The Orphans of Ardwick

by Emma Hornby

  ‘Happen we’ll be out of it at the new house by then, if it should occur, anyroad,’ she answered hopefully. For unlike Simon, she wasn’t convinced that matters would pan out as cleanly as he predicted. Hardman didn’t seem one to take rejection on the chin and disappear, as Philip’s other ‘problem’ had. She’d kick up merry hell, turn the household on its head, so long as she got what she wanted. And what was she expecting from the master’s son? He was married already, wasn’t he? Sudden clarity had her nodding slowly with grim realisation. If he was widowed, however …

  Dear God, was that her plan? Was she truly capable of going so far as to get shot of his wife to have him for herself? And yet, despite the terrible notion, it was the housemaid’s safety that overrode Pip’s thoughts more than that of Mrs Goldthorpe. For from what she’d proven, Pip believed at least, the fine lady was capable of worse evil-doing than the besotted servant, should she so choose. Just how would she react if she discovered her husband had been messing with another woman – a lowly breed of class to boot, which she seemed to hold in utter contempt – right under her nose? She daren’t imagine. As she’d said to Simon, she just hoped she and the lads were out of it should such a thing occur.

  A little later, Pip climbed reluctantly from the bed and whispering Simon goodnight, headed back to her own at the opposite end of the house. As much as she’d have liked to stay, her duties beckoned. Josephine might waken and need her; understandably, the woman wouldn’t be best pleased to find her absent.

  Upon reaching her own dark and deserted landing, Pip was certain she caught a faint whiff of Caroline’s perfume. The atmosphere seemed to thicken; the hairs on her arms stood to attention. Glancing about, she bit her lip with a frightened frown.

  Suddenly, at the far end of the space, illuminated in the moonlight from the high window by the stairs, she thought she saw a shadow shift. The very air stood still.

  Whirring around, heart thumping, she hurried for the sanctuary of Josephine’s room.

  Chapter 15

  ‘DEAD? GOODNESS! BUT how?’

  ‘Heaven alone knows, love. Seems she took a tumble on the stairs around dawn. Mr Philip discovered her an hour or two since.’

  ‘Oh my, how dreadful,’ cried Josephine then turned sharply as Pip, who had been enjoying the last few minutes in bed before the day’s work began and, overhearing snippets of the speech in the adjoining room, careered inside, wild-eyed with horror. ‘Oh, Pip … I’m afraid Mabel here has dreadful news—’

  ‘I, I heard, Miss Josephine.’ Pip had to grip her hands together behind her back to control their violent shaking. How could this be? Dear God … She’d gone and done it, now. Oh, Hardman, why, why; it’s the gallows, now, for certain. Terrible, terrible …!

  ‘You all right, lass?’ Cook laid a hand on Pip’s shoulder. ‘Eeh, such a thing to take in for one so young … Now, you mustn’t fret, for I’m here. That’s it, now,’ she added, cooing softly, as Pip flung herself into her comforting embrace.

  ‘Oh, Cook … this is awful!’ A memory from last night, the smell of expensive scent and a shifting figure on the landing out there … Just what had Caroline been doing loitering around in the dark at that hour, anyway? When had Hardman stolen upon her and how? Had they crossed words and the housemaid lost her temper, saw it as the perfect opportunity, while the unsuspecting household were abed, to put her heinous plan into action?

  Oh, she couldn’t think on it, she couldn’t. And oh – oh, poor Miss Lucy! She was now motherless, just like herself. For all of Caroline’s faults, the child didn’t deserve the anguish her loss must have brought to her … And Pip could have made sure this was avoided had she confided her concerns to someone. She’d known what Hardman was planning and she’d done nothing. This was too much, too much!

  ‘I want to see the lads,’ she choked on a whimper. ‘Please, I … need to be with them.’

  ‘Course you do, aye. Come, I’ll see thee down to the kitchen. Don’t fret,’ she added quickly, seeing the pain that had appeared in Pip’s eyes, ‘you’ll not be met with no ungodly sight on the way – the body ain’t present. It were removed a short while since. Come on, now. I’ve got thee.’ Supporting her, she walked her to the door.

