He beat Trease to it and helped her in next to Tamsyn on the back seat.
‘I’m some sorry about yesterday, sir,’ Trease blurted out. ‘It wasn’t right for you to see such a spectacle.’
‘It’s not me you should be apologising to,’ Alex retorted harshly. He took Trease roughly by the shoulder and hauled him out of earshot of the others. ‘I abhor a man taking his fist to a woman, and let me tell you this, Trease Allen, if you ever lay a finger on Rebecca again I’ll beat the living daylights out of you myself!’
Trease blinked at the Major’s passion. ‘Y-yes, sir. I can’t tell you how bitterly I regret what I did. I swear it will never happen again.’
‘It had better not. How could you believe for a moment Rebecca’s that sort of woman?’
‘I know, sir. I’m ashamed. Becca will never be like her mother. She’s a good girl and has always looked after me.’
‘And always done your damned work. Well, things are going to be different in the future.’ Alex let Trease go and continued in a less angry voice. ‘There will be four new men starting work today. Two gardeners, a woodsman and a roadmender to take care of the drive. Later there’ll also be a mason and a carpenter working in the big house. That will allow you and Carlyon to get back to your original duties. I’ve told Carlyon myself. I’m sure at this moment he wouldn’t appreciate the news from you.’
Trease’s face changed from contrition to delight. This news raised his hopes. ‘Thank you, sir. I’m at my best when I’m busy round the garage.’
‘Don’t let me down again,’ Alex warned before going to the car.
Trease gave Rebecca a big smile and waved cheerfully before heading off back to the creek. She was puzzled by this until Alex got in the driving seat and explained what he’d said about the new workmen.
‘Are you ready for the off?’ he asked the two children. They replied they couldn’t wait to get there. ‘And you?’ he asked Rebecca.
‘Yes, Major,’ she replied rather grimly.
‘I think your father really is sorry,’ he said to try and lighten her mood.
Stephen twisted round in the front seat and stared at her.
She stared back stonily and he actually blushed. Then she caught sight of Joe on one of the horses, watching from a distance. She could hardly bring herself to think about Joe, the man who had fought with her father because she had been wearing powder and lipstick in the hope he would notice her at last. But you had to be a horse or a boat or a lazy stretch of river for Joe Carlyon to notice you. She didn’t want to hear his apologies, not yet.
She said blandly, ‘I’ve heard too many sorries for one day. Let’s just get away from here and enjoy the day out.’
Chapter 15
A knock at the gatehouse door later in the morning revealed Mr Robert Drayton on the other side. He lifted his hat to Loveday who politely asked him inside and showed him into the sitting room.
‘I’m afraid if you’ve called wanting to see the Major, Mr Drayton,’ she said, ‘he’s gone out. Taken one of the cars and Master Stephen, and very kindly my little girl Tamsyn, with him. And Miss Allen, too, to supervise them. Gone to the coast he has, round Perranporth way. From what I could make out the Major’s found an old map or something, has become quite excited about it by the look of him.’
‘Indeed?’ Mr Drayton pondered on this. ‘How interesting. Have you any idea what he found concerning this map?’
‘I don’t know,’ Loveday replied, edging towards the door. She was never inclined to gossip and felt she had disclosed too much of the Major’s business already. ‘I’ll go and see if Mrs Fiennes will come down to see you. She’s resting with a headache at the moment.’
‘Oh dear, I am sorry to hear that. Please do not disturb her. I have some letters and documents I would like to leave for Major Fiennes’ attention. I will leave a note for him. Perhaps I could sit at the desk and write it, if that is convenient, Mrs Wright.’
Loveday liked and respected the mild and pleasantly mannered Robert Drayton. ‘Please do, Mr Drayton. If you’d like to put the correspondence on the mantelpiece next to the clock, I’ll see the Major gets it the moment he comes back.’
‘How kind.’ Mr Drayton smiled shyly. He seemed a trifle breathless today.
‘Um, I wonder… could I get you a cup of tea, Mr Drayton?’
‘That would be most welcome, Mrs Wright. I have had a trying morning and came out of the office in rather a hurry.’
