With This Ring

by Jean Saunders

  He seemed able to switch off at will, she thought bitterly. It didn’t matter that she lay, sleepless, no longer comforted by the sound of his breathing and the steady rise and fall of his chest. Nor later, when she had turned on her side, by the now familiar settling of her body into the curve of his, with his arms encircling her, his hands lightly holding her breasts as he slept.

  What did he know of the torment she had gone through, during those years when she longed to turn to her mother with her growing-up problems, only to remember that she and her father were off in some God-forsaken hot country, examining the soil and insect life for posterity? Or how she had yearned for James’s more matter-of-fact acceptance of the situation, and the maturity that came to him more easily than it did to Tania?

  Slowly, painfully, it came to her at last that Claude could be right. She did use her resentment as a prop. She had been jealous of James’s masculine ability to cope with a situation that she could not. All this time she had thought of her family’s deaths as being a dire warning to herself. They were wrong to risk life and limb on their chosen roads, and she was right to be cautious, to want to be safe …

  Now, at last, she saw that it was because in reality she wished she could be like them, if only she had the nerve to take that leap into space from her safe shelf. It was why she had never been able to give David Lee the encouragement he had hoped for, because something basic within her told her this was wrong. There was more, much more — there was Claude. And Claude didn’t really want her, except as a mother for his future children. She had made a hopeless mess of her life. For all that her parents and James had died, at least their lives had not been wasted. They had lived gloriously, and knew it was worth the risks. Tania finally knew it too.

  * * *

  If she thought her self-revelation was going to make some great significance in their lives, she was mistaken. Instead of feeling closer to Claude, his own attitude over the next weeks drove them farther apart. It was as if he was suddenly resentful of her being there, and apart from the work on the book, which was making steady progress, they behaved with studied politeness towards one another. It was all so wrong, Tania thought tragically. It was less harrowing when they ranted and raged at each other. At least then she was sure that he felt something towards her, if it was only anger. This way, he seemed coldly indifferent, except sometimes in the darkness of the night, when his arms would pull her close, and the mutual needs that wouldn’t be denied became poignantly sweet. A man like Claude couldn’t deny his own physical desires, when the woman in his arms shared his bed, and his name, and she was helpless to refuse him.

  Sometimes, Tania suspected that he made love to her almost apologetically, as if unable to stop himself, yet sensing that all this, their marriage, her presence here, was only an interlude. That, when she chose, Tania would be gone from his life, for ever. The words were never spoken, but they hung between them like a great hovering cloud. His face was often drawn and unhappy, and Tania knew he was worried about the outcome of Henri’s treatment. If the operation was impossible, it would be a bitter disappointment to all of them.

  The time for Henri’s departure was very near when the weather abruptly changed. One day, the trees were still fiery with autumn tints; the next, they were bare and chill, and the first snows of winter came shivering through the valley. Already the mountains were crowned with white, and the winter climbing season would begin. There had been consultations in Claude’s study, with his bright young assistant, Marc, and the other members of the rescue team, who operated at various places throughout the area, connected by phone and ready at a moment’s notice to converge on the various base camps where a rescue was needed. Tania prayed the day wouldn’t come just yet.

  “Thank goodness the snow isn’t settling yet,” Monique observed as she and Henri prepared to leave in the car when the time came. The boy was pale, but excited too, unheeding of anything but the fact that soon he too might climb a mountain like his adored uncle. Tania’s throat was thick, hearing his non-stop chatter. No risks were too great, if the end justified the means. If only she and Claude were less distant towards each other, she would tell him she knew it now. But they didn’t share that kind of closeness lately.

  “You’ll be fine with Alphonse driving,” Madame assured Monique. “We shall be thinking of you all the time, my dear ones.”

  “You’ll all come to the clinic to see me walk when I’ve had the operation, won’t you?” Henri said eagerly.

