Sea Mistress

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Sea Mistress Page 38

by Iris Gower


  ‘Let me treat you to another drink, old man,’ Mac said smoothly, ‘it seems to me there’s a lot you would like to get off your chest.’

  Later, as Mac walked along the quiet roadways towards home, he was smiling his slow, triumphant smile; a smile which Arian would have recognized as a sign of Mac’s satisfaction of a job well done.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  ‘So what have you found out?’ Arian was sitting at her desk staring up at Mac in anticipation. She could read him well, he was obviously pleased with himself. He stood, shuffling a sheaf of papers in his hands, his hat tilted back on his head, the usual cigar between his lips. He took off his hat and seated himself opposite Arian, she waited, hearing the muted sounds of activity from the large office beyond her door. ‘Mac, you are a devious old thing, we both know that. Now will you please talk to me?’

  ‘Marchant has been trading in opium which we knew. Mrs Marchant, it seems, managed to swap the loads so that the Marie Clare carried only legitimate cargo on Marchant’s last trip. She held back the contraband until her husband agreed to her demands.’

  ‘I see. Very clever of her, so that’s how Bridie got her inheritance back?’

  ‘Quite. In order to have the opium returned to him Marchant was forced to sign all his assets over to her.’ Mac paused to light a cigar. ‘Marchant is probably being held prisoner by his contact, he might even be dead. Hewson was involved but only in a small way. He was given his marching orders, Marchant was not so lucky.’

  ‘Should we inform the authorities?’ Arian asked hesitantly. Mac rose to his feet and placed his hat on his head. ‘It’s the only thing we can do. We could print, of course but there is no real proof that Hewson is speaking the truth. If he is and the story breaks, it could be Marchant’s death knell.’ He sighed. ‘I’m off home, this is one problem only you can tackle. See you tomorrow.’

  When Mac left the office Arian rubbed at her eyes wearily. She felt jaded and uncertain. Where was her enthusiasm for a story, why was she not prepared to take the matter to the limits, print the story and damn the consequences? Was it that the paper was no longer enough for her? She had believed it to be her whole life, she had even told Calvin so, or as good as. And yet without him she felt empty and hopeless. She was missing Calvin more than she had believed possible, she might as well admit it to herself if not to anyone else.

  She rose impatiently and moved to the door, she had work to do. Bridie must be consulted, she must be told about her husband’s predicament, given an opportunity to decide the best course of action.

  Arian paused at the door of her office and squared her shoulders, she must face the crowded outer office with an air of calm composure. She was determined that to the world she would appear confident, in charge. She opened the door and stepped out into the noise and bustle and the smell of ink that was the life blood of The Swansea Times.

  ‘So the story of your past has had to wait then?’ April picked a blade of grass and chewed at it thoughtfully. She looked at Boyo’s downcast face and admitted to herself that secretly she was relieved that the day of judgement, as she had come to think of it, had been postponed. Well, I can understand why, Ellie was troubled, worried about her marriage. She will find out something as soon as she can, I know she will.’

  ‘Look, Boyo,’ April spoke softly, ‘it doesn’t matter to me who your parents are, I love you for yourself.’ She blushed as she spoke and Boyo’s face softened.

  ‘I know that and I’m proud of you.’ He shrugged, ‘But I have to know, I just have to know who I really am.’

  ‘I realize it’s no fun to be an orphan, Boyo, I’ve felt many times that I’m imposing on the O’Conners. Good as Fon and Jamie are to me, I’m not really one of them, it hurts sometimes.’

  Boyo put his arm around her. ‘But you have a name of your own even if you don’t choose to use it. You are a Thomas, you know who your mam was and you still have a brother living somewhere. I’m out in limbo, I can’t seem to settle until I have an identity of my own.’

  April changed the subject. ‘Have you heard the gossip that’s going round about Mrs Marchant? Her husband missing and her living with a servant up in Clydach, or so they say. What do you make of that, isn’t it a come down for a rich lady?’

  Boyo shrugged, Well what’s important is she doesn’t think like that. Live and let live, I say.’ He bent and kissed April’s nose.

