip, most of which seemed focused on Gerald.

It was all too good to last. One evening when Arian was sitting at the kitchen table with her account books spread out before her, Sarah arrived unannounced with a basket of fruit and cheese and a huge crusty batch of bread. She breezed into the kitchen and set the basket down regardless of Arian’s protests.

‘It’s nothing, nothing at all. I felt like making you and Gerald a small gift, please don’t thank me.’

Arian removed her books, carefully brushing away breadcrumbs from the freshly inked pages. ‘How kind of you, Sarah. Please sit down, Gerald will be here soon.’

‘Good, it’s Gerald I want see. I need his help with my finances. I can’t manage alone and he’s so capable, you know.’ Sarah paused and looked at her archly. ‘You don’t mind if I borrow him for a few evenings a week, do you?’

For Gerald to visit Sarah several evenings a week was an appealing thought. ‘The arrangement would suit me admirably, Sarah. Feel free to borrow him any time you like.’

Gerald, when he returned home, was not quite so enthusiastic. ‘I’ll do my best, Sarah, but I’m very busy, you know.’

‘Oh, please Gerald. There are some new investments I’ve been told about and I want you to look over the paperwork before I sign anything.’

Gerald, Arian could see, was hooked. He smiled warmly. ‘In that case, I’ll come back with you right now. No time like the present.’

It was quiet when they’d left and Arian picked up her pen. She still had work to do. There was the new autumn catalogue to plan – the production of it would take several weeks. She had already written most of the glowing advertisements, describing the latest fashion in boots and shoes, a task she always enjoyed.

Whether she could afford the outlay of having the catalogue printed was questionable but if she didn’t advertise, she wouldn’t get any fresh custom. It was a difficult decision but, in the long run, she felt she would benefit by taking the risk.

Some days later Arian packed up her notes and made her way to the village of Clydach. She had arranged to meet Eline and have a talk with her about the footwear business, ask her advice, if possible. At this stage anything was worth a try.

It was the first time she’d been back to the village since Gerald had virtually abducted her, and a feeling of depression fell over her as she saw the long street and the sloping hills surrounding the boot and shoe shop. She’d been unhappy here, lacking challenge, an aim in life, and even if things were difficult now, at least she was no longer vegetating.

Eline was looking well. She had put on a little weight and it suited her. She hugged Arian and pressed a cup of tea on her the moment she set foot in the kitchen.

‘Tell me all that’s been happening to you.’ Eline leaned forward eagerly. ‘Will and me, well we were worried until we got that letter from your husband. Fancy you going back to him, I thought that was over and done with.’

Arian could hardly tell her what had really happened, it all sounded so implausible. Nor could she explain that anything, even a life that included Gerald, had been preferable to tramping the cold streets, carrying heavy boots and shoes from house to house.

‘We decided to try again, make a fresh start.’ Arian smiled. ‘Sorry it was all so abrupt but Gerald was impulsive, he was so anxious to have me home.’

‘Well, anyway, is this a social visit or what?’ Eline rose and lifted the teapot. ‘Here, hold out your cup and, whatever your reason for coming, I’m very happy to see you.’

‘Well, it’s bit of both, business and pleasure.’ Arian stirred some sugar into her tea. ‘I’d like you to do some designs for my latest catalogue and I’d like to have some of your stock, as well.’

‘Sounds interesting, but why now, Arian? I mean, I thought you dealt with Clark’s and the like.’

‘I’ll be honest,’ Arian felt it best to come clean. ‘Yes, I’ve been buying from the big companies but they’re expensive and I owe them money. The business is rocky and I need a breathing space.’

‘I see,’ Eline’s voice was guarded. ‘Well, if I can help then I’d be pleased to.’

‘I’ve great hopes for the business,’ Arian said quickly. ‘I’ve let things slide for the last few weeks but I’ve great hopes for renewing my contacts, building up a reliable clientele again. It worked before I … before I was sick and I know it will work again.’

‘I didn’t know you’d been poorly. Of course I’ll help, Arian. I’ll do all I can for you. Come on, let’s get down to business, see what we can work out.’

