Family Ties

by Family Ties (retail) (epub)

  ‘But if I was to lose you—’

  ‘That would be God’s will too, my darling,’ she whispered, and Jack was thankful she couldn’t read his thoughts then, for they were nothing short of blasphemous.

  Chapter Twelve

  Freddie Tremayne didn’t remember his brother Matt in the same way as the rest of his family. To his sister and older brothers, Matt had been frequently in scrapes, sometimes in disgrace, and never more so than when he took up with Jude Pascoe and ran off to America. Yet for all that, Freddie was very much aware that Matt held a special place in all their hearts. Freddie only vaguely remembered all the upset, but he remembered very well his Mammie’s red eyes, and the way his father refused to mention Matt for a long time, as if he was dead… in fact, at eight years old, Freddie had fearfully believed that Matt was dead, and that everyone was hiding the truth from him.

  In time, the fear had diminished, especially when the letters began to arrive from America, and they learned to their amazement that Matt was married with a baby son, and making his fortune. More than once, the idea of going to America to join him had intrigued Freddie. America, where the streets were paved with gold, and you could kick around in the earth and find nuggets of the precious stuff right beneath your feet.

  He had settled for a far more mundane existence. And proprietor of his own chandlery shop suddenly seemed insignificant compared with all that his brother Matt had achieved. There could still be time, of course… Freddie let the thought mull around in his head, and as quickly dismissed it. What would he do in America! He would be even more alone.

  The thought startled him. He had friends and neighbours and a loving family… but he realized how alone he really was. He had no one of his own, and that was what really counted. Matt had his own family; Jack had Annie and the twins; Morwen had her own children, and Sam’s; his parents had each other. But Freddie had no one to call his own.

  The jingle of his shop doorbell jerked him out of his sudden apathy. He smiled at the two seamen who entered, bringing a whiff of the sea with them, and ready to banter awhile with the obliging chandler about the places they had been, and the exotic sights they had seen. And the thought lingered in Freddie’s head that perhaps the lure of the sea wasn’t just one Tremayne brother’s dream after all.

  * * *

  Bess went off happily to her own home, eager to welcome Hal home from the works, and to share in their momentous news together. Morwen waved from the door until her mother left Killigrew House, and turned back to her own excited brood. Young Charlotte was already clambering over Ran Wainwright and begging him to tell them more about their new American cousin that they would see in a few months’ time.

  ‘He’s not new,’ Justin scoffed. ‘He’s ten years old, same as me!’

  ‘He’ll be new to you, Justin, and that’s what your sister means,’ Ran said patiently. ‘Don’t be so pernickety, young man.’

  Justin looked suspicious, uncertain what the word meant, while the older three hooted with laughter.

  ‘Justin Killigrew’s pernickety, pernickety. Justin Killigrew’s pernickety, pernickety!’ They chanted, while he punched imaginary blows at their dodging bodies, his face red with fury.

  ‘Calm down, all of you!’ Morwen had to shout to make herself heard. They were noisy and boisterous, and the end of the afternoon was turning into something of a pantomime. Ben should be enjoying this, she thought with a pang. But Ben was nowhere to be seen, and Mrs Horn informed her he hadn’t been home since the morning, leaving shortly after Morwen and Bess had left for Truro.

  ‘Why don’t you tell us a bit more about Matt’s family, Ran?’ she said to him above the children’s heads. His eyes met hers. In them she saw all the love he hid so quickly. It was not for public display. Nor private indulgence either, and each found ways of keeping carefully apart unless there were others present.

  ‘If these young hooligans will sit still, I just might do that,’ he teased, his tone keeping the sting out of the words, but exacting obedience from them all the same.

  They sat round him in a circle on the floor in front of the drawing-room fire, while Morwen sat on an opposite chair from his, to listen. And to watch the changing planes and contours of his face as he spoke. And to love him.

  ‘Your Uncle Matt is tall and handsome, and very much like your other uncles in appearance. But you know all that. You’ve heard it many times before. Your Aunt Louisa is pretty and dark-haired, and her eyes are deep brown, and as soft as velvet.’

