by Gracie Hart
‘But he doesn’t love me, Mama, he treats me so badly. I know he has another woman that he goes to at least two nights a week and he expects me just to turn a blind eye to all his assignations. He never ever looks at me with any love, or indeed touches me.’ Priscilla had contacted her mother-in-law in desperation, as there was no one else to turn to with her problems.
‘I’m afraid, my dear, William takes after his father in some respects. They both have manly needs that a normal marriage cannot fulfill. You will just have to ignore his lustful ways and be thankful that he isn’t demanding your attention every night. I have done just that for years, and to be quite frank my dear, I’m grateful for the nights Mr Ellershaw and I sleep apart. Otherwise, I’d have to lie back and think of England and put up with his heaving which I find quite repulsive these days. I still love my husband, just like you, so I do have some sympathies. Just be grateful that you have still got a roof over your head and are kept in a very good fashion. A fashion that you would not have had if my son and my father had not saved your family from financial ruin.’ Catherine Ellershaw hadn’t time for her scatty daughter-in-law’s complaining. Priscilla’s appearance had got worse of late and she was more hysterical than usual, but she would just have to buck up and live with her circumstances.
‘I love him so much, but he treats me so badly. Some mornings I wake and don’t want the day to happen. I have nothing and no one to live for,’ Priscilla sobbed.
‘Don’t be so dramatic, Priscilla, there are hundreds of wives in exactly the same position as you. Men will do what men will do and we have to grin and bear it. Now get on with your life, find a new hobby, get out more and stop moping. My William was a good catch and I’ll not hear another bad word about him or your marriage. You have got to smarten yourself up and give him something to come home to. Looking at you now, I can fully understand him taking a whore, even they look more presentable than you. Your husband has a position of power. Make him proud to have you on his arm, instead of this unstable wretch that is standing in front of me at this minute. Are you going to the Guild Ball at the end of this month? That will give you an opportunity to shine. Treat yourself to a new dress. Grace and her partner Miss Wild will dress you in something spectacular of that I’m sure.’
‘Oh no, William won’t want to take me there, I’ll only show him up. He usually goes on his own. At least that is what he tells me.’ Priscilla looked fearful at the proposition of attending such a prestigious event.
‘Well, this time go with him and prove that he should still be proud of having you, and charm everyone. Act like the lady that you are, Priscilla.’ Catherine rose from her chair. ‘You know, I would relish this house. You have everything I ever wanted. Now look after your husband and make your life complete. You don’t realise how lucky you are, that’s your problem, Priscilla. Try and keep your spirits lifted. No man wants a woman who is constantly moaning. William will always have his needs and you must learn to live with them. Now, I must be away, I promised to call in at Mrs Hutchinson’s. She has just lost her husband, died after a bout of pneumonia, poor soul, and him only forty-two. She’s going to be lonely without him, so count your blessings, madam. Things could be worse.’
Priscilla sat in her chair sobbing. She should have known her mother-in-law would have no sympathy for her because, after all, she was in the same situation. Everyone knew that Edmund Ellershaw was a bastard when it came to using women and that his wife had married badly and below her standing, causing her father to bequeath his estates to his grandchildren upon his death. Catherine, however, could live without her husband’s love and attention, unlike her. Her heart was broken and so was her self-esteem and her love for life. Life itself meant nothing to her and she no longer wanted to face the world.
Chapter 25
Tom Thackeray whistled as he walked along the cobbled street down into Woodlesford. He’d gone to chapel as always on a Sunday and now he was going to do something that had been playing on his mind ever since he had seen Mary-Anne Wild. He was about to put right a wrong of the past twelve years and hopefully make both his and Eliza Wild’s lives more fulfilled. This time there was no interfering mother and no phantom lovers and both of them were in positions of responsibility and respect.
