by Emma Hornby
‘Oh. Aye.’ Cook appeared a little disappointed, then her face creased in a smile. ‘Anyroad, you’ll see her through all right. If anyone can, it’s thee, for I don’t mind saying no one else has the answers nor the knowledge that you seem to have.’ Her smile grew. ‘Aye, yes. Will do the poor love good to dine with the rest for once. There’s fresh flowers on t’ table, an’ all; they’ll cheer her mood no end.’
Pip nodded agreement, but her own mood had dipped somewhat. She just prayed Mr Philip and that wife of his didn’t upset her. Knowing them, they would be on her the minute she entered, demanding she rethink her decision, and what would that do for her?
I don’t lie. I do know what I’m about with this illness, have endured it all before, she said to herself, wishing she could speak it out loud to the naysayers who seemed to hate her, that she could make them believe. She’d never think of conning anyone, she wouldn’t, let alone Miss Josephine. She just wanted to help. Why couldn’t their vicious minds allow them to see that?
Should she tell Cook her concerns, tell her what had transpired? After a moment’s deliberation, she shook her head. The woman had standing in this household and she knew it – whether upstairs or down, she didn’t seem to care who you were. Outspoken as she was, she’d likely give Caroline a tongue-lashing as she had with Hardman, or complain about her behaviour to the master, and that would surely make matters worse for Pip. No, better she rode this out as long as she could.
Happen the waspish lady would come around, she tried to tell herself hopefully. She’d raised no objections to her and Lucy sharing company, had she? Just maybe …? But deep down, Pip knew it was unlikely. She’d probably only agreed to the play time to please her daughter, was perhaps already busy concocting something to ensure the opportunity never arose again. Sadness brought an ache to Pip’s chest. Why, just as things were looking up, must something or someone always have to come along and spoil it? It just wasn’t fair, it wasn’t.
A sudden deafening crash behind her chased all thoughts from her mind and she jumped several inches from her seat. She whirled around – and her mouth ran dry to see Mr Philip storming through the door and making straight towards her, face as dark as thunder. Dear God! What in the world—?
‘You! You callous young gutter-monkey!’
‘’Ere, now! What’s all this, what’s all this?’ Cook was on her feet in a flash but he pointed a quivering finger in her face.
‘Oh no. No, you don’t. Not this time shall you call the shots, not with this. My father is furious with this scheming chancer, too. You shan’t twirl him around your finger this time.’ He turned blazing eyes back to Pip, who shrank away, terrified and confused in equal measure. What was wrong with the gentleman – his father, too? What had she done?
‘Sir, please! I don’t know what—’
‘Save your lies. Now, up. Move yourself!’ he bellowed, sending Tabby skittering back to the scullery in fear and Cook shouting out in anger. He ignored them both. Lips twisting, he took a firm grip of Pip’s shoulder.
She whimpered as he hauled her to her feet. Philip made to manhandle her to the door and she scrambled for the woman’s arm, crying, ‘Cook! Help me, please! I’ve done nowt, nowt!’
Belying her bulky frame, the servant rushed forward and blocked his path before he knew what she was about. Fists on hips, breathing heavily, she thrust out her chin. ‘Now I’m for asking you again, lad, and this time, you’ll give me an answer. What’s all this? You taken leave of your senses altogether? What’s the young love here meant to have done?’
‘This has nothing to do with you, nothing at all. I’ll thank you to remember your place and mind your own—’
‘Mind my eye! She and the lads along with her are under my watch. I’ve every right. Yon master will attest to that, an’ all.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Aye!’
Philip leaned in close to the cook, eyes spitting steel. ‘Yon master, as you call him,’ he ground out mockingly, ‘wants this devilish piece from this house as much as I – forthwith.’
Heavy silence filled the air between them. Finally, Cook shook her head. ‘You lie.’
‘What have I done?’ Pip twisted her body, still held vice-like in Philip’s grip, to stare up at him. Her voice was thick with terror and tears. ‘Please, sir, tell me, for I know not what! Oh,’ she blurted suddenly as a possible reason occurred to her. ‘Is it about Miss Josephine’s decision to stop the doctor’s visits, ’cause sir, that were her choice entirely and—!’
‘What? What’s this?’ he cut in angrily; her heart and stomach dropped.
