White Rivers

by White Rivers (retail) (epub)

By then Skye had told him everything about the attack on the German boys and the outcome of it. And of her plans for Lily and herself to become shopkeepers, aided at present only by young Ethan Pengelly.

  ‘I admire you both greatly,’ David said. ‘But I presume you’ve alerted your insurance company to assess the damage and make a sensible claim? And you must certainly be advised by your lawyer to see where you can press charges.’

  ‘I don’t intend to press any charges,’ Skye said, but she was quickly realising she hadn’t been nearly as efficient as she should have been. Or rather, she had been too efficient. She had cleared away all the visible evidence… and she hadn’t yet given a thought to any insurance claim. ‘My cousin Theo refuses to send these youths home, and I’ve no intention of allowing them back to work to stir up more trouble. But the mere fact that they remain in Cornwall will have just as explosive an effect on the clayworkers as if they were working, so we’re at stalemate.’

  ‘Then what is it you want of me?’

  ‘I want you to write a brief and unemotional article for the newspaper detailing everything that happened here the other night, and what’s happened since. I’ll give you all the details, names and everything. And then I want you to print my personal article alongside it, written in the way I wrote those I sent home from the front. This time I shall try to appeal to people’s reason, to try to make them see that this hostility has got to end, or we shall never attain a real peace. I also want you to do some extensive advertising for the pottery showrooms, and I will already have stated frankly the reason why Lily and I are there. What do you say?’

  Her voice had become impassioned, but she felt her heart leap as he looked at her uneasily without speaking. Surely he wasn’t going to refuse? It had all seemed so cut and dried when she and Lily had discussed it.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’ Lily demanded. ‘Isn’t she marvellous to want to put things right?’

  ‘I’ve always thought she was marvellous,’ David said dryly. ‘But I have to tell you something. When I said I had heard something about the attack on the Germans, I didn’t tell you the whole truth. One of my reporters has a relative working at Killigrew Clay, who was quick to pass on the story of the beatings. He’s already interviewed some of the clayworkers and got their side of the story, and I’m afraid it will appear in the next issue of The Informer, with plenty of self-righteous quotes from those concerned. And there are still plenty of folk who agree with their sentiments.’

  ‘Then include your impartial viewpoint article alongside it to counter the damage that’s been done!’ Skye said swiftly. ‘I’ll get my own copy out as quickly as possible – not that I’ve even begun to work on it yet. Everything’s been happening so fast…’

  Her voice died away as he shook his head. ‘It can’t be done, my dear. The next issue has already gone to press, and whatever we have to say won’t appear until a week later, and I fear that public opinion will already be swayed by then.’

  The two women stared at him with sick hearts. The plan had seemed so perfect, so courageous, and now it seemed that the clayers had successfully undermined even that. At that moment Skye hated them all.

  ‘But you’ll still do it?’ Lily snapped. ‘You won’t let us down, will you? And we need the advertising too. We don’t intend to let these devils win, David.’

  He saw the fiery resolution in her eyes. Those goddamned, treacherously beautiful Tremayne eyes, no matter what name any of them married into. One of these women alone was strong enough. The two of them together were formidable.

  ‘Of course I won’t let you down,’ he said.

  After he left, each of the two women tried not to show how depressed they were. But they knew the timing was all wrong.

  If only Skye had got her words into the newspaper first. They both knew that if public opinion hadn’t actually been swayed by her article, then at least the voice of reason would have been heard. She was well respected as the granddaughter of old Morwen Tremayne, even if she was an American. As it was, if feelings ran high enough for the townsfolk to join forces with the clayworkers while the German youths were still here, it could so easily turn into a witch hunt. And God only knew how it would end.

  ‘It’s all Theo’s fault,’ Lily burst out. ‘If he wasn’t so bloody pig-headed—’

  ‘It’s no use blaming him, Lily. We should all have seen this coming.’

