Sea Mistress

by Iris Gower

  ‘Of course.’ Daniel smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it, I’ve a long way to go yet, I plan to make a fine career out of the newspaper business. When I do, I’ll be in a position to take a wife.’ His meaning was clear and Ellie sighed, she had not, as she hoped deterred him from thinking of her romantically, she had merely afforded him some hope that she would be waiting for him.

  ‘Ah, here we are, almost home, come along Martha, I want to get changed into my working clothes, do some cleaning in the house, it’s like a tip in there.’

  ‘When are you going to get a housemaid?’ Daniel sounded concerned. ‘It’s not right you should work on such menial tasks as cleaning out the fire grate and washing clothes, it’s not fitting for a well brought up lady like you.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I keep telling her,’ Martha said looking approvingly at Daniel.

  ‘All right, I will put an advertisement in The Times,’ Ellie said, knowing she would have no peace until she did.

  ‘Perhaps you’ll allow me to do that for you?’ Daniel suggested. ‘Tell me what your requirements are and I’ll scribble it down here.’

  ‘There now,’ Martha’s tone held an unmistakable degree of satisfaction, ‘you can’t get out of it any longer, let the dear young man handle it for you, Ellie, he knows how to frame such an advertisement, I’m sure.’

  ‘Thank you, Daniel,’ Ellie gave in, ‘it would be very kind of you. Have the bill sent to Glyn Hir, of course.’

  Daniel allowed his hand to rest above her gloved fingers for a moment. ‘Don’t you worry about a thing, it will be my pleasure to attend to it for you.’

  He was almost like a young puppy in his displays of willingness and Ellie found it rather endearing. She was relieved when he turned and raised his hat in farewell and strode away in the direction of the offices of The Times. Martha coughed, Ellie turned to look at her questioningly.

  ‘He’s a very kind young man that Mr Bennett. I’m pleased you are taking his advice to get in a maid to help you with the rough work.’ She paused for breath. ‘Believe me, I’m not urging you to be a spendthrift, far from it. You miss having enough funds of your own, I can tell you that from experience. I only wish I’d been more careful with my income while my husband was alive.’

  Ellie took her arm. ‘Well you’re all right now, you coming to live at Glyn Hir has been the making of me, I feel much better able to cope with the men now you are there to keep them in order.’

  Martha sniffed. ‘There’s only one needs slapping down and that’s Matthew Hewson, bad lot, him, seen his sort before, motivated by sheer greed, his is, mind.’ Her eyes sparkled for a moment with humour. ‘He would quite like having you along with the Glyn Hir profits, I dare say but failing that, he’ll settle for the money. Watch him, Ellie, that’s all I’m saying.’

  ‘I know, you’ve no need to warn me.’ Ellie looked with fresh eyes at the blue sky above the hills of Kilvey and the Town Hill. The valley formed between them ran into mostly flat lands with crowded streets filled with elegant stores side by side with tiny shops whose goods hung in doorways and sprawled onto the pavements. Towards the edge of town, small houses crouched close together, fringed by the five mile curve of the sand dunes rising above the waters of the bay. Beyond the hills to the east hung the smoke from the industries crowding the banks of the river Tawe, blotting out that section of the summer sky with green smoke. Ellie was so used to it, the beauty and the ugliness of Swansea, that it was only at times like this she really saw it.

  ‘Duw I can smell it already, can you, Ellie?’ Martha’s wrinkled nose confirmed that they were drawing near to the tanneries. Ellie could see the walls of old stone that shielded the yards from view but did little to contain the stink of leather freshly taken from the animal.

  ‘Why does my heart sink?’ She spoke without thinking and quickly, lest she should seem ungrateful to her dead husband, qualified her statement. ‘Well, my heart doesn’t sink, not exactly but I do feel as though I’m coming back after a pleasant outing to work I would rather not do.’

  ‘Don’t do it then.’ Martha looked her straight in the eye as Ellie paused at the gates to Glyn Hir. ‘Nothing your husband said in his last wishes indicated you should continue to work here, did it?’

  ‘No, I suppose not. Jubilee did want me to live here, to keep an eye on the tannery but I suppose I don’t really need to go to work in the grinding house any more.’

