He had waved off the children, Kitty and Miss Marchant for their visit to the fishing village. His winter clothing and walking boots were on and the walking stick that he’d taken on many long and arduous treks round Britain and abroad was in his hand. ‘You should have a dog with you,’ Louis had whined. ‘No one should go walking without a faithful dog at his side. I want a puppy. I can’t see why you won’t let Martha and I have one. I’ve promised I’ll look after it and it won’t be a bother to anyone, so you’re mean to keep on saying no.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Stuart had sighed.
‘You often say that and the answer is always no! It’s not fair. Other kids have a dog. Joe Vyvyan’s had one for years. Why not me?’
‘Get in the car, Louis.’ Stuart had raised his voice in exasperation. ‘I said, I’ll think about it.’
‘I really think you ought to allow him to, Daddy.’ Martha had tugged on Stuart’s coat.
A photograph of Kitty and Grace, with Joe Vyvyan and Chaplin up on the rustic mantelpiece caught Stuart’s eye. He had promised Louis often he would think about allowing him and Martha to have a puppy but Stuart had never done so. He just couldn’t be bothered with a puppy and helping with its training, the inevitable puddles, and ripped-up slippers. He had not kept his promises and the thought hit him in the gut like a terrific gust of wind and he let out a groan. He had not kept his promise to his son… or Connie, that he’d remain a faithful husband. He had loved his family but he’d soon put them in the background to his work and all else. He had promised all manner of romantic things to Beth for a happy future together, but the moment she became pregnant he’d taken fright, and Beth had seen through all his weaknesses and had cut him completely out of her life. He was as selfish as hell. How cheap it had been of him to actually ask, hiding behind Kitty, if he could stay in Beth’s home! It was outrageous of him. He had placed Beth in a dreadful situation, and now because of his selfishness she was caught up in keeping another secret from Kitty, in this current meeting with Connie. What a heel, what a louse he was.
When he saw Connie coming hesitantly towards him, having stayed concealed behind some bushes until the car had disappeared down the road, he had hurried towards her, his heart in pieces. She had deliberately missed seeing the children so she must be here on some serious matter, perhaps to ask for a divorce. Then he had noticed how drawn and shy she was and his hopes to have all his crushing loneliness taken away had leapt into life. He had so missed Connie running his home and being mother to the children. He had missed her too, the Connie he had known at first, just lovely and good-natured, her hair and clothes fashionable but not painstakingly so, until she had tried to turn herself into a perfect, chic hostess, the sort of wife a man of high position should have. Their home had become a place where a cushion mustn’t be out of place or a speck of dust to be seen. Pets were out of the question. They made a noise and a mess. He had gone along with everything Connie had wanted, not wanting to be bothered with anything domestic or how the children should be brought up. In time he had given Connie, Louis and Martha no particular thoughts. Everything had become routine and predictable, and boring and unfulfilling. If he had not had an affair with Beth, the intriguing best friend of his sister, then he certainly would have done with someone else. He was a bastard and a complete shit.
Connie had turned up begging to be listened to, as penitent as a saint, hoping for a full reconciliation and return to family life, promising she would do anything he wanted, just to be given a second chance. His relief, the promise of release from some of his most pressing responsibilities had overwhelmed him. He was being offered more than Connie would get from him. He wanted things to be as they were before. Anything was better than this soul-sapping loneliness. Just how more bloody selfish could he get, he asked himself now. Connie had wept, and he had touched her to tell her she need not cry, and that touch had turned to them clutching each other for reassurance and had ended in lust. Connie had been vulnerable and wholly regretful, and he had exploited her body. At that moment he could not hate himself more.
He fell to his knees and cried and sobbed.
Connie reached him. ‘It’s all right, Stuart darling.’ She hugged him in her arms. ‘Everything will be all right, I promise.’
‘I don’t deserve you and I certainly don’t deserve your promises, Connie darling. I’ll be the one to put everything right. And that’s one promise I swear I will keep.’
* * *
‘What a grossly ugly woman, is it a woman?’ The unremarkable-looking Miss Marchant, who was conscientiously dressed to combat the bracing coldness, as she had seen to it her two charges were, had quietly addressed Evie. With the rest of the party, they were on the quayside, watching the luggers preparing for the night’s work. Evie had pointed out her father, hard at his task servicing the engines on Morenwyn. Davey had not acknowledged them; it wasn’t his way. The sea had filled the little harbour, the water deep and green and a little choppy.
