Listening to the Quiet

by Listening to the Quiet (retail) (epub)

  ‘Tell your fortune, Luke?’ Mardie simpered at him.

  ‘I don’t need to be told I’m going to be lucky if I’ve got this, do I? You can keep up the supply I asked you about?’ He winked at her.

  ‘As long as I’m paid, your mother will get what she needs.’

  Jo was reflecting on the nature of the business transaction the pair were referring to, when Mardie said to her, ‘I’ll be seeing Katherine again quite soon. Want me to pass on a message from ’ee?’

  ‘No, I do not.’ Jo turned her head from Mardie’s offensive odours.

  ‘Don’t get hard like she.’ Mardie wagged a bony finger at Jo. ‘You’re a nice little thing at the back of all your lip. Isn’t she, Luke?’ She winked at him, giving the effect of slicing her ugly face in half.

  ‘I’m sure she is, Mardie.’

  Apparently satisfied with her single sale today, snickering inanely, Mardie sauntered off along the road, heading for Parmarth.

  ‘Why did you give her so much money?’ Jo demanded from the companion she was left with. ‘It only encourages her to make a nuisance of herself.’

  ‘It don’t hurt to keep the old mare happy.’ Luke smiled and shook his head slightly.

  Jo knew he was amused at her indignation. She peered through the open canvas at the front of his wagon and studied the contents. A brown horsehair couch, a roll of carpet, a mirror and a baby’s cradle were part of the goods stowed securely on board. ‘You deal in furniture?’

  ‘Not usually. This lot’s for home. Give me a day or two then you’re welcome to come to the cottage and see the changes I’m going to make.’

  Jo was all set to make a reply in a superior tone but there was something about this man that made her want to gain his trust. ‘If I may ask, Mr Vigus, have you had any success in hiring Beth Wherry to help you out?’

  ‘She’s already started.’

  ‘I’m pleased for you. I’m sure she will be good for the children. Does it suit your mother?’

  ‘Naturally. The lazy bitch is quite happy not doing any work. I thought about what you said, about not expecting or hoping she’d give up the drink, so I’ve done something about it.’

  ‘Is that what you and Mardie were talking about?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Luke said grimly. ‘Mardie will leave a couple of bottles on the back doorstep every day for her. The kids are better off when she’s drunk. She’s getting too unsteady to bother them. With luck she’ll soon drink herself out of this world.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking along those lines.’ Jo was shocked. ‘And that’s a terrible thing to say.’

  ‘You must’ve heard all my story by now. You don’t seriously expect me to have feelings for Jessie, do you? Anyway, from the way you spoke to Mardie just then, sounds like you’ve got no love for your mother either.’

  ‘I don’t wish her dead.’

  ‘Then thank God you can say that.’

  ‘I’m sorry things have been so bad for you and the children. When will Rex and Molly be returning to school?’

  ‘Soon,’ he replied guardedly. ‘I’ll see to it.’

  ‘Well, if there’s anything I can do to help them, as their teacher, I should like to hear from you. I must get on, Mardie Dawes has already delayed me. Good afternoon, Mr Vigus.’

  Straight-faced, Luke said, ‘Teacher.’

  After cutting across the fields and roughlands towards the carn, Jo turned, and with the wind lashing into her body, she watched the wagon until it was out of sight. And wished she had found some kinder words for its owner.

  Using energetic strides, she headed for the highest outcrop of the craggy shapes of Carn Galver, scaling the most used path, which was rough and soggy and virtually the bed of a stream. At times, to prevent the tops of her boots becoming saturated, she sidetracked on to reeds and marshy grass.

  Jo knew some people found the moor frighteningly lonely. With its almost menacing splendour, it could be cruel to mankind and animal alike. It had given miners a precarious way of life, snatching away some of their lives and the wealth of nearly all the mine-owners. It relentlessly visited hardships on the farmers. Jo had never felt threatened out in this wildness, where it seemed to her there were moments when echoes of the past broke through from their place in eternity to merge with the present, and hint of something indefinable regarding the future.

