To Take Her Pride

by Anne Brear

  “Why don’t you go upstairs for a few minutes rest?” Sophia said tenderly.

  “I don’t think so.” She straightened in the chair.

  “I just thought—”

  “No, thank you.” The curtness in her voice made Sophia turn away. Aurora rubbed her head, weary of it all. If she had the strength, she would have cried. No, she would have got up and walked away, walked all the way home if possible. She squashed that thought immediately. There was nothing at home for her, except to bring heartache to her family.

  She must have dozed in the end, for she was suddenly awake to the sound of voices. Big Eddie and Sophia stood at the end of the table talking softly. “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing.” Sophia smiled, the relief in her eyes. “Fred is alive.”

  “Good.” Her neck ached and Aurora rolled her shoulders to ease the stiffness from them. The clock above the range showed she’d slept for over an hour.

  “While you were sleeping, Eddie and I got a few things from Edinburgh Yard. We borrowed a cart from a friend of Eddie’s. We thought we could go to the house today. Are you happy with that?”

  “Whatever you wish.” Aurora followed them out and around to the front of the pub to see a cart piled with odds and ends from Sophia’s room. Her own suitcase nestled amongst it all.

  “Sit up with the driver, lass.” Big Eddie hoisted her up before joining Sophia on the end of the cart and they set off along Hope Street. Flo and Ida stood on their doorsteps and gave them a wave while whispering behind their hands.

  Within ten minutes they halted before a short terrace off George Street. The row of five houses on each side were identical to the other. At the end of the cobbled lane was a high brick wall, on the other side of which, Big Eddie told them, were the backyards of the other tenements in the next street. He directed the cart driver to the end of the short lane to the last house on the left. A green painted door was peeling, so too was the white paint from the windowsill beside it and the one above.

  Aurora was conscious of the doors opening to the other houses, of curtains twitching and curious faces peeking out with avid interest. The driver helped her down, an older man who hadn’t spoken to her once. She waited with Sophia while Big Eddie found the right key to open the door from the numerous others he had on a large steel ring.

  With trepidation, she entered the narrow dark hallway of number nine. Big Eddie filled the confined space, and she was thankful when he opened the first door on the left and stepped into the small square parlor. She winced at the mould on the ceiling and walls. Dead ashes filled a poky fireplace and the dirty window facing the lane kept out the weak sunlight. The floorboards were uneven and held not a scrap of carpet. The place smelt musty and damp.

  “Let’s see what the back room is like.” Big Eddie put false merriment into his voice and led the way down the passageway into the kitchen. “It has a range.” He beamed, as though that would make living here the height of luxury.

  “And a scullery.” Sophia injected another positive note, but Aurora couldn’t hide her revulsion and shuddered.

  “Out the back is the lav,” Big Eddie peered out of a tiny filthy window. “It’s all paved, so no mud. There’s a coal house too and a gate leading into a cut that runs along the back of these houses and into George Street.” He turned and rubbed his hands together. Despite it being summer the house was freezing cold as if it had never felt the warmth of the sun or a fire. “Shall we go upstairs?”

  The rooms above repeated the worn, uncared for appearance of downstairs. Two rooms of the same size and containing the same amount of mould and dampness.

  Once downstairs again, Big Eddie went out to help the driver unload the cart while Aurora and Sophia stood in the front room staring at what was going to be their home.

  “I’m sorry it’s not much,” Sophia muttered, wiping a hand across the top of the mantelpiece and finding it covered in thick dust and mouse droppings.

  “Does it matter?” Aurora gazed out of the window not seeing the dirty lane and houses beyond, but thinking of the comfortable home she’d left behind, of Reid and his smiles, the laughter in his eyes. All of it was gone now. She turned to Sophia, pushing away those memories. “Besides, it’s better than being on the street. I could easily have ended up there. I ran away without enough money to see me through. Stupid really.”

  “You weren’t thinking straight, that’s all.”

