The Castlefield Collector
Page 36
Nor had she managed to pay off Nifty Jack, who was haunting her doorstep pretty well every day. She never had a minute’s peace, terrified he might snatch little Noel, hold her baby to ransom, or drown him in the canal like a cat. If only they could move to the suburbs, as Harold had once promised, but with the gaffer sick things were going from bad to worse at the mill. She couldn’t even squeeze any of her husband’s savings out of him to pay off the talleyman for good. Harold was determined to hang on to every penny.
As ever, Aggie took refuge in self-pity. ‘What have you ever done to help me? Not even prepared to lend me money to get myself out of debt, so why shouldn’t I have a bit of fun?’
Dolly regarded her out of narrowed eyes. ‘You didn’t ask for a loan until after you got pregnant, when you needed baby stuff so don’t use that as an excuse. You had it in for me, Aggie, and were always jealous, malicious, conniving and manipulating. You used to play nasty little tricks on me when we were growing up, always wanting to be Calvin’s favourite, shutting me out and making me feel unwanted! You were determined to blame me for his accident. Is that the reason you slept with my husband? Because you did, didn’t you? How many times?’
‘It was your own fault for stupidly getting yourself embroiled with Evie Barker and her strike breaking. If you’d never done that she’d’ve married her rich husband, never come to work at the mill and taken up with Sam. It might all have been different.’
Dolly was thinking fast. ‘You have a strange knack of twisting the truth to suit yourself. You rejected Sam and chose Harold, only wanting him out of spite for money. After I’d caught Sam with Evie Barker and rejected him, did he come looking for you instead?’
‘Aye, he was drunk and yes, he couldn’t keep his hands off me, just like the old days. He never did love you!’
The flush on Aggie’s cheeks proved she’d guessed correctly. ‘So you took your revenge by sleeping with my husband. Well, you’re welcome to him.’
‘You adored Sam Clayton, always did, always will.’
‘Oh, I think I’m cured of that particular sickness.’ Dolly was fighting to keep control, to steady the tremor in her voice, patience having disappeared. This silly woman had deliberately set out to hurt and ruin her life and her marriage. How much easier it would all have been if they’d supported each other, as sisters should; and Aggie had helped to pay off the debt her own father had left. Instead she’d been eaten up with jealousy because of the good relationship she and Maisie had enjoyed. She’d successfully ruined that too for a while.
‘Pity you didn’t marry Sam, as you and he would make a good pair. And what does Harold think of this little fling of yours?’
Dolly watched with interest as every ounce of colour drained from Aggie’s face. ‘Oh dear, didn’t you stop to consider how your own husband might react if he found out Noel wasn’t his son? You were always quick to condemn Mam, now you’re the one who has brought a little cuckoo into the nest. How would you like it if someone addressed your child with the kind of words you’ve used on me? I doubt you’d care for it much. At least Mam loved Nathan Barker, difficult and selfish though he undoubtedly was. What’s your excuse, revenge and jealousy? Is that a good reason for betraying a faithful husband?’
‘You aren’t going to tell him? You must never mention this to Harold.’
A short pause before Dolly answered. Long enough to see Aggie start to sweat. ‘No, I’m not going to mention this most enlightening conversation. You are the telltale, the one with a rotten egg where your heart should be, not me. I seem to remember once saying that some secrets are best kept. I still believe that.’
Aggie didn’t offer any thanks for this generosity of spirit on Dolly’s behalf. Instead, she sharply remarked, ‘He’d never believe you in any case. Harold adores me, and Noel too.’
Dolly could see that she was shaking, her small eyes darting frantically about as if seeking escape and finding none. It was plain she could see her whole life collapsing about her like a house of cards, and looked as if she was about to burst into tears.
Dolly said, ‘How much do you owe?’
Aggie was startled by the question but wearily gave the answer, proving this was in the forefront of her mind. ‘About five pounds, or maybe six! I paid some off but—’
‘He keeps changing the interest rate, putting it up and up. If I settle this debt for you, Aggie, I want you to promise never to borrow money again. Ever! And you mustn’t sleep with anyone other than your own husband, nor accuse me, or anyone else for the matter of being a bastard, or blame them for a situation that is none of their making. Do I make myself clear? You are going to try, Aggie, against all the odds, to turn yourself into the type of mother that your son deserves. That way, you and I can put all this nasty mess behind us.’
‘That’s blackmail!’ Aggie was staring at her wide-eyed, her expression a mixture of shock and relief.
‘So it is. And I shall be watching to see that you keep to our bargain. I wouldn’t wish to find myself obliged to call upon Harold’s assistance in the matter. Do we have a deal?’
‘What are you going to do about Sam?’
‘That’s my business. Do we have a deal, or not, sister dear? Your future good behaviour in return for me wiping your slate clean is essential.’
‘All right, we have,’ agreed a strangely subdued Aggie.
Chapter Thirty
Sam left the house without a word of argument, seeming to be almost relieved that the battle was over, even if he had lost his comfy billet. Finding another wasn’t proving easy. Dave refused to let him move back in with them as there was another baby on the way, and when Sam told his one-time friend, Matt, that Dolly had thrown him out and he was in need of new quarters, instead of the anticipated sympathy, Matt simply stared at him then turned his back and hurried away.
Fortunately, later that day, Sam spotted a likely new barmaid in the Navigation. In no time at all, on hearing of his plight, she’d invited him round to her house, which she shared with her twin sister. Two for the price of one, thought Sam, pulling off his boots by a blazing fire while the girls fussed about him. This would do nicely.
Dolly kept her word and paid off Nifty Jack. Even gave him a piece of her mind about harassing nursing mothers and small babies. ‘I’ll have you arrested for the attempted murder of my nephew if you come anywhere near me and mine ever again,’ she told him.
