by Iris Gower
‘Daniel Bennett should be here any time now, so I hope you will forgive me if I leave you alone,’ Ellie said, ‘but please, make yourself comfortable, Rosie will bring you some refreshment in a minute.’
Daniel was late. He came into the hallway on a breath of cool evening air and handed Rosie his hat and coat. Rosie disappeared and Daniel took Ellie in his arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘last time we talked I acted like a pompous prig, I should have known better.
‘And now I find the tannery razed to the ground, what’s happened here Ellie? Why didn’t you get a message to me? I’d have come at once.’ He didn’t wait for a reply, ‘Have the police found out who was behind it?’
She shook her head. ‘No, not yet, I don’t suppose they ever will either.’ She smiled. ‘Never mind, I feel better now that you are here with me.’
She felt a tingling sensation as he ran his hand lightly over her back and up to her neck, caressing the warmth beneath the thick braid of hair.
‘I don’t think I can wait until I’ve finished my training,’ he spoke softly. ‘There’s nothing to keep you here, now, why don’t we get married right away?’
The door to the kitchen opened and Martha poked her head round it, peering short-sightedly at the couple in the hallway. ‘Aren’t you going to say hello to old Martha then?’ she said with mock anger. Daniel moved forward and kissed Martha on the cheek. ‘Same old grouch,’ he said playfully, ‘haven’t you got a smile for me?’
Martha made a pretence of cuffing Daniel and turned back to the kitchen fire.
‘Where’s Rosie?’ Ellie asked, ‘I’d like her to make sure Caradoc is taken care of.’
‘She’s making sure of that all right, she’s still in there,’ Martha jerked her head towards the parlour. ‘Been in there some time, she has, Caradoc is right taken with the girl and she revels in it.’
Martha drew Daniel towards the chair near the hearth. ‘Should have been here on the night of the fire, flames shooting right up into the sky there were, mind, took the firemen hours to put out the blaze.’
‘I would very much like to know how it started,’ Daniel said grimly.
‘So would we all.’ Martha rose and gathered together her sewing and her glasses, ‘I’m going off to my bed, I think I can trust you two to behave yourselves.’ She left the room quietly and Daniel turned to Ellie.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘About the tannery you mean?’ She stretched her hand across the scrubbed surface of the table and rested her fingers on his. ‘I don’t know, Daniel, I suppose I will have to close it down, there doesn’t seem much point in trying to rebuild. It might be better if I sold up the house and the land as it is.’
Daniel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘It’s a pity to let years of work go to waste, I think it might be well worth thinking about rebuilding.’ He smiled, ‘Though if we get married soon, you won’t be able to work the place yourself.’ He paused, ‘I know I’m being unfair but I’m asking you to become the wife of a poor clergyman.’
‘We won’t be poor, Dan,’ Ellie said gently, ‘you know very well that Jubilee left me more than adequately provided for.’
‘I don’t want you to use your money,’ Daniel said quickly, ‘you keep that in case of a rainy day.’
She was silent for a moment and then she took a deep breath. ‘You’re right, about rebuilding the tannery, it meant a great deal to Jubilee. In any case, I did promise Boyo that he could eventually run the place. Harry and Luke would be grateful to still have a job, as well.’
‘There you are then.’ He looked across at her intently. ‘Now, are you going to answer the question I asked ten minutes ago?’
Ellie smiled at him, her face illuminated with happiness. ‘Do you really want to marry me as soon as possible, Dan are you sure?’ She was silenced by Daniel’s mouth on hers.
It was late by the time Daniel left the house. He was the last to go, Caradoc having departed a little after ten-thirty. Ellie stood in the doorway and watched until he was out of sight and then, she made to close the door on the darkness of the night.
Suddenly, she was forced backward as the door was flung open. A large figure blocked the doorway and Ellie put her hand to her mouth to prevent herself from crying out in fear. ‘Who is it, what do you want?’ Her voice sounded small, shaky and Ellie swallowed hard, trying to summon her courage.
He came into the hall, closing the door behind him and Ellie saw his face for the first time. ‘Matthew, what do you think you are doing here this time of night, are you mad?’
