Firebird

by Iris Gower

  Summer moved into a heatwave, grass dried in the barren outcrops of rocks on the hills above the river. Mr Morton-Edwards sat most days in the garden wrapped in a cloak, his health still far from good. And Llinos Savage had taken charge of the Tawe Pottery with a vengeance.

  Production of the blue-white porcelain dinner and tea services had increased. The rate of failures in the kiln, though still high, were not enough to prevent production.

  The more elegantly decorated china was being shipped to London, the highly coloured flower and bird designs meeting with favour among the rich clientele of the town establishments.

  Llinos, with Mr Wright, continued to experiment with the composition of the porcelain. She was determined to retain the almost translucent quality of the china while making a harder paste that would not shatter in the heat of the ovens. It was proving no easy task.

  Eynon continued to try to persuade her to marry him and in the meantime had signed over to her some of his shares in the Tawe Pottery. Llinos had quarrelled with him over it but he was adamant, the gift was given, he told her and she would be churlish to throw it back in his face.

  Gradually, as Philip Morton-Edwards began to recover from his illness, he began to take more interest in the running of the pottery. He expected Llinos to spend time with him, talking over matters of production. And though Llinos had worried that he would think her a scheming hussy, on the contrary, he had accepted that she now held shares in the pottery with a great deal of enthusiasm.

  ‘My dear girl!’ He was pale and thinner than before, but the sparkle of enthusiasm was back in his eyes. ‘My first wife gave Eynon those shares as well as leaving him an enormous fortune; he can do what he likes with them. As for me, I am only too happy to have you on board. Left to Eynon, the pottery would have faltered and died.’

  He touched her hand. ‘I am very grateful to you for all you have done, but to lighten the load I have sent for my cousin Catherine to come and visit. I hope you don’t mind, my dear?’

  Strangely enough, Llinos did mind, she had become accustomed to being in charge. It was a position that suited her and she did not relish it being taken away. Still, it was doubtful that the cousin would wish to interfere in the affairs of the pottery.

  Llinos realized that her life had fallen into a pattern: she had become busy and fulfilled, except that when she went to bed at home in Pottery House she was alone with her thoughts, and they were inevitably thoughts of Joe.

  He was so far away from her, across vast oceans, living on another continent. It was in the dark hours that despair and anger against her father found release in dreams.

  The Savage Pottery was also doing well, although the profits were and always would be far short of the fortunes made by the Tawe Pottery. Lloyd Savage had kept his feet on the ground, ensuring that his workers produced solid, everyday products which would always be needed in kitchens of homes across the town of Swansea and the valleys beyond.

  The terracotta jugs and bowls, glazed with yellow oxide, continued to sell well as did the transfer-glazed, blue and white tableware made of good strong earthenware.

  Llinos made a point of keeping out of her father’s way. When they were together, she scarcely spoke. She knew her attitude hurt him but Lloyd had a stiff-necked pride that would not allow him to admit he could be wrong, and she could be just as stubborn as he was.

  It was after a particularly vivid dream about Joe that Llinos woke to the early morning with tears on her cheeks. She rose quickly and splashed cold water over her face and body and dressed in her sturdiest high-waisted dress. Her anger and pain were so intense that she needed to be outdoors, to-breathe in the morning air.

  The sun was already warm as Llinos made her way from along the row towards the Tawe Pottery. She heard her name being called and turned to see Eynon, his coat-tails flapping as he rode swiftly towards her.

  ‘Llinos, I’m glad I’ve caught you.’

  She held the reins of his animal as Eynon slid from the saddle. She watched Eynon delve through his pockets and for a moment her heart leapt, thinking he had heard from Joe. His first words dashed her hope.

  ‘A letter from my Aunt Catherine,’ he said breathlessly. ‘Father has invited her to stay but she feels he is still too poorly to take on a couple of visitors and she wishes me to offer accommodation to both her and her god-daughter, Georgina Fairwater.’ He made a face. ‘I met her when she was a child, and a precocious little thing she was!’

  He looked over the edge of the paper, his eyebrows raised. ‘I’ll read it to you. It begins . . . “My dear Eynon”.’ He made another face. ‘“Dear Eynon” indeed, I haven’t seen her in years. Anyway, I shall go on.

