Leaving Shades Page 17

  ‘Miss Oakley, we’re at the vicarage door, you’re home,’ Evie said loudly and soothingly, when they were inside the musty porch. ‘Miss Tresaile is also here to help. We’ll just knock on the door for Mr Oakley.’

  ‘He won’t be there,’ Muriel said faintly, emerging out of her daze, but her legs were sagging more and more after the long uphill struggle. ‘Papa doesn’t come inside until I call him in nowadays. The door won’t be locked. We can go straight in.’

  ‘I’ll open the door,’ Beth said, suppressing a shudder. On her last entry here, as a child, the brasswork had been gleaming and the tiled porch floor scrubbed. Now the porch seemed like a gloomy neglected cavern and the thought of stepping over the threshold into the old house was wholly uninviting. Glancing at Evie, Beth saw she too was apprehensive.

  The heavy door, hanging untrue, creaked and whined on its hinges as Beth pushed on it, and she was forced to let go of Miss Oakley so as to be able to push harder. As the door opened a history of fustiness and human staleness hit Beth full in the face. Her eyes stung and her nose felt contaminated with something rotten, like an insult. She failed to hold back the instinct to clear her throat and try to eject the damaging air. She heard Evie gasp in horror and then gasp again as if struggling for breath.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Instinctively feeling concern for her flesh and blood, Beth looked round Miss Oakley at Evie.

  Evie nodded, grateful for the genuine consideration. Her eyes were full of unease. Her pity for Miss Oakley grew. Surely no one would remain completely sane for long if they had to live in such overpowering gloom. It would suck away all a person’s hopes and desires and crush them until eventually they’d never rise again.

  The nervous company shuffled into the hall. Beth and Evie shared the feeling that it was like entering the middle of the night. For some reason the mirrors and paintings had been covered with swathes of dark cloth. Half-tables and chairs, cabinets and the umbrella stand were huge vague shapes in the dimness, suggesting echoes of misery hidden behind them and threatening to pounce out on the humans at any moment and drag them into some nightmare existence. The drapes at the windows were drawn across; moth-eaten and ragged, they looked like witches’ cloaks. Looming to the left of the huddle of women was the great wooden staircase. Its gargoyle-like newels seemed to stare at them.

  ‘She shouldn’t have to live here,’ Evie whispered, with exasperation and sympathy.

  ‘No, she shouldn’t,’ Beth agreed, with pity for her former teacher. She put her face near Miss Oakley’s ear. ‘Where would you like us to take you, Miss Oakley? The drawing room? Your bedroom?’

  ‘I – I need to wash and change my clothes,’ Muriel murmured, her feebleness taking on an edge of shame. ‘My dear papa would be most alarmed to see me like this.’

  ‘We’ll take you up to the bathroom,’ Beth said. ‘I’ve got a rough idea of the layout of the upstairs rooms.’

  ‘No, oh no, you mustn’t!’ Muriel was suddenly energized and insistent. Embarrassed horror at the suggestion screamed out of her every pore. It had brought her to a trembling lucidity, and she pulled away from her carers and put distance between herself and them. ‘I m-mean I couldn’t put you good ladies to any more trouble. You’ve been so kind, so charitable, and I am so grateful to you, but I can manage now, honestly I can. I just need to compose myself and He down in my room. I need to pray. The Lord raise me up over this.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure, Miss Oakley,’ Evie said, using the soothing tones she had employed since discovering the lady’s plight. She had the same sort of faith in the Lord, but she was worried that Miss Oakley would soon plunge again into bewilderment and terrifying delusions. ‘Can we do anything for you? Make some tea? Do some tidying up? We could prepare a meal for you.’

  ‘Oh, bless you, Miss Vage, but really I’ll be fine, and you and, um… oh, it’s you, Miss Tresaile… have your own affairs to attend to. Everything here is fine, really it is. Please don’t let me detain you both. Please go about your own business, and thank you for inconveniencing yourselves on my behalf. If you don’t mind I’d like to be alone now.’

  Beth and Evie knew their presence was now upsetting Miss Oakley, who was mortified with humiliation on every level. They offered her a quick polite goodbye and went back outside into the fresh air that was so welcome in their lungs. Behind them the front door of the vicarage was shut with a firm thud. Beth and Evie had no need to tell each other it was a huge relief to be out of the morbid old building.