  Tania’s throat tightened at his confident little face. She prayed that all would go well. She hugged Monique and Denis as they prepared to leave. Alphonse would drive the three of them to Bordeaux, and they would fly to Geneva. The clinic bordered Lake Geneva, and Monique promised to phone home each night to report Henri’s progress.

  At the last moment, Henri swivelled in his wheelchair to come close to Tania. He reached up to her, his arms clinging round her neck for a kiss, as he whispered in her ear in a fair English accent.

  “When I come home, will you teach me more about England, Tania? When I can walk, Claude says he will take me there.”

  “We’ll both take you,” she heard herself say unsteadily. “It’s a promise, darling.”

  She didn’t think Claude had heard. She didn’t really know why she had said it. She hadn’t needed to. The child would have been satisfied with a lesser response. She only knew that at that moment she had wanted to give him all the support she could, and the continuity of knowing that when he returned, well and strong, everything would be the same. It was what she had always wanted for herself. If she hadn’t ever achieved it, at least she could give the promise to the child. It was the most precious gift that she could make.

  Much later, when sleep was difficult, wondering about Henri, despite the fact that Monique had phoned to say they had arrived safely at the clinic and Henri had the company of several other small boys, Tania moved restlessly in the bed beside Claude. She thought he was asleep, but evidently he too was wakeful, because his voice sounded strong and unrelaxed when it came to her in the darkness.

  “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, chérie. It’s better not to make them at all.”

  The words trembled on her tongue that of course she meant to keep her promise to Henri. Did he think so little of her? Then she felt instinctively that his words had a deeper meaning. Their own promises to love and cherish, said such a little while ago, were as insubstantial as the first snows of winter.

  Without words, Tania knew that Claude was well aware that she would leave him. She could interpret foreign languages with fluent ease, but she was unable to fathom out any inflexion in her own husband’s voice at that moment. He made no attempt to help her. He turned his back on her and muttered a curt goodnight. The slow curling tears ran silently around her cheeks, more bitter than gall.

  Chapter 10

  The next few weeks were difficult ones for Tania. Each member of the Girard family seemed to be enclosed in a private world of anxiety. The first treatment sessions on Henri weren’t too encouraging, and had to be started all over again. Monique’s phone calls to her mother and to Claude were sometimes tearful, and Tania felt very much the outsider. She longed to give Claude some comfort, but he didn’t ask it of her, and he seemed too wrapped up in his own affairs lately to care what she did.

  He was often away from the château, on meetings with his fellow mountain rescue team organisers. Winter was coming in fast, and the fascination for the mountains was insidiously creeping into Claude’s dinner conversation. Tania recognised it only too well. She had heard that same enthusiasm in her brother’s voice, so many times. She had never thought she would understand it. But strangely, little by little, as she and Claude had worked in his study together for the first draft of his book, she realised she had come to terms with a man’s need to conquer an environment outside his own little space of home and family. He was still the hunter.

  Four weeks after Monique and Henri had gone to the Sw
iss clinic, the phone rang while Tania was alone. She picked it up, to hear Monique’s voice, laughing and crying at the same time.

  “The doctor has given us the go-ahead for the operation, Tania,” she gabbled so quickly, Tania could hardly understand her rapid French, but the gist of it was loud and clear.

  “Oh, how wonderful. When?” She hardly got the chance to ask.

  “Not for another two weeks, so I shall be staying on here, of course. It makes such a difference to Henri to have me near — and Denis too, at the weekends. Denis has been so wonderful — a tower of strength — everything a father could be to Henri.”

  Tania heard Monique’s voice soften, hesitate, and then rush on.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything yet, Tania, but I think of you as a sister, and I must tell you. When all this is over, and Henri is walking tall and strong, Denis and I will be married. It will take some time for Henri to regain the use of wasted muscles, and he will have to learn to walk again. But it will happen, Tania, I know it will. And probably in the spring, Denis and I will be married. I would like it very much if you will be my attendant. Please say that you will.”

