Kilgarthen

by Kilgarthen (retail) (epub)

‘It had better not be,’ Spencer mumbled. He headed for the door. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I must feed Barney.’ He didn’t wait for her permission and left the room.

  Vicki tugged on Laura’s arm. ‘Do you want to see me dance?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Laura replied delightedly. The atmosphere was much lighter now that Spencer had gone. Ince rolled back a mat so Vicki could dance on the lino. Laura stood beside him and watched Vicki, enchanted by her graceful movements.

  ‘How am I doing?’ she whispered to Ince.

  ‘Fine,’ he whispered back. ‘Spencer’s not very comfortable but Vicki’s perfectly happy and that’s all that matters.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll get on better after this?’

  Ince took his eyes off Vicki for a moment. He grinned boyishly. ‘Well, it won’t ever be as bad as before. Listen, I’ve got a few hours free on Saturday afternoon. If the weather’s dry and clear, would you like to climb to the top of Hawk’s Tor with me?’

  ‘I’d like nothing more,’ Laura replied enthusiastically. ‘I’ve been wanting to climb up there but I’m too nervous to attempt it on my own.’

  ‘Very wise. That’s settled then.’

  Laura stayed another half-hour then said she would have to leave to prepare for her dinner appointment with Felicity Lean. She thought it was a reasonable excuse but Spencer scowled. How unpredictable he was. Could she ever do anything right for him? Did he want her to go or to stay? Or was it because he thought Harry would be there and he was someone else Spencer hated?

  She was comforted by the knowledge that Vicki was disappointed she had to go and she would soon be seeing Ince for the walk to the top of the tor.

  * * *

  Laura was shown into the drawing room of Hawksmoor House by a local woman who introduced herself as Mrs Biddley and explained that she was Mrs Lean’s daily help and was doing the catering tonight. Laura was dismayed to find Harry was at home and alone in the room. She was still angry with him for passing on gossip about her financial position. He had better not make a pass at her.

  She accepted a sherry from him, sat down as far away from him as she could, then looked round the room, studying the paintings hanging from a high dado rail. There were similar touches in the room to ones she had noticed at Rosemerryn Farm. Striped curtains, silver-plated photographs, lace runners, the same sort of blue and white porcelain ornaments.

  Harry watched her from a Chinese watered-silk sofa, looking altogether too handsome in a dark suit and smoking a cigar. He was a dangerous man in more ways than one where women were concerned, he must have broken many hearts.

  ‘Mother will be down in a minute,’ he drawled. ‘I’m afraid she’s hopeless with the time. Can I get you another sherry?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ Laura held up her nearly full glass. ‘I’m fine with this one.’

  ‘I must say you look very beautiful tonight.’ He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. ‘But then you’re the sort of woman who would look beautiful in rags.’

  She wished she had worn rags, instead of a tucked and fitted long black dinner dress. She had pinned up her hair and wound black and white beads round her neck. She hadn’t wanted to seem drab next to the sophisticated Felicity Lean. She didn’t bother to thank Harry for his compliment.

  ‘How have you enjoyed your first week in Kilgarthen?’ Harry lifted his sensuously curved brows. ‘I was most surprised when you decided to stay among us.’

  ‘I like the village very much and most of the people are friendly. I’m not at all pleased with you though, Harry Lean. It’s all round the village about my father’s company going bankrupt.’

  He smiled smugly and wrinkled his nose. ‘Think of it as a favour. The news would have come out eventually, better now than later. It will mean they won’t expect you to splash money that you haven’t got round the village. From what I’ve heard, the villagers feel sorry for you. Because of the pride they had in Bill they’re feeling honoured that you’ve stayed. You should fit in here nicely. I understand you’ve made yourself something of a guardian angel, helping to nurse Johnny Prouse.’ The sardonic amusement that seemed a constant feature of his conversation was very much in evidence. ‘I think I can make a guess at one person in particular who hasn’t welcomed you, though.’

  He was waiting for her to respond but Laura wasn’t about to discuss Spencer Jeffries; Harry probably knew about the scene in the churchyard. ‘I understand you keep several horses here,’ she said. ‘Do you think your mother would let me ride one?’

