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Authors: Iris Gower

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BOOK: The Shoemaker's Daughter
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She leaned forward and smiled. ‘And here are you, respectably married to Edward and with a fine son, you are a very lucky woman, Hari.’
Suddenly Hari knew she had to talk to Emily, ask her advice, share with someone the guilt that plagued her.
‘Close the door, Emily,’ she said softly, ‘I must talk to you.’
Surprised though she was, Emily did as she was bid and returned to sit beside Hari. ‘What’s wrong? You look so worried, is it Edward or the baby?’
Hari shook her head. ‘It’s me, everything is all my fault, the whole sorry mess.’ She took a deep breath. ‘David is Craig’s son, not Edward’s, and I can’t bring myself to tell my husband the truth, it would hurt him so much.’
If Emily was shocked, there was no sign of it. She placed her hand over Hari’s and bit her lip thoughtfully.
‘Does Craig know about this?’ she said softly.
‘Oh, yes, he knows, he wants me to go away with him, but how can I hurt Edward when he’s been so good to me?’
‘What do
you
really want?’ Emily asked gently and Hari rubbed her eyes.
‘I would like to be with Craig for ever, to have him bring up the baby with me but then I would be taking my happiness at Edward’s expense.’ She paused and struggled against the weak tears that rose to her eyes.
‘I didn’t know about the baby when I married Edward,’ she said. ‘If only I’d known I’d have been honest with Edward from the start.’
Emily shrugged. ‘I can’t advise you, Hari, I feel so inadequate.’ She shrugged. ‘The values I used to hold dear seem a little irrelevant now.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Who would have thought that I would marry a man from what I used to think of as the “lower orders”?’
Emily rose to her feet. ‘I have to go but I’ll be there if ever you need me, Hari, there will always be room for you in my house.’
When Emily had left, Hari sat with the baby in her arms and stared out into the small garden where the leaves of the apple trees were falling to the ground leaving the branches bare.
Edward appeared in the doorway, he was smiling fondly at the sight of her holding the baby. ‘You look like a little madonna there,’ he said softly.
‘I’m not a saint,’ Hari said shortly, ‘I’m a flesh and blood woman, Edward, and don’t put me on a pedestal, please.’
He came and sat beside her and took her hands in his. ‘Can I help it if I worship you?’ he said reasonably.
In that moment Hari almost hated him, Edward was binding her to him with words and tangling her in his emotions so that she Would never be free.
Hari decided in the next few days that she must start living her life as she’d done before the baby was born. If she got out a little more, she might find a sense of perspective and the strength to face her life with Edward.
Edward was more than a little put out when Hari told him she was taking the baby to the theatre in Goat Street.
‘Why are you going over there?’ he asked. ‘I don’t think a dusty smoky theatre is a very good atmosphere for the baby to be in.’
‘I’ll be back stage, Edward.’ Hari said impatiently, ‘In any case, Meg is in town and I promised her she would be godmother to David.’
Edward’s colour rose. ‘I don’t really like the sound of that,’ he said. ‘I thought you would have chosen someone more suitable, Emily Grenfell perhaps with Craig as godfather.’
‘Emily is no longer a Grenfell,’ Hari pointed out, ‘she’s Mrs Miller now. And I’m having Charles as godfather,
Sir
Charles, that should please the snobbish streak in you, Edward.’
She realized her words were harsh but she wanted to strike out and hurt him. ‘In any case, I won’t be dictated to about my son’s future, get that clear here and now, Edward.’
‘David is
my
son too, Hari, or have you forgotten?’ Edward said gently. Hari’s first instinct was to lash out at Edward, to tell him he was
not
David’s father, he had nothing to do with the baby but she bit her lip and looked away.
‘In this, I have made up my mind,’ she said firmly, and to her relief, Edward said no more on the subject.
Her greeting from Charles was as effusive as ever. ‘Hari, my dear little lady, how wonderful to see you looking so well and this is your new offspring, let me have a look.’
To Hari’s surprise, Charles took the baby and held him with easy confidence as though he had been used to babies all his life. ‘He is a wonderfully handsome child, cut out for a life in the theatre I dare say.’ He smiled. ‘Come and sit down, let me make you a nice cup of tea while we wait for Meg to return.’
