by Iris Gower
Over the years his love for Llinos had not diminished, it had grown stronger. He had been with her through her troubles and joys for so long that she had become a part of him.
Restlessly, he drank his porter and, throwing some coins on the table, left the warmth of the fireplace for the chill outside. He retraced his steps and found himself heading towards Potters Row. He wondered if Llinos would mind him calling at such a late hour but he was willing to take the risk.
He was greeted with the warmth he had come to expect from her. He entered the drawing room and witnessed the cosy scene with a feeling of envy. Llinos was seated beside Joe, her hand in his, and opposite, like two benign pets, sat Charlotte and her new husband.
‘We were just going to have some mulled wine and cake,’ Llinos said. ‘Will you join us, Eynon?’
He was accepted into the circle at once and here he felt loved for himself, not for what he could do or give. He wondered if he should mention that Bert Cimla was back in Swansea. It would be a good idea to put Llinos on her guard against the man but, then, it would be equally good to allow her a peaceful night with her relatives. In the end he decided to hold his tongue until a better moment.
The hours passed towards midnight, the logs shifted in the fireplace and still the conversation was animated, the atmosphere full of warmth and comfort and camaraderie.
Eynon looked up at the sudden disturbance in the hall and Llinos rose to her feet, her face pale, her hand to her heart. He knew at once what she feared, that the yeomanry had come for Joe again. But it was his mother-in-law who bustled into the room, her rouged cheeks flushed, her mouth set in a grim line.
‘Oh, come in, Mrs . . .’ Llinos’s voice died away as Elizabeth came to a halt before Eynon.
‘Sir, you should be ashamed of yourself,’ she stormed. ‘Sitting here enjoying yourself and your wife alone at home worried out of her wits!’ Elizabeth spoke like a harridan, her cultured tones overlaid with the coarseness of a woman of the streets.
‘You do realize that she is in a very delicate condition, don’t you?’ Elizabeth continued. ‘Do you want your wife to fall sick and lose the child? Is that what you want?’
Eynon rose swiftly and took Elizabeth’s arm. ‘Will you excuse my mother-in-law’s rudeness, Llinos?’ He propelled Elizabeth towards the door, anger building within him. ‘I shall see you tomorrow some time – to apologize.’
He almost dragged Elizabeth the small distance to the big house and, once inside, he turned on her, his heart hammering with anger he could hardly contain.
‘How dare you!’ he said. ‘How dare you burst into the home of my friends and make a spectacle of yourself and me?’
Elizabeth drew back as if fearing a blow. ‘I was worried about my daughter; it’s only natural, isn’t it?’
‘You think you can run my life, do you?’ he demanded. ‘Well I’m here to tell you that I will not stand for it. Do you hear me? Any more scenes from you or your daughter and you can pack your bags and get out of my house, both of you.’
‘You can’t do that,’ Elizabeth tried to bluster. ‘You are legally married to my daughter, she is having your child.’
‘Is she indeed?’ Eynon said. ‘Would any judge in the land agree with you, I wonder? If I told everyone the circumstances of my meeting with your daughter I think I would gain a divorce with very little trouble.’
‘You wouldn’t!’
‘I would and I will if you and your shrew of a daughter do not stop interfering in my life,’ Eynon said.
The maid was hovering anxiously beside him in the hall, waiting to take his coat and hat. ‘Bring me some wine,’ Eynon said and the girl bobbed a curtsey, her eyes downcast. ‘And bring it to my room.’
Eynon favoured Elizabeth with a last, withering look and left her standing open-mouthed, her cheeks red, her breathing uneven. Suddenly she looked what she was, a raddled whore and, in that moment, Eynon almost relented.
‘You despicable man!’ she said in a low, venomous tone. He shook his head and climbed the remaining stairs to the privacy of his own room.
‘I felt so sorry for Eynon.’ Llinos was frowning, her hands clasped together in her lap. ‘I don’t know how he could bear to live in the same house as that awful woman.’
‘Does he have much choice?’ Charlotte’s soft voice asked. ‘Even I can see that such a woman would be the bane of any man’s life.’
Joe looked at Samuel and smiled. ‘We men have to put up with a great deal from our wives, don’t you agree, Sam?’
