Arian

by Iris Gower

  Arian sat back and listened as the two other women chattered together, making polite small talk. It was quite obvious to Arian that Bridie was not impressed by Sarah’s affected manners but Bridie was nothing if not a lady and so she offered more tea and smiled encouragingly, listening to the inane things Sarah said as though they were pearls of wisdom.

  At last Sarah rose to her feet and brushed down her skirts. ‘Well, I’d better be going. I shall walk into town along the canal bank,’ she dimpled, in what she hoped was a charming manner. ‘Once I return to civilization I can get a cab back home.’ She turned to Arian. ‘Think about what we discussed, my dear.’ Her tone was patronizing and Arian saw Bridie’s mouth quirk a little at the corners. ‘I’m sure the advice I gave was good.’

  Arian didn’t choose to reply. She watched as Bridie walked with Sarah round the corner of the house, listened to the muted chatter as the two women went towards the gate and sighed with relief when she heard it creak shut behind Sarah.

  Bridie returned fanning her face. ‘That lady is really quite hard to take,’ she said smiling. ‘I suppose as a good Catholic girl with convent manners I should be more tolerant but an hour of Sarah Frogmore is as much as I can stand.’

  She sat down and rested her hand on Arian’s shoulder. ‘What was this advice she was so keen to give you?’

  Arian bit her lip before answering. ‘It wasn’t bad advice, really,’ she said at last. ‘She thought I should go to France, find out if my marriage to Gerald Simples was legal or not.’

  ‘Do you want to know?’ Bridie asked slowly and Arian looked up, meeting her eye.

  ‘If I found I was free of him, it would be the happiest moment of my life.’

  ‘Then I’ll arrange it, if I may,’ Bridie said. ‘I would love to go to France again. My father used to take me with him when I was little.’ Her voice trembled and Arian looked at her quickly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I know you miss him badly.’

  Bridie clutched her hand. ‘I’ll get over it, it’s about time I grew up. I can’t be a daddy’s girl for the rest of my life, can I?’

  Arian suppressed a smile. ‘I like you, Bridie James. You’re like a breath of fresh air, mind.’

  ‘You’ll embarrass me if you go on like that.’ Bridie rose to her feet. ‘I’m going inside now, put all my shopping away, but I’ll see to our trip to France, you can count on it. I’d regard it as an adventure.’ A sudden smile lit her face. ‘I might even get that handsome Paul Marchant to take us, that’s what I’d call an adventure.’

  When she was alone, Arian looked around the garden as though with new eyes. Perhaps she was a free woman – the thought was heady indeed. She had no idea of Sarah’s motives in coming here today. They were probably inspired by self-interest but she didn’t care. She had been handed a sliver of hope and now she felt invigorated as though, suddenly, she had a reason for living.

  It was two weeks later when Arian and Bridie and a reluctant Jono prepared to set sail from Swansea docks. The ship, predictably, belonged to Paul Marchant. It had been the first of his vessels sailing for the French coast and when he and Arian were introduced, they recognized each other at once.

  ‘Ah, Mrs Simples, going to France on another visit then?’ his smile was tinged with speculation. ‘I hope this trip will be happier than the last.’

  Arian looked at him, wondering how much he knew about her arrest and marriage. Not very much, she supposed.

  ‘Mr Marchant is coming with us on this trip, by way of a small holiday.’ Bridie couldn’t conceal her delight and Paul Marchant couldn’t have failed to be aware that Bridie was more than a little interested in him.

  ‘I’m honoured to have you both aboard.’ Paul’s tone was warm, his eyes sparkling as they rested on Bridie. ‘I can only hope you’ll find everything in order.’

  ‘I’m sure I will,’ Bridie said. ‘But don’t you think that deckhand should get out of the way of the anchor line?’

  Paul shrugged. ‘See? Finding fault already.’ His tone was dry but he moved quickly to the side of the ship and shouted instructions to the men on the deck below.

  ‘Perhaps you ladies would like to go to your cabin?’ Paul returned to Bridie’s side. ‘Mr Morgan too?’

  ‘Want to get rid of me, do you?’ Her smile widened. ‘I admit I’ve been a thorn in the side of more than one sailor when travelling with my father’s fleet. As to poor old Jono, leave him be, he’ll cling to the rail until we leave the docks, he hates the sea.’