That wasn’t it …? Then what? her jumbled mind screamed. What?
He threw her a contemptuous look then turned it on Cook. ‘I’ll tell you what she’s done, shall I? Earlier, against her better judgement and out of the goodness of her heart, my wife allowed this one, here,’ he shook Pip like a dog with a rat between its teeth, ‘to play with Lucy. And how did she repay Caroline’s kindness? She assaulted my daughter. Pulled her hair, nipped her young skin and struck her on the arm, while Josephine had her back turned, with threats of further violence to come should Lucy tell.’
A whooshing noise had filled Pip’s ears. Mouth gaping, she could only gaze in sheer horror at this man spouting these incredible words. This wasn’t real. She was dreaming. She had to be!
Cook swivelled her eyes towards her slowly. Her fleshy face was a sickly shade of grey. ‘Lass?’ Her voice was a rasp. ‘What says you to this?’
‘It’s lies. Lies! I’d never harm Miss Lucy, never never ever! Ask her, the young miss herself. She’ll tell you I’m innocent of this. I love her, I do, would never …’ With a cry, Pip burst into noisy tears; she couldn’t contain them, for she hadn’t a single clue why this was happening. She felt sick with horror. That they could think this!
Caroline. She was behind this vicious witch hunt. Hadn’t she sworn to be rid of them by the week’s end? Hadn’t she said that Cook wasn’t the only one who could wrap the master around her finger? This was her doing. Her allowing them to play together earlier … Caroline had planned this! Oh, but what was she to do? And the master believed his daughter-in-law’s lies, wanted her gone from here. She couldn’t bear this, she couldn’t bear this!
‘Come with me.’
He pulled her to the door; craning her neck, she gazed desperately to the back one. ‘Simon! Simon!’ she cried, but of course he couldn’t hear her and the next moment, she was half dragged up the staircase in a tiptoed trot.
Philip threw open the door to the master’s room and pushed her inside ahead of him. She stumbled to a halt in the centre with a whimper. Then Cook, huffing and puffing, was at her side. Philip swung the door shut, sending the noise rattling through the house.
Pip lifted her head. The first person she saw was Caroline, stiff-faced by the window, Finch hovering nearby. Her heart thumped painfully. You’ve done this, you! she wanted to scream to the lady. She glanced to the bed and the stern expression on the old man’s face brought fresh tears to her eyes and pain to her guts. Burying the fingertips of both hands in her mouth, she bit down on them, shaking uncontrollably. He was looking at her in deep disappointment, maybe slight disgust. It’s all lies, sir! she implored him silently. Then someone else caught her attention, seated at the foot of the bed, and her breath caught noisily in her throat. Slowly her arms fell to her sides. ‘Oh, Miss Lucy …’
The girl, her back to her, dipped her dark head further to her chest with a muffled sob. Her upset was tangible and despite her own devastation and fear, Pip longed to comfort her. Lucy must surely be as confused as she, for both knew Pip hadn’t done any of the nasty things they were saying she had, wouldn’t dream of it. ‘Miss Lucy … I don’t understand—’
‘Silence.’ Despite his obvious anger, Albert cut her off quietly. ‘Now, Pip. I trust you know why you’re here?’
‘Sir, I—’
‘What has been brought to my attention …’ His voice dr
opped. ‘How dare you.’
‘Nay, sir, please—!’
‘I put my trust in you and you’ve stamped it into the dirt beneath your heel. What you have done today to my dear granddaughter seated there is wicked beyond words.’ He shook his head almost sadly. ‘I provided a roof, food, clothing … I put my trust in you. You’ve let me down. More so, you’ve let Mabel, here, down.’
‘All right, lass.’ Cook held Pip back from further protest with a hand on her shoulder. She stepped forward. ‘From what tongue has this accusation sprung, Albert?’
‘Now, Mabel. I know you’ve grown fond of the girl—’
‘Aye, the lads also.’
‘But the fact remains you’ve been poor in your judgement. That girl has molested my granddaughter and is fortunate I’m not bringing an assault charge upon her head. She leaves, today.’
Cook delivered her response calmly. ‘I asked who’s said these things.’
Pip’s eyes immediately swivelled to Caroline. However, the name that fell from Albert’s lips brought shock so acute, she staggered. Had she really heard right? She shook her head slowly.