He didn’t answer, he reached out and caught her blouse, pulling at it with rough fingers. The fabric was strong and impatiently, Matthew swore. Ellie backed away from him, frightened by the look on his face.
‘I want to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.’ Matthew caught her and pressed her up against the wall. His hand was lifting her skirts, pushing them aside. His intentions became all too clear.
Ellie opened her mouth to scream but he clamped his hand over her lips. With a quick movement, he pushed her to the floor, pinning her with his weight. ‘So you want to play it rough do you?’ His eyes were fevered, it was clear he had been drinking.
Ellie struggled frantically to free herself, ‘Don’t do this, Matthew, you’ll be sorry, I warn you.’
His hand was rough on her bodice, pulling open the buttons, hurting her with his grip. ‘Ah, what pretty breasts and look at that darling little beauty spot just on your shoulder there let me kiss it.’ His mouth was hot against her bare flesh and Ellie shuddered. ‘Leave me alone, please leave me alone.’
He wasn’t listening, he lifted himself upwards loosening the thick belt at his waist. Ellie, looking beyond Matthew’s shoulder, saw a slim figure loom out of the darkness. She saw the glint of a spade, heard the noise as it came hammering downwards.
Matthew remained poised for a moment as if frozen before falling away from Ellie, blood pouring down his forehead. She put her hand over her mouth as she saw Boyo, his face white, standing over Matthew’s still form. She couldn’t believe so much had happened in the space of a few minutes. She staggered to her feet and as Boyo dropped the spade from his nerveless fingers, she put her arms around him and held him close.
Rosie came rushing down the stairs and into the kitchen, her hair tangled about her face. When she saw the figure on the floor, she gave a small scream, her eyes wide. ‘Is he dead?’ Her voice was muffled. Ellie was too frightened to answer her. It was Martha, coming more slowly into the hallway, who had the presence of mind to bend over Matthew and feel the pulse in his neck.
‘He’ll live,’ she said. ‘I reckon you’d best run and fetch the constable, Rosie.’
Ellie made an effort to gather her wits. ‘Wait, you don’t know what happened here.’
‘I’m not daft,’ Martha said, ‘this villain,’ she looked scornfully at Matthew’s unconscious body, ‘he tried to rape you. Boyo here, he defended you the best way he knew how.’
‘I don’t want the police brought into this,’ Ellie said, ‘I can do without the scandal it will cause.’
Martha appeared doubtful. ‘But look at the state of you, you’re trembling,’ she said.
‘Yes and that’s all I am, shaken. I’m not harmed, my clothing isn’t torn, who’d believe I didn’t lead Matthew on?’
‘What are we to do then?’ Martha was less certain of her ground now, seeing sense in Ellie’s reasoning.
‘Boyo, get one of the horses hitched up to a waggon, we’ll take Matthew into town, leave him somewhere he’ll be found at first light.’
Boyo spoke for the first time, ‘You stay here, Ellie. I know where Matthew lives, I’ll take him there, say I found him unconscious in the street. I doubt he’ll want to tell the truth about what happened here tonight.’
When the cart had rumbled away across the yard towards town, Rosie set to clearing up the mess. A table had been knocked over in the struggle and a lamp tipped onto the floor. Oil was making a
stain across the polished boards.
‘Leave that, Rosie, come along, we’ll sit in the kitchen,’ Ellie said, ‘it should still be warm in there.’ The women sat in silence until, about an hour later, the sound of wagon wheels could be heard outside in the yard.
‘Thank God!’ Ellie whispered, ‘Boyo’s come home.’
He was smiling. ‘All done,’ he said, ‘Dora Griffiths, the lady who owns the boarding house, took in my story hook, line and sinker, seen him drunk before, I expect.’
‘What did you tell her about the bump on his head, how did you explain that?’
‘Didn’t have to,’ Boyo said, ‘she decided herself that he must have fallen and cracked his head on the cobbles. Said I was a good lad for fetching him home. He started to come round then, so I scarpered. I bet he has a thick head and served him right.’
Ellie pushed back her hair, ‘Perhaps I deserve all the grief Matthew’s giving me, I should just have given him the money he asked for in the beginning.’
