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Authors: Iris Gower

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BOOK: The Shoemaker's Daughter
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By the time she reached the doorway of her house, Hetty knew there was something badly wrong. Her arms felt weak and Hetty was forced to put David down on the mat where he wobbled precariously before gaining his balance. He pointed up at her and Hetty tried to speak to him, to comfort him but the words would not come.
Hetty looked about her, trying to see through the haze that shrouded her eyes, if only someone would come to help her, where were all her boarders? Of course, they’d gone to the theatre in Goat Street, eager to see what Hari had achieved.
She suddenly felt a blackness pressing in on her, she fell to her knees and slumped against the wall, staring around her desperately.
And then, it was as though her prayers were answered, a young couple were coming down the passage towards her, she tried to force herself to concentrate, held up her hand but she could not speak.
‘What’s this? It looks as though the woman’s drunk!’ the man said. ‘Well, it makes things a bit easier for us.’
Hetty tried to protest that she was not drunk but sick and yet the mist before her eyes was growing thicker. Dimly she recognized that the girl was Sarah Miller, she would help surely?
Hetty saw the young man pick David up and stare at him. ‘So this is Hari Morris’s bastard is it?’ he said. ‘Son of the high and mighty Craig Grenfell?’
‘That’s right.’ Sarah looked around nervously, ‘Come on, Sam, let’s get out of here.’
‘Here’s my chance to get even with that bitch of a shoemaker and to earn myself a tidy packet at the same time,’ Sam said. ‘Sod Spencer Grenfell, it might have been his idea to take the kid but I’m the one taking all the risk.’
He moved to the door and Hetty tried to call out but her head was spinning.
‘I’m going to take this kid somewhere where no-one will find him.’ Sam Payton paused thoughtfully. ‘I know, up on the workings above Cwmbwrla, the very place.’ He smiled. ‘And I’m going to ask a fancy price for returning the brat unharmed.’
Hetty could see the mouths moving but she could no longer hear the words the two young people were speaking.
Hetty’s eyes closed as she lapsed into unconsciousness and when she opened them again, she was alone, the young couple had gone and so had David.
She tried to call out but it was useless, her voice was little more than a feeble croak. Hetty felt her senses reel and then a full obliterating darkness overcame her.
Hari looked round the shop with a rising sense of triumph, the crowds of people who had come to attend the opening exceeded her expectation, it was going to be all right, no, it would be more than just ‘all right’, the new shop would be a great success.
Charlie’s Fine Leather Store as she had decided to call the shop, would soon be an integral part of Swansea, as well established as Emily’s Emporium and serving the public not with machine-made stock but with the fine individual designs for which Hari had become known.
‘It seems to be going well.’ Meg came to stand beside Hari, watching as Lewis moved among the crowds, elegant in his new suit bought for the occasion, an order book in his hand.
‘Your idea of having a young man to serve the ladies seems to be working,’ Hari said softly, ‘and see, even the men who are looking for boots are more comfortable talking to Lewis.’
‘He’s a good cobbler and a good friend,’ Hari agreed and Meg smiled warmly. ‘I must admit that I like Lewis very much and I have complete trust in his judgement.’
‘He’s always been very kind,’ Hari said, ‘I think he more than deserves his position of overseer in the shop and what’s more he knows a good piece of leather work when he sees it.’
‘This is a great day for all of us, Hari,’ Meg said gently, ‘Charlie’s in his oils, see how he’s greeting the visitors as if they are the most important people in the world? He’s very good at that.’
Hari heard the pride in Meg’s voice and smiled. Meg looked directly at her catching Hari unawares.
‘I know you’re pleased with the shop, Hari,’ she said gently, ‘and yet you are not really happy, are you?’
Hari raised her hand to her hair in a self-conscious gesture. ‘I’ve a few things on my mind, that’s all. I wish William was here for one thing.’
Hari looked down at her hands knowing that Will wasn’t the only man on her mind, she was thinking of Craig and his apparent rejection of her. She had forced herself to go to his office to buy some French calf, but he had not attended to her personally but had sent his foreman to deal with her order. Perhaps he had given up on her and who could blame him?
Now that her business was beginning to improve again and she could hold up her head, Hari felt the time had come to talk. Craig obviously didn’t feel the same.
