Village Bride
Hargreaves prodded his friend up the garden path, the gravel shifting unnaturally under their boots in slow, spiraling waves:
Dont bottle it now, Collier. Weve gone over everything. Shes waiting for your first move, mate.
Colliera tall, ungainly man with a woebegone expression and the sort of blue eyes you find in faded church windowssniffed, wiped his nose on his coat sleeve, and stepped forward into a thickening mist of uncertainty.
Lately, everything in his life had been peculiarly dreamlike: the sudden arrival of Andrew Hargreaves, barging in with forced camaraderie, and this mysterious bride-to-be hed wittered on about endlessly. Even Colliers own decision to agree to meet her seemed not quite his own.
The porch boards whimpered underfoot, threatening to plunge him into an unseen abyss. Collier hurried into the hallway, confronted by a heavy, oaken door adorned with a rather baroque iron handle that twisted like a serpent in a fairytale.
The door hesitated, opening only with a reluctant sigh, like a kiss posthumously assigned. With a rusty screech, it yielded, and Collier was immediately assaulted by the oddest bouquet: frankincense and melting wax, threaded with juniper and something citrusa memory of orange peel. Behind it all, a ghost of chocolate, and the cleanness of womens soap clung to the air.
The lady stood with her back to him, by the far window, a perfectly carved silhouette arresting Colliers already uneven breath.
Her torso was an inverted triangle, wide-shouldered yet delicate, neck slender and graceful, held by a wide leather belt cinched at the waist, her lower body draped in a flowing skirt that melted into the shadows.
When at last she turned, Collier briefly forgot the shapes of words. Before him stood a woman of about thirty-five, schoolmistress-stern, pale and severe, lips a minuscule ribbon, but eyes enormousgreen and wild as emeralds lost in snow. Within them sat a storm of ice-cold fury.
Thin, tense, she eyed him much as a songbird does a lurking cat.
Collier licked his dry lips and choked out a greeting. The womans gaze, like nettles in December, cooled him instantly.
He felt a shove at his back.
What are you frozen for? Do something! hissed Hargreaves, shuffling forward in cringing obsequiousness.
Afternoon, Elspeth! You recall I told you about my mate, Collier? The city widower?
The womans eyes flashed, nearly singeing Collier. He remembered an indomitable character from the TV dramasCatherine Garrowby, he thought, played in the old days by Sinead Mulraine. Hed once fallen for a woman just like that.
I think Ill excuse myself, he muttered, slinking doorwards.
What? Youre not even stopping for tea? No, mate, not happeningnot after all this! Hargreaves feigned outrage.
Elspeth scorched Collier with another wave of disdain, turning away with a crisp toss of auburn ringlets.
Lets just end this now then, she declared. Hes not to my tastelook at that nose, and hes far too old! And besides, a doctor? Both of you, out!
Head tilted in a snub so defined even her curls rolled off her shoulder in protest.
Colliers peculiar paralysis melted away, replaced by a trembling fit.
Was it absolutely necessary to say that while I was here? he blurted, aghast.
He would not recall how he staggered through the lanes back to the cottage hed inherited from his grandfather. His heart thudded, steps numb, as the unfamiliar womans image crowded out the village haze.
Dont tell me you werent impressed? Hargreaves scoffed later, sprawling across Colliers battered kitchen chair.
Collier grunted.
What does it matter? Why didnt you warn me shes such a snob?
I thought shed be your type, his friend laughed. Go on, admit itshes a looker, isnt she?
Collier whipped round.
Lets just forget that fiasco. Id rather focus on the ducks. We wanted to get a bit of shooting in, right?
He turned to chores. The cottage was more than half a century old, but solidpopular with Londoners craving the countryside. The river teemed with trout, the woods with berries and pheasant. Savvy townsfolk bought up every crumbling place, to hide from summer.
Yet, despite his notices and estate agents, Colliers house never shifted. When tangled up in hospital intrigue and losing his wife, hed fled the city, finding solace in his granddads old place.
