by Nancy Carson
‘Just think of it,’ Aurelia chimed in, ‘the prospect of another wedding on the horizon.’
‘Father would have a fit.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘The expense.’
‘But, Harriet,’ Clarence said, laughing at her reaction, ‘a man with seven daughters must expect to be impoverished for the rest of his life, especially if he pays for their weddings.’
‘I don’t recall your father paying for yours, Aurelia,’ Benjamin goaded. ‘I seem to recall that I paid.’
‘I have two retorts to that, Benjamin,’ Aurelia replied haughtily, while he swigged his beer. ‘Firstly, I didn’t want my father’s money, or anything else that was his. And secondly, I believe you’ve been repaid since…with interest.’ She was referring to the small legacy from her late, estranged father, money that Aurelia had been pressed into handing to Benjamin to help prop up his ailing business.
Benjamin flashed narrowed eyes at her in response.
Algie noticed the exchange, for he knew what Aurelia meant by her comment. ‘Have you played much cricket this summer, Benjamin?’ he asked in an effort to diffuse the moment.
‘Too busy,’ he answered brusquely, glancing at Aurelia, for it had been Maude Atkins and the irresistible combination of her horizontal allure and her bed that had kept him busy, not his factory.
‘The team has missed you,’ Clarence admitted generously. ‘I’ve only played a few matches myself but, when I have, we could’ve done with your batting. Other people have said the same. You really must make an effort next season, Benjamin.’
Benjamin afforded himself a smile, but avoided all eye contact. ‘I’d like to, I’ve always loved cricket.’
‘You’d get your place back in the team at once.’
‘I take it then, Clarence, that you’ll be allowed out on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon to play next season?’
‘Of course. Why shouldn’t I be?’
‘Isn’t it a question of Harriet allowing it?’
Clarence, humouring Benjamin, looked at Harriet exaggeratedly and raised his eyebrows to prompt her for a response.
‘Oh, I don’t suppose Harriet will have much say in the matter, Benjamin,’ Harriet herself declared. ‘Clarence will do as he pleases and that’s fine by me. I wouldn’t wish to be accused of restricting him, especially where his cricket is concerned.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Benjamin said, smiling again. ‘But, Clarence, what’s kept you from your cricket when you ain’t played?’ He was fishing. Could Clarence have been clandestinely meeting Aurelia on match days, while he, Benjamin, was doing his extramarital duty with Maude?
‘The only time I’ve not played was when work was pressing,’ Clarence responded. ‘You’ve obviously no idea how much time and effort a chap has to put in to pass his final examinations.’
‘And that’ll continue, even now you’re married?’
‘I shall try not to let work interfere with married life, you can be sure. Nevertheless, with a wife to keep…’
‘Your house is ready now, isn’t it?’ Aurelia suggested.
‘House?’ Benjamin queried, looking from one to the other and wondering how and why his wife would know about a house…unless she’d visited it…
‘Yes, we’re renting a house…for the time being, at any rate. You have to start somewhere, Benjamin.’
‘Yes, course you do. I’m just curious as to how my wife knows about it.’
Clarence shrugged. ‘Well, it’s hardly been shrouded in secrecy. Just part of the parish gossip, I expect. To tell you the truth, I’ve been renting it for quite a while.’
‘It amazes me how Aurelia gets to hear all these things. She gets to hear about everything. I get to hear nothing.’
‘Maybe it’s the company you keep,’ Aurelia replied pointedly.
‘I get to hear gossip, and I pass it on to Aurelia,’ Marigold declared, determined to protect Aurelia. ‘Mostly from Algie, though.’
‘From Algie, eh? But of course, Algie and Harriet were close once upon a time,’ Benjamin added with deliberate crassness. ‘Whereas you, Clarence, were formerly close to Algie’s famous sister, I understand.’
‘We were friendly for a while, yes,’ Clarence replied dismissively.
While Benjamin persisted with his clumsy enquiries, Algie turned to Aurelia in an aside and they shifted a step away from the rest of the group. ‘Why is Benjamin being so damned thoughtless? He’s got a bee in his bonnet about something. Has he been drinking?’
