The Woman at Stable Cottages

“Double liar. You are weak, Aden Barclay. The boy who could go it alone, hah! The one who didn’t want any entanglements with females. She’s got you hooked, old son, well and truly hooked.”

“No she hasn’t. She just wants me to go with her because she knows I like music.”

“Oh yeah!”

So, it went on for the rest of the week. Many times, I resolved not to think about Kym, but she kept exploding into my head. My comfort lady asked again what was wrong; “Your not really with me, are you? What is it? Have you fallen in love or something?”

“Certainly not.”

“Seems very like love to me. Come on tell me who she is. Or have you discovered you’re really gay?” She laughed.

“I am not gay, as you should know, and I’m not in love.”

“Some blokes like the best of both worlds.”

“Well I don’t.”

“You won’t tell me who she is, so I’ll tell you. It’s that woman at stable cottages, isn’t it? And don’t bother denying it, half the town have got you and her hooked up.”

“What!”

“This is a small town, Aden, people pick up things. Even the tiniest incident or hint is enough to get them speculating. If you didn’t want people to think you and her were getting together, you should never have turned up holding the baby at the baptism.”

“Let’s close the subject shall we?”

“If you say so. Come on, let’s go to bed and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

She was right; I wasn’t really with her. When I ejaculated into her, it was not she, but a fantasy of Kym. I began to see myself as a hopelessly lost soul.

Friday night Kym arrived promptly at seven. As I entered the car, the first thing I noticed was her delicate perfume. I forced my accountant self to come to the surface and thought, “Bet that perfume cost a fortune.”

Unfortunately, my accountant self fled when she leaned over to kiss my cheek and say, “Thank you for coming with me, Aden.”

“Who’s looking after the twins?” I asked.

“Emily. She’s staying over night.”

“What about…er…the, er, feeding.”

She laughed. “I fed them before I left and there are a couple of bottles prepared just in case.” She laughed again; “I didn’t expect you to be so interested.”

“Well, I just thought…you know…”

We let the subject drop.

It was only about a half-hour drive to Mine City and the conversation, such as it was, focused on her stables and the two horses she had purchased.

“Of course,” she said, “I shall need at least a dozen horses, and then someone to help with them and the stable cleaning and so on. Perhaps you might ask Mr.Willow if he knows of any suitable person? They can be male or female.”

“I’ll do that,” I said hoarsely, and thought, “Why is my throat so dry and my stomach all tensed up?”

We were a little early for the concert so we hung around in the foyer for a while. The first person I clapped eyes on, or rather, he clapped eyes on Kym and I, was Phineas. He had come to the concert with his wife.

He bounded over to us, eyes twinkling; he introduced his wife to Kym, then said, “ Nice to see you two here.” He turned to Kym and winked, “Until you came along I used to think that this boy was not making friends half enough. Glad I sent him to meet you that first day. Very suitable, very suitable, eh?”

Kym smiled and said, “I’m glad you sent him.”

I decided to redirect the conversation and asked him about a suitable person to work with Kym’s horses.

“Think about it over the weekend, old son, let you know on Monday. Better get into the auditorium.”

Mrs.Willow sidled up to me and whispered, “Haven’t seen her before, she’s lovely, Aden, you’re a lucky boy.”

The State Orchestra is excellent, and the conductor hurled them into the overture that happened to be Beethoven’s Leonora Number Three. Having nearly brought the roof down with the energy of the performance, the concert was off to a good start.

The Sibelius Violin Concerto followed the overture. During the course of this work, my hand brushed against Kym’s as it rested on the armrest, I let my hand remain on hers, and it was not rejected. After a while I felt her fingers entwining with mine. My blood pressure seemed to rise, and I could barely concentrate on the music.

During the interval, we saw several other Paradise Valley people, who seemed to give us ”knowing glances.” Some of them had never met Kym, so there were introductions to be made. Phineas did not approach us again, but I saw him twinkling at us a few times.

While I was getting a couple of drinks at the bar one of the newly introduced men came up and dug his elbow into my ribs.

“Lucky sod,” he chortled, “Some blokes get all the luck.”

So, it seemed that everyone had Kym and I paired off. During the second half of the concert we did the finger twining again, and the thought came to me, “Aden, you’ve been getting yourself all stirred up about this woman, and people are assuming all sorts of things about our relationship, but what is Kym thinking and feeling?”

