Rosemerryn

by Rosemerryn (retail) (epub)

  ‘Don’t you dare touch it,’ a man with a hooked nose at the stall rebuked him sharply. ‘You won’t have the one and six to pay for it.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to break it,’ Alfie retorted, making a rude gesture. ‘’Tisn’t very good anyway. Could do much better meself.’

  ‘Get away with you!’ The man waved his arms about.

  ‘Silly old sod!’ Alfie shouted. He ran off and his brothers followed him giggling.

  Two women on the knitting and crochet stall looked worried for their wares as they ran past, but a motherly fat woman working on the book stall beckoned to them.

  ‘Yes, what is it, missus?’ Alfie asked warily.

  She held out a bundle of dog-eared magazines tied up with string. ‘Would you like these, my handsome? Perhaps your mother would like to look through them.’

  Alfie looked at the woman cock-eyed. ‘Have they got glamour pictures in them? I collect pictures of Betty Grable and Ginger Rogers.’

  ‘They might have,’ the woman chuckled. ‘Come back later and I’ll see if I can find some comics for you and your brothers.’

  Alfie thanked her, then clutching the bundle under his sweaty armpit he looked around for Rachael Farrow who was always guaranteed to give him a lick of her lolly. Then the artful boy saw someone who just might be persuaded to part with some brass.

  ‘Hello, Ince. Don’t you look smart today. I’m just taking my brothers off to watch the Punch and Judy show. I was thinking of buying ’em an ice cream but I haven’t got—’

  ‘Any money,’ Ince finished for him in a light-hearted manner. ‘Come with me, all of you, to the ice-cream stall.’

  ‘Wizard!’

  Laura was on her way to take her turn at manning the white elephant stall when she saw Ince buying ice-cream cornets for the children. He was standing a little back from them to keep his smart choir blazer clean. Some people were making a wide detour of the little family, muttering uncomplimentary remarks.

  ‘They’ve as much right to be here as you have,’ Ince hissed at a man who’d declared he couldn’t understand why Mrs Lean was allowing ‘the likes of they’ to stay.

  ‘Miserable sod! Hope yer false teeth break in ’alf and choke ya!’ Alfie shouted after him, but he didn’t seem upset. Insults were water off a duck’s back as far as he was concerned. He looked Laura up and down then grinned impishly. ‘You’re pretty. You were the bride, weren’t you?’

  ‘That’s right, Alfie. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had the chance to meet you properly.’ Laura would have offered him her hand to shake but apart from dripping ice cream, Alfie’s had a thick layer of grime and blood on it.

  When Alfie had learned at a much younger age that his uncleanliness, ill-bred habits and cheekiness could shock people, he looked for this reaction. It got him into trouble often but was worth it for the reputation he’d obtained as a fearless rebel-rouser, an heroic figure of sorts to his brothers and other children. He had just the right remark for this beautiful blonde-haired lady.

  He screwed up his features, making his pug face. ‘You should have married Ince. He’d ’ave made ’ee a much better husband. I ’ear yours is as moody as the moor.’

  Laura was shocked but took her cue from Ince who just shook his head wryly. ‘Perhaps I should have waited a few years,’ she said, ‘until you grew up, Alfie, and married you instead.’

  Alfie’s mouth gaped open in an uneven O; he hadn’t expected that and turned his back on her. ‘Can we all ’ave some candyfloss as well, Ince?’

  ‘I’ll think about it, but only if you say please,’ Ince replied. He couldn’t get cross at the boy’s sauce and his brothers’ hopeful little faces. Heaven knew they had little enough in life. A chorus of delight drowned out the fair organ for a moment as he placed some coins in Alfie’s hand.

  ‘Mind your brothers aren’t sick,’ Ince warned lightly.

  Alfie’s thanks expired on his thin, cracked lips. He could hear his mother quarrelling shrilly with Ada Prisk and he dashed off, weaving in and out of the throng, to see what the fuss was about. His brothers followed in his wake like ducklings swimming after their mother.

  ‘He’s a good child really,’ Ince said, referring to Alfie, gazing fondly and sadly after them.

  ‘It’s a pity they’ve had such a poor start in life,’ Laura said, thinking about the difference between their lives and Vicki’s and Joy Miller’s children. ‘They are so dreadfully neglected. Celeste has told me about her plans to help the Urens. I must ask Spencer if we could have them over on the farm one day. They’d probably enjoy that.’

