by Iris Gower
‘Look, Boyo, you can see her, you can stay with her sometimes, but for the sake of our child, if not for me, can you act with discretion and pretend to the world that all is well with our marriage?’
He looked at her, he had never seen her ask for anything before; she had been self-sufficient, in charge of her emotions, but now Bethan was vulnerable, she needed him. Wearily, he rose to his feet.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll work something out.’ He suddenly felt he must get out of the room, he must be alone to think. ‘We’ll talk more in the morning,’ he said and Bethan inclined her head without replying.
In his room, Boyo went towards the window and stared out at the moonlit night. In the huge gardens, the trees were tipped with silver, the lily pond just beyond the terrace looked like a fairy ring. They would have to fence that in when the baby came.
It hit him then, he was going to be a father. He sank onto the bed and covered his eyes with his hands, he didn’t know what he should think or feel, all he was aware of now in the darkness of the night was what a mess he had made of his life.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘My love, you’ve borrowed 3,000 guineas! Do you know what you are taking on?’ Craig was seated at the window of Summer Lodge, his eyes resting on the manicured lawns and the carefully situated flower-beds which gave apparently random splashes of colour to the garden. He did not look at his wife, he felt ashamed, he had betrayed her, not with his body but with his lack of business acumen.
‘Don’t worry, Craig, it will work, it has to work.’ Hari placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him lightly. He closed his eyes in sudden pain, he loved her so much and he had brought her from the heights of wealth to the depths of poverty with a few foolish moves.
‘The money has given the bank a little more faith in me.’ Her voice was soft and yet edged with excitement. ‘I’ll use it well, don’t you doubt it.’ She moved away from him and stood at the centre of the room looking around her. ‘I intend to begin by making the necessary alterations to the house. I’m sorry, my love, but Summer Lodge will shortly be unrecognizable.’ She kissed the top of his head. ‘But then anything is better than losing our home, isn’t it?’
He heard the hint of uncertainty in her voice and knew he should be reassuring her. How could he? He had no faith in himself any more, anything he had to say would be worthless. ‘The leather,’ he forced himself to speak, ‘has it been taken away from the warehouse by the bailiff yet?’
‘No and it won’t be, not now that the bank has agreed to wait. I have had the stock moved to the old tannery; I have Mr Hopkins’s permission to use it as a store for the time being at no charge. And with the help of Mr Hopkins, I have let the warehouse at a very satisfactory figure, so it will not be draining us of any money but bringing us income instead.’
‘You seem to have everything under control, Hari.’ He turned to face her and she crossed the room swiftly and sat on his knee, her arms around him hugging him to her.
‘I’m doing it for us, Craig, please don’t be hostile to me, I’m trying my best.’
He buried his face in her neck. ‘I’m sorry, Hari, I’m so afraid, afraid that we’ll just sink deeper into the mire.’
She turned his face up to hers and kissed his mouth. ‘I promise you, my darling, we are going to succeed. What I did once, I can do again, please believe me.’
He felt tears burn behind his lids, he who had been the strong one, master in his own home was brought to this, depending on his wife to bail him out of problems he alone had created.
‘Don’t let pride stand in our way, Craig,’ she said and he knew she could read him like a book, ‘help me, don’t hinder me and we’ll make it, I know we will.’
He drew her mouth down to his again and tasted her lips, as sweet now as they had been when she was little more than a young girl. Hari, the shoemaker’s daughter, a woman of spirit and fire, the love of his life. ‘I think I want to make love to my wife.’ He spoke softly and his heart lifted as he saw the happiness in his Hari’s eyes. She rose to her feet and clung on to his hand.
‘That’s a very good idea.’
It was some time later when Hari was asked to come to the drawing-room by the flustered maid.
‘Sorry, Mrs Grenfell, but there’s the vicar and his wife called to see you, was it all right to let them in?’
‘Of course, Phoebe,’ Hari smiled at the young maid in amusement, the girl’s eyes were large in her pale face as she looked towards the bed where Craig still lay beneath the sheets. It did not take a quick mind to assess the situation.