Neither I, nor the rest of the people who had us as good as married or as lovers, seemed to consider that side of the equation. Suppose Kym was merely being friendly? Suppose she was simply expressing her gratitude for the help I had given her? Handholding did not have to indicate a lifetime commitment, and many people kissed each other on the cheek.

Perhaps I had been getting myself in a state over nothing! The thought did not help. It left me more confused than ever about my own feelings.

The conversation during the drive home centred around the concert, and Kym broached the idea that we might go and see the next performance by the “Mines City Theatre Company.” I stalled on this one, saying something about having to see what my workload looked like.

Kym dropped me outside the two bed roomed cottage I rented. As I was about to get out of the car she kissed my cheek again and said, “I have enjoyed being with you, Aden. Good night.”

I got out and she drove off. I watched the red taillight until she turned the corner of the street. When it disappeared, I felt a sudden hollowness inside me. I entered the cottage that for the first time seemed very empty.

Monday morning Phineas came into my office with the names of a couple of girls whom he said were “Horse fanatics.”

“Should suit Mrs.White nicely.”

“He sat down and looked at me penetratingly for a few seconds, then said, “Suppose we’ll be hearing wedding bells soon? Good idea, old son, good idea.”

I put on a haughty manner and replied, “If you are referring to Kym and I we just happen to be friends.”

He gave me another stare. “Are you out of your mind, old son. There’s fifty blokes and more in this town who’d give their right arms to climb into her bed. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it! If you haven’t then it makes me wonder what you do think about.”

I felt my anger beginning to rise and boss or not, I snapped back, “If you must know, I’m concentrating on getting that partnership you talk about.”

“No need to get upset, old son. Didn’t mean to interfere, but with a gorgeous girl like that in tow I took it for granted that you’d be…you know…even with the babies…I mean, she’d be quite catch.”

Phineas was not easily abashed, but he looked it now. I cooled down and spoke less aggressively.

“Phineas, everybody in this town, it seems, has Kym and I getting married or becoming lovers. As I say, we are just friends. I have no intention of catching Kym, and I don’t think she is out to catch me.”

“You know best old son. Sorry I spoke out turn.”

He rose and got as far as the door, then turned, “You’re a bloody fool if you don’t try and catch her.”

Before I could protest, he fled back to his office.

I got Anne to telephone Kym to pass on the names Phineas had given me, and tried to settle down to work. It was not easy.

There was another long gap of time and no contact with Kym. I think it must have been about three weeks. Then one Thursday afternoon Anne put her head round my door.

“Emily Carter is here, she’d like to see you, have you got time?”

I felt a little alarmed, wondering if something was wrong out at the cottages, so I told Anne to send Emily in.

She came in looking very huffy. She did not wait to be asked to sit down; she simply sat and looked at me aggressively.

“Now then, Aden Barclay,” she said portentously, “It’s time someone had a word with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. What do you think you’re playing at?”

“What are you talking about, Emily?”

“What are you talking about, Emily,” she mimicked. “Don’t you play the innocent with me Aden Barclay.”

“Please, Emily, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. If I offended you in…”

“Offended me? Me!” she almost shrieked at me. “What about that lovely woman, eh?”

I decided not to pretend I didn’t know whom she referred to.

“You mean Kym.”

“Ah, he’s woken up,” she said to the ceiling. “About bloody time to you…you…you philanthropist.”

Put in context I assumed she meant “Philanderer.”

“You play around with that girl’s emotions, then don’t see her or speak to her for weeks. What’s your game, Aden Barclay?”

I decided on a dignified manner despite the quivering in my stomach and heart pounding in my chest.

“I do not have a game, Emily, and certainly not in relation to Mrs.White. She and I are merely friends. There is nothing more to it than that.”

She addressed the ceiling again; “Oh Gawd, does he really not know?”

“Know what, Emily?”

“Do I have to tell you? Been to university haven’t you? Pity they don’t teach some common sense along with all that other rubbish.”

I was angry now. “Emily, you will either tell me plainly what you mean, or get out of my office.”

“Oh, I’ll tell you plainly enough, and it’ll be a pleasure to get out of your office, Mr.Barclay.”

Threateningly, “Emily…”

“All right, all right. If you want it straight, here it is; Gawd knows why, but the poor thing loves you.”

A long silence followed. Emily looked exhausted by her verbal efforts, and I was in a tangle of emotions.

