Honey's Farm (24 page)

For a moment, anger with Will filled Eline. How could he be so thoughtless, so careless with his passion? He had no doubt aroused hopes in Gwyneth that could never be fulfilled. It was cruel of him to have shown her happiness only to have taken it away from her again.

The ornate doorway of the Cardiff tearooms was only a few steps away now. Eline paused and took a deep breath. She must not meet Will with the tumult of anger and jealousy and love – yes, love – warring within her; she was simply saying farewell to a friend.

Don't fool yourself!
The inner voice was insistent.
You want him as much as you ever did
, the voice said.

The inner voice was right; she wanted to forgive Will, but some perverse sense of anger wanted to make him suffer first.

He rose when she entered the room, and she saw no-one but him. Across the. white-covered tables, the chatter of people and the clinking of china, she saw only Will, and her heart seemed to stop beating.

But she appeared serene as she moved towards him and sat with superb composure in the elegant chair that he held for her.

‘I was beginning to think you weren't coming after all,' Will said softly.

Eline looked at him with deliberate coolness. The anger was still with her at her thoughts of his betrayal with Gwyneth Parks; she just couldn't help it.

‘We could have said our goodbyes at the emporium,' she said. ‘Mrs Bell was very reluctant to see me go.'

‘Damn Mrs Bell!' Will leant towards her. ‘I wanted to say goodbye to you properly, in private.' He glanced round him ruefully. ‘Or as private as you would allow.'

Eline made no comment, but there was a happy glow within her that she couldn't deny. She looked up as Will poured her a cup of tea; his manner was proprietary and she smiled a little to herself.

‘I promised Mrs Bell I'd come back in two weeks' time,' she said. Her eyes met Will's, and the light in them made her colour rise.

‘I love you, Eline,' he said. ‘And I know you love me. We must be able to find our way back together.'

‘Perhaps,' Eline conceded, ‘but don't try to rush things, Will, please.'

He put a small velvet box on the table. ‘No ties, but I want you to have this small gift,' he said. ‘I wish I could say it was my mother's, but my mother had nothing but poverty all her life.'

Eline touched his hand impulsively. She knew how his whole family had died from ‘Yellow Jack', the fever that had swept Swansea some years ago, and the thought of Will as a child left alone tugged at her heart-strings.

She opened the box slowly. Inside was a gold ring set with a single pearl. ‘It's beautiful, Will,' she said, ‘but you can't afford to be buying such gifts, not the way things are at the moment.'

‘I know,' Will said, ‘but I wanted so much to give you something to make you think of me once in a while.' He laughed. ‘I'll probably spend the next few months working for nothing to pay for it, but that's my problem.'

Eline was touched. Her heart felt heavy with love and compassion. She was spiteful and jealous and unforgiving – but how could she change that? He had hurt her; there was no getting away from it, and the hurt went deep.

She closed the box and placed it in her bag. ‘I'll treasure it, Will,' she said softly.

‘But not wear it?' Will's voice was harsh with pain, and Eline felt a stab of satisfaction. He should be hurting; he had hurt her, hadn't he?

‘Eline, are you never going to soften your attitude?' he asked impatiently. ‘I didn't murder anyone, you know, I simply slept with a woman. Your husband had a mistress and you accepted it as part of man's nature. I did nothing of that sort; we weren't even married, Eline, so why are you passing such harsh judgement on me?'

She was silent for a long moment. ‘You are right,' she said at last. ‘I could forgive Joe because I didn't love him.'

His face softened; the tenseness went from his shoulders. ‘You do love me, then?' he asked, and his hand reached out, rested warm on hers.

‘Yes, I love you, God help me,' Eline said in a whisper. She rose to her feet. ‘I have to go, I've got to catch a train. I'll see you in two weeks?'

‘Before that,' Will said. ‘I'm coming to Swansea to talk business with Hari the day after tomorrow. Will I see you then?'

Eline smiled. ‘Yes, I'd like that, Will. I'd like it very much.'

He rose and accompanied her to the door, and she looked at him in surprise. ‘Where are you going?' she asked, and he looked down at her, a smile in his eyes.

‘You don't think I'm going to let you walk to the station alone, do you? Some discerning man might snap you up on the way.'

