If only he hadn’t caught her being so soft-eyed over Ben’s old pin, Morwen thought miserably. She knew very well that was the cause of his unpredictable tempers, with her and the children. And it was all so foolish, and so unnecessary…
* * *
‘I saw Justin today,’ she told him over dinner that evening.
He had allowed himself to join her and the children for the evening meal. More often than not, he’d continued eating alone in his study, under the pretext of a heavy workload, until Morwen had complained angrily, saying that if he wanted to stir up more gossip he was going the right way about it.
‘Why?’ he asked.
She seethed at the way he answered her as briefly as possible, as if he couldn’t bear to exchange a few civil words with her.
‘I asked him not to make any scenes with Walter at the party,’ she said coolly. ‘And it might be something for other folk to remember as well. I don’t want anything to spoil this occasion.’
His eyes flashed at her, taking her meaning at once, but the children were watching them closely, and he poured himself a large glass of table wine instead, and from the way he swallowed it, he might have been parched, Morwen thought in some disgust.
But she was also becoming alarmed. She had seen the effects of heavy drinking on Ben, and she couldn’t bear to see Ran going the same way. Suddenly, her Mammie’s unintentional burst of humour didn’t seem so funny any more. Nor so unlikely.
‘There’ll be no disharmony on my account,’ he retorted. ‘You forget it’s my family as well as yours. I knew my cousin Louisa long before your brother ran off to America and married her.’
Morwen flinched at the words, and she shot a warning look at him as Luke showed a new interest in these visiting relatives. As far as he knew, Matt had always lived there, and he was too young to question the reasons for him being there. But he remembered at once now, how his mother had said that all her brothers had once worked for Killigrew Clay, and his young mind began to put things together.
‘Did Uncle Matt run off to America?’ he said, clearly charmed by the thought.
‘He didn’t run. He left on a ship, Luke,’ Morwen said shortly. ‘He and a – a friend went to seek their fortunes. After they parted company, your Uncle Matt got rich by finding gold. He met Aunt Louisa in America and they got married. Aunt Louisa is your daddy’s cousin, and when your daddy visited Cornwall, he decided to look up his new Cornish relatives.’
The children were both gaping at her now, having heard nothing of all this until this moment. She hadn’t meant to say so much, but once she’d started, it all came spilling out. All the charm, and the sweet irony that had brought Ran Wainwright to these shores, a stranger looking to make acquaintance with the family of his cousin’s husband. And when he found Morwen, he told her he’d found his destiny.
She looked at him now, and her heart was mirrored in her eyes, willing him to remember it too. But he seemed only interested in drinking more red wine, while the children clamoured to hear more.
‘What happened to his friend, Mammie?’ Emma said, and Morwen’s heart jolted, wondering why she had been so foolish as to mention a friend at all. It would have been just as easy to say that Matt went to America to seek his fortune, without ever having to remember the hated name of Jude Pascoe.
‘I don’t know,’ she said quickly. ‘It doesn’t matter, anyway.’
‘Did he find gold, like Uncle Matt?’ Luke persisted.
‘I tell you I don’t know! I never heard of him again.’
But she had. There had been that terrible moment at Truro Fair, when they had come face to face, and she knew he was back. And then the knowledge that he was blackmailing her after he’d seen her with Ran; so in love, but still married to Ben Killigrew, Jude’s own cousin.
And the way she had refused to give in to his blackmail and got rid of him for good, by threatening to tell the authorities what he’d done all those years ago. Of how he’d impregnated her dearest friend, Celia, causing her to have an agonizing abortion that had turned her brain, and sent her walking into the milky slime of the clay pool to drown.
‘I’ll be in the study for an hour or two,’ Ran’s voice penetrated her tormented mind, having no idea of the turmoil she was going through now.
