Arian

by Iris Gower

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Fon O’Conner set the table for her visitors with a strange premonition that nothing was as it seemed. She’d been pleased when she’d heard from Arian – pleased, if rather surprised, to know that she was married. Her husband, Fon assumed, was a man of means. He’d set up a business in Arian’s name so he must be generous and very much in love with her.

  Fon paused, her hand resting absently on the cutlery, straightening a fork without really seeing it. The feeling persisted that something was awry in Arian’s life. She knew Arian well enough to read between the lines of the carefully phrased letter, which was brief, explanatory in a practical way but there was no mention in it of love or happiness.

  It was quiet in the kitchen, the children were in bed and the silence that settled like a mantle around Fon was refreshing in its rarity. Well, Arian would be here soon, and then Fon would know a little more.

  She put her best plates on the pristine cloth and stood back to admire the table that she had made bright and welcoming. She was proud of the sparkling china and polished cutlery. It was her way of supporting Arian, making a good impression on that new husband of hers.

  She heard footsteps outside and looked up with a smile as Jamie entered the room. He kissed her upturned mouth and held her close for a moment before sniffing appreciatively.

  ‘Something smells good.’ He took in the neat kitchen and well-laid table at a glance. ‘Sure and it’s a lot of trouble you’re going to, colleen, trying to impress Arian, is it?’

  ‘Duw, there’s soft you are.’ Fon smiled up at her husband, loving him more now than she did when she’d married him. ‘I don’t have to worry about Arian, she’s like a sister to me, you know that.’

  ‘Then it’s the husband you’ll be out to please, is that it?’ He put his arm around her waist. ‘I won’t have you making eyes at any man but me, remember.’

  ‘Shut up.’ Fon pushed him away playfully. ‘Fat chance I’d have of looking at anyone else with you around. A bossy, domineering man you are, mind.’

  He drew her closer and kissed her mouth. ‘Well, I can say the same about you. Boss me something terrible, make my life a misery with your nagging. Still an’ all, you’re not a bad wife, sure I’ll grant you that.’

  Fon put her hands on her hips. ‘Kind of you to throw in a good word.’

  ‘Don’t get uppity, though.’ Jamie touched her mouth with his fingertip. ‘There’s a little too much of the lip from you on times, but I’ll forgive you, cos you’re not slow when it comes to caring for your man.’

  ‘Fine to have such watery compliments from a man who’s supposed to love his wife to distraction.’ Fon shook back a stray lock of hair. ‘Can’t you think of any sweet words to whisper to me, Jamie?’

  ‘Well, I don’t have to put anything into words, not with you, colleen. You know when you’re well off. Won’t get a better husband than me this side of the Irish sea, not if you looked from now till doomsday.’

  ‘Well, I’ve got no intention of looking anywhere, so hush your nonsense and help me put the food on the table. Arian will be here at any minute now.’

  ‘There you go, bossing me again. Sometimes I think it’s a good hiding you need, my girl. Comes to something when a man can’t so much as be master in his own house.’

  Fon rested her hand on her stomach. ‘Not master, eh? Then how come you filled me with child again so quickly after the last one?’ Happiness flared through her, a son she’d given him this time, a brother to Cathie.

  ‘Keep a woman well filled and poor shod and she’ll never leave you, that’s what they say.’ Jamie moved to the pantry and brought out a crispy loaf of bread.

  Fon dreamed for a moment, watching him deftly cut thin slices from the loaf. She was enjoying the moment of intimacy between them, the banter, the carefree affection they shared. These moments were becoming all too few.

  The house was becoming full of children, fine and healthy they were too. Patrick was the big boy now. He was not her own son but she loved him as dearly as if she’d given birth to him. And April, well April was sometimes a thorn in the flesh, not an O’Conner at all but trusted to Fon’s care, but was a dear child in spite of her tantrums. April, however difficult she could be, was part of the household.

  ‘We’ll have to build on to the farmhouse if this continues,’ she said softly.

  Jamie put down the bread knife and took her into his arms, holding her close, his chin against the softness of her hair. ‘If you mean us having babies then building on is imperative. I have no intention of refraining from making love to you.’ He tipped her face up to his. ‘And if the result of that is you giving me fine sons and daughters, then I’m happy.’

