‘Thank you, Annie . . . I wouldn’t want it, either.’
There was an awkward silence between them before Perys broke it by saying, ‘I’m sorry to hear about you and Jimmy. Life hasn’t been easy for you over the past few years, has it?’
‘There are many far worse off than me,’ Annie said. ‘Besides, I should be the one asking how you are. Polly says Miss Morwenna told her you’d been through a very bad time.’
Smiling at her, Perys said, ‘I’ll give you exactly the same reply you made to me. There are many far worse off.’
The smile seemed to break the ice between them and they chatted about more general matters, including the present state of farming at Tregassick.
Eventually, Perys said, ‘Martin must be having trouble locating Mr Pencarrow.’
‘If he doesn’t come back in the next few minutes I’ll go and find out what’s happening,’ Annie promised.
She did not have to leave Perys. Martin put in an appearance a few minutes later and explained that he had located Wesley Pencarrow. Unfortunately, the farmer had consumed rather more ale than was good for him. As a result, he was in no fit state to drive Perys home.
‘I’ve got out our trap and harnessed up the pony,’ Martin explained. ‘I’ll drive you to Heligan.’
‘But you’re the guest of honour,’ Perys protested. ‘You can’t go off and leave everybody.’
‘To be quite honest,’ Martin confided, ‘those who haven’t already gone home are getting themselves so drunk I doubt if they can even remember what the party is all about.’
‘What about Wesley Pencarrow? How will he get home?’
‘There’s no problem there,’ Martin declared! ‘We’ll put him in his trap, slap the pony on the rump and it’ll take him home. The publican at Saint Ewe has been doing it for years!’
‘I’ll come with you for the ride,’ Annie said, unexpectedly. ‘I’ve spent all day in the kitchen, I could do with some fresh air.’
On the way to Heligan, much of the talk was of the future, now the war had come to an end. When questioned, Perys told Annie and Martiflf of the reconciliation between himself and his grandfather, saying that he was no longer under pressure to earn a living.
‘What a happy state of affairs,’ said Annie, wistfully. ‘But you deserve it. I hope it will make up for the many unhappy years you had before and during the war.’
‘What would you do if you suddenly came into money, Annie?’ Perys asked.
‘Well. . . first of all I’d give Pa and Ma enough to make sure they wouldn’t lose Tregassick. Then I’d give Martin and Polly the money to buy a farm of their own and raise the family I know Polly dearly wants. Then I’d see that Jimmy never wanted for anything. That might be more difficult because I wouldn’t want Winnie spending it on things she wanted for him.’
‘That’s everybody around you catered for,’ Perys pointed out. ‘How about you? What would you do for yourself?’
After thinking about his question for a while, Annie said, ‘That should be easy enough to answer, Perys - but it isn’t. If everyone around me was happy, I think I would be quite contented.’
She did not disclose that the only thing she would wish for herself would be the power to turn the clock back to 1914. If this was possible she would plan a future for herself that would eliminate the disastrous mistakes she had made during the four years since then.
Annie believed she had replied to Perys’s question without disclosing her very real unhappiness. However, Perys had not missed the fact that she had used the word ‘contented’, and not ‘happy’.
After delivering Perys safely to Heligan, Martin and Annie drove back to Tregassick in a silence which Martin was the first to break. He spoke with a degree of hesitancy, as though unsure what his sister’s reaction would be.
‘Perys was very sweet on you at one time Annie. How do you think things would have turned out had Pa not hidden his letters to you?’
‘Who knows?’ Annie said, unaware of the bitterness in her voice. ‘I would probably have had his baby and he might have lost interest in me. On the other hand, he might not. We’ll never know. One thing is certain, I would never have married Jimmy. That was an awful mistake for both of us. He would have been happier had he gone straight back to the Rowe farm after being wounded, with his ma and Rose to look after him. Marrying me only made things worse for him. It wasn’t only because he couldn’t see or do things for himself, either. Because of his other wounds, he could never be a proper husband to me. No matter how much I said it didn’t matter to me, it mattered to Jimmy. I’ve thought about it lots. I believe it was probably a relief to him when Winnie found Perys’s letters and insisted on taking him back to the Rowe farm.’