  April drew away from him unwilling to let the subject drop. ‘Mrs Marchant was born rich, those sort seem to be able to do just what they like and get away with it, they flout the law in any way they choose.’

  ‘Do you know much about it then?’ Boyo asked and April shook back a curl that had come loose from the ribbons. ‘The law, I mean.’ His tone was teasing.

  ‘I read as much as I can about it, I suppose I could become more interested if I was given the chance.’

  ‘Why not take it up seriously then?’ Boyo asked, ‘I mean why not do as Fon suggests and go to college?’

  ‘Don’t you start that,’ April said. ‘If I left Swansea, you’d have forgotten all about me by the time I came back. In any case, all I want now is to be your wife.’

  ‘What, Mrs Boyo?’ he laughed. ‘See, I really will have to find out who my parents were, won’t I?’

  April rose to her feet and brushed the leaves from her skirt. She looked down across the town to where the sea curved against sands, pale gold in the late autumn sunshine. Suddenly she felt sad, it was the last glimmering of an Indian summer, it had been such a beautiful summer. She had fallen in love, found a soulmate, someone who loved her back. Now, it seemed it was over, all gone like the leaves that had fallen leaving the trees bare.

  She shivered and turning to Boyo buried her head in his shoulder. ‘We will be together for always, won’t we?’ Her voice was muffled so that he had to put his head close to hers to hear what she was saying. She breathed in the clean scent of him and suddenly, she was afraid.

  ‘Come on, you’re shivering, I’m going to take you home,’ Boyo whispered against her hair. ‘I don’t want my best girl catching a chill, do I?’

  As they walked, hand in hand across the fields of Honey’s Farm, April knew that she must enjoy every moment she had with Boyo. She hoped that soon he would learn who his parents were so there would be no barriers between them. Suddenly it seemed urgent as though time was slipping away from them.

  But that was absurd, they were both so young, so healthy, so full of love and life. And yet the feeling persisted even as Boyo held her in his arms and kissed her and told her he would always love her.

  At Glyn Hir the building work was finished. A fresh stack of oak-bark plates stood in the yard and the distinctive smell of soaking leather permeated the air.

  Ellie, standing outside in the garden, smiled, it seemed Boyo had taken her at her word, got on with the job and started production immediately. Some of the old leather had been salvaged from the fire but that would soon be used up. It would take three years before the new leather would be ready to sell and until then, she would need to buy in stocks from another tannery simply to keep her regular customers supplied. There would be little profit in it but there was the goodwill of the people with whom she did business to consider.

  She went indoors, looked around at the big rambling house that had been her home for five years and knew the time had come to move out. As soon as she could, she would rent a place near the sea until Dan had finished college and then she would go with him to wherever his job led him.

  She heard sounds from the kitchen, heard the rise and fall of voices and knew exactly where she would find Martha and Rosie. A cheerful fire roared in the grate and Ellie made straight for it, holding her hands out to the blaze. She looked up to see Rosie and Martha watching her.

  ‘Soon, ladies, I’m going to start looking for somewhere to live,’ she said quietly. ‘I can’t stay here for ever more, can I?’

  ‘I couldn’t bear to be parted from you now,’ Martha said q
uickly. ‘Duw, what would I do on my own?’

  Rosie sighed. ‘I don’t know how long it will be before I get married but until then, I’ll gladly work for you, wherever you go.’

  Martha looked round her, ‘What will you do with this place, Ellie, will you sell it?’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘I’ll let Boyo live here for as long as he wants to, he’s going to be in charge of the tannery anyway so he might as well be on the spot.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, Ellie, very thoughtful, I know Boyo has been working like a Trojan here, getting the place shipshape again.’ Martha patted her skirts as though Boyo’s head was resting in her lap. ‘Harry and Luke are back in work too, they haven’t deserted us for another job. Good men you have there, mind.’

  ‘I know,’ Ellie looked at Rosie. ‘Bring my coat, there’s a love.’

  ‘Going out again?’ Martha asked, her eyebrows raised.

  ‘Afraid so, I have to see Bernard Telforth on business.’

  ‘There’s mysterious,’ Martha said, ‘are you going to tell us about it?

