Demelza (21 page)

The banker sneezed. 'Verity was in to stay the night early this week. She is looking in improved health, don't you think?'

'They have all stood up to the closing of Grambler better than I expected.'

Pascoe walked with him to the door. 'You have heard, I imagine, that there are r-rumours again attaching to Miss Verity's name.'

Ross stopped. 'I have heard nothing.'

'Perhaps I should not have m-mentioned it, but I thought you should know. You and she have always been so close to one another.'

'Well, what is the rumour?' Ross spoke with impatience. Pascoe did not know the cause of Ross's bitter hostility to the word.

'Oh, well, it is to do with that Blamey fellow. Word has c-come from several sources that they have been seen meeting again.'

'Verity and Blamey? What are your sources?'

'If you prefer to disregard it, pray forget I spoke. I have no wish to pass on irresponsible gossip.'

Ross said: 'Thank you for the information that it is abroad. I'll take steps to smoke it out.'

AS HE RODE home his thoughts were not stable for a moment. Eighteen months ago he had known himself happy and with prevision had tried to hold the mood as long as it would stay. He was not now discontented, but he was too restless, too preoccupied. Each day led so relentlessly to the next, linked by cause and effect, anticipation and result, preparation and achievement. The chance suggestion made to Blewett nine months ago had led him into a web of new things.

Verity and Blamey? The arrogant man he had seen on the day after Julia's christening had lost everything he had ever had in common with the gentle self-restrained Verity. It could not be. Some evil-minded old crone had hatched it from her own brooding. There was as much truth in it as the slander he had heard on Jud's lips.

There had been no reconciliation between himself and the Paynters. Demelza visited Prudie sometimes, but that was all. Jud was working irregularly for Trencrom, who could always use a man with sailing experience and no scruples. In between times he went the round of the kiddleys and lectured men on their shortcomings.

As for the Gimletts, they had fulfilled all their earlier promise. With plump bounding good humour they trotted about the house and the farm, often working from pleasure when need was satisfied. Jinny had been back at Nampara since Christmas. In the end she had asked to return, common sense and lack of money prevailing over her shyness.

Ross had not seen Jim again, though all winter he had thought of riding to Bodmin and taking Dwight Enys with him. The copper company had taken all his attention. Many a time he had wished he could resign. He was short of the tact and patience to gain the interest of the men of substance, to support their interest when gained and to make all sorts of little adjustments to placate their self-esteem. For that Richard Tonkin was invaluable. Without Richard Tonkin they would have been lost.

But without Ross too they would have been lost, although he did not realize it. He was the stiffening, the unyielding element and a large part of the driving power. Men accepted his integrity where with another they would have asked: 'What has he to gain?'

Well, the company was on its feet now, alive and ready to begin the struggle. And the winter was over, and men and women had come through it (most of them); and the children had whimpered and survived (some of them). The law made it difficult for men to move out of their own district - lest they become a burden upon another parish - but a few had trekked to the waterfronts of Falmouth and Plymouth or to seek a pittance in the inland towns. The rapid-growing population of the mining districts had been checked in a single year.

And the King had gone mad and fought with his gaolers and been ill-treated by them and had torn up his curtains; and young Pitt, his patron locked away, had been preparing for retirement from public life, bowing to the whims of Fate and considering a career at the Bar; and the Prince of Wales, with Mrs FitzHerbert to restrain his worst blatancies, had come back from Brighton to accept a regency, which young Pitt had the insolence to oppose. And the King had recovered just in time to put his son's hopes out of joint; so all was back where it began, except that George's dislike for Whigs was only less than his dislike for his own family.

And Hastings had come to trial at last. And a clergyman called Cartwright had brought out an extraordinary thing for weaving, which was a power loom worked by a steam engine. In America the Union was complete; a new nation was born, said the
Sherborne Mercury
, of four million people - one quarter black - which might someday be counted of importance. Prussia had spent the winter putting down the freedom of the press and signing an alliance with Poland to guard her back door if she attacked France. France had done nothing. A palsy had fallen on the splendid court while men died of hunger in the streets.

