Kilgarthen

by Kilgarthen (retail) (epub)

  She swung round to face the way she had come and made her way back to the road. She would stay here in this village, live in Bill’s cottage, for years if she had to, until she was either fed up with Kilgarthen or had learned all she needed to, and cold-hearted brutes like Spencer Jeffries wouldn’t drive her away.

  She’d return to Daisy’s and telephone Andrew and ask him to send down some of her things. Then she’d catch the next bus into Launceston to buy some clothes more suited to moorland living.

  * * *

  Laura bought a pair of warm trousers, some thick stockings and a sturdy pair of fur-lined boots. Daisy’s old brown coat was serviceable enough for the moorland and she bought a woollen scarf with hat and gloves to match. Loaded down with shopping bags and parcels, she called into a bakery in Westgate Street to buy a treat for Daisy for tea. Daisy had a baker’s van call every day at the shop and she sold a variety of cakes and bread. Laura was looking for something different.

  ‘Saffron cake?’ the shop assistant suggested, pointing to a shelf filled with the yellow loaf-shaped cakes.

  ‘No, we’ve had some of that.’ Laura bent forward to peer through the glass showcases. ‘And hevva cake and scones. As it’s nearing Christmas, perhaps some mince pies.’

  ‘May I recommend the fancies,’ a voice from behind startled her. ‘From this bakery they are excellent.’

  Laura recognised Harry Lean’s voice. She turned to find him winking at the shop girl. ‘I’ll choose for myself,’ she retorted crossly.

  ‘Then let me hold your shopping while you make up your mind,’ Harry offered, extending his arms. He looked handsome and elegant in a dark three-piece suit topped with a dark wool coat. He doffed his hat to her.

  Laura wanted to say no and tell him to go away, but because she couldn’t carry much more and she wanted to call in at a chemist before catching the bus home, it made sense to accept his offer. ‘You can carry these,’ she said ungraciously, holding out a couple of the heavier bags and the box with her boots in it.

  He took them from her with one of his habitual broad smiles. Laura sighed impatiently when she saw that the shop assistant was gazing at him with admiration. ‘I’ll take half a dozen mixed fancies,’ she snapped.

  ‘Inviting me to tea?’ Harry drawled over her shoulder. ‘No, I am not,’ she hissed back under her breath. This man brought her quickly to the point of exasperation. Why should she explain that although it seemed a lot to buy, Bunty would share them too.

  ‘Don’t tell me you and old Ma Tamblyn are going to wolf down the lot? You’ll ruin your delectable slender figure.’

  ‘Mr Lean, I would be grateful if you would keep your personal remarks to yourself!’

  Laura banged a ten-shilling note on the counter and the shop girl gave her the change with her mouth agape. Harry winked at her. ‘Don’t worry, she loves me really.’ The girl broke into a fit of giggles and Laura marched out of the baker’s shop indignantly.

  ‘How dare you say things like that,’ she snarled at Harry as they walked along the pavement and through Southgate Arch, part of the wall that had enclosed the market town in medieval days and was a uniquely splendid entrance to the narrow streets. She tried to ignore him by looking at the curious sight of the sycamore tree that grew out of the grey stone of the arch wall.

  ‘Where’s your sense of humour?’ he laughed.

  ‘I haven’t got one, and what do you expect anyway? I’ve recently been widowed.’

  ‘According to what I’ve heard from my London colleagues, there was no love lost between you and Bill. I would have thought you must be glad he’s dead.’

  Laura turned on him in a whirl of fury, almost knocking another shopper off her feet. ‘I’m well aware that you know my true circumstances, Harry Lean, but I don’t appreciate having them thrown in my face. Maybe I didn’t love Bill at the end but his death was terrible and my whole world has been horrendously turned upside down! It’s a pity they no longer execute people in Launceston Castle because at this moment I’d like to see you hanging there.’ Tears coursed down Laura’s face and she tried to grab her shopping from him.