‘That’s Gabby Magor,’ Evie replied in confidential tones about the person lumbering down towards them in hobnail boots, from a steep alley between the cottages. ‘She’s a bit of an outcast, I’m afraid, but it’s her own fault really. She can be aggressive and sometimes rolls about drunk. The little dog with her is called Tickle. Strangely she dotes on him, before that she was always cruel to the different kinds of animals she’s kept. Miss Copeland and Master Joe believe it was she who abandoned Grace in the woods. Since then Master Joe and his friends have furtively kept an eye on her place, up out of the cove in a lonely place.’
Miss Marchant pursed her lips. ‘There should be a law against a woman dressing so obviously like a man. She seems quite filthy too. Does she not know how to wipe her nose?’ The nanny frowned, going off down a different track. ‘Doesn’t she feel the cold? Do you think she can’t afford a coat?’
‘I’ve only ever known her to wear a woolly hat and scarf in winter,’ Evie said. ‘Her nose is bright red all year round. I suppose she’s warm enough.’
Beth and Kitty had also seen Gabby Magor approaching and had turned the children’s heads to look out to sea. Gabby was rather a gruesome sight, and they didn’t want the children to be scared, plus Gabby swore a lot, and if she was in a bad mood she might try to pick a quarrel. She had never forgiven Kitty and Joe for confronting her about abandoning Grace, and for trying to take Tickle away from her.
‘’Lo, Evie Vage, how are ’ee this chilly af’noon then?’ Gabby blurted out from several huge granite slabs away on the quay.
‘I’m very well, thank you, Miss Magor,’ Evie answered nicely. ‘And how are you, and Tickle?’
‘Can see for yourself, can’t ’ee?’ Gabby searched out a dirty rag from her pair of rough, ancient man’s trousers and blew her nose vociferously and not cleanly, making Evie and Miss Marchant inwardly cringe. ‘Tickle’s in fine fettle. I love him and he loves me, and no one,’ she stabbed an angry look at Kitty, ‘can part us, ’less they want their bleddy heads bashed in. How’s your neighbour, Rob Praed? Going on all right, is he?’
Beth looked closely at Evie for her response. After Evie’s loathing of Rob’s undesirable ways, Beth had the uncomfortable feeling that, since his injury, Evie was warming to him. Beth hoped she was wrong, a situation like that could lead to all sorts of problems for Evie.
‘He’s making a good recovery. Everyone in the cove is pleased about that.’ Evie’s reply was bland. She was trying to be careful about everything concerning Rob, especially her growing attraction to him. She enjoyed being with him. She was able to talk to him as easily as she did to Alison, Judy and Beth.
‘’S’e going back on Our Lily? Even after what his bleddy rotten cousin did to him?’ Gabby asked charily, as if she wanted to make a fight of it on Rob’s behalf.
‘I don’t know anything about that, Miss Magor,’ Evie said then looked down, hoping Gabby would take the hint and move on. It wasn’t a wise thing to ask her to excuse you. She would probably see it
as a dismissal and take offence. Actually Evie knew from Rob that he had decided his best course for the future was to return to fish again off Our Lily. He was going to allow Douglas to work on the boat too, but Rob would be wary of him for safety’s sake, and keep his distance in every other way. Evie admired Rob for his decisions.
‘Who’s she with you then? And who’s them kids with those two stuck-up mares?’ Gabby demanded.
‘The children are the nephew and niece of Miss Copeland, and this is Miss Marchant, the children’s nanny.’
‘Oh yes, her brother’s staying at Mor Penty. Nice looking little maid, though that boy’s a bit sickly. Don’t you b’lieve in feeding him up, missus? Be charged with cruelty next. People like to ’cuse innocent people of cruelty round here.’
All four women were hoping Gabby Magor would push off.
Tickle made the decision to leave by scampering off back up the narrow cobbled alley. Gabby grunted as way of a goodbye, and with her hands stuffed in her pockets plodded after him.
‘Ghastly soul.’ Miss Marchant faced the sea to expel Gabby Magor’s mouldering stench out of her nose.
Everyone shuffled about. ‘I’m getting really cold, Aunt Kitty,’ Martha moaned.
