Sweet Rosie (46 page)

‘I did not realize you would have company.’ Sparks sounded disapproving. ‘It is not usual to discuss business matters with a third party present.’

‘That’s just too bad.’ Watt’s voice was harsh. ‘I’m staying and there’s nothing you can do about it.’ He loomed over the desk and Sparks glanced at him anxiously.

‘Please be seated,’ he said quickly. ‘I’m sure we can clear this matter up very quickly.’

‘What matter?’ Watt said. Sparks looked at him in surprise. He seemed at a loss for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

‘Well, I presume there is a problem otherwise you would not be here.’ He recovered his composure and sat up straighter in his chair.

‘There is a problem certainly,’ Watt said. ‘Funds are disappearing from Mrs Mainwaring’s account at an alarming rate. We want an explanation.’

‘Well, your business, Mrs Mainwaring, it hasn’t been doing so well lately, has it?’

It was Watt who replied. ‘We know that but, all the same, we were making a more than healthy profit up to a few months ago, the pottery should be able to sustain a bad patch.’

‘Well, I don’t really know what I can do about your profits.’ Sparks adjusted his glasses. ‘I am having difficulty working out why you came here.’

‘I’ll put it bluntly, we came here to close the account,’ Watt said sharply. ‘And to have a complete audit done on the bank records and I want to know why the last audit was cancelled.’

‘The audit was not cancelled, the books were examined and everything was in order,’ Sparks said quickly. ‘I hope you are not suggesting that anything improper has occurred?’

‘We’re not suggesting anything,’ Watt said. ‘We’re telling you that we want to withdraw all the money left in the account.’

All at once, Sparks seemed to lose his aplomb. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow. Llinos could see beads of sweat on his nose and forehead and she frowned. Sparks was afraid, he was hiding something. Was it possible he had been misappropriating funds?

‘Mr Bevan is quite right,’ she said firmly. ‘I want to close my account and I want the papers ready to sign right now.’

‘But that’s impossible! I can’t work miracles you know. You will have to give me at least until the end of the week to sort this matter out.’ He paused to take a deep breath. ‘I have a life outside the bank, you know, even now my dear Alice is in labour.’

‘Your personal life is no concern of ours,’ Watt said. ‘I repeat we want to close the account and we want to do it today.’

Llinos knew Alice Sparks had been having an affair with Eynon but clearly Sparks had no idea about his wife’s infidelity. She suddenly felt sorry for him. He cut a pathetic figure with sweat running down his face and his glasses slipping along his prominent nose but he was a fellow human being. If he ever discovered that his wife had been unfaithful, he would feel as humiliated and betrayed as she did.

‘We’ll give you until the end of the week,’ she said. She held up her hand as Watt made to protest. ‘I’ve made up my mind.’ She looked at Watt and saw the protest trembling on his lips but he held his peace.

Once they were outside the bank, he took her arm. ‘Llinos, don’t you realize what you have done?’

‘I’ve given Mr Sparks some time to put matters right, if, as I suspect, he is responsible for the state of my accounts,’ she said. ‘Everyone is deserving of a chance to right a wrong, you know.’

‘Would you say that to Joe if he should come back to you now?’ Watt said and Llinos felt her colour rise.

‘That was unkind, Watt.’ She spoke unsteadily.

‘I know, I’m sorry. Forget I spoke.’ Watt helped her up into the trap. ‘But I still think you have let your heart rule your head. There is nothing to stop Sparks from clearing off with whatever money he’s pilfered from the bank.’

‘I know.’ Llinos settled her cloak around her knees. Suddenly, she felt cold, as though a chill wind had swept over her. If Joe should come to see her she would fling herself into his arms and forgive him anything. Oh yes, she could forgive him but could she ever trust him again? She looked along the road, it seemed to stretch before her long and empty. It was a reflection of what her life had become. Empty.

‘Oh God, Rosie!’ Alice clutched the girl’s arm, feeling the pain tear through her. ‘Am I going to die?’

It was Dr Rogers who replied. ‘Stop fussing, Mrs Sparks, this is something women experience every day and you are no different to any other. You are going to be perfectly all right.’

The pain intensified; her bones felt as if they were being pulled apart. She held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, scarcely daring to breathe until the pain subsided.