  Arian followed Bridie below, she seemed as much at home on the ship as she was on land.

  ‘Who is running your father’s fleet now?’ Arian asked curiously and a shadow fell over Bridie’s open face.

  ‘I should be doing it,’ she said, ‘but just at the moment, I can’t cope. Perhaps later on …’ Her voice trailed away and she swallowed hard. ‘I keep expecting to see my father everywhere, at the wheel, reading his charts … Oh, I don’t know, I suppose I’m being silly. Come on, let’s both rest. It won’t do to arrive in France in tatters, will it?’

  She climbed into her bunk, unlaced her boots and flung them onto the floorboards. ‘I’m going to close my eyes for half an hour till we’re at sea,’ Bridie said, ‘and I’d advise you to do the same.’ She smiled. ‘Poor old Jono will be sick the minute we set sail. It’s only his concern for you that made him come along in the first place.’

  Arian climbed up into the bunk, lifting her full skirts and lay wide eyed, wondering if she was wasting her time going to France at all. She felt the rocking motion of the ship, lulling her into a sense of unreality. Soon her eyes closed and she slept.

  It was in the captain’s cabin later when Arian saw Paul Marchant again. She realized that he was an exceptionally tall, very handsome man and for a moment, in a trick of the light, he reminded Arian of Calvin Temple. Calvin – how she’d missed him all these long months. What was he doing now? she wondered. Was he still womanizing, deceiving? Probably so. Men didn’t change their ways that easily.

  Arian sat on Paul’s right hand and Bridie on his left; of Jono there was no sign. As Bridie had rightly pointed out, Jono was no sailor.

  ‘I hope you find what you want in France, Mrs Simples.’ Paul Marchant leaned towards her. He was smiling but the look in his eye was full of challenge.

  ‘Do you know something I don’t know?’ Her tone was blunt and she saw Bridie glance at her in surprise. ‘I’m sorry to appear rude but this trip is important. I have to find out if my marriage to Gerald Simples was legal or not.’

  ‘I won’t say I’m surprised to hear that,’ Paul said in a low voice, ‘and perhaps I can help. I do have my contacts.’

  Paul, young as he was, was used to flirting outrageously with women passengers, very used to exerting his charms. Arian looked at him speculatively. He was probably about the same age as she was, in his early twenties, perhaps.

  ‘You’re very young to be the owner of a shipping line.’ She was embarrassed that she’d spoken her thoughts out loud but Paul didn’t seem the least bit offended.

  ‘I’ve been in the shipping game a while now, Mrs Simples.’

  ‘Please, call me Arian.’ her tone was brisk. ‘Sorry, I hate being called Mrs Simples.’

  Bridie broke into the conversation. ‘I was wondering about you, too, Paul. Inherited the fleet, did you?’

  ‘No. Indeed, I built up the business myself. I’ve been at sea since I was a boy. No-one gave Paul Marchant a gift of anything and all I have I’ve worked hard for, believe me.’

  He paused, his eyes looking mockingly into Arian’s. ‘As for my age, let’s just say I’m old enough.’ His meaning was unmistakable and Arian felt her colour rise. Once, she would have equalled his teasing, would have joined him in clever repartee but now, she was unused to laughter and suddenly she realized how dry her life had become. She stared down at her hands feeling dull and foolish. Bridie came to her rescue.

  ‘Arian hasn’t been too well. She’s ha
d a difficult time of it, lately. A bit of sea air will do her good.’

  Arian smiled at her gratefully. ‘I’m fit enough now, you and that cousin of yours have seen to that. And, if I’m a free woman, that’s all the inspiration I need to begin a new life.’

  ‘And what does Mr Simples say about all this?’ Paul seemed genuinely interested.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Arian said honestly. ‘I’ve left him, now he’s found consolation with someone else, at least I hope he has.’

  ‘So it wasn’t exactly a love match?’ Paul asked. ‘Forgive me for being so inquisitive but I wondered why you were married so suddenly last time you came to France.’

  ‘It’s a long and complicated story.’ Arian had no intention of launching into an explanation of the events leading up to her marriage.

