As soon as they had gone Kathryn asked Sally to call Tom in so that they could talk about what they could do. Tom proudly produced the pan and crockery that they had managed to keep from the surveyor’s unwelcome gaze, a little grubby by now from their immersion in the compost. She thanked them, a little tearfully, and said that Tom and Sally should share the spoils between them. She had no idea whether she should be able to pay them that quarter. At least Tom and Sally should have something they could sell.
‘But what shall you do, Mrs M? You must look to yourself, not to us.’
‘I shall have to manage somehow, Sally. I am wondering about going to see whether the room my aunt used to rent is still available. After all, it was in a most convenient situation and the rent was very low. It is you and Tom who most concern me at the moment. I am just so sorry. It will be completely outside my power to keep you on. I meant to ask Mr Brewer about it. He may well be happy to take you, too, if I ask him. I’m sorry. It slipped my mind whilst he was here. I will call and ask him about it, if you wish.’
Tom and Sally looked as if they would rather work for anyone else in the world than Mr and Mrs Brewer but they knew, too, that times were hard and that food and bedding unfortunately did not appear out of nowhere.
‘Well, don’t you worry about us, Mrs M. We’ll sort ourselves out no problem. And we don’t want all your bits and pieces, neither. We’ve both tucked a little bit away. I’m sure we’ll be able to manage for a quarter without pay.’
Kathryn thanked them silently with her look. She was quite unable to say anything. Sally came up to her and gave her a great hug. Then she and Tom went quietly about their work.
The next day saw Kathryn making her way into Weymouth once again. It was raining, a dull, wet rain which quickly soaked her through but the church bells were ringing and flags were flying in every street. Not that she noticed them at all. She made her way to the rear of Maiden Street and up the old familiar stairs to the landlady’s apartment on an upper floor. Yes, her aunt’s old room would be available. Most of the visitors were leaving for the winter and the room should be free by the end of the month. The rent would have to rise a little, but Kathryn could reserve the room for a small deposit and move in after that.
Her next job was to visit Mrs Wright. Her friend was in a state of excitement that Kathryn had never seen her in before.
‘Oh, great news, Kathryn,’ she said, as soon as Kathryn appeared at her door. ‘Great news, indeed. Have you heard? We have had a great victory over the French. The French and Spanish fleets are quite destroyed. An immense number of ships were involved. My husband’s ship took part in the action. The ship was badly damaged but John himself is safe. He will be coming home on leave, Kathryn. He will be home with me for Christmas. I was never so happy in all my life.’
Kathryn had to share in her friend’s joyful news. The French wars were passing her quite by over at Preston but here in High Street they were not just important, they were a matter of life and death. So she allowed Mrs Wright’s raptures to take their course and, indeed, she was quite loath to spoil them with her own sorry news. But the sorry news did have to be told. Kathryn had need for recourse to the little tin box in order to reserve the room. Some explanation was expected, and required. It sobered her friend substantially.
‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘Oh, my dear Kathryn. I’m so sorry. Of course, I shall fetch the tin immediately. And you say they are taking everything? There will be nothing left for you at all?’
‘Nothing. But at least I have reserved my room – or, shall reserve it once I pay my deposit. It is quite a modest apartment. It will not cost me very much and it shall have the advantage of being quite in the centre of town. I shall be able to expand my business a little when I am able to work from home.’
Mrs Wright had long learned from Andrew of Kathryn’s real reason for taking the sewing work and she respected her for it hugely. She sincerely hoped that she should be able to get some of the old customers back, although she knew that even so the money would be very scarce at this time of the year.
‘It is a pity in a way that my husband is coming home,’ she said at last. ‘Otherwise you could have made use of his room while he is away. Perhaps when he has returned to sea again it is something for us to consider?’
‘But you forget that my own husband may return at any time, Jane. I doubt you’d want him cluttering up the place as well.’
