Arian (42 page)

She sighed heavily and Jono tentatively put his arm around her.

‘I’ll protect you from him, don’t you worry. That man had better not come near you or I’ll break his bluddy neck.’ His face reddened. ‘’Scuse language, mind.’

Arian forced a smile. ‘Well, that’s that then. At least I know, now. No more uncertainty. I’m a married woman, tied to Gerald until death do us part.’

‘Don’t upset yourself,’ Bridie said. ‘There’s worse things than that in life, at least you have your health and strength. The trip seems to have done you some good. You’re looking better and there’s colour in your cheeks now.’

Bridie’s voice held a note of happiness. She was clearly anticipating the return journey when she could spend more time with her new love, Paul Marchant.

As though Bridie had picked up on Arian’s train of thought she spoke softly, the features of her face transformed so that she looked beautiful.

‘Paul will be taking us on the voyage home,’ she leaned close to Arian so that Jono wouldn’t hear her. ‘I can talk to him again, let him hold me in his arms, feel his mouth on mine. I can hardly wait.’

Arian felt a pang of envy. She wished she could feel such a burning desire to be with a man instead of the grudging acceptance she’d come to know with Gerald.

They were to stay in a small pension that night because the ship wasn’t leaving until the morning. It was irksome to Arian, who wanted to shake the dust of France from her feet for ever.

‘We’ll have supper together,’ Bridie said, ‘and then perhaps take a walk along the dockside.’

Arian glanced at Bridie. It was clear she was hoping to catch a glimpse of Paul. Bridie seemed to have fallen in love with him far too quickly and Arian hoped she wouldn’t end up being hurt.

She was tired now and longed to lie down and close her eyes but there was a last-minute hitch; the pension was full and their rooms no longer available. The concierge was most apologetic but her elegant shrug told Arian plainly that there was nothing she could do.

‘We’ll sleep on board,’ Arian said decisively. ‘That’s the only alternative. We can hardly go looking for accommodation at this time of night.’

She set out purposefully towards the docks with Jono and Bridie coming along behind her, arguing about what had gone wrong with the arrangements for the night’s accommodation, questioning each other’s competence.

‘I thought I made it clear that we meant to come back. I
know
I booked the rooms for two nights,’ Bridie said positively. ‘I don’t understand what can have gone wrong.’

‘I do.’ Arian turned to look over her shoulder. ‘Madame had the choice of a big party or the three of us and she thought of her cash book first.’

‘You are so mercenary, Arian.’ Bridie caught up with her, her heels tapping the cobbles loudly, ‘I’m sure it was just a genuine misunderstanding.’

Was she mercenary, Arian wondered? She thought not. Money was not a prime consideration in her life. But she did want to be a success, she was sure of that and yet success continued to elude her.

She sighed, what would she do now? She had tried to go into business several times and for one reason or another had failed. Perhaps she would be better off working for someone else, just doing her job and taking her monthly salary with gratitude like most people did.

But that wasn’t her way. She would never be satisfied with second best. She would prefer to make a little money working for herself than a lot of money working for someone else.

Paul Marchant was not on board but Bridie called a command in her halting French to one of the deckhands to lower the gangplank. The ship creaked and groaned against the harbour wall and Bridie fumed impatiently. Once the gangplank was in place, Bridie mounted it as though ready to do battle with someone and sheepishly Jono indicated that Arian should precede him.

‘Don’t take any notice of our Bridie’s moods.’ He followed Arian up the shaky gangplank. ‘She’s got a lot of growing up to do yet. Spoiled she’s been, all her life.’

Arian found herself on the moving deck and smelt the salt of the air with a sudden sense of excitement. She was going home. She would accept what she couldn’t change. She was married but she wouldn’t allow the fact to ruin her life.

She was surprised, later, when Paul Marchant asked her to go to see him in his cabin. Bridie looked at her in astonishment, her pique showing in her expressive face.

‘What does he want you for?’ Her voice was sharp.

‘Well, there’s only one way of finding out.’ Arian left the cabin almost able to feel Bridie’s anger. She smiled. Bridie needn’t worry. Paul was an opportunist and he would find Bridie James and her shipping line much more attractive than anything Arian could offer.

When she knocked, he called to her to come in. He was seated behind a desk, a pen in his hand, a book open before him.

