Later, Morwen reflected that at least a few of her anxieties had been groundless. Matt had brought his family home, and taken them to see Bess straight away, and she learned that Primmy had spent a long private time with her grandmother.
Whatever had been said about Hal was between the two of them, but Bess’s common-sense approach to life and death had left Primmy clearer-eyed than Morwen had expected. And, of course, much of her resilience was due to her happiness with Cresswell. One look at them both, and Morwen had no doubts where her daughter’s future lay.
The excitement of the wanderers’ return was added to when they heard of the party that was planned. As she’d told Ran, she knew her brother, and that he would welcome this family get-together. It had proved just as she had said. And her brother knew her, too.
Before Matt left for London to meet his family, he’d held her hands in his and as he looked searchingly into her face, the colour of his eyes was a match for hers.
‘I hope all will soon be well with you, our Morwen,’ he said.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she began, but she should have known it was no use trying to hide things from Matt. They had always been the closest in the family when they were children. He was always her dearest, dreamy-eyed brother, and she had been so amazed and so proud of him when he’d turned out to be a businessman after all.
‘I mean that you and Ran are at loggerheads, and trying to hide it from the rest of us, and it don’t suit you, dar,’ he said simply.
‘We’ll work things out between us,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you worrying about us, Matt. It’s nothing that can’t be resolved.’
‘Do it soon, then. I don’t want to leave for home until I know you’re happy.’
America was home to him now, of course… after all these years, it still gave her a little shock to hear him refer to it that way. And America would soon be Primmy’s home too. Her girl would no longer think of Cornwall as home…
As she looked at her across the room at New World on the night when the farewell party was in full swing, and saw how Primmy positively sparkled, she thought of it again, and felt a sharp pang. She would miss her so much. It didn’t matter a jot that Primmy had lived these last years in Truro. She was still near, still a part of them all, and soon she would be gone.
‘Mammie,’ she felt a touch on her shoulder, and turned with a bright smile as she saw Charlotte standing there, looking so pretty in her flounced blue frock. She still had Charlotte. And Emma. There were other daughters, other sons. But somehow – and folk could say what they liked about the rights and wrongs of it – the first was always special. The first daughter and the first son, Primmy, and Walter. She thought of them as this – even though she knew they weren’t really her own.
Her heart gave an uncomfortable leap, as she looked through the long, open French windows and saw Walter and Justin arguing and gesticulating furiously in the garden. But even as she watched the little cameo scene, she saw Ran go to them. She couldn’t hear the words above the noise, but it was clearly enough to pacify them for the moment, and she was mightily relieved when the two young men separated. But she also knew it wasn’t over yet…
‘Mammie, I’ve been trying to tell you something!’ came Charlotte’s impatient young voice again.
‘I’m sorry, lamb, my mind was wandering, like it always does on these occasions. It’s advancing age, or so they tell me,’ she said, with an attempt at a joke.
Charlotte hugged her arm as they both strolled out into the garden. The night was so warm, the indigo sky dotted with a million stars, the air as fragrant with blossom as only a Cornish summer night could be.
‘You’ll never be old, Mammie. You’ll always be young and you look so beautiful tonight. That colour is wonderful for you,’ Charlotte said, so unexpectedly that it brought tears to Morwen’s eyes.
Justin was the one who was easy with the compliments, with his lawyer’s ease with words, and it didn’t often come from her daughter. But the glorious russet-coloured silk gown had brought compliments from many sources tonight, except from the one she would most like to hear it from.
‘Anyway,’ she went on, before Morwen could think how to answer her. ‘I wanted to ask you something very private, and before I do, I want you to promise me you won’t say anything to anybody about it.’
They were strolling in the shrubbery now, where the scent of roses was overpowering, and Morwen suddenly felt faint. She knew she shouldn’t anticipate the worst, but right now, Charlotte sounded more anxious than happy. If she was about to hear something bad, she wasn’t sure she could bear it. If her girl had got herself into trouble, it would disgrace the family name…
‘Of course I promise, darling,’ she said quickly, because Charlotte was waiting intently for her answer, and there was no other that she could give.
‘Well, it’s to do with Vincent and me,’ Charlotte said.
Morwen stared stonily ahead, trying to keep her heartbeats steady, and failing miserably.
‘I know you’ve been seeing a lot of one another, but it was with his family’s approval, wasn’t it?’ Morwen questioned.