Eline laughed. It was good to laugh with Will again, and good to walk along with him at her side. It was time, after all, for forgiveness; she'd carried on the feeling of hurt pride for far too long.

She looked up at Will and then deliberately tucked her arm in his. He smiled and drew her close, and together they walked in the sunlight beneath the falling leaves.

‘The gallery is doing well.' Calvin Temple smiled down at Eline as she stood in the largest room, staring round at the paintings.

Eline returned his smile; she felt good, somehow refreshed. She had spent a good night dreaming about Will, and the ring he'd given her was hung safely on a gold chain around her neck. She had relished the closeness of their last meeting, and now she felt ready to face the world.

She hugged the thought to her that he was coming home tomorrow; she would see him, be with him, and that, she realized, was very important to her. The days they had spent together in Cardiff had made her understand how much she loved and needed him. Will was part of her life's blood, and whatever he had done, it was past and over with. And what had he done, except make one mistake?

‘Did you hear me, Eline?' Calvin's voice held amusement. ‘I've been accused of many things, but never of being boring.'

‘I'm sorry.' Eline put her hand on his arm. Calvin was a personable, pleasant man; not handsome, as Will was, of course, but he had charm and Eline liked him enormously.

‘You've done well here,' she said, looking round her. ‘You have some fine paintings in, and it's clear from the books that they are turning over very nicely.'

‘We never have anything for too long,' Calvin agreed, ‘which is very fortunate for us.'

‘More due to your efforts than to good fortune, I think,' Eline said quickly.

‘You know something, Eline?' Calvin said. ‘You and I make a very good pair; we should be partners in more ways than one, don't you think?' He was smiling, and Eline pretended to slap his hand.

‘Don't tease,' she said amiably. ‘It's not kind to trifle with a lady's affections.'

‘Who said I'm teasing or trifling, come to that?' Calvin had trapped her hand, and now he raised it to his lips.

‘I would be more than honoured if you would accept me as a suitor.' He was serious now, and Eline was at a loss for words.

‘If you had a father, I would ask him most humbly for his daughter's hand in marriage,' Calvin continued. ‘As it is, I can only ask the lady herself.'

‘I'll consider it,' Eline said, in a spirit of lightness, doing her best to distract him, ‘but for now, let's get on with the business in hand. I thought you wanted me to arrange the window for you.'

Calvin sighed. ‘It's my burden never to be taken seriously,' he said, but the mocking gleam was back in his eye.

‘And serve you right,' Eline said. ‘You are far too charming for your own good.'

It was later, when Eline was leaving the gallery, that she came face to face with Nina Parks. Eline smiled in greeting; old scores were long forgotten. Or at least she'd thought they were, but Nina was looking at her with hostility in every line of her face.

‘What's wrong?' Eline said quickly.

Nina moved closer, keeping her voice low. ‘You don't know that you are coming between my daughter and the man she loves?' she asked.

Eline stepped back as though she'd been slapped. ‘I know they . . . went together once,' she said hesitantly, ‘and I'm sorry for Gwyneth, I am; but there's nothing I can do about it, is there?'

‘You can keep out of his life,' Nina said, ‘give my girl a chance. She loves him; and, with you out of the way, he'd love her too, especially when he knows.'

Eline's mouth was suddenly dry. ‘What do you mean?' Her voice was scarcely more than a whisper, and suddenly Nina's hostility vanished.

‘You poor, foolish girl,' she said. ‘He's deceived you just as he's deceived my Gwyneth.'

Eline took her arm and drew her away from the gallery. ‘Tell me, Nina,' she said humbly, ‘tell me, what it is you are trying to say?'

‘It wasn't only the once that Will Davies slept with Gwyneth,' Nina said. ‘Oh, damn these men!'

‘How can I believe you?' Eline felt as though the ground was moving beneath her feet, that a gaping chasm was opening before her.

‘My girl is expecting Will Davies's child,' Nina said baldly. ‘Sorry, but there's no other way of saying it.'

‘No!' Eline said, the word dragged from dry lips. ‘I don't believe you, it can't be true.'

‘It's true, all right,' Nina said, ‘and what's more, Gwyneth came up to that awful place where you and him were working. Going to tell him she was, then she saw you together in some posh tearooms.'

