When he reached
his house, he saw Anne pacing the hall like a prowling tiger. She all but snarled when she saw him
venomously. If looks could kill,
literally, he’d have been in heaven then, realized Arnold. She was furious because she had phoned
Arnold’s office and been told by the receptionist there that he had left office
at 12 noon itself.
“How convenient
for you Arnold! Keeping a wife and a
mistress happy at the same time doesn’t appear to fag you at all! In fact, I must say that it is doing you a
world of good. Look at your flushed
face. You are looking quite dashing and
young, Arnie. You must be deeply in love
with that writer friend of yours, for you to be looking so fresh and youthful……….”
she fumed.
“Stop it
Anne. Have you gone out of your
senses? I had taken her to a
psychiatrist for counseling. She has a
problem. A severe one at that! If you’d care to listen, I can tell you all
about it. If not, I’ve nothing to say,
except that suspicion leads to the ruin of many solid marriages. Don’t throw it all away by doing that or else
you’ll have no one else except yourself to blame if things go drastically wrong
between us in future!”
“Psychiatrist-my
foot! By the way, I must grant you full
marks for your innovative excuse for your impromptu outing. Couldn’t you’ve at least informed me about it? Don’t tell me that you didn’t have any time
for that! Even a message from your
cell-phone would’ve sufficed. But I
understand that you were too busy tending to that special friend of yours, to
even remember that you are married and have a wife!” She said sarcastically.
When she saw
Arnold’s pained expression, she softened a little and asked him, “O.K. tell me
what’s wrong with her. Let me see if I
can sympathize with her plight!”
After an early
dinner, that included her favorite dessert of custard, which Arnold had prepared
to appease Anne; both of them settled in their bed comfortably. Both were in their night clothes. Arnold in his pajamas and Anne in her pale
yellow silk nightie.
Arnold pulled
her into his embrace, held her head on his chest and started narrating Martha’s
strange tale of woe. At the end, he
could see that Anne was crying. She kept
wiping away her tears again and again.
Very softly, she murmured, “I’m sorry Arnie. I’ve been very stupid and unjust. I can now see why you’re so anxious to help
your best friend’s fiancée. Please
forgive me, will you?”
When Arnie saw
the sincerity in her dark eyes glistening with tears, his heart went out to her
and he kissed her as he said, “Yes, my dear!”
The storm that had clouded their easy-going relationship abated with
both of them reaching an understanding about the priorities of their married
life. Trust was the golden key to a
secure relationship.
Arnold vowed to
keep Anne in the loop about his activities to avoid any further
misunderstandings in the future. In
fact, he knew that he’d have reacted in just as volatile a manner, as Anne, if
he’d found that she’d sneaked out with some partner for a seeming rendezvous! Anne
too promised to be more trusting and less short-tempered to maintain peace in their
loving world.
*****************************************************************************
That
night, Martha couldn’t stop thinking about Dr. Benedict Hussey. His sharp sense
of dressing, his polite and no-nonsense demeanor and his succinct assessment
about her mental condition had impressed her deeply. She felt as if she
absorbed his strength in his presence. Why, even then as she lay on her bed,
thinking about him, she could feel his energy permeating the room and seeping
into her insidiously. She felt refreshed and rejuvenated. She enthusiastically
decided to get up and start writing, but changed her mind when she remembered
how he had asked her to refrain from writing for a while. But would the
protagonists of her novel have the patience for her to become well again? Well,
they would just have to take a break while she took hers!
Through
her sleep, she saw images of the ailing Sara, moaning in her sleep, Juan
mooning over the memory of the beautiful and dutiful Myara, the worried King
and his Minister and the scheming mother of Juan. When she woke up in the
morning at 8 a.m. she realized that she had overslept and groaned. Then when
she saw the huge double-bed, covered by a satin coverlet and fluffy canopy
curtains surrounding her, she pinched herself. She was in Regina in the palace.
On the Princess Sara’s bed! Her mother, the Queen, lay fast asleep on a nearby
couch. She had probably dozed off there when she had stayed there, tending to
her needs at night.
Martha couldn’t believe her eyes. Was she
really in Regina? If so, how had she got there? Was she Sara? She was utterly
confused and scared. Was she hallucinating? She got up gingerly and went to the
Queen. She decided to touch her and wake her up to see whether things were for
real in that room. As she tiptoed to the couch, she caught a glimpse of herself
in the dressing mirror. Her blonde mane swayed about her lovely face, blue-grey
eyes stared back at her dazed, her white silk gown swished around her waist. Sara? Martha?
As she tried to rouse her
mother, her hands just waved in the air. There was no one on that couch.
Deliberately, she sat with a thump on that couch, just to be doubly sure! She
sank in. Then she closed her eyes and said her prayers. “God, if this is an
illusion, let it pass. If you really want to show me someone please show me
Norman. I’ll be really grateful to you!”
To be continued....
The copyright of this novel is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please send constructive feedback only.