‘That’s right. It was Lucy herself,’ he repeated. ‘I for one know that my granddaughter would not invent such lies. Every person here present knows it, too. Including you, Mabel. Am I right?’
Cook stood rigid, face bone-white. Then: ‘Miss Lucy?’ She addressed the back of the girl’s head. ‘Is this true? Pip did these things to thee?’
‘Yes.’
The answer swirled like smoke on the air to clog Pip’s lungs; she couldn’t breathe. ‘Nay. Why, Miss Lucy? Why!’
‘This has gone on long enough.’ Philip strode forward and took hold of her arm. ‘Come along with you. Out.’
‘Sir, please listen to me.’ Where Pip found her courage, she didn’t know; yanking herself free, she dropped to her knees by Albert’s bedside and clasped her hands to her chest. ‘I love Miss Lucy as a sister. As God is my witness, I’d never harm a hair on her head, not for nowt on this earth. You must believe me. Please.’
‘The child has just confirmed your crime from her own lips!’
‘And I’ve norra single clue why, honest I ain’t, for I’m innocent!’ Swinging her head, Pip beseeched the girl’s back. ‘Please, Miss Lucy. Tell them I’m guilty of no wrongdoing. We played nice, is all. We had fun, and we laughed and enjoyed ourselfs. I did nowt, never would. I’d never harm thee! Please!’ Lucy’s only response was muffled weeping. Pip turned desperate eyes to the servant, still standing statue-like in shock beside her. ‘Cook, you believe me. Don’t you?’
‘I …’ Her doubt was clear to all.
Pip experienced a pain deep in her breast the like of which she’d never known before. She gasped as though winded. ‘Nay, not thee …’
‘Miss Lucy, she said herself …’ Cook’s creased eyes were bright. ‘Why did you hurt the young angel so?’
Pip rose on jerky limbs. Then she flew across the room and out of the door.
Tears blinded her as she careered down the stairs and through the hall. Her mind was numb, heart frozen. When a hand touched her shoulder, she barely registered it.
‘I warned thee. Didn’t I say she were a vicious bitch?’
Pip turned blank eyes to Hardman. She nodded.
‘She’s the one put Miss Lucy up to this, I’ll be bound.’
The truth left her cold. Again, Pip nodded.
‘Caroline Goldthorpe needs getting rid of. For good and proper.’
Of its own accord, her head moved in agreement once more.
‘Then you’d be free to return. We’d all be free.’ The housemaid’s tone dropped to a hard murmur. ‘You want that, aye?’
‘Aye.’
Hardman’s mouth curved in a mirthless smile. ‘Meet me the morrow. Three o’clock by London Road Station.’ She turned and walked away.
Empty of thought and reason, Pip did likewise, disappearing from Bracken House through the front door and running full pelt down the street.
Chapter 11
HOW LONG SHE’D been curled up in the privy, Pip couldn’t say. Its familiarity was oddly comforting. Tightening into a ball, she buried her head in her arms.
Her dazed mind had been incapable of rational thought and on instinct alone, her feet had carried her to the only place she knew: the slums of Ancoats. She couldn’t even recall the journey, yet here she was. Back in the darkness and fear and suffocating hopelessness of the place. Back where she’d begun. She’d never felt so utterly miserable.
Night-time noises drifted from the street beyond the broken door: slurred shouts and singing, laughter and curses of drinkers homeward bound, swirling with the dizzying thoughts filling her head until her brain was exhausted. Worst was the pain in her heart and her guts, which had increased steadily with the hours. Simon, Mack. She’d left them behind.
So lost had she been in the numbing grief, she hadn’t thought to seek them out, explain the situation. Without a moment’s pause or thought she’d sprinted from the house, from the agonising truth that all believed her a demon capable of such wickedness and wanted her gone. And however much she regretted it, she also knew a tinge of gladness. For the lads just might be permitted to stay on at Bracken House – after all, she was the monster in the household’s eyes, wasn’t she? The boys were guilty of no wrongdoing. And they deserved to remain, to continue the new life they had found, to be healthy, clean, safe. If she’d pelted to the garden and poured out the incident to them, they would have been at her side in a heartbeat and she’d have hated herself for it afterwards, because they didn’t deserve to be cast out.
