The Emerald Valley (80 page)

She drew a steadying breath, taking a step into the room – and as she did so the qualms fell away. This was her room now, it had been so for six years. The bed might be the same piece of furniture, but the coverlet and the sheets were different – champagne silk to which she had treated herself when a good contract came through, instead of the crisp white cotton of her marriage bed. The dressing-table and washstand might occupy the same positions, but now they looked like the furniture of a woman's room, the dressing-table top covered with pots and potions; small decorative china ornaments and lace-edged mats remitted the starkly functional appearance of the pink-rimmed jug and basin. Even the curtains were different, pretty sprigged flounces instead of the plain cerise which had hung at the windows when Llew was alive.

This was her room – it had seen her triumphs and her tears. And if Llew's ghost lurked somewhere here, surely he would understand what she was doing and give her his blessing?

‘Amy, if you don't want to …' Ralph said.

‘It's all right.' She turned to look at him, her eyes holding his.

‘Are you sure?'

‘Yes.'

They were in each other's arms again, kissing with tender restraint – the calm before the storm. Then Ralph began to undress and another qualm caught her, sobering her and filling her with shyness.

Her scars – the evidence of her scalding as a child – were still there, as they always would be, across her lower back and buttocks. Ralph knew nothing of them and she forgot them herself most of the time, for they were as much a part of her as the shape of her chin or the colour of her hair. But now, as he began to loosen the buttons of her blouse, she held taut, terrified he might be revolted by the mutilation.

‘Ralph – wait …'

‘What now?' His tone was rough; he had wanted her for too long.

‘My back – I was scalded when I was a child – it's not very nice …'

His breath came out low and husky and with gentle firmness he moved his hands to the waistband of her trousers.

‘Show me.'

‘Ralph …'

‘Show me!'

He undid the button and slid his hands inside her slacks; although she froze inwardly, she was unable to resist.

Then she felt his fingers moving over her back, tracing the imperfections, and shyness made her cringe. But when she looked up at him fearfully, there was nothing but love in his eyes.

‘Poor Amy,' he said softly. ‘It must have been a terrible scalding.'

‘It was, but it doesn't matter now. All that matters is that I want to be beautiful for you and I'm not …'

‘Oh Amy, that's nonsense! You
are
beautiful!'

Her slacks slipped to the ground; as she moved her feet slightly to step out of them, she caught sight of the reflection in the dressing-table mirror and held her breath to see the two bodies reflected there. They were total opposites – the one hard, lean and muscular, the other softly rounded; curves and hollows, both bathed in golden light. And his hands still rested gently on the scars.

A mixture of emotions welled up in her again – gratitude, humility, love – and guilt that she should have done him the injustice of thinking even for a moment that he might be repelled by something so essentially superficial. But still she could not help wishing that the whole of her body was smooth and white for him; still could not overcome her shyness and her reluctance for him to see her imperfection.

‘Please don't look, Ralph,' she said. ‘I don't want you to look.'

His face softened. He had thought he could exorcise her embarrassment with frankness. Now he realised that even more important was the illusion she wanted to preserve.

He kissed her, biting at her lips with tender passion, then slid his hand away from her scars and down the backs of her thighs to her knees, lifting her with effortless ease and carrying her to the bed. As her skin encountered the silk sheets she clung to him, arms winding tightly around his neck while he bent over her, covering her with kisses. The warm tide of desire rose once more to drown the shyness and the doubts and she pulled him down to her, hungry for the feel of his body next to hers.

Oh, the electric excitement when bare flesh touches bare flesh, when every tiny movement of every nerve and muscle awakens an answering response! She lay in a state of aroused ecstasy, wanting him closer, within her even, yet at the same time wishing to prolong the glorious anticipation of those singing moments.

His lips followed the line of her throat and shoulder, sucked softly at the smooth creamy skin where the swell of her breasts began, moved down the valley between and traced moist, warm circles on the curve of her belly. Then as she thrust up her hips towards his face, he knew she was ready.

