‘Hannah, for pity’s sake!’ he cried, holding his blood-soaked shoulder which was impaled with splinters. ‘Stop it.’
‘Pity?’ she screamed like a madwoman, tears streaming down her face. She lunged at him again. Daniel threw himself to the ground, raising his hands to defend himself. ‘What do you know about pity?’ Hannah yelled. ‘Or decency? Or kindness? Or love? You’re not fit to be part of the human race, Daniel Kittow. You think because you have a bigger house than the rest of us you’re ruddy marvellous. You think you’re so masculine, so clever, but you’re no better than anyone else. You’re not a better fisherman than anybody else in Porthellis. You have to lie, cheat and steal to make more money. You’re a rotten husband and a rotten father. It’s a shame that woman ever brought Melanie here. When she grows up she’ll learn her father is nothing but the scum of the earth.’
There was a loud hum inside Hannah’s head and she was gasping for breath. She had said her piece and meant every word. Her strength left her and her fingers let go of the wood, now stained with his blood. A black mist threatened to overwhelm her but she heard Matt calling to her, his voice strained and worried. She stumbled but shook off the helping hand Colville put out and allowed Mrs Penney to take her indoors.
Up and down the street neighbours had come outside to stand on their doorsteps. As Daniel got to his feet, he felt over a dozen accusing pairs of eyes on him, all agreeing with Hannah’s sentiments, while Colville looked down, embarrassed, at the cobbles. Never in his life had Daniel been the slightest bit concerned over a fight or angry words, but Hannah’s hate-filled tirade had pierced his hard exterior and lodged in his soul. Keeping his eyes on the ground, he continued on his way home.
Hannah’s face was blood-red, her limbs were shaking, her eyes glazed over. Mrs Penney was so alarmed she didn’t know what to do first. Matt kept calling, his voice weak and hoarse, and she decided the best thing was to take Hannah upstairs and hope Matt could calm her. Somehow she got Hannah up the two flights of stairs to the bedroom and propelled her into the room. Matt was trying to get out of bed.
‘For goodness’ sake, Mother, why didn’t you stop her?’ he bellowed, making himself fall back feebly on the mattress and clutch his ribs.
‘I couldn’t, Matt. It was as if she wanted to kill Daniel. I’ll put her in beside you. It’s a good thing the district nurse is coming this morning. I’ll ask her to look at Hannah too.’ Mrs Penney was near to tears, wondering how she was going to cope if Hannah was taken seriously ill and Matt had a relapse. ‘Hannah needs as much rest and recuperation as you, Matt. It took it out of her going to the hospital every day when she was hardly over the miscarriage. I need some help. I’ll take Nathan with me and pop down the hill and ask Prim and Josh to move in with us.’
‘I’ll be all right,’ Hannah gasped. ‘I just need a lie-down.’
‘You need more than that, darling.’ Matt held his hands out to her.
When she was settled beside Matt, Mrs Penney hastened away to interrupt her grandson’s morning nap.
When her breathing was finally under control, Hannah turned to look at Matt. His dark eyes were rooted on her, gleaming unnaturally in his deep concern for her. ‘I’m sorry if you were worried, darling.’ Her voice was low and rusty. ‘Did you hear what was happening?’
‘Every word, you were shouting so loud,’ he answered sombrely.
‘I couldn’t help it.’ She snuggled closer to him for comfort. ‘He offered to help me clear up. As if he hadn’t done all those terrible things to us.’
‘I understand, Hannah. But what’s all this about you getting revenge on him? I hope you didn’t mean it.’
She couldn’t bear the anxiety in his face. ‘Of course I didn’t. I just got so angry.’
Matt slowly brought her hand up to his lips. ‘Perhaps it’s a good thing you got it out of your system. Now we can settle down and start again.’
Soon he fell asleep and Hannah watched him, tracing a gentle finger down the outline of his face, now greatly altered by Daniel’s act of malice. And she cried. They couldn’t start again, not in the way Matt assumed. Her heart ached as she thought of the anguish he had ahead of him when he realised he would have to give up the livelihood he loved despite its harsh conditions. Her love for Matt grew to a new depth of passion but she felt a part of her was not with him. A sense of unreality engulfed her, and her love for Matt was equalled by her hatred for Daniel Kittow.
