The Chainmakers

by Helen Spring

  Anna had laughed, and had liked Jacques immediately. She could not say as much for the other artist, a grey haired stick thin woman with enormous dark eyes. She hardly spoke, and struck Anna as being extremely strange.

  Jacques immediately poured coffee for Anna and pushed it towards her as she sat down. Robert, looking apologetic, said simply, 'Good morning Anna. You're too late, we've eaten all the croissants.'

  'Never mind,' said Anna, 'I've eaten far too much since I arrived.' She looked at the woman seated opposite and took the plunge. 'Good morning Sylvie.'

  The woman started slightly at the sound of her name. For a second her huge eyes looked at Anna above the finely drawn cheekbones. She gave an almost imperceptible nod and then bowed her head, conversation was not a priority for Sylvie. Therese entered and plonked a dish of hot croissants on the table. 'Voila cherie, I know these cochants will leave nothing for you...'

  Later that morning Anna and Therese visited the market. Although Robert had offered to drive them in the pony cart, Therese refused, preferring to walk, pulling a two wheeled handcart which she had used for years. The village was about a mile, and as they made their way along the lane Anna could hardly contain her delight in the lush countryside, dashing from bank to hedge, from tree to shrub, picking one pretty flower or twig after another.

  'Look Therese! What is this called? Oh, look...how pretty!'

  Therese snorted. Secretly she was enchanted with Anna's enthusiasm, but she said shortly, 'Stop dance about, you will be exhaust before market.'

  Anna fell into step beside her. 'But it's so lovely Therese! You can't understand... it's so clean and fresh.'

  'Where you live is no green? No flowers?'

  'Oh yes, England is lovely in the spring. We...' she stopped a moment and then continued, blushing slightly, 'Clancy... my friend Clancy and me... we go to Clent, it's quite near to where I live. There are hills and meadows, and flowers... like here. But we can only go there when we have time, perhaps once or twice a year. Most of the time we are at work.'

  'And it is not clean? You say clean and 'fraiche'?'

  'No, it is not clean. Every day I get very dirty, it is hard to keep clean. Here it is wonderful, I wash in the morning and at night, but I am not dirty at all! It feels very nice...' Anna laughed and stooped to pick a buttercup. She held it underneath Therese's chin and said 'There, you like butter.'

  'Silly child! Monsieur Robert tells me your work is very 'ard. 'E say you work very much.'

  'When did he tell you that?' Anna asked, surprised that she should be the subject of conversation.

  'When I ask 'im. I ask Monsieur Robert to tell all about you.'

  'Oh.' In spite of herself Anna added 'What else did he say about me?'

  ''E say... you are model... and your Mama is... what is the word?... est morte?'

  Anna swallowed, understanding. 'Yes, my mother died a few months ago.'

  'Monsieur Robert... 'e say you need 'oliday, so you come ere.'

  Anna laughed. 'I never had a holiday in my life Therese. I came here because I will be paid well to model for the artists, Robert and the others. At home I cannot earn nearly so much.'

  Therese nodded. She understood the economics. 'Yes, it will be good for you 'ere.'

  'Robert has been so very kind to me. He was so good, on the journey, I was very nervous when we crossed the Channel, I had not seen the sea before.'

  'You do not like the sea?' Therese asked.

  'Oh yes, I like it. To look at it is wonderful, but it is frightening to be on it in a boat.'

  Therese gave a snort. 'Poof! They say the English are good sailors.'

  Anna laughed. 'Perhaps they are Therese, but not where I live. Most of my friends and neighbours have never seen the sea.'

  'Well it is no use to be afraid. You 'ave to go 'ome n'est ce pas?'

  'Yes, but not till the end of summer,' Anna said happily. She twirled around. 'Look how my dress flares out Therese! Robert's mother bought it for me, they have been so kind.'

  'Yes, you said so before cherie.' Therese considered for a moment and then said levelly, 'Take care my pretty one, that you do not allow Monsieur Robert to be too kind.'

  Anna coloured a little. 'Robert is my employer Therese, nothing else.'

  'C'est bon. It should stay like that cherie.'

