Well, she certainly seems to be meeting some of Grahams needs without any problems ! Anna thought angrily. She knew she couldnt discuss Christine rationally, not with the scene in the library so fresh in her memory.
"I dont know what Im saying any longer," Anna said wearily. "I think I just need to get some rest. Im going to say goodnight to Graham and head upstairs."
She found Graham and Christine just rising from the table upon her return. Before she could say her goodnights, Christine spoke, seemingly oblivious to Annas presence.
"Why dont you play something for me, darling?" she asked, grasping Grahams hand.
Graham could have been carved from marble, she was so still. Slowly, she disengaged Christines fingers from hers, moving Christines hand to the crook of her arm. When she spoke, her voice was carefully neutral. "I think not. I need to work."
"Surely youre not going to work tonight!!" Christine protested, her cheeks flushed with ire.
"Yes," Graham replied with finality.
For an instant Anna thought Christine was about to argue, but the other woman quickly relented.
"All right, if you must. But do promise me youll breakfast with me!"
Graham nodded. "Of course. Now let me show you to your room." As she led Christine from the room, she said softly, "Goodnight, Anna."
**********
For Anna it was anything but a good night. She tried to read, but she couldnt concentrate. She dozed off in her chair, only to be awakened by a noise in the hall. She knew Grahams step by now. The person passing by her door toward the master suite was not Graham Yardley.
There was no doubt, of course, about what she had witnessed earlier in the library. It was clear from what Helen had said and from what she herself had witnessed, that Graham and Christine had been lovers before their accident. It seemed apparent that they were about to resume that relationship now. Graham obviously had never stopped loving Christinethat was the real reason she had secluded herself for so many long and lonely years.
Anna wasnt disturbed by the physical nature of their relationship, but she was stunned by her own response to that kiss. She couldnt bear to think of Graham making love to Christine. That reaction was something she had no reference for, and she was at a loss as to how to cope. She told herself she should be happy that Graham had a chance at happiness, but what she felt instead was a deep sense of loss. Annas emotions were in turmoil. One thing she knew for certainshe could not face them together in the morning!
After a fitful few hours of tossing and turning, she rose just before dawn, dressed by the last of the moonlight, and went out for a walk. Unconsciously she followed the path Graham took each morning down the steep slope to the edge of the cliff. She stood where she had seen Graham stand. Anna closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it was that drew Graham to this lonely precipice. After a moment, she thought she knew. Waves crashed below with a deafening roar, sending needles of spray hundreds of feet up the cliff. The air was so sharp it stung her skin. The wind blew harder here, fresh from over the water, carrying the rich scent of sea life. It was much colder there as well. This would be the first place at Yardley where the morning sun would fall. Condensed in this one spot, in the dark just before dawn, ones senses were so assaulted, you did not need to see to know the essence of the world around you. For a brief instant each day, on the edge of this cliff, Graham Yardley was not blind.
Anna leaned against the crumbling stone wall that rimmed the cliff and cried. She cried for Graham, for all she had been, and all she had lost. She cried for herself, because she loved her, and would never know her. She cried for the years she had spent not knowing herself, only to discover too late what form her love truly took. As she cried the harsh wind dried her tears. When the first faint wisps of summer sunlight flickered across her cheeks, she opened her eyes to a day that dawned clearer, and lonelier, than any she had ever known. She sat on a worn weathered bench to watch the sunrise, and thats where Graham found her.
"Anna?" came the deep voice she could never mistake for another's.
Anna looked up to find Graham beside her, in the same clothes she had worn to dinner, rumpled and exhausted.
"How do you always know?" she asked quietly.
Graham smiled faintly. "The air moves differently when youre near."
"You should have been a poet, not a pianist," Anna breathed around the tears that threatened again. "Although maybe there isnt any difference. Please, sit down."
Graham acquiesced, stretching her long legs out before her, leaning back with a sigh. Her hand lightly grazed Annas shoulder where she rested it along the top of the bench.
