The Shoemaker's Daughter (27 page)

Emily had no-one to unload the goods so she paid the driver handsomely to bring the footwear into the shop. The man touched his cap thanking her in his soft Somerset drawl as he handed her a bill.

‘Mr Clark said you’d see him personally about that.’ He indicated the sheet of paper and Emily nodded.

‘That’s right and thank you once again for your help.’

Emily watched as the man took his leave and then turned back to the room that seemed filled with the Clark merchandise. She would have to get the salesgirls to return to work and have them fill out the stands. None would have Hari’s flair for display, but did that really matter? All that was needed was for the buying public of Swansea to be apprised of her new stock and that would simply involve advertising in the pages of the
Cambrian
newspaper.

She locked up the shop and wearily made her way upstairs, she was tired after the long journey and her nerves were tense as she anticipated the difficulties she might have persuading the people of the town to buy Clark’s shoes.

She rubbed at her forehead, distractedly, she had to admit that she missed Hari’s inventive mind, an eye-catching slogan would have come easily to her, she would know instinctively how to present the goods to the best advantage.

Well, Hari was not here, she was safely ensconced in the respectability of marriage. Respectability, that was a laugh, Hari, who had been sleeping with one man, had now married another.

The large advertisement in the
Cambrian
attracted a crowd of curious people to the emporium. It seemed like the old days when there had been a constant ebb and flow of customers.

Emily made a point of telling people that Mr Clark was world renowned, a boot and shoemaker exporting his goods as far afield as Australia.

The response was better than Emily could have anticipated, the gap left in the market by Hari’s abdication from the job of shoemaking had left the townspeople at a loss what to buy next. And it seemed, Emily thought gratefully, that she had stopped that gap with her new ideas.

At the end of the first week, she was able to mail to Somerset the good news that she needed more stock. She informed Mr Clark that she would be employing her own van and driver who could transport the goods and at the same time pay her outstanding bill.

As she surveyed her satisfyingly empty shelves, Emily congratulated herself that once again, she was back in business. She should feel on top of the world so why was it she felt so alone?

18

Craig Grenfell stared down at his books and read the satisfying balance at the foot of the page. At last he had disposed of his stock of French calf and what’s more he had orders coming in from Northampton, Kendal and Stafford, enough to keep him busy for several months.

With a sigh he closed the books, his business prospects had improved but his personal life seemed empty and dull.

Most days, he spent some time with Edward and his friend’s happiness, though gratifying, was also a thorn in Craig’s side. He concealed his feelings of envy well enough for there were times when he lusted after Edward’s wife, remembering the one time they had been together with some regret for what might have been.

And now he had dallied too long, by his stupidity he had lost both Hari and Emily, neither of them had any time for him and could he blame them? He had trifled with both of them, treating Hari with unforgivable casualness and Emily with complete lack of sensitivity.

What did he really want? he asked himself, Emily as a wife and Hari as some sort of mistress, waiting for him in a scented room ready to offer him pleasure. He was dreaming.

Perhaps he didn’t know the meaning of the word love. He rose from his chair, scraping it back angrily so that it almost fell. Damn it! He would go down to the Burrows, have a cooling mug of ale, forget about women or the lack of them in his life.

He was crossing the road with rapid steps when he bumped into a woman hurrying in the opposite direction. He raised his hat and looked down about to apologize when he saw that Hari was staring up at him, her eyes unreadable.

‘Mrs Morris,’ he said with forced lightness in his voice, ‘I do apologize for my clumsy behaviour.’ He fell into step beside her as Hari moved quickly along the street. ‘May I accompany you to wherever you are going?’

‘Do you have to be so sarcastic all the time?’ Hari said bluntly.

‘I’m sorry,’ Craig said softly, ‘it’s just my way.’ How could he tell Hari that he hated seeing her married to his best friend, that he wanted to take her to bed this minute, to untie her thick dark hair and watch it tumble over her white shoulders? He was no monk, he was a man of flesh and blood and he wanted Hari like hell.