Hed hardly settled before Hargreaves, stuck to him like stinging nettle, started conjuring up this arranged meeting.
Shes a catch, old Elspeth Crowther, Hargreaves would croon with a sappy grin. Arrived three years ago, lost her husband, never let another soul closewhat a waste, if you ask me.
Collier slammed a tin kettle on the hob.
Enough about her! Off you trot, Andrewyou do have a wife, dont you?
Maureen? Oh, let her wait, grinned Hargreaves. At her seventeen stone, shes happier sitting and waiting. Wouldnt chase me if she tried.
But Collier could not shake the image of Elspeth Crowther, stamped in his mind like a thumbprint.
Elspeths certainly a witchbarely had you through the door before the insults started. Whats her problem with your nose, anyhow? And oldyoure barely five years her senior.
Collier, pouring tea, straightened.
Im forty-three. That makes her thirty-eight? She doesnt look it.
Ha! So you do think shes a bit of all right?
Collier sighed, lost for an answer. Hargreaves blathered on:
She probably got the wrong ideasomeone must have twisted your words around the village.
What words? Colliers eyes widened.
You know, what you told me: that youd settle for anyoneso long as she could light a fire, chop logs, cook up a pudding. And never mind if she was crooked or built like a rugby prop.
Collier froze, horror-struck.
You didnt, Andrew. You didnt tell everyone Id said that?
Hargreaves averted his gaze.
People talk, Alan. Someone said you used to be a doctor, got struck off…not my fault.
Collier marched past him and showed him the door.
Go. Dont let me see you again.
Devotee
Soon, Colliers cottage became a waypoint for every local widow or single lady, delivering milk or pies with a shy glint. But only one, Katherine Telforda short, round-faced woman in clothes too tight, bodice heavingwas persistent.
Her overtures, all corsets and clever eyelash-batting, left Collier unmoved. Hed seen her kind before.
Elspeth, by contrast, he bumped into while tucking novels under his arm at the library or nipping into the village shop.
But Telford was unrelenting, dogging his every step, living two doors down and always popping up, clutching a shopping bag, trailing him into the sunlight as if it were all a dance choreographed in a dream.
Soon, villagers began winking and calling them a couple.
Alan, nipping out to the shop? Jolly good! Ill just tag alongneed bread and milk too, Katherine would coo, latching onto his arm.
Inside, Collier couldnt help but think shed do better on cucumbers than bread. But of course, such thoughts were best kept silent.
So, whyd you leave the hospital? she pried.
Collier pressed his lips together.
Because I wanted to. Medicines wearied me.
Sorry, Alandidnt mean to pry. Just… The village clinics short-staffed.
Im fine for money, he replied.
Katherines grin widened as she leaned in closer.
***
Katherines limpet attentions bore odd fruit. Elspeth noticed the pair and, oddly, grew downcast.
The Conversation
Tired of Hargreaves and Telfords pursuit, Collier slid out under nights cover through the veg patch, shadows swallowing his footsteps.
He arrived at the one house he couldnt banish from his thoughts. Smoke of frankincense drifted, and the kitchen windows light revealed a cabinet carved in fantastic leafy shapes.
Suddenly, Collier frozethere werent any footsteps, but he knew she was behind him. Her scent, unmistakable, settled round him like mist.
A sharp voice sliced the darkness:
Are you spying on me?
No, Collier surfaced from his daze, stepping away from the fence. He saw the bold triangle of her shoulders.
Something strange rose up inside himan anxious, syrupy pulse like church bells in fog.
Elspeth stalked closer.
You got the wrong address. Katherines house is just down the road.
Collier smiled, nervously.
This is childish. Arent we both grownand you, of all peopleerudite and sensibleshould see…
Oh? Should see whatthat Im just a village simpleton? Struggling for words, Doctor?
He spread his hands in defeat.
Wasnt what I meantlet it pass.
Care to explain why I ought to go to Kate?
You said yourself you needed a woman in the houseany woman.
Collier tried to smile, failed.
You believed blabbermouth Hargreaves instead of talking to me.