  ‘Rosemerryn is your home,’ Ince said darkly. ‘Why not just invite them over?’

  Laura had not missed the note of antagonism in Ince’s voice and the shadow that crept across his rugged features. Ince was going out of his way to be his usual kindly, patient self but Spencer’s moments of unreasonable jealousy had done some damage. Ince adored Vicki but he took less interest in her these days. Spencer hadn’t seemed to notice it but Laura knew Ince was no longer happy at the farm.

  ‘I want Spencer and me to talk everything over, that’s why,’ she explained gently. ‘Ince, I know things haven’t been easy for you since we got married but I—’

  ‘Good Lord! Well, I never.’

  ‘What is it? You look quite shocked.’ Laura followed the direction of Ince’s wide dark eyes. A lot of people were milling about but she could see who he was staring at. Dressed up in his old badly fitting suit and tie, a broad smile on his raddled face, Les Tremorrow was strolling in a dignified manner with a young woman on his arm. Laura glanced at Ince and saw it was the woman who was claiming the greater part of his attention. She was an imposing figure. Her clothes were good quality, a simple narrow-waisted dress cut perfectly to her graceful form, concealing here, showing off a gentle curve there. A small hat sat at just the right angle on her immaculate short dark hair, a white clutch bag held in her gloved hand. People were giving her more than a second look.

  ‘Who on earth is that?’ another male voice breathed down Laura’s neck and startled her out of her unabashed scrutiny. ‘Not the most beautiful woman I’ve seen,’ Harry went on, ‘but she’s really something.’

  ‘I don’t know who she is,’ Laura whispered back, although Les and the young woman couldn’t possibly hear her. ‘I think Ince does though.’

  Harry slapped a hand on Ince’s shoulder, bringing him out of the mesmerised state he’d slipped into. ‘Introduce me to her, will you, Polkinghorne? I don’t care if you saw her first,’ Harry straightened his tie and murmured to himself, ‘I’ve simply got to get to know her.’

  Ince rubbed the place where Harry had slapped him but he seemed to have forgotten he was in Laura’s company. He walked away, leaving her and Harry dumbfounded.

  ‘You’ve come out into the open then?’ Ince said, standing directly in Les and Eve’s way.

  ‘Let me introduce you to my granddaughter, Ince,’ Les replied, looking deeply into Ince’s eyes as if pleading for understanding. ‘I’m glad you’re the first one to meet her. This is Miss Eve Pascoe.’

  ‘Pascoe?’

  Eve put out her hand and because Ince was mesmerised again and his hand hung at his side, she took it and shook it. He imprisoned her fingers. ‘So you’re still keeping secrets, are you?’ he said gruffly. Although he knew it was really none of his business, he was greatly irritated, and more than that he felt rejected, betrayed. He had thought the Tremorrows considered him a friend. It irked him that first he had been asked to keep Eve Tremorrow’s existence a secret, and now he had to go along with a lie about her real name.

  ‘If you please, Ince,’ she replied in coolly modulated tones, meeting his vexed stare boldly.

  He sighed heavily, as if some of Spencer’s belligerent character had rubbed off on him. ‘I hope you enjoy the fete, Miss Pascoe,’ he muttered ungraciously. He stalked off and bumped literally into Laura who had followed on his heels.

  Rather than int
roduce her to the other young woman, Ince grabbed her arm and dragged her away.

  ‘But I wanted to meet her,’ Laura protested as Ince kept his strong hands on her arms to stop her going after the Tremorrows. ‘Who is she? Why haven’t you told me you’ve met her before, Ince?’

  ‘She’s nobody special,’ Ince grunted. ‘She’s Les’s granddaughter.’

  ‘Granddaughter? I didn’t know Les had one. I don’t think anyone did. How long has she been at Carrick Cross? I take it that’s where you met her before. She’s very attractive.’ Laura thought the possible cause of Ince’s incongruous behaviour was that she had refused to go out with him. ‘Don’t you think?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about her.’

  ‘But you must do. Why are you being so grouchy? Come on, you can tell me. We’re friends.’

