‘You will do no such thing, my boy, and I most certainly will stop you, if I have to tie you up in chains to do so.’
Emma began to cry, and Morwen went to her at once. The atmosphere in the dining room had become appalling, and she couldn’t bear it. She saw Ran let Bradley go, and the boy sank sullenly down in his seat again.
‘We’ll now resume our supper, and when we’ve all calmed down, I’ll tell you all my secret,’ Ran went on, more coolly than Morwen would have believed. She hoped fervently that it was going to be a good one, and not something that would have Bradley sneering.
In the next ten minutes nobody spoke, but the children only picked at their food, and in the end Ran gave a sigh and pushed his own plate away.
‘All right, I think we may say that supper is over for tonight, and pudding can wait until I’ve told you all something to put the smiles back on your faces.’
From the look of Bradley’s face, it would take a miracle, thought Morwen, but she felt her heart begin to quicken in anticipation. Ran must know it had to be something special…
‘Please don’t keep us in suspense any longer, dar,’ she said, her voice almost breathless.
‘You were wrong in thinking I’d had a letter from your brother, honey,’ he said directly. ‘It was from Louisa.’
‘Oh. Well, that amounts to almost the same thing, I suppose,’ Morwen said, remembering Matt’s American wife. She concurred it was reasonable to suppose that Louisa would write to Ran, being his cousin. But then another thought struck her, and she caught at her husband’s arm. ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there? Our Matt’s not ill, is he—?’
Ran spoke quickly. ‘Don’t you think I’d have told you before this if that was the case?’
The children were silent now, wondering what was to come, and Emma yawned, bored with all this talk of kinfolk she didn’t know.
‘Then what?’
‘Can’t you guess?’ Ran said, but her intuition wasn’t in evidence tonight, and she shook her head impatiently.
‘I was trying to keep it as a surprise, but I see now that it’s impossible. Louisa and Matt are giving Cresswell a trip to Europe for his birthday, which as you know is around the time of Justin’s own twenty-first—’
Morwen leapt to her feet, her eyes glowing, her face flushed with colour, and for an instant Ran saw the beautiful girl he had married.
‘And they’re coming home!’ she said joyfully, ignoring everything else. ‘Oh Ran, is our Matt really coming home? For how long? And – well, Europe isn’t just Cornwall, is it?’
He held up his hand as she dithered. ‘Let me finish, honey, though you can read the letter for yourself now you know most of it. They’ll all be here in time for Justin’s celebrations, and the overall trip is for three months. But Louisa and Cress will go on to Europe, and Matt will stay here while they’re gone. He’ll want to see his family and to see what’s happening with Killigrew Clay.’
And whether Ran liked it or not, it had been Matt’s money from the Californian goldfields that had put the clayworks back on its feet again after a disastrous slump ten years ago. Matt also had a family stake in Killigrew Clay that went back far beyond that. From kiddley-boy to clayworker, he knew the business as well as any of them.
Morwen’s heart was thumping so much with excitement she could hardly breathe, and it was only when she had hugged and kissed her husband that she looked to see the effect the news was having on her children. The first and last time Matt had brought his family to England, these three hadn’t been born, and she had still been the wife of Ben Killigrew.
And Cresswell had unwittingly betrayed the secret she and Ben had kept so carefully for all those years. That Walter, Albert and Primmy weren’t their own flesh and blood, but the children of Morwen’s oldest brother Sam and his wife Dora. Sam had died in Ben Killigrew’s railway accident, and Dora had died from the measles. And after Cresswell’s unthinking remarks, Justin and Charlotte had considered themselves the rightful heirs of Killigrew Clay, causing powerful ructions within the family.
The ghosts of the past whispered through Morwen’s mind now, as she looked at the three blank faces of the Wainwright children. They knew nothing of the intricate family history, except for what Bradley knew from Bess. But the younger ones were still innocent of how ugly the closest family unit could turn when its members fought for their rights.
‘Will I like these people, Mammie?’ Emma said finally, in a dubious voice. ‘Will Cresswell play with me?’
