by Linda Finlay
‘Courting?’ Harry asked, looking at Pip sharply.
‘Yeah, I wasn’t going to let ’im in on account of ’im being rude like, but he said he were her betrothed, so I fort I’d better,’ he sighed.
‘Betrothed?’ Harry growled. ‘Are you certain?’
‘Yeah, I fort it was weird too, but ’e said ’e’d come from Plymouth and I remember her saying that’s where she were from. ’Ere, sir, are you all right? You’ve gone all red,’ Pip exclaimed.
But Harry didn’t hear him. As a roaring sound pounded in his ears, he slumped into his chair. Sarah was betrothed? She’d never said anything. And all this time he’d been thinking she liked him. Why, he’d even been making plans for the future. Like a mirage, a picture of her sweet, smiling face rose up before him and he shook his head to clear it. He’d not be taken for a fool. The boys stared anxiously at their teacher.
‘You shouldn’t have told him that,’ Bunter whispered.
‘Why not?’ Pip asked.
‘’Cos he’s sweet on miss, that’s why,’ Brown said.
‘Yeah, his voice goes all funny whenever he sees her,’ Black nodded.
‘Oh ’eck,’ Pip muttered. ‘I wondered why miss was all smiley when she saw him.’
36
‘Rodney, whatever are you doing here?’ Sarah exclaimed, hurrying into her office. When Pip had popped his head around the classroom door to tell her who was waiting, she was certain he’d made a mistake.
‘Sarah, my dearest, how are you?’ Rodney replied.
At this endearment, Sarah stared at him in surprise, for he’d never been one for sweet talk. ‘I’m well, thank you, and yourself?’ she asked politely.
‘I’ll be better when I’m out of my wet things,’ he replied, taking off his great coat and handing her the dripping garment. ‘And this is for you,’ he announced, presenting the long-stemmed rose with a flourish.
As Sarah gazed down at the bloom, its petals crushed and bruised, memories of the way he’d left her for another came flooding back, and she felt a rush of empathy for the broken little flower. ‘Thank you,’ she said coolly, placing it on her desk before hanging his coat on the peg. ‘How is …’ She paused and pretended to ponder on the name that was indelibly printed upon her mind. ‘Molly, that’s it,’ she said.
‘Milly, er, Millicent actually. We are no longer together,’ he said, looking at her as if expecting a joyous response. ‘She wasn’t you, you see,’ he added when she remained silent.
‘Well, no, obviously,’ Sarah replied.
‘I’ve missed you, Sarah,’ he continued in the silky-toned voice she remembered him using when he was trying to get around her. ‘Dare I hope you’ve missed me too?’
She stared down at the broken flower and reflected upon his question. She’d missed him terribly when he’d moved on to pastures new, but she’d been so busy these past few months, she’d hardly given him a thought. Besides, now there was Harry. Unbidden, a picture of his warm eyes and that roguish grin popped into her mind, and she couldn’t help comparing them to Rodney’s judgemental grey eyes and cool demeanour. Rodney saw her staring and his lips curled into a look of … triumph?
‘That motto reflects us, doesn’t it?’ he asked, pointing to the sign above her desk.
‘I don’t see how,’ she replied.
‘Like us, love never faileth. I have come here today to offer you back your ring,’ he announced grandly, placing the familiar little square box before her.
Sarah almost choked at his gall. ‘You mean, you think we can just carry on as though nothing has happened?’ she asked, shaking her head in astonishment.
‘Indeed I do. Now that your father is dead, you will be able to devote all your time to me. That was the only reason I left, of course. A man’s needs are paramount, even more so a husband’s,’ he smiled condescendingly, as if explaining something to a child.
Sarah opened her mouth to remind him her father had been dead for some time. For once, words failed her. As ever, Rodney was thinking only of himself, just as he always had. Mistaking the meaning of her silence, he gave another ingratiating grin.
‘I can see you are overwhelmed, my dear,’ he said, getting to his feet and walking to the window. ‘When I heard you’d inherited property in this neck of the woods, I was staggered. Admittedly, it’s a bit run down, but with some renovation it will make us a good home. Did the old boy leave you any money?’ he asked, turning to face her.
‘Old boy, money, good home?’ she repeated.