Mrs Wright was not too worried about having her place cluttered up although she did not at all relish the thought of putting up with his tempers.
‘I suppose that’s true,’ she acknowledged. ‘It would be rather awkward with two of you in this tiny little house. Well, I do so hope that it will all work out for you. And I shall expect to visit you once you are settled – it will be so much more convenient than coming over to Preston. I need not disturb your work at all, you know. In fact, perhaps you will allow me help you out sometimes?’
As it turned out it was fortunate that Mrs Wright had felt unable to offer Kathryn a room, as not only did her husband appear at his house the following week, he also came accompanied by a guest of his own – the somewhat dashing young Captain of a Privateer whom he had met up with on the way from Gibraltar and with whom he had managed to secure a swift passage to Weymouth much in advance of the remainder of the fleet. This Captain, Mr Augustus Rowley-Jones, was a native of Weymouth but now had no family left in the area. Bringing his ship back for some modifications and refurbishment in a shipyard on the Wey he had quite expected to take a room at one of the quayside inns for the few weeks of his stay. But the option of a free bed in a cosy house with a charming young woman at the helm was more than enough to persuade him to amend his plans. So he duly turned up with his good friend Wright and deposited his sack in her husband’s little room.
So when Kathryn visited her friend later that same week she found herself being introduced not to one but to two young gentlemen, both brown as berries, the one with whiskers and a ready laugh, the other with ear-rings and dark seductive eyes. Indeed, Mr Augustus Rowley-Jones was more than happy to turn his dark seductive eyes upon Kathryn as she came in through the door. A seafaring life meant long periods devoid of female company and her lustrous eyes and glossy curls were entirely to his taste. He instantly resolved to provide himself with a little amusement during his short stay in Weymouth with Mr and Mrs Wright.
It was not Kathryn but Andrew who turned out to provide his primary source of amusement, however. The day after his arrival at High Street Mr Rowley-Jones was favoured by a morning call from his host’s brother-in-law and immediately invited to a game of cards with him over at ‘The Ship’. Mr Wright, indeed, was also subject to the same invitation, but having just spent the best part of a year away from his new wife he declined the offer and resolved to spend some time alone with her instead. Andrew himself was actually feeling in need of a few strong brews as well as a game of cards that day. Having heard that his fiancée was finally expecting to travel back from her grandmama’s that afternoon he had resolved on paying her a short visit (as short a visit as he could reasonably get away with) in order to welcome her home, and had privately considered that some fortification might be in order immediately prior to doing just that.
From Andrew’s perspective, therefore, the absence of his brother-in-law, though completely understandable, was a little unfortunate. Cutlass Chard failing to turn up, and Giles still being absent who-knew-where, the absence of a fourth member made the playing of cards – and hence, the downing of plenty of alcohol - a little more tricky than expected.
‘No matter,’ said Mr Brewer, phlegmatically. ‘I’ll tell you what. With Sophie and the children expected back home today I had strict instructions from Mrs Brewer that I was to invite you over for your meal. Why doesn’t Mr Rowley-Jones come along as well? Everyone’s as dull as ditchwater with sitting inside looking glum all the time. We can have a few brews at my place and perhaps young Sophie will give us a little entertainment after
the meal. She should be back from Sherborne by then – she was setting out at about one or one thirty, I believe. I have a horrible feeling that she was taking the opportunity to spend some more of my money on clothes and the like before she left today. Costs me a fortune, that young lady does – be glad to pass her on to you, to tell you the truth, Berkeley. She’ll certainly be pleased to see you.’
Andrew felt it politic to accede to Mr Brewer’s kind invitation. Sophie was his intended bride, after all, and they had enjoyed only a most desultory correspondence during her six week absence (Andrew being as irregular a correspondent as the average gentleman, and Sophie having very little to say that would have been of any interest to anyone at all – even an ardent lover - despite her change of scene). But now that she was returning to the family home, with all danger of infection over, it was apparent that he should be obliged to resume his previous pattern of visits there once again. Even so, he didn’t fail to take the opportunity of reminding Mr Brewer of his heavy investments in the land reclamation – investments which would be unlikely to result in any ready cash for many a long year to come - and that Miss Brewer should be gravely disappointed should she be expecting expensive London Seasons and extravagant presents once she was his bride.
