The Oyster Catchers

by Iris Gower

  ‘But where would I live if I sell the boarding house?’ Mrs Marsh asked helplessly. ‘I don’t want to leave the village and I owe such a lot to the bank I won’t be able to afford much.’ It seemed as though the decline in the oyster industry had already caused more misery than Eline had imagined.

  ‘What about the cottage Nina Parks used to rent?’ Eline suggested. ‘I believe it’s still empty. You would still be living in the village and your expenses would be so much less.’

  ‘But then there’s Mr Davies, I can’t throw him out into the street, can I? He’s been with me a long time now, a fine young man he is, too.’ It was Mrs Marsh’s last protest and Eline recognized that with a small dart of satisfaction.

  ‘I will talk to Mr Davies and I won’t just turn him out into the street, you can be sure of that,’ she said, her heart beating uncomfortably fast.

  ‘Right then, that settles it.’ Mrs Marsh leaned back in her chair, the lines of worry easing out of her forehead. ‘Mrs Harries, you have my word on it that the boarding house is yours.’

  As Eline walked out into the street, she felt a strange mixture of feelings; she was on her way, she had taken the first steps towards owning her gallery and yet now there was the problem of facing Will. She stood in the street and looked up at the tall, elegant building set on three floors. There would be ample room for a discreet gallery on the ground and first floors and the top floor could be her living space.

  The attic with its excellent light and the view of the beach would be her work room where she would paint her pictures. A cold hand touched her; she supposed the commissions would come in, but what if they didn’t?

  And what would she say to William? He could hardly stay in the boarding house, he would certainly object to sharing his living accommodation with the public and in any case they both couldn’t live in the same building.

  Perhaps the obstacles were too formidable. Was she reaching for the unobtainable, carried away by foolish dreams that had no foundation in reality?

  Tea rooms – her mind leapt forward again, revelling in the project, unable to let it go. The kitchen and scullery at the back of the house could easily be turned into a tea room especially if she extended them into the small back garden. You see? she told herself, it will work, it has to work.

  It was more difficult than Eline had anticipated to sell the boat and it was only with the help of Mr Frogmore that at last the Emmeline was bought by a sailor from Bristol. Eline recognized that it was the end of an era, her life as the wife of an oyster fisherman was over and a new phase was beginning.

  After that, the purchase of the boarding house moved ahead so swiftly that Eline scarcely had time to think. She sometimes felt a dart of panic that she was chancing too much, far too soon. She had taken on a lot of debt in order to buy the house, but she felt with the commissions that were in the pipeline and the money from the sale of the cuff boot, she could easily meet her commitments.

  She was sitting in her office, working on the design for a cuff bag to go with the boots and gloves, thinking how wise Hari had been to urge her to keep up her design work, when the door opened and a tall figure stood blocking out the light.

  ‘Good morning,’ Eline said formally, trying to see through the gloom.

  The man came forward and with a small shock, Eline recognized William. Instinctively she rose to her feet, disturbed at the anger in his face.

  ‘I kept away from you, fool that I was, I believed you needed time to mourn.’ Will’s voice was bitter. ‘Instead, you were busy planning your future, buying the boarding house from Mrs Marsh without even bothering to talk to me. But then why should you worry if you were putting me out on to the street? Clearly you’ve never given a damn about me.’ His tone was heavy with sarcasm.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Eline said, her mouth dry. ‘I meant to talk to you about it.’

  ‘How very kind of you! Did you think the blow of losing my home would be any the less if you broke the news to me?’ He spoke abruptly. ‘It seems to me you have always been intent on doing just what you wanted to do.’

  ‘That’s not true!’ Eline protested, her thoughts racing. ‘I just didn’t think you …’

  ‘No, you didn’t think at all,’ he said. ‘Well, you needn’t worry about me, I shall move out as soon as I can, I won’t inconvenience you or stand in the way of any of your precious plans.’

  ‘Get out!’ Eline said harshly but he had already turned away and was striding through the door, his shoulders taut with anger.

