Sweet Rosie (28 page)

Pearl had coaxed Willie into playing the fiddle and the beer flowed, spilling onto the flagged floor of the kitchen and soaking the thin mats in the parlour, and the party atmosphere was almost too much to bear. Rosie thought she would burst with the joy of it all.

Pearl took the fiddle from Willie and handed it to one of her sons. ‘Come on, me lad, it’s time you danced with me!’ She held onto Willie, twirling around as though she was a young girl again, careless of the pain in her chest.

‘I’ll be glad when we can get away,’ Watt said. ‘I feel as if I’m the star turn at the circus.’

Rosie felt a shadow fall over her happiness. She touched Watt’s cheek, her eyes misted with tears. ‘Aren’t you happy, love?’

Suddenly the music stopped. Rosie looked up to see Pearl doubled over in pain. ‘It’s nothing!’ she gasped. ‘I’m just too old for all this dancing.’

Rosie was frightened by the pallor on her mother’s face. Pearl staggered and would have fallen if Willie had not been close enough to support her.

‘Mam!’ Rosie rushed to her mother’s side. What’s wrong, Mam?’

Pearl had difficulty speaking. ‘Take me upstairs,’ she whispered and Rosie took her arm, leading her towards the door. Rosie could feel her mother trembling as she helped her upstairs. The freshly painted room, the clean patchwork quilt and the vases of flowers appeared incongruous now as Pearl moaned in pain, falling onto the bed, the terrible coughing convulsing her thin body.

‘Get the doctor.’ Rosie spoke as calmly as she could and Watt, standing nervously in the bedroom, nodded to Dom. The boy, his face as white as his mother’s, clattered back down the stairs.

‘
Duw!
’ Pearl gasped. ‘I don’t need no doctor, love. I’ll be right as rain in a minute.’

The pain caught her again and Pearl gasped, holding tightly to Rosie’s hand. ‘Sorry, love, I’m spoiling your wedding night.’

‘Hush about that!’ Rosie looked up and caught Watt’s eyes; he shook his head sadly. Rosie felt fear rush through her. Was Mammy going to die?

Watt was at her side, his arm supporting her. ‘The doctor will be here soon and then everything will be all right.’

Rosie felt a sense of panic flood through her; looking at Pearl’s grey face and haunted eyes, Rosie wondered if anything would ever be right again.

Binnie had left the small house in Greenhill while the music was still loud and the celebrations were in full swing. Good old Pearl had kissed him and wished him well in America and he had smiled as she swung into a dance with her man.

He hoisted his small bag of possessions higher onto his shoulder and strode down the hill, seeing the gleam of the sea on the horizon. Soon he would be on the water, sailing back across the wide Atlantic Ocean. The thought thrilled him. A horse and cart rattled past and Binnie looked up at the driver, there was a medical bag at his side attesting to the fact that he was a doctor. Some poor soul was sick but in the huddle of streets in Greenhill that was nothing unusual.

A voice called out behind him, bringing him to a halt. ‘Binnie Dundee back from America, well well, it’s a long time since you showed your face round here.’

Binnie turned to see the outline of a woman in the brightness of the moonlight.

‘You should be too ashamed to show your face around these parts. Binnie Dundee, the rat from the gutter!’

‘Are you drunk?’ Binnie asked evenly. ‘What sort of woman accosts a man in the street at this time of night?’

The woman drew nearer. ‘You no good wretch! How could you leave my niece Maura the way you did?’ He recognized the voice, knew that the insult was intended to anger him. All it did was to drive the knife of guilt deeper into his heart.

He raised his hat. ‘Goodnight to you, Mrs O’Brian, shouldn’t you be indoors by now?’ He tried to walk away but a thin hand grabbed him, holding onto his coat sleeve.

Kate O’Brian stood solidly in front of him, peering up into his face, trying to see his expression in the darkness.

‘You killed her, that’s what, you and your faithless ways put our Maura into an early grave.’

He felt weary to the bone, too disheartened to argue with the woman. Swansea, it seemed, held nothing for him but recriminations and bitter memories.

‘Anything you say, Mrs O’Brian, now let me go on my way if you please.’ He shook off her hand and walked away, knowing that tears were running unchecked down his cheeks. He would not sleep that night; as he began his journey home he would try in the hours of darkness to exorcize his guilt, to pray to God for forgiveness for hurting the only two women who had ever been important to him.