Hari finished buttoning her blouse, ushering the girl to the door at the same time. ‘Tell my visitors I will be with them in a few minutes.’
When the door closed behind the maid, Hari moved back to the bed and sank down next to Craig. ‘She’s shocked,’ she said, laughter bubbling within her, ‘Phoebe probably thinks we are far too old to be doing this sort of thing.’
‘You are an insatiable, demanding woman,’ Craig said smiling. ‘I swear your plan is to wear me out with pleasure so that you can inherit my vast fortune.’
Hari touched his cheek. ‘That’s more like the man I married, I’m glad your sense of humour has returned.’
‘Aye, when you are down, the only way is onward and upward and thanks to you, Hari, that’s where we’re going.’
Hari rose to her feet. ‘Now, make yourself respectable, you can’t take tea with the vicar looking like the cat who got the cream.’
‘Why, do you think the dried up old stick will be jealous?’
Hari threw a pillow at him and moved to the door. ‘Show some respect, old Reverend Jones is a fine preacher even if his sermons are far too long.’
She made her way downstairs to the drawing-room and, as she entered the sun-splashed room, she saw with surprise not the old vicar of Swansea as she had expected but Daniel Bennett and Ellie, his beautiful wife.
‘Ellie, Daniel, how nice to see you again.’
Hari saw that tea had already been served to the guests and with a sigh of relief, she sank into a chair. She was getting rather old for mad passion in the middle of the day.
‘We heard of your misfortune,’ Daniel said without preliminaries. ‘Don’t look so surprised, news does travel as far as the village of Ilston, believe it or not.’ He smiled. ‘Why we have come is because we want to offer our help.’
Hari looked at Daniel Bennett in surprise. ‘What sort of help?’
‘Well, I have no fortune,’ Daniel smiled his charming smile. ‘I do, however, travel a great deal around the various parishes in my domain. If I could take samples, say, of your new designs to the outlying areas it might be of some help. What do you think?’
Hari felt tears burn against her closed lids as she fought for control. ‘That’s very kind, a very generous offer, but how did you know that I was starting up again on my own?’
It was Ellie who replied. ‘There isn’t much goes on that Daniel doesn’t hear about, I think it’s something to do with his earlier training as a newspaper reporter.’ She paused, ‘On this occasion, though, it was our old friend Boyo who told us about your situation. Please let us help, we would be so happy to do all we can.’
A ray of sunlight reached across the room like long fingers and touched Hari’s face. It felt like a benediction, an omen that everything was going to go right for her.
‘I’ll accept your generous offer,’ she said softly. ‘Please spread the news that Hari Grenfell is still in business.’
Daniel smiled again, his eyes were twinkling. ‘Well, I’ve had a word with. Him up there.’ He pointed to the ceiling. ‘He helps those who helps themselves, if you’ll forgive the cliché.’
Hari felt tears constrict her throat, she felt strong and humbled all at once, she had the good will of fine people on her side, how could she fail? She looked at Daniel and briefly touched his hand. ‘Keep talking to Him upstairs, I am going to need all the help I can get.’
CHAPTER SIX
Catherine O’Conner sat in the kitchen of Honey’s Farm staring doggedly before her. Boyo’s revelation that his wife was pregnant had come as a devastating blow. She had cried for days. She had sat in the house in Caswell, staring out at the rain coming down in torrents outside, greying the landscape so that the sea was no longer visible. Then she had received her mother’s letter begging her to come and visit them. Catherine had been impatient, Fon’s desperate plea to see her had been ill-timed and unwelcome.
But now, sitting with her mother, who appeared white-faced and worried, Catherine was concerned in spite of herself. Fon’s eyes were red-rimmed, deeply shadowed and Catherine felt somehow threatened by her mother’s emotion.
‘I had to send for you, cariad.’ Fon rubbed at her eyes. ‘Your father’s ill and he’s been asking to see you; please, please go upstairs and talk to him.’
Catherine shook her head slowly. ‘There’s no point, Mam, he’ll just shout at me again, tell me I’m living a life of sin.’
