Don’t Cry Alone

by Don’t Cry Alone (retail) (epub)

  ‘As you wish.’ Miss Mulliver was delighted. ‘As soon as I’ve received my due wages.’

  Straightening her stiff body, Esther stared at the woman, her fists clenched and the muscles in her face twitching. ‘You have ten minutes to get your things together,’ she warned. ‘There will be no wages. In fact, you can consider yourself fortunate that I haven’t called the authorities to have you physically ousted. They would be most interested to hear of the shocking manner in which you have dared to address me, your employer, a prominent member of society. As a matter of fact, it might be wise for me to have you and your belongings thoroughly searched, for who knows what you might have stolen.’ Her meaning was unmistakable. Her voice rose as she added viciously, ‘Ten minutes, or face the consequences.’

  Miss Mulliver smiled. She was thoroughly enjoying this confrontation. ‘Ah! I wondered when you might threaten me with the authorities. Well now, I wonder whether they might also be interested in a tale or two that I could tell them? Your son is a dreadful embarrassment to you, isn’t he, Mrs Ward?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Esther’s hand rose to her throat, nervously clasping the pearl brooch there.

  ‘Oh, I think you know well enough what I mean. Drinking and gambling, coming home in the small hours, often with a painted street-girl hanging on his arm. Oh, and of course, there’s the other company he keeps. People of the night, crooks and gamblers, men who would stop at nothing to protect their own underhand activities. Happen the “authorities” might be very interested to know the identity of these villains, and happen they would like to question your son on that very matter.’ She could see Esther was shocked by her words, how she seemed to shrink before them. ‘But, of course, you must call in the authorities if it pleases you. Though you know as well as I do, Mrs Ward, they will find nothing in my belongings that isn’t mine. Unless, of course, you intend deliberately to incriminate me. And I can promise you, that would not be very wise.’

  Without saying a word, Esther yanked open the top drawer of her desk, snatching from it a small cash-box. Taking hold of the silver chain around her throat, she tugged on it until the whole length was drawn from within the neck of her dress. Then, with the tiny brass key hanging there, she unlocked the cash-box and angrily counted out a number of coins. These she threw into a buff-coloured envelope which she slid across the desk. ‘Ten minutes,’ she repeated in a rasping whisper. ‘After that I never want to see your face again.’

  Collecting the envelope, Miss Mulliver simply smiled. It was good to see this woman experiencing frustration and helplessness, especially when she had taken such delight in treating her husband the same way. One long withering glance at Esther’s face, then she turned away.

  * * *

  Her portmanteau was almost packed. Soon she would be gone from this house, never to return. She had waited for this day for a very long time.

  ‘May I come in?’ Richard tapped gently on the door and was now peeping in. ‘It was open,’ he apologised.

  ‘Please, yes. Come in, sir.’ As usual when she was in his company, Tilly Mulliver blushed a soft shade of pink.

  ‘I understand you’re leaving?’ he said. ‘I’ve just seen Mrs Ward, and she appears to be very agitated… upset because she couldn’t persuade you to stay, I shouldn’t wonder,’ he said innocently. ‘I must say, though, I’m not really surprised. All the same, I thought you might be staying after I was gone.’ He glanced at the bulging portmanteau lying on the bed. ‘You weren’t influenced by my leaving, were you?’ he asked, a curious expression on his face.

  ‘Oh, no!’ she assured him. ‘I’ve been meaning to hand in my notice for some time now. A personal matter, you see.’ She wondered what he would say if she suddenly blurted out the truth… that she had stayed at the express wish of Elizabeth, the woman he had wronged all those years ago. What would his reaction be, she wondered, if she were to tell him how Elizabeth had long forgiven him, though she had never stopped loving him?

  For one dreadful moment, she was tempted to reveal the real reason for her having stayed so long in the employ of a woman as demanding and impossible as Esther Ward, the woman he had chosen above the mother of his child. Instead, she looked into those unhappy hazel eyes and knew he had suffered enough. She gave a small laugh. ‘I’m afraid I spoke a few home-truths to your wife,’ she said. ‘That’s why she’s so agitated.’

