Sea Gem, page 16
This did make him feel guilty and he always swore he would make it up to Raoul one day. That day did not seem to appear though and now Duret had an additional heavy worry, which was enough to drive a man to distraction.
He wished he could discuss it with Mary or Grandmère but this he dared not do. They would castigate him; tear him to shreds and he quailed at the thought of their joint tempers. Duret knew he was not a very brave man. Nature had given him a girl’s timidity and, taken all around, he felt miserable. Only his evenings made up for his daytime worries.
Last evening, though, he had dared to murmur his fears and his mates had spoken up. Petticoat rule? They had chortled and made ribald comments at what they would do under such circumstances. It was all very well for them to shower him with well meaning advice, Duret told himself dismally. It would be he who had to make the move.
He spent a sleepless night, fretting at the problem and awoke with unusual determination. Something must be done and—now.
Mary had gone somewhere into town. Why, no one could or would tell him which also added fuel to the little fire burning in his heart. How dare she go off out and about without informing him? He was the man; not her. He would go down to Grandmère and have it out with her too.
As he strode down the lane towards Tante’s cottage a number of things happened at once. To start with, his limited courage began to evaporate rapidly the nearer he approached. Then Mary turned the corner driving the cob and the trap. At that identical moment, Grandmère appeared in her garden and waved to Mary and shouted something. While behind Mary one of those horrible modern motor cars appeared.
Duret halted, wondering whether to continue with his plan. As he did so the car drew to a stop behind the cob and trap and Mary actually turned and waved to the driver. Then she turned to Grandmère and gave a thumbs-up sign while the driver got out of his car and strode up to Mary.
Duret quickened his pace, his expression bleak. Now he knew who the driver was. Someone with whom he had never exchanged a word but about whom he knew plenty. How dared he come here and what on earth were Mary and Grandmère doing talking to him?
‘Mary!’ he bellowed as he strode up.
Mary jumped and was shocked to see her husband one yard away with a thundercloud on his face. Tante was startled too. She had been so engrossed in listening to Mary’s whispered message of affirmation. Victor le Page realised something was going on, but had sense enough not to ask questions.
‘Duret!’ Mary exclaimed. ‘I didn’t know you were not at work?’
‘Yes,’ Louise said swiftly. One raking look had seen something in Duret’s eyes she did not like. ‘Are you and Raoul finished for the day?’
Victor said nothing but felt himself tense up. He stood next to Mary, his instinct warning him of trouble to come.
Duret jumped forward, snatched Mary’s arm and hauled her away from le Page.
‘Duret! What do you think you are doing?’ Mary cried.
Duret turned a red face to Mary. ‘You are my wife,’ he growled, ‘and I’ll not have you associate with a bastard like him!’
Mary was shocked, then exploded with wrath. She flung Duret aside. ‘Don’t you ever manhandle me like that again and just remember I’m one of those too!’
Duret turned glowing eyes on her. ‘So—you rush to his defence,’ he jeered before turning back to face Victor.
All of Victor’s recent frustrations rose at once. He didn’t mind being denounced a bastard because facts were facts, but what had upset him was the possessive, almost cruel way, Noyen treated Mary.
‘Brave man,’ he snarled dangerously. ‘Why don’t you try and manhandle me?’
Duret jumped forward and lashed out with a right. It was so unexpected and out of character that Mary and Louise froze with shock. Victor swayed his head two inches to the left and the blow whistled past. He readjusted his balance and slammed a straight right. It hit Duret in the middle, driving the air from his lungs with a whoosh. Then a left and a right to his face followed, Duret brought up his forearms defensively but far too late. The blows landed and his senses reeled, blood spurted, then he was down and sprawling ungainly. Victor stood, feet slightly apart, one knuckle grazed and looked down contemptuously.
Duret lay still and Mary gasped. ‘He’s not—?’
‘No such luck,’ Victor growled. He hoped Noyen would get up again to continue but Duret had more sense.
