The Shoemaker's Daughter (7 page)

‘Well done, Hari,’ he said, ‘I think he believes that your honour is safe with your dullard cousin from Neath.’

Hari felt the colour rise to her cheeks. ‘It’s not funny, mind!’ she said sharply. ‘It’s just as well that mam’s here with us, isn’t it, or I’d have no honour, at least not in the eyes of the people around World’s End.’

‘Would that matter?’ Craig said. ‘I didn’t think you were the sort to care about other people’s opinions.’

He was so innocent of the ways of the world that Hari just shook her head in amazement.

‘Don’t you realize I’d be a target for all the men living in World’s End who are just looking for a loose woman to amuse themselves with?’ She shrugged. ‘My chances of making an honest marriage or even of keeping up my business would be less than dust without the good will of my neighbours. What do you think keeps the petty thieves and the people who run a bawdy house away from my door?’

‘I see.’ The smile had gone from Craig’s eyes, ‘I’m sorry, I suppose I didn’t stop to think.’

Hari shrugged. ‘You don’t know how we people of World’s End live,’ she said quietly, ‘so perhaps you would do well to stay indoors out of the way of any trouble.’

‘My dear, Hari, don’t you think I’ve learned anything about human nature from my stay at the prison?’ he said softly.

She inclined her head. ‘Maybe you learned about the ways of criminals but we at World’s End are not all criminals, there are good and bad everywhere.’ She glanced up at him meaningfully, ‘Even in the Grenfell family, mind.’

She stared at him for a long moment wondering if in her indignation she had hurt his feelings, but his eyes were narrowed and she could not read his expression.

‘I must see to mam,’ she said quickly. She brought a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with water from the kettle, there were chores to be done before she could even begin to make a meal for the three of them.

She took a towel and hanging it over her arm, she made her way upstairs, her mind spinning with troubled thoughts. Perhaps it was time Craig Grenfell looked elsewhere for lodgings, there were plenty to be had. Perhaps she was being a complete fool helping Craig Grenfell, was she allowing herself to be taken in by the first handsome man to come into her life?

‘Hello, mam, you’re looking perky this evening.’ Hari thrust her worries into the back of her mind and helped her mother to sit up against the pillows.

‘Come on then, have a nice wash, it will make you feel better.’

Win Morgan sat up and stared at her daughter. ‘I wish you’d stop treating me like a child, Angharad,’ she said irritably. ‘I may be going deaf and it’s true I’m not in the most robust of health but I’m not daft.’

‘I don’t know what you mean, mam.’ Hari damped a piece of flannel and carefully washed her mother’s lined face. ‘Here’s the towel, I’ll see to you as quickly as I can, it’s a bit colder this evening.’

‘You’ve got a man in,’ her mother said suddenly. ‘Don’t bother to deny it now.’ Her voice was stern. ‘I saw him when I went down to make myself a cup of tea, just letting himself out the door he was.’

‘Mam!’ Hari said quickly, ‘I’ve told you not to try to get down stairs on your own, not with your legs so bad.’

‘
Duw
, girl, what do you expect me to do when you’re in the shop most of the time? Anyway, you know I have my good days and when I do I like to get up and sit by the fire for a while.’

Hari sighed, it wasn’t much to ask to be able to sit before the comfort of the fire and she was well aware of the frustration her mother must suffer lying in bed all day.

‘Anyway, who is this man?’ Win Morgan rubbed her face briskly with the towel bringing a spurious colour to her cheeks.

Hari decided that her mother must be told the truth, as she had pointed out, there was nothing wrong with her mind.

‘Well, don’t go mad if I tell you all about him,’ Hari said firmly, ‘just hear me out before you pass any judgements.’

‘I’ve never known a girl to make such a fuss over talking to her mother, I’m losing my temper with you, Angharad, for heaven’s sake get on with it.’

‘His name is Craig Grenfell,’ Hari said, folding the damp towel neatly as though it was the most important thing in the world.

‘One of them toffs from the other side of town?’ Win Morgan said in disbelief. ‘What in the name of heaven is he doing here in our house?’

‘He’s escaped from prison,’ Hari said quickly, ‘but he hadn’t done anything, it was someone else who cheated and lied and Craig was the one to take the blame.’

