Kerensa’s heart gave a panicky jerk. Fifty guineas would halve the amount she wanted to give to Bartholomew. ‘Here!’ she shouted, throwing her purse at his feet. ‘There are two sovereigns in there. I’ll bring as much as I can tomorrow, here, where we’re standing now. I’m not meeting you in an alleyway, it will have to be out in the open. It had better be the last time I hear from you or I promise I will tell my husband and you can face the consequences!’

She darted forward to get away from him but the sailor snatched the bag of buns out of her hands. This was the final insult. With her whole world seemingly crashing down around her and her brutalised emotions refusing to give vent in tears she ran blindly to the blacksmith’s shop. A scream tore from her heart as a hand on her arm pulled her into a doorway.

Chapter 20

‘It’s all right, Kerensa, it’s me.’

‘Oh, Clem, Clem!’

And then suddenly she was crying. She threw herself into his arms and sobbed wretched tears. She clung to him, clawing at his coat, her body heaving as all the fears, frustrations and pain she had endured for so long swelled up and flowed through her, to rip out at the surface in scalding bitter-sweet tears.

Clem held her very close. ‘What is it, my precious love,’ he murmured soothingly, slipping back easily into terms of endearment for her.

‘Oh, Clem, hold me, please don’t let me go,’ she sobbed, her words muffled in his coat.

‘I’ll hold you for ever if you want me to, my love,’ he said tenderly, raising her face and smoothing her hair from her wet eyes. ‘But we can’t stay here in this doorway, someone might see us. An acquaintance of mine lives here and is away visiting his folk at Lamorna. I’ve been looking in on the place for him. Let’s go inside.’

Clem had been about to leave for home when he saw Kerensa running wildly through the rain. He unlocked the solid wooden door again, ushered her into a gloomy room, then looked up and down the road to see if anyone was watching.

‘I don’t think anyone saw us,’ he said. Without a moment’s hesitation he took Kerensa back in his arms and rocked her slowly in a natural rhythm until she had grown quite calm.

Her frightened eyes had taken in some aspects of the small square room. The ceiling was low, barely above Clem’s head. Ragged mats were on the floor and a loose window creaked in the wind. There was a strong smell of dampness and camphor oil. On the mantelshelf was a row of pottery figures, one had an ugly leering face which reminded Kerensa of the sailor. She turned quickly away, pressing closer to Clem and finding comfort in his familiar lean body.