by Iris Gower
Llinos rubbed her hands along her skirt to smooth out the creases. ‘Oh, I’ve seen evil all right, Father. You forget I lived with Mr Cimla. I saw him beat Binnie to within an inch of his life and in the end it was Mr Cimla who caused my mother’s death.’
Lloyd was silent for a long time. He looked up to her then, his eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m sorry. I’m being selfish, of course, you must live your own life. I’m not denying that but you must think about your future very carefully, my dear.’
He looked up at her, his face twisted with pain. ‘All I ask is that you don’t turn your back on me, not now, Llinos, I’m so worried, so alone.’
‘Of course I won’t turn my back on you, Father. Joe and I’ll stay and help you sort out your problems, won’t we, Joe?’
Lloyd turned his face away from her. ‘You can’t expect me to welcome as your husband the man who was only my batman.’ He spoke in a low voice. ‘He served me, waited on me, polished my boots, cooked my meals. Apart from being a foreigner, Joe is a menial.’
‘Father!’ she said, aghast. ‘How can you talk like that about the man who saved your life?’ Both men remained silent and looking into Joe’s eyes Llinos knew he was not going to speak up in his own defence.
‘I need Joe,’ she said softly. ‘I love him, Father. We will be married as soon as possible, take it or leave it.’
Lloyd sighed heavily. ‘He can stay here with us, of course. I realize that you think you love him and want to marry him.’ He reached out and she went to him.
‘Just promise me this, that you’ll wait a little while, that you’ll help me to get my life back into some sort of order.’
‘I don’t know if I can promise you that, Father.’ Llinos tried to smother her anger. Her father did not know what he was asking. Her whole being ached to belong to Joe, to lie with him, to be his wife.
She looked at her father. He had grown old, old and frightened. ‘I just don’t know. I feel torn, do you understand that? Tom between the two men I love.’ She moved towards the door.
‘I’m going to my room. I think I can find it without help from anyone, thank you,’ she added, as her father lifted his hand to the bell. She hurried through the hall and up the familiar stairs. The woodwork was polished, the carpet was freshly brushed. But Llinos could see nothing for the tears that blinded her.
Joe stared out of the window at the throbbing heat of the kilns and tried to be calm. He had been installed in a large, cold back bedroom. It was comfortable enough but it marked his place in the scheme of things as Lloyd saw them. He was a foreigner, a half-breed and second best was good enough for him.
Joe moved the narrow bed and flung himself down, his arms beneath his head. The door opened and Llinos entered the room, frowning as she looked around her.
‘Joe, I’m sorry about . . . well, about everything.’
He did not speak. He was tempted to just get to his feet and walk out of her life for ever, he seemed to bring her nothing but tears and unhappiness.
He lay back, his eyes closed as if to shut her out, and he felt the depression in the bumpy mattress as she sank down beside him.
‘Joe, look at me. In the morning, I shall find out exactly what has been going on.’ She spoke briskly now and he knew she was hurt by his lack of response. He could read her thoughts. Joe, patient, wise Joe, would wait for ever. Well, would he?
‘My father is an old man, you can see he’s in pain and his very livelihood is threatened. I can’t just think of myself now, can I?’
He remained silent, this was something she must work out for herself if she was to grow. After a moment, she rose and left the room, closing the door with a thud behind her. Joe stared up at the light glancing across the ceiling and thought with longing about clear rivers and rich grasslands and the wide open spaces of America.
‘So Binnie didn’t come home after all.’ Maura’s voice was low, tear-filled. Eynon tried to think of something comforting to say but failed.
Eynon was sitting with Llinos in the small drawing-room and in that instant he was angry with her. Maura stood before him, her shoulders slumped, and as he looked into her eyes he saw the tears welling over. He coughed to hide his embarrassment.
Damn Llinos! Her impetuous behaviour had acted as a spur to Binnie to leave his wife, sometimes Llinos could be so irresponsible. Now it was left to Eynon to explain matters to Maura.
‘Binnie has remained behind in America, he intends to find work there. I expect he’ll send for you when he’s set up.’
