Dream Catcher

by Iris Gower

  Polly stared at her with half-closed eyes. ‘I told you, marry for money, that’s the only way.’

  Lily chewed her lip, wondering about marriage, about making vows in church knowing that in your heart you did not want the man you were being tied to. Would God strike her dead if she married Watt?

  Polly seemed to know what she was thinking. ‘I’d aim higher than Watt Bevan if I had your looks, Lily.’

  ‘Who for instance?’ Lily shook her head. ‘There’s no way of meeting any men except for work and there they’re all like me, living in lodgings or poky little rooms, earning a pittance from those uppity pottery owners.’

  Polly flopped onto her back, her legs stretched out before her, her bare toes pointing to the ceiling. She was cleaner now that Lily had taken her in hand. Polly washed regularly and combed and tied up her thick hair. But she still looked like a street urchin. Lily congratulated herself that she herself had something to offer a man, any man; she was good and chaste and a talented painter. The trouble was she did not want a man.

  ‘You still a virgin?’ Polly asked and Lily looked at her startled.

  ‘Of course I am!’ She felt her colour rising. ‘I’m not the sort to allow anyone to take liberties with me.’

  ‘Different to me, then.’ Polly laughed. ‘They can take anything they like so long as they’re paying.’

  ‘Oh, Polly, you shouldn’t be like that.’ Lily stared at her friend wondering how she could bear to let a man paw her, to put up with all sorts of indignities just for money. ‘Why don’t you get a job and earn a decent living?’

  ‘Nothing wrong with laying on your back,’ Polly said. ‘If you don’t like the man you close your eyes and think of something else while he gets on with it.’

  Lily shuddered delicately. ‘I don’t think I want to get married, ever.’ She closed her eyes, thinking of Watt Bevan and how he loved to put his arms around her and how he tried to steal a kiss whenever he could. It would be worse if she married him.

  She snuggled down into the bedclothes and hugged them around her chin. She imagined a life of freedom, earning lots of money, rising ever higher in the pottery, becoming so necessary that she would be paid any wage she asked just to stay on there.

  ‘Well, then, what if you don’t marry, what will you do?’

  Lily craned her head to look at Polly. ‘What do you mean, what will I do? I’ll work of course.’

  ‘And what if you lose your job, what if they decide to close the pottery? What if you do stay there? What about when you are too old to work, where will you end up, the workhouse, is it?’

  Lily had not thought that far ahead. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine herself without a job, with the pottery closed down; it was impossible. She thought of the savings she had put away, even working for many years to come she would never have enough to keep her in her old age. She sighed, it looked as if she would have to settle for marriage to someone. But then, as Polly said, why not make it a marriage where she would at least have plenty of money?

  ‘I could introduce you to some rich fellas,’ Polly said. ‘I meet all sorts in my business, doctors, lawyers and such.’

  ‘No thanks.’ Lily said quickly. ‘No, I’m not ready for that yet, not for a long time.’ And, if she was honest, she would not like an introduction from a girl like Polly; any man she associated with would consider her friends cut from the same cloth. No, the way to meet respectable men was to attend the church social evenings which were not so very social as proper and stiff and formal. But at least then she would not be taken for a hussy. And, in the last resort, she could marry Watt.

  Meanwhile, she had the titbit of gossip about Binnie Dundee to mull over. The nerve of the man, being married to two women at the same time. She shrugged her way deeper under the bedclothes, feeling weariness creep over her. Her back ached from leaning forward on her stool to capture just the right colour, the finest sweep of her brush. She loved painting, she was never happier than when she was working, but, as Polly had pointed out, she might not be able to work when her eyesight faded and the bone ache set in. It seemed she would have to consider marriage, unless something better came along. She imagined Watt kissing her, undressing her, using her like a breeding animal and, suddenly, sleep seemed a long way away.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ‘SO, YOU RAN away from me, Father.’ Saul Marks was standing on the doorstep of Pottery House, staring at his father with a mixture of scorn and fury. ‘I might have known you’d come back here.’ Samuel plucked at the button on his coat in agitation. He had only agreed to talk to his son because it meant sparing the ladies an ugly scene if he refused. He looked into his son’s angry face and wondered why he had been cursed with such an unfeeling, grasping, offspring. ‘Afraid I’ll make a fuss about that parcel of land you handed over without so much as a by your leave, land you should have given to your son, is that it?’

