Salem Street

by Anna Jacobs

  All the time he was thinking about Annie, he was talking to the man on the bed and noting his responses. There wasn’t really much he could do. Brain damage was one of the most difficult things to treat. Doctors knew so little, really, and tampering with the human brain had such serious effects that most doctors left it strictly alone, even after accidents. Jeremy did, however, manage to take the gin bottle away from Charlie and persuade him to take a sleeping draught instead. He waited until his patient was snoring gently, then he went downstairs.

  “You can get rid of this.” He handed Annie the half-empty gin bottle with a grimace. “I’ve given him a sleeping draught and I’ll send Sam round with some more.”

  “Thank you, Dr Lewis, but don’t trouble Mr Peters. My brother can come and collect it.”

  “There’s no need. And, anyway, Sam lives right next door. Why shouldn’t he bring it?”

  “I – I’d much rather he didn’t,” she insisted, embarrassed.

  “Why not, Annie?”

  She closed her eyes for a minute. What could she say? “We – we’re not on good terms, sir. It was – it was Matt Peters that I was going to marry and – and I’d rather not …” Her voice broke and with it, her iron self-control.

  He came across the room and gently sat her down in the rocking-chair, then felt her pulse.

  “You’re feeling the strain. Sit down for a minute and close your eyes. No! I insist!”

  She did as she was told and gradually the colour came back into her cheeks. He sat there quietly in the other chair and watched her. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered. The last few months had set character into what had been merely girlish prettiness. How long her lashes were and how creamy her skin! He realised that he’d like to touch that skin, not as a doctor, but as a man. It was a long time since he’s wanted a woman as a person. His body had its needs, but since he’d been in Bilsden his worsening relationship with Annabelle had soured him for other women’s company. He remembered suddenly the comfort he’d found in Mary, his mistress in Brighton. Her kindness had been a balm to his spirit. There’d been no one permanent since. He wondered for the first time in years how she was getting on.

  Annie opened her eyes, gave him a half-smile and let out a deep sigh. “I feel better now. I was upset, and I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  He smiled back at her. “You must look after yourself too, you know. Annie – forgive me, but I didn’t realise that you’d had to make such – such an unequal marriage.”

  She looked at him warily.

  “He’s quite an old man. And you must realise that he can never be a husband in more than name. You’re young and healthy. You should be thinking of a family and a life together – not of tending an old man.”

  “Everyone says that to me,” she told him in a flat, emotionless voice, “but young men weren’t queuing up to wed me. You told me that it’d be murder to get rid of the baby – and I came to see that you were right – but you didn’t tell me what I was to live on, or how I was to keep my child afterwards!” Her voice rose a little.

  “I should have come to check that you were all right. I was going to give you some money, help you myself. Then I heard – my wife told me – that Pauline Collett had found you a place. I assumed that you’d be all right. Miss Collett has a reputation for charitable acts.”

  Annie gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Oh, yes! She’s very charitable. Five pounds a year and all found. You can’t keep a baby on that!”

  “No, I suppose not. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken about it. It’s not my business any more.”

  “No, it’s not! But I’ll tell you something anyway, doctor. Charlie’s a good man. He’s kind and he works hard and he wants the baby. And I couldn’t have married him if he’d wanted my body, too. I don’t want any man to touch me again!” She shuddered at the memories this raised.

  Like her father, Jeremy shook his head sadly. “That’s a great pity, Annie, because the love between a man and a woman can be very beautiful. You’ve only seen the worst of it so far.”

  “Yes, well, I’ll manage without the rest, thank you. Now, how much do we owe you?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does! We can pay our way. Charlie’s not as daft as folk think. He’s a good provider.”

  “Very well. That’ll be two shillings, please. And a shilling for the sleeping draught.”

