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Authors: Sara Seale

Green Girl (28 page)

BOOK: Green Girl
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But Rory found himself eating alone. Whether Duff too had caught the prevailing habit and taken a tray to his study he had no means of knowing, but he was relieved that he would not have to face his cousin tonight when later he heard the front door slam and knew he had gone out.

Harriet was in bed when she heard Duff come up, trying to warm her feet on the sleeping Uriah, since no one had thought the replace her leaking hot water bottle with another. She sat up against her pillows wondering if she should call out to Duff, but even if he was still upset surely he would not omit to say goodnight at Christmas. So she waited, listening for the familiar sounds as he moved about in his room, so acquainted now with each unvaried stage of his nightly routine that she could almost tell to the minute when he was ready for bed. Now he was putting his shoes outside to be cleaned
...
now he was drawing the curtains and opening a window
...
next he would turn down the lamp, but before that he would knock and put his head round the door to call goodnight to her, and she would invite him in make her peace with him
...

His light went out. Harriet sat up, hugging her knees, incredulity and bitter disappointment choking the small cry of protest in her throat. He could not, he would not, let the sun go down upon his wrath, she thought childishly, the tears beginning to force their way behind lids already tender with weeping, and even as she licked her lips to call out his name, the intervening door opened and he came in without knocking.


Oh
!”
I thought you

d forgotten!

she cried, and relief and gladness made her hold out her arms in unconscious welcome and invitation.


Did you, Harriet?

he said, and she thought his voice sounded odd.


Well, I saw your light go out, and that

s always the last thing you do before you get into bed.


I was merely following my usual practice.


Oh! But you generally look in to say goodnight
before
the lamp goes out.


There

s a first time for everything,

he said, and walked unhurriedly to the bed, picked up Uriah quite gently, carried him into his own room and shut the door on him.


Why did you do that?

Harriet asked, more from surprise than anything else, and Duff came back to the bed and stood there looking down at her, his hands thrust into the pockets of his dark dressing-gown which made him look so tall, his shadow thrown in distortion on the wall as she remembered it once before.


As we shan

t need either the dog or the lamp for the rest of the night, they might as well share my room,

he said quite pleasantly, and sat down on the bed.

Harriet, sitting bolt upright against the pillows, was so still and her face so expressionless
that he wondered if she had understood him.


Do you—do you want something of me, Duff?

she asked, and knew even as she spoke how naive the question must sound. What he had in mind was only too plain, she thought, but she did not know how to show him she understood, how to meet him half-way by calling up those feminine tricks and wiles which were said to be instinctive.


How innocent you sound,

he replied quite softly but without tenderness, without even humour, and she realised that he was still holding down a bitter anger which shut him off completely from her own stumbling efforts to reach
him.

He had been watching her face with a stranger

s dispassionate interest, and she remembered that old habit he had of taking a lucky shot at her thoughts and scoring a
bull’s-eye
when he said suddenly:


Yes, it was, wasn

t it? A ridiculous agreement that no one in their senses would have expected to work. Well, the time has come for reviewing the contract, I think. Do I alarm you, Harriet? Isn

t this the cue for tears and protestations?


What am I supposed to protest about?

she asked, left with only the weapon of provocation which she knew to be rash, but she was tired out, both from the day

s disastrous chain of events and the cat-and-mouse game he seemed to be enjoying.


At the propositioning of your hitherto complaisant husband, I would imagine, but perhaps you

re no longer so inexperienced as when you married me.


If by complaisance you mean a—a forgoing of m-marital rights, you, made the rules,

she said, stumbling a little over the words, and he smiled without amusement.


Rules are made to be broken,

he said.

It

s time I exercised these marital rights you talk of so glibly, and it

s time you came down to earth, my dear, and stopped living in cloud-cuckoo-land. Why should I be denied for the sake of a principle what you

re willing to give to another?

She stared back at him incredulously, too astonished even to be alarmed. No one, surely, could have interpreted that little scene with Rory in a sinister light once tempers had cooled!


Oh,
really
,
Duff!

she exclaimed, feeling almost maternal towards him in the relief of having got to the bottom of the trouble.

As if anybody would choose a draughty hall for illicit pleasure with doors in every direction which could open at any minute! Didn

t Rory explain over supper how that silly scene arose?


Rory would doubtless explain away anything to his satisfaction, if not to mine, but I don

t happen to have seen him all the evening,

he replied, and she could hear the suppressed anger beginning to rise in his voice as he went on:

You would seem to have grasped the disadvantages of the hall, but there are other less public spots, and other uninterrupted opportunities. Rory has been here for well over a week, and do you suppose I haven

t noticed the change in you? Don

t think I blame you entirely, my dear. It was only natural, I suppose, that seeing him again should revive those adolescent hopes of Prince Charming, but you happen to be married to the Wicked Uncle, if we must stick to fairy-tales, so you

ll have to adjust your romantic notions and take the consequences.