But neither did I, her inner voice said, and she squeezed her eyes shut to block out the images returning to play behind them, mocking her with their cruelty. She saw again Caroline’s stony face and glinting eyes as she watched the proceedings. Oh, but she hated her, hated her! And Philip’s anger, the words he’d spewed, the names he’d called her. Was he in on the act or had his wife hoodwinked him, too, into believing the horrid tale? she wondered. She shrugged. It mattered not, now, did it? One thing was clear – Philip did take after his father in at least one respect: he harboured for his offspring a deep and fierce love. How she wished she had her father to care for and protect her, as Lucy did. But he was gone from this world.
Speaking of Miss Lucy … Hunched over as though in physical pain, her distress, her voice as she’d uttered the one word that had torn Pip’s heart in two: ‘Yes.’ And her own mother was behind the act, had forced her child to speak it, to be rid of Pip, to ruin her life. Why, why? Just what had she done to deserve such vitriol?
The master’s anger and disappointment flitted back and cut just as deep this time around. Yet it was the memory of Cook’s expression, the uncertainty that had taken root in her grey eyes at Lucy’s admission, that seared far more. For Pip had begun to look upon the large and formidable being almost as a mother figure. She felt betrayed, let down, heartbroken that the saviour she’d come to love had turned on her. For nothing. I’ve done nothing!
And Miss Josephine. Oh, but she must be beside herself. How would she cope? Would she hate Pip for deserting her in her time of need? And she’d promised to aid the lady, too. She’d vowed to see her through her illness, to help her combat it. And now, Josephine would grow more agitated at the prospect of fighting this alone again, would get worse and all would be lost with Mr Sutton-Shaw, and her future would be ruined. Oh why, why? Pip asked herself of Caroline again, tears burning.
But Simon and young Mack, the thought of never seeing them again … the pain of that overrode all else and now her anguish burst forth. The crying awakened her pain-shocked brain. Great gushing sobs tore from her, making her splutter for breath. Lads, lads. I miss thee, need thee …
‘Nay, mister. Please, mister!’
The small scared voice sounded mere feet away from Pip’s hiding place; gulping down her emotion, she listened harder. After some moments, the child – for that’s clearly what it was �
�� spoke again:
‘Nay. Nay, please. I don’t want to!’
Frowning, Pip shuffled towards the door and squinted through one of the numerous holes. At first, the dark street appeared deserted. Then a tall figure flitted in the pool of murky gaslight close by and she held her breath. The silhouette shifted into view but though it was facing her and but a short distance away, the dim light failed to pick out its facial features clearly; though it was quite obvious it was a man – a gentleman at that. His tall hat and the trim cut of his cloth proved this, as did the shiny cane he carried under his arm, its tip winking gold in the lamp’s glow. He glanced up and down the street and, satisfied no one was approaching, returned his attention to whatever business he’d been about.
‘Mister, I don’t like it.’
Pip’s heartbeat quickened at the fright in the youngster’s voice – the youngster in this gentleman’s company, she realised, peering through the gap between his legs and spotting two small boots that stood facing his own. He seemed to have the child wedged against a wall, in a nook between two warehouses.
‘Come, now. Dry your tears. Don’t you want the shillings I promised you?’
The banging in her chest sped to a gallop. She recognised that smooth, refined voice only too well. The man who had attempted to lure away Mack a short time ago.
God above, but he was trying it with another! And from the sound of this one’s distress, he was doing what Simon had said he would: he was hurting the poor mite, or soon would. She couldn’t sit here and allow it to happen, she couldn’t, despite her fear. And afraid she was, for this man was dangerous and violent to boot, had proven it with his cane that day across Simon’s back. She must intervene, no matter the outcome. She’d never forgive herself otherwise.
Slowly, slowly, she eased open the door and edged outside. Keeping to the shadows, she stole closer.
‘Oh, nay. What are you …? Oh, you mustn’t, mister!’
Sounds of a struggle could be heard, then: ‘Cease this nonsense!’ the gentleman snarled, his patience gone. ‘You, boy, will do my bidding or feel my wrath. Do you understand? Quiet!’ he added when the child began to weep softly, the sound muffled as though the man had a hand over his mouth. ‘Or so help me, you’ll regret it.’