by Iris Gower
Daniel leaned forward and took her hand. ‘You are wise and beautiful, a lovely woman. And before you chastise me again, yes, I know it’s too soon to speak of my feelings to you but they are there, I can’t deny them.’ He sighed and drew away. ‘In any case, there’s something else I wish to talk to you about.’
She looked at him, his face was grave and she knew that he was going to speak to her of something very important to him. ‘Is there a problem, if so, is there anything I can do to help?’ As she waited for him to marshal his thoughts, she was uneasy, wondering if there was anything wrong in his life, he was usually most amiable, a man given to few swings of mood.
‘I am thinking of giving up journalism.’ The words fell into the silence of the bright afternoon. A lone bee droned among the late roses and Ellie felt herself grow tense.
‘Are you going away?’ The thought seemed unbearable, she knew in that instant how much she wanted Daniel at her side.
‘Perhaps. I want to go into the church. I’m not sure yet how to go about it but I shall learn.’
‘Were you influenced so much by Evan Roberts?’
‘I think so and yet I know I don’t want to work, like him, in the non-conformist chapels, I want a living in a proper parish, I want to put down roots, preferably in Swansea. But if my ministry took me away from here would you come with me?’
‘Ask me again, Daniel,’ she said, ‘when the time is right. When the year of mourning for my husband is past, then ask me.’
Perhaps by then, she thought dismally, Daniel would have changed his mind, found someone more suitable, she was hardly the type to be the wife of a cleric, was she?
He gave a huge sigh of relief. ‘I take heart from that. You would be with me all the way, I know, accepting the demands of being a vicar’s wife with grace.’ He paused, ‘Am I asking too much, could you bear being at everyone’s beck and call?’
Ellie flung back her head and laughed, not knowing how lovely she appeared to Daniel as he leaned towards her longing to kiss her white throat. ‘Bless you, don’t you think that’s what I’ve always done here at the tannery? I’ve been the dogsbody, running everywhere trying to do everything at once, after this a life as a vicar’s wife would be peaceful, believe me.’
He took her hand, ‘We are betrothed then?’ he kissed her fingertips. ‘I wish now I’d brought you a ring.’
She shook her head. ‘No, not yet, let me give Jubilee his due respects before anything is made official. This is just between you and me, you do understand that, don’t you Daniel?’
‘All right, Miss Cautious, we are promised to each other but only we will know it, does that suit you?’
‘Come on,’ she said, ‘the sun is going behind the clouds, it’s going to rain again, we’d better go inside.’
‘But in there, I can’t hold your hand, can’t kiss your fingers, can’t sit so close to you, don’t be cruel to me, Ellie.’
‘Behave yourself.’ She rose to her feet and shook the creases from her skirts and looked directly at him. ‘One day we will be man and wife, for now let the thought be enough for both of us.’
Boyo was lying in his bed, stretched out like a starfish, his legs projecting over the sides of his narrow bed. He came awake slowly, someone else was in the room. He sat up quickly, his heart was in his throat. ‘Who is it?’
‘Hush, it’s all right, it’s me, Rosie, don’t make a fuss.’ She crept beneath the blankets and he felt her nakedness against him. Immediately he was roused.
He groaned, ‘You shouldn’t have come here, what about Matthew?’
‘Matthew’s not back yet from town, probably having his fill of pleasure with some wench from one of the taverns. Anyway, boy, don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth, see?’
She took his head and drew it down onto her breasts, he had tasted the full, resilient sweetness and knew he could not resist. She was a witch, she knew what a man liked, her hands worked magic upon him, he wanted to take her, to possess her, he could wait no longer. But she made him wait, she made him learn how to please her and he learned eagerly, knowing that this was simply a preliminary to achieving his own splendid release. And as he touched her intimately, felt her move and moan, grip him tightly, arch herself upwards, waiting for him, he experienced a surge of power that exhilarated him. It was almost daylight before she allowed him to rest and he slept like a child, curved against Rosie’s breast.
It was how Matthew found them. He stood at the end of the bed and stared down coldly at the two of them, his eyes half closed, the gleam in them hinting at retribution to come.