‘Always the parrot, Sarah. You really are going to have to start thinking for yourself. Of course, as your husband, you will have me to guide you. Even so, as my wife you will be expected to act with decorum, keep a good house and above all, my dear, dress with some semblance of style,’ he told her, his eyes narrowing as he took in her mismatched top and skirt. ‘Now, do put on your ring then we can go and present ourselves to the vicar.’
‘The vicar?’ she squeaked.
Rodney gave an exasperated sigh. ‘To discuss the calling of our matrimonial banns. Do hurry up with that ring, Sarah. I don’t have all day.’
Sarah stared from the stern expression on his face to the little box on her desk. Slowly her hand moved towards it.
‘For heaven’s sake, Sarah, let me,’ Rodney snapped, all pretence of charm evaporating like morning mist in the heat of the sun.
As if waking from a bad dream, Sarah snatched up the box and thrust it at him. ‘You can take your precious ring and bullying ways back from whence you came,’ she said.
He stared at her sadly, then shook his head. ‘Oh Sarah, dearest, I’d forgotten how you hated surprises. Let me take you out for a nice meal. We can have some wine and discuss our future in more salubrious surroundings,’ he said, looking around the sparsely furnished room and sniffing.
‘There is nothing to discuss, Rodney. And if you require a handkerchief, I’m sure you will find one in your pocket,’ she said, grabbing his coat from the hook and throwing it at him.
‘Well, if that’s how you feel, then I’m sure Milly will be pleased to have this,’ he said, dangling the little box in front of her.
‘If she’s happy with such a pathetic offering then she might also appreciate this as well,’ Sarah retorted, placing the rose on top of his coat. ‘I’ll see you out,’ she said.
Closing the door firmly behind him, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. To think he’d really expected her to fall at his feet. Of all the pig-headed, conceited, overbearing people she’d ever met, Rodney had to take the prize. To think she’d once contemplated marrying the man, she thought, going back into her office and sinking into the chair.
As she fought to regain her composure, she noticed the parcel Amelia had given her. Tugging at the string, she saw a beautifully cut charcoal-grey dress with lace collar and cuffs attached. Shaking out the folds, she hurried to the mirror in the hall and held it up against herself. She could hardly believe the transformation. Gone was the dowdy woman in hand-me-downs; in her place stood the smart proprietor of Red Cliffs. ‘If only you could see me now, Rodney,’ she chuckled. But, like the dowdy woman, Rodney was gone and it was time she resumed her responsibilities.
Hurrying back to the classroom, she was surprised to find the girls sitting in a circle around Amelia. Not only were they sewing, they were chanting as well.
‘You sound as though you’re having fun,’ Sarah said.
Amelia smiled. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Miss Sullivan, but the girls asked if I could teach them how to speak properly. As they were au fait with what they were doing, they’ve been stitching at the same time.’
‘Hello, miss,’ Kitty said, her face wreathed in smiles as she carefully pronounced the ‘h.’
‘How are you, miss?’ Edith enquired, eager not to be left out.
‘How, now, brown cow,’ the class chanted in unison.
‘We’s speakin’ proper, miss,’ Maisie said.
‘We are speaking properly,’ Amelia ge
ntly corrected.
‘That’s what I said,’ Maisie agreed, nodding vigorously.
‘Well, I don’t know what to say,’ Sarah replied weakly.
‘You speaks proper all the time, miss, so you don’t need to say anything,’ Monday smiled at Sarah, who felt her heart swell with pride.
‘We are all going to speak posh like you, aren’t we, Sally?’ Kitty said, turning to the new girl.
‘I didn’t actually realize I spoke any differently until you said, Kitty,’ she replied in her serious way.
‘See,’ Kitty cried, clapping her hands in delight. ‘That’s ’ow we’re going to speak.’
‘Perhaps you’d like to inspect their sewing, Miss Sullivan?’ Amelia suggested quickly. Sarah nodded and went around the group, checking all their aprons. Their stitching, whilst not perfect, was certainly passable. Then she saw Edith’s apron and gasped.
‘Goodness, that’s absolutely wonderful, Edith.’ The girl shrugged but Sarah could tell by the flush on her cheeks she was pleased.
‘I told old Lettuce I could sew but she wouldn’t listen,’ she muttered.
