He would never go back to Carrick Cross. Yet if he didn’t, how would he find out more about the quietly dignified and mysterious Eve Tremorrow?
Chapter 9
Several people were making their way to Rosemerryn for tea that afternoon; two were uninvited, but one of the two was sure they would find a welcome. Daisy was walking with Bruce along Rosemerryn Lane, her arm proudly tucked inside his.
‘I’m really curious to meet Billy’s widow,’ Bruce said, idly pulling at cow parsley sticking out from the hedge. ‘Are you sure she won’t mind me turning up like this, Mum? Her wedding night was only last night, after all.’ Daisy was eager to show off her son. With his confident manner, good-quality clothes and regimental walk, he cut a refined figure in comparison to many of the local men. She overlooked his conceit; his conversation had been full of boasting.
‘When you’ve known Laura as long as I have, Bruce, you’ll know how much she’ll love to meet you. Anyway, if she and Spencer wanted to be really private they would have gone away on honeymoon.’
‘I guess so. I hope they like me. I want to get along with all the local folk.’
‘I’m sure you will, dear. It will be lovely having you around. The house and shop were broken into two years ago. I sometimes get a bit nervous at night.’
Rather than look for a job, Bruce had suggested he help his mother in the shop. Wanting to catch up on all those lost years, Daisy had readily agreed.
He rubbed her hand affectionately. ‘You won’t have no worries on that score now, Mum. Just let ’em try. I’ve never served in a shop before, it’ll be fun. And you won’t have to lift anything heavy now I’m here. I saw for myself how big some of the boxes in the storeroom are. I can cook too so you won’t have to slave over a hot stove for me every day. I’ll make a start on the garden tomorrow. It needs a man to give it a good digging over.’
Daisy laughed heartily. ‘I’ll be quite the most spoiled woman in Kilgarthen.’ She was certainly one of the happiest right now.
They could hear a pony’s hooves coming up behind them and moved in close to the hedge of the narrow lane to allow room for a jingle to pass. Bruce stared at the extremely fat woman driving it. She was an awesome sight in a voluminous tartan cloak and Victorian bonnet.
Daisy spoke to her. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Noon. Out for a little drive?’
‘I am, Mrs Tamblyn,’ the elderly woman replied airily, only slowing the tawny pony down a little as she drove straight past.
‘I remember that old lady,’ Bruce said, gazing at the back of the jingle which was badly in need of fresh paint. ‘She never was very friendly. We used to call her Ma Noon. You didn’t like us going near her or her place because you thought she was mad. We kids used to sneak onto her property to tease her and, I’m ashamed to admit, throw stones at her pig and goats and bang on her chicken run: It was untidy on the outside but there were rumours about her being filthy rich, that her house was like a palace inside. That’s what we kids used to say, anyway.’
Daisy was thinking about the strange old woman who had never had anything to do with the village since the days of her marriage; she had been a widow for forty years. ‘I never knew it at the time, but when Billy was a boy he used to go there a lot. He got on with her quite well. He was the only one she was friendly with. He never said anything about her having a posh place. She hasn’t had any livestock for years now. I expect it got too much for her. She must be in her seventies. Her pony doesn’t look as if it’s got many years left in it. She could have money, I suppose. She must have come from rich people in the first place, you only have to listen to her speak to know she’s not one of us. People said she married beneath her when she came to Kilgarthen. Mind you, she never spends much money in the shop.’ Daisy chuckled. ‘Perhaps she’s got heaps of money hidden under her mattress.’
Bruce looked at his mother deeply. ‘You really think so?’
‘I was only joking, silly,’ she answered, taking his arm again.
* * *
Celeste heard the car pull up with a screech of brakes and beckoned to Harry from Little Cot’s doorway. He got out, but before he asked her what she wanted he ogled her voluptuous figure in slacks and a tight sweater. Her breasts stuck out like overripe melons as they vied for room on her chest with several long strings of bouncing beads. Her hips and bottom looked as if they had trouble being contained in the sleek material.
‘I forgot to tell you yesterday that Laura wants some of her things taken over to the farm,’ she said, enjoying his appreciation of her. ‘Would you be a darling, Harry, and carry them to the car?’
