‘I went over to Rosemerryn yesterday. Laura asked me to pass on another invitation to you. She said you’re very welcome there at any time.’
‘I’m glad everything is settled between you and her husband.’ She added offhandedly, though her eyes were staring at him, ‘Will you be going back there to work?’
Ince thought back to yesterday. The best part had been when he’d walked into the yard and Vicki had seen him. Laura and Spencer had told her he was coming and she had been looking out for him. Her face had lit up like the sun coming out from behind the clouds and she had run to him, shouting excitedly, ‘Uncle Ince! Uncle Ince! Uncle Ince!’ He had gathered her up into his arms and she had smothered his face with joyful kisses. ‘Uncle Ince, you’ve come back. I waited and waited for you and you didn’t come. If you didn’t come today I was going to get Uncle Harry to take me to see you.’ Vicki had stayed at his side all afternoon and had taken him to see Pawley in his tent. He had been loath to leave her when he’d said goodbye after tea, promising he wouldn’t stay away again.
Ince was so wrapped up in the memory it took him a few moments before he realised Eve had sidestepped Laura’s invitation. This woman could open up then shut people out as quickly as others blinked.
‘Don’t you like her?’ he challenged Eve, determined to force a way into her secretiveness.
‘Mrs Jeffries? Why shouldn’t I?’
‘Well, you don’t seem to want to go to Rosemerryn.’
‘I didn’t say I didn’t want to go there,’ she said defensively.
Eve didn’t want to go to Rosemerryn Farm. Laura had been kindness and hospitality itself at the shop when they had taken Daisy home but somehow Eve hadn’t been able to respond. If Laura’s name had not been linked with Ince’s, Eve would have quickly formed a friendship with her. And if she had been more used to the ways of the world and adult relationships instead of witnessing them mainly in unreal circumstances in a class that was not hers, she would have realised that what she was feeling was good old-fashioned jealousy.
‘Then why didn’t you answer me just now?’ Ince persisted.
Eve’s calmness vanished and she made an impatient sound. She pouted and looked like a defiant schoolgirl, and seeing her like this for the first time, Ince’s heart gave a little jerk.
‘I’ve got nothing against Laura Jeffries. I will make my way to Rosemerryn sooner or later but in my own good time. I won’t be interrogated, Ince, or pushed into doing something before I’m ready to.’ For the first time in her life Eve was going to make a dramatic withdrawal but instead she cried, ‘Ow!’ and dashed a hand to her face.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘An insect’s flown into my eye.’
‘Let me see.’ Ince’s hand hovered over hers.
‘Please be quick. It’s really hurting.’ She took a clean hanky out of her skirt pocket and gave it to him.
‘Right, close your other eye and turn to the light.’
She obeyed his instructions, and because she had to lean her head back to give him access to her eye, she reached out and held on to him for balance. Very gently he pulled down her lower lid. Using a corner of the hanky he removed a tiny black winged insect. Eve blinked and her eye watered and he stared into her face, his only a breath away.
‘Is that better?’ he asked softly.
‘Yes, thank you, Ince.’
‘And are you angry with me for being nosy?’
‘No, I’m sorry if I sounded cross with you.’
He smiled at her. ‘You’ve got lovely eyes, Eve.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled back. Her natural reserve meant she had received few compliments of this kind.
Realising she was still touching him, Ince put his hands on her waist and moved in closer. He had never been forward with women but now he was going to kiss Eve. It seemed the natural thing to do and he wasn’t going to let this perfect opportunity slip by.
Eve gasped when she realised what his intention was but she let her body yield to his and closed her eyes to receive the kiss.
‘What the bleddy hell do you two think you’re doing of?’ Les bellowed, tearing round the side of the house at them. He was in an absolute fury and was waving his clenched fists. His threadbare slippers were slopping off his feet and his braces were hanging down round his waist and he was in danger of losing his shabby trousers. ‘Good job I was watching you from a window. I was about to ask you why you weren’t doing no work and then I saw why with me own bleddy eyes. You’re supposed to be working for me, you ruddy Casanova, Ince Polkinghorne, not seducing my granddaughter. I trusted you. Maybe there was something between you and that Jeffries woman after all, eh?’
