Rosemerryn

by Rosemerryn (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’ll have to be, Harry,’ she replied.

  She refused his offer to take her home and crunched over the gravel drive, disillusioned, annoyed, not in the mood to receive any act of kindness. It wasn’t fair that she should be held responsible for her husband’s mean character, his appalling behaviour. She and Ince had done nothing wrong, why should they be punished as if they had? It didn’t occur to her that people would be bearing ill will towards Spencer for his outburst.

  She squeezed into Andrew’s car and no one spoke a word. At Tregorlan Farm, Tressa, Jacka and Joan got out with Guy and said goodbye. Andrew took her on to Rosemerryn Farm.

  ‘I suppose I ought to tell you what this is all about,’ she murmured wearily.

  ‘You don’t have to, Laura. We know that whatever it is, it’s not your or Ince’s fault.’

  ‘You don’t believe the gossip then?’

  ‘That you and Ince must be having an affair? Of course not. The very idea is ludicrous. Everyone will see that when the fuss dies down. Spencer’s got his wires crossed somewhere. He’s probably sorry already.’

  ‘He won’t be that sorry, Andrew.’ Laura flushed, embarrassed, but she thought it better that Andrew know the truth. ‘You see, Ince and I were lovers, it only happened once, soon after I settled in Kilgarthen. The time wasn’t right for anything permanent to come out of it, but if we hadn’t had our romance so soon after Bill’s death, and if it wasn’t for Vicki, we might well have been married now.’

  Andrew raised his fair brows but said nothing.

  ‘I’m very fond of Ince. He’s so kind and gentle it would be hard for anyone not to like him. I haven’t treated him any differently since Spencer and I got married but Spencer has been jealous of us all along. Ince has changed a little since the wedding. With Spencer sometimes being difficult and unfriendly towards him, he’s been quiet and rather offhand. I don’t know what this will do to him now. Ohh! I could kill Spencer for what he’s done. How can he be so unfair?’

  They had reached the track that led up to Rosemerryn Farm. ‘Come back with me, Laura. Let him have tonight on his own to cool down.’

  ‘I think I would do that, Andrew, but I’m worried about Vicki. She’ll be wondering where I am. She was upset when Spencer suddenly marched her off without an explanation and she needs to be cared for with only Spencer working on the farm.’

  ‘But I shall be worried about you.’

  ‘There’s a telephone at Rosemerryn now. I can always call you. I’ll ring you tomorrow and let you know how things are.’

  Andrew pulled up a few feet away from the yard and Laura hurriedly said goodnight. If Spencer was about, it was likely Andrew would give him a few choice words and she didn’t want to risk a scene between the two men.

  Barney came bounding up to her. He was in an aggressive mood. He didn’t bark or jump up at her but growled long and low and bared his big teeth. Laura skirted round him, her spirits sinking lower, feeling unwelcome in her own home.

  It took a lot of courage to go through the back kitchen and into the main kitchen. Vicki and Spencer were sitting glumly at the table, an uneaten meal of scrambled egg on toast before them. Spencer kept his head down over his plate. His breathing was heavy and impatient. Vicki got down from the table and ran to her.

  ‘Where have you been, Mummy? We came home ages ago. Daddy said we had to leave but I don’t know why. He said Uncle Ince isn’t going to live with us any more or work here. Is that true? Doesn’t he love us any more?’

  Fearful that Spencer would lose his temper again, Laura gave the explanations she had worked out on the way home in case Vicki asked her some awkward questions. ‘Ince is going to live with Mr Prouse, Vicki. Mr Prouse hasn’t got any company and it seemed silly for him to be all alone when there are lots of us living here. Uncle Ince has got another job. It’s not unusual, Vicki, for someone to change their job and work somewhere else.’

  ‘Daddy won’t tell me why he hit Uncle Ince.’

  This was more difficult to explain away. When Laura said, ‘That was a mistake, Vicki,’ Spencer let out an angry sigh of breath.

  Vicki wasn’t in the least bit comforted. Before Laura had come on the scene, Ince had been the second most important person in her life. ‘But Uncle Ince has always worked here. He didn’t even say goodbye to me. I’ll miss him.’

