‘And yet even in Emmeline’s undoubtedly liberated environment where both parents were advocates of equal suffrage, she was aware of a difference in how her brothers were treated compared to her and her sisters,’ Lady Russell’s ringing voice proclaimed. ‘The boys’ education, for example, was considered a much more serious matter by their parents. Emmeline realized that men considered themselves the superior sex and that the best of women, her own mother, apparently acquiesced to that belief. The young Emmeline found this very difficult to reconcile.’
As Lady Russell paused to take a sip of water from the glass at her elbow, Ruby was aware of a sudden flood of homesickness sweeping over her. Whether it was the memories of her own happy childhood she didn’t know, but she had to make a conscious effort to close her mind to thoughts of her mam and da. Her mam had chosen Olive. That’s what she had to remember, she told herself sternly. When push had come to shove, and in the face of a huge betrayal from her sister, their mam had sided with Olive.
She took a deep breath, willing the momentary weakness to pass as quickly as it had come. It was Ellie’s departure that had made her so up and down in the last little while, that was all. But she couldn’t dwell on that either, or how Daniel Bell might be treating her friend. It was too weakening. She just had to hope that Ellie would seek her out if anything was wrong.
She felt relief when Lady Russell began to speak again and she could concentrate on what the other woman was saying.
‘When Emmeline Goulden married Dr Pankhurst she knew she was marrying a man of like mind,’ Lady Russell declared firmly. ‘He was a man who had lent the weight of his honoured name to the suffrage movement before it became popular, and who believed that society, as well as the family, stands in need of women’s services. Their children would be treated equally in every respect, regardless of their sex.’
The crowd were hushed; even the woman in front of Ruby was quiet now. It was clear Lady Russell wanted to emphasize her next words as she moved to the very edge of the bandstand, bending slightly forward as she said, ‘To any unmarried girls here, I urge you to choose very carefully when you commit yourself to your life partner. Politicians and leaders will fight on for the suffrage movement, but I believe it is in the family home, from cradle until adulthood, where the greatest changes are required. The values that children learn from their parents are the ones that will change the world for good or ill. Make it for good, young women of Britain.’
Ruby felt as though the last words had pierced her through. She stared at the woman on the bandstand, a hundred and one emotions causing her head to whirl.
She knew she had been slowly changing in many ways since she had left Sunderland and come to Newcastle, but suddenly half-formed thoughts and feelings had crystallized into one solid, inescapable fact.
If she had married Adam, sooner or later she would have become unhappy and she would have made him unhappy too.
She stood quite still as Lady Russell concluded her talk, not moving through the storm of applause that followed, even to clap like everyone around her. Her mind was grappling with the knowledge that had been thrust upon her.
A large part of her didn’t want to acknowledge it was true, she realized, because to do so would effectively let Olive off the hook to some extent. And why should her sister get off scot-free when she had done her uppermost to wreck her life, and without a word of contrition? It wasn’t fair. But – and she couldn’t escape the fact – it was true all the same.
She shut her eyes for a moment but she couldn’t put the genie back in the bottle.
Her heart thudding violently, she opened her eyes again and stared blindly ahead. Because she had loved Adam she had wanted to be his wife from when she could remember, but she had always known they felt differently about lots of things. Adam was a product of his upbringing and set in his ways, even as a child. When she’d broached the matter of her continuing to work for Mrs Walton after they were wed and he had agreed, he’d also made it clear it was a concession on his part and she had been grateful for it. As far as Adam was concerned, men went out to work and brought home the money and their wives raised the bairns at home. Once she’d had their first child she would have been destined to remain as a housewife for the rest of her days. And she knew now that wouldn’t have been enough. Of necessity she had been forced to stand on her own two feet over the last two years and in so doing certain aspects of her personality had come into prominence. If she’d married Adam, she would still have developed in the same way, she realized that now, but the growth of the fledgling ideas and principles would have been slower to gain maturity. And he wouldn’t have agreed with her on some of the things that had become so vitally important.