Mr Drayton flushed a little and pulled a chair out clumsily from the desk before seating himself Loveday noticed he wasn’t quite so well turned out today. His severe dark suit needed brushing down, his collar needed more starch. She hadn’t seen him before without his hat. His thin colourless hair was not quite tidy. Worry lines were evident among his naturally pale and unremarkable features, ageing him rather more than his forty-seven years. As he took writing paper from his black leather briefcase and a fountain pen from an inside coat pocket, Loveday thought he looked hungry and like most women with a mothering instinct she did not like to see it. And he had been so kind, allowing her to go on living in the creek after Stanley had been killed.
‘Um, it’s nearly midday,’ Loveday said hesitantly. ‘Could I make you a sandwich or something? It will be well past dinner time when you get back to Truro.’
Mr Drayton looked astonished and Loveday wondered if few people paid him any kindness. She knew that Mr Neville Faull denigrated his affability and had been heard to scoff at his partner in public.
‘I… I… couldn’t possibly put you to any trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ Loveday said firmly, straightaway leaving for the kitchen.
When she brought in a tray ten minutes later Mr Drayton was on his feet putting a bundle of letters held by a rubber band next to the clock on the mantelpiece. He managed a stronger smile than usual.
‘This is very kind of you, Mrs Wright. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it.’ He blushed furiously.
Loveday did not retire as she usually would have done. ‘I do hope you are quite well, Mr Drayton.’
‘N-not me, Mrs Wright. It’s my mother. She’s been unwell of late. It’s her chest. She’s always been of a strong disposition but recently she developed pleurisy and pneumonia. She was very ill but thankfully is over the worst now.’
‘I am sorry to hear that,’ Loveday said sympathetically, laying out a meal of thinly-cut ham sandwiches and seedcake and a pot of tea on the table. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve been eating properly.’ When she thought about that remark later she didn’t know from where she’d got the neck to say it. But Mr Drayton had looked so forlorn and he seemed appreciative of the attention she was giving him.
‘I’m afraid Mother doesn’t like anyone but me tending to her. It’s so worrying when I’m busy at the office or at a meeting I must attend.’
‘Of course it is.’ Loveday studied the items on the table. ‘Let me take this back and cook something for you. It won’t take long.’
‘Oh no, no. I really appreciate what you’ve done, Mrs Wright, but I haven’t time to stay long.’ He smiled at her but then the harassed look returned and he struggled to regain his professional demeanour. ‘I’ve put the correspondence on the mantel for Major Fiennes as you suggested. I would like him to see it as soon as possible. There’s nothing there you need bother Mrs Fiennes with.’
‘I’ll leave you to eat then,’ Loveday said, closing the door gently behind her.
* * *
When they emerged from the lanes and were on the main road heading towards Truro, Stephen, tired of craning his neck to speak to Tamsyn and wanting his next adventure to be for her ears only, asked his uncle to stop the car so he could exchange places with Rebecca. Alex smiled at Rebecca when she was sitting next to him and asked her to look at a roadmap and help him find the way to Perranporth.
‘I know the way,’ Rebecca said as they resumed their journey.
‘You’ve been there before? I thought you’d spe
nt all your life in the creek and ventured only as far as Truro.’
‘I used to stay with my uncle and aunt in Truro as a child and they sometimes took me to Perranporth on Bank Holiday outings. It’s beautiful, so much golden sand and tall dunes. It felt like paradise to me then.’
‘I didn’t know you had relatives in Truro.’
‘Uncle Bert’s my mother’s brother and Father won’t have anything to do with him.’ She perused the map with a rather cheeky grin on her face. ‘I’ve been to Falmouth and other places too, on the boats, many times.’
Alex grinned back. ‘Yes, ma’am. I stand corrected.’
‘Sit corrected,’ Stephen corrected him and they all laughed.
The road was busy for the holiday season when they entered Perranporth via Liskey Hill, becoming quieter after they’d driven through the village and were climbing the steep, winding St George’s Hill. The road levelled out and when the children turned their heads they could see the tall sand dunes towering over the beach. They exclaimed excitedly and extracted a promise that they would be allowed to go beaching afterwards and have an ice cream. Alex asked Rebecca to look at a piece of paper he handed to her. He had meticulously copied and enlarged the small stretch of coastline he was interested in, marking the spot where the mine ruins were with a big black cross.
