The Castlefield Collector

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  The next occasion had been far more pleasurable. He was called Antonio, and worked at the hotel as a waiter. He was an absolute darling with mysterious dark eyes and glossy black hair. Evie couldn’t take him up to her own room, as Mumsie was there, and a light sleeper, so she accompanied him to the servant’s quarters. This was a rather small room in the attics that smelt of garlic but gave the whole adventure an interesting little fillip, that essential spark of danger. And she certainly knew what was happening this time. Antonio took great care that she did.

  But when he wished to repeat the exercise the following evening, she pretended not to understand and went off with a Polish Count, who was less amorous, admittedly, but reasonably good-looking and quite revoltingly rich.

  After him came an Italian opera singer, a Belgium millionaire with a penchant for playing Mah Jong in the raw and more recently, a rich American who told her amusing tales of his several divorces. She was part of quite a marvellous little circle, constantly changing as they came and went to the hotel, and they were all having ripping fun. On one occasion they played a wonderful little game where everyone was given a number. You spun a dice and went off with whoever you got. The challenge was to find somewhere completely outrageous to do IT. Evie and her partner, she couldn’t quite recall his name, did it twice, once on the back of a tram, secretly hoping the conductor might turn round and spot them, though unfortunately he didn’t. And once among the rubbish bins behind a restaurant between courses, what delicious fun that was!

  Oh, yes indeed, Evie thought, the little episode at the mill, which had seemed to cost her dear by losing her a husband, had now achieved quite the reverse. Life had taken a surprising turn for the better.

  And who knew what might happen next? The Polish Count or an Italian millionaire could propose to her at any moment. It was all most satisfying.

  * * *

  Aggie was busily planning her wedding, which was to take place in the spring. May, she decided, would be an ideal month. There was to be a maypole and a May Queen set up on the wharf, a band concert and the usual jollities that heralded the start of a new season, so it somehow seemed to be an ideal time for a wedding. She was loving the attention and all the excitement of buying new things; had gone a bit mad ordering not only new furniture for the parlour such as a three piece suit in Rexine, but also for their bedroom. She hadn’t wanted to sleep in Harold’s old bed so had bought a new one, together with a matching, solid oak bedroom suite that had cost nineteen pounds. And the new gas cooker she’d ordered for the back kitchen was the very latest in modern appliances.

  The only irritation was that her sister would clearly not be available as a bridesmaid. How selfish of Dolly to disappear and not let anyone know where she was; to think only of herself and not of others.

  Worse, those three lads always seemed to be hanging around the house. Aggie particularly objected to Sam. It was most disturbing having him around on a daily basis, being reminded of what she’d given up. Matt and Davey would go off searching for Dolly while Sam remained, a constant presence in their kitchen at Tully Court, worrying over the situation with her mother. Not only was he a thorn in her side, but all this fuss about Dolly detracted Maisie’s attention from the wedding, upon which she should more properly be concentrated; making Aggie’s dress for one thing.

  Not that she let Sam see how he affected her. She made it very clear by her constant references to Harold and the wedding plans, her hopes for the future, including a family, that their own little relationship was well and truly over. There was no question but that she’d been potty about Sam Clayton at one time and if he’d come up to scratch financially, she’d have chosen him for a husband like a shot. But she’d opted for Harold instead, since he was so nicely placed, and had no wish to make comparisons between the two men.

  Even so, each and every night when she got home from the mill, Sam would be there, a map spread out on the kitchen table, going over with Maisie where they should search next. He was planning it like a military campaign, as if he were a sergeant sending his men out on patrol. Tonight, he was off to Smithfield Market, not for the first time but he was explaining that it was worth trying again as folk came there from all over Manchester.

  ‘Get on your way then,’ Aggie curtly instructed him.

  ‘Nay, let the lad finish his tea first.’ Maisie had even taken to feeding him and since his own feckless mother was a terrible cook, Sam wasn’t likely to refuse.

  ‘Why doesn’t he stay away?’ Aggie grumbled to her mother, when he’d finally gone.

