Sweet Rosie (12 page)

An open wagon pulled up beside him. ‘Hi, brother-in-law, want a lift?’ Josephine was smiling down at him, her bonnet at the back of her head, her hair falling into unruly curls on her shoulders. She was a lovely girl, beautiful and intelligent, John was a fool risking all he had for a silly affair. ‘I’m going to your place, as it happens.’

‘It’s no distance,’ he said smiling back at her, ‘less than a mile.’

‘Oh, go on!’ Josephine coaxed. ‘Otherwise I’ll think you’re avoiding me.’ She moved her skirts aside to make room for him and Binnie put his foot on the wheel and swung himself into the seat at her side.

They drove for a little while in silence. The roadway threw up dry dust from under the wheels and Binnie coughed. He felt uncomfortable, he wondered what Josephine was going to say, she certainly had something on her mind. Glancing at her face he could see that she was pensive, her eyes shadowed.

‘I know what’s going on,’ she said at last.

His heart contracted with fear. Had John told her about Maura? He coughed again, playing for time.

‘What do you mean, Jo?’

‘I know my husband is playing around. You know it too, don’t deny it, I can see by your face.’

‘How do you know?’ Binnie asked. His mind was racing, how much did she know about John, and, worse, what did she know about him?

‘A woman always knows when her man is being unfaithful, there are signs you see, signs any wife would recognize.’

He breathed a little easier, she was only guessing. He must speak to John, warn him that he was teetering on the edge of the abyss.

‘I don’t think so,’ Binnie said. ‘Perhaps he’s just restless, you know.’

‘You’ve hit the nail on the head, Binnie, he’s restless all right. He wants to come into town more often than is good for him. I had to insist on coming with him this time otherwise he would have left me at home again. Why?’

Binnie swallowed, his throat was dry. ‘I’m sure it’s not anything to worry about, Jo, men like the company of men sometimes just as you girls like to get together for a chin-wag.’ He forced a smile though his tongue felt welded to the roof of his mouth.

‘Just this morning, Hortense was telling me how glad she’d be of your company. Your visit is a good chance for her to talk to another woman instead of boring old me!’

Josephine glanced at him. ‘You and Hortense are so secure, she knows you love her too much to stray. Whatever you did in the past, you are her man now, through and through. I’ve never been sure of John and I don’t think I ever will be.’

Binnie remained silent; he did not want to comment just in case he said the wrong thing.

Hortense had heard the wagon pull up and was waiting on the porch, a wide smile on her face. She hugged her sister and gave Binnie a look that meant he should make himself scarce. She did not seem at all surprised to see him home.

‘I’m going to have a lie down,’ he said. ‘I’m tired and I could do with a nap.’ Hortense nodded; it was clear she knew that her sister wanted to talk.

As Binnie walked up the stairs, his heart was heavy. He knew he could not keep his secret any longer, it was weighing too heavily on him. In any case, he felt sure that John had told Jo about him. Binnie’s past was a strange thing to refer to when talking about an errant husband.

He stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes and, before he knew it, the silence had sent him off to sleep.

‘I’m worried about Eynon.’ Llinos was holding Joe’s hand as together they climbed the stairs to the bedroom. ‘He’s playing a dangerous game.’ He was at her side and yet he seemed so distant from her.

‘Well don’t worry, Eynon is a grown man, he knows what he’s doing, he can look after himself.’

‘But Mrs Sparks of all women, and her with a husband who would kill you with a look. I don’t like it.’

‘You can do nothing about it,’ Joe said firmly as he led her into the bedroom. ‘I agree it would be better if Eynon could meet an unattached lady and fall in love and get married and have a brood of children to keep Jayne company but life isn’t as neat as that.’

Did his words have a hidden meaning? She examined his face but could read nothing from his expression.

‘I know life isn’t neat,’ Llinos said. ‘Will you unhook me?’

She leaned against Joe as he began to undo the back of her dress. He slipped it down over her shoulders and stepped away from her.

‘Come to bed with me tonight,’ Llinos said gently.

‘I can’t. Look, don’t ask me to explain, I don’t even understand what I feel myself but since our baby died, I just feel as if I’ve lost my sense of direction. Don’t try to push me, Llinos, not now when I’m so confused.’ He left the room and the door closed behind him with a snap of finality.

