by Iris Gower
A figure appeared suddenly in the open back door and, looking up, Nine smiled a welcome. ‘Gwyneth! What are you doing here? Mr Davies give you the day off, did he?’
Gwyneth sat down in one of the wooden kitchen chairs and brushed her hair back from her forehead. She looked distinctly ruffled and there was a downward tilt to her mouth that betrayed her ill-humour.
‘That cow! How I hate her,’ Gwyneth burst out, her eyes hot and angry.
Nina folded her arms. ‘Well, that’s a nice way to come into my kitchen, no greeting, no “how are you feeling, Mam”, nothing but a show of temper. Who has got on the wrong side of you today?’
‘It’s that Sarah Miller,’ Gwyneth said, rising and kissing her mother’s cheek in a perfunctory gesture of greeting. ‘Makes trouble wherever she goes, she does. Been in the shop this morning, cornering poor Will Davies and him not recovered from his fever yet.’
‘A nip of beetroot wine will make you feel better, girl,’ Nina said, sighing inwardly. Why Gwyneth made such a drama out of things she couldn’t imagine, she certainly didn’t follow her mother for moods; it must be poor Kev coming out in her.
‘Got some hold over him she has, I swear,’ Gwyneth continued, taking the mug of wine her mother handed her. ‘Don’t know what it is but it must be something big or he would send her away with a flea in her ear.’
‘What do you care?’ Nina asked, seating herself opposite her daughter across the kitchen table. She rested her elbows on the scrubbed wood and stared at her daughter thoughtfully. ‘You are in love with Mr Davies, is that it?’ The words were spoken like an accusation and Nina recognized it as soon as they were uttered, but it was too late to take them back.
‘So?’ Gwyneth demanded. ‘Is that something to be ashamed of?’
‘No, love,’ Nina reached across the table and touched her daughter’s clenched fist in sympathy. ‘But it’s not wise, is it? I mean he’s not our kind, he’s a boss.’
‘Bosses are still men underneath their trews!’ Gwyneth said coarsely. ‘And that Sarah Miller is after him, it’s clear as daylight.’
‘What about Mr Davies?’ Nina asked. ‘Is he interested in this Sarah?’
Gwyneth shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, he never looks pleased to see her but she’s living in the same lodgings as him, she’s got every chance to get her claws into him.’
‘Men don’t like that,’ Nina volunteered, ‘they don’t like to be chased, or at least they like to think it was all their own idea. Cunning is better than brazenness any day.’
‘What do you mean?’ Gwyneth was all attention and Nina felt flattered, well, why shouldn’t she be proud? She’d got her man away from a much younger woman and a wife at that.
‘Be friends with Mr Davies, side with him, flatter him, tell him you’re feeling faint and you need him to walk you home. You have the cottage to yourself days, so use your brains, girl.’
‘Aye, perhaps you’re right,’ Gwyneth agreed softly. She sipped at the wine and then replaced the mug on the table where a ring of red etched itself around the bottom of the mug.
‘Our Tom is mad, too,’ Gwyneth said. ‘He brought Sarah Miller back to Swansea from Port Eynon with him and now she seems to have forgotten all about him.’
Nina felt a dart of anger and pain that Tom should be thwarted in love. She felt a sudden virulent anger against Sarah Miller for using Tom and then apparently discarding him.
‘Well, she’s probably realized that Tom isn’t very well off and Mr Davies is,’ Nina countered bitterly. ‘Women like her are out for what they can get.’
Nina didn’t see that the sentiments she’d just expressed could be applied to herself. She knew she loved Joe but the gossips would say that she’d stolen him from his wife because he owned the cottage he was living in as well as owning two oyster boats.
‘I shan’t let her get Will,’ Gwyneth said sulkily, ‘I love him and not for his money and position but for himself.’
‘Aye, it’s easy to fall in love and it always pays to fall in love with the rich man rather than the poor one,’ Nina responded drily.
She poured more wine and changed the subject quite deliberately. ‘I haven’t seen hide nor hair of our Sal,’ she said, ‘not since I lost the baby. You’d think she’d have come to see me by now, wouldn’t you?’