‘Oh yes.’ Charlotte dismissed such a formality with the impatience of youth. Even if it hadn’t been with the Pollards’ approval, the two of them would have found a way to be together, Morwen thought, with a glimmer of humour, and a lot of love.
‘Hadn’t you better tell me what it is that’s bothering you, then?’ she asked, as they reached a garden seat and sat down together. ‘I’ll help you, Charlotte. You know that – whatever it is.’
She couldn’t be more outspoken than that at this stage, but to her surprise Charlotte burst out laughing.
‘Oh Mammie, I can see what you’re thinking! Oh, it’s nothing like that! Vincent and I – well, he respects me, truly he does, but he loves me as well. And I love him.’ Her voice sobered at once. ‘And – well, this is what I wanted to ask you about. We want to be married, to be together always, and I know Daddy will say we’re too young. Vincent will do the proper thing and ask his permission, but I’m so afraid that with Daddy like he is just now, he’ll refuse and get in a temper and spoil everything.’
She ran out of breath, and in the moonlight and the lights streaming out from the house, Morwen could see the glint of tears in her eyes. She hugged the girl’s hands tightly, her heart going out to her. And feeling an enormous anger at Ran, that Charlotte could think his recent moods far-reaching enough to threaten her happiness.
‘Your father wants the best for you, same as I do, and I know that you and Vincent will be happy. But you are very young, my darling, and this is not the best of times—’
‘But why should we be made to pay for his black drinking moods?’ Charlotte said passionately, and Morwen was sick at heart to hear her speak so.
Charlotte didn’t even live at home any more, but the news of Ran Wainwright’s drinking bouts had spread far and wide. Even to the extent of an outrageous cartoon appearing in The Informer. No names were mentioned in the caption, but the sketchy sky-tips in the background of the cartoon, and the furious, angry face of a man slating his inferiors with a bottle in each hand, made it more than obvious. The thought that the whole district would have seen it, had mortified Morwen for days.
‘Will you do something for me, Charlotte?’ she said evenly now. The girl nodded dubiously.
‘Wait until after the autumn clay despatches. It’s not that far away now, and you know how everyone gets tetchy around that time. And with all the business deals still to be settled, it’s not a good time to suggest anything else. But after that I promise you I’ll smooth the path for you and Vincent, darling.’
Charlotte threw her arms around her neck and hugged her. And Morwen’s own eyes were moist, knowing only too well how desperately time apart dragged for two people in love, when all you wanted was to be together.
‘Let’s go inside. And not a word of what we’ve been saying,’ she went on. ‘It will be our secret, Charlotte.’
And as long as Vincent Pollard respected her… the two of them walked into the house with linked arms, and Charlotte could never have guessed the way Morwen was remembering another secret that had happened so long ago. Remembering how desperately she and Ran had made love in that little London hotel while her husband, Ben, lay in hospital. It had been wrong… and yet nothing had seemed more right, because their love for each other had been all-consuming.
She looked at Ran in the drawing room now, fiercely discussing something with her brothers. If only Ran hadn’t become so aggressive. If only they could all be happy…
‘Freddie’s taking me home now, Morwen,’ she heard her mother’s voice say. ‘I’ve a need to be in my own bed, and I’ve made my goodbyes, so we’ll be leaving. Jack and Annie and young Sam will be coming with us too.’
‘But it’s still early, Mammie!’
‘Not for an old un, my lamb,’ Bess said with a smile. And when Morwen could see how this arrangement suited them all, she bade them all good-night.
The party went on until the early hours. Justin had left for Truro long ago, clearly wanting to get away from this place, where he had to see how Walter Tremayne and his wife and child were so adulated. And the Wainwright children had been put reluctantly to bed, while the rest of them lingered as long as they felt able. Albie and Rose Slater had gone, and Albie was clearly elated to see how everyone had adored Rose from the outset.
Before they left, Morwen needed to have a quiet word with Freddie.
‘Are you sure Bradley’s all right?’ she said, anxious and guilty, because she’d hardly had time to worry about him lately. ‘You would tell me if all wasn’t well, wouldn’t you, Freddie? And I do miss him—’
‘Oh ah! Like a thorn in your side!’ he said, with a teasing laugh. ‘Don’t you fret none about that young man, our Morwen. He’s well and happy, and I’ll persuade un to write to you to tell you so.’