‘One like him would never be satisfied,’ Martha said quietly. ‘Give him an inch and he’d take a mile, keep coming back for more until he’d bled you dry. He’s the type who never forgets a grudge.’
Ellie shivered, it was as though someone had just walked over her grave.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It hadn’t taken Bridie very long to find just the house she wanted. It was built on a hillside between Clydach and Pontardawe facing the open countryside.
The house was of old stone, mellowed by the years into a pale biscuit colour. The windows were long and numerous, allowing for greater penetration of light into all but the northernmost corners of the building. The ceilings were high, with a delicate tracery of plasterwork reminiscent of icing on a cake. It felt like home and Bridie loved it at once.
‘Do you think we’ll be happy here?’ she took Collins’ hand as they stood in the drawing room, innocent of furniture, the boards bare, the windows uncurtained. Sunlight spilled in from the spacious gardens to the front of the property and on the perimeter of the grounds, trees added a green fringe to the lush, overgrown lawns.
‘I’d be happy with you anywhere, Bridie.’ He still spoke her name shyly and Bridie loved him for it. She smiled at him, wanting him to be as happy as she was.
How she could have overlooked Collins’ qualities when he was simply her butler, she just didn’t know. He was such a warm, caring man, so strong in every way and she had treated him as a mere servant, not even noticing his fine looks and dignified bearing.
‘Will you bring any of your furniture with you from the Swansea house?’ Collins moved closer, his arm encircling her waist as though he wanted to reassure himself that she was a real flesh and blood woman and not a figment of his imagination.
Bridie shook her head emphatically. ‘No, I want to make a clean break. Once Paul comes back to Swansea he can take charge of Carmella and I can sell Sea Mistress. I can rid myself of all the bad memories the place holds for me.’ She looked up at Collins, her eyes pleading. ‘I can make a home for my sons here, you will take to them won’t you, Collins?’
He turned her to face him. ‘They were always good boys and they are part of you, I’ll fall in love with them just as I did with you.’
‘What do you really think of them?’ Bridie brushed a speck of dust from his lapel and Collins smiled at the proprietary attitude Bridie was adopting towards him.
‘Two healthy, noisy little boys, normal as any others.’
Bridie sighed. ‘Paul arranged things so that the boys were never home. Once I left him, he vowed I would lose them, he sent them away to relatives out of sheer spite. Will they blame me for this sorry mess, Collins?’
‘When they come home, they are going to have to adjust to a great many changes, give them time, Bridie, just don’t be too impatient.’
She knew he was right. She moved to the window and stared into the garden. ‘Would you like a child of your own, Collins?’
‘Is this question academic or is there something you’re trying to tell me?’
She laughed. ‘No, I’m not pregnant, I don’t suppose I ever will be again, at least that’s what the doctors told me.’
‘Well, doctors,’ Collins shrugged, ‘they are often wrong aren’t they?’
‘That’s true, if I’d believed them I wouldn’t be standing here on my own two feet, now would I? Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.’
‘I am content, more than content with what I have now,’ he said. ‘God has been good to me, allowing me to have the woman I love, someone I believed was out of my reach. I wouldn’t dream of asking for more.’
‘But,’ Bridie persisted, ‘you would like a son, most men want to have an heir don’t they?’
‘Even if they have nothing to leave?’ Collins’s voice was teasing. ‘Yes, I suppose I would like a son but only if you were his mother. As it is, I have all I want or need right here.’
Bridie closed her eyes as he came close, holding her to him. She listened to his heart beating against hers and breathed in the scent of him. Tears of happiness came to her eyes and she let them run unchecked down her cheeks. She held Collins tightly and they remained standing entwined in each others arms for a long moment before Bridie released her hold.
‘We must make arrangements to have our house cleaned and refurbished ready for us to move into as soon as possible,’ she spoke softly, dreamily, looking around the sun-warmed room and then back to where Collins was standing watching her, his head on one side. It was as if, even now, he could not believe what was happening to him.
‘Come on,’ Bridie said more briskly, ‘we’d better make tracks for Swansea, I have a great many arrangements to make.’
