‘I gathered that,’ Evie said. ‘You’ve been downhearted ever since the Grand Tea Party was ruined, and the Copelands’ sudden departure. You’re not blaming yourself, are you? Over Gabby Magor upsetting the family with her bullish ways? I gathered Kitty was very cross that they decided to shoot off home, but surely that was the right thing to do to mend their marriage properly and get the children settled down to the fresh start. Your mood isn’t something to do with Mark, is it? Do you really like him? Has Gabby’s big mouth spoiled any chance you were hoping you had with him? I know he was working at Owles House yesterday. Did he ignore you? Were you both embarrassed?’
‘It’s nothing to do with Mark,’ Beth answered so vehemently that she slumped her shoulders. ‘I wish it were just that. Yesterday we simply behaved as if nothing had happened. Hopefully, people will soon forget Gabby’s silly mischief-making remarks. Mark’s an attractive man but we could never have a future together. Anyway, I don’t think I’m fated for love and all that goes with it.’
‘You can’t possibly know that, Beth.’
‘But none of that is important, Evie. The thing is, and this may shock you, before I left Wiltshire to come down here for the first time I did a terrible thing, something without thought or honour and I’ve been found out.’ In tense, short, rapid sentences, Beth told Evie everything about her affair with Stuart, how Kitty had comforted her during her miscarriage without knowing the baby’s father was Stuart, the alliance she had gladly made with the prodigal Connie to reclaim Stuart, her children and their marriage, and how Gabby had overheard her and Connie talking on the beach.
‘I’m not shocked, Beth,’ Evie replied, although her eyes had widened considerably. ‘Not in the horrified sense but I am amazed. And now Gabby is trying to blackmail you?’
‘She was but not any more. I wasn’t going to allow that to happen. I knew I couldn’t go on with the deception of my dearest friend any longer, so I went to Claze Wyn to confront Gabby, to tell her that I was going to tell Kitty everything, the whole sordid story. I can’t tell you how horrible the condition of Gabby’s home was, but the peculiar thing is, when Gabby saw how wet, cold and muddy I was from a fall on my way there, she was a little kind to me. She told me a bit about her life, how she was bullied as a child, and as strange as it seems we sort of formed an understanding. I was touched at the way she wanted to spend most of the money she’d intended to demand from me on her cousin.’
When Evie had heard the rest of the tale, she whistled through her teeth, a habit she had picked up from Rob, and one she would not dare perform in her father’s presence as he would jump on it as a way to snipe at Rob, something he did every day. ‘And you actually took her into St Austell dressed the way she does? Does Kitty know that?’
‘Yes, I picked Gabby up as planned but I wasn’t going to hide it from Kitty. It would have been impossible anyway. Gabby made the car reek. Kitty insisted on helping me wash and disinfect all the leather work and polish the wood. Then we left the doors open for a few hours. ‘I can’t believe you did such a favour for that dirty troublemaker,’ Kitty said, and she went on about it for hours. I told her I didn’t really have a choice as I’d almost knocked Gabby and Tickle down in the lane and I had to do something to make it up to her. It wasn’t strictly a lie. Gabby was so excited about riding in the car and having money to spend she jumped right out in front of me. She and Tickle were very lucky they weren’t mown down. Gabby made quite a sight in the town and shop managers were none too pleased to have her enter their premises, but she was unusually polite and so childlike she succeeded in getting all that she wanted. On the way back she asked my advice about a lot of things but I won’t go into that now.
‘Well, as you’ve probably guessed I went to see Stuart and Connie to tell them I intend to come clean with Kitty. Stuart tried his hardest to talk me out of it but I refused and then I asked them to leave as soon as it could be arranged. Like me, Stuart is afraid that Kitty will never forgive either of us. I promised I’d give the family plenty of time to settle in at home before I talk to Kitty. That was four days ago now and I’m trying to work up the courage to do it. In the meantime I’ve told Mum – she knew already that I’d had a miscarriage – so she knows what to expect when I make my big confession. I wanted you to know too, Evie, in case Kitty gets so upset she makes it public to shame me, and I wouldn’t blame her if she does. I didn’t want you to hear about it through inaccurate rumours. Of course, she may simply pack up and leave and wish to never see me again. I know it’s going to be awful, the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And if all hell is let loose I shall lose nearly all of Portcowl’s respect and my life here will never be the same again. I don’t think there’s the risk Gabby will come after me again for money, but in the end I can’t go on denying Kitty the truth. She will think I’ve been playing her for a fool and she doesn’t deserve to have it go on.’
