Six
In the lane outside Merrivale a car was parked. Dorrie was concerned that the reporter, whom Belle had told her about, was back, perhaps with a photographer this time. The Templetons did not need the sort of complications caused by lurid columns in the newspapers which might lead to malicious gossip. Some locals had voiced their opinion that the Templetons did not deserve any help, that there were more deserving cases than them. ‘They wouldn’t have cared about the likes of us when they were in the money,’ a few had observed.
Delia Newton had declared haughtily to Dorrie, ‘The wife must have known what her husband was up to. She’s got what she deserves. And it might be a case of like father, like son; that boy probably shouldn’t be trusted. It’s just as well they keep themselves to themselves. We don’t want their sort in Nanviscoe, it’s a respectable place.’
‘Yes,’ Dorrie had retorted. ‘It’s full of respectable, charitable and un-judgmental people who wouldn’t dream of throwing the first stone.’
To that Delia had made what Greg called her ‘squashed muffin face’ and had continued serving Dorrie in frosty silence.
‘Hello, Finn,’ Dorrie called out cheerily as she entered the kitchen, ready to see off any persistent members of the press.
‘Finn isn’t here.’
She stood stock still. A man was lounging at the table, apparently thoroughly at home, turning a gold cigarette case and matching lighter over and over in his fingers. Finn wouldn’t have got on good terms with a reporter. He stood up out of respect to Dorrie’s entry and laid on an amiable smile, but Dorrie knew a charmer when she saw one. In his late thirties, slick in style, in a gleaming white shirt and dark tie, his sports jacket over the chair back, he exuded control and sophistication. ‘Mr Carthewy, I take it?’
‘You’ve guessed correctly,’ he replied in a careless but interested way, offering his big tidy hand across the table. A gold signet ring gleamed on his right ring finger. ‘And you must be the indispensable Mrs R. I’m very pleased to meet you. Finn and Fiona have told me how good you’ve been to them. Please accept my gratitude for all you’ve done here, and pass it on to your brother and the neighbours. It was unfortunate I had to attend to family business at Fiona’s most desperate time of need. I couldn’t convince her to accept more help from me. My secretary would have been willing to check regularly on her but Fiona wouldn’t hear of it, even though I’d assured her Miss Marks is the epitome of discretion.’
‘I’m pleased to meet you, Mr Carthewy. Finn’s out, you say?’
‘He’s not long left to go over to By The Way, to see about getting a few things for the baby. I convinced him to allow me to hold the fort until you arrive. The baby shouldn’t wake for a while. I offered to buy everything the little one needs but Finn insisted it was his place to provide for her. I admire him for that. I’m pleased he’s not a grasping crook like his father. Aidan Templeton-Barr is rotten right through, but Fiona still can’t see it or won’t hear a word against him. I’ve managed to talk Fiona into getting out of bed and she’s getting dressed. I’m here to persuade her to move to somewhere more comfortable. I’d almost forgotten I’d inherited this place, didn’t even know it existed until the lawyers tracked me down. In case you’re wondering why I’m so intent on helping Fiona I’ll be thoroughly honest, it’s quite simply because I’m in love with her. We were about to get engaged until Aidan stole her away from me. I’ve never stopped loving Fiona. I married a few years later but my wife divorced me, couldn’t stand being second best to Fiona, she said; I couldn’t blame her. I’d do anything for Fiona and her children. Haven’t got any children myself. Finn doesn’t quite trust me. I understand that, but I’m not trying to take over. I hope he’ll see that, and you too, Mrs Resterick.’
‘I think I do believe you, Mr Carthewy, that was a very impassioned speech. Fiona, Finn and the baby are very lucky to have you as their port in a storm.’ Dorrie was to learn that Guy had served in a tank regiment during the war and been mentioned in dispatches.
The pair heard slow shuffling sounds followed by puffing and blowing and then Fiona appeared stooped over in the doorway. Grey-faced, she was in her dressing gown and slippers but had made an attempt to brush her lank hair. Guy rushed to her and supported her with caring hands. ‘Let’s get you resting on the settee.’ Dorrie followed them into the front room.
‘I don’t want to go anywhere else, Guy,’ Fiona whined. ‘This cottage is basic but we’re surviving, and Finn’s hoping to get a job and he’s good with the baby. Mrs Resterick – thank you for coming again – Mrs Resterick assures us we’re not putting her out. We can manage here, Guy.’