  Silently, with their eyes on the derelict ground, they hurried out beyond the forsaken gates.

  ‘I feel so sorry for her,’ Beth said, taking another long reviving breath of clean air and adjusting her embroidered cloche.

  ‘Me too,’ Evie said, straightening her clothes which had become ravelled up in the recent journey.

  ‘Well, you did what you could for her, Ev—’ Beth was shy now. ‘Um, may I call you Evie?’

  ‘Of course,’ Evie found herself saying. ‘I tend to keep myself mainly to myself but I’m always happy to help anyone who needs it… Beth.’

  The half-sisters gazed at each other deeply, aware they did not share the slightest physical likeness, aware too of the subtle differences in their dress mode and hairstyles – Beth chic and Evie a little homely. But it did not matter. None of their differences mattered, at least not for now.

  ‘You did a lot for poor Miss Oakley. I’m sure she’ll bless you for your willing kindness.’ It was strange to Beth to have met Evie in such odd circumstances and to be feeling quite comfortable with her. She had the need to express praise to Evie. She had only just met her but she liked her greatly.

  Evie felt a little reticent now; there was the matter of her father not wanting her to ever meet Elizabeth Tresaile. But it was not at all daunting to meet Beth and it did not feel wrong to linger with her. Beth was not stuck up in the least, and Evie liked her and wanted her to know it. ‘You must want to show kindness to Miss Oakley too. You came here today to see her specially, didn’t you, not Mr Oakley?’

  ‘I was fortunate to have her as my first teacher. She was very kind to me.’ Beth was smiling broadly and she felt the same lightness in her heart she’d had when she’d bonded with Christina. ‘Evie, this is so strange to be here with you, but I feel comfortable about it, don’t you? I thought our first meeting would be strained, perhaps even a disaster. I was a little scared about it, in fact.’

  ‘I didn’t think I’d want to meet you and I was worried that you might turn up on my doorstep, and to be honest I wouldn’t have cared if you’d returned home without contacting me. It’s nice that you intended to meet me, and yes, I do feel comfortable with you, Beth. It’s strange for me to be feeling this way, I mean, I haven’t any family except for my dad, and my uncle, our uncle Ken Tresaile.’

  ‘I’m so glad you think that. So glad this is so easy for us both.’ Beth held back the desire to embrace Evie. It was too early for that, and it was not the sort of social intimacy that came naturally to the humbler class. She reached out her hand to Evie. Evie offered her hand. They kept their hands together for a long while, smiling and both still a little inhibited.

  They strolled off side by side along the sunny lane.

  ‘Perhaps we should get the one matter out of the way that links us together, Evie?’ Beth ventured, hoping it would not put a wedge between her and her sister. She liked it, revelled in it now, having a growing family. ‘Phil Tresaile, the man who should not have rejected either of us but did so through his rotten selfishness.’

  ‘He means nothing to me, never has,’ Evie said firmly, telling the truth, but finding it disturbing that he was somehow terrorizing Muriel Oakley’s mind from the grave. He had had a bad effect on many people. ‘Davey Vage is my father. I love him as my father. I’m sorry if your father hurt you a lot, Beth.’

  ‘He did, but it’s not important to me now. But I’ve learned that he was instrumental in my mother’s fall from grace, and I hate the fact.
She didn’t deserve any of the cruel treatment he handed out to her, Evie.’

  Evie waited for Beth to say more. When Beth kept silent Evie understood. The relationship and reconciliation between Beth and her mother was private to them both. ‘No one deserved to fall foul of Phil Tresaile. Let’s mention him no more. I’m glad your mother knew happiness with Francis Vyvyan. He was a very fine man.’

  ‘I’d like to have met him. Since I’ve arrived here it’s been a shock to discover I have a brother and a sister, and had a twin. It’s only been a short while but now it feels natural. It feels like I’ve never really been away from Portcowl. Strange, I know, but it’s true.’

  ‘I’m glad for you. It’s up to each of us to make the best of our lives.’ It was something Evie’s mother had often said, and Iris had made the best of life for Evie and herself as Davey’s wife and homemaker.

  ‘Well, what shall we do now?’ Beth said, happy that the awkward matters had been addressed and that thereby she and Evie seemed to have gained some closeness. ‘I also intend to call on Ken Tresaile today. It’s time I approached him. May I walk down to the cove with you, Evie?’