Chapter 71
The day after the party at Tregassick Farm, Perys took a slow and painful walk to the office of Roger Barton, steward of the Heligan estates and agent for their landholdings in Cornwall.
The office was attached to the steward’s house, only a short distance from Heligan House itself, but Perys’s leg was stiff this morning as a result of the previous evening’s exertions. It took will-power in order to cover the distance involved.
Perys knew that if he told Morwenna of the discomfort he was in she could give him something to ease the pain - but she would also curtail his activities. He had lain awake for much of the night thinking about certain matters. There were a number of things that required his urgent attention.
Roger Barton was a tall, distinguished-looking man who at first thought Perys was a convalescent officer who had strayed into the grounds of the steward’s house by mistake. Even so, he was extremely polite and, when Perys explained who he was, the estate administrator was apologetic, but happy to meet with Perys.
Helping him into his office and seating him on a chair, the administrator said, ‘My dear chap, you should have sent for me. I would have come to the house to speak with you. I am not at all certain you should be walking any distance on that leg.’
‘I am beginning to wonder about it myself.’ Perys grimaced. ‘But I needed to speak to you and to look at the map showing the farms I own in Cornwall.’
‘I am entirely at your disposal,’ Barton said. ‘But first allow me to order a drink for you . . . tea?’
Tea was brought to them by a young woman who Roger Barton introduced as Amy.
‘Amy is from the village,’ he explained, when the girl had left the room. ‘She has taken a course in secretarial work and typing. She has only been with me for a couple of months, but is already proving indispensable. I don’t know how I managed before she came to work here - but, tell me, why are you so anxious to speak to me? I trust you are not unhappy with the manner in which I am managing the farms on your behalf?’
‘You are doing a splendid job,’ Perys assured him. ‘My grandfather’s solicitor is convinced they could not be in better hands. However, I have some ideas with which I fear you will not agree. They are philanthropic rather than business-like.’
‘I see,’ Barton said, noncommittally. ‘Perhaps I may hear about them before I comment?’
‘Of course,’ Perys agreed. ‘First of all, my grandfather’s solicitor said that one of the farms is vacant at present. Is this still so?’
‘Yes,’ said the land agent. ‘A farm not far from here, at Gorran. It was occupied by William Johns. He had two sons, both of whom were killed in France. William was a broken man. He lost heart in the farm, saying he had been keeping it on only in order to hand it over to them. I have rented out some of the fields - purely on a seasonal basis - to some of his neighbours, but have yet to find a new tenant.’
‘This war has ruined so many lives,’ Perys commented, sympathetically. ‘How large is this farm?’
‘Almost five hundred acres,’ was the reply. ‘It was in very good heart until the last year or so.’
‘So it’s more than twice the size of Peruppa?’ Perys placed a finger on the map Roger Barton had produced and named the farm adjacent to th
at occupied by Walter Bray.
‘Yes,’ agreed the land agent. ‘Does that have some significance?’
‘Yes,’ Perys said. ‘I was talking to the Peruppa tenant yesterday. Without knowing I was his landlord, he told me he needed twice as much land if he is to continue in profit. Without telling him you have spoken to me, I would like you to offer him the larger farm. Tell him he can have it for two years at the rate he is currently paying for Peruppa, in order to cover the expenses of the move.’
Roger Barton opened his mouth to make a comment, but he closed it again without saying anything, aware that Perys had more to say.
Perys continued, ‘When he has accepted - and I want you to ensure that he does - you will offer Peruppa to Martin Bray. Suggest that he and his father work their two farms as one, with a view to Martin taking over both in due course. If they agree, as I feel they will, you will tell them they may have both farms rent-free for two years, in order that Martin’s capital can be put to use to stock the farms. If they query your generosity, tell them it is the Estate’s way of saying thank you to Martin for his heroism and sacrifice during the late war.’