The crowds were dispersing now but still Ruby stood where she was, feeling as though her world had been turned upside down yet again. What Olive had done was horrible and Adam’s betrayal had been devastating, but putting that aside, did the woman she was now feel the same about marriage to Adam as the girl of eighteen had felt?
The answer was stark and unequivocal and it rocked her to her core. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to come to terms with the truth, and when she opened them again it was to see a riderless horse and gig fast bearing down on a woman who had just left the steps of the bandstand and who had her head turned away from the danger as she conversed with someone behind her.
Ruby called out as she ran, and she just reached the woman whom she recognized was Clarissa Palmerston when the galloping horse was feet away. Without thinking she threw herself on the woman and sent the pair of them hurtling through the air, the lethal hooves of the frightened animal missing them by inches. It was all over in a moment and the whole incident had only taken a minute or two.
She must have banged her head because for a while she was in a kind of whirling vacuum where she could hear voices around her but was unable to respond. And then the darkness receded and she opened her eyes to find herself being cradled in the arms of Clarissa Palmerston who was kneeling at her side, saying, ‘She saved my life, she saved my life,’ over and over again.
‘Oh, my dear.’ As Clarissa became aware that Ruby was conscious, she looked on the verge of crying, but instead murmured, ‘That was the bravest thing, the very bravest thing. Are you all right, have you broken anything?’
‘I don’t think so.’ The words were shaky as they passed her lips. In truth she felt most odd.
‘Here.’ Someone pressed a glass of water to her lips and she took a sip, and then a few more. Her head was clearing and the feeling of dizzy nausea passing.
‘I landed on top of you, I’m afraid.’ Clarissa supported her into a sitting position, keeping her arms around her. ‘I just had no idea what was happening.’
To her great embarrassment, Ruby realized that Lady Russell and other dignitaries were in the circle of people peering down at her. She took another moment before she said quietly, ‘I’m feeling better, thank you. Could you help me up?’ to Clarissa, who immediately obliged but kept her arm round her waist once she was standing.
Looking into the distance she saw the horse and gig had come to a halt and that a man was holding the reins as another man, presumably the owner, came running over to them, saying, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. A couple of dogs nipped his heels and he took fright and the reins must have come untied. Is anyone hurt?’
It was Lady Russell who answered and she was very much the aristocrat as she said icily, ‘But for this young lady here, my friend would almost certainly be badly injured or worse. What were you thinking of, man?’
‘I can’t apologize enough.’
‘Just make sure that the animal is secure in the future.’
‘I will, I will.’ He looked contritely at Ruby. ‘We’d only just left him a minute before near the fountain with the other horse and traps while my wife and I had coffee with some friends at the park cafe. I couldn’t believe it when I saw him galloping off but it was those damn – sorry, those dogs that unnerved him.’
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‘Yes, yes.’ Lady Russell waved the poor man away, turning to Ruby and Clarissa as she said, ‘Ineffectual individual. Now, Clarissa, you came by car, I understand?’
Clarissa nodded. ‘And I’ll see to it that Miss . . .?’
‘Morgan. Ruby Morgan,’ Ruby said quickly.
‘Miss Morgan gets home safely.’
‘Oh, there’s no need. I’m perfectly well now.’ All Ruby wanted was to get away from the little group who had gathered around her. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life.
‘Nonsense.’ Clarissa smiled at her, a warm open smile, and her voice was softer than the somewhat acerbic tone of Lady Russell. Ruby had heard it said that Lady Astor, the feminists’ champion, had an abrasive manner but that this characteristic was an advantage when dealing with male MPs who were waiting for her to fall flat on her face, so perhaps all these warrior ladies who were at the forefront of the fight for progress were the same? She could appreciate it might be necessary but it was a little intimidating, nonetheless, whereas Clarissa Palmerston seemed more understanding and gentle. She returned Clarissa’s smile as she said, ‘I really don’t want to put you to any inconvenience, Mrs Palmerston.’
Clarissa’s smile widened. ‘Believe me, Miss Morgan, it would have been far more inconvenient to find myself under the hooves of that poor animal.’ Clarissa had kept her arm round Ruby’s waist and she now turned to Lady Russell, saying, ‘I’ll see you at Lord Rochdale’s dinner tonight, Lavinia,’ as she bent forward and touched the other woman’s cheek with her lips, before guiding Ruby away from the others. As they walked, she said, ‘I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before, Miss Morgan, but I cannot recollect . . .’
