Free Honey's Farm by Iris Gower Page B

said, but even as she smiled at the boy and saw him to the door, she was thinking it should have been her husband apologizing, not the farm-hand.
    The late sun was waning, streaking the sky with redness, and suddenly Fon felt lonely for her life in Oystermouth. How simple it had been then; she had worked the oysters in the daytime, gone to chapel, sung in the choir in the evenings, and come home to her bed. Her empty bed, a voice in her ear said, with insidious suggestion.
    Was that what she wanted for herself, a lonely bed, empty of Jamie and all that his presence entailed? She put away the dishes and returned to the kitchen, where Jamie was already writing in the account book.
    Fon stared at his back, at the dark curls lying against the collar of his shirt, and suppressed the urge to run her fingers through his hair. She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath.
    â€˜I would be obliged if you would warn me in good time when I’m to expect company,’ she said, and the tone of her voice was more icy than she’d intended it to be.
    Jamie looked up and slowly closed the book. ‘Are you giving me orders, then, Irfonwy?’ he said, his voice matching her for coldness.
    â€˜No.’ She felt less certain of her ground. ‘I would just like some consideration from you. It takes a long time to cook a dinner, mind.’
    â€˜It takes
you
a long time, that much is obvious,’ Jamie said, his eyes unreadable.
    Anger poured like wine through Fon’s blood. There he was, silently comparing her with Katherine again.
    â€˜No doubt your first wife cooked a fine dinner at the drop of a hat!’ she said hotly.
    Jamie rose in a swift movement and caught her arms, shaking her a little. ‘Don’t talk like that, I don’t like it.’
    Suddenly, all the pent-up frustrations and uncertainties she had felt since her marriage flooded to the surface. Fon put her hands against Jamie’s chest and pushed him away from her.
    â€˜Leave me alone, don’t touch me!’ she said fiercely. ‘I’m no farm animal, I’m a human being, and I do have some finer feelings even if you do not.’
    â€˜Finer feelings, is it?’ Jamie said, his eyes narrowing. ‘Putting yourself above the likes of me, is that what you mean?’
    Fon looked at him stunned. Is that what he thought, that she was looking down on him and all he stood for?
    â€˜Go to bed,’ he said, suddenly sounding weary, and when she paused uncertainly, not knowing how to heal the rift that had suddenly appeared between them, he raised his voice.
    â€˜Go to bed, do you hear me?’ He seemed like a stranger to her then, a man with a hard look in his eyes and with a strong set to his mouth, the mouth that had so often kissed her with such passion. Passion, yes, but not with love, Fon thought in despair.
    She turned without another word and hurried to her bedroom, undressing quickly, as though her nakedness made her vulnerable. Shivering a little in spite of the warmth of the night, she crawled beneath the sheets and closed her eyes tightly, forcing back the tears. She was still awake when later, much later, Jamie came to bed and, instead of taking her in his arms, instead of holding her against him until sleep overcame them, cupping her breasts, he turned his back deliberately against her.
    She felt the broadness of his shoulders and the slimness of his hips before he moved away as though the very feel of her was too much to bear.
    Fon lay rigid for a long time and then, slowly, she moved closer to him and put her arms around his waist. ‘Jamie.’ She whispered his name as though they might be overheard. ‘Jamie, I love you.’
    He did not reply, and he did not turn towards her, and after a long bitter moment, Fon realized that he was asleep, his breathing even and regular, as untroubled as a babe’s. She lay sleepless in the darkness, feeling bereft as, for the first time in her