‘I don’t feel all right, Doctor,’ she said. ‘Women have children every day and women die in their childbed every day so don’t talk to me as though I was an ignorant peasant.’

She could see that the old doctor was taken aback by her tone. He had come into the room with his bag and had patronized her since the moment he first looked at her. Had she been living at home with her father, enjoying the large airy rooms and the huge gardens, the doctor’s attitude would have been completely different.

It brought home sharply to Alice that, now, married to Edward, she was considered a lesser person, a woman of little background and even less consequence. She had no doubt that the doctor would not bat an eyelid if she joined the ranks of women whose childbed was also their deathbed.

‘If anything happens to me,’ she said, ‘my father Dennis Carrington will stuff the Hippocratic oath right down your throat, is that clear?’

He looked at her sharply. ‘Your father is Dennis Carrington?
The
Dennis Carrington?’

‘That’s right. So take good care of me, Doctor.’ She stopped speaking as the contractions came again, tightening round her body like a ring of fire.

‘Are you hoping for a son, Mrs Sparks?’ The doctor now had a solicitous tone in his voice. ‘A grandson for Mr Carrington?’

Alice glared at him. ‘I’m having twins, you fool! Take care that you get this delivery over as soon as possible. Oh Lord! Someone help me!’

She felt the pain swamp her entire body. She was going to die; the twins would never be born. She clung to Rosie’s hand and fear was a hard knot inside her chest. She tried to calm herself but the pain was getting worse.

‘Oh thank God!’ She relaxed as the pain eased again. She appealed to Rosie. ‘I am going to be all right, aren’t I? Your mother had children and she lived through the birth, didn’t she?’

‘Bless you, yes! It always hurts a lot but once it’s over and you see your babies you forget the pain.’ Rosie was trying to sound encouraging but she had little faith in the old doctor, she had heard stories about his incompetence, but this was not the time to say so.

‘Will it take much longer now, do you think?’ Alice was aware of the pitiful tone of her voice. But she had no pride, no dignity, not with her rear end bare and the doctor fumbling about under her gown.

‘Well, Beatie reckons you have the look of a woman who births quickly. It can’t be much longer. Just hold onto my hand when the next pain comes and push with all your might.’

Alice heard the doctor grunt; she looked up at him and knew something was wrong.

‘I pray to God it’ll be over soon,’ she said. ‘I don’t think I could stand much more of this pain. Why didn’t someone tell me having children was going to be like this?’

She subsided again as the tearing pain engulfed her. Surely it was more than womankind could bear? She felt the hot flow of blood and cried out in fear. She was going to die; she would never live to see another day, to punish all men for what they had done to her. Damn it! She would not die!

She bore down when the doctor told her to and in between contractions she fell back exhausted against the pillows. At last, the doctor came and stood beside her.

‘I’m afraid we have to make a choice, Mrs Sparks,’ he said, ‘between your life and the life of the infants.’

‘Oh my God!’ Alice said hoarsely. She looked at Rosie and then back at the doctor. ‘What does that mean?’

‘All I can say is save yourself,’ Dr Rogers said. ‘The babies have been through too much to survive.’

Alice began to cry as the doctor returned to the foot of the bed and took a fearsome-looking instrument from his bag. Alice heard her own screams and then she surrendered herself to a merciful darkness where there was no more pain.

When she woke it was to see Edward sitting beside her. A nurse was bustling around the room; of the doctor there was no sign.

‘The babies?’ she said. Edward shook his head, he seemed grey, his face thinner than ever. ‘What’s happened?’

‘The twins are dead, Alice. They could not survive after what the doctor had to do.’

Alice began to cry; she wanted warm arms around her, she needed comforting words but Edward offered neither. ‘Fetch Rosie,’ she whispered and Edward, his face alight with relief, disappeared swiftly from the room.

Rosie sat with her, holding her hand. ‘It was for the best,’ she said but her face was white with shock.

‘What did they look like?’ Alice asked faintly. Rosie bent her head for a moment.

‘The boys would have been a credit to you. But it wasn’t meant to be.’ She pushed back Alice’s hair. ‘How would you have managed with sickly children?’