He quickened his step; the sooner he was on board the
White Dove
the better. The only person in the whole of Swansea who would be sorry that he was leaving was Llinos Mainwaring. She had been so kind, so understanding when he told her of his decision to return to America. She hugged him and handed him his wages with a handsome bonus included.

He heard the rumble of wheels and stepped to the side to make way for the carriage and pair that was coming towards him. ‘Want a ride the rest of the way?’ Llinos was leaning out of the window. ‘Come on, Binnie, climb in, I want to wave you off properly.’

‘Llinos, you shouldn’t be out at night alone, not in this sort of district,’ Binnie said.

‘I’m not alone, Eynon is here too.’ Eynon Morton-Edwards pushed open the carriage door and Binnie nodded. ‘Thank you, Mr Morton-Edwards, I’ll be glad of the ride.’

He sat beside Llinos and she took his hand. ‘I hope you’ll find happiness in America,’ she said. ‘But, whatever happens, I know you are doing the right thing going back there.’

‘I feel it’s right, too.’ He smoothed her fingers. ‘And you, Llinos, will you be happy?’ She did not reply and he tried to see her expression in the darkness.

‘I can see something is wrong between you and Joe.’ He hesitated. ‘Is it anything to do with the Indian girl Joe brought from America with him?’

‘Indian girl?’ Llinos said faintly.

He realized at once that he had made a mistake. Llinos had known nothing about the Indian girl.

‘I’m sorry,’ Binnie spoke quickly. ‘It was just gossip, I expect. I’m forever getting the wrong end of the stick, take no notice of what I say.’

‘It must be Sho Ka,’ Llinos said and Binnie heard the tremble in her voice. ‘You remember, Binnie, we saw her that time we went to America? Joe was betrothed to her before he met me. She’s so very lovely, how can I compete with her?’

Binnie held her hands. ‘Look, Llinos, don’t jump to conclusions and don’t throw everything away like I did. If you love Joe, talk to him. I’m sure he can explain everything.’

‘I expect so.’ She did not sound convinced. ‘Now you go back to your wife. Once you’re home, everything will be all right for you, I feel it in my bones.’

‘Take care of yourself, Llinos, and thank you for all you’ve done,’ Binnie said. He slid from the seat as the carriage rumbled to a stop on the dockside where the sailing ships bobbed on an eager tide. ‘Look after yourself, Llinos.’

Binnie looked back once at the folding hills around the huddled town and then up at the stars twinkling overhead. He knew in that moment that he was leaving his past behind him for good. His ghosts were exorcized.

He walked swiftly now towards the ship that was to carry him across the Atlantic and back to West Troy and suddenly Binnie’s heart was light. He was going home.

Rosie was managing the house more efficiently than Pearl ever had. Pearl sat in the old armchair in the kitchen and looked around her, admiring her daughter’s handiwork. The place was spotless. Rosie cooked with little fuss and the washing and ironing were done to perfection. But Rosie was not happy and it troubled Pearl.

Pearl had been housebound since her lung sickness had flared up and she had more time to think. Now she lived vicariously through the lives of her children. Willie came to see her often but his heartiness and good health wearied her.

She spent very little time out of her bedroom, the room that should have been Rosie’s and Watt’s. But when she did venture downstairs her sharp eyes missed nothing. Pearl saw that Rosie did not smile much any more and as for Watt, well, she had grave doubts about Watt. He seemed agreeable enough as he praised his wife’s cooking and complimented her on the pristine whiteness of his shirts but there was a hint of unhappiness in his eyes which Pearl, even with her new-found sensitivity, could not understand.

Pearl looked out of the window, wishing she had the strength to walk in the backyard, to touch the washing blowing in the breeze. But her days were numbered, she knew that better than anyone.

She left the window and sank into a chair with a sigh of relief; she was tired, weary to the bone. She got tired very easily these days and the tears were never far from her eyes. It seemed as if, without her noticing, old age had caught her in his trap.

‘Hello, Mam, you look all washed out.’ Rosie had been to the market and, as she put the basket of vegetables on the table, the smell of fresh leeks made Pearl feel hungry.

‘I’ll make you a nice cup of tea now, love.’ Pearl made to get up but Rosie waved her back into her chair.