  ‘You’ll know, all in good time.’ Ellie took her coat from Rosie. ‘I won’t be long, keep the fire going in the parlour, it gets so chilly in the evenings.’

  Later, as she entered the lobby of Mr Telforth’s offices, Ellie wondered what she would learn from him. The old man welcomed her warmly, ‘Sit down, my dear, I hope you are keeping well?’

  She took the seat he indicated and leaned forward, her hands clasped together. ‘I need to discuss something with you, Mr Telforth, I’m not sure if you can help or not.’

  He looked at her strangely. ‘I think I know what this is about,’ he took a file of papers from his drawer, ‘it’s Boyo, isn’t it, you want to know his real name?’

  ‘How did you know?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘It was bound to come up sooner or later. Once the boy started asking questions, you would be the first to offer help.’ He flipped open the file and glanced down at the information inside. ‘Hopkins, that’s his name.’

  ‘Hopkins?’ Ellie said, her throat suddenly dry, ‘how can that be?’

  ‘Patience, my dear.’ Bernard Telforth looked at her over his glasses. ‘You’ll have to prepare yourself for a shock.’ He paused and then, as though encouraged by her silence, he continued. ‘Jubilee had an affair, a very brief affair many years ago before his unfortunate sickness. The woman left town and in due course gave birth to Jubilee’s daughter.’ He took a deep breath. ‘The woman contacted me and though I recognized her, I chose to discount her story, she died shortly afterwards.’ He looked at Ellie as though trying to assess her feelings. ‘Her daughter, Marian, lived for a long time in Cardiff with an aunt who knew nothing about the child’s father.’

  ‘But how . . . ?’ Ellie broke off mid-sentence as Mr Telforth held up his hand.

  ‘History has a way of repeating itself, the daughter Marian, in the fullness of time also bore an illegitimate child – the one we know as Boyo.’

  ‘I still don’t understand,’ Ellie said, ‘I can’t believe Jubilee would have left any kin of his to be brought up in a workhouse.’

  ‘Jubilee knew nothing about it.’ Bernard shut the file. ‘Boyo was transferred to Swansea from Cardiff when he was a few years old.’

  ‘Then how did he come to be working with Jubilee at Glyn Hir?’

  ‘Jubilee wanted to give an orphan a home, I was sent to the workhouse to sort out the legalities of the matter. I saw the documentation concerning the boy’s forebears, I put two and two together.’

  ‘And Jubilee never knew the connection between Boyo and himself, never knew he had a grandson?’

  ‘In my wisdom, I thought it best not to tell him,’ Bernard Telforth shrugged. ‘Who knows what might have happened, the boy’s relatives might have turned up and claimed all Jubilee had worked for. The background was not reassuring, there could have been instability, mental illness, something in the child’s blood, I couldn’t take a chance.’

  ‘So why are you telling me all this now?’ Ellie asked in a strained voice. ‘I feel such a fraud, as if I’ve taken everything that belongs rightly to Boyo.’

  ‘I am old, I can no longer make decisions with the confidence, or arrogance I had in my youth so, my dear lady, I entrust this burden of truth to you.’

  He handed her the file. ‘In my capacity as your solicitor, I suggest you make an allowance to the boy, I think he deserves that much.’ He shrugged. ‘But as I said, it’s up to you now.’

  Ellie left the offices in a daze. So much had happened in the last few days, so many upheavals, she felt she could scarcely cope with this fresh revelation about Boyo’s birthright.

  She wandered towards the beach, the salt tangy air filled her nostrils and she breathed deeply trying to be calm. She settled herself on a spar staring out to sea. What should she do? Boyo was the rightful owner of Glyn Hir, should she sign it all over to him?

  Daniel; she thought in anguish, if only you were here now. She looked up at the clouds scudding across the skies, winter was creeping upon the town, the nights would lengthen and she would be alone. ‘Daniel, I need you!’ Her voice was carried away by the cold wind and the wash of the ocean. Only the distant screech of the sea birds could be heard above the noise of the gathering storm.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  With winter came the worst sickness Swansea had seen in a long time. Influenza of a most virulent kind was sweeping through the huddled streets of the town touching almost every household with terrible results. There seemed little the doctors could do to contain the illness; the hospitals were full, funerals were an everyday occurrence and the shops were eerily empty. Even the maids from the big houses, shopping in the market place, had ceased to haggle over prices and did their business as swiftly as possible before hurrying away from the silent streets.