Nina's face softened. ‘I'm sorry for you, girl, just as my Gwyneth was sorry for you. She saw how Will loved you, and how besotted you were with him, and she just came away without saying anything about the baby – going to face it all alone, she was, and I can't allow that.'

Eline felt physically ill. She felt as though she was going to faint, and she put her hand on the wall to steady herself.

‘Come in by here with me,' Nina was saying. ‘You need a cup of sweet tea; it'll make you feel better.'

‘No, I'm all right,' Eline protested. ‘I don't need a cup of tea, I just want . . .' What did she want? She wanted Nina to vanish, for her words to be unspoken; she wanted it to be yesterday, when she was with Will, happy in the belief that he loved her.

Nina drew her the few yards along the road to her house, and then Eline was seated in the kitchen, the familiar kitchen where once she had lived in matrimony with Joe Harries, the house that now belonged to Nina Parks, Joe's mistress.

‘Why do you Parks women always want to wreck my life?' Eline asked as Nina made the tea, swirling the water round the brown china pot.

‘I don't know what the answer to that one is,' Nina said, ‘but whoever is to blame, our paths keep crossing, that's for sure, and it never brings any good, I'll say that.'

She handed Eline the tea, laced with honey, and then poured herself a cup of the fragrant weak brew.

Eline looked round the kitchen. Little had changed; the same curtains hung at the windows and the same china stood on the dresser against the wall. She had left all this behind, moved on, made a new life for herself. But it was all emptiness, and Eline wished she had stayed on Honey's Farm and never come to Oystermouth in the first place.

There was the sound of footsteps overhead, and with a sense of dread, Eline realized that Gwyneth was at home. ‘I've got to go,' she said, but then Gwyneth was in the kitchen. If Eline had doubted the truth of Nina's words, there were no doubts now: Gwyneth was pale and drawn, and there were lines of fatigue around her eyes. Gwyneth was with child all right.

‘What are you doing here?' she said to Eline, and then without waiting for a reply turned to her mother. ‘Give us a cup of tea, Mam.'

Gwyneth sank down at the table, her elbows on the scrubbed surface, supporting her chin. She seemed to be sapped of all her fight, all her spirit. Strangely, Eline felt sorry for her.

‘You've told her, then, Mam?' Gwyneth said. ‘There was no need. I've decided to go to Mrs Kenny.'

‘No!' The word exploded from Nina's lips. ‘I'll have no murdering of innocent babies under my roof.'

‘What else can I do?' Gwyneth said, and the hopelessness in her voice cut into Eline like a knife.

‘Tell him,' Eline said softly. ‘You must talk to Will; your mother's right.'

Eline had heard of Mrs Kenny, and it horrified her to think what a desperate way out of her problem Gwyneth was considering.

‘Let Will face up to his responsibilities. It's the least he can do.' She heard the bitterness in her own voice, but she couldn't hide it.

Eline swallowed hard. She couldn't yet come to terms with the shock of the situation. Gwyneth Parks, expecting Will's child – it just wasn't bearable.

She rose to her feet, and it was as though she was someone else, as though she was an outsider looking in on a tragedy happening to other people.

‘He'll be coming to Swansea tomorrow to see Mrs Grenfell.' She heard her own voice as though from far away. ‘Let him know about the . . . the baby.'

Gwyneth looked at her with a dawning of hope in her eyes. ‘But I thought you and him – I thought . . .'

‘We are nothing to each other,' Eline said, ‘though I did think that at least we were friends. It seems even in that I was wrong.'

She moved to the door as though in a dream, and she didn't hear Nina's voice calling anxiously behind her. She left the house and walked across the road to where the bay curved inwards. A gentle sea was running, and Eline thought distractedly that it would have been more appropriate if there had been a storm, with thunder and lightning and huge waves crashing against the rocks.

She put up her hand and yanked the fragile chain from around her neck. It broke in two pieces, as weak as the promises Will had made her, thought Eline numbly.

She looked at the ring for a long moment. ‘Pearls for tears,' she said softly, and then she raised her arm and threw the ring as far into the water as she could. It disappeared into the waves, scarcely rippling the surface.