Llinos sat on the bed and tears flowed hot and bitter down her cheeks. She wanted Joe to thrill her as he used to. Joe loved her, didn’t he? Why then had he ceased to desire her?

He used to make her feel beautiful and cherished. She would lie back on the bed and look at his lean, golden body. He was so wonderful, so handsome. But if he had changed when the baby died, he had changed more since he had come back from America.

He was out a great deal, sometimes he returned home in the early hours of the morning. She knew because she could not sleep until he was safely indoors. Even when she knew he was back she often lay awake wanting him.

‘I love you, Joe,’ she whispered. She imagined his silky hair brushing her face, his warm lips against hers. The bed was big and empty without him. ‘Oh, Joe! What’s wrong with us?’

She closed her eyes with a picture of Joe behind her lids. When he loved her it was beautiful, he made her body sing with happiness. Every time he made love to her was like the first time. The sensations transcended time and place, lifted her to the clouds, to fly with the eagles, to become one with him.

Afterwards, in the glow of their lovemaking, she would cling to him knowing if ever she lost him she would be only half a woman. But he would never betray her, she knew that. He would never stray to another woman’s bed the way some men did. He belonged to Llinos body and soul and she to him. Why then was she so lost and lonely, why was she lying in her bed alone?

The next day, Llinos hardly saw Joe at all. He went out in the morning and stayed out all day. But towards suppertime, he came home. He looked tired, as though he had a great deal on his mind and Llinos would have gone to him, put her arms around him but he avoided her eyes.

‘Joe, what’s wrong?’ she asked, her voice cracking with fear. He moved past her, his shoulders tense.

‘Not now, Llinos, I’m in no mood for a quarrel.’ He looked up with a smile as his sister came slowly down the stairs. He took her hand and led her into the dining room. He seemed to be his old self now, smiling and at ease. Llinos sighed softly. Something was very wrong and Joe would have to talk to her about it sooner or later.

As they sat at supper, Charlotte sprang a surprise on them both. ‘I’ve made a will,’ she said proudly. ‘Well at least the solicitor wrote it up for me and I signed it.’ She smiled at Joe, a sisterly smile and reached out to touch his hand.

‘The money you gave me, Joe, and the money dear Sam left me, it must all go to Lloyd.’

‘Charlotte! Don’t even talk about such things!’ Llinos said quickly. ‘You are still young and sprightly.’

‘Well, I am heading towards my three score years and ten, you know.’ She smiled. ‘You sometimes forget I’m a great deal older than Joe.’

Charlotte lifted a spoonful of soup to her mouth and then dabbed her lips with the pristine napkin. ‘Anyway, why I want to leave it to Lloyd is because I want him to have the very best education and the best life any boy could ever want. I hope one day he’ll find a fine girl to settle down with.’ She held up her hand as Llinos opened her mouth to protest.

‘Now, I know you two would never see your little boy go without and the bulk of your estate will go to Lloyd, that is right and natural, but I want to give him something too before I leave this earth. I love him as though he’s my own son.’

‘Hush, Charlotte!’ Llinos said softly. ‘You must do what you see fit with your own money but my advice is to enjoy it, spend it on yourself. Buy a new outfit, travel the world, anything.’

Charlotte smiled. ‘What need have I for new clothes? I have more than I will ever wear as it is. As for travelling, my old bones would not allow it. No, I am content with my quiet, peaceful life here in Swansea. I have no wish to be anywhere else on earth. Except . . .’ She broke off and looked directly at Joe. ‘Except when I die I want to be buried at home, the home where I was born and brought up.’

She sighed. ‘I loved our house on the edge of the River Wye, Joe. Can I go back there, to rest in peace, please?’

‘Of course you can. We’ll say no more about it,’ Joe replied. Llinos looked at him sharply. Was he troubled about Charlotte’s health? Was concern for his sister the source of his strange behaviour?

‘Would you like me to carve you some beef, Charlotte?’ Joe said, proceeding to do so without waiting for a reply. If nothing else, Charlotte had a good appetite and enjoyed her food enormously. She was still small and bird-like in spite of the puddings she tucked away.

