A Long Way from Heaven

by A Long Way from Heaven (retail) (epub)

  It was very dark. People passed him, laughing, singing, forming a chain with their partners. He watched them as they wound a detour around him as he swayed on the spot. Their action made him dizzy.

  ‘Well, ifit isn’t Johnathon!’ The heavily-painted face materialised from a darkened doorway, its owner linking arms with his. ‘How about a spot of fun, Johnny?’

  He tried to recall her name. Johnathon was the pseudonym he gave to the street girls if they should bother to ask. She had obviously encountered his custom before.

  He put a massive hand up to her breast, which was almost hanging out of the gawdy dress, and squeezed. ‘Not tonight, my dear, thank you. As you see I am a little indisposed. It would be rather like trying to raise Lazarus.’

  ‘’Ere, you’ve changed your tune, yer randy old devil!’ she shrilled. ‘I wouldn’t’ve let yer get away wi’ that if I thought yer weren’t gonna buy. Yer wouldn’t go into a shop an’ squeeze the bleedin’ tomatoes then walk out without payin’, would yer?’

  Roland grimaced and fumbled in his pockets. ‘How odd,’ he mumbled, patting each pocket in turn. ‘I could have sworn…’

  ‘Oh, Christ,’ muttered the woman. ‘How many bleedin’ times ’ave I heard that one? Yer cheeky swine, if yer ain’t got no money yer can go jig yerself.’

  ‘Ah.’ Roland eventually found a coin that had escaped the pickpockets. He held it to his eyes to find out its value, but the woman quickly snatched the sovereign and thrust it down her cleavage.

  ‘Cor, thanks, Johnny.’ She patted his cheek. ‘You can feel ’em any time!’

  Roland raised his hat and stumbled on. The streets seemed to be lined with women who had made his acquaintance, calling, ‘Now then, Johno, give us a kiss!’ Or ‘Come up an’ show us yer testimonials.’

  He smiled politely, remembering none of their names. How ironic to know so many women yet there was not one among them whom he could call a friend.

  The bridge arched its back at his shuffling feet. He stopped and leaned over the abrasive stone, stared down into the blackness. He ran his teeth over his furred tongue. The taste was appalling. What was he doing getting drunk? He never got drunk. It was all that silly girl’s fault that he felt like this. Well, he would show her! He would show her exactly what she had done to him. What would her feelings be when she read about it in the newspaper? ‘Today, the body of a man was found floating down the Ouse’ … no, that was not right. How long did bodies stay down for? Was it three days? Never mind, she would know when she read those words that it was Roland, and it would serve her right, throwing him over for a soldier.

  He peered slyly to his left. There was only a young couple, and so engrossed were they in themselves that he doubted they had even noticed his presence. What a pity – perhaps he should wait till he got an audience, for he wanted it to make a big splash in the newspaper. Oh, very droll! he chuckled. Big splash, what?

  He turned to his right. Further along the bridge a solitary woman leaned in the same stance as himself, as if she too were contemplating suicide. Maybe they could do it together, he thought stupidly. A lovers’ pact. He screwed up his eyes. There was something familiar in the way she held her head, cupping her hands to conceal her face.

  At that moment, sensing his gaze, she turned her face to him and his heart leapt. ‘Tommy!’ he cried joyfully and began to lumber towards her.

  She stood upright, thinking, hoping, that it was Patrick. Her optimistic smile faded as he staggered up to her. ‘Oh, hello, Roly. Yer look as if yer’ve had a drop too much.’ She leant over the bridge again.

  ‘More than a drop, I fear,’ he stuttered, and touched her arm, not believing it was really Thomasin. ‘Goodness gracious.’ He brushed aside her hair. ‘What has happened to your face?’

  She turned down her mouth and the cut on her lip cracked open. ‘Patrick found out about you an’ me,’ she said simply. ‘He’s thrown me out.’

  ‘Oh, heavens!’ he exploded, forgetting all about the girl. ‘Who told him?’

  ‘Your dear wife,’ she answered wryly.

  ‘But… but how did this come about?’ asked Roland. ‘I mean, she did not know for sure that you were… and how did she match the two of you together? How did she come to meet your husband?’ the questions poured out.