Roger Barton was silent for some time after Perys had outlined his plans for the various farms. When he eventually spoke, he said, ‘You realise your proposals will have a considerable impact upon the profitability of the lands I administer for you?’
‘Of course - and in your annual account you may explain the reason for any drop in profit.’
‘Thank you.’ The land agent was silent for a few moments, then he said, ‘May I ask why you are making these extremely generous gestures?’
‘Certainly. Martin Bray was my observer and gunner for a long time when I was flying in a reconnaissance squadron. His skill saved my life on more than one occasion, but his pride would not allow him to accept Peruppa Farm from me on such terms as I have suggested. I rely on you to persuade him to take the farm and so repay the debt I owe to him.’
Perys’s reply seemed to satisfy the Heligan land agent. ‘I understand and applaud such generosity, Mr Tremayne. I have no doubt that all the parties concerned will fall in with your wishes. Now, would you like me to tell you what is happening with your other properties?’
‘I have not told anyone where I am,’ Perys said. ‘I should get back before they send out a search party for me. Perhaps you will write a report and send it to the big house with farm books and anything you feel I should see. I have time on my hands in which to study and get an idea of how things are with the lands here. I would be particularly interested with your views on the problems the farmers tell me they have been experiencing in recent years . . .’
Chapter 72
Perys had been right to be concerned about his absence from Heligan House. He learned that the servants had been searching for him and the housekeeper was on the verge of reporting his disappearance to the sister-in-charge of the convalescent home - Morwenna.
Bewildered by the fuss, Perys asked the reason for such concern and why they were looking for him.
‘You’ll need to put that question to Polly.’ said the house-keeper in a determined-not-to-be- offended tone. ‘She was given the week off to be with her husband, but is in the house at the moment looking for you and will not tell me why. If you go to your room I will have her found and sent there.’
Perys had only just entered his room when Polly arrived in an agitated state. Tm sorry if I’ve caused you any trouble.’ she said immediately, ‘but Martin said I should come and find you right away. A policeman came to Annie’s house early this morning to tell her that Jimmy is dead. He’s committed suicide. The policeman took away the letters you wrote to her all those years ago.’
Perys was startled by both pieces of news. ‘That’s a dreadful thing to happen, Polly - but what has his death to do with my letters?’
‘Winnie Rowe has told the police he killed himself because of them,’ Polly declared.
Perys looked at her in disbelief. ‘Jimmy’s death is a dreadful tragedy, Polly, but to suggest my letters are to blame is quite ludicrous.’
‘I know that,’ Polly said, unhappily, ‘and so does Annie, but it’s what Winnie has told the police. They’ve taken your letters to give to the coroner. The policeman said there will need to be an inquest.’
* * *
The inquest on Jimmy Rowe was held in the town hall in Fowey, the town nearest to the Rowe farm. It generated considerable interest in the surrounding area because Winnie Rowe had let it be known that she was determined the coroner would not record a verdict of Feio de se -literally ‘Felon of himself’ - which would tell the world that Jimmy had deliberately and knowingly killed himself.
Such a verdict would preclude him from being given a Christian burial.
Winnie also let it be known that she intended to prove Jimmy had killed himself in a fit of temporary insanity, brought about by the discovery of his wife’s infidelity with ‘a gentleman of breeding’.
When the day of the hearing arrived, the public were forced to wait outside the town hall for a considerable time before the proceedings commenced. The reason for the delay was that, in a surprise move, a solicitor attended the hearing and held a meeting with the coroner before it began.
When the public were admitted and the coroner appeared, he announced that because of the remarks made in public by a certain ‘interested party’, the solicitor had been engaged to protect the reputation of his unnamed client and ensure he was not slandered. After looking into the matter prior to the hearing, the solicitor, Mr Dean, had decided the best way this might be achieved was for him to represent Annie at the hearing.