  ‘That’s it, exactly,’ Samuel said wearily. ‘You took enough from me as it is, Saul, more than my money, you took my dignity. It was only by the good graces of Mr Mainwaring that I’m not rotting in prison at this moment.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Saul was almost spitting in his fury. ‘I would have got you out, all in good time. I just needed to raise the money, that’s all.’

  ‘Money that was mine in the first place,’ Samuel said reasonably. ‘I never thought you would cheat me, your own father, Saul. How can you live with yourself?’

  Saul caught his father by the throat and pushed him against the wall. ‘You shouldn’t have been such a tight-fisted bastard!’ Saul’s voice was rising and Samuel gasped for air, trying to tell his son to calm down.

  ‘I want that land, Father, and you had better get it back for me or it will be the worse for you!’

  ‘That’s enough.’ Joe appeared in the hallway, his voice low with contained anger. ‘Let him go.’

  ‘And what if I don’t?’ Saul shook his father hard. Joe moved between them then and Samuel found he was free to breathe again. Joe towered above Saul; his shoulders were set and his fists were bunched.

  ‘Leave my property,’ Joe said clearly. ‘I don’t want to see you near here again, understand?’

  ‘I understand,’ Saul said. ‘I understand that you have duped a poor old man out of his property.’

  ‘No, you did that,’ Joe said. ‘You made yourself and left your father to die a debtor. Get out of my yard before I throw you out.’

  Saul backed away. ‘Oh, I’ll go but you haven’t heard the last of me, you can count on that.’ He felt like spitting at the half-breed. He turned and strode away, his face clouded with anger.

  Lily had been watching the scene from a safe distance, she had heard every word. She had grown to despise Llinos, how could she marry a half-breed, had she no shame? Lily waited for Saul Marks to draw near. When he was level with her, she stepped out into his path.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said breathlessly, ‘I didn’t see you coming.’ He stared down at her with indifference and she was piqued. He was a very handsome man and rich by all accounts.

  ‘I heard shouting,’ she said hurriedly before the man could brush past her. ‘That awful foreigner, Joe Mainwaring, was playing the bully again, is that it?’

  Saul hesitated and Lily pressed home her advantage. ‘He’s a strange one, that. I wouldn’t trust him further than I could throw him. You know he was accused of murder, don’t you?’

  ‘I heard that,’ he said. ‘But not the details. Perhaps you could fill me in?’ She had Saul’s interest now. He looked at her more closely and then he smiled and doffed his hat. ‘It seems that you and I have a great deal in common,’ he said. ‘Perhaps we might meet to talk sometime?’

  ‘That would be very nice,’ Lily said. ‘I sometimes walk near the beach with my friend. Well, she’s not really my friend, she lodges in the same house as me but if she comes along, no-one can say bad things about us.’

  ‘Well, then, a proper young lady. It’s good to see that someone around h
ere knows how to behave. What if we say six o’clock this evening, will that suit you?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Lily said, taking in the rich cloth of the man’s clothes and the fine gold stud in his shirt.

  ‘Until later then.’ She watched until Saul Marks had left the grounds of the pottery and then returned to the paint shed. There were several hours still to work but if she pleaded a headache to Pearl the older woman would let her off so long as she promised to return the favour some time.

  Lily’s thoughts were flying even as she began painting. She would have to make sure that Polly looked respectable for once. She needed Polly around not so much for a chaperone but to give her courage. Polly was used to the ways of men, knew how to get round them, but Lily felt she already had the key to Saul Marks. She would feed his hate for Joe, pander to his male ego and ingratiate herself so that Saul might come to rely on her. Perhaps he might even fall in love with her. She shuddered at the thought of marriage but she was fast coming to the conclusion that she had no choice. Marriage to a rich man while she was still young enough to attract one was infinitely preferable to working until she dropped. She bent her head, smiling to herself. She would charm Saul Marks, she had the looks and the brains. She would do all she could to please him and her reward would be a comfortable home and a respectable name.