  ‘Of course you will, darling.’ Laura hugged her tearful stepdaughter close. ‘Listen, why don’t you eat your tea and then you can play with the painting book you won on the tombola at the fete. I brought it home for you.’

  Vicki did as Laura suggested, eating a little food then getting out her paint box when Laura cleared the table and fetched a jam jar of water for her. She was only partly placated, her parents weren’t speaking, hardly looking at each other, and the atmosphere in the room hung like a heavy cloud. She glanced at them often, feeling anxious and a little afraid. Laura was sitting at the table, encouraging her, but her face looked strangely distorted, she wasn’t as beautiful as she usually was, her make-up was smudged. Daddy was standing by the sink, his arms folded grimly, staring straight ahead into space.

  Vicki was an intelligent child, she knew parents lied to their children to spare their feelings. Was Laura fed up being her mummy even though she was paying attention to her? Did her daddy not want Laura to be here any more? She’d seen her daddy hit Uncle Ince to the ground as if he hated him. She didn’t believe it was a mistake. She had never seen Daddy hit anyone before. Had Uncle Ince done something terribly bad? Daddy had snatched her away from Hawksmoor. Would he stop her from seeing Grandma and Uncle Harry like he did before? Daddy had admitted it was his fault that he’d kept her away from the Leans all that time, so was he being horrible about them again?

  She’d painted a few green leaves on a tree in her painting book but she was sniffing. Eventually huge tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Spencer hurried to the table and picked her up and hugged her. ‘There, there, pipkin. You’ve had a tiring day. Daddy will give you a wash and help you clean your teeth and put you to bed. Then I’ll read you a story. How about The Gingerbread Man? It’s your favourite.’ His voice was tender and melodious, but gilded with the odd clipped tone that gave away his gall.

  Vicki nodded mournfully. Laura wanted to kiss her goodnight and try to reassure her but Spencer made no move to bring Vicki to her. When they’d reached the stairs, she said gently, ‘Good night, Vicki. I’ll come up and kiss you and tuck you in in a little while.’

  Laura washed the dishes and made herself some coffee. She made a sandwich but couldn’t eat it. She sat and waited for her husband to come downstairs. She hoped they could talk their problems through. He had caused their estrangement, but this was his home, she’d wait for him to speak first and she was determined not to raise her voice for Vicki’s sake, no matter what he said, what accusations he hurled at her. She’d spent every moment thinking hard in the drawing room of Hawksmoor House. Her first marriage had been a disaster but she had been married to a cruel, amoral man, nothing she did or could have done would have softened Bill Jennings towards her. Spencer’s wrath was inexcusable, yet a tiny part of her understood his reasons.

  Celeste had made sense. Spencer probably was vulnerable where women and relationships were concerned. He possessed none of Harry’s raffishness or Andrew’s natural confidence. Natalie had been the only love of his life and he had been hurt more than most when he’d lost her.

  Laura knew she had been unwise to marry Spencer without a proper courtship. He had loved his wife desperately. She had come to hate Bill with all her heart. A second marriage for either of them should have meant more than convenience or sexual attraction. They should have got to know each other really well first, seen if they were compatible. She would have known then that she should have told him all about herself and Ince. She had tried hard with Bill Jennings, and for Vicki’s sake she would try harder with Spencer. It would not be easy to forgive him for his public display of rage, for what he
had called her, but she did want her marriage to work. All that remained was to see if he would let her stay.

  When Spencer came down, his face like granite, back held stiff and straight, he went straight out to the yard. Laura didn’t sit and mope. It looked as if she was staying so she made some plans. Without Ince, Spencer would need manual help on the farm. She could quite ably milk the cows and look after the other livestock. She knew a little about haymaking and tomorrow she would work hard out of doors.

  She checked on Vicki and found her sleeping fitfully, then, to get a good start the next day, she did some hand washing, prepared the joint for a roast, peeled vegetables, swept the floor and mats and repaired a big rip in Spencer’s work jumper.

  It was much later than usual when he finally came back in, smelling of tobacco smoke and whisky from the little bottle he kept in his coat pocket to warm him in bad weather. Laura had made fresh tea and handed him a mugful. She looked him steadily in the eye, willing him to say something.