Their odd, electric conversation swept him away. Elspeth, too, seemed compelled.
What I said hardly mattersits actions, not words, that count. But, for you, Im too ugly and too old.
What did you expect to hear from a woman meant to be chained to your cooker?
I wanted nothing.
Collier surrendered at last.
I was invitedI showed up.
Like a lamb. So who summoned you tonight?
Obvious, isnt it? You fascinate me. But youre… out of my league.
In the spill of kitchen light, Collier saw Elspeth tauten, her pretty head poised.
I know how men see me, she answered slowly. All of them. And I suppose youre not the snob I took you for. Still, you want a housekeepernot a woman.
He noticed her shiverautumn was coming early. Wordlessly, he set his coat around her shoulders and gestured.
Such a lovely nightmay I walk you along the river?
She sniffed and stalked on ahead without a word.
They wandered the riverbank, talking until the misty dawn. Conversation tumbled, one topic breeding another, until Larkspur pinked the sky.
You must be freezing, Elspeth finally said. Come in for a coffee?
Collier clutched his own arms, surprised to find himself trembling. Hed been so absorbed hed missed the cold.
What do you, a city boy, see in life here? she asked unexpectedly.
He smiled, lips barely upturning.
Its simple. I feel free. After my wifes death, her family watched me like a hawkId had enough.
What happened to your late wife? Elspeth pressed.
She… was too beautiful, like you. Too many men noticed her.
And? Elspeth pressed, frowning.
Collier retreated inward, remembering sharp things best forgotten.
Her heart failedcouldnt take the strain, he managed, finally.
My condolences, Elspeth said quietly. She wanted to ask what strain, but sleep was wresting her away. She yawned, nodding.
Collier dared kiss her hand in farewell, heart wild.
Back home, sleep eluded him. How could it bethis remarkable, sharp-witted, dazzling woman had said yes?
He was almost dreaming on the sofa when an abrupt knocking began.
Alan! Got your milk for you! Katherines high-pitched voice leaked through the letterbox.
Collier groaned, burying his head in his pillow, seeing her sour face pop up in the window, glaring. He lay silent, breathing softly, until at last she disappeared, and he drifted into sleep.
Marriage
It was whispered for weeks that the outsider Doctor Collier would surely wed Katherine Telforduntil the shameless Elspeth Crowther swooped in, making Colliers decision clear. What village Kate could ever compete with the beauty in the manor?
Collier and Elspeth slipped to the registry office in Midhurst and, without a fuss, made it official.
On Elspeths finger sparkled a ring heavy with carats. She was lucky indeed: her new husband owned a sturdy house, a healthy bank account, and a city flat.
While Katherine gnawed at memories, Elspeth basked in her new marriage.
Collier treated Elspeth like porcelain, showering her with gifts, serving breakfast in bed, erasing all that came before her. They agreed on village life. Elspeth had no interest in the city; Collier wanted to forget its brickwork and smog.
But soon after the wedding, Collier found odd cracks in the story of his wife.
Drama
No one in the village said a word; Collier had to piece it together.
Now and then, a boisterous young man would appearRobert Finch, twenty-eight, the sort who appears in glossy magazines, visiting his grandparents riverside house. He always arrived with a new car and a new, beautiful girlfriend.
Elspeth would change on his arrival, growing irritable and distracted, peering out the window. Shed vanish for hours in the woods.
This cycle repeated every few months, Collier noting patternsuntil, keeping track, he realized…
Elspeth, why are you following Robert Finch? he asked one evening.
She turned, confused.
Me?
Yes, you. Hargreaves told me there was something between you and Robert before. You wanted to marry him. His family stopped it; youre nine years older.
Elspeth looked at him oddly.
Collier now despised them both for the whole miserable muddle.
Did you marry me to spite him? he demanded.
She wilted, eyes dropping. The stormy, outrageous woman hed first met was gone.
No, Alan. I wanted to make myself forget himwith you.
Collier recalled catching the pair in the woodsRobert, miserable on a stump, Elspeth twisting her hands, both raw-eyed with regret. Without a word, Collier understood.