Maura looked at him and he could see she did not believe a word he said. ‘I’ll get you some tea, sir. Shall I bring it into the drawing-room?’
‘Yes, please, Maura.’
Llinos was playing with a necklace that hung against her pale skin. She looked very beautiful, flushed from her walk across the valley. Eynon ached with despair, how could he love her so much knowing she felt nothing for him?
‘Eynon, I’m sorry, it wasn’t pleasant for you breaking the news to Maura.’ She held out her hand and he took it. Her fingers were slender and delicate and yet she could wedge and mould clay with the strongest of workers. She was a remarkable woman but she needed to grow up, face facts. If she married Joe she would never be accepted in polite society.
‘Will you go back to America?’ he asked, looking out through the window, trying not to see how lovely she was.
‘One day, perhaps. Eynon, look at me.’ Her voice trembled and suddenly, she appeared vulnerable.
‘Eynon, I seem to be hurting everyone but I love Joe and I will be with him, whatever happens.’
Eynon shrugged without speaking. Llinos changed the subject abruptly and the moment of intimacy vanished.
‘My father is in trouble, someone is buying up the land around the Savage Pottery. Any idea who it could be?’
‘My father, who else?’
‘Eynon! Why should it be your father?’
‘It has his stamp, he can’t bear to see anyone content and happy. He’s had Father Martin sent away just because we were friends. Oh, yes, he’s the one out to ruin the Savage Pottery, no doubt about it.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Llinos said. ‘Your father has riches enough and he has the wonderful recipes for porcelain. I’m sure he’s far too busy to concern himself with the land around our pottery.’
She was so sweet, so trusting, and in some ways so immature. Had she learned nothing from her years of hardship? How could he warn her about his father when she did not want to listen?
‘I’ll be moving near to Martin’s parish soon,’ he said, ‘that will annoy my father, show him he does not always get his own way.’
‘Oh, Eynon, I’ll be so sorry to see you leave Swansea.’ Her beautiful eyes, dark and mysterious, stared into his. Something had changed between them, he was on edge with her. The old ease of their friendship had gone.
‘I doubt that, you managed quite well without me while you were in America.’
‘That was different,’ she said. ‘It was only a temporary arrangement.’ She leaned forward, the beads swinging against the sweetness of her breasts.
‘What’s happened to you? The gentle, kind Eynon I knew is gone. You’ve become cynical.’
‘I haven’t changed my feelings for you, Llinos,’ he said softly.
She rose and hugged him, her cheek against his and he felt his gut turn to water. Soon, she would marry Joe. He should be happy for her but all he felt was pain.
‘This is a pretty scene, I feel quite envious of you, Eynon.’ His father’s voice was like a deluge of cold water. Eynon tensed but he made an effort to act normally as he drew away from Llinos.
‘You don’t believe in being announced, do you, Father?’ He felt the words choke in his throat as Llinos greeted Philip warmly, taking his hands in hers.
‘It’s good to be back among my friends,’ she said. ‘How are you, Philip?’
‘Very well, my dear.’ He held her away from him. ‘And you are more beaut
iful than ever. Send for some more tea, Eynon. I would like to join you, that’s if I’m not intruding.’
‘Of course you are not intruding,’ Llinos said cheerily and moved to accommodate him on the sofa beside her.
‘I have news for you, son.’ Philip rested his arm along the back of the sofa. ‘I’ve managed to get your friend Martin the most wonderful advantage.’
‘Really, Father? What could that be?’ Eynon felt cold, his father was ruthless. He manipulated everyone and somehow got away with it. It was amazing that Llinos could not see through him.
‘He’s to go to work in London, in one of the big churches there. It’s one of the greatest honours any young man could hope for.’
‘I see.’ Eynon was aware of Llinos looking at him sympathetically. She leaned past Philip and rested her hand on Eynon’s arm.
‘Oh, Eynon, I know it’s disappointing for you but I’m sure you’re happy for Martin.’
‘Yes, very happy.’ Eynon spoke listlessly. His father had dangled a juicy carrot before Martin’s eyes and he had taken it.