Harry stepped inside the front room and ran a hand over her shapely bottom. ‘I will – if you’ll be a darling to me later tonight.’
Harry had been quite rough in his lovemaking the other day but she was happy to comply. She missed Laura’s company and would be glad of his. ‘If you’re sure you’re not seen coming to the cottage. I won’t be living here for long but I don’t want to make enemies.’
‘I’ll be careful,’ Harry promised, grinning salaciously.
Felicity and Vicki were sitting in the back of the sedan. As they watched Harry pile two suitcases and some bags into the boot, Vicki wrinkled up her nose and declared petulantly, ‘I don’t want that awful woman coming with us. She tries to take Laura away from me.’
‘But she’s Laura’s friend,’ Felicity explained, smoothing the girl’s shiny hair. ‘Laura said she could come to tea with us today. She can’t leave Miss Cunningham alone all the time, that would be unkind.’
Felicity had not missed the amorous looks passing between Harry and the other woman and she had also seen Celeste’s interest in Ince. She noticed that Celeste had sensible flat shoes on today; if Ince went out in the yard alone… ‘I don’t expect she’ll stay long,’ Felicity added tartly.
Harry opened the front passenger door and Celeste got in in a flurry of exaggerated feminine movements and strong musky perfume. Vicki waved her hand in front of her face and coughed rudely. Felicity tapped Vicki’s arm chidingly. They set off with a roar of engine and squeal of tyres. Johnny Prouse heard the racket from his back garden where he was feeding his bantam hens. ‘One of these days,’ he told them, ‘that young man is going to kill someone rushing round the lanes like a mad hound.’
Moments later the car flashed past Daisy and Bruce, tossing up dust and grit and disappearing round the next bend. Bruce had heard it coming and quickly pulled Daisy to the comparative safety of a ditch. He shook his fist at the sedan, his face furious. ‘Bloody damned idiot! What’s he trying to prove?’
They heard a screech of brakes.
‘I think he’s stopped for us,’ Daisy said, her heart dancing from the fright as she pulled bits of twig and bramble off her dress. She could smell wild garlic where her legs had been squashed against it.
‘Good,’ Bruce snapped, marching off along the lane. His face had turned red and his body was shaking. ‘I’ll punch his bloody nose for him.’
‘Oh, Bruce,’ Daisy rushed after him. ‘I don’t want no unpleasantness.’
On rounding the bend, Harry had brought the car to a halt. Felicity and Vicki were flung about and Celeste fell forward and bumped her head on the lacquered dashboard.
‘I’ll see if they’re going to Rosemerryn,’ Harry said, reaching for the door handle.
‘I shouldn’t think they’d want a lift anywhere with you,’ Felicity said angrily. ‘And if you don’t drive carefully in future, neither will I. Don’t forget you have Vicki in the car. What would Spencer say if she was hurt?’ She saw Celeste rubbing her forehead. ‘Are you all right, Miss Cunningham?’
As Harry looked in horror at what he had done to Celeste, his door was pulled open and he was hauled out of the car. ‘What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing? You nearly killed me and my mother,’ Bruce screamed. His face was contorted with rage.
‘I – I’m sorry,’ Harry gulped. He was truly sorry because it hadn’t registered there wa
s someone on the road until he’d nearly ploughed into them. But he would not be manhandled and he tore Bruce’s hands from his sports jacket and pushed him off.
Bruce’s back hit the hedge but he promptly sprang back. ‘People like you should be bloody hanged. Driving around like you own the bloody road.’
‘Bruce!’ Daisy reached out a restraining hand which he shrugged off. He wasn’t finished yet.
Felicity had wound the window down. ‘Would you please stop swearing? There’s a child in this car and she can hear every word and you’re frightening her.’
Bruce shot Felicity a look of pure venom. She wound the window up rapidly and pulled Vicki protectively into her arms.
‘I stopped to ask you if you were walking to Rosemerryn and to offer you a lift,’ Harry said, unafraid of this glowering stranger and angered by his aggressive attitude. ‘I wish I’d never bothered.’
‘I wouldn’t ride in your damn car if you paid me,’ Bruce spat. Glancing at the child staring at him on the back seat, he dropped his voice. ‘Hoity-toity bastard.’
