Firebird (44 page)

‘Fine.' He sat down. ‘I've checked out so many pots and jugs that I think I'll see them in my sleep.'

‘Have some pie, Binnie.' Mrs McCabe handed him a plate and the rich aroma of meat rose appetizingly and he realized how hungry he was.

‘Have some sweet corn and potatoes, Mr Dundee.' Hortense was the oldest of the girls. Her dark hair was tied back in a severe knot. She was by no means a beautiful girl but there was something about her eyes and about the seductive swell of her breasts beneath her bodice that made Binnie feel glad he was a man.

Melia, not to be outdone, handed him a jug of lemon juice, her blue eyes smiling into his. He sat back in his chair, it was good to be waited on. He was a welcome guest, much admired, and it was a wonderful feeling.

After supper, Dan McCabe took his fiddle out onto the porch and began to play a haunting tune. The women busied themselves clearing up the dishes and Binnie, knowing he would never be allowed to lift a finger to help, joined Dan under the starlit sky.

‘Here.' Dan handed him a jug. ‘Take out the cork and get a sniff of that.'

Binnie did as he was told and the strong smell of liquor rose to greet him. ‘Good stuff?'

‘The best. Get some down your throat and pass the jug to me and whatever you do, don't let on to the womenfolk that I got this here liquor in the house.'

Binnie knew that he had reached a new stage in his relationship with the McCabe family; he was being accepted by the man of the house and his position as a friend established.

‘Beautiful!' he said appreciatively. Binnie took another drink and passed the jug to Dan. ‘Where do you get it?'

‘Make it myself.' Dan's uneven teeth showed beneath his straggling moustache. ‘Got a still out back. The women think it's for making potions and such. They only drink it when there's a chill on them.'

‘You've got a good life here, Dan, what with your pottery, your comfortable house, a fine hard-working wife and three pretty daughters.'

‘Aye, well I got it all with these.' Dan held out his big hands, the fingers broad and callused. He was a man who had worked hard for what he possessed.

He looked around him. ‘Built this house myself. Such carrying of timber, such sawing and such cussing you never did see. But I got it done. Out here, a man's got to be a man, especially when there's womenfolk to pay mind to.'

He looked at Binnie thoughtfully. ‘My only regret is that I never got me a boy of my own, a son to foller in my footsteps.'

‘You have three lovely girls, I expect they'll give you plenty of grandsons.' As soon as Binnie spoke, he realized that Dan was making plans for one of those girls, plans that involved Binnie Dundee.

He toyed with the idea of telling Dan the truth, that he was a married man with a child, but the words stuck in his throat. He would be a fool to ruin the good thing he had going here.

‘You'll be looking for a wife right soon, I 'spects. You seem like a fine red-blooded fella to me, the kind that needs a good woman around.'

‘You're not wrong.' Binnie spoke ruefully. ‘It's a very long time since I've had the pleasure of bedding a woman. Oh, excuse me, Dan, I hope I haven't offended you or anything.'

Dan laughed out loud. ‘Lord, you won't offend me, boy. I've had more women than slices of Mrs McCabe's pie. Still, you are a young sprat and the blood is wild. My advice to you is to keep away from the whore-house. One of them gels gets their claws into you and before you know it you are facing the preacher man, taking on other men's leavin's.'

‘I'm sure you're right, Dan. In any case, I'm not that desperate. I can wait until the right girl comes into my life.' Binnie had hoped his words would discourage Dan from thinking of him as a prospective son-in-law but they had the opposite effect.

‘Good for you, boy. You got your chance to meet fine respectable gels right here under your nose. An' if you marries into the McCabe family, you gets all the help you could want regarding the building of a property and all. You think about it, son. Here, have another swig of this.'

Later, the women joined the men on the porch and Dan began to play some melodies on the battered fiddle. The girls' voices were sweet and harmonious and, relaxed by the home-made liquor, Binnie began to feel that marriage to one of them would not be such a bad idea. So he was already married to a woman back home but how could anyone find out about it?