  Laura was suddenly yanked away from Ince. ‘What are you two doing?’ Spencer asked heatedly. ‘You’re making a spectacle of yourselves, standing in the middle of the lawn, holding on to one another for everyone to see. What the hell’s going on?’

  Ince was in no mood for Spencer’s possessiveness. ‘Nothing’s bloody going on,’ he snapped. ‘What’s the matter with you these days?’ Then he stalked off, his shoulder brushing Spencer’s and spinning him round.

  Laura clutched her husband tightly to stop him going after Ince. ‘We were only talking, Spencer. You seem to read something that isn’t there every time I speak to Ince.’

  ‘Are you sure nothing is there, Laura?’ he uttered between his teeth, and then he, too, strode off, in a different direction to Ince.

  Laura was furious with him. She looked about to see if anyone had witnessed Ince and Spencer’s discontent, and was dismayed to see that at least Harry had.

  ‘I was the only man he allowed to talk to Natalie,’ Harry remarked, his eyes on Spencer’s retreating back. ‘Well, never mind him. Who’s the mystery woman?’

  ‘Les Tremorrow’s granddaughter,’ Laura said dolefully. The fete was quite ruined for her now. Spencer would be quiet for hours when they got home. Well, she wasn’t prepared to wait until then, she’d have it out with him now, once and for all, before he lost Ince’s friendship for good and her respect. What sort of marriage would they have then? Not one that would be good for Vicki, that was certain. ‘Oh, go and find out all about her yourself, Harry.’

  Harry would have done just that but he saw a more important quarry close at hand, and needing some assistance. Tressa was struggling to get a pram wheel loose from the rope of a tent peg. He ran up to her.

  ‘Keep the pram still, Tressa,’ he ordered in a kindly voice, ‘or you’ll have the hoopla stall over.’

  Tressa wasn’t at all pleased to be given help by this man but she had no choice but to do as he said. As he unwound the rope from the pram wheel, she looked down on his thick black hair and Dolores’ warning ran uncomfortably through her mind.

  ‘There you are,’ he said, straightening up a few moments later. ‘You’re free to carry on your way.’

  Tressa waited for him to try to detain her, but he stepped back. Was he trying to fool her? Or had he lost interest in her at last and moved on to new pastures? Tressa was one of the many people who had noticed the attractive stranger with old Les Tremorrow, but unlike all the others whose eyes had only been on the woman, Tressa had seen Harry ogling her. It seemed silly to believe in the fortune-teller’s warning in the broad light of a sunny day when she was surrounded by so many people, her husband, father and aunt not far away. What could Harry do to harm her here anyway?

  ‘Thank you very much,’ she said, then added before making to walk on, ‘Your gardens are splendid this year. I’ve never seen so many butterflies about.’

  ‘Thank you. My mother’s very proud of the azaleas.’ Harry replied. He turned to walk in the other direction but then saw a marvellous opportunity. ‘Oh, look, it’s those poor little children from the village. Ada Prisk is shouting at their mother and they look terribly upset.’

  Tressa left her baby and stood beside Harry. He stole secret glances at her pretty little face while she watched in horror as Ada Prisk got stuck in to Dolores Uren in full venom. They had been quarrelling for some time and now their voices were raised, echoing clearly across the dip of Hawksmoor’s gardens that stretched out to the moor. An audience, many of whom were enjoying the spectacle, had gathered round them. Alfie and his brothers weren’t in fact the least bit upset; their mother wouldn’t back down under any circumstances and would probably win the day. Some kind soul had bought the children candyfloss and they were munching their way into a further sticky mess.

  ‘Evil, that’s what it is, and there’s no getting away from it,’ Ada shrieked.

  Dolores, her baby dressed in some of the clothes Tressa had passed on to her and tied with a shawl to her hip, pointed a long finger at the old woman. ‘You’ve a right to your views but there’s no need to speak to me like the dirt beneath your feet, woman. I won’t have it, do you hear?’

  ‘Do something, Harry,’ Tressa implored him.

  Harry had quite forgotten he was the host here and it was his responsibility to deal with any unpleasantness. Reluctantly, he left Tressa and approached the two warring women. ‘Now, now, ladies. This is a happy occasion. I suggest you part and go your separate ways.’

  ‘Oh, Mr Lean,’ Ada appealed to him. ‘This woman was going round making money by telling fortunes. I put a stop to it and she didn’t like it.’