‘Ran, please don’t work this evening,’ she said, her voice desperate. For once the children had gone to bed, there would be nothing to do but think. And she couldn’t bear to have to think, and remember…
‘Oh, I’m sure you can do without me for an hour or two, honey,’ he said sarcastically, and left the room without even saying good-night to his children.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Later, Morwen reflected that at least a few of her anxieties had been groundless. Matt had brought his family home, and taken them to see Bess straight away, and she learned that Primmy had spent a long private time with her grandmother.
Whatever had been said about Hal was between the two of them, but Bess’s common-sense approach to life and death had left Primmy clearer-eyed than Morwen had expected. And, of course, much of her resilience was due to her happiness with Cresswell. One look at them both, and Morwen had no doubts where her daughter’s future lay.
The excitement of the wanderers’ return was added to when they heard of the party that was planned. As she’d told Ran, she knew her brother, and that he would welcome this family get-together. It had proved just as she had said. And her brother knew her, too.
Before Matt left for London to meet his family, he’d held her hands in his and as he looked searchingly into her face, the colour of his eyes was a match for hers.
‘I hope all will soon be well with you, our Morwen,’ he said.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she began, but she should have known it was no use trying to hide things from Matt. They had always been the closest in the family when they were children. He was always her dearest, dreamy-eyed brother, and she had been so amazed and so proud of him when he’d turned out to be a businessman after all.
‘I mean that you and Ran are at loggerheads, and trying to hide it from the rest of us, and it don’t suit you, dar,’ he said simply.
‘We’ll work things out between us,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you worrying about us, Matt. It’s nothing that can’t be resolved.’
‘Do it soon, then. I don’t want to leave for home until I know you’re happy.’
America was home to him now, of course… after all these years, it still gave her a little shock to hear him refer to it that way. And America would soon be Primmy’s home too. Her girl would no longer think of Cornwall as home…
As she looked at her across the room at New World on the night when the farewell party was in full swing, and saw how Primmy positively sparkled, she thought of it again, and felt a sharp pang. She would miss her so much. It didn’t matter a jot that Primmy had lived these last years in Truro. She was still near, still a part of them all, and soon she would be gone.
‘Mammie,’ she felt a touch on her shoulder, and turned with a bright smile as she saw Charlotte standing there, looking so pretty in her flounced blue frock. She still had Charlotte. And Emma. There were other daughters, other sons. But somehow – and folk could say what they liked about the rights and wrongs of it – the first was always special. The first daughter and the first son, Primmy, and Walter. She thought of them as this – even though she knew they weren’t really her own.
Her heart gave an uncomfortable leap, as she looked through the long, open French windows and saw Walter and Justin arguing and gesticulating furiously in the garden. But even as she watched the little cameo scene, she saw Ran go to them. She couldn’t hear the words above the noise, but it was clearly enough to pacify them for the moment, and she was mightily relieved when the two young men separated. But she also knew it wasn’t over yet…
‘Mammie, I’ve been trying to tell you something!’ came Charlotte’s impatient young voice again.
‘I’m sorry, lamb, m
y mind was wandering, like it always does on these occasions. It’s advancing age, or so they tell me,’ she said, with an attempt at a joke.
Charlotte hugged her arm as they both strolled out into the garden. The night was so warm, the indigo sky dotted with a million stars, the air as fragrant with blossom as only a Cornish summer night could be.
‘You’ll never be old, Mammie. You’ll always be young and you look so beautiful tonight. That colour is wonderful for you,’ Charlotte said, so unexpectedly that it brought tears to Morwen’s eyes.
Justin was the one who was easy with the compliments, with his lawyer’s ease with words, and it didn’t often come from her daughter. But the glorious russet-coloured silk gown had brought compliments from many sources tonight, except from the one she would most like to hear it from.
‘Anyway,’ she went on, before Morwen could think how to answer her. ‘I wanted to ask you something very private, and before I do, I want you to promise me you won’t say anything to anybody about it.’