  Fon closed her eyes and pressed her head against Jamie’s chest, listening to the strong throb of his heart. She was so lucky that sometimes she was afraid something might happen to take all her joy away from her.

  The gate at the end of the path clicked open and, reluctantly, Fon moved out of Jamie’s arms, patted down her apron and brushed back her hair.

  ‘They’re here,’ she said. ‘Now Jamie, be on your best behaviour, mind.’

  Arian looked well, even to Fon’s critical eye. She was neatly dressed, her skin shone and her hair was as if alight with silver and gold. What a contrast, Fon thought, to the girl who used to wander barefoot in rags around the countryside.

  ‘Come here.’ She hugged Arian and kissed her cheek and then stood back shyly to be introduced to Arian’s husband.

  Gerald Simples was handsome, there was no denying that. His manner was charming, open and friendly as he shook hands with first herself and then with Jamie, and yet Fon had her reservations – he was, perhaps a little too charming.

  It seemed, however, that the two men had a great deal in common. Gerald Simples was knowledgeable about the land, asking all the right questions, interspersing intelligent comments whenever there was a silence.

  In the flurry of serving the cawl, then the rich potato and beef roast Fon was not able to catch much of the conversation that flowed around the table but she was, covertly, able to study Arian closely. There was a droop about her mouth, a lack of light in her eyes that confirmed Fon’s feeling that Arian was not happy. But later, when the men took a turn in the garden in order to smoke, she and Arian would be able to talk. Then she might learn the truth about the sudden marriage.

  ‘So, tell me all about your business venture. I’m dying to hear what exactly you’re doing.’ Fon took her seat after serving a pudding of milk, rice and honey, glad that the meal had been a success, and happy that her obligations were over because now she could concentrate her attention on Arian. ‘Something to do with leather, I expect.’

  It was Gerald Simples who replied. ‘My wife had this wonderful idea …’ He sounded as enthusiastic as a man in love with his wife should be and Fon wondered if she was misjudging him. ‘She has produced a catalogue – it’s brilliantly written. Arian really has a gift for words.’ He paused to smile at his wife. ‘Our distribution covers the entire Swansea area and some of the outlying villages advertising Arian’s own brand of boots and shoes.’

  He smiled proudly. His gaze, meeting Fon’s, was open and enthusiastic and she felt herself warm to him.

  ‘So what you do is to take orders and then make bespoke shoes to any size, is that it?’

  ‘That’s right but it’s not all,’ Arian said quickly. ‘The customers are given time to pay, six weeks in all.’ Her excitement with the scheme shone in her eyes. ‘This gives the poorer families time to get the money together. That people with a few children are taking up the offer is not surprising but, happily, we’re also getting business from the rich.’ She made a wry face, ‘They like to hold on to their money as long as possible.’

  ‘My wife is an astute business woman, you see, as well as being an industrious worker.’ Gerald looked at his wife but Fon couldn’t help noticing Arian was avoiding direct contact with him, even going so far as to ignore him.r />
  ‘The idea seems to be working well but we need a bit more time yet to really get the scheme launched.’ Arian’s tone was brisk as though she’d talked enough about her business. She sat back in her chair, her hands resting on her lap like a prim child at a party.

  ‘That was a lovely meal, Fon. No wonder your husband looks so well. My compliments to you, you can cook for me any time.’

  Fon rose to her feet. ‘You men can move to the garden if you want to smoke.’ She began to clear the dishes from the table and stacked them in an enamel bowl.

  The men wandered outside, their voices muted on the evening air. Arian made a move towards the dishes but Fon shook her head.

  ‘I’ll do those later when I’ve boiled up plenty of hot water.’ She swept up the cloth and folded it away in the drawer and then, as there was nothing left to occupy her hands, she turned to face Arian.

  ‘Right now,’ she said, ‘there’s no-one here but me and you. Are you happy? That’s what I want to know.’

  ‘Happy enough,’ Arian said and it was clear she was reluctant to be drawn.

  ‘But you don’t love your husband.’ It was not a question, it was something that Fon knew instinctively.

