Finally Beth looked up to Stuart. It was a shock to see the difference in him. From a confident professional of manly physique he was thin and a bit bony, with dark shadows circling his eyes that were dull and lacking their blueness. His stance was uncertain where he stood with his hands locked behind his back. His good looks remained but in a soulful sort of way. ‘Hello, Stuart, welcome to Portcowl, and welcome too, Miss Marchant.’ She greeted the good-natured, attentive nanny, who was devoted to the children, and who wore her mid-blue uniform with pride. She was rounded and rosy all over. ‘I hope you and the children find Mor Penty comfortable. Do say if you need anything.’ She said it all cheerfully, caringly, and told herself it was for the children’s sake. She was no longer attracted to Stuart in the least. He had let her down following an affair they should never have embarked on, so she owed him nothing, but she did these dear children. If their father had left them to start a life with her then she would have been responsible for tearing apart their happy secure lives. The fact that Connie had done that to the children instead did not exonerate Beth.
‘I can’t thank you enough for the loan of your home, Beth.’ Stuart replied, his discomfiture obvious and growing. ‘It’s very kind of Mrs Vyvyan inviting us for a meal.’
Both Beth and Christina were aware that Joe was bored with the event, but he didn’t disappoint them and played the perfect host. ‘The food’s all ready. Let’s eat. I’ll settle the dogs in front of the sitting room fire.’
‘Yes, I must say I’m feeling ravenous and the stew smells delicious,’ Kitty said, taking Stuart’s arm and then following Christina into the dining room.
‘Come along Master Louis and Miss Martha.’ Miss Marchant ushered them along in her mindful dutifulness.
While Christina got the guests seated, Beth fetched the stew. Kitty had said not to bother with a starter. Throughout the meal Beth made a fuss of the children. Joe offered to show Louis his tree house and collection of model aeroplanes. ‘There’s a girl who hangs round with me and my pal Richard. She’s called Lily and she’s looking forward to meeting you, Martha,’ Joe said.
Good old Joe, Beth thought. But Louis only shrugged. Every few seconds, she felt Stuart’s eyes on her. He doesn’t know how to take me. Good. He must understand he needs to keep his distance from me. Beth had been searching her heart. It was with relief and gladness she knew she really had lost all her old love and desire for him, but she did feel sorry for him, and the close connection they had once shared made her want to help him, to be his friend, but she could not allow any complications to form. Stuart was obviously desperate and achingly lonely. He would want nothing more than to fill the void in his life, to fill his moments, to rely on someone else. At all costs she must not allow him to think, if he was holding out any hopes for her, he had the slightest hope of regaining her affections. She had to talk to him, be friendly, otherwise it would seem strange and rude to Kitty. ‘Did you bring your hiking boots, Stuart? There are some lovely long walks along the cliffs, taken with care at this time of the year of course.’
‘Yes, Beth, I did,’ he answered with a polite smile. ‘It’s one thing I’m looking forward to.’
‘Stuart would like to look over one of the fishing boats. I’m sure Lofty Praed will be happy to allow him on Our Lily,’ Kitty said.
‘Absolutely,’ Beth said.
* * *
‘I’ve got the message clearly, Beth. I can see all my hopes are gone.’ Stuart had managed to separate her from the children while coffee was being drunk in the sitting room. They were on their feet before a tall cabinet, apparently admiring Christina’s collection of arts and crafts glassware. ‘It was very wrong of me to even hope to fall back on you. I promise I won’t bother you. It’s good to see you again though, Beth. You look so well. You’ve changed so much and attained the peace you badly wanted for so long. Mrs Vyvyan is a fine lady.’
Beth smiled sheepishly. ‘I did make rather too much of ignoring you, Stuart. I’m sorry about that.’
‘You don’t hate me, do you?’
‘Goodness no! I did resent you for wanting to come down here. I suppose I was confused. If I admit the truth, I was a little afraid I might still have feelings for you, but I don’t Stuart, not in that way any more. My life here has overtaken everything I felt in the past. But…’ and she gazed thoughtfully, meeting his eyes directly for the first time in about two years.
