by Iris Gower
It was a fine, crisp, sunny morning and William Davies left his lodgings with a feeling of energy running through him. He breathed in deeply the salt air and looked out towards Mumbles Head where the sails of a pilot ship billowed like a wedding veil in the soft breeze. And he thought of Eline.
She was never far from his thoughts; he wanted her with every fibre of his being, but he would only be content to have her as his wife.
He turned the corner and his footsteps faltered to a halt. The salty wind ruffled his hair but he no longer felt its balmy touch, his attention was focused on the front of his shop.
He moved forward in dismay to see the windows smashed, the boots and shoes covered with what appeared to be white-lime and he knew at once who was to blame.
‘Bastard!’ he said through clenched teeth as he moved forward and pushed open the door that was hanging on its hinges.
‘Duw, Mr Davies, what’s happened here?’ Gwyneth Parks was standing in the doorway behind him staring round her in horror, her hands to her cheeks, her eyes wide.
In the centre of the shop was a mound of boots and shoes still smouldering, the smell of burnt leather permeating the shop.
Will clenched his teeth in anger; only one man hated him enough to try to destroy his stock. ‘Joe Harries,’ he said. ‘I’m going round there to see him and have this out right now.’
Gwyneth caught his arm. ‘Don’t be hasty, Mr Davies, begging your pardon, sir, but you got no proof.’ She sighed. ‘My mam is besotted by Joe, she’ll swear he was there with her all the time even if he wasn’t.’
Will took a few deep breaths and then nodded. ‘You’re right, Gwyneth, but I can’t let him get away with it.’ He rubbed his fingers through his hair in an angry gesture.
Gwyneth was rolling up her sleeves. ‘I know what I’m going to do, get this mess cleaned up, that’s the first thing.’ She seemed to have taken charge. ‘You get the constable, Mr Davies, let him see what’s happened here and that will be a start.’
Will looked at her gratefully. ‘You’re a gem, Gwyneth,’ he said warmly, ‘I’ll be back soon and then we’ll both get to work on the shop. We’ll clean up the mess even if it takes us all day and all night, right?’
As he left the shop, Gwyneth watched him and around her mouth there was a self-satisfied smile; she was getting on the right side of Mr Davies and that is just where she wanted to be.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Joe sat with his head in his hands not hearing the mournful sound of a tug edging shorewards in the direction of the docks or the lonely cry of the seagulls overhead. Sitting on the top of Mumbles Head, the mist swirling around him virtually concealing him from anyone on the beach, Joe felt suitably isolated, he wanted to be alone with his misery.
It seemed to Joe that he had exchanged the harmony and joy of his life with Eline for one of discord and worry with Nina. He felt the pain of his loss very deeply, he wanted Eline, longed for her virginal ways, even her lack of enthusiasm in the marriage bed seemed desirable after a surfeit of Nina’s overt sexuality.
He was also ashamed, ashamed of his attack on William Davies’s shop, what had his hour of wanton destruction achieved? He had come away from the ruined store without even feeling self-satisfied.
He had heard the rumours, they had stirred up his anger, but, even as he heard that Eline had been seen leaving Davies’s lodgings in the early hours of the morning, he knew Eline would never be unfaithful to him; it simply wasn’t in her nature.
He thumped his fist into his hands, he wanted to hate Will Davies for his interference and yet he didn’t. In some strange way he was grateful to the man for looking after Eline, for finding her honest work.
Joe knew he had no one to blame but himself for the mess he was in. Nina, safely ensconced in his house, was growing fatter by the day, the sound of her feet slopping about the floor irritated Joe and he missed the light, swift footsteps of his wife.
‘Eline,’ he whispered into his hands, ‘Eline, my child bride, my love.’ He groaned inwardly, he could not see any way out of the situation he was in; he had taken home another woman, pregnant by him, how could any wife be expected to stand for that?
He rose to his feet and stared down at the misty sea, rushing against the rocks below; he only had to move forward, lean out over the abyss and it would be over, he would be at peace.