  “No.” She stopped when the men brought in the iron bed and heaved it up the steep staircase.

  “We’ll have to share the bed, if that’s all right. Until we can buy a new one.” Sophia went to the door. “When the shops open in the morning we’ll go out and buy some things for the house, to make it more homely.”

  Aurora turned away to stare blindly down at the ashes in the grate. Homely? She would have laughed if it hadn’t been so tragic.

  Reid nodded to Tibbleton, the Pettigrew’s butler, handed him his hat and walked into their drawing room. His gut churned in anticipation of seeing Aurora again, but he was also very nervous, like a boy on his first day at boarding school. Why hadn’t she returned his letters? He didn’t understand what went wrong, but he meant to find out. They had planned a future together, so why was she giving him such silence? Had she changed her mind or found another? He could hardly believe such a thought though when she’d been so passionate towards him and the instigator behind their lovemaking. Was that the problem? She had regrets about that night? Was she too embarrassed to face him? He had to talk to her, let her know he loved her no less for giving him her body. He only loved her more in fact.

  “Reid, my dear, do come in.” Winnie Pettigrew smiled, but immediately coughed into a handkerchief. “Do forgive me.” She took a sip of water from the glass on the table beside her.

  “How are you, Mrs Pettigrew?” he asked, though he could see her struggle to breathe normally. He was taken aback by her paleness and the loss of weight since he last saw her. The dark blue of her dress seemed to make her face bloodless. A blazing fire burned even though outside the sun shone brilliantly. He sat as far from it as was polite.

  “Oh, this silly cough stays with me.” She waved her white handkerchief in frustration. “Did Tom’s little party go well?”

  “Indeed. Though it turned into a bigger party than I had been led to believe.” He smiled, still feeling the tired after effects. He’d drunk too much the night before last and didn’t go to bed until long past dawn. He slept the day away because of it, but it had been many months since he’d felt able to relax and enjoy himself. Yesterday, he had attended to estate business for his father and now he was free to spend time with Aurora. “Tom and his friends are still about, and extending the party over days instead of one night. The staff spends each morning righting the house again. I shall have to stop it soon, and be cursed because of it.”

  “Oh dear. It is well and good your mother isn’t here to see it.”

  “If Mother had been here there would have been no party at all.” Reid looked around the neat peaceful room. He always felt at home in the Pettigrew’s house. A warm atmosphere filled each room, something that his mother’s expensive decorations failed to achieve.

  “I’m sorry Josiah isn’t home today. He’s taken the girls into Leeds with him. They will shop and he has some business to attend to.”

  “What a shame. I had thought to go for a ride and hoped Aurora would like to join me? She has gone with them?”

  A nerve twitched in Winnie’s eyelid. She began to cough violently, so much so that he got up to help her and offer a glass of water. Minutes passed before she had recovered her breath. She looked paler and drawn. “I’m sorry, Reid. I am not fit for company I’m afraid.”

  “I will take my leave then. Will you tell Aurora that if she wishes to go for a ride later to let me know? I must return to London tomorrow.”

  “Actually, Aurora is not here. She…she has gone to stay with one of Josiah’s aunts near Manchester.” Winnie didn’t meet
his eyes and she started coughing once more.

  He tried to hide his surprise. “But James saw her the day before yesterday.”

  “She left early this morning. Josiah took her to the station for the early train.” Her cheeks flushed bright red and she coughed again.

  “Will she be away long?” He swallowed the disappointment burning in him. He had missed her by hours!

  “I’m not sure. Josiah’s aunt is of an age where she enjoys and needs company while she travels. Aurora might stay with her for some months. I think they might go to Europe ...”

  “Europe?” He blinked, appalled to think of Aurora being away for so long. How could Aurora leave without telling him, without seeing him? Why didn’t she send him a note to explain what she was doing?