‘For goodness sake, Grandfather!’ Eve shouted angrily. She had leapt far away from Ince in fright, anger and shock. Her face was crimson. ‘Ince was taking an insect out of my eye. It was very painful and I couldn’t do it myself. You have no right to talk to him like that. There was no need to jump to that conclusion.’ Her voice shook.
‘Huh! What do you take me for? For all your ladylike ways and posh speaking you could be just like your rotten mother, for all I know,’ Les sneered with a bitter edge to his voice. The old man had worked himself up into a lather and spittle ran down his chin. ‘Get on with your work, Ince. I’m not paying you good money to have you standing round doing bleddy nothing.’ And with that Les stomped off.
Eve moved several more paces away from Ince. ‘I apologise for my grandfather’s lack of good manners and his bad mind,’ she said tightly.
‘I thought I was going to be sacked again,’ Ince said wryly, hoping to shrug off the incident with a little humour. He had not been offended by Les’s outrage and, after all, he had been about to kiss Eve, but she was very upset. ‘You’ve no need to apologise, Eve.’
Her face was burning and she looked as if she had been shaken by a bomb blast. She turned away. ‘I – I must get on, Ince. I suggest you do the same.’
But Ince couldn’t leave her like this. He felt responsible. ‘What he said about your mother. That was spiteful, wasn’t it? What did he mean?’
Ince put his hands on her shoulders but she shook them off vehemently. Les had made her feel ashamed. ‘I’d rather not say, Ince. Please, I have work to do.’
Ince did as she asked, feeling he could happily take Les by the scrawny shoulders and shake out his few remaining teeth.
Eve stormed indoors after the old man. He had just got himself comfortable in his chair and gave a start when she wrenched open the door. She banged it shut behind her and presented herself in front of him like a determined schoolmarm. Her mother had treated her shoddily all her life. Mrs Howard-Armstrong had been wont to put her down with ruthless precision. She would not take that sort of treatment from anyone again and she would leave her grandfather in no doubt about it. She stood straight and stiff, lifted her chin up high and with eyes afire, let rip.
‘How dare you mention my mother like that in front of Ince? Whatever must he be thinking? I know her character left a lot to be desired but there’s no need to tar me with the same brush. And although I wasn’t proud of her either, I won’t have her insulted now she’s in her grave. It’s time you forgave her for falling pregnant with me. It’s not that unusual these days, I’ll have you know.’
Les leaned back in his chair as if the strength of a whirlwind was blowing over him, but he had plenty of fight and a good deal of moral indignation left in him. ‘It wasn’t just that, Eve,’ he said sternly. ‘Your mother was a lot worse than what you knew her as.’
‘She couldn’t have been!’ Eve snapped. Angela had led the sort of life that Eve would never confess to Les.
‘Take it from me that she was.’
There was a threat of tears in Eve’s eyes. ‘I’m not like her.’
‘She gave you a temptress’s name, didn’t she?’
‘What’s that got to do with anything, you old fool?’ She shouted so loudly that Ince threw down his fork in the potato patch and c
onsidered going indoors to find out what was happening.
Eve was crying softly and Les was sorry. Her wrath had knocked the wind out of his sails but despite his frailty he got quickly out of the chair. He was afraid that his own cruel character would make him lose her rather than a budding romance with Ince whom he really did trust.
He hadn’t held anyone in his thin raddled arms for years and he stretched them out uncertainly towards her. ‘Don’t take on like that, my handsome. I know you’re a good girl or else I wouldn’t have had you here. ’Twas a bit of a shock to see you so close like that to Ince, that’s all. It took me by surprise. I haven’t had you with me for long and if you find yourself a young man and go off and get married I’ll lose you again. I didn’t mean to be cruel.’
‘Well, you were, Grandfather,’ she sniffed, forcing her tears to stop and dabbing her eyes with her hanky. ‘Cruel and unfeeling.’
‘I’m sorry, Eve.’ Les put on his best appealing face and looked like a hideous hobgoblin. ‘Come on,’ he patted her arm. ‘Sit yourself down and I’ll make ’ee a nice cup of tea.’
‘I don’t want one. I’ve got the goat to see to. She needs me.’
