Sweet Rosie

by Iris Gower

  ‘Just get wise,’ Binnie said. ‘Make something of yourself, you speak like an angel and act like a devil, take a good look at yourself before it’s too late.’

  That night, Binnie luxuriated in the bathtub at the back of the small lodging house and, as the warm water lapped over him, he closed his eyes and thought about his wife and sons and how happy he would be to be home. Once he had seen the ship carrying John away from the shore, he would be free.

  The morning dawned bright and clear. Binnie and John walked along the harbour looking for a ship headed for England. When they found one, it was Binnie who paid the captain. ‘What the hell have you done with the money you stole from Dan?’ he demanded angrily.

  John shrugged. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Binnie, I took no money.’ He sounded so earnest, so indignant, that Binnie was almost inclined to believe him.

  ‘Well look,’ he said, ‘here’s some money to see you all right when you get to Swansea. Now take my advice and keep off the bottle and everything will work out fine.’

  ‘How can you say that?’ John asked. ‘I’ve hurt so many people, I can never forgive myself.’

  ‘You must put the past behind you,’ Binnie insisted. ‘Pray to God for forgiveness and make the rest of your life count for something.’

  On an impulse, he held out his hand to John; he was after all a man from the old country. ‘Look after yourself,’ he said.

  It was some time before the ship sailed but Binnie stuck it out, sitting on the harbour wall, making sure that John left American shores. Only when the ship was out of sight, the sails vanished into the distance, did Binnie feel that he had discharged his debt to the Mandan chief and to the McCabe family.

  He walked slowly back to the lodging house and his heart was light. Tomorrow, God willing, he would be able to hold Hortense in his arms.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve hurt your wife, Joe.’ Sho Ka spoke softly. ‘I only meant to help, to try to explain how things were between you and me.’ She sighed. ‘But I didn’t realize how angry she would be.’

  She was seated in a chair, her shawl wrapped protectively around her ungainly body. She felt sick to her stomach as she remembered Llinos’s white face and the tears in her eyes.

  ‘The Mandan ways are not your ways, Joe. You were meant to live as the white man lives, with one woman for life.’

  She looked up at him; Joe was not her man but, in the months she had been with him, she had grown to love him. That had not been in the plan. She had been grateful to him for bringing her home with him and for taking care of her. She had quite deliberately enticed him into her bed. Not that he was reluctant, he was a lusty man, but he had betrayed his wife’s trust and he felt the guilt keenly.

  Perversely enough it was his guilt that built the barrier between Joe and Llinos. He loved his wife deeply and, even though he had been tempted to stray, it was Llinos he wanted.

  Still, one day very soon, the parting of the ways would come. Sho Ka would go away from him, away from Swansea, back to America where she belonged. She would be without him and the thought was like a death.

  She looked at him now, drinking him in. Joe was staring out of the window, hands thrust into his pockets; he seemed engrossed but she knew he was gazing at nothing. He was missing his home and family.

  He did not speak or even turn around and Sho Ka closed her eyes, remembering the sweetness of being with him, holding him, breathing in the scent of him. When he first brought her to Swansea and set her up in a house, he was distant, not wanting to touch her, let alone lie with her.

  Sho Ka had put all thoughts of his wife and child out of her mind. She had been determined to have him. She had been shameless in her desire for him. She realized now she had never loved her husband the way she loved Joe.

  She drew a ragged breath as she thought about their first night together. She had walked into his room wearing nothing but her beads and feathers. He had looked at her golden skin and she could see the desire in his eyes.

  She had slipped into his bed, curled up against him and felt his arousal. He was a man and not made for abstinence. With a groan he had turned to her and her heart soared. He was hers. He had been ashamed in the morning. Unable to face her and afraid to go home to his wife. And yet when Sho Ka came to him again, he did not turn her away.

  It was difficult to explain to a woman not born to Mandan ways the compulsion that drove Joe. He had been Sho Ka’s betrothed since childhood; they had grown up together, been inseparable until Joe had been taken away by his white father.