‘In fact, it will be quite the contrary you know, Mr Brewer. Although we will have plenty to meet our immediate needs we will have to live quite modestly at Belvoir for several years at least.’
Mr Rowley-Jones was similarly happy to accept. Having heard the words ‘young Sophie’ and ‘pleased to see you’ fall from his new friend’s lips he was more than pleased to accompany him on his walk to Gloster Row, whilst the information that Mr Berkeley should shortly be welcoming her into Belvoir House as his wife was quite immaterial to that young gentleman’s considerations.
And it so happened that the lovely Sophie, delighted that her affianced husband should be returned to her at long last, so forgot herself that she flung her arms around him as soon as he had entered the house and treated Mr Rowley-Jones to the sight of just what that young lady was capable of. This excited his interest even further. ‘Pleased to see you’ was maybe an understatement. He got the distinct impression that the fascinating Miss Brewer might be so pleased to see any young gentleman – and particularly a young gentleman with a romantic occupation (like that, perhaps, of Captain of a delightfully comely Privateer) with adventurous tales, money to burn, silver ear-rings and dark seductive eyes – that she might offer similar favours to him as well. Indeed, once the first flush of excitement at seeing Andrew had abated a little it soon became patently obvious that Mr Rowley-Jones’ initial impression was not too far wide of the mark. The rapt attention with which she listened to his rollicking tales (which were a lot more exciting to a young lady than land reclamation, after all), the blushing smiles that she bestowed upon him and the fact that Andrew had to address her several times at dinner before he could elicit the condiments that he was in need of certainly indicated that she was not so perfectly set upon dedicating herself to her first choice as to prevent her from considering a more attractive offer should the prospect of one be in sight.
So overall the day had gone quite nicely for Mr Augustus Rowley-Jones.
Chapter 22
Towards the end of November Giles returned to Sandsford House. No notice, no warning. Nothing. One day he was not there and the next day he was. He breezed in, as careless as if he had just been out for an early morning ramble, took a startled Kathryn in his arms, kissed her for a lifetime and settled down in the kitchen as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Kathryn was wary about mentioning the house move to him. She knew from past experience that any implied criticism of his conduct – and certainly she felt that the need to take a small apartment up in town as a consequence of him gambling her house and all her belongings away might reasonably imply some criticism of his conduct – was liable to swift retribution on his part. But the removal date was fast approaching. In another four days they must be gone. So she felt quite unable to delay the unpleasant news for too much longer. She decided to broach it the following morning, when she judged that his breakfast time might be the least bad moment to bring the matter up.
The date should not have come as a surprise to him. Indeed, as the date he had originally agreed had already well gone he should, by rights, have been surprised to find Kathryn still in residence at all. Nevertheless he stared at her uncomprehendingly as she hesitatingly mentioned the issue and seemed on the point of trying to laugh it off when she hurried on to say that she had reserved the apartment and that they should be able to effect a seamless exchange once the extra time was up.
‘But you had no need to do that, Kitty,’ he protested. ‘Why ever did you feel the need to reserve anywhere else? We can stay here. I will sort it out with Brewer, don’t you worry.’
‘But he has taken the inventory and everything, Giles. His wife is hoping to have her first Christmas here. I cannot think that he’ll be happy to find us still here on Christmas day.’
‘I’ll buy it back for you. I have made a little money. It should have been more but the cheating bastards sold me down the river. There is no need for you to move out of your house. I will go and get it sorted. Where were you about to go?’
When Kathryn told him that she had reserved her aunt’s old apartment Giles looked at her in disgust.
