The Shoemaker's Daughter (21 page)
‘As handsome as ever,’ Hari said ruefully. ‘He says he bought in the leather as a good business move and that we shall have to pay the same for it as any other firm would.’
‘In other words he’s doing this to spite me.’ Emily rose to her feet and moved about the cramped room with small, agitated steps.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Hari said slowly, ‘I think he really needs to build up his own business again and he made a very shrewd move in buying in the calf. I wish we could have done it instead of him.’
‘You always defend him,’ Emily said, ‘but then you don’t know Craig as I do.’
‘Then again perhaps you are too close to him,’ Hari said. ‘I don’t think he would stoop to being spiteful to what he regards as a couple of women playing at business.’
‘And doesn’t that anger you?’ Emily demanded. ‘To know that he does not treat our business with the seriousness he would give to a venture undertaken by a man?’
‘It makes me very angry,’ Hari agreed, ‘it also makes me more determined to succeed.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘I’ve been thinking things out and I’ve an idea that I can make very good boots just as well with calf from our own country.’
‘But people like the French calf,’ Emily said, ‘it has a sort of prestige about it.’
‘I know,’ Hari smiled, ‘and I can make Welsh calf just as sought after, I shall play on the fact that it is not foreign but best of Welsh.’ She spoke excitedly. ‘I shall appeal to the patriotism in the townsfolk and, more, I shall make such excellent designs that customers won’t care where the leather came from so long as it bears the stamp of Grenfell and Morgan.’
Emily smiled widely and she looked very beautiful when she smiled, Hari thought enviously.
‘I think you’ve got something there, Hari.’ She sank into her chair. ‘I shall advertise our goods in the
Cambrian
newspaper, claiming that we are the first company to produce all Welsh leather boots and shoes.’
Cambrian
newspaper, claiming that we are the first company to produce all Welsh leather boots and shoes.’
She was flushed with enthusiasm. ‘I shall emphasize the fact that our goods are exclusive and while anybody can buy French calf, only our valued customers can buy hand-crafted goods in fine Welsh leather.’
On an impulse she moved over to Hari and hugged her. ‘Hari, you are a genius! Together we shall make our boot and shoe business the finest in the country.’
Unable to relax, Hari decided to go to her office, she would begin to work on her designs straight away. But as she made her way downstairs, Hari heard the sound of weeping.
‘Will, what is it?’ The boy was sitting on his makeshift bed, tears running down his cheeks, grubby now where he had tried to dash the tears away.
‘It’s my mam,’ he said in a broken voice, ‘she’s been taken bad, real bad. My sister just came for me, told me to come home, says mam might have the fever and won’t last till morning.’
‘I’ll come with you, Will,’ Hari said at once. She stood at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Emily,’ she called, ‘I’ve got to go out, I don’t know how long I’ll be.’
She locked the door of the shop behind her and stared at William’s tear-streaked face, he was only ten years old and already he had known violence and poverty. Now it seemed he would have to cope with death as well.
She sighed heavily, how easy it had been in her few months of pleasant living to forget the mean streets from where she’d come. But the old ways would not be forgotten so easily, she was not, she realized, inured from the pain and anguish of the poor of World’s End.
Will went home regularly with his wages and, for all she knew, he might have already contracted the disease that was taking his mother’s life.
She squared her shoulders, disaster had risen up to confront her and all she could do was face it head on.
14
As soon as Hari entered the hovel where Will had once lived with his family, she smelled the scent of death. She moved to the bundle of rags in the corner upon which lay Bella Davies, her skin an unwholesome yellow, her frame emaciated; skeletal fingers were clawing at the tattered shawl that covered her.
‘Sorry to learn of your trouble, Mr Davies,’ Hari spoke softly to Will’s father who stood moodily near the window, smelling, as usual, of ale. ‘I wondered if there was anything I could do.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, girl, I sent the kids to their auntie further down the block.’ He rubbed at his head. ‘Give the misses a bit of peace, like, not that all the peace in the world could cure what my Bella got.’
Hari could see that he was right, Bella Davies was past medical aid. Still, her suffering could be eased by a little laudanum perhaps.
‘Go for the doctor, Will,’ she said softly and Bill Davies’s head swivelled round.