‘Mrs Simples,’ he spoke in a businesslike tone, ‘I’ve a proposition for you.

Later Arian returned to the cabin she shared with Bridie. She appeared to be asleep. Arian shrugged. She was pleased not to have to talk, she had a lot on her mind.

Her mind was on the edges of sleep when she made her decision – she would do what Paul Marchant asked. It would be an adventure. Another thing, from now on, she would enjoy men when and as she could. She would never be a wife to anyone again, she would be forever a mistress. Her last waking thought was of Calvin Temple and when she woke in the morning, her eyes were still damp with tears.

Calvin was riding over the hills above Honey’s Farm, glad to be out in the open air with the tang of autumn in his nostrils. He’d had enough of women, he told himself, of would-be wives – good ladies all, but so earnest and boring. In any case, he’d had one marriage and that had ended in disaster. It was a mistake he was in no hurry to repeat. Of course, had Arian been free, the whole issue would have taken on a different complexion, but she was not. She was married to Simples, a man who was a thief and a villain. So much for the judgement of women, he told himself bitterly.

He rode high up the hill and reigned in the mare, pausing to look down into the valley below. The blue of the sea contrasted with the russet-leaved trees that lined it and far out on the horizon was a ship in full sail making for the arms of the harbour.

It was a fine day for a man who was lonely. He smiled at his own self-pity and lifted his head to look above him at the light racing clouds.

The thunder of hooves vibrated beneath him before the big white stallion came into view over the hill. Calvin’s heart thumped unexpectedly as he saw the bare legs and long flying hair of the woman riding the animal bare-back.

‘Arian,’ her name was carried away on the wind and then she was coming towards him, slowing the mad gallop, drawing the sweating horse to a halt.

Like adversaries, they eyed each other in silence and then Arian smiled. It was like the sun washing the landscape in light and Calvin dismounted.

Arian jumped lightly to the ground and he saw with almost a sense of pain that her feet, tiny, exquisite feet, were bare.

‘Little gypsy.’ The words sounded like an endearment. She stood before him, looking upwards, her lashes thick and golden, her eyes flecked with sunlight. He wasn’t sure who moved first but then she was in his arms.

He kissed her deeply, passionately and she clung to him. He could feel her slender body trembling and with a thrill of joy he knew she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

‘Let me take you home,’ he said, holding her close, smelling the sunlight in her hair and the freshness of her skin. ‘I don’t know what brought you up here but by God I’m glad to see you.’

‘Make love to me here, under the sun.’ She took his hand and drew him down into the coarse grass and quickly, with complete abandon, she loosened her skirt and bodice. She lay like a nymph, naked against the grass, a creature from another, ethereal world. In any other woman, the act would have jarred but somehow, with her, it was so right.

He stretched beside her and touched her wonderingly, her flesh was firm and so white, dappled by late, mellow sunlight. He buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes, knowing that he had never wanted anything in the world as much as he wanted Arian.

She lifted his head and deliberately kissed his mouth. He felt a fire begin to burn within him. He knew he must possess her. He drew her close. She shuddered, closing her eyes and he was still for a moment, wanting the joy of anticipation never to end.

It was Arian who began to move beneath him and the fire encompassed him. He could no longer resist the temptations of her sweetness. It was so right, so natural. He cradled her and even as he took her a great tenderness mingled with his passion.

When it was over, they lay together still, Arian clinging to him, unwilling to let him go. He knew then he could never have enough of her. Until now, he’d only tasted of love, this was the reality.

He twined his fingers in her hair and she looked up at him, questioningly. ‘Will you come to live with me, Arian?’ His voice was humble and he held his breath until, slowly, she shook her head.

‘No, Calvin, my love, I won’t come to live with you.’ She was rising, drawing her skirt over her nakedness. ‘I’m still a married woman and there’s been enough scandal in your life.’

‘Do you think I’d care about gossip? I want you Arian, I—’ She stopped his words by putting her hand over his mouth.

‘No, Calvin, don’t spoil things, don’t say any more.’ With a suddenness that took him by surprise, she was astride the waiting horse. She looked down at him for a long moment, her face softened by passion and then, she turned the animal and was racing away across the hills, hair streaming behind her like a silver cloud.