‘I can see Finn’s not doing too badly with the help he’s receiving but you’re not managing at all, Fiona,’ Guy said gently, easing her to sit down. He took the crochet blanket and tucked it round her as if she were a child. She was certainly childlike and looked utterly lost. ‘This place will be horrendously draughty and cold in winter. The baby will suffer. You’ll never become well in this environment.’
‘I’ll never get well anywhere unless Aidan drops his silence with me. He hasn’t even answered my letters about Eloise’s birth.’ Fiona began to sob into the blanket. ‘I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. I wish he’d tell me. Guy, would you do something for me? I know it’s a great deal to ask, but would you visit Aidan in Dartmoor Prison, speak to him and try to get him to understand that I’m waiting for him? Please!’
Dorrie noticed how her desperate begging made Guy gulp and shudder, and she saw his reluctance to comply with her request. ‘I’ll get in touch with the authorities and ask for a visitor’s pass, Fiona, but on one condition, that you’ll allow me to turn this cottage into a decent place for you to live in. Do you agree?’
‘Well I . . . All right, agreed, but please, Guy, I couldn’t stand a lot of disruption.’
‘You won’t need to. While I was in Bude sorting out new nursing care for my senile grandmother, I thought a lot about what to do with Merrivale. If you’d agreed to move out I was going to sell it cheap in its present state. I was sure Farmer Newton would have been glad to acquire it. But if you wish to stay, I’ll get the place done up slowly, as your health and strength permits. I’ll have to employ painters so I might as well pay Finn to do it for me, so there would be practically no disruption for you, Fiona.’
Relief plain on her sallow face, Fiona sank back on the settee. Weary again, her eyelids were flickering for sleep but she listened gratefully.
Greg was smiling, into his stride now. ‘And you must have new curtains and stuff. I’m sure Mrs Resterick can advise on a local seamstress, eh, Mrs R?’
‘Indeed I can. Jean and Jenna Vercoe of By The Way, where Finn has gone, can run up anything on a sewing machine. All the work and workers that you might need can be found in Nanviscoe. My brother Greg is handy with a saw and a plane, he’s always glad to help anyone out, and an old boy Hector Evans would enjoy tackling the garden, with a bit of manual help. Verity, my niece, will also be glad to pitch in again. Denny Vercoe can turn his hand to plumbing and heavy work, tree felling too, if you want.’
‘That would be good, eh, Fiona? Make the place lighter and brighter and provide firewood. And I’m willing to put on a pair of overalls and act as labourer to the experts. All you have to do is rest and get well again.’
‘Don’t know how to thank you both,’ Fiona yawned, struggling to get up on her weak legs. Again Greg rushed to help her. ‘Do you mind if I go back to bed? You’ve both made me take heart. If Aidan knows he’s got somewhere nice to come home to where his family are waiting for him he’ll think differently and get in touch with me, won’t he? He must be so unhappy and scared. He’s probably been too ashamed over what he’s done.’
Dorrie took Fiona upstairs and came back down with Eloise, who was fretting with a windy tummy. She held the baby to her shoulder and gently patted her back. It was wonderful, the smell of a baby and the feel of a baby, and with Eloise wrapped in one of Veronica’s shawls it took Dorrie back to wonderful old memories.
Guy was pacing the room, tossing his head like a wild stallion, hands on his hips, obviously boiling with rage. ‘I can’t help it, Mrs Resterick, I could kill that bloody husband of Fiona’s. He’s never been scared of anything in his life and he’d certainly feel no shame. I’m sure he stashed some money away when he knew the game was up. He treated Fiona like dirt, put her down in public, and made lewd comparisons between her and his litany of tarts.’ He raked his hands through his hair and appealed to Dorrie, ‘How can I make her see the truth? That Aidan Templeton-Barr doesn’t care a jot about her, Finn or the baby? Finn realizes the truth.’
‘I’m afraid there’s nothing anyone can do about that until Fiona is ready to face the facts herself,’ Dorrie said softly.
Guy shook his head. ‘I know and I hate it. Some women are drawn to bad men. They’ll endure every sort of humiliation dealt out to them yet they still love their men. I suppose I can only carry on supporting Fiona for the moment and see what happens.’
‘That would be for the best, Mr Carthewy,’ Dorrie replied softly. She liked Guy heartily; he reminded her of Piers, kindness and forbearing to the last but not a pushover. She was sure Guy would protect Fiona with his life. ‘Actually, I’ve just had an idea which might ease Mrs Templeton along the way to a quicker recovery. Tell me what you think. If you agree with me, then after she’s had a rest and Finn has come back we’ll put it to them both.’