  Therese sniffed, trundling the handcart behind her as she strode out along the lane. Noticing Anna's discomfiture she added kindly, 'It will not be a problem for you. There is a young man at 'ome, 'ow in English you say? A sweet'eart perhaps?'

  'Perhaps.' Anna had a sudden vision of Clancy's despairing look as he waved to her from the bottom of Dawkins Street. She could see his thick curly hair, and the long dark lashes which fringed his blue eyes. "Irish eyes" her mother had called them, sooty and smoky and utterly devastating to the young girls who worked in the chainshops near the forge. Many of them would no doubt be setting their caps at him right now. While the cat's away, she thought, with a sudden feeling of panic.

  'My sweetheart,' she said to Therese confidentially, 'He... he is very handsome, nice looking...' she explained. 'He is waiting for me. He intends to go to America, to try and make a new life there. He wants me to marry him when I get home.'

  'And go to America?' Therese was incredulous.

  'Yes, he has cousins there who will help him to get work'

  'And you will do this?'

  'I... I don't know. I couldn't decide before I came to France. I could not promise him. It is such a big step.'

  'Indeed. A very big thing,' Therese agreed. 'You would leave your papa, and the brother you tell me about, and 'is family. But then, if you love this... this...'

  'Clancy.' Anna provided with a hint of pride.

  'This Clancee... if you love 'im truly, all others are nothing... is it not so?'

  'I suppose so.'

  'Do not suppose, cherie.' Therese said darkly. 'Be sure. In affairs d'amour... en Anglais... affairs of the...' Therese struggled for expression, pounding her big hand on her chest, ''Ere... affairs of the 'eart. You must be sure.'

  This was said with some vehemence, but she followed her pronouncement with her most winning smile. 'And then cherie, when you are sure... you give all... but all... Absolutement!'

  ~

  'And so you see, it was 'er 'usband all the time!' Jacques finished his story to gales of laughter. 'Son mari' he added, still laughing, for Alphonse's benefit.

  Anna wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. Jacques was such a fool, she thought happily, starting to giggle again. Her ribs ached from so much hilarity and she felt quite light headed. Even Sylvie was smiling, she noticed, as she poured herself another glass of red wine. She gazed contentedly around the big kitchen table, another wonderful meal, perhaps better than any so far, and for the first time it had been cooked entirely by herself under Therese's expert supervision. What fine people they all were, and how she had come to love them.

  She stopped her thoughts in their tracks. Was it true? Did she really love them, all of them? Even Sylvie? How could she feel so strongly about people she had known for a mere six weeks? It was this place, and the wine, she decided, realising she was a little drunk. Life at La Maison Blanche made you suspend your judgment, made you forget the future and live only for today. It seemed she had become closer to these friends than to any people she had ever known, yet how could that be in only six weeks? She considered them in turn, examining them closely over the rim of her wine glass. Big noisy Jacques, who had shown such gentleness as he plaited her hair into a thick braid when she sat for his painting called "En Repos". This was a beautifully executed portrait in soft delicate hues, with an ethereal quality which made Anna feel the girl in the painting was not herself, but some transient spirit which had inhabited her body just long enough to be captured on canvas. Anna admired Jacques's work more than any other, even Robert's.

  Then there was the quietly spoken Alphonse, who to her astonishment had asked, with help in translation from Robert,
if she would sit "a nu". When Robert explained this meant without clothes Anna was horrified, but as soon as she made it plain she would not agree Alphonse had been quite amenable, deciding instead to paint her in the farmyard holding a pitchfork, and in the company of a goose. Jacques had joined the discussion and expressed the view that Anna was too slender to sit successfully "a nu". 'Not enough flesh, ' he said dismissively, and Anna began to realise that these men truly saw her with a different vision.