  ‘And who arranged for them to come here in the first place? It was Theo, wasn’t it?’ Lily demanded.

  ‘All right, but don’t let’s talk about it any more,’ Skye said wearily. ‘I’ve had just about enough for one day.’

  She turned almost thankfully when Mrs Arden announced that there was another visitor, and handed Skye a business card. She read Nicholas Pengelly’s name on it, and it was more than she could do to turn him away.

  ‘Please ask Mr Pengelly to come in,’ she told her housekeeper.

  ‘Adam?’ Lily said, clearly preparing to stand her ground and argue the toss with her sister’s husband.

  ‘No, it’s Nick.’

  ‘Then I’ll make myself scarce. He obviously wants to talk to you about business matters, and I could do with an early night. Goodnight, darling.’

  As she left the room, Skye felt a moment’s panic, wanting to say that there was no need for her to go. And that anything she and Nick had to discuss could be said freely in front of Lily, since the two of them were temporary business partners now. But the words stuck in her throat as Nick came into the room, his face stormy.

  ‘I’ve been talking to my brothers, and wondering if the whole world’s gone mad, and you in particular,’ he said. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Skye?’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Skye stared at him, open-mouthed. This certainly wasn’t what she expected, or deserved. It had been one hell of a day, and her temper erupted.

  ‘What do you mean, what do I think I’m doing? Have you the faintest idea of what’s been happening here while you’ve been sitting on your backside in Bodmin?’ She saw slight amusement twitch his mouth as the unlikely word slid from her lips. It only infuriated her more. ‘And I suppose you think it’s funny that I’m probably about to be ruined, and that most of my family relationships are in tatters!’ To say nothing of ours…

  ‘I don’t think it’s funny at all,’ he said sharply. ‘What I think is that you’ve been an idiot for allowing yourself to be drawn into this situation because of the rank stupidity of your cousin.’

  ‘You think I don’t know that!’

  Her mouth suddenly trembled violently, and without either of them knowing quite how it happened, he had crossed the room and she was being held tightly in his arms.

  ‘Sweetheart, this last month must have been sheer hell for you, and I have never felt more impotent at being unable to help you,’ he muttered against her burning cheek.

  Impotent? the mischievous little devil inside her echoed the word; he was never that… But she sobered at once, because this was no time for such thoughts. She clung to him for a moment longer and then pushed him away. ‘Nick, we can’t – not yet, not now…’

  ‘I know,’ he said, more gravely. ‘We have serious business to discuss.’

  ‘Do we?’ she asked, not yet knowing why he was here, nor why he had railed at her so furiously. She moved away from him and sat down abruptly on an armchair, her hands crossed primly in her lap.

  He had to force out of his mind the image of her in a far less formal pose, when she had lain so erotically in his arms, each pleasuring the other, with nothing between them but their own glistening flesh. And love. So much love.

  ‘I’ve done something wrong, haven’t I?’ she said, half defensively, half apologetically.

  ‘You could say that,’ Nick sighed, seating himself on another chair and careful to keep his distance. He had already forgotten himself once, when faced with her haunting beauty, but this was still a house of mourning, and some servant or other might appe
ar at any moment to offer him refreshment that he didn’t want. He only wanted her… He cleared his throat.

  ‘What have I done?’ she asked. ‘You know what’s happened, and by now the whole community is probably taking sides.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m here about. Ethan tells me you and he spent hours this morning clearing up the mess in the pottery, and that you and Vera’s sister intend to manage it yourselves until things get back to some kind of normality.’

  ‘Is there anything wrong with that?’

  ‘Just this, my sweet, headstrong little idiot. You should have touched nothing until the police and the insurance assessors arrived. You should have telephoned me at once for advice, not rushed into things with all the rashness of Theo Tremayne.’

  ‘Well, thank you for that!’ Skye said, blazing now. ‘If you wanted to heap insult onto insult you couldn’t have done a better job. But for your information I don’t intend to press any charges and stir up even more trouble.’

