by Iris Gower
Arian sank back in her chair, her thoughts in chaos, but one thing was clear; Simples was dangerous and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. She was inclined to believe that it was he who had tampered with the accounts, he who had misappropriated the funds, all so that he would have more of a hold over her.
Somehow, she must manage to keep him at arm’s length at least until the divorce was over and done with. Once Calvin was a free man, she could tell Gerald Simples to go to hell his own way.
Events moved swiftly, for it seemed that once Calvin made up his mind to something, he acted on it at once. The premises on the docks were eminently suitable and Calvin saw to it that a room was furnished as an office.
‘A substantial amount of money is lodged in your name in the bank,’ he said as he handed her down from the carriage and led her along the edge of the water towards the office. Gerald Simples was a few steps behind them, with a pile of books under his arm.
‘Yours is the easy part,’ Calvin said. ‘You only have to get the business under way – a simple job for someone as talented as you.’
She knew he was teasing. She knew, too that now she had to really start making her contacts. She needed to find suppliers who would sell her the leather, and customers who would pay her well for the expertise she would offer.
She bit her lip nervously. ‘I’m sure it’s going to go well,’ she said shakily and Calvin laughed as he pushed open the door of her office.
‘I feel I should carry you over the threshold or something,’ he said softly, bending towards her. She looked up into his face and saw that his mouth was very close to hers.
She never knew if it was on an impulse or if he’d calculated his next move but then Calvin’s mouth was on hers. The kiss was light enough, it probably meant nothing to him, but Arian was aware of a feeling of pain deep inside her. She realized that she’d wanted him to kiss her and now that he had drawn away, she felt a sensation of loss.
She took a deep breath, becoming aware that they were not alone. Simples was standing behind them, his face averted but the line of his shoulders showed his tension. A few yards away a group of men in good suits were glancing at them in amusement and Arian moved inside the office, her face aflame with colour.
‘Gerald here is going to help you set up your accounts,’ Calvin said. ‘He really is a first-class man.’
‘I don’t need any help.’ Arian concealed her dismay by bending her head to straighten a blotting pad on the new desk.
‘It’s just for a few weeks,’ Calvin said, ‘until you have chosen your own staff.’ He smiled. ‘I wouldn’t like to leave such an attractive young lady alone on the docklands, it wouldn’t be proper.’
Arian realized he was half teasing her but he was right all the same; she had no option but to accept the presence of Gerald Simples, at least for the time being.
‘It’s very kind of you,’ she said to Calvin and then forcing herself to smile, she included Simples in her glance.
‘And kind of you to spare me the time, Mr Simples,’ she said not meeting his gaze.
‘I must be going,’ Calvin said, ‘but I have taken the liberty of lending you the services of our own Bella for the time being, so that everything is seen to be above board. Can’t have you and Simples being talked about, can we?’
When Calvin had gone, Arian sank down into her chair. The first thing she must do, she decided was to send a letter to Craig Grenfell. When she’d informed him of her change of plans he’d been very generous, requesting her services as a consultant if she was still interested.
Her spirits lifted. This was really too good an opportunity to miss. If Mr Grenfell wanted her help, it would be the first step to supplying his stocks of leather herself.
She drew a sheet of paper across the desk towards her and saw with surprise that it was headed with her name and the address of the business.
‘That was my idea,’ Simples said quietly. ‘I hope you can see how useful I can be to you.’
‘It was a very good idea,’ Arian said quietly. ‘At least my correspondence will look businesslike. Thank you Mr Simples.’
Bella entered the room with a tray, her face beaming. ‘You didn’t know I was in by there, did you?’ She said, ‘Got you a little kitchen an’ all, his lordship has.’ She looked at Arian with a little sideways glance. ‘Very fond of you, he is, mark my words.’
Briefly, Arian’s eyes met those of Gerald Simples and she saw a gleam of triumph before she looked away again.
‘Don’t be silly, Bella,’ she said quickly. ‘His lordship has an eye for a good business venture, that’s all.’
