Sweet Rosie (29 page)

‘When are you going to give me a grandchild, Rosie?’ Pearl watched her daughter’s face and saw that Rosie was near to tears.

‘Never the way things are going on between me and Watt!’ Rosie rushed from the room and Pearl heard the floorboards above her creak. She put her hand to her eyes.

‘Silly girl.’ She comforted herself. ‘Her old man probably forgot to kiss her good morning before he left for work.’

She settled back into the rocking chair, adjusting the cushion behind her head and, with the sunlight on her face, she slept.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Alice Sparks was enjoying herself. She picked up a bolt of rich curtain material and held it up to the light slanting in from the shop doorway. The shades of blue striped with beige would look good against the high windows in the new house.

‘I’ll have the whole bolt,’ she said. ‘Please deliver it to this address.’ She handed the obsequious salesman her card, proud of the gold lettering that spelt out her name and her new address.

Highmoor was built in the prestigious Mount Pleasant area of Swansea, sited on a hillside facing the sea. It was an old house of mellow stone, built to last. It was quite large, not as elegant as the home in which she had spent her childhood but a great improvement on the house in Pleasant Row.

At the thought of Pleasant Row she frowned. It had been too small to house a family and the new servants. Now, however, she felt her position had improved and the new servants were fitting in quite well.

Lily, the stupid girl, had given in her notice, making some absurd excuse that she was to be engaged as a companion to a wealthy lady. Even when Alice had told her of the move to a better location, a nicer house, she could not be persuaded to stay.

Alice had demanded to know the name of this mysterious lady and had gasped with shock when Lily said she was going to work for Polly Boucher. Alice sniffed at the thought; Polly’s husband might be very wealthy, almost as wealthy as Alice’s father, but for all that he had married a common little trollop who had climbed up the social scale only by making an advantageous marriage. The likes of Polly Boucher would never be welcomed at Alice’s new home.

As for Lily, she had shown base ingratitude by leaving Alice in the lurch the way she had. But then what could you expect of a girl from the lower orders? Alice smiled. Lily’s small ‘investment’ had served very well. Come to think of it, Lily was better off where she was because she would never see her money again and would be in no position to protest about it.

‘Is there anything else, madam?’ the salesman was practically rubbing his hands, no doubt he would receive a handsome commission on the purchases she had made.

‘You could bring me a chair and a cup of iced lemon cordial and then show me to the furniture department,’ she said haughtily. ‘You can see I’m in a delicate condition, can’t you?’

‘I do beg your pardon, madam.’ He hastily fetched a chair and Alice sank into it with a sigh of relief. Her ankles were beginning to swell, something she had not bargained for when she became pregnant.

As she drank her iced lemon she thought of Edward, but only briefly. His objections to her spending were constant and she had decided to pay them little attention. He was a thorn in her side, the only disagreeable aspect of her improved lifestyle. Still, for the moment he was a necessity and she would have to put up with him.

Why could she not have found a man who was her social equal? Alice was from a long line of landowners. Her father owned acres of rolling meadows and dense woodlands. The house she had been born in was a cut above anything that Swansea could offer. It boasted grand architecture and a whole host of servants. Highmoor might be a step in the right direction but, while she was married to a lowly bank manager, Alice would never take her rightful place in society.

Eynon Morton-Edwards was part of the cream of Swansea’s gentry. Although his father had been in trade, he had been of good stock. Eynon was highly educated and above all he was a gentleman. It was a great pity she had not met him before she tied herself to Mr Sparks.

It was high time she had a reply to her letter urging Eynon to see her. She had risked everything on her expectations of Eynon handing her a large sum of money once he knew the truth about the twins. She would just have to convince him that he was the father, otherwise her wonderful new lifestyle would vanish before her eyes. Still, it might be worthwhile speaking to him again and failing that she would have to throw herself on her father’s mercy.

The furniture department was busy and Alice brushed people aside, claiming the attention of the manager by her imperious manner. She ordered a fine dining suite and a large comfortable sofa and then decided to call it a day.

