Firebird

by Iris Gower

  ‘What’s wrong, Llinos, why have you come?’

  ‘What’s wrong? Don’t you know? I’m surprised you haven’t heard the noise from here,’ Llinos said. ‘People are being evicted from their homes, furniture thrown into the street.’ She sank into a chair and twisted her hands together in her lap.

  ‘My father’s going out of his mind with worry. What is happening to us, Philip, why are you doing this?’

  Philip sat opposite her. ‘It’s my cousin Catherine,’ he said, ‘she’s old, confused. I’ll try to speak to her again, get her to see sense.’

  Llinos looked at him, wondering whether to believe him or not. ‘It’s urgent, Philip, our stocks of clay and coal are almost gone, we’ve laid off most of the workers. We are going under. At this rate we’ll soon be bankrupt.’

  ‘Surely not. Your young man, I understand he is a man of some means, can’t he help you?’

  ‘He’s not returned from England. In any case, if he gave us money for supplies, we couldn’t bring them in.’

  Philip rubbed at his chin. He was silent for a long time and then he looked at Llinos. ‘I can’t offer much hope for the tenants of the houses in the row but there is a solution to your problem.’

  ‘What solution?’ Llinos said suspiciously. She leaned forward. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I could buy the Savage Pottery. It’s adjacent to my own pottery. With a little readjustment I could combine the two premises and any goods and stock would enter and exit through my property.’

  He paused, frowning thoughtfully. ‘You would have to vacate the house, of course.’

  Llinos swallowed hard. ‘It’s a way out, I can see that, but it’s rather harsh, isn’t it, Philip?’

  Philip smiled. ‘Look, my dear, it was just an idea. Perhaps I don’t really want any more land; I have enough as it is.’

  Llinos swallowed hard. ‘I’ll put it to my father, see what he thinks.’ She sighed. ‘I’d better be going.’

  The door was pushed open and Llinos had the distinct impression that Georgina had been listening outside.

  ‘Oh, Philip, my darling, you really must not be so charming to the ladies,’ she gushed. ‘You don’t realize how handsome and captivating you can be.’ She slid her hand into his arm and looked at Llinos. ‘Does he?’

  ‘Thank you for your time,’ Llinos said, ignoring her. ‘I do hope I haven’t delayed you too long from your supper, Philip.’

  As she walked back across Philip’s land, her head was spinning. It could work. If Philip bought the Savage Pottery, she and her father would at least survive. She could rent a small house in town on the proceeds of the sale.

  Her father was sitting slumped in his chair. He looked up at her, his eyes dull. ‘We’re finished,’ he said. ‘It’s over, the Savage Pottery is no more.’

  Suddenly she felt weary. ‘Father,’ she said softly, ‘there is a way, we don’t have to lose everything.’

  ‘What way?’

  ‘We could sell the pottery.’

  ‘Oh, yes, and who would buy a pottery with no access to it by road? Don’t be foolish, girl.’

  ‘Listen, Father.’ She spoke more firmly now. ‘I’ve talked to Philip, he would buy the . . .’

  ‘Ha!’ Lloyd Savage glared at her. ‘I might have known! This is exactly what he wants, to do me out of my home and my livelihood. And you, girl, are stupid enough to be taken in by him.’

  Llinos swallowed her anger. ‘Perhaps it is all Philip’s fault. Perhaps he’s planned this down to every last detail but what choice do we have? We must sell.’

  He rubbed his eyes wearily. ‘I know you are right but I would burn the place to the ground rather than let that swine have it.’

  ‘Oh, Father!’ Llinos said impatiently. ‘It’s a solution, just think about it for a moment.’

  ‘You are so gullible girl,’ Lloyd said. ‘Oh, go away, leave me, I can’t think straight.’

  Llinos sighed, shaking her head and after a moment left him alone. It was dark in the hallway, the sun had finally set. She made her way slowly upstairs. In her bedroom, she stood in the window, staring out, trying to make sense of her muddled thoughts.

  Her father and Philip Morton-Edwards had always been rivals. Maybe her father and Eynon were right and she had been wrong about Philip all along?

  If only Joe was here. He was wise, he would hold her in his arms, kiss her, make her feel free and light, make her feel like a woman.