  He took his leave of her, but was back the next day in person with a large bottle of milky liquid. He went to examine Charlie, who was lying half-dozing in bed, then came down and gave Annie the bottle. “It has to be measured carefully. It’s very strong. Show me your spoons? Right. That one. Two spoonfuls when an attack starts, one twenty-four hours later and if that doesn’t do it, call me in. That’ll be another five shillings for the medicine. It’s expensive, but it’s worth it. I’ve left your name and the details with Mr Tyndell, the new apothecary in the High Street, so that you can buy more bottles when that one runs out.”

  “Thank you.” She handed him the money, then said impulsively, “Won’t you sit down and have a cup of tea, doctor? I’m sorry if I was a bit sharp yesterday. I was tired.”

  He smiled warmly at her.

  He had a lovely smile, she thought. It made him look rather boyish.

  “If that’s a peace offer, Annie, I’ll be happy to take you up on it. I’m always ready for a cup of tea. And I’ll even admit that I shouldn’t have spoken as I did.”

  She bustled round, brewing some of the good tea and getting two cups from the shelf. They didn’t match, but they were clean and they were real china, not the heavy pots or tin mugs that most people in the Rows used. She also produced some little cakes, which he ate with relish, biting into them just as her brother Tom did. Fancy comparing a gentleman like Dr Lewis with her brother!

  Before he left, he made her promise to let him give her a check-up once or twice before the baby was due. “There won’t be any charge for that,” he said firmly, “because you’ll be helping me to learn more about women and childbirth. We have to study normal pregnancies, as well as problems.” She didn’t like to refuse, because he seemed so set on it, but the idea of seeing a doctor when you weren’t ill seemed strange to her.

  The only real problem during the first month or two in Number Eight was Matt Peters. Annie did her best to avoid him, keeping to the house at those times when he was likely to be going to work or coming from it, but it was inevitable that they should meet occasionally. The first time that he turned his head away and muttered the word ‘whore’, she couldn’t believe her own ears and stopped dead in her tracks, cheeks flaming. By the time she’d pulled herself together, he was out of sight.

  The second time she met him, she was better prepared, and when he treated her in a like way, she barred his path. “You’ve done enough harm to my life, Matt Peters,” she said. “If I hear you saying such things about me again, I’ll take legal action against you!” She hadn’t the slightest idea what legal action was or how to take it, beyond going to see a lawyer, which no one she knew had ever done. It was just a phrase she’d heard Mrs Lewis use, but it seemed to serve her purpose now. She had the satisfaction of seeing his mouth drop open as she said it. She followed it up with, “And Dr Lewis has already spoken up for me about the attack, so I don’t suppose I’ll have much trouble in defending my good name. I’m a respectable married woman now, and don’t you forget it!”

  “Married! To that!” He jerked his head scornfully towards Number Eight. “It’s disgusting!”

  “Don’t you talk about my Charlie like that! He’s more of a man than you are!”

  His face was as white as hers was red. “Well, I wish you luck of your bargain!”

  “Oh, Matt,” she said softly and sadly. “What’s done is done. Can’t we forget the past and be – polite, at least?”

  For a moment it seemed as if her plea had touched him, then his mother came out of Number Seven and he swung away down the street. />
  Mrs Peters stood on her doorstep and looked down her nose at Annie. “You’re wasting your time with my Matt! He knows better than to get mixed up with your sort again.”

  Annie looked her straight in the eyes. “I was just telling Matt,” she said slowly and distinctly, “and I’ll tell you, too. If I hear that anyone’s been blackening my good name, I’ll see a lawyer about having them stopped. Dr Lewis has been very kind to me. I’m sure he wouldn’t like to think that Mr Peters’ family were going round spreading lies about me.”

  Elizabeth Peters fell back before that threat. Even after years of Sam being in continuous employment, she still had nightmares about him losing his place.

  Annie turned and walked slowly up the street with her bucket, feeling weary and old. All she wanted was to live in peace and make enough money to feel secure! She’d accepted her new life and the fact that it didn’t include Matt. She might not be able to banish him from her dreams, but that didn’t hurt anyone except her, did it? Why did he hate her so? Why did he keep trying to hurt her?