  Shadows of clouds scudded over the landscape, they, like the moorland, changing shape with every few steps she took. In everyday life, Jo had a need to be close to people, but the more she climbed, a strange stirring was gathering in her soul, a peace that went deep into the heart of who she was. She felt she could almost melt into the other world she sensed all around her, where Celia was now, and she stretched out a hand, as if she really could find a way to enter this heavenly dimension.

  When she reached the top of the ridge, panting gently, the wind stinging her face, she could very nearly swear she discerned a living energy under her feet. The carn was the abode of the giant Holiburn, a rather passive giant, who, in return for cattle and sheep, had protected the local humans from the more aggressive Trencrom giant. Holiburn had married a farmer’s daughter and they had produced a fine line of descendants. When Jo first heard the tale she believed Mercy, and her brother Bob, also of lofty, powerful build, were descended from the giant.

  Standing defiantly against the elements, with a small sketchbook and pencils, she sketched the coast, shaped by its many headlands, coves, zawns and deep valleys. It was a shaky drawing and so was the following one, of the church tower of Morvah, the next mining village to Parmarth, but Jo was satisfied with her works of art. Also prominent in the same direction was Pendeen’s church tower, Pendeen Lighthouse and the St Just mines, including the Geevor, where Russell Trevail worked.

  In a deep valley to the south of Nance was the Carn Valley Stamp. Many unemployed miners found work there, crashing horse-drawn wagon loads of tin ore, which had been tediously sorted by hand from the heaps of attle. Sweeping in all directions were the small fields whose patterns had been determined by settlers of the Bronze Age and Iron Age.

  She drew two scenes of the windswept moor and grey sky beating down on the horizon, then she scrambled across the ridge to the opposite end of Carn Galver, to take in the breathtaking sights inland. To the south-east was the forsaken engine house of the Ding Dong Mine, said to be one of Cornwall’s oldest; it had seen an unsuccessful attempt in recent years to restart it. Beyond it, on the south coast, on a clear day she would just be able to make out the shadowy forms of St Michael’s Mount and the Lizard. Seeking refuge this time against a massed formation of boulders, she sketched the whole landscape.

  She became aware someone was watching her.

  Luke was standing tall in the claws of the wind, his long black hair whipped back from his striking features.

  He formed the main subject of Jo’s next work, a clear and dominant figure in front of the magnificent backdrop. Her fingers steady as they flew swiftly over the paper, his likeness appeared lightly at first, then ever more boldly, as if he was a vision from the other world become a reality.

  She returned the sketchbook and pencils to the deep pockets of the borrowed coat. ‘You’ll freeze if you stand there much longer.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have noticed,’ he said, closing in on her. ‘I was enjoying the view. Can I see the drawing?’

  ‘Not right now. I want to put some finishing touches to it. You have more life and colour about you than a simple pencil drawing can convey.’

  ‘I’m pleased you think so.’ He swept his eyes over the dramatic scenery. ‘I like this place. I come up here when life wears me down, to think things through. To listen to the quiet. Do you know what I mean?’

  ‘I understand you perfectly. I used to climb up here several times every summer with Celia before I went away to college. I miss her so much.’

  ‘She knows.’

  Jo smiled at him: ‘She came to me the first night I stayed at Nance. She was like
a mother to me.’ Strange, that she could tell him these intimate things, things she had not mentioned to Mercy. She could open up to this man, whom her generous-hearted friend, called a ‘no-good, thief’. ‘You feel the same way about your grandmother, don’t you?’

  ‘She was the only person I’ve ever loved. We were poor but I never went without anything. She was always there for me.’

  ‘Celia. Your grandmother. They could be watching over us now.’

  ‘I’ve often felt Gran watching out for me.’ Reaching out his hand, Luke lifted tendrils of wind-teased hair away from Jo’s face. ‘I like to look at you, Jo Venner.’

  Jo lifted her fingers and touched his face, exploring the finely carved lines and angles she had drawn. The frank brow, high cheekbones, strong hawk nose, sensuous mouth. He was overwhelming this close. Jo stared into his eyes. Could she read into their vibrant blueness? She hardly knew him and everything she had been told about him was bad. But here, now, anything hidden from her did not matter. She felt them connect deeply.

