The Woman at Stable Cottages

“Aden, its lovely to see you. It’s been ages.”

She kissed me on the cheek.

I have read of innocent maidens blushing when the hero plucks his first kiss. I expected myself to be above such soft and feminine responses. So, why did I feel my face flush?

Conducted into the cottage I could see the changes immediately. Furniture was in place; the rooms were ready for occupation, except pictures were still unhung.

“They’ve finished in this cottage, and have only a bit more to do in the other one,” Kym said. “See the arch? Its all one house now.”

I stepped through the arch to peer into the other cottage and could see there was some plastering to be done and then painting.

Returning to first cottage I was struck by the colours used on the walls and doors. They were blue, green, yellow and orange. In most circumstances, I would have thought the colours both too many and clashing. Somehow, they had been used in such a way in the cottage so as to look just right. I could not work out why, but Kym apparently doing her mind reading again, said, “You find the colours unusual?”

“Er…yes, but they seem to work, somehow…”

She laughed quietly. “Give them time and you’ll find they give you a feeling of serenity.”
I took her word for it, and we proceeded to the kitchen, which, it seemed, was still the domestic focus. The babies were once more asleep in their double cot, and there was a feeling of “home.”

“I like it in here,” Kym commented. “By the way, Emily has been teaching me to cook. You are going to be the first outsider I’ve cooked for – so prepare yourself for the worst.”

I must have looked surprised because she went on, “I’ve never had to cook before, but now, with the babies, I can’t always rely on Emily or someone like her, so I’ve got to learn. There are some things on the go at the moment, so dinner in about half an hour.”

The mention of dinner, which I could smell cooking in the oven, had a follow on effect. One of the babies woke up and began to whimper. This in turn awoke the other one and the whimpers began to rise to a shriller note.

Kym smiled. “Sorry, it’s feeding time. You don’t mind, do you?”

She unbuttoned the top of her dress. She seemed to be wearing a special sort of bra that enabled her to easily expose her breasts. She picked up one of the children, sat down, and with a hand under one of her breasts brought the nipple to the child’s mouth. It began to suck avidly.

The other child was still in the cot, its cries growing lustier.

“I can feed them both at once,” Kym said, “but a prefer one at a time. Would you mind holding Jessica? I won’t be long.”

I had never held a baby in my life and it must have shown. Kym instructed me on how to pick the child up and hold it. Following instructions, I took the child in my arms. As I sat down its cries abated and it began to make sucking noises.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, little one,” I quipped, but despite my inability in the food department, it quieted completely, and lay staring at me. It was the first time I had taken a really close look at either of the children, and its eyes, even at its tender age, had the penetrating look of the mother’s.

“She’s gone very quiet,” I said.

“Babies often like being held by a man. They feel the strength and security, and they…”

“I don’t know their names.”

“You’re holding Jessica and this is Tania. They are being baptised in a couple of weeks.”

I was looking at Kym feeding the baby, and the impact was almost the same as the first time I saw the baby at her breast. I struggled to find a word that would describe what I was seeing and feeling. Words like, “Divine,” “Holy,” “Sacred,” came to mind.

I sought to pull myself out of this nonsense. “Don’t be such a bloody fool, Aden,” I told myself. “You’re just looking at woman with a baby at her tit. It’s a mammary gland for stuffing food down a kids gullet.”
It was no good. I couldn’t convince myself of what I considered to be a rational view of what I was looking at.

Had I seen any other attractive woman with her breasts on display, I would have got horny. Looking at Kym, I was not getting aroused. It was something else – something more. But what was it? What I was feeling I could not define. My lawyer and accountant brain could not fit the situation neatly into any category I understood.

I became aware that I was staring at Kym, fascinated. I looked away, embarrassed and troubled that I might be discomfiting Kym.

Those eyes of hers read me again. “It all right to look, Aden,” she said gently, “some father’s love to see their wife feeding…”

I looked up at her words, and she stopped abruptly. Her usual self-assurance seemed to desert her, and she stammered.

“Sorry… Aden… I didn’t mean to put it like that…it’s just that…that I would have liked…well…their father…”

“Its okay,” I muttered lamely.

The child at her breast came off the nipple and began to cry.

Kym looked at me and said, “Sometimes they feel the emotional state of the mother.”

