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Authors: Iris Gower

Sea Mistress (51 page)

BOOK: Sea Mistress
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‘Jubilee knew nothing about it.' Bernard shut the file. ‘Boyo was transferred to Swansea from Cardiff when he was a few years old.'
‘Then how did he come to be working with Jubilee at Glyn Hir?'
‘Jubilee wanted to give an orphan a home, I was sent to the workhouse to sort out the legalities of the matter. I saw the documentation concerning the boy's forebears, I put two and two together.'
‘And Jubilee never knew the connection between Boyo and himself, never knew he had a grandson?'
‘In my wisdom, I thought it best not to tell him,' Bernard Telforth shrugged. ‘Who knows what might have happened, the boy's relatives might have turned up and claimed all Jubilee had worked for. The background was not reassuring, there could have been instability, mental illness, something in the child's blood, I couldn't take a chance.'
‘So why are you telling me all this now?' Ellie asked in a strained voice. ‘I feel such a fraud, as if I've taken everything that belongs rightly to Boyo.'
‘I am old, I can no longer make decisions with the confidence, or arrogance I had in my youth so, my dear lady, I entrust this burden of truth to you.'
He handed her the file. ‘In my capacity as your solicitor, I suggest you make an allowance to the boy, I think he deserves that much.' He shrugged. ‘But as I said, it's up to you now.'
Ellie left the offices in a daze. So much had happened in the last few days, so many upheavals, she felt she could scarcely cope with this fresh revelation about Boyo's birthright.
She wandered towards the beach, the salt tangy air filled her nostrils and she breathed deeply trying to be calm. She settled herself on a spar staring out to sea. What should she do? Boyo was the rightful owner of Glyn Hir, should she sign it all over to him?
Daniel; she thought in anguish, if only you were here now. She looked up at the clouds scudding across the skies, winter was creeping upon the town, the nights would lengthen and she would be alone. ‘Daniel, I need you!' Her voice was carried away by the cold wind and the wash of the ocean. Only the distant screech of the sea birds could be heard above the noise of the gathering storm.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
With winter came the worst sickness Swansea had seen in a long time. Influenza of a most virulent kind was sweeping through the huddled streets of the town touching almost every household with terrible results. There seemed little the doctors could do to contain the illness; the hospitals were full, funerals were an everyday occurrence and the shops were eerily empty. Even the maids from the big houses, shopping in the market place, had ceased to haggle over prices and did their business as swiftly as possible before hurrying away from the silent streets.
‘Good thing we don't live any closer to the town.' Martha, as usual, was busy sewing, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. ‘Lucky we hadn't yet found a house to rent, the tannery might be smelly but at least we're out of danger up here.'
Ellie raised her eyebrows but kept her doubts to herself, the sickness, she knew, could be carried in by any one of a dozen means. There were deliveries to be made both to and from the tannery, Rosie needed occasionally to go into town for supplies; contact with people who might be infected was inevitable. The tradesmen, those who were not stricken, still called to the door of Glyn Hir and as for Harry and Luke, goodness only knows where they spent their evenings, most likely in the crowded smoky rooms of one of the public houses of the area. Still, if it comforted Martha to think them safely away from danger, then so be it.
Ellie stared into the fire, deep in thought and after a long silence, Martha spoke again. ‘What's eating you, Ellie, not worrying about that husband of yours, are you? He's young and fit and what's more he's all the way down in Lampeter, I doubt if they have even heard of the influenza there.'
Ellie shook her head. ‘It's not Dan I'm worried about, it's Boyo. My conscience is troubling me, I feel I'm failing in my duty towards him. I'll have to talk to him and soon, tell him what I've found out about him but somehow I can't bring myself to find the right words.'
Want to confide in me or is this too private a matter?' Martha put down her sewing and gave Ellie her full attention.
Ellie debated for a moment and then decided she could do with Martha's commonsense approach to the problem of Boyo's ancestry. ‘When I went to see Bernard Telforth a few weeks ago, it was about Boyo.' She paused, biting her lip, she had not even been given the opportunity of talking all this over with Dan yet, still, she could hardly stop now, Martha's eyes were alight with anticipation. ‘Boyo wanted to learn about his background,' she continued, ‘that's natural enough, especially now he's walking out with April O'Conner.'
