Sea Mistress (43 page)

Bridie shook her head emphatically. ‘No, I want to make a clean break. Once Paul comes back to Swansea he can take charge of Carmella and I can sell Sea Mistress. I can rid myself of all the bad memories the place holds for me.' She looked up at Collins, her eyes pleading. ‘I can make a home for my sons here, you
will
take to them won't you, Collins?'

He turned her to face him. ‘They were always good boys and they are part of you, I'll fall in love with them just as I did with you.'

‘What do you really think of them?' Bridie brushed a speck of dust from his lapel and Collins smiled at the proprietary attitude Bridie was adopting towards him.

‘Two healthy, noisy little boys, normal as any others.'

Bridie sighed. ‘Paul arranged things so that the boys were never home. Once I left him, he vowed I would lose them, he sent them away to relatives out of sheer spite. Will they blame me for this sorry mess, Collins?'

‘When they come home, they are going to have to adjust to a great many changes, give them time, Bridie, just don't be too impatient.'

She knew he was right. She moved to the window and stared into the garden. ‘Would you like a child of your own, Collins?'

‘Is this question academic or is there something you're trying to tell me?'

She laughed. ‘No, I'm not pregnant, I don't suppose I ever will be again, at least that's what the doctors told me.'

‘Well, doctors,' Collins shrugged, ‘they are often wrong aren't they?'

‘That's true, if I'd believed them I wouldn't be standing here on my own two feet, now would I? Anyway, you didn't answer my question.'

‘I am content, more than content with what I have now,' he said. ‘God has been good to me, allowing me to have the woman I love, someone I believed was out of my reach. I wouldn't dream of asking for more.'

‘But,' Bridie persisted, ‘you
would
like a son, most men want to have an heir don't they?'

‘Even if they have nothing to leave?' Collins's voice was teasing. ‘Yes, I suppose I would like a son but only if you were his mother. As it is, I have all I want or need right here.'

Bridie closed her eyes as he came close, holding her to him. She listened to his heart beating against hers and breathed in the scent of him. Tears of happiness came to her eyes and she let them run unchecked down her cheeks. She held Collins tightly and they remained standing entwined in each others arms for a long moment before Bridie released her hold.

‘We must make arrangements to have our house cleaned and refurbished ready for us to move into as soon as possible,' she spoke softly, dreamily, looking around the sun-warmed room and then back to where Collins was standing watching her, his head on one side. It was as if, even now, he could not believe what was happening to him.

‘Come on,' Bridie said more briskly, ‘we'd better make tracks for Swansea, I have a great many arrangements to make.'

He bowed mockingly, ‘Your carriage awaits, my lady.'

Bridie flipped him playfully across his arm and swept out of the room, her head high, playing the haughty lady. In the carriage, she glanced sideways at Collins, his profile was strong, not really handsome but with a fascinating charm that made her heart melt. Once he would never have sat beside her but would have been up top, in the front of the carriage with the driver, but even then Collins had had an air of being his own man. Now he was her man and she meant to hold on to him.

It was painful walking up to the door of Sea Mistress again, she had been wise to return to Jono's house in Clydach, Bridie decided. The front door stood open and as Bridie entered the large hall, one of the maids greeted her with relief. ‘Oh, Missus Marchant, I'm so glad to see you! The girl, the Irish lady, she's been taken bad, it looks as if she's losing the baby.'

Bridie turned to Collins and he nodded, knowing what was needed without being told. ‘I'll fetch the doctor at once.'

Carmella was in bed, gowned in voluminous white night attire, her young face a mask of pain.

‘It's going to be all right,' Bridie said softly, ‘it's going to be just fine, I promise you, the doctor is on his way.'

‘I want Paul, why isn't he here? I want my mother, I want a priest, Oh God help me!' Carmella's voice was thin with fear, she clutched at Bridie's hands, ‘I'm hurting so much, I think I'm going to die without being absolved of my sin.'

‘You are not going to die,' Bridie said firmly.