  ‘Well then?’

  ‘Well, I suppose it’s what you said earlier, I don’t want to squander Jubilee’s hard earned profits.’

  ‘It’s not squandering if you delegate the tasks to one more fitted to do them, another boy perhaps or even a young girl if you like. Why not think about it?’

  Ellie smiled, the frown of worry on her brow fading. ‘I promise I’ll think about it but remember, I’ve already come a long way, I’ve got you and now it seems I’m going to have a housemaid too, that will do for a start.’

  It was almost two weeks later when Ellie sat in the kitchen and began to sift through the letters she had received as a result of the advertisement in The Times. Some could be discarded at once, the applicants were either too old or too young, in Ellie’s judgement. Finally, she was left with a choice of two suitable candidates, one was from a Rosemary Prosser of the Sandfields area of the town and the other from April Thomas of Honey’s Farm up on the hill.

  Both letters were well written with neat handwriting and couched in just the right terms and Ellie found it difficult to choose between them except that at fifteen, she thought April too young for the job.

  A knock on the door startled her and she looked up to see Matthew framed in the doorway.

  ‘Could I have a word, Ellie?’ For once he sounded respectful and hope blossomed that he was not going to harp on about the shares again.

  ‘You’re looking for a girl to take on a cleaning job here?’ he asked without further preamble. Ellie nodded wondering why Matthew could possibly be interested in who she chose to help her in the house.

  ‘Could I just ask you a favour, to give the job to a friend of mine? Rosie Prosser, I can vouch for her honesty, Ellie.’

  For once his arrogance was missing and Ellie looked at him sharply wondering if this Rosie was his young lady. If so, it would serve to keep him in check if she was around the house all the time.

  ‘I’ll certainly think about it.’ Ellie smiled. ‘I see she’s willing to live in, you would be seeing a great deal of her, is that what you want?’

  Matthew smiled. ‘Rosie’s a pretty girl, she would brighten the place up. She’s experienced too, been cleaning the offices down near the docks she has, and that Bridie Marchant is a real stickler.’ He was giving nothing away about his own feelings for the girl. Ellie paused for a moment, this Rosemary was probably the most suitable applicant of the two when she thought about it.

  April Thomas had been adopted by Fon O’Conner and would have a good living up on the farm. It was possible she was merely making the application out of a sense of bravado, of wanting to be independent, in which case she might not last very long in the job. And if this Rosie turned out to be Matthew’s lady friend, her presence would solve a lot of problems. She made up her mind.

  ‘Right, if she meets my requirements at the interview, she shall have the job,’ she smiled. ‘I’ll write to her at once.’

  ‘That’s good then,’ Matthew said. ‘Have you thought any more about those shares Jubilee promised?’

  Ellie hesitated and Matthew pressed home his advantage. ‘I know there’s nothing I can do in law, no papers had been signed and all that but you know and I know what Jubilee wanted, don’t we?’ He was speaking reasonably without his usual air of aggression.

  Ellie nodded slowly, morally Matthew was within his rights to insist on having the shares. ‘I am giving it some thought, it’s just that I’m still in a muddle as yet, there’s so much to sort out, so many matters to attend to.’ She looked up at Matthew, ‘You know Jubilee did everythin
g himself, I have to learn from scratch how the business is run.’

  ‘But don’t you see what a help I could be to you, Ellie?’ He spoke earnestly, ‘I could at least take some of the burden off your shoulders.’

  ‘You’re doing that already,’ Ellie said and Matthew lifted his hands in exasperation.

  ‘I’m doing the work, taking the responsibility but not reaping the rewards, is that what you call fair play Ellie?’

  ‘No. I will try my best to get something done soon, it’s a promise.’ She rose to her feet and moved towards Matthew hoping to edge him from the room, he stood his ground.

  ‘I’m counting on you, Ellie,’ he said, ‘to see that Jubilee’s last wishes are carried out to the letter.’

  That touched her on the raw. ‘I know what my husband’s last wishes were better than anyone, even you, Matthew.’ Her tone was sharp. ‘Please, go, leave me alone, can’t you even allow me time to mourn?’