‘Yes?’ he asked hopefully, shyly, boyishly, which Beth found endearing. In his university days Stuart had been sports mad and full of fun, messing about like a juvenile, then as a family man with a responsible position, he had brimmed with assertiveness, still sports loving and always he’d been humorous. All those things and much more had made Beth fall in love with him. Stuart had promised her all sorts during their passionate love affair, but his panic over her pregnancy had proved to Beth that, although he had genuinely cared for her, he had been seeking excitement outside the commitment of his marriage.
‘We could return to our friendship as in the old days, couldn’t we? I do so want to do all I can for Louis and Martha. I feel I owe them that but I genuinely love them. It wasn’t until I saw them again that I realized how much I missed them, and I feel so for Louis.’ Her eyes travelled to the front windows, and Stuart’s did too, where Joe was pointing out to Louis the location of his tree house, through the darkness outside. Louis was uninterested and inching away from Joe.
‘Can’t say how much that helps to hear you say all that.’
Beth saw Stuart’s shoulders drop and she sensed his whole inner self had fallen with relief now he knew he wasn’t staying in Beth’s home under her sufferance, and that he had regained her friendship. Beth was calmed and pleased also, now Kitty would glean nothing unnatural about her responses to Stuart. Kitty had been showering all her attention on the children, so she wouldn’t have noticed Beth’s earlier reticence with Stuart.
‘Would you like more coffee, Mr Copeland? And you, Beth?’ Christina asked, from her fireside chair.
Both said they would. Beth seated herself beside Kitty, who had Martha cuddled into her. Kitty, who was encouraging Martha to drink a glass of milk, smiled happily at Beth. Beth smiled back. Kitty was obviously optimistic that all might now work out well for her family. Beth sought Louis. He was lined up on the carpet between Chaplin and Grace, lying on his side hugging Grace with his face buried against her long coat.
Beth glanced up at Joe. Joe shrugged. He had got nowhere with Louis. Louis was traumatized by his mother’s desertion, and his father didn’t know how to cope with him. Perhaps his mother coming back into the family’s life would bring Louis back to the playful trusting little boy he had once been. Beth prayed this would be the case in due course. She hated having to hold back her secret that she was to meet Connie Copeland tomorrow.
Seven
The wound on Rob’s arm was extremely painful but it wasn’t really bothering him. Not a lot was bothering him although he knew there should be, and would be, when he stopped feeling numb. He was just allowing his mind to drift. Unless he was sleeping or reading, he was thinking, thinking all the time about his life, his future, possible futures, and how he had come to be laid up at home, weak and barely capable of standing on his own.
This was the third day he had left his bedroom. As on the previous two mornings, he felt light-headed, and as always, horribly hot. Judy had joined Alison, and between them they had washed, shaved and dressed him and put on the new slippers they had bought for him. On his first day downstairs, Alison had said in his ear, making him shiver and rouse, ‘Are you sure you should go downstairs?’ She was gently brushing his hair. The day before, she had helped the district nurse to wash his lank sweaty hair over an enamelled bowl and Rob had passed out. When he’d come to, she had told him how strange it was, he being so weak and not in control.
‘Fed up stuck up here,’ he’d murmured. ‘Not fixed to drip any more. I’ll shuffle downstairs on bottom.’
‘Rob, my hands
ome,’ Judy had said. ‘You’re still a bit breathless. You’re not even managing full sentences. You barely open your eyes. Why not see how you feel tomorrow, eh?’
Rob had summoned up some strength. He had quite a lot in reserve but just wasn’t bothering to draw on it. He’d opened his eyes wide. ‘Sorry girls, you don’t need to worry about me. I need a change of scene. Once I’m downstairs it won’t matter if you can’t get me up here again. Settee is comfy enough to sleep on. You’ve already taken down the commode lent us. Neighbours have been so kind.’