  Evie hesitated. If she were seen with Beth, her father would soon get to hear of it. ‘Well, the thing is, I’ll be honest, my dad was hoping we wouldn’t ever meet. Not that I’d mind,’ she added quickly as Beth’s face shaded with disappointment. ‘I’d welcome it, but it’s difficult. I hope you understand, Beth.’

  Beth was heartened at seeing her disappointment reflected in Evie’s expression. ‘I understand. Mr Vage is worried I’d intrude on his home and upset you in some way, Evie. I’ve only been back in my mother’s life for two weeks. I didn’t know you existed, Evie, until a few days ago. We re strangers, although it doesn’t feel that way any more. Mr Vage doesn’t know me at all. Hardly anyone in Portcowl does. I hope to change that, Evie. I’ll make a point of meeting the local people. Perhaps if I bump into your father some time and he gets to know and trust me…’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Evie echoed Beth, but without a lot of hope. ‘But my father is a very private man.’

  ‘We can wait and see and hope. We’ve plenty of time. I’ve no plans to return to Wiltshire for a very long time yet. Evie, what’s Ken Tresaile like? I understand he’s nothing like his brother, our father.’

  ‘He’s always been nice to me. I’m sure he’d be very interested to meet you, Beth.’

  ‘That’s good to hear.’ Beth halted reluctantly. ‘Well, you’d better go on ahead, Evie. Hopefully we’ll find a way of keeping in touch, perhaps through Miss Oakley. I shall try again to help her. I’ll wait here a while then dawdle on my way.’

  ‘All right then,’ Evie said, and Beth saw she had an engaging smile.

  Beth held the gaze of Evie’s pretty eyes. ‘It’s been wonderful to meet you, Evie. Take care of yourself. I’ll say goodbye – but just for now.’

  Evie returned Beth’s lingering look. She nodded to convey that she shared the same sentiments. ‘Bye then.’

  After a few long moments Evie left. She went a dozen steps then looked back. Beth had not moved. The sisters’ smiles to each other lasted a very long time.

  Eighteen

  The prow of Our Lily sliced cleanly through the dark waters as the six-man crew of Praeds set off for the run-in to the fishing port of Newlyn. The sea was calmer now but most of the night the surf had been heavy, making the boat lurch and roll drunkenly and the mizzen light wink dementedly. It had taken nearly five hours to haul the nets in over the roller with both motors in play. Their eyes smarting and reddened by wind and salt spray, for the men it had taken more hours of muscle-breaking work to shake and unravel the nets to send the quivering pilchards showering down into the fish berth. It was an age before the fishermen finished stowing all the gear away and headed for the warmth of the cabin, where they cast off their long yellow oilskins and leather sea boots.

  Lofty had announced philosophically, ‘We had a bad night of it, nets come up so light they didn’t reach nowhere near the bottom, catch won’t fill twelve maunds when we go alongside the market. But we’re all safe and sound, and that’s it.’

  The stuffy cabin had an almost tangible combined stink of sweat, tobacco smoke, pungent wet leather and oilskins and the crabbiest socks that had ever steamed on the planet. Lofty, Linford Junior and the youngest son Douglas, and Rob, were long accustomed to the rank smells. Nor did they notice the motion of the lugger, even during the periods when it pitched and tilted in high-running seas. ‘Wonder how our dear little maid is,’ Lofty voiced his daily concern.

  ‘You know she’s getting better, Dad,’ Linford answered patiently from the bunk where he was sitting, rolling a smoke. He was lulled now by the vibration given off by the propeller, as were the others. His two middle brothers, twins Barry and Andy, were in the wheelhouse. ‘Mark’s said so every time over the phone, ’cept for the first day and night.’

  ‘Lily’s as tough as the Wolf.’ Rob, already smoking, grinned at the memory of his tomboy niece running gleefully into the house one summer with a colony of snails crawling up her skinny bare arm. She’d put them there and exclaimed she liked the tickling. Horrified but unsurprised and giggling, Aunt Posy had disappointed her daughter by pulling off the snails, throwing them out the door, then lathering Lily’s arm with enough warm water and soap to clean every child in the cove for a week. Doting on her as much as her immediate family did, Rob had joined them in plying Lily with treats and promises of treats to replace the fun she’d had with the snails. Lily was precious because she was a surprise late baby, and she had become even more so after the family tragedy of losing Juliet. And Lily was treasured because despite all the attention lavished on her – and she knew exactly how to work on each member of her family – she was not at all a spoiled brat.