Carmella clutched at her stomach, her face contorted in anguish, she held on tightly to Bridie's hand as though afraid she would be left alone. Bridie felt a sudden pity for the girl and an anger against Paul for landing them all in this mess.

It was a relief when the doctor, a young man, new to the district, entered the room breathing confidence as he came. ‘Dr Squires, at your service.' He bowed to Bridie, ‘Let's have a look at the little lady then.'

Carmella shrank against the pillows, shaking her head from side to side. ‘No, not a man,' she gasped, ‘I can't let a man touch me, it's not right.'

‘Carmella, this man is a doctor, it's his job to help women in labour, don't be silly.'

But Carmella was adamant, she pushed the doctor, her eyes wide with terror and after a moment he moved away from her shrugging his shoulders. ‘No point in upsetting her further, she's almost hysterical as it is. Bring in a midwife, there's a good nurse lives only half an hour away by carriage, send your man to fetch her, there's nothing I can do here.' He sounded regretful, thinking possibly of the fat fee he'd been anticipating.

‘You will be paid for your time and trouble,' Bridie said ushering him from the room, ‘just send me your bill.'

Dr Squires left the house with the same jaunty step as he'd entered, it looked as if he was coming out of the bargain very well, no effort had been required on his part and yet he was being paid for his time, quite a good evening's work.

Carmella's ordeal was a long one. She was lying inert on the bed, looking near to death when at last, she miscarried of her child. The nurse looked down at Carmella and shook her head. ‘Poor little mite, not cut out for this malarkey is she?' Her gaze moved to Bridie.

‘You are small, madam, if you will pardon me saying so, but you have good hips, built for carrying. Two sons you've got, I understand? Well it will be a girl next, mark my words.'

Bridie bowed her head as a feeling of regret washed over her for what could never be. She coughed to hide the rush of emotion but the nurse was busy tidying up, washing her hands, rolling down her sleeves. She had not noticed the effect her words had upon Bridie.

‘I'll call tomorrow, see how the little lady is doing. Once she recovers,' she nodded to the figure in the bed, ‘she'll be as right as she's ever been.'

Bridie saw the midwife to the door, she wondered if she should leave Carmella to rest, but the girl's voice called to her thinly from the bed.

‘I want to go home to Ireland,' Carmella said pleadingly, ‘say you'll arrange it for me.'

‘If that's what you want then I'll see to it as soon as you are up and about.'

Carmella fell back exhausted, beneath her eyes were blue shadows, she looked pinched and ill and Bridie felt pity drag at her. Why was it that everyone Paul touched, he hurt?

Carmella began to cry, ‘Paul hasn't deserted me, has he? Surely he'll come for me in Ireland. I'm sorry, he's
your
husband but he loves
me
.'

‘Don't worry, I fell out of love with Paul a long time ago,' Bridie said flatly. ‘I knew he had other women, I suppose I became used to the idea.' She saw Carmella flinch and regretted her words at once. ‘But perhaps you're right about him being in love with you.'

Carmella looked up at her anxiously. ‘I wasn't the first one he'd been with since he was married, then?'

Bridie rose from the bed. ‘I'm afraid not. Rest now, you'll need all your strength if you want to travel home soon. In the meantime I'll arrange to send a letter to your parents, I'll tell them to expect you within the month.'

‘Bridie,' Carmella's voice was soft, ‘do you think he's gone off with another woman, then, is that why he hasn't come home?'

Bridie shrugged. ‘I just don't know, Carmella, he's never been the predictable kind, he might well have gone off on a ship somewhere for all I know.'

Bridie left Carmella to rest and stood for a moment on the spacious landing. Sunlight was streaming in through the stained-glass window, falling patterns of light splashed the walls and the carpet with myriad colours.

Strange how the world turned around, she mused, once, not very long ago she would have been bitter, unforgiving, hating the girl who had stolen Paul's affections. Now, all she felt was pity for Carmella, the girl would just have to learn that Paul was an incurable womanizer. She had believed his protestations of love but now it must be clear even to Carmella that Paul was a man no woman could ever be sure of.