Her remarks bounced off him like water off a tar baby, having no effect whatsoever. Nifty Jack carefully counted the coins she gave him, slid them into his pocket, expressed his pleasure at doing business with her and swaggered off.
‘’Til next time,’ he called. He even had the cheek to graciously tip his bowler hat at her, before vanishing round the corner looking mighty pleased with himself.
‘I don’t think so,’ Dolly murmured to herself.
This time when she asked her brothers for help, they readily agreed. Being a nuisance to an adult in debt was one thing, threatening a baby was quite another. Later that same evening as the talleyman was going about his nefarious business, making his calls and creating havoc in every household, as was his wont, several figures suddenly emerged from the shadows and before he’d had time to see who they were, a gag had been stuffed in his mouth and a sack pulled over his head. Even as he tried to kick them off, he found himself being trussed up like a chicken and lifted from the ground by several pairs of strong hands. Then all went black as something hit him over the head.
‘We dumped him deep in the hold of a ship bound for Ireland via Liverpool,’ Josh told her the next day.
Eli said, ‘Aye, by the time they find him and let him out, he’ll be far from these shores. It might even go all the way to America, and he’ll not have a penny to his name since we gave his collecting tin to the orphanage.
‘Oh, well done! Excellent, but what if he does get out at Ireland and takes the next ship back?’
‘We made it very clear that if he ever came home he’d get worse next
time,’ Abel put in. ‘He knew who we were, right enough, and that we meant business.’
‘Don’t you fret, Dolly,’ Willy comforted her. ‘We’re rid of him for good this time.’
‘Bless you!’ Dolly said, kissing all her brothers with relief.
* * *
Two weeks later Dolly was seated by her fire in the comfy chair she’d bought herself, feeling very much alone with nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to talk to, and far too much time on her hands to think.
Mam and Cyril were happily playing the role of lovebirds, singing their hearts out at the chapel and busily practising for the next Messiah. Her brothers and sisters-in-law were now making alternative arrangements for baby-minders, even doing their own washing these days. Young Willy was happily married and about to become a father for the first time.
Aggie and Harold were increasingly absorbed in their son, and now renting a house in the suburbs. The last time she’d seen her sister, Aggie had complained that she was finding life a bit quiet and Harold didn’t get home till much later, which was highly inconvenient. Dolly had merely given her a firm remark. ‘As Mam always used to say, Aggie, you make your bed and you lie in it.’
At least Aggie had a husband who would remain in blissful ignorance of his wife’s infidelity. And there was no one in Dolly’s bed at all.
When the knock came, she didn’t hear it. She’d had a tiring day doing her rounds, and must have drifted off to sleep in this deliciously comfy new chair. Dolly woke with a start and for a moment her mind took her back to the time when she’d worked as housekeeper for Nifty Jack, and he’d come home to find her still up and had attacked her. What a chain of events that had led to. It took a moment before her heart stopped racing and remembered that she didn’t need to watch for the talleyman any more. She was safe. They all were.
The knock came again, louder this time, and she shook herself awake. That was all in the past, over and done with. She hadn’t killed Nifty Jack, hadn’t killed anyone. Nor had she done anything wrong for Cabbage Lil, unlike some, and even Aggie had learned a valuable lesson.
She went to the door knowing that it wasn’t bad news, as it couldn’t be Sam coming home drunk from the pub. The last she’d heard he’d moved out Droylsden way with the barmaid from the Navigation. The divorce would go through in the fullness of time, using his desertion as grounds. She opened the door and blinked in surprise. ‘Matt?’
‘I kept hoping you’d come by the timber yard. Sam told me as how you’d called it a day at last, but I couldn’t quite pluck up the courage to call.’
‘Oh!’ She stared at him, not quite able to believe her eyes, or find anything more sensible to say.
‘I kept hoping you’d call and tell me yourself. You haven’t been avoiding me by any chance have you Dolly? Because, if so, I’d be upset, being a chap who doesn’t like to think that the girl I love has turned against me for no reason. You are still my girl, aren’t you Dolly? Or have you got too grand, now that you’re running your own business?’
A bubble of laughter started somewhere deep in her throat. ‘Don’t you start, I’ve enough with our Aggie.’
‘Well, are you going you ask me in, or keep me standing on the doorstep till Edna Crawshaw has everyone out on the street to have a good dander at me. No doubt they’ll all be saying that soon-to-be-divorced, Dolly Clayton, is seeing her fancy man again. What do you reckon?’
‘I think you’d best come in, Matt Thornton. I have my reputation to consider, after all.’
Blue eyes twinkling, she pushed wide the door and he had her in his arms before ever she’d managed to get it closed, which was most satisfying for all the matrons of Tully Court who sighed with pleasure behind their lace curtains at the sight of this pair of reunited lovers, and wiped a tear from their eye with the corner of a pinny.
Acknowledgements
I would first like to thank Bella Tweedale, whose Lancashire folk songs gave me the idea for the original title, Watch for the Talleyman. Thanks also to May Stothard, Bessie Jones, Alice Brook and Irene Baxter, who all gave up hours of their time to talk to me about life in the mill. A particular mention to Dolly Fitton, who allowed me to borrow her name, and although my story is entirely fictitious, I hope my character borrows some of this ninety-year-old’s get-up-and-go. My greatest thanks must go to librarian Dorothy Taylor, who found all these delightful people for me.
Next in A Salford Saga:
Dancing on Deansgate
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First published in the United Kingdom in 2004 by Hodder & Stoughton Ltd
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by
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Copyright © Freda Lightfoot, 2004
The moral right of Freda Lightfoot to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788636674
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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