Bride of Pendorric (7 page)

“Hello, Favell” cried Lowella leaping up.

“And Uncle Roe!” Lowella flung her arms about Roe’s neck, lifted her feet from the ground and was swung round and round.

Rachel Bective looked faintly amused; Hyson’s face was expressionless.

” Help!” cried Roe. ” Come along, Favel … Rachel .. , rescue me.”

“Any excuse to stop lessons,” murmured Rachel.

Lowella released her uncle.

“If I want to find excuses I always can,” she said gravely. ” That was meant to say how glad I was to see him and the Bride.”

” I want you to entertain her this afternoon,” said Roe, ” while I’ll be working. Will you?”

” Of course.” Lowella smiled at me. ” I’ve such lots to tell you.”

” I’m looking forward to hearing.” I included Hyson in my smile but she quickly looked away.

” Now you’re here,” said Roe, ” you must have a look at the old schoolroom. It’s a real relic from the past. Generations of Pendorrics sat at that table. My grandfather carved his initials on it and was sternly punished by his governess.”

” How was he punished?” Lowella wanted to know.

” Probably with a big stick … or made to fast on bread and water and learn pages of Paradise Lost.”

” I’d rather the stick,” said Lowella.

” You wouldn’t. You’d hate that,” put in Hyson surprisingly. ” No, I’d love it, because I’d take the stick and start beating whoever was beating me.” Lowella’s eyes shone at the prospect.

“There you are, Rachel, that’s a warning,” said Roe.

He had gone to the cupboard and showed me bookSi which must have been there for years; some were exercise books filled with the unformed writing of children; there were several slates and pencil boxes.

“You’ll have to have a good look when it’s not lesson time, Favel. I believe Rachel’s getting a little impatient with us.” He flashed a smile at Rachel, and because I thought I saw intimacy in it I felt a pang of jealousy. Until now it had not occurred to me that the easy

manner in which my friendship with Roe had progressed was due to his easygoing friendly nature. Now it occurred to me that he was very friendly with Rachel—and she with him, for if his smile for her was warm, hers was a good deal warmer. I began to wonder then how deep a friendship it was.

I was glad to leave the schoolroom, the exuberant Lowella, the silent Hyson, and Rachel who was too friendly—towards Roe. There were lots of questions I wanted to ask him about Rachel Bective but I felt that I might betray my jealousy if I did, so I decided to shelve the subject for the time being.

When I was sitting in the car with Roe I felt happy again. He was right when he had suggested that an entirely new life would help me to put the past behind me. So many new impressions were being superimposed on those old ones that they now seemed to belong to another life.

Roe put his hand over mine and I would have said he was a very contented man that morning.

” I can see you’ve taken to Pendorric like a duck to water.”

“It’s all so intriguing, so beautiful … and the family is interesting.”

He grimaced. ” We’re flattered. I’m going to drive you past the Folly;

then you can see what a sham it is. “

We drove down the steep road and up again and then we were on a level with Polhorgan. At first glance it appeared to be as old as Pendorric.

“They’ve deliberately tried to make the stone look old. The gargoyles over the front porch are crumbling artistically.”

” There’s no sign of life.”

” There never is from this side. The master of the house has his apartments on the south side, facing the sea. He owns the beach below and he has magnificent flower gardens laid out on the cliffs. Much grander than ours. He bought the land from my grandfather.”

” He has a wonderful view.”

” That’s as well because he spends most of the time in his room. His heart won’t allow him to do otherwise.”

We had passed the house and Roe went on: “I’m taking this road which will carry us back to Pendorric because I want you to see our little village. I know you’re going to love it.”

We had turned back and were going steeply down again to the coast road which led past Pendorric. I gazed at the house in a happy proprietorial way as we passed. In a short time we were roaring up the steep hill to the main road and I could see the sea on our left.

” It’s the twists of our coast that make you lose your sense of direction,” Roe explained. ” This was once an area of terrific volcanic upheaval, which means that the land was flung in all directions. We’ve been rounding a sort of promontory and we’re now coming into the village of Pendorric.”