He bowed mockingly, ‘Your carriage awaits, my lady.’
Bridie flipped him playfully across his arm and swept out of the room, her head high, playing the haughty lady. In the carriage, she glanced sideways at Collins, his profile was strong, not really handsome but with a fascinating charm that made her heart melt. Once he would never have sat beside her but would have been up top, in the front of the carriage with the driver, but even then Collins had had an air of being his own man. Now he was her man and she meant to hold on to him.
It was painful walking up to the door of Sea Mistress again, she had been wise to return to Jono’s house in Clydach, Bridie decided. The front door stood open and as Bridie entered the large hall, one of the maids greeted her with relief. ‘Oh, Missus Marchant, I’m so glad to see you! The girl, the Irish lady, she’s been taken bad, it looks as if she’s losing the baby.’
Bridie turned to Collins and he nodded, knowing what was needed without being told. ‘I’ll fetch the doctor at once.’
Carmella was in bed, gowned in voluminous white night attire, her young face a mask of pain.
‘It’s going to be all right,’ Bridie said softly, ‘it’s going to be just fine, I promise you, the doctor is on his way.’
‘I want Paul, why isn’t he here? I want my mother, I want a priest, Oh God help me!’ Carmella’s voice was thin with fear, she clutched at Bridie’s hands, ‘I’m hurting so much, I think I’m going to die without being absolved of my sin.’
‘You are not going to die,’ Bridie said firmly.
Carmella clutched at her stomach, her face contorted in anguish, she held on tightly to Bridie’s hand as though afraid she would be left alone. Bridie felt a sudden pity for the girl and an anger against Paul for landing them all in this mess.
It was a relief when the doctor, a young man, new to the district, entered the room breathing confidence as he came. ‘Dr Squires, at your service.’ He bowed to Bridie, ‘Let’s have a look at the little lady then.’
Carmella shrank against the pillows, shaking her head from side to side. ‘No, not a man,’ she gasped, ‘I can’t let a man touch me, it’s not right.’
‘Carmella, this man is a doctor, it’s his job to help women in labour, don’t be silly.’
But Carmella was adaman
t, she pushed the doctor, her eyes wide with terror and after a moment he moved away from her shrugging his shoulders. ‘No point in upsetting her further, she’s almost hysterical as it is. Bring in a midwife, there’s a good nurse lives only half an hour away by carriage, send your man to fetch her, there’s nothing I can do here.’ He sounded regretful, thinking possibly of the fat fee he’d been anticipating.
‘You will be paid for your time and trouble,’ Bridie said ushering him from the room, ‘just send me your bill.’
Dr Squires left the house with the same jaunty step as he’d entered, it looked as if he was coming out of the bargain very well, no effort had been required on his part and yet he was being paid for his time, quite a good evening’s work.
Carmella’s ordeal was a long one. She was lying inert on the bed, looking near to death when at last, she miscarried of her child. The nurse looked down at Carmella and shook her head. ‘Poor little mite, not cut out for this malarkey is she?’ Her gaze moved to Bridie.
‘You are small, madam, if you will pardon me saying so, but you have good hips, built for carrying. Two sons you’ve got, I understand? Well it will be a girl next, mark my words.’
Bridie bowed her head as a feeling of regret washed over her for what could never be. She coughed to hide the rush of emotion but the nurse was busy tidying up, washing her hands, rolling down her sleeves. She had not noticed the effect her words had upon Bridie.
‘I’ll call tomorrow, see how the little lady is doing. Once she recovers,’ she nodded to the figure in the bed, ‘she’ll be as right as she’s ever been.’
Bridie saw the midwife to the door, she wondered if she should leave Carmella to rest, but the girl’s voice called to her thinly from the bed.
‘I want to go home to Ireland,’ Carmella said pleadingly, ‘say you’ll arrange it for me.’
‘If that’s what you want then I’ll see to it as soon as you are up and about.’
Carmella fell back exhausted, beneath her eyes were blue shadows, she looked pinched and ill and Bridie felt pity drag at her. Why was it that everyone Paul touched, he hurt?