He tapped the cross. ‘That’s what we’ve got to find.’
‘Is it a treasure map, Uncle Alex?’ Stephen asked loudly, wanting attention. He craned over the seat and breathed down Rebecca’s neck and she leaned away from him.
‘Not the kind you mean,’ Alex answered. ‘It’s between here and Cligga Head.’
‘It’s not far,’ Rebecca said. ‘There’s a cottage up ahead. We could stop and ask there.’
Stephen loudly and rudely declared that to ask for directions would spoil the adventure of it.
Alex ignored him and pulled the car up outside the wayside cottage. He and Rebecca got out and walked to the garden wall. An old man tending his garden straightened up and came to lean over the wall.
‘Fine lookin’ car you got there,’ he said in a thick accent that Alex could barely understand.
‘We’re looking for some old mine workings.’ Alex showed him his home-made map. ‘Do you happen to know if we’re close to it, please?’
‘Aye, you’re nigh on top of it,’ the local said, nodding his head sagely over the map and smiling to reveal toothless gums. ‘Just go a bit further on, round the next bend and—’
‘And you’ll see an old gate hanging off its hinges,’ butted in the old man’s wife who had come out of the cottage to join them. ‘’Tis there you’ll find the beginning of an old track.’
‘’Tis rough and overgrown. You won’t be able to take your nice car down there,’ her husband said.
‘Just keep going and you’ll come to a little headland and there’s some bits left of old buildings and the beginnings of the chimbley. ’Tisn’t much but you can’t miss it. I used to play there as a child,’ the wife said.
‘’Tis awful dangerous, you’ll have to be careful. If you fall down the shaft you won’t stop for hundreds of feet,’ the husband warned.
‘Thanks for your help,’ Alex said, holding out his hand and smiling. Rebecca knew he had understood only half of what the old couple had said.
The old man shook his hand with a toothless grin. ‘Dick Penhallow and this is my wife Nora. Call in any time you’re passin’.’
‘Thank you. I’m Alexander Fiennes.’
Dick Penhallow had been staring at him. ‘Not local then?’
‘No,’ Alex admitted, feeling somewhat guilty. He knew a lot of Cornish folk were possessive about their county and didn’t like foreigners owning parts of it.
Before Alex could say anything else, Nora Penhallow said warmly, ‘What a lovely family you have, Mr Fiennes. Pretty children and a lovely wife.’
Alex’s jaw dropped but he decided it would take too long to explain their true relationship. ‘Well, thank you very much,’ he said rapidly and bustled Rebecca back to the car.
‘What did they say?’ Stephen demanded.
‘I’m not sure,’ Alex said drily, thinking about Nora Penhallow’s assumption that Rebecca was his ‘lovely wife’. She was too young to be even Tamsyn’s mother. But she was certainly lovely.
They stopped beside the broken gate Nora Penhallow had spoken of and the children piled out. Alex took the hamper off the running board and shouted after them to go no further than a few paces in front where they could be seen clearly. Rebecca took off her hat and tossed it on the seat. She hated anything on her head and scowled at it sitting there.
‘The sun’s hot,’ Alex cautioned.
‘It’s how I like it,’ she returned breezily. ‘Shall I help you carry the hamper?’
‘I’ve not had that much soft living,’ he said with an element of hurt male pride.
She made a face at him and they strode off after the children through the thick overgrowth of long stringy grass, heather and brambles. They followed a tall manmade hedge where contented Fresian cows chewed the cud on the other side, then the path veered off and soon the first rubble of the long neglected mine buildings came into view, with the sea stretching out in the distance. Alex gave a gasp of excitement and Rebecca glanced at him
‘I don’t want the children going anywhere near the ruins, Becca. We’ll take a wide detour where you can sit and watch the sea. Will you stay there and watch them? I’m sure Tamsyn is a sensible little girl, she hasn’t drowned herself in the creek. I’ll tell my obnoxious little nephew he mustn’t follow me and should stay in sight of you on pain of death.’
