by Iris Gower
‘Then give me a rational explanation.’ Bridie’s words fell like stones and she saw Paul’s mouth tighten in anger.
‘I do not like your tone of voice,’ he said. Bridie was taken aback by his air of confidence, for a moment, she didn’t know how to react, had she been wrong?
From the ale room below came the sound of ribald laughter, the voices of men raised in the high spirits engendered by strong drink. She thought then of the pair of them standing outside in the rain, the woman looking up at Paul, the tilt of her face indicating a closeness that was not that of a casual acquaintance.
‘Charlesworth, he warned you I was here, didn’t he?’ She resumed her attack. ‘You were outside with your doxy, I saw you with my own two eyes and the ship’s master warned you, don’t take me for a fool, Paul.’
He came to her then and took her hands in his. ‘You are being a fool, my darling,’ his voice was suddenly soft. ‘I was walking along with the landlady’s daughter, that was all. She does my laundry while I’m in dock, there is nothing else to it, I assure you.’
He took her in his arms and she allowed her head to rest against the broadness of his shoulder. He was not a tall man but Paul had the whipcord strength of a man who lived his life battling against the sea.
‘If only I could believe you, Paul, I want to believe you, God alone knows I do.’
‘Then believe me, I’m not having an affair with Ellie Hopkins.’
She so wanted to believe him. He lifted her chin and kissed her lips warmly and as she clung to him, he kissed her neck, his hands caressing her shoulders so that she leaned against him weak with desire.
‘Come on, let’s eat a little supper and then go to bed. As you’re here, we might as well make the most of the occasion.’
She raised her mouth to his and he kissed her and if she sensed relief more than passion in his embrace, she was too grateful to question it.
It was only later, lying beside him, wakeful in the unfamiliar room clothed in darkness that the questions began to creep into her mind. For whom was Paul doing the favour of carrying the leather to Ireland if not for Ellie Hopkins? Paul had spoken of the landlady’s daughter doing his laundry as though it was a task she undertook regularly. That meant he was in Ireland a great deal more often than she supposed. Was this the couple’s trysting place? Did Ellie Hopkins travel out here on the Marie Clare with him, was she even now lying snug aboard ship?
She turned over on her back. What if she was? Surely Bridie could overlook a small indiscretion with a woman of no social standing. But Ellie Hopkins did have some standing in the town now that she was a rich widow. Bridie must make a point of monitoring Paul’s trips more closely in the future, it seemed her husband must be kept on a tight rein. For now, she must get some sleep, it had been a long day.
Morning was creeping through the chink in the curtains by the time Bridie managed to sleep. When she awoke, it was to find the bed beside her was cold and empty. Paul had gone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘Look, Ellie, you know as well as I do what Jubilee intended and that was for me to have a share in the business, it’s only fair that you carry out Jubilee’s wishes.’
Ellie was seated in the shabby parlour, the fire glimmered in the grate, the embers sending up sparks as the coal shifted. It had been a hot summer’s day but now, in the evening, it had turned quite chill.
Ellie looked up at Matthew, she felt weary, weary and sick at heart, all she longed for was some peace. ‘I told you it will be sorted out, Matthew,’ she pushed back her hair. ‘I won’t cheat you of anything, you know that but I can’t do this thing alone, I have to have Mr Telforth’s help. You’ll just have to be patient.’
‘He won’t lift a finger to help! He didn’t like me and he made that obvious. It’s a few months now since we put Jubilee in the ground, I think I’ve been patient enough and no-one can say I haven’t.’
‘I’ve given you a rise in your wages, made you chief hand, I don’t see what else I can do.’
‘You can honour your husband’s wishes, that’s what you can do. Had I been made a shareholder, I’d be a rich man now and it is what Jubilee wanted, isn’t it?’
She could see he was going to persist in the matter. ‘I’ll see the lawyer about it, don’t keep on, Matthew, I just can’t cope with it all at a time like this,’ she attempted to divert him. ‘Are you getting married soon, Matthew? Isn’t that what you led Jubilee to believe?’
‘He assumed that was the case, aye, not that I said anything was certain, mind.’