I could feel Kym’s agitation myself, and I sought to pacify the situation.

“I think seeing you feeding the baby is beautiful.”

“Clumsy fool.” I had made things worse. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she bent her head over the child to try and hid it.

The baby I was holding had started to cry in sympathy with the other. I let a bit of paternal instinct come into play.

“I’ll just walk her around a bit, it might settle her.”

My purpose was to get away from Kym as much as to stop the child from crying. I succeeded in both objectives. I left the kitchen and took the child for a tour round the rest of the place. It seemed to enjoy the movement, and began to go to sleep.

Kym’s voice called me, so I returned to the kitchen. She seemed to have recovered from her emotional upset and was putting Tania back in the cot. She held out her arms for Jessica and in passing her over my hand brushed against Kym’s warm breast. I felt my stomach muscles tense, and there was a tingling sensation in my groin.

Kym exposed her other breast for Jessica, and this time I observed them unashamedly. Neither of us spoke – perhaps afraid that we might say the wrong things again.

I wanted to capture the vision. “If only I had a camera,” I thought, “Or better still, have the ability to paint them.” But then, no photograph or painting could replace the living reality of what I was seeing.
I made another effort to bring myself down to earth.

“Millions and millions of woman have been and are feeding kids,” I thought. “Why are you so wrapped up in this one?”

I could not answer my question.

Ridiculously, I felt a pang of regret when Kym had finished feeding. Tania was already asleep, and Jessica joined her.

Kym now completed preparations for our meal, which turned out to be a very simple affair of roast beef and vegetables, followed by what she called, “A lemon thing,” which was delicious. When I poured the first glass of the wine I had brought, Kym said, “I told you I have something to celebrate. Well, it’s the completion of my first interior decorating design since I came here, and its acceptance. Not bad for a mother of two who has been up to her ears with moving, builders and accountants?

We laughed and drank to her victory.

After dinner Kym put on a music CD, and she showed me some of the paintings she intended hanging on the walls. They were prints, not originals. In fact, the originals of the prints would have cost her whole fortune two or three times over.

Two of her prints really captured me. One seemed to fit in with the other business she had said she intended engaging in. It was called “Brood Mares and Foals,” by George Stubbs. The other, a humorous painting by Thomas Rowlandson called, “The Merchant,” or as it is sometimes known as, “A Money Scrivener.”

This latter picture depicted an eighteenth century Scrooge figure contemplating his accounts, while a clerk works away in the background. It seemed an unusual picture to hang on a cottage wall, and Kym, observing my interest in it, said: “It will serve as a reminder.”

I was tempted to ask, “Reminder of what,” but decided I might be putting my foot into a wasp’s nest.

By the time we had looked through and discussed all the paintings it was getting late. I had heard somewhere that nursing mothers often have to get up in the night to feed their babies, so I decided it was time to go.

I rose to bid Kym goodnight, but she stopped me.

“Aden, there’s yet another favour I want to ask of you.”

I anticipated something to do with the cottages or accounts, or perhaps a legal matter. I was wrong.

I’ve hesitated to ask you…and now, after what I said earlier you might think…I mean I shall understand if you say no…so please…don’t feel obliged…but I would appreciate…”

“Please Kym, tell me what you’d appreciate.”

“Well, it’s the twins…I er…”

“Kym, say it and get it over with, please.

In a rush, “The baptism.”

“Yes?”

“You see, Emily is going to be god mother, and George said he’d come with his wife, just to be there. So I wondered if you’d…just as a friend…mummy and daddy will be there…”

She must have seen that I’d just about reach bursting point at her vacillation, so she hastily said, “Would you come to the baptism?”

“Oh my God, what have I got into?” This was all getting a bit too domestic for my liking.

She noticed my hesitation.

“Its all right Aden, I only thought…I haven’t been here long and don’t know many people…and I just thought…”

“Of course I’ll come.” (“Flaming idiot. Atheist Aden off to church”).

“Oh Aden, I’m so pleased. I mean…you have become a special friend. Er…would you hold one of the babies during the baptism?”

“Well you see, I don’t really believe…I mean, I don’t go the church, and all that sort of thing…”

“Its all right. You won’t have to take any vows or anything. Just hold one of them for me, that’s all.”

“Well I suppose so, yes.”