  ‘You’ll stir up trouble if you don’t! Can’t you see that folk will simply think you’re letting these vandals get away with it?’

  ‘And what of them? Do you think they’ll be pressing charges against the clayers who half killed them? There’s been no sign of them since that night, and I should imagine they’re too scared to show themselves. I prefer to let sleeping dogs lie, and Lily and I will do exactly what we’ve decided to do.’

  He saw her challenging eyes and shrugged. ‘Then I can’t make up my mind whether you’re a courageous woman or a blind fool. I know one thing though.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Skye snapped, resentful to her fingertips at his high-handed attitude.

  ‘Those German boys have got to leave Cornwall.’

  ‘Try telling that to Theo. He won’t listen to me. They’re still owed some wages, and I doubt that they’ll go peaceably without that, either.’

  ‘Let’s leave Theo out of this. If you’ve got the details and the funds here, we’ll do the job ourselves.’

  Skye stared at him, not understanding. This was the upright lawyer who never put a foot wrong, and right now he sounded for all the world like a villain planning a robbery. Or something else… Surely he wasn’t suggesting that they smuggle the German boys out of the country?

  ‘What job?’ she queried.

  * * *

  In the early hours of the following morning, Skye and Nick returned to New World, exhausted, but having achieved their goal. After thrashing through their plans, they had gone straight to the lodging house, surprising the German youths. And dealing with them hadn’t been nearly as traumatic as Skye had anticipated.

  By now they were more like frightened children, cut off from society and virtual prisoners in their lodgings. The once-sympathetic landlady was glad to be rid of them, and the boys were almost pathetic in their anxiety to return to Germany on the night packet from the St Austell port at Charleston. Nick’s authoritative voice was enough to make them agree to anything.

  They were still bloodied and bruised, but the wages for the work they had done pacified them, even though they were denied the bonuses in order to pay for the damages. It would never cover it all, but Skye was prepared to go halfway. Nick had been openly disapproving, and was more for sending the boys home in disgrace with no favours at all.

  ‘What good would that do?’ Skye argued. ‘I need to continue good relations with our export clients, and Hans Kauffmann will get a detailed letter from me explaining the situation. He’s a fair man, and I know he’ll understand.’

  ‘Then you have more faith in human nature than I do,’ Nick said dryly.

  But they had finally got the youths onto the packet ship and breathed a sigh of relief as they returned to New World. They had taken two cars in order to transport them to the port. There was no need for Nick to return with her, she told him, but the night was dark and she would be a woman alone, so chivalry won. But for the first time Skye felt awkward as they stood outside the house together.

  ‘Don’t come in,’ she murmured. ‘It would look odd, you being here at this hour, but I do want to thank you, Nick.’

  ‘I don’t want your thanks,’ he said roughly. ‘I just want you to turn to me whenever you need me. And I want you to need me, and to miss me, damn it!’

  ‘You know that I do,’ she whispered with quiet dignity. ‘But I can’t think about anything but the pottery right now, and how to salvage things. Theo will be furious when he discovers what we’ve done.’

  He could see that she was too exhausted to think of more personal matters, and no matter how he longed to take her in his arms and kiss away all the hurt and fears, he knew that he must not. Her spirit was strong, but there was a fragility about her now that touched his soul.

  ‘Then let me put one worry at rest. I’ll contact the insurance people and assure them that I’ve seen the damage and can vouch for what happened. And that you needed to get reorganised as quickly as possible for the Christmas business. It won’t please them, but they’ll take my word for it.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He hesitated, but it had to be said sometime, and now was as good a time as any. ‘And one last thing, Skye. Through a business colleague I’ve contacted Ruth Dobson, and the encyclopaedias are on their way to her. She fully understands your wishes not to make any further contact.’