  ‘Why did no one waken me sooner?’ asked Josephine when they were outside. Eyes turning to the stairs, she shuddered.

  ‘Your father thought it best to spare thee the strain to your nerves, least till she’d been taken away, like.’

  Pip agreed this had been a wise move on her master’s part. Her mistress was wringing her hands furiously and her eyes looked huge in her ashen face. Had she witnessed the full horror, the lady would have been beside herself.

  ‘I still don’t understand how this could have happened, what—?’

  ‘Don’t take on so, lovey,’ the cook cut in gently. ‘As I stated, Albert sent me to fetch you, so you hurry along, now. Happen he can answer thee better. An inspector fella’s just left him. Surely he’d have had summat to tell your father. Go on, go on. I’ll be with youse once I’ve seen the lass here downstairs.’

  Despite her own distress, Pip sought to calm Josephine, sensing an attack of panic wasn’t far away. ‘Listen to Cook, Miss Josephine. Deep breaths. Just send for me should you need me and I’ll be there right away.’

  ‘Yes … Thank you, dear girl.’ Gulping in air, the lady nodded, turned and hurried for the master’s room.

  Dragging in steadying breaths herself, Pip followed Cook across the landing. Unsure what she expected to find, when they reached the top of the stairs she had to force her stare downwards. To her relief, there didn’t appear to be any visible trace of death; no blood that she could see, no horror. All looked as it should. Cook or Tabby must have cleaned the area; the realisation brought a small frown to her brow. Did the police usually collect all the evidence they needed from a crime scene – because that’s what this was – so quickly? Well, they must, she told herself. What did she know about such matters, anyway?

  Entering the kitchen, she saw the scullery maid and Simon seated at the table, hands wrapped around cups of tea, expressions subdued. Beside them, Mack was nibbling on a slice of bacon. He left his chair to sidle up to Pip.

  ‘I’ll be back shortly,’ promised Cook, exiting the room again.

  ‘All right, lad?’ Pip asked the youngster, pulling him close.

  He nodded solemnly. ‘Policeman came, Pip.’

  ‘Aye.’ She looked to Simon, who motioned to a chair, and guided Mack back across. Sitting opposite the others, she rested her head in her hand and heaved a sigh. ‘I can barely believe it,’ she whispered.

  Tabby and Simon nodded, the former saying in a hushed tone, ‘Police might want to talk to you, later, when they return.’

  The moisture left Pip’s mouth. She had to swallow several times before she could utter, ‘Me?’

  ‘And Miss Josephine, of course. Youse are the only two they ain’t spoke to yet. Us lot have already told them what we know – not that there was owt, mind, us being asleep and snoring in our beds when it occurred. Don’t worry, it’s just what they must do, they said. Everyone present in the household has to be accounted for at the time of the death, is all. They’re only doing their job. They’ll not be expecting you to tell them owt they don’t know already, nay. Waste of time, lass, I know, but there you go.’

  God above, she couldn’t breathe … Should she tell them what she knew, what Hardman had been planning, or keep her silence? The housemaid would swing and she might just as well have put the noose around her neck with her own two hands … But what then if she withheld the truth and they saw through her lies, assumed she was in on it, sent her to the gallows along with the guilty party? Lord, she couldn’t bear this …

  On jerky legs, she rose from her seat, crossed to the back door and flung it open. A sharp wind greeted her and she sucked it in gratefully.

  ‘Aye, you catch a few lungfuls, lass,’ Tabby told her. ‘It’s a shock, all this, I know. I scarcely believed
it when I heard. Now I know she were a divil at times, but still … well, it’s a fair terrible way to leave this earth, aye.’

  Oh truly, truly … ‘How’s Miss Lucy bearing up?’ she managed to ask, without turning, after some moments.

  ‘Miss Lucy?’ This from Simon. ‘We ain’t seen her the day. Happen she ain’t aware as yet.’

  ‘And … Mr Philip?’

  ‘It’s mebbe affected him, aye. Mind, he ain’t likely to show it, is he?’ offered Tabby. ‘You all right, lass?’ she added, frowning, at Pip’s disbelieving shake of her head. ‘You’re a shocking colour. No offence, like, but I didn’t think there’d be much love lost betwixt youse. You and Hardman were hardly the best of friends, were you, if truth be told?’