‘Will you come to the Mackworth for some tea with me, Hari?’ he asked. ‘I have a favour to ask you.’

She looked up at him in surprise. ‘A favour, what do you mean?’

He improvised swiftly. ‘I was wondering if I should branch out into the shoe business. Instead of simply selling the leather to the big towns, perhaps I should take samples of the specialized shoes you used to make. We could go into business together.’

He could see that Hari was intrigued in spite of herself. He took her arm and steered her towards the doors of the hotel.

‘Come along, not even Edward would object to us being together in the tea rooms, would he?’

‘Of course not,’ Hari said quickly, ‘Edward knows that when I made my vows I meant them.’

He held the chair for her to sit down and speculated how different Hari looked from the first time he’d seen her in the slum area of World’s End. Then she had been simply dressed with a cotton blouse covering her rounded breasts and a long drab skirt that did nothing to conceal the curve of her hips. Her hair had been a tangle of curls and she had looked at him with frightened but defiant eyes.

Now she was a lady of fashion, she wore a crinoline nipped in at the waist, high at the neck, and she looked equally as lovely as the first time he’d set eyes on her.

‘How are you enjoying being the wife of a respectable accountant?’ he asked with a return to his bantering tone. Hari gave him a level look.

‘Please don’t be so patronizing, Craig, there’s no need of it.’

‘You’re right,’ he said quickly. ‘Well, how about you making shoes again, do you like the idea?’

‘Of course I do but why should I work with you when I can work for myself?’ Hari pointed out. ‘I had a partner before and it didn’t turn out very well.’

Craig leaned back in his chair. ‘Your partner is doing very nicely for herself now,’ he said.

‘Yes, I’d heard that Emily was running a large emporium, buying in shoes from Mr Clark in Somerset. Good luck to her.’

‘But aren’t you just a little envious?’ Craig asked.

Hari shook her head. ‘No, that’s not what I want to do, I want to design and make individual shoes just as I did before and I really think I’d be better off working alone.’

‘With Edward’s money?’ Craig asked challengingly. Hari looked up at him startled. Craig smiled.

‘You hadn’t considered that aspect, had you? You’ll need capital to get started and I can offer it to you as a business proposition, I can also take your designs and make them known all over the country. Why don’t you think about it?’

‘I already have a good reputation,’ Hari replied quickly, ‘Charlie has seen to that in his own small way. I think that now any bank would be ready to advance me money, don’t you?’

‘Probably,’ Craig said. He leaned towards her persuasively. ‘But no bank could offer you the outlets that I could. I travel all over the country these days, from Bristol to Northampton, just think, your designs could become famous.’

Hari took the teapot that the waiter placed before her and, as she poured for both of them, Craig knew she was giving herself time to think.

‘I’ll have to talk to Eddie,’ she said at last, ‘I couldn’t do anything that my husband didn’t approve of.’

‘I wouldn’t expect it.’ Craig smiled inwardly, he had won. Edward was not about to deny his wife any reasonable request she might make and he had spoken often enough of Hari’s desire to return to work. What better than that she should work with Edward’s oldest friend?

Did Edward know what had happened between Hari and his best friend? Probably not, in any case all that was long before Edward’s marriage to Hari, best forgotten. But could he forget ever? Craig doubted it.

He leaned forward. ‘Have you any designs ready?’ He smiled, ‘I would lay odds that you have not been idle, I expect there are sheets and sheets of paper covered with your ideas.’

‘You seem to know me well,’ Hari said and Craig resisted the urge to tell her that he would very much like to know her much better. Hari would not approve of flirting.

‘I’m right then?’ Craig found himself warming to the idea of promoting Hari’s work; specialized shoes were always in demand especially by the rich young ladies who were anxious to come out in style.

‘Yes,’ Hari smiled, ‘but don’t sound so smug about it.’

‘Then I may take some of your ideas when I go away in a few weeks’ time?’ he asked and he felt triumphant as Hari nodded.

‘I don’t suppose it would do any harm.’ She put down her cup and rose to her feet. ‘Now I must talk to Eddie, if he agrees, then we have a bargain.’

