Page 129 of The Christmas Retreat
I would have taken her back with me to Lamorna then, but she begged for a little more time, for she was painting the local scenery.
It was hard reading that again, but I thought I’d really have liked Milly!
As I read on, more paragraphs seemed to leap out at me, signposts to their last months of life together.
14 August 1919
Today I brought Arwen home to Lamorna. Edwin was not here, having gone to London with a friend, for the opening of an exhibition.
He does not know the truth, of course, and so still seems very sanguine that Arwen will soon change her mind about marrying him.
Arwen was enchanted by Smuggler’s Cottage …
We are to share the studio I have created in an old outbuilding in our small garden.
I raised a toast in damson wine to our happy future, living and working together in Lamorna.
‘Yes, here’s to us – we will be happy,’ she said fiercely, ‘for I will not let what has happened in the past define my future!’
2 September 1919
Life here has settled down into a pleasant rhythm and although the atmosphere was a little awkward at first when Edwin returned, we all soon fell into our old habits of friendly discussion and a shared passion and respect for each other’s work.
Indeed, as we’d already seen in Arwen’s seascapes in Caradoc’s exhibition, her way of capturing the elements and diffused light had developed into a distinct style all of her own. Edwin jokingly calls her the Infant Prodigy, which makes her indignant, since she is now not far off her nineteenth birthday.
Arwen paints as if driven, but I expect her complete absorption in her work is the best medicine for her.
Edwin is off to London again, where he has retained his old studio space with a friend, and I predict he will spend less and less time here, especially since Arwen shows no sign of relenting about marrying him and, of course, he does not know why …
I have introduced Arwen to our circle of friends, old and new, including Laura Knight and her husband. We very much admire her work and she asked Arwen if she would serve as model for some paintings she planned to do of the Lamorna beach and cliffs …
29 October 1919
Our lives together over the last few weeks have been so very happy and fulfilling apart from a fear that Arwen might be pregnant. Our fears seemed at first allayed – but now, the worst has been confirmed.
Edwin hasn’t been here much, and it seems that although I am happy to accept loving friendship, he is not. But now Arwen will have to tell him soon – and why she is not sure if he or Caradoc is the baby’s father.
Meanwhile, it seems to have made us both work with even greater compulsion …
26 November 1919
I took Arwen to see a doctor, for we were worried that intermittent bleeding might mean that all was not well with the pregnancy, but he rather dismissed this as not unusual.
We sat up very late, talking it all over. The doctor, clearly shocked by Arwen’s unwed state, had brought home to us the likely reaction of those around us when the pregnancy became obvious. Even now, although Arwen was still slender, her shape is changing.
Since I thought the idea of bearing a child conceived in such a way would be abhorrent to her, I suggested we could go away somewhere where we were not known for a few months, then return once the baby had been adopted by some suitable family.
But Arwen surprised me by insisting that she wanted to keep her baby. However it had been conceived, it was now part of her and she wouldn’t give it up. I said in that case we would simply brazen it out: our good friends wouldn’t shun us and those who did could go hang!
I’ve already shocked most of the local inhabitants by wearing sailor trousers, so this will be just one more thing for them to talk about!
Arwen has written the difficult letter to Edwin, telling him the whole truth, which we knew would come as a great shock to him, and of our plans.
He didn’t reply, but instead came straight down and, again, asked Arwen to marry him. She told me that he had proposed in order, he said, to give the child a name, and while this was very chivalric of him, she was sure he wasn’t any longer in love with her.
Edwin has sent a stiff note, saying he won’t come to the cottage again, but offering to continue paying his share of the expenses, which I suppose is kind but unnecessary, since our parents left us both well enough provided for so that I can manage to keep us both in comfort, if not luxury.
He has also offered to help with any expenses involved with the child, whether his or not, although I don’t suppose that that is something we will ever know. I do think the better of him for this.