  ‘So you came back here?’ he said sternly, putting the mug, untouched, on the table.

  It wasn’t easy but she kept up her stare. ‘It is my home, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied as if he had grit in his throat. ‘I knew you’d come back, for Vicki’s sake. That’s the only reason I’m prepared to tolerate you being here.’

  His words were like tiny stinging slaps to her face. She would not allow him to upset her, however. ‘Can I get you some supper?’

  ‘Is that all you’ve got to say, the devil take you, woman!’

  She flinched. It was with great difficulty she stopped herself from bursting into tears of hurt and indignation. ‘All right. If you want to talk about what happened at the fete then we’ll talk. But don’t let’s shout at each other or we’ll wake up Vicki and frighten her.’

  Spencer bit back a remark about knowing how to be a good father; he was ashamed that he had behaved badly in front of Vicki at Hawksmoor and he had snapped at her a couple of times on the way home.

  ‘Okay, talk,’ he scowled.

  She took in an involuntary deep breath. ‘First of all I want you to believe that nothing has happened between me and Ince since that one time. I only wish that you and I had got to know each other better before we’d married. I would have seen then that you would have needed to know all about us.’

  She waited for him to make a contribution but he kept a stony face.

  ‘We’re more like brother and sister now.’

  Still he didn’t speak. His intransigence was excruciating. Angered, she tossed an accusation at him. ‘You were out of order hitting Ince like that.’

  His face hardened. ‘Maybe I was, but you like him more than me, don’t you?’

  Did his jealousy go that far? ‘That’s hardly surprising with the way you behave, wouldn’t you say, Spencer?’

  ‘I behaved like a man who was convinced his wife was being unfaithful. We’ve got to know each other pretty well since our wedding night. You could have told me you’d made love with Ince. If your relationship was so innocent, why didn’t you say so? I thought there was a deep affection growing between us, we may even have fallen in love. Huh! That’s a laugh.’

  ‘Your jealousy was so obvious I was afraid to tell you.’ She stood her ground. ‘You should have known us better than to think we were betraying you.’

  ‘I’ve found out that I didn’t know either of you at all.’

  ‘So we’re back to that, are we?’

  ‘Yes, we are,’ he raised his voice, ‘and it’ll stick in my craw for the rest of my life.’

  ‘Please be reasonable, Spencer—’

  There was a loud knock on the door. Laura jumped and Spencer let out a foul oath. He opened the door to Mike Penhaligon and Kinsley Farrow.

  They both pushed past Spencer and approached Laura. There was no doubt where their loyalties lay. ‘Are you all right, m’dear?’ Mike asked gravely and the vicar repeated the question.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she told them firmly.

  There was an uneasy silence, then Mike’s voice boomed at Spencer, ‘You still determined to chuck Ince out on his ear?’

  Spencer gazed coldly at Laura for some moments. ‘Yes.’

  ‘We’ll take the things he’ll need for a few days and come back for the rest,’ Kinsley said gravely.

  Laura directed the two men to Ince’s room then appealed to Spencer. ‘Please don’t do this, not this way. You and Ince have been friends all your lives.’

  For once it looked as if it was Spencer who was going to cry. He said quietly, ‘Well, he can’t stay, not after…’

  No, he wouldn’t want to, Laura thought with pain tearing at her heart.

  When Mike and Kinsley made to leave with a bag and battered old suitcase, Spencer handed them an envelope. ‘Give him this. It’s his wages. Tell him I’ll send him a month’s severance pay.’

  Kinsley put the envelope inside his breast pocket. ‘This is a sorry day for Kilgarthen, I must say. Well, if either of you want me or Roslyn, you know where to find us.’

  The moment they had gone, Spencer shot Laura a look so cold and hostile that she knew he was blaming her for coming between him and his best friend.

  ‘You can sleep in his room from now on,’ he said in that same accusing tone.

  ‘No! I’m your wife and I’ll sleep in your bed.’

  ‘Then I’ll sleep in the blasted barn.’

  ‘That’s up to you.’ She made one more effort. ‘Instead of quarrelling, we’d do better to try and make things up.’

  But Spencer was in no mood for conciliation tonight. Without another word he went outside and Laura heard him calling Barney. He hadn’t reappeared after an hour so she went to bed and cried herself to sleep.