Eighteen
Beth was fighting against an immense weight and the cold in her bones was shattering and overwhelmingly cruel. Clawing tentacles of foul salt water were dragging her down to her death. She was in the sea and it was killing her. Reason broke through her anguish and terror. It’s a dream, a terrible mocking nightmare and I deserve to be taunted in this degrading way. I’m contemptible. Her guilt was punishing her. In her dream state she knew she could force herself awake with a heart-wrenching shudder, gasping to breathe, but she abandoned the fight and allowed the freezing saturation of the sea, the eternal master of humankind to engulf her, to pull her down and down. She accepted her watery grave.
* * *
‘Are you going to tell me what’s troubling you, Beth, or do I have to drag it out of you?’ Kitty demanded.
Beth swallowed hard, already near to tears over what she was going to say and the fear of the consequences. Any moment now the salty drops would spear down her frozen cheeks and spatter on the cold hard ground at her feet. She had asked Kitty to take a walk with her, without the dogs. In sight was Young Man’s Folly and not far behind them the woods that closed in on Owles House. The cliff graduated down in sweeping stages, until reaching a sheer thirty-foot drop. When the tide was out it would reveal, from here, a thin line of beach.
‘Beth, you’re frightening me. You’ve been wan and preoccupied for days, and now you look ill and you’ve gone ghostly white. What is it? I know you haven’t had a serious quarrel with anyone so it’s not that. Is something wrong with Christina?’
Beth shook her head wretchedly, barely able to scrape her eyes off the unyielding rock and meet Kitty’s anxious expression.
‘Is it about yourself? Are you seriously ill? Is that what you’re trying to say? Beth, tell me!’
‘Oh, Kitty,’ Beth grabbed her arm but immediately let it go. ‘You are going to hate me.’
‘Don’t be daft.’ Kitty frowned. ‘You couldn’t possibly do anything to make me hate you.’
‘But you will, Kitty.’ The huge tears, building up painfully in Beth’s heart since her talk to Evie, hit the cold air and washed down her face, staining streaks on her crimson skin. ‘I’ve been deceiving you for over two years.’
‘What? I don’t understand. How could that happen? There’s nothing—’
‘But there is,’ Beth cut in, unable to bear Kitty’s bewilderment. ‘I’ll only have to mention one name and you’ll guess what I’m trying to tell you. St–Stuart…’
‘Stuart? What about him?’ Kitty pondered, compressing her lips. Moment after moment passed each like an aching torturous lifetime to Beth. Then Kitty’s drawn brow furrowed deeply and her jaw sagged down and her beautiful eyes leapt into planet size. ‘No…’ she mouthed. She shook her head. ‘You mean… you’re saying… you and he, you and Stuart!’
‘I’m so sorry, Kitty,’ Beth sobbed, a trembling hand across her mouth, her look imploring Kitty for forgiveness. Her legs felt like water and she feared she would sink down to her knees.
‘It was Stuart who fathered your baby.’ Kitty’s voice rose in h
orror and disbelief, shaken to the roots of her soul. ‘So that’s why Connie left him. He was the first to have an affair, and all this time I’ve been blaming her for the marriage break-up. Stuart strayed with you. How could you? You betrayed us all. Stuart was a happily married man. You had no right to go after him. You should have walked away the moment you felt attracted to him. Poor Connie, she must have been humiliated. It’s no wonder she fell for the first lounge lizard that crossed her path. And what about Louis and Martha? They’ve been through hell because of you. I can see now why my stupid errant brother so readily took Connie back. It was more than loneliness. He had a guilty conscience. Both of you betrayed the rest of us. You were supposed to be my dearest friend. I can’t believe you did this!’ She ended with a piercing shriek and it echoed across the wide, open spaces of the air and the churning grey sea. She was shaking from head to foot in shock and fury. ‘Sorry? You’re sorry? Like hell you are. How dare you do that to all of us. You bitch! You bloody disgusting bitch! Did Stuart know about the baby?’