  It had been pleasant sitting for Sylvie, who remained quiet and reserved. Therese had volunteered the information that Sylvie was from the Balkans, although she didn't know exactly where, and inferred that her strange manner was due to some dreadful events in her childhood. Sylvie preferred to paint outdoors, and Anna had enjoyed sitting in the sun on the terrace, where she prepared vegetables as Sylvie daubed her canvas with strong strokes of vibrant colour. She had created an impression of the courtyard at La Maison Blanche, and Anna saw that the essence of the place had been captured on canvas. During the long hot days Anna had felt a sense of mutual understanding and respect grow between them, and although she did not understand Sylvie's painting, when she looked at it she felt a powerful impact, and she was aware that Robert and Jacques regarded Sylvie as the true genius amongst them.

  And Robert... ah... Robert! Anna regarded him gravely over her wine glass as he conversed enthusiastically with Jacques and Alphonse. He was, she decided, like herself, slightly intoxicated. Since they had been at La Maison Blanche she had watched him gradually relax, day by day. As he lounged in a deckchair with a book, or sat painting a still life hour after hour, as his fair hair grew longer and became even lighter under the warm sun, she saw him become slower, friendlier, as if the casting of his English clothes had unloosed his limbs and his mind from some long constriction.

  Robert suddenly became aware of her gaze, and leaned across the table. 'Ah, tomorrow,' he said pointedly. 'Tomorrow at last I shall have you to myself for two weeks. And you,' he said turning to Jacques, 'Can take your turn at still life.'

  ‘No, landscape I think,' Jacques replied, stifling a yawn. 'And what do you intend? Where will you paint?'

  'I want Anna to sit for the third picture in a triptych, I have already painted her at work and in a domestic scene. This one is to be out of doors, and at leisure. I thought we might take a picnic and find a good spot for the day.' He smiled at Anna, 'Would you like that? You have seen very little of Brittany apart from your walks to the village.'

  'Oh, yes! I'd love it!'

  'Right. Then if no-one else needs the trap I'll show you the Rose Granite coast, it's wonderful, huge boulders of pink stone...'

  'I thought you were going to paint,' Jacques commented drily.

  'Of course I am, but Anna is entitled to a little fun, especially after the marvellous meal she cooked for us tonight.' Robert picked up the wine bottle and regarded it gravely. 'I do believe this is almost gone. Another bottle anyone?'

  'Not for me. I'm a little tired. Good night.' Sylvie rose from the table. At the door she stopped and turned, and said in her heavily accented English, 'Thank you Anna, for the delicious food. You have a talent for the cooking.' She left the room and the men stared at each other.

  'Would you believe it?' Robert commented. 'I think that is the longest speech I ever heard Sylvie make.'

  'Yes,' Jacques agreed. He turned to Alphonse and translated what Sylvie had said. Alphonse remarked 'Oui, c'est vrai!' and lifted his glass to toast Anna.

  Jacques joined in, saying 'Yes, she is right, ma petite. The meal was... superbe!' He kissed his finger ends with a flourish in Anna's direction, and she flushed with pleasure, for she knew he spoke the truth. She had surprised even herself with what she had been able to achieve. The souffle had been light as air, and the guinea fowl mouth wateringly succulent, although she was unable to pronounce the name of the recipe, which Therese said was "hachis parmentier de pintade". The "tarte tatin" which followed had revealed a supreme blend of sweetness and sharpness achieved by using two distinct varieties of apple, heightened by a hint of cinnamon.

  'Yes, it was good,' Anna admitted happily, 'But it is entirely due to Therese. I realise now I understood nothing at all about food or cooking until I came here.'

  'You could not have a better teacher,' Robert commented. 'And she has a superb herb garden. When I am back in England I often think of the meals here, and I yearn for Therese's cooking. As you know we have a good cook at home, but French food... ah... this is something different.'

  Jacques laughed. 'We 'ave a different attitude to food that is all. The English eat to keep themselves alive, in France food is life itself, and worth the most detailed attention.' He turned to Anna and his voice became serious. 'Take advantage, ma petite, learn everything that Therese can teach you. Make notes so you do not forget. It seems you 'ave a talent for le cuisine. Therese tells me yesterday that you 'ave an excellent palate, you know 'ow things should taste. This is something 'ighly regarded in France. To cook well means you will never be without work.'

