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Authors: Iris Gower

Tags: #Historical Saga

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BOOK: The Shoemaker's Daughter
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‘What is it, doctor, what’s wrong with me?’ she asked fearfully.
‘Not very much, my dear, this is simply nature taking her course, you are expecting a child, congratulations.’
Hari was speechless, a child, that was not a possibility she had even considered.
‘I can’t be!’ she said in disbelief. The doctor smiled.
‘No such thing as can’t, my dear, not when you are a young healthy married lady.’
‘When?’ Hari asked, her voice trembling with a mingling of excitement and fear.
‘I’d say in about six or seven months’ time, Mrs Morris, but I really can’t be accurate to the hour, you know.’
Hari was incredulous, ‘How could I not know?’
The doctor was closing his bag. ‘I suppose it didn’t occur to you to check your dates,’ he said smiling. ‘The lack of courses is something many women overlook for quite some time.’
He moved to the door. ‘I shall leave you now to break the good news to your husband, tell him from me to look after you, not let you work too hard.’
After a few moments, Edward returned to the room, his face long with anxiety. He sat at the side of the bed and took her hand.
‘The doctor said you had news for me, what sort of news, Hari? Tell me quickly before I die of fright.’
‘We’re going to have a baby, Edward.’ Hari still could not bring herself to believe it. ‘You and me, we are going to be parents.’
Edward looked as incredulous as Hari felt and then with a whoop of joy, he took her in his arms and hugged her close.
‘My clever little girl,’ he said, his voice hoarse, ‘my dear clever little girl.’
Hari held him away laughing. ‘All right, don’t smother me, you had something to do with it too, remember.’
Edward sighed. ‘It will be a boy, I just know it will, our son, what shall we call him?’ He cradled her gently, his cheek against her hair. ‘Joseph perhaps after my father.’
‘Or Dewi after mine!’ Hari retorted. ‘Mind, it could easily be a girl, a sweet pretty little thing who will grow up to be a lady like her mam.’
‘Don’t talk such rubbish,’ Edward said, ‘being a lady means having kindness and good manners not material possessions, remember that.’
‘Call Will,’ Hari said on impulse, ‘after you, he must be the first to know.’
‘Aye, all right. While he’s with you, I’ll slip round to the office, bring some work home, I can’t bear to leave you for a whole day, not today at least.’
Will was so pale and worried that Hari held out her arms to him.
‘Will,’ she said softly, ‘I’m not sick, I’m just going to have a baby, it will be like a brother or sister for you. Will, what do you think?’
Will nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, we’ll have to take good care of you because my mam was very bad with the last baby, mind.’
‘I know, Will.’ Hari held him close for a moment. ‘But I am more fortunate than your mam, remember, I’ve got a husband who can look after me and Will, you are older now, you can look after me, too.’
‘I suppose so.’ He sounded doubtful, ‘But what about your work with Mr Grenfell, you’ll have to give that up, won’t you?’
Hari felt a cold chill run over her, that was something she had not thought about. What would Craig make of her news, would he be upset that she was spoiling his plans?
But she could still do some of the work, she could at least make designs and have Lewis and Ben execute them, they were both skilled enough.
But could they add the little touches, the tooled patterns, the dainty hand stitching, for ladies’ slippers?
Hari sighed, some of her exuberance vanishing. ‘I shall work for a few months anyway, Will,’ she said, ‘a little bit of stitching and sewing won’t harm me.’
‘Did you know that Miss Emily has employed shoemakers to work for her?’ Will asked. ‘I know she’s got Mr Miller who is a good man and some other boot repairers are working from home soling and heeling, taking our work, they are, mind.’
So Emily wasn’t content to buy in stock from outside, she wanted the repairs as well. ‘No, Will, I didn’t know,’ Hari said softly. ‘Where did you hear about it?’
Will shrugged, ‘The news is everywhere, all the boot and shoemakers want to go to work for Emily, offering over the odds in pay, she is, five shillings on top of the normal earnings for a week, no-one can afford to turn that down.’
‘I suppose not,’ Hari said softly, wondering if her own hitherto loyal workers would want to leave and work for Emily too.
‘Be a pal, Will,’ Hari said, ‘go and make me a cuppa, there’s a good man, I’m gasping with thirst.’