  ‘You have done well to give me a child, Joe. When I go home the tribe will flourish, the crops will grow tall and strong and the Mandan will prosper. Giving me a child was something I wanted so much, so don’t blame yourself.’ She stared at his straight back, longing to comfort him.

  ‘I wanted you as much as you wanted me, Sho Ka,’ he said. ‘And I didn’t have to take you into my bed but I did, not once but many times.’

  ‘Come here, Joe, please. Let me hold you one last time.’

  He knelt beside her, his head resting on her breast. She closed her eyes, thinking again of the early days, of how she had drawn his passion to her with all the wiles she had at her disposal. There was the love potion given her by Grandmother Autumn Leaf, the little pouch wrapped in bison skin that hung even now between Sho Ka’s breasts. He had seen it and known at once what it was.

  He had stayed with her so long because she was with child and she had no-one else. She knew he ached for his wife, he loved Llinos with all his heart but he was a man with a man’s desires.

  It was then, when her thoughts were on Joe and their lovemaking, that the pains began. He felt her body tense and looked up into her face.

  ‘The child is coming?’

  She nodded; they both knew it would be a boy. Joe’s mother was an elder and before she died, she prophesied that the son of Wah-he-joe-tass-ee-neen would one day rule the tribe of the Mandans.

  ‘I’ll fetch the midwife.’ Joe gently disengaged himself from her arms. He did not have to go far, the midwife was lodging in the house next door.

  Sho Ka had never had a child but she knew now that with her husband it had been impossible. She was meant to be the mother of the chief and Joe was the only one who could be the child’s father.

  The contractions increased but, in spite of the pain, she felt calm and at peace. Her time had come, her son would soon be born.

  When the midwife bustled into the room, her sleeves rolled above her elbows, she took Sho Ka into the bedroom. She examined her carefully and at last nodded her head.

  ‘The baby is well on the way,’ she said cheerfully. ‘This is going to be an easy labour, my love.’

  And so it proved to be. Within two hours, the boy lay screaming on the blood-stained sheets, his eyes screwed up, his mouth wide. Sho Ka felt pride run through her; this boy was flesh of her flesh, her son. She looked up at Joe.

  ‘He is going to be a worthy chief and a fine warrior,’ she said breathlessly. ‘He is handsome just like his father.’

  The midwife worked swiftly and soon Sho Ka was sitting up in a clean bed, a cup of tea in her hand. It had puzzled her since she came here why the people of Britain held the drink of tea so highly. It was slightly bitter and dark in colour but she drank it to please the woman who was wrapping the baby in fresh clean linen.

  ‘There, Mother.’ She put the child in Sho Ka’s arms. ‘Here’s your boy. I’ll come and see you later on today but I don’t think you are going to have any problems, that was the easiest birth I’ve ever attended.’

  When she had gone, Sho Ka looked down at the baby: he was golden, his hair, like her own, raven black. He opened his eyes and looked up at her and his eyes were the blue of the river with the sun on it.

  ‘What shall we call him?’ Joe touched the petal soft hands and the pride in his face brought a lump to Sho Ka’s throat. Her son would grow up on the plains of America far away
from his father.

  ‘Blue Rivers,’ she said without hesitation. After a moment, Joe nodded. He looked sad, his face bent away from her and she knew his tears were near the surface.

  ‘I will take good care of him,’ she said softly. ‘All the tribe will love him. He will walk tall like you and be a good fine man. One day he will be chief of the Mandans, what better fate could you want for him?’

  ‘I could want him educated as I was,’ Joe said softly. ‘I could want him to learn the ways of the white man. I could want a great many things for him.’

  Sho Ka shook her head. ‘For that you have your first-born son. Blue Rivers is created from Mandan stock, there is only a small part of white man in him.’

  ‘I know.’ Joe held out his arms. ‘Let me hold him this once and then I will give him to you for ever.’

  Sho Ka watched the love in Joe’s eyes and she wanted to weep. Soon she would go home, she would be so alone without Joe. She knew that, back at the village, her suitor waited, the old chief who would take the child as his own. She would live in his lodge, wait on him, lie with him when he wanted it and perhaps she might even grow fond of him, but never would she love him as she loved Joe.

