Briony watched conflicting emotions flit across her grandmother’s face. She was clearly used to being obeyed but then her face softened again and she told him, ‘Very well then, dear. But perhaps you could come back and speak to me and your grandfather later on?’
He sniffed and lowered his eyes as Briony turned and led the children towards the door. They were almost there when her grandmother said, ‘Oh, and by the way, girl. It will be your job to keep the children quiet and under control. Your grandfather is not in good health and I do not want him disturbed. Do you understand?’
‘I understand perfectly.’ Briony’s eyes were as cold as her grandmother’s. ‘And my name is Briony, not girl.’ And with that she marched from the room as her grandmother gaped after her.
‘It is just as I feared,’ Mrs Frasier muttered to her husband once they were alone. ‘Headstrong, impudent – just like her mother. I think we are going to have trouble with that one!’
He grinned, showing her a flash of the man he had once been. ‘Give her a chance and don’t be too hard on her, Marion,’ he said gently. ‘After all, she can’t help looking like her father – and she didn’t ask to be born, did she?’
‘No, she didn’t, William, and she wouldn’t have been, had it not been for that common lout turning our daughter’s head.’
‘Well, lout or not he’s done a very good job of bringing up his children. I thought they were all quite charming.’
Marion Frasier was so shocked at him standing up to her that she was momentarily speechless.
*
‘I don’t think I’m going to like it ’ere after all,’ Alfie whined as they stepped back out into the bright sunshine. ‘An’ I don’t think Grandmother likes us although Grandfather seemed all right.’
‘Oh, you just have to give them a bit of time to get used to us,’ Briony told him, keeping her voice light. ‘Don’t forget, it’s strange for them too having us here.’
‘Grandmother said I was truly my mother’s daughter. What did she mean, Briony?’ the little girl piped up. Her bottom lip was trembling and Briony could see that she might burst into tears at any moment.
‘She just meant that you look just like our mum,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Which is a nice thing. But now what would you like to do? It’s a wonderful day and it would be a shame to waste it. We don’t have to be back for lunch for ages.’
‘Go to the beach,’ the children cried in unison, just as she had expected.
She smiled at them fondly. ‘I think we’ll save that treat for tomorrow, but for now how about we go for a walk into Penzance? We couldn’t really see it properly when we arrived last night, and I wouldn’t mind betting there’ll be some boats in the harbour.’
Alfie was instantly all for it so they began to walk down the long drive away from the house with the children in a slightly happier frame of mind. The same couldn’t be said for Briony, however, although she was determined to keep her fears to herself. The children were unsettled enough as it was, so the way she saw it, it was up to her to make sure that they were as happy as they could be for as long as they were there. She would take care to keep them out of their grandmother’s way as much as possible. Deep inside she was stinging at the way the woman had looked at her and spoken to her, and her hopes of settling the children and returning home to her mother were already beginning to fade. But Grandfather didn’t seem so bad, she consoled herself. Perhaps she would find an ally in him? She could only hope so.
Penzance was even more beautiful than it had appeared the night before, and as they walked around the narrow cobbled streets the children felt as if they were in another world. The little thatched cottages were so picturesque, and the people seemed friendly too, smiling at them and calling a greeting as these young strangers passed. It was so peaceful here, it was hard to believe there was a war on. They came to the High Street and walked past rows of tiny shops displaying their wares in the windows. There was a sweet shop full of big glass jars of sweets of every shape and size, and bars of chocolate and trays of home-made toffee. No shortages here! Briony promised the children that she would remember to bring some money with her the next time they came so that she could treat them, and was rewarded with two beaming smiles. Next to that was a butcher’s. Sarah wasn’t so keen on that shop after seeing the rabbits hanging in the window, so they hurriedly moved on. There was a baker’s, and the smell of fresh-baked loaves and cakes made their mouths water; then came a hardware shop full of buckets and mops and everyday things. Further along the street was a blacksmith’s – and then they came to a shop with Frasier & Sons on a swinging sign above a window in which stood a huge bowl of fresh flowers.