‘It was at a suffrage meeting in town some months ago.’
‘Ah, was that it? Yes, I remember the meeting. I made the mistake of getting poor Pearson to drive me in the Rolls, didn’t I. He did suffer at the hands of those children. I’ve promised him I’ll drive myself in one of the less ostentatious estate cars next time. I really thought the poor chairlady – Mrs Todd, isn’t it? – was going to have a fit of the vapours at his language.’ She cast a bright-eyed glance at Ruby as she added, ‘Being married to a brigadier I’ve heard it all and much worse, I’m afraid. I’ve even let the odd word slip myself, on occasion.’
Ruby felt herself relaxing. There was something about Clarissa Palmerston that was very engaging and despite her upper-class accent and top-drawer friends, she seemed, if not ordinary, then . . . Ruby couldn’t find a word that fitted and she gave up trying.
As they reached the Rolls-Royce where the said Pearson was waiting at attention with the door open for them, Clarissa asked, ‘Are you expected at home, Miss Morgan, or do you have time to come and have tea with me? The brigadier is away at the moment and I do so hate having tea by myself. Pearson will drop you home later.’
Ruby stared at the other woman, totally taken aback. She was well aware that ladies of Mrs Palmerston’s standing did not invite an assistant laundress from the workhouse home to tea. Mrs Palmerston was being kind because she had pushed her out of the way of the horse but it wouldn’t be fair to take advantage.
She stood by the magnificent car thinking how to word her refusal when Clarissa further disarmed her by saying, ‘Oh, please, do not say no, Ruby. May I call you Ruby? And you must call me Clarissa. Please come to tea. Look at it from my point of view. How many times in one’s lifetime does one have the opportunity to have tea with someone who’s just saved one’s life? It will just be us two and we can sit in the garden and talk properly. One cannot converse with all the activity going on here. I want to know all about you.’
‘There’s nothing to know.’
Clarissa drew her into the back seat of the car, which was enough to take Ruby’s breath away. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined herself sitting in the back of a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce. Cars of any kind were still mainly the playthings of the upper and middle classes, although now there were more Baby Austins and Morris Minors in the town to rival the ‘Tin Lizzie’, the Ford Model T. The only people Ruby knew who owned a car were the senior doctor at the workhouse and Mr Henderson, the master, and they both had one of the Fords. She’d read in the newspaper that down south traffic jams in the city of London were becoming a problem with the roads clogged by taxis and the new motor buses, but as yet Newcastle had no such difficulties.
‘Now,’ Clarissa continued once Pearson had shut the door and taken his seat in the front of the car, ‘what made you come to hear Lavinia today?’
That was easy. As the car started, Ruby tried to relax again. ‘I have a week’s holiday from my place of employment and thought it was a good opportunity to hear Lady Russell speak.’ The car was moving now and Ruby found it much more disconcerting than riding in a tram or on the train.
‘Oh, you work?’ This was said not in a patronizing way but with keen interest.
Ruby nodded. Her head was aching, no doubt from the bump she’d received when she fell, and the car seemed very low down and unprotected compared to a tram. ‘I’m an assistant laundress at the workhouse,’ she said quietly. No good dressing it up.
‘And you live at home with your parents?’
‘Not exactly.’ Ruby stifled a sigh. She had a feeling that Clarissa Palmerston, as well bred and ladylike as she was, was a person who, as her mam would have put it, made it her business to know the ins and outs of old Maggie’s backside. Resigned now to her fate, she said flatly, ‘I came to Newcastle two years ago following a broken engagement. My family’s in Sunderland.’
‘I see.’ Clarissa didn’t see at all but she was determined she would by the end of the afternoon. This beautifully dressed girl with the lovely face intrigued her. There was lots about her that didn’t add up somehow. Her clothes were exquisite and clearly expensive for one thing; until she spoke one would imagine she came from the top end of society, but there again, although she had the northern burr in her voice it was soft and muted and her enunciation was perfect. But overall there was a sadness about her, not that she appeared dejected or downcast but more as though she had known heartache or grief. Of course, a broken engagement wasn’t a pleasant thing for anyone to go through.