‘Only what he’s had here, as far as I know.’
‘Obnoxious twit. I couldn’t care less about his being aggressive to Clarence, but poor Harriet deserves more consideration. It’s her wedding day, for God’s sake. What’s she done to offend him?’
‘Nothing, I imagine, Algie. But you know Benjamin. Do you think I ought to try and get him to leave before he upsets somebody?’
‘That’d mean you leaving as well. Why should you have to go?’
Her eyes twinkled into his and her lips curled into a lovely smile. Algie’s stomach turned somersaults.
‘No, I don’t want to go,’ she whispered, still looking tellingly into his eyes. ‘I’m enjoying myself. But if Benjamin is going to be objectionable…’
At that moment, Benjamin turned and saw an unmistakably warm look for Algie in his wife’s eyes once more. He wasn’t sure that it meant anything other than misguided admiration, but he’d seen that look before – for himself – in the days before they were married, when she was smitten. But the way Algie was standing…so close to her…too close.
‘Aurelia, it’s time we left,’ he spouted decisively. ‘I’ve got things to do.’
‘Then go,’ she said, embracing the sudden alluring possibility of him departing without her. ‘I’m not leaving.’
‘Blowed if you’re not. You’re coming with me. I’ll drop you off at home. Otherwise, how will you get back? I certainly won’t allow you to walk home alone at night from here.’
‘Such gallantry doesn’t become you, dear.’
‘We can take Aurelia home,’ Algie suggested. ‘We’ve ordered a cab for eleven o’clock. It’s hardly out of our way, and there’ll be plenty room for Aurelia.’
Aurelia beamed. ‘Thank you, Algie. I accept your very kind offer.’ She turned to her husband. ‘So you see, Benjamin, you don’t have to worry about me. Algie and Marigold will look after me and deliver me home safely. So you can go about your business with a perfectly clear conscience.’
Benjamin eyed Algie with a measure of suspicion. Before today, he’d never considered that Aurelia could feel anything for a man as mundane as Algie Stokes, a man who used to be one of his own lowly employees. Yet the prospect of cavorting with Maude Atkins right then was growing in appeal, becoming an increasingly powerful influence. ‘Right-ho…But what if I come and collect you myself afterwards?’
‘What’s the point?’ Aurelia queried impatiently. ‘Why trouble yourself when Algie and Marigold have so kindly offered to take me home?’
He shrugged. ‘Then I’ll see you at home. Cheerio, everybody…’ He made to leave, then turned and put on one of his charming smiles. ‘Oh…thank you for a lovely day, Harriet. You too, Clarence. I wish you both every happiness.’
‘Thank you,’ they said in unison, and took their leave of the threesome that remained.
At that, Robert Sankey appeared, thrusting himself amiably into the trio.
‘Aurelia!’ he greeted, beaming, focusing only on her. ‘At last I get the chance to say hello. How are you? You look absolutely ravishing.’
‘Thank you, Robert, and so do you. It’s been such a long time.’ She smiled radiantly. ‘Let me introduce Marigold, my very best friend, and her husband, Algie Stokes.’
Robert looked directly into Marigold’s eyes with a broad smile, and took her hand. ‘Delighted to meet you, Mrs Stokes.’ He looked from one woman to the other. ‘It’s been a long time since I was in the company of two such beautiful girls at the same time.’
He turned to Algie. ‘Mr Stokes,’ he said, offering his hand, and they shook. ‘Happy to make your acquaintance.’
‘Likewise,’ responded Algie. ‘You’re obviously a friend of Clarence.’
‘I know Clarence – and Harriet – from the Amateur Dramatics Society. I was more of a stagehand, helping out behind the scenes during performances – for a while at any rate. Long before it all collapsed, of course.’
‘Robert is the son of Elijah Sankey, owner of Sankey’s Glassworks in Audnam,’ Aurelia informed them.
‘For my sins,’ he admitted modestly. ‘By the way, did you know the folk from the Amateur Dramatics Society are frantically getting the thing restarted?’
