She herself was flanked by Ran and Walter, and behind them came Albert, Justin and Charlotte, with Annie and the twin girls, and Cathy Askhew Tremayne. Venetia had stayed in Ireland with Bradley, and Freddie had come home alone, so soon after he had left. None of the smaller grandchildren were attending the burial, and Walter and Cathy’s baby was being cared for by Jane Askhew.
Even now, on such a day, Morwen couldn’t escape the intervention of Miss ‘Finelady’ Jane, she thought, even while she despised herself for thinking it.
But at least it took her mind off the finality of this walk, skirting Hal’s beloved clayworks that were closed for the afternoon, and where so many clayers fell into step behind them; past the little cottage where the Tremaynes had once lived; through the churchyard where Celia Penry and Ben Killigrew were buried; and Sam and Dora too; to pause at last, while the oak coffin carrying Hal Tremayne was carried reverently into the church, and the family and close friends followed it inside.
* * *
The rain had stopped before the burying was over, and by then there was an undeniable sense of relief among them all. They had done the right and proper thing by Hal Tremayne, and for those that were left, lives had to go forward. One of his own favourite sayings was that the past was a distant country.
The family and friends, and a few of the older clayers who had worked so long with Hal, gathered at Killigrew House. Bess presided over the eats and beverages with Mrs Horn, and took umbrage at anyone too afraid to mention Hal’s name.
‘I don’t want sad faces around me,’ Bess declared. ‘Hal wouldn’t have wanted it, and I prefer to think of today as a celebration of his life, not a wake. Mourning’s best done in private, and that’s what I aim to do, so you’ll all oblige me by remembering the good times you all had with un.’
‘She’s a perishing marvel,’ Jack muttered to anyone who would listen. ‘I never thought she’d be so strong.’
Both he and Freddie seemed to have been knocked sideways by the news, Morwen thought. But then, neither of them had been close enough at hand to hear the news on the day, and both were feeling unnecessarily guilty because of it.
Walter was handing round sandwiches, doing women’s work and looking no less of a man for it. He obviously needed to do something with his hands, Morwen thought, and one look at Charlotte’s blotchy face and trembling hands proved that she’d have been little use at the task. Morwen tucked her hand through her daughter’s arm, feeling how tense it was.
‘Try not to take it so hard, love,’ she said softly. ‘I know you’re feeling sad, but Grandad Hal wouldn’t want to see a gloomy face, and we must try to keep smiling for Grandma Bess’s sake.’
‘How can she be so cheerful?’ Charlotte said in a choked voice. ‘If I’d just lost my husband, I wouldn’t be able to laugh and joke with those awful clayworker fellows.’
Morwen sighed. ‘We all deal with grief in our own ways, darling, and this is Grandma Bess’s way. Believe me, it’s no lack of feeling for your Grandad. Those two – well, they were like—’ she searched for the right words and couldn’t find them – ‘like twin souls,’ she finished lamely. ‘And there will be times enough when Mammie will miss him dreadfully. She needs this breathing space from all the loneliness ahead of her, Charlotte, so don’t be disapproving.’
Charlotte went even redder and blotchier, and she looked shamefaced.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I just didn’t understand. Will she have noticed, do you think?’
‘I’m sure she won’t. But why don’t you go and have a few words with her?’
‘I can’t!’ Charlotte said in a panic. ‘I wouldn’t know what to say!’
‘But she’ll know,’ Morwen said, giving the girl a gentle nudge in Bess’s direction. ‘Just be there, Charlotte, and leave the rest to her.’
She stood near the open windows of the drawing room, watching her girl move purposefully towards her grandmother, and saw at once how Bess turned and hugged her and put her at her ease. Morwen couldn’t see what was said from here. But Bess, who was frequently tongue-tied in making conversation with folk, had obviously found a strength and a dignity today that was all the more remarkable because of the occasion.
It was just as if Hal was still with her, guiding her, helping her, as he’d always done. As if she was drawing on some unknown strength… the curtains blew inwards with a little whispering sound at that moment, but the breeze that blew them was a warm one, and Morwen’s eyes momentarily glazed as thoughts of her brother Sam unexpectedly entered her head.
