Sweet Rosie (31 page)

He closed his eyes, remembering the softness of her, the scent of her skin, the way her eyes lit up when they saw him. Abruptly, the picture came to him of their last encounter when Hortense had attacked him, raining blows on him, her face white with pain, her eyes darkly shadowed. How could he have hurt her so badly?

‘Oh, God, be kind, let my wife forgive me,’ he said out loud.

The sun was setting as he entered the streets of West Troy; the buildings bathed in a red-gold glow seemed to welcome him home. He felt his spirits lift as he passed the house where the McCabe family lived. All seemed quiet and he did not stop.

He stood for a long time outside his own house. The windows were open, the soft rise and fall of voices drifted to him from inside. He felt his heartbeat quicken as he knocked timidly on the open front door.

Justine’s eyes widened as they rested on him. She darted back into the house calling out loudly, ‘The master’s come home! Miss Hortense, the master’s come home.’

He stood on the porch, his heart pounding with fear. What if his Hortense turned him away? His life would be over, there would be nothing left to hope for. He could not settle in Swansea, America was in his blood, but without his wife and family even the land that had become dear to him held little appeal.

She came running out of the drawing room, her eyes alight, her cheeks red. When she saw him she stopped for a moment as though unable to believe he was really there. Then she was flinging herself into his arms, her tears wet against his neck. He held her close, breathless with the joy of holding her again, unable to believe that she wanted him, that she was clinging to him as tightly as he was clinging to her.

She was sobbing in his arms and he swallowed his own tears as he bent to kiss her trembling mouth. How he loved her, she turned his blood to water with love. He felt her soft arms around him and he sent up a prayer of thanks.

‘Come in,’ she said at last. ‘Come in, my darling, you look worn out.’ She drew him into the house and waved her hand at the gaping maid.

‘Go get the bath ready, there’s a good girl,’ she said.

Binnie walked across the hall with a sense of unreality. He felt the coolness of the house, his home, close welcomingly around him. His wife was clinging to his arm. She was radiant with happiness and Binnie wanted to hold onto her, to make sure she did not vanish like an illusion conjured from his need of her.

‘Hortense, my lovely, I couldn’t stay away. I’ve dreamed of holding you in my arms, I’ve cried a million tears.’ His voice broke.

‘I didn’t know if you’d want me back, I was so frightened you’d send me away again.’ He kissed her, drinking in her sweetness. ‘Hortense, I love you more than my own life, I can’t live without you. Can you forgive me, Hortense?’

Hortense held his hand and drew him into the drawing room. She pushed the door shut and pressed herself into his arms again, her head against his chest.

‘I’ve been such a fool.’ Tears ran down her cheeks like dew. ‘I only know that I want you whatever you’ve done.’ There was a catch in her voice. ‘Life’s so short, too short, my darling, for us to be apart.’

He did not remember how long they stood holding each other but, at last, Hortense drew away. He put his hands on her cheeks and looked into her eyes. ‘I love you, Hortense. I will never hurt you again. I give you my solemn promise that my life will be spent making up to you for what I’ve done.’

Hortense made an effort to compose herself. ‘Never mind all that now, you’re home and you smell like a horse!’ She smiled. ‘I’ll put out some clean clothes for you. And then you must eat something, you’re so thin I can feel your bones.’

‘How are the boys?’ He looked into her face, catching something from her expression that made him apprehensive. ‘They’re all right, aren’t they?’

‘The boys are fine.’

‘But something is wrong?’ he said and she nodded.

‘Have your bath and a good meal and then we’ll talk.’ She pushed him gently towards the door. ‘The water will be nice and hot, freshen yourself up then you’ll look more like my handsome Binnie, my dearest husband.’

There was no bitterness in her voice and Binnie sent up a silent prayer. She had forgiven him for deceiving her. He caught her to him again and bent his face into the warmth of her neck. She was warm and clean and the softness of her breasts against his chest made him long to taste her sweetness. He touched her softly and she looked up into his eyes.

‘I love you, Binnie.’ She slapped his hand away. ‘Now, I won’t tell you again, go and get cleaned up then we’ll talk.’ She followed him to the outhouse and watched as he stripped off his clothes. She laughed as she saw that he was aroused.