They were strolling in the shrubbery now, where the scent of roses was overpowering, and Morwen suddenly felt faint. She knew she shouldn’t anticipate the worst, but right now, Charlotte sounded more anxious than happy. If she was about to hear something bad, she wasn’t sure she could bear it. If her girl had got herself into trouble, it would disgrace the family name…
‘Of course I promise, darling,’ she said quickly, because Charlotte was waiting intently for her answer, and there was no other that she could give.
‘Well, it’s to do with Vincent and me,’ Charlotte said.
Morwen stared stonily ahead, trying to keep her heartbeats steady, and failing miserably.
‘I know you’ve been seeing a lot of one another, but it was with his family’s approval, wasn’t it?’ Morwen questioned.
‘Oh yes.’ Charlotte dismissed such a formality with the impatience of youth. Even if it hadn’t been with the Pollards’ approval, the two of them would have found a way to be together, Morwen thought, with a glimmer of humour, and a lot of love.
‘Hadn’t you better tell me what it is that’s bothering you, then?’ she asked, as they reached a garden seat and sat down together. ‘I’ll help you, Charlotte. You know that – whatever it is.’
She couldn’t be more outspoken than that at this stage, but to her surprise Charlotte burst out laughing.
‘Oh Mammie, I can see what you’re thinking! Oh, it’s nothing like that! Vincent and I – well, he respects me, truly he does, but he loves me as well. And I love him.’ Her voice sobered at once. ‘And – well, this is what I wanted to ask you about. We want to be married, to be together always, and I know Daddy will say we’re too young. Vincent will do the proper thing and ask his permission, but I’m so afraid that with Daddy like he is just now, he’ll refuse and get in a temper and spoil everything.’
She ran out of breath, and in the moonlight and the lights streaming out from the house, Morwen could see the glint of tears in her eyes. She hugged the girl’s hands tightly, her heart going out to her. And feeling an enormous anger at Ran, that Charlotte could think his recent moods far-reaching enough to threaten her happiness.
‘Your father wants the best for you, same as I do, and I know that you and Vincent will be happy. But you are very young, my darling, and this is not the best of times—’
‘But why should we be made to pay for his black drinking moods?’ Charlotte said passionately, and Morwen was sick at heart to hear her speak so.
Charlotte didn’t even live at home any more, but the news of Ran Wainwright’s drinking bouts had spread far and wide. Even to the extent of an outrageous cartoon appearing in The Informer. No names were mentioned in the caption, but the sketchy sky-tips in the background of the cartoon, and the furious, angry face of a man slating his inferiors with a bottle in each hand, made it more than obvious. The thought that the whole district would have seen it, had mortified Morwen for days.
‘Will you do something for me, Charlotte?’ she said evenly now. The girl nodded dubiously.
‘Wait until after the autumn clay despatches. It’s not that far away now, and you know how everyone gets tetchy around that time. And with all the business deals still to be settled, it’s not a good time to suggest anything else. But after that I promise you I’ll smooth the path for you and Vincent, darling.’
Charlotte threw her arms around her neck and hugged her. And Morwen’s own eyes were moist, knowing only too well how desperately time apart dragged for two people in love, when all you wanted was to be together.
‘Let’s go inside. And not a word of what we’ve been saying,’ she went on. ‘It will be our secret, Charlotte.’
And as long as Vincent Pollard respected her… the two of them walked into the house with linked arms, and Charlotte could never have guessed the way Morwen was remembering another secret that had happened so long ago. Remembering how desperately she and Ran had made love in that little London hotel while her husband, Ben, lay in hospital. It had been wrong… and yet nothing had seemed more right, because their love for each other had been all-consuming.
She looked at Ran in the drawing room now, fiercely discussing something with her brothers. If only Ran hadn’t become so aggressive. If only they could all be happy…
‘Freddie’s taking me home now, Morwen,’ she heard her mother’s voice say. ‘I’ve a need to be in my own bed, and I’ve made my goodbyes, so we’ll be leaving. Jack and Annie and young Sam will be coming with us too.’
‘But it’s still early, Mammie!’
