Sweet Rosie (24 page)

‘Let’s celebrate,’ she said. ‘Bring out the blackcurrant wine, Rosie, it isn’t every day I’m asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage.’

‘Binnie!’ Llinos looked at the man standing in the hallway. ‘Binnie Dundee, is it really you?’ She put her arms around him and hugged him warmly and then held him at arm’s length. ‘
Duw!
’ she said lapsing into the Welsh. ‘You look so brown, so handsome and haven’t you filled out! I hardly recognized you.’

She took him into the sitting room. ‘Do you want a drink, Binnie, are you hungry, what would you like? Oh,’ she put her hands to her face, ‘I’m so happy to see you after all this time! Tell me all about your life, what’s been happening to you out in America?’

He released himself from her embrace and sank tiredly into a chair. Llinos looked at him carefully; beneath the tanned skin and the fairness, where the sun had bleached his hair, he did not look happy.

‘I’ll tell you about me, first, shall I?’ she said to help him out. ‘I’m leaving a lot of work to Watt now. I needed to spend more time with my family you see.’ She looked around her, the house was silent, giving lie to her words. Lloyd was outdoors with Eira and Charlotte was resting in her room. Where Joe was she had no idea. He had stayed for one night and in the morning he had been gone.

‘Joe is away on business.’ It was the wrong time to tell him of her problems; it was clearer with each passing moment that he had come home, come to his old friend Llinos to talk about his own worries. ‘Come,’ she said, ‘let’s talk.’

Slowly, in a halting voice, tinged now with an American accent, he told her about his life. The rumours she might have heard were true, he had married bigamously, had three sons and a wonderful wife. He sighed heavily.

‘It all fell apart, Llinos,’ he said. ‘I suppose Hortense was bound to find out sometime but I lived in a fool’s paradise believing I could keep up the lies forever.’

‘But your wife, can’t she forgive you?’

He looked up at her, shaking his head. ‘I can’t blame her for hating me. I tried to make it right by marrying her secretly but I know Hortense only agreed to it so that the boys wouldn’t be shamed by the stigma of illegitimacy.’ He looked wretched. ‘We’re both hoping that no-one finds out about my past, but she can never trust me again and who can blame her?’

‘Binnie,’ Llinos said slowly. ‘Love does not just die like that, whatever you did, you were a good husband and father, weren’t you?’

‘I think so.’ He rubbed his fingers through his hair. ‘Can I take you up on your offer to stay for a while, Llinos?’

‘Of course you can.’ She rang the bell and Rosie came at once, looking at the American visitor with curiosity.

‘Bring some tea and sandwiches and some fruit cake, Rosie, there’s a good girl,’ she said, not taking her eyes from Binnie’s face. He had tired lines around his eyes but even though he was older by several years than Llinos, he seemed to have retained his youthful looks and vitality. Living in America suited him.

He drank the tea thirstily but ate little. Llinos understood his pain, knew that where he really wanted to be was back with his family.

‘Is it really over, Binnie, are you sure about that?’

‘She’s told me so,’ he replied. ‘I have never seen Hortense so angry, so hurt. I can’t bear to think what harm I’ve done her.’

‘Women say all sorts of things when they’re hurting, Binnie,’ she said softly. ‘When I am angry with Joe, if I think he’s been neglecting me for his business, I can be a witch! I don’t mean any of it and I’m sure your Hortense is crying her eyes out this very minute because you’ve left the country.’

‘I wish I could believe that,’ Binnie said. ‘I’d be on the next ship back across the Atlantic if I thought there was a chance my wife would forgive me.’ He looked at her. ‘But I don’t believe there is any chance, none at all.’

He closed his eyes for a second. ‘All that I have I owe to Hortense and her family, they took me in, gave me work and treated me like a son and I betrayed them.’

‘Binnie!’ Llinos spoke sharply. ‘Knowing you I’m sure you worked hard for what you got. You always were a good potter, you know most of the jobs inside out. You would be a valuable asset to anyone’s business.’

‘So you’ll give me work?’ he asked, looking down at the floor. ‘I’m sorry to come cap in hand to you, Llinos, but I had nowhere else to go. You and the pottery have always meant home to me. I don’t know anything but potting.’