‘Joe!’ The voice called to him frantically and looking over his shoulder, he saw that the fog had lifted somewhat. ‘Joe, come home, Mam needs you.’
Gwyneth was white-faced and Joe knew that something was badly wrong. He hurried back down the hillside, his feet slipping on the muddy surface and when he gained the roadway, he caught Gwyneth’s arm.
‘What’s wrong? What is it, is Nina sick?’ He frowned, knowing that he wanted Nina well and strong, he still loved her in some strange part of his being.
‘It’s Tom, his ship is drifting off Port Eynon, in danger of going on the rocks. Mam’s in a terrible state, upsetting herself and threatening to take the horse and cart down the coast on her own.’
‘Damn and blast!’ Joe gave vent to his pent-up frustration; would things ever get better or would they go on getting worse and worse?
Nina was in the kitchen, her face red with crying, her eyes swollen. Joe knelt beside her and took her hands in his.
‘Now what’s happening? How do you know that it’s Tom’s ship off the rocks at Port Eynon?’
‘Skipper George was down there this morning, he just got back an hour ago, he came to see you, Joe, but as you wasn’t here, he had to tell me that Tom’s ship, The Red Dragon, was coming in and that there was danger of her going on to the rocks.’ She grasped his hands. ‘You will take me there, won’t you, Joe?’
He felt guilt sear him; there he’d been feeling sorry for himself, wallowing in self-pity, blaming Nina for what, after all, was his own fault and her wanting his support so badly. Was he any use to anyone?
‘Aye, I’ll take you, girl,’ he said. ‘You wrap yourself up good and warm and I’ll get the horse and cart from Carys next door.’
Half an hour later, he was driving over the common land towards Port Eynon, a silent Nina beside him, her face drawn and white. The wind seemed to increase in strength the further over the common land he drove and Joe bit his lip; the waters round Port Eynon were studded with rocks and more than one ship had floundered there.
He felt the pull of paternal love for Tom was his child, flesh of his flesh, perhaps the only son he would ever have and he wanted him safe.
Joe was well aware of Tom’s anger and even his hate, the boy had felt his mother was betrayed, but surely now that Tom could see Joe was doing right by her all would be forgiven?
It was as though Nina read his thoughts. She put her hand on his shoulder, leaning against him and somehow her warm nearness was comforting.
‘He respects you, really, mind,’ she said softly. ‘I know Tom was bitter and angry, but he’ll get over it and remember, Joe, there are quarrels in every family, but it doesn’t drive them apart for long, not if they really love each other, it don’t.’
The hill down to Port Eynon was steep and the horse slipped a little on the rutted surface. Joe climbed down and led the animal carefully forward.
The sweep of the bay came into sight and the thunder of the waves seemed to hit Joe along with the rushing of the wind; conditions really were bad, he realized with a sinking heart.
The beach was crowded with people and Joe led Nina to the shelter of the ruined salt house. ‘The lifeboat is out there,’ Joe said. ‘Stay by here, Nina, I’ll go and see if there’s been anyone brought ashore.’
He made his way along the broad beach and grit stung his face as the wind whipped up the sand in spiteful gusts. He put his hand above his eyes and stared out to sea and could just make out the stern of the ship as she dipped into a trough of waves.
‘Any men been brought off yet?’ Joe asked one of the fishermen who lined the beach waiting to help survivors
ashore. The man shook his head.
‘The lifeboat can’t get near her, she’s bucking like a frightened mule; my bet is her cargo’s shifted and she’s off balance.’
The men stood in silence, watching helplessly and Joe looked up at the sky aware that it was growing darker. He could hardly leave Nina sitting in the salt house for what might be hours.
‘Any rooms to let round here?’ he asked and when the fisherman looked at him in surprise he felt some explanation was necessary. ‘Got my wife with me, she insisted on coming because our son’s on board.’ He made a rueful face. ‘My wife is with child again so I have to look after her.’
The man grinned. ‘Looked after her well enough if you ask me!’ he said and Joe warmed to the grudging admiration in the fisherman’s face. ‘Up by there,’ he jerked his thumb, ‘Mrs Adams, the house behind the Ship Inn, she’ll give you a room.’
