Rachel Lindsay - Unwanted Wife

by Rachel Lindsay

  "Because I am speaking on one of the extensions."

  "Then we'll make it short and sweet," he said. "Are you free to have dinner with my family tomorrow night?"

  "I do not know your family," she panicked. "And they are such a large one—they will make me shy!"

  Roger chuckled. "You won't be shy once you meet them. I promise you that!"

  "Then I will be happy to come. But don't bother to collect me. I will enjoy a walk to the village."

  There was a pause and she knew he did not believe her.

  "Very well," he murmured. "But if it's raining and you want a lift, call me."

  Luckily the following evening was a fine one and Tanya walked happily to the village and met Roger strolling through the High Street to meet her. With some trepidation she entered his home, a small semi-detached house set in a large garden which seemed to be full of vegetables.

  "My mother's answer to inflation!" Roger grinned, seeing her eye an outsize cauliflower before he pushed her down a narrow hall and into a dining room that seemed to be full of people. They soon resolved themselves into brothers, sisters and brothers-in-law, all presided over by a buxom and exuberantly friendly Mrs. Poulton, who sat at the head of the table dispensing food and dry humor with equal abundance.

  "Have some more stew, Tanya?" she said, ladling another portion of succulent meat on to Tanya's plate. "You look as if you could do with feeding. Do they give you enough to eat up there?"

  "More than enough," Tanya assured her. "But this is really delicious. And I have always heard that English cooking is bad."

  "I think tinned food's nicer than fresh!" piped up twelve-year-old Brian, the youngest member of the family who, she had learned from Roger, had been born six months after his father died. "When you make food yourself, it tastes different every time, if it's tinned, it always tastes the same."

  "The same sort of rubbish," Roger said sarcastically and raised his eyebrows at Tanya in mock despair. "Have you ever met such a frightful brat?"

  She smiled. "Tim and Emma think the same. They too only like to eat the most horrible things!"

  There was general laughter, then one of Roger's sisters began to ask her about her charges and whether she liked her job.

  Tanya was guarded in her replies and was relieved when Roger cut the questions to announce he was speaking at a meeting in Tipton and was going to take Tanya with him.

  "You and your election!" his mother said. "I'm sure Tanya would be much happier sitting here gossiping with us. Listening to you will bore her stiff."

  Tanya was astounded that Mrs. Poulton should speak in such a way. Adrian's mother treated the election as if it was something sacred. But then the entire Poulton family was different from the Chestertons, for where Adrian was deferred to, Roger was continually teased.

  "I would like to go with Roger," she assured Mrs. Poulton. "I have never heard him speak."

  There was a burst of laughter around the table. "You must have struck him dumb then," commented Lydia, Roger's youngest sister. "We find it impossible to stop him speaking!"

  Roger grinned as he rose and Tanya obediently followed him to the car, waving goodbye to the family who crowded the garden path to see them off. "You have a wonderful family," she said warmly as they drove away.

  "They're not bad," he replied, and Tanya marveled at the lack of emotion displayed by her new compatriots. It was obvious a deep affection existed between all the Poultons, yet to praise them to each other elicited only the most casual response. She sighed and wondered if she would ever get used to living in England.

  She wondered about this again as she sat in the village hall listening to Roger speak. Some of the audience did not agree with him and continually interrupted him, but the rest of the people took the hecklers in good part, and when the meeting was over quite a few of them joined forces and marched off to the nearest pub.

  "That could never happen in my country," she commented. "People who are on different sides politically are on different sides in everything."

  "It's becoming a bit like that here too," Roger said. "Though mostly in the cities."

  "If you win this election, you will be part of a big city."

  "Do you want me to win?" he asked with a smile.

  "You deserve to win," she said quickly. "Your speech was excellent."

  But that night as she lay in bed, she knew that however much she liked Roger and his family, she did not want him to win. A few yards away, physically separated by four walls yet mentally separated by so much more, was the one man whom she desperately wanted to succeed: Adrian, her husband.