‘Well, you have all done very well, girls. Those aprons have come on a treat. It will soon be supper time, and if I’m not mistaken, Mrs Daws has just finished baking something nice,’ she told them, remembering the spicy aromas that had been wafting along the hallway. ‘Carefully pack away your sewing things, return your seats to their normal places, then go and wash your hands, ready for your meal.’
As the girls did as they’d been bid, Sarah turned to Amelia and smiled. ‘Thank you so much, Amelia. I don’t know how I’d have managed without your assistance. The girls have obviously taken to you and their sewing has progressed nicely. I can’t believe they want to learn to speak properly.’
‘They are a delight to teach and want to learn some songs next. Do you know, Sally sings like a little lark? The Deaconess encourages her to spend an hour each morning performing scales, as the exercises are good for her breathing.’
‘My, you have found out a lot this afternoon, Amelia. Perhaps we can get Sally to teach the girls one of her songs,’ Sarah suggested, staring at her in admiration. Amelia smiled then hesitated. ‘Did you wish to ask me something?’ Sarah prompted.
‘At break, Mrs Daws mentioned Miss Green has left Red Cliffs. I know you are busy preparing for the inspection and was wondering if you’d like me to take the children for sewing on Tuesday afternoon?’
Sarah stared at Amelia in surprise. ‘You are the answer to my prayers,’ she cried. ‘As your dear grandmother has been,’ she said, holding up the charcoal dress. ‘This is absolutely perfect. Please thank Mrs Knight for me.’
‘I will, although in truth she cut out the material and I did the stitching. If there’s nothing else you need, I’d better go and see how Grandma and her sewing bee are. They have made a start on the boys’ garments and are determined to have them finished by Wednesday.’
‘That is marvellous. I can’t believe how kind everyone has been,’ Sarah told her.
‘We were all fond of Dr Lawrence and want his good work to continue,’ Amelia replied. ‘I remember he always had a sweet for me,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll see you on Tuesday, then. Good afternoon, Miss Sullivan.’
‘I want to hang up my dress so I’ll see you out, Amelia. Thank you again for all your help.’
By the time Sarah went through to the kitchen, preparation for dishing up the supper was under way.
‘Something smells nice, Mrs Daws,’ Sarah told the woman. Then, remembering the fish and chip supper she was to share with Harry, she added, ‘Although I won’t be requiring any this evening.’
‘As you wish, Miss Sullivan,’ the housekeeper sniffed.
Thinking the woman was offended, Sarah asked if there was anything she could do to help. ‘No, you go and do your paperwork,’ Mrs Daws replied shortly.
Feeling she’d been dismissed, Sarah hurried through to her little room and set about tidying herself up as best she could. She toyed with the idea of wearing her new dress but decided against it. It was only a fish and chip supper after all, she thought, picking up the brightly coloured shawl before making her way back to her office to wait for Harry.
She lit the gas lamp and pulled the flimsy curtains, then set about entering the bills that had come in during the week into the new ledger. As she worked, butterflies of anticipation skittered around her stomach and she found it hard to concentrate. The little clock she’d placed on the fireplace chimed six, then the quarter and half hour, and still he hadn’t turned up. Perhaps Dr Hawkins, having received her message, had called by to inspect Sally. Being the conscientious man he was, Harry always made time to talk to him. By the time the clock struck seven, she gave up all pretence of working and decided to go and see what was holding him up.
Mrs Daws was busy chopping vegetables on the big table and didn’t look up when Sarah entered.
‘You’re not still working, Mrs Daws?’ she asked.
‘Well, these vegetables aren’t going to turn themselves into soup for the Sunday children, are they?’ the housekeeper replied tersely.
‘Oh goodness, I’d forgotten it was Sunday tomorrow. We could do without that, couldn’t we?’
‘I’m sure the street children wouldn’t be happy going without their weekly meal, Miss Sullivan,’ the woman replied pointedly, before attacking a turnip with her knife.
‘Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Have you seen Master Higgins?’
‘Not since he went home, no.’
‘Home?’ Sarah said in surprise. ‘But we were supposed to be going out for supper.’
‘Happen he changed his mind then.’ The woman sniffed and disappeared into the pantry.