  Maisie looked at her askance. ‘Sam and his mates are doing a grand job looking for our Dolly. Who else is taking the trouble? Not you, lady. Nobody else seems to care but them and me, Sam in particular, I’d say, judging by the number of times he’s round here. So I hope you’re happy about giving him up. He seems to have changed his allegiance.’

  Aggie thought he might have a different motivation, still angling for her to have a change of heart and go back to him, but she flicked back her chestnut curls and pretended she didn’t understand what her mother meant. ‘Then I wish he’d hurry up and find that stupid sister of mine, preferably in time for my wedding. Have you started on my dress yet, Mam? You’d best hurry up and get on with it. Make one for our Dolly too, just in case.’

  ‘And how will I find the cash to buy the material?’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. Harold will pay.’

  ‘He has bottomless pockets, has he?’

  ‘Deep enough for a decent wedding so stop worrying about money the whole time. Harold wants only the best for me. He adores me.’ Raising her eyebrows questioningly, as if to imply that her own mother didn’t.

  ‘It may surprise you to know, Aggie love, that there are more important things for me to worry over than your wedding.’

  ‘Isn’t that typical of you, always putting our Dolly first.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s because she needs more help than you do, even if she doesn’t realise it.’

  ‘Well, she obviously doesn’t care about us any more. Not a word since she left.’

  ‘I’m sure she’s just confused, that’s all. Apart from losing her dad in that terrible accident, which affected us all, it was a shocking thing for her to find out about herself, and not in a nice way either. You’d no right to drop it on her like that. It wouldn’t do any harm for you to be a bit more generous-hearted, girl.’

  Aggie stretched wide her lovely hazel eyes. ‘Generous to you, my immoral mother who betrayed my poor father and would probably sleep with anything in trousers? I don’t think so. Personally, I’ll be right glad to get out of this godforsaken hole myself. It can’t happen soon enough for me.’ And having said her piece, Aggie flounced out of the house leaving Maisie in tears.

  * * *

  Following the debacle with her first client, Dolly didn’t intend to hang around and repeat the occurrence. She wasted no time in packing her bag, although not the tangerine frock, only her own things that she had arrived with. She thanked Cabbage Lil, offering profound apologies for the trouble she’d caused and admitted that it simply wasn’t in her to do what was required.

  ‘I expect I owe you a deal of money, for me food and keep. Once I get a proper job, I’ll send it on to you.’ All she ever seemed to achieve was more debt.

  But kind-hearted Lil wouldn’t hear of it. ‘Nay lass, don’t worry none about that. I were never certain that you had it in you to be a shameless hussy.’ Lil chuckled and then allowed the smile to fade into a frown. ‘You should go home to that lovely mam of yours what you’re always talking about, and be respectable. You never did say why you left in the first place.’

  And because Lil had been so kind to her, Dolly finally told her everything. The woman listened carefully, head on one side like an attentive sparrow, without interrupting once. When she was done, Lil quietly asked: ‘But how do you know that he’s dead, this talleyman? How can you be sure? Because if he isn’t, then there’s no reason why you shouldn’t
go home to your mam, at least to give yerself time to find a proper job and a place of yer own, happen get yerself a nice young man.’

  ‘If only I could be sure.’

  ‘I’ll find out for you. It can’t be too difficult. Murder might be reasonably common in these parts but it still excites gossip. I can ask around. Nifty Jack, you say?’

  Within twenty-four hours she had the answer that he was perfectly fit and well. Dolly marvelled at her own stupidity at not mentioning it sooner, which would have saved her all this worry. Consumed by guilt, she supposed.

  ‘They say he spent a few days in hospital, and several more in recuperation, so you obviously gave him a real clout with that poker, though it didn’t knock any sense into his head, apparently. He’s back to his old tricks, pushing folk into borrowing more than they need by promising them extra time to pay it off, and then changing his mind and putting the thumbscrews on. There are too many suffering at his hand, or so I’m reliably informed.’