‘That smelly place? Well, I’m surprised at you. You make out you are so refined. I cannot conceive of you choosing to live in a place like that.’
‘It was not exactly of my own choosing, Giles. I did not take it out of choice. I had to take somewhere I could afford, and the landlady there was very helpful when...when I needed her help. We will have very little money – almost none, remember. What else could I...’
‘Stop that right there. Stop blaming me for everything. I have said that I will sort it out, and sort it out I will.’
There was no sign of him sorting anything out that day, however, and Kathryn began to get increasingly edgy. Their moving date was imminent but Giles remained firmly esconced at Sandsford House, doing what he had always done – shooting, fishing, drinking at the Osmington ‘Crown’. Always erratic, he now seemed to be losing all sense of reality and she began to wonder whether he had simply dismissed their conversation from his mind. After lunch on the following day, however, he got up and told Tom to saddle his horse. Kathryn watched him go. She exchanged a glance with Sally. She was feeling very troubled.
Her sense of foreboding increased during the course of the evening. Giles had been gone a long time. She looked out of her bedroom window into the blank darkness, and wondered. She did not hear him return.
Kathryn had a sleepless night and at the first sign of light she got up and dressed. She let herself out of the back door and wandered down the little trackway towards the seashore. But the sea had lost its power to soothe today. Instead it was stirred up, angry, roaring unfeelingly as it cruelly whipped the rocky shore. Kathryn was feeling nervous, edgy. The wind was whistling across the barren grassland. There were ravens about, the great black birds calling menacingly overhead. She shivered and pulled her shawl closer round her shoulders. She could not get her sense of impending doom to go away.
On her way back she called in at the cottages to say her goodbyes. The tenants had been there for as long as she could remember, and their parents and grandparents had tilled the self same land as hers had done. Mr Gabriel and Mr Arthur, in particular, seemed to be genuinely affected by her departure. They had long been fond of the gentle young woman who had already seen so much tragedy in her life.
At about a quarter before eleven Kathryn, helping Sally in the wash-house, became aware of the sound of carriage wheels on the gravel at the front. She could feel the fear gripping her as she passed through the kitchen and opened the front door to see who it was. It was Mr Berkeley who, together with his tiger, was hauling a somewhat inebriated Giles out of his curricle. Giles was complaining lustily about h
is treatment, though his protestations did nothing to amend it. He finally managed to shrug himself free and stagger a little unsteadily into the house. Straight through the hallway he went and into the kitchen beyond. Kathryn knew immediately that things had not gone according to plan – what ever that plan had been.
‘I thought I had better bring him back to you, Kathryn,’ explained Mr Berkeley, taking her hand. ‘I know you will need his assistance in getting ready for your move. Unfortunately he appears unlikely to be much good to you just for the moment, though I expect he will sober up soon. After all, to my knowledge he has not had a drink since four this morning, when he was thrown unceremoniously out of Mr Brewer’s house after being unforgivably rude to him for the previous hour or more. I had gone home myself at about the same hour. I was just on my way over to visit Sandsford when I saw him still slumped on Mr Brewer’s front steps, much where I had left him last night. It did not appear a very comfortable bed. He has complained loudly enough about it all the way back here.’
‘Thank you so much, Andrew. As you say, I could do with his help. Not that there is very much to pack – it appears that Mr Brewer has purchased almost everything in the sale – but I will need him to carry his share when we take it into Weymouth on Monday.’
They had followed Giles into the kitchen. He was slumped morosely at the table. Andrew and Kathryn looked at each other and said nothing.
‘I was actually on my way to see Tom and Sally, if you are happy for me to speak to them, Mrs Miller. I have a little employment proposition to make to them. I find I have need of a couple of extra pairs of hands and thought that they may be interested in working for me at Belvoir - if I may?’
The Body on the Beach (The Weymouth Trilogy) Page 18