Authors: Iris Gower
‘Well, it makes sense to me now, I should have realized that when Bethan Hopkins threatened me, she meant every word she said. She is a very powerful woman and I underestimated her.’
‘I must leave at once,’ Catherine said quickly. ‘Perhaps if she thinks you have dismissed me Mrs Hopkins will leave your business alone.’
‘No!’ Hari’s tone was firm, controlled. ‘No, I will not have anyone dictate to me how I should run my own affairs. This is nothing short of blackmail and I will not submit to it.’
‘But, Mrs Grenfell, it would be better if I went.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Hari Grenfell shook her head. ‘I don’t think it is as simple as that. Bethan Hopkins has me in her sights, whatever I do now, she is determined to bring me down. Well, I have no intention of allowing it.’
She smiled and placed her hand on Catherine’s arm. ‘Don’t worry, I mean to ship the old stock of leather goods to Bristol. Clarks have planned a big shoe fair in Somerset, they have invited shoemakers from all over the country to bring stock. At least it’s a chance to recoup some of the losses. Go back to work, Catherine, and let me worry about the business.’
Reluctantly, Catherine returned to the millinery room. She did not see the pieces of velvet, the floor strewn with discarded feathers, the blocks that stood like disembodied heads upon the shelves, she was thinking about Bethan Hopkins, wondering at the woman’s capacity to hate.
‘What’s wrong, then, Cath? Come on, out with it, you can tell Doreen anything, you know that.’
Catherine sank into a chair and idly picked at a piece of straw that had come away from the crown of one of the hats. ‘I know who is doing this to Mrs Grenfell and it’s all my fault.’
‘What are you on about, how can this be your fault?’
‘It’s Bethan Hopkins, she hates me, she’ll stop at nothing to hurt me. Anyone who helps me gets into trouble, can’t you see it?’
‘Oh come on, love, it sounds a bit daft doesn’t it?’ Doreen had plenty of common sense but very little imagination.
‘Mrs Hopkins is behind the Llewellyn Company, she used the name to ruin Mrs Grenfell.’ She rubbed her eyes tiredly. ‘She took my lands away from me, she had Liam arrested for theft. Then, to cap it all, Liam’s farm was poisoned, the land ruined. What will she do next?’
‘Well, it do sound a funny business put like that.’ Doreen chewed her lip. ‘But don’t worry, now that you and Boyo Hopkins don’t see each other any more Mrs Hopkins will try to put it out of her mind, forget it happened, make her marriage work. I don’t want to rub it in, Cath, but if Mrs Hopkins
is
having a kid she got more important things to think about now, hasn’t she?’
Catherine felt a pain that began low in her stomach and rose to her throat as if to choke her. For a moment, she could not speak. It made her sick to think of Boyo going to his wife’s bed.
‘Look, love,’ Doreen spoke softly, ‘this is all beyond you and me; if this Mrs Hopkins is out to get at Hari Grenfell then it’s up to them to sort it out between them. The old witch will have met her match in Mrs Grenfell, I’m telling you.’
‘Perhaps so.’ Catherine picked up a hat in dark velvet, the material shimmered as she turned it in the light and she knew it would need very little decoration. ‘I’d better do some work, I suppose. As you say, if I try to interfere, I might only make things worse.’
Over the next few days, Catherine tried to clear her mind. To forget about Bethan Hopkins, even to forget about Boyo. If he had gone back to his wife, then Catherine would have no place in his life. Then Hari Grenfell called her to her office and her fears and suspicions surfaced again.
She was not the only one waiting to see Mrs Grenfell, two of the younger girls were there too, standing edgily outside the door. ‘We’re getting the boot.’ One of the girls looked glumly towards Catherine. ‘She don’t want to let us go but she has to, there’s no work for us, it’s as plain as the nose on my face.’
Hari looked pinched and drawn when the three girls entered the office. She fiddled with a pen for a moment and then took a deep breath. ‘I have bad news, I’m sorry but I will have to let you three go. You came into the firm after the others and you are the three who will most likely find work elsewhere. I have made up your wages and all I can promise is that if … when things improve, I’ll take you back, if you still want to come and work for me.’ She did not look at Catherine as the girls filed out of the office.