Finally, I managed to croak out, “How do you know that, Emily?”

From a shriek, her voice descended to a barely audible whisper.

“Don’t I see her day after day? Don’t she keep asking, ‘Do you think Aden will call today?’ ‘Do you think he’ll telephone?’ ‘Why do you think he’s avoiding me?’ ‘Have I done or said something to offend him?’ ‘I’ve taken the initiative each time in our friendship, but afterwards he just seems to ignore me’.”

“D’yer think I don’t know when a woman’s in love? And that poor dear with the twins, trying to get her businesses started, and my guess, someone’s given her a bad time, and now you. Don’t you think she’s had enough?”

“Have I been that bad, Emily?”

She softened towards me. “Aden, you’ve got the chance of a lovely woman – not just to look at – she’s good inside.”

“I know,” I said.

“Then what’s wrong, Aden? The babies, is that what it is? You don’t want to have someone else’s kids around? They’re hers too, you know, and they’re the sweetest little things.”

“No, no, it’s not the twins.”

“Look, Aden, if you don’t love her, then at least go and talk to her. I mean, if you’re like some people, all wrapped up in work with no interest outside – by the way, I know about you and that woman you visit – go and tell her. I don’t mean come blurting out with it, but see her and let your ideas drop into the conversation. She’s a clever woman; she’ll catch on. And if you don’t want her I hope she gets someone more appreciative than you, and then you can suffer about him getting into her bed.”

She rose. “I’ve said what I came here to say. What you do about it is up to you, but even if you don’t love her, at least be kind to her. It’s a bloody shame though, lovely girl like that with so much love to give – and who wants to receive.”

I rose and extended my hand. We shook hands across the desk.

“Thank you, Emily. You’ve really put me in the picture and made me see myself and what I’ve been doing to Kym. I promise I shall make amends.”

She smiled. “I knew you weren’t all bad.” She departed.

I sat at my desk staring into space. “Love?” I’d been “in love” many times at university, but that was the sort of love that said, “I want to fuck that girl.” It was infatuation and it didn’t last.

But Love with a capital L. That is something different. Did I want that? Did I want to give that? To be committed, to not only bed, but to care for that person, to share their good times and their bad? To be there for them no matter what?

If once I decided to love, and such love must be a conscious decision, that is what it would mean to me. Perhaps that was why I had been holding back from Kym? It was a sort of fear of self – fear of the unqualified nature of my love once I decided to give it.

Did I want to give this kind of love to Kym, and with Kym, the twins? Did Kym want that love from me?

I thought of our relationship. A few pecks on the cheek initiated by Kym. Holding hands like a couple of lovesick teenagers in the concert. The soft warmth of her breast as my hand accidentally brushed against it when handing her the baby.

I did not know the answers to my questions at that moment, but I was going to damn well find them.

Emily had, perhaps unknowingly, hit the mark when she asked, “What’s your game, Aden Barclay.” I had been playing games – games with my own emotions, and apparently with Kym’s. It was time to call a halt.

I picked up the telephone and pressed in Kym’s number. I got her answering machine.

“Aden Barclay, Kym. I’d like to come and see you this evening. Would you call back and let me know if that’s okay?”

I rang off feeling discontented. There is always something unsatisfactory about speaking to an answering machine rather than a flesh and blood person.

I tried to work, but as usual, when Kym loomed large, my concentration flagged. I was on edge for her return call, and when by five o’clock she had not answered, I had a feeling of desperation.

I was about to give up when the telephone rang. I grabbed it.

“Aden Barclay.”

“Aden, sorry I didn’t get back to you before. I was out in the stables and we don’t have the extension on there yet. You want to come out this evening?”

“If you’re free Kym.”

“Yes, but you won’t be able to see the stables or the horses. We haven’t got the power out there yet, either.”

“I’m not coming to see the stables or the horses, Kym. I’ve got something important I want to say to you, and I want it to be face to face.”

I sensed her hesitating, then, “That sounds ominous, Aden. Am I broke, or something?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s personal.”

Another pause. “I see. Well, what about eight o’clock. The twins will be asleep by then and I will have finished clearing up.

“Thanks, Kym. See you at eight.”

I put the telephone down. My heart was racing and I felt slightly sick. What was I going to say? How could I open the conversation? All my fine legal training and accountants jargon was of no help. Again, Emily had been right. If only the university had taught me “common sense.”