‘That’ll be the day,’ she said, smiling back. ‘But I’ll write to him, Freddie, and that’s a promise. And Ran and me are so grateful to you and Venetia for everything.’
‘That’s enough now, or you’ll have us both slobbering, and I’m too old for such nonsense,’ he said briskly, as her eyes began to fill. He gave her a quick hug, and went to collect his mother.
Matt and his family were the last to leave. He put his arms around his sister quite uninhibitedly and without any hurry to release her. He was her dearest brother, and had always been so. He spoke softly in her ear, so that only she could hear.
‘I don’t always find the words to say what I feel, my honey girl, but if I don’t say it now, I probably never will. I just want you to know that no matter how far apart we are, you’ll always be in my heart.’
‘And you’ll be in mine,’ she whispered.
It was a sweet, private, poignant moment, and when she let him go and saw him turn to his family, she felt as possessive of him as if he had been a lover. The feeling passed just as quickly, and thankfully so. She loved him so much, and always would, but he was her brother and nothing more. And he belonged to Louisa.
Finally, she and Ran were alone, and she felt an awkwardness she couldn’t explain at first. And then she knew the reason for it. They had had many family parties over the years, and the evening had always ended with the two of them dissecting the success of it all, talking about how the rest of them fared, and amicably or forcefully putting the family problems to rights.
Tonight, none of that happened. Morwen was too emotional over the thought of Matt leaving for America next week, and she couldn’t confide in Ran over what Charlotte had told her. As for Ran… the need to talk seemed to be overtaken by the need to drink. He must have consumed plenty all evening, she thought in some alarm, but he still had the capacity to take more and remain standing.
‘It’s time for bed,’ he slurred, speaking very slowly and measuring every word.
‘I’m sure you can find your own way upstairs,’ she said coolly.
She rose from the sofa and made to swish past him, but he caught at her hand. His palm felt sweaty, and she felt a sliver of fear, as an instant flash of memory reminded her of how it had been with Ben. He too had been drinking heavily, his skin sweaty and ill at ease in the days before the heart attack. She brushed aside the feeling. Ben had been a fit man in his youth, but had never been as full of vigour as Ran, and it was ridiculous to make such a comparison.
‘But I want you to come with me,’ Ran said now, his voice soft and full of meaning.
She felt a little shock. He had stayed in the guest bedroom ever since they had hurled insults at one another. He hadn’t wanted to be in her bed then, and she hadn’t expected it now. From the look and the smell of him, all he needed was to fall into bed and sleep the clock round.
‘Ran, you’ve had too much to drink. What you need now is sleep—’
‘I need my wife,’ he shouted, his mood instantly changing with the ease of the very drunk. ‘It’s been too long since I’ve felt your charms, my honey, and I want to feel them now.’
He pulled her to him so fiercely that she gasped for breath. He stunk of spirits, and his eyes were wild. But there was a primitive hunger about him that excited her despite her revulsion. She felt his hands on her breasts, and the way his tongue forced itself into her mouth.
Her revulsion won, and she wrestled with him silently, hating this.
‘No, Ran. Not here. Not like this!’ she gasped. Because she knew it wouldn’t be love that made him take her, but lust, and a need to possess her.
‘You’re right,’ he mumbled, his hands going to her hair now, unpinning it roughly, so that the pins flew everywhere, and his fingers raked through the tumbling blue-black hair. ‘We’ll go upstairs, before the need for you drives me mad.’
She went with him dumbly, half-supporting his stumbling form now, and knowing that if she didn’t, he would carry out his lovemaking right here in the drawing room. Once, such lovemaking had been erotic and beautiful. But she couldn’t bear it now. It wouldn’t even be lovemaking. It would be rape. And such an outrage would be a humiliating end to a wonderful, emotional evening.
Upstairs, he flung the door of their bedroom shut behind him, and began tearing off his clothes. She undressed as quickly as she could, her fingers shaking so much she could hardly unfasten the buttons on her gown. Her beautiful, vibrant, russet-coloured silk gown, bought specially for this evening, that Ran had hardly noticed.
She was inside the bedcovers while he was still fumbling irritably with his clothes, his haste and foul temper doing nothing to help him. But at last he was beside her, quickly covering her body with his own, and pressing kisses on her mouth.
‘I need to know you belong to me, Morwen,’ he said against her lips, in an odd voice that she couldn’t fathom for the moment. She struggled to speak, although she was pinned down by the unrelenting weight of him.