"How is your work coming?" Anna asked, unsettled by Grahams nearness, but loath to move away.
Graham shrugged tiredly. "I wish I knew. Im trying only to capture the essence of what Im hearing. I dont dare analyze it yet. Im afraid to discover it is trash."
"Have you slept?"
"Ah, Anna - always so concerned. Why do you care?" she asked not unkindly. Annas caring confounded her. Many people in her life had professed to care about her, but only Helen remained, and she had loved Graham all her life. Why a stranger should extend kindness now, when she was bereft of all her talents, she could not comprehend.
"Because I -" Anna hesitated over words she was not prepared to face. "Because you deserve to be cared about Graham. And youre avoiding my question. Did you sleep?"
"As much as one can in one of those godforsaken chairs from the last century," Graham admitted. "Anna," she continued with a weary sigh, "tell me about something you love. Tell me about something beyond my view."
As Anna spoke, Grahams tension ebbed, and her breathing grew quiet and deep. Anna told of her favorite cities, the movies that made her cry, and the books she had read a dozen times. She talked of her family, and her friends, and her dreams. She talked long after she thought Graham was asleep, because she wanted to keep her near, because it pleased her to imagine that some part of Graham heard her secrets. When at last she fell silent, the day was fully born.
"So," Graham murmured, to Annas surprise awake after all, "You love New York City, French movies with subtitles, wild flowers, and - what else?"
I love you , she answered from her soul. "Yardley -" Anna whispered with an ache in her heart, "I love Yardley."
"Yes," Graham uttered as she pushed herself upright. "I can tell that you do." She frowned as she turned her gaze toward the old house. "Is it seven-thirty yet?"
"Seven-twenty," Anna confirmed.
"I must say good bye then. I have a breakfast engagement."
Anna spoke without thinking. "Surely Christine will understand if you get some sleep! Youve been up all night!"
"Im afraid that Christine never had any patience when my work disrupted her plans," Graham remarked calmly. "Im sure thats one thing that hasnt changed."
She leaned to brush her hand along Annas shoulder. "Thank you for these moments of peace, Anna. Ill see you at dinner."
With that she was gone, and Anna was left with an empty day looming ahead.
**********
When Anna returned from running errands, grateful for any mindless task to divert her thoughts from Graham, she was unreasonably glad to see that Christines jaguar was no longer parked in the drive. Just the sight of it was unsettling. Instead, the familiar truck bearing the logo Womenworks was parked in its place. Daphne Herrald and her two-woman crew were the landscapers she had hired for the heavy clearing and hauling that needed to be done. She not only liked their work, she liked the women. They were working full-time at Yardley now, and Anna planned on keeping them on part-time after the summer. They were fast, efficient and friendly. And most importantly, they seemed to appreciate Grahams special circumstances. It was impossible to tell when Graham might take it upon herself to stroll down one of the many garden paths, or decide that she wanted something from the kitchen garden. After Grahams mishaps with her own carelessness, and the near disaster with the painter, Anna was always worri
ed. Without Anna watching over them, these women were meticulous with their tools and careful to clean up after themselves.
Anna noticed Graham and Daphne deep in conversation as she rounded the corner from the drive. Graham, leaning one hip against the balustrade in her familiar stance, hands in pockets, smiled down at Daphne who stood several steps below her on the walk. Daphne looked tanned, fit, and if the expression on her face was any indication, quite taken with the master of Yardley Manor. Daphne and the women on her crew made it no secret that they were lesbians, and it certainly hadnt mattered one way or the other to Annauntil now. If Daphne wasnt looking at Graham with something very close to lust in her eyes, Anna was sadly mistaken.
The low-pitched murmur of Grahams sonorous voice reached her, and as always, Anna was stirred by it. Seeing Graham and Daphne together, as innocent as it surely was, made Anna realize how much Grahams physical presence affected her. She had thought her strikingly handsome from the first night they met. She found herself captivated by the delicacy and sinewy strength of Grahams hands as she sketched a phrase in the air. The wind blowing Grahams hair into disarray always left Anna wanting to brush the locks off her forehead. And she could scarcely look into Graham's fathomless dark eyes without feeling something twist deep within her.