‘This must be Grandfather’s undertaking business,’ Briony muttered, and shuddered. It was hard to believe on such a beautiful day that beyond the window, dead people could be lying, waiting to be buried. Glancing up, she saw a quaint church with stained-glass windows that twinkled in the sunshine. It was surrounded by a large churchyard and Briony made a mental note to go and visit it just as soon as she could.
The three hurried on and came to an inn where some elderly men sat outside on a bench with pints of beer, smoking their pipes beneath the shade of a huge oak tree. The men touched their caps and smiled pleasantly at the three youngsters as they passed and they all smiled a greeting in return. The smell of the sea was growing stronger with every step they took, and as they emerged from the end of a cobbled lane there, spread before them, was a small harbour with boats of all shapes and sizes bobbing gently on a crystal-clear blue sea. A number of ruddy-faced seamen from the fishing boats were unloading their catch and the visitors gazed in awe at the huge buckets of fish, some of them still wriggling in protest. Women were sitting repairing large nets on the quay and the children were so fascinated by the scene that it was all Briony could do to eventually drag them away.
Suddenly nothing seemed quite so bad any more, and Briony determined to make the best of their stay in Cornwall.
Chapter Fifteen
By the time the children had climbed the hill back to Poldak, Mrs Dower was busily preparing a cooked lunch, and after the long walk in the fresh air they sniffed at the aroma appreciatively.
‘I’m making you all a steak and kidney pie and some nice fresh vegetables out of the garden to go with it today,’ she told them cheerily as she stood at the table rolling pastry.
‘It smells delicious,’ Briony said sincerely, glancing curiously at a young woman who was standing at the sink peeling carrots.
Mrs Dower followed her eyes. ‘This is Talwyn,’ she said. ‘My granddaughter. She usually stays at the farm doing odd jobs there, but she wanted to meet you all so I let her come along with me today.’
The girl turned, and Briony thought how very beautiful she was. She looked to be in her early twenties and was quite striking, with long, dark-brown hair and the largest brown eyes that Briony had ever seen. Her hair curled down her back with golden glints shining in it where it had been kissed by the sun, and she had dimpled cheeks and a very sweet, shy smile.
‘Why do your grandchildren live with you?’ Briony asked and then immediately wished that she hadn’t. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, as a blush rose to her cheeks. ‘It’s really none of my business, is it?’
‘It’s all right, my lovely.’ Mrs Dower’s hands became still and a look of great sadness clouded her face. ‘It’s no secret, everyone hereabouts knows why. The thing is, my son Peder – Talwyn and Howel’s father – was killed in an accident when my daughter-in-law, Gwen, was carrying their second child. Gwen was six months’ gone at the time, and the shock of losing Peder sent her into early labour. It was touch and go for a time whether the baby would survive. Sadly, her mother died shortly after the birth so me and Caden were left to bring the two children up. The family lived at Chapel Farm – the other farm that you asked about last night.’ She gave a gusty sigh. ‘It was such a happy place. After that the Kerricks lived there for a time, but it’s stood empty since then, and
Talwyn – well . . .’ she glanced towards the girl who had returned to peeling the carrots. ‘She’s a little bit slow . . . if you get my drift. The doctor reckons it was because she was born too soon. But she’s a good-hearted girl for all that, and I wouldn’t be without her, though we have to keep a close eye on her. There’s those that could take advantage of a girl like her, and the fact that she’s such a lovely-looking maid doesn’t help.’ She sighed again, then went back to rolling the pastry.
Briony was saddened. Talwyn was so lovely, and just by looking at her it was hard to believe that there was anything wrong with her.
‘And how did your first meeting with your grandparents go then?’ Mrs Dower asked, to change the subject. Seeing the girl’s face drop gave her the answer she had been expecting.
‘Not so good, to be honest.’ Briony sat down at the table and rested her chin on her hand. ‘Grandmother clearly didn’t take to me or Sarah, but she did seem smitten with Alfie.’
‘Ah well, that’ll be ’cos he’s the spit of Master Sebastian. Always was her favourite,’ Mrs Dower said, loading the pastry into a dish and trimming it. ‘Spoiled him rotten when he was a kid, she did – and now she’s reaping the rewards.’ Between you and me,’ she went on, ‘she never did pay your mum much attention. Lois was always much closer to her father.’