  ‘What? Hardman? Hardman’s … dead?’

  The scullery maid and Simon exchanged a look. ‘Come and sit down,’ he said, as Tabby reached for the teapot and filled a cup for Pip. ‘Seems the shock’s gone to your head.’

  She plopped back into her chair, stupefied. She’d believed, simply assumed … and all the time … ‘How can this be?’ she whispered to no one in particular.

  ‘Seems she tripped somehow at the start of her duties this morning, on her way to light the family’s fires afore they wakened. Her box of blacklead and brushes were found strewn around her at the foot of the stairs. She injured her head in the fall – police reckon she’d not have suffered. It were just a terrible accident, lass.’

  Nay, it wasn’t! Pip’s mind screamed. Again, the vision of what she just knew had been Caroline lurking around at the ungodly hour last night crashed through her thoughts. Why else unless with devilment in mind? Had she discovered her husband’s tryst with the maid? Happen she’d followed or gone in search of him, maybe heard the same as Simon had? Or maybe she had been the one who had disturbed the squeaky floorboard yesterday outside Josephine’s room? Caroline had heard everything – Hardman’s plans to be shot of her. She’d struck first before the maid had a chance …

  If that’s the case, will she come after me next? After all, I know too much, don’t I? Pip asked herself, weak at the prospect. I were privy to Hardman’s scheme, am involved in this whether I want to be or otherwise. Icy fear ran the length of her spine. What was she to do? Was she merely overthinking this whole horrible mess?

  The answer came immediately with sickly truth. She knew that woman was behind this. Hardman just happening to take a tumble on the stairs she trod scores of times every single day? No. It was too incredible a coincidence to be true. She’d lain in wait for her while the house was slumbering, must have, and pushed her down the stairs. And she’d got away with it, by all accounts, given what the police were surmising.

  She must speak to someone about this. She couldn’t keep it all to herself any longer. Her gaze swivelled immediately to Simon. He was the only one she could turn to, could trust unquestioningly to see her side of things.

  ‘Come with me, get some fresh air. It’ll do you good.’ Simon spoke before Pip had the chance to. She sighed in relief.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Bread— Mack, I mean,’ he added, rolling his eyes and muttering how he’d never get used to the name change, ‘you stop here with Tabby. We’ll not be long.’

  Wrapping her new shawl around herself and knotting the ends together tightly against the winter cold, Pip shadowed the older boy. They were silent until they reached the metal gate to the Green, where Simon produced a key from his pocket, unlocked it and slipped through. Pip followed. They halted by the poplar tree where they had spent part of their first night here.

  ‘Me and Cook have been talking on it … We reckon it’s better you bend the truth to the police.’

  Her breath caught in her throat. Had he guessed? ‘Bend the truth about what?’

  ‘About you visiting mine and Mack’s room last night. Now we know, and you know, there’s nowt in it. But well, happen the police would up their questioning, believing you might know summat about the murder, were they to hear you’d been skulking about the house just a short while afore it occurred, like. We just reckon it’s the best thing all round not to say owt—’

  ‘Oh!’

  He blinked at her in confusion. ‘What?’

  ‘You said … murder. You know? You know it weren’t an accident?’

  His lips tightened. ‘I’m convinced it weren’t. Mind, I didn’t voice it to the police – what would be the point? They’d not consider for a second my word over one of their kind, would they? I’d gain nowt but eviction from the house for my troubles, and what good would that do me, any of us?’

  A wave of relief coursed through her; she had an ally, at last. Someone else who knew, who she could confide in. For carrying this crippling burden alone was threatening to crush her. ‘Oh, lad. I knew too, knew she was behind this the moment I realised—’

  ‘She?’

  It was Pip’s turn to blink. ‘Aye. Mrs Goldthorpe.’

  ‘Mrs Goldthorpe? Mr, don’t you mean.’

  ‘Simon, I don’t … You believe Mr Philip is behind Hardman’s death?’

  ‘Well, of course he is. That bastard is as slippery as they come; he’s gotten shot of her, all right. Happen she were threatening to blow the truth about their goings-on? I don’t know. But I’m certain it were him, aye yes.’