“Thank you.”

I got my second kiss on the cheek for the evening and left in turmoil.

I was so distrait I nearly climbed a tree with the car on the drive home. What was going on? What have I got myself into?

I kept telling myself, “She’s just a client who happens to be a friend…just a friend, nothing more. You are doing her a favour…just as a …Oh, my God!”

The visit to my weekly comforter was more desperate than usual. I had a struggle to ejaculate, and she asked me if I was all right. I lied and said I was “just feeling a bit off colour.”

I found it hard to concentrate on my work, and in defending a client on a minor charge in the local magistrate’s court, the magistrate had to coax me on a point I should have seen for myself. It was that very point that got my client off the hook, so to speak, much to the annoyance of the police sergeant who was prosecuting.

I saw and heard nothing from Kym apart from a telephone call to inform me of the date and time of the baptism.
On the day of the baptism we all met outside the church. The congregation, so I was informed, was considerably larger than usual. Kym might not have many friends around the town, but she did have many people wondering about her. I suspected that a lot of them came to the baptism out of curiosity.

The baptismal party consisted of Arnold and Janice White, Emily, George Gardener and his wife, myself and of course, Kym and the twins.

Arnold was holding one of the babies. As they were identical twins I did not know which was which, but spying me, Arnold promptly planked the child in my arms saying, “Ah, here’s the fella. She’s all yours for the duration.”

I found myself holding Jessica or Tania. I didn’t know which. The child lay in my arms giving me the penetrating look I had observed before. “Wonder what the little blighter’s thinking,” I wondered.

We entered the church and were conducted to the front pew. It was a bit too conspicuous for my liking.

The service began and was not as boring as I thought it would be. The vicar or parson, or whatever he was, seemed to talk a lot of sense. I noted that when he prayed, he did not go about asking God for a lot of favours or special treatment. He asked that we might become aware of who are hurting in our community, and we be given the insights and ability to help them. Atheist or not, I liked that.

When it came to the baptism all seven of us plus the parson, gathered round the font. Only Kym and Emily had to say anything, and the rest of us were there just as friends, except I was a baby holder.

The parson, seeing me holding the baby, looked a bit confused. Kym whispered something to him, and glancing at me he said, “Ah. Perhaps, Mr.Barclay, you would give the baby to Mrs.Carter for the ceremony.”

I handed over the child to Emily and the baptism proceeded.

I had half expected that the babies would cry during the baptism, especially when having water splashed over their heads. As it was, they behaved like little angels, and as each child was held up before the congregation there were female oohs and aahs.

A table had been booked at the pub for a celebratory meal to which the baptismal party, including the parson, repaired after the service. Red and white wine was available, and I noted that the parson enjoyed himself hugely.

When the meal was eaten the party continued to sit around the table finishing the wine, and Arnold came over to me and whispered, “Come and have one at the bar with me.”

The bar was nearly empty, and Arnold ordered a double whisky for himself and a brandy for me. While I sipped on my brandy he got through a couple more doubles, and having already had a fair amount of red wine, he grew tipsy and took on what I decided was an officer’s mess way of speaking.

“Don’t like to be nosy, old boy, but feel I must ask. Are you and Kym…you know…are you er…well, are you er…intimate?”
“Good lord no! I’m just her solicitor and accountant. We are quite good friends, but that’s all.”

“Ah! Yer see, Janice and I, we notice she talks about yer a lot. Love her heaps, old boy, the wife and I. Went a bit wild yer know…when she was a teenager. Probably my fault. Bit strict…army discipline and all that…see it now. Follow me?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely girl at heart…very bright too…just went off the track, you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Beautiful kids, ain’t they?”

“Yes, lovely.”

“Been badly hurt, old boy…very badly. Would have shot the bastard, but not worth going ter jail for…see what I mean?”

“Er…yes.”

“Don’t want to see her hurt again. Learnt her lesson, but nice looking girl, lots of money…”

“Yes, could be vulnerable, but she seems very independent and capable.”

“Oh, quite, old boy, quite. Hope you don’t mind me goin on like this, just thought I’d ask. Well set up young fella like you…could understand if you and she…but as you say, just friends.”

“Yes, just friends.”

“Glad she’s got a nice friend like you. Another brandy?”