  ‘Poor Samuel, he looked really shaken.’ Llinos was sitting up in bed watching Joe undress. He was lithe and slim. His skin was bronzed and when he turned to look at her his eyes were a startling blue.

  ‘That son is a nasty piece of work,’ Joe said, slipping into bed beside her. He refused to wear any nightclothes; he was used to sleeping naked and, by now, Llinos was used to the warm touch of his skin against hers. She snuggled into his arms and he cradled her as though she were a precious piece of china.

  She traced the line of his jaw with her finger and her happiness was mingled with sadness. ‘Joe, will we ever have a baby?’ she asked. Above the bed the candles flickered, sending weird shapes across the walls. ‘You can see most things, can you see a child for us?’

  He sighed softly. ‘It will come in good time; we will have a baby.’ He kissed her hair. ‘But don’t wish for it too soon, everything has a time and a season and when we get our heart’s desire there is usually a price to pay.’

  His words made her shiver. She buried her face in the warmth of his neck and his breath lifted tendrils of her hair. She loved Joe, she could not live without him and if the Good Lord did not see fit to bless their union with a healthy child then she must make the most of what she had, a loving, tender husband.

  He made love to her gently that night, as if sensing her sadness and she responded to him with extra passion as though to make up for her foolish, ungrateful mood. He kissed her breasts and then her eyelids and her mouth, and they moved together like the waves of the sea, like the corn waving in the summer breeze. She arched her back and allowed herself to be carried away to the place where there was no conscious thought any more, simply sensations of love and release and joy.

  They lay entwined in each other’s arms for a long time after their love-making had ceased. She ached with love for him and, even as sleep overcame her, she was murmuring his name.

  The evening was dark with the promise of rain threatening to spoil Lily’s meeting with Saul Marks. As she and Polly hurried through the misty streets, Lily wondered if he would even bother to turn up. He did and she blushed with pleasure; she had him enamoured of her already.

  He eyed her with approval and she knew she looked well in her slim-fitting coat over a deep blue gown. She was well aware that the ribbons of her bonnet framed her face in a most becoming way. It did not occur to her that she was being conceited; she was merely being honest.

  Lily introduced Polly, wondering what he thought of her. Polly just nodded a greeting, her head down but her sharp eyes missing nothing. She looked quite respectable for once in a borrowed dress and cloak with her wild hair tucked neatly away.

  ‘Good evening to you, ladies,’ Saul said easily. ‘May I take you for coffee? It might warm us all up in this chill weather.’

  Polly nudged Lily and Lily ignored her, hoping the girl was not going to make a fool of herself before polite company.

  ‘That is very generous of you, sir,’ she said meekly. She fell into step beside him, glancing up at him, trying to imagine him kissing her, making love to her. She shivered, he was very presentable, good-looking even and rich; she was sure she could get used to the idea of intimacy between them given time.

  Polly followed good-naturedly. It seemed the prospect of coffee in a warm shop had improved her spirits and she hummed tunelessly to herself.

  Saul led the way into the coffee shop and Lily breathed in the rich aroma of ground coffee. The candles were lit early because the day had been overcast and now shadows danced across the floor, throwing weird shapes against the pale walls. Saul beckoned to the waiter and the man led them to a table.

  ‘Please sit, ladies,’ Saul said graciously. He ordered the coffee and when it came sat back in his chair.

  ‘Well, this is nice,’ he said. ‘We can have a conversation in comfort now, can’t we?’

  Lily remembered then that she was supposed to be talking about Joe Mainwaring. She sipped the coffee, it was unfamiliar, strong, and she tried not to make a face. Polly was not so discreet.

  ‘Ugh!’ she said wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Saul smiled and with his eyes on Lily, advised the ladies to add milk to the drink. Lily used the time to think of something to say about Joe. She leaned forward, suddenly inspired.

  ‘You know Joe was imprisoned because of what he did to Captain Savage?’ she said eagerly. Saul frowned. ‘It was only because he hired a clever lawyer that he got away with it.’

