Summer’s Last Retreat

by Summer's Last Retreat (retail) (epub)

  Cold, tired and hungry, longing for her loving, her fire and her food, he stared foolishly at the door for a while, then gave up, convinced that she would forget in time, that those happy moments were not gone for ever. Replacing the bag on his back as regulations insisted, but ignoring the stick, he dragged his feet towards his mount and crawled up onto its back. Deciding to take a shorter route home, he later dismounted and guided the horse down the stony path towards the quarry.

  He had the Penclawdd letter as proof for Ceinwen that he was sooner than usual because he was too ill to finish his rounds. There was no reason why he couldn’t go home early and be comforted. A sharp stab of concern flashed through his brain as he thought that those days were possibly over. That Ceinwen, like all the rest, no longer considered him deserving of even the slightest kindness.

  As he approached the top of the quarry, five men appeared from the trees. Each one carried a stick which they tapped against a palm in a threatening manner. Kenneth gasped with disbelief. Not now, when he had reached sight of the smoke from his own fire! He tried to remount, but his foot could not find the stirrup, his legs lacked the strength to lift him and he abandoned the animal to its fate.

  He turned from them and, revived by fear ran like a hare for the quarry. He practically threw himself over the edge, not giving a thought to how he might place his feet, and ran uncontrollably down the steep slope. He tripped over a bramble that had crept across his path and rolled like a ball, dashing himself against numerous jagged edges, and settled in a painful heap almost at Pitcher’s gate. He risked a glance upwards to see the five men standing on the horizon, one already beginning to find a more orderly route to join him.

  ‘Pitcher!’ he screamed. ‘Barrass! Arthur! Pitcher!’ A window opened and Emma’s screams joined his. As the five men worked their way down the face of the quarry, Barrass ran through the arch, scooped up the terrified man and carried him into the yard.

  ‘Never no more!’ Kenneth shouted as he was half carried and half dragged inside the house. ‘I’m never going to deliver a letter again. Ceinwen won’t persuade me after this. Hounded I’ve been for two whole days, wondering if I will ever see my home again. Hounded, mind! Never no more. Never!’

  It took a glass of Pitcher’s best brandy to calm him.

  ‘Good isn’t it?’ Pitcher said as the terrified man slurped shakily. ‘Best French that is. Illegal, mind! Should refuse it by rights, shouldn’t you?’

  Kenneth chose not to hear him until the glass was drained.

  * * *

  Barrass, Pitcher, Arthur and the dog gathered the unexcited horse, then they all escorted Kenneth home, and once through his door, he shouted to Ceinwen that whatever she said to persuade him, he was no longer the letter-carrier for Gower.

  ‘I have already decided that,’ Ceinwen said quietly, ‘best we offer it to Dan, then he and our Enyd can marry.’

  Barrass heard the announcement with an aching heart. His only chance of carrying letters around Gower was gone. He hardly noticed Enyd push past the drooping figure of her father to run up and tell Dan the exciting news.

  * * *

  ‘No, Enyd, a hundred times, a thousand times, no!’

  ‘But Dan! I thought you loved me?’

  ‘That I could never deny,’ he said, leading her to the privacy of a huddle of wind-curved trees. ‘But neither can I deny that I am a fisherman,’ he insisted firmly. ‘My father and I work together and never have any of our family or friends gone hungry.’

  ‘But you might die,’ she whispered with a sob. ‘I am so afraid for you, Dan, that it would be a life filled with misery for me.’

  ‘Only think, your father has several times been attacked and you say that today he has been chased by a horde of ten men armed with knives and sticks – or so he says. I have never even been in danger! My father knows the sea as well as any man in these parts, and respects it. He will never take a chance with his life or mine, knowing that without him, Olwen and baby Dic and my mother would be in difficulties. For them he would always err on the side of safety. For you, my dearest love, so will I. There, you have my promise on it.’

  ‘Olwen nearly lost her life,’ she said in a vain hope of winning the argument.

  ‘Olwen didn’t take time to read the signs. When she knew she was being stupid she was too prideful to admit it. That is a mistake she will never make again. Pride can kill far easier than the respectful use of the sea.’

