Daughters of Rebecca (37 page)

She crossed the room and, with her hand on the door, looked back at Isabelle. ‘I thought you were a woman of compassion but I was wrong. I regret ever bringing you into my house in the first place, you with your subversive talk.'

‘It is not subversive talk,' Isabelle said. ‘I only want to speak up for people who have no voice.'

‘I don't think Eynon would take too kindly to your views.' She turned to Dafydd. ‘Perhaps I should leave you alone to sort things out with your guests.'

‘No, Llinos, we need to talk. In private.' He looked pointedly at Isabelle.

‘Don't trouble yourself about us, Dafydd. We were going anyway,' Isabelle said. ‘We'll leave you and Mrs Mainwaring well alone in future.'

Dafydd glared at her. ‘The bitterness of some women makes me fear for the future. You, Shanni, are simply a jealous little girl who needs to grow up, and, Isabelle, I thought you of all people would be more tolerant.'

‘Well, I'm not tolerant!' Isabelle's voice was raised. ‘I won't stand aside and say nothing while you ruin your life, Dafydd. You can't do this, give everything up for a married woman.'

‘Stop this, for pity's sake!' Llinos hurried from the room. Outside, the coachman was brushing down the horses. Llinos spoke quietly to him. ‘Please harness the horses again. I need to go out, to visit a friend of mine.' She would go to Rosie. There was no-one else she could think of.

Her eyes were wet with tears as she sank back into the warm leather seat of the coach. Dafydd must be still quarrelling with Isabelle. And Shanni would be putting her spoke in the wheel too. How dare Shanni speak to her like that, as if she, Llinos, was little more than a cheap hussy?

She tried to think of some excuse to make to Rosie for her sudden appearance so late in the evening, but she need not have worried. When she arrived at the little cottage an hour later, she was greeted with a warm welcome and a cheerful fire.

‘Can I stay here tonight, Rosie?' Llinos noticed a man's coat hanging on the door. ‘I hope I'm not intruding.'

‘Of course not! You gave both my mam and me a job. You've always been kind to us. Please, come in and let me make you a hot drink.'

‘Can I just go to bed?' Llinos asked tiredly. ‘I'll explain everything to you in the morning.'

‘No need to explain anything to me,' Rosie said. ‘Now let me stir up the fire in the bedroom and push a bottle into the bed just to make sure you don't catch a chill.'

‘Thank you, Rosie,' Llinos said. ‘I think you
must be the only person in the whole of Swansea who still thinks of me as a friend.'

Then Llinos sank into one of the kitchen chairs and, laying her head on her arms, let the bitter tears flow.

‘
YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE
spoken to Llinos Mainwaring like that.' Isabelle was angry with Shanni, but more angry with herself for joining in what she now saw as a spiteful attack on an unhappy woman.

‘I know, I'm sorry.' Shanni was sitting up in bed, her long hair tied back from her face, her eyes shadowed. ‘I just got carried away.'

‘I know what it is. You're jealous of her.' Isabelle held up her hand to stop Shanni as she tried to speak. ‘No, don't interrupt, listen and learn. Dafydd Buchan is a man, and you are a child. Dafydd could be taking advantage of your obvious hero worship, but he is too decent for that, and thank your lucky stars that he is.'

Shanni looked down at her hands, fumbling with the sheets, patting out imaginary creases. Her face was white. Isabelle felt sorry for her. She sat on the side of the bed, her anger vanishing.

‘Shanni, I know you think you're in love with Dafydd but you're not ready for the grown-up world. If you let a man take advantage of you, you'll end up just like your mother, destitute and
abused. Haven't you learned your lesson from the past?'

‘My mother was taken by a wicked man!' Shanni said defensively. ‘What happened to her will never happen to me.'

Isabelle saw that she was wasting her time talking: the girl would never learn except by her own mistakes. Still, it would not hurt her to listen to good advice sometimes. Shanni would have to learn tolerance but it would probably take some hard knocks to make her see that other people had apoint of viewtoo.

‘Put it this way, then, Shanni, if you are in love with Dafydd, can't you see why Llinos would love him just as much as you do?'

‘But she's a married woman!' Shanni protested. ‘She has a husband and a son. Why can't she be content with what she's got?'