  ‘“My Dear Eynon, My wish is to visit you at your establishment in Swansea. I shall be bringing Georgina with me and I believe that the two of you will get on very well together.” You can see what she’s after, can’t you?’

  ‘Lodgings for herself and this girl?’

  ‘No, no, Llinos, you are missing the point. Aunt Catherine is hoping to make a match of it, me and Georgina, she thinks I’ll fall in love and marry her god-daughter.’

  Llinos nodded. ‘You could be right. In any case, you can hardly refuse to let them come to Swansea, can you?’

  ‘No. That’s why I’m here. I want you to come and stay. You know the house, you know the servants. You’d be a sort of hostess to the ladies. I shall be going away for a while,’ he smiled, ‘making my escape, some would call it, and if you were to take up a tenancy, all done legally, you’d be in charge.’ He paused. ‘Come on, you don’t really want to go on living with your father, do you?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Llinos said. ‘But where are you going?’

  ‘I don’t know, anywhere out of Georgina’s way! I won’t leave at once, of course, I’ll see the ladies settled in and all that. What do you say, Llinos? Please agree, you’d be helping me out.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind renting your house but for heaven’s sake, Eynon, I don’t need to sign a legal document. No-one is going to attempt to push me out of there, are they?’

  ‘You never know. I would like you to be legally entitled to stay for as long as you like. At least let me do this much for you as a friend, I know you’re unhappy the way things are.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Llinos said again. ‘Can’t you let me think about this for a while, you have rather sprung it on me. In any case, how could I pay the rent? Be realistic, Eynon.’

  ‘I am. You have wages for managing the pottery, don’t you? And I will pay you as a sort of companion-cum-hostess. You see what I need, a buffer between me and dear Georgina while I’m home and a hostess when I’m not. Please, please, say yes. You would be doing me a favour.’

  ‘I’ll think about it. Now, while you are here, come and see the work of the new young artist I’ve taken on, he’s so talented you won’t believe it. It’s all right, your father hasn’t been into the pottery for days, you won’t have to meet him.’

  ‘You and your china!’ Eynon tethered his horse to the fence post and followed her along the lane to the pottery.

  ‘Look, Llinos, the roses are out, perhaps Joe will come home soon.’

  Her heart thumped rapidly for a moment. ‘What makes you say that? Perhaps he has decided that his home is on the plains of America where he was born.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Eynon fell silent and Llinos welcomed the silence; she could not bear to even talk about Joe. She missed him badly still. The months had not faded his memory from her mind or her heart. Without him, she was incomplete.

  As she reached the entrance to the Tawe Pottery, she smelled the clay, the flux and the pungent odour of the glazes and squared her shoulders. She must put her longing for Joe out of her head, she had work to do.

  ‘Why, Llinos, how nice of you to come and see me. I’ve missed your company very much.’ Philip was looking a little better, Llinos thought.

  ‘I’m disappointed that my cousin’s god-daughter will be staying with Eynon. I had tho
ught that Georgina would come over here to stay.’

  ‘Well, Eynon’s going away soon and I said I’d stay at his house, at least for the time being. It’s not a permanent arrangement but I feel I owe it to him to be a sort of hostess to Miss Fairwater.’ She frowned. ‘In any case, it’s difficult at home, my father and I are not getting along too well.’

  Philip touched her hand. ‘I wish you were my daughter. You are a fine woman, Llinos. We have become good friends, haven’t we? I don’t know what I’d have done without you. You have looked after my pottery with the nerve and skill of a woman twice your age.’

  ‘I love the work,’ Llinos said, ‘and I’m pleased that you have faith in me.’ How could people be so wrong about Philip? He was old and frail and needed looking after. Well, she was doing her best for him, she could do no more.

  Two days after Llinos moved in to Eynon’s house Georgina Fairwater arrived from England. She was accompanied by her elderly, fractious godmother and a mountain of bags and boxes. It occurred to Llinos that the tall, disdainful young woman, staring at her as though she was a butterfly on a pin, intended to take up permanent residence in Swansea.

