"Why?"

"I dont know, Graham," she answered, moved to honesty by the quiet intimacy they shared. "I only know that when I look at you, I want to know youwho you are, what you feel, what makes you happyand I know that more than anything else, I dont want you to hurt." She laughed rather shakily. "I dont quite understand it, but I can tell you I feel it."

Annas passionate admission moved Graham profoundly. She could not doubt her sincerity; she could hear the tears in her voice. Suddenly she was awash with conflicting needs. She could no longer ignore her intense response to Annas touch; her legs were shaking and the blood pounded insistently through her pelvis. This was desire, and that very fact was frightening. Graham drew away slightly, her face once again expressionless.

"You are a very kind woman," she said softly.

Anna stared at her in confusion. Kindness? Whatever she felt for this woman, it was much more than kindness! She sensed Grahams withdrawal, just as she had that day in the garden. To be so close to her, and in the next moment to have that connection wrenched away, left her with an aching hollowness that was hard to endure.

"If I eat now, will you let me get back to work?" Graham asked, moving away.

"Of course," Anna answered bleakly.


Chapter Ten


Helen approached the study with some trepidation the next morning. Anna had been subdued the entire previous day after speaking with Graham. Her only comment had been, "She slept a bit and she said she would eat. If she doesnt, call me." Anna had taken herself off to the gardens then and worked ferociously all day. When she finally appeared in the kitchen well after dark, she sank into the chair, eyes already half-closed. Helen had to assure her that Grahams breakfast tray had come back empty before she could get her to eat anything herself. When Anna dragged herself off to bed, Helen thought sure she saw tears on her cheeks. Helen was beginning to despair that both of them would make themselves sick. Well, something surely has to be done ! she thought to herself as she wrapped soundly on Grahams door.

"Come."

Graham was standing at the open French doors, obviously weary, but smiling.

Helen smiled with relief. "How are you, my dear girl?"

"Ive finished, Helen- its only a variation, but Ive finished," she said with a note of wonder. "The first real work Ive done in years!"

"Oh, Im so glad!"

Grahams expression darkened. "Yes, wellI cant be sure its any good. I never gave it any thought before. I never questioned my music, never! God, what arrogance to think I dare to compose anything now!! Music, above all else, must be alive! How can I create anything that lives, while I, I merely exist."

"Oh, but Graham, you are alive!"

"Am I? Ive forgotten what it means to care about anything, Helenabout you, about myself, about-- anyone. The sun doesnt warm me, the salt air no longer stings, the touch of anothers hand" Her voice faltered and she turned away. "My body has become my prison, as surely as my blindness is my jailer! How can these hands make music, when I am captive in this solitude!"

Helen responded instinctively to Grahams distress, sensing rather than knowing what tormented her. Graham never complained of loneliness before there was someone to remind her of anothers companionship. "Its Anna, isnt it? Something has happened."

Graham stiffened, her face inscrutable. "No, nothing," she said sharply. "She pities me because she is kind. Thats all."

Helen shook her head. "She is kind, you are right in that. But pity you she does not. She is too strong a woman herself to expect that you would need her pity."

"She doesnt know me," Graham said bitterly.

"Then let her know you! You mistake caring for pity, Graham. Let her care about you!"

"No. That is not possible," Graham responded angrily. "For gods sake, Helen. You of all people should know that! Have you forgotten who I am? Or have you merely forgotten what happens when I allow someone to care? Would you wish that for me again?"

Helen shuddered at the angry words, crying, "How can I forget what love cost you, Graham? I see the cost every time I look at you!! But it need not always be that way!"

"Perhaps for me, it does," Graham said faintly, exhausted by too many assaults on her body and her soul. "Perhaps for me there is no other way."

Helen recognized the resignation in her face and wondered if it wasnt too late after all for Graham Yardley to find peace.