As he listened to the music, Binnie warmed to the idea of marrying into the McCabe family. He would get himself a good home, a pretty, amenable wife and an easy living, what more could any man want? He pushed the thought of Maura to the back of his mind, that was his old life. Here, in America, he was beginning afresh.

‘So, Lloyd.' Eynon was sitting opposite Lloyd Savage in the sitting-room of Pottery House. ‘What I would like is to take a more active part in the running of the pottery.' He could see that Lloyd had become older, he looked careworn, tired.

‘You know the problems we are having with someone buying up the surrounding land?' Lloyd said. ‘We might not have a pottery to run in a few weeks' time.'

‘I have ideas about that,' Eynon said. ‘But leave that with me, Lloyd, I think I will be able to sort it all out for you.'

‘In that case, you are welcome in the camp.' Lloyd smiled. ‘Most welcome. I think it's about time I gave up, handed over the reins, I'm getting too old for all this aggravation.'

Eynon rose and picked up his hat and stick. ‘How is Llinos?'

‘All right,' Lloyd said. ‘She's been looking after me, I've told her to go back to work if she wants to but she won't have it. I expect she's in her room. Do you want to see her?'

‘No, don't disturb her, this was not a social call, not really. All right, Lloyd, with your permission, I'll get working on the problems right away.'

‘That's good to hear,' Lloyd said. ‘I wish you luck in whatever it is you are planning, Eynon.'

Outside in the row Eynon handed a coin to the boy who had been looking after his horse.

‘Thank you, Watt, it is Watt, isn't it? You've grown so much I hardly recognize you.'

‘Yes, sir, Mr Morton-Edwards, thank you, sir.' Watt pocketed the coin quickly and handed over the reins with reluctance; it had been pleasurable to stand caressing the neck of the big creature instead of carrying loads of waste clay to the bins.

Eynon was about to ride away when Joe came silently out of the gates of the pottery and stood still, like a shadow beside the high wall.

Eynon's first instinct was to act as though he had not seen Joe, but such behaviour was unbecoming to his new-found determination to face life head on.

‘Joe, good day to you.' Curse Joe! He was a handsome devil with his black hair and high cheekbones and fine strong frame. And yet Eynon could not dislike him even though Joe was, perhaps, the one impediment between him and Llinos.

‘You are looking well, Eynon,' Joe said, smiling. ‘You seem different, stronger. I never did give you those lessons in defence I promised, did I?'

‘No, you did not. How about making up for it now?' Eynon said. ‘That's if you are not too busy.'

‘I'm not busy at all.' Did Joe sound a little disgruntled with his lot?

‘Well, what if you come up to my place, say three times a week, early in the morning would be fine.'

‘What if I come up there every day? That way you will learn the art of defending yourself much more quickly.'

‘Right, Joe, it's a deal. I'll see you tomorrow at sunrise.'

As Eynon rode away, he felt happier thai he had done in a long time. He was becoming stronger and soon he would be strong enough to fight any battle that came his way.

It was a week later when Philip Morton-Edwards arrived at Eynon's house, his face reddened by the wind, his eyes gleaming with anger.

‘What do you think you are up to, Eynon?' Philip stared at his son as though he had grown horns. Eynon would have smiled if the situation had not been so serious. ‘I understand you have bought the waste land to the rear of the potteries and intend to build a roadway there. Is that correct?'

‘Yes, that's correct. You see, I've changed my mind, Father, I'm fed up with being your whipping boy.'

‘What are you babbling on about now? I just fail to understand you, boy. Changed your mind about what?'

‘You are not usually so slow, Father, I'm not going to run away any more, not from you or from life. I'm taking you on, I'm going to beat you at your own game. Now do you understand?'

‘You are a fool! If you challenge me, you will lose, Eynon. Believe me, if it comes to a fight I will not give any quarter just because you are my son.'

‘Oh, I know that. Indeed, you will be twice as determined to beat me, twice as vindictive. Well, I'll not tell you what I'm up to, you'll just have to wait and see. One thing I will tell you, you are going to learn that you can't always have what you want. You finally pushed me too far and now I want to get even with you for all the insults, all the cruelties you have ever inflicted on me.'