  Eline collapsed into her seat, her designs forgotten as she put her head in her hands. It seemed she was doomed to disappoint everyone for whom she cared. She suddenly felt tears well up in her throat, she was struggling to succeed and what for? Was the price of success a lifetime of loneliness?

  Emily sat opposite her step-daughter and stared at Sarah with cautious eyes. ‘What is it you want?’ she asked guardedly.

  ‘I can’t stand this awful marriage,’ Sarah said truculently. ‘Geoffrey is an unfeeling monster, I can’t live with him, he cares more about that man Chas than he does about my welfare.’ Her face was downcast, a tear trembled on her lashes, she looked like a small child about to have a tantrum.

  Emily sighed. Sarah as always was inclined to exaggerate everything, she revelled in airing what she saw as her problems.

  ‘Is your husband violent?’ Emily asked as gently as she could. Sarah shook her head.

  ‘No, but he’s not interested in me, he’s more interested in his precious friend!’

  How absurdly jealous and petty, Emily thought, but she contained her impatience. ‘I’m sure he’s just like most men, dear,’ she said, ‘men can be thoughtless at times and Geoffrey has been used to a bachelor life, adjustments have to be made on both sides. Have you spoken to him, asked him what he wants?’

  ‘He only wants a son,’ Sarah said, her lip thrust out mutinously. Emily leaned back in her chair. ‘Is that so unreasonable?’ she asked. ‘After all most men would like a son.’

  Her words were touched with a ruefulness that was lost on Sarah, John would love nothing more than to have a son, but Emily simply could not give him one. Instead, she and John loved Pammy to distraction and sometimes Emily could almost believe Pammy was her own child and not Sarah’s illegitimate daughter.

  Emily was always uneasy when Sarah was in her house, she felt threatened by her as if at any moment, Sarah might change her mind and snatch the little girl away from Emily. That was one overriding reason for trying to keep Sarah’s marriage intact.

  ‘Look what Geoffrey has given you,’ she said persuasively, ‘that wonderful Kilver House, a fine carriage, everything your heart could desire.’

  ‘Everything but a healthy vigorous man in my bed!’ Sarah burst out.

  Emily concealed her disgust. Didn’t Sarah ever think about anything but her own gratification? ‘It will come, give Geoffrey time,’ she urged. ‘These things can’t be rushed. He has,’ she paused, ‘he has come to your bed, hasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sarah pouted, ‘and I hate it whenever he touches me.’

  ‘As I said,’ Emily repeated, ‘these things take time, be patient, Sarah.’

  Sarah rose from her chair in a swift angry movement. ‘You don’t understand,’ she said, her words clipped and furious.

  Emily was about to reply when Sarah swayed towards her, her face suddenly white.

  ‘What is it?’ Emily took her arm and led her to a seat. ‘You look so pale, Sarah, are you falling sick with something? Sit still, I’ll have the doctor fetched at once.’

  The doctor arrived within the hour and was closeted with Sarah for less than five minutes. Anxiously, Emily looked up at him and he smiled as he put on his hat.

  ‘She’ll live,’ he said bluntly. ‘Don’t look so worried, Mrs Miller, go in and see her.

  Sarah had regained her colour and indeed, she looked quite radiant.

  ‘You all right, Sarah?’ Emily asked anxiously and Sarah’s eyes were
suddenly triumphant.

  ‘I’m going to have a child,’ she said. ‘Send someone for Geoffrey to bring me home.’

  ‘You are going home to him?’ Emily asked bewildered at the turn-round in Sarah’s attitude.

  ‘Of course I am,’ Sarah said, smiling for the first time since she’d entered the house. ‘This changes everything, Geoffrey will be in my power now. Once I give him a son I will be able to twist him round my little finger.’ She sighed contentedly. ‘I know how much a son means to him, and to his father; I shall have them both in the palm of my hand.’

  Emily rose and pulled the silken-tasselled cord to summon the maid. ‘Where is Geoffrey now? Where shall I send a message for him?’ she asked.

  Sarah looked at her. ‘He’ll be at his club, no doubt, along with his dear friend. Tell him he must come at once.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Emily sounded surprised. Sarah nodded emphatically. ‘Of course I’m sure, this changes everything.’