‘Outside,’ he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, ‘I’ll deal with you there.’
‘Mat, he’s only a lad . . .’ Rosie began but Matthew withered her with a look.
‘He’s man enough to bed you and he’s got to learn to be man enough to take his punishment.’
Boyo didn’t protest, it would do no good. He pulled on his trews and then Matthew was leading the way down the stairs and out into the yard.
‘Hey, what’s going on by here then?’ Harry was just putting down his box of grub, his canteen of tea still swung in his hand.
‘Keep out of this.’ Matthew didn’t look at him, his gaze was still fixed on Boyo as though fearing he would run away.
Boyo looked at Matthew’s jutting jaw, his big shoulders and he was afraid.
The first blow sent him reeling to the ground, he shook the stars from his head and tried to see through the blood that was running down from his temple.
‘See boy, everything has to be paid for in this life. Pleasure has it’s price, did Rosie fail to explain that to you?’
Boyo got to his feet, took stock of Matthew and moved in swiftly, catching the bigger man unawares. He landed a blow against Matthew’s stomach, but Matthew was hard and strong, the muscles of his body well-formed and Boyo’s fist made little impact. Matthew pushed him away and his fist caught Boyo’s mouth, splitting his lip. He fell onto a pile of oak bark and the smell of it was in his mouth along with the bitter taste of blood.
‘Come on, Mat,’ Harry was calling, ‘this isn’t a fair fight now is it? Give the boy a chance, we was all in it, egging him on, like, it was only a bit of fun.’
Matthew turned and almost casually hit Harry on the point of the jaw sending him reeling, his head snapped back, his eyes glazed.
‘Luke,’ Matthew’s voice was a warning, as the other man stepped forward, ‘keep out of this, it’s not your battle.’
‘Come on then,’ Boyo spoke defiantly, ‘finish it, what are you waiting for, you don’t need to play with me and we both know it.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Matthew’s voice was filled with scorn, ‘you are not going to be let off that lightly.’ His fist snaked out and caught Boyo in the ribs, he doubled up and before he could get his breath, the next blow sent him flying backwards so that he slammed into the wall of one of the sheds.
Already Boyo’s eye was closing, he could hardly see for the blood that ran down his face. His body ached as though he had been fighting for hours rather than minutes. He was aware of Rosie running across the yard, her skirts flying.
‘I’m going to call Ellie, she’ll settle you.’ She tried to dodge past Matthew but he caught her easily, holding her arm with one hand and slapping her across the face with the other.
She cried out and Boyo, enraged, rushed at Matthew, the force of his body carrying the bigger man to the ground. Boyo for a moment was in charge, he beat at Matthew’s face with his fists, the flurry of blows hitting home, drawing blood.
‘Go on, Boyo!’ Harry was sitting up urging the boy on but even though he continued to hit Matthew’s face, Boyo knew his strength was running out, he would not win in the end. Even as the thought ran into his mind, he felt Matthew thrust him aside and then the big man was on his feet, dragging Boyo upright by his hair. He held him away and took aim, punching mercilessly.
Boyo felt his senses reel, he tried feebly to hit out but there was no p
ower left in his limbs. He was unaware that Matthew continued to hit his senseless body until between them, Harry and Luke, along with one of the casual labourers, managed to wrestle Matthew to the ground.
When Boyo regained consciousness he was lying in the parlour of Ellie’s house. There was the softness of the sofa beneath him and a wet bandage was being held to his face. One eye refused to open at all and with the other, he saw Ellie, her face white, standing near the fireplace, her hands clasped together.
‘I can’t believe what’s happened here,’ she was saying and, turning his head with difficulty, Boyo saw that all the men from the yard including Matthew were standing near the doorway.
‘Such an act of barbarism cannot be overlooked.’ She gestured to where Boyo lay.
‘You could have killed him, Matthew, and for what, what had he ever done to hurt you?’
‘I’ll tell you what the little runt has done,’ Matthew said harshly, ‘he’s bedded my woman, that’s what.’