  ‘When I’m strong, I will go home,’ she said. ‘You must book my passage, Joe.’ She hesitated. ‘Go now and let me rest, I am very tired.’

  When the door closed behind Joe, Sho Ka buried her face in her child’s linen wrap and let the hot, bitter tears flood from her eyes.

  John Pendennis stepped ashore at the port of Swansea, glad that the long sea journey was over. He had landed at Bristol two days ago and then taken a fishing smack across the channel. On shore, he mingled with the sailors, some with golden skin, some dark as a winter storm. All sorts of people from many nations came and went with the Swansea tides.

  He caught sight of a familiar face and stepped behind a pile of boxes. He watched as Joe Mainwaring helped a girl up the gang plank of a ship with sails at half-mast and his eyes narrowed. The girl was dressed in warm clothes, a good gown and a neat coat covered her slender figure. But her hair was as dark as Joe’s and he was bending over her in a most solicitous manner. A woman was trotting behind them, she was carrying a baby and, as John watched, Joe turned and spoke to the woman, apparently giving her instructions as he helped her aboard the ship.

  Joe and the young foreign woman embraced and then Joe was practically running down the gang plank and leaping onto the dockside as though the devil himself were after him.

  It was all very interesting and John felt for the letter that Binnie had entrusted to him. Perhaps he should open it, find out what was going on, it might be something to his own advantage.

  First he would find lodgings. He would clean up, make himself presentable, then, when he had sorted out everything in his mind, he would go to Llinos Mainwaring and offer his services.

  Llinos stood close to the potter as he threw a large jug, carefully wiping the lip into shape with a damp cloth. She loved the smell of the clay; the sound of the wheel turning was in her blood. She had turned pots herself once when it had been necessary for her to work. She had painted and glazed the china, doing everything that any other potter did. She was still a young woman and should be learning new ways to work and yet she was weary of struggling alone. Without Joe to love and support her she had no enthusiasm for anything.

  It hurt that Joe had not even come to Pearl’s funeral. It had been a dismal day with clouds racing over the graveyard. Neighbours who had loved Pearl and workers from the pottery crowded around the open grave throwing in flowers, shards of pottery and the dust from the clay. It was their way of sending Pearl to her eternal rest.

  Watt touched her shoulder and she looked up, startled out of her thoughts. ‘Llinos, John Pendennis is here, he wants to talk to you.’

  She nodded. ‘I’ll see him in a minute, Watt, just show him into the house, will you?’

  ‘Be careful,’ Watt said, ‘John makes trouble wherever he goes.’ He looked down at her, his eyes full of concern. ‘He says he has news for you, some story about Joe and the Indian girl.’

  ‘Just bear in mind,’ he continued, ‘you don’t have to believe a word he says. John always thinks of himself first, remember that.’ Llinos knew he had seen her face change from indifference to apprehension.

  ‘I’ll see him at once.’ She hurried up to the house and kicked off her dust-covered shoes at the door. Not waiting for her slippers, she rushed into the drawing room where John Pendennis was standing respectfully near the fireplace.

  ‘Sit down, John,’ she said quickly, clenching her hands together to stop them from shaking. ‘What do you know about my husband?’

  ‘I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Mrs Mainwaring,’ John said gently, ‘but I stayed a while in the Mandan village.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I found out that Joe, Mr Mainwaring, had been with this girl Sho Ka when he visited the Mandan tribe. It seems that among the Mandan people Joe and this Sho Ka are considered to be a married couple. They feast openly together, dance those strange Indian dances together, practically fornicating where they stand.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ she asked coldly, hating him for rubbing salt into the wound.

  ‘I just thought you would like to know,’ John said. ‘I saw them on the dock when I landed, your husband and the Indian girl along with her baby were boarding one of the ships.’

  Llinos sank into a chair. ‘Well, why are you here, John? It isn’t simply to tell me this, to hurt me, is that it?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘I never wanted to hurt you. Though when Binnie Dundee asked me to tell you about Joe, I felt he was right. He knows you better than I do and he thought you would prefer to know the truth.’