Chapter 20
There were more serious discoveries as the day wore on. Old Mr Nunn was discovered dead in his bed; he had died peacefully in his sleep. And Jowan Rouse, standing despairingly on top of the cliff to view the wreck of the family lugger through his telescope, spotted a body down at the bottom.
The body was wedged in a cleft in the rocks and stayed there despite the relentless bombarding of the sea which sought to dislodge it. The locals speculated on its identity but had to wait two days for conditions to settle sufficiently for the Coastguard and a party of rescuers to scramble reasonably safely down the cliff and retrieve the corpse. A French cargo ship had been wrecked off Fowey with some crew lost and a yacht was reported to have foolishly put to sea on the evening before the storm and was still missing, so it was commonly held the body belonged to ‘one of they poor souls’.
A crowd gathered to watch as the body was hauled up on to Roscarrock land. The Coastguard told Patrick and Greg it was that of a man, a young man by his clothing. When Curly Jose got to hear of it he contacted the authorities and his and Mrs Jose’s fear that the body might be Fred’s was tragically realised.
‘We couldn’t understand why he suddenly disappeared like that,’ Mrs Jose cried when Jeff and Prim called at her cottage to offer their condolences. It was a lament she had repeated many times since Fred had gone missing. She was a humble, rather solemn woman, given to quiet acts of charity, slow to utter a word of unkindness against another, and well-respected in Porthellis. It unsettled the Spargos to see her placid, round face bereft of all hope. ‘It doesn’t make sense,’ she sobbed in her tiny front room where Curly had lit a hearty blaze for her comfort, the cavorting flames offering no cheer. ‘Fred going off and not taking nothing with him. No clothes, no money. He didn’t even leave a note. The police have asked us if he’d been unhappy before he disappeared. But Fred had no reason to kill himself, if that’s what they were inferring.’
Prim didn’t know what to say to her now childless neighbour, not while she was blessed with six living children, umpteen grandchildren and two or three more on the way. She patted Mrs Jose’s chilled hand. In a few moments she would set about making tea to add to the batch of hevva cake and scones she’d brought to help refresh the expected stream of sympathisers.
‘He wasn’t much of a son, was always three scats behind everyone else,’ Curly said as he drew Jeff aside in the little cold passage for a smoke. ‘But he was all we had.’ He wiped away his tears. ‘He didn’t deserve whatever happened to un, Jeff.’
‘I know, Curly.’ Jeff shook his dark head at the vagaries of fate. ‘Did you say the police are still making inquiries?’
‘Aye. The missus don’t know it yet but there’s something a bit strange about Fred’s death. Apparently he’d only been in the sea about twenty-four hours but he’d died several weeks before.’
Jeff shivered. ‘That is strange. S’pose the experts will be able t’work out what happened to un.’
‘I hope so. The missus is expecting to put him to rest soon, but they won’t release his body till all their inquiries have finished.’
Jeff sighed mournfully. ‘I don’t know, Curly. The village hasn’t been right since that Kittow bastard come back among we. No matter what he does he’s got the luck of the devil with un. While the Rouses lost their boat and everything in it, his was one of they that got off practically scot-free.’
‘He hated Fred,’ Curly said bitterly, balling his fists then splaying out the fingers of his rough stubby hands and mentally gripping Daniel Kittow
’s neck. ‘Never missed a chance at taunting un. He made sure that rotten lot what used t’live next door made life a misery for all of us. I wouldn’t put it past that evil bugger to…’ A queer look came over Curly’s face. The unspeakable thought passing through his mind was plain to see.
Jeff opened his mouth in shock to disagree but shut it abruptly. In the circumstances, it wasn’t such an unlikely possibility.
* * *
Accompanied by Leah, Feena Opie paid her fourth visit to Hannah since Matt had come home. Greg carried his grandmother up to the first floor where the district nurse had ordered Matt and Hannah to share a room with separate beds. Although Hannah didn’t need a lot of bed rest, she stayed in the room most of the day to be with Matt. Nathan was playing on the hearth rug where his father could see him.