She didn’t consciously think of him a lot nowadays, but she had felt a sliver of comfort at knowing that Hal was with him now, somewhere in that great beyond. And the feeling was very strong in her soul at that moment.
‘Dreaming, dar?’ she heard Ran’s quiet voice beside her, and she turned to him gladly. There was a limit to how much time a person wanted to spend in speculating about that misty other world, and Ran was her solid, flesh and blood husband. She clung to his arm.
‘I was, but I’m back now,’ she said. ‘Daddy always said it was foolish to live in the past, when there’s so much future ahead of us.’
‘He was right,’ her brother Freddie said alongside them. ‘Trouble is, our Morwen, none on us knows how much future we have, do we?’
‘Oh, why did you have to say that?’ she said crossly. ‘I don’t want to think like that today, when we’re all trying to keep up one another’s spirits for Mammie’s sake!’
‘Mammie’s fine right now. But ’tis tonight that she’ll be fretting, and all the other nights that she’s alone.’
‘You’re staying on here a couple of days more, aren’t you, Freddie?’ Morwen said quickly. ‘You won’t go back to Hocking Hall? I know Matt feels the need to be there alone.’
Suddenly, Morwen knew how desperately she wanted to return to her own home with her husband and their young children. From the day of her father’s death, she had stayed with her mother at Killigrew House, but she had found it more emotional than she had expected to be in the house where she’d spent so much of her married life with Ben Killigrew.
She was thankful when Freddie came home, but Matt hadn’t wanted to move out of his temporary home at all. After all these years in America, he was oddly apart from the rest of them now, Morwen thought sadly.
‘Don’t fret, our Morwen,’ Freddie said. ‘I’ll see that Mammie’s not left brooding for the next week.’
And after that? How would Bess feel then? Especially when two of her sons left her for foreign parts again.
But Morwen wouldn’t think so far ahead. It did nobody any good.
‘And I’ll be glad to have my wife home again,’ Ran said. It seemed ages since he’d said anything half so warming to her. Things had been much calmer though, and he’d stopped his heavy drinking. But he’d been oddly restrained on the days he’d come to Killigrew House during the last week, as if wanting to tell her something, then deciding against it. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew it was there.
And although some might think this an odd occasion for Ran to make such a loving comment, she knew her daddy wouldn’t have objected. The belief in an honest love between a man and his wife was one of Hal Tremayne’s best qualities. Morwen felt as if her mouth was able to smile for the first time on this sad day, and she knew Hal would never begrudge her this special glow in her heart.
She saw Justin move towards Bess and kiss her cheek. He was evidently about to leave, though he had a few words to say to his grandmother first. Bess nodded, her face crumpling a little. Dear God, surely Justin knew better than to squash her buoyant mood with a few ill chosen words? Morwen thought, with a stab of anger. But then she saw that Bess was smiling again, and hugging Justin tightly.
It took quite a while for him to make his farewells to members of the family and old friends, but as soon as he reached her side, she tackled him.
‘What did you say to Mammie earlier? You didn’t ups
et her, did you?’ she said bluntly.
‘Give me more credit than that, Mother,’ he said, reverting to his formal name for her. ‘I reminded her that Grandad’s will is in a safety deposit box at my chambers. It was drawn up long ago when Richard Carrick was his lawyer, and then put in Daniel Gorran’s chambers. I’ve told her I’m ready to bring it here for the reading whenever it’s convenient for everyone to be together again.’
Morwen felt her heart lurch. No matter what the thought of an inheritance might be, she hated this reminder of a person’s dying. When old Charles Killigrew had died, leaving a bequest to her, it had caused such an uproar… though she couldn’t think that her daddy would cause any ructions. It would all be straightforward, and if she had ever given it any thought, she had simply assumed that everything was left to Bess, and rightly so. But Justin’s words made her uneasy.
‘So when did Mammie say?’ she said quickly.