‘My dear Angharad,’ her mother said sharply, ‘don’t you know that’s what they all say? I don’t suppose there’s one prisoner in Swansea Jail who would admit he was guilty. The man’s making a fool of you. In any case,’ she warmed to her subject, ‘we can’t afford to feed ourselves half the time let alone a stranger, what can you be thinking about? You just can’t trust these toffs, mind.’

‘His cousin, Emily Grenfell,’ Hari ignored her mother’s outburst, ‘she will prove he is innocent, you’ll see.’

Win Morgan looked at her daughter shrewdly. ‘You are falling in love with him!’ It was an accusation and, quickly, Hari shook her head.

‘Don’t be so soft, mam, he’s not one of us, I know that as well as you do.’

‘Aye, your head knows it but does your heart understand, Angharad?’ She sighed. ‘I don’t want you hurt, love, you know how much I love you even though I don’t always show it. Be sensible, send this man packing.’

‘Listen now, mam,’ Hari said briskly, avoiding her mother’s eyes, ‘we won’t talk any more about it just now. I’ve got us a nice bit of meat pie for supper and a lovely fresh bit of bread, I expect you’re starving.’

‘No good changing the subject,’ her mother said slowly, ‘don’t go doing anything daft,
cariad
, this man may be as innocent as you say but his kind use people like us, remember that.’

Hari sighed, ‘I’ll remember, mam.’ She moved to the door and glanced back, warming to her mother, it was not often she expressed affection or even concern, she was a hard woman who had lived a difficult life but now and then a little softness crept into Win Morgan’s eyes that betrayed the real woman beneath the stern exterior.

‘Don’t worry,’ Hari said, ‘I can look after myself, I’ve been taught well by my mam and dad.’

She hurried downstairs, the water in the bowl tipping a little on the bare treads. Hari was tired, she had worked all day and then walked over to the other side of town and back and now there was supper to get. Tears came to her eyes and, as she entered the kitchen, she stumbled a little.

Craig came to her side and relieved her of the bowl. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Is your mother worse?’

Hari shook her head. ‘No, it’s nothing, I’m just so tired, that’s all.’

He led her to a chair. ‘You sit there and tell me what you want done, I’m not exactly helpless you know.’

‘The supper,’ Hari said, ‘there’s meat pie in the pantry and the bread has to be cut.’

Craig moved about the room lightly, he was surprisingly deft for a big man and as Hari watched him cut the bread into silly thin slices, she smiled.

‘We won’t save money the way you do things,’ she said softly, ‘thin bread takes extra butter, thick slices are more suitable.’

‘I see,’ Craig’s dark eyes were alight with humour, ‘give me time, I’ll learn how things should be done.’

He cut the pie and placed a slice on one of the earthenware plates on the table. ‘Here, have yours,’ he said, ‘perhaps with some food inside you you’ll feel better. You are far too thin.’

Hari shook her head. ‘I’ll take mam’s up first, then I can have mine in peace,’ she said.

When she returned to the kitchen, she sank down at the table and tried to eat a little of the food, conscious that Craig was watching her.

‘When my name is cleared,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘I’d like to set you up in better premises, supply you with as much leather as you need and get you an apprentice or two.’

She glanced at him sharply. ‘You don’t owe me anything,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I manage my life quite nicely on my own thanks.’

‘Don’t be so prickly.’ Craig leaned over the table towards her, his hands almost touching hers. Hari looked away.

‘You’ll soon forget this part of your life,’ she said to him, ‘it will be like a bad dream.’

‘Not all of it.’ His hand rested on hers, ‘You are a wonderful woman, Hari Morgan, and I won’t forget you, don’t you worry.’

Hari looked into his dark eyes, they seemed to hold her mesmerized as he leaned closer, his mouth only inches from her own.

Hari pulled away from him. ‘That’s enough of that,’ she said trying to smile, ‘remember who you are, Mr Grenfell, and who I am.’

She rose from the table. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she said, ‘I’m so tired I can hardly think straight.’

He moved to her side. ‘Hari,’ his voice was soft, persuasive, ‘you are so lovely.’ His hands rested on her shoulders and she could feel the warmth of them through the coarse material of her bodice.