Robert cried out, Why marry him?
Somewhere, a rook shrieked, and Elspeth replied, voice carried like a curse, So youd stay away from me!
Collier watched Robert try to kiss her. That was enough. He called for his wife, dragging her home.
I saw and heard everything, Collier said bluntly. Is it truly over? Or does he still grip your heart?
Through tears, she struggled to answer.
It doesnt matterif he wont stand up to his parents for me, he isnt worth my soul.
Collier stared at her.
If he comes tomorrow, ready to run awaywhat then?
Id… stay with you, she whispered.
Collier saw how hard the words came.
What proof do I have of that?
She turned, unresponsive.
***
Robert Finch kept picking Elspeths wounds, appearing more and more. Eventually, bold as brass, he started parking outside the Colliers cottage.
Bowled over by suspicion, Collier watched at the window, nerves shrilling.
Elspeth shriveled, shrinking to a wraith. She tried to leave, but Collier always found her, coaxed her to stay.
For three days, Roberts car idled outside.
Finally, what Collier dreaded came to passRobert stormed in, beautiful face dark, shouting:
Ive had enough! Elspeth, come out!
Collier didnt recognize his own voice:
Young man, please leave my house. Elspeth is my wife. She isnt going anywhere.
Robert stuck his nose in the air.
Enough! Shell be mine nowa quick divorce is nothing. Shes loved me for years. Youre just here for spite. Old man, just look at meand look at yourself. Move aside!
Robert scoured the house, finally finding Elspeth in the bedroom, huddled.
Elspeth! he cried with joy, but when she looked at himand then away, emptilyhe halted.
Collier moved to his wife, touching her gently.
Whats wrong with her? Robert asked, recoiling at the scent of urine.
Collier shrugged.
Youve driven her mad. If you want to marry herstart by taking her to a doctor.
Robert trembled, speechless.
She seemed normal at first. But living here, I saw she wasnt right. Shouldve knownwhat young beauty chooses exile like this? Shell get better in a few days.
Collier swept up a broken cup.
Her spells come more often. I worry. Id take her to hospital, but labels cling. But younothing frightens you, right? Go on then, take her. Got a car, havent you?
What sort of hospital? Robert asked.
Any with a psychiatrist, Collier replied.
Robert covered his face, stricken.
But what do I say? Im nothing to heryoure her husband.
Robert, head bowed, walked out.
Collier watched him from the kitchen windowRobert in his car, pounding the wheel, sobbing. The engine ran half an hour before the car drove away. Robert Finch never returned.
Epilogue
In whispered, drowsy tones, the village learned Colliers wife went odd for a timedidnt leave the cottage, wouldnt get out of bed. Collier told all, Shes illplease, say nothing.
Katherine Telford later recounted how, one night, shed heard Elspeth screaming, seen Collier dragging her sobbing, suitcase in hand, back indoors.
Shes not herself, Collier said. Please, lets not air dirty linen.
Months passed before Collier brought Elspeth into the light again. She was thin, hair cropped boyish, childlike. She barely left his side.
Gradually, some spark returned, sluggish as a dawn tide. She birthed a daughterthen a son the following year. But she was changedquieter, vacant-eyed, slightly adrift.
Now, Collier ruled the home. Where he pointed, she dropped everything.
Marriage broke the fierce, proud woman, turning her to a mournful shadow.
As for Collier, he too grew wilder, beard and whiskers thickening, more bear than man.
Old Hargreaves would still come by, dragging Alan fishing or on a pointless shoot.
So what kind of doctor were you? he once asked.
Collier yawned, crossed his lips.
Oh, you knowsciences.
Hargreaves nodded.
Heard you were in psychiatry. A shrink? Substance abuse?
Collier grunted, fixing his rod in the earth.
Nothings biting. You talk too much, Andrewone day, your tongue will get you in trouble. Lets have a nip.
Hargreaves eyed the bottle Collier fetched from the reeds.
Think Ill pass, he said, a note of dream-terror in his voice, as the strange world churned quietly on.