Fon closed her eyes for a moment as though in pain. ‘No, love, he’s past that, he just wants to tell you how much he loves you before … before it’s too late.’
‘Too late?’ A prickle of fear touched Catherine’s spine as though cold fingers had reached out for her. ‘Mam, what do you mean?’
Fon breathed in slowly. ‘Catherine, your father is sick, very sick.’
‘But he can’t be. When I left home he was a fine healthy man, how could he suddenly fall ill?’
‘He didn’t, fall ill, not suddenly, anyway.’ Fon’s words were disjointed, she had to force herself to speak because tears obstructed her throat.
‘It’s his heart, the sickness has been coming on him for a long time but he wouldn’t admit to it. Can’t you understand? That’s why he wanted to see you married to a tidy man who would look after you and the farm.’
‘Dad should know better than anyone that I couldn’t do what he wanted. I have to make my own way in life, Mam, just as you did. In any case, how do you know that Liam would want to live here?’
‘He said he would, it’s not so far from Ireland, mind. Look, just try to humour your dad, will you, Cath? You surely owe him that much.’
‘But can’t the doctors, can’t they do anything for him?’
‘They’ve tried, don’t you think I would have insisted on trying harder if there was anything to cure your father? Go on, go to see him, tell him you love him, make him feel better.’
Reluctantly Catherine rose to her feet and, slowly, she made her way up the familiar stairs, hearing the third stair creak as it had every night since her childhood, remembering the sweetness of honeysuckle drifting in from outside the landing window.
Her father lay beneath the blankets, already he seemed diminished, as though sickness had robbed him of his will. He looked up at her, a spark in his eyes.
‘Holy Mother be praised, you’ve come to see me, Catherine.’ He held up his hand. ‘I’m sorry, darlin’ girl, for what I tried to do and it was wrong of me to cast you from my door. Do you forgive me, Catherine?’
‘There’s nothing to forgive, Dad, don’t be silly.’ He took her hand and held it and his grip was still firm. He had colour in his cheeks and it was difficult to believe that he was sick.
It was as though he read her mind. ‘I’m going to die, Catherine, I don’t know if it will be this week, next week or next month even, but sure enough my days on God’s earth are numbered.’
‘Don’t Dad!’ She clung tighter to his hand.
‘Hush, Catherine, it’s the truth, no good hiding from it like a child.’ He paused, he was very short of breath, something Catherine had never noticed before.
‘I have to ask you a favour.’ He looked at her pleadingly and she felt her heart contract, she knew what he wanted and she shrank from hearing the words out loud.
‘Come home, love.’ He had spoken and Catherine swallowed hard trying to push the words away from her conscious mind. ‘It won’t be for long, I promise.’
Tears burned painfully behind her eyes, he was begging her to come home, promising her that his life would be ended shortly as though he was inconveniencing her by living.
‘Oh, Dad!’ She bent over him and rested her cheek against his. ‘Of course I’ll come home. You should have told me all this before, I wouldn’t have been so horrible to you then.’
‘It’s for your mother’s sake, darlin’; Fon has never been alone in her life and I don’t want her to be alone when I…’
Catherine gently put her hand over his mouth. ‘Hush, Dad, don’t try to talk any more, you’ll only upset yourself.’ She rose from the bed. ‘I’ll fetch my things, I’ll be back by nightfall, I promise.’
When she returned to the kitchen, it seemed to be full of people. A man turned to look at her and she saw with a shock that it was Liam Cullen. Slowly he walked towards her, unnoticed by his father and grandmother who were talking earnestly to Fon.
‘Look, about that first meeting, sure an’ I’m that sorry for the upset it caused. No offence was intended.’
She stared up at him, he was handsome in a rugged sort of way and with a shock of red hair the same colour as her own. He smiled and his cheeks dimpled and she felt herself relaxing a little.
‘I don’t think any of that matters now, does it?’ She forced herself to hold back the tears. ‘I understand why Dad did it but you, why were you party to such an arrangement? Can’t you find a girl of your own to love in Ireland?’
He made a wry face. ‘I confess to my sins, girls I have known, lovely girls, sweet colleens, maidens who would have made my life easy and happy.’