  How could she possibly say that by the spring she intended being far away from here? Running away from reality, as she had always done … the imaginary words were all in her head, in Claude’s angry voice. Tania brushed them away, telling Monique how happy she would be to act as bridal attendant. There would be time enough later for Monique to find someone else. Now was not the time to distress her when she was so keyed-up over Henri, both elated and apprehensive.

  She relayed the news to Madame Girard and Claude over dinner that evening. By now, the château fireplaces glowed with great burning logs every evening to warm the chilled air, and the tangy scent brought a breath of Christmas to Tania’s nostrils, though it was still some time away yet. When it came, where would she be? Still here, caught up in an impossible situation, loving a man who seemed to have turned against her completely in everything but business matters? Back in England, enmeshed in the cloying Lee household? No, that was one place she wouldn’t be, Tania thought decisively. It was about the only thing she was certain of these days.

  “I shall go to Lucerne when the operation is due,” Madame declared at once. “A family should be together at such times, and Monique will need our support.”

  “Of course, Mother,” Claude agreed. “Tania and I will accompany you. Henri has become so fond of her, I know it will please him.”

  She didn’t answer, murmuring a brief acknowledgement. He hadn’t asked her whether or not she wanted to go. She was his wife, and it was expected of her. His wife … she looked across the dazzling white tablecloth, the heavy Girard silver gleaming in the glow of firelight and the tall candelabra, seeing opposite her the face of the man she loved more wildly, more completely, than she had ever dreamed it possible to love a man. The soft lighting threw the planes and contours of his face into rugged shadows. As rugged as the mountains he loved. Tania felt a sudden stinging jealousy for the mountains, as pointless as it was sharp and real. Claude showed them all the care and consideration and respect that he would give to a woman. Right now, the mountains had his love too. At least, Tania had none of it …

  He looked up from his meal, and over the rim of his wine glass, their eyes met. Tania’s prickled a little, wishing she could read of his love in the dark depths. Why had he married her? Why? He had desired her, wanted her with a passion that had dazzled her senses, but it wasn’t love, it wasn’t the same as love, that tenderest, most beautiful of emotions. Love lasted for ever, while desire could wane and die. She hid a small sob, because it was painfully obvious now that that was just what had happened. Claude’s desire had been sated, and he had been willing to pay the price of marrying her to get what he wanted, since it was rejected in any other way. And now he was resenting the fact. He was cold towards her, rarely making love to her, and it was Tania who yearned for his touch, his warmth, his love. He had allowed her to blossom into womanhood, to be more aware of herself and of life, and he had just as coolly left her wanting. It was cruel and arrogant, but her pride wouldn’t let her make any approaches towards him. Let him think she was happy enough with their new arrangement. Let him think she didn’t care for him, as she had made it plain enough in the beginning. She lowered her amber eyes from his steady gaze.

  * * *

  The day of Henri’s operation drew near. It would be a delicate operation, and there was no denying the air of anxiety in the family. Monique welcomed the fact that the others would be there to support her in the hours of awaiting the result. Even now, it could fail, and Henri would be doomed to the wheelchair once more, unless the surgeon decided he could try again. But she wouldn’t think of that, Monique had said bravely on the phone. She wouldn’t think of failure, only of seeing Henri walk again. As she had once said, this was her mountain. Tania admired her tremendously. She had all Claude’s strength of character in her slender body, and God willing, Henri had it too, to help him through his ordeal. He was so little, so vulnerable …

  Madame and Claude and Tania were to leave for Lucerne in two days’ time. The roads were slippery with snow now, and Alphonse had fitted snow-chains to the wheels of the limousine. He would take them all to Bordeaux airport. They intended to stay for a week or less, just to see the operation through, and ensure that he was on the road to recovery. Claude didn’t want to be away any longer. Already the winter sports enthusiasts were invading the slopes of the Pyrenees, and there had been isolated calls for help, minor ones so far, but the threat of danger was ever present as jagged slopes that had once provided good footholds turned into precipitous sheets of glacial ice. More often than not, Claude had spent his time at the well-equipped base camp at the foot of the favoured climbing ranges, to be within reach of a mayday call with his team.

