Kilgarthen

by Kilgarthen (retail) (epub)

  Ince shook his head firmly. ‘No, it would be better coming from you.’

  ‘But she’s got one of her friends here with her. You said he threatened to punch the lights out of me. I’m not afraid of some soft-bodied city slicker but another quarrel might make things worse.’

  ‘That’s a risk you’ll have to take. To send me first would seem insulting and cowardly.’

  Spencer could see he wasn’t going to succeed in bribing or persuading Ince. ‘All right, I’ll go,’ he uttered as if he was the injured party in the dispute and being expected to put it right was unjust. ‘I hate doing this sort of thing. I’ll go to the pub first for a good stiff drink.

  ‘Spencer, I think you ought to tell her what she came here for,’ Ince said quietly when Spencer had reached the door.

  Tears were not far away from Spencer’s eyes. ‘I can’t. Some things are too painful.’

  * * *

  ‘What is the matter with you two tonight?’ Daisy said in exasperation, looking from Laura’s glum face to Andrew’s. They were sitting round a table in the Tremewan Arms with Bunty. ‘Have you got some terrible business problems? What long faces. You both look more miserable than Cecil Roach and that takes some doing.’ Andrew had gone back to Little Cot licking his wounded pride and confided in Laura about the trick Tressa had played on him. She had commiserated with him, agreeing that were some horrible people in Kilgarthen. They had spent the rest of the day together, going over the necessary papers she had to sign to help wind up her father’s company, and then they had drifted into a melancholy silence. A visit to the pub with the two middle-aged women who had turned up on the doorstep and suggested they all go for a drink had not cheered them up.

  ‘Everything’s fine, Aunty Daisy,’ Laura said, finishing her drink. She had been thinking about her dinner invitation with Felicity Lean for the following night and wondering if she would find out something about William Lean being Bill’s father.

  ‘Do you want another drink, Laura?’ Andrew asked, trying to sound hearty, before Daisy could badger them again. ‘What about you two ladies? Same again?’ Andrew went to the bar and found, much to his chagrin, that he was standing beside Sam Beatty. His bruised feelings left him in no mood to exchange small talk with this character. But Sam Beatty seemed just as disinclined to speak. They said ‘Good evening’ and that was all.

  ‘I feel awful,’ Andrew told the group when he came back with the tray of drinks. ‘Sam Beatty seems really down tonight. I haven’t been very friendly towards him. I keep forgetting he’s a sick man. Shall I invite him over?’

  ‘Yes, go on,’ Bunty said promptly. ‘Poor fellow. Don’t want him to think we’re an unfriendly lot round here.’

  ‘And you’d like to get to know something more about him,’ Laura commented wryly.

  Daisy laughed. ‘Well, it’s something to do.’

  ‘Would you like to join us, Mr Beatty?’ Andrew asked the other Londoner when he took the empty tray back.

  Sam Beatty seemed pleasantly surprised. ‘Oh, yes. Thank you. For a little while, then I think I’ll have an early night.’

  Sam pulled up a stool and joined Laura’s table. Andrew passed round his packet of Senior Service. The bar door opened and Spencer came in. His eyes zoomed in on Laura and he went crimson. He nodded curtly to her and after exchanging greetings with Daisy and Bunty he went to the bar.

  Andrew saw Laura’s reaction. She paled considerably. Sam Beatty was watching her too.

  ‘Is that the vile-mouthed Spencer Jeffries?’ Andrew whispered, putting his mouth to Laura’s ear.

  She nodded, turning slightly so the man in question wasn’t in her line of vision.

  ‘Do you want to leave?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘No,’ she replied resolutely. ‘I’m not going to let him spoil my evening.’

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Sam Beatty asked. There was a hint of authority in his voice and Laura felt obliged to answer.

  ‘No, Mr Beatty. The man who just came in is a troublesome local farmer. I’ve had some words with him, that’s all.’

  ‘Has Spencer upset you again?’ Daisy and Bunty asked in unison, their eyes boring into Spencer’s broad back.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Laura replied, emphasising each word. She felt foolish under Sam Beatty’s eagle eyes.

  ‘It’s about time I had a word with he!’ Daisy said indignantly. She was halfway out of her seat but plonked herself down again. Spencer was making his way over to them.