Bradley gave a hoot of laughter, breaking the spell.
‘Of course he won’t, you ninny, not if he’s as old as Justin. They’ll talk differently, as well.’ His eyes suddenly narrowed as a new thought struck him. ‘Perhaps they’ll take me back to America with them, then I won’t fret so over Uncle Freddie going to Ireland.’
Ran threw up his hands in despair at this, and refused to discuss it any more as Mrs Enders oversaw the serving of the chocolate pudding and custard. But while Bradley wittered on about the possibilities of finding out more about America from his cousin Cresswell, and the other two muttered less excitedly about meeting new relatives, all Morwen could think about was that Matt was coming home.
Her mammie obviously didn’t know yet, and Ran had intended keeping it to himself a while longer. Bess should be told immediately. Bess would be over the moon in gathering her ewe lamb back to her bosom. And Morwen would insist on telling the rest of the family too. Ran had to grant her that.
* * *
She told Justin the minute he came home late that evening. By then, the children were in bed, and she had seen the letter from Louisa. She liked Ran’s cousin, though they had only seen her on the one visit that had ended so disastrously. Bui it wasn’t Louisa’s fault that Cresswell had been so obnoxious, and he hadn’t been aware of any family secrets. She readily forgave him in her mind. Right now, she could forgive anybody anything, knowing that Matt was coming home…
Justin’s reaction was totally unexpected.
‘I don’t want that idiot Cresswell at my party, Mother,’ he said flatly. ‘In any case, he won’t know anyone but us, and he’ll be totally out of place.’
But as Justin spoke, it was Walter’s anguished voice that Morwen could hear so uncannily in her mind right then. A gauche and youthful Walter, suddenly putting two and two together, and finding the truth more painful than he could ever have believed.
‘He says we’re not Killigrews. He says Sam Tremayne was our Daddy instead of our uncle. He says Killigrew Clay’s not my inheritance, but Justin’s—’
Cresswell had taken away all Walter’s innocence at that moment. And Walter had wanted the clayworks so much. The clay was in his blood, as it had never been in Justin’s…
She shook her head a little, pushing the memories out of her mind, and coming back to the present. Justin’s face was angry, spoiling all her pleasure in Matt’s homecoming.
‘You can’t be so ungenerous,’ she snapped. ‘Cresswell is your cousin, and whatever you may have thought about him in the past, he’s a man now, the same as you.’
‘I always thought him a little shit-bag, the same as everyone else did,’ Justin said, using the careless language of the clayworkers, and not even noticing it. But Morwen did. She noticed it, and ignored it, for nothing could have told her more clearly that the rawness still simmered between her children and the American cousin.
‘It’s only for one night that you have to be sociable, darling,’ she said, more pleadingly. ‘And think how it will upset your grandmother if you object to Cresswell. He’s her grandson too.’
Justin glowered darkly, but at his hesitation she felt relieved, knowing that she had won. Mention of Bess could usually twist the boys around. Bess loved all her boys, and her boys loved her.
‘And I hope you’ve got that guest list prepared,’ Morwen said brightly. ‘I need to send out the invitations very soon, so let’s get down to it.’
‘I don’t want a fuss,’ Justin said
at once. ‘Just the family and one or two others, that’s all. And I definitely don’t want any of Albert and Primmy’s vacuous lot there.’
‘They’ll be upset if you shun their friends—’
‘No, they won’t. Especially if they know the Americans are coming. They’ll be happy enough with just the family – if they bother to come at all. And what about Walter? If Cathy’s about to burst, they may not bother. You know I’m not keen on these things, anyway, Mother, so why can’t we just forget it?’
‘And what about Charlotte?’ Morwen went on doggedly, knowing how upset her mother would be if it all fell through.
‘She’s anxious to show off her new friend. Vincent, isn’t it?’
Justin relaxed a little, stretching out his long legs as he lounged on the drawing room couch, and he began to smile at last.