  He rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry.’ He sounded sincere. ‘I’m a thoughtless lout, of course I’ll be patient, I know you’ll do what’s right.’

  She was relieved when he turned and left the kitchen, disappearing along the path towards the yards. She sank into a chair, she couldn’t blame him for wanting what was rightfully his she supposed, and perhaps with the added resources the shares would bring he would find himself in a position to get married. That would take a great burden from her mind, somehow Matthew’s presence posed a threat. Not that she believed him capable of violence, it was just she continually felt the need to fend off his advances.

  Ellie took to Rosemary Prosser on sight. She was about nineteen years old, well-built and with a healthy complexion that spoke of a life lived out of doors. Ellie looked down at Rosemary’s letter to remind herself of the girl’s background.

  ‘I see you’ve been working near the docks, cleaning the offices for the shipping agents wasn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right, miss, liked it too, better than being the daughter of a farm labourer, believe me.’

  ‘You think you could stand the smell of the tannery Rosemary? It’s not very pleasant but you do get used to it.’

  ‘Duw,’ that’s nothing, you ought to catch a stink of the fuel works of a morning, it’s enough to put you off your grub.’

  ‘And you think you’d be happy here, cleaning and perhaps doing some cooking?’

  Rosemary smiled, ‘I love cooking, that’s what I’m best at, mind. I do a fine beef stew with dumplings as well as making the best apple tart for miles around.’

  Ellie concealed her amusement, Rosemary was no shrinking violet, certainly not a girl to hide her light under a bushel. ‘I’m paying what I understand is the usual rate as well as your bed and board, will that suit you?’

  ‘Suit me fine, miss, and please call me Rosie, everyone else does and I’m used to it, like.’

  ‘When can you start, Rosie?’ Ellie warmed to the girl’s friendly nature, ‘I’m sure we’ll get on very well.’

  ‘I can fetch my things up in the morning, miss, will that be all right?’

  ‘That will be just fine.’ Ellie rose to her feet, ‘I’ll show you your room. If I’m not here when you arrive, just settle in, make yourself at home.’

  ‘Duw, a room of my own, I can’t believe it. At home I sleep with my two sisters in the same bed, little pests they are as well wriggling all night, having nightmares. Don’t think I’ll ever have kids, they’re too much trouble.’

  Ellie led the way up the stairs aware of the shabbiness of the carpet. Rosie appeared not to notice, she was too busy admiring the large landing and the big, stained-glass window at the top of the staircase.

  ‘Just here, along the passage,’ Ellie said, ‘Martha, Mrs Greenacre, is in the room next to you. You’ll meet her tomorrow, I think you two will like each other.’

  ‘I’m easy enough to get on with,’ Rosie said, ‘not many as don’t like Rosie Prosser, especially Mat Hewson, I’m his girl.’

  Ellie was pleased to hear it, the girl might just keep Matthew in line. Rosie generated a feeling of dependability and good humour, she would be good to have around.

  ‘This is a lovely room.’ Rosie stood in the centre of the floor looking around her. The large window facing south spilled sunlight across the worn carpet, warming the faded quilt on the bed and lending it a sense of colour.

  ‘The furniture is good,’ Ellie said, ‘it could all do with a bit of beeswax and a great deal of elbow-grease I’m afraid.’

  ‘I’ll get it up a treat, don’t you worry about that.’ Rosie placed a hand on each hip and her breasts strained against the bodice of her blouse. A dark strand of hair had escaped from the restraining pins and hung down over one rounded cheek. Ellie could see why Matthew would be attracted to such a girl, she exuded a wholesomeness that was most appealing.

  ‘Right, then you’ll start tomorrow, it’s agreed.’ Ellie led the way from the room and saw Rosie glance back almost longingly.

  ‘I’m going to work my fingers to the bone here mind, this is just the sort of job I’ve been dreaming about.’

  Ellie smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re pleased. Hopefully over the next few months we’ll be able to buy new curtains and carpets, brighten the place up a bit.’

  ‘Well, it’s like a palace to me after the little house my dad rents. Talk about cramped, couldn’t swing a cat in there, see, not even a little one.’

  Ellie let her out through the front door and watched as Rosie walked along the path, the sun glinting on her hair, her full hips swinging as though in time to some unheard music.