Settling his grandmother in the one small armchair at the fireside, Greg left, saying he’d come back in an hour or so. He did not want to crowd the room or tire the convalescents. Matt’s bandages were off and Leah couldn’t bring herself to look at his scarred face. It reminded her too painfully of her own injury and after mumbling a greeting and offering a half smile, she sat quietly beside Hannah on her bed.
With her nose slightly in the air, Feena asked. ‘Is that fireguard safe enough for Nathan, dear? Can he pull it over?’
‘It’s perfectly safe,’ Hannah said, trying to keep her patience; she’d answered the same question more than once before. ‘Josh has fixed it to the wall.’
Feena knew Matt was watching her keenly and she turned her fur-hatted head away so he couldn’t see her disapproving frown; she hated the thought of Hannah’s idiot brother near her grandchild.
‘I noticed the boats are out,’ she said, interested only because it affected Jeff. On the evening after the storm, he had come to Roscarrock and told her about Hannah’s verbal and physical attack on Daniel Kittow. Feena had been alarmed until Jeff assured her Hannah really was being made to rest under proper medical supervision. She had hoped Leah and Greg would find some excuse to leave her alone with Jeff, but they had stayed put in the drawing room, almost stubbornly, she’d felt.
‘Perhaps now that Daniel can see she’s not frightened of him any more, he’ll leave her alone in future,’ Leah had said hopefully.
‘Was she frightened of him?’ Jeff’s handsome dark features had sharpened, his eyes becoming unnaturally alert, hinting at the brute strength he still had, one of the qualities that had first drawn Feena to him. He looked younger as restless energy buzzed through him. ‘I knew she was intimidated by un like the rest of us, worried about what he might do, but what exactly do you mean by afraid?’
‘Didn’t you know?’ Leah said, smirking for the benefit of Mrs Opie; these days she did all she could to annoy her. ‘Hannah was certain Daniel would hurt Matt sooner or later. Thank God he didn’t do anything to Nathan.’
‘I’ll break his bloody neck!’ Jeff stormed.
‘Steady on, Mr Spargo,’ Greg appealed to his father-in-law. ‘If you confront Kittow, he might start something else against Hannah. You wouldn’t want that, would you?’
Some of the rage left Jeff and he sagged a little under the effort to breathe normally. He found his temper quickly exhausted him nowadays. ‘He’d better just watch it, that’s all.’ He apologised very sweetly to Feena.
Greg watched her muted reaction, wondering what her true feelings for the fisherman were. He knew she and Jeff Spargo had been lovers.
Now Nathan rose to his feet and leaned on Feena’s knees, kneading the fur muff on her lap. She opened her clutch bag and took out a little toy she’d brought for him, a rubber duck. ‘You like that, don’t you, darling? Bubsie will bring you something else next week. If you came to Roscarrock you could play with all the toys in the nursery.’ Acutely jealous of Prim living here, she went on, ‘Why don’t all three of you come to Roscarrock for a few days, Hannah? A change of scene would do you and Matt both good. You should soon be strong enough to go for a gentle ride, Hannah. The exercise and fresh air would perk you up.’
‘Don’t start that again,’ Matt muttered testily. ‘Our home is here, not in yours.’ Sitting up in bed in his pyjamas, he felt at a disadvantage with two female visitors.
He was offended that Leah wouldn’t look at him and he’d noticed how Feena Opie had given him no more than a quick glance as she’d entered the room in Greg’s arms. His face was scarred but he wasn’t a monster. It wasn’t a handsome sight but it would improve in time. Nathan came to him happily and even napped in his bed. The biggest test had been Hannah s reaction when the district nurse had taken off the dressing. His eyes had been glued to Hannah’s face. He knew her completely and a brave reaction, a suppression of horror, wouldn’t have fooled him. She had raised her brows at his scabbed flesh where Eric had wielded his gutting knife. She had looked angry, indignant, then she had wrapped her arms round his neck and tenderly kissed his lips. She’d whispered something intimate and he knew she still desired him. It was one of the few things that kept him from falling into despair.
‘It was just a suggestion, Matt,’ Feena retorted as if she had the right to be offended. The bedroom was at the back of what she saw disparagingly as a quaint house. The linoleum was faded and cracked in places, the heavy wood furniture ugly and the beds didn’t match. The walls were painted grey and the plain ceiling had turned a grimy-looking ochre with age. The window was small and thick-paned, making everything dark and shadowy, slightly oppressive. Mrs Penney’s attempts to brighten the surroundings by hanging yellow frilled curtains struck Feena as being like putting a jam jar of buttercups on a grave. She was angry; how was her dear girl expected to get back to her old self in conditions little better than a hovel?