  ‘Where is Mr Eynon Morton-Edwards? Why is he not here to greet us?’

  She flicked her gloves across the pale palms of her dainty hands, hands that had never touched clay or paint or glaze or indulged in any kind of work whatsoever by the look of them.

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know where Eynon is. I’m not his keeper.’ Llinos’s tone was sharper than she intended and Georgina frowned down at her.

  ‘What’s your name, my dear?’ Aunt Catherine asked.

  ‘I’m Llinos Savage. I live here.’

  ‘Do you indeed?’ Georgina said. ‘That’s something we shall have to reconsider.’

  ‘The fact that I live here is nothing to do with you.’ Llinos was beginning to think she should have signed Eynon’s piece of paper. ‘This is Eynon’s house, he alone decides who his guests are.’

  Georgina’s large blue eyes swept over her. ‘Really? Get someone to take our things to our rooms, would you?’

  ‘Sorry, I have work to do. I’m afraid you’ll have to speak to the servants yourself.’ Llinos left the house, slamming the door in a futile gesture of anger that nevertheless made her feel better.

  As she flounced off down the drive, she was aware that she was being childish but somehow, she knew, with a deep certainty, that the peace she had hoped to enjoy in Eynon’s home had vanished like the mist before the sun.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  It was high summer when Binnie and Maura were married in the church that crested the borders of Greenhill. Maura looked beautiful in a cream velvet gown and cloak, her red hair upswept into a cascade of curls. Binnie was self-conscious in his new cut-away coat and fine polished boots, his hair parted and slicked down with water.

  Llinos sat beside Eynon and watched as Father Martin conducted the service, his gentle voice rising and falling as he intoned the words.

  ‘I never thought I’d see Binnie become a married man,’ Llinos whispered.

  ‘It was that or lose Maura altogether.’ Eynon squeezed her hand. ‘Aren’t you tempted by all this to find yourself a wealthy husband?’ He smiled down at her and Llinos shook her head at him.

  ‘No, I am not!’

  The wedding reception was held at Eynon’s house. The place gleamed with cleanliness; in the kitchen cooks hovered over pans of steaming water and the mouth-watering aroma of roasting pork filled the house. Llinos, satisfied that everything was in hand, returned to the drawing-room.

  Binnie crossed the room towards her. He had grown tall. His dark hair was groomed, his moustache neatly trimmed. He was still a young man but he had worked hard all his life and there were lines on his face that should have graced someone much older.

  ‘I wish you every happiness, Binnie, you know that.’ Llinos hugged him. ‘You have a good job at the pottery and a fine house to live in, a healthy child and a very beautiful wife. You are to be congratulated.’

  Maura did look beautiful. Her skin and hair glowed in the sunlight. Her eyes were warm as they looked across the room at her husband. He met her eyes and her smile was full of love.

  ‘I should have done it long ago – I suppose.’ Binnie’s voice was heavy.

  ‘You had to wait until you were sure,’ Llinos said. ‘You are sure – aren’t you?’

  He made a face at her. ‘I don’t know, Llinos. I know what I don’t want and that is to feel trapped before I’m twenty years of age.’

  ‘You feel – trapped?’

  ‘If I’m honest – yes.’

  ‘Wedding nerves. You’ll see, everything will be just wonderful.’

  ‘I wish I had half your optimism.’

  Maura’s happy laugh rose above the hum of conversation as a maid handed her the baby. Maura hugged her daughter close, her features softened with love.

  ‘I suppose I should be grateful for everything.’ Binnie sounded doubtful. ‘After all, as a boy coming from the workhouse, I’ve been more fortunate than most.’

  ‘You can still have dreams, Binnie,’ Llinos said. ‘Being married isn’t the same as being dead, mind.’

  ‘How would you know?’

  ‘Binnie! Come and see the baby. She’s got another tooth!’ Maura was alight with happiness.

  ‘Go on.’ Llinos gave Binnie a gentle push and watched him thread his way through the room crowded with Maura’s relations. It seemed that Maura was forgiven now that she had become a respectable married woman.

  Llinos let herself out through the French doors. It was chilly outside, the sun had vanished and grey clouds filled the sky.