‘Yes, Mum did tell me that her mother favoured her brother,’ Briony admitted. After the picture that had been painted of him she was almost dreading meeting Sebastian, although she knew she would have to, sooner or later.
‘Oh, you might be pleasantly surprised. He’s a good-looking chap and he’s got the gift of the gab. Problem is, he’s not to be trusted.’
‘But why does he keep disappearing off to London?’
‘He says he’s going to collect coffins.’ The housekeeper rolled her eyes. ‘Since old Mr Tollet the coffin-maker in the village died, that’s the only way he can get them. He brings them back in a big van a dozen at a time, and stores them in the barn; the one that’s locked up. But between you and me, I reckon he’s a bit of a gambler and all. I think his mother has had to bail him out of his debts more than once, although the master wouldn’t know about it. She tends to hold the purse-strings since Master William took bad, bless him. Your grandfather is a gentleman, and he’d have a fit if he knew half of what his son gets up to. Not so very long ago, a young maid from the village turned up here saying she was carrying his child, and when she told him, he dropped her like a hot potato! And she wasn’t the first, may I add.’
‘Really?’ Briony’s eyes stretched wide, ‘So what happened?’
‘Huh! I reckon the missus must have paid her off, ’cos next thing you know she’s disappeared and she hasn’t been heard of since. Fair broke her mum and dad’s heart, it did. She never even told them where she was going.’
‘Poor girl,’ Briony muttered with feeling. She couldn’t begin to imagine how awful it must have been for her to be cast aside and left to bear the burden of shame on her own. Mrs Dower bustled away then to fetch the meat she had cooked for the pie, and when she came back, Briony said, ‘Grandmother has told me that once Sarah and Alfie are at school I’m to help you about the house and garden. You will tell me what you want me to do, won’t you, Mrs Dower?’
Mrs Dower frowned. ‘Doesn’t seem right that you should have to work,’ she said. ‘You’re family!’
‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ Briony said truthfully. ‘I’m used to working. I worked in the offices at Woolworths back at home as well as helping my mum about the house. And I’d get bored if I had nothing to do, so I’m quite happy with the arrangement.’
‘Well, an extra pair of hands would come in very nicely,’ Mrs Dower admitted, but she still didn’t think it was right.
‘I could start now, if you like?’ Briony offered, but Mrs Dower shook her head.
‘No, there’ll be no need for that. You have a few days to settle in and get to know your way about first. The children should start at school next week and that’ll be plenty soon enough to pitch in and help. In the meantime I’ll have a word with the mistress about her giving you a small wage each week. ’Tis only fair. She’d have to pay if she could get someone in from the village, so leave it with me.’
Briony chewed on her lip but didn’t say anything. Her grandmother clearly had no time for her as it was, and she just hoped that Mrs Dower asking her for wages wouldn’t make things worse. Not that the money wouldn’t come in handy. There were bound to be things that the children would need and her small amount of savings wouldn’t last for long.
They enjoyed a delicious meal and when it was done Briony insisted on helping with the washing-up again. She had spoken to Talwyn by then and realised what Mrs Dower had said about her was right. The girl was very quiet and there was a vacant expression in her eyes. She also had a terrible stutter which made it very hard to understand her even when she did speak.
‘Can we go down to the beach now?’ the children asked when the pots were dried and put away.
‘I think that’s an excellent idea,’ Mrs Dower beamed at them, ‘In fact, I’ll pack you up a crowst so as you don’t have to rush back. Best make the most of the weather now, ’cos when it turns, it can get really bad here.’
‘Er, what’s a crowst?’ Briony asked, looking confused.
Mrs Dower chuckled. ‘Sorry, my lovely. I forgot you’re not from these parts. I think you call a crowst a picnic in your neck of the woods.’
‘Cor, that’d be lovely,’ Alfie said. He had wonderful memories of times when he had gone on a picnic with his family back at home. Sometimes his mum would pack a basket and they would go to Hartshill Hayes or tramp across the fields through Galley Common and on to Ansley. They had used to pick wild flowers on the way back for his mum to put in jam jars on the windowsill, and when he got tired his dad would carry him on his shoulders. He was saddened to think that this would never happen again now. His dad was in heaven, and it was only just beginning to sink in that he was never coming back.
