The Oyster Catchers (29 page)

The waiting was interminable and then, limping, like a bird with a broken wing, came a skiff edging around the rocks, making for the safety of the moorings.

Nina strained her eyes, trying to see which skiff it was but, in the early morning sunlight, it was difficult to make out the shape of the vessel. The amber sails were torn, hanging useless like washing dangling from a line.

‘I think she’s holed,’ Skipper George said, his voice rough with emotion, ‘see how she’s listing?’

Oh God, Nina thought, who do I want it to be, my son or my lover? It was a question she could not answer, did not want to answer.

The boat crept inward, dipping into the shallow waves as though never to rise again. Nina held her breath as the skiff lurched and leaned crazily over, the bedraggled sails almost in the water.

‘Don’t worry,’ Skipper George said, ‘from this distance, the men could swim ashore.’

‘Not if they were hurt,’ Nina replied desperately. ‘Oh, God, which one is it?’

She felt as though her head was about to burst, she was to be punished for her faithless ways, that was it, she had sinned and now came the moment of retribution.

‘Bear up, missis.’ Skipper George grasped her arm. ‘It won’t do to go all weak and wobbly now, whoever is in that boat needs your strength. Come on, show ’em all what you’re made of,
cariad
.’

Gratefully, Nina looked into the weatherbeaten face of the old man, he smiled, his mouth stretched into a falsely hearty grin beneath the flowing white moustache.

‘That’s the way,’ he said as she straightened her back, ‘stand tall and face what’s to come.’

But what exactly was to come? Nina saw the crippled boat edging painfully nearer. Soon now, she would know the worst, she would know if it was Tom’s boat that was lost or if it was Joe who had failed to come home.

From the hillside came a cry, arms were waving, a roar of voices were calling, calling out the name of a skiff.

In blind panic, Nina covered her ears, she could not bear to know, not just yet, she pressed her hands to her head and then all she could hear was the deafening sound of her own fear.

Eline had been happy to be back in Swansea. Much as she had enjoyed her experience in Somerset she was relieved to return to the safety of her own rooms in Mrs Miller’s emporium working on her designs as if she had never been away.

And then the news had come of the disaster in Oystermouth, a sudden storm last night, a freak wave and one of the boats had failed to return from a dredging trip. But no one seemed sure which one. The only information that was clear was that the lost ship belonged to Joe Harries.

Eline was travelling towards Oystermouth now on top of the Mumbles train, her hands twisted in her lap; the
Emmeline
or the
Oyster Sunrise
, which one was it?

In any case, she must be there, the loss of a ship was a disaster, even to a man like Joe who owned two vessels, the financial cost could mean ruin. And casualties, no one seemed clear about that. Even now she could be a widow and Eline felt her heart contract. Much had passed between her and Joe, he had humiliated her by bringing home his pregnant woman and yet he was dear to Eline in some unfathomable way.

Joe had always been there, an old family friend, a strong shoulder to lean on. He had been such a great support when Eline’s father had died that she didn’t know what she would have done without him.

She had married Joe blindly, unthinkingly, feeling it the only way forward. She had known love for him and it was only much later that she realized the love was not that of a woman for her man.

The horses pulling the train came to a halt and Eline stumbled to her feet. She climbed down from the carriage and stood in the roadway for a moment, trying to pull her shattered thoughts into some semblance of order.

To one side, the sea, innocent enough now, lapped the shore gently. The oyster boats were still fixed to the moorings, a sure sign that Oystermouth was in mourning.

Taking a deep breath, Eline crossed the road and walked the short distance to Joe’s house. She could not think of it as
her
house any longer, it belonged to Nina and Joe, they had taken possession of it and suddenly, Eline realized that it didn’t matter to her at all.

The door was closed, the curtains drawn against the morning sunlight. Hesitating, Eline pushed open the door, it seemed fatuous to knock, a foolish act of politeness in the circumstances.

Nina was seated near the fire, dressed in black, her hair scraped back from the angular planes of her face. Huge shadows etched lines beneath her eyes, she was clearly a woman in mourning. She looked up at Eline uncomprehendingly for a moment and then recognition followed.

‘It’s bad,’ she said and her tone revealed her hostility towards Eline and yet they were in this tragedy together, they had to talk and Eline’s heart started to beat furiously.

‘Joe?’ she said, hardly able to breathe. Nina looked up at her and bit her lip.