  Ignoring everyone but Laura, he stood stiffly behind her shoulder. ‘Can I have a word with you, Mrs Jennings, please?’

  Laura refused to turn round and look at him. Clutching her glass of white wine she said, as if she had difficulty getting the words out between her teeth, ‘I think we’ve said all there is to say to each other, Mr Jeffries.’

  ‘Go away now or I’ll throw you out of the pub myself,’ Andrew threatened, rising to his feet. Sam Beatty followed suit.

  ‘Keep out of this, you!’ Spencer snarled, clenching his fists. He might be ready to eat humble pie but he wasn’t going to be ordered about by this upstart. ‘It’s none of your business. I was speaking to Mrs Jennings.’

  ‘Spencer!’ Daisy protested.

  ‘Stop it, all of you,’ Laura pleaded.

  ‘It’ll only take a few minutes,’ Spencer persisted.

  ‘She’s told you she’s not interested!’ Andrew shouted. ‘Don’t you understand plain English!’

  ‘Now then!’ A booming voice interrupted the raised voices round the table. A darts match and a euchre game were brought to an untimely halt. The pub became silent, all attention was rooted on them. ‘We’ll be having no more of this, will we, gents?’ Mike Penhaligon said fiercely, as he approached the table.

  He pushed Spencer in the chest and he was forced to take a couple of steps backwards. ‘Back to the bar with you, young man, and you other two sit down. I won’t have the ladies’ pleasure spoiled.’

  Laura had turned round. She couldn’t read the cluster of expressions that vied for supremacy on Spencer’s face but suddenly he looked just like Vicki had when she’d started to cry yesterday. She found herself saying, ‘What did you want to say to me?’

  Spencer was furious at being embarrassed and wanted to take a smack at Andrew Macarthur’s sassy face. He wanted to shout at Laura to forget it but he couldn’t let Vicki down. There was no way, however, that he’d say what he wanted to in front of all these flapping ears.

  Coughing to clear his throat, he said, ‘I’d just like a few minutes alone with you.’

  ‘Well?’ Mike, the self-appointed referee of the proceedings, turned to Laura. ‘Do you want to speak to him, m’dear?’

  ‘Yes, but only for a few minutes.’

  ‘You can go into the residents’ lounge. But I’m warning you, Spencer. Watch your tongue where this lady is concerned.’

  ‘But Mike,’ chipped in Pat, who had entered the bar. ‘I’ve just shown someone in there. There’s a visitor for Mr Macarthur.’

  ‘What?’ exclaimed Andrew, and Sam Beatty’s ears pricked up. ‘Who on earth is visiting me here?’

  ‘It’s Tressa Davey,’ Pat told him.

  ‘Tressa?’ Andrew became animated. ‘I’ll see her at once,’ he said eagerly.

  ‘Tell she t’come in here,’ Mike roared at Pat.

  ‘You know that maid won’t set foot in the bar, Mike,’ Pat reminded him.

  Mike stroked his beard. All the customers in the pub were hanging on his next word. ‘Then Spencer and Laura had better go into our sitting room. You show Mr Macarthur into the residents’ lounge, m’dear.’

  Laura had never felt so silly or self-conscious before. But before she followed Mike and the overbearing farmer she whispered at Andrew accusingly, ‘I thought you said you never wanted to see that girl again. When I’ve got rid of Jeffries, I’m going to come and meet her. I can’t wait to see what she’s like.’

  ‘No! I… I’ll see if I can persuade h
er to come in here after I find out what she wants.’ Andrew knew Tressa would hate people looking her over.

  When Laura, Spencer and Andrew were being shown to their respective rooms, Sam Beatty resumed his seat. He raised his glass to Daisy and Bunty who were too amazed by all that had happened to speak. ‘Never a dull moment round here, eh, ladies? Tell me about the village.’

  * * *

  Andrew closed the lounge door after him. Tressa was standing stiffly in the middle of the room with her hands stuffed in her coat pockets. Her face looked as if it was carved from stone. She was engulfed in an old-fashioned coat but it didn’t conceal her slender grace and loveliness.

  Andrew had a good idea why she was here and felt on safe ground. He moved towards her, stopping just inches away. He could smell a musty odour on her clothes but it did not mask the natural sweetness that was hers.