  He placed his hands gently each side of her face. When he kissed her she felt the whole rhythm of her body change. Stepping into the animal warmth of his body, she kissed him back with demanding pressure. The firm possession of his mouth bred unimaginable swells of pleasure which erupted inside the very core of her. She felt she had not lived before these intense indescribable moments.

  She could feel the softness and the urgency of him as he took her fully into his arms. It was like being wrapped in a warm fleece. She revelled in the hard contours of his body, the powerful movements of his muscles, his strength and solidity. Breathed in his wonderful, intoxicating maleness, part of him clean and alive and desirable, another part pagan and uncivilised.

  She was conscious of nothing in the world but Luke. She wanted to share his flesh. Out here in the wildness, in the wideness of time and space she gave her whole self to him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Get upstairs,’ Luke ordered his mother.

  ‘Eh?’ Jessie mumbled idiotically, drawing close to getting inebriated. She was slumped on a chair, in a good mood, as she had been for the past few days, content to be given the drink she craved instead of begging, stealing or selling her body to pay for it.

  ‘Beth’ll be here in a minute. I don’t want you in the way.’

  ‘Oh? You laying her then?’

  ‘Shut your filthy mouth, the kids are listening. I’m not like you. Anywhere with anyone. You know Beth’s very religious. It took a lot of persuasion to get her parents to let her come here and work in this dump. I had to lie, say it was for your sake because you’re making a real effort to give up the drink. They see it as part of her Christian duty, so if you don’t want the Bible rammed down your throat, get up to your bed. Pity you didn’t learn some religion when you were a kid, then you wouldn’t have turned out to be a rotten little whore – that’s what Gran used to say about you. From now on you’ve got to cut out your filthy habits. I don’t want this place stinking like cat’s piss ever again. Now get up the ladder or I’ll take you up there myself and tie you to the bleddy rafters.’ Wrapping the bottle of gin inside her dirty dressing gown, Jessie began the precarious climb up the rope ladder. She paused, one leg, seamed with thick varicose veins, exposed to the thigh. ‘If you think I’ve got a filthy mouth, you should mind yours. You swear every other word, my son. Have to watch yourself when that maid arrives, or if that schoolteacher shows her face here again.’

  It was arranged for Jo to call at the cottage during the school dinner break, to introduce herself again to Rex and Molly on their home ground, to help them feel less threatened when they returned to their lessons. Luke prayed the two women would never meet; the thought of Jo seeing Jessie in her defiled condition filled him with shame.

  ‘Get out of here,’ Luke stormed, yanking a packet of Player’s Weights out of his waistcoat pocket.

  When his mother was out of sight, although not out of mind for she started singing a bawdy song, Luke motioned for Rex and Molly to follow her.

  ‘We want to stay down here,’ Rex protested. Thanks to Beth Wherry, he and Molly were now clean and tidy. She had cut their hair and they were wearing the second-hand clothes Luke had bought for them. The children had been treated for lice and scabies. Their lot had improved, but neither child desired to be near their mother. They did not trust her to stay cheery, were waiting apprehensively for her to resume lashing out at them for no reason, whether drunk or not. Molly began to cough hoarsely and Rex patted her back.

  ‘I want a quiet word with Beth,’ Luke coaxed sternly. ‘I’m trying to make everything better for us in the future. There’s some things grown-ups can’t say in front of kids. Go on. Do as I say. It won’t hurt Molly to have a nap. I want you looking your best when Miss Venner calls. Don’t let your mother know she’s coming. I’ll buy you some toffee later.’

  Beth Wherry entered as the children were at the top of the rope ladder. A modest, slow-moving girl, she was wearing clumpy shoes and a skirt longer than her coat, which was distinctly in a child’s style. She was pink and soft and well scrubbed, and marked with innocence. Luke liked her. Everyone liked Beth. She gave the impression she would never progress past her present age. She was all things young.

  ‘Hello, Luke. Are Rex and Molly coming down again? I promised I’d tell them the story of the Battle of Jericho.’

