by Iris Gower
‘Oh my Lord, Binnie! I can’t believe I’m hearing right.’ She put her hands over her eyes as though she could shut out the pain. Binnie had been married, he had given his love to someone else. How could she ever trust him again? But then common sense reasserted itself. Binnie had come to her as a grown man; she could not expect him to have lived like a monk before he met her.
Startling though his confession was, she realized quite suddenly that she had not heard the full story. Why should John want to blackmail Binnie over something that happened years ago, long before the two men knew each other? A thought struck her, so dreadful that she could hardly bring herself to speak. Her hands fell limply into her lap; she stared at Binnie’s bowed head and took a deep breath.
‘And what happened to her, this wife of yours?’
‘She’s dead,’ Binnie said flatly.
A feeling of relief poured through her, she had half expected him to say the woman was alive and well, perhaps planning to come to America to fetch him. The situation was bad enough but it could have been much worse.
‘You were a widower when we married and, yes, you should have told me at the very beginning but what is so bad that John can hold it over you like a threat?’ Hortense stared at him, willing him to look at her.
‘Are you so afraid of me that you couldn’t have told me all this before? I would have understood, you know.’
She watched him twisting his fingers together, like one of her boys caught in some misdemeanour. There was more to this than he had told her.
‘Come on, Binnie, let me have it all. I know there’s more you have to tell me so get on with it.’ She was beginning to feel furious with him for his weakness. She felt the blood pound in her head. The question burst from her lips.
‘When did she die this wife of yours?’
‘Just a short while ago,’ Binnie said. ‘I was still married to Maura when I went through the ceremony with you.’
‘No!’ The word was almost a scream. She could not think, could not feel; she was numb with horror.
‘We can put it right now, Hortense,’ he said eagerly. ‘We can get married in secret. No-one need ever know the truth. There’s no harm done really, is there, Hortense?’
No harm done. He was a bigamist and she was a woman who had been made a fool of, a woman with three illegitimate sons to bring up. She suddenly felt as if the foundations of her life had given way and she was crashing to her doom.
She jumped up from her chair, pushing him away, and made for the door. It was open and outside the blossoms were on the trees, the fresh breeze perfumed with the scents of spring. It all seemed so normal and yet nothing in her life would ever be the same again.
Hortense spun round to face him, her eyes hard and angry.
‘No harm done! My boys are bastards and you say there’s no harm done! You must be crazy!’ She felt crushed. She had heard of women dying of broken hearts and she wished in this moment that she could just lie down and die. But she needed to live to protect her sons.
He stared at her miserably. ‘We can get married at once, there’s nothing to stop us now.’ He spoke pleadingly. ‘I love you, Hortense, I’ve loved you from the day we first met, you know I’ve never looked at another woman since then.’
He loved her so much that he could not trust her; he had taken her to his bed, fathered three children on her and treated her like a weak gullible fool. Their entire relationship had been built on lies and deceit.
‘John knows about all this!’ she said bitterly. ‘And no doubt Jo knows, and how many others, Binnie, ask yourself that. It will be all round the town by now.’
‘No,’ Binnie said. ‘John won’t say anything, he’s not in a position to cast stones, he’s not exactly the faithful sort, is he?’
‘Two fine lads together, is that it? Fooling your women, behaving like children. You’re worse than Daddy, do you know that? At least my father has the guts to be open about his affairs.’
‘John won’t say a word, he promised.’
‘And you really expect a man like John Pendennis to keep his promises? You’re more of a fool than I thought.’
She was in full flood now, nothing could stop the bitterness and anger and the pain from pouring from her.
‘He could tell my daddy all this and he would if it suited him. John Pendennis could tell the whole world about us living in sin. I’ll be the laughing stock of West Troy and so will the boys. Another thing, what do you think Mammy will say? You’ll be lucky if she don’t take a meat cleaver to you.’