‘Indeed, I do. We are hard done by, taken advantage of by the little feminine tricks women learn in the cradle.’
Charlotte threw a cushion at her husband. ‘Then be quiet, wretch, know your place.’
Samuel shrugged. ‘You see?’
Charlotte rose to her feet. ‘Come, Sam, I think it’s time we went to our beds and left these young people to themselves.’
He rose at once and took his wife’s hand. His thin face was alight with love and Llinos swallowed a lump in her throat.
‘Good night to you both,’ she said. ‘See you at breakfast.’
Samuel paused in the doorway. ‘Llinos, Joe, there’s something I think you should know.’ He shrugged again. ‘It might be of little importance but it seems my son is still in Swansea.’ He took a deep breath. ‘He is living in a lodging house and is keeping some very strange company. Just be on your guard, both of you.’ He hung his head. ‘Saul is a wicked, ruthless man, I fear he will stop at nothing. He is driven by greed, it rules him.’
Charlotte slipped her hand through Sam’s arm. ‘There, my love, don’t think of him now. Come to bed and sleep, my brother will take care of everything.’ She smiled at Joe, her eyes full. ‘I bless the day you came into our lives, Joe,’ she said softly. ‘I have never been so happy in all my life. Is that selfish of me when I know that poor, dear Letitia isn’t here to share my happiness?’
As Samuel led his wife from the room, Llinos moved closer to Joe. ‘You see how you are loved and needed?’ she whispered. ‘And no-one loves and needs you more than I do. Hold me, Joe, because I have one of those awful feelings that something is about to go very wrong.’
‘You want me to put this stuff in your father’s food?’ Lily looked at the bottle curiously. The liquid inside clung thickly to the sides of the glass. ‘What is it?’
‘Medication,’ Saul said flatly. ‘My father refuses to take it and, without it, he is not well, not well at all.’
Lily smiled. ‘But, Saul, I work in the paint shed. How am I supposed to get into the house, the kitchen is always full of people?’
Saul smiled down at her, his finger under her chin, tipping her face up to his. ‘My clever little wife-to-be will find a way.’ He kissed her lightly and her lips were cool, childlike beneath his. After a moment, Lily drew away. She looked up artfully at Saul and slipped the bottle into the small velvet bag hanging from her waist.
‘Are we going into town to have my ring fitted today, Saul?’ she asked. He shook his head and she bit her lip in sudden impatience. ‘When will we get it, then?’ She knew her words had carried an edge to them and she knew too, it was not wise to anger a man, especially a man like Saul. ‘I want everyone to know that I belong to such a wonderful man,’ she added hastily.
Saul moved to the edge of the river and stared into the depths. Lily moved beside him and slipped her arm through his. ‘You know Watt Bevan still pursues me, don’t you? He would give anything to have me for his wife.’
Instead of rousing jealousy in Saul as she had intended, she saw that he was angry. He turned to her, his face dark and gripped her arm. ‘Are you betrothed to me or not?’ he demanded.
‘I am, my love, as soon as you put a ring on my finger.’ She had taken just about enough of him. She dragged her arm away and flounced back onto the road, making for the busy streets of the town. She had expected Saul to run after her, that is exactly the way Watt would have behaved, but he did no such thing.
&nbs
p; She was committed to her walk, if she turned back she would lose the ground she had gained. Saul must not think that he had her just where he wanted her. It did not do to allow any man too much power. Anger flowed through her; she felt so powerless, at the mercy of a man who did not even keep his word about their betrothal.
The town was busy with market shoppers. Sides of beef hung from market stalls, the meat dark and dried. Lily stared at the stall, repulsed by the gruesome sight of the butcher hacking a leg of lamb.
She turned to leave the market when, across the street, she caught sight of Maura Dundee. The woman held her head aloft and sailed through the crowds as though she was a great lady not a servant. She had always been a snob, no-one would ever think from her manner that she was a deserted wife.
‘Day to you, Maura,’ Lily said staring in scorn at the ring the woman wore on her finger. She had the badge of marriage, respectability and yet she was as dried up as an old maid.