  Harry couldn’t see that Dolores Uren had done anything wrong. She could hardly be blamed for trying to make a shilling or two for her large brood of children; her lazy husband didn’t do anything to provide for them. He turned to Dolores to hear her side of the story.

  ‘I was going to give half the proceeds to the fund to provide the village children with a play park,’ she said, indignation making white spots appear on her rouged cheeks. ‘’Tis for my kids’ benefit too. What business is it of hers anyway? If someone doesn’t want their fortune told, they don’t have to have it. I wasn’t forcing anyone.’

  This seemed satisfactory to Harry. ‘Well, we’ll leave it at that then.’

  ‘Benefit she took her children home and gave ’em all a good wash instead of bothering decent folk like we,’ someone in the crowd mumbled.

  Ada grunted self-righteously. ‘See, Mr Lean. We don’t want her sort here.’

  Tressa had lifted Guy out of his pram and pushed her way to the front of the crowd. ‘I don’t think that was charitable of you, Mrs Prisk.’

  Harry could see a big row brewing involving a lot of people and for his mother’s sake he didn’t want the fete ruined. She was beside him now with Vicki, clutching his arm somewhat fearfully; she was no good at calming troubled waters. But Harry couldn’t miss the opportunity of agreeing with Tressa and getting into her good books. ‘I agree with Mrs Macarthur there, Mrs Prisk. That remark was uncalled for.’

  Andrew had come looking for his wife and he pulled her gently towards him. ‘Keep out of this, darling. It’s none of our business.’

  ‘If you call yourselves a community then it’s all your business.’ Celeste’s tone was crisp and full of disgust. ‘Few of you have tried to be kind to the Urens, to get to know them for themselves. Because they have a different lifestyle you’ve allowed your prejudices to take precedence over your Christian values.’

  ‘It’s all right for you to talk but I lost my two sons during the war while her husband shirks his national service.’ This offering came from Jacka Davey who rarely gave an opinion in public. He moved to where he could be seen by all. ‘It’s not only prejudice here, Miss Cunningham, although there are those, particularly you, Mrs Prisk, who are against the family just because they’re a big one and they’m poor want locking up. Like Mrs Uren said, if you don’t approve of fortune-telling you don’t have to have it done. Folk can follow their own conscience. But you, Mrs Uren,’ Jacka turned gravely to Dolores, ‘should be ashamed of yourself for the neglect of your little children.
A bar of soap costs very little and while it doesn’t hurt to let them get grubby out playing, for the most part they should be kept clean. Good food should go into their stomachs instead of beer going down your man’s gullet. If people resent you for the way you’re bringing your children up then you can hardly be surprised if you provoke bad feelings wherever you live.’

  Jacka had finished. He left the gathering, silent now, and went off to the tea tent to wet his parched throat. Ada Prisk and Dolores Uren couldn’t look one another in the eye and many a face was directed uncomfortably at the ground.

  Kinsley Farrow had heard the end of the altercation and had kept his counsel during Jacka’s reproach. Now he told the crowd, ‘Well, I think Mr Davey has put his case over very well. I suggest we all take on board what he said and go about the business of enjoying ourselves.’

  The crowd duly broke up and scattered into small groups to mull over the afternoon’s happenings. Ada went back like a lamb to the cake stall. Dolores gathered her brood and left the grounds of Hawksmoor House. She was nearly in tears. She had received a lot of insults in her life and hadn’t cared at all, but faced with Jacka Davey’s calmly spoken accusations, in full hearing of her children, she was cut to the quick.

  Celeste caught her up as they herded out of the wrought-iron gates. ‘Mrs Uren, may I talk to you, please?’

  Dolores hesitated but this was the one person who had spoken up for her. ‘You take your brothers on home, Alfie,’ she told her eldest son who was abnormally subdued. When the children were out of earshot, she eyed Celeste. ‘What do you want with me, Miss Cunningham?’

  ‘I want to help you. Will you let me? I’ve worked with families in your circumstances before. I won’t patronise you, I promise.’

  Dolores shrugged her shoulders. ‘I might. I know why you’re concerned for Alfie and my others. I know why you’re here. I can see it in your face. I’m going home now. I have things to do. Call on me tomorrow if you want to.’