She arrived home exhausted by her shopping trip but happy in the knowledge that, soon, all the empty spaces in the large house would be filled with good, tasteful furnishings. Had she left the matter to Edward, she would have landed up with the cheapest pieces of furniture and the most tasteless drapes he could find.

The new cook she had employed was young and fresh but used to cooking for quality. Mrs Clare, as she was called for reasons of civility, was pretty, very pretty indeed, but Alice had no fears about her being a temptation to Edward. Most masters of the house would have readily availed themselves of Mrs Clare’s charms but Edward Sparks was not a man who enjoyed the sins of the flesh. He was made of ice, neglecting his husbandly duties now that he felt his job was done.

Alice smiled to herself; little did he know that the babies she carried were the progeny of a rich man, a man who could hold up his head in any society. She was glad her children would have a father who was respected, wealthy and handsome. Eynon had a daughter but should Alice give birth to sons, Eynon would one day leave them his fortune. The thought made her very happy.

Alice heard the sound of the front door opening and then Edward’s voice echoed through the hall. He was in a bad mood, that much was clear from the high-pitched tone he used to the unfortunate maid. When he entered the room, he looked at his wife, his expression cold.

‘Alice, you are spending far too much money, my account is almost empty. You must stop this extravagance right now, do you hear me?’

‘How could I not hear you, Edward? I think the entire neighbourhood must have heard you. Kindly lower your voice and sit down. Now, tell me calmly just what it is I have done wrong.’

He mopped his face with his handkerchief; sweat beaded his prominent nose and ran along the sides of his thin cheeks. Alice wondered how she could bear to have him touch her. Well, from now on, that was just not going to happen. He would not dream of coming to her bed while she was pregnant and she would make sure he never bothered her after the twins were born.

‘You know what is wrong!’ He paced towards the window; his brow was furrowed and he seemed about to burst into tears. ‘How do you think it looks when the senior manager of the bank cannot even keep his own accounts in order? Tell me that, Alice, just tell me that!’

She sighed heavily. ‘My father has promised me some more money.’ The lie came easily to her lips. Edward was such a fool. Alice shook her head, despairing of this weakling she had married. ‘You worry too much, dear Edward. Haven’t I said I will take care of everything?’

‘Well then,’ he lowered his voice a fraction, ‘you’d better get on with it before I end up in trouble with the bank.’

‘I will write to my father at once.’ Alice rose to her feet, tired of Edward’s moaning. ‘I shall go to my room now and compose a letter. In the meantime, perhaps you would be good enough to summon the maid and order a cooling drink.’ She frowned at him. ‘It doesn’t do to get overwrought, Edward, you’ll suffer an apoplexy and then where will I be? And me with twins on the way.’

She was glad of the peaceful silence of her room. She sat in the light from the window and drew a sheet of paper towards her. It was high time that Eynon took some serious responsibility for the children he had spawned on her. She would write to him again, threaten to go to his house and confront him. He would have to see her if he wished to avoid an unpleasant scene. After all, facing Eynon was far better than facing her irate and disapproving father.

Lily was better placed now she was with Polly; she certainly felt more secure though she found the big house somewhat intimidating. Several times she had got lost in the maze of passages joining the lower rooms and had needed to ask the servants for help.

She was in a strange position, neither servant nor mistress, and as she sat with Polly in the drawing room of the big house she stared out at the neat gardens and wondered what else fate held in store for her.

She had become what Polly laughingly called a companion housekeeper and was dressed in a good silk gown and a matching jacket. That they were Polly’s cast-offs rankled more than a little but anything was better than the rough calico Lily had become accustomed to while working for Alice Sparks.

‘Jem was at it again last night, he’s a real scream when he gets randy!’ Polly kicked her legs in the air in glee. ‘You should see him, Lil, his nightshirt standing out in front as if he had a poker up there! He’s a real laugh and no mistake!’

Lily was disgusted at the very thought. Jem Boucher might be a gent but he was so old. His cheeks were sagging and his beard hung in grey straggles down the front of his waistcoat. The thought of going to bed with the man made her want to retch.