  She said nothing. Andrew wasn’t going to ask her why she was here. He raised an inquiring eyebrow.

  She opened her mouth a little. He waited patiently for what she had to say.

  ‘I… I came to say I’m sorry.’ Then she moved back from him.

  He advanced on her. ‘Sorry for what?’ He sounded puzzled deliberately.

  Tressa glared at him. To her mind he had a stupid grin on his face. She knew he was playing games with her. ‘For making you walk through that patch of bog.’

  ‘What about ordering your brute to jump up at me with muddy paws the first time we met?’

  ‘That too,’ she muttered ungraciously.

  Andrew was enjoying himself. He could have gazed at her pretty pale face all night. He knew her cheeks would be cold and he wanted to warm them with his hands. The fire had burned low in the room and he guessed she had endured a long cold walk. He wanted to hold her in his arms and make her warm. ‘Want me to forgive you, do you?’

  She let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Yes.’

  He put his head cockily on the side. ‘Okay, I will, but only if you have a drink with me.’ He had a great desire to show her off in the public bar as his guest.

  The cheek of this man! Tressa flounced round a chair and headed for the door. ‘I’m not that sorry. My father made me apologise to you and it’s up to you to take it or leave it.’

  ‘Tressa!’ Andrew’s heart thumped down to his shoes. ‘Look, I didn’t mean to be flippant. I’m sorry.’ How had she managed to turn the tables on him so quickly? He rushed to the door and got there first. ‘It was good of you to come. You’ve had a long walk. You look cold. Let me ask Mike if I can borrow his car to drive you home.’

  ‘That short distance?’ she said scornfully. ‘I’ll be home in a trice.’

  ‘But Tressa!’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Well, I, um…’ He had to think of something to keep her here. ‘Was that the only reason you came to see me?’

  ‘Oh, thank you for the things you gave my aunty, if that’s what you want, my gratitude.’

  ‘No, I didn’t mean that. You’re more than welcome to it.’ He was at a loss now. ‘Do you have to go? Have a drink first, to warm yourself for the walk back.’

  ‘No, thank you.’ She put her hand on the doorknob. ‘Excuse me.’

  Andrew wanted to see more of her, he wanted to ask her out to dinner or to the cinema. There must be a cinema somewhere round here. But he felt she wouldn’t understand what his invitation meant. She’d certainly refuse. He moved aside and she left him without another word.

  Tressa walked down the passageway that led to the outer doors. Harry Lean was coming towards her,

  ‘Hello, darling. I’ve never seen you in here before. Seen the light at last, have you? Found a social life is appealing after all?’

  Tressa ignored him and tried to walk by. She’d just extracted herself from one wretched man’s company only to have this lecherous swine loom up on her. Harry shot an arm out to stop her. ‘Now don’t be like that. You don’t want to go home yet. The night’s still young.’ He moved in close and put a hand under her chin and moved the other to her waist. ‘And so are you. Young and lovely and you’re letting yourself go to waste keeping yourself cooped up on that little farm. I could show you how to live life to the full.’

  Tressa pushed his hands away from her. ‘Get out of my way, Harry Lean!’

  Andrew had stayed where he was, feeling crestfallen. When he heard Tressa’s angry voice, he came flying out of the room.

  ‘Come on, darling,’ Harry said, putting his hand on Tressa’s shoulder and pulling her to him. ‘Don’t be so unfriendly.’

  ‘Back off!’ Andrew shouted. He rushed down the few feet of the passageway and yanked Tressa away from Harry.

  Tressa shook Andrew away from her. ‘I can handle him,’ she scowled. ‘He was about to get my knee in a painful place.’

  Harry was highly amused. ‘You must be Andrew Macarthur. Taken up being guardian angel of the village maidens, have you?’

  ‘And you must be that heel, Harry Lean,’ Andrew, snarled back. ‘If you ever lay a finger on this girl again you’ll have me to answer to!’

  Harry laughed. He looked at Tressa. ‘Aren’t you the lucky one, darling? Two suitors after you, and you can bet that neither of us has honourable intentions.’

  ‘Speak for yourself!’ Andrew seethed. ‘Now get away from us.’