  She stretched out on top of the quilt, not even bothering to take off her shoes. Her mind ran round in circles as she tried to think of a way to save the pottery. But in the end, there was only the glaringly obvious solution, that they sell out to Philip Morton-Edwards.

  ‘You are a clever darling, aren’t you?’ Georgina sat beside Philip and leaned against his shoulder, staring up at him admiringly. Men, especially old men like Philip, were so susceptible to flattery.

  ‘Well, it was a master stroke, although I say it myself. I have got what I want at last, the land adjoining my pottery. Now the pottery will be the biggest one for miles around. Bigger even than some of the Staffordshire potteries. Yes, I am clever, aren’t I?’

  Georgina nuzzled her cheek against his. ‘And I am lucky, having such a wonderful man as you. I think I’ve been in love with you from the moment I saw you, Philip, darling.’ It was a blatant lie but Philip did not see through it. He took her hand and kissed it; he was like a grateful puppy but then she was bringing him a great deal of money. He would have not only a share of her fortune but the use of her lithe young body. For those privileges, he would pay dearly.

  Georgina knew she gave the impression that she was light-hearted without a brain in her head, but she had listened well to her father. Before he had died, he had taught her a great deal about people. He was a wise man, a man who had been a doctor and a philosopher. He showed her how she could hide some of her fortune in an account in Switzerland, the country of his birth.

  ‘Remember, when you marry, your fortune becomes the property of your husband,’ he had told her gravely. ‘But a husband cannot control what he does not know about.’

  Dear Papa, he had been the one man she could respect. Perhaps the only man she would ever love unconditionally. He would have congratulated her on her stroke of genius in persuading Philip to put the land around the Savage Pottery in her godmother’s name. The townspeople might know very well that Georgina Fairwater had come to stay in Swansea but no-one would pause to think that her godmother, Aunt Catherine, went by the name of Sanders. Thank heaven the old woman had taken to her bed early and had not been present when Llinos Savage arrived. Catherine was getting old and sometimes she let things slip that were best kept secret.

  ‘You are very quiet, my dear.’ Philip’s voice roused her from her reverie.

  ‘I was thinking how wonderful it will be when we are married,’ she lied. ‘How I long to be Mrs Morton-Edwards.’

  ‘And you will be, my dear, very soon.’

  ‘How soon, my darling?’

  Philip laughed and took her in his arms. ‘You are an eager young thing, aren’t you? But then, your blood is hot. I shall match your passion, my dear, I think you will find I’m as good a lover as any young buck.’

  She lowered her eyes. ‘You forget, Philip, I’m an innocent. I know nothing of men or of their passions.’

  She could have laughed out loud at her own audacity. She had taken a stable boy as her amusement when she was but fourteen years old.

  ‘I will teach you about love and I shall be a good teacher. You will bear me sons, strong healthy sons.’

  ‘But what about Eynon?’ Her eyes were round. ‘Much of his fortune is from his mother’s family, he will inherit everything, won’t he?’

  ‘Not if I can get around it. And I will, I swear I will. I will have him declared insane if I have to.’

  She was exultant, convinced now that she had been wise to follow her godmother’s advice. She would have Philip’s fortune to add to her own – eventually.


  ‘Shall we set a date for our wedding, darling?’ she asked, rubbing her fingertips over the back of his hand. He took her in his arms and kissed her lingeringly. She was surprised at his ardour. Well, it was something she would encourage. If he overexerted himself so much the better. His early demise would be very gratifying. As for Eynon, the weak-kneed fop, let him rot in Bedlam for all she cared. Though, come to think of it, there might just be a better way of getting rid of him, she must ponder on it.

  As Philip’s hand strayed to her breast, she pushed him gently.

  ‘No, my darling, we mustn’t get carried away. We must be properly married before . . .’ She tried to force some colour into her cheeks . . . ‘you know.’

  ‘My dear little Georgina, you are an innocent. Very well, I will make the arrangements for our marriage to take place as soon as possible.’

  She buried her face against his shoulder. ‘I’m so happy, my darling.’ She smiled to herself; She had Philip just where she wanted him. Her little tricks had trapped him. He had seen past her rather ordinary face and glimpsed the magnificent figure beneath her clothes. And that was all she had allowed him, a glimpse. If he wanted to taste her fruits, he would have to put a ring on her finger first.