We swooped down again and there it lay—the most enchanting little village I had ever seen. There was the church, its ancient tower, about which the ivy clung, clearly of Norman architecture, and it was set in the midst of the graveyard. On one side the stones were dark with age and on the other they were white and new-looking. There was the vicarage, a grey house set in a hollow with its lawn and gardens on an incline. Beyond the church was the row of cottages which Morwenna had mentioned; they had thatched roofs and tiny windows and were all joined together—the whole six of them. I imagine they were of the same period as the church.

Not far from the cottages was a garage with living quarters above it.

” It was once the blacksmith’s forge,” Roe explained. ” The Bonds who lived there have been blacksmiths for generations. It broke old Jim Bond’s heart when there were no longer enough horses in the district to make the smithy worth while, but they have compromised. The old forge is still in existence and I often pull up here to have the faorsesa shod.” w He slowed down and called: “Jim! Hi, Jim!”

A window above was thrown open and a handsome woman appeared there.

Her black hair fell loosely about her shoulders and her scarlet blouse seemed too tight for her. She had the look of a gipsy. ” Morning, Mr.

Roe,” she said.

” Why hallo, Dinah.”

” Nice to see you back, Mr. Roe.”

Roe waved a hand and at that moment a man came out to us. ” Morning, Jim,” said Roe.

He was a man in his fifties, an enormous man, just as one would have

imagined a blacksmith should look; his sleeves c were rolled up to display his brawny muscles. Roe went on: ” I’ve brought my wife along to show her the old forge and get her acquainted with the village.”

” I’m glad to see you, ma’am,” said Jim. ” Would ‘ee care to come in and have a drop of our old cider?”

I said I should be delighted, and we got out of the car and went into the blacksmith’s shop, where a strawberry roan was actually being shod. The smell of burning hoof filled the air, and the young man who was working at the forge said good-morning to us. He seemed to be Jim too.

I was told that he was young Jim, the son of old Jim, and that there had been Jim Bonds at the forge for as long as anyone could remember.

“And us reckons there always will be,” said old Jim. ” Though … times change.” He looked a little sad.

“You never know when your luck will turn,” Roe told him. Old Jim went to a corner and came out with glasses on a tray. He filled the glasses from a great barrel with a tap at the side which stood in a corner of me shop.

” The Bonds have always been noted for their cider,” Roe explained. ” Oh yes, m’dear,” said old Jim. ” Me Granny used to keep a live toad in the barrel and ‘twas said that hers was a cider as had to be tasted to be believed. Now don’ tee look scared like. We don’t use the old toad now. Tis just the juice of good old Cornish apples and the way we Bonds have with ‘” em. “

” It’s as potent as ever,” said Roe.

” It’s very good,” I commented.

” Sometimes a bit too much for the foreigners,” said old Jim, looking at me as though he hoped I was teetering on the verge of intoxication.

The younger man went on stolidly with his work and hardly looked at us.

Then a door opened and the woman who had looked from the window came in. Her black eyes were sparkling and she swayed her hips as she walked; she was wearing a short full skirt and her shapely legs were bare and brown; her feet, slightly grubby, were in scuffed sandals. I noticed that all three men were intensely aware of her the moment she came in. Old Jim scowled at her and didn’t seem very pleased to see her; young Jim couldn’t take his eyes from her; but it was Roe’s expression which was not easy to construe. I could see immediately the effect she had on the others, but not on Roe. It was my husband whom I could not understand.

She herself studied me intently, taking in each detail of my appearance. I felt she was a little scornful of my clean linen dress, as she smoothed her hands over her hips and smiled at Roe. It was a familiar and, I thought, even intimate gaze. I was a little ashamed of myself then. Was I over-jealous because I had a very attractive husband? I must stop myself wondering what his relationship had been with every young woman he had known before he met me. ” This is Dinah, young Mrs. Bond,” Roe was explaining to me.

“How do you do?” I said.

She smiled. ” I do very well,” she answered, ” and I’m terribly glad to see Mr. Roe has brought a bride to Pendorric.”

” Thank you,” said Roe. He drained his glass. ” We have a lot to do this morning,” he added.

” Can I fill up your car, sir?” asked old Mr. Bond.

“We’re all right for a bit, Jim,” said Roe, and I had a feeling that he was anxious to get away.

I felt a little dizzy—it was the cider, I told myself—and I was rather glad to get out into the fresh air.

The old man and Dinah stood watching as we drove away. There was a slow smile on Dinah’s face.