He rose, ‘Fair enough, Hari.’ After a moment, he held out his hand and then his fingers were curling around Hari’s. She drew her hand away and Craig knew then, without doubt, that he had lost Hari for good, she had never been the sort of woman who went easily into an illicit relationship and now that she was married anything other than business between them was out of the question.

Strangely enough, Craig found himself wanting her even more, she was a beautiful woman and one of principle. ‘Edward is a lucky man,’ he said softly.

He sank back into his seat, watching as Hari’s small figure disappeared through the doors of the hotel. At least, he thought ruefully, he had Hari as a partner if nothing else and it seemed he would have to be grateful for that.

Edward returned home from the office, his face flushed, perspiration beading his forehead. Hari moved towards him quickly and took his coat.

‘Eddie, what’s wrong, you look awful!’ She led him into the sitting-room, calling to the maid to bring some iced coffee.

‘I think you have a temperature, my lovely.’ She rested the back of her hand against his forehead. ‘I’d better get the doctor.’

Edward shook his head. ‘No, it’s all right, I get these bouts of fever, something to do with being abroad when I was a child, it always passes after a few days in bed.’

‘I’ll find you one of my herbal remedies for curing a fever then,’ Hari said quickly, ‘but after you’ve had your coffee, I’d like you to go up to bed.’

‘Yes, mam.’ Edward hugged her around the waist, resting his head against the softness of her breasts.

‘I love you, Hari, don’t ever leave me, will you?’

‘There’s soft you talk sometimes, Eddie, you are my husband for ever and ever, of course I’ll never leave you.’

When Edward was settled in bed, Hari brought a bowl of cool water and bathed his face.

‘That feels wonderful,’ he said, ‘I’m so grateful to you, Hari.’

‘Nonsense! No need for gratitude between husband and wife, you’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?’

‘Like a shot,’ he said softly, ‘I’d wrap you up in velvet and keep you all to myself if I could.’

This did not seem the time to tell Edward about her encounter with Craig. Instead Hari searched for her book of herbal remedies and flicked through the pages.

‘Yes, this is it, I’ll get some borage and mix it with a little bugloss, that will calm down the fever and strengthen your heart.’

‘My heart is yours, my lady,’ Edward said with mock severity and Hari smiled.

‘Well then, it will do as I say.’ She sat beside him. ‘The heart begins to beat more swiftly when you have a fever and it must be calmed, trust me, I will take care of you, I’ll have you well in no time.’

Edward took her hand. ‘I have complete faith in you.’

‘Right then, let me get on with it, talking about a remedy is no good, I have to make it and you have to drink it.’

‘Bully,’ Edward said trying to smile though it was clear by the flush on his cheeks that he was in some discomfort.

In the kitchen, Hari ground the roots and leaves of the herbs together and then poured hot water over them. The mixture would need to stand for an hour and then it would be ready to strain. She wished she could hurry the process for Edward’s sake but she would just have to be patient.

She sighed staring down at the jug of liquid, thinking of when she had nursed Emily, how different her life had been then.

Her thoughts switched to her meeting with Craig. Why did he still have the power to stir her blood? She was a married woman, she loved Edward, he was a dear sweet man and yet Craig’s touch on her hand was enough to send her into a turmoil of emotion.

But it would go no further, she had done wrong once, she had allowed her desires to overcome her common sense. Now she was a respectably married woman and she would remain faithful to Edward whatever it cost her.

Later, as she gave Edward the soothing remedy and settled him back against the sheets, she felt affection for him overwhelm her. ‘You should rest more easy now, my lovely.’ She covered him with the sheets. ‘Try to sleep a little, sleep is very healing, mind.’

Downstairs, she drew out her sketchbook and began to make rapid drawings. It was as if the meeting with Craig had inspired her, her pen flew across the pages and she was unaware of time until she realized quite suddenly that the light had faded.

She put down her book guiltily, it was time she saw to Edward.

He was awake and some of the fever had abated. The hectic flush had left his cheeks and he smiled when he saw her.