‘Well then?’
‘Well then I was shown a picture of you, Catherine O’Conner, and I fell in love.’
‘That’s daft.’ She spoke bluntly.
He shrugged, ‘Maybe it is daft but there it is.’
‘Well, you can see that in person I’m not as sweet and nice as you might have believed me to be. I’m a scarlet woman, I’m living with a married man, living a life of sin. What do you say to that, Liam Cullen?’
He shook his head. ‘’Tis sad, sure enough, to see a good girl, a beautiful girl, throw herself away on a man who will not put a ring on her finger and make an honest woman out of her.’
‘It’s not like that! Oh, why am I bothering to even talk to you?’ She moved towards her mother, ‘Mam, I’m going to collect my things, I’ll be back before dark.’
Fon looked up at her, eyes limpid with gratitude. ‘I’ll be waiting, love, take care on the journey.’
It was a long walk back into town to the hotel where Boyo was waiting for her. On the way she thought about her father, about the way his eyes had pleaded with her. It shamed her that he had to beg for her to come home when he knew that he was so ill. That he was dying, she would not, could not, accept; her father was a strong man, he was not so old, surely he could get over this sickness and be well again?
Boyo was pacing the room, the richly furnished but impersonal hotel room. ‘Cat,’ he took her in his arms. ‘It’s bad news isn’t it?’
She clung to him, wanting the comfort of his arms around her. He pressed her close, his lips to her hair.
‘My father,’ her voice was muffled against his chest, ‘he’s sick, very sick.’
Boyo held her away from him and looked into her face. ‘Who says so?’
‘The doctor has told him it’s his heart.’
‘The doctor! Who is he, some local quack? Look, I’ll get the best doctors from London, we’ll have a second opinion, there’s probably nothing wrong with him that a good rest won’t cure.’
Catherine looked up at him, her eyes full of tears. ‘I can see it in his face, hear it in his voice, he is very ill, there’s no getting away from it.’ She paused, ‘He wants me to go home.’
‘No!’ Boyo clasped her more tightly. ‘Cat, I can’t do without you, I love you desperately, you know that.’
Suddenly she was impatient with him. ‘Yo
u can’t think only of yourself in this,’ she said quickly.
She thought of Liam’s words that she was throwing herself away on a man who wouldn’t make an honest woman of her. Perhaps she had believed he would leave his wife, even now, take her away somewhere far from Swansea so that they could live openly together. She’d had dreams of them spending the rest of their lives together, but those dreams had been cruelly dashed by Bethan’s news of the coming child.
‘You have your wife and soon you’ll have your child to comfort you.’ She turned away from him. ‘Now, I can’t think of you, I have to think about Dad, give him my love while I can.’
‘I’m sorry, you are right, of course.’ Boyo sank onto the bed. ‘I’m being selfish, your father needs you, of course you must be with him.’
Suddenly uncertain, Catherine turned to him. ‘Boyo, my life is going to be so empty without you.’
He drew her towards him and kissed her throat and her breasts and then her mouth. She sighed softly and surrendered herself to his embrace and it seemed that both of them knew their lovemaking was born of despair rather than passion. It was a farewell gesture and they both knew it.
Jamie was seated on a chair near the open door of the kitchen. He stared out at the lands of Honey’s Farm falling away before him. He loved this land, had given it his sweat and blood, had forced it into yielding him and his family a good living. And now, he was saying goodbye to it all.
He was much weaker, Fon and Catherine between them had half carried him downstairs. It was for the last time, he could not face the effort and pain of it again.
Outside, he saw the brightness of his daughter’s skirt against the green of the fields. She was carrying a pail of milk and even as Jamie watched, he saw Liam Cullen take it from Catherine’s hands and carry it with ease.
He allowed himself a small smile. Once a long time ago, his first wife, Katherine, sick unto death as she’d been, had chosen Fon to take her place. It had been a stroke of genius, for he and Fon could not have been happier together. Now, Jamie was of a mind to match his child with a good Irishman. If the plan of throwing a couple together had worked once, he could not see why it should not work again.