‘Aren't you forgetting something?' Isabelle was becoming irritated by Shanni's attitude. ‘Llinos took you out of poverty and did her best to make a lady of you. From what I see before me she failed miserably.'

Isabelle left the bedroom before more angry words came tumbling from her lips. Shanni was still a child in many ways; she had a great deal of growing up to do before she could reason as an adult.

When she returned to the parlour, she saw that the fire was burning low in the grate. She toyed with the idea of calling the maid to fetch more coal but it was late, time she went to bed.

However, she was not ready for bed. She sank into a chair and watched the embers fade and die.
She told herself she should be thinking about her wedding day, not troubling herself over the ranting of a silly young girl.

When she did think of her wedding, her mind was teased with doubts. Was marriage what Eynon really wanted? Isabelle could not shake the feeling that she was only second best. Eynon had never really told her he loved her. He heaped compliments on her, promised to take care of her always. He could offer her money and position, but was that enough?

Isabelle's mind was racing. She wanted a respectable marriage and any woman would be eager to have a man like Eynon Morton-Edwards as a husband. He was good-natured and wealthy but all of that meant nothing compared to the fact that she loved him.

When the last cinder fell and died in the grate, Isabelle got to her feet and glanced wearily at the clock. It really was time she went to bed because tomorrow she had some decisions to make about her life.

‘Llinos, did you sleep well?' Rosie was stoking up the fire. The smell of bacon filled the kitchen and the kettle steamed cheerfully on the hob. Rosie stacked Watt's plates and put them into a bowl, happy that he had gone to work early that morning so that she and Llinos could talk privately. Rosie didn't think the time was right to tell Llinos that she and Watt were back together.

‘Sit down here. See? I've put a cushion there to make you comfortable.' Poor Llinos, she looked so pale and weary and seemed a little unsteady as
she groped for a chair. ‘What's wrong? Are you ill?' Rosie was concerned. When Llinos had arrived the night before in tears, Rosie had tucked her into bed, talked soothingly to her and made her feel that dealing with an unexpected visitor was no trouble at all. Llinos had looked ill then, but this morning she seemed worse.

‘What is it?' she asked. ‘Have you quarrelled with your husband?' Rosie knew the marriage had been faltering ever since Joe had installed his foreign mistress in the house in Neath. ‘We all have rows from time to time. It's only human.'

She poured the tea. ‘Look, drink this. It will make you feel better.'

She sat at the table opposite Llinos. ‘Come, it might help to talk. Have you had bad news?' Rosie did not want to pry but she felt instinctively that Llinos needed to confide in someone.

‘I'm pregnant.'

The words fell into the silence, and Rosie swallowed hard. From the look on Llinos's face this was a tragedy and not an occasion for celebration.

‘Is that so bad?' Rosie ventured. ‘I mean, it might bring you and Joe together again.'

‘The trouble is, Joe might not be the father.'

Rosie looked down into her cup, her mind was racing. ‘You mean you've had . . .?' Her voice trailed into silence. She felt unable to say out loud what was patently obvious: that Llinos Mainwaring was having an affair.

‘I've been with another man, yes,' Llinos said. ‘And, Rosie, I don't even know what I want any more.
Who
I want, if it comes to that.'

Rosie was out of touch in her small house on the hill and scarcely saw anyone except Watt, and he was the last one to spread gossip about Llinos. She was silent. What could she say? She had no advice to offer. It had taken her years to make her own husband love her.

‘Are you shocked, Rosie?' Llinos picked up her cup and sipped the tea, her eyes filled with tears.

Rosie saw her pain and knew that Llinos did not know which way to turn. ‘You can stay here for as long as you like,' she said quickly. ‘You can have your baby here if you like. I'm used to caring for babies – I had plenty of experience with my brothers.'

Llinos wiped her eyes impatiently. ‘You're so kind, Rosie, and I know crying won't help but I feel so miserable.' She hesitated. ‘Could I stay for just a few days?'

‘Of course you can.' Rosie picked up the pan of bacon and eggs. ‘I'll move this. When Mam was expecting she couldn't bear to smell food in the mornings.' She smiled. ‘Shall I just make you a piece of toast?'

‘I couldn't eat anything,' Llinos said.

