The Twisted Sword (36 page)

Ellery and Vigus had dropped hints about it at the changing of the cores, though they hadn't dared to face him out. But Peter Hoskin was a more substantial character and when he made a sort of side reference to it he tackled him in the changing shed.

'Well, I dunno narthing 'bout en,' said Peter. "Tis only what I been telled. Beth Daniel fur one. And others. But it edn naught to do wi' me, Ben.'

'If it edn't naught to do wi' you,' said Ben, 'why don't ee keep yer big trap shut!'

'I don't see as you've any call to take on so,' said Peter testily. 'Why don't ee ask her? She'll soon tell ee nay if tedn truth.'

Katie was normally home on Tuesday afternoon, that being her afternoon off; though she had seen much less of her parents' shop since her disgrace. Jinny, her mother, being a good and respectable Wesleyan, had not taken kindly to a situation in which her daughter should now be preparing to bear a bastard child without making any attempt to bring the scoundrel to justice who was responsible for her condition. Ben went along and found Katie at home helping her mother to cut up the rhubarb for jam. Whitehead Scoble, their step-father, was now very deaf and was dominated by Jinny who, though of a naturally amiable disposition, had hardened and toughened with the years.

'Well,' said Katie defiantly, 'what if 'tis true? Tis my consarn, no one's else.'

'Lord save us!' said Ben between his teeth, 'ye cann't mean it, Katie. Ye cann't. Wed to the village idiot! For land's sake, don't that beat all!'

'I don't see you need to get in such a niff,' said Katie.

'He's not such a noodle as he belonged to be. Ye give a man a name and it d'hang round his neck like a dog collar all 'is life. Besides ...'

'Besides what?'

'I've the child to think on.'

"E'll thank ye, sure 'nough, 'e truly will - or she - to be give a father that don't know the time o' day or whether

'tis Christmas or Easter! If you wed a pattick like Music ye'll have to keep three 'stead of two--'

'He've got a cottage.'

'Oh, so you're wedden the cottage, are ee--'

'I never said that! I never said nothing o' the sort .. . Anyway, 'tis my life and I shall lead it as I think fit--'

'But 'tis not fitty. Wi' all the village a-sniggering to bust. They're whispering and sniggering at the mine already. Why, folk'll jeer at you not at him--'

'Oh, leave the maid alone,' said Jinny. 'She've dug her own pit - let her lie in it!'

'What's that?' said Whitehead. 'What's that you say?' He began to light his nose warmer from a spill thrust between the bars of the fire. A cloud of smoke from the shag drifted across the room.

'You mean t'say you don't mind?' Ben turned on his mother.

'Course I mind! But I mind the disgrace the more. If I had my way I'd have that Saul Grieves fetched back from wherever he be skulking and forced into church. What he did with his self after that would be his consarn. But this way he d'get off fine and free and leave Katie to bear the consequences!'

'I've told ee,' Katie said, near to tears but not giving way.

'I'd never marry Saul Grieves, not if he was to come on bended knee. Music's just a makeshift. But 'twill make the child legal and give him a name.'

'Well, don't expect me to acknowledge Music as me brother-in-law! You must be half saved yerself, Katie, to think on such a thing. What do Grandfather and Grandmother say? They'll spit. I reckon they'll spit.'

Jinny came across to him. 'Don't you go upsetting Granfer and Gran, else I'll give you something to think

'bout, Ben! They're old, and when the time d'come I'll go and tell 'em what I think best they should know. But until then, you keep your spleen to yourself!'

'They'll know about it soon enough,' said Ben. 'You'll find some kind friend'll be along any day, if mebbe they don't already know. Anyway, I'd not like to be there when you d'tell 'em!'

He left the room, and they heard the shop door slam as he went out.

'What was amiss with him?' asked Whitehead. 'He was in a rare taking. I suppose he don't like the idea of Katie wedding Music?'