‘You know I do! I always have—’
‘Not always,’ he slurred, his hands roaming urgently over her body as if he had never seen or felt it before. ‘I wasn’t the first, was I?’
‘Ran, for goodness’ sake,’ she said, with a mixture of nervousness and alarm. ‘You can hardly condemn me for having been married before I even knew you existed!’
‘Every man has the right to expect a pure bride on his wedding night—’
‘Well, that could hardly have troubled you, since you didn’t even wait for our wedding night,’ she said, bitterly defensive.
Appalled, she listened to their own accusations, and she could have wept at the way they were destroying the sweetness of that long ago night in London, when they had first made such tremulous, forbidden love. When she had belonged in marriage to Ben Killigrew, and not to him.
‘I don’t recall that you objected too strongly,’ he said, insultingly.
‘That’s not fair,’ she said, choked. ‘You know how I battled with my conscience, Ran.’
It was unbelievable how he could continue his sensual arousal of her body, while his words degraded her. It was as if he had become two different people. The Ran she adored, and the one she hated.
‘But not for long. And you seem to have forgotten the rudiments of lovemaking, honey.’
He grasped her hand and thrust it downwards to where his half-hearted erection was attempting to thrust into her, and not succeeding. It was the fault of the drink, of course. He should have known all along that he wouldn’t be able to perform tonight, but he was starting to curse savagely now, as her own efforts to arouse him produced nothing. She ached with embarrassment for him, knowing how the rare occasions when he’d failed had angered and embittered him, but he must surely see that it was no good…
‘Ran, why don’t we leave it until another time?’ she said gently, trying not to sound upset or let down. In truth, she wasn’t at all, for it wasn’t the right time for loving, but she didn’t dare let him see that either.
‘What other time? A time when this useless piece of flesh decides to perk up for a change?’ he said in frustrated anger. Sorrow for him fluttered in her heart then.
‘Don’t say such daft things, dar. It hasn’t happened often before, and I doubt that it will happen again, once you give up the drinking,’ she said, very quietly.
He gave a bitter laugh close to her ear. ‘Not happened often before? That’s all you know, my sweet, loving wife! And you should know there are more ways to emasculate a man than by drowning himself in a bottle.’
He rolled away from her, breathing heavily and raggedly. She wished the drink would render him insensible, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect on him now, and he was belligerent and restless.
‘It will pass, I’m sure,’ she murmured, not knowing what else to say, and bewildered by his words. ‘We’re both very tired, Ran. Let’s try to sleep—’
‘Sleep? There’s time enough for bloody sleep when I’m six feet under. That’s the only time I’ll find any real peace, like your Killigrew.’
Morwen’s heart jolted. ‘I don’t know why you keep bringing Ben’s name into it. My marriage to him was a long time ago, and you and I have had a good life together—’
‘Had!’ He picked up on the past tense at once, and she sighed, knowing she would have to choose her words with eggshell care now.
‘We still have a good life, if only you’d relax and not dwell on the past so much. It’s not healthy, Ran—’
‘Maybe I’m not healthy—’
She sat up in bed, staring down at him. He lay like a statue, his ruggedly good-looking face carved and angular in the light from the window. Visions of Ben trying to deal with the prospect of being ill flashed in front of her eyes, and her Mammie’s words seemed oddly prophetic at that moment.
‘What do you mean? You’re not ill, are you? Don’t frighten me like that, please!’
He didn’t even turn to look at her. If it had been any normal time she might have expected him to gather her in his arms and reassure her. But nothing seemed normal between them any more, and his voice was brittle with sarcasm.
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, honey, but I’m not ill, nor proposing to drop dead like your number one husband. I’ve no intention of making room for number three.’
He turned his back on her then, and the shocked tears ran down Morwen’s cheeks. How could he be so insensitive, she raged? And it was a long while later before her crying was done, and by then he lay sleeping noisily beside her.
But she had made her resolve. If there was nothing else between them now, they had the children and they had the clayworks. There was nothing for it now, but to make the best of things. She was strong, and she would prove it.
That strength was put to the test when Morwen came face to face with Harriet Pendragon in Justin’s office at the appointed time for the document signing. The other woman was as flamboyant as ever, in a peacock-green silk gown and matching hat and parasol. Beside her, Morwen refused to feel dowdy, but no one could avoid seeing the contrast between the two women. Morwen wore dark blue, and although her clothes were expensive and elegant, she immediately felt inadequate. Even so, she held her head high, and didn’t bother to acknowledge the woman.