Boyo felt shame creep through him that was worse than any pain he was suffering. Ellie’s cheeks were suddenly red, she turned away for an instant and then she seemed to compose herself.
‘I can understand your anger but to take it out on a defenceless boy is not the act of a man, now is it?’
‘It’s the only thing he’d understand.’ Matthew was unrepentant. ‘A good hiding never did anyone any harm, teach him not to fish in another man’s pond again won’t it?’
Ellie was silent for a moment. Then she sighed, ‘So Rosie is betrothed to you, is she, you intend to marry her?’
It was a chance she was offering, Boyo saw it, a chance for Matthew to redeem himself, an opportunity for him to salvage some good from a bad situation. But Matthew failed to see the hand of compromise that was stretched towards him.
‘I wouldn’t marry that whore, not if she was the last woman on earth. God only knows how many others she has had between her legs.’ He looked as though he wanted to spit but he contented himself with thrusting his hands into his pockets and drawing out his pipe.
‘So you half killed Boyo on a point of pride not because you were in love with Rosie?’ Ellie’s words were soft and Matthew was too angry to see the danger in them.
‘He could have had her when I’d finished with her and not before.’
Rosie had been dumb until then, crouched against the wall, a stricken look on her face. She stood up straighter at his words, her colour high, the mark of his hand on her face already turning blue. ‘I’m not a thing to be handed from man to man, cast aside like a used coat.’ The words burst from her lips. ‘I wouldn’t stay with an animal like you if you paid me, not after today, I wouldn’t, I could never trust you again, could I?’
‘That’s rich, I find you bedding a boy and you talk about trust. If it wasn’t such an insult to my intelligence I could laugh at what you’ve just said.’
‘I couldn’t trust you not to kill me if the mood took you, that’s what I mean.’ Rosie thrust her chin forward. ‘And if I should go into town, speak to the women who hang around Adelphi, what would I find out about your goings on, I wonder?’
Ellie’s voice broke into the ensuing silence. ‘Stop arguing, I’ve heard enough. I have no other choice but to dismiss you, Matthew, I don’t want to see you around my yards ever again.’
‘You’ve had it in for me ever since old Jubilee died,’ Matthew shouted, ‘wanted shot of me in case I asked for my rights, for my shares in the business. Well you think this is a perfect excuse but you’ll live to regret it, my fine lady.’ His mouth turned up in an unpleasant sneer. ‘I saw you, down on the beach with that reporter, half undressed like a wanton, you are as bad as Rosie, no better than you ought to be. Well you’ll regret the day you sacked Matthew Hewson like a dog.’
He stormed out of the room and the slam of the front door reverberated through the house.
‘Go back to work, men,’ Ellie said, ‘not you, Boyo, we have to talk.’
He struggled to sit up wincing as his very bones seemed to creak. His head hurt and his mouth felt the size of a mule’s backside.
Ellie sat opposite him and leaned forward in her chair. ‘I don’t want to hear any more about why all this happened,’ she began, ‘but I want you to think very carefully about your behaviour. Matthew was wrong to beat you as he did but you were just as wrong in a different way. It’s a hard lesson to learn but at least you’ll understand from now on that it doesn’t do to take what doesn’t belong to you.’
‘I’ve never stolen anything in my life.’ Boyo protested through stiff lips.
‘Well, you have now,’ Ellie said, ‘just think about it. Look, Boyo, you’ll meet a fine girl one day, you’ll fall in love and then you’ll be sorry you didn’t wait for her. I know what I’m talking about, it’s how I feel now about Daniel.’ She sighed and leaned back in her chair, her face in shadow. She was completely unaware of the effect of her words on Boyo, they hurt him more than any of Matthew’s blows.
‘If only I could be young and innocent again, be perfect for him which is what he deserves, I’d be so happy.’
‘It’s different for men, though,’ Boyo said, ‘men want to be in the know, not to look foolish when they . . . they go with the woman they love.’
‘Is it different?’ Ellie challenged him, ‘What about this girl you’ll one day meet, the girl you want to impress with your knowledge, will you expect her to be virtuous?’