Bella’s grunt revealed quite plainly what nonsense she thought that was. She placed the tray on the table and stepped back a pace. ‘I got to do some shopping now,’ she said, ‘but I won’t be long and I’ll be back to make you some luncheon.’
When Bella had gone, there was silence in the room. Arian looked down at the headed notepaper. The empty sheet seemed to mock her and a sudden sense of panic filled her.
‘One step at a time, Miss Smale,’ Simples said calmly. ‘Just take one step at a time.’
She drew the sheet of paper closer and dipping the pen in the ink, she began to write.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Dirty whore!’ The words hit hard like stones, and as Eline looked into the face of the woman who had spoken them she saw there such venom that a chill ran down her spine. ‘Whore,’ the woman repeated, ‘living tally by here among us respectable women, aught to be burned for a witch you did.’
Taylor’s grocery shop was full of customers and Eline felt the colour run into her cheeks, emphasizing her embarrassment. She drew herself up and looked her accuser in the eye.
‘There’s nothing dirty about me … Mrs Willett … isn’t it?’ Eline’s voice was surprisingly calm. ‘Unlike some people I could mention, I take a pride in my appearance.’ She looked pointedly at the woman’s skirt bedecked on the hem with mud from the roadway. Slowly, her eyes rose to the torn bodice and the worn shawl. ‘I may be many things but not dirty.’
‘Oh clever clogs is it?’ The woman said pushing up her sleeves. ‘Calling me dirty, eh? That’s fighting talk that is mind, don’t take that from no-one, I don’t.’
‘Really, Mrs Willet,’ Eline said coolly. ‘I have no intention of brawling with you like a fishwife. You called me names and that sort of abuse could land you in trouble with the constables.’
The woman paled at the mention of the law. She tugged the grubby shawl closer and quickly retreated towards the door. ‘Well I’ll not shop in by here while the likes of you are being served,’ she said, her jaw thrust forward aggressively. ‘Cast out by your husband you were for having a bastard child and now you are living in sin amongst us respectable folk.’ She appealed to the other women who stood around in ragged groups uncertain how to respond.
‘Divorced!’ she said the word on a gasp of horror. ‘This woman is going to be divorced. Are we going to put up with having someone like her mixing with us?’
The proprietor came forward shaking his head apologetically. ‘Please, both of you, just go,’ he said, his plump chins quivering, revealing his distress. ‘I’m sorry, missis,’ he said to Eline, ‘but just keep away from my shop, I beg of you, I don’t want any trouble in here.’
Eline gave him a long cool look and he rubbed the sweat from his brow. ‘I got to make a living like everyone else,’ he was apologetic but determined. ‘Please, just go.’
She left the shop with as much dignity as she could muster but Eline was trembling as she walked back along the street towards home.
‘What’s wrong?’ Will was on his feet the instant she entered the shop, putting his arms around her, hugging her close. ‘What’s happened, Eline, tell me?’
She sighed heavily, ‘There was a scene in Taylor’s shop. One of the women called me a dirty whore. We were left alone in World’s End among the outcasts of society. That’s where we belong and we should have stayed th
ere, not moved to this more respectable district.’
He tipped her face up so that he could look into her eyes. ‘You are no whore,’ he said softly. ‘You are a woman in love. We are a couple, we will face this together as we’ve faced everything else.’
Eline knew he was right – they had sacrificed everything to be together. She wasn’t going to allow a sharp-tongued harridan to upset her. And yet she was upset.
‘It will get worse,’ she said quietly. ‘Once the divorce is over and the proceedings are splashed all over the newspaper, it will be the talk of Swansea. Can our business survive the scandal, Will?’
‘Look, it’s the rich who are buying your shoes,’ he said. ‘They have enough scandals to last a lifetime so they are not going to bother about you being divorced are they?’
‘I don’t know.’ Eline sank down on one of the stools in the workshop and toyed with a piece of leather. ‘The rich might be up to all sorts of things in private but they take care not to be found out.’
Will took her hands in his and knelt before her. ‘Look, Eline, if things get too bad we can move away from Swansea. We’ll get married quietly and live where no-one knows us.’