Here he was again, stretched out on the long horsehair settee, which the girls had pulled up in front of the fireside, a sheet underneath him, pillows under his head, the blanket the girls had tucked around him pushed down past his knees for he was so hot and sweaty. Rob insisted the fire was kept small because he couldn’t stand the heat, and that a window was opened a little. To offset draughts, Alison kept the curtains partially drawn so the room was darkened. Sometimes he dozed, or snatched moments to read bits of the daily newspaper. Alison popped in to him every now and again with the foul-tasting medicine or with small meals or to remind him to drink. He had to drink lots of water to help flush out the infection. When Alison needed to pop out Judy, or his aunt Posy, or a neighbour stayed in the house in case he needed anything.
Today Alison, with Judy and Posy, had taken the weekly coach to town to shop for gloves and other stuff for the wedding. He didn’t know who was presently keeping watch over him – he must have been asleep when they came in. His throat was parched and he finished off half a glass of water. He was still thirsty, but rather than call for some more he waited, his sitter would soon be in to check on him. He was well looked after. The flow of concern from the neighbours had been immediate and unending once word got round that he’d not been responsible for the incident on his uncle’s boat. It was heartening for Rob to know few had believed he’d be so slack and then lie about it. Even Davey Vage, the one person who loathed him, had called in, Alison said, with a box of vegetables from his allotment. The kindness was typical of the tight-knit community, where the fishermen pitted their wits and often risked their lives and limbs against the might and sometimes savagery of the sea.
Rob had been spared on the boat. The nets could have dragged him over the side and trapped him to drown in the freezing rough waters. His life had been saved by the swift skills of Doctor Powell, and perhaps by Beth Tresaile. If no one had been travelling along the quiet lane he might have lain in the ditch long enough for the infection, or pneumonia to kill him, or to drown in the muddy water in the ditch. He was lucky to have kept his arm too. He could have joined the five limbless fishermen in the cove; two had lost limbs in fishing accidents and three from fighting in the Great War. When he had regained his strength he would decide what his future would be.
Evie was in the Praed kitchen making Rob a mug of strong sweet tea. On the tray she also put a jug of fresh water and a large wedge of her own cherry cake. She had called in every day to ask about him, hoping to speak to him personally and wish him a fast recovery. She was pleased Alison had asked her to wait on Rob today. Evie was almost excited by it. She had never believed Douglas Praed’s wicked lie and she wanted Rob to know this. She told herself it was just concern for a wronged, ill man.
She picked up the teak tray to carry into the front room. Something caught her eye. ‘No, Smoky!’ she hissed. Her disrespectful cat was padding down the stairs. Before she had the chance to put the tray down Smoky had slipped past the front room door, left ajar in case Rob called out for something.
Evie rushed to the door, her hand up to her mouth in horror, praying Rob was asleep and she could extract her cat from the room and the cottage and Rob would never know he’d been there. Smoky liked jumping up on people, if he leapt on to Rob’s wounded arm…
Spying movement by the door, Rob watched as Smoky slunk into the room. He didn’t have the energy or will to bother to shout the cat out. His trauma had seen off many of his old prejudices and irritations and he couldn’t help smiling wryly. ‘So you’ve come to torment me again, have you, cheeky damned bugger, aren’t you?’
Rob’s weak voice came to Evie as a mumble. What was happening? She shot into the room. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ll get him out right away.’
‘Evie.’ Rob was pleased to see it was her who was sitting for him. The girls had told him how concerned she had been about him, bringing in her own baking and offering to help any way she could. He sat up straight against the pillows. She looked so pretty, pink-cheeked, wide-eyed and anxious, and much younger than her twenty-seven years, in fact barely out of girlhood. ‘Don’t worry about the cat.’
‘You mean you’re not cross?’ She glanced from Rob, whose voice had been low and husky, to Smoky, now stretched out on the woven hearthrug and rolling on his back. ‘He has got an awful cheek. I’ll put him outside.’
‘Leave him, Evie. I’m getting used to him. Yesterday he was in here for ages, sitting along the arm of the settee by my feet, like king of the castle. He kept staring at me, all superior, as if daring me to order him out.’
‘Did he?’ Evie raised her brows and bent to stroke Smoky. ‘You’re incorrigible, aren’t you, Smoky?’ She was delighted Rob had changed his stance on Smoky. Rob’s drawn features, once either flirtatious or hard, were still darkly handsome, and beguilingly mysterious in the low flickering flames of the log fire. ‘I’m glad you don’t mind him any more. How are you feeling today, Rob?’
