by Iris Gower
‘Nina Parks, you are too old to be a mistress, you need to be a wife to some man who’ll take care of you.’
The words fell into a hollow silence and Nina felt tears burn her eyes; there would be no kindly man like her first husband to come along and save her from shame a second time.
When Joe knocked on the door, Nina opened it with a smile. ‘Come inside, Joe, my lovely,’ she said, ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’
He sank into the chair and removed his cap, pushing back his thick curls.
‘Leave the door open a bit, love,’ he said, ‘I could do with a breath of fresh air.’
Nina sat near the table, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. Joe didn’t look like a man best pleased with his lot. His long silence was ominous especially after what Fon had said about him sitting on the rocks with Eline.
‘What is it, Joe?’ Nina said softly. ‘What have you come to tell me?’
‘Just that I feel bad about what happened.’ Joe sighed heavily. ‘How is it that I make you with child whenever we come together?’
‘I don’t know, love,’ Nina said, ‘I suppose it’s nature, the signs must be right for us making children, I expect.’
‘I’ll support you,’ Joe said and Nina knew then she’d lost, there would be no getting Joe to come away with her to make a new life together.
‘Must I face the shame of having a babbi alone then?’ Her voice rose more in fear than anger. ‘Joe, how could you desert me a second time, leaving me like this?’
Nina was so overcome that she didn’t hear a sound at the door or see the figure standing against the light.
‘Joe, for God’s sake, what can I do? I can’t have this babbi by myself, I just can’t.’
The door was flung open with a resounding crash and Tom strode into the kitchen, his face red with anger.
‘Mam,’ he said in a strangled voice, ‘have you let this bastard bed you again and get you with child?’
Tom looked at Joe as if he hated him and Nina rose to her feet, her breath catching in her throat.
‘Get out of this house!’ Tom directed his anger towards Joe. ‘I don’t want you or your lousy hand-outs, do you hear?’
Nina found her breath. ‘Tom, don’t you speak to Joe like that,’ she said quickly. ‘Please, try to understand how things are between Joe and me.’
‘Oh, I understand all right,’ Tom said, ‘you are his part-time whore whenever he wants a change from his little wife.’
Nina reached out and her hand connected with her son’s cheek so hard that the imprint of her fingers showed up redly on his face. ‘How dare you!’ she said quietly. ‘I am no whore, but I am a woman with flesh and blood feelings all the same.’
‘Right then,’ Tom said, ‘go with him, get out of my sight before I kill you.’ He raised his fist and smashed it against the mirror which shattered into pieces so that for a moment Nina had a crazy image of her son’s maddened eyes and her own fear.
‘Come with me.’ Joe caught her arm and took her out of the house. ‘We can talk to the boy when he has cooled down.’
Nina fought to suppress her tears as she saw the curtains twitch as she walked along the road beside Joe. No doubt her neighbours had heard everything and she would once again be the talk of the village.
But she had more to worry about than that now. She swayed a little and Joe put his arm around her.
‘Steady on, girl,’ he said softly, ‘you are going to be all right.’
‘Where are you taking me?’ Nina asked faintly, her arm clinging to his for support.
‘I’m taking you home, where else can I take you?’ Joe said quietly.
Nina didn’t reply, but suddenly she wanted to burst out into hysterical laughter. Joe was taking her to his home, where she had always wanted to be. But in his home waited his lawful wife and Eline was not going to be very happy to see her husband walk in with his mistress.
CHAPTER TEN
The garden was drenched with hot July sunshine, the roses, heavy with rich, creamy petals, had a glorious perfume which drifted to where Hari sat in a chair, beside the open window, fanning herself with her hat.
She smiled at her old friend, happy to see Meg looking so well. ‘What a beautiful day to be alive.’
‘Yes, it’s lovely here, this house is always so peaceful.’ Meg Briant was leaning back in her chair, smiling dreamily. She was older than Hari, but was still a lovely, attractive woman. She had been widowed for several years now, but it was clear that at times she still pined for her husband, Sir Charles Briant.