  Morwen felt a shoot of jealousy at his words. It was quite illogical, for Ran spoke with nothing more than affection for his cousin Louisa, and the jealousy that was part of her nature was a wicked thing that she constantly tried to conquer. But it was odd that Ran’s description of Louisa’s eyes should match the way she always thought of Ran’s eyes. Deep brown, and as soft as velvet…

  ‘And Cresswell?’ Albert said eagerly, less interested in the grown-ups than the intriguing new cousin. Ran laughed.

  ‘Cresswell is a very precocious child,’ he said deliberately. ‘But then, many American children are. It comes of being treated far more like junior men and women than children over here. That’s not a criticism of either method, just an observation.’

  ‘What’s precoc – what you said, Uncle Ran?’ Charlotte asked curiously.

  He scooped her up into his lap, where her fingers tickled his sideburns and then played with his expensive lapel pin, made out of Matt’s gold, he had once told Morwen, to her amazement.

  ‘It means he sometimes says things before he thinks. His mouth works before his brain at times, but you’d better not tell him I told you so,’ Ran chuckled. ‘I’m sure you’ll all get on well together, and he’ll be able to tell you lots of things about America.’

  ‘We can tell him things about Cornwall as well,’ Justin said belligerently.

  ‘Well, of course you can.’ Ran glanced at Morwen, raising one eyebrow. She frowned. Sometimes Justin could put on too many airs, and if Cresswell was of a similar type, there could be clashes of personality ahead. But she was probably seeing things that weren’t there. And she was looking forward immensely to meeting her new sister-in-law and nephew. And nothing in the world could dim the joy of seeing Matt again.

  * * *

  Ben finally came home to find a very cosy domestic scene, with his youngest daughter sleepily sitting on Ran’s lap, her arms around his neck, and the rest of the children poring over a map spread out on the floor. Morwen spoke quickly.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind, Ben. I brought it from the study for them to see. They’re keen to follow the progress of Matt’s journey from California.’

  Ben went unsteadily across the room to pour himself some brandy. Morwen didn’t need telling that he had been drinking already, and heavily at that.

  ‘Ben, why don’t you wait until dinner’s ready to have a drink?’ she said hesitantly.

  His answer was to tip the contents of the glass down his throat before pouring another.

  ‘When I need your advice, my dear, I’ll ask for it,’ he snapped. ‘And why should you think I’d mind that you brought the map from my study? I rather thought you considered anything in there was fair game.’

  She flushed, praying that he wouldn’t blab about the money she had taken and what she had done with it.

  ‘Isn’t it time these children went to the nursery for their tea?’ He growled. ‘I want to talk to you, Morwen, and Ran may as well hear it too, but it’s not for children’s ears.’

  ‘If it’s about the clayworks, can’t I stay?’ Walter said daringly. ‘You know how interested I am in it, Father—’

  ‘No, you can’t bloody well stay!’ Ben roared. ‘When I say get your tea, I mean get out of here and get your tea!’

  ‘You treat me like a baby!’ Walter shouted. ‘I’m old enough to work, and you make me stay at school—’

  ‘And you act more like a clayworker’s son than a gentleman’s,’ Ben bawled back.


  ‘No, Ben, please, don’t!’ Morwen’s heart pounded, seeing where this was leading. She leapt up at once, pushing the children towards the door. ‘Walter, darling, don’t be upset. Daddy’s out of sorts. Please do as he says and take the others upstairs. I’m relying on you.’

  He looked at her, hurt and vulnerable, and her heart ached for him. She dearly wanted to take him in her arms, to kiss away all the uncertainties, but she daren’t for fear of Ben’s scoffing that it was Morwen who was treating him like a baby.

  ‘All right, Mother,’ Walter said, choked. ‘I’ll do it because you ask me to.’

  He threw a look of pure hatred at Ben, but he was too taken up with his own thoughts to notice or care. Morwen closed the door behind the children, staring at it for a long moment, and wondering how long she could go on like this, in an atmosphere so full of tensions. She turned to face her husband.

  ‘Must you humiliate him so?’ Her voice was tight with controlled anger. ‘He’s not a child, and boys far younger than him are doing a man’s job at Killigrew Clay—’

  ‘Not for much longer,’ Ben said savagely. ‘I’m having to let all the kiddley-boys go, and some of the older clayworkers as well. The rest will have to double up on the jobs.’