‘Tomorrow afternoon,’ Justin said. ‘I think Jack and Annie are planning to stay the night, so it will save them another trip over from Truro.’
‘That’s a sensible idea. Justin—’ she hesitated, wondering if she dare ask the question brimming on her lips. But there was no need. He leaned forward to kiss her before leaving, and answered it for her.
‘No, I wouldn’t tell you what’s in the will, even if I could, and the simple fact is, I don’t know. Richard Carrick always considered a will to be a private document between himself and his client, and Daniel respected that. I don’t even know if he was aware of what’s in it. I certainly don’t. But now I have the key to the safety deposit box, and I’ll open it in the morning to read through before bringing it here. Until then, you’ll just have to contain your curiosity.’
He spoke lightly to take the sting out of his words, but a shadow passed over Morwen’s face as he left the house. She couldn’t imagine why her daddy’s will should be kept a secret from Justin of all people. He’d been an employee in the accountancy and legal firm for so long, then Daniel’s trusted partner, and now its head. Though, Ben had once told her that Richard Carrick was a strictly old-fashioned lawyer, guarding his clients’ wishes as if they were the Crown Jewels, which probably explained things, she thought vaguely.
It also gave her a disagreeable reminder of how much the lives of a narrow community were intertwined, since Carrick was Jane Askhew’s father… Miss ‘Finelady’ Jane, whom she had imagined Ben to be so much in love with at one time. She pushed the thought aside, knowing it had no place in her life now, but the secrecy of the will didn’t rest easy on her mind, and it put an air of mystery into its reading. And she fervently hoped there would be no shocks forthcoming.
* * *
But tonight, she was going home to New World with Ran. She was longing to see the children again, to be free of gloomy thoughts and the oppressive atmosphere of Killigrew House, despite the false cheerfulness of her mother. Even that was starting to get on her nerves now. She wanted normality. She wanted children’s chatter and laughter. She wanted love.
She felt her face grow hot, knowing it was the wrong time to be having such thoughts. But it had happened in her life before, and it hadn’t seemed wrong. To be able to briefly dispel the bad times by the warmth of loving arms around her, and the caress of a loved one’s hands, was surely to be heaven blessed. It had never seemed wrong before, and it didn’t seem wrong now.
Folk who were far more sophisticated than herself might think so, Morwen conceded. Folk who felt the need to go about with long, black faces, and brood upon the passing of friend or relative as if the end of the world had come. So it had, for a time. But Morwen knew in her soul that those who were parted would meet again, and it was surely not an affront to God to rejoice in a person’s lifetime span, instead of incessantly grieving.
She gave a small shiver, hugging her husband’s arm as they rode home in their carriage towards New World. The sun was dying into the horizon now, turning the sea to a sheet of flame, and spreading its reddish glow across the early evening sky and the moors, with the promise of a good day tomorrow. The summer rain that had fallen so softly that morning had put vigorous new life into the dry moors, and tomorrow there would be new blossom bursting forth.
To Morwen, it seemed oddly symbolic, and she never questioned her reasons for feeling that way. For didn’t she know that no God worthy of His salt would put such a promise into a day, unless He wanted his people to be happy.
‘Are you sad, dar?’ Ran said gently, mistaking her soft sigh. She leaned her head against him as the sight of their house came into view, solid and welcoming.
‘I’m only sad for the times that I won’t see Daddy any more,’ she said honestly. ‘But I’m not sad at remembering the life that he had, and I’ll always be grateful for the love that he and Mammie gave to us all. I know he wouldn’t want me to grieve for him unduly, and so I won’t. He always wanted to see me smile, because he said it made his day shine brighter.’
Ran leaned across and kissed her mouth. ‘I know he did, and who could wonder at it, with such a smile as yours, my dear Mrs Wainwright.’
‘Are you flirting with me, sir?’ she whispered, after a moments’ hesitation.
‘I don’t know. Am I? Is it permitted?’ he asked cautiously, unsure of her mood.