‘I won’t be chased out of my home town,’ Eline said firmly. ‘I was born and raised on the outskirts of Swansea and I’m not going to give in to the gossips.’
‘That’s my girl,’ Will hugged her. ‘I hoped you’d say that. Now, go and see to our son - he’s been sleeping for the past hour – and me, well I’ve got plenty of work to do,’ he smiled a little ruefully, ‘because my prices are cheaper than those of any other cobbler, apparently. You see, the poor are not above giving me their business in spite of me living in sin with a scarlet woman!’
Eline forced a smile but as she walked through the workshop towards the kitchen, she felt somehow as though she had been besmirched. The words of the woman in the shop still rang in her ears; ‘dirty whore’, that’s the reputation she would have to live with, her son would have to grow up with, and Eline didn’t know if she could bear it.
Craig Grenfell smiled down at the young lady who was sorting through the heaps of skins in his warehouse, watching with amusement as she indicated those which were inferior. She was wearing a plain brown skirt and loose brown jacket. Her hair, a splash of brightness against the drabness of her clothes, hung in a plait down her back. She really was a lovely girl, clever too.
‘These must be sent back to the suppliers,’ she said glancing almost absent-mindedly over her shoulder. ‘I don’t think for one moment you will be reimbursed for the poor goods but at least you will have proved that you can recognize rubbish when you see it.’
‘Well Miss Smale,’ he said, thrusting his hands into his pockets, ‘I think from now on, I’d be better off giving my custom to you.’ He took out a folded sheet and handed it to her. ‘My first order is for French calf. I’ll trust you to see that it’s the best quality.’
She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. ‘But you know the French suppliers,’ she said. ‘What’s to prevent you doing the ordering of the goods yourself as you used to?’
‘I’m getting lazy,’ Craig said. ‘As you said, I’ve accepted rubbish in this batch of leather. The truth is I wish to spend more time with my family.’ He shrugged, ‘I don’t need to work too hard these days and in any case, I think an enterprising young lady like you deserves help on the climb up the ladder.’
And he did. In some ways Arian reminded him of his wife. Hari had gone into business with nothing but her knowledge and skill at shoemaking – the trade taught her by her father – and now she had become a household name and he was achingly proud of her achievements.
He smiled to himself, and, he was not above being influenced by a pretty young face either. Arian Smale was a lovely girl with soft silver-gold hair, a fine-boned face and a very nice body. Craig sighed, if only he was the sort to take infidelity lightly he might well be tempted to lure Arian into his bed. But then, Hari would have him hung, drawn and quartered, at least.
He became aware that Arian was smiling at him, almost as though she could read his thoughts. ‘You’d better be going,’ he said softly and her eyes glinted with amusement.
‘Yes, I think I better had.’
Craig returned to his office and shut the books with a snap of finality. He might as well finish work for today, go home and make love to his wife. Hari was a beautiful woman, like fine wine she had matured well and what’s more, he loved her dearly. But he could still enjoy the thrill of looking at a young, lovely woman couldn’t he?
Arian sat in her office and stared out through the window. Her first move had been made now; courtesy of Craig Grenfell, her business venture was under way. Excitement filled her. She had passed her first test, for here in her hands was confirmation of her very first order. She had written to the suppliers of French calf and had received their reply.
She sighed. There was one hitch – because she was a new name to them, the suppliers wanted the money put into their own bank before delivery was undertaken. This she had reluctantly discussed with Simples, but he had assured her that this was the usual practice and so she had taken the appropriate steps to have the money transferred from the account Calvin had set up for her.
The huge bill for the calf had frightened her at first but she reasoned that it would be cheaper to order in bulk and keep some of the stock for herself.
‘You are looking very pleased with yourself, Miss Smale.’ Simples appeared in the doorway. ‘I hope you have had a good result from the suppliers you contacted?’
‘Yes, thank you Mr Simples,’ Arian said. ‘I am grateful to you for giving me their address. Where did you get it from, by the way?’