  Harry held the bags and parcel up out of her reach. His face had changed from its usual veneer of cynical amusement to embarrassed contrition. ‘I’m very sorry for everything I’ve said and how I’ve behaved towards you. Forgive me, Mrs Jennings, I’ve not been the least bit sensitive to your situation. Let me make it up to you. We could put these things in the bus, it doesn’t leave for an hour, then let me take you to lunch. You’ll feel better with a good meal and some excellent wine inside you. Or perhaps you’d prefer a drink in the Bell Inn?’

  ‘No, thank you. I just want to finish my shopping and wait for the bus to leave.’

  He waited for her outside while she went into the chemist’s shop to buy hand cream and toiletries. They walked in silence until they reached the bus stop, saying nothing as they put her shopping down on one of the front seats.

  ‘Thank you for your help,’ Laura said stonily.

  Harry lifted an inquiring eyebrow. ‘Are you sure you won’t change your mind about lunch?’

  ‘Quite sure. I have things to do.’

  ‘Before I go, Mrs Jennings, I have something for you.’ He took an envelope out of his coat pocket. ‘I have to drive through the village on my way home to Hawksmoor House. I was going to drop this into Mrs Tamblyn’s letter box. It’s from my mother, to you, inviting you to dinner next Wednesday evening, if you’re still in the village. I hope you won’t refuse because I’ve upset you.’

  Laura took the envelope from him, glancing down at the neat handwriting that spelled her name. ‘Thank you, Mr Lean. I’ll see if I’m free.’

  As the ancient bus trundled the nine and a half miles to Kilgarthen, Laura thought about the sudden change her outburst had wrought in Harry Lean. ‘So you have a little bit of heart, after all,’ she said to the image of him in her mind. Something Bill, his half-brother, had not possessed at all.

  When she got back to the village she took her shopping to Bill’s cottage. She intended moving into Little Cot tomorrow and there was no sense in taking the parcels into Daisy’s. She dumped everything down on the dining table in the front room and looked at the fireplace. It was cold in here. Before she moved in she’d light the fire and range. She didn’t stop to think about what it might actually feel like to live in her husband’s beloved holiday home.

  She locked up the cottage and turned to walk up the hill to the shop. A movement across the road, by the lychgate, caught her attention. A man, someone she felt sure did not come from the village, dressed in a hunter’s hat and long overcoat, was watching her.

  Chapter 7

  Laura had banked down the front room fire the evening before so Little Cot was warm and aired when she and Daisy arrived there the following morning. Laura brought the few belongings she’d kept at Daisy’s, her overnight bag and the clothes and shoes she’d worn at Bill’s funeral.

  ‘I haven’t got much to put away,’ Laura said as Daisy carried a box of provisions into the kitchen. ‘You’ve kept the place in tip-top condition, Aunty Daisy. It won’t take me long to settle in.’

  ‘No one’s lived here on a permanent basis since my sister and her husband died,’ Daisy called out as she unpacked the box, putting things away. ‘Billy rented it then bought it off the Leans four years ago. Harry made him pay over the odds, I can tell you. How long do you think you’ll be staying here, Laura?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Laura said, looking out of the window at the lychgate across the road. ‘It depends on a lot of things.’ Daisy came back into the front room and joined her at the window. ‘What are you looking for?’

  ‘When I dropped off my shopping yesterday there was a strange man staring at me. He was standing over there. He didn’t look like he belonged to the village. I found it rather odd.’

  ‘You’re a beautiful young woman. You shouldn’t be surprised if men look at you. It was probably a holidaymaker. You can find
one or two about even at this time of the year. Probably someone who’s come here for the peace and quiet, maybe with an interest in the moor, a naturist or something.’

  ‘I think you mean naturalist, Aunty,’ Laura smiled. ‘A naturist is someone who likes to spend time outdoors in the nude.’

  Daisy laughed. ‘I hope we don’t see any of they round here. Not in weather like this anyway.’

  ‘Yes, it is cold today, the wind was really cutting on the short walk down here,’ Laura said, looking beyond the church walls to the rising moorland. ‘But thanks to you, it’s nice and cosy in here.’

  ‘You’ll get used to the weather down here.’ Daisy looked meaningfully at Laura. ‘This has been a cosy little place since Billy done it up. He got rid of the draughts and had the windows put in. Goodness knows where he got the bits and pieces, what with all the shortages. I think he’s done a good job here, don’t you?’