‘Thanks,’ Joe said and, as he made his way back across the sand to where Nina was waiting, he squared his shoulders, he had new responsibilities now, there must be no more self-pity, no more time wasted on crying for the moon. He must face up to life like the mature man he was.
* * *
It was quiet in the shop, almost closing-time, when Eline packed away her pins and pieces of paper and looked round at the latest window display, hoping that Mrs Miller would be pleased with her efforts. Eline sighed, she was enjoying spending her time moving between Mrs Miller’s emporium and Hari Grenfell’s home where she was being taught so many new and interesting things. And yet there were so many loose ends to her life and she could see no way of resolving them.
Outside, the wind howled around the corners sending papers flying and forcing ladies to hold on to their bonnets. It was more like winter than late summer, Eline thought sadly.
Soon it would be September, the oyster season would begin again and the men would go to sea in the skiffs and make their living in the way they loved best. For a moment, nostalgia flooded over her, she wondered how Carys Morgan was feeling, her time must be near, soon she would be a mother, her greatest dream fulfilled and Eline would not be there to rejoice with her.
Still, Joe had made his decision, he had chosen Nina Parks and though Eline still felt slighted and somehow cheapened by his act in bringing his mistress home, she knew that most of all she was relieved to be out of a situation that had daily become more intolerable.
She made her way upstairs to the living quarters above the emporium knowing that she was privileged to have the freedom that was denied to the other shop assistants. But then she was no longer classed as a shop assistant, Mrs Miller had made that quite plain. Eline had been given her own suite of rooms with a private sitting room where she could work on designs to her heart’s delight.
Eline liked living the way she did now, private and yet not alone. She enjoyed window dressing as much as ever, but the part of her job she enjoyed most was the days she spent with Hari Grenfell over at Summer Lodge. And then, of course, there was Will.
Eline sank into a chair and looked down at her dusty hands without seeing them. Will Davies loved her, she was sure of it, though he never spoke of it. How could he when she was still a married woman? That she loved him, she could not doubt; she longed for him, had an urgent need to be in his arms but more than that, she wanted him near her always.
She bowed her head in pain as she tried to picture the face of her husband. Joe, who had loved her all his life, had taken care of her, made her his wife, and now she could not recall his face or his touch after only a few weeks apart from him.
She rose and stood at the window looking down at the town spread out below, the long streets, the women bustling about their business, skirts awry, tugged by the ever-strengthening wind.
She thought of the oyster boats and was glad that they were laid up in the pool for the summer, in a gale like this many a man could lose his life as well as his livelihood.
Later, as Eline sat beneath the oil lamp reading a book, she heard a knock on the door and suddenly, she was tinglingly alive.
‘Come in,’ she said softly and was not surprised to see Will enter the room for he visited her often. He sat down opposite her and she saw that his face was troubled.
‘What is it?’ she asked, a small quiver of fear in her voice.
‘It’s the shop,’ he said, ’I’ve had to close it for a few days, a fire has burnt most of my stock.’
Her eyes were wide, questioning. ‘How?’ she asked and yet she knew the answer.
Will shrugged. ‘Who knows?’ he said gently, but Eline got to her feet and faced him, her hands brushing at her skirts nervously.
‘It was Joe, wasn’t it?’ she said flatly. ‘Joe heard the gossip about you and me and this is his revenge.’ She felt a chill sweep over her.
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions,’ Will said. ‘In theory it could have been anyone who had a grudge against me. All I know is that the fire was deliberately set.
‘Sit down,’ he said gently, ‘there’s more news and it doesn’t look good.’
Eline sank into a chair; what more could be wrong? Will shrugged apologetically.
‘It isn’t any of our concern, really, but I thought you’d want to know.’
‘What?’ she asked, her throat tight. ‘Tell me, Will, I might as well know everything.’
‘It’s Joe, he’s taken Mrs Parks down to Port Eynon, the ship, The Red Dragon, is running aground there and it seems that Tom Parks may be on board.’