Ellie’s patience was growing thin. ‘Are you getting married or not, give me a straight answer for once in your life?’
He smiled as though amused by her irritation. ‘Maybe and maybe not.’ Matthew thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘I have been giving my future prospects some thought. You know I’ve always been fond of you, Ellie, perhaps it would be a good idea if I stayed free for the time being, you never know what could come out of our friendship.’
Ellie felt her skin crawl with revulsion, she rose to her feet, clenching her hands together resisting the temptation to slap Matthew hard across his smug face.
‘There could never be anything between us,’ she said, ‘put that right out of your mind, Matthew.’
‘Why not? I’m young and strong, Ellie, I could give you children, heirs, strong healthy sons. I’m not a seedless grape like old Jubilee was.’
‘That’s enough!’ Ellie felt anger burn inside her. ‘I won’t have such coarse talk in my house, I never heard the like from my father or from Jubilee and I won’t listen to it from you.’
Matthew lifted his chin and swaggered to the door. ‘Don’t pretend to be so holy and good, Ellie, I know too much about your past for you to try to pull the wool over my eyes.’
‘How dare you?’ Ellie walked past him into the hallway and drew the door wider letting in the late evening sunshine. ‘If you think that sort of threat will endear you to me then you’re very wrong.’
‘Aw come on, you know I’m only joshing.’ Matthew realized he’d overstepped the line. ‘I wouldn’t hear a word against you, Ellie, I’d kill any man who went over your name in public and you know it.’
Ellie’s shoulders sagged. ‘Look, Matthew, put any ideas of a romance between us out of your mind. In any case, it wouldn’t pay you, don’t you realize I’d lose respect if I married within a year of Jubilee’s death.’ She saw his look of surprise with a sense of triumph. ‘I fully intend to observe a year of mourning, it’s only proper, so you must see that marriage to anyone is out of the question.’
‘Oh, I do see, I agree that’s only right and proper.’ Matthew’s words came out in a rush. ‘But I’ll be here, helping you, I’ll protect you from the other men, I’ll look after you.’
To her relief, Matthew left her then and strode out into the roadway leading to the tannery yard. The shadows were long over the wooden buildings, it was high time the men finished work but Ellie was too tired to follow Matthew and give instructions for them to leave.
Luke and Harry were faithful workers, good men, and Boyo would do anything he could to help her but as Ellie returned to the sitting room, she faced the fact that none of them could protect her from Matthew Hewson.
‘I can’t marry you now, you must see that.’ Matthew was lying on the grass, the sun warm on his naked back. ‘I must get this thing sorted out with Jubilee’s widow.’
Rosie turned to him, her bodice still open to reveal her full breasts, her skirt riding up above her dimpled knees. Her rosy lips were pressed together in a pout.
‘We’ll get married when I can give you a good living,’ he continued, stretching his arms behind his head. ‘I need to wheedle the shares Jubilee promised me from Ellie before I make any commitment.’
‘Duw, there’s long words then, the poet in you coming out is it, Mat Hewson?’ Rosie slid her hand between his legs, ‘But this is where you keep your brains, man, don’t try to fool me.’ She giggled as she felt him
harden, ‘Led by their urges, men are, see, and a sensible woman knows that only too well.’
He swiftly unbuttoned his trousers and then he was above her, poised for a moment before thrusting downwards. She cried out at his roughness but as his hands found her naked breasts, she began to moan softly. Matthew paused and Rosie’s eyes flew open questioningly.
‘Who is ruled by what?’ he laughed, his teeth white, his head bent towards her. ‘I could resist you, my dear Rosie but I don’t think you would like that one little bit.’ He thrust into her so deeply that she squirmed beneath him. And then Matthew paused once more, a restraint that in his present frame of mind was easy to achieve, besides, he needed to teach Rosie a lesson.
‘Please, Mat, don’t tease, come on, I need you, I really need you right now.’
‘Beg,’ he ordered, still holding back.
‘All right, I beg you, Mat, make love to me, I want you so badly I’ll die if you stop now.’ Rosie was gasping, she arched herself upwards to accommodate him and he took her then with an almost disdainful lack of passion, watching her writhe, failing to climax until he closed his eyes and imagined it was Ellie with her enticing fortune who was lying beneath him.