  Laura looked around the pleasant surroundings of the front room. She sniffed, she listened, she strained, feeling for an atmosphere. After several moments she returned Daisy’s searching gaze with an admission. ‘I suppose there is a comfortable feeling here.’

  ‘Are you surprised by that, Laura?’ Daisy asked gently.

  ‘Yes. It’s not in keeping with the character I knew Bill had.’

  Daisy looked thoughtful. ‘I think Billy saw you as a separate part of his life to what he had here.’

  ‘He must have done.’ Laura noticed a photograph of Bill’s parents and one of Daisy on the mantlepiece. There were several of Bill in the house but none of her. ‘I was only a means to an end. He knew I would have liked it here, how I would have enjoyed the community spirit.’

  Daisy put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t get bitter, please, Laura. Whatever you suffered at Billy’s hands, don’t let him do that to you.’

  ‘I do try not to. Sometimes I feel hate for him, other times I feel nothing. He stripped me of everything I once had, peace of mind, hope for the future, my father’s company which was my inheritance.’ Laura’s eyes dropped to the carpet. ‘Bill never raised a hand to me but his mental cruelty was in some ways much worse.’

  Daisy put a hand under her chin and raised it. ‘Don’t look down, Laura. I’ve seen you do it so many times in the few days I’ve known you. Look forward. You’re a lovely young woman, you’re only twenty-three years old, you have lots of years ahead of you. Believe there’s a future for you and it starts now. You’ll find real love one day, if you’re open to it.’

  Daisy looked so serious, so resolute, it lifted Laura’s spirit and made her smile. ‘Make decisions, that’s what my dad used to say when things were uncertain, and that’s what I’ve done. I’ve decided to move in here. I’ve telephoned Andrew and he’s going to send down some of my things and arrange for my bank account to be transferred down here. I’m going to make a point of meeting all the villagers and after that I’ll make a fresh lot of decisions. I want you, Aunty, to feel free to pop in any time you like, and you can tell that to Bunty too. Now, have you got time for a cup of tea?’

  Reassured, Daisy kissed Laura on the cheek. ‘You put the kettle on, dear. Bunty will be happy looking after the shop a bit longer. I’ll show you how to start the generator before I go. Billy showed me how to do it. When you get the hang of the range in the kitchen you’ll find that it will warm the cottage through upstairs and in the bathroom. There’s plenty of logs in the yard. With the Trebartha plantation so near we don’t have the worries of the coal shortage like the rest of the country, nor cuts in electricity,’ Daisy laughed ironically, ‘seeing as we haven’t got none. I’ll help you carry some logs through after our cuppa.’

  ‘The villagers must think me lucky having all mod cons here,’ Laura remarked when they were drinking tea at the kitchen table. ‘The bathroom is lovely. I recognise it from a design Bill was looking at in one of the company’s brochures. Are all bathrooms in Cornwall built downstairs?’

  Daisy looked at the door that separated the kitchen from the bathroom. ‘No. Billy had the back kitchen modernised and enlarged, taking in the little outdoor closet. Some of the villagers would love to take a look at it. Billy wouldn’t let anyone but me over the doorstep. Even Bunty hasn’t been inside the cottage since Billy’s parents died. I’ll tell her she’s welcome, I expect she’ll be down later today. You be careful who you invite in, though. Some will be nothing but nosy.’

  ‘Like Ada Prisk?’

  ‘Especially Ada Prisk. If you’re going to make a point of meeting all the villagers, I take it you’ll be accepting the invitation to dinner from Felicity Lean.’

  ‘Yes, it should prove interesting. I hope Harry won’t be there. His perpetual charm gets on my nerves.’

  ‘It would be wise to watch out for he. A confirmed bachelor that one. Likes to play the field. I can’t ever see Harry Lean settling down.’

  ‘I find it curious that a man like him lives in a small village, and with his mother. You’d think he would be attracted to the lights of the big cities and live in a bachelor flat.’

  ‘He did for many years. He came home to his mother after the war because she was ill.’

  ‘He’s different from Spencer Jeffries. He’s a terrible man,’ Laura exclaimed, snapping a biscuit in half and scattering crumbs on the table. ‘He shouldn’t be allowed to bring up that gorgeous little girl of his alone.’

