Arian (51 page)

Arian felt a pang of alarm. ‘He can be dangerous, Sarah. For God’s sake, take the advice of the doctors. Make sure Gerald takes the medicine regularly.’

‘There’s no need. I don’t know what trick you’re trying to pull but Gerald is fit and well. I look after him properly, which is more than you ever did.’

‘Look, Sarah, I haven’t come here to quarrel with you about Gerald. All I wanted was to talk to Mr Frogmore about his … his friend.’

‘Why?’ Sarah looked at her challengingly. ‘What are you going to say about Chas?’

‘I don’t know.’ Arian shrugged. ‘Perhaps you can tell me a bit about him, something flattering that I can print in my paper, an obituary.’

The door behind her opened and Geoffrey came into the room. Arian felt herself melt with pity for him. Geoffrey Frogmore had been crying, his eyes were red and swollen and his hair was tangled about his forehead.

‘What’s going on here?’ He looked from Sarah to Arian. ‘What are you both doing in my house?’

‘I came to see Jack.’ Sarah moved to her husband’s side and slipped her arm through his. ‘This, this woman has come to write about Chas. Tell her how we both cared about him as friends should, go on Geoffrey.’

He disentangled himself from his wife’s arm. ‘I loved him, as a friend.’

The simple words brought a constriction to Arian’s throat. She smiled sympathetically. ‘I know you did but I need facts about him; his age, occupation, the names of his parents, where he was educated, that sort of thing.’

‘You’ll be sympathetic?’ Geoffrey looked at her appealingly. ‘You won’t write anything speculative?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not ashamed of caring for Chas but there’s so much to consider, my son for a start.’

‘I know,’ Arian took out her pencil. ‘That’s why I came myself, so that I can be sure of writing a suitable obituary.’

‘Don’t listen to her, Geoffrey. She’ll make a scandal of it all, expose you to ridicule. Be very careful what you say. In any case, I’ll be a witness for you, Geoffrey, should she tell any lies.’

‘Please, Sarah, be quiet.’ He spoke with authority. ‘I want Chas’s name to be honoured in Swansea. He was born here and he died here and I don’t think Miss Smale is going to do anything underhand or scandalous, so leave it to me, will you?’

Geoffrey’s dignity impressed Arian and as he talked she wrote rapidly. Chas, it seemed was the son of a rich copper baron, his father was a man of means and of stiff-necked pride.

Arian folded her notebook and looked up at Geoffrey. ‘I’ll be very careful how I write this obituary,’ she reassured Geoffrey, ‘don’t worry.’

She left the house and turned once to see Sarah framed in the window. Perhaps, Arian thought, she should have made another attempt to convince Sarah that Gerald could be dangerous. But then Sarah had made up her mind that he was fit and well, it was pointless talking to her. And yet, even as she walked back into Swansea, Arian’s sense of unease was growing. Gerald was at large a dangerous man who might strike anywhere, anytime and Arian knew that she was afraid.

The house smelled of paint and brand-new drapes, the carpets were deep and rich, and the good heavy furniture was waxed and fragrant. The Hollies was Arian’s new home, rented for now but once she had enough money, she intended to buy it and live there for ever.

The elegant house looked over the sea at Swansea. The large windows facing the curving bay allowed the sunlight into every room. There were no dark corners at the Hollies and better still, no dark memories.

‘You’ve done well for yourself, girl.’ Fon hugged her baby daughter to her breast and stared across the room admiringly. ‘
Duw
, I’d never have thought to see you so prosperously set up, mind.’

Arian looked towards Fon who had settled in the depths of the chair. Everything about her seemed to gleam with happiness, from her bright hair to her even brighter eyes. It was good to see Fon again, Fon with her ever growing brood of children.

‘I’m successful, after a lifetime of failure,’ she agreed. ‘I haven’t got what you’ve got, though, the love of a fine man and lovely family. I can see the happiness shine from you right across the room.’

Fon blushed. She would always be the simple girl from the village of Oystermouth who had married her farmer, never be sophisticated, never be a career girl like Arian and yet it didn’t seem to matter.

‘Me and you, we shared some good times and some bad times, mind.’ Fon lifted her baby to the other breast and a pearl of milk beaded the child’s mouth. ‘But we’ve come through it all and none the worse for it.’

Arian wasn’t too sure of that. Her past had marked her and there were memories that would always haunt her, memories that sometimes even now reared up in the night.