‘Speak to Watt, he’s in charge now and I’m sure he’ll find you something. And Binnie, write to your wife, tell her how you feel and ask her to give you another chance to make a go of the marriage, it might work.’

Binnie began to cry, tears rolling along his tanned cheeks and his big shoulders shaking. Llinos went to him and cradled his head against her breast, patting his shoulder as though she was his mother, not a friend he had not seen for years.

It was at that moment the door to the sitting room opened and Joe walked into the room. He took one look at the embracing couple and without a word turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Lily was standing at the vegetable stall in the market, examining a box of cabbages with a critical eye. Mrs Sparks was partial to fresh vegetables and none came fresher than the ones brought from the farms of Port Eynon and Gower. Lily paid for the cabbage and tucked it into her basket. It was time she was getting back.

Alice had been extra friendly that morning, pleased that Lily had handed over her small supply of money. Lily had watched her put the bag of coins away and felt a dart of apprehension; that money was all she had in the world.

‘Well I’ll be blown down by a feather, if it isn’t my old friend Lily!’ The voice at her side startled her and Lily spun round prepared to be reproving of such familiarity.

‘Polly!’ She stared at the girl with whom she had once shared all her secrets, not sure if she was happy or alarmed to see her again. Since coming to Swansea, Lily had thought better of contacting Polly. Dealing with Polly usually spelled trouble. In any case, with Watt’s help she had managed just fine on her own.

‘You’re looking well,’ Lily said, her eyes running over her friend’s good clothes and fashionable hairstyle. Polly must have found a rich admirer.

‘I am very well. Come and have a cuppa something with me, I’ll pay.’ That was a turn up for the book, Polly never used to have money, she had spent it as soon as she got it.

Lily looked around anxiously. ‘I don’t know. I should be getting back, I’m a working girl, mind.’

‘Oh, come on!’ Polly pulled at her arm. ‘Half an hour won’t hurt one way or the other. It’s a long time since I had anyone to talk to.’

Lily followed her into the Market Inn and the two girls seated themselves in the tiny snug designed for the use of ladies. And Polly did look every inch the lady. Gone was the tangled hair and the shabby clothes. Polly was wearing a well-cut, high-waisted dress in a blue organza and over it a small neat jacket. Her hair was clean, drawn back from her face with two curls hanging beside her cheeks. It looked as if Polly’s fortunes had risen just as surely as Lily’s own fortunes had fallen.

‘Where you working then?’ Polly asked. ‘Not back at the pottery, I’ll warrant!’ She giggled. ‘Wouldn’t want you there, not after the trouble you caused.’

‘Come on, Polly, all I did was fall in love with the wrong man. Saul Marks was a bad influence on me, you know that.’ She paused for breath, settling more comfortably on the wooden seat.

‘Anyway, I’m working for a Mrs Sparks, she’s the wife of the bank manager.’ She tried to make the job sound grand but wearing her cloak over a voluminous apron did nothing to hide her humble occupation of maid.

‘Not that old harridan! You must be mad!’

Lily looked away. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers.’

Polly ordered cordial for the both of them and put some coins on the table. ‘Please be quick about it, landlord, a lady could die of thirst waiting to be served.’ She dropped the coarse manner of speech she normally used and spoke as though she had been bred to privilege and riches.

‘You’ve come up in the world, Polly, what are you doing?’ Lily whispered.

‘I’m married.’ Polly held out her hand and showed the gold band and the diamond-encrusted ring beside it. ‘Jem is an old fool but I give him a bit of life in the bedroom, know what I mean?’ Her rough speech had returned, she obviously did not feel the need to put on an act with Lily.

‘You’ve fallen on your feet then,’ Lily said enviously. ‘I was married as well, Tom was a good man and when he died I thought I’d be safe for life. I had a lovely cottage and enough money to live on and then James turned up.’

‘James?’

‘Yes, Tom’s heir, so he claimed. I thought him a real gent until the night he came to my room and . . .’ She broke off, not sure how much she should tell Polly.

‘And what?’ Polly’s eyes were wide. ‘Did he force you, or what?’

‘Well, not exactly,’ Lily said. ‘I was quite happy to give him some womanly comforts but then he thought he’d make a business out of me.’

‘How do you mean?’ Polly was leaning forward, practically licking her lips, but then she had always been common, a hussy willing to go with any man.

