The Oyster Catchers (34 page)

Eline sat looking through the window of the cottage and wondered at her temerity in leaving Will’s shop once and for all.

If she had needed convincing, it was finding Gwyneth and William one morning pouring over the order books together that did it. Their heads were bent close together, shoulders touching and a wave of sick jealousy had washed through her so that for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Then common sense reasserted itself, Will was a free agent, she had made it quite clear there could never be anything between them.

Eline knew in that instant, she must leave the shop and allow Will to get on with his life, the best he may. Eline was Joe’s wife and always would be until death did them part, so why should she feel she was cutting part of her life adrift?

‘You can’t mean it,’ he said softly when she told him of her decision. It was more difficult to hold firm to her resolve than she had anticipated. ‘You need to work and Eline, I need to have you near me, you must realize that.’

Eline shook her head. ‘No, what I do realize is that there’s no future for us, we always knew it really, didn’t we?’

‘But how will you manage?’ Will asked anxiously. ‘I mean how will you live?’

‘I’m getting work from Mrs Grenfell and Mrs Miller now,’ Eline said firmly. ‘I
have
to make my own way in the world, you must see that?’ She played her trump card. ‘You wouldn’t stand in my way, would you, Will?’

She saw the hurt in his face and longed to put her
hands on his cheeks and kiss his dear mouth. She took a deep breath forcing herself to wait for his answer.

‘No,’ he said at last, ‘I wouldn’t stand in your way, Eline. I’ll make up your wages as soon as possible and see that someone brings them along to you. I take it you want to leave immediately.’

‘That would be best.’ She forced herself to speak calmly as though every nerve within her wasn’t screaming out for him to take her into his arms and hold her close.

Eline found herself out in the grey of the November day, her coat clutched around her against the cold wind coming in from the sea. There was an iciness within her that had nothing to do with the weather. She had seen the look of victory on Gwyneth Parks’s face and knew instinctively that the girl would lose no time in making up to Will for Eline’s absence.

Joe was sitting up in his chair when Eline reached home and Nina Parks was in the kitchen singing happily to herself. All at once, Eline knew she could not work from home, she was out of place now in the little cottage, and in any case she couldn’t put up with Nina Parks’s triumphant smile at having cut the ground from under Eline’s feet. Eline squared her shoulders knowing she would have to make other arrangements.

‘Hallo, not working today?’ Nina looked up from the oven, her face flushed with the heat, her hair curling prettily around her forehead and her words were like an accusation.

‘I have patterns to take to Mrs Grenfell,’ Eline felt bound to explain. ‘I just called back for them.

‘Want a cup of tea?’ Nina asked grudgingly and it was as if Eline was the guest and she the mistress of the house.

‘Not just at the moment.’ Eline bent to kiss Joe’s cheek. ‘You’re looking better today, love, there’s a bit of colour in your cheeks,’ she said encouragingly.

‘Aye, been sitting outside in the fresh sea air,’ Joe said, ‘watching the boats go out.’ There was a world of sadness in his voice and Eline felt guilty that she was so removed from her husband’s pain.

‘Is there anything you want?’ she asked and Joe looked up at her with far-seeing eyes. He shook his head.

‘No thanks,
cariad
, I’m being well looked after, couldn’t ask for better than I’m getting.’

Was there a reproach in his words? Eline wondered, but Joe suddenly reached out his hand to her. ‘And you are earning us a living, what more could I ask?’

Eline picked up her patterns and looked around her, the house gleamed with cleanliness, the smell of cooking permeated the air and her own presence seemed entirely unnecessary. Eline returned to the street and, without a backward glance, walked briskly towards the train terminus. If there was bitterness in Joe’s voice, she mused, she couldn’t blame him, his life was full of frustrations. And yet so was hers. She had to think for them both, work to make enough money to keep them sheltered and clothed. It was a job she would not shirk but she could not help being saddened and angry that her efforts were taken for granted.

Eline had tried to persuade Joe to sell the
Emmeline
, tried to make him see that the boat would take a great deal of maintenance being so old. ‘In any case,’ she had said, ‘when you are better you will be in a position to buy another boat, what with the insurance on the
Oyster Sunrise
and all.’

