Sweet Rosie (32 page)

‘Well, we’re all fallible, I suppose.’ She spoke calmly but she was so hurt she felt she would die. The image of Joe with the beautiful Sho Ka in his arms was almost too much to bear. But bear it she would. What else could she do?

The moon was making patterns on the timbers of the ceiling as Binnie climbed into bed beside his wife. Hortense reached towards him, pressing her lips into his neck and he felt the cool of her tears against his skin. His heart leapt with hope; she had missed him as much as he had missed her.

Tentatively, he took her into his arms; he wanted her with an urgency that was greater than any physical need. He had to make her his own again, to stamp himself upon her, to affirm that they were truly man and wife.

She had crept into the bed wearing her cotton nightgown but she slipped out of it, tossing it on the floor. Her breasts were pressing against him, full warm breasts that had suckled his children. How he loved her.

Her passion excited him and he lost himself in the sweetness of her. Desire flamed within him now, blocking out thought. All he knew was that beneath him lay his wife, his Hortense, and together they were reaching new heights in happiness and joy.

In the morning, Binnie’s sons greeted him with bright eager faces and warm arms.

‘Dan,’ Binnie said, his voice thick with emotion, ‘have you helped your mom while I’ve been away?’ Dan nodded. ‘Sure, Dad, I brought in the kindling for the fire and, oh, lots of things.’ He nestled close to his father. ‘But, Daddy, I’m sure glad you’re home.’

They ate breakfast together, a proper family once more, and Binnie could hardly contain the joy that poured through him like wine. And yet, there was a sadness about his wife that bothered him. She had refused to discuss it last night, not wanting to spoil their first moments together but now she would have to talk to him.

Later, Hortense sat with Binnie, her face white, her hands shaking. ‘It’s hard to know where to begin, honey.’ She swallowed hard and, little by little, the story of the tragedy unfolded.

‘There was such a fight. Melia fell, the balcony was rotten, Jo didn’t mean to kill her.’ Hortense’s face crumpled and Binnie took her in his arms, smoothing back her hair.

‘It’s all right, honey,’ he said soothingly. ‘It’s not Jo’s fault.’ It was all down to John Pendennis. That man ruined everything he touched.

‘It was awful, hon. Melia’s funeral was a nightmare.’ Hortense gulped back her tears. ‘Jo lost her baby and Mamma and Daddy shut themselves away and I was alone with no-one to hold me. I longed for you then, Binnie. I saw what a fool I’d been to drive you away. Thank God you’ve come home.’

He kissed her hair, muttering soothing words but in his heart anger burned against John Pendennis. John had managed to wreck the happiness of the entire McCabe family single-handedly. ‘Damn John to hell!’ he said bitterly.

‘Hortense, my lovely girl,’ he cupped her face in his hands, love turning his blood to water, ‘I’m here now and I’ll never leave you again.’

‘I’ll tell you something, Binnie Dundee,’ Hortense said, ‘there’s no chance of you leaving because I’ll never let you out of my sight again.’

He kissed his wife’s soft lips, knowing that he was the luckiest man on God’s earth. He was home again, home with his family. Hortense had forgiven him and from now on, he would make her the happiest woman on earth or he would die in the attempt.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Rosie looked up into Watt’s face trying to read his expression. Tentative questions hovered on her lips but when she tried to speak her courage deserted her. Watt was acting as though their wedding had never taken place and Rosie was reluctant to ask him why. Perhaps she already knew the answer but it hurt to think even for a moment that Watt might not really love her.

In the company of Pearl and the boys, he was his usual smiling self. He drove Pearl and Dom to the pottery every day as usual but his evenings were spent out of the house on some pretext or other.

At first Rosie had comforted herself with the thought that once her mother was well again everything would be all right. The wedding night had been postponed out of necessity; what should have been a joyful event had turned into a nightmare. But even though Pearl was on the mend now Watt still acted like a stranger. If just once he would take Rosie in his arms and tell her he loved her she would be content. But he never did.

When they were alone in the bedroom, he avoided her eyes. They made love in the dark and, untried though she was, inexperienced in the ways of men, Rosie recognized that their swift coupling was born out of physical need rather than love.