“No thanks. I think we ought to be getting back to the party?”

“Of course. Thanks fer listenin’ old chap.”

We went back to the others who were on the point of breaking up. Kym came over to me and kissed my cheek. Thank you for coming, Aden.”

“I enjoyed it.”

“Did you really?”

Her eyes were on me, the truth would out. I considered for a moment. “Yes, I did, thank you for inviting me.”

Kym gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

Mrs.Gardener was the only one who had stuck to non-alcoholic drinks, and Kym had been very moderate, so they now had the babies. I got bold and kissed each child on the forehead, and bade the company goodbye and left.

“Well, you can’t say you haven’t been warned, Aden,” I told myself. “Her parents have had me lined up as a potential husband, or at least, a lover. I bet the others have similar thoughts. Better listen to your father’s warning.”

I made up my mind that it had to stop. I would avoid Kym and her brood in future.

Fate dictated otherwise.

Arriving at the office on the Wednesday after the baptism I looked at the appointment list placed on my desk by Anne, our secretary/receptionist. Glancing down the list my eyes glued to one name: “Mrs.White. 1.30 p.m.”

“Oh God, what now?”

I got through my appointments and other work with difficulty that morning. I was so tense I could not eat my lunch. 1.30 precisely Anne put her head round my office door.

“Mrs.White, Aden.”

“Show her in please.”

Kym is one of those horrible people who can wear old rags and make them look as if they are fresh from a top fashion house. She looked like that now.

“Hello, Aden.”

Good afternoon, Kym.” (“Damn her, why does she have to look so good?”) “Sit down, Kym.”

(“Oh God, why did she have to cross her beautiful legs like that?”)

“They’ve started work on the stables.”

“Ah.” (“Its business, just business!”).

“I need to start thinking about buying horses, so I thought I might see how I stand financially.”

“I see.” My fingers flicked over the computer keyboard, bringing up her records. Well, when you pay for all the renovation work, and assuming there have been no additional costs, you will have reduced your readily available capital considerably. I have no idea what horses cost, or how many you want to buy, but my guess is that you wont have enough ready money to cover the purchase.”

“Should I cash in some of my investments?”

“That would be a pity. They are very sound investments, and while they don’t return big dividends, they do give more than bank interest on a loan. My suggestion is that we seek a bank loan. Of course, they would have to be assured that the business is sound.”

“What about if I put up the cottages as collateral?”

“Yes, if you feel sure the risk is worth taking.”
And so we went on for nearly an hour. It was all very business like with nothing personal entering into the discussion. To my shame, I was so concerned to keep Kym at bay that I did not even ask about her welfare or that of the twins.

We ended up with what I hoped would be a satisfactory arrangement financially, and I rose to say goodbye.

Kym shook my hand and my stomach went into knots again, and my groin tingled.

“I hope we shall see something of you soon, Aden.”

“Er…yes.” I assumed that what she meant by “we”, was her and the twins.”

Negotiations with the bank were out of my hands, so until Kym got the loan and it was handed over to me, there seemed no further reason for contact, at least, for some time.

When she left, there was slight trace of her delicate perfume left in the air.

The loan came through very quickly and was paid into Kym’s working capital account.

Six weeks went by without further face to face contact. There were a few telephone calls to tie up odd pieces of business, nothing more, until early in the seventh week after her visit. She telephoned.

“Aden, the State Symphony Orchestra is coming to Mine City to give a couple of concerts. Mummy and daddy have sent me two tickets for the performance on Friday this week. Would you come with me? They’re playing a piece you said was your favourite.”

“Yes, I’ll come.”

“Lovely. It starts at eight, so if I pick you up about seven, will that be all right?”

“Fine.”

“Until Friday, then.”

She rang off.

There seemed to be two Adens battling away inside me, the trouble was, I didn’t know which was the demon and which the angel.

“What the hell are you thinking of, going to a concert with her?”

“I’m only going for the music.”

“Liar. You want to see her again, don’t you?”

“No. I’m going because I shall get a free ticket.”

“After all the resolutions you made about not seeing her socially again! You’re mad!”

“All right, I enjoy her company, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Of course, you won’t be noticing how pretty she is, and you won’t enjoy her perfume or remember how she looked when she fed the babies, will you?”

“Certainly not.”