Gwyneth nodded abstractedly. ‘Aye, but Sal is feathering her own nest, mind, wouldn’t be surprised if she married that fellow of hers before long.’
Gwyneth looked at her mother. ‘You’ve seen our Fon though, haven’t you? She’s fallen on her feet up there on Honey’s Farm, hasn’t she?’
‘I don’t know,’ Nina said, ‘it can’t be a bed of roses working for those people. From what Fon tells me, that poor woman is sick unto death and depending on Fon more than she does on her own husband. Mind, that shouldn’t surprise me, men are no good at all when it comes to sickness and it can’t be easy caring for a man and a child who are not your own.’
Gwyneth rose to her feet. ‘Well, I’ll get back now, Mam, and thanks for the advice, perhaps I’ll take it, some of it anyway.’
‘And perhaps you won’t,’ Nina said sighing. ‘But you children must live your own lives now, I can’t stop you what ever you want to do.’
Nina watched as Gwyneth walked away from the house and along the street without so much as a glance at the beauty of the bay or the softness of the breeze drifting over the calm waters.
Nina returned to her kitchen and took a freshly baked loaf from the pantry, holding it against her and slicing the bread thickly the way Joe liked it. She smiled as she thought of Joe, he was a fine man, her man and she would hold on to him for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
He had lost her, she had slipped away from him, William felt it in his bones, Eline would never be his now. It was the silly gossiping words of Sarah Miller that had put an end to his dreams, Sarah who, in her bitterness and sheer cussedness, had thrust in the knife and turned it. And Will had wanted Eline to be his more than he had ever wanted anything in his whole life.
She had left town, gone to Somerset with Emily Miller, having a taste of the world beyond the boundaries of Swansea and he feared she would come home much changed by her experience. Eline was so sweet, so trusting and he loved her so much that the thought of her being far away from Swansea where he could not reach her hurt.
She was right though, he could see it in her eyes that she still considered herself a married woman. In spite of all the indignities Joe Harries had heaped on her, Eline felt she should be faithful to her vows. To have come to his bed would probably have served to make Eline feel guilty and ashamed, Will should not have expected it.
And yet he knew himself well enough, if Sarah had not intervened and Eline had come to him willingly, he would have accepted the gift of herself with open arms.
‘Duw, you’re lost in a world of your own, Will.’ Hari Grenfell smiled warmly and leaned towards him, her slender fingers pushing back his hair as she’d done when he was nine years old and her apprentice. ‘What’s wrong, boy, anything I can help with?’
They were sitting in the comfortable drawing room at Summer Lodge, the late sun dying away into the hillsides, the sky streaked with red, but Will saw none of it as he shook his head.
‘I was just thinking about Sarah Miller and how even after all this time she is able to cast a blight over my life.’
Hari frowned. ‘Why what has the little hussy done now?’ Her tone was indignant and Will smiled.
‘Oh, nothing really, just inflicting petty irritations on me, nothing I can’t manage. The worst of it is, she’s living in the same boarding house as me, I wish Emily had shown more foresight when palming the girl off the way she did.’
Hari sighed. ‘Emily meant only to get rid of Sarah, for all our sakes – the girl is a threat to my peace of mind. I know that I can never forgive her for what she did to me when she took my son.’ Hari paused. ‘I suppose Emily wanted to push Sarah
into the arms of the poor unsuspecting Tom Parks, the man who brought her back here from Port Eynon. It seemed reasonable enough to Emily to select Mrs Marsh’s boarding house, it’s one of the best in Oystermouth. I don’t think she even connected the place with you.’
‘Well, it’s just unfortunate for me,’ Will said, ‘but I wish Sarah would go away again, do anything but leave me alone. I’ll lose my temper with her one of these days and tell her what I think of her.’ He sighed. ‘She really isn’t worth it, though.’
‘What is really worrying you, Will? It’s got to be more than Sarah Miller’s proximity that’s getting you down.’
Will smiled; Hari knew him well but he could not even confide to her that he had almost possessed Eline Harries. If it hadn’t been for Sarah’s interference, Eline and he would be lovers by now.