‘You’ll never change!’ she said chidingly but there was a gleam of happiness in her eyes that made him feel ten feet tall.

He bathed swiftly, enjoying the feel of hot water against his dusty skin. The water was scented with roses and the moonlight shone in through the outhouse window. He sighed with happiness; he was home, Hortense wanted him, she was giving him a second chance. What more could any man ask of life?

Llinos stared into the coals burning low in the grate and her eyes blurred with tears. She was so lonely for Joe. She prayed every night for him to come home to her so that they could talk but he never came. Was he making love to the Indian right now? It did not bear thinking about.

Binnie’s words ran through her mind like a haunting tune. He had not meant to add fuel to the flames by telling her about the Indian girl Joe had brought home with him. But, now, the other woman in Joe’s life had become a reality. Every time she thought of Joe with the beautiful Sho Ka it brought Llinos to the edge of despair.

She had tried to think the matter through rationally; perhaps when Joe went to America to see his mother he had met Sho Ka again and realized that he loved her more than he loved his wife.

Llinos needed him to be honest and tell her face to face that their marriage was over. She wanted to hear about Sho Ka from his own lips. And yet if he walked into the room right now her courage would fail her, she was sure of it.

At last, she called the new maid to damp down the embers of the fire. She rubbed her eyes wearily; she would go to bed but she would not sleep. She would lie awake, tossing and turning in the darkness. Her life was in chaos; she was not being fair to Charlotte or to Lloyd or even to herself. She must stop agonizing over Joe and get on with her life.

When at last she crawled into bed, Llinos curled herself into the pillows for comfort. She felt tears burn in her eyes and cursed herself for a fool. She had learned a long time ago that self-pity was a waste of time.

In the morning, as Llinos got ready for work, she was determined to rebuild her life. She rolled up her sleeves and wrapped an apron around her waist. After she had checked that Lloyd was with Eira, busily engaged in his lessons, she would spend the day in the sheds, overseeing the painting of the new patterns. At least she could occupy her mind during the day. It was the long evenings and the lonely nights when she missed Joe most.

Lloyd seemed more boisterous than usual, running around the study with a toy horse and cart in his hand.

Eira was doing her best to get him ready for his lessons. ‘Come on, Master Lloyd, what will your father think of us if you don’t learn to read and write and make sums?’

Lloyd looked up mutinously as his mother came into the room. ‘Where is my father, why isn’t he here?’ he demanded.

Llinos felt her stomach turn over. ‘Daddy has to work, lovely, just like other fathers.’

‘But he’s away all the time,’ Lloyd said. ‘Doesn’t he want to be with us any more?’

Llinos hugged him. ‘Of course he does!’ she said emphatically. ‘He loves you very much.’ She was not aware that she had put the emphasis on ‘you’ until she caught Eira’s solemn look.

Lloyd wriggled away from her embrace. ‘And he loves you too, Mummy. So why doesn’t he come home to us?’

‘I don’t know.’ Llinos felt suddenly weary. ‘Be good now and learn your lessons, I’ve got to do some work.’

Lloyd dropped his toy on the floor and kicked it across the room. ‘You’re always working and Daddy’s always away, I hate you!’

Llinos left the room, resisting the urge to slap her son. It was not Lloyd’s fault that he was misbehaving. He was bewildered by his father’s neglect and so was she; neither of them deserved such cavalier treatment.

Llinos made her way downstairs and through the back of the house to the yard. The bottle kilns rose high into the sky and the heat and smell from them was strangely comforting. This was her life, the pottery, it was what she knew and if Joe did not want to be part of it then she would just have to get on with it alone.

Pearl, against all opposition, had come back to work but she looked pale and drawn and the light of fun had gone from her. She no longer teased the younger women or flirted with the men; she was subdued by the cough that constantly racked her.

‘Are you sure you’re fit enough to be working?’ Llinos touched Pearl’s forearm, daubed now with paint. ‘You still look so pale and tired.’

‘Don’t you start, Llinos,’ Pearl said with an attempt at jocularity. ‘I’ve had enough nagging from Rosie and Watt as it is.’

She leaned closer to Llinos. ‘I want to work, Llinos, love.’ Pearl’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m an old fool I know but the thought of sitting in a corner to die drives me out of my mind. I’ll just take my time, paint a few pots if that’s all right by you.’