‘I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,’ Binnie said. ‘It was just that I couldn’t stay with Maura because I didn’t love her. I felt bad running out on her and the baby but—’
His sentence was never finished. Hortense ran at him, her fingers like talons, her nails raking his face. ‘You had a child! You deserted your wife and your baby! You no good swine, you rotten waster!’ She slapped his face hard and kept slapping him. When he tried to hold her back, she lashed out at him with her feet.
‘I hate you, Binnie Dundee, I wish I had never set eyes on you! Get out of my house and out of my life before I take a knife to you.’
‘Please, Hortense, listen to me!’ He tried to catch her in his arms; incensed, she lifted a heavy jug from the table and crashed it down on his head.
‘Get out!’
‘Please, love, I’m sorry, more sorry than I can ever say. I wanted to tell you, I just couldn’t find the right moment.’
‘Don’t lie!’ she said fiercely. ‘You’ve only told me now because John forced it upon you.’ Suddenly she felt the anger drain from her. This could not be happening, it was a bad dream. She looked at her husband and shook her head. Perhaps Binnie had never loved her, he was like John, looking for a meal ticket. How could she trust a man who had deserted his wife and child, a man who had lied to her all these years?
‘Just get out of my sight, Binnie.’ She saw there was blood trickling from a wound at the side of his head. She felt nothing. She stared at him, this man she had been married to for so long and saw a stranger.
‘Surely you remember the good times, Hortense?’ he asked. ‘The times we made love, the times we marvelled over the boys?’
‘It was all a sham, wasn’t it?’ she said in a low voice. ‘You played your part well, I’ll give you that. Now, get out. I want to keep this quiet until I’ve had a chance to think things through.’
He tried to speak but she held out her hand to stop him. ‘You had better go before I kill you myself.’
‘Please, Hortense.’
She turned her back on him. ‘Get out of my life, you bastard!’
She heard him go upstairs, heard the sound of the cupboard doors opening and closing and she knew he was packing his clean clothes, looking out for himself to the last. Furious with him, she ran up the stairs, her skirts flying.
‘Leave everything!’ she shouted at him. ‘You came to me with nothing, you can leave with nothing!’
‘Be reasonable, Hortense,’ he said. ‘I have to have clothes and money otherwise where will I stay, what will I do?’
She dragged the shirt he was holding out of his hands, tearing at the cloth with her nails.
‘You will work like everyone else in this country!’ she said. ‘Your soft living is gone, you will have to find out the hard way how difficult life can be in America with no-one behind you.’
‘That’s not fair!’ he protested. ‘I’ve worked hard for your father, I’ve improved the running of the pottery and—’
‘And you’ve been well paid for it!’ She glared at him. ‘Now the free ride is over, so get out of my sight, you make me sick just to look at you.’
He left the room and she heard his hurried footsteps on the stairs. She thought she had seen the glint of tears in his eyes as he’d pleaded with her but her heart was full of grief for herself and her children, she had none to spare for him.
She heard the pounding of hooves outside and saw Binnie ride away at great
speed. He could have the horse he had taken, he at least deserved that much. Call it severance pay, she thought bitterly.
She walked slowly down the stairs and into the hallway; the door was swinging open, there was no sign of Binnie. He was gone and all she could see was a cloud of dust thrown up from the hooves of his horse. Dust, that’s what her life, in a few short moments, had become.
She longed to cry but what good would crying do? She went out onto the porch and sank onto the rocking chair. Around her, everything seemed silent, even the birds were quiet. It was as if the world had come to an end. Her world certainly had.
She tensed and sat upright. She could hear the beat of hooves on the dusty ground, the sound getting louder, was Binnie coming back to plead with her some more? But then she saw the open carriage and recognized her sister sitting in the driving seat.
‘Oh Lord!’ she said. ‘How am I going to cope with it all?’
Josephine climbed down and hitched the horses to one of the rails. She looked pale and drawn and Hortense wondered if she had seen Binnie and knew what had happened. Josephine hugged her and sat on the facing swing, her eyes closed.
