Family Shadows Read online

‘No, I don’t! You’re just thinking of their feelings, and not wanting to hurt them. You never want to hurt anybody, do you, my ’andsome?’ she said, her voice slipping easily into an exaggerated accent to tease him.

  He laughed. ‘Well, I’m not like Ran or Walter, always ready to let fly with words and fists if necessary. Our Jack was never backwards in coming forward if a fight was in the offing, neither. Now young Bradley is starting to taste his oats – and there’s a hothead if I ever saw one.’

  He avoided her eyes. Ten years back, when Morwen was expecting Bradley, he and Venetia had been expecting a child too, both women falling soon after the honeymoon, and happily anticipating that there’d be another playmate for Jack and Annie’s baby Sammie.

  But Venetia had miscarried badly, tearing her insides, and they had learned to their anguish that there was never going to be another child. Morwen had encouraged them to spend long hours with her own baby son, wisely thinking it the best therapy. Despite Venetia’s first resistence to the idea, she knew she couldn’t close her eyes to other women’s children forever, and she gave in.

  To her own surprise, it had gone a long way towards healing the pain, and had forged a special bond between herself and Morwen’s baby. In time, both Freddie and Venetia had not only grown fiercely attached to the boy, but were oblivious to his faults. And Bradley adored them too, seeing in their country estate the epitome of all that a gracious family life should be.

  ‘How will he take it, do you think?’ Venetia said now.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Freddie answered, knowing that Bradley would be uppermost on his wife’s mind, as well as his. ‘It’s summat I don’t rightly care to think about too deeply.’

  Venetia leaned over and kissed her man’s cheek. ‘Let’s forget about it for now and just enjoy being with the horses. Then we’ll go indoors and have a nightcap before bed.’

  The horses were their life, and could always be guaranteed to cheer them up. They smiled at one another in perfect harmony. And Freddie marvelled briefly at the memory of the sensitive young man he had once been, and then the glorious realization that the loving and fumbling discovery of two people who truly loved one another was all the aphrodisiac that was needed.

  He owed Venetia more than words could ever say. His only regret was that through no fault of their own, he couldn’t give her the child she still craved. Not that she ever mentioned it now. She had her man and her beloved horses, but Freddie knew her too well, and there was still a longing inside her that hadn’t been fulfilled. The way she glowed and came alive whenever young Bradley Wainwright came to visit them at Hocking Hall was proof enough of that.

  * * *

  The object of Freddie’s thoughts was at that very moment being severely upbraided by his mother. Subdued and chastened, Luke and Emma stood by, heads down in disgrace, while Bradley brazened it out as usual.

  ‘How dare you come to Grandma Bess’s house in such a state!’ Morwen raged. ‘You’re a disgrace to the whole, and what the townsfolk must have thought when they saw you traipsing down the hillside, I can’t think. You look like clowns, the lot of you.’

  She paused for breath, and Bradley howled in protest as she shook him, sending more clay dust flying around the pristine drawing room, where it caught the sunlight and hung about in sparkling dust motes.

  ‘You said we could go to Killigrew Clay,’ he yelled. ‘We were only having fun on the sky tips. There’s nothing else to do up there, ’cept listen to the boring clayworkers talking. And Walter’s always too busy to talk to us.’

  Morwen avoided her mother’s eyes. They’d all been clayworkers once, her entire family, beholden to the Killigrews for pennies and their very existence, including every bit of food they put in their bellies. And this – this pompous, spoiled, precocious little brat considered the clayworkers boring. She was tempted to slap him soundly, and only Bess’s hand on her arm stopped her. He didn’t know, she reminded herself. He couldn’t know how it had been all those years ago…

  She snapped at the trio of children. ‘The three of you can go upstairs this minute and into the bath. Sophie will see to you.’

  Bradley howled again. ‘No! I hate Sophie. She scrubs me raw, and anyway, I’m too old to be bathed by a servant!’

  This time, Morwen couldn’t stop herself, and she cuffed him around the ear, making matters worse by scattering the white powdery dust from his hair over the tea tray, and causing Bess to mutter beneath her breath.