‘Well, they’ll have to do it without the dubious auspices of my late father,’ Aurelia remarked.
‘Oh, indeed. We shall use a different name too. “The Brierley Hill Players” is favourite. With all due respect, Aurelia, we can’t afford to be seen to have any connection with your late father, dear old Murdoch Osborne.’
‘Not if you value your reputations,’ she agreed. ‘Why taint yourselves with his?’
He smiled affably, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and Marigold thought him so appealing.
‘Actually, we are looking for new recruits. We really could do with some good-looking young women. There are some plum parts in the offing. Aurelia…? Mrs Stokes…? You qualify admirably. Do I hear you offering your services?’
‘Oh, it’s not my cup of tea, Robert,’ Aurelia answered. ‘And I certainly don’t think your members would welcome Murdoch Osborne’s daughter. How about you, Marigold?’
‘Oh, I think I might like it, Mr Sankey.’
‘Do call me Robert, Mrs Stokes.’
‘Thank you, I will. And you can call me Marigold.’ Her blush was reignited.
It was the first time anybody had flirted with Marigold since she had fallen in love with Algie, and she was flattered and affected by this handsome young man’s attention.
‘So, Marigold, you might like to join the Brierley Hill Players?’
‘I would…but only if my husband will allow it.’ She glanced at Algie for his approval.
‘Over my dead body,’ he protested.
‘So, Mr Stokes—’
‘Algie,’ Algie interjected, forcing a smile in an attempt to hide his irritation at the man’s presence and his visible effect on Marigold. ‘Everybody calls me Algie.’
‘Very well…Algie. I was about to say, Marigold is exactly what we Players need. Why deny her the opportunity to become involved, even to act, if that’s what she would like to do? I’m sure she’d be outstanding.’
‘It’s the first I’ve heard about any urge my wife might have to try her luck at acting, outstanding or not. My sister was a part of your troupe, and to say it turned her head is a bit of an understatement. I’m blowed if I’ll allow my wife to become involved.’
‘So, is your sister Kate Stokes, by any chance?’ He sounded surprised.
‘You remember her?’
‘I do indeed. Unforgettable. A rather exotic-looking girl. Didn’t Clarence—’
‘Yes, Clarence did. But Clarence was one of the lucky ones. He got away unscathed.’
‘Well, anyway, ladies,’ Robert Sankey said in an effort to extricate himself from what was turning out to be an embarrassing conversation. ‘If you – or your husbands – ever change your minds…’
‘Oh, Algie won’t change his mind, Robert,’ Marigold said resignedly. ‘But we’d both love to come and see one of your plays, wouldn’t we, Algie?’
‘Yes, we don’t mind seeing your plays.’
* * *
Chapter 6
Content that he was about to enjoy some sensuality and tenderness at last, Benjamin was sitting on Maude Atkins’ bed in his long johns, undressing himself by the light of a spluttering candle, as he anticipated the warmth and smoothness of her body entwined with his.
‘So how was the wedding?’ Maude asked, as she pulled her chemise over her head, tousling her curls.
‘Can’t say I enjoyed it much, stuck with that Algie Stokes and his dull wife.’
‘I thought Algie Stokes’s wife was supposed to be a looker.’
‘Yes, I suppose she is a looker…in a plebeian sort of way. She’s still dull.’
In the spartan bedroom of the small house he had provided stood a makeshift wardrobe, a dressing table bought second-hand, and an ottoman, on top of which was accruing assorted articles of Maude’s attire as she divested herself of it. The floor was bare boards apart from two small rugs – one each side of the bed – hand-podged by Maude herself from scraps of material. Even though the house was small, and not what he was used to, Benjamin felt comfortable in it, relieved to be with Maude where he could relax, indulge himself – and be wanted, especially after that wedding circus, peopled by clowns.
‘Aren’t you taking your socks off?’
‘What’s the point?’
Maude meticulously folded her chemise and laid it on the ottoman that stood under the window, netted and curtained for privacy. ‘Did the groom seem happy?’
‘He seemed in good humour, now you mention it. So did his bride. But what he sees in her beats me.’ He stood up and downed his long johns.