Victor turned slowly to Tante. ‘So,’ he drawled, head held high. ‘Who is the better grandson now? Me—or that!’ he paused. ‘Who has been true to their bloodlines? Who is the man now?’ he demanded hotly. ‘Me or that rubbish?’ Then his voice softened. ‘So when am I coming into your cottage for tea and gauche? When do I experience the right of heritage? They tell me you fear nothing, old lady so show your mettle now, once and for all!’ he challenged.
Louise stood still then her eyes travelled slowly to Mary who, she could see, was wild with anger. Then she regarded Duret who sprawled inelegantly, his legs twitching a little as he rubbed his jaw and looked at Mary with bleary eyes. Finally, they settled on the handsome male who faced her with a cold, set face and hard, boring eyes. She examined him in great detail. He had matured and she held her breath with awe. It was incredible and even frightening to see another Danny Penford in the flesh.
Tante quivered, acutely conscious of her age, aware also of what a resounding series of mistakes she had made in the past. She had been wearing blinkers and she had allowed herself to be swayed by the stupid prejudices of her generation.
She had two grandsons and there was no doubt who was the better. She lowered her proud head as chagrin masked her features before slowly lifting her eyes to hold those facing her. Tentatively she extended one thin arm to him.
‘Take me in, grandson,’ she said gently.
Victor’s chest swelled with pride as he stepped forward and slipped the thin arm beneath his.
‘With pleasure, Grandmère but oh, what an interfering old woman you’ve been, now isn’t that so?’ he teased.
Mary watched them disappear and the front door shut firmly. She turned back to Duret who scowled up at her, trying to be hard and not succeeding. There was something implacable in his wife’s eyes.
‘What’s he to you?’ he managed to get out jealously, as he struggled to his feet. He felt light-headed and unsteady.
Mary glowered at him. This was the end. It had to be.
‘I asked you a question!’ Duret shouted at her. ‘I’ve heard about that bastard and the way he goes around in that rich car of his. He’s nothing and never will be!’
‘Careful,’ Mary warned. ‘He’s just thrashed you.’
‘Only because he caught me unawares!’
‘Oh, Duret! Don’t lie any more,’ Mary retorted wearily. Her anger had abated to be replaced with something difficult to describe. The thought of Duret touching her now was nauseating. Her facial expression showed this and Duret flinched.
‘You disgust me!’ she told him. ‘Our marriage is over. You will never touch me again. I’m moving into the sewing room and you come near me or bother me and, I swear by God, I’ll slip a knife between your ribs.’
‘I’m your husband!’ he cried in panic, afraid of her. She had never looked at him before like that. He lifted a hand against her but all she did was stand there, proud and unafraid.
‘Go on! Try it!’ Mary hissed.
Duret felt sharp terror then. He turned and staggered away while Mary watched with tight lips and cold rage. She went down the lane, feeling emotionally exhausted. Who would have thought at this day’s sunrise so much would have happened by sunset? Yet she felt a great relief in her heart. It was as if she had been moving slowly to this point for a long time. Now she had arrived and was glad.
She studied the sky. It would be a typical, balmy Guernsey evening. She glanced at her watch. The tide would be on the make. On a sudden impulse she started to run. Already the rocks were starting to cover and way ahead was Grandes Rocques. Taking deep breaths she increased her pace.
Her heart was feather light now. Her head was high, her spirit undaunted. She scrambled to stand on the Rocques and look out to sea. Wild, defiant and dominant.
TEN
Sam eyed the steps ahead and made a snap decision. He wanted a drink, he needed one badly before he returned to Cobo. Part of the news was good and indeed, after sending a telegram to the mistress, he had been light-hearted, pleased that his mission had been safely accomplished. He had returned to Guernsey but something stopped him from letting the family know. Instead, he had spent a few hours with old cronies and what he had learned made him sick to the bottom of his guts. He had been so disbelieving that he had moved on elsewhere, to another part of the island to ask a few more questions. When these had only confirmed the original source, great gloom had descended upon him. It was going to be terrible going back to the family with this news and two drinks, at the very least, would be necessary to fortify him the for the trial to come.