‘Return?’ Hari asked, ‘Is she gone out then?’ She hid her disappointment and followed Charles from the foyer of the theatre along the corridors towards the shabby dressing-rooms.
‘She will be back shortly,’ he said, ‘she has gone to the shops to buy some new fripperies.’ He turned and smiled. ‘And I imagine there will be some little surprise for the new baby.’
Hari smiled. ‘Is it my imagination or are you looking just a little bit smug? Come on, Charles, what’s going on.’
‘All in good time, dear lady,’ Charles said enigmatically, ‘all in good time, but I will say this, you couldn’t have visited us on a more auspicious occasion.’
The dressing-room was empty but on the table stood a bottle cooling in an ice bucket.
‘I’d love to know what you are up to.’ Hari said smiling, ‘Won’t you even give me the tiniest clue, Charles?’
‘You must contain yourself in patience, my dear, Angharad,’ Charles said. ‘Now sit down and take this infant from me, he weighs a ton!’
The sudden sound of high heels clip clopping along the corridor alerted both of them. Hari looked up smiling as Meg came into the dressing-room, her arms full of packages. When she saw Hari, Meg unceremoniously dumped the parcels on the table and kissed Hari’s cheeks soundly before peering down at the baby.
‘What a sweet, dear little thing,’ she enthused, but when Hari asked her did she want to hold David she shied away in horror.
‘Oh dear me, no, I’d drop the poor mite!’ she said hastily. ‘Why do you think I took up the stage? Precisely because I was not the kind to want a brood of children around my skirts.’
Charles put his arm around Meg and took her hand, holding it out so that Hari could see the huge ruby sparkling against a setting of diamonds.
‘Meg has agreed to be my wife,’ he said for once dispensing with his flowery mode of speech. ‘We are going to be married at Christmas time, here in Swansea and you of course, Hari, will be the first one invited to the ceremony.’
He moved towards the table. ‘And now,’ he boomed with a return to his usual flamboyant style, ‘you, my dear friend, will enjoy with us a glass of this heady brew to celebrate our betrothal.’
Hari smiled in delight. ‘
Duw
, there’s happy I am for both of you, though why you haven’t done it before I don’t know.’
Meg pushed back her fluffy hair and smiled coquettishly. ‘I think it took the appearance of a rival to push Charlie into making his move,’ she said. She hugged Charles’s arm. ‘Not that
anyone
could truly rival you, my darling.’
She took the glass from Charles and smiled up into his eyes. ‘You know, Hari’s right, we should have done this a long time ago.’
‘Anticipation is half the delight of any experience,’ Charles said smiling, ‘and I look forward with great anticipation to making you my wife.’
‘I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to being Lady Briant,’ Meg said thoughtfully, ‘what
will
my dear father say?’
She turned to Hari, her butterfly mind already on other matters. ‘You will make me some very special shoes, won’t you? I want something different, design me a pair of shoes that no-one has seen the like of before.’
‘I’ll start working on them the minute I get home,’ Hari promised, her thoughts already whirling, her mind toying with ideas for pearl bedecked slippers in white satin and finest calf.
It was with a mixed feeling that Hari left the theatre and made her way back home, it seemed as though everyone was happily in love except for herself.
Emily had her John whom she adored and now Meg and Charlie were shining with happiness. Even Will had taken to creeping out at nights, an expectant look on his face. Was she destined never to be with the man she truly loved?
The baby was fast asleep in her arms and, as she looked down at his tiny, peaceful face, she knew that in spite of everything, she was the most fortunate woman in the whole world.
25
Working on the slippers for Meg’s wedding to Charles gave Hari a renewed interest in the business and while she had been recovering from the birth of her son, orders had continued to come in from all parts of the country and now there was a backlog of work needing her attention.
Lewis and Ben had done their best to accommodate the customers and Will had been more than adequate on the more delicate side of the shoemaking but there was still a great demand for Hari Morris’s individual touch.
‘The first thing to do, is to employ some more cobblers,’ Hari said to Will. ‘The business is expanding and unless we honour our agreements the customers will go elsewhere.’
‘Aye, you’re right,’ Will said sighing heavily. ‘I’ve been trying to tell you that for weeks but you wouldn’t listen, Hari.’
She put her hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry, Will, I’ve been a bit preoccupied with the baby, I realize that, but Edward’s employed a young nurse to take care of David, just for a few weeks so I’ll be able to spend more time seeing to things around here.’