  Despite his conviction – and if she was honest, the possibility of there being good enough cause for it – Pip knew instantly he was mistaken. ‘Lad, it’s his wife what’s guilty of this crime, not he, I’m sure of it,’ she murmured after glancing about. ‘Oh, the things I’ve not told thee, told anyone … You wouldn’t believe.’

  ‘What, what?’

  In hushed tones, she revealed everything: Caroline’s hatred and nastiness towards her from the off; her involvement in the vicious rumour that she’d assaulted her daughter, and her implicating Finch to cover her own back; giving the doctor consent to violate Josephine with his newfangled ‘healing technique’, and her disregard for the lady and Pip’s feelings on the matter; the queer scheme she and her husband had concocted and how they were hell-bent on the upcoming marriage going ahead; the whole nasty business with Hardman, how the maid wanted shot of her rival, that they might have been overheard discussing her wish to be rid of Caroline for good, that the eavesdropper might have been the intended victim herself … She left out nothing. With each sordid confession, the weight lifted from her like a physical thing.

  ‘God above … You’ve carried all this alone, all this time? Why didn’t you come to me?’

  Her love for him strengthened. He believed her, without question! She could have cried. ‘I didn’t want to worry thee. You see, lad? She’s poison through and through and capable of worse, I’m sure. I just know she’s played a hand in this. I don’t know what to do.’

  He was silent for a long moment, then: ‘Nowt. You do nowt. For now, at least.’

  ‘Aye?’

  ‘If she suspected you were planning on exposing her …’

  ‘Lord knows what she might do next – and to who,’ she finished for him.

  Nodding, he swore beneath his breath. His anger was tangible. ‘Funny, but them filth-riddled streets we once called our bed don’t seem so bloody bad no more. Pray to Christ the marriage goes ahead and we get out of this madhouse, and soon. For all our sakes.’ Suddenly, he took her shoulders and his voice dropped to a soft growl. ‘Promise me. If owt else occurs, if that bitch so much as looks at thee wrong, you seek me out and let me know. Promise, Pip.’

  ‘I promise. Eeh, I don’t know what I’d do without thee,’ she choked, blinded by tears.

  ‘That’s summat you shan’t have cause to find out. I’m going nowhere, never.’

  She clung to him. Though he didn’t return the embrace – that’s not how he was and she wasn’t offended – he did lean into her, his way of allowing himself closeness.

  ‘Come on,’ he said eventually, pulling away. ‘Police said they’d be back after lunch. We’d best get on, discuss what answer
s you’re to put to their questions.’

  By evening, it was as though Jess Hardman had never been at Bracken House.

  True to their word, an inspector and his colleague had returned to take the customary statements from Miss Josephine and Pip – a half-dozen questions were put to them at the most. Had they heard anything unusual? What time had they wakened that morning? Had they stirred from the room, for whatever reason, during the night? Pip thought her heart would leap from her chest as she’d answered a shaky no – to her relief, and a little surprise, the man had barely glanced her way. Smothering a yawn with the back of his hand, he’d edged to the door, as though impatient to be done with what he clearly saw as a cut-and-dried case. An accident had occurred, as accidents were wont to do every second of every day the world over; he obviously saw no need to drag the matter out.

  How cheap the life of a servant, a lower class. She’d have bet both eyes more would have been done had it been a significant member of the household that lost their life. The police had seemed more concerned for the Goldthorpes’ reputation – their association with such an incident could tarnish their good name should word circulate too widely – than the untimely death of a young woman. They had seemed almost apologetic for disturbing the house again with their presence and Pip, resuming her duties as normal after they had been shown out, was sure they wouldn’t see the officers again.

  On instruction from the master, Tabby had journeyed to Hardman’s family in nearby Salford to deliver a canvas bag containing the maid’s effects and, Pip suspected, a generous purse from the dead girl’s genuinely sorry employer as a token of goodwill for services rendered, to tide over the grieving relatives now a wage down. And that had been that. The housemaid was gone. Caroline Goldthorpe had literally got away with murder. The truth had brought a burning knot of self-reproach to Pip’s gut that refused to leave her.