  Anna laughed, but saw with sudden clarity that Jacques spoke the truth. There would be no opportunity to prepare such food back in Sandley Heath, but there were other places, and if she could come as far as Brittany she could go... anywhere. She began to giggle, and Robert said 'I think the wine has gone to your head.'

  'Yes, and I like it. Let's have another bottle.'

  'Not for you young lady.' Robert said firmly. 'Remember you have to be up early for our day out tomorrow. Come on, time for bed.' He took Anna's arm, but as she struggled to her feet the walls of the room seemed to move, and she sat down again with a jolt.

  'Heavens, how much did you have?' Robert looked quite put out. 'You are drunk my dear,' He hauled Anna to her feet. 'Jacques, I blame you, you always fill her glass too full.'

  'Me? I did nothing! Anna can please 'erself.'

  'I'm perfectly all right.' Anna said firmly. She took a deep breath and made her way to the door, concentrating hard. 'Good night Jacques.'

  'Good night, ma petite.'

  Robert followed Anna up the stairs. He was slightly concerned in case she should fall, but she managed to reach her bedroom door safely. She turned. 'There, you see? I'm perfectly alright'. She giggled again. 'I do feel funny though, I must have had quite a lot, but it wasn't Jacques.'

  'No.' Robert looked at her fondly. She had obviously never experienced a feeling of intoxication in her life and she looked a little dishevelled, like a infant who has been playing rough games.

  'What a child you are Anna,' he chided. 'I must watch you more closely or you'll get into all sorts of trouble.'

  'No I won't,' she responded archly as she opened the door. 'And I'm not a child.' She leaned towards him confidentially. 'I'll show you,' she said, and the next instant she was kissing him so passionately that in spite of his surprise he felt himself respond. Before he knew it a great surge of feeling engulfed him so that he could not stop the demands of his lips on hers, searching, seeking, exploring, savouring the passion she returned to him, all reason lost.

  Suddenly Robert pushed Anna from him roughly. He stood, shocked, his breathing laboured and his heart hammering in his chest.

  'Go to bed Anna,' he commanded sternly. 'Now.'

  The sweet smile in her eyes told him she understood. Told him she had found out his secret, understood the longing he had pushed to the back of his mind since those early days at High Cedars, the desire for her which had been harder to deny every day they spent in each others company. He had not dreamed she felt it too, that it was the same for her.

  Her gaze was bright and glowing. He tore his eyes away.

  'Good night Anna,' he said gently. As he walked back down the stairs he could feel her eyes following him, her gaze burning into his back. His mother's words of warning flitted through his mind, but he discarded them instantly. What did she know of a young man's needs, or a young woman's for that matter? This was France, he had enjoyed a wonderful evening and felt goo
d about himself and his life. It was a perfect summer, and tomorrow would be another lovely day.

  ROBERT

  The trap bowled merrily along the narrow lane, and Anna, refreshed after several cups of strong coffee, began to enjoy the morning. It was probably as well that she had only a hazy recollection of the events of the previous evening, and Robert felt a certain inward amusement at her lack of any sense of embarrassment. He glanced at her, savouring the freshness of her young cheeks, noting with a painter's eye the tendrils of tawny curls which escaped from under her bonnet.

  'Nearly there,' he said, as she felt his glance and turned towards him. 'Just around the next bend there's a place to stop and rest the pony. We'll walk from there.'

  Anna felt a twinge of disappointment as she clambered down from the trap. It was obviously the right place, several carts were there already, and a young French boy quickly appeared, offering to take care of the pony for a few sous. If the sea was nearby it was certainly not visible, and neither was the pink granite coastline Robert had promised.

  She followed as Robert took the picnic basket and led the way along a small path which wound between the trees, and then across an area of sparse scrub. After only a couple of minutes the path rounded a huge boulder and suddenly the sea was before them, blue and magnificent. Anna stopped. 'Oh! Oh, my goodness!'

  For once her delight at discovering the sea was overcome by the extraordinary coastline which bounded its white crested borders. As far as she could see, huge boulders of pink granite dominated the view, worn into smooth fantastic shapes by the pounding seas of centuries.