  ‘I’m sure there has been some mistake.’ Abbot sat behind his desk fiddling nervously with a sheaf of papers.

  ‘I hope so.’ Joe spoke affably. ‘Mistakes can be rectified.’ He sat back in his chair and waited. He could see the sweat break out on the other man’s brow. The silence lengthened, still Joe waited. He had learned as a child that the best way to stalk a prey was in silence.

  ‘I will investigate the matter as soon as possible,’ Abbot said at last. Joe sat immovable. Abbot coughed.

  ‘If you will leave the matter with me, I’ll look into it,’ he said.

  Joe rose slowly and stood staring down at the man. His shirt was frayed and spotted with the remains of his breakfast. His hair was in need of attention. He was as shabby as his surroundings.

  ‘Just bring me the money my sisters gave you.’ Joe leaned against the door. He had no intention of leaving.

  ‘But I’ll have to speak to the bank – there are formalities in a case like this.’

  ‘I’ll wait here.’

  Abbot looked around him, it was clear he was worried about leaving Joe alone in the office. He rose to his feet, he was still uncertain.

  ‘If you could come back in, say . . . an hour, perhaps?’

  ‘No.’ Joe folded his arms across his chest. He could have smiled at the dismay on Abbot’s face.

  ‘Oh, very well.’ Abbot moved from behind his desk, keeping a safe distance from Joe. ‘I’ll be back.’

  ‘Come alone. If you have anyone with you, that crooked solicitor, for instance, I’ll hit you first and then ask questions.’

  Abbot darted out and Joe watched him as he scurried along the street. He had no illusions about the man. He probably had no intention of returning, at least not until Joe had given up waiting and left.

  Joe began to make a systematic search of the office. Quickly and efficiently he opened drawers and cupboards finding only layer upon layer of dusty papers.

  He paused and looked around him. Abbot must hide his money somewhere, he was not the sort of man to use the services of a bank.

  High on the wall was a long clock. It was covered in dust and clearly had not worked in years. Joe took a chair and stood on it and lifted the clock from its robust hangings. The back was screwed into place and was obviously an addition to the original casing.

  Joe drew a knife from his belt and set to work on the screws. They were not tightly threaded and it was an easy job to remove the back from the clock.

  He lifted out of the false back of the clock four leather pouches and put them on the desk. He had found Abbot’s hoard of money.

  Joe took only the amount that Abbot had tricked out of the two sisters. He had no doubt that the rest of the money represented ill-gotten gains and, on an impulse, he took the pouches into the street and began to scatter the gold coins into the roadway.

  It took no time at all for folk to gather round, picking up the coins and hiding them away in pockets and gloves and bags. As the last pouch was emptied, Joe saw Abbot appear at the edge of the crowd, his dark brows raised in curiosity. When he saw what Joe was doing, he howled like a wounded animal and tried to dash into the centre of the crowd.

  He was pushed back and Joe walked to where Abbot stood, tears dripping down his red face.

  ‘Have any luck in the bank?’ he said, and Abbot lunged towards him, his hands raised like claws. Joe easily side-stepped him and Abbot fell into the dust bawling like a baby.

  Joe, with one last look at the pathetic Abbot, mounted his horse and made for home. When he handed the money to Letitia she looked up at him questioningly.

  ‘Keep it, put it aside in case you might need it. It took a bit of persuading for Abbot to part with it, but I convinced him in the end.’

  ‘Well done.’ Letitia was a woman of few words but those words made Joe smile.

  Later, they sat down to a hot supper. Letitia looked across the table at Joe and took a deep breath.

  ‘You will be leaving for home soon?’ She regarded him steadily. ‘I will be sorry to see you go.’

  ‘You have read my mind. It’s about time I left.’

  ‘Marry the girl,’ Letitia said bluntly. ‘If you know she’s the one for you then nothing else matters.’

  Joe smiled. ‘Will you come to the wedding?’

  It was Charlotte who answered. ‘Oh, Joe, a wedding, try keeping us away!’

  It was early the next morning when Joe set out for Swansea. The mists were rising from the river, spiralling upwards to a leaden sky. But he felt light-hearted, he was going home. To Llinos.