  ‘You can do it later. I want to ask you a favour, Beth. A great kindness.’

  Luke was soon to leave Parmarth to keep up his rounds. But he had a problem to sort out first, if all his and Beth’s efforts were not to quickly backslide. He stubbed out his cigarette and looked at the girl intently. She had put her coat on a nail behind the door and was taking off her beret, revealing two long fair plaits and a fringe cropped close above her brows.

  Shy at having his splendid, pale blue eyes fastened on her, Beth put on her apron and crept to the dresser to collect a duster and polish. At the end of every session here, her father asked her about Luke’s spiritual state and she confessed she thought him a long way off being saved. Her mother worried about her taking a shine to Luke, but Beth, who saw Luke as nothing more than someone needing her help, truthfully replied that he always behaved with modesty.

  ‘I’m going on the road again very soon, Beth,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I won’t be back for a fortnight. I need someone to call in and make sure the kids get to school, to pop in often and keep an eye on Marylyn. To clean the place and get their meals.’

  ‘I’ll be glad to do all that,’ Beth said in her whispery voice. ‘I’ll take Rex and Molly to Sunday School, if you like. I was going to ask you about it today.’ It would be more comfortable working here with Luke gone. The sly remarks she was receiving from some villagers, about other services Luke might try to press on her, were embarrassing and upsetting.

  ‘Thanks, Beth. I knew I could rely on you.’ Luke piled on the charm. ‘But, you see, I will still have a problem.’

  ‘Is there anything else I can do?’

  ‘I hope so. You know my mother hasn’t given up the drink, don’t you? I’m sorry I was deceitful, but I knew your father wouldn’t have let you come here if I’d told him the truth. I’m worried about the kids’ safety when I’m not here. Beth, could you sleep over? I’ll pay you well.’

  Sleet pattered frustratedly on the window panes. The wind rattled down the chimney, howled through the eaves. An early darkness invaded the room. Luke was desperate to gain Beth’s cooperation. He ached to get away from the bitch upstairs, still giggling and warbling to torment him.

  Beth bit her lip as she turned over his proposition. Her father was unlikely to agree to this but she wanted to help, even though the cottage was still an unhealthy place to sleep in. Rex and Molly were beginning to trust her and she doted on the baby. Beth knew people laughed about her, thought her ‘a scat behind the band’, but she felt useful here. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to, Luke…’

  Luke was right in front of her, rea
dy with a multitude of pleas and lies to persuade her. ‘You have to do it, Beth. The kids need you. You do see that? I’ve been thinking over all the things your father said to me. That the kids should be baptised, brought up to know about God. Miss Venner, their new teacher, is taking an interest in them. If your family was to help take the kids’ welfare under their wing too, life will have a new meaning for them. Surely, your father would want that. I’m doing all I can, Beth, but I can’t do it alone. What say I help you clean up this place then we go and see your father?’

  * * *

  ‘Goodness. It’s like a different room,’ Jo exclaimed, when Luke admitted her into the cottage, after her polite knock. The walls had been whitewashed, making the interior seem lighter and brighter. The stone sink, dresser, and cupboard doors were scrubbed clean. The worm-eaten chest was gone. Proper curtains hung at the windows, in pale green damask. The new material had come from Luke’s wagon and Mrs Allett, Sally’s mother, the local seamstress, had made them up for him. There was the smell of lavender polish.

  ‘It’s going to stay like this,’ he said firmly. He desperately wanted Jo to approve his efforts.

  They were face to face, both a little wary that the other thought their passionate moments on top of the carn a mistake. The moment passed. They knew there would never be another one like it.

  ‘I’ll call Rex and Molly down in a minute. First, I want to hold you.’

  ‘I didn’t sleep last night, thinking about you,’ Jo said, crashed in his arms. She had lain in bed, reliving her first time of making love, awed at how perfect, fulfilling it had been. And gazing by candlelight at her drawing of him, to which she’d added just enough subtle colour to bring his strong features almost alive.

  ‘Me too.’

  They kissed. And the world revolved only around their intimacy, their caresses, their need to be close, until reluctantly they let their lips part and arms fall from each other’s body.