Philip slapped his boot with his riding crop. ‘Well, my boy, there's many ways to catch a fox but you won't be sharp enough to catch this one.' He strode towards the door and paused. ‘I know that half-breed is working with you, I've had reports of him coming up here every day. What for? Neither of you is up to any good. Well, he'll be my first target, just to show you I mean business. Good day to you, son, and good luck!'

Eynon watched his father whip his horse and the animal plunged forward, heels flying. Eynon took up his coat and hat, noticing that Jessie had not come running the way she did when his father called. On reflection, Jessie saw and heard too much: perhaps Philip paid her to keep her eyes open, it would explain a great deal.

He left the house, deciding to walk into town. It was a fine day and a walk would strengthen his legs. He had made good progress in the last few days, finding he was quick to learn Joe's lessons in defence. Strength, as Joe kept insisting, began in the mind.

Eynon made his way downhill into the valley and out onto the busy streets that led to the Savage Pottery. He needed to see Lloyd and while he was at the pottery he would have a word with Joe, he would warn him about Philip's threats. Not that Joe would be worried by them, he was well able to take care of himself.

Eynon stepped out more briskly, taking great gulps of fresh air, it was a fine day with the sun shining and it was good to be alive.

Llinos had woken to the early-morning light and as she stared around the bedroom, aware of the sun slanting in through the bright curtains and the smell of beeswax polish rising from furniture, she had the feeling that something was wrong.

Her father was already in the garden, tying up a trailing rose-bush. He looked better, Llinos thought, more rested, and she wondered what was responsible for the improvement. Hopefully, it was her return home.

‘Morning, Father.' She kissed the top of his head. ‘What a heavenly scent of roses, aren't they lovely?'

He grunted some response and Llinos patted his shoulder. ‘Had breakfast yet?'

He shook his head.

‘I'm sure the cook is seeing to it,' she said, ‘I'll go and find out.' She stared around her, wondering why her feelings of pessimism were persisting. Perhaps after a cup of warm milk and some food she would feel better.

There were only two places laid in the dining-room. Llinos lifted her head, suddenly aware that the house felt empty in spite of the clatter of dishes from the kitchen and the sound of the groom outside tacking up one of the horses.

She felt her heart freeze. She stood quite still for a moment and then, galvanized by fear, she ran upstairs to the back bedroom. It was empty.

She opened cupboards and drawers with frantic haste. All were bare. She sank onto the neatly made bed, her head in her hands and the tears forced hot trails between her fingers.

‘Joe!' She spoke his name but she knew there would be no reply. Joe had gone away. He had simply packed his few belongings and left and she had the feeling that he might never return.

‘Llinos! Come down here, have a look at this.' Her father was calling from the bottom of the stairs. He sounded anxious and she wiped her eyes, not wanting him to see her tears.

She descended the stairs two at a time. ‘Father, what is it, have you seen Joe?'

He was in the hall, holding out a letter and she took it with trembling fingers. The words did not make sense, the letter was not from Joe but from a solicitor. Llinos swallowed hard and tried to concentrate.

‘They can't do this to us, Father,' she said at last.

‘They've already done it.'

Llinos stared at the official-looking document, trying to think clearly. ‘So we may not even have access to the end of the road without the permission of this . . . this Mrs Sanders. Who is she, anyway?'

‘That's easy enough to work out.' Lloyd sounded bitter. ‘Morton-Edwards has got a dupe to front the scheme for him so that no speck of dirt can fall on his precious name.'

‘That's not true, Father. I spoke to Philip about it and he was as concerned as we are.'

‘Can't you see further than your nose, girl?' Lloyd sounded weary. ‘The man is a Janus, he has two faces.'

‘No, Father, you're wrong, I know you are.'

‘I'm not wrong.'

Llinos took the letter and went slowly into the drawing-room, trying to sort out her bewildered thoughts. She sank down into a chair and read the letter again, staring at the fine sloping handwriting. The tone was official, warning the proprietors of the Savage Pottery not to trade across the land to the fore and the side of the buildings. Furthermore, an injunction had been taken out to prevent any building work being carried out on the land to the rear of the property.