  ‘You’ll do as you’re damn well told,’ she said, and then she paused as she glimpsed the real misery in the boy’s eyes, and knew it would be a bad thing to humiliate him so when he was on the brink of growing up.

  He may be only nine years old, but he had a remarkably mature head on those young shoulders, for all his rebellious nature. And he was a well-built boy, who would hate the attentions of a woman servant. For a moment, she remembered how she had once had the same feeling with her brother Freddie, when he was just leaving boyhood behind, and knew that she couldn’t shame Bradley.

  ‘All right,’ she conceded. ‘Sophie will fill the bath with hot water, and you will wash yourself while she brushes the dust out of these disgusting clothes. Luke and Emma will wait until you’re finished. But be quick, or I shall scrub you myself, and I’ll be no less gentle than Sophie.’

  ‘Will you bath us, Mammie?’ Emma said, her voice quavering. ‘I don’t like Sophie, either.’

  ‘This is meant to be a punishment, not a pleasure—’

  ‘I’ll do it, my lamb,’ Bess said quickly. ‘’Tis a long while since I’ve had the enjoyment of bathing young ’uns, and then ’twas only in a tin tub. I promise your Grandma will be gentle with ’ee.’

  ‘You spoil them,’ Morwen said, when Sophie had taken the three children off to the splendid bathroom in Killigrew House, with firm instructions that her only duties were to run the baths and take their clothes away, and brush them clean enough for wearing home again.

  Morwen let out her breath in a long sigh. Life with Bradley always seemed to be verging on a battlefield nowadays, but she had to admit that he was definitely feeling his feet in an adult world. He took after Ran for height and breadth. And at least this little battle had now been dealt with, and her mother had already sent for someone to take the tea tray away and to bring some more. Bess made little fuss over the incident, and Morwen knew that she’d smother the children with indulgence given half a chance. And such spoiling wasn’t altogether good for them.

  ‘You stay here and have some more tea, lamb, and I’ll go up and see to them,’ Bess said comfortably, when the fresh brew had arrived. ‘Charlotte will be coming for a visit in a little while, and I know you’ll be wanting to hear how she’s doing in her grand new place.’

  Morwen gave a small shrug of acceptance as her mother went out of the room. In her own way, Bess was still in control of them all, and still adept in organizing her family. She was stiffer than of old, and the once luxuriant hair was iron-grey now. But she still carried herself with the same dignity that belied a woman who’d toiled all her life as a former bal maiden in the clayworks, and with her seamstress’s fingers pricked and hardened from long hours of tedious work done by candlelight.

  Bess and the little ones were still upstairs when Morwen heard a light voice calling out hello, and then her daughter Charlotte came into the room, bringing with her a breath of springtime.

  At seventeen, Charlotte was like a mirror image of what Morwen had been when Ben Killigrew first set eyes on her. There were the same vivid blue eyes, the same glorious blue-black hair, the same blossoming sensuality in the walk and the full, red lips… the sight of Charlotte in one of the dainty, flower-sprigged gowns she always favoured, could always startle Morwen for a few seconds. It was as if she truly looked at her daughter and saw the reflection of her younger self.

  And she fervently wished for Ben’s girl all the love she herself had known, and none of the heartache. But she knew that such a hope of Charlotte following a s
imilar pattern to her own, or an infinitely better one, was futile. Everyone had to go wherever destiny led them.

  So it had been no surprise to Morwen when her daughter announced that she wanted to be a children’s nursemaid, even if Ran had protested that it was hardly dignified for a well-to-do young lady to be cleaning up after other peoples’ infants. But Charlotte had turned her far-seeing blue eyes on him and stated exactly what Morwen had expected her to say.

  ‘It’s no less dignified than my mother caring for her father-in-law and being such a comfort to him. And I’m said to have the same calming hands as she had, so providing she doesn’t object, I shan’t be dissuaded.’

  Ran had shrugged and capitulated, knowing that the two of them were a formidable force when they wanted something badly enough. In any case, Charlotte was hardly going to look after roughnecks. There were plenty of genteel families wanting a similarly brought-up young lady to care for their children. The Pollards, who were one of the oldest and most influential families in St Austell, had welcomed Charlotte Killigrew to care for their children with open arms.