He sighed. She was like a wild creature; there was no taming her. He didn’t want to tame her, he just wanted to be with her for ever, to love her, to cherish her, to make her smile at him so that the sun would perpetually shine on them both. It was nothing more than a dream, perhaps the entire thing had been a dream and Arian a figment of his imagination.

He lifted his head to look up at the sky, shadowed now as if in tune with his feelings. ‘Arian, I love you.’ His voice was carried away by the breeze and it didn’t matter. He was the only one to hear it.

‘Did you enjoy your ride?’ Fon was busy over the black-doored oven. ‘Hope you brought our poor horse back safely.’ Her face flushed with the heat, she glanced at Arian and then looked away again.

‘If I didn’t know different, I’d say you’ve just been with a lover.’ Her words were soft, with no hint of censure and Arian smiled.

‘Good thing you know different then.’ She moved out to the yard, divested herself of her clothes and stood close to the pump, sluicing cold water over her body. She returned into the kitchen naked and stood for a moment looking at Fon.

‘Can I borrow some of your clothes?’ She smiled at Fon’s raised eyebrows.

‘I think you better had and quick about it,’ Fon said. ‘I don’t want my husband seeing you like that. It would be too much of a temptation, even for Jamie.’

‘I don’t believe that.’ Arian hurried upstairs and took a faded blue skirt and a white calico bodice out of the drawer. She felt clean and fresh and her hair hung damp and curling to her waist as she looked at herself in the mirror.

What sort of woman was she? She put her head on one side. A young, healthy woman with healthy desires, she told herself. So what, if she didn’t live by the rules that others held so dear? What if she had decided to give herself to Calvin one last time before she went out of his life for ever? It wasn’t much to ask, was it?

She ran lightly down the stairs and returned to the kitchen. ‘Where are the children?’ she asked and Fon grimaced.

‘I persuaded Jamie to take the little ones with him up to the top field. April is seeing to the cows, a real help she is these days.’ For a moment, Fon’s eyes were clouded. ‘I’ll never forget Patrick and neither will Jamie but God’s been kind to us, there’s another baby on the way.’

Arian moved towards Fon and embraced her. ‘I’m so happy for you, Fon, I know you’ve had your troubles but you have such a lot to be thankful for. Sorry for the sermon. I’m going now,’ she said. ‘Wish me luck on my adventure on the high seas, won’t you?’

‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ Fon asked, hands on hips like a mother. ‘Because if you ask me, you’re having your doubts about all this.’

‘Sure enough that I want to get away from Swansea, for a while at least. Perhaps when I come back I’ll have sorted myself out. Perhaps then I might even know exactly what I want to do with my life.’

Fon shook her head. ‘I don’t understand you, Arian. You’re like a wild spirit, as changeable as the breezes that blow in from the sea.’

‘I agree with you. It’s doing me the world of good too, better than being stuck in a rut, vegetating as the wife of a man I could never love.’

‘But there are other ways out of all this. You could still settle down, live here on the farm or go back to shoe-making.’

Arian shook her head. ‘No, I’m a failure at that sort of business and I might as well accept it. I must shake the dust of Swansea from my feet for a little while at least.’ She kissed Fon’s cheek warmly. ‘See you when I get back, it’s a promise. And Fon, thanks for everything.’

‘There’s daft you talk!’ Fon said pushing her away in mock anger. ‘I haven’t done anything at all. Now take care of yourself, right?’

‘You take care, too, old mother hen.’

She left Honey’s Farm without looking back and moved quickly over the familiar, beloved hills to where the farmlands sloped downwards to meet the outskirts of the town. The streets were quiet now, the traffic a mere trickle of vans homeward bound, horses eager now for food and rest and one or two cabs touting for late business.

Arian looked around her at the shop fronts and the doorways, innocent now of the merchandise that usually adorned them and for a moment she wondered if she was indeed being foolhardy and impetuous, throwing aside all she knew for a life of uncertainty.

But then life was full of risks, and anything was better than a life filled with Gerald Simples’s shadow. She had been grateful to Jono and, in a way, to Bridie for their kindness, but she had begun to feel stultified in the small village of Clydach, smothered by Jono’s obvious adoration and tired of Bridie’s insistence that she find an occupation worthy of her talents.