  Morwen’s jaw dropped open, and Ran looked at him sharply.

  ‘Things aren’t that bad, are they, Ben? Surely you don’t need to sack kiddley-boys. Their wages will hardly make much difference—’

  ‘Because they’re only paid a pittance, you mean? My father always said it was pennies that made pounds, and if you need to cut costs, then start cutting where it will hurt least. Would you rather I sacked all the prime workers with families to keep? Young boys and old men must go first.’

  ‘But Ben, why? And you surely can’t include my father in all this!’ Morwen felt rising hysteria. Bad times for the clay were always ominous.

  He gave a short laugh. ‘Naturally I don’t include your father. Use your head, woman.’

  She deeply resented his tone, humiliating her as he had humiliated Walter. But of course he couldn’t sack Hal Tremayne, who was his partner, unknown to the rest of the men. It was one small crumb of comfort. As to the rest of it…

  ‘Are you going to tell us why, or do we have to guess?’ she said quietly. ‘And if you can’t talk civilly to me, Ben, you can talk to yourself.’

  She lifted her head defiantly. How dare he make her feel so gauche and unimportant? Was that how he saw her now, after all the good years? Her throat was thick, tears not far below the surface. She had been so happy, so full of plans for when Matt came home, and she had so wanted Ben to share in that happiness.

  ‘We’re not making money,’ he said harshly. ‘Not only that, we’ve debts to pay that can’t be met. Only a fool would keep on workers that aren’t necessary, and it’s time some of them were weeded out, especially those I suspect of scaggying.’

  ‘Scaggies, yes, but not men who have worked at Killigrew Clay since your father’s time!’

  Her silent censure was evident to him. Charles Killigrew would never be so disloyal to men who had given him a lifetime’s service, whether in the damp of the clay pit or the hot stench of the fire-hole.

  ‘If things are so bad, Ben, perhaps I can help financially,’ Ran offered quietly. Ben glared at him.

  ‘I’m not begging for hand-outs,’ he snapped. ‘I’m just telling you what’s happening. I’ll sort out this mess in my own way, and I don’t want a hue and cry from my own wife when Hal comes storming up here with the news. And there’s more ways of finding money than borrowing—’

  ‘Gambling, you mean? Is that your fine way o’ handling things now?’ Morwen flashed at him in fury. ‘You shame us all, Ben.’

  ‘Really?’ he sneered. ‘It comes to something when a clayworker’s daughter tells a gentleman he shames her—’

  One minute he was looking her up and down contemptuously. The next he was on the floor, rubbing his sore chin, and looking up in disbelief at Ran Wainwright’s furious face. Ran hauled him to his feet.

  ‘Go and stick your head beneath a cold tap and sober up, and then apologize to the lady.’

  Ben spluttered furiously, ‘Who in God’s name do you think you’re talking to? This is my house, and nobody tells me what to do in it—’

  ‘Please stop it, Ben!’ Morwen heard her own shrill voice, appalled at the sight of them wrangling.

  Ben jerked his head to look at her. ‘Afraid I might take a swing back at him, are you? Perhaps you care more about him than your husband after all, is that it?’ He made a choking sound as Ran grasped him by the lapels.

  ‘I’m warning you, Killigrew. Act like a lout and you can expect to be treated like one. As for this being your house, I’m well aware of that fact. You treat everyone in it like servants, including your wife and family. It will be my pleasure to move out of it tomorrow.’

  ‘Ran, no!’ Morwen was hot with embarrassment. ‘Your house isn’t ready yet—’

  ‘I shall go to an hotel,’ he told her.

  ‘I’m sure my parents would be happy to have you stay with them – if you didn’t think their house too small,’ she spoke quickly to cover the shame she felt at Ben’s words, then immediately had doubts.

  ‘I would be more than honoured to stay with them, but it will be more sensible if I go to an hotel in Truro nearer my own office and business.’