  ‘He’s a murderer,’ Polly volunteered. ‘He done the poor captain in, that’s for sure. I don’t know how these rich folks get away with such goings on.’

  Lily wished she would shut up. She was ignorant and it showed. Saul did not seem to notice.

  ‘I knew the man was in prison,’ Saul said, ‘though I confess I didn’t know why. I imagined it to be some sort of fraudulent dealings.’

  ‘He gave the captain something,’ Polly said, in full flood now. ‘Poison stuff that killed him.’

  ‘You are very well informed, young lady,’ Saul said looking directly at Polly for the first time. Lily was unnerved; she spoke up, determined to draw Saul’s attention back to herself.

  ‘Of course, I knew it all along,’ she said, ‘working as I do for Llinos Mainwaring. How she could bring herself to marry a man like that I don’t know. I think she helped Joe to get rid of her father so that she would have his money.’

  ‘It’s all very interesting,’ Saul said. ‘Do you think you could find out the name of this man, this lawyer from London?’

  ‘I knows it already,’ Polly said. ‘A Mr Grantley, that’s what it is.’

  ‘Ah, I see. Right, then, let us talk about something more pleasant, shall we?’ Saul was smiling now, leaning towards Lily, his eyes admiring her fair skin and her large eyes. ‘I know you like your work in the pottery, Lily, but how would you like to work for me as well?’

  This was not what Lily had been expecting, she blinked rapidly. ‘Work for you, doing what?’

  ‘Well, shall we say keeping an eye on things at Pottery House, keeping an eye on my dear old father lest Joe Mainwaring decides to finish him off too.’

  ‘Be a spy, you mean?’ Polly broke in, her face flushed, her eyes wide. ‘Oh, Lily, what a lovely idea, a spy!’

  It sounded easy but what was in it for her? Lily wondered. Saul soon enlightened her.

  ‘In return, I shall wine you and dine you and treat you to all manner of good things,’ he said. ‘You are a very attractive young woman, I will find it very easy to be in your company as much as I possibly can.’

  Lily looked down at her hands as if overcome with shyness. In reality, she was wondering just what Saul had in m
ind, was he courting her or was he just hoping to use her? She trusted no-one, not working men nor gentlemen.

  ‘That sounds very nice,’ she said lamely, deciding that she would play along, see what happened. If Saul was looking to rob her of her virtue then he would have a nasty shock coming.

  She forced herself to drink some of the strong coffee but it was not to her liking, not at all. It was vile stuff, tasted like nothing she had ever tasted before or wanted to taste again. She was more than a little relieved when Saul decided it was time to walk the girls back to their lodging house. Outside the door, he took Lily’s hand and kissed her fingers.

  ‘Next time we meet I shall have a gift for you.’ His glance grazed over Polly who was looking up at him expectantly. ‘And a small something for you, too, Polly.’

  As he strode away down the street, Polly hugged Lily’s arm. ‘You’re made!’ she said. ‘He fancies you, you’ve got him eating out of your little hand, girl.’

  Lily did not want him to fancy her. She wanted him to be a proper gentleman caller, respectable and respectful, and she said so.

  ‘Well, give him a chance,’ Polly said. ‘You have to treat a man like a fish, get him hooked first and then reel him in.’

  ‘I don’t know that I trust him,’ Lily said. ‘Perhaps it would not be wise to be alone with him.’

  ‘Don’t talk daft!’ Polly said. ‘You will have to be alone with him sometimes, if only to get him interested, like.’

  ‘I don’t really know what you mean by “get him interested”,’ Lily said, pushing Polly up the stairs towards the rooms they shared.

  ‘Show him a bit of bosom or a bit of ankle, that sort of thing.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know, you seem to have a man panting for you without doing a thing. Well if you gives a bit of encouragement, think how far that will get you.’

  ‘Aye, the workhouse with a baby in a shawl,’ Lily said sourly. ‘No man is going to touch me until I’m married.’

  ‘Well then, if that’s how you feel, all right.’ Polly looked at her strangely. ‘It’s nothing to be afraid of mind, it’s only natural. You got feelings, haven’t you, Lil?’