  Douglas guffawed. ‘She’ll be up and about shrieking as loud as a flock of gulls. No gale nor spring tide would get the better of our Lily.’

  ‘You worry too much, Dad,’ Linford said. ‘Mother’ll be taking good care of her.’

  ‘And she’ll have Judy and Alison fussing over her too,’ Rob declared.

  ‘Maybe, and that’s all very well,’ Lofty murmured, preparing to eat a hunk of yeast cake. ‘But I’ve told Mark to tell Mother not to let Lily out of her sight till we get home.’ Finally some of the tension left Lofty and the deeply etched lines on his hardy brow were a little less obvious. With white cake crumbs tumbling down his shirt, he spoke loud and hearty. ‘When we get home we’ll have a big family roast and later an even bigger tea party. Invite them boys, Joe and Richard, to join us. If not for them… well, I don’t want to think about that. As long as Lily and Mother are all right then I’m a happy man.’

  ‘What about that Miss Kitty?’ Linford made a sussing noise of male appreciation between his teeth. His eyes, edged like all fishermen’s with crow’s feet from staring endlessly against the elements, gleamed horny and in awe. ‘She’s a smashing piece of stuff’

  ‘You can say that again,’ Douglas remarked, with his usual guffaw. He passed a coarse glint on to his brother and cousin, but furtively, for his father came down hard on lewd behaviour. Lofty saw all unattached women as pure princesses who ought not to be tainted by premarital attentions. ‘You going to invite her, Dad? She was a brick to us that day.’

  ‘Why not?’ Lofty replied happily, washing down the cake with a mug of strong black sweet tea.

  Later, when Lofty slipped out to take over at the wheel so Barry and Andy could get a bite to eat and drink, Linford leaned towards Rob. ‘Are you planning to see the delicious Miss Kitty Copeland again?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ Rob shrugged his powerful shoulders. ‘I thought she’d be good for a shag but she’s obviously a virgin. That means emotions might be involved on her part and she’d want more than a good time from me. Can’t stand being chased after. Comes with accusations and the try-on of guilt and intimidation.’ The tight expression of extreme annoyance vanished from Rob’s face. Now he was q
uietly serious. ‘Got a wedding to plan soon now Judy’s engaged to Bernie Crewes—’

  ‘And it’s a good job for he that you approve of him,’ Linford cut in, with a knowing nod.

  ‘And Alison’s on the lookout. Will find myself in an empty house before too long,’ Rob said, as if he had not been interrupted. ‘So I think it’s time for me to cast out my net for a wife. I want a big family.’

  ‘Well, you’ll have plenty to choose from. Just about any woman would have you, though I don’t know why, you ugly swine,’ Linford jested, in envy.

  ‘Got anyone in mind?’

  ‘It would have to be someone who’d make a good fisherman’s wife. Not some flighty piece I couldn’t trust while working away. Someone like Judy and Alison and Auntie Posy.’ Rob ran possibilities through his mind. There was no lack of suitable candidates in Portcowl or the other local fishing villages. Suddenly it was obvious to him.

  Rob gazed levelly at his more easy-going cousins. ‘Evie Vage would make a good choice.’

  ‘Evie?’ Linford and Douglas exclaimed in unison.

  ‘What about Evie?’ the twins asked, squeezing into the cabin and leaving barely space for anyone to move. Andy spoke alone. ‘Father said, no need for anyone else to go out. He’s quite happy on his own. So what’s going on then?’

  The others shuffled up to give the twins a few inches of a bottom bunk. Linford thrust a crib box at them. Barry lifted the tin lid and cut off a large slice of yeast cake for his twin and himself.

  ‘Rob’s thinking of marrying Evie,’ Linford scoffed, staring at his confident cousin as if he thought Rob, for once, would be out of his depth.

  ‘What?’ Both of the twins had wolfed down a chunk of cake and both nearly choked on it. ‘That would be the biggest challenge of any man’s life.’

  ‘Yeah, exactly.’ Douglas confirmed his own amazement. ‘He’s got sea madness. Davey Vage would rip his head off before he allowed that to happen.’