  ‘But we would be able to have an easier, more comfortable life, Dan. Why don’t you just try being the post-carrier? You may even prefer it. How can you know if you do not try it?’

  ‘Fishing is a proud calling,’ Dan said softly, taking her in his arms and willing her to understand. ‘Didn’t they feed the village and many from outside when there was a great famine? And when there were visitations of the plague and the smallpox, and no one dared to leave the village or allow anyone to enter with food? Didn’t the fishermen save us then, bringing in good food from the sea, and feeding everyone until the danger was past?’

  ‘I am afraid of it, Dan.’

  ‘Then I will have to teach you not to be.’ He kissed her and smiled. ‘When you have lost your fear of it, you will no longer be feared for me, and all will be well.’

  ‘That will never be.’

  ‘I will marry you, Enyd. Of that you can be certain. And, I will not have to leave the sea to persuade you, of that too you can be sure. Listen to me, the one who loves you, and forget the grand and impossible ideas fixed in your mind by Emma Palmer and her silly, fanciful daughters.’

  He walked her back to his mother’s house away from sight of the sea she so hated, and softly, his powerful voice controlled in a low, sweet whisper, he sang again,

  My love is like the morn,

  Sweet as each new dawn,

  Fresh and sweet as each new dawn

  My love is like the morn…

  Chapter Twenty

  Tom came home again towards the middle of April and Olwen met him three times in as many days on her way to begin her work at Ddole House. Each time he was waiting for her at the end of the green lane and each time he escorted her to the gates of the driveway and watched as she walked down between the trees and out of his sight.

  It was simply a coincidence so far as she was concerned, and it was not until Florrie and Dozy Bethan began to make teasing remarks that she thought otherwise.

  ‘Out for walks early he is and what’s wrong with that then?’ Olwen said in response to yet another pointed comment. ‘Ceinwen gets up before the cockerels to get the day started before Barrass comes back with the letters, I expect she pushes him out from under her feet. Like most men he’s probably less use than the space he takes up!’

  Florrie chuckled as she handed Olwen the empty coal buckets to fill.

  ‘You’re probably right at that, girl. With Kenneth hanging around too scared to leave her shadow, and Tom wanting something to do to pass the idleness of his leave, it probably drives the poor woman frantic.’

  ‘Never a chance to be idle in Mam’s house,’ Olwen grumbled, pulling at the door and pushing her way through with the ungainly buckets. ‘What with the animals and the fields, and the fish and the wool – always the wool! Finding it, washing it, dyeing it and then there’s the carding and spinning and weaving. There’s never a day in the year when there isn’t something to see to with the wool!’

  ‘Brings in a good bit of extra with the blankets she makes, your Mam,’ Dozy Bethan said. ‘Some of the best to be had, Mary-the-Fish’s blankets, that’s what people do say, for sure.’

  ‘Are you going to stand there all day with those empty buckets, letting all the heat out, Olwen-the-Fish?’ Florrie asked. She chuckled again when Olwen slipped through the door and closed it with careful firmness behind her.

  ‘Still plenty of cheek in that one,’ she said to Bethan. ‘But she’ll do, she’ll do.’

  ‘Not for long, then, if that Tom is looking out for her. He comes home
so rarely and for such a short time that he’ll work fast and make his courting last a few days instead of months. Have to watch them soldiers,’ Bethan drawled in her slow voice. ‘They works very fast they do, them not having the time to dawdle, like.’

  Bent from the waist filling the coal buckets, Olwen was wondering if Barrass would care if she did keep company with Tom for the few weeks he was at home. Probably not, she sighed, heaving up a large piece of coal and dropping it on another to break it into usable sizes. She idly thought that would be a nice thing to do to Barrass’s head. ‘Oh, that Barrass,’ she said aloud, ‘he’s an a-w-ful fool.’