  He said nothing for a while, biting his bottom lip as though to stem laughter at her remark. ‘I guessed as much,’ he said, rolling his eyes heavenward. ‘No wonder she has a face as black as thunder. You did right to speak your mind. She hasn’t treated you well, I know.’

  ‘She hasn’t treated you well either.’

  ‘Ah, but maybe I deserved it.’ His reply confused her for a moment, until she realised what he meant. Of course. For over twenty-seven years, ever since the birth of his daughter, Esther must have made his life a living hell. Again, the temptation was strong to tell him everything. Esther might not want or love him, but Elizabeth adored him. He was desperately in need of someone to love him. Surely it would not be so wrong to bring the two of them together? But no! Elizabeth would never forgive her for going against her express instructions. ‘I really should be going,’ Tilly said now. ‘Your wife warned me that if I was not out of this house in ten minutes, she would bring the authorities down on my head.’ Turning to the portmanteau, she began squashing the lid down on the pile of belongings inside.

  ‘Here. Let me do that,’ he urged, coming to her side and taking over the task when she murmured her thanks and stepped away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, glancing up at her as he pushed his weight on to the lid, ‘but the house is hers now. You know, of course, that we’re parting company?’ She nodded, and so he went on quietly, ‘Everything I built up over the years… it’s almost all gone. Esther has taken the lion’s share of what’s left. Oh, I have just enough to give me a fresh start, but it won’t be easy. Besides, I’m not a young man any more.’ He laughed, but it was not a happy sound. ‘The truth is, she could afford a better solicitor than me.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She wanted to say much more.

  ‘Don’t be,’ he told her, clicking the lid down and smiling at her. ‘There, all secure,’ he said, sliding the portmanteau to the floor.

  Suddenly his voice was quieter, more intimate. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll ever see you again.’ He looked at her, his expression oddly apprehensive. ‘Will I?’

  ‘I… really don’t know, sir.’ He had flustered her.

  ‘Please… don’t call me sir,’ he said softly, bending his head to look into her face which had coloured up at his words. ‘May I call you Tilly?’ She looked away, unsure of what to say. Thoughts of Elizabeth clouded her mind, making her feel guilty.

  ‘I must go.’ She moved away, but he stopped her.

  ‘Will you come with me, Tilly?’ he asked now. ‘I’ve arranged to lease a house in Russell Square. It’s not a big place but, well, I’ll be lost there all on my own, and you must know how useless I am about the house.’ Angry with himself for not having handled the situation as he had planned, he was quick to assure her, ‘Please don’t think I’m proposing anything immoral.’ When she looked up with amusement on her face, his whole manner relaxed. ‘Though I wouldn’t want you to believe it was altogether impossible for me to think of you in that way. You really are a very attractive woman, Tilly.’ He gazed at her now, his thoughts a million years away, and was reminded of someone he had known and loved long ago. Elizabeth also had been a gentle soul. ‘I would be very happy if you would agree to come to Russell Square with me, Tilly… as my housekeeper. And of course I wouldn’t expect you to look after the place without help.’

  ‘Much as I would like to, sir,’ she remembered what he had said about calling him ‘sir’ and quickly corrected herself, ‘Mr Ward, I’m not able to take you up on your offer.’ If the situation was different, she would have jumped at the chance to go with him. ‘It has nothing to do with you,’ she promis
ed him. ‘Like I said… it’s a personal matter.’

  ‘You’re not in any trouble, are you? Is there something I can do?’

  ‘No, no. It’s nothing like that.’ How much could she tell him without revealing the truth? ‘It’s just that I have a dear friend who is ill, and I want to be with her.’ That was the whole truth, for Elizabeth had grown weaker in health and, against that dear woman’s wishes, Tilly had insisted on leaving the Ward household and going home, where she could keep a closer eye on her beloved mistress. It was only after her decision was made that she learned Richard was also leaving, although she had long been aware of the fraught situation which had developed between him and Esther.

