by Iris Gower
A small grain of an idea settled into Philip’s brain. With Estelle dead he could start afresh. He could begin his life without encumbrances. He lay awake for a long time and slowly, a plan began to take shape in his mind.
‘You see, it looks even better against the sunlight.’
Llinos, her sleeves rolled above her elbows, her hair tied back from her face, took the plate almost reverently. It was light and fine to touch and as she held it up to the sunlight she could see her fingers through the porcelain.
‘There’s not much soaprock in this, is there?’ She looked towards Mr Wright. The old man pushed back his greying hair and shook his head.
‘About a sixth and about twenty-six pounds of bone with half again of sand, I suppose.’ His voice was gruff but the faint West-Country nuances softened it. ‘See how fine it is.’
‘Aye, the problem is that it vitrifies suddenly and sometimes fuses to the saggars,’ Philip Morton-Edwards broke into the conversation. ‘Anyhow, I shall leave you to sort all that out, I have a business meeting in town.’
The workers in the large shed touched their caps as Morton-Edwards walked past them without a glance. Once he had gone, the atmosphere in the room lightened. Men talked quietly together, there was a clatter of saggars being stacked and one man began to sing softly, it was a haunting sound.
‘What are you doing here?’ Mr Wright asked slowly. ‘The sheds are no place for the daughter of Captain Savage.’
‘I’m writing down the recipes you’re using,’ she said. ‘I thought you would appreciate some help to keep a check on your experiments.’
‘Here to keep an eye on me, are you, his nibs doesn’t trust me, thinks I’ll hold him to ransom by keeping the exact ingredients secret.’
‘Not at all!’ Llinos protested.
‘In any case, shouldn’t you be home under the care and protection of your father?’
Llinos looked at him in surprise. ‘I really do not think that is any of your business, Mr Wright.’
‘No, maybe not.’ He turned away. ‘Very well, let me show you how I propose to make the glaze, shall I?’
‘Wait, is there something I should know about Mr Morton-Edwards? What are you trying to warn me of?’
‘As you said, girlie, it’s really none of my business.’ He regarded her steadily. ‘You have a great deal of common sense, use it.’
The edge of excitement Llinos had felt at the prospect of being involved in making the fine china slipped away from her. Everyone was warning her about Philip Morton-Edwards, could they all be wrong? It seemed unlikely. Ah well, she had a job to do and it was about time she got on with it.
That evening, Estelle did not put in an appearance at dinner. The long, elegant dining-room was ablaze with candles, a gold and silver bowl filled with flowers stood at the centre. Mr Morton-Edwards sat at one end of the long table and Llinos at the other.
‘Is Estelle unwell?’ Llinos broke the silence which had begun to feel uncomfortable.
‘My wife is of a delicate constitution, you will notice many such absences. I apologize for her.’
‘No need,’ Llinos said quickly. ‘May I see her, later?’
‘I would not recommend it. She needs complete rest though I believe hers is a monthly indisposition that most women bear with a great deal more stoicism.’
‘I see. Some women do have . . . difficult days of the month.’
‘Let us talk about my china.’ Philip Morton-Edwards changed the subject. ‘Do you think we can solve the firing problems?’
Llinos was more comfortable now. On familiar ground, she talked animatedly, warming to this man whom everyone else seemed to regard as a monster. He was a stern man but then no more implacable than her own father.
Philip provided decent housing for his employees and paid them fair wages. He was filled with a burning ambition for the china but then so was she. It was something they shared, a meeting point, a bond almost.
Philip unexpectedly turned the direction of the conversation. ‘I’m surprised that a beautiful girl like you is not already spoken for. You know I harbour hopes that you might one day accept Eynon but, tell me, are there no other suitors in the offing?’
‘Not at the moment.’
‘Many young ladies of your age are mothers already.’
She recognized the argument; it was the same one she had used with Joe and yet now she was uncomfortable with it.
‘I don’t know that I will ever marry or have children.’