‘Oh yes, I was forgetting about dear Charlotte being so taken up with Vince Pollard. You’ll like him, and they make a nice couple.’
Morwen wasn’t prepared to couple them up quite so soon, but she let the comment pass.
‘All right,’ Justin said, succumbing. ‘Let’s agree that there’s going to be a party. But I insist on keeping Albert and Primmy’s lot out. It’s my day, isn’t it?’
* * *
Bess Tremayne gave a glad cry when Morwen told her the news. She wasn’t one for great shows of emotion, but there was no disguising the tears over this. When she got over the initial excitement, she wiped her eyes and composed herself, and her voice was full of longing, dredging up fears she’d held inside for a long time.
‘I sometimes wondered if we’d ever see our Matt again, Morwen. You young uns may have done so, but time’s running out for your daddy and me—’
‘Don’t say such things, Mammie! You know I don’t like to hear it.’
Bess gave a wry smile. ‘There’s no stopping time, Morwen. It goes on, whether we like it or not, and me and Hal ain’t gettin’ any younger, nor any livelier. We know it, and we’ve discussed it sensibly.’
In Morwen’s opinion, such morbid talk was simply inviting bad luck. You couldn’t blithely go on pretending you were immortal, but nor did you need to keep looking over your shoulder for the first sighting of the grim reaper. And she didn’t want to know what arrangements her mammie and daddy had been discussing.
‘I’ve brought Justin’s guest list, and he only wants a couple of people outside the family,’ she said quickly. ‘You know how he hates a fuss, Mammie.’
‘Oh well, ’tis his party, and now there’ll be three extras,’ Bess said, her voice lifting with pleasure, for large family gatherings had never worried her. ‘I remember the other time Matt came home, and it was as if he’d never been away.’
‘He’ll be older now, like all of us,’ Morwen reminded her, wondering how Bess could have forgotten the change in him then. She shivered, knowing she was doing exactly as her mother had done, and felt momentarily as if she donned her mother’s mantle.
It was the way folk felt when the oldest person in a family died, and the next in line took on the role. She didn’t like the feeling, and she concentrated on the party list, and tried not to think of this coming birthday as a special milestone in all of their lives.
* * *
Morwen checked through the names again, half-amazed at the way the family had grown so big. There had once been just Hal and Bess and the five Tremayne children crammed into the tiny cottage on the moors, and now…
‘There’s you and Daddy; Matt and Louisa and Cresswell; Ran and me, Walter and Cathy, Albert and Primmy, Justin and Charlotte – and Charlotte’s friend Vincent – Bradley, Luke and Emma. Then there’s Freddie and Venetia, Jack and Annie, and their girls, Sarah and Tessa, and young Sammie. Justin wants Daniel Gorran to come, but he’s happy to leave it at that. I make that twenty-five in all, and I think that’s quite enough for you to cope with, Mammie.’
‘You’ll have to be sure and let Albert and Primmy know their friends won’t be welcome, then, though I don’t know what Justin’s got against ’em.’
‘Neither do I,’ Morwen said thoughtfully. ‘But you know what a stickler he’s become for correct behaviour, and I doubt that any of that Truro set would behave themselves according to his rules.’
It shouldn’t have surprised her, really. All the boys, especially the older ones, were very different. Walter’s heart was in the clayworks, and Justin had set himself up in direct opposition to him from the moment he’d learned the truth about their backgrounds. While Walter had been desperate to dirty his hands in his beloved clay and learn the work from the inside out, Justin had only ever wanted to dress as a gentleman and do a gentleman’s job.
And as for Albert… if Justin’s business brain held no aesthetic feelings towards the arts, nor did he consider himself a prig. But in his opinion, Albert and Primmy had as good as sold themselves to the ways of the devil, in their style of dress and behaviour, and in the company they kept. Justin had serious doubts about that aspect of their lives too, but he knew better than to mention any of it to his mother.
‘There’s to be twenty-five of us then,’ Bess said now.