‘Right we are then. I’ve got a nice bit of ham in the pantry,’ Mrs Dower said good-naturedly. ‘And there’s some saffron cake I can pack you up as well, and a bottle of lemonade with a marble stopper. That should keep you all going till suppertime.’
Briony noticed that Talwyn was listening. She asked, ‘Would it be all right if Talwyn came with us, Mrs Dower?’
The woman looked doubtful. ‘Well, I’m not sure that would be a good idea, my little maid. She tends to wander off, you see. You need eyes in the back of your head with her.’
‘Oh, I promise I’d take very good care of her,’ Briony said hastily and after a moment the woman nodded.
‘Very well then. But don’t say that I didn’t warn you.’
They set off for the steps leading down to the beach half an hour later armed with a heavy basket full of goodies that Mrs Dower had packed for them. Briony eyed the steps warily. They were very steep, cut into the face of the cliff, and it looked a long way down.
‘You all follow me,’ she ordered and they began the slow descent. Briony was actually quite afraid of heights and her heart was in her mouth, but eventually they reached the bottom safely, and, suddenly the effort was all worthwhile. The sand underfoot was silver-white, and she saw that they were in a little cove. Azure-blue waves were lapping onto the beach, and before she could stop them, Sarah and Alfie had stripped off their socks and shoes and were splashing in the sea. Talwyn held back, sticking close to Briony, who held her hand and led her to a sunny spot where she put down the basket and settled to watch the children. She had the impression that Talwyn didn’t get to visit the beach very often but then she doubted that the Dowers had much free time for pleasure. They always seemed to be working, which Briony thought was a shame, living in such a beautiful place.
‘Would you like to take your shoes off and go and paddle with the children?’ Briony asked kindly, but Talwyn shook her head. She seemed quite content for now to sit with her. Sarah and Alfie ran
back and forth, gleefully showing them the shells and pretty pebbles they had found. Soon they began to search the rock pools and Alfie squealed with delight when he saw his first crab.
I shall have to buy them a bucket and spade each, the next time we go into Penzance, Briony thought, and she was so pleased to see the children enjoying themselves that gradually the hurt feelings about the harsh way she had been treated by her grandmother faded away. After all, it was a lot to have three children suddenly descend on you, so she ought to make allowances.
As the sun moved round in the sky, Briony took Talwyn’s hand and went for a gentle stroll around the cove, keeping a close eye on the children. The girl went without protest but remained very quiet and merely nodded as Briony handed things of interest to her. From the way she touched them and studied them curiously, Briony wondered if she couldn’t have perhaps done more than she was allowed to, had someone had more time to spend with her. But then poor Mrs Dower barely had enough hours in a day as it was, and she had no doubt she was doing her very best for the girl. Talwyn clearly wasn’t used to strangers; Briony doubted she would ever see anyone but her family, which was a shame. The girl was breathtakingly pretty. Her long slim legs and her arms were tanned and her hair shone like copper. She was very simply dressed in a flowered cotton dress that looked to be homemade, and her feet were encased in sandals.
Occasionally when Briony showed her something of interest, her face would break into a smile showing off her dimples, and Briony would see a flash of the young woman she might have been, had she not been damaged at birth. There was a light spattering of freckles across her nose and she had the longest, darkest eyelashes that Briony had ever seen – making her feel quite envious. Briony continued to encourage her to touch and feel things – seaweed that had been washed up on the beach, the smoothness of a shell . . . and eventually she led her back to the basket and they all gathered to eat their picnic. On more than one occasion Alfie dropped his sandwich, but he merely shook the sand off it and ate it anyway, assuring his big sister that it was delicious. He had always liked his food, but she had never known him to have such an enormous appetite; the fresh air must be doing him good. Home and the air raids seemed a million miles away, and could her mother and father have been there with them, Briony felt it would have been just perfect. But the sad fact was, that was never going to happen now.
Soldier's Daughter, The Page 13