Sweet Rosie (45 page)

Later, when they were dressed, Polly saw him to the door. ‘Please call again, Mr Pendennis,’ she said formally, aware that one of the maids was hovering at her elbow. ‘I’m sure my husband will be sorry to have missed you.’

As John walked away, he felt the keys in his pocket and smiled. His relationship with Polly Boucher had begun well and could, if he gave it time, make him a very rich man.

‘It’s true,’ Watt looked miserable, ‘the house in Neath is now occupied by a family with five children. There is no sign of Joe, nothing to show that he was ever there.’

‘Perhaps he’s gone to America to live,’ Llinos said, her voice soft, her heart breaking. She harboured a hope that one day Joe would come back to her. But he had chosen Sho Ka, he had probably followed her to America; set up home there among his own people. Perhaps he was more Indian than white man and the tame life married to a small-time businesswoman had never suited him.

‘He might come back,’ Watt said. ‘I can’t see him leaving Swansea without saying goodbye, at least to Lloyd, can you?’

Llinos shook her head. ‘I don’t know anything any more, not about my husband anyway.’ She forced herself to smile.

‘We’d better get to work on the new designs, the pottery is selling so well that we will soon have to expand the business premises. At least I have no money worries.’ Which was just as well because Joe had not thought to see her provided for.

‘I don’t know about that, Llinos,’ Watt spoke slowly. ‘For some reason sales have dropped, we are having to cut back on production for the time being.’

‘That’s strange.’ Llinos was puzzled. ‘The “Maidens at the Well” design was so popular. What’s happened?’

‘Jem Boucher,’ Watt said glumly. ‘He’s part of the consortium that owns the pottery next door. He’s had his artists copy our patterns almost to the last detail and, what’s more, he is undercutting us for price. We will just have to think of something else, I’m afraid.’

Llinos sighed; much as she wanted to put business first and to put Joe out of her mind, it was impossible.

‘I have a headache, I promise I’ll talk about this tomorrow,’ she said. It was as though this last blow was too much for her to cope with. Joe had vanished; he had left the house in Neath without contacting her. Llinos wanted to crawl into bed, draw the sheets over her head and sleep her troubles away.

‘That’s fine,’ Watt said. ‘You do look a bit pale. Take care of yourself, Llinos, I’ll get off home now, the boys will be waiting for their tea. I’ll see you in the morning.’

When she was alone she made her way slowly to her bedroom and locked the door. She wished she could cry but her tears were all dried up and what she was left with was a feeling of despair. She had lost Joe forever. She climbed onto the bed and closed her eyes, praying for sleep. But sleep would not come. She could picture them together, Sho Ka, the baby and Joe, and the thought was like a knife turning in her heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

‘I want you to come back to me,’ Watt said. ‘Your brothers see you but by the time I come home you’ve gone.’ Rosie looked at him; he was shadowed by darkness, hovering on the back step of Alice Sparks’s house. ‘I wanted a chance to talk to you. I want you to come home so that we can give our marriage another chance.’

Rosie bit her lip. She tried to read Watt’s expression, was there even a hint that he needed her? She waited, perhaps he would plead with her, tell her he loved her, that he realized he could not live without her. He remained silent.

‘Why do you want me to come home, Watt? Everything is done for you, the cooking, cleaning and the washing. The only thing I don’t do is warm your bed.’ There was bitterness in her voice that she had never expected to feel.

He thrust his hands into his pockets, and looked up at the sky. ‘That’s not fair, Rosie. Can’t you see it’s not good to be alone all the time?’

‘I’m sorry you don’t like being alone but that’s not my problem,’ Rosie said. She was appalled by his selfish attitude; all he worried about was being on his own. ‘Well what about the boys?’ Watt spoke quickly. ‘You can’t say they are not your problem. You promised Pearl you would take care of them.’

That was not what she had wanted him to say. ‘And I do take care of them! They are well fed and they have clean clothes to wear. And, don’t forget, the boys are growing up, they are never indoors during the evenings from what you say about being alone.’

A sense of anger and disappointment filled her. Watt saw her merely as a convenience, a maid of all work at best, someone to keep him company in the long evenings. Well he was out of luck.

‘Sorry, Watt, I don’t want to come home.’ She was energized by her anger. ‘I am quite happy here working for an honest living.’ She stepped back a pace, shivering as a cold breeze touched her bare arms.