  ‘No, I don’t love Gerald. I even left him once but he fetched me home again.’ She shrugged. ‘I can’t say in the end that I was unwilling, in a way I was ready to come home I couldn’t go on living the way I was. I was smothering, vegetating up in Clydach.’

  ‘And do you share anything with him?’ Fon was concerned. ‘I don’t mean to pry but you look so lost.’

  Arian didn’t dissemble. ‘Oh, I sleep in his bed but there is no joy and no love in it.’

  Fon reached out and took her hand. ‘Come on, sit down by the fire with me. Look love, you were ill treated by one man and it’ll take some time to get over it but it doesn’t mean they are all beasts. Gerald seems good to you. He really cares about you, I can tell, and love might grow if you give it time.’

  ‘Our marriage is only a bargain,’ Arian said flatly. ‘Gerald wants me, so he pays for me to live comfortably and is financing my business.’ She smiled wryly. ‘You see, I’m no better than the whore some folk have always believed me to be.’

  ‘Rubbish! You’re no whore. You have respectability, the chance to make something of yourself, don’t decry it.’ She paused. ‘Many women do not like their husbands to … to possess them, it is no strange thing in a marriage but women endure it for many reasons.’

  ‘You do not like Jamie to make love to you?’ Arian looked her full in the face and Fon smiled.

  ‘I’m in love with Jamie, he is my darling. I enjoy him in every way but then I am lucky, there are many who are not so lucky.’

  ‘Well, in any case,’ Arian said, ‘the pact is made. I’m Gerald’s wife, he takes me whenever he wishes. In return, he looks after me. I suppose I should count my blessings.’ She sighed and looked down at her hands. ‘One thing I’ve realized is that I don’t want children.’ She looked up beseechingly. ‘Is there a way I can prevent it?’

  Fon laughed out loud. ‘Me who catches whenever Jamie comes near and you’re asking me that. Look, my love, you know how afraid I was but it’s the most wonderful thing in the world, to be a mother. You’ll see when the time comes, trust me.’

  ‘I don’t want a baby.’ Arian repeated. ‘I don’t want Gerald’s child growing inside me, I can’t bear the thought of it.’

  ‘You will glory in it when it happens. A son or daughter would be a great comfort to you.’

  ‘No.’ Arian shook her head stubbornly. ‘I don’t want a child and I don’t intend to have one, understand me?’

  Fon put her hand over her mouth and stared at Arian’s white face. Icy fingers of superstition crawled along her spine and suddenly Fon felt frightened, as though Arian’s words could somehow bring harm to her own babies.

  ‘Don’t talk like that, please, Arian. It’s not natural, it’s not right.’

  ‘Damn what’s right!’ Arian rose to her feet and moved to the window, her shoulders were heaving. She stood for a moment in silence and then suddenly she seemed calm. ‘Perhaps we should have a nice hot cup of tea. We’ll forget all I’ve said. I shouldn’t talk like that, not to you.’ She smiled and Fon, eager to do something for her, hurriedly rose and pushed the kettle onto the flames.

  Arian wandered over to the dresser and picked up one of the books. It was only when Fon brought the steaming teapot to the table that she saw what Arian had been reading.

  ‘Don’t take any notice of that old herbal.’ She felt a sense of panic. ‘Old wives’ tales, those are. They tell you how to prevent a baby and how to slip one, nonsense it is.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Arian took the cup of tea and silently began to drink it. She had become remote, untouchable and Fon felt she didn’t know her any more.

  The men returned to the kitchen and the talk became general. Arian joined in the conversation but her brightness was forced, her mind obviously elsewhere. It was a relief when Gerald Simples decided it was time to leave for home.

  Obediently, Arian rose and kissed Fon’s cheek in a perfunctory gesture before allowing her husband to help her with her coat.

  ‘We’ll see you again soon?’ Fon asked but even though Arian nodded her agreement, Fon didn’t believe she meant it. She frowned as the couple moved arm in arm down the pathway towards the road.

  ‘They look happy enough,’ Jamie said, his hand warm on Fon’s shoulder.

  ‘Aye,’ Fon sighed, ‘but then, not everything is what it seems, is it, Jamie lad?’

