‘Alice,’ Kerensa said, hurt, ‘I only want to help.’
Alice was comparing herself unfavourably with Kerensa, consciously adding to her own miseries. While she had grown gaunt in the face, with dark shadows under her eyes, and bloated in the body, Kerensa’s natural beauty had returned in full measure since her illness. Here was a girl, Alice thought bitterly, who would soon blossom into full womanhood and grow more beautiful with every passing year. And not only did she have a husband of her own who would give her every attention, Alice’s husband too would doubtless desire her all the more.
She must have remained in tight-lipped silence for a long time for Kerensa was walking away. It brought Alice back to her senses.
‘Wait!’ she called out. ‘Please, Kerensa, come back.’
Kerensa stopped and slowly returned.
‘I’m sorry,’ Alice said quickly before she could say a word. ‘If you’ll take my arm we could go for a little walk. That should warm me up a bit, and make me less grouchy.’ She forced a smile as Kerensa took her arm.
They made their way carefully down to the sand where it was easier to walk and moved closer to Mother Clarry’s rock where the beach was isolated. Alice looked as though she had no intention of speaking further.
‘I know you and Clem are having problems,’ Kerensa said cautiously. ‘Can I help?’
‘No, no one can,’ Alice returned shortly.
Kerensa was helpless, not knowing what to say, but Alice was her friend and one she deeply cared for. She tried to get her to look forward to the future.
‘I’m sure things will get better for you when the baby’s born.’
‘Perhaps. I can’t wait to get it over with. I seem to feel ill all the time.’
‘I’m sorry, Alice.’ Kerensa searched her mind for something positive to say. It was difficult. Alice looked pale and wan, her movements over the sand slow and listless.
Alice stopped walking and looked vacantly over the grey, churning sea. The beach was nearly at an end and they could hear the water slapping heavily against the rocks under the witch’s seat.
‘Do you remember the old days, Kerensa, when you and Clem were planning to marry? He was so happy back then… a different person to the one he is now.’ Alice’s voice sounded dull and regretful.
‘Of course I remember, but—’
‘He’s changed such a lot,’ Alice said acidly. ‘He hates me.’
‘What? I’m sure he doesn’t, Alice.’ Kerensa was fearful now.
‘He hates me!’ cried her friend. ‘We had a terrible row and he told me so. He’s stuck with me and the baby and he hates me!’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Why didn’t you marry Clem!’ Alice said viciously, pulling herself away. ‘Why didn’t you tell Oliver Pengarron to go to Hell, then none of this would have happened!’
‘I didn’t want to, Alice,’ Kerensa pleaded. ‘I loved Clem. I did it to protect him and his family as much as for my grandfather’s sake.’
Alice stayed silent for a few moments then said, ‘Yes, of course you did. I’m sorry… it’s just that I’ve been so unhappy.’
‘Is that why you haven’t been to see me?’
‘Yes. I thought I hated you, Kerensa. The Lord knows I wanted to.’ Then, lowering her voice, Alice said, ‘But I can’t… not you.’
Kerensa wanted to put her arm around her friend and hold her tight, but Alice’s face stayed frozen, making such a gesture inadvisable for the moment. ‘I’m sorry about you and Clem,’ she said gently, ‘but you have the baby to look forward to. Things might get better then. Don’t give up hope, Alice.’
‘Mayhap,’ she said, rubbing at the heartburn under her breasts. ‘And how about you, Kerensa? Have you been blessed yet, as they say?’
‘No,’ she replied, unsure how the question was to be taken. ‘I thought I was, but it was the sickness. Beatrice came home from Marazion yesterday with the news that Rosina has just found out she’s pregnant.’
‘Is she? That was quick. She must have conceived on her wedding night. Your turn will come, Kerensa don’t worry.’ It was said with something of Alice’s old friendliness and Kerensa breathed an inward sigh of relief.
‘I hear you have a kitten, Alice,’ she said, hoping it would add to the improvement in the other girl’s humour.
‘Oh, Scrap. Rosie tell you about that too, did she? How’s your puppy? Strange our husbands have given us both a pet, but I’ll warrant yours isn’t a substitute for something else.’ It seemed Alice’s ill-humour was not to be lifted after all.