  ‘Laura, be careful what you’re saying,’ Daisy cautioned, wagging her finger. ‘Folk round here don’t care much for Spencer but they’re very loyal. They wouldn’t take kindly to a stranger saying things like that about him. Spencer is a very good father, he adores Vicki.’

  ‘Sorry. I hope no one will think I’ve come from another planet.’ Laura looked shamefaced but only for a moment. ‘But that man gets me so angry. I like Ince Polkinghorne very much, he seems a caring, gentle man. Even Harry Lean must have some good points to care about his mother like that, but Spencer Jeffries, he’s a – a fiend!’

  ‘Did he say something to upset you yesterday? I thought it was the accident.’

  Vicki Jeffries’ sweet little face, frightened by the accident and suddenly being thrust into her arms, came into Laura’s mind. ‘Oh, he’s not important. Have you heard anything more about Johnny Prouse? I know they said he’s suffering more from shock than his injuries but Johnny is old and his condition could have changed. I wish I could do something for him.’

  ‘I’ll phone again after dinner. I’m-sure Johnny will be all right. He was sitting up and chatting to Mike Penhaligon when he visited him last night. ’Tis a relief to know that old Mr Maker won’t be going up to School House and telling Cecil Roach’s bees.’

  ‘Telling Cecil Roach’s bees? What are you talking about, Aunty Daisy?’

  ‘’Tis an old custom. When someone dies, someone tells the bees.’

  Laura was enchanted. ‘Why?’

  Daisy frowned. ‘I don’t really know. So they can spread the news around, I s’pose.’

  ‘Well, they wouldn’t be flying about at this time of the year.’

  ‘Anyway, Bunty’s getting up a collection to buy Johnny some fruit and flowers and the rest of the money will come in handy towards a new coat for him. His was ruined in the accident. You could contribute to the collection, if you like.’

  ‘Ask Bunty to call on me. I’ll show her over the cottage at the same time.’

  Daisy got up and put her cup and saucer on the draining board. ‘I’ll have to be going soon, dear. Shall we take a look at the generator and fetch in some logs?’

  Laura hadn’t unlocked the back door and investigated outside yet but she knew roughly what it looked like from Bill’s description and photographs. What Daisy had called the yard began with a good-sized patio. Bill had walled it in and it was a perfect spot for sunbathing. There was a large concreted area with a big shed, half of which was filled with tools, the other stacked up neatly with logs. Another small shed housed the generator. The garden was huge and landscaped with a rockery.
A statue of a wood nymph stood in the middle of the lawn.

  ‘Bill did a good job out here too,’ Laura remarked, much impressed.

  After a couple of false starts, Daisy got the generator working. When the shed door was closed, the vibrating sounds were considerably lowered and with the cottage several yards away, Laura realised she’d hardly hear it indoors. They filled the huge fireside basket with logs and carried it to the hearth in the front room. ‘Bill had them delivered,’ Daisy said. ‘I’ll write down all the numbers of the people you’ll need to contact for regular deliveries. Anything else you’d like to know about before I get back to the shop?’

  ‘There is one thing I was going to ask you about. I took a walk over a field belonging to Tregorlan Farm yesterday. I saw a small man with the cattle. It wasn’t Jacka. Who do you think it was? Has he got a son?’

  Daisy opened her mouth to answer but a cheery ‘Cooee!’ stopped her. The front door was opened a little and an attractive young woman popped her head round it. ‘It’s the vicar’s wife,’ Daisy said. ‘Looks like you’ll have to put the kettle on again, my dear.’

  * * *

  Roslyn Farrow took off her bright paisley headscarf, sat down in a fireside chair and took a notebook and pen out of the top of her straw shopping bag. She was a small, neatly boned woman in her mid-thirties and she looked completely at ease. She ran the pen through her thick black hair and rested it on her ear. She grinned rather cheekily as Laura served the tea.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Jennings. It’s good of you letting me in like this but I felt I couldn’t just go by, not after Miss Buzza told me in the shop that you were staying on, and with me living nearly opposite. Is there anything I can do for you?’