This was the old Eline, the good business woman and generous friend, and Arian bit her lip feeling her throat constrict with tears. ‘Right, this is what I want – as much of your stock as you can spare and say, two or three designs to include in my catalogue and, Eline, I’m grateful to you.’

‘Nonsense, let’s see if together we can’t put you back on the road to success.’

Later, as Arian made her way home, she brooded a little on the outcome of her visit. It had been unfair of her to talk about her sickness, it had put Eline under an obligation and yet she didn’t see any way around it. How else could she explain the lack of progress over the last weeks? She certainly didn’t want Eline to think she’d been slacking or that she’d made too many mistakes. Still, she had what she’d requested. Eline would send the stock down by van tomorrow and already, some of her designs were in Arian’s bag.

When she arrived in Swansea, Arian breathed in the scents of the sea with relief. It was good to be back. She heard a bird singing, the piercing notes high and sweet on the evening air and felt a catch in her throat. Freedom; how beautiful was the word, how wonderful to feel unencumbered by ties.

Suddenly restless, Arian set out quickly towards home. She would forget about business. She’d worked hard enough this past week and her mind was becoming stale. She needed time to herself and, with a bit of luck, the house would be empty. She could pretend, for a while at least, that she was her own woman, obligated to no one.

The weather was warm and the air balmy, and as Arian left the streets of Swansea and started up the hill she saw a couple walking hand in hand. A sharp regret filled her, she’d missed out on so much in life. It would be wonderful to be with a man she loved, with Calvin Temple. She imagined him walking with her, holding her hand, looking down into her eyes. All that was just a dream. She had decided long ago that love was not for her. Now it was questionable if she would even succeed in business.

She’d once had such plans, such hopes, that one day she would make something of herself, that she would be fulfilled in one way at least. Surely she couldn’t allow that dream to be snatched away from her too?

She sighed. She’d been happy once, hadn’t she? She thought with a pang about her first love, Eddie, who had been so young and ardent, so eager to please. Arian had been so innocent about love then, she’d not really begun to experience the true depths of feelings. She had given herself sweetly and carelessly to Eddie, tossing away her favours as though they didn’t mean anything. Eddie was a practising doctor now, she’d heard he had come back to Swansea with a comfortable wife and a brood of children. She hoped he was happy.

She felt a shrinking as she thought of her husband. She didn’t love Gerald, would never love him. She knew she would resent his touch more than ever now. How could she go on living this lie and yet, how could she escape from the web of deceit she’d woven for herself.

She walked up the hill towards her home. Home, what an empty word it was. House, an empty house with no laughter in it, no light or joy, just a heavy sense of duty.

It was a long walk and Arian felt tired as she reached the brow of the hill and caught her first glimpse of the white building nestling among the folding hills. It was beautified by the sunlight and yet she felt no sense of homecoming, just relief that her journey was almost over.

She walked in through the open door, longing for a hot cup of tea and a chair to sit on. In the passageway, something, some intangible instinct made her pause and listen.

From upstairs came the low sound of laughter, excited laughter, throaty and somehow suggestive. Arian climbed the stairs silently and stood on the small landing. There was the laugh again, Sarah Frogmore’s laugh but different.

Arian moved towards her bedroom and pushed the door open and, strangely, she was not surprised to see Sarah in bed with Gerald, both of them naked, both of them looking at her in startled amazement.

‘I know,’ her tone was heavy with sarcasm, ‘you’re helping Sarah with her investments.’ She retreated and made her way back downstairs. A great sense of relief filled her. It was over, her marriage, her obligation to Gerald. No longer need she feel bound to him; he had chosen to break their marriage vows and that released her from any promises she had made him.

Shortly, he appeared in the sitting room, his hair brushed, his demeanour showing no signs of embarrassment or discomfort. He looked down at her as she sat in a chair near the window and if she had expected a torrent of excuses, she was mistaken.

‘Well?’ she said softly. He glanced at her, eyebrows raised, as though she had spoken out of turn.

‘Well what?’ he asked coolly. He was not going to even try to excuse his behaviour, she realized with a sense of disbelief.

‘Well, that’s the end of our marriage,’ she said coldly. ‘I would like you to pack your belongings and get out of here and take Sarah with you.’

‘I have no intention of moving out,’ he said easily. ‘This is my house and you are my wife or have you forgotten?’