‘Help me, Hortense, I can’t bear it, John’s being unfaithful to me again.’ She dabbed her eyes with a scrap of lace and, for a moment, Hortense was confused.
‘What?’
‘Have you known about it all along, Hortense? Am I just a blind fool?’
Hortense rubbed her eyes. The whole world was going mad.
‘How did you find out, Jo?’ Hortense wondered if she could find the strength to comfort her younger sister when she was feeling as if the bottom had dropped out of her own world.
‘I laid a trap for him and caught him in the act.’ Josephine gave a short laugh. ‘There he was, in the hotel in town where everyone knows him, knows me and knows our family.’ She paused and dabbed at her eyes with the tiny scrap of lace. ‘And guess who he was messing with?’
‘I don’t know,’ Hortense said, not really caring who John was going to bed with. She had troubles of her own, big troubles.
Jo began to cry. ‘Only Melia, our dear sister!’
‘Oh, God!’ Hortense said. ‘Our family is falling apart and I don’t think I can bear it.’
‘I hit her,’ Josephine said, not listening to a word Hortense was saying. ‘I slapped her face, hard. She was lying there naked with him all over her and when she saw me she didn’t even try to excuse herself. I hate her!’
‘No, it’s not her fault,’ Hortense said. ‘She was fooled by John’s charm, we were all fooled. Men! None of them are to be trusted.’
Josephine really looked for the first time. ‘You’ve been crying!’ She took her sister’s hand. ‘What’s wrong, hon? Don’t tell me Binnie’s been unfaithful too?’
‘It’s worse,’ Hortense said. ‘He was not free when he married me.’
‘What do you mean “not free”?’
‘I mean he had a wife at home. I am not his legal wife and my boys,’ her voice broke, ‘my boys are illegitimate. Don’t tell me you didn’t know. I’m sure John would have taken a delight in telling you that juicy titbit.’
Josephine hugged her. ‘He said something about another woman back home but I didn’t take a lot of notice. Binnie married! Oh hon, there was I blabbing on about my own troubles. Why have we been such fools?’
‘I am a lot wiser now,’ Hortense said harshly. ‘Binnie Dundee will never set foot in my house again as long as I live, I’ll see to that.’
Hortense stared out over the verandah, not seeing the dry earth or the dusty trail leading into town. She was seeing the face of the man she believed was her husband and the pain of his betrayal was dragging her down into an abyss. She had loved Binnie to distraction; now she despised him. Suddenly sobs racked her body and all she longed for was the comfort of her husband’s arms around her.
Llinos was tired of the jolting of the carriage; her bones seemed to ache and she had a headache coming on. She had just left Joe behind at the hotel and instead of feeling righteous, she felt empty inside. The days had passed in a haze of pain but now she was on the last stage of the journey. Soon she would be home but the further she got from Cornwall and Joe the more she felt she had been a fool to walk out on her husband.
She wondered what he was doing now. What had he thought when he saw she was gone? Would he stay in Cornwall or would he take a mail and follow her home? She had no idea why she had allowed the argument to get out of hand. It had begun with nothing and escalated into a stupid row. She should have been more reasonable.
She and Joe scarcely ever had a cross word but then everyone quarrelled at some time; it was inevitable in any close relationship. But Joe’s words had hurt her more than she believed possible. Had she been neglecting him? She did not think so. She had a young son to care for as well as a business. How could Joe expect her to be at his beck and call?
The pain in her head grew worse. She wished now that she had never embarked on this stupid holiday. She had been happy at home with her family around her; she had only agreed to the trip to please Joe. What a mistake it had been.
She felt the carriage jolt to a stop. She sat forward and leaned out of the window. ‘What is it?’ she called. The driver climbed down and looked at her doubtfully.
‘There are two ladies up ahead, Mrs Mainwaring,’ Kenneth said. ‘It looks as if they are in trouble, one of them is lying at the side of the road.’
‘We’d better help then,’ Llinos said, her hand on the door but the driver stopped her, his hand held up in a warning gesture.