  Matt couldn’t have said why he was behaving like that. He had tried to accept the Lord’s will and to bury himself in his work, encouraged by his mother, who hovered over him and fussed till he could have screamed at her to leave him alone. His father was deeply disappointed in him, he knew, though Sam said little. It was just that every time Matt saw Annie in the street, looking as fresh and lovely as ever, something boiled up inside him and he wanted to hurt her, because losing her had hurt him so much, because in spite of everything she was managing without him and because he, too, was tormented by dreams of what might have been.

  17

  July to August 1838

  Pauline Collett and Saul Hinchcliffe did not announce their engagement until July, because she knew what a nine-day wonder it would be. Annie had heard of it from Miss Collett herself beforehand, but kept her own counsel. She had received several more calls, and had grown used to the visitations now. Pauline, who said quite frankly that she admired what Annie was doing, would leaven a round of tedious calls upon humble, grateful women from Saul’s flock with a visit to Number Eight. Annie was not humble or grateful, and her sharp perceptive comments on the poorer members of the congregation made Pauline laugh.

  She would sail along the street, nose in the air, ignoring the smells and debris, followed by the stable boy with some offering for Annie, tactfully chosen not to give offence – a newspaper or a book or a bag of precious oranges.

  The second time she came to visit, Pauline insisted on being shown all over the house. She rapped on the thin walls, poked into corners and demanded to be told exactly how one made a living from such rubbish. Sammy, banished at first to the yard, whined and growled at her through the door, but when Miss Collett grew tired of this and herself let him in, he instantly recognised her as a superior being and abased himself before her, tail wagging tentatively. To Annie’s astonishment, Miss Collett gave him a pat or two, before telling him firmly to go and sit in the corner now whilst she talked to his mistress

  After a while Annie began to enjoy the visits. Pauline was as different from Mrs Lewis and her friends as chalk from cheese. One day, when her visitor was in a particularly good mood, she plucked up the courage to ask her what was the best thing to do with a sum of money one had saved. Should one put it in a bank or one of the new friendly societies, or should one do something else with it, like perhaps buy a house? That was what Sally had done with her savings, for ‘my Harry’ continued to be more than generous with her.

  Annie didn’t really like the idea of banks. She hadn’t quite worked out what they did with their clients’ money, but Darton and Forraby’s new bank on High Street looked so imposing that she couldn’t dismiss it out of hand and had several times made an excuse to walk past in order to peer into its mahogany and marble interior. As for friendly societies, she wasn’t a member of any group which ran one, and again, was rather suspicious of someone else handling her money.

  “I suppose by that question you mean that your husband has some money put by?” asked Miss Collett, never one to beat about the bush. “How much?”

  Annie hesitated.

  “Come, come, Annie! If you don’t trust me, why mention the matter in the first place? Besides, I’m hardly likely to try to steal your money, am I, and I give you my word that I won’t mention it to anyone else. But if you don’t tell me how much, I can’t advise you.”

  “Well – there are over two hundred guineas.” Even to say the sum aloud made Annie look round nervously.

  Pauline blinked in surprise. “That much!”

  Annie could only nod.

  “Lying idly in some box, I suppose?”

  Annie’s flush betrayed the accuracy of this guess.

  “Then it’s a good thing that you mentioned it to me. You must definitely invest it in property. Buy a house!” She looked round disparagingly. “Not like this place! The rents wouldn’t be secure enough.” She saw Annie’s puzzled expression and tried to explain. “Nearly all the people in this street and in most of the Rows are very poor. They depend on the mills, so if the cotton trade is slack, they’ll find it hard to pay their rent. With the amount of money you have, you’ll be able to buy a nice pair of cottages, with gardens, the sort that overseers or clerks live in. People like that don’t have as much trouble with paying rent as the people in this street, for example. I presume you weren’t thinking of moving elsewhere yourself?”

