‘I want to go to the nursery, Greg,’ she said in a voice that threatened to turn the request into a demand. She’d get her own way, too. Greg believed her pregnancy had made her highly emotional and he humoured her in everything. She was learning how to manipulate people, just like his grandmother did.
‘Very well, as you wish.’
When they’d climbed the two flights of stairs, then the few steps that led up to the nursery, he settled her in the armchair at the fireside and placed her feet on the stool. He had kept out of the way while the room was redecorated and was impressed by the changes she had made. ‘You’ve chosen well, darling. I can see why you like it up here.’
‘I feel totally comfortable here,’ she said proudly. ‘Patrick likes it too. He sometimes pops in for a chat.’
‘Well, I suppose I’ve got the study and you’ve got this little place of your own,’ he said indulgently. ‘But I don’t want you making up the fire.’
‘Don’t worry. Mary does it regularly. Just think, Greg,’ she pointed to the new rocking cradle, adorned with a white canopy, frills and ribbons, ‘our baby will soon be lying in there.’ She beckoned to him and he knelt at her side. Caressing his face, she whispered, ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too, my sweet darling.’
As Greg left, Mary entered. She bobbed a curtsy. Leah liked that. She also liked the under-housemaid calling her Mrs Opie or ma’am rather than Mrs Greg. ‘Are you comfortable, ma’am?’ she asked in her naturally quiet voice. Leah had thought she wouldn’t like the new servant, so different in her ways to Lily, but Mary had a stillness about her which was soothing and Leah felt it would be good with a baby in the house. It was a pity she couldn’t have Mary to help with the baby but she didn’t have the background to provide the correct training that the heir to this grand house would need.
‘Yes, thank you, Mary. I’m interviewing some more nursemaids later today. You can show them up here.’
‘Yes, ma’am. I’ll be back in a little while to see to the fire. Is there anything I can fetch you?’
‘I left a magazine in the drawing room last night. You can bring that up.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ and with a curtsy the mousy girl departed.
Respect at last, Leah thought smugly, closing her eyes to daydream. She thought back over Lily and Jowan’s wedding. She had worn a new hat, smaller than the style she usually wore now that she was no longer concerned about concealing the thin scar on her face, and a fox stole draped round her shoulders. As she made her slow way up the aisle, Greg and her sister Naomi helping her along, her entrance had received nearly as much fuss as the bride’s. Adela Skewes had set aside a sturdy chair for her so she wouldn’t have to squeeze her size into a pew, and she had sat there, feeling full of importance throughout the ceremony.
She was careful not to giggle at Lily’s exuberance during the reception held in the Rouses’ cottage and smiled in the lofty way she was copying from Mrs Opie.
‘Getting to be quite the lady,’ Prim grinned proudly to Mrs Skewes over their teacups. ‘It’s going to be a big baby by the look of her.’
‘A girl by the way she’s carrying it all out in front,’ Mrs Skewes had replied. ‘I had three boys and carried them low and at the back.’
It’s a boy, Leah scowled inwardly. She was going to provide a male heir for Roscarrock.
His name had now been agreed and, all being well, Edward Gregory Charles Opie would make his way into the world in about twenty-one days’ time. He would love this little room as much as she did, with its pastel blue flock wallcovering, and cream and pale blue paintwork. Gone were the heavy, dark damask curtains, replaced with a gentle print in soft linen. The thick wool carpet was plain in Wedgwood blue, perfect for him to crawl on.
Her mind drifted back to the wedding. At the reception she had handed out pretty invitation cards to her sisters, mother, aunt, cousin Lizzie and the bride. It was to a tea party she would hostess herself. Mrs Opie had approved of the idea, declining her own invitation, saying her presence might intimidate her family. This was what Leah had wanted; she had also been glad that Hannah had said she couldn’t come as she was too busy with the chandlery which was about to be opened.
Prim and Janet had not come either, but the other younger members, wearing their best hats and clothes, had filed into the drawing room where she sat like a queen giving audience. Lily, unaware that Leah wished to elevate herself, declared her formal attitude ‘a scream’, believing Leah was poking fun at Mrs Opie.