  Thomasin told him how his wife had cut off Erin’s hair, and how Patrick had gone storming up to the Cummings’ house to seek retribution. ‘How could you ’ave let her do it to that poor lass, Roly?’ she said reproachfully.

  ‘I had no idea that it was so bad,’ breathed Roland. ‘I realised of course that Helena had taken a dislike to the child, but the extent of her torment escaped me. I am rarely at home, you see.’ It seemed a lame excuse. ‘I would never have allowed it had I known.’ The poor little scrap. To have suffered such indignities at the hands of his wife. ‘Why, I could kill her!’

  Thomasin disregarded the startled looks from passers-by. ‘That’ll not do any good.’

  He calmed down a little. ‘Do you know, it is odd but not five minutes ago I was contemplating killing myself.’

  ‘Ditto.’

  ‘Not you?’ He took hold of her hand and gently squeezed her fingers. ‘You are not the type to go and do a silly thing like that.’

  ‘Why not?’ She stared down at the long, artistic fingers that intertwined with hers. ‘I’ve nowt to lose now. No husband. No children.’

  ‘But surely,’ he said, ‘surely you explained to him your reasons for doing what you did?’

  ‘Oh, aye. But he didn’t see it the way it was meant. Patrick thinks I’ve been cuckolding him ever since we were married. He won’t believe that it was only the once, as if it mattered,’ she sighed. ‘I’m all mixed up, I can’t think straight. All I can think of are them bairns. I’ll never see ’em again, God help me.’ There were no tears, just a resigned gesture of despair.

  ‘Thomasin, it was all my fault,’ said Roland. ‘If I had given you the money without… you know. But I could not help it. I love you, Tommy. Oh, to have ruined your life is too much for me to bear.’ The alcohol still mingled with his blood, making his thinking totally irrational. With an astonishingly agile movement for one so drunk, he leapt onto the parapet and prepared to jump.

  ‘Roly, stop!’ Thomasin tried to grab hold of him. ‘Don’t be a fool. Yer drunk. Yer wouldn’t even be dreamin’ o’ doing this if yer weren’t.’

  ‘Oh, now you have made me feel worse,’ he wailed, swaying dangerously. ‘I must go, it is the best for everyone.’

  Seeing that she was making no impression, Thomasin altered the tone of her voice. ‘Roland, come down ’ere at once! You know very well that you ’ave no intentions of jumpin’.’

  With a hangdog look he sat on the parapet and lowered himself back to firm ground. Putting his arms around her he begged her to forgive him.

  ‘’Course I forgive yer, yer soft old devil,’ she said dispassionately, ‘but yer’ve got to promise me that yer won’t do owt stupid like that again.’

  ‘But you were going to,’ he protested.

  ‘Nah.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘Like you said, I’m not the type. Though Lord knows what I’m gonna do now.’ She fell against him and cushioned her head on his broad chest.

  And this was how Patrick saw them as he scoured the town for her that night. During the time it had taken him to reach the city centre, he had come to the conclusion that, while she had wronged him terribly, life without her would not be worth living. He had decided to forgive her, even though he would never be able to forget her betrayal. He loved her, needed her… that is, until he saw them there, holding each other. How could he guess that she was in Roland’s arms only for comfort? All he could see was a man and a woman locked in a loving embrace; that everything she had screamed at him in her defence had been lies. After all her protestations of love she had finally gone slinking back to her lover. He backed into the shadows, unable to tear his eyes away as the man rested his chin on Thomasin’s scarlet head. Patric
k wanted to kill him.

  ‘Where will you go?’ Roland was asking her.

  She shrugged. ‘To my parents, I’ve nowhere else.’

  There was a tiny hesitation, then Roland said, ‘If you like we could perhaps…’

  She looked up sharply. ‘Oh, no, Roly! I’m sorry, I just couldn’t.’ Lord, the man would never alter.

  He nodded sadly, then kissed her. ‘I understand – but if ever you should need me…’ How foolish; they both knew that she would never need him.

  Patrick did not see them break apart and go their separate ways. Broken of heart and spirit, he had already gone home.