She stared back at him mutely, looking suddenly very young and rather plain, and was left with nothing to say. Had theirs been a normal marriage she could understand that her innocent pleasure in the company of a younger man might well have aroused jealousy, but to imagine Duff—her thoughts suddenly swivelled with frightening clarity to that other Christmas party so long ago. Had she stirred up bitter memories by her foolish insistence on reviving old customs which he had turned his back on, and was his answer to be the same—to demand his rights and get his wife with child?


I see you

re beginning to treat the matter a little more seriously,

he said.

The tears aren

t far off, are they? I must confess you

ve surprised me by having refrained for so long, since weeping comes so easily to you. Now, since we at last understand one another, let

s have done with all this fencing and sparring.


No
!”
cried Harriet, pressing back against the pillows.

Not in anger and bitterness—can

t you understand?


What should I understand? I told you long ago that a man has basic needs that have nothing to do with love. Anger can spark off passion just as well.


The sleeping
wolf...”
she murmured, remembering the motto.


Exactly. Wolves, after all, only have natural animal appetites, and if you rashly persist in waking one, you must take what

s coming to you, mustn

t you?


It isn

t in me, unfortunately, to wake up wolves or any other living creature. Why don

t you go back to Samantha if all you want is physical satisfaction?

she flung at him, and his long-suppressed anger erupted with a violence that startled them both. He took her by the shoulders, shaking her until her teeth chattered, then flung her back against the pillows and reached out a hand to turn down the lamp.


Throwing up an old affair in my face won

t help you now, my dear,

he said.

I

ve learnt my lesson, now you must learn yours. I see you

re shivering again—are you scared?


No, I

m cold. They forgot to give me a hot water bottle,

she replied, a truthful nature compelling her to correct a misconception even in that moment, and he felt the savage bitterness begin to drain out of him.


Well, move over. I

ll soon warm you up,

he said harshly, and put out the light.

There was still a faint glow from the dying fire to lighten the darkness. Her face and thin bare shoulders were pale blurs of stillness as if she had not heard him, then with a little sigh she obediently moved over to the other side of the bed to make room for him.


That would be kind. My own hot water bottle leaked, you see, and Uriah was warming my feet,

she said, sounding like an overtired little girl who still feels a polite explanation is due, and the last of the anger and bitterness which had sustained him all the evening seeped away, leaving him drained and without desire.


Oh, for God

s
sake
!

he exclaimed, his voice harsh with self-disgust.

Go to sleep, Harriet, and forget, if you can, this rather undignified exhibition.


Duff?

She spoke his name on a soft note of enquiry, reaching up a hand to feel for his to pull
him
down beside her. When he did not move, she turned over with a little sigh of disappointment to face the wall. It was her first timid venture into those uncharted seas of which Samantha knew so much and she so little, and he was giving her no help.


I don

t know the way
...

she said.

I don

t know how to show you that I—I wouldn

t have denied you, because
...


Because gratitude is all you have to give, and gratitude demands sacrifice?

His voice sounded ragged and she could see his shadow on the wall, stiff and motionless.


To give freely isn

t sacrifice.


But gratitude

s a lean substitute for love.


You didn

t really want me, did you? You were just punishing
...

she said, and he moved then and began tucking in the blankets with brisk finality.


I should never have married you in the first place. Now, go to sleep and forget your unhappy Christmas. Everything will be better in the morning,

he said, and went back to his own room and let in the dog.

She slept the dreamless sleep of exhaustion and awoke heavy-eyed and unrefreshed. Her impressions of the night before were confused and nightmarish, but one thing stood out clearly; he didn

t want her, he regretted marrying her.
Everything will be better in the morning
, he had said like a conscientious nanny regretting too harsh a punishment, but the morning brought no solace to a heart which could no longer be comforted by the assurance given to a child.

The storm had blown itself out and the rain had stopped, but the skies were still leaden and the cold was bitter.


We

ll be gettin

snow yet, so you

ll likely have your wish, ma

am,

Molly said when she brought the early tea and drew the curtains, but what use was snow now to crown her Christmas with a false promise of
felicity?
thought Harriet.


That felly

s still at large, they say,

Molly volunteered, disappointed by Harriet

s unaccustomed disinclination to chatter when she brought the morning tea.


What fellow?


Why, the wan that broke out yesterday. Didn

t you hear the bell?

BOOK: Green Girl
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