by Anne Weale
At first Kim had made a point of discreetly absenting herself from their part of the house in the evening. But as time went on she spent more and more time in their company, perhaps at Roderick’s invitation as the two of them never seemed to tire of talking shop.
Most of the time Flower put up with this without comment. But sometimes, at the end of a tiring day when she longed for a quiet evening alone with no one but Roderick there, it was hard to endure Kim’s presence.
One evening, when Kim had finally taken herself off to bed, she was driven to say, ‘I wonder if there’s something Kim dislikes about her own sitting-room. She doesn’t seem to make much use of it.’
She had tried not to sound sarcastic but evidently hadn’t succeeded.
Roderick gave her one of his keen looks. ‘She can’t bear to be on her own. It’s a phase most widows go through. Bear with her, Flower. She’s had a tough break.’
‘I know... and I’m very sorry for her.’
But I want to be alone with you sometimes, was her silent rider. Oh, Roderick, what’s happening to us? We’re growing further apart, not closer.
That night, for the first time, he did not make love to her. Not because he was tired. When she had finished in the bathroom she found him reading a thriller by a highly praised crime-writer.
Flower climbed into the high four-poster built to accommodate the long legs of one of his equally tall forebears. It was so high off the ground that, on her side, a step was necessary.
Her arrival did not disturb him, for the bed was as wide as it was long, requiring specially made sheets and an emperor-sized duvet.
There were always books on Flower’s night-table and a stack of glossy magazines, although since her marriage she had done little reading in bed. She picked up a copy of House Beautiful, an American decorating monthly recommended by Kim and on sale in London.
But, although she had flipped through it quickly and knew it was full of good ideas and attractive colour schemes, none of the articles in it grabbed her attention. Not because they weren’t interesting but because it was the first time she had come to bed and not found Roderick waiting to make love.
She had realised that it had had to come, this night when he preferred to read rather than to caress her. But surely, if he had been beginning to care for her, he would have glanced up from his thriller and smiled at her? Or reached for her hand and held it till he needed to turn a page? Or shifted sideways until their arms were touching?
Presently Roderick yawned, put a marker in his book and turned out the light on his side of the canopied bed.
‘Goodnight.’ He lay down on his side, facing away from her.
‘Goodnight.’
She forced herself to read an article about the beautiful simple furniture and household goods made by the Shakers from the beginning of the nineteenth century until the American Civil War. But it was an effort to concentrate and she knew by tomorrow she would have forgotten most of it.
Her mind was too full of misery to grapple with anything but the fear that her marriage was already falling apart and it was not her but Kim who should be sharing Roderick’s bed.
The date when her next period was due went by without anything happening. Her bra began to feel slightly tight, and one night, when Roderick came into the bathroom while she was brushing her teeth and would have unwrapped the towel she was wearing sarong-fashion, he suddenly changed his mind and confined himself to a friendly pat on her bottom.
She would not have rebuffed him, but he must have sensed that she wasn’t in the mood, partly because her breasts felt swollen and tender. There was now no doubt in her mind that she was pregnant, but she felt that the news would keep.
The next symptom of her condition was a tendency to feel queasy. One morning, soon after she arrived at the works, she had to dash to her brother’s private wash-room.
Stephen saw her emerge. He said, ‘I recognise that pale-green look. Sharon had it when Matt was on the way. You’re preggers, aren’t you?’
Flower nodded. ‘But don’t tell Sharon yet. I haven’t told Roderick.’
She felt all right for the rest of the morning, but after lunch felt queasy again. There was no urgent work to be dealt with. In spite of her protests, Stephen insisted on running her home.
‘Tell Rod, then I can tell Shar. And ring up your medic to get it officially confirmed.’
His protective attitude touched her. She wondered how Roderick would react.
She found him in the office he shared with Kim. Later, when the alterations and new buildings were complete, they would have separate offices.
Instead of being at their desks, working, they were at the far end of the room by the window-seat, but not sitting on it, taking a coffee break. They were on their feet, locked in a close embrace, fused into a single silhouette against the bright light outside.
The American had her head pressed against Roderick’s shoulder, and his head was bowed over hers. Every line of their bodies expressed an intimate tenderness. No one, seeing them like this, caught unawares, could have doubted that they were lovers.
Flower wanted to turn away, to run, to escape the painful proof of what, deep down, she had feared since Kim’s arrival.
But she found herself unable to move, powerless to avert her eyes from the sight of the man she loved holding the woman he really wanted.
As she stared at them, all her hopes and dreams for the future crumbling into dust, Roderick lifted his head and turned his face towards her.
‘Flower... you’re back early.’
CHAPTER TEN
Roderick sounded surprised to see Flower, but not noticeably embarrassed.
It was Kim who was startled, whose head came away from his shoulder with a nervous jerk and who broke their embrace with a hasty step backwards.
Considering the turmoil inside her, Flower was amazed to hear herself say in a calm voice, ‘Perhaps it’s just as well.’
She closed the door behind her and walked towards them. A few moments ago her instinct had been to run, to put off the moment of truth. But already she knew there was no escape from this situation. It had to be confronted... now.