  Chapter Fifty-four

  The city at night was full of noisy people, jeering and laughing, pushing and fighting. Erin remained close to the wall and walked as fast as her legs would carry her to the other side of town, stifling a scream as filthy fingers clutched at her from a doorway and pulled the bonnet from her head. She ran on, before whoever it was could kill her to steal her clothes as well.

  It was with great relief that she reached the Cummings’ house and slipped noiselessly through the kitchen door.

  ‘Blinkin’ ’ell – where you been?’ hissed Alice. ‘There’s been a right to-do over you – an’ where’s my hat? Oh God! I told yer what’d happen, Cook.’

  ‘I’m ever so sorry, Alice,’ replied Erin soulfully. ‘Someone attacked me.’

  ‘Aye, there’ll likely be another one will, too! Oh, you are careless – that was a good hat that was. What’s happening then?’

  ‘I’m not to come here any more,’ Erin told her. ‘I’ve only come for me harp.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ wailed Alice. ‘Don’t tell me I’ve got it all to do on me own again. Can’t you even help wi’ them pots before yer go?’

  Erin shook her head, disregarding her ugly haircut; there were other things on her mind. ‘I daren’t. Me dad’ll kill me. I’m not meant to be here at all.’

  Alice smirked at Cook. ‘Aye, he’s a bit of a lad by all accounts is your dad, isn’t he?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Erin, and attempted to push past Alice.

  ‘Oh, come on. I was there. I saw him an’ the mistress going at it, hammer an’ tongs. I thought he were goin’ to give her a right good brayin’. Callin’ her all sorts o’ pretty names he was.’

  ‘I tell ye, I know nothing,’ said Erin. ‘And if he was then ’tis only what she’s had coming to her. Now, would ye mind moving outta me way so’s I can get me harp?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ prevaricated Alice. ‘What do you think, Cook? I say we don’t let her go till she lets on.’

  ‘Oh, please, Alice, just leave me alone.’ Erin suddenly burst into tears.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ Cook hurried over to comfort Erin. ‘The poor little girl’s got enough to contend with. Leave her be.’

  Alice rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, s’truth, I didn’t mean owt, honest. Eh, come on, Erin.’ She tugged at the edge of Erin’s shawl. ‘I’ll come with yer to fetch your harp. An’ I think you’d best have a word wi’ Miss Caroline while we’re there. She’s been going frantic ’cause her ma’s gone an’ told her you’re not comin’ back.’

  As Alice led her away Cook mouthed the words. ‘Try and find out what’s gone off.’

  Together Alice and Erin climbed up to the attic and retrieved the harp. Then the Irish girl went to say goodbye to Caroline. She paused briefly outside the schoolroom, running her eyes over the bookshelves, feeling a great ache that she would not be coming here any more.

  ‘Oh, Erin! I knew you would come back!’ Caroline leapt from her bed where she had been crying into her pillow. ‘Mama has been saying such horrid things about you. She told me you are not to live here any more, but it isn’t true, is it? You will not leave me?’

  Erin did not know how to break the news gently so gave it to Caroline straight. ‘I’m sorry, but it is true. I just came back to fetch this.’ She touched her harp.

  ‘But why? Why?’ sobbed her friend. ‘You promised that you would never leave me. You are the only friend I have. Except for Alice of course,’ she added politely to the other girl, who stole nervous glances down the stairs.

  ‘I know what I said, an’ I’m sorry,’ replied Erin. ‘But I cannot go against my father. Anyway, I can’t bear to stay in this house any longer.’

  ‘It’s all the mistress’ fault,’ volunteered Alice boldly. ‘It was her who caused all this trouble, cutting Erin’s hair an’ upsetting her dad.’

  This time Caroline did not bristle at the condemnation of her mother.

  ‘Yes, I can understand that your father would be upset when he saw your hair,’ she granted. ‘But surely after things have cooled down…’

  ‘’Twasn’t just the hair,’ said Erin. ‘He came storming up to your house to see the mistress and they had a big row. Alice heard it, didn’t ye?’ She looked at Alice who nodded eagerly.

  ‘What was it about?’ asked Caroline.