  Dipping his two fingers into his waistcoat pocket, he drew out a folded piece of paper on which, only moments before, he had hastily written his new address. ‘Take this,’ he said. ‘If ever you should change your mind,’ he appeared embarrassed when she raised her eyes to gaze on him, ‘well, you’ll know where to find me.’ How different from his wife she was, he thought. So caring and good. For a long time now he had seen her as she really was, and he had come to like her a great deal. Even to love her a little.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ll remember.’ She didn’t want to leave him, but Elizabeth exerted a far stronger pull on her loyalties. They stood for a moment, he looking down at her and she wishing he would leave her now. But he was not ready to go. Bringing his hands up, he cupped her face and without warning placed his mouth over hers and kissed her tenderly. Then, with a lingering look, he murmured, ‘Whenever you need me, Tilly, I’ll be waiting.’ He dropped his hands to his sides and went from her, out of the room and out of her life.

  Trembling from head to toe, she sat on the bed, her mind in a whirl. He had kissed her. Richard Ward had actually kissed her! Her joy knew no bounds. Until she remembered. ‘Oh, Elizabeth,’ she murmured. ‘Forgive me.’ She hurriedly gathered her things together then went quickly out of that house where she had come to know and love a man who was forbidden to her. She could not believe that he might love her too. But he had kissed her. He had kissed her, and her life would never be the same.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tying the silk scarf loosely about his neck, Tyler flung open the door of his splendid house in Kensington, shivering when the blast of cold air rushed in from outside. Turning up the collar of his overcoat, he took his hat from the hall-stand and clapped it over his thick black hair. As he prepared to go out into the night, a woman’s voice caused him to pause. From the depths of the house, she called out to ask whether she should keep supper for him. ‘No,’ he answered without hesitation, ‘I’m going into town and won’t be back until late.’ He lingered a second, but there was no acknowledgement. Shrugging his shoulders, he stepped out of the house, closed the door, and went into the darkness, his head bent against the wind and the cold breeze slicing into him without mercy. These past months had gone all too quickly and winter had come with a vengeance. He thought he must be crazy to be out on a night like this. But, if he stayed indoors, he would be haunted by thoughts of Beth, and that would never do. Lately, he had come to realise that he would probably never see her again. It was a hard and painful thing to accept.

  ‘Evening, sir.’ The constable raised his hand in greeting. He knew this gentleman by sight, as he was often to be seen walking out of an evening, always deep in thought, always pleasant to talk to. ‘Bit nippy tonight, wouldn’t you say?’ He smiled, his face a vague round shape in the rising night fog.

  ‘Evening, officer,’ Tyler called back. ‘It’s certainly bitter tonight. I don’t envy you your duty, and that’s a fact.’

  ‘Just a job, sir,’ the constable replied, giving a slight cough as though to convey how the damp creeping fog had already got on his lungs. ‘Goodnight then, sir.’

  ‘Goodnight, officer.’ Soon the sturdy figure of the constable had gone from Tyler’s sight, melting into the swirling grey vapour, the sound of his coughing growing fainter in the distance.

  Emerging from the gloom, the noise of a horse’s hooves attracted Tyler’s attention; soon he could see the small lamps of an oncoming carriage. Quickly, before it passed him by, he stepped out, his eyes peering towards the approaching lights and his arm outstretched to flag down the vehicle. Seeing a prospective passenger, the driver pulled on the reins. ‘Woah, yer old bugger,’ he told the tired horse up front.’ Yer day’s work ain’t done yet.’ Drawing the Hansom into the kerb, the old fellow acknowledged instructions to take the gentleman to a certain club in the West End of London, and in no time at all they were on their way.

  Seated in the cab, Tyler clung on to the leather strap hanging from the door, his fine eyes downcast and his thoughts quietly assessing the way of his life. He had many regrets. Too many! There were times when he would have given anything to escape from the prison which he had created for himself; a prison built on material possessions and forced ambitions; a prison where there was no love, only a terrible loneliness that grew more unbearable with every day. Memories, that was all he had. No more than that. Just memories of his time with Beth. All the money and power in the world were nothing compared to the joy which she had brought him. But the joy had been too short-lived, a treasure that had once been his and was now snatched from him forever. And though he knew it was wrong and futile to keep those memories alive in his heart, nothing else in life mattered to him.