” Dinah rather broke up the happy party,” I said.

“The old fellow hates her, I’m afraid. Life doesn’t go smoothly at the old forge since Dinah came to live there.”

” She’s very attractive.”

” That seems to be the majority opinion—including Dinah’s. I hope it works out, but I fancy young Jim doesn’t have too good a life between the old man and the young woman. Old Jim would have liked to see him marry one of the Pascoe girls from the cottages; they’d have had a little Jim by now. But young Jim—always a docile lad till he fell in love with Dinah—married her, and that has not made for peace at the old forge. She’s half gipsy and used to live in a caravan in the woods about a mile away.”

” Is she a good and faithful wife?”

“Roe laughed. ” Did she give you the impression that she was? “

” Far from it.”

Roe nodded.

“Dinah wouldn’t pretend to be what she isn’t.” He pulled up the car before a gate and a voice called to us: “Why, Mr.

Pendorric, how nice to see you back. “

A plump, rosy-cheeked woman who had a basket full of roses on her arm and cutters in her hand came to the gate and leaned over. ” This is Mrs. Dark,” said Roe. ” Our vicar’s wife.”

” So nice of you to call so quickly. We’ve been so eager to meet Mrs. Pendorric.”

We got out of the car and Mrs. Dark opened the gate and took us into a garden which consisted of a lawn bounded by flower beds and enclosed by hedges of macrocarpas.

” The vicar will be very pleased to see you. He’s in the study working on his sermon. I hope you’ll have some coffee.”

We told her we had just had cider at the forge. ” And,” added Roe, ” I’d like to show my wife the old church. Please don’t disturb your husband.”

” He’d be so sorry if he missed you.” She turned to me. ” We’re so pleased to have you with us, Mrs. Pendorric, and we do hope you’re going to enjoy living here and will be with us quite a lot. It’s always so pleasant when the big house takes an interest in village things.”

” Favel is already enormously interested in Pendorric affairs,” said Roe.

“She’s looking forward to seeing the church.”

” I’ll go and tell Peter you’re here.”

We walked through the garden with her, and passing through a hedge were on the lawn that sloped down to the vicarage. Opposite the house was the church, and we went towards it while Mrs. Dark hurried across the lawn to the house.

” We don’t seem to be able to escape people this morning,” said Roe, taking my arm. ” They’re all determined to have a look at you. I wanted to show you the church on my own, but Peter Dark will be on our trail soon,” I, was conscious of the quietness about us as we passed the yews, which had grown cumbersome with age, and crossed a part of the old graveyard and went into the ‘church.

I immediately felt that I had stepped back in time. There was a

thirteenth-century church looking little different, I imagined, from what it had in the days when it had been built. The light filtered through the stained-glass windows on to the altar with its beautiful embroidered cloth and exquisite carving. On the wall, carved in stone, were the names of the vicars from the year 1280. ” They were all local people,” Roe explained, ” until the Darks came. They come from the Midlands somewhere and they seem to know far more about the place than any of us. Dark is an expert on old Cornish customs. He’s collecting them and writing a book on them.” His voice sounded hollow, and as I looked up at him I was not thinking of the Darks, nor the church, but of the expression I had seen in Rachel Bective’s eyes that morning and later in those of Dinah Bond. He was extremely attractive; I had known that the moment I set eyes on him. I had fallen deep in physical love with him when I knew little about him. I knew little more now and I was more deeply in love than ever. I was so happy with him except when the doubts came. I was wondering now whether I had married a philanderer who was a perfect lover because he was so experienced; and it was not turning out to be such a happy morning as I had imagined it would.

“Anything wrong?” asked Roe.

“Should there be?”

He took me by the shoulders and held me against him so that I couldn’t see his eyes. ” I’ve got you … here in Pen dorric. How could anything be wrong with that?”

I was startled by the sound of a footstep, and breaking away I saw that a man in clerical clothes had come into the church.

” Hallo, Vicar,” said Roe easily.

” Susan told me you were here.” He advanced towards us, a pleasant-mannered man with a happy, alert expression which suggested he found his life one of absorbing interest. He took my hand. ” Welcome to Pendorric, Mrs. Pendorric. We’re so pleased to have you with us. What do you think of the church? Isn’t it fascinating?”