Leah played the piano, a passable version of ‘The Blue Danube’, with Miss Benson turning the pages of music for her. Her audience had clapped in delight, congratulating her accomplishment. She knew they would go home and enthuse about the afternoon. She told them not to wait to be invited again, to ring and ask if she was available. Hannah had paid a brief visit to Roscarrock a few days later. She hadn’t seemed jealous, but after the novelty of opening her little shop had worn off, Leah hoped that the fact that she was establishing herself here would sink in and begin to rankle.
Feena had no such illusions. She had come to accept that Hannah would always be too occupied with the husband she adored to feel Leah was usurping her. She saw her sister’s future as mistress of Roscarrock as right and proper. Hannah’s place was with Matt, in the village, and there were plenty of people there to dance attendance on her. Feena also grudgingly recognized that all Matt’s plans were cautious and sensible. He was unlikely to lose the shop and house; with his intelligence and thorough knowledge of the fishing industry, the business would probably be a resounding success. If only she could bribe a bank official… There was still the threat posed by Daniel Kittow, of course; sooner or later his actions were bound to make Hannah turn to Roscarrock, surely.
Pogo suddenly leapt off her lap and yapped at the door. Mary showed Jeff into the drawing room and withdrew to fetch Leah.
‘Not bouncy like Jowan’s maid but a nice little thing,’ Jeff remarked, hurrying across the room to kiss Feena.
‘Yes, I hope she doesn’t fall foul of Daniel Kittow. I’ve heard he likes young, fresh girls like Mary.’
‘Aw, he keeps his wanderings out of the village. I don’t think we need worry about he any more. He’s gone quiet.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked sharply. ‘He’s only biding his time before he does something else despicable.’
‘I don’t think so. He’s got responsibilities now and that often softens the wildest man. From what I’ve seen of it, he’s good to his wife and seems to really care about that little maid of his. He seems eager for her to be part of the village.’
Feena made no reply because Mary had returned, but if Daniel Kittow had mended his ways because of his daughter, maybe it was time to look more closely at the little girl’s origins.
‘Mrs Opie is fast asleep, madam,’ the maid said, standing straight, her small hands folded in front of her. ‘I called to her but she didn’t rouse. Shall I try again in a few minutes?’
‘Oh, no,’ Feena said; she had no desire for Leah’s company. ‘That would be cruel. She obviously needs her sleep. Mr Spargo has come with news about the opening of Mrs Penney’s chandlery. I’ll tell her all about it later.’
The moment Mary had bobbed and was gone, Jeff was back at the sofa There hadn’t been any opportunity to repeat their lovemaking and his body ached for Feena. ‘Why don’t you stay over somewhere for the night so we can be together? There’s always someone in the house here.’
It made Feena feel good to be needed as a woman, but after the initial excitement of him reviving their old affair, she had come to realise the depth of her feelings for him were not as they had been before. He was certainly not worth the risk of her losing all she had. ‘I can’t, Jeff. If I went away I’d have to take Miss Benson with me. I can’t manage on my own with my arthritis and we wouldn’t be alone.’
‘Pity.’ He ran a row of kisses along her neck. ‘I’ve given up Maggie Curnow but I don’t know how long I ca
n manage without love altogether.’
‘Then you must find someone else, Jeff.’ She pushed him away from her. ‘There can never be anything longstanding between us. I wanted us to go away together before Hannah was born, but not now. I’ve got too much to lose here now.’ She sounded inflexible, aloof.
Jeff jumped up and stared down on her, his face full of shock. ‘I don’t mean very much to you, do I? It’s just Hannah really. And Nathan, Greg and his child are in front of me as well, aren’t they?’
‘Yes, of course. What else did you expect? You fill only a small need in me. We can go on like this or we can finish now. You’d still be welcome to come here as a friend when you see Leah.’
Jeff shook his head. ‘You’re a cool bitch. I forgot that for a while.’
‘Well?’ She was getting impatient. ‘Have you made a decision?’
He was already heading for the door, cursing himself for allowing a woman to make a fool of him, a new and unwelcome experience for him. ‘We might as well call it a day. I’m not going to risk losing Hannah and my other children’s respect for something that’s not important to either of us.’