Will walked to the door and stared back at her gravely. ‘Have to have a new maid now, I know the other one was so nosy that she had to go, but you’ll need more than a housekeeper now mind, can’t have you doing house cleaning and washing sheets, that’s what got my mam down, see.’
‘I think you are right, Will.’ Hari felt tears constrict her throat at the concern in the boy’s voice. ‘I’ll speak to Edward about it when he comes home.’
When she was alone, Hari sat up and stared out of the window into Chapel Street, a baby, she Hari Morgan, no Hari Morris now, she was going to have a baby, it was scarcely believable. And in the midst of her joy and excitement, Hari knew that there would be choices to be made and the choosing would not be easy.
20
The hot summer day had brought out the crowds; Wind Street was thronged with people, mostly women looking for bargains in Emily’s Emporium.
Emily stood in the doorway and welcomed her customers, smiling and nodding, addressing the regulars by name.
Suddenly business was booming, Emily no longer need worry about money for stock, her shop was excellently equipped and there was money in reserve in case the cold winds of trouble began to blow.
A large figure loomed in the doorway, dark against the sunlight. Emily blinked and then frowned. ‘Craig, is there anything I can do for you?’
‘Yes,’ Craig said easily, ‘I think it’s time we forgot our differences and acted like civilized beings again.’ He seemed unusually subdued.
‘Is there anything wrong, your mother?’
‘My mother is well enough,’ Craig said, ‘indeed she wants to see you again, quite soon, she insists it’s been too long since we all had dinner together.
‘But I am worried,’ he continued, ‘it’s Spencer I want to talk to you about.’
Emily sighed, she and Craig were kin after all and she owed him some loyalty.
‘If I can help in any way then of course I will,’ she said quietly.
Craig smiled, ‘I’m glad about that, Emily, I would very much like to ask your advice.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Emily felt flattered and she realized, in that instant, that the ice had begun to thaw in her relationship with her cousin. He had come to her not in his usual, arrogant, patronizing way but to ask her help and she would give it gladly.
She slipped her arm through his in an uncharacteristic gesture. ‘Come upstairs and have some iced tea and tell me what’s wrong. I can spare a little time from the emporium, it almost runs itself now.’
‘Things are going well then?’ Craig said smiling down at her and Emily saw afresh how handsome her cousin was. Handsome and charming but not the man for her, or was he?
Emily had a quick word with Sarah who nodded willingly and hurried from the shop. Upstairs, with the windows of her rooms wide open, a cool breeze lifted the curtains and drifted refreshingly to where Emily stood.
‘It’s very pleasant here,’ Craig said, waiting for her to be seated before taking a chair himself.
‘Not as pleasant as Summer Lodge,’ Emily said ruefully, ‘but it comes a close second.’
Craig leaned forward. ‘Come over there this evening, have supper with me and my mother, it’s about time we began to act like cousins not enemies.’
‘Why not?’ Emily said avoiding his gaze, ‘I’d like to see Aunt Sophie again, I’ll have a cab bring me over about eight o’clock.’
Sarah bustled in with the tea tray and Craig sat back in his chair. ‘Good, we’ll talk then, I think it’s better.’
He was looking tired, Emily thought, Craig was clearly troubled but he would talk to her, all in good time, and suddenly Emily felt glad about it, happy that she could once more be part of a family. He did not stay long and once he was gone Emily wondered if his supposed worry about his brother was simply a ploy to gain her attention, but then why should Craig bother? No, he must really have a problem he needed to talk about.
Emily looked forward to the evening with mixed feelings. She dressed with care and brushed out her dark chestnut hair until it shone. She wanted to look her best, prove to Craig that she was now in total control of her own destiny. And yet, there was a tinge of apprehension about her feelings, something must be very wrong for Craig to approach her for help.
Summer Lodge looked the same and yet different, the building was as mellow as ever outside but colourful drapes hung at the windows instead of the faded ones she had been used to.
‘Come in, you are looking very beautiful,’ Craig welcomed her, leading her to a chair near the fire. Aunt Sophie smiled a little frostily at her.
‘It’s a little chilly tonight, dear Emily, it was good of you to come out on such a night,’ she said with forced brightness.
Craig moved to the sideboard. ‘Would you like a glass of port, Emily?’