Llinos looked at Charlotte carefully. She appeared well and strong, as if she would have many more years than the three score and ten she spoke of. But perhaps Joe knew something she did not about his sister’s health.

Later, when Charlotte had retired, Llinos tackled him about his strange mood. ‘What’s wrong, love? Are you worried about Charlotte?’

He was silent for a long time and then he looked past Llinos towards the window where moonlight slanted into the room. ‘No, not worried. I think she can see the end coming, though, she is an old woman now. She wants to put her affairs in order, make her wishes known while she has a clear head.’ He put down his napkin and pushed back his chair. ‘But I don’t want you to worry about her, Charlotte will leave this world in the most peaceful of ways and when she goes it will be her time and she will be ready.’

Watt examined the glaze, he lifted a ladleful of the thick liquid and let it drop back into the pot. ‘It looks fine, Pearl,’ he said. ‘We just need to watch the temperature in the kilns now not to spoil the load.’ He rested his hand on her shoulder.

‘Are you sure you’re fit to be back at work? You are still very pale.’

Pearl nodded. ‘I’m all right, Watt. I’ve got over the whooping cough and I’m fit and well again.’

She did not mention the baby she lost while she was in bed coughing her lungs up. But then Pearl was made of sterner stuff than most. She knew that life was uncompromising and if she did not bend with the cold winds she would break.

‘I need to work, Watt,’ she said simply. She peered into the glaze. ‘I’m well pleased with this mix, it’s going to look fine on the new lot of pottery we’ve got waiting.’ She smiled though her eyes were shadowed.

‘You just make sure the kilns are heated to the right temperature. That’s not my responsibility, that’s down to you, boss.’ Her broad face crinkled into fine lines as she made a face at him.

Watt felt a rush of affection for her; Pearl was a good worker and had been a good friend to him, especially since Maura’s death. As if reading his thoughts, she sighed.

‘Life’s hard sometimes, Watt my love, and when sickness comes it gets even harder. Now, to change the subject, can you come over to my house? We’re having a little “do” as it’s my Rosie’s birthday.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ Watt said. ‘How old is she then?’

‘She’ll be eighteen come Saturday.’ Pearl fluttered her eyelashes at him in mock flirtation. ‘I don’t look old enough to have a girl that age, do I?’

‘Good heavens!’ Watt said. Rosie worked as Llinos’s maid and he had not really taken a great deal of notice of the girl. She was polite and sweet and, if he had thought of her at all, he had thought of her as a child. By way of comparison to his lost dear Maura, Rosie was a child.

‘No, you don’t look old enough,’ he said quickly.

‘Well? Will you come to the party then?’

Watt wanted to refuse; he was not ready for socializing, not yet. Pearl rested her hand on his shoulder.

‘You can’t grieve for the rest of your life, Watt, you have to get out there, face the world again. You’ve always been strong, you needed to be growing up without a mam or dad and I don’t want to see you lose your courage now.’

He hesitated and Pearl pressed home her advantage. ‘Our Rosie would be so pleased if you came, really she would. She admires you so much, she thinks the sun shines out of your . . .’ She smiled. ‘You know what I mean.’

That Rosie had even noticed him came as a surprise to Watt. He was sure Pearl was exaggerating in order to get her way. ‘All right,’ he said reluctantly, ‘but you won’t mind if I don’t stay long, will you?’ He patted her arm before moving away. Pearl meant well but Watt would much rather be alone now. Without Maura, life seemed to be empty. He supposed it was the thought that he had come full circle, he was alone again, without anyone who really cared if he lived or died.

He was being morbid and he knew it. Of course people cared, Llinos cared and so did Joe. His work-mates cared. ‘But,’ said a small voice in his head, ‘you have no-one to call your very own.’

When he finished work, Watt looked around the sheds, putting away brushes, picking up a few shards of pottery. The smell of the broken pots reminded him of his childhood. Well, he had come a long way since then. He was now virtually in charge of the entire pottery. It was his job to see that everything worked well from the throwing to the painting and glazing and then to the firing. He had his finger on the pulse of it all, he breathed in the atmosphere and loved it.

Once he had considered living in America, making his own way with dreams of becoming his own boss. But now, a little older and wiser, Watt realized that not everyone was cut out to be an owner of a business. He was quite content now to be a large cog in the wheel of the pottery.