Sea Mistress Read Online Free PDF Page B

reply but the way he shook out the folds of the newspaper indicated he wanted nothing to do with any such discussion.
    Disheartened, Bridie left the room and went upstairs to the master bedroom. Paul’s bag was packed, it was as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her. On an impulse, she knelt down and tugged at the clasp, the bag gaped open and there were Paul’s clean, crisp shirts and fresh underwear and socks. Not much to take when he was going to sea for a month or more. But then he had another wardrobe aboard his ship. He always sailed with a full complement of kit on the Marie Clare .
    Bridie could understand the wanderlust that drove her husband, she sometimes heard the call of the sea herself, and yet she was growing tired of the gap that was between them. What had happened to all that love they’d shared? Or was she mistaken, was it only her ships Paul had wanted and she had been a necessary part of the package?
    Something was jutting out of the inside pocket of the bag, a leather-bound book, a diary she thought with a sudden sense of discovery. She drew it out and saw that it was much used. Paul’s fine handwriting was small, difficult to decipher but at once Bridie could see that it was no record of any amorous adventures. She sank onto the bed and began to read.
    It seemed to make little sense, there were notes concerning odd cargos which brought little profit, things like boxes of candles and leather horse-collars. There were dates, apparently of meetings and the name Monkton appeared several times and Ireland was mentioned on almost every page.
    Baffled, she returned it to the bag and snapped the catch shut. Perhaps she was growing obsessed, her reasoning distorted by jealousy. Well, she would go downstairs and discuss with Paul which school he would like their sons to attend when they were older, that approach was sure to put him in a better frame of mind. She left the room and closed the door quietly behind her.
    Ellie carried the laden tray up the stairs to Jubilee’s room. She had insisted he rest after what he called his ‘funny turn’ and though he’d protested, she could see he was grateful to spend a few days in bed. This in itself was worrying, it was seldom Jubilee was indisposed.
    â€˜â€™Bout time you brought my grub.’ Jubilee was resting against the pillows, he was still pale and the flesh hung around his jowls. ‘A man could starve to death by here in this bed while his wife gallivants round Swansea.’
    Ellie knew he didn’t mean a word of it. ‘Stop your complaining, man.’ She placed the tray on the washstand and brought a bowl of soup to the bed. ‘Shall I help you?’
    â€˜Good Lord, no. When the day comes I can’t feed myself I’ll be ready for my box.’
    Ellie remembered when he’d said the same thing about working the tannery and she bit her lip trying not to show her anxiety. She waited while Jubilee bent his head to say grace and then placed the soup in front of him. But his hands were shaking and after a moment, Ellie took the spoon.
    â€˜Come on you stubborn old goat, if you don’t eat you won’t get well again and then what will I do?’
    â€˜I’m not ready to go, not for a while yet, so don’t go looking for my nest egg.’
    Ellie smiled. ‘I’d be lucky to have a nest egg after your days, Jubilee Hopkins, spent it all in drinking and riotous living, you.’
    A sparkle came to his eyes. ‘Aye, once maybe, the drinking anyway but those days are long gone, my girl.’
    Ellie saw that he ate most of the soup before she took away the bowl. ‘I’ve made some nice bread pudding would you like some?’
    â€˜Not now, couldn’t manage anything more, perhaps I’ll have some for tea, what about that?’
    â€˜All right then for tea, but you must eat some of it, mind, there’s four good eggs in that pudding, it will stick to your ribs,