Mary shook her head. ‘Billy and I have come to a mutual decision,’ she said carefully. ‘We both realise now that there was nothing but affection between us, like that of brother and sister instead of lovers. So we shan’t be getting married and it looks as if your friend Mary is fast becoming a vinegary old maid.’
‘I knew there was something wrong,’ Mali said gently. ‘You haven’t been yourself for some time now, Mary, in spite of your fantastic business success. I’m so sorry.’
‘No need to be.’ Mary rose and put down her cup. ‘This way, no one gets hurt. Come on, let’s go and serve some more soup, there’s an errand I must run before I get off home.’
If Gregory Irons was surprised at Mary’s request to buy shares in the Beaufort Works, he did not show it. His eyes, sharp and unfathomable, watched her every action and took in every word – almost as though he was learning it off by heart, Mary thought in surprise.
‘Why are you so interested?’ She caught him off guard with her abrupt question and a slight colour rose into the lawyer’s pale cheeks.
‘I was just wondering if I should buy a few shares myself. You did such a wonderful deal buying your premises that I have the greatest respect for your business acumen.’
Mary wasn’t too sure that he was speaking the truth, though his reply was plausible enough. Perhaps it was too glib, she thought uneasily. But then she dismissed her doubts for after all, what could the lawyer make out of the deal except to buy a few shares himself? She was becoming over-sensitive. She rose, picked up her bag and gloves and made for the door.
‘I’d like you to keep this information to yourself,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t want anyone, not even Brandon Sutton, to know who is buying the shares.’ As she hurried down the stairs and out into the street, Mary was still uneasy. She would have been more so if she could have seen Gregory Irons give his clerk a message, asking Mr Dean Sutton to come to his office at once.
Before returning home, Mary decided to call in at the Arcade to see that all the preparations were complete, for she had decided to go ahead and open the store. She was being harassed by her tenants who were worried about the loss of revenue and in all honesty she could not blame them.
She made a great clattering as she climbed the back stairs, for she had no wish to find Billy in the arms of Delmai Richardson again. But there were no lights in the building and the rooms up on the top floor were in darkness.
Puzzled, Mary tried the door and it swung open at a touch. It was eerie walking across the silent, shadowy room and she breathed a sigh of relief as the gaslight dispelled all but the deepest shadows. There were unwashed cups on the table and a half-empty toast rack, but there was no sign of life anywhere.
Then her eye was caught by a white envelope resting against the clock. She picked it up, opened it and stared unbelievingly at the words written in a hasty scrawl. After a moment, she crumpled the sheet of paper into a ball and threw in onto the floor. ‘Silly fool!’ she said, her voice sounding loud and strange in the emptiness of the room. She sat down heavily in a chair and stared around her, trying to examine her feelings.
Billy Gray and Delmai Richardson had run away together, it was unthinkable. By morning, the news would be all over town, for someone would have seen them leave either on an omnibus or at the station. She rose to her feet quickly; she must tell Rhian and Aunt Agnes, it was better they learned the truth from her.
She carefully locked the premises and hurried along the street. The air was chill, the darkness coming on early because of the overcast skies. Her mind was racing with questions: did Delmai Richardson love Billy, really love him, or was he simply a moment’s excitement? She could never return to Sweyn’s Eye – not now, not ever. For a married woman to run away with any man would have been a scandal, but with a man like Billy Gray who had been imprisoned for manslaughter it was unthinkable.
Auntie Agnes was drooping in her chair when Carrie showed Mary into the parlour. Rhian was nowhere to be seen and Mary looked questioningly at Heath.
‘She’s upstairs, she’s always alone in her room these days. Mary, I must talk to you about Rhian, it’s important.’
‘All right, Heath, but not now,’ Mary said quickly. ‘Please go and fetch her, she has to hear this.’
Rhian came with obvious reluctance and stood in the doorway with an almost fey expression in her eyes. Mary stared at her anxiously.
‘Come on, out with it,’ Aunt Agnes said testily. ‘There’s a funny one you are, Mary Jenkins, coming round here in a great haste and then standing there gawping at our Rhian. Get on with it, girl.’
