Sea Mistress (55 page)

She rested her hand on her stomach and her eyes shone with dreams. What if her suspicions were true, could such a miracle be possible after what the doctors had once told her?

Collins came in from the garden, she heard him kicking off his boots near the back door and a smile curved her lips. She felt her heart beating in anticipation as it always did when he came near to her. She realized that until she had grown to know Collins as a man, she had never experienced real love. Her feelings for Paul had been those of an immature girl, in love with the image of a man and not the reality. The reality had been a self-centred, even ruthless, man who had manipulated everyone, including her.

Once perhaps, she too had set great store by money, by amassing even more of it, she had equated money with security, what a false notion that had turned out to be. Money, she concluded, could be snatched away at the stroke of a pen, love was more enduring.

Collins came into the parlour in his stockinged feet, a smear of earth on his cheek, he'd obviously been working on his vegetable garden. Bridie smiled and held out her arms to him. He knelt before her and she cradled his head against her breast feeling tears of happiness spring to her eyes. ‘Have I ever told you how much I love you?' she asked softly. He raised his head and looked at her. ‘Once or twice but tell me again.' He stretched up and kissed her mouth and she clung to him for a long moment. He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. ‘Why are you crying, you can't alter anything, Paul's death was nothing to do with you, please can't you believe that Bridie?' He frowned worriedly.

‘I know what you say is true but it will take me a long time to forget how Paul met his death. I know the sea, know her cruel ways and I know that accidents happen but I wish I'd had the chance to straighten things out between us.' She sighed softly. ‘Still, there's no point crying, I must just count my blessings. I'm being silly and foolish; women in a delicate condition are often foolish, didn't you know?'

He sat back on his heels, his mouth broadening into a smile and she saw with pleasure the whiteness of his teeth in his weathered face. He was so wholesome, so lovable, how could God have handed her such gifts when she had been a cold, selfish woman?

‘Are you saying what I think you're saying?' He gathered her hands in his and held them tenderly, as though they would snap beneath his strong fingers.

‘I'm not sure yet, but yes, I think, I'm
almost
certain there is going to be another little Collins about the place before too long.'

He held her and kissed her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her hair as though he could never give her enough of his love. ‘Bridie, I will take care of you, I will wait on you hand and foot, I will be your slave. You must have plenty of rest, on no account will you overdo things. Bridie,' he was suddenly very serious, ‘I love you so much I don't think I'd want to live if I lost you.'

Collins knew her history, knew of her disastrous last pregnancy as all the staff at Sea Mistress had known. She shook her head. ‘Nothing is going to happen to me, I just feel it in my bones that this is right, it's meant to be. Oh, Collins what if we have a little girl, a daughter, wouldn't that be wonderful?'

He held her close, gently stroking her hair. ‘When will we know for sure?'

Ellie turned her mouth close to his. ‘The doctor is calling this afternoon, when he's examined me, he should have a very good idea one way or another.'

‘I will be on tenterhooks all day.' Collins rose to his feet. ‘Now, I must bring you food, you must build up your strength.'

Bridie laughed. ‘We really will have to employ more staff, especially now because I won't want you in the kitchen not when we've a baby to look after.'

Bridie settled back in her chair and stretched her arms above her head. ‘You know what, Collins? I feel young again, young and beautiful and happy. Am I tempting fate by being so happy?'

He shook his head. ‘I'm here now, the bad times are over and I mean to see that only good times lie ahead.'

As he left the room, a momentary cloud of fear settled on Bridie then she brushed it aside, it was just the foolish superstition of a woman with child she told herself, and the words warmed her so that the smile returned to her eyes.

Dr Jones arrived at two o'clock sharp, the appointed time, and he breezed into the house, young, fresh-faced and eager to please. His examination was carried out without delay and he was deft and very thorough. When the doctor was leaving, Collins saw him to the door and then came hotfoot up the stairs. He stopped breathlessly and looked at her his brow furrowed. ‘Well?'

‘Yes, it's yes! He's quite sure I'm with child and so am I. Oh Collins, isn't it wonderful?'