‘It’s time for us to go to the tea shop for hot drinks and fancies and to get warm,’ Kitty said gaily.
The party moved off towards the Sailor’s Rest, the tea shop was located past the pub by a short climb into the little square. Suddenly Miss Marchant cried, ‘Where’s Master Louis? I can’t see him anywhere!’
‘He was beside me a moment ago. How could he have slipped away so quickly?’ Kitty exclaimed.
‘Oh, dear Lord, he might have gone back to the edge of the quay and slipped into the water,’ Miss Marchant wailed in fear and horror.
The four women stepped off several yards in different directions, Martha clinging to Kitty’s hand, all shouting shrilly for Louis.
They were about to make a wider search for him when, after long agonizing seconds, he came running past the pub towards them. ‘Sorry about that, I got lost for a minute,’ he apologized heartily.
Only Martha could tell that he wasn’t at all sorry and that for once her sneaky brother did not have something to grumble about.
Ten
Joe and Richard Opie were whizzing along the lanes on their bicycles to the vicarage. Lily Praed was perched on Joe’s crossbar and enjoying the speed and slight risk. If Joe wobbled she might be pitched off and hurt, but the scrap of a nine-year-old was almost fearless, and she totally trusted Joe’s sharp mind and abilities. On the front of each bicycle was a basket packed high with a bag of small items, ready wrapped, for the bran tub, for the vicar’s Grand Tea Party.
‘What a way to spend a Saturday afternoon,’ Richard had grumbled, after arriving with Joe at Owles House following a meeting of their school athletic club. Lily had been there, having helped Mrs Vyvyan wrap the last of the little parcels. Once they had been plied with sandwiches and hot chocolate, the trio had been sent off on the delivery. ‘Be glad when this stupid tea party’s over and done with. It’s all my mother and sister talk about. One good thing has come out of it, though. Claire has stopped swooning about. She’s even dropped her horrid friends, and she doesn’t go on about her hair, nails and clothes all the time. The staff at the hotel like her now, it was embarrassing the way they used to whisper about her.’
‘Don’t you want to see inside the vicarage, specially now it’s all been done up?’ Lily had said, in a chirruping voice that was designed, and never failed to annoy stocky, ginger-haired Richard. ‘And meet Miss Howard-Leigh? She’s a real lady, so don’t forget we got to bow and curtsey.’
‘Huh! Don’t be stupid, and I don’t bow to anyone,’ Richard scoffed, the redness of his face highlighting his freckles. ‘’Cept the King and Queen, of course, and I’m not likely to meet them. She’s only minor gentry. My mother says she’s not pretty or elegant, despite having a personal maid and the latest clothes. She’s all teeth and far-flung smiles, and has to be told everything twice. Mother can’t see what the vicar sees in her.’
‘Ah-ah, see, you like passing on gossip so you will be interested in the vicarage, and its new lady.’ Lily proudly fingered the glass bead necklace, taken from the bran tub prizes, that Mrs Vyvyan had given to her for helping, then tagged on piously, ‘That was an unkind thing your mother said, even if it’s true. I shall see for myself what Miss Howard-Leigh looks like.’
‘Shut your trap,’ Richard snarled at her. ‘Or I’ll dump you in a bloody hedge.’
As always, during these frequent spats, Joe endured it patiently, unless he felt Richard went too far.
It wasn’t far to the vicarage, which was set back from the church, and on the quick journey much was flashing through Joe’s mind. Mainly Kitty’s shock and hostile reaction to her brother suddenly turning up at Owles House with his wife, and her subsequent cold behaviour; so out of character for Kitty. Despite Mrs Copeland’s sheepishness and apologies, and her emotional delight of her children running to her and clinging to her, Kitty had shrieked, ‘Stuart! How could you? You must be mad.’ Then she had stormed out of the sitting room.
Louis and Martha had not cared one bit about their aunt’s negative response, they had been too happy to see their parents happily together again, to have their misery lifted and security returned. Louis had changed as if touched by magic. His posture had become straight, healthy colour flooded his face and all traces of anxiety and scowl had vanished. Beth had been pleased about the situation. She had even kissed Mrs Copeland’s cheeks, and told her, ‘I’m so glad for you all.’ Mr Copeland had gone to Kitty, who had rushed to the kitchen, and tried to explain that the reconciliation was what he wanted more than anything, but he’d come back saying Kitty could not be reasoned with.