His heart had been broken at the thought of Eliza being untrue to him all those years ago, while his mother had selfishly kept him for herself, making sure that any woman that came courting soon realised that Tom was his mother’s and she was not willing to share him. Now, a year on from her death, he was free to court whom he wished, and the words that Mary-Anne had said to him had made him determined to right a wrong and try to rekindle the love that Eliza and he had felt for one another.
He breathed in the warm spring air and strode to the area of Woodlesford where the business folk lived in their smart bay-fronted terraced houses with tended gardens surrounded by iron railings, a million miles from the small pit cottage that the Wilds used to live in. He opened the garden gate and stood for a second on the pristine doorstep before he tugged on the bell pull, nerves flitting about like a frantic butterfly in his stomach as he doubted his actions. He heard someone come to answer the door.
‘Can I help, sir?’ The maid employed by Eliza looked at the man she did not recognise and noticed a flush on his cheeks.
‘Could you tell Miss Wild that Tom Thackeray would like to pay his respects?’ Tom took his cap off and screwed it up in his hands, worrying if he had made a mistake.
‘Would that be my mistress Miss Eliza?’ The maid enquired.
‘Miss Eliza,’ Tom answered, as a voice was heard asking who was at the door.
‘It’s a Mr Tom Thackeray, ma’am.’ The maid turned and informed Eliza as she came to the door.
‘Tom, now this is a surprise! how long is it since I’ve seen you?’ Eliza pushed past the maid and looked at the man she once loved standing on the doorstep. ‘You can go now, thank you, Lucy.’ As she looked at Tom, her heart missed a beat as all the memories of the love they once shared came flooding back.
‘I hope you don’t mind me calling, but I bumped into your Mary-Anne and she said that she thought that you would be pleased for me to call on you, even after all these years … and perhaps renew our friendship, if that is possible.’ Tom stood on the doorstep looking at the beautiful, well-dressed woman and remembering her wicked amusing laughter and cheeky innocence of youth.
‘Did she now? Well, she was right, nothing would delight me more, please come into our home and let us catch up with one another.’ Eliza held the door open and let Tom brush past her. He had hardly changed from the lad that she had strolled out with down Pit Lane. He still smelt the same and still had a liking for checked jackets and breeches she noticed as she showed him into the parlour.
‘Victoria, may I introduce you to Mr Tom Thackeray? Tom and I used to be friends long before you were born. Tom, this is my niece, Victoria. I’m sure Mary-Anne will have told you all about her if you’ve already spoken to her.’ Eliza smiled quickly at Tom. She was aware of a sudden warmth in her cheeks.
‘Aye, she did that, told me all about you and how she was proud of both you and your aunt. She sounded as if she had regretted every moment away from you both, even though she’s seen things that we can only dream of.’ So it was this young woman whose parentage had caused such confusion and consternation all those years ago? She was the spitting image of Mary-Anne – it was clear whose daughter she was.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Mr Thackeray. My aunt has mentioned you in the past and she is always complimentary when she speaks of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go to the study and write one or two letters. I’m sure you have a lot to catch up upon.’ Victoria glanced at her aunt’s flushed cheeks and guessed that there had been more than a friendship between them in the past. She was not about to come between a re-kindling of such a flame.
‘Please do not go on my account, it is only a short visit, just a few minutes to pass a long Sunday afternoon.’
‘Nonsense, you must sit down and join me for tea. Victoria, when you go up to write your letters, tell Lizzie we would like tea and biscuits and then we are not to be disturbed.’
Tom spluttered and then came out with the words that he had rehearsed so many times already in his head. ‘Eliza, I’m sorry. Mary-Anne told me everything. I was young and I was foolish. I was also madly jealous and my mother thought nobody to be good enough for me and she didn’t want to share me. There’s not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. I’ve regretted thinking so low of you, back then. I don’t suppose you have it in your heart to forgive me?’ Tom stood up and went to the window not daring to even look at Eliza.