The office was crowded that afternoon. Justin held court, and the three Killigrew partners sat on one side of the room with their witnesses, while Harriet, the disapproving David Meadows, and her two witnesses, sat on the other.
‘Let’s get this over quickly, Justin,’ Ran said, as he began to read out the lengthy document. ‘We’re all agreed on the sale price of Prosper Barrows, and the terms of it, so let’s just get on with it.’
Justin looked at his stepfather coldly. ‘I’m sorry, but you know this has to be done legally, and I’m bound to read it out to all concerned, and to give the parties the choice of signing or making another decision.’
‘There’s not going to be any other decision,’ Ran snapped. ‘It’s already been made.’
‘But we should hear Mr Killigrew out, my dear Sir,’ Harriet Pendragon said prettily, obviously enjoying this wrangle between kinsmen.
‘We certainly should,’ David Meadows put in at once. ‘I’ve already advised Mrs Pendragon not to act too hastily—’
‘I think the lady can make up her own mind,’ Walter said. ‘She made no bones about her decision when she came to see us at the clayworks.’
‘Against my wishes and better judgement,’ the man snapped, his face red with annoyance.
By now, the witnesses were beginning to enjoy it too. What had seemed to be a foregone conclusion to their mundane task that afternoon, now promised to be a bit of verbal rough and tumble.
‘Don’t you have anything to add, Mrs Wainwright?’ Harriet said insultingly. ‘You’re a sort of partner, I do believe. Or is your role merely to keep the children out of the way and let the men deal with men’s business?’
Morwen felt Walter’s hand cover hers. Walter’s, not Ran’s. She removed her hand from his at once, and stared icily at the other woman.
‘And do you believe you’re the first woman clay boss in the county, Madam?’ she asked.
Harriet’s eyes narrowed for a moment, and then she shrugged. ‘Oh, I believe there have been one or two attempts at it by those who should stick to their domestic chores.’
‘Not only those,’ Morwen went on, ignoring Justin’s attempt to bring the room to order.
But Morwen was incensed now, and had no intention of letting this woman get the better of her. ‘And if you think I’m merely a sleeping partner in Killigrew Clay, then you underestimate me, and you underestimate my family. I didn’t marry the first man who asked me for the power it gave me. I married a man I loved, and who loved me for what I was then – a clayworker’s daughter, who loved and understood the clay—’
‘Morwen, will you stop this!’ Ran thundered at her now, wrenching her arm as she leapt to her feet. She shook him off, while the others in the room sat open-mouthed and transfixed at the extraordinary sight of two well-dressed ladies glowering at one another. By now Harriet was on her feet too, her face scarlet with rage.
‘You bitch!’ she screamed. ‘If you think I’m buying your husband’s poxy little china stone works now, you can just think again. You can rot in hell, the lot of you!’
She swept out of the room like a ship in full sail, with her financial advisor and all the witnesses scurrying after her, while Morwen almost staggered at the speed of it all. Ran whipped round on her, shaking her like a rag doll.
‘Do you know what you’ve just done?’ he bellowed. ‘You’ve buggered up the best deal I could have got on Prosper Barrows. You’re a bloody menace in business, and in future you can keep your hands out of my affairs.’
She wrenched away from him.
‘Your affairs? Whatever concerns Killigrew Clay concerns me, and don’t you ever forget it,’ she screamed. ‘It was mine before you ever came on the scene—’
‘Mother, for God’s sake—’ Walter sprang between the two of them as they looked fit to do bloody murder. Justin ran round the front of his desk at the same time, and each brother pulled one of the warring partners away from the other.
‘She didn’t mean it, Ran,’ Justin said quickly. ‘She didn’t know what she was saying.’
‘And if she did, it was a spur of the moment reaction, because she’s so passionate about Killigrew Clay and will protect it to the death, as we all will.’
Justin nodded. ‘He’s right, Ran. Now you sit tight while I get some brandy to calm you both down,’ he said quickly. ‘And you keep him away from her, Walter.’
‘I think I’d better, before they kill each other,’ Walter said grimly, seeing the murderous looks that passed between them.
Even as she knew that this was undoubtedly the end of her marriage, Morwen found the hysterical thought running through her mind, that now that she’d said the unforgivable to Ran, her sons seemed to be both on the same side at last.