‘It was passed on to me by a very reputable businessman,’ Simples said softly, ‘a Mr Miller, Emily Miller’s husband. He is a very trustworthy person, I assure you.’
‘Of course he is.’ Arian looked at Simples, wondering why he felt obliged to help her succeed in business when it would make his foolish idea of marriage even more remote. Perhaps he hoped to ingratiate himself with her – hadn’t he said he wanted her to come to him willingly?
Whatever his reasons, at this moment she was grateful for his help. She would never find him attractive, never want anything, not even his friendship, and yet his co-operation was necessary to her at this juncture and so she forced herself to be polite. ‘I’m grateful, Mr Simples,’ she said and somehow, his smile made her more than a little uneasy.
When Arian returned to Stormhill that evening, it was to find Mrs Bob in a state near hysteria. ‘That parsimonious, mealy-mouthed woman! I’ll swing for her so I will.’ She hammered the table top with her fist as though taking her anger out on the scrubbed boards.
‘What woman? What’s wrong?’ Arian sat down and Bella handed her a plate of meat and potato pie, her face full of avid enjoyment.
‘Glad I came back early from your place,’ she whispered, ‘I’d have missed all the fun otherwise.’
‘Hush Bella,’ Mrs Bob said irritably, ‘I’m telling this tale so just keep your lip buttoned.’ She sank down into her chair and faced Arian.
‘Left us, gone to another situation, she has, and her spreading gossip about the folk within this household right, left and centre.’ She paused briefly for breath. ‘Do you know what the butcher-boy told me, do you?’
Arian shook her head and waited for the flood of Mrs Bob’s angry words to continue.
‘Mrs Richards has been spreading the story that you are warming his lordship’s bed, the evil, old horse-face has the gall to talk about his lordship and you and that Daphne woman all being involved in immoral doings. Making his lordship out to be a right womanizing, boozing no-good, she is.’
Arian glanced at Simples. He saw the look and she knew he recognized it for what it was – Arian’s way of telling him that he could no longer threaten to blacken Calvin’s name, it had been done more than adequately by the housekeeper.
‘Jealous she is, of cours
e. That’s what’s at the bottom of it all,’ Mrs Bob continued. ‘Just because his lordship took on Simples here, and then to go and put you in charge of the books, well that really got up her nose.’
Arian sighed. ‘Don’t worry on my account,’ she said quietly. ‘I lost my good name a long time ago and I don’t give a damn what people say about me now. I am sorry though for his lordship. He doesn’t deserve to be accused of things he hasn’t done.’ She looked directly at Simples and he had the grace to turn away.
‘I wonder if all this gossip will affect his lordship’s chances of getting rid of that wife of his,’ Mrs Bob said uneasily. ‘I know she’s living openly with that cobbler Will Davies and has a son by him. It’s a disgrace. His lordship deserves better than that but still, people might draw their own conclusions about why she got involved with another man in the first place.’
‘No doubt there was fault on both sides but I know his lordship loved Eline very much,’ Arian said quietly. ‘I know her quite well. She’s had a tough time of it and she’s certainly not the loose woman some people try to make her out.’
‘Well, I dunno about that,’ Mrs Bob said doubtfully. ‘Been married before she has, mind, then had his lordship for a husband and now got a lover. Not doing too bad, is she?’ There was a glint of humour in Mrs Bob’s eyes and Arian responded with a smile.
‘Don’t let’s argue about it,’ she said, ‘but remember, things are not always what they seem to be.’
If there was a double meaning in Arian’s words, both Mr Simples and the cook chose to ignore it. Arian finished her supper in silence and then rose and stretched her arms above her head. Suddenly conscious of Simples’s eyes upon her, she dropped her arms to her side quickly, afraid he might take her action as one of provocation.
‘Thank you for a lovely meal,’ she spoke to Mrs Bob. ‘Now I’m tired I think I’ll go to my room and read for a while before I go to sleep.’
‘Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you,’ Mrs Bob covered her mouth with a work-roughened hand in a gesture of dismay.