‘You just sit down by the fire and I’ll make the tea.’

Pearl watched her daughter as she poured boiling water into the brown earthenware pot and felt a glow of pride. They were one of the few families who could afford tea in the whole of Greenhill. Watt’s wages made for a good easy living, something Pearl had never experienced before.

Pearl rubbed her eyes worriedly; she sometimes felt that Watt’s marriage had been forced on him by her illness. He had been lonely, too, missing Maura, and Rosie was sweet enough to turn any man’s head. And she had been his for the asking. Still, marriages had been based on less.

Her own marriage had been one of convenience at first, arranged for her by her overbearing father. Pearl’s protests that she did not love the man had been brushed aside. But love had grown and together Pearl and her husband had made a fine upstanding family life for their children so there were no regrets.

Pearl sipped her tea, the heat of it stung her gums where she had teeth missing but her stomach gurgled in appreciation. ‘Lovely cuppa, Rosie.’ She held the cup between both her hands. Her fingers were no longer stained with paint and glaze but were unnaturally white against the china.

She wondered about the new patterns Llinos had designed, nice paintings with pretty tea roses sticking out of bunches of wild flowers. More in keeping, Pearl thought, than the bright firebird designs the pottery had been using.

‘Strange really,’ she said out loud, ‘I never thought anything would go wrong between those two.’ She saw Rosie look at her, eyebrows touching her hairline.

‘What are you going on about, Mam?’

Pearl smiled. ‘Oh, just thinking out loud, love. Llinos and her man, well they don’t seem to be together much lately, that’s all.’

‘But they’re an old married couple now,’ Rosie said reasonably. ‘I don’t suppose they want to live in each other’s pocket any more, do they?’

Pearl looked at her darkly. ‘You got a lot to learn about love, girl.’ She held out her cup for more tea and Rosie obliged by lifting the china pot from the hob.

‘I suppose you’re right.’ She sat opposite her mother. ‘I love Watt more than I thought I ever could love a man. It’s just like you said, Mam, I want him by me day and night.’ She hesitated. ‘Only I don’t think he feels the same way.’

The conversation was taking a turn Pearl did not like. ‘Men are different,’ she said quickly. ‘They have their work and their pals down at the beer house and their woman is only ever a part of their life, it’s a quirk of nature, love.’

Rosie sighed. ‘I suppose so.’

Pearl leaned across the table. ‘He’s good to you, in bed I mean?’

Rosie blushed and looked down at her hands shyly. ‘Just being with him makes me feel good.’

‘Then he’s doing right by you,’ Pearl said. ‘And you leave him be. The more a woman nags a man the more time he’ll spend out of her sight.’

‘Is that what’s wrong with Llinos and her husband then?’ Rosie asked. ‘Does she nag him, do you think?’

Pearl shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, love, Llinos don’t seem the kind of woman to nag, but something is wrong and that’s for sure. But then the threads that bind a man and woman together are very frail, they could be broken by a careless word.’

Pearl looked closely at her daughter. ‘My only advice to you, love, is to keep Watt happy in the bedroom,’ she said. ‘I know you’re not asking me but I’m telling you anyway, a man happy with his wife in between the sheets rarely strays.’

Rosie looked down at her hands. ‘Watt wouldn’t do that,’ she said. ‘I know I haven’t been married to him for long but he’s an honest man. Don’t you think so, Mam?’

‘Honest he may be,’ Pearl said. ‘But it don’t pay to be too sure about anything when it comes to men. Any man could be tempted, even an honest man.’ She paused. ‘Take Llinos and Joe, lovers from heaven once.’

‘You think Joe . . . Mr Mainwaring has got another woman then?’

Pearl shook her head. ‘It’s only a feeling, love, but yes, the signs are all there.’ And they were. Joe away most of the time and Llinos going about with a long face. And now the change in the patterns for the china. Oh, yes, the signs were there all right and Pearl had the strongest feeling that Llinos had read them loud and clear.

Well, it was nothing to do with her any more. Pearl’s days at the pottery were over and done with. She had to be content now to sit by her fireside and make the most of the days she had left. They were not many according to the doctor who saw her on Rosie’s wedding day.

Pearl looked out into the sunlit yard and prayed to God in his heaven to let her live a little while longer. Just a few more months, time enough for Watt to get Rosie in the family way. She spoke her thoughts aloud.