She nearly gasped as all the images which were Graham cascaded through herand left her unmistakably wanting her. In that instant, she understood fully her aversion to Christine. It was knowing that Graham had once loved herperhaps did stilland the fact that Graham touched her with love. Anger raged within her when she thought of Graham wasting her precious passion on someone who did not cherish it - on someone who had abandoned her when Grahams need was greatest. Anna understood with sudden startling clarity exactly what she wantedGrahams passion, in all its forms, for herself. The insight was so undeniable that it left her staggered. She couldnt question her desire, her body ached with it.
She turned away from the women in the garden. Her reaction to the sight of Daphne and Graham together followed too closely on the heels of Christines arrival. She seemed to be assaulted at every turn with her longing for Graham, and the impossibility of her desire. Foolishly, she had allowed herself to believe that Graham felt something of the connection she herself could not deny each time she saw her, or heard her step in the hall, or her music in the air. She should have known that for a woman of Grahams intensity and unrelenting passion, her love for Christine would be inextinguishable.
Anna fled into the house, desperately trying to escape her own heart. She stood unpacking groceries, her mind strangely blank when a short rap on the door interrupted her.
"Hey!" Daphne said as she pushed open the door. "I thought I saw you drive upcan I talk to you a sec?"
Anna nodded distractedly. "Sure."
"Youre getting a lot of soil erosion on the edges of the paths -- especially on the back slopes. What do you think about putting in some ground cover along there? Its labor intensive to do the planting, but in the end it will preserve the area," Daphne stated. She looked at Anna curiously when she didnt answer. "Anna? You okay?"
Anna forced herself to focus. "Yes, sureground cover? I had noticed thatbut theres so much around here that needs attention, it just slipped my mind. Did you speak to Graham?"
Daphne looked surprised. "No, why would I? You hired me. You make the decisions."
"I just thoughtI saw you talking to Graham when I came home" her voice trailed off uncertainly. God, she was a mess!
"Oh, that was just small talk. I ran into her out back, she asked me how things were going. Shes always so charming , you know? Every woman in my crew has a crush on her!" she said with a laugh.
"Including you?" Anna asked, trying to match Daphnes light tone.
Daphne studied Anna carefully. She looked shaken and pale. "Oh hellis that what youre thinking? I have a lover Im nuts about, and weve got two great kids. Graham is fascinating, not to mention gorgeous, and I do think shes incredibly attractivebut looking is as far it goes with me."
Anna busied herself with unpacking, avoiding Daphnes intense gaze. "Its none of my business anyway. I didnt mean to put you on the spot."
"I assumed you two were lovers," Daphne said, a question in her voice.
"No," Anna whispered almost to herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Daphne. "Why did you think that?"
"I could be on dangerous ground here - lots of room to offend if Im wrong." Daphne shrugged, flashing her trademark grin. "But what the hell. After twenty years of seeing women in all stages of togetherness, you get a sense for it. Its the way you are around each other. Your face lights up whenever she appears. Your eyes follow her whenever shes in sight. I know damn well it kills you every time she heads down that goddamned slope to the cliff. I can tell you stop breathing. It takes more guts than Ive got to watch her do that without screaming."
"Graham doesnt leave you any choice," Anna murmured, "she doesnt know how to be anything but proud."
Daphne nodded. "Ive never met anyone like her. She listens for you, you know. In the middle of our conversation just now I saw her smile, and her whole body relaxed just a little. Ten seconds later I heard your jeep. Shed been listening for you to come home. She knows how to find you when youre in the garden. She walks right to you. How does she do that?"
"I dont know," Anna sighed. "I dont think I know anything about anything anymore."
Daphne considered letting it go, but Anna looked so miserable. Graham had seemed pretty frayed too. "First time youve ever been in love with a woman?" she asked kindly.