‘Can you stay here all day, or do you have to get back for the baby?’ Meg asked and Hari, startled from her thoughts, looked up.
‘Oh, I expect Hetty’ll keep David until supper time,’ she said. ‘I know Hetty wants me to enjoy the opening of the new shop to the full.’
Hari sighed, ‘Thank goodness Hetty is so good with David, he loves her dearly, I’m very lucky, really.’
‘Luck has very little to do with it,’ Meg said forcefully. ‘You are talented as well as enterprising, you have got only what you’ve worked for.’
‘If you say so.’ Hari smiled, ‘Oh dear, there’s Lady Caroline with Elizabeth in tow, I’d better go and do a bit of bowing and scraping, Lady Caroline is very extravagant when it comes to buying shoes!’
Lady Caroline regarded Hari with curiosity, looking down at her through the pince-nez that Hari felt sure were an affectation more than a necessity.
‘I hear you’ve opened up this place with the help of an
actress
?’ Lady Caroline’s tone implied that to be an actress was only one step removed from being a street walker.
‘Meg was an actress,’ Hari agreed smoothly, ‘that was before she married Sir Charles Briant, of course.’
‘I see.’ Lady Caroline digested this information in silence and, behind her back, Elizabeth made a wry face.
‘No matter,’ Lady Caroline said at last, ‘I need some special footwear, I’m tired of seeing the same slippers on all my friends, I want to be different.’
‘That’s what we’re here for, Lady Caroline,’ Hari said evenly. ‘Shall I have Lewis bring you some of my designs?’
‘No, that would not be suitable, my daughter is after all an unmarried lady, it’s not fitting to have any young man taking her foot measurements and looking at her ankles.’
Meg appeared at Hari’s side, ‘Perhaps I can be of some help,’ she said quietly. She turned to Hari. ‘One of the assistants says that someone is asking for you,’ she said quietly, ‘apparently he’s waiting in the foyer.’
Hari excused herself, her heart was beating swiftly, as she moved between the crowds of people, was it possible Craig had come to see her?
But it was not Craig waiting for her in the foyer. ‘William!’ Hari hurried towards him, frowning with concern. William was thinner and a little pale but otherwise he seemed all right. Relief flooded over her as she flung her arms around him.
‘Will! You’ve come back, oh
cariad
, you don’t know how glad I am to see you. I had such a fright when you went off without a word.’
William held her close for a moment and then looked down at her, his face grim.
‘I know and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come home.’ He moved away from her, his hands thrust into his pockets.
‘What’s wrong?’ Hari said, feeling a prickling of apprehension.
‘There’s bad news,’ he said gently, ‘I went back to the house in Salthouse Passage and . . .’ He paused, ‘It’s Hetty, she’s in the hospital.’
Hari felt an iciness wash over her, fear was almost a tangible taste in her mouth.
‘What happened, was there an accident?’ she asked, her voice was thin and indistinct.
‘I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this,’ Will said, ‘but I found Hetty lying in the kitchen, she was unconscious, she must have been taken ill quite suddenly. One of her boarders came in, the old man from upstairs, told me about the shop so I knew where to find you.’
A new dread washed over Hari, ‘Davie,’ she whispered, ‘is he all right?’
Will frowned, ‘Davie? He wasn’t there, there was noone there, except the old man.’
‘Oh, my God!’ Hari slumped against the wall, she didn’t dare imagine what might have happened to her son, had he wandered off alone and was lost and crying for her or had he fallen beneath the wheels of a cart and been killed?
‘My baby,’ she whispered, ‘where are you?’
A feeling of sheer blind panic swamped her and then Hari made an effort to pull herself together. She must be methodical, she must start at Hetty’s house, find out if David had been left there asleep perhaps. Even now, he might be safely tucked up in bed.
‘Will, come with me,’ she said more calmly. ‘I must look for my son.’
Suddenly Meg was at her side. ‘What is it, Hari?’ she asked anxiously.
Hari explained briefly and then shook her head. ‘It’s best if you stay here for now,’ she said: ‘William and I will go and see what’s happened.’
The journey to Salthouse Passage was interminable. Fear beat at Hari like dark wings and everything seemed unreal, a dreadful nightmare from which she must soon wake.
The house at Salthouse Passage was empty, the door stood open. Though Hari and William searched all the rooms, Davie was nowhere to be found.