He came to her and drew her close. After a moment, Bridie held him away from her. ‘We'll be married quietly, up here in our own home if possible. We won't invite anyone to the wedding, I just want it to be me and you and afterwards—' she broke off mid sentence as a thought struck her. ‘You
do
want to be married to me, don't you?'

‘Of course I do,' Collins said soberly, ‘but I didn't dare to ask lest you thought I was interested in your money.'

She threw back her head and laughed, ‘You! I've never met anyone less interested in money in all my life.' She looked at him more soberly. ‘I'll never forget how wonderful you were to me when I had nothing.' Bridie looked at Collins thoughtfully. ‘I wonder,' she said softly and Collins looked at her indulgently.

‘What do you wonder?'

‘I wonder if Ellie's husband Daniel Bennett could marry us, he's a priest isn't he?'

‘What if we take a trip to Swansea and find out, shall we?' Collins asked quietly.

‘When shall we go?' Bridie leaned forward eagerly.

‘The sooner, the better.' Collins stretched over the table to kiss her mouth. ‘The sooner the better, my love.'

Ellie was surprised when a letter was delivered by hand from Bridie Marchant requesting a visit the following night. She had heard about Paul Marchant's death, of course, as had everyone else in Swansea. But what Bridie could want from her, Ellie was not quite sure. Ellie hastily scrawled a reply and sealed it into an envelope and handed it to the young boy. She gave him six-pence and he looked at it wide-eyed before doffing his cap and climbing back on his cycle.

‘Do you want any butter, missus?' the boy asked, his foot resting on the ground. ‘I had some deliveries to make but one of my customers wasn't home and I'll have to go back to the shop if I have anything left over.'

Ellie took the butter and opened her bag but the boy shook his head. ‘No, don't pay me, missus, the boss, he likes to collect the money himself.' He grinned, ‘There's a big bag of flour, too, very useful and it will keep.'

‘Very well, I'll have the flour but nothing else, right?'

The boy grinned. ‘My boss will be happy that I've found him a new customer.'

‘Who is your boss?' Ellie smiled at the lad's cheek. He grimaced and lifting his cap rubbed at his head. ‘Harry Parkins, got shops in Swansea, Clydach and Neath. Family business it is see but old man Parkins keeps his hands on the purse-strings, mind.'

‘Well, ask him will he bring me up a little sugar, tea and salt when he brings the bill. And tell him to come soon because I'll be going away shortly.'

‘Thank you, missus, he might crack a smile for once in his life when I give him your message.' He rode away, his thin legs beneath his checked trousers pumping the pedals as he tried to get up speed. Ellie heard his cheerful whistle as she turned back into the house, the notes hung hauntingly for a moment on the still air.

‘What is it, Ellie?' Martha came out of the parlour, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.

‘A note from Bridie asking can she visit tomorrow night. I've said yes, even though Dan will be home, I could hardly refuse, could I?'

‘I suppose not.' Martha followed as Ellie went along the passage towards the kitchen. ‘I'm sorry about Mr Marchant, no-one deserves to die young like that do they?'

‘Not even a man like Paul,' Ellie agreed. ‘Here, Rosie, extra butter, put it on the cold shelf in the pantry, will you?'

Rosie took the butter and sniffed it. ‘Mm, good Welsh salt butter this, see the little drops of water oozing out of it, shows it's got plenty of salt in it.' She weighed it in her hand. ‘A fair pound, spot on, I'd say.'

Ellie smiled, Rosie was the expert in such matters so she had no intention of arguing. ‘I expect you're right.'

‘How much did it cost?' Rosie was ever practical. Ellie shook her head. ‘Do you know, I'm not sure? I believe a Mr Parkins will call at some time to collect his money, I'll tell you then.'

‘Dear enough, I'd say,' Rosie looked as if she had to pay for the butter herself. ‘A bit more added on for delivery too. Better to buy it in the market like always.'

‘Rosie,' Ellie changed the subject, ‘do you think you could bake up a batch of scones and things for tomorrow night?'