The sounds of activity from the yard penetrated the kitchen where Rosie was roasting a chicken for lunch. She moved to the window and stared out at the half-dozen tradesmen, small figures in the sunlight of the open ground leading to the tannery. The wooden buildings were taking shape, the walls were in place already although it seemed only a few weeks had passed since the fire.

Rosie wiped the beads of perspiration from her forehead, the kitchen was hot even though the back door stood open. Rosie's mouth curved into a smile, she would bathe later, wash her long, thick hair, make herself beautiful. She stared unseeingly into the sunlight, anticipating the evening. Caradoc Jones was coming to do the books, she would see him tonight and a sudden sense of excitement filled her.

In moments of calm reflection, Rosie didn't really know what she saw in Caradoc. He was young enough, just a few years older than she was, but he was plump and somewhat plain. Until he smiled, that is, and then great dimples appeared each side of his mouth. It was when he smiled that his eyes became crinkled with humour; lovely blue, honest eyes which looked on her with obvious pleasure.

At first she had not taken a great deal of interest in Mr Caradoc Jones, he was a bookkeeper, a very clever man, an educated gentleman. He had a fine house near the docks, a fashionable house with heavy curtains at the window and a door knocker shaped like a lion's head which had been polished to within an inch of its life. Rosie knew all this because she had followed him home one night and stood outside mooning over him like a love sick girl.

It was then, standing in the darkness, seeing the light from the lamps gleaming in the windows that she knew she wanted to be there with him, inside the warmth of his house, she wanted more than anything to be Mrs Caradoc Jones.

‘You fool!' she said the words out loud and sank down into a chair. What should he want with the likes of her, a humble servant? And what would he say if he knew of her past, she being a woman who had known more than one man?

Her face softened as she remembered the way he. looked at her, with such brightness in his eyes. He smiled at her often. He made excuses to be with her. He came into the kitchen on some pretext or other and then sat with her half an hour or more just talking about anything under the sun. So Rosie hoped and waited and prayed that one day, Caradoc would pluck up the courage to speak to her of his feelings.

She believed him to be an honest man and yet sometimes doubts filtered through the haze of her happiness. Did he just want a quick roll in the grass with her, was he looking for a fancy piece to while away a few hours? She had no means of knowing because Caradoc was a man shy of showing his feelings. Rosie heard the spitting of the roasting meat in the oven and with a sigh, returned to her work.

‘Well,' Ellie smiled, ‘you have progressed really well, I'm very pleased at the work you're doing for me.'

‘Thank you, missus.' The foreman stood, cap in hand, his grey beard bobbing as he spoke. ‘We does our best, see?'

‘So you think you'll be finished in a few more weeks, is that right?'

‘Aye, providin' the rain holds off, see missus?'

‘Well, thank you for the report on your progress and of course you must feel free to order any goods you might need.'

The man inclined his head in acknowledgement and left the room and Ellie listened to his heavy footsteps crossing the hallway. She looked ruefully at the spot where he had been standing, sawdust had fallen from his boots onto the carpet, Rosie wouldn't be too pleased about that. She liked the place to be nice when there were visitors coming.

Caradoc Jones wasn't exactly a visitor but Rosie treated him as such. Indeed Rosie treated him as a very special guest. Ellie smiled, she saw more than Rosie realized. Caradoc, ostensibly, was coming over to double check the books, a task he was taking upon himself with increasing enthusiasm. He had agreed readily to her suggestion that he tutor Boyo, teach him his own efficient methods of accounting and Ellie felt as though she had offered Caradoc an ever open door at the tannery house.

But at least the new regime suited Boyo, he was looking forward eagerly to his next lesson. He had spent the last few days writing out columns of figures, adding and subtracting, worried that he might appear slow to a man like Caradoc. Ellie had told him not to concern himself. ‘Caradoc knows you are just a novice at all this,' she had touched Boyo's cheek. ‘It will all take time, be patient.'

‘Have I ever said how grateful I am, Ellie?' His voice had been resonant with feeling. ‘I don't know where I would have ended up if it hadn't been for Jubilee and for you.'