‘Yes,’ Beth nodded feebly.
‘And I suppose he was relieved when you miscarried. A very neat solution for him.’ Kitty issued sarcasm and disgust like darts.
‘I’m sorry, so very sorry, please believe me, Kitty,’ Beth pleaded. She would go down on her knees if necessary.
‘Did you love Stuart? Or was it just wicked fun? You soon fell out of love with him, that’s apparent. When he asked to come down here the moment Connie had deserted him you brushed him off. Now I understand your reluctance when he asked if he could bring the children down for a long stay. You must have been appalled that he wanted to stay in your home. I suppose it must have frightened you when Connie suddenly turned up with Stuart and the children at Owles House. My God, but now I think about it you and Connie were thick as thieves. You spoke up for her whenever I mentioned my doubts about her repentance and honesty. You wanted her back with Stuart. Why? Out of guilt?’ Kitty’s gorgeous looks took on an ugly expression. ‘Or was it from a sense of sisterhood of dirty whores? Why should I feel sorry for her? She hurt her own children. You both hurt them. And to think you came down to Cornwall to seek revenge on the mother you thought wrongly had abandoned you. Portcowl couldn’t see a bigger hypocrite! You took on the cause of a woman who actually abandoned her own children, and no doubt at one point you would have gone off with Stuart and denied my precious niece and nephew their father.’
‘Kitty, please, can’t we talk this through?’
‘No we damned well cannot! How dare you throw all this on me? It was your burden not mine. I didn’t want this truth of yours. I’d rather have stayed ignorant. You’re utterly selfish, Beth Tresaile. If I’d have found out all this from Gabby Magor’s poisonous tongue I could have coped better with that than this confession of yours.’
‘Kitty, please, I couldn’t help falling in love with Stuart. I’ve been sorry about it ever since. We both regretted it and ended it long before I lost the baby.’
Pulling off her thick gloves, Kitty wrung her hands together then held them up claw like, and Beth knew she was aching to scratch her face to ribbons. ‘The baby, I stayed with you throughout your pain and heartbreak not knowing it would have been my niece or nephew. Wait! Why are you telling me this now? Something must have happened other than Connie’s reappearance. That’s it, isn’t it? Are you going to own up or do you intend to keep that from me and go on being a vile deceiver?’
With an effort, Beth forced out one slow ragged word at a time for she was finding it hard to breathe over her despair and Kitty’s loathing. Her guilt had intensified and she was disgusted with herself. Her confession had shocked caring, kind-hearted Kitty into this dreadful display of hostility and made it all the more appalling. ‘Gabby… Magor… she… was… going… to… blackmail… me.’
Kitty howled like an animal in dire pain. ‘So you were only thinking about yourself! You selfish evil bitch!’
‘No! It’s not like that at all,’ Beth wailed, her desperate plea making her gag and choke, and her laboured breathing making her light-headed. ‘Please let me explain.’
Beth reached despairing hands to catch hold of Kitty, but Kitty moved smartly and pushed her away. ‘No! Don’t you dare touch me! I can’t bear to look at you another second. You feared I’d hate you and I do! I hate you with all my heart and strength. I’m going back to pack and I never want to see or hear from you again.’
Beth was brought to stagger forward, her hands still aimed at Kitty as she tried to regain her balance. ‘Get away from me!’ Kitty screamed in utter repulsion and she shoved hard on Beth’s chest. ‘You make me sick!’
Beth was sent backward and then she was falling from the edge of the cliff path. She grabbed a bare thorn bush, the spikes ripping through her glove and one foot hit a rock ledge covered with loose scree, which was sent scattering down. With a struggle she managed to catch her other foot on a ledge. She searched up with her free foot for the ledge. Halted in storming off, Kitty stared down on her coldly.
Gasping for energy Beth lunged up for the thorn bush and there was a terrible tearing sound as the old bush was pulled up from the roots. The cliff, covered in withered grass and dead heather, sloped away sharply and Beth cried out in pain and fear as she slid and slithered down and down, her front hitting hidden rocks. She tried to use her feet as brakes but could gain nothing solid and her plunge went on and on. ‘Kitty, help me!’