To Joe, selling the
Emmeline
was like selling his past as well as his future and stubbornly, he refused to hear of it.

As Eline waited for the train, she made up her mind that with some of the wages she had saved, she would rent herself an office. It would need to be something modest at first but soon, as her work improved, her
orders would increase and she would gradually build herself a good viable business.

Emily Miller, through Hari Grenfell, had offered Eline the job of changing the windows of the emporium every few weeks – that would bring in a steady, if small, income for a start. If only, Eline thought, she could find an office in Swansea, she would be at hand to do window dressing whenever it was required.

When she had somewhere private to work, she could set up an easel, work out her designs. She could even work in coloured leathers, she realized with a flash of excitement.

There was the latest design she had worked on with Hari Grenfell, the ladies’ remedial boot, perhaps a different coloured cuff could be added to make the boots match any outfit.

Hari had promised that Eline would share in the profits so at least she was off to a bit of a start. A feeling of hope filled Eline, she might never have happiness in her private life but, by heavens, she would be a successful business woman if effort was anything to go by.

Hari Grenfell was patently pleased to see Eline. She was seated in the large office of her boot and shoe store and there was an open letter on the desk before her.

‘Just the person I wanted to talk to.’ Hari smiled warmly. ‘Sit down, Eline, I’ve some good news for you.’

Eline clasped her hands in her lap and sat on the very edge of the plushly upholstered chair. The carpet beneath her feet felt soft and deep and Eline marvelled that a woman from the slum areas of Swansea could have achieved such wonders in a comparatively short time. For Hari Grenfell was still a young woman, elegant, well-dressed and poised, but still young. One day, Eline thought, she might find herself in the same circumstances as Hari.

Then Eline thought of Will Davies who might be falling in love with Gwyneth Parks and she knew that
whatever success she might have, she would not find the personal happiness that Hari had achieved.

‘The Ladies’ Cuffed Boot has found favour with some of the big shoe companies,’ Hari said holding up the letter. ‘At least two of them wish to buy the pattern.’

Eline was bewildered. ‘But surely there are not that many ladies who need adapted footwear, are there?’ she asked and Hari’s smile widened.

‘Indeed not,’ she agreed, ‘but the shoe is so beautiful, such a new fashion idea, that it seems to have taken the fancy of some of the most influential boot and shoemakers in the country. You are going to become a household name, Eline, are you happy?’

Eline bit her lip against the rush of tears that threatened to engulf her, she didn’t want Hari Grenfell to think she was a silly, sentimental girl, did she? But Hari seemed to understand.

‘I know you have more than your share of problems lately, Eline,’ Hari said, ‘but this’ – she waved the letter – ‘secures your future.’ She leaned back in her chair. ‘It won’t make you rich overnight, but it’s a very good start, a very good start indeed, better than any I had.’

Eline looked at her doubtfully. ‘But you are so successful,’ she looked around her, ‘you have everything you could possibly want.’

Hari shrugged. ‘I couldn’t have done it without the help of some very good friends and that’s what I hope I can be to you, Eline, a good friend. You are a very talented person, you deserve to succeed and I’m sure you will if you put all you have into it.’

‘I’ll do that all right,’ Eline said ruefully, ‘I need to earn a living for Joe and me.’

Hari sighed. ‘Just as I needed to earn a living for my baby and myself. It’s for the sake of others we push, so it seems, not for ourselves.’

Eline was aware of Hari looking at her steadily. ‘What are your plans?’ Hari asked and it was as though she was
waiting for some sign tht Eline was serious about her career.

‘I’ve decided to find myself an office,’ she said, ‘I realized this morning that I can’t work at home not with Joe there and Nina pottering round.’ She glanced up at Hari. ‘Nina takes care of Joe,’ she explained wondering how much gossip Hari might have heard. But Hari was nothing if not discreet.

‘I’d say that was the wisest move you could make,’ she said, ‘it looks professional and it gives you the peace of mind you need to make your designs. I’ll keep my ears and eyes open in case anything suitable comes up.’

‘What about working in coloured leather?’ Eline asked, changing the subject; she didn’t want Hari to think she was asking for any favours. ‘Is that a realistic prospect?’