  Feeling something wasn’t quite right, Reid left the house and strode across the gardens towards the dividing gate between the properties. He swore inwardly. His father’s illness and business concerns had kept him in the south far longer than he expected, too long. Damn it! Why didn’t he come straight away when she stopped sending her letters? What kind of fool was he to make love to her and then leave her for months on end! Now it was too late. She probably thought he had used her.

  He dry washed his face in weary frustration. He hadn’t wanted to go back to London without seeing Aurora, and asking her why she didn’t return his letters. However, it was unexpectedly much more complicated than that. Why hadn’t she left him a message? And if only James had told him she was at the house on the day of the party and not forgotten to mention it until the following morning.

  He smashed his fist into his thigh. If Aurora had changed her mind about him then he wanted to know the reason why!

  Chapter Ten

  A door banged somewhere in the street and Aurora jumped. She’d been awake for a few minutes listening to the rain. She turned her head and stared at Sophia fast asleep beside her. She hadn’t heard her come in after finishing work last night, although she tried to stay awake in case of a repeat performance with another Fred Godfrey. But the continual tiredness she felt now meant her night vigil only lasted a couple of hours before sleep claimed her.

  The cold bedroom was dimly lit by the gray morning light. Aurora hurriedly relieved herself in the pot and then dressed, which included putting on her shoes and coat for warmth. She left the room and went downstairs. The fire had gone out in the kitchen overnight and there was no paper or kindling to relight it, not that she knew how to, really. She’d never made up a fire in her life.

  Sophia had bought a few food essentials yesterday evening, but the sight of the pickled onions, hard bread and cheese was unappealing and with no tea to warm her, the swell of hot tears rose. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t stay here!

  She sat on the wooden chair brought from Edinburgh Yard and hugged her coat tighter about her, staring around the ghastly kitchen. It was nothing like the spotless cleanliness of the big warm kitchen at home. There was no Mrs Pringle to cook her bacon and kippers, or eggs and toast. There was no fire and newspaper, no mother to smile at her, no father to discuss matters with. She even missed Bettina and Harriet’s squabbles over which hats they’d wear that day. If only she could go back to that night in the woods. As much as she adored Reid, she wished with all of her heart that she hadn’t taken that final step with him. If she wasn’t with child she could be home now, maybe not happy, but at least safe and with her family.

  “You’re up I see.” Sophia came into the kitchen carrying the piss pot that she emptied down the drain in the back yard. Raindrops glistened on her brown tumbling hair when she returned. “Has the fire gone out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm.” Sophia searched around the kitchen. “Did we use all the paper lighting it last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “I remember, it kept going out, didn’t it? I must have used enough paper and wood to start a dozen fires.” She laughed, but it sounded forced in the stillness of the chilly kitchen.

  “I’m going back to bed.” Aurora left her without another thought.

  Sophia followed her up the hallway. “I promised Big Eddie I’d go in early today to help him with the accounts, but I thought we could get a few things this morning first.”

  “I don’t care.” Aurora climbed the stairs, wishing Sophia would just go away and not come back. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t accept this house as her home or Sophia as her mother.

  “Well, we could leave it until tomorrow, if you want? And then go together before I start my shift.”

  Aurora closed the bedroom door on her and crawled into the bed still warm from their bodies. She snuggled down and closed her eyes. She didn’t care if she never woke up.

  Knocking brought her out of a dreamless sleep. She groaned and turned over, ignoring the noise. It was quiet for a few moments and then the knocking started up again. She kicked at the restraining blankets and realized she still wore her shoes and coat. Pushing her straggly hair back from her face, she left the bed and went downstairs. The incessant knocking boiled her patience. She yanked open the door and glared at the young woman on the step. “What?”

  “Oh!” Alarmed, the woman stumbled back, one hand on her swollen stomach. “I’m sorry.”

  Seeing her condition, Aurora’s inherent good manners made her instantly contrite. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to startle you. You woke me.”

  The young woman, with striking light blue eyes stared unblinking. “Er…I’m your neighbor, from across the road.” She waved behind her, indicating the opposite doorway painted cheery red. “I-I thought I’d pop by and say welcome to the lane.”