  And farther away from all that he loved best in the world. Leaving her to this shambling man who was once such a proud young clay boss. What had made him sink this low, Ran couldn’t guess. He hated the thought of leaving her, but if Ben suspected the two of them had been more than friends, Morwen’s life would be made a misery. Ben still had some pride, he conceded. He would never accept outside help. Instead, he intended to risk everything on the throw of a dice or a turn of the cards. In Ran’s opinion all gamblers were fools, and this one, with so much to lose, was the biggest fool of all.

  ‘I have to go out for a while, Morwen,’ he spoke to her directly, ignoring her husband. ‘Will you be all right?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t she be all right?’ slurred Ben.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Morwen nodded. There might have been only the two of them in the room. His eyes told her how much he loved her, and hers sent a silent message back to him.

  ‘I’ll pack my things when I get back, and leave right away. I’ll let your brothers know where I’m staying, and of course you know where my office is, any time you want to get in touch with me.’

  He squeezed her shoulder for a second, then turned and went swiftly out of the house. He would give the world to take her with him, to make her his for ever, but there was more to consider than the love and desire he felt for her. There were the children, and her family, and the scandal that would follow. And even though Ran knew in his soul that he could persuade her, it cost him more to walk away than to beg her to go with him.

  But before it was too late, there was something he had to do. He saddled a horse, and rode through the gathering dusk into the town of St Austell. The lamplighter was doing his rounds, and the bow-fronted shop windows were lighted and welcoming, throwing a silvery sheen on to the cobbled streets. Ran found the street he wanted and tied his horse to the iron ring of a mounting-block. He took the stone steps two at a time and went inside a sombre brown door. A few minutes later he entered the accounting chambers.

  ‘My dear Ran, it’s good to see you,’ Daniel Gorran said with real pleasure. In the few months he had known the American, he had grown to like and respect him. He had been sorry to lose Ran’s services to the claystone works, but was glad of the man’s success and appreciative of his keen business sense.

  ‘Will you take a drop of brandy to keep out the cold?’ Gorran asked.

  ‘Thank you, no, but don’t let me stop you,’ Ran said drily. He’d seen enough of brandy drinking that afternoon, but didn’t begrudge this man his drop of comfort. When Gorran had poured his drop, he turned to his visitor with a smile.

 
‘Now then, what brings you here? You just caught me. I was about to shut up shop and go home.’

  ‘It’s rather a delicate matter, and you can tell me to go away and mind my own business—’

  ‘I doubt that I shall do that, my dear young Sir.’

  ‘You may do so, when you hear that I’m prying into another man’s business affairs.’

  ‘I see. And that man would be?’

  Ran looked at him steadily. ‘I think you must guess that it’s Ben Killigrew, Daniel. And I don’t pry out of idle curiosity, but because I’m damnably worried about the state of the man, and what I suspect the state of his business to be.’

  ‘You’re not alone in that, Ran, but you know that I can’t divulge my client’s affairs to you.’

  ‘I do know it, and I respect you for that. But if you were to leave the file on the desk for ten minutes or so while you are out of your chambers, I could look after the place for you until you came back.’ He looked at the older man steadily. ‘Daniel, I can’t help him if he doesn’t want to be helped, but neither can I know how deep a mess he’s got into unless I know facts and figures. The information will remain strictly confidential, naturally.’

  After a few seconds, Gorran nodded slightly.

  ‘I know I can trust you, Ran. Well then. I do have to see someone which will take about ten minutes, so if you wouldn’t mind holding the fort, I’d be obliged.’

  He opened a drawer in a wall cabinet and took out the bulky file that Ran recognized immediately, even if it hadn’t been stamped with Ben’s name and that of Killigrew Clay underneath. He waited until Gorran’s footsteps had gone and then opened the file and began to read quickly, taking notes as he did so.

  ‘Dear God!’

  He muttered the words time and again as he read. Debts had mounted alarmingly. Ben owed money for just about everything. He owed the coal suppliers for six months’ fuel to stoke the fire-holes in all four pits, and for running his railway. He owed payment on the fine new beam engine he’d had to replace the old one at Clay One. He owed various shipping accounts. There were debts on the household accounts, from the simplest things like candles and kitchen supplies, to stabling bills and overdue payment for school fees.