He regarded her steadily. ‘Some might say you talk like a woman scorned. Are you?’
‘Really, Mr Morton-Edwards, you do ask such personal questions.’
‘Then please answer me honestly.’ He was watching with nothing but genuine interest in his eyes and she suddenly felt the urge to confide in him.
‘I fell in love with the wrong man.’ She met his gaze. ‘My father thinks he is wrong and so does he.’
‘By “he” I gather you mean this Indian chap?’
She looked at him in surprise and he laughed. ‘There’s not a great deal that escapes me. That is one of the secrets of my success, Llinos dear.’
‘Do you think it wrong?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know the man. I understand that even though he is half Indian he is well-educated and from good stock on his father’s side.’
‘But you see him as my father does, not quite one of us.’
Philip put down his gleaming cutlery. ‘And you, Llinos, see him from the point of view of a young, romantic girl. He is handsome as the devil, charming too I’ve no doubt, but his way of life is of necessity different from ours. If you did marry him and have children they too would be half-breeds.’
Llinos sighed. ‘In any case, he does not want me so there’s an end to it.’
‘Poor Llinos. So you have decided, as I have, that the china is the better passion. China does not disappoint, it does not reject, it responds to any care and attention that is lavished upon it.’
Llinos saw Philip Morton-Edwards then as others failed to: he was lonely, misunderstood, searching for a perfection he might never find. He lowered his head and stared down into his glass and Llinos felt his sadness flow towards her. She hesitated and then crossed the room and touched his shoulder.
‘Please, don’t be unhappy.’
He put his arms around her waist and pressed his head against her breast.
‘I am so lonely, Llinos, so misunderstood.’ His voice was heavy and Llinos stifled the urge to pull away from him. He was in pain, how could she hurt him more? She brushed his hair as if he was a child and for a moment he clung to her. Then he released her and sighed.
‘My bout of self-pity is over now, Llinos, please leave me while I ease my mind with a good drink and a smoke.’ He smiled up at her. ‘And Llinos, thank you for your kindness.’
In the drawing-room, Llinos sat staring out into the moonlit garden. She must see Eynon, tell him that his father needed him. Estelle was delicate and must not be worried and in any case, she had no interest in Philip’s work. He needed someone to talk to, to share his achievements with, and that someone should be his son, not the daughter of another man.
When Philip joined her, he was cheerful. His eyes sparkled and he entertained her with stories of his boyhood in Cornwall. He told her of the china clay extracted from the ground and poured aboard ships. Told her of the sea-green pools formed in disused workings.
‘Well, my dear, I’m going to retire,’ he said at last. He touched her shoulder lightly in passing.
‘Perhaps we two lost, misunderstood souls can be of help and comfort to each other, Llinos, what do you say, can we be friends?’
She let her hand rest on his. ‘I think we already are.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Eynon Morton-Edwards’ house was built of grey stone. It stood on a promontory of land above the curving bay on the outskirts of Swansea. It had once been a vicarage and had housed a large family of children in the five bedrooms that ran
the length of the landing. Now it was home to Eynon, Binnie Dundee, Maura and her young baby. The only other servant had quarrelled with Maura and had left the house in a fit of temper, declaring the work of such a big house was too much for her.
Llinos stood before the ornate gate and looked along the curving, tree-lined drive, wondering if she would find Eynon at home. She had decided to walk the stretch of the bay from the pottery to Black Pill and the village beyond. She was young and healthy but even so, her feet, in the inadequate leather slippers, had begun to ache.
As she had left the Tawe Pottery, she had seen her father. He had turned his head away from her and his rejection hurt. Now, pausing to catch her breath, she thought about her father’s attitude more calmly. She realized that he was as proud and angry as she was; it was difficult for him to give in and admit he was wrong.
It was inevitable that she should see him sooner or later because the Savage Pottery stood cheek by jowl with the larger Tawe Pottery. If only he had held out his hand, or if he had smiled, Llinos would have gone to him, tried to talk to him. But he had done neither.