Feena didn’t give him a second thought. She rang for Mary to fetch her stationery then wrote to a private investigator on the matter of Melanie Kittow.
Chapter 29
Hannah picked up a pile of letters lying on the passage floor. Most were long brown envelopes addressed to Matt, presumably about the chandlery. Before moving on to the kitchen, she opened a small white envelope with unfamiliar writing on it, then raised her brows at the contents. It was an invitation for Nathan to attend Melanie’s fifth birthday party on Saturday. This put Hannah in a dilemma. She would never take her son over Daniel’s threshold but she did not want Melanie to feel rejected or to hurt Grace’s feelings. Since the chandlery had opened a couple of weeks ago, the two women had enjoyed a few friendly chats. She’d have to reply saying plans had been made to take Nathan somewhere else that day. Not wanting Matt to know about the invitation, she hid it in her apron pocket; she’d burn it when Mrs Penney wasn’t about.
Sitting up in bed with her breakfast tray, Feena Opie was reading her mail. One of the letters was from the private investigator. He had located Melanie Kittow’s mother, a 21-year-old woman called Janie Wicks, a prostitute living in St Austell. Records showed the child had been legally adopted by the Kittows. Feena frowned irritably. She had thought to pay the mother to reclaim the child, thereby depriving Kittow of her. Perhaps Janie Wicks could be bribed to cause trouble. Would it be worth it? Feena reluctantly thought not. Daniel Kittow was a hard man. He had the law on his side concerning his daughter and cruel and efficient ways of ridding himself of a nuisance. She’d have to think of something else to rouse Kittow to his former bad ways.
Later that morning Hannah caught the bus to Mevagissey to consult the doctor. The sombre waiting room was quiet and she was surprised and a little embarrassed when Grace entered. Now she’d have to lie to her face about the reason for Nathan not attending Melanie’s birthday party.
As Grace sat down beside her, she was pink in the face too. ‘I hope you’re not poorly, Hannah,’ she said, smoothing at her skirt and resting her handbag on her lap as Hannah had done. They were a picture of two attractive, smartly dressed young women, their chins slightly raised, shoulders back, to show they were in control of their lives.
‘No. I’m fairly sure I’m expecting again and after what happened last time I thought I ought to consult the doctor straightaway.’ Her voice was tinged with hope, sadness and, Grace felt, resentment too.
‘You’re very wise.’ Grace gave a little disconcerted cough. ‘When is it due?’
‘I’ve only just missed, so it will be about December.’
‘I hope everything works out all right.’
‘Thank you.’ Hannah paused a moment to think of something convincing to say about the party invitation but Grace spoke first, blushing furiously.
‘Actually, I’m here for the same reason. I’m hoping that I’ve conceived but my cycle’s always been erratic so it’s hard to tell. I couldn’t bear waiting and wondering any longer so I left Melanie with Mrs Penrose and came here. I drove over. You must let me give you a lift home.’
‘Thank you.’ Hannah’s mind was in turmoil. Would Daniel be pleased to be a father again? She’d always thought she knew him better than anyone but she didn’t have a clue about this. She felt a measure of guilt, sitting here next to Grace, friendly, casual, when not long ago she had told her that Daniel had said he was in love with her. ‘I expect Melanie would love a little sister or brother.’
‘Yes, I hope so,’ Grace said vaguely. Melanie would probably find an addition to the family difficult. She was used to being the centre of attention and Daniel spoiled her shamelessly. A feeling of panic came over Grace; she gripped her handbag tightly and her tawny eyes became haunted. ‘I’m scared, Hannah.’
‘Scared? What of?’
‘Everything. Of carrying a child, giving birth to it. It’s something I’ve never really wanted. I adapted quickly to having Melanie, she was a ready-made daughter, but I’m not a maternal woman. I don’t know how I’ll cope.’
Smiling, Hannah patted her hand. ‘Every woman feels the same way, even if she’s desperate to have a baby. You’ll be fine.’
‘But I haven’t got a family to support me like you have.’ She envied Hannah’s calm acceptance of her condition, and that was despite having lost a baby.