  Reputable climbing teams checked in with the rescue headquarters before they set out, giving detailed charts and routes, and estimated times and distances to be covered, so that any irregularities could be charted and suspected at once. Unfortunately, not all climbers bothered with such sensible requirements, preferring to go it alone in a false sense of pioneering and adventure.

  The morning of the departure to Lucerne arrived, and so did the high-pitched buzzing of the alarm bell in Claude’s operations room. Tania felt her heart turn over as she heard it, and followed Claude into the now familiar room, to hear him speak rapidly into the phone, his fingers tracing over the large-scale map of the Pyrenees mountain range, covering the whole of one wall.

  From his angry exclamations and the stabbing fingers on the map, Tania guessed there was something badly wrong. She heard him speaking Marc’s name, telling him quickly that he would be there as fast as he could, and not to worry about the other matter, because Claude would take care of it.

  A sixth sense seemed to tie Tania’s stomach up in knots at that moment. She couldn’t have explained the reason for it. It was a bit like the seconds just prior to a storm, when everything seemed to be waiting, hushed, yet crackling with undercurrents of the tension to come. Claude looked at her calmly.

  How could he be so calm, she thought fleetingly, when all her instincts told her this was the big one, the rescue call she had been inwardly dreading all these months? She had hardly registered the fact until now, when the moment was here, shivering in the air between them. For some crazy reason she suddenly remembered young Henri’s face lighting up, telling her of some of Claude’s rescues, his childish pride, the confines of the wheelchair doing nothing to diminish the male need to dominate the very elements, to cheat the greedy mountains of death. James hadn’t cheated them, she thought, with bitter pain. The mountains had won, and now Claude, Claude … A wave of emotion caught her throat. Not again, not again. She stepped forward, her hand reaching out to touch his arm, the words trembling on her lips to beg him not to go, not to do this. She was ashamed of her cowardly feelings, and for daring to voice them to Claude, but this was her love, her ve
ry life … Before she could say anything, Claude spoke, his voice hard, unemotional now, seeing only the job that had to be done.

  “No doubt you heard some of that, Tania. I’m needed at once.”

  “Is there no-one else?” she said tremblingly. “Must it be you?” She bit her lip at his look.

  “Your consideration does you credit, chérie, but it’s a little late to pretend a wifely concern. Alphonse must take Mother to the airport alone.”

  The significance of the remark hadn’t yet reached her mind.

  “But Henri, the operation —” She was still clutching at straws to make him stay with her.

  “Henri is in the best of hands at the clinic. The team of three Dutch climbers is relaying messages that one of them has fallen down a deep fissure and the others can’t reach him. There’s danger of an avalanche.” He spoke in clipped, precise tones, all the while collecting data from his files, relevant information as to exact rock formations, snowfalls, current wind speeds and directions. All the things Tania had begun to learn about since being here. She knew the dangers more acutely now. “Would you have me leave them to their fate when I have intimate knowledge of their position and hopefully can help them? Is that what you’d have wanted for James, while would-be rescuers pursued personal desires?”

  That was cruel. The salt tears stung her eyes, when suddenly she felt the grip of Claude’s strong hands on her arms, his eyes seeming to bore into hers, willing her to understand, as if it was necessary to him that she should.

  “Can’t you see that I must do this, for James, for me, for every damn-fool man who ever wanted to climb a mountain, Tania? Even for Henri … I could go to the clinic, and stand by with the rest of you while the operation takes place, but it’s not my way to stand by when I can be useful to someone. I’m needed in the mountains. Needed — do you understand what that means?”

  “Yes. I do. Oh Claude, I do.” The blood seemed to rush through her veins, hot and turbulent. To be needed was to be loved. She needed too, but she could no longer fight the needs she felt in him. She had to let him go. She would accompany his mother to Lucerne and share the watchful hours.