‘Are you quite sure about having it here, Mammie? It won’t be too much for you, will it?’ Morwen said again.
‘O’ course it won’t. You just do your part, and me and cook and Mrs Horn will do ours,’ Bess said keenly, and Morwen knew there was nothing more to be said.
‘We’ll have to think of a birthday gift for Cresswell, too,’ she said suddenly. Justin was receiving a horse and trap of his own, but they couldn’t give Cresswell anything so fine. Besides, what did you give to a young man with gold dust literally at his feet?
‘Why don’t you ask Albert to do a portrait of un while he’s here, and we’ll pay for it? Albert commands a fine price in the town nowadays, I hear.’
Bess’s voice was a little incredulous, finding it difficult to imagine folk paying good money for such idling work. To Bess, it could never compare with scratching a living in the clay, or even working long hours by candlelight as she herself had once done, stitching fine seams for the gentry. But then, Albert had never had to do such menial jobs, and wouldn’t know the half of it, she thought generously.
‘That’s a lovely idea, Mammie,’ Morwen exclaimed.
‘I’ll take a ride into Truro now and suggest it to him. It’s a while since I’ve seen him and Primmy, and I can call in on Jack and Annie at the same time, to tell them about our Matt coming home.’
Every time she said the words, she felt the same glow in her heart. Matt was coming home…
* * *
She didn’t often go to the Truro studio. Truth to tell, she was a little uncomfortable herself about the people Albert and Primmy associated with. Not that her own two chicks looked any more proper, and never was a young woman less aptly named than Primmy, Morwen thought wryly.
And if Venetia Tremayne could shock folk by riding into town in her country gear, then how much more eyebrow raising were the young Killigrew set, in their arty clothes and their frankly unconventional appearance? If it wasn’t for their undoubted talents, and the way influential folk were ready to receive them because of it…
It was best to put such thoughts out of her head. Besides, there was a time every year when the bal maidens from all the clayworks roundabout were a sight to behold too, walking for miles in their bonnets and bright garbs to the annual fairs, and attracting curious onlookers. Morwen had once been one of them. Morwen, and her friend Celia Penry…
She drew up in her trap in the courtyard of the house where Albert had his studio, and where Primmy acted as his assistant-cum-chaperone when needed, as long as she wasn’t performing herself. Morwen hoped she would see both of them, and she pushed open the studio door after a perfunctory knock. The whiff of something sweet and sickly met her nostrils, and she wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t unpleasant, but she didn’t like it all the same.
The next minute she forgot it all as Albert came through from a back room. H
e smelled of paint and turpentine, but he smiled broadly, calling out to Primmy at once.
‘Mother, it’s been an age since we saw you!’ Albert said gaily. ‘What brings you to Truro?’
Morwen smiled back into his blue eyes. ‘The best news! Your uncle Matt and his family are coming home from America in time for Justin’s party.’
She saw the smile tighten a little, and remembered too late that Albert had smarted as much as all her adopted children when they had discovered the truth about their background. She wondered if it was one of the reasons why he and Primmy had fought so hard to be themselves, and to be independent of the family. They hadn’t wanted to be clayworkers, nor Killigrews either. They had just wanted to be themselves.
‘You won’t be difficult about this, will you, Albert? You will come?’ she persisted.
‘If Primmy wants to,’ he said carelessly. ‘I hadn’t really made up my mind.’
‘Albert, I’ve never liked a divided family, and what happened in the past should remain there.’
Their glances clashed, and he shrugged. Truth to tell, he’d largely forgotten all those upsets, although Cresswell’s name alone was enough to make him bristle for a moment. But his mother was right. The past was the past, and he was too busy struggling with the present situation with Primmy to waste his energies on it.
What the devil was the girl doing?, he thought suspiciously now. He’d rid the place of the narcotics, but so far he hadn’t convinced their friends to stop bringing more, and the next step was to ban them from coming here altogether if they didn’t agree. The prospect filled Albert with sorrow, but he knew his sister’s life depended on it.
Family Shadows Page 11