by Gloria Cook
Even if she told him, he wouldn’t understand, so she said nothing and hoped her dream of a farm nearby would materialize soon. ‘You’ll all be off to Roskerne in a few days. Is Mark Fuller going with you?’
‘Yes. He says he’s looking forward to roaming the beach with Addi.’
‘I hear Susan and her little girl are joining you this time. It will be nice for them. Can’t recall them leaving the village, even for a Sunday School tea treat.’
Faye got an unwelcome picture of Mark inviting Susan and Maureen for a walk along the little beach below the cliffs at Roskerne. ‘Pretty, isn’t it?’ she indicated the doll Lottie was admiring. ‘Susan made the body from a hanky and stuffed it with duck down. She’s clever like that. You’re not likely to find what you’re looking for close to home, Lottie. When you think about the size of a local farm, well, Nate’s used to vast prairie land. For even a small acreage the size of his ranch, you’ll have to look up country.’
‘There’s no question of that,’ Lottie said stiffly.
Faye looked at her. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Of course,’ Lottie forced a smile. She was making every effort to show she was as happily married as the other two couples at the farm. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache. Susan must be a great asset to you. Every time you want a new outfit you can turn to her for her seamstress skills. I’ll get her to run up the curtains for my new home. Is she here, or coming along when the children are let out of their classes and the sale begins?’
‘Aunt Em’s put her on tea duty with Mrs Frayne.’
Lottie put some Hershey bars on the stall, taken from Nate’s delivery. ‘Mark won’t be showing his face, I don’t suppose? How is he these days?’
‘Getting stronger every day,’ Faye said proudly. Mark spent so much time outside his skin was a healthy tan, and some of the people who had seen him had complimented her for nursing him towards fitness. ‘Renovating Rose Dew is doing him a power of good. Jim drops supplies off to him. He’d be there from dawn to dusk if I didn’t insist he work for only five to six hours a day. He and Addi are inseparable,’ Faye wittered on. She loved talking about Mark. It made her feel closer to him, that he was hers. ‘I got a terrible fright the day after we brought Addi home. I went into the ancillary room and found Mark lying on the floor beside him. I screamed thinking he had collapsed. Turned out he was worried that Addi would fret in a strange place so he’d crept downstairs during the night to keep him company and had fallen asleep.’ Lottie was gazing at her.
‘What?’
‘You sound very taken with him.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Faye blushed but couldn’t help smiling coyly. ‘He’s just a nice man. He’s not good-looking or anything.’
‘Well, you’re obviously smitten with him. He’s getting divorced, he’s free to cast his eye round.’ Lottie patted her cousin’s arm. ‘And you’re hoping it will fall on you. I hope it does. It’s time you found someone, Faye.’
‘Mark doesn’t show me any interest in that way,’ Faye admitted sadly.
‘He will, he must still have a lot of adjusting to do, but when he’s ready he’s bound to look no further than you,’ Lottie said confidently.
‘How can you be sure?’ Faye burned with hope. Being in love for the first time was a painful, almost annoying experience, watching jealously in case Mark was drawn to Susan. It wasn’t at all like the wonderful event she’d hoped it would be in her girlhood years. It was an agony fearing the man of her choice would never feel the same way.
‘Easy, you’ve got so much going for you. You’re beautiful, you have a great figure, you’re kind and caring. Mark must find Simon adorable. He doesn’t venture far, so there’s no one else around for him to take a fancy to.’ Lottie sensed Faye growing taut and saw that her eyes were on someone coming round with a tray of teas. Ah, Susan Dowling, the attractive young widow. Susan didn’t have money, flair in clothes, or the sophistication that was natural in Faye. She was quiet, restrained and rather boring, but she had an unconscious beguiling way about her, an innocence that must charm men.
Susan reached the other side of the stall. ‘Here you are, ladies. Mrs Frayne thought the helpers deserved a cuppa.’
‘Thanks.’ Lottie took two white cups and saucers off the tray. She tested the waters. ‘Faye’s been telling me about Mr Fuller’s efforts at Rose Dew. You must be pleased to have someone sorting out that creepy old place, Mrs Dowling.’
‘It is a relief, Mrs Harmon,’ Susan replied. ‘He’s convinced, though, that the place isn’t creepy.’