She realized with surprise that she hadn’t thought of her husband in weeks, since she’d visited Geoffrey Frogmore and spoken with Sarah.

Arian had not heard a word from him or about him and she didn’t want to. Still, the feeling persisted that he would always be there, at the back of her mind, at the back of her life, waiting to pounce.

‘The paper’s doing well, got to be the best one this side of Cardiff.’ Fon’s soft voice interrupted Arian’s unhappy train of thought. ‘Everyone reads the
Swansea Times
, see it everywhere I go.’

Arian concealed a smile. The places Fon went were few indeed, a visit to her relatives in Mumbles and perhaps a supper with friends now and again was about the limit of her social life. Fon needed no-one. She had her family growing up around her. Above all, she had Jamie, in love with her still in spite of the new plumpness in her hips and the roundness in her cheeks.

‘Jamie coming to fetch you, is he?’ Arian asked pouring a fresh cup of tea.

‘No, I’m meeting him in town. He doesn’t believe in me being away from him and the little ones for too long.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘Not trying to get rid of me are you? Haven’t got an assignation with a lover by any chance?’

‘Not by the slightest chance,’ Arian said firmly. ‘There’s no man in my life now, which is a relief after Gerald, I can tell you.’

‘Everybody needs someone,’ Fon said softly. ‘You can be too independent, mind, turn the men away, make them frightened of you. Ease up a bit, Arian they’re not all wasters, believe me.’

‘I do,’ Arian forced a smile. ‘I’ve seen you and Jamie together but as for me, I’m all right as I am, I don’t need anyone. I’ve got my job.’

‘The paper can’t tuck you up into bed at nights,’ Fon shook her head disapprovingly. ‘Can’t tell you it loves you or give you a bit of a cuddle when you’re feeling down, and you are feeling sad, I can see it in your eyes.’

‘I’m all right, just envious of you.’ Arian coughed to cover the sudden rush of tears. ‘And I’m never lonely, it’s difficult to get any time alone, in fact. This evening now, I’ve got Mac coming round, Mac’s my senior reporter.’ She paused. ‘I’m going to ask him to start up a new features section to the paper, see what he thinks.’

‘All right, you’re good at changing the subject so I’ll be good and ask what sort of thing do you have in mind for this new part of the paper?’ Fon held the baby upright on her knee and rubbed the small body.

‘Well, it will principally deal with women’s interests, sewing, cooking hints, budgeting, that sort of thing.’

‘Will that go down well in Swansea?’ Fon sounded doubtful. She buttoned her bodice and cuddled the baby, making small rocking movements even though the child was asleep.

Arian couldn’t help staring. She would have no child of her own, not now. It wasn’t that she was old, not really, but she couldn’t envisage being a mother even if her life had turned out differently. As it was, she was tied to Gerald. She couldn’t marry anyone else and she was not interested in casual alliances. Not now.

‘I don’t know if a women’s page will be well received or not,’ Arian answered Fon’s question truthfully. ‘I never will know unless I try it. Anyway, I trust Mac’s judgement. I’ll see what he says about it.’

‘But you’ll go ahead with the idea whatever?’ Fon said smiling and Arian smiled too.

‘I expect so.’ She watched as Fon rose to her feet and picked up the closely woven shawl which she wrapped around her own body, tucking the baby inside like a neat parcel.

‘Better be on my way,’ Fon said. ‘Jamie will be waiting for me in the market.’ She smiled. ‘I don’t like to leave the children for too long, April isn’t the most patient of girls.’

She stood for a moment on the front step with Arian and it was clear she wanted to say something more. Arian smiled indulgently. ‘Come on, spit it out.’ She watched the frown on Fon’s brow and knew that something she didn’t want to hear was about to be said.

‘I saw that Sarah Frogmore,’ she said. ‘In the market she was, with him, your husband. He had the cheek to ask about you, where you were living. I didn’t tell him anything, mind, but he was that persistent.’

Arian felt she was facing a great chasm. ‘Damn and blast,’ Arian said softly. ‘I hoped I’d never hear from either Sarah or him again. Did he look well?’

‘You owe him nothing,’ Fon spoke sharply. ‘They might make a show of being respectable but he left you to live with that Sarah Frogmore. You can’t feel responsible for him any more.’

‘I wish I didn’t.’ Arian bit her lip. ‘But tell me, Fon, was he all right?’