  Boyo was just coming up towards the house, ready no doubt for his midday grub and he stopped, open-mouthed looking as if he’d seen a vision.

  Ellie paused in the doorway as Rosie stopped and conversed with the boy who stood tall and thin as a willow in contrast to the girl’s rounded figure.

  Boyo’s face had turned a fiery red, he shuffled his feet and looked down at them in what appeared to be an agony of embarrassment. Rosie laughed, tossing back her head before lightly tapping Boyo’s cheek with her finger. Then she was away, swinging toward the roadway, her long skirt flaring behind her.

  Ellie turned from the doorway wondering for the first time if she had not been a little hasty in employing Rosie. If her effect on Boyo was anything to go by, she would be setting the men in the yards back on their heels with desire.

  Ah well, hopefully she would be married to Matthew before too long. Perhaps quite soon if Ellie arranged the transfer of some shares into Matthew’s name. With Matthew safely married, it would be better for everyone.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Paul Marchant sat with Richard Charlesworth in the bar of Murphy’s guest house, ‘Suspicious woman, my wife, I hope she doesn’t see fit to visit again. Yes, very suspicious.’

  ‘Not without cause.’ Richard raised an eyebrow quizzically. ‘Very nearly got caught out then and not only with your little paramour. Thank your lucky stars your wife didn’t enquire too deeply into the sale of the horse-collars or she would have been onto your little scheme.’

  Paul laughed. ‘My wife is only interested in one thing, my fidelity. The worst she could have discovered was my dalliance with little Carmella, she wasn’t looking for anything else. She is just too stupid to realize that the affair, if you can call it that, is simply a side issue; I have bigger fish to fry.’

  Paul subsided in his chair, his eyes narrowed. Bridie thought she was so clever, thought she was manipulating the loads to her own advantage, sending him on the short runs. What she didn’t know was that he was well aware of her activities and went along with her plans because they made it easier for him to feather his own nest. His ‘little scheme’ as Charlesworth called it, was insurance against the rainy days that would surely come if Bridie continued to be so suspicious of him.

  In Ireland, he was free to meet his accomplices in the knowledge that the Irish government was traditionally lenient with smugglers. Those whom Paul call
ed business partners could come from foreign countries into Ireland with ease, buying the contraband cargos freely. Cork was a fine meeting place, a place which saw ships travel to every part of the high seas.

  ‘I’ll have to be more careful for a time but only in the matters of the heart,’ he smiled dryly. ‘I’m not ready for an open split with my wife, not until I am a very rich man.’

  ‘I should think not,’ Richard looked knowing, ‘your method of exporting opium without paying the very high duty involved has proved singularly profitable.’

  ‘I sometimes wonder if I’m allowing you to know too much about my affairs, my dear chap.’ Paul’s voice revealed his irritation and it was not lost on Charlesworth.

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ he said, ‘meeting your wife for the first time didn’t exactly make me feel obligated to her in any way.’

  ‘Imperious, was she?’ Paul’s voice held an edge of admiration. There were some things about Bridie that he rather liked, one of them was the regal air she could adopt whenever she chose.

  ‘You could say that.’ Richard was wise enough not to offer too forceful a criticism of his boss’s wife. ‘Fine handsome woman though.’

  Yes, on reflection, she was. Bridie had changed over the last few years, had grown more positive and with her new air of assertiveness had come a sort of bloom. Her hair was thick and lustrous, darkly red, emphasizing her creamy skin. And no-one could deny she was a fine mother to his sons. He would be a fool, he decided, to openly cross Bridie at this point in his life.

  He was quite confident that Bridie had no idea about his double-dealings either in business or in his private life. When she had accused him of having another woman, she had imagined he was bedding Ellie Hopkins, a rich and beautiful widow. Indeed, he would have grasped the opportunity had it arisen but Paul knew women, he could read them well, and Ellie was not a woman to be trifled with.

  He sighed and picked up his ale, he was quite content to have Carmella as his little bedmate. She was sweet and young and until he’d come along she had been an innocent. He’d soon taught her the joys of the flesh which she had taken to with a gusto surprising in a good Catholic girl. But then she had Ma Murphy for a mother.