‘You’ll be pleased when someone’s living there, I daresay. Won’t be so lonely for you then,’ Lottie went on.
‘I suppose not. If you’ll excuse me, I must take round the rest of these before they get cold,’ Susan said.
‘Oh, there’s Uncle Tris,’ Faye suddenly blurted out. ‘Could you offer him a cup, Susan, please? I don’t expect he’d have had time for a drink before coming here.’
‘Of course,’ Susan replied, withdrawing.
As Lottie had expected, Susan didn’t seem attracted to Mark Fuller. She was surprised by something else. ‘Uncle Tris doesn’t usually come to an event held in the afternoon. It’ll be mothers and old people mostly.’ She received a tin jack-in-the-box from a pupil’s mother for the stall, who gave Faye a stiff look before going away. Lottie glared at the woman, hating it when someone was obviously making a moral judgment on Faye.
Faye hadn’t noticed. She kept her eyes on Susan and her uncle. Good, they were engaged in friendly conversation. ‘Well, this is more important than most occasions. He’s concerned about the children’s welfare. A new boiler and radiators doesn’t come cheaply.’
‘Good old Uncle Tris. You’ll be looking for a tenant when Mark’s finished with Rose Dew. You never know, he might like to live in it himself.’
‘What?’ This was a good and a bad idea to Faye. If Mark lived in Rose Dew it would mean him staying in Hennaford, but he’d be in close proximity to Susan every day. ‘I think I’ll have a word with him. Lottie, do you really think I stand a chance with Mark?’
‘Of course you do. If you want him go after him, Faye. Use all the resources you can.’
‘I’m already doing that,’ Faye said, grateful to have the encouragement. She would continue to do what she could to push Susan and her uncle together. She had suggested to him that he take the children to the pictures, something he did regularly, and that Maureen shouldn’t be left out. That if he felt four children rather a lot of responsibility, then perhaps Susan might consider going along too, to enjoy the treat. He’d replied immediately it was a good idea. The more she thought about it the more she considered an alliance between them not to be a bad thing. It would be doing Susan a favour, a secure future for her and her daughter with one of the kindest men on earth, and her uncle would not sink into an undeserved lonely old age. How everyone would fit into Tremore House was another matter, and one not to worry about for now.
Harriet Frayne, the headmaster’s wife, and Elena Killigrew came to them with the float. ‘Well, isn’t this nice?’ Harriet Frayne, thick of body, neck and ankles, cooed to the boys. ‘We only need Mrs Jill Harvey to produce and we’ll have the full compliment. I’m sorry you’re planning to leave us, Lottie. Mr Frayne will be retiring soon but he’d like to have thought there would be little Harmons running in and out of the school gates. I’m so pleased you’re reunited with your husband.’
Faye was aware the woman’s interest wasn’t quite so approving when she viewed Simon. There was an edge of sanctimony about it, as if Simon didn’t quite qualify for the same consideration. She had not attended the village school but had started off her education privately in Truro, but she had known Mrs Frayne to be a rosy-hearted woman who cared in a motherly way for her husband’s pupils. It was a shame that this didn’t extend to children like Simon, but Faye supposed she must understand old-fashioned ideals. It still hurt, though. Faye felt something new and it filled her with
an aching guilt. She was letting Simon down. She should have lied and said she was a widow for his sake. He was likely to be ostracized wherever he went because of what she had thought to be a brave decision.
Harriet Frayne noticed her hard frown and had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘Um, I hear your guest is doing very well, Miss Faye. Little Pearl and the twins talk about him a lot. You and your uncle must be so pleased.’
‘We are,’ Faye replied as if in challenge, daring her to ask personal questions about Mark. There was tittle-tattle going round the village about his impending divorce. No one blamed him – as usual, it was the woman’s fault for domestic failures, and Justine had been called some insulting names. Faye had explained to one or two people that he and Justine had just drifted apart but that had not altered anyone’s opinion. Marriage was for life as far as the majority of the inhabitants of Hennaford were concerned, to work at, to make compromises, and if that failed to endure until death.
Lottie sighed impatiently. There were loose women in the world, home wreckers and the like, but Faye wasn’t like that. She had made a mistake, or rather the older man whose charms she had fallen under had. The Scottish laird should have behaved more responsibly. And Justine Fuller was bravely facing the fact that it was better to end her marriage than to hang on to something that would only give her and Mark years of futile unhappiness, bringing them both down.