Decision made that she would wheedle out all that there was to know about Ruby Morgan, Clarissa settled back in the seat and deliberately moved the conversation to the meeting and Lady Russell, speaking lightly and humorously. She had plenty of time for her questions and the girl was looking rather pale and wan; she’d feel better after some refreshments.
The car was fairly flying along now as far as Ruby was concerned but after the initial apprehension she found she was enjoying the experience. She had read in the newspapers how most country people hated the cars and motorcycles that dashed at twenty miles per hour through narrow lanes bringing noise, fumes and danger; previously isolated villagers dreading the invasion of picnickers on summer Sundays with the attendant horrors of empty bottles and waste paper. There had been stories about ordinary working folk encouraging their children to throw stones at the passing gentry in their vehicles or to scatter nails and broken glass on the roads, and she had had sympathy with them, but now she had to admit riding in a motor car was thrilling. Some ex-servicemen had bought motorcycles with sidecars with their demobilization grants, and there were often a number of these to be seen parked in terraced streets, but now she realized that the luxury of riding in a motor car was something else entirely. How the other half lived.
It hardly took any time at all to reach the outskirts of the town, and then they were travelling along country roads. Clarissa kept up an easy chatter and Ruby found she only had to respond with the occasional answer, which was just as well. In truth she was feeling quite overwhelmed by all that had occurred in the last hour and by the situation in which she now found herself.
They passed one or two farms, pale shimmering fields of freshly mown hay making mosaics against grain fields mellowing to the bronze of harvest and fiel
ds where sheep and cattle grazed contentedly in the late-afternoon sun, and drove through several little hamlets dozing in the sunshine. Thatched cottages with gardens bursting with flowers, children playing on a village green, hens clucking as Pearson sounded his horn to send them scurrying off the road and dogs barking at the strange and noisy apparition invading their domain. It was a different world to the town. Ruby had thought she was adventurous moving from Sunderland to Newcastle, but now it dawned on her that within a few miles of the towns lay a different England, one with so much open space it was incredible.
How long it was before the Rolls drove between massive open iron gates Ruby wasn’t sure; she was feeling so befuddled it could have been minutes or hours. The car scrunched onto a gravel drive that could easily accommodate several cars abreast, and this was bordered on both sides by ornamental privet hedges that were low enough to display the beautifully kept gardens beyond. These were a panorama of green lawns, bright flower beds and sculptured trees, but it was the enormous grey stone house in the distance that drew the eye. It was three-storey, its two large wings curving round a huge forecourt. Ruby gaped – she couldn’t help it – and then snapped her lips shut, hoping Clarissa hadn’t noticed.
The Rolls stopped in front of semicircular steps leading to a stone terrace and the entrance to the house, and as Pearson came round and opened Clarissa’s door, she turned to Ruby with a beaming smile.
‘Here we are,’ she said as casually as if they hadn’t just arrived at a residence that in Ruby’s fevered mind resembled the pictures she had seen of Buckingham Palace. ‘Let’s have tea.’
Chapter Nine
It was two hours later. Ruby had had tea with Clarissa, sitting on a decorative terrace at the rear of the house that overlooked the gardens and a lake in the distance, and then her new friend – as Clarissa herself insisted she was – had escorted her round most of the vast establishment arm in arm, pointing out this and that as though she was a curator at a museum. Ruby by this time felt so comfortable with Clarissa that she had said exactly that, to which Clarissa had answered, ‘But most certainly. Godfrey, my husband, was born in one of the rooms upstairs, as was his father and his father before him, but even he feels he’s merely a glorified caretaker here. I mean, the house demands our service and we’re obliged to give it, but truthfully it’s never felt like home to me. It’s beautiful but I much prefer our London residence. My childhood home in Sevenoaks is half the size of Foreburn and much more cosy.’
One Snowy Night Page 11