As she made her way back to the millinery room, Catherine knew that in spite of what she’d said to Doreen about not interfering, she must face Bethan Hopkins, ask her to stop punishing everyone else for what Catherine and Boyo had done. Her heart contracted for a moment in pain, how could she bear to see Boyo living with his wife, a happy couple about to have a child? She swallowed her tears, she was alone, unloved and it was her own fault. Well, she would just have to stop feeling sorry for herself and get on with her life. But first she must eat humble pie, beg Bethan Hopkins to forgive her. It would be difficult but somehow she must find the strength to go through with it.
Boyo sat near his wife’s bedside, a feeling of unease tingling along his spine, making his hair stand on end. Something was very wrong with Bethan, she was either very sick or she was, as Cara the maid insisted, possessed.
Possessed, what a foolish idea, she was ill, she was overwrought, she needed to rest, that was all; and yet he failed to convince himself. He had felt a presence in the house that was almost tangible. It was a coldness, a sensation that someone else inhabited the place and that he was unwelcome. It was not that Bethan did not want him, oh, she wanted him all right but it was almost as though the house did not want him.
Bethan opened her eyes, suddenly. Eerily they looked through him, then her gaze seemed to focus on his face. A light warmed her face, she smiled at him and held out her hand. He took it reluctantly. ‘I’m not very well, am I?’
‘You seem a little better this morning, Bethan.’ He spoke unconvincingly.
‘I didn’t sleep very well.’ She sat up and Boyo plumped up the pillows, adding an extra one to support her.
She had dark circles beneath her eyes and her skin was pale, with a sheen of sweat glazing her hollow cheeks. He felt pity tug at him; pity but no other emotion, not love, not even affection. Bethan had changed, she was no longer the woman he had married and he was entirely to blame for that change. And so her helplessness bound him to her, forced him to stay in the house that he hated. But today he felt he must get out of Ty Craig, if only for a little while or he would go mad.
‘I have to ride into Swansea today, business matters,’ he said evenly. Instead of the rebuke he thought would be forthcoming, Bethan smiled.
‘I know you have other things to do than look after a sick wife. Of course you must go, see to your business matters.’
He examined her face for traces of sarcasm but there were none. He felt guilt pour through him and was irritated, why did he allow Bethan to have this effect on him? She had money, resources, she could buy all the help she needed and yet he stayed. He was worried by her thinness, by the way she seemed diminished, shrunken from the fine, humorous woman she had been to a timid dormouse of a person. Had he done this to her with his coldness?
‘I’ll have some breakfast sent up to you.’ He forced himself to speak pleasantly. ‘You must try to eat a little, just to please me. I believe the doctor is going to call later today.’
She nodded. ‘All right. In the meantime, I’ll try to rest, my love, just to please you.’
He left the room with a sense of relief that was almost physical and hurried down into the gloomy hallway. There was no light in this house, no sunshine, the overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia he felt must be due to the overhanging rocks that perpetually dripped with water, whatever the weather.
A few minutes later, he left the house and moved round to the stables. At least, here, there was some relief from the towering hillside, there was an opening through the rock leading away from the house and Boyo could not wait to ride through it.
The breeze was chill but welcome as he guided the horse and trap cautiously through the outcrop of rocks over the rugged ground, he did not relish losing a wheel and being stuck for hours on the bleak hillside.
While he was in town, he would fetch some supplies, replenish the shelves in the pantry which were becoming bare. It was as though Bethan had no intention of providing sustenance for herself, almost as though she wanted to die, to join the other ghosts that inhabited the house. He repressed a shudder and glanced back over his shoulder, cursing himself for indulging in superstitious nonsense.
Once on the open road, he allowed the animal free rein and as he drew further from Ty Craig, his spirits lightened. Away from the oppressive atmosphere of the house, he was a different man. The situation was becoming intolerable, he could not stay at the house indefinitely nursing an unresponsive Bethan. Perhaps he should find a specialist doctor for her, or a priest who would exorcize the ghosts from the house. He smiled without humour, no self-respecting priest would set foot in Ty Craig.
The streets of Swansea were unusually busy for the middle of the day. He drew the animal to a halt outside Taylor’s Grocery Store, smelling the heady aroma of coffee grounds, knowing suddenly that he needed some breakfast.