Charlie had been a big, handsome man, a fine eccentric character and one loved by many of his friends including Hari. After his death, Meg had thrown in her lot with Hari and Craig and had become a partner in the leather business.
Looking at her now, Hari thought Meg had a delicate quality about her that was rather touching. Though her face was rather too thin and there were shadows beneath her eyes, she appeared to have a fragile beauty that owed more to an inner peace than simply to facial structure.
Hari sighed. ‘The house has a certain air about it, hasn’t it? I’m very lucky, I know, and I never cease to count my blessings.’
‘I don’t feel settled yet in my house,’ Meg said. ‘I know the house is beautiful but I don’t feel at home there, not really. I still miss Charlie, I suppose, even after all this time.’ Meg bit the edge of her nail and, watching her, Hari felt her heart contract with pain. She leaned forward and held out her hand.
‘I can understand that; Charlie was always such a live wire, I miss him, too.’
Meg smiled suddenly. ‘He would have approved of me going into business with you and Craig and I’ve never had to worry about money, not since the Briant name was added to that of the Grenfells.’ Her smile vanished. ‘But money can’t make up for love and companionship.’
‘You are still young,’ Hari protested, ‘don’t talk as though you’ve given up on life, you may meet a man who could make you happy, though I realize no one will ever take Charlie’s place.’
‘No,’ Meg bit her lip, ‘no one ever will fill the gap he left in my life.’
The door opened and the new, young maid bobbed a curtsy. ‘Excuse me, madam,’ she said in a small voice and Hari smiled at her, sensing the girl’s nervousness.
‘What is it, Avril?’ she asked kindly. ‘Speak up, I’m not going to eat you.’
‘It’s a gentleman, madam, a Mr Davies, he wants to see you.’
‘Will!’ Hari rose to her feet, smiling in delight as Will appeared in the doorway behind the maid. ‘Come in, love, it’s good to see you.’
He looked tanned and handsome, Hari thought, as Will seated himself beside her on the plump-cushioned sofa.
‘How’s the business going?’ Hari asked, leaning forward and her smile included Meg who was relaxing now against the cushions, her mood of low spirits temporarily forgotten.
‘Very well,’ Will replied. ‘I’ve got a new shop assistant and I’m looking for another one because I seem to get busier by the day.’
‘That’s what I like to hear,’ Hari said warmly wondering if she dare enquire about Eline Harries. William saved her the trouble.
‘There was almost a tragedy down at the beach, a few weeks ago,’ he said. ‘Eline was picking oysters from the perches when the tide came in and caught her unawares. Good thing the other women called me to the beach before it was too late. That man Joe Harries should be shot for allowing a delicate young girl like Eline to do such work.’ He paused. ‘And according to the gossip of some of my customers, he’s not even the faithful sort.’
Hari concealed a frown, rubbing at her forehead, head bent. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I hope Eline’s all right now.’
‘I hope so, too,’ Will said in a low voice. ‘I haven’t seen her since then.’
‘Who is this Eline?’ Meg said in open curiosity. ‘A new sweetheart perhaps?’
Will shook his head. ‘I wish she was,’ he said ferventl
y and Meg tapped his hand.
‘Don’t be faint-hearted, Will, any girl would love to be wooed by a good-looking man like you.’ She turned to Hari. ‘Do you know I was in Will’s shop the other day and I swear that the little assistant has set her bonnet at him? She can’t take her eyes off him and who can blame her?’
There was an embarrassed silence and after a moment Meg rose and picked up her bag. ‘Well, my dear Hari, I must be going, I have to change for supper which I am having with some very boring business people.’ She drew on her gloves while Will stood politely, ready to open the door for her.
‘The Gardeners are thinking of taking over the theatre, you know. They have asked me to sell out to them.’ She looked directly at Hari and sighed heavily.
‘And are you going to let them have the building?’ Hari said, taking Meg’s arm. ‘It might be just as well.’