Mary dragged her gaze away from Rhian’s pale face. ‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ she said carefully, ‘but I’ve got to tell you that Billy’s gone away.’
Rhian did not speak and her aunt stared at her impatiently. ‘Did you know that your brother was going away? No one tells me anything, think I’m senile they do, but I’ve got eyes and ears and I know what goes on in this town, don’t you worry.’
She looked at Mary. ‘Gone off with that lah-de-dah lady, I’ll be bound – that Mrs Richardson and her a married woman, should be ashamed the pair of them.’
Heath frowned. ‘What’s she talking about, Mary? What has Billy got to do with Mrs Richardson?’
Mary shook her head. ‘It’s true, he’s run off with her and tomorrow the whole town will be buzzing with gossip about it. How did you find out, Aunt Agnes?’
‘Carrie goes to the shops for me, listens to people talking, maidservants and the like. Know all about their betters they do, and not afraid to spread the muck either.’
Carrie looked apologetic. ‘Pumps me, she does, every time I go to the butcher’s or the baker’s, asks me to repeat every word I’ve heard and takes it all as gospel truth.’
Mary sighed. ‘Well, no matter now, soon everyone in town will know. It’s not the sort of thing that can be kept a secret.’ She was about to rise to her feet when Rhian spoke in a low voice.
‘Can’t trust anyone, not even our Billy. Men are all the same, evil.’ She looked at Heath. ‘You’re no different, though you’d like us all to think you are.’
She turned to face Carrie. ‘So you tell Auntie everything, do you? Have you told her about you and Heath going to bed together?’
A silence fell upon the occupants of the room and Mary stared round from face to face in bewilderment. Was this what had been worrying Rhian for the last few weeks?
Carrie broke the spell by moving quickly to the door. She picked up her shawl and without a word hurried out of the house.
‘Why don’t you go after her, Heath?’ Rhian said bitterly. ‘Go and give her your false promises of love, for I don’t want to hear them, do you understand?’
‘Rhian…’ Heath made a move towards her but she turned and fled up the stairs and he dropped his hands to his sides in despair.
‘She doesn’t realise how it is, Mary,’ he said defensively. ‘A man needs a woman, it’s only natural if one is willing that you take what is offered.’
Mary stared at her brother, seeing not his young face but the strong chin and jaw and the turquoise eyes of Brandon Sutton. Was this how he saw her, as merely a woman to fill his needs for the moment? With an effort she brought her attention back to the present.
‘Look, Heath, it might be just as well if you stay the night in the rooms above the Arcade. You can mind the place for me and give Rhian a chance to get over all this; it must have been a shock to her, you know.’
‘I know more than you think, Mary,’ he said bitterly.
She felt suddenly weary. ‘I’m going home, I’m tired, we’ll talk some more tomorrow. Good night, Auntie, and don’t worry too much, I’m sure Billy will be all right.’
The old woman nodded. ‘Aye, he’ll go to hell his own way and whatever I say or do won’t make a pennyworth of difference.’
‘Let me walk you home, Mary,’ Heath said, but she shook her head and kissed her brother’s cheek. ‘No, stay here,
boyo, look after Rhian and Auntie Agnes. It seems you’ll be the only man of the family from now on.’
Heath grimaced. ‘Not if Rhian remains so set against me. I love her, Mary, I really do in spite of everything.’
‘Well, that’s big of you,’ Mary replied tartly. ‘Considering you were found out, I don’t blame Rhian for not going into your arms like a falling flower.’
She gave Heath no chance to speak again, but hurried away along the dark street, wanting nothing more than to climb into her bed and sleep the clock around. She would forget everything for tonight, there was nothing more she could do. The story of Delmai Richardson and Billy Gray would ring through Sweyn’s Eye for a few weeks, but then it would die away and be forgotten. And she would still be alone, Mary thought with a touch of bitterness.
