Leonora - Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Do you have to work today? I thought that perhaps, just maybe, you know, like other couples, we could spend some time together. Maybe we could go for a romantic walk in the park.” The pleading words came from Mary Arkwright, tired of her sewing circles and women's groups, she wanted to spend some quality time with her supposed lover, the grand French artist, Henri Capelle. The problem was, Monsieur Capelle loved his work more than his woman, and to make matters worse, he loved his drink even more than his art. Of course, Mary was well aware of the bohemian's faults before she moved in with him, but that didn't stop her trying to improve her situation.

Whilst drinking his morning coffee, Henri sketched upon his pad and simply replied, “It's a freezing January morning and you want to go out for a walk. Are you an imbecile Mary?” After a moment's hesitation, he added, “Anyway, Emily will kill me if I do not finish my latest masterpiece.”

Not to be beaten, Mary remarked, “We could get wrapped up with scarves and coats. You can finish your painting this afternoon.”

Henri mumbled something in French and continued with his sketch. He soon added, “Anyway, my model is due to arrive at eleven o'clock. Everything's been pre-arranged.”

Blowing her own fringe, Mary asked, “Is she pretty?”

Henri bluntly replied, “Of course she's pretty. Do you think I'd waste my time with an ugly model.

Mary continued, “You should realise how understanding I am. Not every woman would put up with your ways.”

Annoyed by her words, he threw down his sketch pad and retorted, “Maybe I should send you back to Mr Arkwright! Would you like that Mary?” Defeated, she lowered her head and said no more.

Mr Arkwright used to be her husband, that was before a rather messy divorce. He was the son of an industrialist and a wealthy cotton mill owner in South Yorkshire. Due to years of ill treatment, she found solace in Henri's company, but their friendship soon developed into a love affair and Mr Arkwright found out. He stripped her of any financial assets and divorced her for adultery. As a result, she moved in with the French artist and at first, she loved the constant attention, she felt special, but through the years, Henri's drinking became a serious problem and his attention waned. Still, she was thankful to be away from Mr Arkwright, and despite the Frenchman's thoughtlessness, things were better than before.

Not wishing to watch Henri flaunt with his latest model, Mary finished her coffee and put on her coat. The Frenchman looked up and asked, “Where are you going?”

Adjusting her hat, she replied, “I'm going to see Emily and maybe go out for some lunch together.”

With a somewhat concerned expression, he remarked, “If she should ask, I am just adding the finishing touches to the new painting.”

Mary stared back at him and asked, “So you want me to lie to my friend?”

With a charming smile, Henri simply replied, “Oui ma cherie!”

In the short time that he had before eleven o'clock, Henri carefully trimmed his beard and moustache. On smelling his own rancid breath, he rushed to the bathroom cabinet and reached for the toothpaste. As he brushed his teeth, he mimicked Mary and asked his reflection, “Is she pretty?” He laughed and replied, “Oh extremely so. Just one look at her and I get earth tremors down below.” He continued, “But I can't for the life of me remember her stupid name.” After a thought, he concluded, “Ah! Who cares!” Just to be on the safe side, he splashed his clothes with Chanel perfume and finally brushed his scruffy hair. He was ready for his beautiful model.

“Are you getting up this morning?” The call came from the bottom of the stairs.

Polly stirred and sleepily replied, “Yes Ma, I'll be down in a minute.”

A cup of tea and two slices of toast awaited her at the breakfast table. She came downstairs in her nightgown, scratching her tangled hair as she sat at the table.

Her father remarked, “Stop spreading your nits, I don't want them crawling on my breakfast.”

Rather offended, Polly exclaimed, “I haven't got nits! I always scratch my head in the morning!” Her father quickly replied, “Probably to wake your brain up. You were quite drunk last night.” Polly contested, “I wasn't drunk. I only had a couple of wines.” As an afterthought, she added, “I may have been a little tipsy.”

Her father laughed and remarked, “So that's what you call it. You posh little devil.”

Her mother sat at the table and poured out a cup of tea for herself. Whilst doing so, she asked, “So what's your plans for today?”

Polly bit into her toast and replied, “I might go and see my friend Josie. Other than that, nothing much. Maybe a bit of shopping.”

Henri checked his pocket watch, it was ten to eleven and there came a knock at the door. After one final glance in the mirror, he practised his best smile and went to let the young model in. The filly was ten minutes early. Was she keen or just nervous? Being the time of year, she wore a big fur coat and a wide brimmed hat, a woollen scarf covered her mouth. In fact, only her eyes were visible. She could have been anyone.