He would leave the horse at the stables in Gower Place and take a walk around the town, stop at the Mackworth for something to eat and then later, much later, buy the provisions that Bethan needed.
The ostler unhitched the animal and began to rub the horse down with long easy strokes of his brush. Boyo left the stables and made his way out along the road, a sense of freedom as heady as wine in his head.
He caught a glimpse of a slender figure, red hair piled upwards in a coil and his heart jolted within him. For a moment he thought it was Catherine and then she turned and he could see by her profile that the woman was a stranger.
He no longer felt hungry, he no longer felt light-hearted, he was dragged down by longing, his loins ached for her; Catherine, the only woman he could ever love.
But she was lost to him. She would marry her cousin, move to Ireland, forget all about the nights of passion she had shared with him. He sank down onto the edge of a horse trough and stared around him as though, by his will, he could conjure Catherine out of thin air. The people who passed him were strangers, women there were aplenty but not the one woman he longed to see, not Catherine O’Conner.
Once Boyo had left the house, Bethan’s attitude changed. She sat up in bed and rang the bell non-stop until the maid bobbed into the room, her face white.
‘I want some fresh toast,’ she said, ‘and another pot of tea. No, don’t take the tray away, leave it where it is.’
Bethan stared with distaste at the toast with butter congealed upon it, at the cup full of cold tea; it would be there when Boyo returned, he would believe that she was still sick, could not eat and needed him with her. It was only by using moral blackmail that she could make him stay and the knowledge was like a bitter pill stuck in her throat.
After she had eaten, she dressed and moved to her study. There she examined pages of figures, studying them intently and then, satisfied at last, she smiled.
Hari Grenfell was losing her touch, the business was slipping away from her. The setting up of the so-called Llewellyn Company had been an inspiration and Hari Grenfell had fallen for the trick as Bethan had known she would.
The order Bethan had placed for a very large amount of stock had forced Mrs Grenfell into further expense, expense she could not afford. Now, with the Llewellyn Company abruptly cancelling the order and ceasing to trade, the Grenfells found themselves with machinery they could not pay for and a massive accumulation of stock that would gather dust on the shelves.
Bethan had not let the matter rest there. Posted on the roadway leading to the emporium were men who worked for Bethan. They discouraged would-be customers from visiting the Grenfell establishment. Not only that but Bethan had hired door-to-door salesmen who took goods direct from Clarks’ in Somerset to the householder. It was not a new idea, it had been done before, tallymen were to be seen all over the valleys but never had it been done with such determination. Bethan could and did pay over-the-odds wages to the men who worked for her, encouraging them to greater efforts by offering a huge bonus to the salesman with the largest order.
Bethan had fitted out the large vans with shelves full of samples. Lasts in many sizes were at the ready so that any type of shoe could be made on the spot should the customer not require bespoke boots.
That Bethan’s plan was working became evident when Mrs Grenfell began laying off her staff. Three of the salesladies had been dismissed and that O’Conner slut had been one of them. Bethan smiled, she had achieved exactly what she had wanted all along and Hari Grenfell had been too stupid to see it. Well, Mrs Grenfell was all but finished, at least in Swansea.
Bethan’s own fortune was growing, she had always had a way with business, a gift for making money and it did not fail her now. What had begun as an act of revenge was turning out to be very lucrative. And of course, she had help, Elizabeth Llewellyn was beside her at all times, advising, informing, encouraging.
Bethan no longer thought of Elizabeth as a ghost from the past, she was as real as Boyo and almost as dear. When Boyo urged Bethan to leave the house, to move to a house where the sun shone in and where the aspect was open and pleasant, he did not know that to move would be to leave behind her best friend, the best friend Bethan had ever had.
She rose, it was about time for their morning talk, she and Elizabeth would have a great deal to discuss. And then, before Boyo returned, Bethan would don her nightgown, rub some powder into her face to hide the healthy colour and take to her bed. One day, one day soon, she promised herself, Boyo would be joining her in that bed. Her face softened, once she had the child, a daughter it would be this time, Boyo would have to stay with her. She hugged the knowledge to her, Boyo did not know of her condition, she was keeping that little secret until the appropriate time. And when that moment came, her triumph would be complete.