She pushed open the gates and walked slowly along the drive. It was a fine day, though the breeze coming in from the sea was a little chilly. When she reached the arched front door, she knocked briskly. She was looking forward to some sympathetic company and perhaps some refreshment after her long walk.
She heard footsteps and then the door was flung open. In the background was the paintive sound of a baby crying.
‘Llinos Savage, what are you doing here?’ Maura looked ill. Her skin, once blooming, was devoid of colour. She had grown thin, the bones showing through the insubstantial material of her gown.
‘I’m here to see Mr Morton-Edwards.’ Offended by Maura’s lack of courtesy, Llinos’s tone was icy.
‘Well, come in! Sure there’s no need for you to stand on the doorstep like a tradesman.’
She led Llinos towards the open door of the drawing-room. It was a room Llinos had liked at first sight, it was long with high windows at one end and French doors on the other leading out to the garden beyond.
‘I’ll see if Mr Morton-Edwards can see you.’
The crying of the baby from somewhere in the back region of the house began to intensify and Maura closed her eyes wearily.
‘Oh, mother of God! If only the child would be quiet, just for me to get my breath.’
She disappeared and Llinos sat on one of the plush chairs staring out of the window. Joe had been right, Maura was not living in blissful happiness. She looked harried, sickly and unhappy.
Joe. The thought of him brought a warmth to the pit of her stomach. The warmth spread through her and her body tingled with what she dimly recognized as desire. She wanted Joe to hold her, to make love to her, and yet she wanted so much more of him than that. She wanted his unconditional love, she wanted to be his soul mate. She had thought he felt the same. Why then was he keeping his distance from her?
‘Llinos, it’s good to see you.’ Eynon entered the room and pulled her to her feet, studying her at arm’s length. She could not help noticing how thin he looked in his linen shirt. He was so pale and there were shadows beneath his eyes.
‘Are you well, Eynon?’ she asked and he nodded, drawing her towards the sofa.
‘I am well enough, how about you?’ He looked at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘Have you run away? Has my dear father shown his true colours?’
‘Oh, Eynon! Don’t start all that again. I wanted to see you and spend some time with you. Do I have to have an ulterior motive for visiting you?’
‘So you are not here to talk about my father?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t say that. I would like to talk to you about your father as it happens.’
‘I thought so.’ He sat but there was a closed look on his face, a set to his mouth so that for once he appeared almost hard.
‘He’s not as bad as you make out, Eynon,’ she said. ‘I have been living beneath his roof for two weeks now and he has shown me nothing but kindness.’
‘He’s not stupid, he will not show his hand, not until he’s ready. Anyway, why aren’t you slaving for him today?’
‘I’m entitled to my day off, aren’t I? In any case, your father treats me more like a daughter than an employee.’
‘A daughter, eh? That will change It won’t be long until he’s trying to inveigle you into some underhand scheme or other. He damages everything he touches.’
Llinos took a deep breath and tried again. ‘He has found this new method of making porcelain. You should see it, Eynon, it’s so beautiful, it’s like snow when it is just beginning to melt. It’s so fine you can see your fingers through it.’
‘When you say my father has found this wonderful new method, you doubtless mean that one of his overworked employees has come up with a recipe which my father will make his own.’
‘I’m assisting Mr Wright,’ Llinos skid. ‘And we are not overworked. We’re experimenting with varying degrees of bone and soaprock. Your father is funding the venture, don’t forget.’
Eynon rose to his feet. ‘I’ll fetch us some cordial, you look hot and flustered.’
He left the room and, impatiently, Llinos followed him through the hallway and along the passage to the kitchen. The scene that greeted her was one of chaos. Dishes stood piled along the table at the side of the stone sink. Bits of food had been trodden into the flags of the floor. Over all was a smell of rancid food that almost made Llinos gag.
‘Good heavens, Eynon, why are you living like this? Where are your servants?’