‘Of course!’ Boyo’s own indignation showed him more than any words could, just what Ellie had been trying to tell him.
‘You’ll want to be perfect for each other, to be the first with each other, to make the relationship really special,’ she said.
‘I see what you mean,’ Boyo hung his head, ashamed to look at her. ‘You’re right, Ellie.’ He looked up at her then, ‘But any man would be lucky to get you and I mean that.’
‘Thank you, Boyo, I know you do and it makes me feel good. Now, you are not going back to the barn, you are going to sleep here in the back bedroom, I want to make sure you’re all right.’
She rose and as she passed him, Ellie rested her hand on his brow. ‘You’re a good boy, I’ve great hopes of you and I know you won’t disappoint me.’
He was alone then, nursing his bruises. There were tears in his eyes but he wasn’t crying because of his injuries, he would be hard put to know why he was crying but the tears ran salt over his battered face and mingled with the blood drying on his lips.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘What have you been up to this trip?’ Bridie’s voice had a hard edge to it as she looked up from her chair at her husband. He dropped his bag on the floor and, without replying, came over to her, dutifully bending to kiss her cheek.
‘Is that all I’m going to get?’ She narrowed her eyes, ‘I’m your wife, not your maiden aunt, or have you forgotten that?’
‘For the moment,’ Paul said evenly. ‘For now, I want a bath and a change of clothing and then I’m going out on business.’
Bridie felt herself curl into a defensive ball, her hands were clenched together, her shoulders were tense, even her insides seem to tighten in anger. ‘What business might that be?’ she asked.
‘I’m going down to the offices, if you must know.’ He shrugged off his topcoat. ‘I’ve got to take over the reins if you are going to be indoors for ever more.’
Panic filled her, he must not look too closely at the books, the private set of books that she kept locked away. One glance would be enough to tell him the profits from the deep sea trips far exceeded the moderate sums he was making on the coastal and short distance trips.
‘No, please don’t go.’ She looked up at him and held out her hand, it was slim, her fingers long and white, delicate almost. Since her confinement to her bed or at best a chair, she had lost weight. But then, she hardly ate anything and her nervous energy was always at a level she found difficult to control.
He came to her and bent his head, kissing her lips. Bridie felt hers
elf warm to him. ‘Paul, I am grateful to you,’ she said softly, ‘grateful for your care of me. You are always here when I need you most and I won’t forget that.’ It wasn’t true but it didn’t hurt to flatter her husband a little. Paul always took it in, hook line and sinker, she thought scornfully.
He moved to the door. ‘I won’t be long, I’ll be back before you’ve had time to miss me.’ His words were spoken as he left the room giving her no chance to try to coax him into changing his mind.
Bridie bit her lip, what did he want to go to the offices for? It wasn’t as if he’d ever taken any notice of the paperwork before. Or had he? What did she really know about this man, her husband? She looked through the window and cursed her inability to move. She couldn’t see very far, her vision was impeded by the huge plant that spread above the pot, glossy leaves reaching towards the light.
She really must get herself a chair with wheels, she thought with a sudden surge of energy. She would have one especially made, a comfortable chair with room to fit a tray over the arms so that she could work in comfort. She might be a cripple but she still had all her other faculties didn’t she?
There was a diffident tapping on the door and Bridie ignored it at first knowing it would only be one of the servants. The tapping came a little louder and impatiently she called out, ‘Come in for heaven’s sake!’
‘Sorry to disturb you, missus, the master thought you might like some refreshment.’ The maid bobbed anxiously and stood awkwardly near the door.
‘Well I wouldn’t.’ Bridie heard her voice shrew-like and hard. ‘But you can do something useful, you can go to town and get me one of the coopers from the brewery buildings.’
The girl’s eyebrows were raised but she knew better than to ask questions. She bobbed again as she left the room and Bridie was alone in the brooding silence.
Why hadn’t she thought of it before? If she could get herself a chair with wheels, she could get out to the stables. With a specially adapted saddle, she could ride out alone instead of always taking the coach. She would be free, well almost.