  Raising his eyes to the window he stared up at the night sky, trying desperately to shut her out, but it was impossible. Wherever he looked, she was there, her golden-brown hair spilling over her shoulders, and those dark laughing eyes that could turn his heart over with one glance. She was here with him now, in the carriage. In the hazy evening sky that merged with the gloomy night and stretched like a silver ocean as far as the eye could see, she was there. In the daytime when he went about his business in the City she walked beside him, and when he went to his bed of an evening it was Beth who lay in his arms. It would always be that way. As long as he lived, he would live only for her.

  The quiet streets soon gave way to the busier byways of the heart of London Town. ‘Here you are then, Guv.’ The driver brought the cab to an abrupt halt and waited patiently until Tyler had disembarked and found the necessary coins with which to pay him.

  Once inside the club, it took only a moment for Tyler to deposit his overcoat and hat at the desk. Afterwards he went straight to the bar.

  ‘Go right in, sir.’ The man on duty knew Tyler by sight. Pushing open the green baize door, he held it aside while Tyler passed through.

  The outer foyer was quiet, a haven from the noise and chaos inside. The din emerged now: music that was harsh to the ear, outbursts of laughter, low mutterings, and the clinking of glasses. The odour of smoke and pipe tobacco rose like a choking cloud. Pressing a silver coin into the man’s hand, Tyler went in. The door swung to behind him.

  He remained standing a while, taking a long slim case from his pocket and plucking out a cigarette. He held it in his fingers, rolling it round, not attempting to light it while his ebony-fringed green eyes took in the scene before him. The smoky atmosphere was unpleasant, yet comforting to a man wanting to hide. A whimsical smile played at the corners of his mouth. Wasn’t that exactly what he was? A man wanting to hide? Impatient, he replaced the cigarette, snapped the case shut and slipped it back into his pocket. The club was crowded tonight. Almost every table was filled and the bar was lined with men from one end to the other. Waiters flitted between the tables, trays held aloft and every move practised to a fine art.

  Realising he would have a long wait at the bar, Tyler surveyed the far end of the room. ‘Is it a table you’re wanting, sir?’ The club’s manager appeared from nowhere, a small, moustachioed man, immaculate in his dark suit.

  ‘Is there one vacant?’ He had no appetite for company. A table out of the way would suit his mood.

  ‘I think we can accommodate you.’ The little man’s smile might have been painted on; but then he was o
bliged to smile so many times at so many people, it was no longer a smile but an empty facial expression, part of his uniform, like the dark stiff suit he wore, or the shiny patent shoes that pinched his toes unmercifully. ‘If you would please follow me, sir.’ Without waiting, he began threading his way through the milling madness. Tyler was only a few steps behind. ‘Will this suit you, sir?’ the manager asked, standing beside the small circular table for two. It was only an arm’s length from the bar, but the two were separated by a high open trellis covered with creeping vine.

  ‘Fine.’ Situated in a shadowy corner away from the hubbub, it suited Tyler’s quiet melancholy mood. That’s just fine,’ he said. His order was soon taken and he settled back into the surprisingly comfortable red velvet chair. This time when he took out a cigarette, he collected the dainty club matches from the table. Lighting the cigarette, he drew on it with great deliberation, his eyes drawn by the tinkling laughter of a woman seated at a table not too far away; though he could easily see the slim heavily painted female and her companion, they could not see him. The companion was a disgusting lump of a man twice the woman’s age, his fat fingers roving her thighs, and his balding head buried in the nape of her neck, while she wriggled deliciously, pretending to enjoy his advances. The man could not see her face, otherwise he would have been in no doubt as to her true revulsion. Tyler looked away. It was sad when a woman was reduced to selling herself in that way.