‘I don’t know, I suppose I will have to sell up some time and the place might as well be in use. Though to me it will always be Charlie’s theatre; I suppose it’s seen its best days now.’
Hari saw Meg to the door and the two women embraced warmly before Meg climbed into her carriage. Hari watched as the carriage rolled away down the drive of Summer Lodge and then she returned to where Will was still on his feet, staring out of the window.
Hari moved to him and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Will,’ she said softly, ‘you’ll get over her.’
He looked down at her and after a moment kissed her forehead. ‘Maybe, Hari, but I can’t stop thinking about her; in the morning I wake with Eline Harries on my mind and in the night I dream about her.’
‘What about this girl who works for you?’ Hari changed the subject; it was pointless warning Will yet again that Eline was a married woman. ‘Is she really falling in love with you?’
‘Gwyneth Parks?’ Will said quickly. ‘No, that’s just a bit of fancy on Meg’s part.’
Hari looked down at her hands. ‘I do hope you’ll meet some suitable young lady soon,’ she said and then smiled at the pomposity of her words. ‘Listen to me!’ she said. ‘I sound like a snob and me coming from the slums of World’s End, I should be ashamed of myself.’
Hari sank into a chair and Will settled himself opposite her. ‘No,’ he said gently, ‘I know you want only the very best for me. Don’t worry, Hari, I am wise enough to realize that Eline is a married woman and not for me and I won’t do anything silly like falling into the arms of any pretty lady who happens along.’
Hari smiled and touched Will’s cheek. ‘I suppose you’ve done your share of flirting like most young men, but you’ve just never met the right woman. I must start organizing musical evenings or perhaps a ball. Snob or not, I want you to meet a suitable kind of young lady.’
‘Hari!’ Will chided gently. ‘I’m a man now, you needn’t think of matchmaking. When I want a wife I shall find one, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.’
‘Don’t bother to protest,’ Hari said smiling. ‘Craig and I are having supper with the Millers and some of their friends tonight and I’ll ask Emily if she knows of anyone suitable for you to meet.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ Will said with mock indignation and then he smiled. ‘And if you do, I’ll probably hate the girl on sight.’
He stretched his long legs out before him. ‘I think you’ve forgotten that too many of Swansea’s high society remember my humble origins, Emily included, even though she married a man from what she would call “the lower orders”.’
‘Aye,’ Hari said ruefully, ‘just as they remember my humble beginnings. Oh, most people are polite and sometimes even quite friendly, but I know I’m only accepted because of Craig’s influence in the town.’ She stared at Will earnestly. ‘But I don’t care, I’m happy to be Craig’s wife, he loves me for what I am and the poverty of my background doesn’t concern him in the least.’
She saw Will smile and shook his arm playfully. ‘What are you laughing at? Come on, tell me!’
‘You, Hari, you think I’m such an eligible bachelor, but I have no great wealth and I haven’t got one quarter of your talent either.’
‘Nonsense!’ Hari protested. ‘You are young and handsome with excellent prospects, anyone who catches you will be very fortunate.’
‘I suppose that’s why the society women are flocking around me?’ Will said drily. ‘But as I said, don’t worry about me, I made my big mistake when I was younger. I was taken in by Sara Miller’s pretty face, I even believed for a time that I was the father of her child.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I must have been a fool in those days’ – he straightened – ‘but no more, Hari, I assure you.’
He rose abruptly to his feet. ‘I must go, I’ve work to do.’ He kissed her cheek and then smiled down at her. ‘Now remember what I said, no matchmaking.’
When Will had gone, Hari sat for a little while staring into the garden. She didn’t see the roses or the lush grass, she was seeing instead the shabby workshop in World’s End where she had sat with her father learning her trade as a boot and shoe maker.
In spite of their lack of wealth, the Morgans had been a happy family. Dewi Morgan had made a meagre enough living mostly tapping working boots that should long ago have been put on the fire, but at least he provided food and shelter for his sick wife and his daughter. He had taught Hari all he knew so that when eventually she was left alone in the world she was able to continue with the trade that had been her father’s and grandfather’s before her.