He rose to his feet abruptly. ‘I’d best be getting back home.’ He stretched his arms above his head and yawned hugely. ‘Forgive me, Hari, it’s very rude of me to act like this but I’m so tired.’
Hari stared at him unblinkingly. ‘All right, don’t tell me, if that’s what you want. But take my advice, get yourself a house of your own, install a housekeeper, get out of harm’s way, because I don’t trust Sarah Miller an inch. She’ll cause havoc wherever she goes and I’d rather you were out of her path.’
‘You may be right, Hari.’ Will smiled, but how could he afford a house of his own on the small profit he was making from the shop? Hari had become so used to getting just what she wanted from life that she didn’t realize not everyone had her gifts.
‘I understand Emily is on her way back from Somerset,’ Hari said casually and Will smiled.
‘Thanks for the information.’ They both knew what he meant and Hari, rising to her feet, kissed his cheek. ‘I don’t know how it can all work out for you, Will, but I wish you luck, I know your heart is set on having Eline Harries for your own.’
Will looked down at her, he loved Hari fiercely, he loved her as a sister and he would lay down his life for her, but how could he talk over with her his confusion of thoughts and feelings?
He wanted Eline; he would have taken her to his bed because he was a man and he wanted to possess the one he loved and yet he wanted Eline as a wife, not simply as a mistress.
‘It’s a mess,’ he said softly, ‘one that can’t ever be resolved.’
Hari squeezed his arm comfortingly. ‘What is meant to be will be whatever we do,’ she said softly.
He left her then and strode down towards the town, surprised at the force of the night breeze sharp against his skin. Across the bay the oyster skiffs were out, the season under way once more. The elegant crafts were cutting through the waters, sails billowing, dredges dragging the ocean floor as the fishermen laboured for their livelihood.
Joe Harries would be amongst them in his boat ironically named the Emmeline. Will took a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists, it was hard to swallow the idea that Joe Harries had possessed Eline and had given her up for an older woman – the man must be mad.
Will decided to walk to Oystermouth, he was restless, his longing for Eline almost unbearable. Even if he couldn’t possess her physically, the knowledge that she was not even in Swansea was painful to him, her very nearness would be enough. If only he could see her, speak to her, look into her lovely face.
The wind was whipping up sharply, lifting his hair away from his face and looking up at the sky Will saw that storm clouds were gathering. It would be a poor lookout for the men of the oyster fleet if they didn’t return to shore before the rain struck and the winds became too rough. The waters around the Mixon could be treacherous and the rocks of the head protruded out to sea in a way that could catch out the unwary.
Will sighed. The men of the oyster fleet were all experienced sailors, used to the vagueries of the weather and with the seas about the coastline well charted, they would not be in too much danger.
He reached the door of Mrs Marsh’s house breathless and windblown after his long walk and saw that the waves were whipping against the rocks, rushing shoreward in angry tumult. He paused for a moment to wonder about Joe Harries out in such weather aboard the Emmeline and then turning his back on the restless ocean, he went inside.
‘Duw, I haven’t seen a storm like this for years, mind.’ Nina was on her doorstep along with the other women of the village, their eyes straining to see into the rainswept darkness. Tonight she was not Nina Parks, paramour to a married man but a woman like them all in Oystermouth in fear for the safety of their menfolk.
‘They’ll be pulling in to the moorings, any time now, don’t fret,’ Carys Morgan said quickly, her plump body jigging to and fro as she unthinkingly rocked her baby who was already fast asleep beneath the stout Welsh shawl. ‘Won’t bother even unloading the catch into the small boats, not in a sea like this vixen!’
‘It’s my Tom that worries me,’ Nina said, ‘my boy isn’t used to handling a skiff, deep-sea fisherman he is, see, and not an oyster boat, man.’
‘Got a good crew with him, hasn’t he?’ Carys said shortly. ‘Skipper George’s two youngsters know the ropes, mind, they’ll guide your Tom all right.’
Nina held her tongue, she didn’t want to offend her neighbours for it was a good feeling to be accepted by them. It was only the imminent danger of their menfolk that made her for tonight, at least, one with them.