She went to the door and as she opened it, Les said, ‘Do you like Ince in that way?’
Throughout her childhood Eve had reached out to her mother for love and affection and as an unwanted child she had been spurned every time. When she had told Angela her hopes and dreams, she had scoffed at her. As a servant she had been a nobody, not expected to have feelings and emotions. To prevent hurt and rejection she had learned to keep all her thoughts and feelings to herself. Les was utterly selfish; her mother had inherited all his bad traits. He would never understand the things she cherished or show proper sympathy to her hopes and wishes. She would tell him nothing of that nature, in particular her feelings for Ince.
She gave the answer that would best satisfy the old man. ‘It hasn’t even crossed my mind.’
She was mortified to see that she had been overheard. Ince had come round the front of the house, ready to intervene in the quarrel and come to her aid if necessary. He stared at her for a moment then, dropping his dark eyes, turned on his heel and went back to his work.
Chapter 26
Celeste was up in one of the double bedrooms of her house in the Lake District, planning the new decor which would turn it into a nursery. Lakeside House was a warm and friendly dwelling, built on a hillside with a breathtaking view of Derwent Water, rolling hills and lush green fells. The ideal place to give a baby a good start.
Celeste had turned out all the pieces of furniture that she could lift, the pictures, ornaments and dressing table items, putting them out on the long landing. Dressed in comfortable slacks and a loose, short-sleeved lacy jumper, she was kneeling down, rolling up the thick pink, blue and cream Chinese rug that lay in front of the fireplace, when a woman popped her head round the door and smiled down at her.
‘Good morning, Miss Cunningham. I hope you aren’t overdoing it,’ the woman said kindly, walking into the room and eyeing the things Celeste had moved about. ‘You’ve been on the go ever since you arrived from Cornwall four days ago and that was a long journey, remember. You should wait for me and Ian to arrive and we can lift things about for you.’
‘I’ve never felt more energetic, Marnie,’ Celeste said, her face automatically breaking out into a grin in response to her daily help’s smile. ‘I thought I heard Ian out in the garden just now.’
Marnie Smith was a short, plump, middle-aged, slow-moving woman, with dark, grey-streaked hair coiled in a neat bun and good skin which shone as if it had butter rubbed on it. Her perpetual smile made people feel instantly relaxed and welcome. Celeste was very fond of her domestic help and her spindly, six-foot husband Ian who worked part-time as the gardener. He had been invalided out of the Royal Navy when a torpedo had sunk his ship in 1942, leaving his mind in a childlike state. He would give sudden shakes of his head as he whistled merrily and lovingly tended the garden, talking gibberish, his only language now, to the plants and shrubs. The Smiths kept the house and its small acreage in tiptop condition for Celeste.
This would be a good moment, Celeste thought, getting to her feet, to tell Marnie she was going to turn this room into a nursery. Celeste had known Marnie long enough to know she would not be overly shocked or outraged because she was unmarried. Marnie loved children, and although childless herself owing to her husband’s condition, she would probably look forward to having a baby in the house.
‘I’ve got plans for this room, Marnie,’ she began on a tentative note. She felt embarrassed and to hide it she made much of tidying her hair.
‘I gathered that,’ Marnie chuckled brightly at the chaos. ‘Are you having someone to stay?’
‘No. It’s one of the lightest, airiest rooms in the house and perfect for something special. You see—’
There was a knock at the door. ‘I’ll answer that,’ Marnie said cheerily. ‘Probably someone calling to say hello to you. It will give you the perfect excuse to stop and have a cup of tea.’
Celeste was peeved at the interruption. ‘Oh, blow. I’m not ready to receive visitors yet, Marnie. Tell whoever it is that I’m not at home. Hopefully it will be someone wanting to see you or Ian. I’ll stay up here until they’ve gone.’
‘I’ll make you a pot of tea, all the same,’ Marnie said, moving unhurriedly out of the room.