They stopped several yards back from the cliff edge, standing two hundred and fifty feet above miles and miles of roaring Atlantic Ocean, where ships of every century had foundered. The cliffs were coloured in reds, oranges, purples and blues, bearing patches of lichen and wild flowers, bird’s-foot trefoil, squill, thrift; and bird life, kittiwakes, herring gulls, guillemot and fulmar. They could see Perranporth beach, two miles of fine golden sand stretching away from the Towans, exposed now all the way to Penhale Point at low water. Holidaymakers were sunbathing or swimming in the ocean, children were playing and paddling, a few dogs were running about, a scene of fun and relaxation. To the west, Cligga Head, where copper-mine works battered the landscape but gave rise to gaunt but majestic-looking engine houses, obscured the view of St Ives Bay and beyond. A little landwards rose the ancient cairn of St Agnes Beacon.
‘Magnificent views,’ Alex said in an awestruck voice, passing his binoculars to Rebecca. He pointed to the sea. ‘Look there, you can see a basking shark.’
‘There’s so much to see on this coast,’ she agreed.
When Stephen and Tamsyn had looked through the binoculars, Alex gave them a small radius within which they could play, the centre being the spot where Rebecca would set up the picnic things. Stephen seemed quite happy with the arrangement and as Alex backtracked to the old mine workings Rebecca sat on the blanket, feeling at peace. She watched the children playing. It was a noisy game with plenty of death threats and bloodcurdling talk drifting towards her on the keen wind but she could see they were perfectly happy.
The children had munched their sandwiches, pies and cake and were off playing again when Alex returned. He flopped down beside Rebecca and she handed him a flask cup of black bitter tea.
‘I’m afraid it’s a bit stewed,’ she said.
He drank it down without noticing and took a sandwich from her, chewing thoughtfully without tasting it.
‘What did you see?’ she ventured, breaking in on his thoughts.
‘There’s nothing there really,’ he said dreamily, leaning on an elbow and gazing at the sky. ‘It’s been deserted for over a hundred years, absolutely mined out. It was a poor prospect right from the start.’
‘You seem to like it,’ she observed.
‘There’s something magical about it, Becca,’ he said fervently. ‘It may be just
an old pile of rubble but it’s timeless, mystical. It’s a thrill to think I own it, my own little spot of Cornwall.’
Rebecca felt her heart sinking. Did he not want the estate? He never seemed enthusiastic about it. ‘You own Trevallion,’ she pointed out sharply.
He looked at her. ‘I know. Why say it like that?’
‘You don’t seem to care about it.’
He moved closer to her and pulled on the tip of a black tress of her hair. ‘After what you said yesterday I began to think that you don’t care that much about it.’
‘I do care about it, Alex,’ she said, staring back at him. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘Not as much as here. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything that will leave you out in the cold. You’re my friend.’
‘That’s very comforting but what about the others?’ She was going to say more but he looked away and seemed to have switched off, like the way he was when she’d first met him.
‘The house is not far from here, just a bit further along the coast. There won’t be much more left standing than the mine. I’ll take a look at it another day. I mustn’t forget I promised the children time to play on the beach and an ice cream. They seem to be enjoying themselves. Have you got another sandwich? The sea air makes one hungry.’
Rebecca sighed and passed him a sandwich then watched him as she nibbled on a piece of yeast cake. He might be scared and distressed when he had bad dreams and was haunted by his war memories but at other times he was in control and could turn on any mood he wanted to. Why wouldn’t he say what he intended to do with the estate? She wasn’t intimidated by him, however, and asked him again.
‘Haven’t you decided what to do with the estate yet, then?’
Alex leaned round her and helped himself to a piece of chicken pie. He was very close and looked straight into her eyes. ‘No.’
It was said in such a way that she knew it was all he was prepared to say.
‘That’s all I wanted to know,’ she muttered, her eyes blazing.
Alex laughed. ‘Oh, you’re lovely,’ he said, sitting upright to eat.
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