Rosie's face brightened. ‘Aye, that I will, I'll do it straight away, the Reverend will be home soon, won't he?'

‘Daniel is not a Reverend yet Rosie, and yes, he will be home this evening, I hope. Tomorrow we'll be having visitors, Bridie Marchant is coming over and I'm expecting Arian Smale, as well.'

‘Quite a going-away party,' Rosie beamed, always anxious for a chance to show off her culinary skills, ‘I'll do some cutlets of lamb in mint jelly and some . . .'

Ellie held up her hand. ‘No need to go to any trouble, Rosie, really, I'm sure our visitors will have eaten.'

‘The Reverend will be starving, Mr Dan is always starving. I'd better make some nice hot pasties for tonight then and some game pie as well.'

‘All right, make what you like, you will anyway,' Ellie grumbled good naturedly. ‘Come on Martha let's get back to the parlour and the warmth of the fire, shall we?'

It was soothing sitting in the cheerful room with the lamp casting warm shadows and flames leaping from the coals in the grate. The ticking of the clock was the only sound, the regular marking of time having a soporific effect on Martha so, after making herself comfortable in the chair, she began to doze. Ellie looked at her with affection, she was glad Martha was going with her to Lampeter, it would have been lonely without her and with Dan at college all day. Rosie, because she would be married soon, would remain in Swansea.

The plan had been that she would be married from Glyn Hir but now, Ellie proposed to return for the wedding and take over one of the hotels for the day in order to give Rosie a good start in her new life.

Martha opened her eyes, suddenly as alert as though she had not been asleep. ‘I'm looking forward to Rosie's wedding.'

‘Have you been reading my mind?' Ellie asked dryly.

Martha smiled. ‘Maybe. She's a good girl, deserves the best, I like Rosie.'

‘You surprise me,' Ellie said with her eyebrows raised. ‘I always thought you two were at loggerheads.'

‘Well, perhaps we were but it was only done to add a bit of spice to the proceedings. We've rubbed along well enough most of the time.'

Ellie sat back in her chair and began to dream, content to let Martha do most of the chatting. Tonight, Dan would be with her. He would hold her in his arms, make love to her, make her feel she was truly alive. And tomorrow, he could help her entertain her visitors, it would be good practice for him. She smiled to herself, everything was going so well, did she deserve to be this happy? She closed her eyes for a moment, savouring her feelings of euphoria and then Martha was prodding her. ‘Wake up sleepy head, your husband is home.'

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

As Arian made preparations for her trip to Glyn Hir, she felt the first flutterings of unease. She stood before the mirror, hatpin poised above the crown of her velvet hat and stared at her reflection. She thought of Calvin waiting for her to come to him and bit her lip, was she doing the right thing? Tonight could be her last chance to patch things up between them. ‘You know what this means, don't you?' she said to her reflection, ‘it means that once and for all you are putting your paper before your love for Calvin Temple.'

She thrust the hatpin more securely into her hat and picked up her gloves and bag. What she was feeling was only a last minute bout of nerves, she knew what she wanted and that was to keep her independence. If Calvin really loved her, he would be willing for her to continue working on her newspaper. And if she really loved him, loved him enough, a small voice said in her head, she would give up all for Calvin Temple.

Soon it would be spring but today it was cold in the street, her breath hung in puffs of vapour on the chill air. Above the buildings in the Strand, the sky was heavy and grey. A thin drizzle began to fall and Arian walked to the edge of the kerb and hailed a cab. She gave the driver the address and climbed into the rocking carriage, shivering as she sat back in the cold leather seat. How she'd hated the winter months when her only escape from the depressing weather was to concentrate on the paper, on her work. She couldn't relinquish it, she would die of boredom sitting at home all day playing the great lady. In any case, it was all academic now, Calvin would not be slow to realize the implications when she failed to meet him tonight. The journey did not take long. Arian looked out of the window, hearing the sound of the horses' hooves against the roadway and glimpsing the silver ribbon of the river Tawe, she wondered again if she was doing the right thing but it was too late now, the familiar smell of the tannery permeated the air.