‘You married me to help the family, didn’t you? And that’s what you’re doing so don’t dare complain to me about it. In any case, I don’t want to live my life in the shadow of Maura Dundee forever.’

‘Rosie!’ Watt sounded desperate. ‘You know I care for you, otherwise I wouldn’t be here asking you to come back.’

‘Caring is one thing, loving is another. You married me out of a sense of duty,’ she said stiffly ‘And because you thought I’d make a good housekeeper.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Well I deserve better than second best. Goodnight, Watt.’

She closed the door firmly in his face and returned to the kitchen where the new maid was building up the fire. Beatie was a big girl, built like a peasant but her manner was pleasant enough.

Alice claimed that doing all the work was too much for Rosie, she needed her more as a confidante and friend. They had become as close as employer and servant could be. Alice was not the cold-hearted woman she had first appeared.

‘Cup of tea, Mrs Bevan?’ Beatie was older than Rosie but she was unmarried and showed Rosie the deference her position demanded. ‘Mrs Sparks won’t notice if we take just a few leaves out of the tin.’

‘Yes, why not, Beatie?’ Rosie sank into a chair, her head was aching but the ache in her heart was worse than any physical pain. Watt did not love her; he made that clear every time he approached her. Was he too insensitive to realize that all she wanted was to be loved as a woman should be loved?

‘Trouble?’ Beatie put the cup of tea on the table and sat down. ‘I couldn’t help hearing the sound of a man’s voice at the back door.’

‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ Rosie said quietly. She had no intention of confiding in Beatie. Rosie liked to keep her affairs private. ‘Have you prepared the vegetables for tomorrow’s dinner?’

‘Yes, Mrs Bevan, I’ve done some carrots and leeks for the stew and soaked the salt fish ready for our own supper.’

‘Right then, I think I’ll just go up to bed.’ Rosie picked up her candle and left Beatie sitting at the table. The hall was large and full of shadows and Rosie longed for the comfort of the small cottage where she had lived with her mother. In spite of her brave words to Watt, she would rather be home than living here in a house that was too large for comfort. Rosie liked the simple life.

She held the candle high as she climbed the stairs. On the landing she stopped abruptly, hearing moaning sounds coming from Alice’s bedroom. Rosie hesitated; should she enquire if everything was all right or should she just go to bed?

‘Help me!’ Alice cried out and startled Rosie almost dropped the candle. The door to Edward Sparks’s room remained firmly closed.

‘For pity’s sake someone help me!’

Rosie opened the door and held the candle high. Alice was crouched on the bed, her eyes wide with fear. ‘Get the doctor, Rosie, for pity’s sake! My labour’s started, I’m in agony!’

Rosie ran back down the stairs and burst into the kitchen. Beatie looked startled as she stepped back quickly from the arms of a strange young man.

‘I’m sorry Mrs Bevan!’ Beatie sounded panicstricken. ‘My sweetheart called to see if I was all right. I know it’s late for callers and it won’t happen again.’

‘Never mind that!’ Rosie said. ‘Fetch the nearest doctor, Mrs Sparks is having her twins!’

Beatie took her coat from the back door and flung it around her shoulders. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can but don’t worry, by the sound of her, Mrs Sparks will drop her babies in double-quick time.’

Rosie hoped not. She had enough of babies at home; she did not fancy delivering Alice Sparks’s twins. Alice was kind and much more considerate these days but if anything happened to her while Rosie was in charge there would be all hell to pay. Rosie lifted her skirts and ran quickly back up the stairs.

‘I’ve decided to change the patterns again.’ Llinos was scribbling over her drawing pad and spoke without looking up at Watt. One glance had been enough to tell her he was not feeling well. His eyes were shadowed and he had become thinner. She did not want to see too clearly. Llinos felt she could only handle her own pain at the moment. She felt she would break under the strain if she took on the troubles of others.

‘We shall introduce a more local look to the china. The beach, the rocks of Mumbles Head. Perhaps the ruined castle would make a good design, what do you think?’

‘I’m not sure, Llinos.’ Watt said doubtfully. ‘You know the people of Swansea like the traditional patterns, flowers and things.’

‘I have to do something different,’ Llinos said. ‘You know that our profit is lower than it has been for years.’