**********

It was another two days before Anna saw Graham again. They were two interminable days spent trying not to wonder and worry about her difficult employer. Two days in which she tried to concentrate on her own life, only to find that Yardley, and its compelling master, had become a large part of her life. When Graham joined Anna on the terrace early one warm afternoon, Graham greeted her cordially, but with obvious distance. To Annas deep regret, the woman who had walked among the flowers with Anna was gone. Anna sensed there would be no discussion of how she had passed her time, or her plans for Yardleys renovation, or Grahams observations on the progress of the gardens. Graham Yardley was as reserved, aloof, and unapproachable as she had been the day they met. Anna keenly missed the small intimacies they had come to share, aware only now of how much those moments with Graham had come to mean to her. Struggling with the crushing disappointment, she tried to accept that Graham wanted nothing more from her than simple secretarial assistance.

"There is a letter here for you," Anna said perfunctorily. "Would you like me to read it to you?"

Graham nodded, her attention obviously elsewhere.

With a sigh, Anna removed several pages of lilac-colored paper, covered in script. She began to read aloud:

My darling Graham,

Forgive me for not writing all this time, but you never seemed to want to hear from me. Ive called many times, wishing to visit, but Helen always told me you would not see me. All these years you have never left my mind, even though I doubt you will believe that.


Anna faltered to a halt, uncomfortable with the intimate tone of the message. "This is very personal, Graham. Perhaps Helen should read it to you."

"Finish it," Graham ordered grimly, rising so quickly that her chair toppled to the flagstone surface of the patio. Muttering an oath, she righted it and began pacing along the edge of the balcony.

Reluctantly, Anna continued to read from the perfume scented letter:

Richard must be in Boston for business and will have little need of my company. I know that after so many years it is bold of me to ask, but I want to see you so! I would love to see Yardley again, too. I will be arriving on June 6. Please, darling, say that I may come! I have missed you more than you will ever know!

Until then, Christine

Graham remained silent, her hands clenched into tight fists against the stone railing. From where she was sitting, Anna could see her tremble.

"Graham?" she questioned softly, frightened by her reaction.

"Today is the fifth of June, isnt it?" Graham asked at length, her voice barely a whisper. She kept her face averted, struggling to control her emotions.

"Yes."

Graham turned abruptly, her eyes bleak. She clenched the head of her walking stick so tightly that the fine tendons in her hand strained against the skin. With an effort she forced her voice to be calm.

"If you dont mind, Id like to finish the rest of the correspondence another day."

She had clearly been dismissed, and Anna struggled not to call out to her as Graham left. Graham had made it clear that her concern was not wanted. Nevertheless, Anna could not put the disturbing letter, nor the mysterious Christine, from her mind.

**********

Anna spent a restless night, her sleep broken by half-formed dreams. She awoke still tired, with a strange sense of foreboding. As much as she tried to put the infuriating Graham Yardley from her mind, she couldnt. She looked for her at the cliffs edge each morning when she woke; she waited for the time when Graham would push open the doors to her study, affording Anna a glimpse of her; she listened for her footsteps in the hall at night, unable to sleep until Graham retired. She could no more ignore the letter and its affect on Graham than she could ignore her own heartbeat. Whether Graham welcomed it or not, Anna could not seem to stop caring about her. She dressed hurriedly and went to find Helen.

"Good morning," Helen greeted her.

"Who is Christine?" Anna demanded, too stressed for diplomacy.

Helen looked shocked. "Why, shes just someone Graham knew a long time ago."

"Well," Anna announced grimly, "shes coming here today."

" What? How do you know?" Helen cried in alarm. This could only mean more trouble for all of them, and goodness only knew what it was going to do to Graham. "Are you sure?"

"A letter came from her yesterday."

"I see," Helen frowned, speaking almost to herself. "Now I understand why Graham was so out of sorts last evening."

"Well, I dont." Anna seethed. "What is going on? And dont give me that old friend routine. Graham looked like shed seen a ghost yesterday when that letter came."

"Well," Helen began carefully, "they are old friends, and they havent seen each other in years. I imagine Graham was just surprised."

"Helen" Anna said threateningly. She knew the difference between surprise and shock. "I know this is Grahams private affair, but I saw what that letter did to her. You know better than I what shes been through this week. How much more do you think she can take? Please, I just want to help."