‘I won’t fight in front of the women but any other time you like…’ Harry said dangerously.
Bruce poked him viciously in the chest. ‘Our turn’ll come, you can count on it.’
Daisy was nearly in tears. ‘We can’t go on to Rosemerryn now, Bruce. We’ll have to call on Laura another time.’
‘Better still, wait till she calls at the shop,’ Harry said acidly. ‘I don’t want him anywhere near my niece.’
‘We’ll go where we bloody well like,’ Bruce snarled, raising his fist again.
‘Bruce, please,’ Daisy pleaded, tugging on his arm. ‘Let’s go home.’
Bruce’s head jutted forward a few times like a turtle trying to slip off its shell then he reluctantly gave way and the company parted. Bruce strode back to the shop, his bull neck bent down, hands rammed in his pockets. Daisy’s joy in the afternoon had been ruined.
The three adults in the car knew they couldn’t give a watered-down version of what had happened in the lane, for Vicki was a forthright child who liked excitement and would blurt out the truth. She hadn’t been afraid as Felicity had said, certain that her Uncle Harry could easily fend off the horrible man. After she had excitedly kissed her father and new stepmother and gleefully told them she hadn’t gone to sleep last night until after midnight, Vicki brought the subject up and even elaborated on the story. Spencer took a lot of consoling. He was more angry with Harry for his reckless driving than with Bruce Tamblyn’s foul language and outrage, which he thought was justified in the circumstances. He extracted a solemn promise from Harry that he would never drive like that with Vicki in the car again.
‘It’s a pity for Daisy,’ Laura said, putting food left over from the reception on the table. ‘She must have been so upset at not being able to come here and introduce her son to me.’
‘What do you want to meet a character like him for?’ Spencer asked disbelievingly, helping her lay the table. He might sympathise with Bruce’s right to rail against Harry but he didn’t like the sound of the man.
‘Well, he is Daisy’s son. She hasn’t seen him for years. I’m curious about him.’ Laura looked at Celeste who was sitting in a fireside chair holding a damp cloth to her head. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Celeste?’
‘It’s just a little bump,’ Celeste replied as if she was trying to be brave.
Four pairs of accusing eyes alighted on Harry. Fed up with being treated like a criminal, he went outside for a cigarette.
Ince didn’t appear for tea and Laura put a plate of sandwiches, cake and tiny sausage rolls aside for him. Spencer went outside to do some work and Vicki tagged along happily with Barney. Celeste said she was going for a short stroll. Felicity dried the dishes as Laura washed them.
‘I did so enjoy having Vicki last night,’ Felicity said meaningfully, pausing as she carefully wiped the bottom plate of a three-tier cake stand, a wedding present.
‘I’m sure Spencer will let her do it again,’ Laura said, peering out of the window, not paying much attention.
‘But you’ve got some influence now, Laura,’ Felicity pointed out.
‘Yes, I suppose.’ Laura pulled aside the curtain and leaned over the sink to get a wider view of the yard.
‘What are you looking for?’
‘Ince. I can’t help wondering why he didn’t come home for his tea.’
‘Oh, Laura, you’re not actually worried about him?’ Felicity was amused. ‘Ince is a big boy now. He doesn’t need a mother.’
‘I know that, Felicity. But you didn’t see him this morning. He looked so out of place. This is his home. I don’t want him to think he’s not wanted any more because I’m Spencer’s wife and living here now.’
‘Well, you seem to have got used to your new situation as Spencer’s wife very quickly. It took me a whole month to get used to the idea of being a married woman.’
Laura looked at Felicity. It must be difficult for her having another woman take her daughter’s place. Felicity didn’t return her gaze; she busied herself putting the cutlery in the drawer. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said without looking up. ‘I’ll get used to it.’
Celeste lit a cigarette and leaned against the low granite wall of the small paddock where Spencer’s horse, Splendour, and the farm nag Brindle were kept. She watched the two horses for a while, both of them having the characteristics suggested by their names, and she envied them their companionship. Gloomily she ran a finger in and out of the rough speckled grey contours of a large stone. Laura wasn’t the only one to be disappointed that Ince wasn’t here. But what was the use if he was? Nothing could come out of a liaison with him or any other man. Did she really want the same sort of relationship with him as with Harry? Celeste sighed, asking herself why she had been man-mad all her life. Men had brought her nothing but trouble so far, but she had to admit that the situation she was now in was her own fault.