Rosie put the pot of rabbit soup rich with vegetables on the table and rubbed her hands against her apron. She must talk to Watt, make him tell her what was wrong. Was he disappointed in her? Did he regret the marriage? She opened her mouth to speak but just then the door burst open and her brothers came rushing into the kitchen, boots clattering on the red flags she had polished so industriously just this morning.

‘Sit down you lot and be quiet!’ Rosie said. ‘I’ll spill the soup if you don’t keep still. And leave the bread alone a minute, will you?’ She threw an exasperated look at Watt. ‘My brothers don’t know how to behave at table, they’re little pigs!’

He nodded but it was clear he was not paying much attention. Rosie felt a dart of unease, was her family getting too much for him? The boys were boisterous, wild sometimes, but they were just behaving like normal youngsters.

She poured the soup and then cut some thick slices of bread and offered them round to the boys. ‘All right then, you can start now.’ She sat at the table and picked up her spoon. Watt was half hidden behind his paper, she could not see his expression clearly but he seemed engrossed in what he was reading.

The soup was hot and nourishing, Rosie congratulated herself on her cooking and it gave her pleasure to see Watt eating heartily. Her spirits lifted; he had promised to take her to the fair in Neath tonight. She would see a bit of life, hear the music of the carousel and mingle with the crowds of other young people enjoying themselves. Then when she and Watt were nicely relaxed she would talk to him about his strange moods.

‘You’ve started without me! I hope there’s some food left, you lot are such gluttons!’ Pearl came into the room smelling of soap and water. Freshly washed, Pearl should have looked well, her colour should have been good, but her skin was parchment thin, sagging into lines around her mouth and eyes. She was far from well and yet she insisted on going to the pottery each day.

‘Are you all right, Mam?’ Rosie asked. ‘You look awful tired.’

‘Course I’m all right, love.’ Pearl sank into a chair. ‘I’ll have a bit of supper and then get off to bed. You don’t mind seeing to the boys, do you, Rosie? Dom’s trews have to be mended for work tomorrow.’ She smiled at her son. ‘You’re settling in well, aren’t you, boy
bach
? We’ll make a potter out of you yet.’

A feeling of resentment brought colour to Rosie’s cheeks. She was being treated like a paid help, head cook and bottle washer. She was young; she needed to have some fun in life.

‘I was going out with Watt, to the fair, Mam.’ She ladled stew into her mother’s bowl. ‘Can’t Dom mend his own trews?’

‘I’m sorry, love, I’d do it but I just feel so damn tired all the time.’ Pearl dipped her spoon into the stew but she was not eating very much. Rosie looked at Watt pushing some bread into his bowl, his head bent; he seemed far away. As her husband, he should have come to her rescue, insisting that she have a night off. Rosie sighed in exasperation.

‘Rosie, can I have some more bread, please?’ Fred, the youngest of the boys was looking at the empty plate with disgust. He was a big lad for his age, almost nine years old. He attended the new school on the outskirts of Swansea and was turning out to be a good little scholar. Rosie loved him dearly but right now she felt like slapping him.

‘What did your last servant die of?’ she demanded. ‘Hard work, was it?’

There was a sudden silence and Rosie was aware of Watt staring at her, his eyebrows raised.

‘Are you all right, Rosie?’ he asked, suddenly giving her his full attention. ‘Come to think of it, you’re looking a bit pale. Perhaps we should give the fair a miss until another time.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m just fine apart from being worked to death round here,’ she said. ‘Being a maid up at the Mainwaring house was easy compared to this!’

How could she tell Watt she felt sick and miserable, bitterly disappointed by his attitude? He was her husband, he should be looking out for her. Didn’t he realize she had been looking forward to the fair all day?

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her resentment fading. ‘I’m just tired, I suppose.’

Pearl pushed away her bowl. ‘No, love, I didn’t think. I’ve been putting on you too much. I’m sorry, love.’ She peered into Rosie’s face. ‘You’re not expecting are you?’

Rosie shook her head. ‘No, Mam, I’m not expecting.’ She thought of the way Watt withdrew himself from her when they made love. He was like the man in the Bible who spilled his seed onto the ground. In any case, how could she bring a baby up in the overcrowded house in Greenhill?

She sighed. ‘But I do feel a bit poorly, Mam, I think I’ll go to lie down for a while.’