‘And?' Martha urged, ‘did you learn anything interesting?'
‘Oh, yes,' Ellie smiled dryly. ‘Very interesting. Boyo is Jubilee's grandson.'
‘What?' Martha leaned forward in her chair. ‘How can that be, I thought Jubilee was barren?'
‘I know,' Ellie nodded, ‘so did I and so did he. Apparently he had one brief love affair. It all happened a long time ago, well before he had the sickness. To cut a long story short, Boyo is Jubilee's next of kin, for all I know, his only kin.'
Martha looked at her in silence for a long moment. ‘I can read you like a book,' she said, ‘now you feel guilty because you have inherited all of Jubilee's money. Well the solution is simple, share it with Boyo.'
Ellie looked across at her. ‘I feel he deserves it all,' she said softly. ‘The whole estate, the tannery, the money, it does, by right, belong to Boyo.'
‘Rubbish!' Martha rose to her feet and brushed down her skirts, ‘That's nonsense! You were Jubilee's legal wife, you would naturally be looked after however many children Jubilee had.'
‘But would he have bothered to marry me if he'd known he had a grandson?' Ellie said in a small voice. ‘That's what I keep asking myself.'
‘Look, all anyone would expect of you is that you give Boyo a decent share of Jubilee's money. Some people wouldn't even do that much, believe me.'
Ellie sighed heavily. ‘I know you are right, I only wish Dan was here so that I could talk to him about it, he's so wise.'
‘And you haven't told Boyo any of this?'
‘No, first I want to be sure in my mind what I'm going to do with the estate.'
‘He won't demand anything, not if I know Boyo,' Martha said evenly. ‘That lad has more sense than many twice his years.'
‘I must do what's right,' Ellie said. ‘What I think Jubilee would have wanted. But should I talk to Dan first and then talk to Boyo, what do you think?'
‘I think you should put Boyo out of his misery as soon as possible,' Martha said dryly. ‘It's not fair to keep him waiting. Just tell him the facts and worry about making any decisions concerning the money afterwards.'
‘I suppose you're right. I know Boyo is really anxious to learn all he can about his past. I'll talk to him first thing in the morning, I promise.'
‘Good girl.' Martha folded up her sewing. ‘I think I'll turn in early, I'm feeling just a little tired.' She rubbed her eyes and Ellie looked at her in concern. ‘Are you sure that's all, you're just tired, you don't feel ill?'
‘Don't fuss, girl,' Martha softened her words with a smile, ‘I'm strong as a horse, you know that as well as I do.'
‘I'll get Rosie to bring you up a cup of hot milk,' Ellie said, ‘it will help you to sleep.'
‘That sounds nice.' Martha sighed heavily. ‘Can she bring me a hot water bottle as well, do you think?'
‘Go on, up to bed, I'll see to everything.'
Later, Ellie sat in the kitchen with Rosie, glad of the girl's cheerful company, tonight she felt unaccountably lonely.
‘Where's Boyo?' Rosie glanced at the clock. ‘He's late isn't he?'
‘I expect he's taking his time walking home from Honey's Farm.' Ellie smiled warmly, ‘He's in love, really in love for the first time.'
‘But not the last, I'll wager,' Rosie smiled. ‘He's a fine boy, whoever gets him will be a lucky woman. I'm very fond of Boyo.'
Ellie looked at her and smiled. ‘So I heard.'
Rosie had the grace to blush. ‘I don't want Caradoc to hear of it, mind, nor anything about Matthew Hewson. I don't think he'd like it very much.'
‘No need for him to know, not if you don't want him to. What's past is past and we all have our skeletons in the cupboard remember.'
‘You'll make a lovely vicar's wife,' Rosie said warmly. ‘You don't make a body feel awful and wicked, you're such an understanding person.'
Ellie grimaced. ‘I don't know, I don't feel good enough for Daniel, not really.'
‘He's very lucky to have you,' Rosie said stoutly, ‘you'll do him proud, that you will.'
Ellie rose. Well, there's no sign of Boyo, he can let himself in, I'm going to bed.'
She was relieved not to have to face Boyo and the questions in his eyes until morning. She knew Martha was right, she must talk to him as soon as possible, put his mind at rest. He deserved that much. But not tonight.