  ‘The horses belong to me, actually, and you are welcome to ride at any time. I’ll inform the stable hand. We must ride together. I could show you some lovely and interesting places on the moor, some are ancient. When are you free?’

  Laura was sure the places he would take her to would be very lonely and he wouldn’t be interested in anything historic. ‘I’ve got quite a lot on at the moment. I’m helping out with the Christmas concert.’

  ‘How quaint,’ he said, smiling disarmingly.

  ‘Will you be going, Mr Lean?’

  ‘Oh, Harry, please. I can’t stand all this Mr and Mrs nonsense. No, I will not be going to the concert, Laura. Not my scene at all. Mother will probably go, as a guest of honour or something.’

  Without you there it will be an all the more enjoyable evening, Laura thought. She doubted if the villagers would miss his presence.

  A few minutes later Felicity Lean entered the room with a cat-like walk, bringing with her a cloud of heavy exotic perfume. She wore an exquisite French-styled evening gown, her hair and make-up were skilfully done. She held out long red-nailed fingers. ‘Mrs Jennings. How sweet of you to come. Do forgive me for being a little late. I expect Harry has told you I’m absolutely hopeless with the time. Have you got a drink? Ah, good. Pour me a large vermouth, will you, darling,’ she purred at Harry.

  As she said the last word, her body gave a tiny lurch and Laura realised that Felicity was slightly drunk. Laura felt her heart sinking. Was this meal going to be another ordeal?

  They ate an excellent meal of asparagus soup, crown roast of lamb and sherry trifle, served in a dining room furnished throughout in solid Victorian pieces, a complete contrast to the more modern lines of the drawing room. The house wasn’t as big as Laura had imagined it would be, roughly the same size as Daisy’s and Bunty’s put together. It probably had no more than five bedrooms, but the Leans’ style and taste gave it a colonial aura.

  ‘You must come again, in the daytime, Laura,’ Felicity said from the head of the large rectangular table after she’d drunk two glasses of wine in quick succession. ‘See the house in the daylight.’

  ‘That would be nice,’ Laura replied, uncomfortably aware that she was still under Harry’s persistent gaze.

  ‘After the village concert, Laura’s going to ride with me, Mother,’ Harry said, leaning back in his chair and loosening his bow tie.

  ‘Oh, good,’ and Felicity gave a little hiccup.

  ‘Do you ride, Felicity?’ Laura asked. Her eyes flicked to Harry. If he was aware that drink was getting the better of his mother, he seemed unperturbed.

  ‘Not these days,’ Felicity replied, pouring the last drop from a bottle of red wine into her glass. ‘Now, it would be silly for you, Harry, to stay here alone with a bottle of port. Bring it into the drawing room, darling, where Mrs B-Bidd— will serve us coffee.’

  ‘Mrs Biddley, Mother,’ Harry said hastily, rising and offering both women his arms.

  Laura refused the port and because Felicity’s hands were shaking, she took it upon herself to pour the coffee after Mrs Biddley had served it. She looked at a photograph on the wine table beside her and gave a start. The beautiful woman in the photograph was Natalie Jeffries.

  ‘My late sister,’ Harry said in a low voice.

  Laura turned to Felicity. She was beside the gramophone looking over the selection of records, a glass of port in her hand. ‘Yes, she was my d-darling daughter,’ the older woman affirmed, he
r eyes misting over. ‘She died just after Vicki, my granddaughter, was born.’

  Vicki had not mentioned she had a grandmother and only Daisy and Bunty had been allowed to look after the little girl. Why not her grandmother? Because of her drinking problem? And why hadn’t Daisy told her Felicity Lean was Vicki’s grandmother? Because she thought she’d ask painful questions? Did this secret have anything to do with Spencer and Bill’s quarrel?

  ‘I’m very sorry, Felicity,’ Laura said softly. ‘Vicki is a dear little girl.’

  ‘I haven’t had the chance to find out for myself,’ Felicity blurted out, the drink loosening her tongue. ‘Natalie had a kidney problem. She was born with it and should never have had a baby. But when she became pregnant she was determined to go through with it. I pleaded with her to tell Spencer, to tell him that there could be danger to her life during her labour, but she refused. She didn’t want Spencer to worry.’ Tears were running down Felicity’s rouged cheeks.