Once more, I remembered my father’s advice on not being hooked by a woman, and then I gave an inner chuckle. He was a fine one to talk. He got hooked and seemed to be very happy to be landed by my mother.”

I went home and tried to eat a wretched meal of tinned spaghetti, but I didn’t seem to be able to swallow it. I showered and changed into some casual clothing, then tried to watch the news on television. I saw and heard none of it. My mind was focused on Kym and my meeting with her.

The time came to set off, and I drove with a buzzing noise in my head. I think I was tenser than when I used to sit for university exams.

Kym must have heard my car draw up, or was watching for it, because she had the door open before I got to it.

“It is lovely to see you Aden,” I got my kiss on the cheek. “You have me nervous. Are you going to give me some bad news?"

“I don’t know, Kym, I honestly don’t know.”

She led me into the kitchen that now had a couple of small armchairs on either side of the wood stove, and indicated that I should sit.

“Aden, you look so pale, what is it? Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“No, at least, not the sort of trouble I think you mean.”

“What sort, then? Tell me and I’ll help if I can.”

Damn the woman! Why did she have to be good as well as beautiful?

“It’s about you and me, Kym.”

“Us?”

“Have you heard the stories going round the town, linking us?”

“Yes. Emily likes to keep me informed,” She gave her throaty chuckle. “Is it bothering you?”

“Yes…er…no, well, sort of.”

“You don’t seem to be sure whether it’s ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

I screwed up my courage.

“Kym, I’ve been lectured by your father, by Phineas, and this afternoon by Emily. I get all sorts of sly hints, nods, winks and I’ve almost been congratulated on our engagement or marriage or becoming lovers, I’m not sure which. I keep saying we are just friends, but nobody seems to believe me. More to the point, they don’t want to believe me.”

Kym became very serious. “I see. What did daddy have to say to you about me?”

I gave her a brief summary of his bar side lecture, pointing out that he had been most concerned that she should not be hurt again.

“Did he tell you why or how I was hurt?”

“No, although he did say you would tell me if and when you wanted to.”

“Do you want to know, Aden?”

“Only if you want to tell me…I mean…I have no right to…”

“Why would you want to know, Aden?”

She had caught me nicely. Why indeed would I want to know? I was not the scandal collecting type, always assuming there was something scandalous to collect, and so why?

Kym looked deep into me with her penetrating eyes.

”I can say why I would tell you – why I want to tell you. I want to tell you because I want to be honest with you, because I don’t want to hide anything from you. I need you to know me as I am, and what we all are is made up largely from what we have been and done. I will tell you what hurt me so deeply, because I love you, Aden.”

I was stunned by her openness. I would never have asked her if she loved me because a declaration of love must be given without the slightest pressure or duress. It must be freely and voluntarily declared. Kym had done exactly that.

“Do you still want me to tell you my tale of woe, Aden?” She had said this cynically.

I said, “If you want to.”

“Damn it, Aden, why do you always have to be a lawyer. Can’t you give a straight answer, to a straight question?”

“Tell me.”

“I make one proviso. When I have told you, if you must, have contempt for me, reject me, but do not pity me. I would prefer that you understand, but no pity.”

“Very well.”

“Do you remember when you thought it odd that my married name was the same as my unmarried name?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, my married name was different. I use the Mrs. title for the sake of the twins, but my married name was (she mentioned a name I thought I recognised).”

“I seem to know that name, but can’t place it.”

“You should know it, he’s one of this country’s multi-millionaires.”

Then it hit me. He was best known for crude but effective television advertisements. The sort that repels, but remains in the memory, which I suppose means they do what they are intended to do. He had his fingers in many other financial pies, and was known as someone who would do anything for money and power.

“You were married to him?”

“Yes.”

I was at a loss to know what to say, but Kym continued.

“I met him soon after I had graduated from my interior decorator’s course. His was the first house I was contracted to “do over” as he called it. I was young, and as daddy told you, rebellious. In my teenage years, I revolted against the discipline that daddy tried to impose.”

“I met this man, rich, famous, and he seemed a free spirit. He did and said what he wanted to. He rode roughshod over anyone who stood in his way. I was impressed, I even thought he was wonderful, the sort of person I thought I wanted to be, not bound by all that old fashioned moral and ethical nonsense. Just take what you want by any means you can.”