She reached the cliff edge and there was an overhang and Beth sought wildly to get a grip on it. Then she was falling into space, hurtling down and down, too numb to scream until she hit the freezing salt water with a bone-jarring splash. Her leg slammed against submerged rock and her flailing hands failed to get a grip on the slippery jagged granite. Her weight took her down. The icy cold took her down to ever more coldness. She lacked the strength for a fight to the surface. She wasn’t having a nightmare, this was really happening to her.
She was in the sea and she was drowning. Her last thought was how heartbroken her mother would be to lose another loved one to the sea. Beth had told the truth but the truth was not worth the price Kitty and other innocents would have to pay.
Nineteen
Jacob was in his study, his place of retreat, and even more so since Bettany had fled the vicarage during his first important social event. During the following sleepless nights and often throughout the days, he had paced the square room and berated himself for being an idiot, a hopeless lover and a blind fool to Bettany’s needs. He had been thoughtless to plan the tea party to coincide with her first stay at her new home. He had given no heed to his duty to romance, to continue wooing her. He had left her alone too often, taken her for granted. Any woman would hate taking second place in her future husband’s life. That sort of thing had been necessary during the Great War, the duty of all men had to be warrior first, to fight for liberty and justice, to provide a safer world for their loved ones, for King, country and Empire. Actually, his first duty was to God, but God would not have expected him to be such a crushing fool in his decisions. The social event should have been held at another time. It was his irresponsibility, his disappointing her, that had led to Bettany getting flaky while delivering her speech. The incident with Gabby Magor had been unfortunate, but Jacob could not blame the unsanitary harridan. He had let Bettany down badly, and his parish too. It was justice that since then Bettany’s answers to his telephone calls had been brief and increasingly offhand and condemnatory.
It was his own fault that his favourite room had taken on the gloom its former incapable incumbent had left it in. Jacob had ordered the shutters to be permanently thrown back, for the last sticks of squat leg furniture to be hidden away up in the attics, the dull glass frontage to be removed from all the bookshelves, and the few sombre pious paintings to be replaced by his own collection of colourful Renaissance style religious dramas. He had a large pottery Celtic cross, which Bettany had admired on her arrival, and he, the inadequate inexperienced swain that he wa
s, along with Bettany’s approval of the new bathroom, conservatory and grounds, had taken that for her utter delight in him and the vicarage. How blind and pathetic he had been. The study might as well still be dank and carpetless. He could hardly concentrate on his parish work in here any more.
He had preached the same sermon at both Sunday services, his theme forgiveness, and he had humbly asked his increased (probably just temporary) congregations to forgive him for not ensuring the previous day’s event had gone as it should have. He had thanked the attendees and donation givers to the two good causes, announcing that his flock and the Methodist flock, and other contributors, had done themselves proud, that the very satisfying sum of seventy-two pounds, eight shillings, four and a half pence had been raised.
His eyes caught the pile of post idling on his desk, official stuff mostly, where he had dumped it when Mrs Morcombe had brought it in to him. He couldn’t keep ignoring his duties. Clearing his throat apologetically to God and his correspondents, perhaps charities asking for help, he summoned up some purpose and strode to the desk, and after a weary sigh, got on with his job. The weight of the letters was satisfying in his hand, it would be a worthy distraction to his pained mind. Answering everyone today and meticulously would see him spend a good deal of time, then it would be time for luncheon, and then he would make a call on someone. He had no planned engagements for this afternoon but he would make at least two calls. He favoured Rob Praed, who was to return to the Our Lily to do light work next week. Jacob liked Rob, the rough diamond, now softened and more pliable since the boat incident and his engagement. Rob’s flintiness was underlined with a forthright wit, and he was intelligent and keen for warrior-like banter, which Jacob found little opportunity for among the other local men. They were either accepting or stoical with their lot or ambition driven. Rob had not reached a point of forgiveness yet for his cousin Douglas, but it spoke a lot of Rob’s worth that he was prepared to work with Douglas again. Douglas’s return on the boat had, apparently, caused friction and his father had ordered him off again. Jacob would be interested to learn more about that from Rob.
Reflections Page 16