by Anne Brear
A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts. She smiled wearily at Sophia. “I bet that’s Dilys again.” She went to the front door and opened it to reveal a smartly dress woman wearing all black, behind her stood a male servant. “May I help you?”
“I’m looking for Sophia Barton.” The woman was tall and thin with a proud bearing.
“May I ask who is calling?”
“Mrs Ethel Minton, Edward’s aunt and owner of these terraces.” She gave the lane a stern glance as if she was displeased at the fact they belonged to her.
“Eddie’s aunt? Do please come in.” Aurora opened the door wider for her to enter, and noticing Dilys peering from across the road, she waved before following Mrs Minton into the sitting room. The servant remained outside on the cobbles. “Sophia, this is Eddie’s aunt, Mrs Minton.”
“I am so pleased to meet you.” Sophia went to stand, but Mrs Minton indicated for her to remain seated.
“I am not here on a social visit.” Mrs Minton gazed around the room. “In fact I wish I wasn’t here at all, but I had the need to see the woman who brought death to my door. The one who killed my nephew and gave me another loss I must bear.”
“I did not kill Eddie!” Sophia struggled to her feet and immediately Aurora was by her side helping her.
“Fred Godfrey may have plunged the knife into Edward but why was he there in the first place?” She sneered, her eyes narrowing with hate. “Because of you.”
“Sophia had no idea this would happen,” Aurora butted in, ready to escort the woman out.
“She,” a bony finger was pointed in Sophia’s direction, “she is the one, the whore, who captivated my nephew.” Ethel Minton drew herself up even taller. “I knew my nephew was soft on you. He was too soft by half where you were concerned.”
“There was nothing between Eddie and I. We were friends, good friends, nothing more.”
“Nothing more? Don’t make me laugh. He got you into this house, didn’t he? And you pay a lower rent. He gave you work as well. No man does that for a woman unless he expects something in return.”
“That is not true.” Sophia’s lips thinned in anger. “If you knew your nephew at all, you’d not say such malicious things about him. He was decent and kind.”
“Oh, I knew my nephew, I knew he hankered after you because you were once a lady, but look at you now, a dirty whore with—”
“That’s enough!” Aurora stepped in front of Sophia and pointed towards the door. “Leave immediately.”
Ethel Minton laughed a dry cackle sound. “Leave? My own house? Oh, no, that’s where you are wrong. You two are leaving.” The older woman puffed out her chest in victory. “I want you gone, but because I am not completely without honor, I’ll give you two weeks to find somewhere else. If you aren’t gone by that time, my men will throw you out onto the street. And in those two weeks the rent will be at the normal rate. You deserve no favors from me!” With a swish of her black skirts she was gone and in silence they heard the door bang shut behind her.
Astounded, Aurora stared at Sophia. “We have to leave.” She couldn’t believe it.
“In two weeks.” Sophia stepped backwards, feeling behind her for the sofa and gently sitting down. “I’ll have to get a job straight away.”
“You’re not well enough. I will.”
“And you’re pregnant.”
Sophia closed her eyes. “I won’t go back to Edinburgh Yard. I can’t do it again.”
“No, not there.” Aurora shivered. “I might be able to find light work somewhere. I’ll go out first thing in the morning.”
“Even if you get something, we still have to move sooner than we expected.” Sophia’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “We’re not ready.”
“We’ll go to the country.”
“We haven’t the money, not yet, and winter will be upon us shortly. Work is scarce in the country during the colder months.”
Another knock on the door made them jump and they looked at each other worriedly.
“She wouldn’t come back,” Sophia said, glancing out of the window.
“I’ll go.” Aurora once more opened the door, praying it was Lily or Dilys. Instead it was Noah Middleton. “Oh, Noah.”
“Aurrie.” He nodded and slipped off his flat cap. “Lily just told me you brought her home.”
“Yes. She was well enough to leave there.” She briefly smiled into his serious gray eyes. “Come in.”
In the sitting room, Noah stood awkwardly with his back to the fire, gazing at Sophia. “I’m so pleased you’re home, lass.”
“I am too.”
“How you feeling?”
Sophia emitted a long sigh. “Tired, Noah, dreadfully tired.”
He was instantly on his knees before her and Aurora’s heart turned over at the loveliness of it. “What can I get for you, lass?”
“A new home, Noah.” A single tear slipped over Sophia’s lashes. “We need a new home.”
Chapter Sixteen
Aurora walked along the streets of York, head down against the wind. The end of summer was proving difficult this year and warm days would be followed by squalls of rain and blustery winds such as today. Since Ethel Minton’s visit six days ago, Aurora had gone out looking for work and new accommodation. Each day she had come home despondent on both issues. Without a wage they couldn’t look at the better houses, and the poorer areas were the likes of Edinburgh Yard, which she and Sophia were adamant not to go back to. Noah and Lily had spoken as one offering their home to them, but Aurora was reluctant to agree as they’d be on top of each other, especially when the two babies came.
Aside from the anxiety of finding money and lodgings, she had become aware over the last few days of someone watching her. She couldn’t define what made her so sure someone was, but instinct told her she didn’t walk the streets alone. Then, last night, while closing the curtains a stranger lingered in the lane looking at her windows. As yet she hadn’t mentioned it to Sophia, who after the attack was nervous enough and jumped at any loud bangs or sudden shouts. Perhaps she should mention it to Noah, ask him to keep an eye out, and just hope that she was imagining it all.