As she approached, Kim turned away and made some furtive movements, which Flower took to be an attempt to wipe off badly smudged lipstick.
But, if a few minutes earlier they had been exchanging passionate kisses, there were no traces of colour on or around Roderick’s lips. And he seemed as composed as if she had found them engaged in some mundane discussion to do with the clinic.
‘You look pale, Flower. Are you all right?’ he asked as she stopped about six feet away from him.
The question amazed her. How could she be all right with her marriage in ruins? Did he think that she wouldn’t care if they split up?
Before she could reply, Kim turned round. It was immediately obvious that she had been crying; not merely shedding a few tears, but weeping with an abandonment which had swollen her eyelids, reddened her nose and streaked her cheeks.
Roderick said, ‘Kim is going back to the US. Coming here hasn’t helped. She’s been trying to convince herself that it was a good idea, but this morning a letter from her mother made her unbearably homesick.’
Her eyes awash with fresh tears, Kim said in a quavery voice, ‘I don’t want to let Roderick down, but I have to go home. I should never have come in the first place. I’m sorry, Flower.’
Flower said nothing. Was it possible that she had completely misinterpreted the scene which had met her eyes when she’d opened the door?
It seemed that it was, for now Roderick was replacing his arm around Kim’s shoulders and, as she began to weep again, sending his wife a silent but unmistakable signal.
Plainly it meant: I need help here!
Her thoughts still in great confusion, she obeyed the deep-seated instinct to comfort someone in distress—even a woman towards whom, a few moments ago, she had felt strong hostility.
‘Come and sit down, Kim. Roderick, co
uld you organise some tea, please? I could do with a cup myself,’ she said, steering the American to the nearby window-seat.
‘Are you certain this bout of homesickness isn’t just a passing mood, Kim?’ she went on as he left the room.
The other girl made a strong effort to pull herself together. ‘It was a mistake to come. I see that now. I was running away... and you can’t run away from your deepest feelings. There’s no escape...no quick cure. I should have known that. Missing my family only makes it worse. You and Roderick have been wonderful to me, but I should never have inflicted myself on you. It was selfish to burden you with my unhappiness.’
It would have been hypocritical for Flower to deny that Kim’s presence had not been a burden. To her, if not to Roderick, it had been a constant shadow over her peace of mind.
She said, ‘You’ve been a great help to Roderick, in these early stages of getting the clinic organised, but they do say that it’s a mistake for people who’ve been bereaved to make any major changes in the way they live for at least a year or two. I did wonder if it was wise for you to uproot yourself, even to come and work with a close friend.’
‘It was crazy,’ Kim admitted. ‘My parents tried to dissuade me, but I wouldn’t listen.’
‘I’ll be honest with you,’ said Flower. ‘I thought, when you first arrived here and seemed upset that our marriage had been put forward, that you might have been hoping that Roderick would...would fill the void in your life.’
Kim flushed. ‘I—I did hope that for a while...before I came to England. I knew Roderick would never love me in the way George did, but I thought our work and our friendship would be enough to make it a workable partnership. And then somehow I had the idea that you weren’t in love with him... that you only wanted to be Lady Anstruther. But I didn’t realise my antipathy showed that clearly.’
‘Pretty clearly,’ Flower said drily.
‘I’m sorry, Flower. I was wrong about you. After you came back from your wedding trip I began to see I had been mistaken. But you British keep your deepest emotions so buttoned-up. It took me a while to grasp that Roderick was crazy about you and you felt the same about him.’
After a pause, Flower said carefully, ‘How did we give ourselves away?’
‘One day I said something about you... about your not having a career... which Roderick interpreted as a criticism. It was the first time he’d ever been angry with me. Later, when I’d explained that I hadn’t meant to sound critical, he told me about falling in love with you almost from the moment he met you. He said he knew right away...well, within a couple of hours... that you were the girl he’d been looking for.’
‘He did?’ Flower hoped she didn’t sound as astonished as she felt.
‘And then, as I got to know you better,’ Kim went on, ‘I began to see through your reserve, to recognise the signs that, although you were never demonstrative the way Americans are when they love someone, you weren’t really cold and standoffish. That was just a facade.’
‘It certainly was! I love Roderick with all my heart. It was love at first sight for me too,’ Flower admitted.
‘I’m glad,’ said Kim. ‘I really am. George and I always hoped that Roderick would find the kind of happiness we had...if only briefly,’ she added with a deep sigh.
‘You’ll find happiness again... one day,’ Flower said gently. ‘It may not be the same way you were happy before, but surely love is like...’ she paused, searching for an appropriate simile ‘... like music or art or any of life’s richest experiences? The important thing is to have the capacity to care for another person. I don’t think everyone does and that’s why marriages go wrong, because one or both partners can’t love, in the same way that some people lack an ear for music or an eye for beauty. But, if you know that you can love another person, then sooner or later there will be someone else for you.’
Kim nodded. ‘I guess so. But it’s hard to adjust to being alone when you’ve known what it is to be half of a pair. I’ll feel better when I’ve washed my face. I’ll be right back.’