And Wheal Leisure had moderately prospered all through the winter, though the money Ross made had gone quickly enough, most into the Carnmore Company. A little went to buy a horse for Demelza, and a small nest egg of two hundred pounds he was keeping by for emergency.

As he neared Grambler he saw Verity coming towards him from the direction of the village.

'Why, Ross, imagine meeting you,' she said. 'I have been over to see Demelza. She complains that you neglect her. We have had a long talk, which would have lasted until sundown if Garrick had not upset the tea tray with his tail and wakened Julia from her afternoon nap. We have chattered away like two old fish jousters waiting for the nets to come.'

Ross glanced at his cousin with new eyes. There was something in her gaze, her manner was lively. He got down in alarm.

'What have you been hatching in my house this afternoon?'

The question was so well directed that Verity coloured. 'I went over to see if the Sherborne man had brought you an invitation as he had us. Curiosity, my dear. Women are never satisfied unless they know their neighbours' business.'

'And has he?'

'Yes.'

'An invitation to what?'

Verity tucked in a wisp of hair. 'Well, cousin, it is waiting you at home. I hadn't thought to mention it but you surprised it out of me.'

'Then let me surprise the rest, so that I may know all the news at once.'

Verity met his eyes and smiled. 'Have patience, my dear. It is Demelza's secret now.'

Ross grunted. 'I have not seen Francis or Elizabeth. Are they prospering?'

'Prospering is not the word, my dear. Francis is so heavy in debt that it looks as if we shall never struggle clear. But at least he has had the courage to withdraw from the Warleggan circle. Elizabeth - well, Elizabeth is very patient with him. I think she is glad to have him more at home; but I wish - perhaps her patience would be more fruitful if it had a little more understanding in it. One can be kind without being sympathetic. Perhaps that is unjust.' Verity looked suddenly distressed. 'I don't take Francis's part because he is my brother. Really it is all his fault… or - or seems to be… He threw away his money when he had it. If the money he squandered had been available there would have been more to finance the mine at the last…

Ross knew why Francis stayed away from the Warleggans and drank at home: Margaret Cartland, finding his money gone, had thrown him over.

'Demelza will blame me for keeping you, Ross. Be on your way, my dear; you must be tired.'

He put his hand on her shoulder a moment and looked at her. Then he got on his horse. 'Tired of hearing men talk of their mines and the price of copper. Your conversation has more variety, and you never give me the opportunity of tiring of it. Now you keep your secrets for Demelza and run away before I come home.'

'Indeed not, Ross,' Verity said, blushing again. 'If I call when you are away it is because I think Demelza may be lonely; and if I go before you come it is because I think you want your hours at home with her. You offend me.'

He laughed. 'Bless you. I know I do not.'

He rode on. Yes, there was a change. Twice he had been on the point of mentioning Blamey's name, twice he had baulked at the fence. Now he was glad. If there was anything there, let it be hidden from him. He had borne the responsibility of knowing once.

As he passed Grambler Mine he glanced over it. One or two windows of the office had been blown in and sprays of weeds grew here and there between the stones of the paved path. Wherever was metal was brown rust. The grass round the mine was an unusual vivid green, and in some corners heaps of blown sand had gathered. Some children had made a rough swing out of a piece of old rope and had hung it across a beam of the washing floors. A dozen sheep had wandered up to the engine house and were grazing peacefully in the afternoon silence.

He moved on and reached his own land and rode down into the valley; and from far off could hear Demelza playing the spinet. The sound came up to him in a sweet vibration, plaintive and distant. The trees were green-tipped and the catkins were out and a few primroses bloomed in the wet grass. The music was a thread of silver woven into the spring.

A fancy took him to surprise her, and he stopped Darkie and tethered her at the bridge. Then he walked to the house and came into the hall unnoticed. The parlour door was open.

She was there at the spinet in her white muslin frock, the peculiar expression on her face which she always took on when reading music, as if she were just going to bite an apple. All the winter she had been taking lessons from the old woman who had been nurse to the five Teague girls. Mrs Kemp came once a week, and Demelza had shot ahead.