‘Oh, I think it is,’ she said, as breathless as a young girl. ‘I think Daddy would be pleased to know that we still love one another so much, even after all this time. And we do, don’t we, Ran?’
‘We do,’ he said, as solemnly as if it was a marriage vow. ‘And we always will, my honey.’
Chapter Sixteen
All except Cathy and the youngest children were gathered together in the large drawing room of Killigrew House the following afternoon. Jack and Annie’s girls were returning to London to their nursing college the next day, but were here for the reading of the will. Justin was very formal and correct as he stood in front of the fireplace with the documents ready to open, while the others sat and waited expectantly, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. It was more like a wake, Morwen thought irritably, knowing Hal would never have wanted that. He’d never liked sad faces around him.
She caught Ran’s glance, and gave him a half-smile that tinged her cheeks with colour. Last night… oh, last night had become so tender and loving, and Ran had swept her into his arms with all the gentleness and finesse of their first tremulous lovemaking, and the glow of it all was still with her… but she remembered where she was, and why they were all here, and she looked away quickly, lest the glances they shared should be understood too well.
But she knew that no one was really bothering about anyone else. They were all intent on trying to be solemn. Trying not to look too eager, or too interested, or too avaricious. Morwen played a little trick of detachment, trying to see the occasion through their eyes, instead of her own…
It was no longer strange to think that Hal Tremayne, one-time clayworker who had risen to such dizzy heights through his own hard work and his daughter’s marriage connections, was a wealthy man. And his wife would naturally and rightly inherit everything, Morwen thought.
Though she would almost certainly hand over the future business dealings to Ran, or maybe Justin, as the family lawyer and accountant. Bess had no head for business, and the very thought of it would unnerve her.
Her brothers… well, Hal would certainly have provided something for them, and for herself, she supposed… at this point, Morwen abruptly stopped speculating. It suddenly seemed all too grasping and sad, and besides, Justin was starting to shuffle his papers about, and looking surprisingly uneasy.
Her heart missed a beat. Justin would have opened the safety deposit box that morning, and read her daddy’s will, but there could surely have been nothing unusual in it, she thought…
‘If we’re all ready, I’ll begin,’ Justin said, and Morwen readjusted her thoughts thankfully as his voice became formal and businesslike.
‘This is the original last Will and Testament of Hal
Tremayne, as signed and witnessed in the presence of Richard Carrick of Truro—’
‘Original?’ Jack echoed sharply. ‘Did you say the original will, Justin?’
‘I did. The first part is the original will, but a codicil was added and witnessed three years ago. The instructions are for the original will to be read out, and then the codicil, in explanation of Hal Tremayne’s wishes. Everything’s in order, Uncle Jack, and I’d be obliged if I can get on with it.’
Jack glanced at his wife, and for the first time Morwen wondered just how anxious Annie Tremayne was to get her greedy little hands on some of her daddy’s money. Not that she needed it. Her own family was well-heeled, and Jack’s boat-building business was a thriving success. Annie had been sweetness itself when Jack married her, but over the years she had proved to be quite a shrewd one, always wanting more.
Morwen ignored such unpleasant thoughts, and listened quietly while Justin went through the bequests in the original document. The house and all its contents, and all Hal’s personal assets were left to Bess, as expected. And then Morwen’s eyes filled with tears at the next words. The will had been expressed in Hal’s own turn of phrase, with none of the pomposity of a lawyer’s hand in it. She blessed Richard Carrick for that, even while it stirred up such memories.
‘To all my natural-born grandchildren, however many scallywags there may be at the time of my death, I leave the sum of three hundred pounds each, to be used for their own enjoyment with no interference from their elders, unless they be too young to know what they’re doing. This is my wish, that they use the money for pleasure, or whatever purpose they choose, and that they spare a kind thought to their grandaddy while doing it.’
Charlotte was openly sniffing now, and Morwen had to swallow hard as she saw Bess’s slight smile. Bess would probably have known all about this, Morwen thought, so it would be no surprise to her. But it must stir up many memories as the ghost of Hal’s voice came through his wishes.
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