Dylan was exactly where she had left him on the floor and she stepped over him as she went to fill the kettle at the sink.
He grunted and leaned up on one elbow to stare across at her. Then as memories of what had transpired the night before rushed back to him and he saw the state of her face he looked mortified. Her eye was black and blue and her lip was swollen.
‘Oh, Grace, forgive me,’ he choked as he staggered to his feet. ‘I … I don’t know what came over me … I would never hurt you, cariad, never! It’ll never happen again, I promise. I think I was just frustrated because you’d made no move towards me.’
‘In case you’ve forgotten, you said before we were wed that that side of it could come in my time,’ she answered coldly.
He lifted the chair that had been overturned the night before in the scuffle and dropped heavily onto it, burying his face in his hands. ‘I know and what I did was unforgivable. But I love you so much and all you seem to care about is the baby.’ He shook his head and she saw there were tears in his eyes. ‘Oh, you wash and iron, and cook and clean for me, admittedly. But never once have you kissed me without me making the first move and I suppose I was feeling frustrated.’
‘But I was always honest with you,’ she pointed out, suddenly feeling guilty. ‘I was hoping that I would grow to love you in time but if this should happen again—’
‘It won’t,’ he interrupted her.
She shrugged as her anger ebbed away. Perhaps she should have tried to be a little more loving towards him at least. ‘Well, happen you need to get ready for work. Your father will be wondering where you are. I’ll make you something to eat,’ she said dully.
Looking deeply ashamed, he slunk away to have a wash and when he returned Grace had bacon and eggs on the table ready for him. However, his face was the colour of lint and he clearly had no appetite.
‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered. ‘But I don’t feel very hungry.’
‘I’m not surprised.’ Grace snatched his plate away. ‘You’ve got a hangover and serves you right.’ She pointed to the other end of the table where she had wrapped some food in a cloth for him to take with him. ‘There’s your snap. Now you’d best be off.’
Humbly he lifted the small parcel and headed for the door, where he paused to look back and ask fearfully, ‘You will still be here when I come home tonight, won’t you? I’ll be on time, honestly.’
She nodded but kept her back to him. ‘I’ll be here.’
It was only when she heard the door close softly behind him that she allowed herself to sag against the sink as the tears came once more. What have I done? she wondered, but the sound of the bird’s dawn chorus in the trees outside was her only answer.
After a while she boiled some water and washed herself from head to toe but still she felt dirty. She felt as if she had been violated and despite her promise to Dylan to be there when he got home, she wondered if she would ever be able to look at him in the same way again. She’d seen a side of him that she didn’t like.
That day she struggled through the household chores – things that she usually enjoyed doing – and early in the afternoon she carried a wicker basket full of clean washing out into the garden and began to peg it to the line.
She had been there for some minutes before she became aware of someone watching her and whirling about she saw old lady Gower eyeing her over the fence.
‘That’s a good shiner you have on you there,’ she commented.
Grace flushed with embarrassment as she lifted her hand to cover her eye. ‘I, er … fell over in the kitchen last night and cracked my face on the floor,’ she mumbled, although even to her own ears she didn’t sound very convincing.
‘Mm … I heard you scream when it happened.’
Grace cringed. The old lady obviously knew that she was lying, she’d probably heard the whole disgusting episode.
‘Stay there and I’ll go and make you a fresh parsley poultice, it’s good for bruises,’ Mrs Gower said and pottered away.
Grace was happy to try anything. Her eye was sore and her head throbbed and she knew that old lady Gower was renowned for her herbal cures as well as being used by the local women as a midwife. The path to her door was trodden almost daily by folks from the surrounding villages who came seeking one of her cures. And so when she returned, Grace gently pressed the poultice to her eye without a qualm.
‘You could try this for your split lip an’ all.’ Mrs Gower handed Grace a tiny pot. ‘It’s only camomile but you’ll find it will soothe it.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Gower.’ Grace accepted the pot, cringing with humiliation. The old lady turned and walked away without another word, leaving Grace to stare after her.
True to his word, Dylan was home early that evening and he instantly began to set the table as Grace silently dished up the dinner. He even made her put her feet up while he washed and dried the pots when they were done, but Grace found that she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Instead she sat staring into the fire, her heart heavy as she thought of the future with a man that she could never love now.
That night for the first time in some while she had a nightmare and once again it was about her father. She was back in her bedroom once more on the fateful night he had had his seizure, but this time instead of seeing her mother standing there holding the candlestick she saw herself holding it and she started awake in a cold sweat as realisation slowly dawned. It hadn’t been her mother who had hit him … it had been her. Shock coursed through her like iced water as it finally all came flooding back. She could remember her father trying to push her back onto the bed and her reaching out blindly for anything to use as a weapon that might stop him. Her hands had closed around the heavy brass candlestick and she had struck out blindly, bringing it down on the side of his head as hard as she could. He had shrieked and reeled away from her as her mother rushed into the room and took the weapon from her. And then he had dropped to the floor and Mabel had come rushing in. But why had they let her believe that it was her mother who had caused him to have a seizure rather than herself?