  Dolly thought of the couple with the five children whom she’d met on that first night, all sleeping in one bed and knowing that they faced the workhouse because Nifty Jack had evicted them from their home. She wondered about Betty Deurden. She knew Betty’s mam wasn’t well and couldn’t work. Had it been Nifty who’d attacked her, just as he’d done to herself? And what of old Ma Liversedge, who had suddenly turned up her toes for no apparent reason, only hours after he’d called? What a callous-hearted, nasty little man he was. Oh, but despite the misery he caused, her heart lifted with happiness and new hope. If he wasn’t dead, then she wasn’t going to be locked up, or hanged. She could go home to her mam.

  Dolly began to cry from sheer relief. ‘Oh, Lil, I’m that grateful for your help.’

  ‘Here, don’t cry, I’ve another bit of good news for you. I’ve fetched someone back with me. That nice young man you were telling me about. Found him wandering the streets looking for you. He’s been asking after you on Smithfield Market where they do know me. “Ask Cabbage Lil, she knows everyone,” they said, so he came down here.’

  And there he was, standing in the doorway grinning at her.

  ‘Sam!’ Dolly flung herself into his arms, so delighted was she to see someone from home.

  There was no time to talk, as Lil was suddenly very anxious to get Dolly out of the house and on her way. ‘Here, I’ve fetched yer bag. It’s all packed. Now get off home with you lass, and don’t let me see you back here in a hurry.’

  Sam took the bag from Lil, equally eager to be off. ‘By heck, but I can’t wait to see your mam’s face. She’ll be made up to see you.’

  As Dolly moved to follow him out the door, Lil whispered quickly in her ear. ‘I haven’t told him. He doesn’t know what this house is, or what I am, or what you nearly were. And I’d advise you not to tell him neither. Men can be a bit two-faced when it comes to sex. Least said, soonest mended.’

  * * *

  ‘Eeh Dolly, I can’t believe I’ve actually found you at last.’ They were walking along Liverpool Road in Castlefield, nearly home, and they’d hardly stopped talking the whole way. Sam had described to her how and where he’d searched, day after day, and how her mother had wept.

  ‘I bet our Aggie hasn’t shed many tears.’

  Sam chuckled. ‘Aye, you might be right there.’ Sam had pretty well given up all hope of recapturing Aggie’s fickle affections. She was clearly besotted with Harold Entwistle, or with his money at least. And the more he’d thought about Dolly and searched for her, the more he’d needed to find her. He stopped walking to look down at her, his gaze unwavering, steady on hers. ‘I’ve missed you Dolly. Never thought I would, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind.’

  Dolly stared up at him, her heart giving strange little flutters. He seemed taller than she remembered, bigger, stronger, and even better looking, if that were possible. ‘Could you not?’ she asked, in her softest voice.

  He shook his head, then before she guessed what he was about to do, he’d dropped her bag, pulled her into his arms and was kissing her. It was the softest, warmest, most exciting kiss she’d ever experienced, and seemed to go on forever. Not that she’d had many to compare it with, and most of those had been rushed and stolen in the schoolyard, behind the bike shed. Now she melted against him, felt his arms go tight about her, half lifting her off her feet, and Dolly thought she must be in heaven. When the kiss finally ended she felt giddy with delight, all light-headed and dazed with wonder.

  ‘By heck,’ she joked, not wanting him to see how much he’d affected her. ‘If I’d known you were missing me that much, I’d ’ve come home sooner.’

  ‘Where have you been, Dolly, all this time? Who was that woman, that Cabbage Lil?’

  ‘Just someone who gave me a helping hand when I needed it. Nobody you need worry about. Do you want to kiss me again, Sam Clayton?’

  He grinned at her. ‘Fast piece.’

  Dolly knew she was being forward, but she was desperate to get the conversation off Cabbage Lil. ‘I’m making up for all these missing weeks. Hey, this offer doesn’t last forever. Do you or don’t you?’

  ‘Don’t mind if I do.’ And he gathered her to him and kissed her again, finding it really quite pleasant. Dolly put her arms about his neck and kissed him back for all she was worth.

  * * *

  The reunion between mother and daughter was difficult. Certainly Maisie wrapped her arms around Dolly and gave her a big hug, tears of relief rolling down her cheeks, but there was a slight awkwardness between them, despite her mother’s welcome. ‘Poor love, I expect you thought you’d killed that rogue.’