‘It could be a trap, there could be robbers waiting in the trees, you never know what will happen on these lonely roads.’
Llinos pushed the door open and climbed from the carriage. She shaded her eyes and looked up ahead. One of the women was waving. She seemed small and defenceless, her clothes, though dusty, were respectable.
‘Help us, please!’ A voice called and Llinos stepped back a pace, her heart thumping. ‘I know that voice,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s Lily, she used to be a painter at the pottery.’
‘It could still be a trap, Mrs Mainwaring. Is this Lily a trustworthy person?’
Llinos thought of the way Lily had plotted against herself and Joe and shook her head. Once, it seemed so long ago now, Lily, by her trouble-making, had almost led a riot, rousing the people of the town against Joe. She certainly was not to be trusted.
‘Get into the driving seat,’ Llinos said quickly. ‘We’ll drive past, see what happens.’
The carriage jerked into movement, one of the horses whinnied a protest at the sharp flick of the whip.
Llinos stared out of the window and, as she passed the women, she saw Lily look up at her pleadingly, her eyes shadowed, her face gaunt. The other woman, clearly a servant, was lying against a boulder, clutching her side; she appeared really sick. If she was playing a part, she was playing it very well.
Around the bend of the road, the carriage drew to a halt and Kenneth climbed down. Llinos watched as he wound his way back along the roadway and soon he was out of sight behind a cluster of trees. Llinos waited, feeling nervous; she wished again that she had not been so foolish as to leave Joe behind. Her pride had got the better of her good sense.
The driver appeared at the window so suddenly that Llinos started back in alarm. ‘Sorry to startle you, Mrs Mainwaring, but they look genuine enough. Both of them are sitting on the ground now and there’s no sign of anyone else.’
‘All right,’ Llinos said, ‘turn around, we’ll pick them up.’ Lily might be an enemy but Llinos could not leave her to die at the roadside. Joe would have acted with kindness, she knew that, and he would expect her to do the same.
When the two women were seated opposite Llinos, Lily looked at her with large eyes. She was subdued; her arrogance that had been so much a part of her had vanished. She was beaten and helpless and Llinos could not help but feel sorry for her.
‘Llinos . . . Mrs Mainwaring, I didn’t kn
ow it was you but thanks for picking us up.’ Lily’s voice quivered with weakness.
‘How is your companion?’ Llinos asked, her voice cool.
Lily looked at the servant, who was grey with fatigue, and shook her head. ‘If you hadn’t come along Betty would have died,’ she said humbly. ‘And so would I. We haven’t eaten for days nor had a drink of water since yesterday morning. We’ve been afraid to stop in case we were followed.’
‘That’s your business, I don’t want to know anything about your problems. I might be letting you ride in my carriage but I don’t want anything to do with you once we get into town.’
Llinos drew a basket from under the seat and, opening it, took out a bottle of water and a cup. ‘Don’t drink too much at first,’ she warned, ‘or it will make you sick.’
She expected Lily to take a drink herself first; Lily had always been selfish, not caring who she hurt so long as she was all right. She had changed because she held the cup to the serving woman’s lips, supporting her head as she drank. Then Lily sipped a little water herself.
‘I feel better now.’ Lily licked the last vestige of water from her lips. ‘Thank you for helping us, Mrs Mainwaring. If I was you I wouldn’t have stopped, not after the bad way I treated you.’ She began to cry. ‘If only you knew how much I suffered over that, I’ve been paid back a thousand times for my wickedness.’
‘Where are you going now, which lodging house?’ Llinos asked.
‘I’ll find somewhere once we’re back in Swansea.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘Perhaps my friend Polly is still around, she’ll take me in.’
Llinos sighed, she knew Lily was waiting for an offer of help but right now Llinos’s patience was strained. She leaned back and closed her eyes, fighting back her unhappiness. The sight of Lily had brought back the past so vividly. The angry crowd outside the door, the sound of voices baying for blood, her blood as well as Joe’s, and all because of the girl sitting opposite her.