Hari forced back her tears. ‘We’ll go to the hospital,’ she decided. ‘Perhaps Hetty has regained consciousness by now, she might have left Davie with someone.’
A feeling of guilt washed over her, in her worry for her child she was forgetting that Hetty might be very sick, near to death even.
At the hospital, the nurse shook her head when Hari asked after Hetty but she allowed them to go into the ward to stand by the bedside for a few minutes.
‘Poor Hetty, what’s happened to you?’ Hari whispered aghast at the sight of Hetty’s white face with her mouth dragged down on one side.
‘It’s some sort of seizure,’ the nurse explained, ‘it happens sometimes particularly with the elderly.’
Strange, Hari mused, she had not thought of Hetty as elderly. Hetty seemed to shudder and then her eyes opened.
‘The baby,’ her voice was slurred, ‘they’ve taken Davie. I’m sorry, Hari, I let you down.’ Hari swallowed hard, her world was turning upside down and there seemed nothing she could do to stop it.
‘No Hetty, you could never let me down, I love you, Hetty. Tell me who has taken Davie, do you know Hetty?’
Hetty shook her head and tried to speak again but the words would not come.
‘Don’t worry,’ Hari said, ‘we’ll get Davie back, it will be all right.’
Hetty made a supreme effort to speak. ‘Go and find the boy, Hari, you go.’
She turned to William and stared up at him imploringly. ‘I’m going to die, aren’t I?’
‘Don’t talk like that, Hetty,’ Will clung to her hand, ‘you’ll get well again, you’ll see.’
Hetty tried to smile but her twisted mouth was contorted. ‘I wouldn’t want to live not like this, I’ve had enough of the world but I want company while I’m leaving it.’ Her voice faded to a whisper and her eyes closed with weariness.
Hari bit her lip, she wanted to stay with Hetty but she couldn’t, she
must
go on searching for Davie.
‘You stay here, Will,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll be all right, I promise you.’
Will looked doubtfully at Hari and then his gaze fell on Hetty who was still clinging to his hand and he nodded.
‘All right, go on you, I’ll come as soon as I can.’
At first sight, the house at World’s End was as Hari had left it that morning. Upstairs, her boarders went about their business, none of them having seen anything out of the ordinary.
Hari moved around the house, searching for she knew not what, something, anything that would give her news of her son. And over everything hung the cloud of Hetty’s awful sickness.
Hari went into the workshop and suddenly she saw it, a note was pinned to the bench, with a message scrawled in large untidy handwriting.
Hari took up the note and read the ill-printed words out loud.
‘If you want to see your kid alive you’d best start collecting money, a heap of it.’
Hari sank down on to the stool and stared at the note as if it could tell her where her son was.
‘What does it mean?’ she said aloud, her voice trembling, ‘what does it
mean
?’
She straightened her shoulders. ‘It means,’ she told herself, ‘that Davie is alive, and that’s what counts.’
37
‘I hate it here!’ Sarah Miller stared out through the window of the shed that stood on the slopes of the hill, built against an outcrop of solid rock situated above the valley of Cwmbwrla. ‘I can’t stand all that booming noise, are you sure the workmen won’t be blasting down by here?’
‘Don’t talk soft girl!’ Sam Payton’s voice was rough. ‘If they was going to blast here would they put up a shed on the land?’
‘I suppose not.’ Sarah looked round at the empty shed with just a solitary mug lying on the floor and then she glanced at the child sleeping on a bundle of rags.
‘Well, I’m not staying here long, mind, I don’t want a kid around my skirts that’s why I upped and left home.’ She pouted at Sam.
‘Emily wanted a baby, well she can have mine, I don’t want it.’
‘Aye, lot of noise and trouble they are right enough.’ Sam rose to his feet. ‘Well, my second note is ready, think a thousand pounds is enough to ask?’
Sarah looked up at him, Sam was not all that bright, she decided.
‘It’s about all Hari could raise I should think,’ she said, ‘that sort of money won’t be lying about the place, mind.’
‘Well, don’t be clever, I know that much myself,’ Sam said. ‘But Grenfell must be worth ten times that at least.’
‘Yes, why not go to him direct then?’ Sarah said placatingly. ‘Just let’s get what we can quickly, is it? If we ask for more, they might just get the constables in.’
BOOK: The Shoemaker's Daughter
13.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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