‘Oh well, we all need time to adjust,’ Mr Copeland had said, ruefully glancing towards the kitchen. ‘I hope everyone will understand that Connie and I and the children need time to be just a family again. We’d like to stay on in the cottage for a while, if that’s agreeable to you, Beth, neutral ground and all that. We shan’t go out much, will keep ourselves to ourselves.’
‘Of course,’ Beth replied. To Joe’s mind, Beth had seemed mightily relieved, as Joe was, not to be lumbered with two needy children, one an irritating whinger.
‘We’d be glad to see you all any time at Mor Penty, of course,’ Mr Copeland had said. ‘Tell Kitty for us please. She will have to understand, however, that no matter what she feels about it, I have to put my family first.’
‘I’ll speak to her. I’m sure everything will be all right,’ Beth had said, but she was biting her bottom lip.
‘Right children,’ Miss Marchant said, ‘We’ll gather our coats and woollens.’ The nanny had appeared delighted with the occurrence. She and Mrs Copeland had shaken hands before going out to the hall.
Before the leave takers had gone, Louis had achieved the promise from both parents that he and Martha could have a dog. ‘As soon as we get home in Wiltshire,’ Mr Copeland had yielded gaily. ‘You can each have a puppy, pedigrees.’
In the time between then and now, Kitty had resolutely refused to go to Mor Penty. Joe was disappointed at her obstinacy. It was unkind of her, and hinted of jealousy over her brother not needing her support any more.
‘It doesn’t make sense,’ Joe had mentioned to Beth. ‘It’s understandable Kitty might have reservations, but I’d have thought she would have been pleased. Mrs Copeland came across as sincerely sorry. Marriage and family life are important. Mr Copeland doesn’t seem full of recriminations and he and the children are happy. I’d have thought that should be enough for Kitty, her nephew and niece having both their parents together. I wish my father hadn’t died. It would be heaven to have both my parents.’
‘I agree with you, Joe but it’s best not to say anything to Kitty.’ Beth had smiled but Joe had seen doubt in the smile. ‘Hopefully she’ll come round in time.’
‘We’re t
here!’ Lily cheeped merrily, bringing Joe out of his reverie.
The boys cycled past the new conservatory and went round to the back of the vicarage and stopped at the French windows, outside the room next to the dining room, where they had been asked to go. The parlour maid, Winifred, trim in a straight black dress, starched white apron and frilled cap, opened the windows and beckoned them inside. ‘The Reverend Benedict is busy in his study, but I’m to take you through to Miss Howard-Leigh.’
The children followed Winifred through the room out into a long passage towards the dining room. Impressed by the modern, light decorating, the latest in geometric pictures and square lines of furniture, Lily glanced up at Richard to show her awed expression. He shrugged his shoulders. Lily’s short legs left her behind but Richard reached back and dragged her into line. Despite his frequent protests about having too much of the ‘little pest’s irritating company’ Lily was one of the gang. His protectiveness of Lily made Joe smile wryly.
‘Master Joseph Vyvyan and friends, madam,’ Winifred announced.
‘Thank you,’ Bettany Howard-Leigh replied, her voice clear and top-drawer. ‘I think this jolly trio of helpers would appreciate some warm milk and biscuits in a few minutes, in the kitchen.’
‘Yes, madam.’
‘It’s splendid of you all to bring the items for the bran tub. Well, Master Joseph, you must introduce me to your friends, and then you all must tell me what you think about the arrangements made so far for the tea party. Early this morning Mr Benedict was helped by Mr Tresaile from the public house and the gardener Reseigh to place the tables and chairs in position. Over there in the corner is the tub, decorated and ready for the bran and little parcels to go in.’ Bettany Howard-Leigh was thin in body and seemed unbending, but her rounded face and large blue, slightly slanting eyes made her look quite fetching. She wasn’t fussy in dress and wore a simple long cardigan and a plain overblouse and matching pleated skirt. A short row of blue beads was round her elegant neck. Pinned on her blouse was a brooch of a man and woman in evening dress, dancing. Her brown hair was lightly waved and flat over her scalp. Joe felt she wasn’t as at ease as expected for a lady of means, leisure and excellent expectations.
Reflections Page 9