  ‘I did, Mam. I thought they’d lock me up if I ever came home.’

  ‘I’m sorry to say he’s alive and well and going about his business as nasty as ever, so don’t you fret none about him. Sit yourself down and get some food inside you. You must be starving.’

  Dolly didn’t like to say that she’d been better fed these last months than ever before in her life. Nor did she explain where she’d been exactly, or what had happened to her. Least said, soonest mended. Wasn’t that Cabbage Lil’s advice? One she would most certainly heed, particularly where Maisie was concerned.

  Somehow, neither woman felt able to broach the real reason for her hasty departure, that of Dolly’s need for an explanation about her father, and so it continued to fester between them, like a sore, with no healing words or explanation forthcoming on Maisie’s part, and no offer of trust or forgiveness on Dolly’s. It wasn’t that she wanted to believe her mother was a whore, just like Sylvie and Fran, Gladys and all the rest, but what alternative did she have?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Aggie’s wedding was to go ahead as planned. The girls at the mill had had their bit of fun, decorating her frame with chamber pots and a frilly nightdress. They’d even had a collection and bought her a baking bowl and rolling pin for her new kitchen. ‘Or belt him with one when he comes home late,’ suggested one.

  Mr Barker walked through the mill specially to give her half a crown, as a token of his good wishes. Aggie very nearly dropped a curtsey she was so thrilled, but then remembered to tell him that she might be leaving. ‘I’ll be giving my job up once I’m wed.’

  He gave a sarcastic little laugh. ‘I doubt you can afford to do that. You’ll need the money even more now. What about that sister of yours, Dolly. Has she come home yet?’

  Aggie was stunned, not simply that he should imagine Harold couldn’t afford to keep her, but that he should be aware Dolly was even missing. ‘Yes, Sam Clayton found her.’

  He smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it. No harm done then.’ And he continued on his way, with a good deal of whispering and mee-mawing from her work mates as he walked slowly down the alley between the frames.

  ‘Stop gawping,’ Aggie snapped, annoyed her resignation had gone so badly. ‘It was good of him to think of me, and I shall put the money in a special box and never spend it.’

  Aggie felt proud to have been given the half
crown, though it had spoiled the moment somewhat that he should mention Dolly in the same breath. But at least her sister would be present after all in the bridesmaid frock that Maisie had sat up all night to finish.

  That night the two sisters tried on their finery and yet again Aggie pumped Dolly for information, curious to discover what she’d been up to all these long months. She’d said infuriatingly little about it and even now studiously avoided answering. Dolly seemed more interested in Aggie’s own plans.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re going through with this wedding. You, marrying Harold Entwistle, the overlooker, I can’t quite believe it.’

  ‘And why shouldn’t I? He’s a good man, and he’ll make a kind and generous husband.’

  Dolly chuckled. ‘Don’t think because he’s been splashing his money about while he courted you and generously paid for a grand wedding, that it will carry on that way. He might be well placed, but he’s not made of brass. Harsh reality will soon strike home once the honeymoon is over. You’ll be back in the mill trying to make one shilling do the work of two, same as always.’

  Aggie twitched the skirt of her wedding gown, cream lace with a handkerchief hem, just as she’d wanted, positively weighed down with beads; and a veil trimmed with a wreath of tiny rosebuds. She’d changed her mind about letting her mother make it, leaving Dolly to wear something homemade, while she’d bought her own gown from Kendals department store instead. Aggie felt as grand as the Duchess of York had looked at her own wedding just a few years back, and she certainly had no intention of taking advice from a sister who’d been up to goodness what in the back streets of Salford.

  ‘If it has anything to do with you, Dolly, which it hasn’t, I’ll have you know that you’ve got it all wrong. Harold has let me buy all new for the house, and I’m going to give up work and look after it. So what about you? Are you going to tell me what you’ve been up to? Don’t you realise Mam’s been worried sick. We all have,’ she added, thinking it politic to include herself in the general anxiety.

 

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