‘I’ll just ask Maura to make fresh tea.’ Llinos left the room and Philip sat back, his lean face full of amusement.
‘Let that be a lesson to you, boy. Everyone has a price.’
‘So you keep telling me.’ Eynon was suddenly tired. His father could control any situation and turn it to his own advantage. Eynon was beginning to think that the only escape from his father was the grave.
‘Don’t look so down-hearted, son.’ Philip rested his hand on Eynon’s shoulder. ‘I shall always take care of you, you know that.’
Eynon looked at his father in surprise before he realized that Llinos was in the doorway, Maura following her carrying a tray. His father was clever, Eynon gave him that.
He sat up straighter, fighting a battle against a rush of anger and losing. ‘Right,’ he said in a hard voice, ‘let’s all have a cup of tea and a jolly chat, shall we? Tell us, Father, who have you got it in for this week? Whose reputation are you going to ruin just to amuse yourself?’
He was aware of Llinos, her eyes wide with reproach, but he no longer cared. ‘Damn you, Father!’ He stood up and stared at his father for a long moment before leaving the room.
He hated his father, hated his own flesh and blood, surely that was wrong? Well, the hate was there and would not go away. It was about time he found some courage and stopped trying to run away from his father, about time he stood up to him instead.
Suddenly, he felt released, free of the tyranny his father had imposed on him all these years. His father had interfered once too often and Eynon was tired of it. Now it was time to plan his revenge.
‘I must apologize for my son’s behaviour, Llinos. Perhaps you will allow me to take you home in my carriage.’
‘That’s very kind but I think I would enjoy the walk, Philip.’
‘Llinos, you have not allowed my son to influence you against me, surely?’
‘No, of course not.’ Llinos spoke the truth, she had seen the caring way Philip had rested his hand on his son’s shoulder. Seen the pain in his eyes when he broke the news about Father Martin. He had expected praise from his son and instead he had received a rebuke.
‘I don’t know what’s wrong with Eynon lately,’ Philip said thoughtfully. ‘I try to make him happy but he is a strange boy. I suppose it’s all my fault.’
Llinos shook her head. ‘No, it isn’t.’ How could it be Philip’s fault? He had given his son every advantage. He was allowing him to live his own life where some fathers, her own included, wanted to dictate to their children.
‘Did I do wrong getting Father Martin the post in the city?’ Philip sounded wistful. ‘I thought I was giving the young man a helping hand. I just don’t understand, all I want is for Eynon to be proud of me, to be happy.’
Llinos took his hand. ‘Don’t be troubled, Philip, I’m sure everything will sort itself out.’
‘You’re right, of course you are. Now, tell me about your adventure. I understand from Eynon that you actually got married in America.’
Llinos smiled. ‘Well, I did get married according to the laws of the Mandan Indians. However, Joe and I are going to have a proper church wedding when the time is right.’
‘And Joe, is he not jealous of your friendship with Eynon?’
‘No, he’s not, Joe feels only liking and respect for Eynon.’
‘Well, that’s very tolerant of him.’ Philip leaned towards her. ‘Llinos, are you really going to marry this man, this Indian fellow? It’s not too late to change your mind. I’m sure you could make a highly successful marriage if you wished, one that would be accepted in polite society.’
‘I don’t give a fig for “polite society”, I only want to be happy.’
Philip looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Your father, what does he say about it all?’
She shrugged. ‘Well, he’s not pleased. So I have made up my mind to spend a little time with him before I marry Joe. I’ll try to persuade Father that what I’m doing is right.’
‘Very noble, my dear.’
Llinos touched his arm. ‘Could you tell me something, Philip?’
‘I will if I can, my dear.’
‘Do you know who is buying up the land surrounding the pottery?’
Philip’s eyebrows rose. ‘Buying up the land, whatever for? Nothing will grow on it for years, it’s worse than useless. A man would have to be a fool to throw away good money like that.’
Llinos congratulated herself that she had been right. Whoever was hedging her father in, trying to ruin his business, it was not Philip Morton-Edwards.
‘Still, that’s what’s happening. Could you try to find out about it for me, please?’