‘You’ve got Mrs Penrose, and any of us in the village will be glad to help out.’
‘Do you think so? Even though the baby will be Daniel’s?’
‘Of course,’ Hannah said confidently in a rush of sisterly emotion for the other woman. She studied Grace’s long face. ‘Have you been sick, specially in the mornings?’
‘Yes, and my breasts are heavy and I feel silly and weepy. I mentioned this to Mrs Penrose. She has three sons so I thought she ought to know, and she thinks I’m pregnant.’
‘Might not be long before you find out for sure.’
‘Or you.’ Grace relaxed a little and smiled.
Hannah knew she must mention the party invitation now and she owed it to Grace to tell the truth. ‘I got the invitation to Melanie’s party today. It was kind of you to think of Nathan but I hope you won’t be offended, I couldn’t possibly come to your house. You know why.’
‘I understand,’ Grace replied sadly. ‘I didn’t expect you to accept but at the same time I didn’t want you to feel I’d deliberately left Nathan out. Hopefully, in time, things will be different.’
Hannah couldn’t see how and said nothing.
‘The party was Daniel’s idea. He won’t be there, he says no one would allow their children to come if he was, but it’s not really a man’s thing anyway, is it? I hope some of the children will come.’ Grace was looking worried again. ‘We’ve invited all the children of suitable age in the village.’
‘My cousin Lizzie will bring hers. She stays friendly with everyone. So you’ll have five to start off with.’
‘You’ve cheered me up, Hannah. Perhaps,’ she ventured, ‘Melanie could pop in with a slice of cake for Nathan.’
‘You’re both welcome at any time,’ Hannah said.
Grace felt she could cope with a pregnancy now. Daniel hadn’t shared his feelings or intentions with her, but his efforts to live the respectable life she had once exhorted him to might help lessen the hostility towards him. If she and Melanie were welcome in the Penneys’ household, it would go a long way towards making living in the village comfortable. She couldn’t bear to think of Melanie and her child being treated as outcasts all their lives.
* * *
The Sunrise was thirty miles south of the Dodman. It was the middle of the night, the weather was bitingly cold, wet with patches of fog, the sea was restless as if it begrudged giving up its bounty. The crew were exhausted but they had only hauled in seventy-six stone of flatfish on the long line and a netful of pilchar
d bait. At least the ray and skate they had would make a good price. Every now and then, when the men paused to ease their straining backs, they caught sight of the other boats heading for home, their bows dipping despondently into the waves, as if to tell they had probably not even caught their next lot of bait.
The Sunrise had more bait than it needed but with the rest of the fleet gone, there was no point putting up a ‘flambow’, a flare to signal that the others were welcome to share the surplus. Rather than waste time shaking it out and throwing it away, Daniel ordered it to be taken into port and given away. As he scrubbed the accumulation of salt and fish scales from his rough hands, he told Colville to set a course that would take them further away from home.
‘No, I won’t do it,’ Colville said firmly, bringing the lugger round to head for home.
‘What?’ Daniel bellowed, furious he was being disobeyed. ‘I’m as anxious as you are to get back but I have a bit of business to do first. It’s no skin off your nose. I’ve offered you and each of your boys a bonus before now, ’tis your bleddy hard luck if you’re too damned pure to take it.’
‘Would be immoral t’take it and I won’t be a party to your crimes no more,’ Colville asserted, fixing his skipper with a hard stare. ‘And I won’t go on letting my boys be involved. We could all end up in prison. If it’s not to your liking, you’ll just have t’get a new crew and me and the family will move out of Porthellis.’
‘You sanctimonious bastard!’ Daniel’s hands reached out for Colville’s neck. ‘Turn the boat round or I’ll throw you overboard.’
‘That’s all you’re fit for,’ the engineer ducked his head to escape the throttling, ‘threats and violence if you don’t get your own way. What sort of a man are you, Daniel Kittow? Are you afraid to make your living honestly?’
George and Colville Junior squeezed into the wheelhouse, their eyes flicking anxiously from their father to their skipper who was shaking with rage.
‘Out with ’ee,’ Colville ordered calmly. ‘Me and Daniel’s having a private conversation.’
Porthellis Page 29