‘There are rules if you are to stay here,’ she said, forcing a note of firmness into her voice. ‘You do not make advances to me, you don’t even touch me. Remember I’m no trollop to while away the hours for you.’

He did not release her, he drew her closer until her breasts were pressed against him. He stared down at her for a long moment, his mouth very close to her own.

Hari knew she should move away but she couldn’t, she wanted him to kiss her, to know the feel of a man’s lips against her own, it was only natural to feel that way, wasn’t it?

He let her go so suddenly that she almost fell. ‘You’re right, Hari.’ He sighed. ‘And you are a good woman, more’s the pity.’

He turned away and stood before the fire, his back towards her and Hari leaned against the wall for a moment trying to recover her breath.

‘
Nos da
,’ she said softly, ‘good night Mr Grenfell.’ Hari lay awake for a long time, staring into the darkness. How she had wanted him to kiss her, she didn’t know what it was like to be kissed and Craig Grenfell was such a handsome man. But that was not all and Hari knew it, her mother was right, her head was filled with common sense, but her emotions were running riot.

Well, tomorrow he must go, she would tell Mr Grenfell first thing in the morning that he must make other arrangements and then he would be out of her life forever. And somehow the prospect did not make her happy.

5

Morning came bright and clear with a pale dawn streaking the skies. Hari sat up in bed and stared through the window to where the light from the street lamp paled into insignificance against the rising sun. She stepped out of bed, careful not to wake her mother and quietly washed with the cold water from the china jug.

Hari shivered a little as she drew on her underclothes, then her thick skirt and bodice, lastly pulling the welcoming warmth of the shawl around her slim shoulders. As she stood barefoot on the cold boards, she comforted herself with the thought that soon it would be spring, daffodils would raise proud trumpets to nod in the soft breezes and in the fields beyond the town lambs would be born.

But today she had come to a decision, she would tell Craig Grenfell to leave her house, his presence was beginning to disturb her, disrupt her life. She was ready now to admit that her mother was right, Hari was falling in love with Craig. It would not be easy telling him to go but it was something she needed to do for her own peace of mind.

The fire gleamed in the grate, the kettle was boiling on the hob, steam issuing from the black lips of the spout and of Craig there was no sign.

Hari made tea and sat at the table, her hands curled around the warmth of the cup. She felt unrested, her eyes heavy as she stared into the fire for the truth was that she had slept very little and, when she did drift off, dreams of being in Craig’s arms tormented her.

Where was he now? Fear for his safety warred within her. Her mind worried the problem of where would he find lodgings, how could she summon the strength to put him out of the only refuge he had?

Hari rose, resolutely putting the thoughts behind her. She moved into the workshop but, for once, the prospect of work did not please her. There were the unfinished shoes for Emily Grenfell lying on the bench, the amethysts agleam against the softness of the leather. The soft pumps of pigskin were made for pampered feet that trod not on cold stone or wooden boards but on rich carpets and Hari felt resentment fill her. Emily had everything she wanted, even Craig.

Yesterday, Miss Emily Grenfell had momentarily been at a loss, wanting to know where her fiancé was and realizing to her dismay that his safety was in the hands of the shoemaker’s daughter.

Emily had taken her revenge swiftly, severing the ties that had long been between the Grenfells and the Morgans. But serve her right, she had cut off her own source of fine delicate shoes, she would not find their like again, not in Swansea.

Hari prided herself that while she had the skill and the strength of any shoemaker, she also had a flair for design that most cobblers lacked, Emily would learn that lesson to her cost.

She set to work on Emily’s shoes, pride insisted that she finish the job she had begun even if she was never paid for it. She stitched the soft leather uppers into place, then dampened the soles to make them more pliable. She glanced round her, there were boots to be tapped, heavy working boots belonging to Cleg the Coal with the sole hanging off like a ragged tongue. She would attend to those next for Cleg needed his boots for work, he only owned the one pair.

She heard sounds from the kitchen and she drew in a sharp breath, Craig must have returned.

The back door leading to the yard opened and Hari heard her mother’s voice, sounding strangely weary, calling to her.

‘What’s wrong, mam?’ Hari was at her mother’s side in an instant. ‘
Duw
. There’s pale you are, you shouldn’t be out of bed, mind.’