‘What do you mean by that, Alice?’
‘We’re both married so there’s no need to be coy,’ she said bluntly. ‘Does your husband want you at night?’
‘Yes,’ Kerensa replied at once, but dreading what was coming next.
‘And has your feelings in mind as much as his own, I’m sure. Mine doesn’t want me. Clem doesn’t want me at all. Since the row he’s taken to sleeping in the barn.’ A sob rose in Alice’s voice and she rubbed angrily at her eyes. ‘Oh, Kerensa, I’ve been horrid to you and I’m sorry. But it’s helped to take my anger and frustration out on you.’
‘And I’m glad you did, Alice,’ Kerensa said vehemently. ‘It’s what friends are for.’
Alice accepted a comforting hug and cried on Kerensa’s shoulder, then smiled as she wiped away her tears. ‘Let’s go back and sit down, shall we?’
‘I’ll stay with you until Oliver’s finished looking about, and with luck you’ll soon be able to go home.’ Kerensa took her arm again. She chatted to Alice as they walked, but her mind was on Clem.
She wanted to stalk across the beach and give him a stinging piece of her mind. How dare he treat Alice in this way? Where was his sense of decency, compassion, honour and responsibility? And where his backbone? He might have been upset, devastated even, when she married Oliver, but didn’t he have any reserves of strength at all to call on? Had he no faith? She wanted to say all this and more but couldn’t with Alice and Oliver in the cove. She would look for the earliest opportunity to do so.
Alice’s foot slipped out of her shoe and she half-turned back towards the sea, holding on to Kerensa’s arm as she retrieved it. She slid her foot back in then gripped the arm tightly.
‘Are you all right, Alice?’
‘What’s there? There in the water?’
Kerensa could see nothing at first, but as the next wave rushed its way inshore it brought a little closer to land a chest that bobbed and lurched about like a drunken man.
‘It’s a chest or a trunk, Alice,’ she said excitedly. ‘You’ve found something! I’ll get someone to pull it out for you.’
‘No, look, we haven’t got time.’ Alice was excited too. ‘It’s going to be caught up on those rocks out there. If it bobs around the side of Mother Clarry’s, it’ll be lost forever.’ Pulling her arm away, Alice hurried towards the rocks under the witch’s seat.
‘Where are you going?’ Kerensa quickly sidestepped in front of her friend. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘If we get on those rocks there, we can pull in the chest together. It could be filled with beautiful clothes, Kerensa, I could make something fine for my baby to wear.’
‘But those rocks are always slippery. It’s far too dangerous, Alice.’ Kerensa was walking backwards and could see her arguments were falling on deaf ears. Alice’s face was set. ‘Don’t be silly, Alice, think of your baby. If you fall—ow!’ Kerensa slipped and landed heavily on the sand.
Alice kept on going and began to run. By the time Kerensa regained her feet her friend was clambering over the first of the rocks where they edged the sea under the cliff.
‘Alice!’ she shouted, terrified. ‘Come back! The water soon gets deep out there.’
As if to confirm her fears and warning, almost at once Alice slipped on seaweed and was brought down on her knees. She couldn’t move forwards or backwards and panicked.
‘Help me, Kerensa! Help me! I’m afraid t
o move!’
‘Try to stay calm, Alice! I’ll get help!’
It was the fastest Kerensa had ever run across the beach, shouting all the way.
‘Clem! Oliver! Help! Help!’
They both heard her at the same time. Clem dropped a long beam of timber to splash back in the water. Oliver broke off his conversation with a wrinkled old fisherman. Although he was a good distance further away from Kerensa than Clem, his longer legs ensured they reached her at the same time. Clem caught her by the top of her arms but she shrugged him off.
‘What is it?’ Oliver demanded, flashing Clem a fierce look.
‘It’s Alice,’ Kerensa cried fearfully, ‘she’s trapped on rocks under Mother Clarry’s seat.’ She looked wildly at both men. ‘You must do something!’
They all ran off together, Kerensa panting to keep up. Oliver and Clem reached the rocks long before she did and when she ran up beside them they were both looking anxiously about.