  ‘So how are your little charges today?’ Morwen asked, when they had made their greetings, and Charlotte had helped herself to tea and biscuits.

  ‘They’re both well,’ Charlotte said. ‘I took them to Par Sands this morning, made sand pies with them, and they enjoyed it enormously. They’re really well-behaved children, and not such a trial to me as I hear Bradley is being to you, Mother,’ she finished with a grin.

  At the noisy sounds emanating from upstairs, Morwen laughed, dismissing the small slight to her own son, and simply accepting the truth of it.

  ‘That’s so, but your Grandma is dealing with him at this minute. The three of them have been up to Killigrew Clay and got covered in clay dust.’

  ‘Really?’ Charlotte said carelessly.

  The clayworks were no longer of any interest to her, and her whole world now revolved around the little Pollard children. She had been given rooms of her own in the mansion and was happier than she had ever thought she could be. And there was also a certain young male relative of the family who now came more frequently to the house since Charlotte moved in, who was also filling her days with sunshine. But she wasn’t ready to confide in her mother about Vincent just yet.

  Morwen noted the faraway look in the girl’s eyes and mistook it. Charlotte’s apparent disinterest in the family fortunes suddenly irked her. It was the one thing on which they disagreed, however mutely. Charlotte had no more than a superficial interest in the past, and all her thoughts were concentrated on the present and her new life.

  It was as it should be… but Killigrew Clay had been so much a part of Morwen’s own life, and it had shaped the fate of her whole family. She was always defensive of it and its workers, from Works Manager down to the lowliest kiddley-boys who ran barefoot when their parents couldn’t afford to buy shoes, fetching and carrying, and making tea for the rest.

  ‘There could be real hardships ahead if the clayers don’t see sense,’ Morwen said now. Charlotte blinked, her thoughts elsewhere. Rarely for Morwen, her intuition didn’t alert her to the real cause, and she merely thought Charlotte was becoming too uppity to care about her own family’s doings.

  ‘You do know what I’m talking about, I suppose? Or are you so immersed in nappies and nursery diets for these other folks that you forget your attachment to your own family?’

  They were both startled by the vehemence in Morwen’s voice. She hadn’t meant to sound as snappy or as downright petty as the words implied, and Charlotte’s eyes widened now as she took in how edgy her mother seemed to be today.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean, Mother,’ she said resentfully. ‘I’m here, aren’t I? I always come to see Grandma on this day of the week, and I was more than happy to see you here too. But I can’t divide myself in dozens of little pieces in order to satisfy everybody!’

  ‘I didn’t mean any such thing—’ Morwen began, but it seemed her daughter didn’t want to listen to apologies either.

  ‘Where’s Grandad Hal? He always has a chuckle with me when I come visiting. I didn’t see him in the garden.’

  If she meant to imply that there wasn’t much chuckling going on between the two women in the drawing room now, Morwen chose to ignore it.

  ‘He’s gone to the meeting house in town,’ she said quietly. ‘Ran, Walter and Grandad Hal are having discussions today with the other bosses and pit captains, and with some of the clayworkers, trying to avert this strike threat. But we’ll leave such talk to the men and not bother our heads with it. Have you spoken to Justin about any plans for his birthday celebrations?’

  She turned the conversation quickly, and saw that Charlotte relaxed. The air had become decidedly prickly between them, and it was something Morwen didn’t care to prolong. Life was too short for such tiresomeness, but that was also something you had to learn by experience.

  ‘He didn’t want to do anything, but I told him you’d insist on having a big family party. You will, won’t you, Mother? And allow us to bring some of our own friends to it?’

  Morwen didn’t miss the anxiety in her voice, nor the sudden sparkle in the expressive blue eyes, or the warm glow in her cheeks. And her intuition didn’t desert her a second time. There was only one reason for a beautiful young lady of seventeen summers to get that special look on her face. And right now, Charlotte looked ready and ripe for falling in love… the knowledge filled Morwen with a mixture of shock and tenderness.