  ‘She was booked to have a Caesarean operation and he would never have known she had a health problem. She was going to be sterilised to make sure she only had the one child. But Vicki arrived early and Natalie’s kidneys weren’t able to take the strain of a normal labour. When the hospital told Spencer the reason for Natalie’s death, he was beside himself with grief and guilt. When he found out that I’d known about it all along he went out of his mind. He swore he’d never forgive me and that he’d never allow me to have anything to do with Vicki.’ Felicity was sobbing, and Laura went to her. ‘My own granddaughter, my own little girl’s baby.’

  Harry joined them and put his arms round his mother, hugging her close. ‘Come along now, Mother. You’ve had enough for one night. Let me and Laura help you to bed.’

  After a few moments, Felicity collected herself and pushed her son firmly away from her. She wiped her eyes on a silk handkerchief ‘I – I’m all right. Please forgive me, Laura. I don’t usually drink so much and get like this. It’s because you’ve been recently widowed, you see. It’s brought back all the agony. It’s hit me harder than ever that Spencer will never forgive me, that I’ll never see Vicki grow up. I don’t think she’s even aware that I’m her grandmother and Harry is her uncle.’

  ‘I’m terribly sorry, Felicity,’ Laura said gently. Her mind could hardly cope with the strength of her anger towards Spencer Jeffries. How could he be so cruel?

  Harry helped Felicity to her feet and to the door. She bid Laura ‘Goodnight’ and Mrs Biddley helped her up the stairs.

  ‘Only I and Mrs Biddley know how Mother gets when she’s heartbroken,’ Harry said, helping himself to a large brandy. ‘I think I know you well enough to trust you to be discreet, Laura, or I would never have given you Mother’s invitation.’

  ‘That makes me feel humble,’ Laura said, accepting a glass of brandy. She understood now why Harry stayed at home to live with his mother and she admired him for that. ‘What a terrible situation. I can’t believe someone could be so unforgiving, although perhaps I can as far as Spencer Jeffries is concerned.’

  ‘Spencer adored Natalie. He probably loved her too much, that’s why he can’t forgive Mother.’ Harry shook his head sadly. ‘He said if he’d known about Natalie’s kidneys he would have insisted she stay in bed and rest. He would never have left her side. He was denied that opportunity and said there’s no excuse for Mother not telling him. I often think that if it wasn’t for Vicki, Spencer would have shot himself.’

  Laura gasped. ‘Well, he certainly seems to have strong feelings if his hatred for Bill is anything to go by.’

  Harry’s voice dropped to a soft, caring tone. ‘I’m glad you came tonight, Laura. Mother will feel terribly embarrassed in the morning but it’s helped her to bring her feelings out in the open. I’ll explain that you were sympathetic.’

  ‘If there’s anything I can do to help, Harry, I’ll be glad to.’

  ‘If you could befriend Mother, that might be a great help to her and I would be very grateful to you. She was telling the truth, about her drinking. She’s not an alcoholic. She just has a drop too much when the pain gets unbearable, like on the anniversary of Natalie’s death.’

  ‘That can’t be far away,’ Laura said thoughtfully. ‘Vicki told me she’ll soon be five and will be going to school.’

  ‘January the tenth. Vicki was born on the seventh. She could have started school last term but Spencer insisted on keeping her at home as long as possible. My worry is that he’ll smother her and not let her grow up to develop her own character.’

  Laura smiled at Harry. He had many ways she couldn’t tolerate but he was not without a saving grace and she was warming to him. ‘You would like to be a proper uncle to Vicki, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I would, very much.’ He looked at her deeply. ‘I don’t care much about anyone other than Mother and Vicki. I was very close to Natalie. I hate Spencer for what he’s done to Mother.’

  Laura felt herself shifting away from Harry. He was a frank man. She felt that if he knew Bill had been his half-brother he would say so, but a few questions wouldn’t hurt.

  ‘How did your father die, Harry?’

  Harry raised a puzzled face over the second glass of brandy he was pouring for himself ‘Why do you want to know that?’

  ‘Oh, you know how people in a small community gossip. Someone mentioned that he had a tragic end. I was just curious.’

