The Chainmakers (14 page)

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.

'Oh look Robert... it's like... like...'

Her words trailed away on the slight breeze. It was not like anything, she thought, not like anything she had ever seen or imagined.

'It's... beautiful, but so... strange...'

'Yes.' Robert had visited the Rose Granite coast several times before, but the first sight of the bizarre landscape always disturbed him. 'I sometimes think that perhaps the surface of the moon is something like this,' he ventured.

'Of course not!' Anna had recovered and was starting to jump with excitement. 'The moon is made of green cheese, everyone knows that!' She started to run, calling 'Come on Robert, down here...'

Robert followed with the picnic basket, watching Anna as she clambered blithely among the rocks, making her way towards the sea. For a moment he considered painting her here, against this background of weathered granite, the softness against... No, she must be seen against the greens of the countryside, these hard shapes would destroy what he intended, and anyone who observed the finished picture would not believe such a place existed, and would misinterpret his intention.

Anna had climbed up on to the top of a high boulder. 'Look there Robert! That one looks as if it is balancing on a point!'

Robert laughed. 'It probably is. If you pushed it perhaps it would topple over.'

He watched surprise and indecision struggle briefly in her face before she responded 'Oh! Stop teasing. But it does look as if it would topple.'

'The sea has worn the granite away over the years so that there is only that small point left to hold it up.' Robert explained.

'What happens when the point is worn away completely? Will the boulder just roll down into the sea?'

'I shouldn't think so. It will happen very gradually.' Robert put down the basket. 'Come and sit down Anna, this flat rock will be ideal for the picnic.'

As she clambered down from her vantage point he glimpsed a slender ankle, a froth of white cambric lace, and as she neared the bottom a vision of beautifully rounded calf.

He felt the familiar stirring and smiled at her gently as she began to unpack the basket. Gently does it, he told himself. Like the sea had worn away the granite, so he would wear away her reserve, her rigid working class conception of right and wrong, the values she had absorbed because she had no others. He would show her new ways of thinking, open her up to passion, to transports she had never dreamed of... she was already half way there if last night was anything to go by.

'I honestly think I will miss Therese's pâté more than anything else in France,' Anna said. She cut a big slice and passed it to him on a plate. She sawed at the bread, speared a thick chunk on the end of the knife and held it out to him. 'I never tasted it before I came here you know,' she confessed, helping herself to a slice.

'There are lots of things you have never done Anna,' Robert said gently.

'I know. I certainly was never at a place like this.' She spread pâté on her bread, took a bite and chewed contentedly, gazing around her all the while. 'That boulder... will it fall eventually?' she asked. 'Will the sea wear it away in the end?'

'Oh yes,' Robert said quietly. He smiled. 'Eventually it will fall. You can bank on it.'

~

Anna was restless. Her eyes roved the beach below, watching idly the antics of two small children, as they dug happily in the sand pools left by the receding tide. She wondered vaguely where the children lived, and let her gaze wander beyond the beach, to the few small cottages which straggled out from the village. Perhaps they lived in one of those, or in Locquirec itself. She craned forward but still could not see the village, hidden beyond the high rising cliff.

'Keep still please Anna.' Robert said briefly.

Anna started back into position quickly. She had been sitting in this spot for hours on end, day after day, and although she was becoming a little stiff she had not tired of the view. How extraordinary to live here, she mused, watching the children playing in the sand. They had been brought up in the centre of so much beauty, freshness and freedom. She could not help but compare their surroundings to those of her own childhood, when the escape to clean air and fun had been once a year on the day of the Chapel outing. Did these children know how lucky they were? Probably not, any more than she had known how meagre and poverty stricken was her own childhood. It had been how things were, that was all, and in the same way these children took Locquirec and its surroundings for granted.

Surely it could not be much longer until lunch? Trying not to move her head she glanced sideways at Robert. She felt again the peculiar intense feeling in her stomach, as she watched the assiduous concentration on his face as he worked. Such a beautiful face, she thought, anyone who gets to know him must surely love him as I do. She loved his thick untidy eyebrows, his aristocratic nose, and the plane of his cheekbones which she knew so well from long study. And his lips, so sensual when he laughed, so inviting even when pressed firmly together in painstaking application, as they were now. And his body, his long lean body which she found herself watching each day, devouring every movement with her eyes...

'Not long now my sweet.'

The long body moved, brush in mid air, as he contemplated the canvas.

Anna dragged her eyes back to the view, and a faint blush coloured her cheeks. He had called her "my sweet", surely that meant something? Or perhaps it didn't. Although she could remember little of the night at the farmhouse when she had drunk too much, she knew she had behaved disgracefully, kissing Robert in a very forward manner. She also understood he had enjoyed it as much as she did. Since that day he had never made a move towards her, and yet sometimes she felt, in that strange current which seemed to pass between them, that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. If that was so why did he not take her in his arms? Why did he not sweep her away and make love to her, give her the kisses she needed so desperately? In the last two weeks they had become so close, so intimate, but without touching so that it was driving her mad. In another few weeks they would be going to Paris, and their time together would surely be curtailed.