  “Thank you.” Though she didn’t feel grateful at all. The rain had stopped, but the gray sky hung low as though ready to send down another deluge. The houses seemed to huddle together dank and grubby and it did nothing to lighten Aurora’s spirits.

  “Me name’s Lily, Lily Bradshaw, but I’m still known as Lily Middleton too. I wasn’t married long you see…”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mrs Bradshaw. I’m Aurora Pettigrew.” She felt embarrassed by her unkempt appearance and hid behind the door, while trying to pat down her hair and straighten her rumpled blouse.

  “I’m home alone during the day, so if you need anything, just pop along.” Lily smiled, transforming her thin face into something quite lovely.

  “Thank you.”

  “Would you like to come over and have a cup of tea? I’ve just made a current cake.” At that moment Aurora’s stomach grumbled in response and Lily laughed lightly. “Me dad has the same response to me cooking.”

  Aurora couldn’t help but return her friendly smile. “I would like that, however I…” Again, she put a hand up to her ruffled hair. “I’m not fit for company.”

  “Nay, don’t worry about that. You’ll only be sitting in me front room, not on ceremony for the queen, God bless her.”

  “I don’t know.” Aurora peeked up the lane, noting that the miserable weather kept people indoors.

  “I’ve got a nice fire going.”

  The cold and moisture from the house seeped through her clothes and Aurora nodded. Tentatively, afraid the neighbors would see the state of her, she hurried across the cobbles with Lily, her face warm from embarrassment, knowing that her clothes were creased and she hadn’t washed in a long while. “Please excuse my appearance. I’m not looking my best. We haven’t any water or…”

  “I told you, it’s fine.” Lily dismissed her concerns and ushered her past the red painted door and into number 10. At once Aurora sensed the difference between the two houses. Lily’s home, though sparingly furnished, was warm and bright. White washed walls, greenish brown carpet, cheap paintings, ornaments on the polished sideboard, lace curtains at the window, a cheerful fire and a well-worn sofa and chair created a snug feel.

  “Please sit down.” Lily gestured to the chair by the fire, one hand tucking up her black hair which had escaped from its bun. “I’ll bring in the tea things.”

/>   Aurora sat and stared around. Two miniatures, a man and a woman enclosed in small wooden frames, stood in pride of place on the mantelpiece. A black shawl lay over the corner of the sofa and a few books and a newspaper were on the floor by the chair she sat on.

  “Here we are.” Lily placed the tray on a small table near the fireplace. “It’s not much, I’m afraid.”

  “It’s better than I could make myself.”

  “It’s nice having new people in the lane.”

  “You have a nice home.”

  Pouring out the tea, Lily glanced up with a shy smile. “Me mam was a proud woman. She lived here all her life and woe betide anyone mucking up her house. Me Dad learned that lesson soon after marrying her.”

  “So you live here with…” She accepted the teacup, noticing hers was the only one with a saucer.

  “Just me Dad now, he’s called Noah Middleton. We lost Mam two years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. And your husband?”

  The light died from Lily’s eyes. “I lost him four months ago. He worked on the river barges.”

  “How awful for you.” Aurora sipped her tea, savoring the sweetness. Sophia always forgot to buy sugar because she didn’t use it herself, but Aurora missed having sugar in her tea.

  “It was and still is hard to think of meself married and widowed within months.”

  Aurora wondered how Lily’s husband died, but etiquette prevented her from asking. She knew from one discussion with her father that two rivers, the Ouse and Foss, were like veins splitting the city of York and via them trade and industry thrived.

  Lily brightened. “And your family? I saw a lovely-looking woman leave your house this morning.”

  “Oh…er…that is my-my…” Aurora swallowed past the lump in her throat. “That is my mother, Sophia.” There she had said it out loud for the first time. It felt wrong, foreign on her tongue. She put down her teacup, frantic that Lily would ask more questions. “I’m sorry. I really must go. I…er…”