‘Yes, you can. A piece of toast will get you started for the day. It's no good starving yourself, not in your condition.'

Llinos's smile was wan. ‘You are sweet, and very wise for your age, too, do you know that, Rosie?'

‘I've been through a lot myself. Nothing like bad times to make you appreciate other folk's troubles.' Rosie cut a thick slice of bread and
stuck it on to the long-handled fork. She sat on the stool before the fire and held it close to the flames. ‘I've watched my mother die, I rushed into marriage and regretted it, and I nursed Alice, who I came to love as a sister, as she faded away in the prime of her life.'

‘And now I'm adding to your burden,' Llinos said.

‘Not a bit of it!' Rosie slid the toast on to a plate and dug a knife into the pat of butter. It melted as soon as it touched the hot bread and sank deliciously into it.

‘Here, eat some of this. I promise it will make you feel better.' Rosie made several more pieces of toast and returned to her seat at the table. ‘It's very nice to have a woman's company,' she said. ‘I hadn't realized how isolated I've become, living up here on the hill like some old recluse.'

‘How are things between you and Watt now?' Llinos asked.

‘They're much better,' Rosie said tentatively. ‘We've agreed to try again to make our marriage work.' She blushed. ‘If I'm lucky, I might be in the same condition as you before too long.'

‘Oh, Rosie, I'm so happy for you,' Llinos said softly. ‘Watt is a proud, stiff-necked man but he does love you, I know he does. He's told me often enough.'

‘I'm doing my best to believe that.' Rosie brought her chair closer to the table. ‘But what about you? Do you want to talk about what's happened?'

Llinos put down her cup. ‘I don't really know what's hit me,' she said. ‘I met a man, younger
than me, not married, and I'm besotted with him. I want to be with him all the time.'

‘But?'

‘But I think I still love Joe. I'm crazy, aren't I?'

Rosie had no glib reply. She had only ever loved Watt. ‘No, you're not. You're only doing what men have always done, including your Joe.'

‘Maybe so, but I know what I'm doing is wrong, immoral, sinful, all the things the preachers warn us against, but I can't help it.'

‘So what happened last night to make you come up here to me?' Rosie asked. ‘Not that you aren't welcome, mind.'

‘I was in his house. He had brought home company, Madame Isabelle and Shanni Price, the young girl I took in. Well, the atmosphere was strained and things got out of hand. Anyway, it ended with a scene and I had to get away from there. What can I do now, Rosie?'

‘Your life is your own, Llinos,' Rosie said softly. ‘No-one can tell you what to do with it. The only thing you can think of now is what's best for the baby you're expecting.'

Llinos rubbed her eyes tiredly. ‘I know you're right but I can't seem to think straight, not just now.'

‘Well, stay here a few days, longer if you want, just until you sort yourself out. By the look of you, you need a good rest.'

‘I feel as if I could sleep for a week. Thank you, Rosie, I will stay for a while, if you really don't mind.'

‘It's decided, then,' Rosie said. ‘Now, today I'm going to the market in Swansea. How about if
I take messages to your . . . well, to whoever you want?'

‘Tell Lloyd he mustn't worry about me, but don't tell him where I am,' Llinos said. ‘As for Joe and Dafydd, let them both stew for a while.'

She took a sip of her tea and Rosie held out the pot to refill the cups. ‘When I'm out you just rest and enjoy the peace.'

‘It is peaceful here,' Llinos said, ‘not even a maid about the place. What's happened to the girl you had in to help?'

‘She's gone home for a few days to look after her mother but I don't mind, really. It's good to manage my own little house, to bake when I want to and to sit in the sun without anyone standing over me. Now, take my advice and while I'm out just rest. Will you promise to do that, Llinos?'

‘I promise I'll be good.' Llinos smiled. ‘And, Rosie, I'm so grateful to you.' She looked down at her crumpled dress. ‘Do you think you could bring me some clothes from Pottery Row? I know it will be awkward for you, but I haven't brought anything with me.'

Rosie picked up her shawl – the winds could be fierce here on the hill. She hesitated in the doorway. ‘Are you sure you are going to be all right? I won't be too long anyway.'

‘Go on, Rosie. Have a good day out, and put any shopping on my account.'