  ‘Arian is full of mysteries,’ Bridie said and if she hoped to divert Paul, she was disappointed. He smiled at her briefly and then returned his attention to Arian.

  ‘Some mysteries are worth unravelling,’ he said. He pushed his plate away and rose to his feet.

  ‘Would you ladies like to accompany me for a stroll around the deck before you turn in?’ he asked. ‘It’s our last chance to talk. We dock with the tide in the early morning.’

  Arian rose to her feet. ‘I intend to get some rest.’

  ‘Well I’m not tired,’ Bridie said ‘I’d love a walk, Paul.’ She looked at Arian apologetically. ‘I feel I need some air.’ Arian left the couple alone together, that’s what Bridie wanted and, as for her, she would be glad to get some rest. In the cabin, Arian lay on her bunk but sleep wouldn’t come. She felt restless, unsettled by the day’s events. One minute she was full of hope and the next her spirits were plummeting.

  ‘Damn you, Gerald Simples!’ she said but her voice was drowned by the creaking of the timbers and the roar of the engines.

  Bridie looked up at Paul. ‘I think Arian’s offended because I didn’t want to go to bed yet.’

  ‘Surely not,’ Paul said. ‘I think Arian has more sense than that. Come along, let’s enjoy a last look at the sea before we turn in.’

  It was cool on deck with a soft breeze blowing across the channel. Bridie shivered and was tinglingly aware that Paul had put his arm around her in a protective gesture.

  ‘I find you very attractive, Bridie James,’ he said, ‘but then I don’t have to tell you that, you are not so stupid that you haven’t guessed already.’

  She stood in the circle of his arm wondering what it would feel like to enjoy a man’s kiss. She knew that if she so chose, she could find out, here and now in Paul Marchant’s arms. But she was frightened, she was so inexperienced, she wouldn’t know how to respond if he did make an advance.

  ‘Bridie, don’t look so worried, I’m not going to harm you.’ He leaned forward and then his lips touched hers, softly at first, experimentally, then his mouth hardened in passion, his arms tightened around her. She stood quiescent in his arms. The scent of him moved her. She felt transported with joy into a world of excitement.

  ‘Paul, don’t … I’ve never …’

  He put his finger over her lips. ‘Hush, I will take care of you, trust me. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.’

  She tipped back her head. The skies were above her, the stars dazzling, the moon a glorious orb ringed with light. Bridie felt as though she had drunk a great deal of wine.

  Paul edged her backwards and, in the shadow of the wheelhouse, drew her down onto the boards that creaked and groaned beneath her as though with life of their own. Paul was stretched out beside her, his hand on her breast, and she drew a ragged breath, her hand on his, drawing it away from her in sudden fear.

  ‘I could take you back to my cabin,’ he said softly, ‘but it seems so romantic here, under the night sky and with the sea lapping against the ship. Can you feel it, Bridie, the life force around us? Don’t be frightened by it. I’ll teach you, I’ll take care of you.’

  Slowly, she put her arms around Paul’s strong neck and drew his head down towards her. His breath was sweet, tinged with the taste of wine, as he kissed her. His hands were on her naked breasts though she didn’t remember him opening her buttons.

  ‘Paul,’ her voice was a whisper, ‘I’m frightened.’ He drew away from her a little.

  ‘I’ll not hurt you, Bridie James. I’ll teach you about passion, teach you about love. You don’t want to be a maiden for the rest of your life, do you?’

  She was torn between her desire for him and her conscience. All her convent teachings had not prepared her for a moment like this when the sea was in her pulse, the air was heady and love was a glittering prize to be grasped.

  She turned towards him and he tipped her face back, kissing her eyelids, her throat, her breasts.

  His kisses lifted her into a world of magic, a world of heightened senses. She pressed against him, feeling the breeze lift her hair, drift across her face, and as the tide of passion rose within her, she clung to his young strong shoulders.

  He brushed her thigh with his fingers and suddenly, she pushed him away, rising to her feet and straightening her clothes. She was trembling.

  ‘It’s not right, Paul. I’m sorry, I just can’t do this. Not now, not like this.’

  ‘All right, all right, my little darling. I promised I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to and I meant it. Come, sit by me, we’ll just talk.’