‘Clarence knows her better than you do,’ Maude remarked logically, untying the waist ribbons of her drawers. ‘I expect he sees in her something you don’t.’
‘He must do. She’s agreeable company I admit, and said to be virtuous too. But being agreeable and virtuous won’t necessarily make a woman exciting.’
‘Time will tell.’ Maude stepped out of her drawers and stood tantalisingly naked on the opposite side of the bed as he turned to see her.
As Benjamin stepped out of his long johns, she could see that he was already aroused.
‘Time will tell, I daresay,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s hope she keeps him happy.’ He pulled back the covers and sank into the bed.
‘So that he doesn’t feel inclined to pester Aurelia, you mean?’ Aware that this might be the start of a discussion which could delay and even inhibit lovemaking, she pulled back the bed covers on her side and slid into bed, snuggling up to him for the pleasure that his skin against hers afforded, as well as for warmth.
He wrapped his arms around her, welcoming her smooth, warm body. However, this niggling concept, just reintroduced, was pressing in its significance. It diverted him. ‘You know, Maude,’ he said, suddenly more earnest, raising his head and propping himself up by his arm, ‘I don’t think Clarence Froggatt has been pestering Aurelia. I don’t think anything has gone on between them at all.’
‘Oh, come on, Ben,’ Maude protested. ‘You must be mistaken. Or you’re just naïve.’
‘No, I don’t reckon so. I watched them as they spoke to one another at the wedding. There seemed no guile there, you know what I mean? No hint whatsoever in the way they reacted to one another. There was nothing that makes me suspect something’s been going on. Oh, I know they were engaged once, but it’s obvious it’s all water under the bridge. They’re only on nodding terms these days.’
‘You surprise me,’ she remarked incredulously, and gave him a peck on the lips.
‘Why is it surprising?’ He let his hand run down her back, lingering at one fleshy cheek of her small backside, and then he pulled her to him. ‘However…’
‘However, what?’
‘It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s been having a bit of a fling with that article Algie Stokes. There’s definitely something between them. Something too familiar. I watched them. You can see it in the way they are with each other, the way they look at each other. She even kissed him – on the lips. I saw it. A young woman – a married woman – wouldn’t kiss a man on the lips unl
ess she knew him very well, would she? And him with that very pretty wife of his.’
‘You said she was dull a minute ago…and plebeian.’
‘Well, she comes from plebeian stock.’ Benjamin always conveniently overlooked the fact that his own father was less than nothing in the world until he realised he could be what he wanted to be, and made it happen. ‘Her family works the narrowboats.’
‘So what?’ Maude resented the implication – her own family was lowly and working class too. ‘If she’s made something of herself…’
‘Well, yes…At least she doesn’t look like a wench from the narrowboats, I have to admit, but I suppose if Algie Stokes can afford to indulge her regal fancies with his ill-gotten gains…’
‘She’s very likely had some tuition from Aurelia,’ Maude suggested. ‘They’re as thick as thieves, those two, you said. On the other hand, though, would they be as thick as thieves, if Aurelia had been having a fling with this girl’s husband? I daresay there’d be some resentment.’
‘From Aurelia, you mean?’
‘Well, don’t you think so? They’re half-sisters, aren’t they?’
‘Mmm…’ he mused. ‘But if the plebeian little wife ain’t aware something’s been going on, she’s hardly likely to show any resentment, is she?’
‘So…’ Maude gave him another peck on the lips. ‘If you reckon something has gone on, or is going on with Algie Stokes – which I doubt, by the way, ’cause he’s a nobody either, and Aurelia does think she’s somebody special after all – then what do you intend doing about it?’
‘I could always question her.’
‘I suppose you could. Not that she’d admit to anything, of course. But if something has been going on and it could be proved, you would have grounds for divorce.’
‘Divorce? Mmm…Could be messy – and expensive – but I must say, Maude, divorce has a distinct appeal.’ It would be a means of escape, he privately pondered, despite the stigma that might attach to one or other of them as a result. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said, squeezing a pliant breast.