  Did he still fall asleep with one arm above his head? During their brief week of marriage the other arm had lain heavily across her, as if even in sleep he had been afraid she would leave him. Yet he had been the one to leave her, she thought bitterly, and even when she had come to him he had not wanted her. But no, that wasn't true. He did want her. The way he had kissed her had told her that. But wanting was not loving and she had no regrets at turning him away. All she regretted was that she had ever responded to him, for it had awakened all her dormant desires and now they burned continually within her; no longer were they damped-down fires but glowing embers ready to flame into life at his touch. Yes, it would take only the merest touch from Adrian to set her alight for him; to make her plead for his kisses; to urge him to assuage the deep yearning she felt for him.

  My love! she cried silently. My one and only love!

  CHAPTER SIX

  The afternoon following Tanya's visit to his home, Roger returned to it tired and dispirited. He had held a meeting in a part of town inhabited by Adrian Chesterton's supporters, and they had hardly let a word of his pass without heckling him. Had Tanya been there, she would not have thought it so different from Rovnian politics after all!

  Flinging his hat at the hallstand, he strode toward the sitting room, pausing as he heard voices there. He recognized one of them as his mother's but the other was unfamiliar and he straightened his tie. Then he opened the door and went in, stopping abruptly as he saw the slim, dark-haired girl on the sofa. What in heaven's name was Diana Biddell doing here?

  "Good evening," he said coldly. "Did you want to see me?"

  "Hello, Roger." Her voice was calm. "How are you?"

  "Very well, thank you. And the weather's fine too."

  Momentarily Diana looked discomfited and Mrs. Poulton stood up.

  "I'll leave you two to get on with it while I finish my ironing."

  "There's no need to leave us," Roger said shortly, glancing from Diana's Gucci shoes and St. Laurent dress to his mother's cotton overall. "Whatever Miss Biddell wants to say to me can be said in front of you."

  "Maybe so." Mrs. Poulton went to the door. "But my ironing won't disappear of its own accord!''

  Roger compressed his lips and remained silent until the door closed. "Well, well," he said heavily. "It's a long time since you honored us with a visit. When you were about fifteen, wasn't it? Before your prejudices began to show."

  "My not coming here had nothing to do with prejudice. I was away at finishing school and you were at university. We couldn't expect to see so much of each other."

  "There were still the holidays," he said tonelessly. "You could have seen me if you'd wanted. Not that I blame you because you didn't. The plebeian Poultons were never on your father's visiting list!"

  "I'd rather we didn't discuss my father," she said stiffly.

  "That would be a pleasure!" Roger stuffed his hands into his pockets. "What did you come here for?"

  She hesitated and he saw her fingers were nervously intertwined. "I—er—it's about Tanya." She paused, as if hoping he would say something, but he went on looking at her implacably. "You're not making it easy for me, are you?"

  "Too many people have made it easy for you," he replied. "Go on with what you were saying."

  "As I've just told you—it's about Tanya. I don't know what you hope to gain by seeing her."

 
For a moment Roger was a loss for words, then he found them, and his anger with it. "What does any man hope to gain by seeing a beautiful woman? I'm not in your class socially, Miss Biddell, but physically there's no difference between me and your upper crust fiancé!"

  "You are deliberately misunderstanding me," Diana said icily. "You know very well that Tanya is living in Adrian's home and cannot help being caught up in his affairs. And since he happens to be your opponent in the election, I should have thought the implication was obvious."

  "The implication being that I'm seeing Tanya for devious reasons?" Roger spoke softly, but anyone who knew him well would have been warned by the pale line that had appeared around his mouth. "I've no doubt that's the way people in your circle might act, but we workers happen to have a little more self-respect!"

  "Must you keep talking like a Marxist student!" Diana burst out. "Can't you at least be civil to me while I'm here?"

  "I could say the same to you! What the hell business do you have coming here and insulting me?"