  Emily’s thoughts were racing as she gave the maid her instructions. ‘Send Coland to the gentleman’s club in Wind Street,’ she said, ‘tell the footman that Mr Geoffrey Frogmore should come at his earliest convenience to fetch Mrs Frogmore and hurry!’

  Emily sighed as the maid left the room; if only Sarah would remain content now that she was having Geoffrey’s child. Hopefully it would be a son then all would be well and Pammy would be safe once more.

  When Sarah was alone with her husband in the plush drawing room of Kilver House, she seated herself in the large armchair and looked up at him triumphantly.

  ‘Well, Geoffrey, are you pleased with me?’ she asked smugly. He allowed himself a smile.

  ‘It remains to be seen if you have got me an heir,’ he said slowly. ‘I hope so for both our sakes.’

  Sarah felt her spirits fall sharply; this was not going to be as easy as she’d thought.

  ‘I’d like you to remove your, your friend from our house,’ she said almost pleadingly and saw her husband frown with annoyance. ‘I don’t think it would be right for our son to grow up in a house that was divided, so to speak,’ she added lamely.

  Geoffrey nodded slowly. ‘You may be right, Sarah, perhaps it would not be wise to influence unduly a young boy in any way.’ He squared his shoulders. ‘But as I said, it’s early days yet, we shall have to see how you do as a mother, won’t we?’

  He smiled. ‘At least tonight, when my father comes to dinner I shall have good news for him.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Sarah’s voice had an edge to it, ‘your father will be pleased all right and rather relieved, I should imagine, to know that you are going to have a child. He must have doubted that the day would ever come.’

  ‘Don’t be clever,’ Geoffrey said evenly. ‘It does you no good to scoff at things you do not understand.’

  ‘But you will give him up, your friend,’ Sarah refused to acknowledge the man by name, ‘once the child is born, I mean.’

  ‘Give Chas up, no,’ Geoffrey said flatly. ‘Removing him from our house, that I shall consider, certainly.’

  Sarah rose from her chair. ‘I shall take a rest before dinner,’ she said quietly, knowing that she had won all the concessions she could for the time being.

  She remained in her room, hearing masculine voices from downstairs, and knew that Geoffrey was talking to that awful man, no doubt telling him the news about the child. Well, perhaps now life wouldn’t be so bad, Geoffrey would visit the man somewhere other than under her roof and at least he would no longer come to her bed. It was a wonder, she thought angrily, that she had conceived a child at all under the circumstances.

  She dressed carefully for dinner, knowing that old Mr Frogmore would be generous in his gratitude to her for providing an heir. She rested her hands on her stomach. ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘let it be a son.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Emily felt free at last. She hugged the little girl she’d come to think of as her own and stared down at her lovingly. ‘My darling Pammy, I pray your mother will never want to take you away, not now she is with child again.’

  Emily felt better now that the midwife had seen Sarah and confirmed her pregnancy; sometimes the greatly experienced nurses knew more than the doctors about such matters. Sarah was never going to be happy with her lot but at least she had found what she seemed to want, a good marriage to a rich man. Perhaps love would come but somehow, Emily doubted it.

  Emily heard the doorbell ring followed by the sound of voices in the hallway and, with a sinking heart, she recognized the high, almost petulant, pitch of Sarah’s voice.

  Emily left Pammy to the ministrations of her nanny and hurried down the stairs, her heart beating uncomfortably fast. What could Sarah possibly want with her this time?

  ‘Sarah,’ she said as warmly as she could, ‘how are you feeling? Come into the drawing room and sit down, we must have some refreshments.’

  ‘I don’t want anything at all, no cordial or tea, it all makes me feel as sick as a dog,’ she said pettishly, almost throwing her coat at the waiting maid.

  She swept through to the drawing room and dropped into a seat. Her waistline was already thickening and her breasts were straining against the confines of her silk bodice.

  ‘You look very well,’ Emily said encouragingly and took a seat on the opposite side of the fireplace, bracing herself to face yet a new demand. It was dreadful of her to think it but Emily knew from experience that the only time she saw Sarah was when she wanted something.