Eline bit her lip. ‘Joe, he wouldn’t do anything silly, would he, like trying to rescue Tom by putting out to sea himself?’
‘I should think the lifeboat will have everything under control,’ Will said reassuringly. ‘It’s just that it’s all over the village, you were bound to hear about it sooner or later and I wanted to be the one to tell you.’
Eline sighed and looked away quickly as her eyes met Will’s and she saw the desire in the way his pupils darkened.
‘Thanks for coming,’ she said stiffly, wanting to fall into his arms. ‘I must go to Oystermouth, see if there’s anything I can do.’
‘You’re going back there, tonight?’ Will asked in surprise. ‘But what can you do and where will you stay?’
Eline sighed. ‘I must go home, it still is my home, you know. I must find out if Joe is all right.’ Her words hurt him, she knew by the sudden lines around Will’s mouth, but she must drive a wedge between them somehow, she would not forget her marriage vows and anyway, she cared for Joe, not in the way a woman should care about her husband but she loved him all the same.
‘Very well, let me take you,’ Will said reasonably. ‘I have to go back to my lodgings and it’s just foolish for us to travel separately.’
After a moment, Eline nodded. ‘But would you please tell Mrs Miller I have to take some time off,’ she said. ‘Explain things to her while I pack a small bag.’
Will looked at her in a way that brought tears to her eyes.
‘I’ll be back in just a minute,’ Will said gently.
The cab driver was reluctant to drive the five miles along the coast road with such a gale blowing, but the generous payment Will offered convinced him. It did not prevent him from grumbling, however, especially when spitful darts of rain began to fall.
Inside the cab, Eline was very conscious of Will’s nearness, the scent of soap and spice emanated from him and it was with great effort that she sat in apparent calmness at his side, her hands folded in her lap.
‘Eline …’ Will’s voice was strange in the darkness; she knew instinctively that he was going to make some declaration of his feelings and she couldn’t bear it.
‘No!’ Her voice was surprisingly strong. ‘No, Will,’ she said more gently, ‘don’t say anything.’
She glanced up at him, his profile was lit up briefly by lamplight as the cab drove along the street and he looked somehow lost and alone.
‘If only things were different,’ Eline said softly, ‘but they aren’t. I’m married, I made
my vows to Joe and nothing will ever change that.’
‘I know,’ Will said softly, ‘and I wouldn’t expect anything less of you.’ His hand reached out and covered hers and Eline impulsively curled her fingers in his. They sat thus, unspeaking, fingers entwined for the rest of the journey to Oystermouth and Eline was almost sorry when the cab jolted to a halt outside the small house where Joe had taken her on their marriage.
‘Will you be all right?’ Will asked as he helped her down into the coldness of the street. Over the other side of the road, the beach stretched out darkly, the wind sending the waves booming shoreward. The moon appeared for a moment between the racing clouds and a swath of light was cut across the restless water.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Eline said though her legs felt as though they would not carry her the short distance to her door. She didn’t look back as she let herself into the house and for a moment she stood in the low glow from the dying fire staring around her as though she had never seen the small kitchen with its grey slate floor and sparse furnishings before.
How quickly she had become accustomed to carpets and fine furniture and the ease of a life where there was no sheer grind of scrubbing floors, lighting fires, carrying water or cooking meals to think about.
Eline lit the lamps and then started rebuilding the fire. She stared down at her hands, grimy with coal dust and wondered that only this morning, they had held a pen and made drawings on pristine paper. She sank into a chair and wondered if she could ever become readjusted to this sort of life.
Restlessly, she wondered upstairs and saw that the bed in the spare room was covered in a dust sheet. In the main bedroom, the one she’d shared with Joe, there were signs of Nina Parks’s presence in the softly coloured gown over the chair and the small bunch of flowers dying in a glass vase.
Eline turned her back and retraced her steps until she stood in the kitchen once more. This was no longer her home but Nina Parks’s and pray the good Lord, Eline thought anxiously, she would never have to accept this life again. Suddenly, inexplicably, Eline was weeping.