  They didn’t talk, they simply sat together in the darkness, hand in hand. The waves lapped the sides of the ship and the moon dipped behind clouds. Paul leaned on an elbow and looked down at her. ‘Are you cold, lovely, sweet Bridie?’ he spoke softly, like a man in love.

  ‘I’m so cold I want you to hold me close again,’ she said, reaching up and touching his face. ‘Look, the dawn will break soon. Let’s not waste a minute of this lovely night.’

  Paul laughed low in his throat. ‘A woman after my own heart. I want you Bridie, not just for tonight but for as long as I can have you. Sail the seas with me.’

  Bridie felt her throat constrict. She felt she’d never been so happy in the whole of her life, never been as alive as she was this moment. ‘I love you Paul.’ Her words fell softly into the darkness and he took her hand and kissed her fingertips.

  Arian was awake when Bridie at last returned to the cabin. She edged restlessly about on her bunk but didn’t look up. She was being tactful, Bridie realized.

  She undressed and washed quickly, though it was hardly worth going to bed but once she was beneath the blankets she closed her eyes, drowsy with sleep. She felt dazzled, in love. Whatever happened in the future, wherever fate led her, she would always remember this night as the best one of her life.

  Later that morning, Arian woke heavy eyed. She sat up to look into the flushed face of Bridie James.

  ‘You slept so long, I wanted to wake you up, talk to you. I’m so happy. I’m in love Arian, really in love.’

  ‘You took all the water for washing,’ Arian said, rolling out of the bunk, ‘but then a woman in love doesn’t always think rationally.’

  ‘You know what I’ve done? I’ve allowed Paul to take what my mamma would have called liberties. Do you think Paul will consider I’m loose because I was so forward? I just couldn’t help it, I wanted to … I wanted him to make love to me. I just stopped myself in time, I don’t know how.’

  ‘Hussy.’ Arian’s voice was stern but she was smiling. ‘I had my first lover when I was about sixteen. It seems worlds away now, though I remember it as if it was yesterday, that feeling of wonder it gives you to be loved.’ She glanced at Bridie. ‘I suppose I did play fast and loose but then I wasn’t a nice convent-trained girl like you.’

  ‘Well, I know I let him be … intimate in a way that would have shocked the nuns but I mean to have Paul for a husband one day.’

  ‘You deserve to get what you want and I hope you do.’ Arian studied Bridie. She was a natural wife while Arian was not meant for marriage. From the day she had taken Eddie int
o her arms, she’d felt her role was to be a lover not a respectable married woman, and being tied to Simples had been enough to put her off marriage for life.

  Love, now that was a different thing entirely. She allowed herself to think about Calvin. She had felt real love for him but it had all come to nothing. Men were usually false, self-seeking, and no, she would never want a serious relationship with a man again. She would use them as she’d done when she was so young. In those days, she’d known what was good for her.

  ‘God, I hope my marriage isn’t legal. It would be wonderful to be free, to be my own woman again, to do what I want to do instead of what I’m supposed to do.’

  Bridie touched her arm. ‘Poor Arian. I’m sad that you haven’t found love but it will come. One day it will happen and then you’ll feel as I do now, so happy.’

  At daylight, they stepped ashore at Calais, Arian flanked by Bridie and Jono. At least she felt safe this time, sure that she was not going to be flung into a French jail:

  Her first stop, however, must be the church of St Catherine; it was from there the priest had come to perform the marriage ceremony, at least according to the information Sarah Frogmore had given her.

  Jono asked the way of some young men, pointing to the written word with his thick finger. One of the men made a gesture and pointed ahead. ‘Gauche, the left, one half mile, perhaps.’ He smiled and doffed his hat and Bridie’s colour rose.

  ‘Come along, Arian you can’t trust these foreign gentlemen,’ Bridie dimpled. Since last night, she’d become aware of herself as a woman, and about time Arian thought dryly.

  They followed as Jono turned left and then walked briskly for about twenty minutes. They turned a corner into a rectangle of houses, and there at the end of the block, Arian saw the spire of a church reaching above the rooftops.

  She paused for a moment, her heart beating swiftly. Now, perhaps, she would know the truth about her marriage and for an instant, she was afraid. Bridie jogged her arm.

  ‘Come on,’ she said softly, ‘there’s no turning back, not now.’