Arian (44 page)

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Authors: Iris Gower

BOOK: Arian
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She watched him go with a feeling of relief. At least he was staying with her tonight. Sometimes he went out, quite where, she was not told. Perhaps he stayed in the house he’d shared with Arian but it was full of bad memories and Sarah thought it unlikely. The more feasible answer was that he had found another woman but she didn’t want to believe that.

Had she known the truth she would have been surprised and relieved because the nights Gerald was away, he was waiting on the dockside for the night tide to bring in the ships from the bay, hoping that this was the night the
Marie Clare
would dock and with his wife on board. The sailors in the harbour were most co-operative once he’d bought them a drink of ale. He felt he knew a great deal about Paul Marchant and his small fleet. He was the self-same man who had sailed with them to France, the time he’d married Arian. The swine must have had his eye on her even then. Well he would find that it didn’t pay to cross Gerald Simples.

But Sarah was kept in the dark about his nightly excursions and she was distressed by Gerald’s strange behaviour. She loved him more now than when she’d first slept with him. She knew he didn’t love her but then he only loved himself; other people, he used.

In her bedroom she studied herself in the long elegant mirror. She was dressed in her finest satin nightwear and her hair hung loose to her waist. Were her breasts a little too full? Was her waist broadening? Oh, God, was she losing her charms? But no, the lamplight was kind. She looked as young and beautiful as ever, the fault was not in her but in Gerald.

With an air of determination, she crossed the gracious landing and went into Gerald’s room. It was in darkness and she could hear his regular breathing from the direction of the bed.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she made her way towards him and climbed beneath the covers, clinging to his shoulder.

‘Gerald, wake up. I’ve had such a bad nightmare, I’m so frightened.’ It wasn’t very plausible but drastic action was called for. One thing she had learned about Gerald was that he was more inclined to be amorous after he’d been drinking.

She pressed herself against him and he groaned a little shifting his position to accommodate her. She snuggled against him and spoke in a small voice.

‘Will you hold me, Gerald? Please, just until the nightmare fades a little. I’m so frightened alone in the darkness.’

The scent of her perfume seemed to bring him fully awake and his arms tightened around her. ‘You know what you are, Sarah,’ he said and there was a touch of indulgence in his voice. ‘You are a scheming hussy.’

He kissed her throat and she drew a ragged breath as his mouth moved to her breasts. She arched against him hungrily.

‘You are such a fine, vigorous man, Gerald. Is it any wonder I can’t resist you?’ Like any man on earth, he liked to be flattered. Just at this moment, Sarah would have said anything to have him hold her and tease her to a pinnacle of passion.

She ran her hands over his nakedness and knew, with a sense of satisfaction, that he was roused. He wanted her, the knowledge was as heady as wine singing in her blood.

He slid the straps of her gown from her shoulders, his touch expert, practised. She kicked the satin material away from her, glad to be free of it. Now she was as naked as he was and sighing, she pressed closer to him.

‘Please, Gerald, don’t keep me waiting.’ She moaned softly and then he was obeying her wishes, he was possessing her and she felt like swooning with the joy of it.

Afterwards, they lay side by side and Sarah caressed his cheek gently. ‘You are a fine man, Gerald,’ she whispered. ‘If only you were free of that woman, we could be so happy.’

He sat up abruptly. ‘I don’t want to be free of her,’ he said harshly. ‘Can’t you understand that, Sarah?’

She felt pain bite deep into her soul. ‘Gerald …’ she began uncertainly, ‘I didn’t mean any harm.’

He sensed her hurt and leaned over her. ‘Sarah, I want you, I always want you, but Arian is my wife. Try to understand that.’

Sarah told herself that she did understand. He was not a man to let go of a possession lightly. That’s all Arian was, a possession, and it hurt Gerald’s pride to have her snatched away.

She comforted herself with the crumbs of his words. Hadn’t he just said that he always wanted her? Well that must be enough and on the subject of his wife, she must keep her own counsel.

‘I do understand, Gerald,’ she said softly. ‘I am married too, don’t forget. I think a lot of Geoffrey, in my way. Whatever he has done, he
is
my husband.’