‘Not for an old un, my lamb,’ Bess said with a smile. And when Morwen could see how this arrangement suited them all, she bade them all good-night.
The party went on until the early hours. Justin had left for Truro long ago, clearly wanting to get away from this place, where he had to see how Walter Tremayne and his wife and child were so adulated. And the Wainwright children had been put reluctantly to bed, while the rest of them lingered as long as they felt able. Albie and Rose Slater had gone, and Albie was clearly elated to see how everyone had adored Rose from the outset.
Before they left, Morwen needed to have a quiet word with Freddie.
‘Are you sure Bradley’s all right?’ she said, anxious and guilty, because she’d hardly had time to worry about him lately. ‘You would tell me if all wasn’t well, wouldn’t you, Freddie? And I do miss him—’
‘Oh ah! Like a thorn in your side!’ he said, with a teasing laugh. ‘Don’t you fret none about that young man, our Morwen. He’s well and happy, and I’ll persuade un to write to you to tell you so.’
‘That’ll be the day,’ she said, smiling back. ‘But I’ll write to him, Freddie, and that’s a promise. And Ran and me are so grateful to you and Venetia for everything.’
‘That’s enough now, or you’ll have us both slobbering, and I’m too old for such nonsense,’ he said briskly, as her eyes began to fill. He gave her a quick hug, and went to collect his mother.
* * *
Matt and his family were the last to leave. He put his arms around his sister quite uninhibitedly and without any hurry to release her. He was her dearest brother, and had always been so. He spoke softly in her ear, so that only she could hear.
‘I don’t always find the words to say what I feel, my honey girl, but if I don’t say it now, I probably never will. I just want you to know that no matter how far apart we are, you’ll always be in my heart.’
‘And you’ll be in mine,’ she whispered.
It was a sweet, private, poignant moment, and when she let him go and saw him turn to his family, she felt as possessive of him as if he had been a lover. The feeling passed just as quickly, and thankfully so. She loved him so much, and always would, but he was her brother and nothing more. And he belonged to Louisa.
Finally, she and Ran were alone, and she felt an awkwardness she couldn’t explain at first. And then she knew the reason for it. They had had many family parties over the years, and the evening had alw
ays ended with the two of them dissecting the success of it all, talking about how the rest of them fared, and amicably or forcefully putting the family problems to rights.
Tonight, none of that happened. Morwen was too emotional over the thought of Matt leaving for America next week, and she couldn’t confide in Ran over what Charlotte had told her. As for Ran… the need to talk seemed to be overtaken by the need to drink. He must have consumed plenty all evening, she thought in some alarm, but he still had the capacity to take more and remain standing.
‘It’s time for bed,’ he slurred, speaking very slowly and measuring every word.
‘I’m sure you can find your own way upstairs,’ she said coolly.
She rose from the sofa and made to swish past him, but he caught at her hand. His palm felt sweaty, and she felt a sliver of fear, as an instant flash of memory reminded her of how it had been with Ben. He too had been drinking heavily, his skin sweaty and ill at ease in the days before the heart attack. She brushed aside the feeling. Ben had been a fit man in his youth, but had never been as full of vigour as Ran, and it was ridiculous to make such a comparison.
‘But I want you to come with me,’ Ran said now, his voice soft and full of meaning.
She felt a little shock. He had stayed in the guest bedroom ever since they had hurled insults at one another. He hadn’t wanted to be in her bed then, and she hadn’t expected it now. From the look and the smell of him, all he needed was to fall into bed and sleep the clock round.
‘Ran, you’ve had too much to drink. What you need now is sleep—’
‘I need my wife,’ he shouted, his mood instantly changing with the ease of the very drunk. ‘It’s been too long since I’ve felt your charms, my honey, and I want to feel them now.’
He pulled her to him so fiercely that she gasped for breath. He stunk of spirits, and his eyes were wild. But there was a primitive hunger about him that excited her despite her revulsion. She felt his hands on her breasts, and the way his tongue forced itself into her mouth.
Family Shadows Page 31