  ‘Isn’t that Tressa’s decision? Well, darling, what do you say? Which one of us knights in shining armour would you like to have escort you home tonight?’

  ‘I just want to leave here,’ Tressa hissed angrily, elbowing her way past both men.

  ‘Looks like we’ve both lost for the night, Macarthur. How about a drink? I’ve never come across a woman yet who’s worth fighting over.’

  ‘Go to hell,’ Andrew scratched out. Pushing Harry aside, he ran after Tressa.

  She was outside the door, taking in deep lungfuls of fresh cold air.

  ‘Does he often make a pass at you like that?’ Andrew asked her.

  ‘He’s done it once or twice,’ she replied, looking up at the sky. ‘He doesn’t worry me.’

  ‘Well, he should. One day he might go too far. I really think you should let me drive you home.’

  Tressa gave a low whistle. Meg came bounding up to her. ‘I’m well protected.’ Jacka had forbidden her to take Meg with her but she couldn’t help it if the dog followed her. She walked off up the hill.

  ‘Good night, Tressa!’ Andrew called after her.

  She didn’t call back. Andrew spun round and thumped his fist against the pub wall.

  * * *

  The Penhaligons’ sitting room was spacious; Spencer was standing in front of the piano and Laura kept the width of the room between them by staying just inside the door.

  ‘I’d be grateful if you’d say whatever it is you have on your mind quickly so I can get back to my friends,’ Laura said in her unfriendliest tone.

  Spencer folded his arms. He was willing to apologise but he wasn’t going to grovel. ‘It’s about yesterday. I was out of order and I want to apologise for the way I upset you. I had no idea how things were between you and your husband. I take full blame for all the unpleasantness that’s happened between us since your arrival in the village.’

  Laura wouldn’t have believed she’d ever hear these words coming from the mouth of this man. She summed up the new situation rapidly. She was sure she knew what had brought this on. ‘Has Ince been speaking to you?’

  ‘He only repeated what you told me. He’s anxious that we get on better terms.’

  ‘I see. And are you?’

  ‘To be truthful, not particularly. You’re still a stranger to me. I’m not much interested in others and what they do.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ Laura said coolly. ‘I’m not in the least bit concerned about you but I am about Vicki. I’ll never forgive myself for lashing out at you and upsetting her. She didn’t deserve that. Is she badly affected?’

  ‘She’s upset. It’s the first time anything like that has happened in
our home.’

  This tore at Laura’s heart. ‘I feel guilty about that. I went to your house yesterday to ask you what Bill had said or done to you to make you hate me so much, but I should have realised it was unwise with Vicki there. Now we’re bringing things out into the open, I’d like to know what it was.’

  Spencer closed his eyes tightly for an instant. ‘It would serve no purpose to tell you now. I don’t want to talk about it.’ The old familiar contempt was back in his voice. ‘I’m only concerned with Vicki. Ince has come up with a suggestion for us to put things right with her. I hope you’ll seriously consider it. If you would come to tea and if we could show Vicki that we don’t hate one another it will help to settle her mind. Will you think about it?’

  Laura turned away. She couldn’t stand his cold grey eyes boring into her another moment. The thought of going to Rosemerryn Farm again made her feel physically sick, but how could she say no to putting things right with little Vicki? Her father might have big enough shoulders to accept all the blame, but she couldn’t make any excuses for her part in upsetting Vicki.

  ‘I would like to have the opportunity of saying sorry to Vicki. When would you like me to come?’

  Spencer sighed. Part of him had been hoping she’d refuse. ‘Ince suggested tomorrow, the sooner the better for Vicki’s sake.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Laura looked at him again. He seemed tired, slightly dejected. ‘What time shall I come?’

  ‘About four o’clock. Ince will be there. You don’t have to worry. I’ll keep a low profile.’

  ‘Will it be all right if I bring something for Vicki?’

  A spark of resistance lit up Spencer’s eyes. ‘What sort of something?’

  Laura realised how possessive he was of his daughter. She would always be on uncertain ground with him. The tea tomorrow was going to be an ordeal; it would be difficult acting pleasantly to Spencer when she’d rather see him tumble off the top of Hawk’s Tor and take his wretched pride and animosity with him, but she would enjoy seeing Vicki and Ince.