‘Still wiped out, I keep hoping every day I’ll wake up and feel strong enough to go outside. I’m missing the fresh air, everything. But I’m still as weak as bilge water. I can’t even stomach a fag at the moment. Never thought I could feel this way. I’m used to being in charge of things.’ He smiled weakly at her. ‘Sorry if I smell sweaty and if this arm stinks with the infection, it’s all I can smell on myself.’
‘It’s just cosy and warm in here,’ Evie reassured him. He was a little sweaty but it wasn’t offensive, it was an evocative manly smell. There was also a strong surgical whiff. ‘Are you ready for a cup of tea and something to eat?’
‘You women are never happy unless you’re stuffing food and drink into someone. I’ve sipped enough broths to float a holed lugger.’ He grinned, and sunk back down as he grew slightly breathless. ‘But thanks, that would be nice. Have you brought in something tasty to eat with you?’
‘Some cherry cake, would you like some?’
‘Please, and Evie, I’d like it if you joined me, and Smoky.’
‘You make the best cherry cake, Evie,’ Rob munched. His best pleasure at the moment was to have regained his sense of taste, but on reflection, it was having Evie sitting on a padded stool, up close to him. Gazing at her, she was lovely. She was watching him keenly for signs he needed help in any way. It was so good the way a man, when helpless, brought out the caring side in women. He hated being lain up but he was enjoying being cosseted. ‘You make the best cherry cake I’ve eaten. Bet the vicar likes your cake. He’s called on me twice, and he stuffed his face with Allie’s sausage rolls each time. Seems a nice enough bloke, nothing holier than thou about him.’
Evie was alert in case Rob became uncomfortable or choked on a crumb. He had found swallowing difficult at the beginning of his recovery. Alison had got a terrible fright one time and been forced to pound on his back. Ever since then, every time he took a bite he followed it with a mouthful of tea. ‘Mr Benedict called on us when my father was at home and they had a deep conversation about creation and the afterlife. Dad’s impressed the cove has a vicar who embraces us Methodists. Everyone’s looking forward to his Grand Tea Party and meeting his fiancée.’
‘Not as much as he is, he talked a lot about Miss Bettany Howard-something. One of those hearty types, all horsey teeth, I reckon. Don’t know if I believe in God and all that stuff, but I admit I’ve prayed at times when the sea and the wind seemed hell bent on breaching the boat. Now I’ve been through all this it’s made me realize I’ve got
to live my life more than ever.’ He studied her for a moment. ‘Wasn’t expecting you to be here today. Bet Davey’s not happy about it. He detests me. Does he know you’re here?’
‘Of course, Alison asked me in front of him last night, if I’d call in. Dad doesn’t mind me doing a neighbour a kindness. And you detest Dad too.’
‘He’s a difficult man.’
‘So are you. You were more easy-going back along. As bad as one another.’
‘But I didn’t stop Judy getting married, or Allie planning hers. Davey’s selfish for wanting to deny you a husband and family. Don’t you want children, Evie? Surely you do. You’d make a wonderful mother. If you were to fall in love, would you go against Davey’s wishes?’ Rob leaned towards her as far as he was able to. Evie had no idea how calculated and vindictive Davey could be.
Rob had known as a boy, about Davey and his war-dead lover, Cyrus, after witnessing them together. ‘You can trust me to make Evie a good husband,’ he had told Davey last year, when broaching him on his intention to court Evie. Your private life is your own business. I said nothing back then and I never will, if you don’t stand in my way.’ Davey’s reaction had been anger, and soon afterwards, while the fleet was moored up at Newlyn, he had arranged for a seductive young prostitute to climb aboard Our Lily; while Rob was alone. Rob had gone with the girl and paid her. Davey had then gloated she was under age. Rob had discovered quite recently Davey had duped him and the girl was in her twenties and just looked very young. Rob had done nothing unlawful, as Davey had done with Cyrus. He wanted to keep Evie as his exclusive comforter and companion. Any man who tried to separate them would find himself in deep water.
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