  She bit her lip. "I'm sorry if you think I have. But I was hoping you would make Tanya see she's doing herself a disservice. If it were after the election it wouldn't matter."

  "It doesn't matter now. You're behaving as if she's got hold of state secrets! All she does is work for Chesterton's sister. And if she wants to go out with me in her free time then…"

  "I should have known I was wasting my time coming here to talk to you. You're so blinded with prejudice you aren't able to see anyone else's point of view."

  Angrily she walked past him, her eyes wide and unblinking, as if moving the lids might precipitate a shower of tears. He muttered something and half raised his hand. His fingers brushed her shoulder and she jerked back as though his hand was a flame.

  "Afraid of me besmirching you?" he sneered.

  "Must you misunderstand everything about me?" she whispered. "I don't regard you as my enemy, Roger. I never did."

  "You don't regard me as your friend either."

  "I used to."

  "When we were children," he said. "Which we can never be again." On an impulse he bent his head and pressed his mouth on hers.

  For a split second she stood motionless, too surprised to resist, then she stepped away from him and glared at him. "What was that for?"

  "To remind you how susceptible I am to beautiful women!" His voice was mocking. "Aren't you going to slap my face?"

  "You've been reading too many cheap novels," she replied. "Which really doesn't surprise me."

  Before he could think of a suitable retort she had gone, and he raked his hands through his hair and then went into the kitchen where his mother was still ironing.

  "Diana gone?" At his nod she shrugged. "Pity. I was going to make some tea. Never mind. We'll have some instead. Turn off the light under the kettle, Roger, there's a good lad."

  "I doubt if she'd have bad tea at this hour of the day," Roger said, obeying his mother's request. "She has it at four, with cucumber sandwiches!"

  "I'm sure she'd have enjoyed a cup at five-thirty." Mrs. Poulton's tone was as placid as if she were talking to young Brian. "She's a nice girl, is Diana; as you'd see for yourself if you weren't so obsessed with her father. It's not her fault he's a rich old fool."

  "It's her fault she's a rich young fool!" Roger snorted. "She does nothing with her life."

  "She's a devoted daughter," Mrs. Poulton said, "and with the father she has, that can't be easy."

  "Do you mind if we don't continue this conversation?

  I've a meeting tonight and I'd rather like to change into that shirt you're still ironing."

  Mrs. Poulton pulled it off the ironing board and slapped it into his hand. "When you're standing in front of the mirror putting it on," she said, "take a good look at yourself at the same time. You mightn't like what you see!" Leaving an astonished man staring after her ample back, she marched out of the kitchen.

  Though Roger did not tell Tanya that Diana had been to see him, it made him feel constrained with her, and he found himself wondering if Tanya also assumed he was seeing her for any underhand motive. In order to set the record straight, he discussed his motives with her.

  She heard him out in silence, her beautiful violet eyes watching him with an innocence that reminded him of a child. Yet she was in no way a child; there was a maturity about her that occasionally astounded him; an ability to get to the heart of a problem: to see facts without emotionalism. In her own way she had been extremely helpful to him, acting as a sounding board for many of his ideas. It was odd that he talked to her so frankly and openly and it gave him pause for reflection. Though Diana thought that he was seeing Tanya in order to find out what Adrian was doing, he himself had never suggested that Tanya might be seeing him in order to spy for Adrian!

  "Our friendship is causing many people to talk," Tanya said, cutting across his thoughts. "But it is my conscience that concerns me—not other people's."

  "But other people can make things difficult for you," he said gravely.

  "With you as my friend, I can face the difficulty."

  "You speak as if I'm your only friend." He looked at her curiously. "What about the Chestertons? I mean, you came straight here to them, didn't you? You must have known them before."

  It was a long time since he had shown curiosity about her working at Park Gates and Tanya was now prepared for it. "Betty had her name down with one of the refugee agencies," she said steadily, "and I liked the idea of working in the country until I had decided exactly what I wanted to do with my life."