Llinos rested her hand on Pearl’s shoulder, feeling the bones through the material of her dress. Pearl was wasting away and the thought was like a blow. Everything Llinos had known and loved was vanishing before her eyes.

‘You live your life, Llinos, live it to the full,’ Pearl said, ‘because it has a way of drowning you in years and making you old.’

She looked down at the pot she was painting. ‘If your man don’t love you any more then find one as does. That’s my advice and I mean it from a kind heart.’

‘I know.’ Llinos walked away, clasping her hands together to stop them from trembling. So even Pearl had noticed that Joe was no longer home. Pearl, who was older and wiser than Llinos, was telling her to find another man. Did everyone know that Llinos was a rejected wife then?

Llinos looked at the patterns developing on the china and felt a tug at her heart. Gone were the bold designs of the firebird, gone were the sweeping tail feathers and the eager head poised as though for flight. In their place were the cool colours of wild flowers, the softness of rose petals, the azure of the bluebells. It was all more fitting than the Indian designs and yet Llinos felt as though abandoning them was abandoning Joe.

Watt joined her as she watched one of the new artists brush in a variety of foliage for the backdrop of flowers.

‘Pearl’s come back to work then?’ Llinos led him out of earshot of the new girl. ‘She looks so dreadfully ill.’

He shrugged. ‘I know but try telling her that. I suppose she feels anything is better than brooding over what no-one can change.’

Llinos looked up at him. He did not look a happy man. ‘Is marriage suiting you, Watt?’ she asked quietly.

He smiled. ‘I am content, Llinos; don’t you worry about me.’

‘I do worry about you, though.’ She took his hand and squeezed it. ‘I want you to be happy, Watt, you’re very dear to me.’

‘I am happy,’ he said quickly. ‘Rosie is a good wife, she is full of fun. And she’s a good cook into the bargain, what more could any man ask?’

‘I’m glad to see you smiling again. I know you can’t have got over Maura in just a few months but at least you are not alone.’

‘And you are.’ Watt walked with Llinos into the yard, which was littered with discarded shards of pottery. Watt kicked at a piece of clay and looked around him in disgust. ‘I’ll have to have a strong word with the younger boys, the yard never looked this untidy when I was cleaning it up.’ He did not look at her. ‘About Joe.’

‘Don’t!’ Llinos said. ‘You were always a good worker and a good friend but please, Watt, don’t talk about Joe. I know you mean well and you are concerned about me but this is something I have to sort out for myself.’

‘Maybe,’ Watt sounded doubtful, ‘but if you need to find him, I know where he is. In the event of an emergency you should be able to get hold of him.’

Her heart quickened. She stared up at Watt, torn between wanting to know and fear of what she would learn. At last, she took a deep breath. ‘I suppose you’d better tell me then.’

‘He’s got a house, it’s in the Vale of Neath, a lovely place with a stream and a waterfall and trees everywhere.’ Watt looked down at her. ‘He’s there with a woman. She’s called Sho Ka.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘The locals call them “foreigners” but then everyone is a foreigner to them except someone born in the vale.’

‘How do you know all this?’ Llinos asked, the pain making her voice almost unrecognizable.

‘Rosie’s folks from Neath came to visit. David is her cousin, a widower with two small daughters. He talked a great deal about Joe. He didn’t have any idea Joe was your husband, of course. I’m sorry, Llinos.’

‘I knew he had a woman,’ Llinos said listlessly. ‘I didn’t know who it was until Binnie let the cat out of the bag. Before he went away he told me Joe had brought an Indian girl back here with him.
I
knew it had to be Sho Ka.’

‘Look, Llinos,’ Watt put his arms around Llinos’s shoulders and walked her towards the house, ‘take time off, think this thing through and don’t jump to conclusions. Joe is not the sort of man to forget his marriage vows.’

‘But then is any man the sort?’ Llinos asked. ‘Look at Binnie, he married Maura and soon learned it was a mistake. His marriage vows didn’t stop him from running off to America, did they?’

‘I know.’ Watt looked downcast. ‘I never thought it of Joe, though, he had such principles, he adored you. I just can’t understand him going off to live with another woman.’