With a movement that was urgent yet at the same time almost lazily graceful, he moved onto her. She gasped softly beneath his weight, wanting nothing now but to accommodate his seeking body and be one with him.

And Ralph, drowning in her, knew that the wait had been worthwhile and that now, in the end, mastering her had been the only way to win her. But oh, the softness beneath that hard-boiled and assured front! Oh, the capacity for loving which had been denied so long! As their bodies merged and joined, as they moved in unison towards the crescendo that seemed to bring the stars and moon down to earth, his love was as great as his desire; together it was a combination more powerful than anything he had known before. And instinctively he knew it was the same for Amy.

Her head moved against the pillow, soft moans escaped her. But happiness and passion were synonymous now, uniting to obliterate tiredness and fear, driving out loneliness and doubt, filling her with the confidence that there was nothing in the world which could not be overcome by the strength of their union.

At the last he cried her name and her own spent passion was suffused with warmth. She curled her legs around his, unwilling to let his body leave hers, until gradually they dropped from the pinnacle to the plateau below and from the plateau into the smooth green valley of contentment.

Lying langorous, her head in the crook of his shoulder, she thought again of Huw and of the question Ralph had asked her. She had wanted to answer before and been unable to speak. Now, softened by the intimacy of shared love, she knew she must remove this last barrier.

‘Ralph, you asked me why I took in Huw.'

‘It doesn't matter, my love. I'm sure you had your reasons and if they are good enough for you, they are good enough for me.'

‘If we're to be married, I think you should know the truth.'

She felt him stiffen slightly. ‘All right. If you feel you want to tell me. But only if you want to.'

‘I do. I told you once before that it was because he came from the same valley as Llew. That's true – but there's more to it than that.' She paused, then said simply, ‘He's Llew's son.'

She felt the tension go out of Ralph's body and knew what he had feared she was about to say – that Huw was her son, born out of wedlock, cared for by God-knows-who until the opportunity presented itself for her to have him with her … after Llew's death perhaps?

‘I didn't know of his existence until after Llew died,' she said and went on to tell him the whole story of how Huw's mother had come to see her and then died in the lodging house.

‘I couldn't let him go into an institution,' she ended. ‘Not Llew's son. So I took him in.'

Ralph raised himself on one elbow, looking down at her. ‘Does Huw know?'

‘Oh, no! No, of course not. He believes he's the son of a miner who died in a roof fall underground. It isn't that I didn't want to tell him the truth – I thought it would be better for him not to have his world turned upside down. He had been through enough. And yes,' she added in a small voice, ‘I suppose there
was
an element of just not wanting to tell him about Llew. I suppose I wasn't very anxious for anybody to know that my husband …' she broke off, then put in hastily, ‘Though it did happen before I knew him, of course.'

‘Of course.' Ralph's eyes smiled down into hers. ‘You're a remarkable woman, did you know that, Amy? Even more remarkable than I thought. Don't worry about Huw, we'll sort him out.'

Her lips curved in a small, contented smile. How wonderful to hear him say ‘we'. It was more comforting than she would have believed possible to feel she did not have to struggle on alone any more, that Ralph with all his cool strength would be there beside her.

Why had it taken them so long to overcome their differences and surrender to the inevitable, she wondered. But in one way she was glad it had happened that way. The intervening years had taught her so much, about life and about herself. She had taken on the business and built it up alone – her achievement owed nothing to anyone but herself and of course Llew who had started it. Had she taken Ralph's offer of marriage seriously when first he had spoken, he would have been the one to drag Roberts Haulage out of the slough – or at least, she would always have felt it was his success. Now she was prosperous. Now the whole world could see she was marrying Ralph because she wanted to and for no other reason. As for him …

Ralph would never have married her with any other motive in mind, suddenly she was sure of that. Had he wanted control of her businesses, he would have found some other way of getting it. A marriage of convenience would never be his style. And the way he had made love to her just now was further proof, if she needed it.