'There, we'll break for lunch.' Robert began to wipe his brush. 'I won't pack everything away, we can have lunch here. Tell you what,' he continued as Anna stretched her stiff limbs, 'Let's move round the corner, into that little hollow we found the day it was so windy. It was very sheltered.'

'It's not windy today,' Anna countered 'And we can't see the sea from there.' Nevertheless she followed Robert as he picked up the basket and walked a little further up the steep hillside.

Robert spread the rug in the hollow and Anna unpacked the basket. As usual Therese had done them proud, with a selection of cheeses and fruit and a Breton patisserie. Robert opened a bottle of wine and as they enjoyed their lunch they relaxed into the easy familiarity which had grown between them.

Anna was never sure afterwards exactly how it happened. As he reached across to the picnic basket, Robert's arm brushed her breast lightly. She stiffened, as he murmured briefly 'Sorry.' In that second their eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity, and a moment later she was in his arms, responding to his kisses with abandon, trying to slake the thirst for him which had been denied too long. Her need aroused in her a passion which shook her body through in its intensity, and when he released her at last, she was gasping and breathless.

'My dearest, my little darling...' Robert whispered. He stroked her face tenderly, and in his eyes Anna saw the look of burning desire and felt her heart leap.

'Oh Robert...' She could not speak, the words would not come.

Robert kissed her face gently, her eyes, cheeks and neck. His lips caressed her shoulders as his hands moved over her body, fondling, caressing and arousing in her a tumultuous wave of desire, a craving which could not be denied.

Even so there was a moment when she desisted, when her mind sought to gain dominance and she gasped 'We must not... we must not...'

Robert drew back, and she saw the tortured look as he whispered 'If you do not love me...?'

'Of course I do! Oh Robert, you know how much I do...'

'And I love you, so much my darling. Let me show you how much, we must always be like this, must always be together...' His kiss drowned any protest, and Anna gave herself up to the voluptuous enjoyment he gave her, his practised hands rousing her to such a crescendo of passion that when he entered her there was only a fleeting second of sharp pain, before she was lost in an ever mounting symphony of feeling which swept her to unimagined bliss.

~

Terese was harassed, it had been a hard day. There seemed no end to the items which had to be completed and crossed off her list. It wasn't just the packing of their trunks. La Maison Blanche was to be closed up for at least a month, as Therese was to accompany the group to the Paris house to act as cook, the artists having decided that to enjoy her food for another few weeks was well worth the expenses of her trip. This arrangement suited Therese very well, as she had a sister living in Paris and would be able to visit her for a few days. Even so, closing up the house entailed a lot of work. She had organised the meals so that food could be either finished up or taken with them, arranged for her friend Albertine to come and feed the livestock each day... and she must leave the place clean...

She looked up from wiping the larder shelves as Anna appeared in the kitchen. Mon Dieu, she thought, the girl looks younger and lovelier every day. Therese was no fool and was well aware of the reason. It's amazing, she thought, what love can do for the complexion.

'Hello Therese, still at it? Well I'm ready, all packed, and I've cleaned my room and Robert's.'

It was on the tip of Therese's tongue to say 'I expect more than cleaning 'as been going on in Monsieur Robert's room', but Anna smiled her lovely open smile, and Therese bit back the retort and said, 'The kitchen floor is to be clean... then I must prepare for myself... I still 'ave not find my clothes to take to Paris...'

'Oh Therese, aren't you excited? I am. To think of us going to Paris! The only sad thing is leaving here...' Anna looked round the large comfortable kitchen with affection. She knew the memory of La Maison Blanche would remain with her. She had been happier here than ever in her life...

'Poof!' Therese was saying. 'Excited for going to Paris? What is Paris? Nothing! And those Parisiens... they 'ave much money to waste but are so... so...'

'Stingy.' Anna supplied the word, well aware of Therese's views on Parisiens. 'Or mean, you can say mean.'

'Yes, mean.' Therese agreed. 'They will not give you the drip off the nose!'

Anna laughed. 'Go upstairs now Therese and pack your things. I will do the floor,' she added, seeing Therese was about to remonstrate. 'You have done enough for today. When the floor is dry I will make us a nice cup of tea.'

Therese nodded, but at the door she turned. 'Coffee,' she said firmly.

'Tea,' Anna responded, just as firmly. 'There is enough to make a last pot.'

Therese scowled, and left the room muttering 'Les Anglais! Le thé, toujours le thé!'

Anna smiled, she enjoyed their little arguments about tea versus coffee. She fetched the floor bucket and began to wash the floor. It was a good floor of dark stone tiles and came up well. She was reminded of the quarry floor in the kitchen at High Cedars, although of course that was red. There were a few quarry floors in the better houses in Sandley Heath, although her mother had never enjoyed the luxury of such a floor at home, in fact there probably wasn't a quarry floor at all in Dawkins Street.