Later, he sat in the Ship Inn enjoying a pint of ale, and slowly his thoughts crystallized into a workable plan. He would stop harassing Ellie for shares in the fortune that Jubilee had left, he would work his way into her life, into her heart, he would eventually marry her and then all of it would be his.
He wiped the froth of ale from his mouth with the back of his hand. It would be no hardship, Ellie was a delectable creature, a little too thin perhaps and lacking the full-breasted beauty that Rosie possessed but, all the same, a brood of kids around her skirts would take care of that. She would doubtless fill out in time.
She would see he would be good to her, he wouldn’t allow her to work in the tannery, he’d want his wife in the home, waiting on his needs. He would be doing her a favour really, she didn’t know how lucky she was to have him but she would learn, in time she would learn.
Ellie sat in the coolness of the chapel and bowed her head for a moment in respectful prayer. The sun spilled in through the windows, falling onto the lectern and the young man who stood there, waiting to preach his message to the expectant congregation.
Evan Roberts had, over the past months, made an impact on both the church-going population and those who never bowed the knee in prayer. The name of Evan Roberts had become synonymous with the joy of the renewed spirituality that was sweeping through the country and reaching far out beyond the borders of Wales.
Seated beside Ellie was her new friend. Martha Greenacre had come to Ellie’s door several weeks before in response to the advertisement in The Swansea Times. She was a plump motherly woman who was seeking a post as companion in some respectable house and even though she held a spotless handkerchief to her nose, offended at the smell of the tannery, she had liked Ellie on sight and had been delighted when the liking was reciprocated.
‘He’s a fine man, all right,’ Martha whispered, her Bible clutched in her gloved hands. ‘I think the Lord has truly blessed him that he can bring such joy to the faces of his congregation even before he begins to speak.’
Ellie was aware of someone taking the seat at her other side and as she glanced around, her face lit up in welcome.
‘Mr Bennett how nice to see you,’ she whispered. He took her hand and shook it awkwardly. ‘Please, call me Daniel won’t you?’ he whispered back. ‘I spotted the empty seat when I came in, there aren’t many left.’ He smiled and a dimple creased his cheek. ‘I was doubly pleased when I saw who it was I’d be sitting next to.’
Ellie felt her colour rise, it was clear that the young reporter was paying her a compliment, something she had been unused to. Jubilee’s love had been solid and reliable but hardly romantic. She suppressed the thought as unworthy and bowed her head once more.
‘I’m here for the paper,’ Daniel whispered, bending close to Ellie, ‘seems the Cardiff Western Mail carried an article headed, “Great crowds of people drawn to Loughor”.’ He smiled a little ruefully. ‘Arian Smale is a fine editor, she’s already published one article about the great man but she feels I should follow it up.’
Someone hushed him from behind and Ellie saw that Evan Roberts was about to begin.
‘Let us pray.’ The muted sound of conversation was stilled, the sunlit motes of dust caught in falling patterns from high windows to floor. Ellie felt herself tense, as though awaiting the opening of a great play.
‘Lord Jesus, help us now through the Holy Spirit to come face to face with the cross. Whatever the hindrances may be, we commit the service to thee.’
Ellie recognized the power of the preacher, his words were ordinary but imbued with such feeling that tears rose to her eyes. Beside her, she heard Martha’s slight sniff as she raised her spotless handkerchief to her eyes. On her left, she heard the scratch of Daniel’s fountain pen, otherwise the silence was complete.
Evan Roberts was finishing his prayer. ‘Speak thy word in power for thy name’s sake. Amen and amen!’
The silence was broken by murmurs of amen from the congregation and then, a deacon rose from the Set Fawr and began to sing. His tenor voice filled the church, echoing from the rafters, sweet and pure. He was joined by other singers, tenor and bass in harmony.
Ellie felt tears come to her eyes, how Jubilee would have loved the magic of the sound. Daniel put his hand over hers, in a gesture of understanding.
Later, outside in the soft summer sunshine, Ellie paused breathing in the sweetness of the day.
‘Wasn’t he wonderful!’ Martha was still drying her eyes, ‘such hwyl I’ve never heard before.’