‘I’ll do my best but these lawyer chaps are sticklers for keeping their noses clean. Confidentiality and all that.’
Llinos sighed. ‘I’d better get back, my father is a lonely man these days. He depends on me more and more.’
Philip nodded. ‘I know and you are a very dutiful daughter. Take care of yourself, Llinos. You have shadows under your eyes that tell me you are not altogether happy.’
At the gates to Eynon’s house, Llinos turned and waved to Philip. There was no sign of Eynon. She sighed and began to walk towards home.
Maura folded the bedsheets with angry stabs of her fingers. The linen smelled fresh and clean but she did not notice. She was angry, very angry. If Llinos Savage had not interfered in her life Binnie would be home where he belonged, supporting his wife and child.
She put the sheets away in the drawer of the huge chest on the landing and then returned to the kitchen.
The cook looked over her shoulder. ‘Better keep an eye on the babe, she looks flushed to me.’
Maura had left her daughter on a thick blanket on the floor. The little girl had been sleepy all morning but Maura had thought nothing of it.
‘Oh, Cookie, look, Bridget’s got spots all over her.’
The cook bent over the child and frowned. ‘Looks like the measles,’ she said.
All at once, the sounds of the pots boiling on the stove, the clatter of cutlery as Jessie the kitchen maid cut up the vegetables for dinner, faded into the background.
Maura felt a cold fear grip her. Measles was bad, she had seen the epidemics of it when she lived at Greenhill. Most children died of the sickness.
But her baby had not been anywhere near Greenhill. Bridget lived in clean surroundings, ate good food. How could she have caught the disease? Cookie must be wrong, she had to be wrong.
‘Go see Mr Eynon,’ Cook said. ‘Ask him if we can have the doctor. I’ll get the baby up to bed.’
Eynon was slow in responding to her knock and Maura waited outside his door in a fever of impatience. As soon as she saw him the words poured from her lips.
‘Mr Eynon, the baby’s right poorly, Cook thinks Bridget’s got the measles, she says we should have a doctor.’
‘I’ll get one of the boys to ride into town to fetc
h Dr Rogers or if he’s out one of the other doctors will come, don’t worry. And, Maura, remember, little children are up and down, one minute they’re sick, the next they are fine again.’
It seemed an eternity before the doctor arrived. He looked into Bridget’s mouth and touched her brow and examined the spots on her plump belly without a word. Maura waited anxiously for him to say something.
‘Yes, it’s measles, I’m afraid. The child must be kept in complete isolation. Build up the fire, cover her up with blankets, sweat the fever out of her.’
A cold chill gripped Maura. She wanted Binnie desperately, wanted the only other human being on earth who had any part in bringing the baby into the world. But her husband was on the other side of the ocean.
It was the early hours of the morning when Maura woke from a restless sleep. The room was silent, the candle had flickered and died. Maura lit it with shaking fingers. The baby was quiet, the hoarse breathing had ceased. Maura screamed and ran in a frenzy down the stairs, hammering on Eynon’s door.
He came at once. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Eynon, the baby isn’t breathing, I’m so frightened.’
Maura followed Eynon across the landing and up the small stairs to the servants’ rooms. Cook was already there, a bonnet tied askew on her grey hair. As she stood aside for Eynon to go into the bedroom she was shaking her head.
‘Bridget!’ Maura fell on her knees beside the bed. ‘My little girl, look at mama, come on, now, open your eyes.’
Maura began to cry. ‘Why isn’t Binnie here?’ She looked up at Eynon. ‘He’s always run away from his responsibilities. It’s all the fault of that Llinos Savage, her and her big ideas! I hate her. Oh, sweet Jesus, spare my baby!’
It was Eynon who drew her away and tried to calm her. Maura wanted to say some prayers but they had become a jumble in her mind. She looked towards the bed, at Bridget’s face. It was pale, serene and beautiful.
‘My baby,’ she mumbled, her tongue suddenly cleaving to the roof of her mouth. ‘My baby.’
‘There, there,’ Cook said gently, ‘the little one’s gone to a better place.’