  ‘And why is he a fool?’ a voice said and she turned in alarm to see Tom standing at the door of the barn, laughing at her. He was not in uniform, but wore dark brown trousers over which were pulled shiny, polished boots. His shirt was white linen, neatly pleated down the front and with a large, stand-up collar. The collar was turned fashionably up, cradling a cravat of brown only slightly darker than his trousers. He carried a jacket across his arm and a hat shaded his eyes from her, although, from the shape of his mouth, she guessed they would be laughing.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she gasped. ‘Set the dogs on strangers they do. And that David in the stables, he hits first and sorts out the questions later!’

  ‘I have a letter for William Ddole, it came by the morning post and I offered to deliver it for Barrass,’ he said. ‘I thought it might be an excuse to walk you home later. So, if no one asks why I’m here now, forcing me to hand it over, I’ll see you later. Six of the clock, is it?’

  ‘How do I know!’ she said impatiently. ‘Cook is quite likely to find me something to do at five minutes off the hour and make me stay until I finish it!’

  His sudden appearance had rattled her. It was as if thinking had made him materialize. Pity it hadn’t worked with Barrass, she thought angrily. He’s probably off looking for that Harriet, or some other pretty pair of ankles he’s taken a fancy to.

  ‘I said I will be waiting at the gate,’ Tom said.

  She brought her mind swiftly back and said, ‘I heard you,’ although she had not. ‘I’m not deaf, and no more am I decided about whether or not I want you to walk me home, Tom-Soldier-Boy!’

  ‘Soldier, but no boy, as I’ll demonstrate should you have a desire to learn,’ he said.

  ‘Oh go, before I throw this coal over your neat clothes!’

  He raised his hands in mock alarm and backed away.

  ‘By the gate then, at six of the clock,’ he called back.

  She rattled the coal against the buckets and did not answer.

  Later that day she was sent on a message to the house of Violet and Edwin. She carried the folded and sealed note in her hand, curious as to its contents but not daring to do more than lift a corner to see what it said. All she could make out was William Ddole’s signature, and she sighed in disappointment. Learning to read had been fun, and although she no longer had Penelope to ask if she was stuck on a strange word, she was making excellent progress.

  The house that Edwin had dramatically enlarged for the arrival of his bride was, Olwen thought, an ungainly building. Low and long at the front, with the newer, taller building joined on at the back for the full length, with chimneys adorning the ridge like ill-formed teeth, it looked what it was, an attempt to make something grand out of a farmer’s dwelling.

  The entrance was at the wide opening that had once been the division between the living rooms and the place set aside for the cattle, goats and chickens. The new doors were ornately carved and boasted a huge knocker that seemed likely to defeat Olwen’s attempts to bang it. On tiptoe she stretched until she could touch the lowest tip of it and knew that, reluctantly, she would have to do as she was supposed to, and go around to the servants’ and tradesmen’s door at the back.

  She walked around the building where the evidence of recent working was apparent in the neglected bricks and stones and the debris of cutting them that lay all about. She was looking along the building to decide which was the correct door when she heard a scream.

  Her legs almost gave out under her, but recovered enough to step closer to the back door. It burst open and a distraught-looking woman shouted.

  ‘Olwen, go at once for Doctor Percy. It’s Mistress Violet. Run, girl!’

  Forgetting to hand over the letter, Olwen darted around the house and along the paths and small tracks, cutting through fields and disturbing a small flock of sheep. The scream seemed to echo around in her head for the whole time she was running, it chased her, urged her on so she did not pause for breath.

  Doctor Percy was at home and, on hearing that it was Violet who needed him, set off at once on his small horse. Olwen sank to the ground, her limbs trembling, her breath painfully tight. Even her teeth felt the agony of it as she drew each breath.

  ‘Olwen! Whatever is the matter?’

  She looked up and saw Tom staring at her from the corner of the doctor’s house.

  ‘Nothing’s the matter, I’m out of puff, that’s all.’

  ‘Has someone chased you? Tell me who it is and I’ll see they regret it.’

  ‘Nothing like that,’ Olwen said as she began to rise. ‘I had to run for the doctor for Violet Prince. The baby on its way, I suppose.’

  He offered her a hand. She ignored it, but he took her arm anyway, holding her close against him, and walked with her away from the house. She still held the letter.