Gerald seemed to relax. He lay back against the pillows, and it was clear he wanted to talk. ‘I won’t have her going off at will, gallivanting out of the country. Do you know she even checked up on the legality of our marriage?’

Sarah held her breath. She didn’t want Gerald ever to know that she’d had a part in that. He would be furious if he realized it was Sarah who had put the idea of going to France into his wife’s head.

‘There’s a strange thing to do then.’ As always, Sarah’s Welshness asserted itself when she was troubled. ‘I think she’s the luckiest woman alive having a fine man like you.’ She risked touching Gerald’s hair but he turned away from her hand impatiently. That was the trouble with him; he was passionate enough and yet afterwards, once he had possessed her, he was a cold stranger.

‘Now she’s gone off somewhere else. God knows what she’s up to,’ Gerald continued as though he’d not heard Sarah speak. ‘A law unto herself, is Arian Simples.’ There was a touch of pride in his voice and Sarah felt she knew the secret of his devotion to Arian. She kept him guessing. He didn’t know where he was from one day to the next.

Yes, Sarah saw it now. The one time she was able to take him away from Arian was when his wife was sickly, docile even. Then Gerald had found her tedious. Perhaps she, Sarah, should play the game of indifference with Gerald, just as she’d been doing for the past weeks. The ploy had worked, she’d got Gerald back into her bed again.

She sighed, she must be careful with Gerald, not let him know how eager she was to please him. She turned her back on him and sighed as though she was sleepy and she felt him stir at her side. He seemed restless. Well then, let him be restless. She would not bow to his every wish.

He put his arms around her from behind and drew her into the crook of his body. She felt his warmth, knew his desire for her was reawakened and forgetting all her resolutions, she turned once more into his arms.

The next morning when Sarah woke, Gerald was gone. She sat up in bed staring at the rumpled sheets and wished that he was there with her, his eyes warm with love, his arms reaching for her. She gave a short laugh. She must be content with what she had, with his occasional passion. Gerald Simples was not a man to give very much of himself to anyone.

Arian was glad that the voyage was over. She saw the arms of the pier come into sight and sighed with relief. Paul came to her side and smiled down at her. ‘I thought I’d enjoy this moment with you. I’m leaving the captain to do his job and bring us safely into harbour.’

‘Was the trip worth it?’ he continued. ‘Did you enjoy your voyage?’ Arian saw how handsome he was in the early light. No wonder Bridie was madly in love with him.

‘It had it’s dangers.’ Her voice was dry. ‘But once we understood each other, I think it was a success. At least the trip got me away from Swansea, gave me time to think.’

It had been difficult convincing Paul she’d come aboard thinking there really was a job for her. He’d been incredulous at first.

‘But you’ve left your husband, and a beautiful woman like you was made for love. I find you very exciting Arian, very desirable. I thought we would have a good time together.’

‘A fling before you finally settle down, that sort of thing?’ Her reply had been a little sarcastic. ‘Under any other circumstances I might have been tempted to have an affair with you, you’re a very good-looking man.’

‘But?’ He raised his eyebrows, smilingly aware of her irony.

‘But, Bridie is in love with you. She trusts you. Don’t you realize how lucky you are to have her, Paul?’

He’d taken her hand, capitulating gracefully. ‘I expect you’re right. In any case, I can take no for an answer. Perhaps, as you’re here on board, it really would be useful for you to go over my accounts. We can tell Bridie how clever you were when we get home.’ If his words held a double meaning, Arian had chosen to ignore it.

After that, they understood each other and Arian had been free to enjoy the sights of the exotic islands of the Caribbean Sea – the white sandy beaches, the rugged hills surrounding azure lagoons, the quaint sugar mills.

At St Kitts, they went ashore and spent the day wandering around the tiny town with its shanties laced together by fronds from the coconut trees. Lying there on the sunkissed beach, Arian closed her eyes and imagined Calvin here at her side; the island then would truly have been a paradise.

The cold spray struck her face. Swansea docks was not far away now; she could almost smell the tar and the aroma of the fishmarket. Once she stepped ashore, the holiday would be over, she would step back into the unhappy realities of her life.