II

Andrew Blarney returned in the Queen Charlotte after a stormy voyage which had taken twice as long as expected and in which they had been attacked by, and driven off, a big American privateer that had not yet apparently become aware of the Peace Treaty of Ghent. He accepted Stephen's gift of the cottage with uproarious pleasure, and they celebrated it at a little supper-party in the Carringtons'

cottage, Tamsin being there chaperoned by her brother George. Consent to the marriage by her parents had not yet been given, but everyone at the supper assumed it would only be a matter of time. Grown expansive on the Rhenish wine, Stephen went into more details of his privateering escapade than Clowance had heard before. In particular when the French soldier had fired point blank at him and the cap had failed to detonate. Stephen now treated it as a great joke, but it had been the luckiest escape from certain death. Clowance could not help but think of another and longer conflict, and wish that the rain had continued at Waterloo. It seemed that Andrew had enjoyed his trip in the Queen Charlotte. In spite of his joviality, Andrew was not the easiest of men to get on with, and so it was notable that he had found an accord with the grumpy Captain Buller. Something in Andrew's character had responded to the stern discipline of his captain, and something in the way he had responded had pleased and satisfied Buller. The success of the voyage radiated through Andrew's spirits, and though he drank plenty he did not become noticeably drunk. They made gay plans for a day next week when they would visit the new cottage together. On the Friday Stephen and Clowance rode out to St Erme, whose annual cattle and horse fair was the biggest in the county, and Stephen paid what Clowance thought an outrageous price for a handsome dark bay gelding, 'the property of an officer recently fallen at Waterloo'. The two men selling the horse told Stephen that they would get a far better price at Tattersall's but they were selling locally to avoid the cost of the travelling. Moses, as he was called, was a very big animal - seventeen hands - and was clearly accustomed to hunting. A six-year-old, they said, and Stephen could not take his eyes off it. As well as being good at persuading himself that what he wanted was right, he had a similar tendency to believe the persuasiveness of others; and the sale was soon completed. They rode through Truro and back to Falmouth in triumph, Clowance on Nero leading the hired horse. Even if he has paid too much for it, she thought, it's his money, won by his enterprise, why shouldn't he have the enjoyment? Just as he enjoyed giving me the necklace. Just as he has enjoyed giving the cottage to Andrew. (I hope he has as much money as he says. I hope - I do hope and pray he will know when to say stop.)

Ill

The courtship of Music and Katie did not follow a conventional pattern.

For one thing, they did not look at each other as affianced people should. Music gazed constantly at Katie, his pale puzzled eyes gleaming with happiness - he was in his seventh heaven only because there was not an eighth but he never let his gaze fall below her face. He became alert and experienced in interpreting the nuances of her expressions - which boded ill for him, which tolerance, which - very rarely - liking or approval. He never allowed his gaze to travel anywhere below her chin, for he knew without ever having been told that her corporeal presence lower than the neck was not for him. It was unthinkable territory.

For her part, although she quite frequently spoke to him, she always kept her eyes lowered, as if to reduce within herself the shame of such a match. To meet his adoring eyes would have been to establish a contact, an intimacy which could, of course, never be allowed to establish itself. She went to his cottage, walked around it, made comments, a few suggestions, which he eagerly agreed to. In the end she found he only had four cats. Tom, one of the scabby tabby toms, had been caught in a gin at the beginning of the year, so all that were left were Tabby, Ginger, Blackie and Whitey, which was certainly more than she wanted, but Music was so obviously devoted to them that she decided to tolerate them. In the harsh cat world of Grambler, wastage would no doubt take one or another off in due time, so long as she was absolutely firm about admitting newcomers. Music went about in a dream world, working every spare moment he could get away from Place House, which was little enough, putting new thatch on part of the roof, clearing out the smelly fishing-tackle, hanging the back door on new hasps so that it would shut properly, mending the broken windows, repairing the fire bars, cleaning out the jakes and laying stones to it across the dusty scrub of the yard. In his excitement he had to be careful not to walk on his toes again or let his voice break into its upper register.

One day when he was trying to repair the table leg his older brother John walked in. He had come over to see what was going on. They were neither of them men of many words, and after a few grunted monosyllables of greeting John spat on the floor and thrust his hands into the upper pockets of his breeches and watched Music trying to get the table to stand steady without rocking.

'When'll ye wed?' he asked presently.

'Dunno.'

'I've 'erd tell 'tis to be the 1st October.'

'Mebbe.'

'What Katie says goes, eh?'