  ‘I’m fed up with being in the house alone,’ Sarah started, ‘Geoffrey is always at his club or out with his friend somewhere or another, he doesn’t consider me at all.’

  Emily smiled soothingly. ‘Sometimes husbands can be like that,’ she replied, trying to remain cheerful although her spirits were sinking even lower for any minute now Sarah would come to the real reason for her visit. She did, quite abruptly.

  ‘You must make the girl your responsibility, legally,’ she said firmly folding her hands over her stomach. ‘Geoffrey insists on it.’ She frowned. ‘His exact words were “I’m not going to be responsible for the upkeep of another man’s by-blow”.’

  Emily felt elation sweep through her though she knew better than to reveal her real feelings; it didn’t do to let Sarah realize how keen she was to make Pammy her own. Sarah didn’t want her child at any price but she could be contrary if she had a mind.

  ‘Go on,’ Emily said as calmly as she could but excitement was rising within her. She had never expected such a gift to fall into her lap. Within a matter of weeks perhaps, Pammy could be hers by law and then Sarah could never take her away.

  ‘I shall have to talk to John, of course, but I don’t see any problem in making our guardianship of Pammy legal.’

  Sarah stared at her, seeing right through her. ‘It’s what you always wanted, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is,’ Emily conceded inclining her head, ‘and I’m very pleased that you want it too.’

  Sarah shrugged. ‘I’ve never been close to the child.’ She patted her stomach. ‘I shan’t be close to this one either, I don’t really want children, but at least Geoffrey can afford the best sort of help for me. With luck I won’t have anything to do with it once it’s born.’

  She sank back in her chair, the main purpose of her visit over. ‘Perhaps I will try some hot black coffee, no sugar, mind.’

  Emily rose at once and pulled the silken cord, then she turned to Sarah.

  ‘I suppose you want all this taken care of right away?’ she said cautiously.

  Sarah nodded emphatically. ‘Aye, the sooner the better, Geoffrey is afraid that another man’s child might somehow benefit from his money, that’s how mean-spirited he is.’

  Emily could well understand how he felt, but she kept her own counsel. ‘I shall send someone to the solicitors with a message this afternoon,’ she said with a calmness she was far from feeling. ‘We’ll set the wheels in motion right away.’

  Even as she sat drin
king coffee with Sarah, Emily forced herself to contain her excitement; she still couldn’t believe the stroke of good fortune that had come her way. Sarah was willing, no, anxious to be rid of her daughter for ever.

  It would have been sad except that Pammy had known no other mother than Emily and now she never would. And John had been a better father than any man could be – after all, the little girl was his own flesh and blood, his grandchild.

  Sarah seemed to cheer up when she’d drunk her coffee. ‘Look,’ she held back her hair and Emily saw that on Sarah’s small ears were gorgeous matching emerald and diamond clips.

  ‘A gift from my father-in-law,’ she said smugly. ‘And better than that, once the boy is born, Mr Frogmore intends to settle some money and lands on him to be held in trust by me.’ She smiled thinly. ‘Geoffrey isn’t too happy with that, but there’s nothing he can do about it, his father is adamant.’

  ‘So you are content then?’ Emily asked delicately. ‘In your marriage, I mean.’

  ‘Aye, as content as I can be,’ Sarah said flatly. ‘Geoffrey isn’t a knight in shining armour, but then what man is?’

  And Sarah had experienced enough of men to know, Emily thought ruefully.

  Later, when Sarah had gone, Emily sat down at her desk and drafted a letter to her solicitor; the sooner Pammy was legally hers, the better.

  The boarding house took very little converting; once the furniture was removed, fresh paint applied to the walls and new carpet laid on the floors, the place appeared entirely different.

  Eline hung a few of her paintings on the wall, the ones she had worked on when she lived at Honey’s Farm, and stood back to admire the effect.

  Standing there, in the slant of light from the large front window, doubt seized her; would anyone really wish to buy her paintings? But then she wouldn’t only sell her own work, she would have some canvases by famous artists, most of them depicting some aspect of the beautiful Welsh coastline.