‘Seemed a bit agitated, if you must know. Eyes staring at me in a strange way, frightening really.’

Arian sighed and stared up at the sky without seeing the slowly moving clouds.

‘I wish I hadn’t told you now,’ Fon’s voice was low. ‘I should have kept my mouth shut but I thought you should be warned about him. I think he’s going to come and see you from the way he was talking.’

Arian forced a smile. ‘Don’t let it worry you, I can cope with Gerald.’ She watched as Fon walked away from the house, her baby wrapped close, her tawny hair shining in the sunlight. Slowly Arian turned and moved back into the house and suddenly, her hands were trembling.

Calvin Temple sat in the garden staring out over the curving sweep of the bay far below him. The scent of roses was all around him and the sun was warm on his face. He should feel on top of the world, he told himself. He had everything; a fine home, an easy life-style and most of all, he had a new mistress.

Ellie was sweetness itself; golden of hair, soft of nature and passionate in the bedchamber. She was a pale imitation of Arian Smale and Calvin knew it.

Arian. A success now, her newspaper flourishing. Everyone, including Ellie, was avidly reading the new feature pages within the
Swansea Times
, an innovation by anyone’s standards and guaranteed to make the paper more popular than ever.

Calvin recognized Arian’s hand in the leader articles in the women’s pages; these were always well constructed and full of controversy. He saw none of her in the gimmicky pieces on cooking and budgeting the household expenses, those were things that would not interest Arian in the least.

Ellie now, she read them with delight, sitting in the apartment he’d bought for her. She even ventured to try some of the recipes, much to her cook’s chagrin. Ellie was cut out to be a wife, a homely girl who wanted a husband and a brood of children around her skirts. He’d toyed with the idea of marrying her, of course he had. He needed heirs but he always balked at the asking. More than anything he needed the spice that Arian alone brought into his life and he might as well face the fact that it was Arian he loved and longed to spend the rest of his days with.

He knew of her husband’s sickness, something wrong with the man’s mind apparently. He’d heard about it with a sense of dismay; he knew Arian, she had too much conscience to abdicate responsibility for her husband and he wouldn’t put it past her to take the man back in spite of everything.

If Calvin hated anyone, it was Gerald Simples. Simples had tricked Arian into marriage, he had stolen Calvin’s money and had got away with it scot-free. Revenge when it came, would be sweet indeed.

Bella came into the garden and bobbed a curtsy. ‘A lady here to see you, sir.’ He caught a glimpse of the curiosity in the maid’s face before she stepped aside and allowed Ellie to enter the garden. She stood before him with a hangdog expression on her face.

‘I’ve got to talk to you, Calvin, love.’ She spoke softly, her Welsh accent lilting and delicate, her voice was one of the things about Ellie that most pleased him.

He met her eyes and warning bells rang in his mind. Ellie looked pale, strained even. She had never come to his house unasked and he wondered if she had found another lover, a man who wanted to marry her.

He was surprised by the feeling of relief that swept through him at the thought. He knew, quite suddenly, that after an initial sense of pique, he would not be too worried if Ellie were to leave him.

‘That will be all, Bella.’ He waited for the maid to leave.

‘Go on, then Ellie,’ he encouraged, ‘spit it out, I won’t bite.’ He patted the wrought iron seat but she remained standing like a small girl about to be rebuked.

‘I’m with child.’ The words fell into the silence, softly spoken words, almost an apology in themselves. Calvin became aware of the singing of the birds, the rustling of the leaves in the tree, as his mind, for an instant, refused to accept what Ellie was saying.

She had begun to weep softly, her head down, her hands hanging to her sides. He rose and took her in his arms and patted her awkwardly. Guilt seared him. He hadn’t expected this. But why hadn’t he? It was the thing women did best, getting with child, usually in order to trap a man into marriage.

Immediately, he dismissed the thought as unworthy. No, not Ellie, she wouldn’t even think of trapping him. She was innocent, a lovely girl with not one ounce of guile in her make-up.

He drew her towards the garden seat and took her on his knee and smoothed the hair from her face. ‘It isn’t your fault, Ellie,’ he said softly, soothingly. ‘It isn’t anyone’s fault. These things happen.’

He was suddenly calm. After the initial shock, his first thought had been to offer marriage but he had been down that road before with Eline and would not take that path again.