She let herself into her cottage and closed the door, throwing the bolt home and sighing with relief. It had been a strange strife-torn day and Mary felt weary and low in spirits, yet surfacing from the gloom of her thoughts was the satisfaction that she had done something practical to help Brandon. With that knowledge hugged to herself, she slipped between the sheets and fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter Thirty
The rain fell softly on Sweyn’s Eye, colouring the streets pearly grey, turning the waters of canal and river to pewter. The sea laved the shore with gentle attack, shifting shingle in ceaseless movement. Mary was dressed and ready to leave for the store, intent on checking the arrangements for the party that was to be held prior to the opening. She was dressed in a suit of deep plum with a hat to match, and even to herself she admitted that she was looking her best.
A loud knocking made her pause in the act of drawing on her gloves and she picked up her soft leather bag and opened the door, expecting to see the hansom cab she had ordered. However, a thin young man stared down at her, his smile self-effacing. It took Mary only a few minutes to recognise him as clerk to Gregory Irons.
‘Please will you come to the office at once.’ He stuttered slightly as though nervous and beneath his hat his hair hung damply on his forehead.
‘Come inside,’ Mary said. ‘I’m expecting a cab to arrive at any moment, we might as well travel in comfort. Now, what’s all this about?’
Tanner shook his head apologetically. ‘I really don’t know, Miss Jenkins, Mr Irons doesn’t confide in me.’ He did not meet her eyes and Mary began to feel uneasy. The young man knew more than he was telling her, but it was obvious he was not going to give anything away.
When the cab arrived she hurried out of the cottage, bending her face away from the rain as she climbed into the cold leather seat. The clerk sat gingerly beside her as though she might turn and bite him at any moment, Mary thought impatiently.
The streets were coming alive with traffic and Mary watched the milkman chivvy his horse as the animal ambled along the cobbled roadway, stopping outside the houses of the regular customers. As the cab paused to allow a tram to go by, Mary watched the dairyman measure the milk and tip it foaming into a jug. Then the cab was moving away, towards the main street where the offices of Gregory Irons were situated.
The lawyer was seated behind his desk, but he rose to greet Mary with a smile that she felt was intended to show sympathy.
‘What’s wrong, Mr Irons?’ she asked quickly. ‘I would prefer it if you would come straight to the point.’ He returned to his seat and with a wave of his hand indicated that Mary sit opposite him.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Jenkins. Bad news, I’m afraid. The banks have refused to allow a mortgage on the Arcade.’
‘But I don’t understand,’ Mary said, frowning. ‘Why should they refuse, when the property is worth far more than the mortgage I required?’
The lawyer put his fingertips together and examined them as though they were of great interest.
‘I cannot comment on that, and I do assure you that I have done my best for you.’ He looked up at her. ‘Unfortunately, this means that you will have to forego the shares in the Beaufort Works, but I’m sure that is no great hardship – it was only an extra means of income, was it not, and you are still financially sound.’ He looked down at a paper before him. ‘You could buy a small amount of shares with the cash coming in from your tenants – not the volume you wished for, but as a small speculation it would certainly be viable.’
Mary shook her head, trying to understand the solicitor’s words. ‘If I am sound, as you put it, why won’t the banks advance me the money?’
The lawyer shuffled the papers on his desk for a moment before answering. ‘All the principal members of the town have your best interests at heart, Miss Jenkins, and the consensus of opinion is that you would be jeopardising your business by taking this step.’
‘Surely that’s my prerogative?’ Mary asked at once and Gregory Irons smiled.
‘Not if the bankers of Sweyn’s Eye have any say in the matter. But let me put your mind at rest. There are other people, eminent people in the town who are only too willing to buy shares in the steelworks. One of them is a close, very close friend of yours and I shall not divulge any more information on that subject. But I want you to know that if your aim was to offer a helping hand to an ailing firm, then it will be done for you.’
Mary rose to her feet. She was still very angry, but mollified by the knowledge that Brandon would be out of trouble.
‘Is the prospective shareholder Sterling Richardson, by any chance?’ she asked and Gregory Irons inclined his head as though in acknowledgement though he didn’t speak.