Hari leaned forward eagerly. ‘Have you anything specific in mind?’

‘I thought we might have a removable cuff for the boot,’ Eline replied, ‘with different coloured leather to match various outfits.’

‘Excellent,’ Hari said, ‘we could definitely have several options of colour with pigskin.’ Her eyes were alight with enthusiasm. ‘I know I’m going to enjoy working with you, Eline,’ Hari added warmly.

When Eline left the emporium, she made her way along the business section of the town looking for offices that were for rent. She wanted something with plenty of light, south facing if possible, but nothing that would eat into all her savings too drastically. She sighed with a mixture of apprehension and excitement, her life was going to need some sorting out, but at least she had made a start at it, and, according to Hari Grenfell, a very good start indeed.

Sarah smiled and nodded, leaning coquettishly towards Geoffrey Frogmore. He really was a boring young man
but so rich! She saw Emily glance at her in disapproval – Emily thought she should be mourning over the death of Tom Parks. Sarah was sorry about him, of course, but there was nothing she could do to bring him back, was there? Ignoring her step-mother’s frown, Sarah continued to smile at Geoffrey as though she was besotted by him.

Mind, she had to give all credit to Emily, she had certainly set out to impress the Frogmores. The table was groaning with fine china and gleaming silver and the cook had really excelled herself with the mutton cut fine and wrapped around minced meat beaten together with mint jelly.

‘Is your father really going to buy us the manor house?’ Sarah asked quietly, widening her eyes in a pretence of awe. ‘Can he really afford such a place, after all, you both live very modestly at Mrs Marsh’s boarding house.’

‘That’s one of the things I love about you,’ Geoffrey said, ‘you are so innocent. At least I know you are not marrying me for my money because you didn’t know I had any.’

‘That’s true, darling,’ Sarah said, quickly kissing the corner of his mouth and thinking at the same time what a trusting fool he was. She had taken great pains to find out all about Geoffrey Frogmore, helped by her father’s, or rather Emily’s, connections.

Geoffrey Frogmore was a rich man in his own right, his mother had been connected to minor aristocracy, foreigners it was true, but as the only male heir it was rumoured that Geoffrey had inherited a small fortune.

His father, too, was in the possession of a considerable amount of money and property and had decided to come to live at the seaside in the small Welsh village because of Jack’s failing health.

The rooms at the house of motherly Mrs Marsh were simply a stop gap, a convenient place to rest and to assess the lie of the land. After all it might have been
that the Frogmores wouldn’t have been happy in the area.

Geoffrey, of course, had been delighted with Oystermouth, he loved the seaside village, loved the gently sloping cliffs that rose above the ocean and now he loved Sarah Miller, daughter of a prosperous father and step-daughter of the well-bred Emily Miller
née
Grenfell.

Sarah was well aware that Geoffrey’s father had pointed out her family were ‘in trade’, but Geoffrey had replied with the opinion that these days such things didn’t really matter. In any case, it seemed that his father had grown heartily tired of waiting for his son to prove his manhood and was only too willing to accept any young girl of excellent means as his daughter-in-law.

Well, Sarah thought to herself, she was not as rich as she had led Geoffrey to believe, but that didn’t matter one jot. She tossed her head; one day, she would be rich, because the only other person who could inherit Emily’s fortune was Pammy, Sarah’s natural child.

Not that she’d ever admit as much to Geoffrey, he thought Sarah a sweet innocent virgin. She smiled to herself; he was probably so inexperienced in the ways of women that it wouldn’t be too difficult to make him go on believing the story.

Emily was gesturing for Sarah to rise and leave the gentlemen to their port and cigars, a stupid idea, Sarah thought, she would have none of it when she was running her own home.

‘Sarah, are you sure that this is what you want?’ Emily asked tucking a stray curl into place. ‘Geoffrey seems very nice, but isn’t he a little dull?’

‘But so rich,’ Sarah said drily, ‘and I’m fed up with being broke, waiting for you to hand out your little bit of charity. In any case,’ she settled into the rich tapestry-covered chair, ‘you should be glad I’m going to be married, at least you know you’ll be safe with Pammy.’

Emily didn’t respond, she simply rang the bell and
asked the deferential maid who entered the room to bring her some tea.