  ‘I was to deliver this, but the scream emptied my mind,’ she said, and he took it from her.

  ‘I will take it. My days are not very full. It will be an excuse to go and see if the reason for the urgency was the arrival of Barrass’s baby.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ she snapped. ‘The baby is Violet’s, and as she is married to that Edwin, his it will be!’

  ‘Talking to you is like pouring water onto a fire,’ Tom laughed. ‘Spitting and crackling with every innocent remark!’

  They walked together to the place where their paths led in opposite directions. He released her arm and, to her surprise, bent suddenly and kissed her – first on her cheek and then, when she moved to avoid it, his lips held hers. The surprise faded and the sensation was one of sweetness. His arms were around her, pressing her slightly against him, his lips moving gently, moulding hers into an opening flower. He did not look at her again, but gave her the briefest of hugs and was gone.

  ‘Six of the clock, remember,’ he called back.

  She stared after his retreating figure, stunned by what had happened. She had never been kissed in that way before. Arthur kissed her in fun and Barrass with brotherly affection, but Tom’s kiss was different and had caused strange things to happen to her insides. She walked slowly back to Ddole House.

  * * *

  News of the arrival of Violet’s baby girl reached them in late afternoon. Olwen closed her ears to the remarks about Barrass’s part in it, and pretended not to understand the jokes that passed between the kitchen, the stables and everyone who called at the house. She knew that the baby was the result of Barrass’s loving, but there was no advantage in tormenting herself about it. And besides, since Tom’s kiss she was no longer so surprised at it happening. The stirrings of the need for loving were already in her, and how difficult it must be to deny them with the one you love. But it was Barrass her body cried out for, Barrass’s kisses, and Barrass’s hands pressing her close to him. She scrubbed even harder at the pots to take her mind from the sensations that were disturbing her.

  That evening she pleaded with Florrie to allow her to leave early. She did not want to talk to Tom. There was something insistent about him, forcing her to accept her own emerging adulthood. She ran home, and offered to help Mary with the new blanket that was set up on the loom in the living room. Mary was surprised, but wisely did not ask the reason for such industriousness.

  Dan needed to show Enyd that the sea was not a fearful enemy, only a friend with capricious moods and an unreliable temper. He talked it
over with Spider, who advised him to coax her into a change of mind.

  ‘Get her out on the sea, boy, make sure she enjoys the experience. Be sure to take her out while the sea is in gentle and unplayful mood, then she will gradually realize that she gives pleasure and bountiful gifts as well as danger and death. Just now Enyd is set on remembering only the worst, ignoring the best.’

  Dan wandered around, attending to his various tasks whilst trying to think of a way to entice Enyd into his boat. He agreed with his father. Once Enyd had felt the joy of skimming the surface of the sea, being driven along with the wind giving what you asked of it, the craft dancing at great speed and taking on a life of its own, there would be a complete change of heart. But how to persuade her?

  It was Arthur who gave him the idea. One day when the tides were quite low, Dan watched from the top of the cliffs while Olwen on a blessed few hours of freedom, and Arthur with his dog, rowed out to the headland of Limeslade Bay and stepped overboard to stand, with water up to their knees only, on the Mixen Sands, the sandbank that was such a danger to unwary shipping.

  He waved to them, and as they laughingly climbed back on board the boat, he ran around the headland to meet them as they reached shore near the village.

  ‘Will you do that again?’ he asked and, helping to lift the excited dog out of the boat, while Arthur tied it to its moorings, he explained his idea.

  * * *

  Enyd was disconsolately dealing with the accounts. The columns of figures had occupied her for several hours and as the pages became blurred with tiredness, she decided to finish and take a rest. She was filled with melancholy. Having spent an hour earlier taking tea with Emma and the twins, she was again thrown into uncertainty about the decision to marry Dan.

  If Emma were to be believed, she would regret becoming the wife of such a lowly man and would spend her days in semi-poverty and drudgery. But she had felt no stirrings of love for anyone but Dan, and that he loved her was in no doubt.