'Mebbe.' Music stopped to scowl at his table. 'Ais, I reckon. What Katie says goes.'

'Know ye she's only marryin' ye on account that she's forced put?'

'I reckon.'

'It don't fret ye that ee be going to be fathur to Saul Grieves's child?'

"Tes Katie's child. That's for sure.'

'Aye, that's for sure. What do Art say?'

"Aven't asked 'im.'

'Nay, ye wouldn't. Well, I tell ee what ee d'say. He say you're all mops an' brooms where Katie's consarned. She cares for you no more than for a pail of muggets. 'Tis just convenience. That's what 'tis, Music. Just convenience.'

Music stretched up. 'Aye?'

'Aye. He also d'say, and 'tis the very truth of the matter, that we all three on us own part o' this yur cottage. So if you be gwan set up house wi' this woman and 'ave her child, 'tis no more'n right 'n proper that you d'pay a rent to we.'

'What?'

John Thomas repeated his words, aware that Music was not taking them in. Eventually Music said: 'You mun ast Katie.'

'Aye, I thought so much. Ast Katie. She'll run ee round like a cocket, I'll tell ee for certain, I sorrow for ee, Music. I sorrow for ee.'

'Ais?' Music smiled. 'Well I bain't sorrowing for meself, see?'

After a few weeks the whispering and the sniggering died down, and people began to accept the match. Music, though a big strong young man, was weak-willed and easily sat on and very sensitive to ridicule. Katie was a big strong young girl, not at all weak-willed, and, when she was among her own kind, a formidable presence. Folk didn't laugh in her face and she cared little for what was said behind her back. Also there was the distant Poldark connection. Her brother was underground captain of Wheal Grace and Wheal Leisure. Her mother had worked for the Poldarks for a long time, a long time ago, and so had her father. Her grandfather, Zacky Martin, who had been a semi invalid for years, had been Cap'n Poldark's righthand man through the early troublous years and still lived in Mellin, hard by Nampara. An uncle and an aunt, no older than she was, were employed at Nampara, in the house and on the farm. It counted for something in the village. It made the enormity of the match greater but it made criticism of it more subdued. A conversation concerning it took place that evening at Nampara where Demelza, for the first time since her return, had Dwight and Caroline to supper. For this evening only IsabellaRose had been asked if she would have supper upstairs.

'It is not that we have anything private to discuss that we don't wish you to hear,' Demelza said to her. 'It is just that we are four old friends, of an age; we have not met like this for so long. We would feel the same if Clowance were here or - or anyone else.'

Bella kissed her. 'One day I shall be grown up and then I shall have nothing more to do with you.'

They ate a piece of fresh salmon, fricasseed rabbits, a blackcurrant pie and syllabubs, with cherries after. At one time Demelza had been a little on edge even when entertaining such old friends; now perhaps her stay in Paris and later at Lansdowne House made things easier; one didn't worry about a servant's gaffe. Or perhaps it was that one no longer cared. The meal went easily and pleasantly; the room became a little corner of comfort in a black world. Mention of Zacky Martin brought it up. Ross said Zacky was scandalized and upset by his granddaughter's disgrace, and now by her crazy decision to marry the village idiot.

'He's by no means that,' Dwight said, sharply for him.

'In fact he never was. Slow-witted and amiable, certainly, and at one time he rather enjoyed being the butt of the village. It was a sort of fame. But in the last few years he's been trying to grow out of it.'

'Dwight has been very good to him,' said Caroline.

'Spent hours with him.'

'Half an hour a week at most,' said Dwight. 'But he came and asked what was wrong with him. I was surprised. Village idiots, as they are called, don't usually realize there is anything wrong with themselves; they think it is other people who are at fault. So I thought I would spend an hour or two testing his capacities. I found nothing wrong, physically. He has a good alto voice - but so have other normal people. When he was a child one of his brothers pushed him into the fire and he burnt his feet, chiefly his heels. He got into the habit of walking on his toes, but now he has got out of it. Mentally he's slow. But so are a number of his friends. Recently he has learned to count, and if he concentrates he can tell the time. He knows the months of the year now, and he's good with animals and clever with his hands. It may not be a lot, but I think he is sufficiently normal to have the right to live a normal life.'