  It was bound to happen, of course, but when it happened to one of your own chicks, it always made you aware of your own mortality, she thought. Her feelings now were comparable with the way she felt about Walter and Cathy being so soon to become parents, and moving her into another generation. She spoke quickly, to cover the momentary shadow that passed through her mind.

  ‘Of course. And do you have a special guest you want to invite?’ she said, with a teasing smile.

  She thought Charlotte was not going to respond. Then she became animated, almost childlike in her wish to speak her beloved’s name as often as possible, and bring him near by doing so. Morwen recognized that need so well.

  ‘I just know you’re going to like him. Everybody does, Mother! His name’s Vincent Pollard, and Justin’s already met him on one occasion when he had to go to Daniel Gorran’s Chambers on family business. Justin thought Vincent was a fine young man, so I know he’d have no objection if I invited him to the party—’

  Morwen laughed as she rattled on, but far from becoming noisy in her excitement, Charlotte’s voice was becoming softer and more melodic by the minute. As soft as if she caressed her beloved’s skin… Morwen caught herself up short with a little start. But she knew all the signs. Her girl was head-over-heels in love with this unknown Vincent, and she just prayed that the young man would not only love her in return, but respect her too.

  ‘Well, I assume that if Justin approves of him, and you believe him to be an honourable young man—’ she began, with heavy-handed caution, at which Charlotte burst out laughing.

  ‘Oh, Mother, you’re so transparent! This is 1877, not the Dark Ages! I don’t need to be told how to behave myself, not with you and Grandma Bess always trying so hard to keep me on the straight and narrow path of righteousness!’

  ‘Resorting to the scriptures doesn’t make you a saint my girl,’ Morwen said tartly. ‘And you know full well what I mean. I wasn’t talking about you, in any case. Young men have different urges to young women and don’t always know how to control them.’

  She felt her face go hot as she spoke, seeing the humour on Charlotte’s face. Why, if her mother had ever spoken to her so frankly, Morwen would have died with embarrassment. Not that Bess would, or ever could have done so. Such intimate things were never discussed when Morwen was a girl, and only those with a more worldly attitude seemed able to discuss them freely now.

  The thought gave her an anxious moment, and Charlotte didn’t miss the little frown be
tween her mother’s eyes. As they heard the chatter of the children coming back downstairs with Bess, Charlotte gave her mother an unexpected hug and whispered quickly in her ear.

  ‘Don’t fret, Mammie dear. I haven’t had carnal knowledge of Vincent, and nor has he suggested it. He’s far too upright and honourable a young man for that!’

  But her eyes were dancing with wickedly teasing laughter as she said it. She turned to hold out her arms to her three half-siblings who ran towards her now, clean and wholesome again, and joyful as ever to see her. Charlotte was a terrible tease, Morwen thought, but there was no doubting the affection she had for children, nor how they responded, and even Bradley was pleased to see her.

  She’d be a perfect mother herself one day… but Morwen hoped fervently that day wasn’t too soon in coming.

  There was a wonderful springtime between adolescence and maturity that was so quickly gone, and which should be savoured to the full. It was only the participant in that springtime who so rarely realized it. Right now Charlotte was like a bright golden flower, and it was all too soon that the petals began to fall.

  Amid the children’s noisy chatter and Charlotte’s laughing rejoinders, Bess saw her daughter shudder.

  ‘What goose has just walked over your grave, my lamb?’ Bess said quietly.

  ‘None, I hope,’ Morwen said, unable, for the life of her, to give a light reply.

  She told herself she was too old to put any store in premonitions. She was nearing her mid-forties, and the old, delicious times when she and Celia Penry dared to believe in the words of witch-women and love-potions and seeing the face of your future lover through the hole in a Cornish standing-stone, were long past. But she shuddered again.

  ‘We’ve been talking about Justin’s birthday party,’ she said quickly. ‘Charlotte wants to invite a new friend, and I daresay Albert and Primmy will be bringing along some of their arty friends as well.’

  Charlotte pulled a face. ‘Must they? Some of those people are so odd, Mother.’