‘The children are all bathed and have their clean clothes ready for church tomorrow,’ April announced, coming through with an armful of wet towels. ‘Oh, I thought you were Mrs Daws,’ she muttered, glaring at Sarah before going out to the washroom.
Sarah stared after her in dismay. What on earth’s the matter with everyone? she wondered, sinking onto a chair. Even the cat stared at her disapprovingly before going back to sleep. Sighing, she poured herself a cup of tea from the still-warm pot and waited for Mrs Daws to reappear. When she did, she was labouring under the weight of a sack of flour.
‘Let me help you,’ she said, jumping up and taking it from the woman. ‘You’re looking tired, Mrs Daws. Couldn’t this wait until the morning?’
‘No.’
‘Well, at least let me help.’ Sarah said, reaching for the large mixing bowl on the dresser.
‘I can manage,’ the woman snapped, taking it from her.
Sarah watched as the housekeeper poured water onto the flour and began mixing it together with more force than was necessary.
‘Miss Knight has offered to teach the girls on Tuesday,’ Sarah told her. This was greeted by a thump as the dough was turned out onto the floured table. April came back in, shooting Sarah another glare as she passed. Then Pip came hobbling through carrying the boys’ towels. When he too shot her a disparaging look, Sarah decided enough was enough.
‘Stop right there, Pip, if you would. Now will someone please tell me why I’m either being ignored or glared at?’
He exchanged looks with Mrs Daws then sighed. ‘’Cos you’ve been leading Master Higgins up the garden path. He’s right upset.’
‘Never seen him looking so miserable,’ Mrs Daws muttered. ‘’Tis a crying shame, what with him being a decent man and all.’
‘Let me get this straight. You’re saying Master Higgins has gone home because he’s upset and it’s my fault?’ Sarah asked.
‘Yeah, proper unhappy he was,’ April said, coming back in with more dirty laundry.
‘But what has that to do with me?’ Sarah asked.
‘He really liked you, miss,’ Pip said.
‘And I really like him, so what’s the problem?’
‘You already got a fella, that’s what,’ April retorted.
&nb
sp; ‘Wouldn’t have had you down as the type for twice-timing,’ Mrs Daws sniffed. ‘Still, you can never tell.’
‘Twice-timing?’ Sarah asked, perplexed.
‘You mean two-timing, Mrs Daws,’ April explained. ‘With that toff who came.’
‘Oh Rodney, you mean,’ she cried, realization dawning.
‘Yeah, him, the one with his eyes too close together,’ Pip nodded. ‘Poor Master Higgins went all crumpled when he heard your betrothed had come calling.’
‘But Rodney is not my betrothed,’ Sarah cried. ‘I mean, we were many months ago but he broke it off. When he came back today wanting to resume our relationship, I said no and sent him packing.’
‘So this Rodney ain’t your feller then?’ April asked, her face brightening.
‘No, most definitely not,’ Sarah vehemently assured her.
‘Oh ’eck,’ Pip muttered.
37
Sarah sank into bed, her feeling of dismay turning to anger. That Harry should have such little faith in her, hurt more than she cared to admit. Determined to have it out with him the next morning, she fell into a restless sleep. It was late when she woke. She dressed quickly and hurried through to the kitchen.
‘Good morning, Mrs Daws,’ she greeted the housekeeper.
‘Is it?’ the woman sighed. Thinking she was still being blamed for the misunderstanding of the previous evening, Sarah opened her mouth. ‘Master Higgins hasn’t turned up. I can’t think what’s happened to him,’ Mrs Daws cried, staring at Sarah as if she had the answer. ‘I’m sorry if I was hasty in my judgement of you last evening, Miss Sullivan. I was that worried the master was hurt, I wasn’t thinking straight.’
And what about me, Sarah wanted to scream, but seeing the concern on the housekeeper’s face, she bit back her retort. ‘He’s probably waiting at the church gates for us,’ she replied, turning to Pip and April who were hovering in the doorway. ‘Get the children into line, please.’
‘Ooh, miss, do you think the master’s jumped into the sea and drowned of a broken heart?’ April cried, putting her hand on her chest dramatically.
‘No, I do not, April,’ Sarah replied firmly. ‘Now, please hurry along. It would look bad if we arrived after the service has begun.’