Eliza hung her head and recalled the hurt that she had felt when rejected by her one true love. ‘You broke my heart. You wouldn’t listen that I loved you and you alone. When Victoria arrived and after Mary-Anne had left us both, for nearly three years I struggled to keep my head held high and wait for Mary-Anne to re-claim her child so that I could resume my life again. But that never happened. Instead I brought Victoria up to what you saw before you today. Without the generosity of Grace Ellershaw and my hard work, we would not have survived. The times that I could have done with your shoulder to cry on and for you just to say how much you loved me, I’ve lost track of. There’s only ever been one man in my life and that has always been you. So, Tom don’t play with my heart again. If you are truly here through love and friendship, do stay, but I couldn’t bear to be hurt again.’ Eliza was near tears. She still felt for Tom deeply. There had been nobody else since the day he had walked away from her.
Tom turned and looked at Eliza. ‘It seems we have both been fools, but I have been the biggest one. We have wasted the best years of our lives doing other’s bidding when we could have lived out happy lives together. Eliza, let’s put the past behind us and from this day go forward with our friendship, it’s not too late for us to find happiness. My mother died last year and she left me the cottage on Wood Lane and Edmund Ellershaw has just made me his manager again at the Rose. He still treats me like he always does but at least he is paying me slightly more pay after realising he can’t run the pit without me.’ Tom sat in the chair next to Eliza and was about to take her hand, but was interrupted when the maid knocked on the door and entered to put the tea tray in front of them.
‘Thank you, Lizzie.’ Eliza smiled at her maid as she curtsied and left them together again. ‘Edmund Ellershaw, how that man is hated in this house. Did Mary-Anne tell you that he is Victoria’s father but has never admitted to her existence, let alone given her any support? The poor girl got told of her parentage just lately and is still finding it hard to comprehend, especially with me being both friends and in partnership with Grace. Victoria too is friends with George, his youngest son; indeed I worried at one time that their friendship was perhaps not healthy, but Victoria tells me that would never be the case for many reasons.’
‘Aye, I don’t think that you’ve any problem there. From what I’ve seen and heard about him, he’s not a ladies’ man, unlike his father.’ Tom grinned at Eliza as he took his cup and saucer from her.
Eliza sat back and looked across at Tom and then laughed. ‘What goes around comes around. It serves the bastard right.’ She giggled like a schoolgirl.
‘Aye, and he doesn’t hide it that much, but I don’t think his father’s cottoned on to the fact that his youngest prefers men to women. You should hear the lads at the pit, they don’t half have some laughs about him behind old Ellershaw’s back.’ Tom laughed and looked across at the woman he had always loved. Now, after nearly twelve years, they were talking to each other as if he’d never been away.
Eliza smiled and sipped her tea. It was good to have Tom back in her life. Somebody who knew her from the old days, who knew everything about her and with whom there was no need to put on airs and graces to entertain and keep them amused. She might now have plenty of friends in high places, people who respected her for her business skills, but Tom knew who she really was and had re-entered her life like a breath of fresh air. How she had missed him. And now he was back, and she was not about to let him disappear again.
Chapter 26
Mary-Anne hummed contently to herself as she reached to open the garden gate on her return home from lunch with William. Earlier, she had visited Eliza at the shop, with the added bonus of seeing Victoria. Life was good: Victoria was beginning to accept her and trust her, and Eliza was full of the news of Tom’s visit. Her face had shone with the love that her old flame had re-kindled, and Mary-Anne was pleased that her words had not fallen on stony ground when it had come to her matchmaking. As for William, well, she had him just where she wanted him. He was smitten and she was finding it amusing just how far she could tease and keep him on edge for her company and favours.
Mary-Anne suddenly stopped in her tracks. She was about to unlock the door into her home with Ma Fletcher, only for it to open, and a tall sombre-looking man made his way out.
‘Good afternoon,’ the man with papers under his arm said to her before walking away.
‘Who was that then? I didn’t know you were having visitors.’ Mary-Anne hung her bonnet up.