Nina bit her lip, it would be her fault if anything happened to her Tom; it had taken a great deal of persuasion to get him to accept the skippering of the Oyster Sunrise and she had kept on to him day and night about it. Nina had talked and talked telling her son that it was his right to own a boat. Wasn’t his father responsible for seeing him set up for the future? He would be a fool to throw it all away because of pride.
Tom had agreed at last but declared that nothing would make him forgive Joe Harries for all he had done though he conceded that now, set up in Joe’s home, Nina was as near respectable as Joe could make her, and at least now Joe was trying to make amends.
Still, Nina consoled herself, Tom’s decision to take on the Oyster Sunrise owed more to her son’s attempt to make Sarah Miller notice him than anything she had said.
‘I can see a sail!’ Carys was straining forward as though to pierce the gloom with her eyes. ‘Yes, there’s a boat coming in, no, there’s at least four of them, look, they’re in the calmer waters of the bay now, well away from the rocks of the head.’
A cheer went up from the women waiting on the shore and then they fell silent as the boats drew nearer and each woman tried to identify her husband’s skiff, willing the boats into safety.
An explosion of thunder resounded round the silent street and one of the women cried out in fear. Nina remained rigid, eyes straining as she tried to see through the pelting rain. ‘Please let them be safe,’ she murmured, clasping her hands against the rain-soaked bodice of her dress.
One by one the men made the shore, weary and bedraggled, limbs aching from the strain of fighting the storm. Nina watched as Carys, clinging to the arms of her Sam, face radiant with relief, disappeared into her house.
It seemed the fleet had all come home with the exceptions only of the Oyster Sunrise and the Emmeline.
‘Oh, dear God, save us!’ Nina felt herself alone in the world, her heart beating in a crazy rhyme of fear. She almost screamed out loud and then she became aware that Skipper George had come to stand beside her.
‘They’ll be in, give them time,’ he said reassuringly, ‘my boys were born to the ocean, they know the tides and they know the pitfalls of the seas from Sker Point to Porthcawl and then some.’
He looked down with something akin to pity in his eyes. ‘Go indoors, missis,’ he said, ‘stoke up the fire and push the pot on the flames because your men will want cheering when they get back.’
Nina took a deep breath. ‘But will they come back?’ Her voice sounded strangled and Skipper George put a kindly hand on her shoulder.
‘I can’t answer
that, missis, you’ll have to talk to the good Lord about it. But hope is a good thing, mind,’ he continued, ‘don’t give up hope whatever you do. I want my sons back as much as you want your menfolk, so we’ll watch and pray, right?’
Nina stood for a long time staring through the darkness, unable to see anything because the rain was coming down like a curtain now, obscuring the crags of Mumbles Head and the waters beyond. At last, she turned and went into the silent house and stood watching the pools of water drip from her clothing on to the cold grey slate of the floor turning blue with moisture.
She lifted her head and looked around her; this was only an empty house when all was said and done. It was never her home, never would be because the shadow of Eline was everywhere. Much as Nina tried to erase all evidence of Joe’s wife from the rooms, Eline’s presence was still there, haunting her.
When the cold light of morning dawned, Nina was seated in the chair before the window, her eyes red and dry from the sleepless hours she’d spent keeping watch, waiting for the maroons to be fired, waiting for the lifeboat to be called out. At least then she would know that the oyster skiffs were within striking distance of the shore. But all had remained silent, even the rain and the wind given way to the calm after the storm.
And yet tragedy was about to strike, she knew it in her bones and nothing, not all the prayers she’d said, would alter what destiny decreed. Her men were gone, lost to her for ever, drowned in the violent sea that could be cruel and unrelenting. The ocean had almost taken her son once, had the cold waters of the night come to claim him?
Nina rose and rebuilt the fire, going through the motions of living even though she knew nothing would ever be the same again. She made herself some weak tea and drank it gratefully and then returned to her vigil at the window. The skiffs bobbed gently now on the calm, almost timid, waters of the bay. The men were out there, unloading the catch on to the small boats. Some of the oysters would be left on the perches and later, the women would pack them in bags or baskets, ready to make the first sales of the new season. All seemed bright and normal, life went on but not for her, Nina thought despairingly.