  "You won't spend it being nanny to other women's children," he said positively. "You'll marry and have your own."

  "I will never marry again."

  "Again?" He caught her up on the word. "Have you been married before?"

  Shock closed her throat but she was swift to recover. "It was just—how you say—a figure of speech."

  "Then if you've never been married," he smiled, "how come you're so anti-marriage?''

  " I have seen too many unhappy ones."

  "You'll change your mind when you meet the right man."

  She laughed. "You sound like your mother."

  "Don't tell me she's been having the same conversation with you?" he said ruefully.

  "The other day she was trying to make me see how wonderful you are!" Roger looked so discomfited that Tanya laughed. "Do not worry about it. I was able to make her see we are only friends."

  He was silent for come considerable time before speaking. "You must think me an odd character. You're beautiful and desirable yet I haven't tried to make love to you. It isn't that I haven't wanted to. It's just that I don't want to spoil what we have and I think that—that promiscuity might… Oh hell! I sound like something out of the ark!"

  "You sound like a sincere and charming man," she said seriously. "Having your friendship is far more important to me than having your kisses."

  "One day you will have both from a man," he said. "Friendship and love."

  "One day you will have that from a woman."

  "No." The sound was positive. "I've years of work ahead of me. If I don't win this election I'll find another seat to fight. I'll be too busy to think of marriage for years."

  Tanya remembered this as she watched the children playing in the garden the following day. It seemed unnatural that someone as intense as Roger should be content to lead a celibate life. Intuitively she felt he was in love with someone or that he had been in the past. Sufficiently in love for it to have soured him too much to consider having a similar relationship with anyone else.

  Her eyes moved over the grass to the house. The front door was open and she saw Adrian come through it and walk to his car. He was too far away to know she was watching him but she still averted her eyes; then, chiding herself for a fool, she continued to look at him. How tall and distinguished he was. Even at this distance one could not mistake his aloof bearing. Yet it was an aloofness that was only surface deep; beneath it lay kindness
and gentleness. And passion too. Despite his austere appearance, he was an exciting and inventive lover.

  What would have happened if she had given in to him the other night? Would he have ended his engagement to Diana or would he, when sanity had returned, have hated himself for allowing passion to overcome reason? She would never know the answer and, unless she wanted to be haunted by him for the rest of her life, she must stop asking herself these questions.

  A large ball bounced into her lap and with a start she jerked back, laughing as Tim flung himself upon her. "Play with us, Tanya," he shrieked happily. "Play with us."

  Glad to have other thoughts to occupy her, Tanya lumped to her feet and complied.

  A couple of days later she spent the day with Mrs. Poulton. Betty and her husband took the children to the seaside for the day and though they asked Tanya to go with them, she decided it would be good for the young couple to be alone with their family. It might even encourage Betty into making a decision to live in her own home instead of sharing her mother's.

  Her day was spent happily helping Mrs. Poulton bottle forty pounds of jam. It brought back happy memories of I he time when she had helped her mother in a similar way, but she did not say this aloud, knowing that to talk of it might reduce her to tears, and if Mrs. Poulton occasionally looked at her face and wondered why there were shadows in the lovely eyes, she was too wise to comment.

  But when they were sitting down having a well-earned rest, the woman referred to her son and Tanya's friendship with him. "You've been a good influence on him, Tanya. I wish you and he could settle down together."

  "We don't love each other. We are good friends. Nothing more."

  "Pity. You'll make a lovely daughter-in-law."

  "I'm sure he'll bring you one."

  "There's never been any shortage of women for him," his mother agreed. "But none of them have brought out the best in him—the way you have. With Diana, for example, he's like a bear with a sore head."

  Tanya was surprised. "I did not know they still saw each other."

  "They don't—leastways not often. They used to be close as bread and butter when they were kids. Adrian Chesterton too. Now they're not even friends."