  ‘Good thing we don’t live any closer to the town.’ Martha, as usual, was busy sewing, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. ‘Lucky we hadn’t yet found a house to rent, the tannery might be smelly but at least we’re out of danger up here.’

  Ellie raised her eyebrows but kept her doubts to herself, the sickness, she knew, could be carried in by any one of a dozen means. There were deliveries to be made both to and from the tannery, Rosie needed occasionally to go into town for supplies; contact with people who might be infected was inevitable. The tradesmen, those who were not stricken, still called to the door of Glyn Hir and as for Harry and Luke, goodness only knows where they spent their evenings, most likely in the crowded smoky rooms of one of the public houses of the area. Still, if it comforted Martha to think them safely away from danger, then so be it.

  Ellie stared into the fire, deep in thought and after a long silence, Martha spoke again. ‘What’s eating you, Ellie, not worrying about that husband of yours, are you? He’s young and fit and what’s more he’s all the way down in Lampeter, I doubt if they have even heard of the influenza there.’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘It’s not Dan I’m worried about, it’s Boyo. My conscience is troubling me, I feel I’m failing in my duty towards him. I’ll have to talk to him and soon, tell him what I’ve found out about him but somehow I can’t bring myself to find the right words.’

  Want to confide in me or is this too private a matter?’ Martha put down her sewing and gave Ellie her full attention.

  Ellie debated for a moment and then decided she could do with Martha’s commonsense approach to the problem of Boyo’s ancestry. ‘When I went to see Bernard Telforth a few weeks ago, it was about Boyo.’ She paused, biting her lip, she had not even been given the opportunity of talking all this over with Dan yet, still, she could hardly stop now, Martha’s eyes were alight with anticipation. ‘Boyo wanted to learn about his background,’ she continued, ‘that’s natural enough, especially now he’s walking out with April O’Conner.’

  ‘And?’ Martha urged, ‘did you learn anything interesting?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Ellie smiled dryly. ‘Very interest
ing. Boyo is Jubilee’s grandson.’

  ‘What?’ Martha leaned forward in her chair. ‘How can that be, I thought Jubilee was barren?’

  ‘I know,’ Ellie nodded, ‘so did I and so did he. Apparently he had one brief love affair. It all happened a long time ago, well before he had the sickness. To cut a long story short, Boyo is Jubilee’s next of kin, for all I know, his only kin.’

  Martha looked at her in silence for a long moment. ‘I can read you like a book,’ she said, ‘now you feel guilty because you have inherited all of Jubilee’s money. Well the solution is simple, share it with Boyo.’

  Ellie looked across at her. ‘I feel he deserves it all,’ she said softly. ‘The whole estate, the tannery, the money, it does, by right, belong to Boyo.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Martha rose to her feet and brushed down her skirts, ‘That’s nonsense! You were Jubilee’s legal wife, you would naturally be looked after however many children Jubilee had.’

  ‘But would he have bothered to marry me if he’d known he had a grandson?’ Ellie said in a small voice. ‘That’s what I keep asking myself.’

  ‘Look, all anyone would expect of you is that you give Boyo a decent share of Jubilee’s money. Some people wouldn’t even do that much, believe me.’

  Ellie sighed heavily. ‘I know you are right, I only wish Dan was here so that I could talk to him about it, he’s so wise.’

  ‘And you haven’t told Boyo any of this?’

  ‘No, first I want to be sure in my mind what I’m going to do with the estate.’

  ‘He won’t demand anything, not if I know Boyo,’ Martha said evenly. ‘That lad has more sense than many twice his years.’

  ‘I must do what’s right,’ Ellie said. ‘What I think Jubilee would have wanted. But should I talk to Dan first and then talk to Boyo, what do you think?’

  ‘I think you should put Boyo out of his misery as soon as possible,’ Martha said dryly. ‘It’s not fair to keep him waiting. Just tell him the facts and worry about making any decisions concerning the money afterwards.’

 

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