  ‘Father’s gone to a meeting, I can’t help thinking there will be trouble,’ said Llinos.

  She was sitting with Eynon in the parlour of Pottery House. A cheerful fire crackled in the grate and outside the wind lifted the branches of the old oak trees. Sitting in the corner, silently sewing, sat Celia, her thin figure hunched into a shawl.

  He took Llinos’s hand. ‘Listen to me, you don’t realize what a dangerous man my father is.’

  ‘Surely not dangerous, Eynon. I’m willing to concede that he might be devious, crooked even but not dangerous.’ She paused. ‘I’m surprised I haven’t heard from him in the last few days.’

  ‘He’s gone to London with Georgina. They are to be married there with a great deal of pomp and ceremony, I understand.’

  ‘How does that affect you, Eynon?’

  ‘It means I will have two enemies wanting to be rid of me instead of one.’

  ‘But what good would it do anyone to “get rid of you” as you call it?’

  ‘Silly, innocent Llinos. I’m worth quite a bit of money. My father and his sweet little bride want their hands on it. What’s more, with me out of the way, Georgina’s sons would inherit Father’s estate.’

  Llinos rubbed her eyes. ‘I can’t believe that anyone could be so wicked, Eynon.’

  Eynon shook his head. ‘Believe it! My father sent two men to England after Joe.’

  ‘Joe?’ Her throat was suddenly dry. ‘But why?’

  ‘He believes Joe is with me in the deal to buy the land behind the pottery.’

  ‘Did they hurt him? Is Joe all right?’

  Eynon smiled. ‘I’m sure he is. In any event the men came running back to Swansea with their tails between their legs. Oh, don’t worry, Joe can look after himself.’

  Llinos heard the crunch of wheels on the ground outside and inwardly braced herself.

  ‘Father’s back from the meeting at the inn.’ She moved to the door. ‘If the people of the row find out that your family is behind the evictions, they’ll be out for blood.’

  ‘I know,’ Eynon said. ‘But Aunt Catherine is just a cover, a name to hide behind. I doubt she realizes half of what’s going on under her nose.
’

  The door opened and Lloyd was wheeled into the room by one of the men from the row.

  ‘Lovely fire you got there, Miss Savage.’ Jim Cooper pushed the chair near the blaze. The smell of ale was heavy in the small room.

  ‘We’ve come to an agreement,’ Lloyd said, holding his hands out to the blaze. ‘We are not going to take this lying down.’

  ‘What can we do, Father?’ Llinos asked. It was Jim who replied.

  ‘We are going to man the roadway, day and night,’ he said. ‘We’ll make sure that the pots get out and the supplies get in. We are not going to be done out of our homes and our jobs by some scum with more money than sense.’

  ‘Here! Here!’ Celia said loudly. ‘The womenfolk will be right with you, don’t you worry.’

  ‘Won’t you be breaking the law?’ Llinos asked worriedly.

  ‘We have to do something, Llinos. We can’t just sit on our backsides and make no protest while our living is destroyed.’

  ‘I’ll be behind you all the way, Lloyd.’ Eynon was leaning forward eagerly. ‘My father has blocked the building on the land behind the pottery for the time being, but I have money enough to pay lawyers and I will. It’s about time justice was done.’

  ‘Good lad.’ Lloyd held out his hand and Eynon shook it. ‘Tomorrow,’ Lloyd continued, ‘the men are returning to work. Anyone who uses violence will be met by violence.’

  ‘Father, are you sure that’s wise?’ Llinos pulled her chair close to his.

  ‘It’s a question of survival, Llinos,’ Lloyd said. ‘We have our pride and we intend to fight. If we fail at least we can say we tried.’ He touched her hair. His voice softened. ‘Anything is better than sitting around doing nothing.’

  ‘I know we have to do something, Father,’ Llinos said, ‘but are you sure this is the right way to tackle the problem?’

  ‘What other way is there?’

  Llinos knew by the set of her father’s face that he would not be shifted from his purpose. Her heart sank, why were men so intractable?

  Eynon rose. ‘It’s time I was getting back home.’ Jim Cooper took his cue from Eynon.

  ‘Aye, me too, I’ll see you in the morning, Captain Savage, bright and early.’