‘Look at this, Hari,’ Lewis loomed over her, big and reassuring, ‘I haven’t done a pattern quite like this before.’
Hari took the small boot and examined it in silence for a moment. ‘It’s for a child with a bad leg, is it?’ she asked seeing the way the heel was built up.
‘Aye, one of Cleg the Coal’s little boys had an accident, fell under a cart and now the poor little boy has one leg shorter than the other. I’ve tried them on him and they don’t seem to fit.’
Hari felt suddenly ashamed, she was neglecting all her old friends, she’d not even known about the accident, so selfishly engrossed in her own life she’d become.
‘
Duw
, there’s sorry I am to hear that.’ She bit her lip and turned the boot over.
‘I don’t think it’s balanced right, Lewis,’ she said at last, ‘see the sole here isn’t level with the heel and the instep shaped like this won’t give enough support.’
She looked down at the slipper she was shaping and then, with an air of determination, took off her leather apron.
‘I’ll go to see Cleg, measure the boy’s foot myself.’ She smiled at Lewis, resting her hand on his arm. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been leaving it all to you men instead of doing my bit but all that is going to change in future.’ And her future was here, in the shoe business, that and being a good wife and mother must be her prime consideration.
When Hari arrived at the small cottage, Cleg was seated at the table eating his dinner of bread and cheese. ‘
Shw mae
, Hari, there’s a stranger you are these days.’
‘Morning Cleg, I’ve been a bit busy having a baby, mind,’ she said laughing as she seated herself at the table.
Beatie came in from the kitchen, her face flushed, her sleeves rolled up above her plump elbows. ‘Oh, it’s you, Hari Morgan, slumming it today, are you?’
‘Now Beatie don’t take on like that,’ Cleg said reasonably, ‘as Hari rightly says, she’s been laid up with the baby and all, you know what it’s like looking after a child.’
‘Are you getting a dig in at me, Cleg Jones?’ Beatie’s face grew redder, ‘It wasn’t me that let our boy run out into the roadway, mind.’
Cleg rose swiftly from the table and put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. ‘Sit down,
cariad
, you’re overdoing it with all that washing.’
Hari bit her lip, how different was the atmosphere in Cleg’s house to the usual one of happy-go-lucky laughter.
‘How is your son?’ she asked Beatie and the woman looked at her with dull eyes.
‘Our Billy’s all right considering a cart rolled over him.’ Her voice was hard.
‘Still upset she is,’ Cleg explained, ‘though it all happened a good few months ago now.’
Hari was guiltily aware that she should have visited the family sooner, she had been so selfishly concerned with her own needs she was forgetting those of other people.
‘I’ve come to measure Billy’s feet,’ Hari said forcing a note of cheerfulness into her voice. ‘The boots I’ll make will set him up fine, you’ll see.’
‘How do you know?’ Beatie sounded belligerent. ‘I don’t see how boots can help a little boy to walk properly.’
‘I’ve got a good friend,’ Hari said, ‘a man who walked with a very bad limp all his life. Now, with specially designed boots, he walks like everyone else.’
Beatie relented. ‘All right, Cleg, fetch Billy from his bed, let Hari see him.’
She turned to Hari. ‘Want a cup of tea, do you?’ It was a gesture of conciliation and Hari knew it.
‘Yes, please,’ she said quickly, ‘I’m gasping.’ It was the right thing to say and Beatie almost smiled as she pushed the kettle on the hob.
‘How’s your baby then?’ she said grudgingly and Hari thought over her words carefully before she replied, it wouldn’t do to extol the virtues of her son, not with Beatie so distressed over Billy’s accident.
‘Well enough,’ she said cautiously, ‘though he was born early which worried me a bit.’
‘Don’t do them no harm to come early,’ Beatie said swirling the water round and round in the brown china teapot without really seeing it. ‘Worse if they go overdue, they grow too big then and it’s harder giving birth.’
Cleg returned to the room carrying the little boy in his arms. ‘Here’s our Billy,’ he said and the pride in his voice brought a constriction to Hari’s throat.
The child was pale and thin and when Cleg put him down on to the floor, Billy leaned badly to one side.
BOOK: The Shoemaker's Daughter
12.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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