She just had to get out of the room before the tears flowed but Fred’s voice followed her. ‘I’m sorry, Rosie, I’m a lazy slug. I should be getting my own bread like I did when you was working.’

Rosie made for the stairs and Pearl called after her, ‘The boys will help you a bit more and so will I, Rosie. I’m real thoughtless putting so much on your shoulders and you just wed. Look, I’ll ask for some time off and you can have a lovely rest, how’s that?’

Rosie hurried upstairs without replying. She felt a sense of despair creeping over her. A rest was not what she wanted; she wanted a home of her own, to have her husband to herself and the chance to cradle her own child in her arms. She loved her mother and the boys but she loved Watt more and already the family had come between them. Why else was Watt acting as though she was nothing more to him than a paid servant?

In her room, she lit several candles, not wanting to be alone in the darkness. She lay across the bed, her eyes closed against the shimmering light. She had expected so much from her marriage but somehow everything was going wrong. Unless they were in bed and he needed relief, Watt was indifferent to her and as for Mam, well, she simply treated Rosie like a servant and a convenient nursemaid for the boys.

The tears flowed down her cheeks and she held the pillow against her for comfort. She knew she was feeling sorry for herself but she had the right. She would be old and tired soon enough, now she just wanted to live a bit. Was that too much to ask?

She heard footsteps on the stairs and then Watt was in the room, bending over her, touching her cheek with his fingers.

‘Are you sick, Rosie?’ He sat on the edge of the bed looking at her anxiously. She wanted him to take her in his arms, to hold her and kiss her and tell her she was the most beautiful girl in the world and that he loved her.

‘I know we all seem to be taking advantage of you,’ he said. ‘But you must be patient, Pearl is sick, really sick, she shouldn’t even be working. I’m worried about her.’

Rosie sat up. ‘That’s just it, you worry about everyone except me!’ She brushed her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I’m getting old before my time, do you realize that?’ Once she had begun she could not stop.

‘I’m in by the fire most nights sewing the boys’ shirts and mending ripped trews while you go out and Mam either goes over to Willie’s house or takes to her bed.’

She swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t get married to live by myself, Watt. I want a proper marriage. You take your pleasure not thinking of mine and then your back is turned on me without even a kiss goodnight. What sort of marriage is that?’

He seemed dazed. ‘I’m sorry, Rosie. Give it time, be patient.’ His face was turned from her. ‘I don’t suppose I’m really over Maura yet and when Pearl fell sick, well, it brought the nightmare of Maura’s death flooding back. I’m sorry, Rosie.’

‘Oh yes, everyone’s sorry!’ She shook her head. ‘But I’m more sorry than any of you.’ She turned her face away from him, was he too concerned about himself to realize how unhappy his words had made her?

‘Well, what do you want to do then?’ he said. ‘Do you want to go out as we planned or shall I stay in with you this evening?’ He touched her hand briefly. ‘I know this isn’t an ideal arrangement, us living with Pearl and you taking care of things in the house but that’s why we decided to get married, wasn’t it?’

She felt a pain as though he had stabbed her with a knife. ‘Was it?’ she said quietly. ‘So our marriage was an act of charity thought up by you to help Mam out. Well what about me? I want to be loved and cared for. Don’t you love me even a little bit, Watt?’

‘Of course I love you, Rosie,’ he said but his words lacked conviction. ‘You needed me, all of you. I thought I was doing the right thing.’

‘The right thing! Is that all our marriage means to you?’ Fresh tears welled in her eyes. Watt tried to take her in his arms but she pushed him away.

‘Leave me be!’ she gasped. ‘I hate you, Watt Bevan! How dare you marry me out of pity?’

‘But I didn’t marry you out of pity!’ She waited, hoping he would say he married her because he loved her. He remained silent. Suddenly calm, Rosie sat up and looked him full in the face. ‘If you didn’t marry me out of pity then why did you marry me?’ She glared at him through her tears. ‘Did you want everyone to think what a good man you were taking on Rosie and her entire family? You saw yourself as our saviour, is that it?’

‘Don’t be melodramatic, Rosie!’ He was growing angry. ‘I’m faithful to you, aren’t I? When I go out, it’s only to the public bar with the other men. I work hard and I bring home good wages for you, isn’t that enough?’