  He didn’t elaborate, but he saw the tightening of Skye’s mouth as she nodded, turned, and went inside the house. And he got back into his car and drove away like the wind, savage with frustration that he couldn’t do more for her, and be with her, and love her. He hated himself for having brought up Ruth Dobson’s name at this time, but he was ever mindful of fulfilling his legal obligations.

  Which was about as hypocritical as he could get, he thought angrily, considering what he had persuaded Skye to do tonight. Hustling those boys out of the country and giving them their freedom, when by rights they should be brought to justice for their vandalism.

  But so should the clayers for their brutality, his inner voice argued. And he gave up the intrusion of his bloody legal training that made him see two sides to every question and went home to bed for a couple of hours of much-needed sleep. The next issue of The Informer was due out that morning, and both he and Skye knew they could expect to see the garbled and one-sided reports from the clayworkers about their rights, and the indignant backlash against hiring the German boys.

  Skye had no doubt that every clayworker who had a voice would have said they’d been against the import of the youths from the start, and they had only got what they deserved. By the time the article ended, the clayers would be whiter than white, and their actions against the boys would be seen as no more than rightful retaliation.

  And didn’t she know only too well how an astute choice of words could always sway folk to whatever conclusion was intended? She shivered as she crawled into bed, knowing she must get her own article started as soon as possible. As soon as she could get her thoughts together. But first thing tomorrow morning there was something else she had to do.

  * * *

  ‘You’ve done what!’ Theo exploded when she telephoned him from the showroom, having decided to be as far away from him as possible when she did so.

  ‘The German boys went back on the night packet from Charleston, so there’ll be no more trouble from them. I’ve already telephoned David Kingsley to make sure he includes the information when there’s a fuller report on events in next week’s newspaper,’ she said in a clipped, decisive voice.

  ‘You had no right to do this without consulting me!’

  ‘Theo, I’ve consulted you until I’m blue in the face and got nowhere. Can’t you see that now we’ve removed the obstacle, there’s nothing to stop the clayers and the potters from returning to work?’

  There was silence for a moment, and then Theo snapped into the phone, ‘I doubt that very much! You bloody Tremayne women have always taken too much on yourselves.’

  ‘Thank you cuz, I take that as a
compliment,’ Skye said sweetly, but her heart was pounding all the same.

  ‘It wasn’t bloody well meant to be,’ he snarled. ‘And don’t be so sure that’ll be an end to it, either. The clayers will feel you’ve betrayed ’em again.’

  ‘Why will they? You said they’d strike if the boys returned to work, so how long did you expect to keep them here doing nothing?’ she said, but her stomach was clenching with anxiety. ‘They paid the price for being normal healthy young men, and you were never slow to blame the girls for enticing them on.’

  ‘And you think that excuses the shitheads for smashing up White Rivers, do you? Christ Almighty, woman, you’re more bloody forgiving than a barrelful of nuns!’

  Skye slammed down the phone while he was still ranting on. She shook all over, but she still believed she and Nick had done the only thing possible. And she was still determined not to press charges. Foolish or not, it was her decision, and she intended to stand by it.

  ‘Are you all right, Skye?’ she heard Lily’s voice as if it came from a long distance away. ‘Don’t let the swine upset you. He’s not worth it.’

  ‘You’re right. He’s not,’ Skye said, drawing a deep breath. ‘So let’s get on with what we intend to do.’

  But Theo’s words had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. Surely, with the German boys gone, there was no reason why work couldn’t resume as normal. Theo had always been in the wrong to bring them here in the first place, and to insist on keeping them here now. But she knew she was reckoning without the perversity of the clayworkers, and the way her cousin could twist folk around to his way of thinking.

  He had been in the clay business far longer than she had, and he knew the men. They had wanted blood and they had got it, but maybe now they would see Skye’s attempt to pacify things as a shifty way of getting the boys out of harm’s way, and to her own advantage for selling her pottery goods.

  If it were so, then despite all the damage that had been done to her property, she would be seen as being still more on the foreigners’ side than her own countryfolks’.