Celeste had rubbed shoulders with a few people in the locality but had not informed any of them that she was in residence at Lakeside House, wanting to get herself and the house sorted out first. She had to work out her ‘story’. Would she be a widow who had lost her husband in a tragic accident and had come here to make a fresh start for the coming baby? Had she left her husband because she had found out he was unfaithful to her? Or had she married a diplomat who’d had to go abroad but she had stayed here in England to have her baby in the best surroundings? She would rather tell everyone the truth and live with the consequences but it wouldn’t be fair on the baby. He or she would have to face the world with the stigma of being illegitimate, it would be shunned, unable to make the good start she desired for it. The baby’s future and feelings must come before her wishes.
Marnie came back, her face so full of energy it looked as if it would crack. She had climbed the stairs unusually quickly for her. ‘’Tis a gentleman to see you, Miss Cunningham. He’s acting really strange. He said he knows you’re here and he’s not going until he’s seen you. He was most insistent. Said if you don’t come out of hiding he’ll search the house until he finds you. I shut the door in his face and left him on the doorstep.’ Marnie had gone to the window as she blurted out these details and looked down on her husband where he was whistling as he tended the rock garden. Ian may be what was called simple-minded but he was strong and brave and capable of seeing off trouble. ‘Shall I shout for Ian or telephone the police?’
Celeste rarely backed down on anything and she was furious that someone had invaded her peace and frightened her domestic. ‘I’ll see to him myself, Marnie,’ she said, picking up the poker by the fireplace and brandishing it in the air. ‘Follow me. I’ll soon send him packing.’
She marched down the stairs with Marnie creeping timidly behind her. As an extra precaution before she flung open the door, Celeste looked out the side of the bay window. When she saw who was waiting there, impatiently pacing the gravel drive, dressed in driving clothes, his hat and gloves in his hand and looking every inch the determined invader, she crumpled and clutched the doorknob.
Marnie squealed, thinking she was going to faint. ‘Who is it? Shall I get the police? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’
Clutching the poker, Celeste backed away from the door and on wobbly legs made her way to a chair in the hall. ‘It’s David,’ she breathed, hardly able to get the words out.
Marnie snatched an embroidered runner off a dresser and flapped it in front of Celeste’s face. ‘Are you all right, Miss Cunningham? Does
he mean you harm? Oh dear, what’s going on?’
The doorbell was rung again, persistently, and Marnie wailed, ‘I’m going to run and get help.’
‘No, no,’ Celeste gasped out. ‘You can let him in, Marnie. He’s a friend of mine.’
Marnie wasn’t convinced she should do any such thing but the young man at the door would break the bellpush in a minute, and in some trepidation she obeyed her employer.
Before Marnie could speak, the man called David pushed his head through the space she had made and shouted, ‘Celeste! I know you’re in there and I’m coming in now!’
And he did. Within a few moments he was kneeling in front of Celeste and had taken the poker out of her hand while Marnie rushed off to make some tea to revive her.
‘Oh, darling, I’m sorry for giving you such a fright. I was afraid that if I told you I was coming you’d leave and I’d have to come after you again.’
In odd moments of fantasy Celeste, like a romantic young girl, had dreamed of her lover turning up out of the blue and rescuing her from a future as an unmarried mother. To help her believe he was really here, she wanted to reach out and touch his strong wide face, feel his familiar dark-shadowed chin, but her hands stayed rigidly clasped on her lap. How she had yearned to look into his humorous light blue eyes again. Now that she was, she had forgotten all the things she would have said to him. She felt shy, unsure of herself for the first time in her life.
‘Wh-why are you here, David?’
He unclasped her hands and would have none of it when she tried to pull them free. ‘A mutual friend got in touch with me. I might as well tell you, darling, the game is up. I know all about the baby and why you didn’t tell me about it.’
The old spirit returned to Celeste and her colour came flooding back in one rapid surge. ‘Laura!’ Ripping her hands out of David’s grasp, she was on her feet in a fighting mood. ‘The cunning little cow! I’ll kill her for this. She’s the only one who knew I was coming here.’
‘It wasn’t a woman, old thing. It was a man. A Cornish farmer called Spencer Jeffries. He telephoned me at home two days ago, after he’d given you time to settle in here, and spilled the beans. He wasn’t sure of your address and it took me a couple of days to track you down. Oh, Celeste, you silly girl, why didn’t you tell me I’d put you in the family way? I’m sorry about that, by the way, it was very careless of me. Didn’t you believe that I’d stand by you, do the decent thing?’
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