‘He’s alive,’ she said as though realizing Eline didn’t know. ‘He’s broke his back but he’s alive.’ Once she started to speak it was as though Nina had burst a dam within her and a torrent of words gushed forth.

‘Tried to save my Tom, see,’ she said in anguish, ‘knew the
Oyster Sunrise
was foundering, did Joe.’ Her shoulders sagged. ‘But it was useless, my boy couldn’t survive, not in seas like that.’

Eline tried to digest the information Nina was imparting so haphazardly. Tom was dead, young healthy Tom, Nina’s son, was dead.

‘Joe, where is he?’ Eline said softly, pushing the kettle on the fire, Nina looked as if she could do with some comfort.

‘In the hospital,’ Nina answered. ‘Nothing they can do for him, mind, anyone could see his spine has gone, finished he is.’ Suddenly she looked heavenward. ‘Oh God, what have I done to deserve all this punishment? I loved a man too much that was all.’

‘Hush now,’ Eline said firmly, ‘it’s not your fault, none of it, accidents happen at sea, you know that as well as I do.’ But she was trembling inside. Joe, big strong Joe with his back broken, it didn’t bear thinking about.

She made the tea quickly and stirred a spoonful of honey into Nina’s cup.

‘Anyone else hurt?’ she asked, her mind racing over what Nina had said. Eline tried to picture her husband as an invalid but she just couldn’t believe it.

‘Skipper George’s boys drowned at sea like my Tom. Brought in early this morning they were, the three young men in the prime of their lives, God rest their souls. Put them in the church they have, laid them out in their last resting place.’ Her voice trailed off and tears ran silently down her face.

‘Do you know what it’s like to lose your son?’ she asked abruptly. ‘Flesh of your flesh born in pain and anguish?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Eline said, the enormity of the tragedy sweeping over her. She sank into a chair and drank her tea, her hands trembling as she lifted the cup to her lips.

‘Course you don’t know,’ Nina said dully, ‘how could you? You’re just a bit of a girl yourself.’

She looked into Eline’s face intently. ‘I’ve wronged you,’ she said urgently, ‘I’ve wronged you and I must
pay for it, but I didn’t expect the reckoning to be so high.’

‘It was an accident,’ Eline repeated her earlier words, ‘nothing you did could make it happen or prevent it. What did Skipper George do to lose both his sons then? Ask yourself that, Nina.’

But Nina wasn’t listening, she put her head in her hands and her shoulders were shaking with the depths of her distress.

After a moment’s hesitation, Eline went to her and held Nina in her arms, rocking her to and fro. There were no words she could say, no comfort she could offer for Nina’s life seemed in ruins, her son dead, her lover laid low in hospital, his livelihood gone. Nina must be wondering what more could happen to her.

The door opened and Gwyneth Parks entered the room, but it was not the girl Eline saw. Behind her was Will, his hat held respectfully in his hands, his face sombre. And yet his eyes lit up when he saw Eline, or did she imagine it?

‘Mam, you’re to come home with me,’ Gwyneth ignored Eline and spoke directly to Nina. ‘There’s nothing for you here now, you come back to our house where I can keep an eye on you.’

Nina made an effort to pull herself together. She shook her head and wiped away her tears with her fingers.

‘How can I go?’ she asked pitiously. ‘I must look after Joe when he comes home.’

Gwyneth caught her mother’s arm. ‘You are not his
wife
,’ she said fiercely, ‘let
her
see to him, she’s tied by her vows, you are not tied by anything, Mam.’

Eline was suddenly filled with fear, to come back here, to nurse Joe for the rest of his life, to give up her hopes of a bright future in the shoemaking business, how could she bear it? And then shame engulfed her, how could she think such selfish thoughts at a time like this?

‘I hardly think that’s fair.’ Will was speaking, looking
down at Gwyneth, his brows drawn together in a frown. ‘Joe preferred your mother, took her into his home, she can’t desert him now.’

Gwyneth glanced up at him. ‘You don’t understand our ways, Mr Davies, here in Oystermouth, we look after our own. My mam isn’t well, she hasn’t got over losing Joe’s babbi yet and I don’t know how her nerves will stand losing Tom as well. No, Joe is not Mam’s responsibility, that’s his wife, her over there.’