  ‘Things will work out for them, don’t worry, Llinos.’ Eynon was beside her. He put his arm around her shoulders. ‘They’ll have a comfortable enough life together, you’ll see.’

  Llinos shook her head. ‘I’m not sure, Eynon, Binnie doesn’t look at all happy.’

  On an impulse, she put her arms around Eynon’s waist and hugged him. He was thin beneath his clothes, his body slender with little strength.

  ‘Thank you for being a friend, only you understand how I’m missing Joe. I want him so much, Eynon.’

  ‘But will you ever get him, that’s the question? Try to steel yourself to the fact that Joe might never come home.’

  Llinos closed her eyes, resentment at Eynon’s words warring with her affection for him. She resisted the urge to give way to tears, knowing Eynon was right. Joe might be gone for ever.

  Sometimes Eynon made her think a little too clearly but he was stability in her world, the world that had changed so much in the last few months. Soon even he would be gone from her life, at least for a while.

  Eynon sensed her thoughts. ‘You’ll survive, people fall in and out of love all the time. And remember, I am always here for you, always. Anyway,’ he said briskly, ‘whenever you’ve had enough of the festivities, go upstairs out of it.’ He smiled.

  ‘You realize Aunt Catherine is sure we have a “love nest” here and as for Georgina, well, she is jealous of you already. If they spot us like this, arm in arm, their worst fears will be realized.’

  Llinos did not reply, she was in no mood for banter. She stared across the grounds to where the trees stood tall in the sunlight.

  ‘You mustn’t think about me, Eynon. Live your life the way you want to, then at least one of us will be happy.’

  A burst of laughter echoed from the warm cheeriness of the house and Llinos felt vulnerable and alone.

  ‘Damn Joe! I sometimes wish I’d never met him.’

  ‘I know exactly how you feel.’ The irony in his voice was not lost on Llinos.

  She looked up at him. His mouth was drawn down into a grimace. ‘For heaven’s sake,’ she said, ‘stop looking so sad. Let’s go in and join the others before we start weeping on each other’s shoulders.’

  Llinos stayed at the celebration for as long as was polite but it was a relief to leave the noise of the
crowd behind and relax in the privacy of her bedroom. She sank into a chair, thinking of Joe, trying to draw him to her with her thoughts, when a knock sounded on the door.

  ‘Excuse me.’ One of the maids stood hesitantly on the threshold. ‘Miss Fairwater has been asking for you, Miss Llinos.’

  ‘Oh? What does she want, Gladys?’

  ‘Don’t know, miss, bit put out she was, with all the noise and such from downstairs, says it’s disturbing her godmother. She’s asking can you go and see her.’

  ‘I can’t do anything about the noise,’ Llinos said impatiently. ‘And I haven’t time to run at Miss Fairwater’s beck and call. Will you bring me some nice hot tea, Gladys, please?’

  When Gladys had gone, Llinos stretched her feet towards the fire. It was good to be alone, good to sift through the images of Joe she had stored in her mind. If she closed her eyes she could see him, feel him, taste the scent of him.

  She tried to imagine him with a wife and a family around him but the image blurred and became misty and when she opened her eyes, they were filled with tears. He would come back to her, she knew he would, she prayed he would.

  The door opened and Llinos, expecting Gladys with the tea, did not look round.

  ‘I am so sorry to interrupt your solitude.’ Georgina’s voice was edged with sarcasm. ‘I just wondered how you could be so rude as to leave me to languish alone in my room.’

  Llinos sat up straighter. Beneath Georgina’s hostile tone, she sensed a real feeling of loneliness.

  ‘I’m sorry, perhaps I should have insisted you join me, but I didn’t think you would be interested in the marriage of an orphan from the workhouse and an Irish girl from Greenhill.’

  Georgina sank down in a chair. ‘Everyone seems to be avoiding me, even dear Eynon. What have I done wrong?’

  The maid came into the room with a tray and set it on one of the small tables. Llinos noticed that there were two cups and grimaced inwardly.

  ‘I see you are going to join me for tea.’ She heard the cold tone in her voice and swallowed hard. It was ungracious of her, she should at least make an effort to be civil to Georgina.