by Betty Annand
“That’s not reason enough for what they did, but thank you, Gladys. Sure and I think you’re as much of a saint as himself.”
The blacksmith was shocked when Gladys told him that Peter had inherited all of Andrew’s properties, and that she and Dolly had to move. “Sure and we just has a small home, but you and your young one are more than welcome to share it with us,” he offered. Gladys knew he barely made enough money to keep his wife and five children in food and clothing, so she thanked him, and, lying, said that she had a friend in Sandwich she could stay with.
Bob stayed and talked a while longer reminiscing about the good times he shared with Andrew. Then, a look of apology crossed his face as he said, “I hates to mention it, Gladys, but that good for nothing, Peter, came by my shop this mornin’ and wanted to know what horses and buggies I had o’ Andrew’s. I told him that he couldn’t touch any of them until he showed me some official proof they were his. It should be yourself that has claim to Andrew’s two horses and buggy, not him.”
“Thank you, Bob, but everything, even Andrew’s horses, belong to Peter now. I do have a bill of sale for Tig and the shay, so when he comes back do not include them with the rest. Just wait a minute while I find it so you will have proof.” Gladys went back into the house, got the paper down from the top of the china cupboard and took it out to him. “We will be leaving soon, so I shall be by to pick them up.”
Before Bob had mounted his horse, a delivery wagon arrived. One of the two men sitting on the driver’s bench climbed down and inquired if this was the home of Gladys Pickwick. When Gladys said it was, he turned and called out to the other fellow, “Go on, son, get her unloaded.”
The wooden crate he took out of the wagon was about two and half feet long and two feet tall, but by the sounds of the grunts and groans the delivery lad made getting it into the house, it appeared to be fairly heavy. Gladys asked the driver what it was, but he had no idea; so after they left, she asked Bob if he would mind staying to help her open it. He found the tools needed for the job in the back shed then started to remove some of the nails. “I wonder what it can be,” Gladys said, and she called Dolly to come and see the strange container.
“What do you think it is, Mama?”
“I really have no idea.”
“Sure and it’s come a fair way,” Bob said as he read a label on the top of the crate. “All the way from America. Here now, there’s a name on the side. ‘Singer,’ I think it is. It must be some musical instrument.”
Gladys looked puzzled. “I really have no idea, Bob, but the only way we are going to find out is to open it.”
A few minutes later, the crate was open disclosing a sewing machine like the one Gladys had seen exhibited at the fair. “Oh, Andrew!” she exclaimed. “Look, Dolly, Gamby must have ordered the sewing machine from that nice man, Mr Singer, who we met at the exhibition in London.”
Bob thought it was a lovely piece of machinery and was curious to know how it worked, so Gladys found a piece of cloth, threaded the bobbin and the needle then proceeded to sew. Amazed, Bob scratched his head and exclaimed, “Sure and that Singer fellow must be the cleverest bloke in America.”
Before Bob left, Gladys had him re-crate the machine, since they would be moving soon. “Peter is not getting his greedy hands on this,” she vowed.
The following day, she knew she had to have a talk with Dolly and try to explain a few things, because she had begun asking questions. The most upsetting was, “When are we going to have a funeral for Gamby like we did for Auntie Millie?” Instead of making up a false story, Gladys decided to tell her the truth about how Andrew’s wife and adopted children had forbidden either of them to attend the funeral. Then she promised they would visit Andrew’s grave later and have their own little service.
Dolly also wanted to know when they were going to move into Oaken Arms, so Gladys explained that Gamby had died before he had a chance to put the house in their names, and as a result, they could never move into the house, but would have to find another place to live.
Dolly knew that losing Oaken Arms was as sad for her mother as it was for her, so she put a hand on one of Gladys’s cheeks, kissed the other cheek, and said, “Don’t feel sad, Mama; it would not be the same without Gamby there anyway.” They held each other and rocked back and forth, crying.
Gladys decided to go to Hastings to see if she could find a place to live, and if there were any jobs available. She was hoping that a seamstress might hire her if she told her about having a sewing machine. They were ready to leave for the train station the following day when Lady Sorenson arrived. She greeted both Gladys and Dolly with hugs and a great deal of sympathy that turned to tears when Dolly showed her the stick pin and clenched it tightly in her fist to show how Gamby had saved it from the bad men. Lady Sorenson remarked how lucky she was to have such a brave and thoughtful grandfather and received Dolly’s first smile in days.
“Is Lord Cedric with you?” Gladys asked as she went to look out the window after Dolly had gone upstairs to put the pin safely away in a little cedar chest in her dollhouse.
“No, my dear, Rod drove me in. He dropped me off here and has gone on an errand for Cedric. He should be back in an hour or so. How are you and Dolly coping?”
“We are managing to carry on. I think it is harder for Dolly, but even so, I have to admit that she’s more of a comfort to me than I am to her.”
“I can believe that, she is such a remarkable child. I must apologize for not coming sooner, but if I may be frank with you . . .”
“Of course you can, Lady Madeline,” Gladys answered, although she guessed that her ladyship had heard the news, and was afraid of what she was going to say.
“I’m afraid that Cedric thinks you were a bad influence on Andrew, Gladys.”
“Me? A bad influence? My heavens, what on earth did I do to cause him to think such a thing?”