‘Yes, but something is wrong,’ Watt said. ‘It’s not just that Jem Boucher is undercutting us for price, there’s more to this than meets the eye.’

‘Well, don’t talk about it just now,’ Llinos said, not wanting to be drawn too deeply into a discussion about business matters. She was inventing new patterns; she was cutting down on workers, what more could she do?

‘I mean that yet again the bills are not being paid.’ Watt leaned forward, his hands on the small oval table and forced Llinos to look at him. ‘We are in debt with the suppliers for the second time in a few months, something is badly wrong, Llinos.’

Llinos felt as though her head were filled with cotton wool. ‘Well, what do you think the mistake is this time then?’ Her tone was more than a little sharp.

‘This is no mistake!’ Watt said. ‘We are being swindled!’ He thumped his fist on the table. ‘Wake up, Llinos, face facts will you? You should have changed banks months ago.’

‘I’m just so tired.’ Llinos rubbed her eyes wearily. She put down her pencil and leaned back in her chair. ‘I can’t cope with any extra worry, can’t you deal with this for me?’

‘No I can’t! I can’t sign the papers to close the account nor to open a new one somewhere else. I’m sorry, Llinos, but it’s time you shook yourself out of your apathy and took charge before everything falls to pieces.’

Llinos held up her hands. ‘I know, I know.’

‘Look.’ His tone was more kindly now he had got her attention. ‘I’ll come with you to the bank to sort everything out. There should be more than enough money to pay all the bills.’

‘Even with the drop in sales we’ve suffered?’

‘Even then,’ Watt said firmly. ‘Now make up your mind, Llinos, you have to take an interest in the pottery now or our creditors will close you down.’

‘All right, we’ll go to town tomorrow,’ Llinos said quietly. She was tired, so tired. If only Watt understood how disheartened she was, how weary of being alone; of spending long days and even longer nights without Joe. How could she think of business when her heart was breaking?

Watt sighed in resignation. ‘All right, Llinos, I’ll get down there and make an appointment. We won’t see Sparks this time; we’ll see the owner of the bank. I understand your father and he were friends? Well, it’s about time we started asking serious questions about what’s been happening to our funds.’

She scarcely noticed him leaving the room. She looked down at the paper and the patterns merged before her eyes. Watt was right; she had been neglecting everything, the pottery, her sister-in-law and most of all her son. She had been wallowing in self-pity for too long and she should be ashamed of herself. She screwed the paper into a ball and pushed it away. Then she put her head down on her arms and wept.

Watt did not give up easily. The next morning he was there, dressed for a trip to town, obviously expecting her to accompany him. She made an effort to smile. ‘All right, I give in, I’ll get my coat.’

The sun was shining on the cobbles of Pottery Row as the horse and trap bumped its way out of the pottery gates. Llinos sat beside Watt watching his strong hands holding the reins with ease as he guided the horse out onto the broad road running into town.

‘I don’t know what we’ll achieve,’ Llinos said. ‘I don’t even know if we’ll be given an appointment at such short notice.’

‘It’s done,’ Watt said. ‘We have an appointment for nine-thirty.’ He glanced at her. ‘I’m afraid it has to be Sparks himself, he’s been left in charge. Apparently the owner of the bank is not in the best of health. That’s the only reason Sparks is still working there at all.’

‘I see,’ Llinos was uneasy. ‘There’s something in his manner that gives me the creeps.’

‘Then let me deal with him,’ Watt said. ‘If there is anything to sign, I’ll read it over first.’ He glanced at her. ‘You are doing the right thing, you know, Llinos. I will feel more confident when your money is in another bank.’

‘Yes, so will I.’ Llinos said. The trap bounced over a stone and Llinos clung to Watt’s arm. ‘Don’t drive so fast, Watt, you’ll have us in the road!’

‘Don’t worry.’ Watt smiled. ‘I’m used to driving in worse conditions than this. Relax now, we’ll soon be there.’

He was right; within a few minutes he was clucking to the animal to stop. He tied the reins of the horse to one of the trees and helped Llinos down.

Mr Sparks kept them waiting for twenty minutes and Llinos was seething with anger by the time they were shown into his office. She stared at him, ready to do battle, but he pushed his glasses more firmly into place, treating Llinos as though he had never seen her before.