She saw Ince coming through the gateway of the next field when she was stubbing out her cigarette. He was plodding along dejectedly, his crib bag in danger of slipping off his hunched shoulder. Celeste entered the paddock. She didn’t want her chase to be too obvious and she knew Ince was too caring and polite to ignore her. Splendour trotted up to her and she stroked his glossy black mane.
Ince was dismayed to see Celeste. He was in no mood to fight off the bait she dangled so brazenly in front of him. ‘Hello, Celeste,’ he said cagily at some distance away.
‘Hello, Ince.’ Celeste pretended nonchalance to put him off his guard. ‘Laura’s quite concerned about you. She was expecting you for tea.’
Pausing for a moment, looking her squarely in the eyes, he muttered, ‘I felt like roaming the moor.’
She was determined to hold a conversation with him. ‘You’ve scratched your face.’
He put his fingers to the stinging spot on his cheek. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘You look tired.’
‘I feel tired.’
He started walking again and Celeste, seeing him slipping through her fingers, ran up to him. She took his hand. ‘I could make you feel better.’
He pulled his hand away roughly. ‘Look, Celeste, I’d like to be friends with you, nothing more. Got that?’ She would have tried a little gentle persuasion, he was such an attractive man and in his present inexplicable mood, his rugged face furrowed, he looked more appealing than ever, but she sensed a rawness, an intensity about him. She knew he wouldn’t be trifled with. And he would be good to have as a friend; she might be glad of someone she could turn to in the future.
‘Very well,’ she smiled softly. ‘Friends it is. Brindle’s a sweetie and Spencer’s horse is magnificent, isn’t he? I understand you moorland farmers herd your cattle using horses. I’ve seen Spencer’s stock of little wild moorland ponies, they’re fascinating,’ she glanced at Hawk’s Tor, ‘like the moor.’
‘It’s how I find it,’ Ince said, sounding a little more friendly. ‘I’d better go i
n, to stop Laura worrying about me.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Celeste said, rubbing her forehead. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache. Perhaps Laura’s got an aspirin.’
Ince eased his long strides and took a closer look at her and realised that despite her make-up she was rather pale. ‘You don’t look very well.’ He took her arm to help her along.
‘Harry pulled up sharply in the car and I bumped my head on the dashboard. Come to think of it, I feel a bit dizzy too.’ She leaned heavily on Ince’s arm.
‘Do you want me to carry you?’
‘I think you’d better. I—’
Her legs gave out and Ince had to move fast to support her limp body or Celeste would have crumpled to the ground. He gathered her up in his arms and rushed to the farmhouse. Laura, who had seen them from the kitchen window, came hastening outside to meet them.
‘What’s happened to her?’
‘I don’t know. One minute we were talking, the next she just keeled over. She told me she’d banged her head in Harry’s car.’
‘It’s all his fault,’ Laura said crossly. ‘You’d better carry her inside and I’ll send Harry to get the doctor. Lay her on my bed, Ince.’ Then Laura tutted, ‘We need a telephone here. I’ll talk to Spencer about it.’
Felicity had followed on Laura’s heels. ‘I’ll fetch Harry,’ she said, feeling guilty on her son’s behalf.
Celeste came round at the same moment Ince laid her on the double bed. ‘What happened?’ she mumbled, trying to sit up. ‘What am I doing here?’
‘You fainted,’ Laura explained softly, brushing red hair from her flushed cheeks and gently removing her rows of beads. ‘We’re going to send Harry for the doctor.’
‘I don’t need a doctor.’ Celeste chuckled and Laura was afraid she was getting hysterical.
‘Yes, you do,’ Laura insisted. ‘You were hurt more than you thought when Harry suddenly stopped his car.’ Celeste laughed loudly and clutched her head as it ached dully. ‘Ooh. I’m telling you I don’t need a doctor. The reason why I fainted has nothing to do with Harry’s careless driving.’
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