There was a prickly silence. Elena Killigrew, eternally good-natured and always the peacemaker, coughed to politely intrude, and was about to say something to make the conversation commonplace but suddenly she groaned and put a hand to her head. Her hands shot out to grab the stall. ‘Oh, dear…’
‘What is it, Mrs Killigrew?’ Faye came round the table to her. ‘Do you feel ill?’
‘Actually, I do a little,’ Elena said breathlessly. She always understated a dilemma of her own. Her head was whirling and she thought the playground was coming up to meet her.
‘You need a chair.’ Lottie signalled to her mother and Emilia hastened to them with one that was of canvas and iron-framed. Elena sat down gratefully, lily-pale and trembling, and Emilia took charge. ‘Could someone fetch some water?’
‘I’ll bring some from the house.’ Mrs Frayne hurried off.
Emilia did the usual things like feeling Elena’s brow and rubbing her wrists, while shielding her from view of curious onlookers. ‘You’ve been overdoing it, Elena,’ she said gently. ‘Always dashing about, running yourself ragged for good causes.’
‘It isn’t that.’ Elena’s cheeks were blazing. She whispered for Emilia’s ear only, ‘I think I’m having the… I mean to say, I must be on “the change”.’ I haven’t had a monthly for ages. Jim’s noticed I’m often queasy and hot and a bit bothered. I don’t feel weak or anything. I’m eating well. In fact, as you can see, I’m putting on weight.’
Emilia gazed into Elena’s flushed face for some moments then down at her body. ‘There could be another reason for your symptoms.’
‘What do you mean?’ Elena was panicked, her mind going off to cancer or some other deadly disease. She was a deeply religious woman and sure of an afterlife in heaven, but she didn’t want to leave the husband she loved so much and their two adopted teenaged children. She was only forty-six. She had years yet of serving the Lord, if He allowed it.
‘Would you mind…?’ Emilia placed a hand over Elena’s expanding tummy. A tense moment passed for Elena. ‘I thought as much. Put your hand where mine is.’
After a nervous glance up at Emilia, and receiving a persuasive nod, she did so reluctantly.
‘Feel it? That little movement?’ Elena smiled.
‘Yes, it’s wind.’
‘I don’t think it is. Elena, I’ve been wondering about it and now I’m absolutely sure. You’re having a baby. Congratulations.’
‘What?’ It was some moments before the news sank in, then Elena’s modest, dear features broke into a magnificent smile ‘After all these years? Fifteen years!’ For the first time ever she was shouting in excitement, while being consumed with raptures. ‘I can’t believe it. Oh… we never thought it would happen. I must see Jim at once. He’ll be so delighted. After all our hopes and prayers. He’s at your house with Alan working on Tom’s refurbishments. You will excuse me, won’t you?’ Elena was up on her feet, hands clasped, hopping about like an excited child, all feelings of sickness gone. People came running to hear what was her joy. There was an outbreak of applause.
‘Of course you must go to Jim.’ Emilia gave her friend a swift hug. ‘And you mustn’t bother coming back. Make sure you spend the afternoon with him.’
Harriet Frayne flapped back into the playground on her heavy feet, a glass of water held importantly in her hand. Elena faced the crowd, aglow, on air, unaccustomedly vivacious and demonstrative. She flung her hands out wide. ‘I don’t need that, Mrs Frayne. Did you hear? I’m having a baby!’
The rest of the setting-up was done in good spirits and noisy chatter. Faye saw that one person wasn’t joining in. Lottie was totally uninterested in Elena’s sudden good news, and even seemed edgy. ‘Aren’t you glad for her? She’s got Alan and Martha but it must have been awful hoping for a child of her own and failing over the years.’
‘Of course, I am. I was thinking that a baby at her age isn’t a good idea. It might be slow or have a condition.’
‘I can’t see Elena and Jim minding that too much. They’d still see it as a blessing.’ She leaned away from the stall and dropped a kiss on Simon’s dark head. He beamed a chubby happy smile up at her, their love for each other shining through. ‘Every child is.’
Lottie sighed, and Faye probed no more. Her cousin was hard to understand at times. Now that Nate had joined her she had everything a young woman could want. Her son had not been produced ‘under the blanket’ as Simon was. Soon, she would have her own lovely, prospering home. She had no idea that Lottie was scared.