“Well shortly before Andrew left for Ireland, Cedric went to visit him. It seems he had heard that one of our old acquaintances was seen in the company of Andrew’s estranged wife, Rose. Since Cedric knew the man was a gambler and in dire need of money, he wanted to find out if Andrew knew about it.”
“And?”
“I wish I did not have to tell you this, Gladys, but I feel I must. Andrew told Cedric that he was going to give the man a large sum of money to seduce Rose, so he would have grounds for a divorce.”
“That cannot be true!”
“You did not know?”
“I certainly did not!”
“And did you not know that Andrew intended to marry you?”
“I only learned that yesterday when Andrew’s lawyer, Randolph Mansfield, came to see me. He said that Andrew was going to ask me to marry him as soon as he returned. I had no idea he felt that way. I loved him as anyone would love a generous and kind father-in-law, but that is all. In any case, I would have had to say no if he did propose.”
“I knew it! Cedric did not believe Andrew when he said you knew nothing about his plans. Forgive me, Gladys; I should have come to you sooner. Now when are you moving into your lovely new home? The move should help keep your mind off that terrible tragedy a little.”
Gladys felt that she could no longer carry on without confiding in someone; she confessed, “Lady Madeline, we will not be moving to Oaken Arms.”
“What on earth do you mean?”
“What I’m going to tell you now may end our friendship, but I desperately need to talk to someone and there’s no one else to turn to. You see, I am not who you think I am.” Gladys only intended to disclose a little of her past, but telling the truth was so refreshing that she didn’t stop talking until she had told it all, including the incident with Gaylord, the landlord, but excluding her part in Millie’s demise. She finished her confession by telling of Peter’s visit and why she had no recourse but to leave town.
The awk
ward silence that followed caused her to feel she had made a mistake. Finally, she blurted out, “You must think I’m a horrible person, but for Dolly’s sake, please, please, do not tell anyone. If you do, I may be sent to prison.”
“Sent to prison? Oh, you poor dear. In spite of everything you had to go through, you managed to survive. You most surely did. And not only have you survived, my dear, but you have become a beautiful and gracious lady. For that, I salute you!” her ladyship replied. She rose from her chair, took off her beautiful feathered bonnet, waved it across her tummy with a flourish, and bowed. When Dolly came downstairs, both women had their arms around each other and were laughing.
Rod came soon after to pick up Lady Sorenson, and as she was leaving she said, “I wish there was some way I could help, but I do not think that stubborn husband of mine is about to change his mind.” Gladys knew her ladyship was trying to say that she would no longer be welcome as a guest of the Sorensons.
After Lady Sorenson left, Gladys thought it was too late to go to Hastings so decided they would go the following day. She happened to glance out the window just in time to see Lady Sorenson’s buggy pull up in front of the house again. Worried, she ran out to see what had happened. Lady Madeline said she had barely left when she remembered overhearing her housekeeper discussing a friend who had been the housekeeper of a Mr James Hornsby, a well-to-do widower and owner of an estate near the town of Sandwich. The housekeeper had fallen and broken a hip and was not expected to recover. The widower was looking for a replacement, and Lady Sorenson thought Gladys might apply for the position. “I shall be happy to give you a recommendation, dear. What do you think?”
“That is most kind of you, Lady Madeline. If you can give me his address, I shall go there as soon as possible.”
“I will ask Annie and write it down for you. Rod will deliver it tomorrow.”
“A housekeeper’s job would be ideal, if the man is willing to provide accommodation for both of us,” Gladys answered.
“Splendid! Now we just have to pray that the position is still open.”
__________
Gladys was a child of Old Nichol and she instinctively knew that she and Dolly would survive. They had each other and that was all that mattered. Millie had once told her that life is made up of chapters, and, when you finish one, you go on to the next. She didn’t know what waited for them, but it was time to go on to the next chapter.
Acknowledgements
Nancy O’Neill, my daughter and mentor. I couldn’t have written this novel without you.
Mike O’Neill, my son-in-law, for keeping my computer alive.
My son, Danny, and his wife, Karen, for their love and support.
My big brother, for many lunches and love. I miss you, Bruce.
My niece, Lorna White, for her encouragement and love.
My friend, Patricia Piercy. I wish you were still here to say, “I told you so.”
My neighbor, Louise Waterman, for proofreading.
Ken McLeod, for his advice and encouragement.
Gilliian Koster, for believing in my story.
Derek Hanebury, for his advice and encouragement.
To all the staff at Amberjack Publishing, for your expertise, patience, and kindness. Thank you for publishing my novel.
Lastly, the encouragement I received from all my dear friends and relatives while writing this book helped keep me going, and although I don’t have room to mention you all, I want you to know that I am grateful to each and every one of you.
About the Author
Born in Vancouver, B.C. in 1927, Betty Annand has resided in the Comox Valley on Vancouver Island since the age of ten. Widowed since 2002, she has enjoyed doing volunteer work at her church, the local hospital and a local theatre, where she writes and directs plays for the seniors group. She resides in the house that she and her husband built sixty years ago and enjoys spending time with her family, who still live on the island. She is the author of three nonfiction books, Growing up in the White House, Voices from Bevan, and Voices from Courtenay Past. The Girl from Old Nichol is her first novel.
Gladys’ story will continue in the forthcoming release, The Woman from Dover.