‘Then I’ll bid you good morning,’ Mary said more cheerfully. ‘Thank you, Mr Irons.’ She let herself into the outer office where the clerk was bent industriously over his books. He glanced up as she passed and gave her a shy smile, leaping to his feet to hold open the door for her.
Mary found herself back in the busy street, her feelings mixed. What Gregory Irons had told her seemed a bit strange, but she acknowledged that she was a newcomer in the business world of Sweyn’s Eye and thus ignorant of a great many matters. But Brandon would be all right now even without her help, and she gave a sigh of relief as she hurried along the pavement towards the Arcade.
As she stepped through the glass doors into her own store, she stared around her with a sense of pride. Everything was poised as though waiting for the great day when the sales floors would be a hive of activity.
Nerys and Joanie were at work on the drapery counter and as Mary approached, both girls smiled at her in delight.
‘How are you settling into your new lodgings?’ Mary asked, peeling off her gloves. It had been a good idea to ask Carrie to give the girls a room in her house because she was sure to keep a check on them. Joanie giggled nervously and it was left to Nerys as always to answer.
‘It’s lovely, Carrie gives us much more freedom than old Mrs Greenaway ever did, but good girls we are, mind.’
‘I should hope so.’ Mary smiled and waved her hand around her. ‘And what do you think of my store – isn’t it magnificent?’ She felt buoyant, really alive as she anticipated the party that night to precede the opening the next day.
‘It’s a beautiful shop, Miss Jenkins, and I’m that thrilled to be in charge of my very own counter.’
‘Who are the new assistants, miss, and when will they be arriving?’ Joanie ventured to ask and Mary stared at her thoughtfully.
‘Well, Katie will be my second in command, as you know, and Muriel is coming to work here as soon as she can give in her notice at Ty Mawr. I’m hoping to persuade Rhian Gray to take a position in the shop too. It would save me finding lodgings for my staff if I can employ local people.’
Joanie giggled nervously and Mary looked at her sharply. ‘Have I said anything funny?’ The girl covered her mouth with her hand and with a sigh Nerys pushed her aside.
‘It’s all the gossip, miss. It’s running riot through all the servants’ quarters in all the big houses.’
‘What is?’ Mary asked, but she could hazard a guess at what the girls were
talking about.
‘Billy Gray, miss. I know he was your friend once, but gossip says he’s gone off with Mrs Delmai Richardson from one of them big houses up on the hill. You must have seen her, miss, sad face on her that would turn the milk sour.’
‘It’s all right, Nerys.’ Mary felt her elation ebb away. ‘I’m quite aware of the facts.’ Her tone forbade any more discussion and as she walked away, she saw Nerys begin to write prices for the bales of cloth on the shelves behind her.
In the lounging area of the shop, where customers could take tea at their leisure, the small tables were set with pristine damask cloths. Shining glasses stood ready for the evening’s festivities, which Mary expected most of the business people in town to attend. She knew that Mali and Sterling would be sure to come, and most certainly Mrs Asquith and the other tenants of the Arcade who would make the most of the occasion to advertise their own wares. Mary half-smiled as she thought of Alfred Phillpot; he had accepted her invitation, but she knew he would never forgive her for outsmarting him.
She moved into the office and stood looking around her, wondering with a sudden surge of fear if she would be able to cope with a big business. This was no van selling a few dozen shawls or a pair of boots here and there. The store would have a huge turnover in goods, and her customers would range from the poorest members of the town to the toffs from up on the hill.
Mary moved to the window and stared down at the streets, her hands gripped fiercely at her sides. She would make it work, she was determined on it. Some of the tension left her. Tonight was still a long way off and between now and then she had a great deal to do. She had promised to help at the soup kitchens again and the thought was enough to subdue her feeling of excitement.
For the trade situation was worsening, the strike had taken hold and the workers had become if anything more determined to fight the reduction in wages that was the aim of the bosses. Only Brandon Sutton among all the steel and tinplate owners seemed on the side of the men, and because of this he was gradually being frozen out, ostracised by the society of Sweyn’s Eye who thought it strange that a man would allow some of his profit to go to his workers.
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