From the bedroom along the landing a child's cough brought her sharply out of her dream world and back to reality. Barbara – that recurrent winter chest was troubling her again. Reluctantly Amy moved.

‘I'll have to go to her.'

Ralph's hand circled her neck, pulling her back for one last kiss.

‘Don't worry about it. There will be plenty more times,' he said softly.

And Amy, replete with satisfied love, knew that he was speaking the truth.

Within a few days Hillsbridge was buzzing with the news that Amy Roberts was to marry Ralph Porter. The wanton business lady and the confirmed bachelor! A merger of power with power.

Before they could hear it from anyone else, Amy told the children. Babs and Maureen were thrilled and excited, their main concern being whether they would be allowed to be bridesmaids. Yes, Amy assured them, they most certainly would be, and their faces glowed like small pink suns as they contemplated it.

Huw, freshly home from hospital with his leg in plaster, was less sure. He glowered a little and sulked, but Amy explained to him with firmness and love that she had to be free to make her own decisions about her own life.

‘At the moment I'm lucky, Huw – I have you and Babs and Maureen,' she told him. ‘But one day you will all be gone. You will have your own lives to lead – exciting things to do and places to see. But I should be left here all alone.'

‘We wouldn't leave you alone,' Huw said stoutly and Amy felt a glow of satisfaction at the sign – rare enough – that he had accepted the love she had given him.

‘You say that now, but when you're a bit older you will see it differently,' she assured him. ‘Of course you must feel free to live your own life – that's the way things should be. You don't want to feel you must worry about a middle-aged lady like me!'

‘You're not middle-aged You're young!'

She smiled again. ‘Maybe now. But give me time!'

Charlotte was the next obstacle and as Amy had expected, she was less than ecstatic about the match.

‘Oh Amy, are you sure it's the right thing?' she asked when Amy broke the news to her. ‘He's – well, he's so different from you. And never having been married, he's bound to be set in his ways.'

‘No more than I am,' Amy said stubbornly. ‘Yes, Mam, I quite expect the fur and feathers will fly sometimes. But then, it wouldn't be like me if if didn't, would it?'

Charlotte snorted and said nothing. It was true that Amy was the most volatile of her children – sometimes she wondered where the fire had come from when the others were so placid, never realising it was her own spark which was rekindled in her youngest daughter.

‘Well, they bain't going to be seeing that much of one another, be 'em?' James commented. ‘Unless our Amy's going to give up everything and go off to Gloucester, of course.'

‘No, I'm certainly not going to do that!' Amy said hotly, aware that one of the bones of contention niggling at her mother was the fact that Ralph had had to leave for Gloucester the day after his proposal and so been unable to be formally introduced to Charlotte and James as their future son-in-law. ‘We'll work something out, don't worry.'

‘Oh, I bain't worrying,' James said mildly. ‘Just wondering, that's all.'

‘And when is the wedding to be?' Charlotte asked. ‘We shall want a bit of notice, you know.'

‘We haven't set a date yet, but I can't imagine it will be long. There's no point in waiting, is there? And you need not worry yourself about arranging anything. We'll do it all.'

‘Oh, I see. I suppose an
ordinary
wedding wouldn't be good enough for Mr Porter.'

‘Mam, don't be like that,' Amy pleaded. ‘It certainly won't be like a first-time-round wedding, of course. We're not two youngsters. I won't be wearing white this time and he won't be having a “knees-up” in the Miners'Welfare Hall. I should imagine it will be a quiet wedding, just relations and close friends, with a reception at a hotel – the George, perhaps. But really we haven't had time to discuss it yet.'

Charlotte sniffed, still looking put out, and Amy put an arm around her shoulders.

‘Do try to be happy for me, please, Mam. I love Ralph and he loves me. Don't you think it's time I settled down again?'