‘Yes please.’ Emily smiled. ‘I feel quite strange being here in my old house again.’ She took a seat and sipped the drink Craig had handed her. ‘But I do realize that I was wrong to blame you for inheriting Summer Lodge, it was inevitable, really, I suppose.’
Emily glanced round her. ‘It seems very quiet here, I can’t hear any servants around. There used to be such a lot of activity in the kitchens when I lived here.’
‘I haven’t got the staff you had, Emily,’ Craig said, ‘I can’t afford them. I only have an old couple who do a bit around the place for me. Supper is on a tray, I’m afraid, but I don’t think we’ll starve.’
Aunt Sophie sniffed disapprovingly, ‘Keep up standards, I say, Craig, keep up standards.’
Emily held out her glass as Craig offered more wine. ‘I took the servants for granted, I’m afraid,’ she said, ‘why didn’t I wake up sooner to what was going on under my nose?’
‘You were not told anything about the business, your father treated you like a child, it wasn’t all your fault, Emily, so don’t blame yourself,’ Aunt Sophie said quickly. ‘I still don’t approve of you meddling in business affairs, child, that sort of thing should be left to the men of the family.’
Emily sat back in her chair, resisting the urge to remind her aunt that it was one of the men of the family who caused all the trouble.
‘Tell me,’ she leaned forward, ‘what’s the problem with Spencer, is he sick?’
Craig shook his head. ‘If only it was that easy. No, he’s what you might call unbalanced.’
‘Don’t say that!’ Aunt Sophie said indignantly. ‘Spencer has trouble with his nerves, that’s all.’
Emily sat up straight, ‘When did this . . . this nervous thing come on him?’
‘It was after the fever,’ Aunt Sophie interrupted, ‘he never really recovered his strength, you see. I sent him to one of the aunts in the country and now she has written to say she can’t cope with Spencer’s moods any longer.’
‘What about you, Aunt Sophie, can’t you look after him?’ Emily said.
‘My mother is not happy about it, but she will have to take him at least for a time.’ Craig spoke ruefully as his mother’s mouth twisted into a grimace of distaste. ‘If that doesn’t work out, I have the choice of putting him in a hospital or hiring a nurse to look after him here. What would you suggest, Emily?’
Emily sighed. ‘It’s difficult, Craig, but if he’s really sick perhaps a hospital would be the best thing all round.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘I’ll do anything I can to help you, Craig.’
He leaned forward and touched her hand. ‘I may take you up on that offer one day, Emily.’
They both picked at the supper of cold meat pie and pickles and though the freshly cut bread was crusty and fresh, Emily scarcely tasted it. Aunt Sophie on the other hand ate with relish, her worries about her youngest son seemingly forgotten.
Craig refilled her glass and Emily felt closer to him than she’d done for some time.
‘Why haven’t you married, Emily?’ Craig spoke gently. ‘You are a very beautiful and desirable young woman and haven’t you got the Grenfell blood running in your veins? You’d be a wonderful catch for any man.’
Emily thought briefly of Miller who worked close to her and who was alarmingly attractive and smiled ruefully.
‘If you’d asked me that before my father died I would have said I only wanted to be married to you, now . . .’ she shrugged, her words trailing away.
‘Don’t talk about such things now,’ Aunt Sophie said, ‘we have more important considerations at the moment.’ She rose to her feet.
‘I wish to go to bed, I trust my room is ready and that the fire is well stocked with coal, I don’t want to catch a chill.’
Emily rose, it was time for her to leave. ‘I’ll see you home,’ Craig said with an impatient glance at his mother.
In the darkness of the carriage, Emily felt Craig’s hand resting upon her own.
‘Why not get married?’ he said. ‘Why don’t we go ahead with the wedding as we always planned?’
‘Craig, you don’t mean it?’ Emily said, ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Why not?’ Craig repeated. ‘Are you in love with anyone else?’
‘No,’ Emily said but it wasn’t strictly true, she could so easily fall in love with John Miller. But such a thing was out of the question, she couldn’t even think of marrying a cobbler.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said, ‘I suppose we could try to make a go of it. As you said, Craig, it would bring our families together again.’
The scent of Craig’s soap-clean skin drifted towards her, Emily felt cocooned from reality in the close darkness of the carriage.
BOOK: The Shoemaker's Daughter
8.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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