‘Can’t afford no doctors, don’t you think I’d have fetched one long since if there was money?’ His eyes were moist and Hari saw that he was grieved by his wife’s sickness. She bit her lip, the man wasn’t all bad.
‘I’ll pay for the doctor,’ she said and seeing his face flush she added quickly, ‘I can always take it back a bit at a time out of Will’s pay.’
This seemed to appease Bill Davies and he nodded abruptly to his son. Will hurried out and, in the silence, Hari could hear the sound of his good boots ringing against the cobbles.
She rolled up her sleeves. ‘I’ll boil up some water and give Mrs Davies a nice wash, is it?’ Hari knew the task would be easier for the doctor if some of the grime was cleaned from the woman’s wasted body. ‘It might make her more comfortable, like.’
He nodded his assent and then looked out of the window as though distancing himself from the proceedings. Only by the tightening of his knuckles could Hari tell that he was hurting inside.
Gently she washed Mrs Davies and small groans came from the pallid lips.
‘You hurting her, girl?’ Bill Davies demanded and Hari shook her head.
‘No, just disturbing her from her sleep, that’s all. Don’t worry, I’m being very careful.’
But both she and the man looking at her beseechingly knew that it wasn’t disturbed sleep that was causing Bella Davies’s moans but the sickness that racked her body, the fever draining away the last of her resistance.
The doctor, when he came, nodded abruptly to Bill Davies and glanced curiously at Hari who appeared too clean and well dressed to be part of the family living in such a hovel.
‘Hari Morgan,’ she said by way of explanation, ‘Will here is my apprentice.’
‘James Webber,’ the doctor said briefly and bent over the still form of Bella Davies, frowning in concentration.
His examination was brief and then he administered a small potion which he forced between Bella Davies’s lips.
He looked up and shook his head. ‘She will rest easy until the end,’ he said gently.
Hari followed him to the door. ‘Send your bill to me, doctor,’ she said. ‘Hari Morgan at the boot and shoe emporium in Wind Street.’
‘You shouldn’t be here, young lady,’ he said, ‘the sickness is called yellow fever and it’s very contagious, you must know that.’ He sighed, ‘It seems it was brought in to the port by a ship called the
Hekla
; no-one took the illness on board seriously at first but now the townspeople are being infected. Go home and don’t come here again, that’s my advice.’
Hekla
; no-one took the illness on board seriously at first but now the townspeople are being infected. Go home and don’t come here again, that’s my advice.’
Hari looked at him gravely. ‘Like you, doctor, I just had to come and do what I could.’
He nodded. ‘Well, you can do nothing more. Discard the clothes you are wearing, burn them if you can and then wash yourself thoroughly.’ He smiled bleakly.
‘Most doctors would laugh at me and in truth nothing can keep away the sickness if it is your lot to get it but, in my experience, cleanliness helps.’
He walked away then, his shoulders slumped in an attitude of dejection and Hari had the awful feeling that he feared there would be many more outbreaks of the sickness.
She turned back into the room, she must persuade Will to come home with her, she would see that he washed too and got rid of his clothes, she must do all she could to protect him.
He was kneeling at the side of his mother and Bella’s eyes were open. She tried to smile at her son and then held up her hand shakily to her husband. She could not speak but her lips framed the words, ‘God bless.’
Suddenly Will was weeping, loud gulping sobs that shook his thin frame. Hari swallowed hard as she saw Bella’s frail hand had fallen back on to the shawl and her eyes were suddenly unseeing.
Bill Davies didn’t utter a sound but his head had sunk on to his calloused hands and tears slipped between the grimy fingers.
Hari turned and left the room, this was no place for her, she was an intruder on the family’s grief. And Will would come home to her when he was ready.
Hari walked for a long time without thinking where she was going. It was only when the salt breeze drifted into her face that she realized she was on the pier, staring out at the restless sea. If only she could have done more to help Bella Davies but then it would take riches more than she would ever have to alter the lives of the people of World’s End.
Hari rose and returned home entering the premises from the rear, avoiding any contact with customers or staff. Emily came to the door of her rooms and stared curiously as Hari waved her away.
‘Don’t come near me,’ Hari said hoarsely, ‘at least not before I’ve washed and changed.’