‘He’s from Capstick and Sons, on The Headrow. He’s my solicitor. I sent for him the other day. I didn’t say anything to you because I wanted to talk to him on my own about my will. So I sent that gormless lad that always stands on the corner with a message for him to call today while you were out.’ Ma Fletcher sat back in her chair and sighed. ‘Aye, you needn’t look so worried, I’ve not done owt daft. I’ve just made sure my wishes will be carried out after my death. I thought I’d better have it in writing, then there’s no misunderstanding. ‘
‘But you are feeling all right? Are you ill?’ She might be an old cantankerous woman, but Mary-Anne was fond of the old so-and-so all the same.
‘Aye, apart from my pins are bad and sometimes I get this pain in my chest. But I’m tired of life, lass, this old body has seen enough. I watch you and think, I wish I was that young again, I’d have lived my life so differently. Now, lass, let me tell you what I’ve done. I’ve made the whole lot yours after my death; there’s nobody else I could think I would want to leave anything to. But you can guarantee some grovelling worm will appear out of the woodwork after my death. So I’m straight with myself and you now.’ Ma Fletcher closed her eyes and swallowed. ‘If nowt comes of your carrying on with William Ellershaw, at least I know you’ll not want for owt and your Victoria could come and live with you here, now we are all tarted up.’
‘But we aren’t related, and you owe me nothing. I’ve only been here a short time. It’s not that I’m not grateful, because believe me, I am. I could never have afforded a house like this, nor its contents.’ Mary-Anne sat down next to the old woman. ‘I know our original pact was to get even with Edmund Ellershaw and to give him something to worry about while I flirt with his son, but I’ve only just started leading him on.’
‘Lass, I’ve been looked after the best I’ve ever been looked after all my life these last few weeks. You deserve it all, now leave me be, so that I can have forty winks. Besides, you look as happy as the cat that got the cream. I think you are enjoying your time with William Ellershaw a little too much. You do what’s right by your own heart and forget about this stupid old woman’s schemes, nowt matters when you are six foot below in a box.’ Ma Fletcher pulled her shawl around her, keeping her eyes closed. She was tired and she had not told Mary-Anne the whole truth. She knew that her health was failing, she could feel it in her bones, and there was little time left to seek revenge upon Edmund and William Ellershaw. Better she go to her maker with purer thoughts in her heart.
Mary-Anne sat at the kitchen table, shaking her head. Was she really the heir to Ma Fletcher’s small fortune? All for the sake of a few weeks’ care and the same loathing of the Ellershaws. Mary-Anne stopped herself from being excited about the prospect of inheriting it all. After all, it wasn’t to be celebrated as it w
ould mean the death of the kind old woman. She also mulled over the words that she had said regarding William Ellershaw. She didn’t miss much, despite her years. She’d been sharp enough to recognise that yes, Mary-Anne was beginning to enjoy William’s company a little too much and, if she were to be honest, sometimes she forgot the original plan of getting even with the Ellershaws. Now, no matter what happened, Mary-Anne would have security, thanks once again to Ma Fletcher. She would never be able to thank her enough.
Edmund Ellershaw sat awaiting his son’s appearance at his office at Highwater Mill. He tapped his stick and continually looked at his pocket watch as William’s clerk kept apologising for the absence of his boss. Edmund grew more and more frustrated with his son. Work was obviously more important than the fact that his father was here to visit him, a visit it was unusual for his father to make.
‘Are you sure that bit of a lad has gone to find him? He’s taking a hell of a time to get his arse back here.’ Edmund stood up and hovered over the clerk before looking out of the glass-windowed office down onto the spinning looms and the operators that had no time for anything but concentrating on their jobs, or risk losing a limb or fingers to the unguarded machinery.
‘I assure you, sir, he’ll be on his way. He’s just seeing to the new delivery.’ The clerk put his head down and concentrated on his books as Edmund swore under his breath and went back to his seat in front of the green leather-topped desk that was littered with correspondence and wool samples.
‘Father, what gives me this pleasure? Or, by the looks of your face, is it not going to be a pleasure.’ William closed the door behind him as he sat across the desk from his father.