She glanced at Dylan to check he was still asleep before gingerly lying down again. The last thing she needed now was for him to wake up, but thankfully he slept on while she lay there with her mind racing.
As soon as her lip and eye were healed, she determined to go and speak to Aunt Gertie about what she’d remembered. She was the only one Grace felt she could confide in now.
As it was, Aunt Gertie turned up out of the blue the very next day. She often popped in unannounced but this time she frowned when she saw the state of her niece’s face.
‘Walk into a door, did you?’ she asked sarcastically and Grace lowered her head.
‘Er … something like that.’ And then before Aunt Gertie could say any more she rushed on, ‘I’ve remembered … what happened on the night my father had his seizure.’ Before Gertie could comment she hurriedly told her the rest. When she had finished the woman sighed.
‘I feel awful,’ Grace told her as tears welled in her eyes. ‘It was me who was responsible for his seizure. Why did my mother let me think it was her that had hit him?’
Gertie sat on the sofa and patted the seat at the side of her and Grace went to join her.
‘I already knew,’ Gertie confessed. ‘Do you remember your mother gave you a letter to give to me just after it had happened when you came to stay? Well, she told me what had really occurred but begged me not to tell you. She didn’t want you to feel that what happened to him was your fault.’
‘But it was my fault!’ Grace said miserably.
‘Oh, Grace!’ Gertie shook her head. ‘If he hadn’t come into your room none of this would have happened.’ And then making a decision she went on, ‘I think it’s time you learned a few facts about your father. Did you ever find out where he went to each weekend?’ When Grace shook her head, she went on, ‘He went to brothels. And worse yet they were no ordinary brothels. These were places that sold little girls and boy
s to men with fetishes. Men like your father. The so-called house guests that your mother hated so much were part of the crowd he mixed with. How could he say no to them if they said they wanted to stay? His reputation would have been in ruins if ever any of them had made it known publicly where they went. Why do you think it took Harry so long to make a commitment to Mabel? It was because he knew where the judge went and he was so ashamed that he thought Mabel would never want him if she ever found out that he knew.
‘They had a heart to heart when your father was confined to bed and he told Mabel everything. I already knew because I made it my business to make enquiries about your father when I knew your mother was going to marry him. Why do you think I disliked him so much? And now you’re telling me that you’re going to punish yourself for hitting someone like that? Huh! If you ask me you did the world a favour. He was hardly coming into your room for a game of tiddlywinks at that time of night, was he? Just think what might have happened if you hadn’t stopped him. Furthermore, with the life he lived – his drinking and debauchery – there was every chance he would have had that seizure anyway.’ Her face grew sad then as she squeezed Grace’s hand. ‘Your mother loved you more than life itself, that’s why she was praying that you would never remember. I think she was worried that the police might become involved when they saw his injuries and if that had happened she was prepared to take the blame for it and protect you.
‘But now that you have remembered, I think you should know the truth and put it all behind you. Your father brought the situation about by coming into your room and all you were trying to do was defend yourself – anyone in that position would have done the same. Anyway, from the state of your face I think you have more pressing things to worry about at the moment, my girl. Let the past go, and remember if the present ever gets too hard for you there will always be a home for you and Aiden with me.’
Suddenly everything fell into place: the way her father would come into her room and try to fondle her, the way he would watch her. It was just too horrible to think about and with a muffled cry Grace buried her head in her aunt’s shoulder and sobbed, wondering if she would ever find peace.
Chapter Forty-One
‘Aunt Gertie called in earlier and asked if we’d like to go over to Beehive Cottage and have Christmas dinner with her.’ Grace told Dylan early in December.
He looked up from the paper he was reading and scowled. ‘Why would we want to do that when we have our own place?’
Grace shrugged. ‘I suppose she just thought it would be nice … being family, you know?’
‘She’s not my family,’ Dylan pointed out and turned his attention back to the newspaper. He had been true to his word and since the night he had attacked her he had returned home every evening without visiting the pub, but over the last few days Grace had noticed him growing restless. The hours he could work were severely restricted now due to the dark mornings and evenings and it was so cold that there was nothing he could do outside either. Grace had taken to drying the wet washing over a line that she had strung up in the kitchen. It was no use hanging it outside, it merely froze, but Dylan complained about it constantly.
‘Those binders of his stink!’ He never referred to the baby by his name.
‘How can they when I’ve boiled them?’ Grace would retort. Now she saw the frown she had come to dread cross his face and she shrank inside. Some minutes later Dylan tossed the paper down. ‘I reckon I’ll go into town and pay me mam a visit. All this sitting about doesn’t suit me.’
Grace glanced towards the window. He’d been in less than an hour but already a thick frost had formed and the smell of snow was in the air. Added to that the wind was enough to cut you in two, as she had discovered when she had made a dash down the garden to the privy. He saw her looking and barked, ‘Object to that, do you?’
He seemed intent on starting an argument so Grace shook her head. ‘Not at all, but it’s bitter out there so wrap up warmly.’