The coroner then spoke to Winnie, warning her she was not to name the ‘gentleman of breeding’ she believed to have had an affair with her daughter-in-law.
When Winnie protested, the coroner informed her very firmly that if she did not heed his warning he would ensure she went to prison for a considerable period of time.
When he was satisfied Winnie fully understood, the coroner said, ‘Good. Now, there is no dispute over the tragic fact that James Rowe, sorely wounded in the war, committed suicide. The sad task of this inquest is to ascertain the state of his mind when he committed this act. Was he aware of what he was doing, or was it carried out in a moment of temporary insanity? May we have the first witness, please?’
The first man to speak was the constable who had been called to the barn where Jimmy had been found hanging from a beam. He spoke of what he had found and said that in view of what Winnie Rowe had told him, he went to the house Jimmy had until recently occupied with Annie and took possession of a number of letters.
When the constable had completed his evidence, the coroner said, ‘I have read the letters, which I believe you consider contributed to your son’s actions, Mrs Rowe - Mrs Winnie Rowe. I would now like to hear what you have to say about them, if you please.’
Allowed to sit while she was addressing the coroner, Winnie looked defiantly across the room to where Annie sat beside Hubert Dean, her solicitor.
‘When I found those letters I knew right away what had been going on - and was still going on, I’ve no doubt. So I took my Jimmy back home to where he belonged and away from her.’ After identifying Annie with a jab of her finger, she remembered what it was that needed to be proved to the coroner. ‘Our Jimmy was so upset he was out of his mind worrying about it, he was.’
‘Was he upset because of what was in the letters, or because you were taking him away from his wife, Mrs Rowe?’
‘It was them letters, sir. No doubt about it.’
‘I see. You read the contents of the letters to the deceased, of course? I understand he was blind?’
‘That’s right, sir. He was in tears about it all. Sobbing his heart out.’
‘I find that difficult to comprehend, Mrs Rowe. I have read the letters and find nothing in them to intimate any wrongdoing on the part of your son’s wife. Indeed, I find them rather charming. The letters of an honourable young man to
a young woman of whom he is quite obviously fond - and written when they were both very young, I understand?’
‘That isn’t the way I read them,’ Winnie retorted. ‘It wasn’t what my Jimmy thought, neither. He was no fool. He realised, same as I did, that the only reason she married him was because she probably thought she was expecting by . . . by this man I can’t name. She must have thought that with my Jimmy being so badly wounded in the war, he wouldn’t know what had been going on - and is still going on, I dare say.’
There was a loud murmur of what might have been sympathy from the spectators in the court.
Solicitor Dean rose to his feet. Addressing the coroner he asked, ‘Do I have your permission to put one or two questions to the witness, sir?’
‘Please do, Mr Dean,’ was the coroner’s reply.
Turning to Winnie, the solicitor said, ‘May I first of all sympathise with you on the loss of your son in this way, Mrs Rowe?’
She nodded an acknowledgement of his words, albeit warily, and he continued, ‘However, it is my duty, indeed the duty of this court, to arrive at a true conclusion and not accept malicious tittle-tattle without question.’
There was an indignant gasp from the spectators and Winnie said, ‘It’s not tittle-tattle. I saw the letters to her with my own eyes.’
‘So too have I - and the coroner. I will not go into the question of how you came to read them, but I am afraid that both the coroner and I disagree with your interpretation of them. However, we will move on to a rather more serious matter. Your suggestion that Annie married your son because she thought she might be pregnant. She was not pregnant, of course, but are you suggesting she was a young woman of loose morals before she married your son?’
‘And afterwards too, if you ask me,’ Winnie said, defiantly. ‘Gentlemen of the likes of . . . him as I can’t mention, don’t go out with working-girls because they want to marry ’em. It’s for what they take from ’em. She wouldn’t be the first to be left in the lurch, and I doubt she’ll be the last, either.’
The Lost Years Page 36
