4.
~ Arthur was exhausted when they arrived at Cobb's home. It was a large house that had been added onto over the years as was needed. No doubt it started off as a typical one room cabin, then had rooms built onto it. It was still cozy and well tended to, with an attractive vegetable garden and pasture full of lazy cows.
The air in the country was so different from the city. He could actually smell grass and other plants He could feel his body want to heal itself by drinking in all this good air.
He didn't even mind the foulness of the pig pen, and ignored the stench of Cobb's car as he parked it in the barn.
Instead, he was grateful he no longer smelled gun powder and things gone rotten in those awful trenches.
He liked this little house and felt he could stay here for the winter, when music reached him. Piano music was drifting from out of the open window was calling to him.
His driver, Cobb, had left him on the porch with his bag while he parked his car and Arthur wasn't sure if he should go inside without his host.
He was expected by these people, but maybe he should knock first.
The music was louder and he spied through the open window a young woman in a baggy, green sweater at a stand up piano. She was playing the simple notes of 'Scarborough Fair' her hands not practiced enough to make the keys do anything more than basic things. She didn't seem to trust herself to play with both hands yet.
The tune seemed sad and lonely as she played to a seemingly empty house. The lone notes solitary and seeming to reflect her mood.
The music saying that she was all alone without any words.
He straitened up and knocked on the door, hoping the girl would answer it, he peered in the window again, only to find she was gone. The music stopping suddenly and the front room looked as empty and deserted as if she had never been there. Had it been a ghost he had seen?
"Can I help you?" came a dull irritated voice and Arthur turned to see the small form of the young woman who had been playing.
She wrapped the green sweater, far too big for her, tightly around her petite body and glared at him suspiciously.
"I... I'm." he stumbled as he realized he must look foolish. A stranger peering into her window and showing up on her front door.
She looked at him, waiting for him to go on.
"Well, I'm Arthur." he said at last.
"Well of course you are." she said unimpressed. "What do you want, Arthur?"
"Mr. Cobb hired me." he said with relief.
"You're the new school teacher." she said at last and looked him over.
"Yes." Arthur said and hoped she would stop her inspection of him.
"Well, come inside, it's getting cold out." she said even though the sun was shinning, and it's heat made for a very fine day.
"Cobb's parking the car." Arthur offered lamely as he followed her inside the rustic country home.
It was pleasant enough. A sitting room was to the left and obviously kept only for best. That was where the piano and a green couch were placed. Arthur noticed a narrow set of stairs that lead to a sleeping loft, and the other rooms were closed off by heavy oak doors.
"We never stray from the kitchen except to sleep." the young woman explained. "It's more comfortable in the kitchen anyway."
"I'm sorry I didn't get you name." Arthur said as hefted his old traveling bag on his shoulder and followed her.
"I'm Ariadne." she said in a ghost like voice. As if her own name were just a memory and not a real person.
"Pleased to meet you." Arthur sighed and tried to catch a better look at her. But she refused to meet him in the eye and turned to open another heavy oak door.
Arthur saw instantly why the kitchen was the heart of this household.
It was the best kitchen he had ever seen.
It was clearly the original cabin of the house. The old fire place at it's center was proof of that. A large cast iron wood stove was in the back along with a new kitchen sink and water pump. In the front part of the large kitchen, stood a heavy table that looked as if it were used for all manner of work. Now, it was loaded with molds for soap making and the air was fragrant with heavy perfume.
"Sorry about the mess." Ariadne said as she went to a kettle that had started to whistle and took it off the heat. "We've got a lot of work to do before winter comes."
"I understand." Arthur said. But he didn't. he had no idea what country life was like.
He saw in one of the corners of the great kitchen, was a play area meant for small children. In front of the fire was a worn rocking chair. The kitchen wasn't only used for cooking, but for the family to spend time in.
"You're bed." she pointed to the space behind him. It was an alcove like nook that was fitted under the stairs. A double sized bed was pushed into the nook with precious little room to spare. Ariadne had made the bed with clean sheets and well stitched quilt.
"I'm to sleep in the kitchen?" he asked before he could stop himself. He wasn't sure why he expected his own room in the deep country, but he was surprised to find he was regulated to a bed under the stairs like he was Cinderella.
"James and Phillipa, the children, sleep in the loft with me. Miles and Helena have their room, and Mr. Cobb is in the small room. That leaves only one place for you." she said sadly.
He looked woefully at the lumpy mattress that was hiding under the neat quilt. Someone, this Ariadne person maybe, had thought to hang curtains over the alcove to give him some privacy while he slept, but Arthur felt it would be too much like when he was in the war and sleep wouldn't come easily.
"Don't worry." she said as if reading his mind. "This house isn't a loud one. The children go to bed early so they can be up early and milk the cows."
She was looking over him with her large critical eyes.
"By nine o'clock, everyone's in bed." she added. "And the kitchen is the warmest place in the house in winter and coolest place in summer.
"Good to hear." he sighed.
Her hand was on his shoulder with sudden, cat like grace.
"You have a popped seem." she said and ran her fingers over the frayed ends of his suit.
Arthur tried to act uncaring at the state of his clothing. His Aunt had stored his good clothing in her attic while he was away and moths had gotten to it. Eaten little holes in the fabric so he hardly had any clothing worth wearing. He was ashamed to have her see him in such raggedy clothing.
"Oh." he said mildly as she inspected the rest of his jacket.
"This won't do." she said at last. "Take your jacket off."
He stared at her as if she were kidding.
"Don't worry, I'm an excellent seamstress." she told him. Again seeming to read his mind.
Arthur did as she bade him and slipped his jacket off. In the rustic kitchen with it's homemade and decorated plates, lavender hanging from the rafters to dry and soap made from scratch, he almost looked well to do.
Ariadne looked over his coat with her large eyes that he realized were a pleasing brown. Almost like the china dolls he had seen in store windows. She looked too small and fair to be in this part of the county, which was still too wild of a place in this modern age.
He watched her as she went to the fire place mantle and took down a well used sewing box. The rocking chair by the hearth was obviously hers as she pulled it closer to the window's light and picked out a spool of black thread.
"You can use the trunk over there to keep your things." she said and didn't look up from her work. Her small hands expertly hemming shut the tear to his jacket.
"Thank you." Arthur said at last and spotted the trunk by the bed. An oil lamp was placed on top of it for night time use and as he started to unpack, he decided that this might not be such a bad place to stay after all.