Alice squeezed Rosie’s hand. ‘Why are you so kind to me?’ she asked humbly. ‘I’m not a nice person, I’m sharp and thoughtless and I put on you dreadfully and yet you are the only one to show me any compassion.’

‘I like you, Mrs Sparks,’ Rosie said simply.

‘You don’t mind when I raise my voice to you and order you around as if you had no feelings?’

‘I’ve seen the other side of you.’ Rosie said. ‘When Mammy was sick you sent us food, you waited for me to come back to work, you didn’t dismiss me. You have a good heart, Mrs Sparks.’

‘Thank you for that, Rosie,’ Alice said. ‘It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. If ever I can do anything for you I will.’

She closed her eyes. ‘I will never have another baby, will I, Rosie?’

‘I don’t know, Mrs Sparks, I just don’t know about that.’

‘No,’ Alice shook her head. ‘There will be no more children for me. I’m finished with men for good.’ She opened her eyes.

‘I’m going to tell you something now, Rosie, that I would never tell anyone else in the whole world.’ She sighed heavily. ‘The twins were not my husband’s, the father was Eynon Morton-Edwards.’

‘I know,’ Rosie said. ‘I’ve known about you and him for a long time.’ She looked solemn. ‘In any case the twins were the image of Mr Morton-Edwards.’ It was a lie but she told it boldly. ‘As I said, you would have been proud of them.’

‘I’m glad about that,’ Alice said. ‘I was so overdue I was beginning to think Edward was the father.’ She smiled weakly. ‘And I would have hated them to look like him. I’m going to try to sleep now, Rosie, but promise you’ll stay with me.’

‘I promise,’ Rosie said at once, settling herself more comfortably in the chair. Alice sighed wearily; she could sleep now, knowing she was safe with Rosie beside her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

‘I am convinced I was not the father of the twins!’ Edward was standing over Alice as she lay in bed. The ache in her body was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She did not care that Edward was glowering at her like one possessed. She had other things to think about. Even ten days after the birth, she was still weak; she had lost a great deal of blood. On the third day her milk had come flowing in and she felt tearful and lost without the babies to hold in her arms.

‘I always suspected you were having an affair with Morton-Edwards and this confirms my doubts. Look!’ Edward waved the note before her eyes and she turned away. She knew the contents by heart. Eynon had written to her commiserating over the loss of the twins. It was an innocent note, polite and distant, offering help as any neighbour would, but Alice could read between the lines. So apparently could Edward.

‘All this talk about you doing good works for charity and claiming that man lent us money because he was a friend of your father, it was all lies, wasn’t it?’

‘Shut up, Edward,’ Alice said flatly. ‘And get out of my bedroom, you were never any use in it anyway.’

‘So that was your excuse for having an affair with Morton-Edwards, was it?’ He was pompous now, even in this moment of anger. His pride meant more to him than the well-being of his wife.

‘How many other men have there been, Alice? Tell me that.’ His thin face was red, his eyes narrowed, he looked almost dangerous. He was a man on the edge of madness and Alice felt the time had come for a little diplomacy.

‘There have been no other men, Edward.’ Her tone was conciliatory. ‘We are both devastated because we lost our babies but you mustn’t take your anger out on me;
I
did my best.’

He sank into the chair at the side of the bed. ‘Alice, I don’t know what to believe any more. All I know is that I’m being badgered on all sides. This man, John Pendennis, he promised me the earth if I would leach funds from the Mainwaring account. Then I find that the man is not wealthy at all, he needs other backers to help him buy the pottery and I think he has found them.’

‘What do you mean?’ Alice asked, struggling to sit up.

‘Jem Boucher, the man who bought the pottery from Morton-Edwards, he has a hand in all this. He wants to amalgamate the two potteries.’ He walked about the room, his hands thrust in his pocket.

‘You see what will happen, Boucher will put up the money to back Pendennis and I’ll end up in prison. You must do something to help me, Alice.’

‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘Leave me, Edward. Is the old man still sick?’

‘What old man?’

‘The old man who owns the bank of course!’ Alice was fast losing patience. ‘While the old man is not at the helm you must go to the bank and pretend there is nothing wrong. In a few days I should be well enough to take a carriage ride over to my father’s house. I’m sure he’ll help us.’