Hearing it put so matter of factly gave her pause. "Ive never been in love before," she said after a moment, knowing it was true.
"Sometimes," Daphne continued cautiously, "its just a false alarm."
Anna met Daphnes gaze steadily, a muscle tightening in her jaw. "No."
Daphne could tell she meant it. And something was really wrong. Annas usually clear blue eyes were clouded with pain, her face was drawn and tired, and she looked on the verge of breaking into tears.
"Does she know how you feel about her?"
Anna studied her hands, her cheeks coloring. "Its not that simple. Graham is - complicated. She was horribly hurt." She took a deep breath, smiling tremulously. "I dont think Graham gives me much thought."
"This is serious, isnt it?" Daphne asked softly.
"Yes."
"I wish I could help" Daphne began.
Anna appreciated her sympathy, but she interrupted her with a shake of her head. Even before Christines arrival, Anna noticed a reticence in the way Graham treated her. She was always welcoming and seemed to enjoy Annas companybut still there was the distance. Just when Anna thought Graham was becoming more comfortable with her, something would cause her to withdraw. Anna was never sure what she had said, or what painful memory she had triggered. Often Annas encounters with Graham left her unsettled, and she was slowly becoming aware of an inner void that seemed to deepen each day. With Christine here now, and Grahams apparent attachment to her, there seemed to be little room for Anna in Grahams life. She smiled at Daphne ruefully.
"The only one who can help is Graham."
Chapter Twelve
In the days that followed Anna saw little of Graham. She kept to her usual routine, spending time with Helen in the morning, working on the grounds in the afternoon. Graham had not sent for her, and Anna did not seek her out. She saw Graham and Christine together often as they walked about the grounds, or sat together on the terrace in the afternoons. Graham spent every evening, if not the entire night, alone in her study.
Aside from the times Graham denied Christine entry to the music room, Christine was never far from Grahams side, and her possessive attitude was intolerable for Anna. Anna tried her best to be polite, but the sight of them together, Christine constantly touching Graham in some way, made her irrationally angry. And that made her even more short-tempered. After all, it was none of her concern if Graham Yardley behaved like a fool around that woman!
She began to wonder how much more she could endure. She tried to avoid them as much as possible, even taking her meals with Helen in the late afternoon, offering excuses as to why she couldnt be present for the now routine dinner gatherings.
The worst parts of her day were the evenings. Although she usually worked until she was physically exhausted, she didnt seem able to sleep. Once it had been a comfort to retire to her rooms, and fall asleep with a book open on her lap. Now even that consolation eluded her. Every time someone passed in the hall she couldnt help thinking it was Christine, on her way to the master suite at the opposite end of the hall. Rationally, she knew there were any number of reasons Helen, or Christine, or Graham herself might pass in the hall, but she was anything but rational. She was driving herself crazy imaging Christine in Grahams bed!
She threw down the book she had been trying to read for three nights in a row and snatched her denim jacket from the coat rack by her door. Despite the warm early summer days, evenings by the sea were still cool. She needed to walk off her anxiety and deepening sense of despair. Unconsciously, she took the meandering path through the lower slopes of the back property, skirting along the sea wall. Yardley stood several hundred yards uphill, and with its lights flickering through the trees, it cast a magical shape against the darkening sky. As if to accompany that otherworldly aura, Anna caught the strains of a wistful melody floating in the air. She began the steep climb up the wildly overgrown track toward the source. The terrace doors stood open to the darkness of the night, which blended into the blackness inside the music room. Graham was alone, playing.
Anna leaned against the balustrade on the far side of the terrace, listening, straining for some glimpse of the woman in the shadows. The melancholy tenor of the music seemed to echo her own internal anguish. She made no effort to stop the tears. She had no idea how long she stood there, joined with Graham in some unnamed longing, when a voice quite near startled her from her reverie.
Radclyffe - Love's Melody Lost Page 9