‘I'll just bank up the fire and then I'll come up too,' Rosie said. ‘Good night Ellie, God bless.'
Lying in bed, Ellie looked up at the moonlight, sharp, crisp and wintry as it shone in through the window. She wished Dan were at her side, wished she could talk to him ask him what was right. She sighed, ah well, she would sleep on her problem and perhaps in the morning, she would have all the answers.
It wasn't to be. Early, before daylight, Ellie awoke to hear sounds of coughing coming from Martha's room. She rose quickly and pulled on her robe, tying the belt firmly around her waist. The polished boards were cold beneath her feet as she crossed from her own room over the landing to where Martha slept.
Ellie quickly lit the lamp and took it to the table beside the bed. Martha's eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, the glitter of perspiration beaded her forehead. Ellie, her mouth dry, realized that Martha had contracted influenza.
Rosie, awakened from sleep, stood in the doorway, worried but reluctant to intrude. ‘Can I do anything, Ellie, is Martha sick?'
Ellie turned to the girl and nodded slowly. We'll bathe her and dress her in a fresh gown,' she said attempting to be calm and practical. ‘Can you bring some water, Rosie?'
‘Aye, I'll do that and while I'm at it, I'll see to the fire, might as well make sure it stays alight now.'
Boyo emerged from the back bedroom rubbing his eyes. ‘What is it, Ellie?'
‘It's Martha, she's not well.' She moved to the door and spoke in whispers. ‘I'm not sure but I think it's the influenza.'
Martha began to cough again and Ellie returned to her side. ‘It's all right, I'm going to give you something to ease your chest.' She looked over her shoulder at Boyo. ‘Fetch me the bottle of elixir from the shelf in the pantry, Boyo, and a spoon as well, please.'
Martha opened her eyes as though with a great effort. ‘Ellie,' her voice was little more than a croak, ‘I've caught it, haven't I?'
‘It looks like it,' Ellie didn't bother to prevaricate, she knew Martha would not appreciate half-truths. ‘But you are going to be all right, Rosie and I will take care of you until daybreak and then Boyo can go for the doctor.'
Boyo's footsteps sounded on the stairs and he entered the room with the brown bottle in his hand. ‘Here we are,' he glanced down at Martha and smiled encouragingly, ‘this will make you feel better.'
‘Go on back to bed, Boyo,' Ellie said softly, ‘there's not a lot you can do now.'
‘Might as well stay up now I'm awake,' Boyo said firmly. ‘I'll make an early start in the yard.'
Rosie returned with a jug of water and poured it into the bowl on the washstand. ‘I managed to take the chill off it with what was left in the kettle,' she said in a low voice.
When Martha had been given the elixir and was changed into a fresh gown, Ellie sank into a chair beside her. ‘Feel any better, Martha?'
Martha didn't answer, she seemed to have sunk into a deep sleep, it was probably the medicine working, Ellie thought as she leaned over the older woman anxiously.
‘Come on downstairs,' Rosie whispered, ‘you look all in.'
Ellie glanced uncertainly at Martha and Rosie shook her head. ‘She won't wake now, not for a while, best let her rest easy.'
It was warm in the kitchen and, gratefully, Ellie sat near the fire. Boyo was putting more coal on the flames and Rosie slumped over the table and rested her head in her arms. Ellie touched her lightly on the shoulder. ‘Go back to bed, get a couple of hours, it's still on four o'clock.'
Rosie sighed, ‘I think I will. Call me if you need anything, mind.'
After she had gone, Ellie leaned back wearily in her chair. She knew the moment had come when she must speak to Boyo about his past and it was not going to be easy. She wasn't sure how he would react, would he resent being robbed of his heritage, would he blame Jubilee for what had happened so long ago?
‘What is it, Ellie?' Boyo asked quietly, ‘I can see you are worried, is it Martha, is she very sick?'
Ellie shook her head. ‘It's not about Martha, Boyo, it's about you.'
He took a deep, steadying breath. ‘You've found out who my parents were?'
‘Not exactly,' she looked down at her hands. ‘What I do know for certain is that you are a Hopkins, you are Jubilee's grandson.'
BOOK: Sea Mistress
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