But it was time now she returned to her roots. While at sea she’d taken stock, faced her failures head on. The one thing she had succeeded at was writing for the newspapers. Writing she was good at, she enjoyed it, but alone it wasn’t enough to make her a living.

Slowly, her thoughts had crystallized. A newspaper. She could surely do that sort of job? She had worked enough times with her father, watched him write his leader articles. Ink was in her blood, wasn’t it about time she realized that was where her future lay?

‘That’s a pensive look if ever I saw one,’ Paul teased. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to your thoughts. I’d better check on the captain, he’s not all that familiar with these waters.’

She leaned against the rail and stared overboard at the sea washing against the ship. The question of her future came into her mind once more. Up until now she’d been an abject failure. She had tried to make her name in the leather business but she might have known, early on, it wasn’t for her. Oh, she could tap a boot and shoe, carve a heel from leather, do a fairly competent job but there were many who were more skilled than she was in that trade.

She was the daughter of a newspaper man, for heaven’s sake. Surely she could find work in one of the local newspaper offices? She had helped to set the type as a young girl. She remembered finishing off her father’s news items often enough when he was drunk. Words, she was good at words. If only she could find backing, she might even be able to start up her own newspaper, in a small way of course.

The
Cambrian
newspaper had been taken over by someone else when her father had died but the offices had been abandoned. Somewhere in the bowels of the building the old machinery would still be there, rusting probably. A thought filled her head, an extravagant thought, that perhaps she could do something more ambitious than simply work on a newspaper. She could start her own.

A sense of adventure filled her. She knew just enough about the newspaper to get by. She would need help, certainly. There was the problem of distribution; she would need boys to stand on the street corners. She would need a good typesetter, she would need lots of things, but at least now she had an idea that might just work.

The pilot boat drew alongside and the voices of the sailors calling to each other echoed over the waters. What about a ladies’ journal? Arian bit her lip. She could write most, if not all, of the items herself. She would need advertisers, perhaps people like Emily Miller and even Hari Grenfell. There were other businesses – drapers shops, book stores, many business people in Swansea she could approach.

She remembered then, with mixed feelings, how she had stood in Calvin Temple’s library, how he had shown her a directory of business people. Dare she approach him and ask him for help?

The ship was nosing into the docks now, the pier amazingly close and Arian held her breath, wondering if the inexperienced captain had made an error of judgement. But no, the pier arm was successfully negotiated and the anchor was being lowered.

Arian waited, watching the sailors begin to unload the cargo. She must see Paul, say goodbye to him. She had enjoyed being with him and was grateful for the respite, the chance to evaluate her goals. He was a man of ambition and meant to go far in his sea-faring enterprises, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he was about to make Bridie James his wife.

‘Time to go ashore.’ Paul was at her side, his hand resting on her arm. ‘Thank you, Arian, for your company and if you need anything, another voyage perhaps, just say the word.’

‘Thank
you
, Paul.’ She bent to pick up her bag but he took it from her and led her down the gangway.

‘Take care of yourself, Arian.’ Paul smiled and handed her the bag. ‘When you go back to Bridie James’s house will you give her my love?’

Arian smiled at his impudence. ‘I’ll do that. I’m hoping Jono is here to meet me. He said he’d look out for the return of the
Marie Clare
and he’s a man who keeps his word.’

Even as she finished speaking, she caught sight of Jono shouldering his way through the crowd with Bridie clutching his arm.

‘Arian!’ he waved and then he was standing before her, smiling down at her, his open face a picture of welcome.

Arian hugged him and then kissed Bridie’s cheek. ‘It’s good to see you, I’m so glad you came to meet me.’ But Bridie’s eyes were looking past her, hoping no doubt to see Paul.

Jono took her bag. ‘You’re looking bonny,’ he said. ‘The sea air did you good. There’s pleased I am you’re home again though. I’ve missed you something awful.’

Bridie disappeared and, looking over her shoulder, Arian saw she was with Paul. They were talking quietly together and after a moment, Bridie smiled brightly, her plain face transformed.

‘Paul is coming to have a bit of supper with us tonight.’ There was an excitement in her voice that brought a catch to Arian’s throat. Bridie was a lucky girl, she was going to marry the man she loved.

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