  He brought the brandy bottle over to her and she knew he wouldn’t tell her anything unless she accepted another drink. She dutifully held out her glass. She watched the fiery liquid trickle into the bowl warm in her hand. He put the bottle down and sat on the arm of her chair, close to her.

  ‘He shot himself.’

  Laura flushed guiltily. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known it was anything like that.’

  Harry slid his eyes from hers to her lips. ‘I don’t mind talking about it, there was no love lost between us. It happened thirteen years ago. He’d made some bad speculation on the stock exchange. He was forced to sell off a lot of property to bail us out. He was a very proud man. He couldn’t take the disgrace. One day he went off on the moor with his handgun and blew out his brains.’

  Laura shuddered. ‘How terrible.’

  ‘Dead and gone. My father. Your husband.’ Harry stroked a tendril of hair near her ear. ‘Why don’t we forget the dead and think about the pleasures of living?’

  Laura stood up and handed him her glass. ‘I think it’s time I was leaving.’

  Harry held up the two glasses of brandy and spread his arms in an innocent gesture. ‘I’m not stopping you.’ When Laura had left the room and Mrs Biddley was fetching her coat, Harry downed the contents of both glasses and added to himself, ‘This time…’

  Chapter 16

  ‘It’s beautiful up here!’ Laura exclaimed excitedly, turning round in a circle. ‘I didn’t think I’d be able to see so far.’

  ‘I thought you’d like it,’ Ince said simply. ‘We’re lucky to have a clear day, you can see to the limit of each horizon.’

  ‘Like it? It’s breathtaking.’

  They were standing on the square, flat-topped granite rock that was the summit of Hawk’s Tor. The sky was pale blue with a few isolated grey-tinged clouds drifting on the wind. A thousand feet below was Hawkstor Downs and the scattering of local farms, their average size about one hundred and eighty acres. They were linked by winding lanes, not all giving access to motorised vehicles. All the colours were faded, the bushes laid bare, surfaces bleached. Here and there the gorse had been swaled, burnt as a management technique to create new growth for grazing the following year.

  ‘Thanks for bringing me up here, Ince. It’s a climb I wouldn’t have attempted alone in winter, the weather can change so suddenly.’

  ‘It’s a fairly easy climb, apart from the last twenty feet over the boulders, and the path is well worn by sheep and holidaymakers and locals.’

  ‘Maybe, but I’m glad to be in your company.’<
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  Ince smiled gently. He pointed out the green and grey contours of Dartmoor on the northern horizon, many, many miles away. To the south they could see the blue stretches of Plymouth Sound winding its way to the sea. He named the other tors which sheltered the Trebartha valley and had enabled this part of the moor to become one of the earliest settlements of Cornwall. To the south-west rose Trewortha Tor and then the tor named King Arthur’s Bed; Ince explained that there was no reliable evidence that the mythical king had ever slept on it. On Twelve Men’s Moor was the highest tor, Kilmar, an awesome and majestic sight on the eastern flank of the moor, the half-mile ridge of granite at its summit resembling the serrated edge of a saw, and on East Moor where wild ponies roamed they could see Fox Tor.

  Also sheltering the Trebartha valley was the four-mile stretch of the many woods that made up the Trebartha plantation, where fir and spruce grew with natural woodland of ash, beech, and oak. More coniferous trees were planted on the slopes of Smallacombe Downs. In the middle distance rose the tower of North Hill’s church which stood on a low hill right in the centre of the village. As the wind blew in every direction, the landscape seemed to change its shape and colour every time Laura lifted her eyes.

  She looked for signs of Spencer and Tressa and Jacka Davey on their farms but saw only livestock browsing on the open moor and in fields that were divided by low stone walls flanked by fern banks. She was thrilled when she saw a buzzard hawk take wing and glide majestically on the chilled air as it sought prey. Ince told her sparrow hawks and kestrels could often be seen out hunting.

  Beyond the Trebartha Woods she traced the River Lynher, following its course east to west where it merged with the Withey Brook and continued on to Kilgarthen. From up here the village looked more than familiar, it seemed to beckon a friendly hand to her and she felt she’d known it all her life.

  ‘I’d never have been able to pick out all the places on my own, even after what Bill had told me,’ she said to Ince with a childlike sense of awe.