She hurried into the washhouse at the back of the building and stripped off her clothing, pushing the garments deliberately into the flames of the fire.
She took up the bar of carbolic soap and, with the jug of water that was always kept on the floor near the door, she began to scrub herself thoroughly. Her skin felt raw by the time she’d finished but, at last, she was satisfied that she was as clean as she could be.
With just a towel to cover her, she moved towards her rooms and, shivering, opened the drawer of the chest. Listlessly, she took out some fresh clothing and got dressed. Then she moved towards Emily’s rooms.
‘I must warn you,’ she said softly, ‘the sickness that has come to Swansea is yellow fever, it’s very contagious.’
Emily was suddenly pale. ‘How do you know?’ she asked quietly.
‘William’s mam has just died, she may be the first victim but she won’t be the last or so the doctor seemed to think.’
‘Saints preserve us,’ Emily said and Hari waited for the tirade of abuse and accusations that must surely come. By going home with Will, by coming in contact with the sickness directly, Hari was risking not only her own life but Emily’s too.
The anger did not come. ‘You were very brave, Hari,’ Emily said, her chin lifting, ‘I don’t think I could have done what you did, I do admire you. Please, come in and sit down, we shall have some tea, Letty has just made a fresh pot.’
Hari felt tears constrict her throat. ‘You know something, Emily?’ she said hoarsely, ‘you’re not so bad.’
Emily smiled. ‘I take that as a great compliment – coming from you.’
Emily poured the tea and Hari took the delicate china cup, with hands that shook. ‘It’s Will I’m sorry for,’ she said, ‘he’s young to have so much grief.’
‘We’ll help him all we can,’ Emily said softly, ‘and the boy has character, he’ll be all right. I’ve been thinking of giving him lessons, perhaps English and arithmetic to start with. I don’t suppose he’s had the benefit of very much schooling.’
Hari sighed, ‘I don’t suppose he has.’ She finished her tea and put down her cup. ‘But the first thing I have to do for Will is to see that he is washed and that he has some fresh trews.’
‘Always practical.’ Emily smiled, ‘And yet so artistic, a strange combination.’
Hari rose to her feet. ‘I’m going before we start to get really soppy, I’m more used to us quarrelling than being nice to each other.’
As Hari moved to the door, she was aware of Emily rising to her feet.
‘Hari, have you thought what this sickness could do to our business?’
‘No.’ Hari turned to face Emily. ‘What could it do?’
‘If it spreads, people will be afraid to go out, afraid to be in contact with too many people and boots and shoes will be the last thing on their minds.’
‘You’re right,’ Hari said thoughtfully, ‘but let’s hope it won’t come to that, is it?’
Back in her room, Hari sank into a chair and closed her eyes but she could still see the scene at Will’s hovel of a home, the picture of Bella’s gaunt face and the thin hand outstretched in a final blessing on the family she was leaving and, suddenly, Hari was weeping.
The sickness did not become as widespread as Hari had feared but the streets were almost empty and only those who had to venture out did so.
The shop was far from busy but the occasional maidservant brought an order, delivered it quickly and then disappeared. Most of these hurried exchanges were dealt with by Emily, while Hari worked on her designs and supervised the actual making of the shoes.
Will’s family, it seemed, were doomed, one by one the children had succumbed to the sickness, half-starved and weak as they were, they had no resistance to the sickness.
Even Bill Davies who had been a bull of a man was taken and Hari, witnessing the man’s grief, believed that he no longer wished to live.
Hari was forced to break the news to Will. He sat staring up at her, his young face white and strained but he shed no tears.
‘I’m on my own then,’ he said flatly. Hari took him in her arms and held on to him tightly.
‘You’re not on your own, Will, I’m your family now and you are mine, neither of us has anyone else alive in the whole world, we shall comfort each other.’
Will nodded, dry eyed, revealing his grief only by the trembling of his lips.
‘Please Will,’ Hari urged, ‘say you’ll stay with me always and be like the brother I never had. You must look after me as I shall look after you, all right?’
Will could not speak, he just nodded and then stood passively in the circle of her arms, his face set and the control he showed was that of a man not a boy of ten years of age.
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