‘He brought in some friends.’ She decided she might as well tell Polly the whole story, she was not the sort to be shocked, that was something in her favour. ‘There was I thinking they wanted supper and a bed for the night and they had different ideas.’ She sniffed. ‘They thought I was part of the bargain.’

‘Oh, sounds like a bit of a laugh.’ Polly giggled. ‘I can’t imagine you having men flocking around you, you always seemed a bit, well, not interested in it if you know what I mean.’

‘They didn’t care if I was interested or not!’ Lily said acidly. ‘They would have been content to take what they wanted regardless of my feelings. Well, I wasn’t having that, I took off in the middle of the night.’

‘So you didn’t get anything out of the deal then? That’s a shame.’

‘Oh, I made sure I got some money.’ Lily smiled, her tension relaxing. ‘I robbed the lot of them, took every penny I. could find including what James had in his pockets.’

‘Good for you!’ Polly slapped her knee in delight. ‘You learned somethin’ from Polly then, never give anything for nothing. What you done with it, your money, I mean?’

‘I gave it to Mrs Sparks, she promised to invest it for me.’ Lily looked up as the landlord brought a jug and some cups. She could see that Polly had no intention of pouring the cordial so she poured it herself. Polly was looking at her thoughtfully.

‘That’s the last you’ll see of that money! You didn’t learn enough from me, my girl!’

Lily shook her head. ‘Alice Sparks thinks she’s a cut above everyone, she treats me like a slave not a maid. Sometimes I feel I could slap her smug face. As for
him
, well Mr Sparks walks about the place as if there’s a bad smell under his nose but I don’t think they’d steal my little investment.’

‘Forget your money and Mrs Sparks and come to work for me,’ Polly said. ‘You could live better in my house than you’ve ever done in the Sparks’s little place.’

‘It’s very kind of you, Polly, but I’d have to give in my notice.’ Lily was not at all sure she wanted to work for Polly. Polly was the sort to have men around the place, men with no good intentions. In any case, she needed to keep her eye on the money Alice was investing for her. Polly was just being her usual nasty self; Mrs Sparks would see her money was invested and, with luck, Lily might well become as rich as Polly.

‘Don’t be daft!’ Polly laughed. ‘Just tell that old battleaxe that you’ve got something better. Think about it, you just have to pack your things and come over to me. You know where I live, don’t you?’

‘No.’ Lily was mystified; why should she know where Polly lived?

‘You don’t know nothing, do you?’ Polly pushed her arm. ‘My old man owns the Tawe Pottery! Along with a few other old geezers, that is. I live in the big house that used to belong to the Morton-Edwardses until the place was sold. What do you think, me in the big house, is that a turn up for the book or what?’

Lily could not believe it. ‘You are living in the house that belonged to the Morton-Edwards family? You have come up in the world!’

‘There you are then.’ Polly was delighted at Lily’s surprise. ‘Didn’t think I’d done that well, did you?’

Lily felt the sour taste of jealousy in her mouth. Polly of all people living in the lap of luxury; it just was not fair. There was she, Lily, a talented painter, wasting her time serving people like the Sparkses and her friend Polly, who had no manners, was lording it about in a big posh house.

‘No, I can’t say I did.’ Lily did her best to smile. ‘You’ve done well, Polly, you really have and I congratulate you.’

‘There we are then, it’s settled, you get your things and when you’re ready come up the house and we’ll settle you in. You never know, I might be able to introduce you to some other foolish old man who’s more interested in what’s under the skirts than what’s in your brain.’ She picked up her bag and got to her feet.

‘Better go,’ she said. ‘We’re having visitors this afternoon, they’ll have tea with us and then my old man will take them off to his den and booze with his mates and tell them all what a stud he is. Can I give you a lift anywhere? I told the driver to pick me up just along by the beginning of Market Street.’

Lily shook her head. ‘I’ll walk with you to the end of the road, though.’ She was not sure that she quite believed Polly’s story and yet her clothes and jewellery looked fine enough. Together, they left the inn and Lily’s basket of vegetables weighed heavily on her arm. Seeing them together, people would think that Polly was the mistress and Lily the servant; it was not a thought Lily relished.

The carriage was waiting as Polly had predicted and, when he saw her, the driver leapt down to open the door. The coat of arms gleamed in the sunlight; the brass-work shone like gold and the driver was liveried and respectful.