Again, Lottie counted up the weeks. She was four months late and there could be no doubt that she was pregnant. Throughout her life she had been strong and bold, had laughed at warnings to do things carefully, to avoid risks, but now she was frightened to the point of panic at the thought of giving birth again. Why? It was silly. She’d pushed Carl out of her body and although it had been quite dreadful, she had survived with no ill effects. Her mother and the midwife had said the first labour and birth was the worst. That it would be easier next time. So in a few months she should deliver this new baby like shelling peas. It was how she must think about it. And she ought to tell Nate. He’d be as thrilled as Jim Killigrew was going to be about his child.
She felt a cold shivery clamminess, like walking into a thousand spider webs, like sensing there was a ghost beside her. She must ignore it. Remember she wasn’t the type to be easily frightened. Think of first things first. Find her new home and forget this baby for a while. Concentrate on moving into the perfect place with Nate and relish all the new experiences it would bring, delight in her own kitchen and sitting room, her own curtains and linen, her own dairy and hens. She’d be bigger in the pregnancy then and it wouldn’t be so bad. When the birth was closer she wouldn’t be so scared. When she got huge and cumbersome, and if her ankles swelled up and she could hardly walk she’d be glad when the birth pangs started and it would soon be over. Then she’d go secretly to another doctor and get herself fixed up so she’d never have to go through this hell again. She’d have it all, Nate, a home, and two children. Life would be perfect then.
The children filed out of the three classes an hour before the usual time they went home. The Smiths were delighted to see their Uncle Tristan, calculating how many pennies they could wheedle out of him to spend at the stalls. The twins shot off with sixpence each – it would do for now, leaving Pearl to tag along holding their uncle’s hand, and to Tristan’s pleasure, Maureen stayed with them too. He suggested a tea for himself and lemonade for the girls. Susan would serve them, hopefully.
Faye was happy about the li
ttle group too. The afternoon went well, but there were comments about it not being the same without Elena Killigrew buzzing about to ensure everyone was content and all was in line. It gave her an idea. She approached Mr Frayne. The headmaster was a little man in a three-piece tweed suit, a heavy watch chain, and thinning grey hair. With his hands behind his back, he was hovering about as if the central figure. For the richer parents of his pupils he wore an ingratiating smile. ‘Good of you to help out, Miss Harvey,’ he said, bobbing up and down in his brogues.
Faye got the impression he wanted to edge away from her. ‘I’m delighted to, Mr Frayne. I was about to confer with my aunt about an idea I’ve had to raise more funds for the heating, but I thought I’d consult you first. It’s occurred to me that Mrs Killigrew’s expected happy event is going to mean, at least for a while, that she won’t have as much free time to organize such things. I thought I could hold a coffee morning at Tremore House. Anything left unsold today could go towards another Bring and Buy at the same time.’
Mr Frayne dragged down his lower lip with a ponderous hand. ‘Well, it’s very kind of you, but I think we’ve got enough events coming up, actually.’
‘But one more wouldn’t hurt, even if it only raised a pound or two.’ There would be no shortage of people attending. They would come out of curiosity to see inside her house – her father had never held anything there but dinners for family or business associates. They would come hoping to see Mark. There could be only one reason the headmaster was raising an objection. The fact she wasn’t married. She was considered unsuitable. She would set a bad example.
‘Well, you see… ’ Mr Frayne’s terrier-dog face deepened a burning red, but there was a chilliness about him too. It was obvious he was uncomfortable, and displeased to feel he had been put in an awkward situation.
‘I see, Mr Frayne.’ Faye’s voice was grim but did not give away that she was blazing mad. ‘I see very well. Excuse me.’
She walked away with her head held high to show he couldn’t put her down, her mind a mill of recriminations against all those who had humiliated or hurt her. Her father might have come to realize he’d loved her, but at the start of her life he had not wanted her. He’d wanted a son. His selfish conduct had led to her mother leaving him. Understandable, but Brooke Harvey had not accounted for the tremendous wrench it had been to Faye to be taken away from all she knew to the other side of the world. Brooke had accused Faye of being a difficult child – was it any wonder? When Faye had begged to be allowed to train for the ballet in London, Brooke had let her go, too blind to see it as a ruse to get Brooke to beg her to stay.