Maura looked down at Lily without recognition. Her eyes were aloof, she did not smile. ‘Do I know you?’
It was a deliberate insult. Maura knew her, of course she did, anyone with any connection with the potteries knew Lily, the talented painter.
Suddenly the desire to hurt and wound rose up like a sickness and Lily jostled Maura’s arm, almost upsetting the basket of eggs and ham.
‘What do you think you are doing, girl?’ Maura’s voice was hard. ‘Run away and play like the child you are.’
‘Not such a child that I don’t know what your husband is up to,’ Lily said spitefully. ‘Gone off to America, as far away from you as possible and married again, with three fine sons.’ She looked up pleased at the startled expression on the older woman’s face. ‘Oh, didn’t you know? Well everyone else does, a laughing stock all over Swansea, you are.’ With that last parting shot, Lily turned away and lost herself in the crowds.
Serve the old cow right, looking down her nose at decent respectable folk. Who did she think she was? All the same, Lily felt a sudden sense of disquiet; she had promised Watt she would say nothing about Binnie Dundee and his new life across the sea. Well, Watt was nothing to her now, she had bigger fish to fry. If she had to sell herself into marriage it might as well be with a rich, well set-up young man like Saul Marks.
Lily suddenly knew she must see Saul, must make up for her bad temper of earlier. Best to bide her time though, give the old man a drop of the medicine so that Saul would be pleased with her. But it was not so easy to accomplish that, Lily scarcely went into Pottery House.
She made her way at a brisk pace back along the streets towards the spot where the tall stacks of the kilns reared upwards above the houses. The smells, the sounds, the feel of the pottery were all so familiar to her, all she had ever thought she wanted. Now something better beckoned, a good life of leisure with a man who could afford the finer things in life. And once the old man, his father, was dead, who knew what riches Saul would inherit?
On an impulse Lily took the bottle and stared at the contents thoughtfully. Did Saul want his father dead? Then, dismissing the thought as impossible, she returned the bottle to her bag.
It was a triumphant Lily who met Saul in his rooms that evening. She was a little worried about being alone with him but she did not want the old busybodies who inhabited the lounge to hear their conversation.
‘I’ve done it,’ she said. ‘I’ve managed to bribe Meggie, the maid. She’s promised to put the medicine in your father’s food and drink for a small reward, of course.’
‘What reward?’ Saul asked suspiciously.
‘Nothing that costs any money, don’t worry, I’m too clever for that.’ Lily was already aware that money was a very important commodity to her husband-to-be. ‘I’ve promised to give Meggie a chance to go out with Watt Bevan. That way I’ll kill two birds with one stone.’ Lily slipped her arm around Saul’s waist and he drew her close at once, his hand pressing against her breast. She felt uncomfortable but did not want to offend him by drawing away. ‘I will have to go out with the two of them, it’s the only way to get Watt to agree. He’s daft on me of course, but at least Meggie will have a chance to get him to notice her.’
‘Fat chance!’ Saul said passionately. ‘He won’t see anything, not with you around. Your beauty would outshine any other woman. Look, I’ve got a surprise for my best girl.’
Lily looked up at him, her face flushed. ‘The ring, Saul, you’ve got the ring!’ Lily watched breathless as Saul took a small pouch from his pocket. He tipped it up and a sparkling gold band lay in the square palm of his hand. He took her fingers, slipped the ring on and it fitted perfectly.
‘How beautiful!’ Lily stared at the shining gold band, entranced. ‘It’s perfect, it’s the best gift I’ve ever had.’
Saul moved away from her and opened a bottle of ruby red wine. ‘Now we must celebrate our betrothal in style,’ he said.
She took the glass, feeling more than a little apprehensive. She sipped it and the warmth spread like a glow through her veins. She had never tasted wine so rich. Saul took her towards the bed and sat her down.
‘Come along, drink up, be happy, we are going to be married just as soon as I can arrange it.’
To please him she drank deeply and felt the wine hit the pit of her stomach like a blow. It was really quite a nice sensation, she realized. Saul refilled her glass and she giggled like a child.
‘I can’t believe it, Saul, I’m going to be Mrs Marks. Won’t all the girls envy me?’ She leaned forward in an uncharacteristic mood of happiness and kissed his cheek.