Hari rubbed at her eyes, talking about the past had brought back disturbing memories, memories of Sarah Miller and her Sam Payton snatching David and holding him to ransom. How Hari had feared for her son in those dark days when he had been kept hidden in an old shed on a hilltop.
But Craig had succeeded in rescuing their son and Hari remembered how her fear turned to relief when she saw Craig come through the dust with David safe in his arms.
In the confusion Sarah Miller and Sam Payton had disappeared as though from the face of the earth.
‘Good riddance to them!’ Hari’s voice startled her. At once she was back in the present and she saw the softness of the garden and breathed in the scent of roses through the open window with a feeling of thankfulness. The past was over and done with; Sarah Miller would never have the nerve to return to her father’s home in Swansea.
She sighed and turned towards the door. David would have had his afternoon rest by now and his nanny would be getting him ready for tea in the nursery. A warmth filled Hari and suddenly she wanted to hold David in her arms and reassure herself that he was all right.
Emily Miller stood in the dining room surveying the exquisitely set table with satisfaction. The silver gleamed and the napkins were starched and white, twisted into fan-like shapes against the gleaming mahogany of the table.
‘Looks excellent.’ John had come up behind her unawares and now, he put his arms around her waist, drawing her back against him.
‘I hope we are having some interesting people to dinner?’ he said. ‘I’m fed up of being looked down on by some of the folks you have here.’ He turned her to face him and Emily placed her hands against his cheeks.
‘You are my husband, John, and I love you more than life itself, you come first always, you know that.’
He sighed. ‘I know, but I’m not really accepted, am I? John Miller, one-time cobbler, now sitting at table with the élite of the town, it doesn’t go down well.’
‘It’s only a few snobs who have recently made money and think they are a cut above anyone else,’ Emily protested. ‘The real gentry of Swansea are far too nice and polite to make you feel anything but one of them.’
‘I know,’ John kissed her lightly, ‘most of the time I don’t think about it, but now and again I realize that I’m not really good enough for you, my darling.’
‘Hush!’ Emily said softly. ‘What would I do without you at my side? I would rather be dirt poor and have you, John, than be rich and alone.’
‘Well, y
ou have both, my love,’ John said, ‘and you can be proud of your achievements. You were left with a pile of debts when your father died and you fought your way to the top again.’ He kissed her again, more deeply this time.
‘You are a remarkable woman, Mrs Miller,’ he said softly.
Both of them looked up as the sound of a child’s voice echoed down the hallway and Emily smiled in delight. ‘Pammy is awake,’ she said catching John’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s go and keep her company for a little while.’
The little girl was holding her nurse’s hand, but when she saw Emily, she held out her arms at once.
‘Mamma,’ she said in her light voice, ‘Pammy wants to come to you, Mamma.’
Emily hugged her. ‘It’s all right, Mrs Caldwell, I’ll take her for a while.’ Emily nodded to the nurse, dismissing her and, sweeping Pammy up into her arms, carried the child into the sitting room.
John sat down opposite his wife and watched her with the child, a shadow of pain falling across his heart. If only the child was his and Emily’s how happy he would be. But every time he looked at Pammy’s lovely, dimpled face he was reminded of her mother.
Sarah was his only daughter, she had been headstrong, easily led. She had allowed herself to become captivated by Sam Payton who was nothing but a villain. Payton had pursuaded Sarah not only to abandon her own newly born child, but to kidnap the son of Craig and Hari Grenfell and hold the boy for ransom, almost killing them all in the process. It was only Grenfell’s courage that saved them from certain death when the hillside, where Sarah and that man were hiding the child, was blasted to make way for a new road.
‘What is it, John?’ Emily asked and he smiled ruefully, she could always read him well.
‘Nothing really, just thinking about old times,’ he said. ‘Now, tell me, who am I going to put up with at dinner tonight?’