When she had gone, Flower remained on the window-seat, coming to terms with the fact that Roderick had told Kim that he had fallen in love within hours of returning to the manor. Now what she longed to know was why he had never admitted it.
A few minutes later he returned. ‘Where’s Kim?’
‘Washing her face.’
He scrutinised Flower’s face before saying, ‘You look better than you did when you arrived. You looked like a ghost when you came in.’
‘I didn’t feel well this morning. In fact, I threw up my breakfast. I think I’m probably pregnant.’
He nodded. ‘That thought had crossed my mind. How do you feel about it?’
She said, ‘I’m not keen on the morning sickness, if that’s what it is, but apart from that I’m delighted. How else would I feel?’
‘You might not like the idea of gradually losing your figure...of being, as it were, taken over. When it comes to the point, women have all kinds of reactions.’
‘Well, yes... depending on their circumstances. But if they’re the loving wife of a loving husband, with no housing or financial problems, I should think most of them feel pleased. Or am I deluding myself that, even if you never actually say so, you have become rather fond of me?’
His eyes flashed with a light which was new to her. He reached out as if to take her by the shoulders. But at that point there was a discreet cough, and they turned to see John coming in with a tray of tea things.
Before he had set them out to his satisfaction, Kim returned.
As she poured out tea, drank it and slowly ate a plain biscuit, Flower was aware of Roderick’s suppressed impatience to continue the conversation the footman had interrupted.
Instead of which he was obliged to discuss Kim’s return to her homeland.
‘The sooner the better, I think, now that I’ve come to my senses ... unless you would like me to stay until you’ve found a replacement. But I shouldn’t think that will take long. There must be any number of British nutritionists who would jump at the chance to assist you,’ she said.
‘No, I don’t think that will be a problem.’
Kim didn’t seem to notice that his answer sounded distrait, but Flower did. Her cup of tea drunk, she said, ‘I’ll leave you two to get on while I go and have a chat with Dodo, if he isn’t napping. See you later.’
But before she was halfway along the corridor she heard the door open behind her and was commanded to wait.
She checked and half turned. ‘Yes?’
He came striding towards her. ‘I want to talk to you... privately... in our room.’
She had an impulse to tease him. ‘Can’t it wait till later?’
‘No, it can’t.’ He placed the flat of his hand against the small of her back and propelled her forward.
As they walked briskly through the house, heading for their bedroom, she began to feel more and more excited about what he would say and do when they got there.
The first thing he did was to turn the key in the lock, as if they had come upstairs to make love, although going to bed in the daytime had stopped when they’d come back from their honeymoon.
When she would have moved away to her dressing-table, he caught her by the wrist and swung her to face him.
‘A little while ago you accused me of never expressing my feelings for you,’ he said curtly.
‘It wasn’t an accusation, Roderick. Merely a statement of fact. Why has it made you angry?’
‘Because... because lately, dammit, you’ve been so offhand that I felt the last thing you wanted was any soul-baring from me.’
‘Offhand? How unfair! And untrue! I would have made love every night if you’d wanted me. I have never, ever made an excuse... pleaded a headache... said I was too tired.’
‘Oh, you like sex. I can’t fault you there. But I happen to want rather more than your beautiful body. You see, I’m not what you called “rather fond” of you.
I’m head over heels in love with you, and have been from the beginning.’
The last shred of doubt in her mind was swept away by this unequivocal statement.
‘Then why on earth didn’t you say so?’ she exclaimed. ‘It is still a male prerogative to make the first move, you know.’
‘But not without some encouragement.’
‘If you’ll unshackle my wrist I’ll give you some encouragement.’
Perhaps unaware of the painful strength of his grip, at once he released it.
Flower moved closer and put her arms round his neck. ‘I love you, Roderick. If I’ve seemed offhand it’s because I’ve been deeply unhappy...longing for you to feel the way about me that I feel about you. Until this afternoon, when Kim told me, I had no idea that what happened to me when you came here had also happened to you. How could I know that? I believed that, on your side, ours was a marriage of convenience.’
‘Not true! It’s been driving me crazy... thinking that was your motive... that the only thing about me you were in love with was my house.’
‘Well, I am...I admit it. I adore this house...but I love its owner far more. If we had to live somewhere else...start from scratch in a semi-detached, that would be just fine with me. Oh, Roderick, please say it again...that you love me...you really do love me.’
He took her face between his hands. ‘I love you... and always will. It’s a family trait. Almost all the Anstruther men have been faithful, devoted husbands.’
‘I can’t say the same for my family. Their history isn’t recorded as far back as yours, but all the ones I do know about have had terrible cat-and-dog marriages. But I’m going to change that pattern,’ she told him, her eyes bright with happiness.
Later, before they went down to join the others, Flower opened the drawer in her dressing-table where she kept the pendant Roderick had given her on their wedding-day.
‘Put it on for me, will you, darling?’ she said, holding it out to him.
‘I thought, as you never wore it, you didn’t like it,’ he said as he fastened the chain.