‘I’m glad to see you so happy.’ Saul tipped her glass towards her lips and, obediently, she drank the wine. The world seemed a light place, the candlelight shimmered on the gold on her finger and her head and heart felt light as feathers. Why had she worried so much about marrying? Just look how good and kind Saul was being to her, giving her a wonderful time, buying her expensive gifts, she was so lucky. How envious Polly would be when she told her the news.
Saul took the glass from her hand and pressed her back against the bed. ‘Talking about rewards,’ he said, ‘what about my reward?’
An edge of doubt penetrated the rosy haze in Lily’s mind. ‘I love you so much, Lily, and I want you desperately. It’s only natural, isn’t it?’
She tried to think clearly. Polly said that it was natural, she even enjoyed it. And Lily had allowed Saul to lie with her once even though she could not remember it. Strange, the wine was not affecting her at all in the same way as it had on that occasion. Although her mind was hazy now, she knew exactly what she was doing.
Saul was undressing her, she felt her clothes being pulled away from her and tossed aside. The cold of the night air touched her breasts and she looked down to see her nipples harden, pale pink against her white skin. She knew she was no longer able to stop him. If she protested now he would never forgive her. She hoped that he would at least blow the candles out. He did and the darkness enveloped her.
Then he was beside her, touching her, kissing her. She tried to respond, tried to like what he was doing but she cried out in pain when he thrust against her, hurting her. He took her cries for ones of pleasure and redoubled his efforts. He moaned and laboured and every convulsive movement pained her. It was just as bad as she had thought it was going to be. There was no passion, no feeling, just disgust. She bit her lip, hating every moment, until at last he fell on top of her, breathing hard, his hairy chest pressed disgustingly against her soft breasts.
‘My little Lily, my love,’ he said. ‘Do you know what? I think I’ve actually gone and fallen in love with you!’ He sounded surprised as though he had never put a gold ring on her finger and said she was his girl. She tried to clear her head but the wine was too strong. Now that the ordeal was over Lily wanted only to sleep. She curled her legs up to her stomach and allowed the darkness to overwhelm her.
Eynon paced about the room, hearing the cries of his wife in the bedroom above with a feeling of dread. He had co
me home to find his wife had gone into labour, prematurely, or at least that was what she had told him. Dark doubts assailed him. Had she been pregnant even when he had first lain with her? But no, that was impossible, she had been a virgin, he could swear to it. But could he? Women had a way of being able to fool a man.
His friend Martin had been called and now the cleric entered the room, his face grave. ‘She’s bad, Eynon, very bad. I think you will have to brace yourself for the worst.’
‘Oh, God!’ Eynon sank down into a chair, his hands over his eyes as though he could shut out everything around him.
‘I’ll ring for someone to bring you a drink,’ Martin said gently. ‘Buck up, my old friend, this is part of the great plan, you know. Life, birth, death, it is all so natural and we just have to accept it. I’ll just slip back upstairs, see if there’s anything I can do.’
It was Maura who brought the tray of drinks. Eynon looked up to see that her eyes were swollen with weeping. What on earth was the matter with the woman? She could not be crying for Annabel as she scarcely knew her. He sat up straighter: something had happened, something that was outside this household. The thought brought with it almost a sense of relief; that someone else’s life was as stormy as his own.
‘What’s wrong, Maura?’ he asked. She looked at him dully.
‘Sure, an’ you’ve enough to put up with as it is without worrying about me.’ For once her voice was soft, sympathetic, and the silly weak tears started in Eynon’s eyes.
‘You are very upset, Maura, please tell me what’s wrong, perhaps I can help. Come here and sit down and talk to me.’
Maura sank into a chair as though her legs had become too weak to hold her. Her mouth trembled and all at once she looked like the young woman she really was.
‘My husband is married to an American woman, he has three sons by her. It isn’t the first time I’ve heard such gossip and I hate him for hurting me all over again!’
Eynon was taken by surprise. ‘It’s possible, of course but if it is true, I’ve heard nothing of it. Gossip can be cruel, try not to let it upset you so, Maura, until you know for sure what the truth is.’