  He turned her into his arms and kissed her mouth. ‘Hush, colleen.’ He kissed her again. ‘You can’t carry the cares of the world on your shoulders, haven’t you learned that much yet?’

  ‘I know.’ She put her arm around his waist as, together, they returned to the brightness of their house and closed the door on the world.

  ‘I have five more orders,’ Arian said easily. ‘Firm orders at that and some of them from previous customers.’

  Gerald was seated at his desk, his shirt collar immaculate, his waistcoat pristine in its cut and style. He had found work with another rich client and Arian sometimes wondered quite how crooked Gerald’s business was.

  His investments seemed to bring in results, it was true, both for himself and for his employer and perhaps, she mused, he had simply been unlucky in the past, unlucky and perhaps a little careless.

  Gerald looked over his shoulder. ‘Very good,’ he said but it was clear he was not really listening.

  Arian left her own desk in the improvised office and moved to the kitchen at the back of the house. She wrinkled up her nose in disgust at the smell of the roots of fenwort boiling on the hob.

  She looked down into the small pot resting on the fire. If the herbal was correct, the infusion of roots would make her miscarry. She rubbed at her eyes. Her courses were late, two weeks late and if she should be with child she would go mad. In any case, she intended to take no risks – she would drink the vile concoction if it killed her.

  Resentment against Gerald Simples filled her. He had taken her life, altered it out of all recognition, shaping it to suit himself. Why, she asked herself, had she allowed him to do it?

  ‘What on earth is that smell?’ Gerald had entered the kitchen and was standing behind her. Arian glanced back at him almost with hostility.

  ‘Herbs,’ she said tersely. ‘Medication for women’s problems, don’t worry about it.’

  He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘Arian,’ he sounded concerned, ‘what’s wrong?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’ She sought desperately in her mind for an excuse, some words which would appease him. ‘It’s just my monthly pains, that’s all. The herbs ease things of that sort.’

  He tipped her face up and studied her carefully. He slid his hands down from her shoulders to her waist and then over her hips and stomach.

  ‘Are you going to have my child? Tell me t
he truth, Arian. I have the right to know.’

  She shook her head. Suddenly her heart was beating too fast, she felt she would choke. She tried to twist away from him but he held her.

  ‘Speak to me, Arian. Answer me. Are you expecting my child or not?’

  ‘I don’t know, not for sure,’ she said at last. ‘I’m a little late in my courses, that’s all. It could mean nothing.’

  He released her and moved away from her, his eyes unreadable. ‘You weren’t going to tell me,’ he said, ‘because you don’t want to carry my baby. You are planning to take this’ – he gestured towards the pot on the fire – ‘this herbal stuff in order to miscarry. I can read the truth in your face.’

  Arian sank down into a chair, her legs trembling as if with the ague. ‘It’s the wrong time,’ she said in a low voice. ‘We are not in love, Gerald. We are married because you want to possess me; you can’t want children under such circumstances.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what I want.’ His voice was cold, hard. ‘Do you know what you were about to do?’ He continued speaking without waiting for her to reply. ‘You were going to murder our child.’

  She flinched as if he’d struck her. ‘No …’ she held up her hand as though to ward off a blow. ‘I’m not going to have a baby, it’s just a precaution, that’s all. I never thought of it as anything else.’

  ‘Well think of it now.’ He moved to the door. ‘Think clearly, Arian, with your head and brain, if not with your heart. You could do untold harm to yourself, has that occurred to you?’

  She put her head in her hands. He was right; she was a cold unnatural monster.

  Gerald stared at her for a moment. ‘Oh, do what you will,’ he said at last. ‘I won’t stop you.’ The door slammed and he was gone. She was alone in the steamy kitchen with the herbs bubbling like poison in the black pot on the fire.

  Arian cried until she was exhausted. Then she rose to her feet and taking up a cloth, removed the pot from the flames. She carried it outside and poured the greeny contents onto the ground. The mixture bubbled its way into the soil, sinking at last out of sight, leaving only a residue of scum to show where it had been. Then she went to the pump and ran the water over her hot cheeks and swollen eyes so that her salt tears were cleansed.