  Erin glanced uneasily at Alice and said cagily, ‘Well, I don’t really know. But whatever she said it must’ve been something awful ’cause… ’ she faltered.

  ‘Oh, don’t stop now,’ begged Alice.

  ‘Well, not that it’s any of your business,’ said Erin. ‘But… he’s gone and thrown me Mam out.’

  ‘He hasn’t,’ breathed Alice. Wait till she told Cook. What a to-do!

  ‘Anyhow, now ye know why I have to leave,’ said Erin, moving to the landing.

  Caroline followed her, crying and begging for her friend not to leave.

  ‘I have to,’ insisted Erin, tucking the harp firmly under her arm. ‘I’ll be sorry to leave ye, Caroline, I’ll miss ye something terrible. But I have to go.’ It was true, she would miss Caroline. But oh, she would miss the lessons a great deal more. Caroline was a nice girl when she wanted to be, but Erin had come to understand the wisdom of her father’s warning. Rich and poor, the two did not mix.

  The noise of Caroline’s distress finally brought Helena from the drawing room and she positioned herself at the foot of the stairs.

  ‘What is the meaning of all this noise?’ she demanded. ‘And what is that girl doing up there?’

  It was Caroline who answered. ‘Oh, please, Mama, do not let Erin go away. I love her.’

  ‘Love?’ spat Helena. ‘Are you out of your mind? How can one possibly love a despicable creature such as she? A common guttersnipe who has caused nothing but trouble from the moment she entered this house.’

  ‘What a terrible thing to say!’ Caroline’s face was mottled and tear-stained, her blonde curls tangled from rolling about on the pillow. ‘Erin is my friend. I will not allow you to speak about her like that.’

  ‘Caroline, have you completely lost all sense of reason?’ answered Helena. ‘And please will you kindly desist from shouting and come down this instant.’

  ‘I won’t!’ said Caroline obstinately.

  ‘Comedown this minute!’ snapped Helena, then: ‘Benson, do not stand there gaping like a fish. Bring my daughter to me.’

  But as Alice tried to take Caroline’s arm, the girl leapt nearer to Erin and clung to her, crying and shouting.

  ‘Caroline, if I have to come up then it will be the worse for you!’ Helena set her mouth and watched as Alice coaxed Caroline to release the Irish girl.

  ‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘I shall illustrate just what happens to people who disobey me. You are to receive a whipping, my girl!’

  ‘Please let go,’ whispered Erin urgently as Helena advanced up the stairs.

  ‘No, I won’t let go!’ shrieked Caroline, her eyes wild. ‘Stay away, Mama. Erin was right all along and I was too blind to see it. You are a horrid, horrid woman. I hate you!’

  Helena had by now reached the top of the staircase. ‘Caroline, you are becoming hysterical. You do not know what you are saying.’ She paused uncertainly, not knowing the best way to handle this highly-strung girl. Caroline could spoil all her
plans if she chose. Helena fought down the impulse to smack that stupid face, and attempted a motherly gesture. ‘Come, we will forget about the whipping, you are not yourself and do not know what you are saying. Please, Caroline, allow the girl to leave. I am sure that you will find many more suitable friends when you go to Miss Dearly’s Academy for…’

  But the mention of school exacerbated the matter. ‘I won’t go! I won’t!’ screamed Caroline. ‘I want to be taught by Miss Elwood.’

  ‘You are being unrealistic, Caroline,’ said Helena. ‘Do you not remember that Miss Elwood has left us?’

  ‘Yes, I do remember! You sent her away. You send everyone away whom I love. I hate you!’

  Helena could control herself no longer. ‘I suppose it is you who has taught my daughter to behave in this disgusting manner?’ she accused Erin, who was trying to calm Caroline. ‘Well, you shall see how I deal with people who disrupt my life. Benson, take Caroline to her room and lock the door. She will remain there until she can behave in a more respectable fashion.’

  ‘No!’ screeched the girl as poor Alice tried once more to detach her from Erin.

  Annoyed at Alice’s feeble attempts to separate the girls, Helena joined the struggle. She tried to wrestle Caroline free but Erin’s harp, to which the Irish girl clung protectively, got in the way.