Ross slid into the room. She was playing the music from one of Arne's operas. He listened for some minutes, glad of the scene, glad of the music and the bordering quiet. This was what he came home for.

He stepped silently across the room and kissed the back of her neck. She squeaked, and the spinet stopped on a discord. 'A slip o' the finger and phit, yer dead,' said Ross in Jud's voice. 'Judas! you give me a fright, Ross. Always I'm getting frights of some sort. No wonder I'm a bag of nerves. This is a new device, creepin' in like a tomcat.'

He took her by the ear. 'Who has had Garrick in here where he does not belong, breaking our new Wedgwood? A dog - if he can be called that - no smaller than a cow…'

'You have seen Verity, then? Did she tell you of our - of our…'

He looked into her eager, expectant face. 'Of our what?'

'Our invitation.'

'No. What is that?'

'Ha!' Pleased, she wriggled free from him and danced away to the window. 'That's telling. I'll tell you tomorrow. Or maybe next day. Will that do?'

His keen eyes went round the room and instantly, irritatingly noticed the slip of paper folded under the spice jar on the table.

'Is this it?'

'No, Ross! You mustn't look! Leave it be!' She ran across and they both reached it together, struggled, laughed, her fingers having somehow got inside his. The parchment tore down the middle, and they separated, each holding a piece.

'Oh,' said Demelza, 'now we've spoiled it!'

He was reading. "'On the occasion of the day of national Majesty the King and the mayor will hold…'

'Stop! stop!' she said. 'My part comes in between. Begin again.'

"'On the occasion of the day of national…'

'Thanksgiving,"' she put in, "'set aside to celebrate the recovery to health of His…" Now it's your turn.'

"'Majesty the King, namely April the twenty-third next, the Lord… '''

'''Lieutenant of Cornwall, the High Sheriff, the Burgesses…"'

"'And the Mayor of Truro will hold a Grand Assembly and Ball at the Assembly Rooms…"'

'''Commencing at eight o'clock of that day, preceded by…'''

"'Bonfires and general rejoicings. ''' He looked at his paper again. "'Captain Poldark are invited."'

"'And Mrs,"' she cried, "'to attend." "Captain and Mrs Poldark are invited to attend."'

'It says nothing about that on my invitation,' he objected.

'There! there!' She came up to him and fitted the torn paper with his own piece. "'And Mrs." See, we shall both go this time.'

'Do we each walk in with our own piece?' he asked. 'They would not admit you just as "Mrs". It's altogether too vague.'

'I do not wonder,' she said, 'that they put you to drive the copper companies; for you would drive anyone into bad thoughts.'

'Well, anyway the invitation is useless now,' he said, making a move to drop his half in the fire.

'No, Ross! No!' She caught at his hand and tried to stop him. After a moment or two his mood changed; he gave up the struggle and caught her to him and kissed her. And as suddenly she was quiet, breathing quickly like an animal which knows it has been caught.

'Ross, you shouldn't do that,' she said. 'Not in the day.'

'How much of our crockery did Garrick break?'

'Oh... but two saucers.'

'And how many cups?'

'One, I think… Ross, we shall go to this Assembly?'

'And who let him in here?'

'I think, I believe he just sort of sneaked in. You d'know what he is like. Will never have no for an answer. One minute he was outside and the next he was in.' She wriggled in his grip but this time he had her fast. Her flushed cheek was close to his and he put his nose against it, liking the smell. 'And what of Verity? What news had she?'

'Am I a dandelion?' she said, 'to be snuffed over. Or a carrot to be hung before a – a…'

'A donkey's nose?' He laughed. Then she laughed, and their laughter infected each other.

They sat down on the settle and giggled together. 'I shall wear my apple green and mauve,' she said presently; 'the one I wore at Trenwith the Christmas before last. I don't think I am any fatter now.'

Ross said: 'I shall wear a secondhand wig with curls on the forehead, and scarlet stockings and a coat of green silk embroidered with field mice.'

She giggled again. 'Do you think we should be allowed in as Mrs and Miss Poldark?'

'Or two ends of a donkey,' he suggested. 'We would throw lots who was to be the tail.'