He did not often go into this particular pub because it was off his beaten track, rather more expensive than most with its tiny, private snug room and its usual clientele were not of his kind. At least, though it was a place where a man could sit and drink alone when he carried such dreadful information.
Sam clumped up the stairs, entered, peered around the slightly darkened room and ordered two drinks. He retreated to a far corner and moodily went over his thoughts again.
At the opposite side of the room three men eyed him curiously. He was well known by nearly everyone of consequence on the island and they were curious about him. Sam Mahy was an affable fellow usually, so why had he taken himself to a corner to sit with his back to all comers?
Victor le Page’s eyebrows lifted. ‘He looks like death warmed up,’ he said in a low voice.
James le Canu nodded. ‘Never seen him standoffish like this before,’ he agreed.
Constable Emil le Norman was also perplexed but because of his work he was inclined to look at a situation differently to his friends. He agreed with the others though and was puzzled.
‘Woman trouble?’ the policeman suggested gently. He was always eager to acquire information that could be stored away in his excellent memory.
Victor snorted with amusement. ‘Him? Not likely! He’s a sworn widower though I heard a whisper long ago that Emily Ferbrache of Cobo wouldn’t mind him popping her the question. The trouble is though he doesn’t even see her.’
‘Why is he dressed like a fisherman?’ James murmured with a frown.
Emil had also registered this fact. He mused over it for a few seconds. ‘Anyone would think he’s been over to France and didn’t want to appear well off.’
The lawyer looked at him sharply, then back again to Sam. It was true. He knew for whom Mahy worked and a niggle of something touched his mind. He remembered back to Madam Noyen’s appointment and her family plans. Surely there could not be any connection but, if so, was his precious integrity affected? He frowned a little, something which Emil le Norman did not miss.
Victor did miss this little by-play, too intent on studying Sam. There was something wrong somewhere and he felt uneasy. That was two double whiskies old Sam had just knocked back and everyone knew he was an ale man. Victor’s eyes narrowed but he kept them turned well away from Emil, only too well aware how sharp his friend could be. It crossed his mind that another visit to his grandmère in the near future might not go amiss. Certainly if there was trouble in the family he was the only man they could turn to. That fool Noyen was useless. Now Grandmère had welcomed him back into the fold, he felt a responsibility for her and all of them, especially Mary.
Sam stood up, totally oblivious to the three interested spectators. He could not put off the evil moment any longer but even that amount of whisky had not fortified him. He must catch the bus and go straight to the mistress. Dear God, he asked himself, how strong is her heart? What was Mary going to say—or do?
He missed one bus, so waited nearly half an hour for the next, then, later, strode heavily up the lane to the cottage. He found Mary and the mistress sitting together, discussing domestic matters when Sam gave a rap, opened the door and entered.
‘Sam!’ they cried together. ‘So wonderful to see you back!’
Sam knew they both meant it and his heart was touched, then it went icy cold. Mary bustled around to make tea and provide food while Louise simply watched Sam, tiny puckers on her forehead. Sam knew he could not yet meet her eyes.
Louise went cold as if a ghost had walked on her grave. Now what had gone wrong? It could not be the money. That was safely on deposit, after a credit transfer, already earning interest on the mainland. Louise knew better than to badger a man before he ate. She was consumed with worried curiosity but disciplined herself to wait. Mary scurried around oblivious to anything wrong.
After Sam had eaten and finished two large mugs of tea, he sat back in his chair and eyed the womenfolk who faced him with anticipation; Louise with forebodings and Mary bubbling with excitement at the start of her plan.
Sam noticed how drawn the mistress looked. Had something happened in his absence? He took his time in filling his pipe than looked Louise straight in the eye.
‘All right!’ he said bluntly. ‘What’s happened while I’ve been away?’
‘Everything!’ Louise replied for both of them after a glance at Mary and receiving her nod of agreement to speak.