The rocks were empty.
‘Do you think she got back by herself?’ Clem said doubtfully.
‘We would have passed her,’ said Oliver, shaking his head.
‘There she is!’ Kerensa screamed, pointing outwards across the sea. ‘She’s in the water, she must have fallen in.’
Kerensa was running again, throwing off her hat and cloak and kicking off her shoes. She didn’t feel the coldness of the water as she ran into the rushing surf and fought like a wild animal as two strong arms swept her off her feet.
‘Take my wife back on shore,’ Oliver ordered, as he thrust her against Clem’s chest, ‘and make sure you keep her there.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Clem shouted above the roar of the surf while winding his arms around Kerensa to hold her against her struggles.
‘I’m going in after Alice. I’m a strong swimmer and her only chance if she’s pulled around those outer rocks. Go with Trenchard and wait on the shore,’ he told Kerensa sternly, then waded into deep water and plunged into the icy sea.
Holding Kerensa up off her feet Clem carried her back to the shoreline. She turned to watch Oliver disappear and reappear in the undulation of the waves as he gained very slowly on the bobbing piece of cloth that was Alice’s dress; all that could be seen of her. Clem stood close, his hands on Kerensa’s shoulders.
‘What will happen to them, Clem?’ she said fearfully.
They were joined by others on the beach. Gran Donald picked up Kerensa’s cloak. Clem took it from her and wrapped it round the shivering girl, resting his hands back on her shoulders.
All eyes were on the sea except for Morley Trenchard’s. He was looking at his son. If the two people there drowned, then Clem and Kerensa would be free…
Alice closed her eyes, letting the waves take her where they would. She no longer felt the wetness and bitter cold, and the turmoil in her mind of the past few weeks had mercifully ceased. She was floating in a world of tranquil warm greyness and had not the slightest desire ever to be awakened from it. Something was touching her, drawing her away on a mystical journey of shapes and colours. She had no knowledge of the frantic struggle going on for her life and another’s.
Alice was unconscious when Oliver reached her. If she had panicked and fought against him he would have been forced to leave her or let her drown them both. As it was it was easy enough to put his arm over her chest, his hand under her chin, and begin the swim back to the shore. But Alice had floated on her back too near the cliff’s edge, and undercurrents swirling round the submerged rocks sucked them in close like the leaf and twig boats he and Arthur Beswetherick made as boys to be sent cascading over the waterfall of the river Withy. They were dragged under the water, Oliver needing all his strength to pull their heads above the surface to gasp for air before trying to move on to safety again. With his free hand he clutched at the rocks, propelling them along a short length at a time. Their arms, legs and heads were cut and bruised as they were flung like flotsam against the jagged granite. Many times they were dragged under, Alice so limp that as Oliver fought to keep his hold on her, he wasn’t sure if she was still alive.
Clem and Morley and one other man were now gingerly making their way over the rocks from where Alice had fallen. Oliver did not realise he was so close inshore and did not hear their shouts of encouragement. When hands gripped Alice and tried to pull her out of the water he thought her clothes had caught on a rock and was dragging her away from him. He clung on to her until someone prised his numb fingers from her bodice and he realised at last that others were helping in her rescue.
Now he had only himself to think about. But the tremendous effort and prolonged immersion in freezing cold water had taken its toll on his great strength. He managed to gain a precarious hold on the edge of a rock but could not find the power to pull himself out. He tried his other hand to no avail and found no strength to hold on to the rock with both hands at the same time. Desperately he tried to get a foothold on a ledge of rock but none could be found. The strength to lift either arm failed him and his head sank below the water.
He thought his lungs would burst for air when a hand painfully grasped the hair at the nape of his neck and yanked his head up far enough to clear the surface. The hand that held the power of his life or death, the eyes that bored hatred into his, belonged to Clem Trenchard.
‘I’ll help you, Clem.’
Oliver could just make out the young voice above the rushing in his ears. Clem’s expression did not change.
‘Keep back out of the way, Bartholomew,’ he snarled, ‘I’ll manage better on my own. Give me your hand, Pengarron,’ he said to Oliver in the same tone.