She nodded to where Eline was standing. ‘She’s here, isn’t she, laying her claim in case she’s going to become a widow? What would my mam do if Joe died? She’d have to get out of here then, wouldn’t she, and no thanks to her.’

In a sudden sense of clarity, Eline knew that Gwyneth, hard as her words might be, was right. If Joe died, Nina would have nothing, be nothing, not in the eyes of the law.

‘Go on home, Nina,’ Eline said softly, ‘your daughter speaks sense. I’ll look after Joe, it’s my duty.’

Will made to speak again, but Eline shook her head slightly and he fell silent.

‘Let me go to see him at least,’ Nina was saying, ‘let me speak to Joe, explain things to him.’

‘No,’ Gwyneth shook her head, ‘what is there to explain, Mam? Come on, we’re going home. We’ve got our dead to bury, mind, and if it wasn’t for Joe Harries our Tom would be alive now.’

She drew her mother towards the door and glanced back over her shoulder for a moment. ‘Anything of Mam’s you can send over later, right?’ She paused and there was a look almost of pity in her eyes. ‘I got to look out for my mam, you understand?’

Eline nodded without replying and then she was staring at Gwyneth’s back. Will moved towards her and stood looking down at her without touching her.

‘If there’s anything I can do, just let me know,’ he said
softly. Eline lifted her head and took a deep breath. ‘I’ve got to work,’ she said in a rush, ‘I have to earn a living if I’m to look after Joe. And yet Swansea is five miles away. Oh Lord, how am I going to manage?’

She sat down in a chair, her legs trembling and, after a moment, Will came and crouched down beside her.

‘You are welcome to work for me,’ he comforted her. ‘I can’t pay much, you know that, but I’ll help you all I can.’ Gently he touched her face.

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to do, Eline, why should you give up everything for a man who betrayed you?’

‘He’s my husband,’ Eline said simply, ‘there’s nothing else I can do.’

Will rose to his feet and nodded. ‘When you are ready to start work just come along to the shop. Take care, Eline, my love.’ The last words were almost a whisper and then Will was gone and the silence of the kitchen pressed down heavily on Eline as she looked around her.

Emily Miller sat in the window of Summer Lodge looking towards the sea, remembering the days when she lived in the house as a young carefree girl, the apple of her father’s eye. She had been so easily pleased then, so shallow, so intolerant. Who would have thought that she would be sitting here now as a guest of the very girl she’d looked down on, almost despised?

‘What are you thinking about Emily?’ said Hari Grenfell, rich and successful now, elegantly attired, beloved wife of Craig Grenfell, Emily’s cousin.

‘The old days,’ Emily replied. ‘I was such a heartless little snob then.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Hari smiled, ‘I suppose you were a bit of a snob but no more than anyone else of your station.’

‘I was insufferable,’ Emily argued, ‘I think I looked down on you always, even when you were obviously so
much more talented than me.’ She paused and sighed. ‘It was only when you saved my life that time I fell sick with yellow fever that I realized we were all cast from the same mould, none of us immortal.’

‘Deep thoughts, Emily,’ Hari mused, ‘what’s brought this on?’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry for Eline Harries, I suppose that’s what it is,’ Emily said. ‘Her husband has been badly injured, you know, and won’t work again, ever.’

‘I know,’ Hari said softly, ‘Will told me.’

‘She reminds me of you.’ Emily continued, ‘so young, so talented, what a waste it’s going to be her leaving the emporium.’

‘It needn’t be,’ Hari said and Emily looked at her curiously.

‘What do you mean?’ Emily leaned forward in her chair, her eyes alight, wondering what Hari had in mind. Hari had a fertile imagination but also the courage to put her imaginings into practice.

‘We could let her work from home,’ Hari said. ‘She can make designs just as well on her kitchen table as seated at an elegant desk in your place.’

Emily smiled. ‘Trust you to come up with a practical solution to the problem.’

‘Well, like you, I think it a pity if Eline Harries doesn’t get the chance she deserves.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘According to William, Eline is taking on far too much.’

‘In what way?’ Emily’s curiosity was aroused, Eline spoke little of her private life but it was clear she had parted from her husband which in itself showed great strength, coming from the sort of background she did.

‘Her husband had taken in a woman, a woman who was pregnant by him. Sadly, she lost the baby but decided to remain where she was, with Eline’s husband. But when he was so badly injured, the woman couldn’t cope and so she returned to her own home.’