  “Not at the moment, not while this one is rent-free.” An image flashed into Annie’s mind of the sort of house she and Matt had planned for and she closed her eyes for a moment to shut out the pain.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Oh – yes, miss. Just – just the baby moving.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right? You look quite pale.”

  Annie pulled herself together. “Oh, yes. I’m fine now, thank you. Please go on.”

  “Well, as I was saying, property is the thing for you, I’m sure. You must buy a house, maybe two.” She took Annie’s consent for granted. “I’ll introduce you to my own lawyer. You should always deal through a lawyer, Annie. They make sure that everything is in order. You can’t be too careful.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Miss Collett consulted a little gold fob watch. “No time like the present. I have an hour to spare. Change your dress and we’ll go to see my lawyer now. Put on that blue dress you wear to chapel. And bring the money with you. How can you bear to leave it lying around? Someone might steal it and then you’d have lost your big chance in life.”

  Bewildered, feeling as if she were being dragged along by a runaway horse, Annie went upstairs and changed her dress. Then she got the box out of its hiding place, but before she went downstairs she took ten guineas out and hid it among her clothes. She wanted to be prepared for any emergency. You never knew what could happen. She didn’t ever again intend to be left without a good sum in cash to fall back on. When she returned to the kitchen, she found Miss Collett reading a book.

  “Yours, I presume?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  “Are you enjoying Ivanhoe?”

  “Not really. I don’t understand enough of the words – or the background. But I don’t get much choice. Charlie brings home books people have thrown away and I try to read them. Lamb’s Tales From Shakespeare was the best, though it had some pages missing.” She flushed. “I know it was written for children – but I’m like a child when it comes to book learning. One day, perhaps I’ll know enough to read Shakespeare himself.”

  “You’re a strange girl, Annie Ashworth. Have you always lived in Salem Street?”

  “Yes, miss. Except when I was in service.”

  “And where did you learn to read?”

  “At the chapel.” She wasn’t going to mention Matt and those early lessons. She mustn’t think of that any more.

  “It’s amazing!”

  “What is?”

  “Your intelligence – and the way yo
u use it. Most girls in your condition would have given up. Instead you marry a man old enough to be your father, a man everyone calls ‘Barmy Charlie’, and it turns out that he has money saved. Did you know that when you married him?”

  “Oh, yes! It was one of the main reasons. That and the way he wanted the child.”

  “Admirable!”

  Annie followed Miss Collett along the street and into her carriage, which was waiting in Boston Street. She enjoyed the luxury of the short drive to the better part of the town and was quite sorry when they stopped in front of one of the large houses on Market Street, one with a shiny brass plaque on the wall beside the door.

  Miss Collett led the way inside and upstairs to the offices of Bromford and Pennybody. A clerk received her with flattering deference, but stared curiously at Annie, in her simple gown and with an unmistakably pregnant body. He offered them chairs and went into another room, reappearing almost immediately. A rotund gentleman with a rosy face was following him and beaming at Pauline. It must be wonderful, Annie thought, to be so important that people made a fuss of you. She watched with great interest as the gentleman clasped Miss Collett’s hand with all the familiarity of an old acquaintance.

  “My dear Pauline! This is an unexpected pleasure. Do come into my office! May I offer you a cup of tea?”

  Miss Collett interrupted the flow of words. “Thank you, no. I haven’t time today. Jonas, may I introduce Mrs Ashworth, one of my fiancé’s congregation. It’s she who has need of your services, not I. Annie, this is Mr Jonas Pennybody, my lawyer.”

  Like his clerk, Jonas was a little surprised by Annie, but he gravely shook hands with her before shepherding them both into his office, where he settled them in two comfortable upright armchairs which smelled of polish and old leather, before taking his place behind a big, untidy desk.