Coughing and gasping in the icy air, Oliver could only raise the tips of his fingers out of the water in one last desperate attempt to help save his own life. Clem saw them, and grasping the hand cruelly tight he slipped and slid on the wet rocks as he hauled the other’s exhausted body halfway out of the water, falling across his back in the effort. He pulled Oliver to a sitting position and both men panted heavily, staring at one another, as Bartholomew Drannock got between them and dragged Oliver’s long weakened legs out of the sea.
The boy watched the two men curiously. He was too young to discern the look of animosity and regret on Clem’s face, or Sir Oliver’s expression of resentment mixed with gratitude and perplexity.
Looking at Oliver he said, ‘Phew, I thought you was a dead ’un then, sir.’
Oliver could not speak but nodded to the boy and lay back on the rocks to breathe slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth in an effort to recover.
Bartholomew was told to go back over the rocks by two men who had come to help. He did so grudgingly. Clem rose and followed on the boy’s heels. With his arms round the shoulders of the new helpers, Oliver half-walked and was half-dragged back to the safety of the shore.
Clem was met by his father. ‘How’s Alice?’ he asked, without emotion.
‘She’s still alive… just,’ Morley answered, his face stern.
Clem walked on.
Morley watched him then hurried to meet Oliver, whose boots he had tucked under his arm.
‘You all right, sir?’
‘Yes… just about,’ Oliver said, his voice hoarse from the salt water.
‘I’m grateful to ’ee for what you did for Alice, sir.’
‘Think nothing of it, Morley. How is she?’
Leaving the unconscious body of Alice wrapped in her cloak in the care of Gran Donald, Kerensa ran to meet Oliver. She stopped in front of Clem without speaking but only for a moment, before running on again. Oliver pulled himself away from the men helping him, thanked them, and walked towards Kerensa on shaky limbs. She ran into his wet arms.
‘Thank God you’re all right,’ she cried. ‘I was so frightened.’
He kissed the top of her head. ‘So was I,’ he admitted.
Taking his arm she put it round her shoulders and they walked to the people huddled over Alice. Clem was kneeling beside her and holding her
hand but it did not escape Oliver’s notice that he was looking at Kerensa and following her every movement and gesture. He wished Clem had seen Kerensa running into his arms and the open display of affection that had passed between them. He wondered what Clem’s reaction would have been to that?
What a young fool you are, Trenchard, he thought wryly. But Oliver still felt threatened by the youth, who lived in close proximity on the estate; first loves were special and Kerensa might only have ignored the young man a few moments ago because she was peeved with him for doing the same to her earlier, and angered by his apparently cruel treatment of Alice, her closest friend.
‘We must get the maid up on the cart and home as soon as possible.’ Gran Donald said, appealing to Morley, then looking pointedly at Clem.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Kerensa interjected. ‘It will be much quicker to take Alice to the Manor and Beatrice can tell if there’s any harm done to the baby.’
‘Well, if it’s agreeable to you and Sir Oliver, it’s important to get they wet clothes off her as quickly as can be done afore she catches a chill or something worse.’ Morley said gravely. ‘But it’s up to Clem to make the final decision, Alice is his wife.’
‘Alice is always welcome in my home,’ Oliver said, glaring at Clem and emphasising his next sentence. ‘We’ll give her the very best of care.’
‘It’s fine by me,’ Clem said, as though he had no real interest in the matter, his eyes still on Kerensa.
Morley pushed his son aside. Gathering Alice up in his arms he bore her off to the farm cart and plough horse tethered to a shrub up on the clifftop. Gran Donald, Rosie and Kerensa moved off close behind. Bartholomew, having received a reward of a guinea piece from Oliver, lost interest in the drama and wandered off with the rest of the beachcombers to scavenge the shore while daylight lasted.
Left alone with Clem, Oliver fell in step beside him as he followed the others.
‘Tell me, Trenchard, whom do I thank for saving my life? You or the Drannock boy?’
Clem did not pay Oliver the courtesy of looking at him as he replied in a husky sarcastic voice, ‘Did you think I would’ve let you drown?’
Pengarron Land Page 45