‘Such wifely concern.’ His voice was laced with sarcasm as he shrugged his arms into his coat but Grace chose to ignore it. She just wanted him to go now. When he set off she went to the window to watch him and felt a pang of guilt as she saw his stooped shoulders. They were living as a married couple and Grace never denied him his rights when he turned to her in bed, but he’d obviously picked up on the fact that she didn’t enjoy it. She would just lie there woodenly and pray for it to be over. Unbidden a picture of Luke flashed before her eyes and she screwed them tight shut to rid herself of it. The sooner she stopped thinking about him the less it would hurt, she scolded herself, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. With a sigh, she went to the sink and began to wash some baby clothes.
Just as Grace had feared, Dylan went to the inn that night after visiting his mother and it was late when she heard him crash into the kitchen. Chewing her lip she stared towards the bedroom door wondering what sort of a mood he would be in. Hopefully he would drop into the chair and sleep till morning. Aiden suddenly woke and let out a lusty yell and she hopped out of bed and flew to his side hoping to quieten him before Dylan heard. He always got so annoyed when he cried, which wasn’t often, thankfully, as he was a very good baby. With him tucked in her arm she sat on the end of the bed and quickly bared her breast to feed him, but it was too late and seconds later she heard the sound of Dylan’s unsteady footsteps on the stairs. The door flew inward and he glared at her.
‘Spoilin’ him again, are you?’
She smiled at him hoping to lighten his mood. ‘He just needs a feed before I settle him down for the night. Why don’t you go back downstairs in the warm? As soon as I’ve finished I’ll be down to make you some supper.’
He glared at her before reeling about and doing as he was told and Grace let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully by the time she’d settled the baby back down in his crib, Dylan would be asleep. Almost half an hour later she tiptoed down the stairs to find Dylan, as she had hoped, spread out fast asleep in the chair with his mouth gaping open. Yet strangely she felt no relief, only utter despair as she stared down at the man she had married. Too late she had realised what a terrible mistake she’d made but she couldn’t undo it. She was tied to Dylan for life for better or for worse and in that moment, she didn’t know who she felt the sorriest for: herself or him.
Over the last weeks, she had thought on her aunt’s words and had come to terms with what had happened on the night her father had had his seizure. As her aunt had quite rightly pointed out, she hadn’t planned to hurt him and he could well have had the seizure at any time. It had been awful to discover how depraved her father had been, though. Whenever she thought of the many children he must have abused it made a cold shiver run up her spine. But he was gone now and she had Aiden to think about, so she tried to go from day to day as best she could. There could be no changing the past; what was done was done.
Aiden was almost six months old when in mid-March, Grace started to feel ill and realised very quickly that she was with child again. She remembered the symptoms all too well.
Soon after, she broke the news to Dylan, not at all sure how he might take it, but she needn’t have worried, he was thrilled.
‘Oh, my love.’ Rising from the table he tenderly placed his arms about her. ‘What wonderful news. A baby … of our own.’
His words stabbed at her heart like a knife. She’d hoped that with time he would grow to love Aiden but now she knew that it wasn’t going to happen and she kept the baby out of his way as much as possible. The trouble was, it was getting more difficult to do that as Aiden grew and demanded more attention. Still, she chided herself, happen he’ll be a little softer when this one comes along. She could live in hope.
The pregnancy progressed well and after the initial morning sickness wore off, Grace felt as fit as a fiddle and blossomed. Her skin had a glow to it and her eyes and hair shone, although she quickly grew so huge that she almost forgot what her feet looked like and had to take to waddling like a duck.
‘You’ll have a little lass this time,’ old lady Gower predicted as Grace was pegging the washing to the line early in September. Aiden was almost a year old by then and the baby was due in weeks.
Grace giggled. ‘Will I now? And how would you happen to know that?’
The old woman tapped the side of her nose and winked. ‘I just do and it ain’t often I’m wrong. You just mark me words, it’s a lass, I’m tellin’ you.’ And with that she pottered away.
Grace quite hoped that she was right. It would be nice to have one of each. Her eyes went to Aiden who was tottering about on the only small patch of grass that wasn’t taken up with growing vegetables in the garden. Just days before, he had taken his first tentative steps and it seemed now that there was no stopping him. He was chasing a butterfly and laughing and as always when she looked at him, Grace felt a surge of love. Her hand dropped then to the swell of her belly where the baby was wriggling about. Very soon now she would have yet another child to love and she could hardly wait. Dylan had been surprisingly kind to her during the months of her pregnancy and never tired of stroking her belly and speaking of their unborn child.
‘Will you be wanting a boy?’ she asked him once.
Dylan had shaken his head. ‘I don’t mind what it is, if truth be told, just so long as it’s healthy,’ he’d told her and she’d felt comforted.
Now, however, she was aware that there was dinner waiting to be prepared and cooked, so lifting the wash basket she waddled into the kitchen to start it, keeping a watchful eye on Aiden from the window the whole time. Very soon the potatoes were scrubbed and the vegetables had been peeled. She’d made the pastry for the meat pie earlier in the morning so she decided that it was time for a cup of tea. Keeping an eye open for Aiden through the open kitchen door she had just poured the boiling water into the teapot when Dylan’s mother came puffing into the room laden down with a heavy basket. Bronwen had taken to doing some of the heavier shopping for Grace over the last few weeks and Grace was grateful to her.
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