Daniel leaned towards Ellie. ‘What’s “hwyl” when it’s at home?’
‘Enthusiasm, I suppose that’s the nearest I can get to it in English,’ Ellie said quietly. ‘One thing I know, he makes me ashamed of myself, I haven’t lived a very worthy life.’
‘I can’t believe that.’ Daniel looked down at her, his eyes warm. ‘Someone as young and beautiful as you has surely enjoyed an exemplary past.’
‘We’d better get off home.’ Ellie took Martha’s arm. ‘Nice to see you, Mr Bennett.’
‘Daniel, please.’ He fell into step beside her, ‘I have to get back to town, too, may I have the pleasure of your company on the journey?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Ellie didn’t know why she was reluctant to share her time with Daniel, perhaps it was because he was so young and innocent and knew nothing of her past. He believed her to be simply an old man’s widow, she wouldn’t like him to be disillusioned by the truth. If she gave him a wide berth there was no reason why he should find out that she had been a mistress once.
Martha took to the young reporter and it was she who kept up a running conversation with him during the journey. He walked at Ellie’s side, keeping a respectful distance and she knew he was covertly watching her every move.
A sharp regret filled her for lost innocence. If she had never become Calvin’s mistress she would never have born twins, never have suffered the anguish of losing them, never, in all probability, settled for the life of wife to an old man. Yet she had come to love Jubilee, to respect him. He had been wise and good and she missed him so much it hurt.
‘How sad you look,’ Daniel spoke his thoughts aloud and then immediately apologized.
‘Forgive me for being rude,’ his colour had risen. ‘I didn’t mean to insult or hurt you, it’s just that . . .’ He stopped aware that if he continued speaking he would be digging himself further into indiscretions.
‘I suppose I feel sad,’ Ellie replied. ‘I’m missing my husband, I wish he could have been with me to hear Evan Roberts today.’ She paused, knowing she was building a wall between Daniel and herself. ‘He liked the preacher very much, respected him though Jubilee always stayed loyal to his own Church of England code, mind, nothing would have turned him from that.’
Dani
el looked down at his feet, suitably subdued by Ellie’s reminder that she had recently been widowed.
‘What did you make of Evan Roberts, Martha?’
Martha Greenacre placed a hand on Ellie’s arm. ‘I thought him the finest man who ever walked on God’s earth,’ she said with heartfelt sincerity. ‘I would follow him to the ends of the world if that’s what he wished, he’s the most holy person I could hope to meet in this world.’
Daniel drew out his book and began to scan his notes, adding a little it seemed of what Martha had said. He put the cap on his pen and returned it to his pocket. ‘Do you mind if I quote you on that?’ He looked at Martha and she flushed with pleasure.
‘I would be most flattered. Martha L. Greenacre is the name, shall I spell it for you?’
‘That’s all right,’ Daniel smiled. ‘I’m quite familiar with the name, aren’t you from the Uplands, at least your family is?’
Martha’s face warmed. ‘That’s quite right, I was married to a pharmacist, Donald Greenacre, we had a fine big house high up on the hill.’ She sighed, ‘But when Donald died, I found the house was not solely his, it belonged in part to his brother and he made my life quite uncomfortable until I moved out, I can tell you.’
Ellie hid a smile, it was obvious that Daniel hadn’t known what he was letting himself in for when he’d started the conversation. She put her arm around Martha’s shoulder and hugged her. ‘Well some good came out of it all,’ she said encouragingly, ‘you came to me and I’m so glad you did.’
‘I wasn’t sure at first, mind,’ Martha admitted, ‘that awful stink of the tannery, I thought I’d never get used to it but now I hardly notice it at all.’
‘Perhaps later on we’ll move house,’ Ellie said pensively, ‘buy something near the seashore, I’d like that, would you, Martha?’
‘I’d love it,’ Martha said decidedly. ‘But one day you’ll marry again, you won’t want old Martha then.’
Ellie shook her head. ‘No, I won’t get married, I have no intention of tying myself to another man. I’ve learned to be wary of them,’ she glanced quickly at Daniel, ‘present company excepted of course.’