‘Duret, Mary and Victor le Page all turned up at the same time when Mary returned from town. Victor was standing next to Mary and Duret objected. He snatched her away. The men exchanged words and Duret threw a punch at Victor which missed.’
‘He did?’ Sam gasped. ‘I didn’t think he had it in him!’
‘They fought,’ Louise continued, ‘and Duret received a hiding. Then I came to my stupid senses at last and brought my splendid grandson in here to have tea!’
‘About time too!’ Sam snorted. ‘It’s taken you long enough, you stubborn old woman!’
Louise had the grace to blush before she intimated that Mary should continue the tale.
‘I then had a set-to with Duret and it’s over between us,’ Mary told him in a low voice. ‘I’m moving into the top room and there’s a bolt on the door. I’ve told Duret if he bothers me again, in any way, I’ll slide the carving knife between his ribs!’
‘Have you indeed?’ Sam gasped, shocked at Mary’s venom though not unduly surprised. The marriage had been on the rocks from the time Mary showed with Edwin but this was an unexpected turn-up for the book. Where did that leave Mary with le Page—especially as the mistress had come to her senses about him? Sam took a deep breath.
‘Where is Duret?’ he asked, playing for time.
Both Mary and Louise shrugged. ‘We don’t know, he’s vanished!’ Mary added.
Louise snorted. ‘He’ll come sidling back when his belly is empty!’ she said coldly.
‘I’ve something to tell both of you about Duret too,’ Sam began evenly, aware he had their complete attention. ‘It’s not nice,’ he warned.
‘Go on!’ Mary groaned. ‘I’m past being shocked now.’
Sam doubted this but continued. ‘Did you know, either of you, that for weeks, perhaps even months, Raoul has been covering for Duret at work?’
‘What?’ Mary snapped. ‘Explain, Sam!’
‘You can’t blame Raoul. He is young, keen and inexperienced with life. He has also been in awe of Duret who, after all, is family and the heir. Raoul has been desperate to prove himself and please both of you. Also he has been highly embarrassed. Raoul simply worked harder than ever to do Duret’s tasks as well as his own.’
‘The stupid boy!’ Louise exclaimed her cheeks flaming pink. ‘He should have spoken to one of us!’
Sam shook his head. ‘How?’ he asked reasonably, ‘You are both tough, strong characters and he is only the hired hand. He thought if he came telling tales, so to speak, you would despise him.’
‘How foolish!’ Mary cried, every bit as angry as Tante Louise. ‘But where did Duret go then?’
Here we go, Sam told himself grimly. There was no way to give such news elegantly so he had decided to come straight out with it.
‘He’s been taking himself up to a seedy part of St Sampson.’
‘What!’ Mary and Tante exclaimed together. ‘But why?’
‘Gambling!’ Sam told them bluntly.
Both Mary and Tante were too shocked for immediate comment. They slowly looked at each other, then back at Sam.
‘Go on, Sam!’ Mary said grimly.
‘Duret is no gambler I’m afraid. He ran up debts. Big debts, too, I might add. He also drank the hard stuff at the same time, which all costs.’
Mary could hardly believe her ears. Duret was doing—this? Had he gone stark, raving mad or was he just showing his true self? Tante shook her head with disbelief. If any one other than Sam had told her this she would have attacked them verbally. Drinking and gambling had never been family weaknesses.
An awful suspicion shot into Mary’s head. Her eyes opened wide and she sat even more erect in the chair.
‘It was Duret who—!’
‘Took the diamonds!’ Sam finished for her.
‘Oh no!’ Tante groaned, shaking her head, her shoulders slumping. She fell silent but they could see she was thinking when her eyes opened wide and she scowled.
‘That’s when he found out!’ she cried. ‘That day I asked him to stay here and rearrange the furniture. I distinctly remember—more fool me—asking him to take that picture down and try it in another light. He must have seen the black tape at the back, perhaps felt the little lumps with his fingers, then one day when I was away, sneaked back to investigate. Oh, the disgrace of it all. Here we’ve been thinking it’s someone else, even suspecting Gwen or Emily.’