Hannah’s heart was sinking. She liked to see Feena but her visits invariably gave rise to a strained atmosphere both while she was here and after she’d gone. Matt was getting more and more frustrated because he felt he should be stronger by now but he could still hardly make the short journey to the bathroom unaided. Hannah understood why he became short-tempered and uncooperative but she was often in no mood to deal with it. Her body was growing stronger, her skin had regained some of its healthy glow, the shadows under her eyes were gone, but her patience was limited and for some reason she felt afraid to go far from this room. Afraid her sanity would desert her and she would actually enact one of her maudlin fantasies about doing something cruel to Daniel.
Nathan looked at his mother uneasily as if he sensed everything was at odds in the room. Leah sought to relieve the heavy atmosphere. ‘Guess what, Hannah. I’m having piano lessons. You know how I’ve always wanted to play.’
Suddenly tired, depressed, wishing the visitors would go, Hannah could only smile wanly.
‘The arrangements for the fund-raising evening are going well, I understand,’ Feena cut in as if Leah had not spoken. ‘Your minister’s wife wrote to me and I shall do what I can to help, not that I shall be attending the bazaar thing, of course. A lot of generosity will be required if the Rouses are to replace their boat and the other boats and houses are to be fully repaired.’
‘The village will do it,’ Matt remarked sourly. He kept back the further comment that the Opies had not sought to help the villagers in the past and they didn’t need their patronising help now.
Leah fell into a furious silence. So, she was ignored again. What she did was of no interest to anyone in the room. Her baby wasn’t mentioned and her health wasn’t asked about. She wasn’t showing much yet but the fact that she was wearing a stylish new maternity smock with a lace-trimmed collar hadn’t been noticed. Her hairdresser had plaited lengths of her hair and arranged them in a becoming Grecian style but it counted for nothing to anyone but Greg. She hadn’t been thanked for carrying in a huge bunch of flowers sent by Patrick Well, she wouldn’t waste her time coming here again. Without excusing herself, she stamped down the stairs to talk to Prim and Josh.
‘Why don’t you take Mrs Opie down to the parlour for tea?’ Ma
tt suggested to Hannah as if he had grit between his teeth. If he had to endure another moment of the older woman’s meddling in his marriage, her fawning over his son, her patronising attitude towards the village and its inhabitants, he’d bellow at her to get out of his house for good. ‘I want to answer the letter from the Salvation Army captain in Plymouth.’
Matt had forgotten one important detail. ‘I’ll have to find Greg to carry Mrs Opie downstairs,’ Hannah said wearily. She knew Feena would never allow Josh to touch her.
‘Hannah’s very tired,’ Matt went straight in on the attack the moment she’d left the room.
‘And you want me to go?’ Feena replied tightly, stroking Nathan’s silky fair hair. He had lost interest in the rubber duck and was chewing on a glass button on her dress.
‘Go and never come back,’ he snarled.
‘It’s you who should go, or better still tell Hannah and Nathan to leave this horrid little house.’ So as not to alarm Nathan, Feena didn’t raise her voice but her tone was as cold as ice. ‘What good are you going to be to them from now on? Hannah should never have married you. It’s an old cliché but you’re not good enough for her. Now you’ll only drag her down. If you were a real man, if you loved her as much as you say you do, you’d do the honourable thing and let her get on with her life.’
‘You manipulating bitch.’ Matt nearly choked as his anger rose. ‘You’d do anything to come between us and I wish I could get Hannah to believe it. Hannah and I love each other, too deeply to ever allow you to hurt us. Our lives will be back to normal very soon and I’ll do my level best to cut you out of it. If I had the strength to get out of this bed now I’d throw you down the bloody stairs.’
The truth about his physical condition was on the tip of her tongue but Feena knew Hannah would never forgive such spite. Never mind, she told herself, her day would come, when the proud, uncouth brute realised his masculinity, his ability to earn a living, had gone along with half of his good looks.
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