Polly read her expression well. ‘He’s not half bad for an old guy, mind,’ she said. ‘Better than some young ’uns who turn out to be one-minute wonders.’ She smiled as she saw Lily’s blank stare. ‘You
know
, in and out so quick you got no time to draw breath.’

Lily remained silent; she could not think of anything to say. Polly, sensing her disapproval, shook her head in amusement.

‘At least I had the sense to get myself out of the gutter!’ she said. ‘Sometimes, Lily, you annoy me! You act all superior but didn’t you marry a man just to get yourself a comfortable bed and food in your belly?’

Lily lowered her head; she could not deny what Polly was saying. But then her husband had been a normal man, a man who liked his comforts but not a man to make a show of them the way Jem did. Jem was an old lecher who eyed every woman as though she were a morsel of food on a plate to be devoured at will. Lily kept well out of his way.

‘I’m sorry, Polly.’ She forced herself to speak gently. If Polly should lose patience with her she would be out on the road again. ‘It’s just that I’ve never liked that sort of thing, you know that.’

‘Aye, I know, right stick-in-the-mud you are, Lily, I just don’t understand you. Lying with a man is
fun
, it’s not dirty the way you think it is.’

Lily looked up at her friend’s earnest face and wished she could be like her. She spoke her thoughts out loud. ‘You are so easy with men, Polly, and I’m so awkward with them.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t think any decent man will look at me now, I’m getting too old.’ She rose and looked in the mirror over the fireplace. She saw a pretty girl with large eyes and small, neat features. She had put on a little weight and it suited her. Her skin was unlined, her hair softly curling around her forehead. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I feel old, inside, you know what I mean.’

‘What I do know is that what you need is some fun, girl.’ Polly sat up straight. ‘Ring the bell for the maid, Lil, let’s get the carriage into town and buy some clothes, is it?’

Lily knew what that meant. Polly would buy gowns and perhaps some bonnets and even several pairs of shoes but not for her. Oh, no. Polly would have the new clothes and pass her old dresses on to Lily. Still, anything was better than sitting here in the house like a prisoner.

Sometimes Lily missed the pottery, missed the smell of oxide and tallow and missed the company of her fellow workers. Once she had thought she was above them. She had looked down on Pearl. She had even scorned Watt Bevan who had offered her a respectable marriage. If only she had taken him up on his offer she would be her own woman now, comfortable and respected in the community. Instead she was little more than a lady’s maid, pandering to Polly’s every whim.

‘Fetch the coats then, Lily,’ Polly said. ‘And for goodness’ sake cheer up, I might have a surprise for you later.’

‘What sort of surprise?’ Lily was suspicious; sometimes Polly’s surprises were not welcome ones. Like the time she had arranged for them to go to the musical evening in the town hall. The music was fine, it was the company of the two young gentlemen that Lily objected to. All they wanted was a good time and the evening had ended up with Polly giving it to them while Lily sat in the coach in a fever of impatience to be home and warm in her bed.

‘Don’t worry, we are not going out on the town tonight. No, this surprise is going to happen right here and I guarantee that you’ll like it,’ Polly said. Lily could only hope so.

It was a fine day, a little chilly but with a pale sun lighting the roadway ahead of them. The coach was a comfortable one; it should be, it had once belonged to the Morton-Edwards family and was made from the finest materials money could buy. Jem had purchased it from Eynon Morton-Edwards after Polly admired the family crest. Lily supposed that a man as rich as Eynon would have several coaches in his stables; he could well do without one of them.

The town was busy and, as Lily stepped out onto the cobbled roadway, she saw Alice Sparks going into the best clothing emporium in Swansea. Polly gestured towards the ornate doorway.

‘There’s the woman you used to work for, uppity bitch! Come on, let’s go in after her!’ Polly hugged Lily’s arm. ‘We’ll show the old madam a thing or two, you’ll see. Thinks she’s made of better stuff than me but money talks louder than any posh voice.’

Her heart sinking into her boots, Lily followed Polly inside the store. The air was heavy with the scent of rosewater and, if the rich drapes at the windows were a little dusty, it was difficult to tell in the dimness of the light.