‘Well, Mena was all the help I had beside Maura. She walked out, quarrelled with Maura about the baby. She said she couldn’t stand the noise of the child crying any longer. To tell you the truth, I’m sick of it myself. I’ve had the doctor here several times and he says there’s nothing wrong, the child is just teething.’
‘Oh, Eynon, what a state on the place!’
‘Maura can’t cope with the housework and the baby,’ he said mildly. ‘She’s unhappy, Binnie comes home less and less. God knows where he spends his time.’
Maura entered the kitchen and stared at Llinos defensively. ‘The baby cries and cries. The only one who can do anything with the child is Mr Morton-Edwards. I’m at my wit’s end so I am.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Eynon! You must get yourself more staff, you can’t go on this way, you’ll all die of some horrible fever. Come on, Maura, boil up some water. While I’m here, I might as well make myself useful.’
She took the hem of her gown and twisted it into a knot above her knees. ‘I’ll clean this place up for you, starting with all these dishes, and when I return to town I will try to find you more servants.’
Eynon laughed. ‘I wish you would marry me, Llinos, it would solve a great many of my problems.’
‘Be careful, I might just take you up on that. Go on, Eynon, you take care of the baby, Maura and I will get on with the cleaning.’
It was not as easy as Llinos had imagined. She had kept house after her mother died but she never had to cope with so much filth and grime as challenged her now. The water for washing the dishes cooled rapidly, gaining a film of grease in the process. Maura kept the fire going, carrying the boiling water to the sink but her heart was not in it. She sank against the door frame and wiped her eyes. ‘I’m weary, I can’t stand this any more, sure an’ aren’t I only human?’
Llinos shook the water from the last of the dishes and stared round her. There was still a great deal to do, the cupboards needed cleaning and the floor had to be scrubbed.
‘Go on, have a rest, I’ll carry on here.’
Maura nodded. ‘Do what you can, ’twill be in the same mess tomorrow or the day after, any road.’
Left alone, the task was doubly hard. Llinos needed to keep the fire going as well as carrying the water and doing the cleaning. It would have been better if she had brought in a band of young girls who were used to domestic work. The job would have been done muc
h quicker and far more efficiently. But it was too late to think of that now, she might just as well finish what she had started.
She lost track of time as she scrubbed woodwork and cold flagstones until her fingers were raw. When she rose, her back felt as though it was breaking in two.
‘When are you going to stop?’ Eynon stood in the door, Maura’s baby in his arms. ‘You don’t want to kill yourself, do you?’
‘It’s finished now. Doesn’t it smell much sweeter in here?’ Llinos opened the door to the back garden, allowing the fresh air to fill the kitchen.
‘Where’s Maura?’ Eynon said as the baby began to cry. ‘I think the little one needs feeding.’
‘She must be resting. She looks terrible, Eynon. Are things that bad between her and Binnie?’
He shrugged. ‘Go and find her. One thing I can’t do is give this child suck.’
As Llinos climbed the stairs, she became aware that the bottom of her skirts were clinging damply to her legs. Llinos went into the bedrooms one by one but there was no sign of Maura in any of them. Llinos frowned, a suspicion beginning to form in her mind. She opened the cupboards, looking for Maura’s belongings, for any sign of the girl’s presence. There was nothing. Slowly, Llinos descended the stairs.
‘She’s gone.’
Eynon looked at her. He had been crooning to the baby but now his eyes were wide with panic.
‘She can’t be gone, what can I do with a baby?’
‘She is gone. Now keep calm, Eynon. Nothing is insoluble. We’ll get a wet-nurse from town, just for the time being, until Maura comes to her senses.’
‘You are so damn sensible it hurts!’ Eynon said and Llinos looked at him in surprise.
‘Is that a fault then?’
‘No, but it would be nice to see some reaction from you for a change, some indication that you actually feel for people.’
Llinos closed her eyes, if only Eynon knew how deeply she did feel and how hard she worked to keep her feelings hidden.
‘I’ll go into town, I’ll send some women up to you as soon as I can. In the meantime, can you manage the baby alone?’