  Chapter 16

  A sudden heavy shower of rain had broken up and dispersed a low hazy mist, making the air smell strongly of fresh wet earth, leaves, grass, dung, honeysuckle and wild dog roses. Celeste put away the cigarette she was about to light and instead breathed in the mixture of the basic and the romantic offered by the countryside. This would do her much more good.

  Having mastered the intricacies of the range in Little Cot, she was fortified by a hearty breakfast and was taking her time walking along Rosemerryn Lane. She felt full and satisfied, didn’t mind that she was putting on a little weight, but she wasn’t looking forward to arriving at Rosemerryn Farm. She wandered a little way onto the moor, absorbing the sights and sounds and colours, particularly liking the wide sweeps of the various species of heather. She picked a sprig and pinned it to her cardigan with the brooch she was wearing. Dense tussocks of spiky, purple moor grass were in flower, birds trilled and there was the grating and chirping of grasshoppers. How could anyone who lived and worked in such magnificent, peaceful surroundings not fall in with its natural harmony? She wanted to stay here and let it seep into her bones, the deepest fibre of her being, but she had to carry on.

  She was in no doubt that Laura needed her company and friendship right now, but she didn’t want to see the defeated expression that would be marring Laura’s beautiful face this morning, the pain, worry, disbelief that her second marriage had gone so badly wrong so soon, and in public. Celeste wanted to beat Spencer about the head with whatever farm implement was handy. At least the vile Bill Jennings had left Laura with a scrap of pride, keeping his contempt for her well under wraps for appearances’ sake. Spencer Jeffries was nothing but a foul-mouthed lout, a bully, a beast like those he bred.

  How could Spencer believe Laura and Ince were having an affair? The man must have gone mad! Thanks to Spencer hitting Ince to the ground as if he was Errol Flynn, gossip about them was rife. If he had been suspicious something was going on, why hadn’t he done the decent thing and simply confronted them? What did he have to be suspicious of anyway? Men and women may not be so openly friendly in small country environments but didn’t he know people of her and Laura’s background often kissed and called each other darling? That was what Celeste as
sumed had caused Spencer’s suspicions. Buffoon! Idiot! Barbarian!

  She thought of Ince then, lying on the ground, his face bleeding. Her heart had gone out to him but another woman had got to him first to give him succour and press a handkerchief to his wound. The mysterious Eve Pascoe with her quiet dignity, which seemed almost casual but which Celeste could tell was ingrained in her, had caused more speculation and excitement than Celeste’s own appearance in the village. There was obviously an interesting story behind her and Celeste pondered on it. No doubt Ada Prisk would soon be calling at the little place where the Pascoe woman lived with her odious-looking grandfather, the place reputed to be haunted by any amount of ghosts and demons; and Ada would pass on whatever she so expertly found out. Celeste picked a long grass swaying in the cool wind from the over-burdened hedgerow and grinned as she slipped it between her neat white teeth. If the art of obtaining tittle-tattle could make one wealthy then Ada would have been a millionairess many years ago.

  The church bells echoed up and down the hilly horizons, calling the faithful to worship. Amid interest in the chosen texts, sermons, hymns and prayers, there would be whispers in both church and chapel this morning, the pews packed a little more than usual. The moment the services were over, people would gather among the headstones and behind the chapel walls, which the two ministers could do nothing to stop. Those at the sharp end of the ruminations would not be there. Celeste was sure Spencer wouldn’t want to go to church. Laura wouldn’t be able to face it. Johnny Prouse had told her that Ince, nursing a splitting headache, would not be attending chapel.

  The moment Celeste’s feet, in her only pair of flat shoes, stout yet feminine lace-ups, struck a cobblestone on Rosemerryn she knew she had been right. Laura immediately came running to her.

  ‘I’m so glad to see you. I knew you’d come today.’ She was dressed in her boots, old trousers and one of Spencer’s work shirts. A scarf pulled her hair back severely from her pale face. She looked only partly a farmer’s wife in her shapeless clothes suited to hard work, no make-up or fancy hairstyle, but her haggard looks let her down; no rosy face bursting with health and vigour here.