  ‘Binnie? What has he got to do with all this?’ Llinos rubbed her eyes; she wanted to crawl into bed, to close her eyes and never open them again. She thought of Joe with another child, a baby who would take Lloyd’s place in his heart. It made her so angry that she felt physically ill.

  John swallowed hard. His shoulders slumped; he was trembling. ‘Binnie was good enough to go with me to the coast and see me safely aboard ship,’ he said in a low voice. ‘He thought you might give me a job. He wanted to help me in any way he could because I’d been through a bad time.’

  He paused and rubbed his eyes tiredly. ‘My wife, Josephine, she miscarried our baby and it was all too much for her. I lost her too.’

  He wiped his eyes impatiently before straightening his shoulders. ‘But you have problems of your own, you don’t need to hear mine. I’d better go and leave you in peace. In any case, I need to find work and somewhere to stay before nightfall.’

  Llinos watched as John walked towards the door. He was very thin, he seemed a shadow of the man he used to be. And if Binnie had wanted to help him it was good enough for her. ‘Look, speak to Watt, I’m sure he will find you a job here.’ Llinos got to her feet, anxious to be alone.

  ‘I couldn’t take advantage of your generosity, not when I’ve brought you such unwelcome news,’ John said. ‘I’m sorry for you, really sorry. I know what it’s like to lose the one you love.’

  John had not been an ideal employee in the past, indeed there was a time when Llinos felt relieved that he had gone to America, but now her heart went out to him. He had aged; his hair was prematurely tinged with grey, his eyes puffy and swollen. Perhaps bad luck followed him around like a curse.

  ‘Haven’t you found lodgings for tonight?’ she asked more kindly. By the look of the man he had suffered a great deal. He shook his head.

  ‘No but now I have the promise of work I’m sure I will have no difficulty finding somewhere.’

  ‘Look,’ Llinos said, ‘stay here, at least for tonight. You can sleep in one of the sheds, at least it will be warm and dry.’

  ‘I wouldn’t like to impose,’ John said. ‘It won’t take me long to go around Swansea asking for lodgings, don’t you worry about me.’

 
‘It’s all right,’ Llinos said. ‘Stay until you find somewhere decent to live, you’re welcome.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Mrs Mainwaring,’ he said. ‘I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be treated so generously. But, really, I would rather find lodgings in one of the inns nearby. I don’t want to impose on your hospitality. Still, I thank you for your kindness from the bottom of my heart.’

  ‘Very well.’ Llinos rang the bell for the maid. ‘Show Mr Pendennis to the door.’ She spoke calmly though it took all her reserves of self-control not to scream and cry and curse her husband’s name.

  As the door closed behind John, Llinos stared down at her hands, at the ring Joe had placed on her finger, a gold band that she believed tied them together for life. How wrong she had been. It seemed that a few words spoken many years ago over a couple of children living in a Mandan village were more binding than any civilized marriage service conducted in a house of God.

  She felt the bitterness of tears burn her eyes. How could Joe say he loved her and then give his love to Sho Ka? Was he simply a good liar? She could picture them on the docks, embracing each other, cooing over the new baby. Joe would be looking down at the Indian girl with the tenderness he had once shown his wife. His hands would touch her hair, her cheek.

  ‘Stop it!’ Llinos put her hands to her face. She could not bear to think of them together. She would never forgive Joe for the way he had treated her, never. Nothing on this earth would put right the wrong he had done her. Then why did her body ache for him? Why did her mind and spirit feel so lost without him?

  Llinos sighed; she must pull herself together. The only one she was hurting by brooding on Joe’s betrayal was herself. In the morning she would speak to Watt, tell him that she had promised John a job. He would not like it one bit; he would frown his disapproval but then that was just too bad. She was the owner of the pottery and the days were long gone when she took directions from any man. From now on, men would have no place in her life, she would have to learn to be independent, to assert herself. She had managed alone before, she would do it again.