Her feet throbbed as she turned into Coney Street. The baby kicked, a new sensation that Aurora marveled at in secret joy. She rubbed her stomach and hurried on. She needed to buy some buttons and thread, as Sophia was letting out all her skirts. She’d have liked to buy some linen material too, for a blouse, but every penny had suddenly become precious now neither of them was working.
She passed a tailor’s shop and was bumped into by two men coming out of the doorway. She apologized, even though it wasn’t her fault, at the same time the gentleman did too. Then she stopped and stared. Tom Sinclair stood gaping back at her, open-mouthed.
“Aurrie?” He frowned, puzzled.
She was the first to recover. “How are you, Tom?”
“My God!” Tom enveloped her in a tight embrace and for a moment she relished being held by him. It’d been a long time since a man had held her, and Tom was as close as she would get to Reid. He stared at her in amazement. “What are you doing in York?”
“Shopping.” She smiled brightly, acting as though them bumping into each other was an everyday occurrence. “And you?”
“Oh this and that.” His gaze roamed over her and his grin faltered as he took in her appearance. He’d never seen her in anything but beautiful clothes and neatly groomed. She put a hand to her hair escaping from her felt hat and blushed. He’d noticed her faded clothes beneath her coat, which also needed a sponge and brush. Her shoes hadn’t seen polish for weeks.
Tom turned to his companion. “Hal, my friend, I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”
Hal, a tall, healthy-looking young man winked, a devilish smile in his eyes. “As you wish, my good fellow, but remember we leave on the evening train tomorrow.”
Aurora’s blush deepened, imagining what Hal would think of her. “You should have introduced me, Tom. He thinks
the worst judging by that remark.”
“That’s more exciting than the truth though, isn’t it?” Tom’s smile flashed, but the amusement in his eyes had vanished completely. “There’s a tearoom on the corner. Let’s go.” He took her elbow and so shocked was she to see this serious side of him that she let him escort her into a small tearoom and assist her onto a wooden chair in the corner. He sat on the other side of the square table and lifted his hand to the passing waitress. “Tea and a plate of-of cakes…er…food, sandwiches and the like.”
“Tom, I—” The words dried in her mouth as she saw the agony in his eyes. “What is it?”
“I cannot believe it.” He shook his head and looked as if he was going to cry.
Her heart leapt to her throat and she leaned forward. “Good God, Tom, what?”
“What happened to you?” His voice came out on a whisper.
She sat back in her chair, again conscious of her appearance. “You must be shocked.”
“Shocked?” he squeaked and then clearing his throat, he held his hands out as if in question. “I thought you were travelling with your father’s aunt? That’s what your mother is telling everyone. Is this aunt without funds? Doesn’t your father know—”
“Please, Tom, stop.” She rubbed her forehead, wondering how to tell him, whether she should tell him. “I’m not with my father’s aunt.”
“I don’t understand.” He scratched his chin. “Aurrie, dearest, you look like hell. You’re so thin and…and shabby.”
She wanted to laugh at being called thin, especially when the front fastening corset she’d bought only two weeks ago no longer fitter her. The top button of her blue skirt was left undone and her white blouse strained across her breast, which she hid with her coat, but his expression of horror wiped the laughter from her instantly. Apart from the parts of her body concern with the child, the rest of her was thin, her hands and arms especially. “It’s a long story.”
“And I’ve got all day.”
“But I haven’t.” She stood. “I must go. It was nice seeing you again.”
“No.” He grabbed her wrist and forced her to sit down, causing the other customers to glance in their direction. “Don’t go, not yet.” He let go of her as she sat and the waitress brought over a tea tray, which she set out on the table. Tom watched Aurora the entire time and she knew he was full of questions. “I want to hear it all, Aurrie.”
“Do you?” She pulled off her gloves, revealing her red and work-chapped hands and ignored his gasp of surprise at the sight of them. Dropping a cube of sugar into her cup, she then stirred it slowly with a teaspoon. “I don’t think you want to know, Tom, not really.” She gave him a sad smile, knowing his personality as one of fun and laughter, never taking anything seriously.
“I thought we were friends?”
“We were. When life was simple.”
“Aurrie, please. I can’t bear to see you like this.”
“This?” She waved at her worn clothes. “Good lord, Tom, this is a good day.” Her chuckle was brittle. “We had enough water last night for a bath so I washed my hair…”
“We?” He leaned forward over the table, cradling his teacup in one hand and took her hand in his other.
“My mother, Sophia. We live together.”
“Your mother Sophia?” His eyes widened. “Dearest, are you ill?”
“Mad you mean?” This time she did laugh. “I wish I was, but alas I’m quite sane.” She bent over the table until their faces were nearly touching. “Can you cope with knowing the truth, Tom Sinclair? The man who has never had a moment of responsibly in his life?”
He sat back. “That’s not fair.”
She shrugged, not caring. He didn’t know anything about suffering, of hard work, of struggling to make a life from nothing.
“Something terrible has happened. I can gather that, Aurora. You don’t have to tell me anything more if you don’t want to.”
“You said you wanted to hear it.”
“Not if it upsets you.”
“I don’t think anything could upset me now. I’m immune to all.”
“Aurrie.”
She stared across the room, casually watching the other people at tables. The tearoom wasn’t busy and had plenty of empty tables. The slim, dainty waitress returned with a plate of mixed sandwiches, a stand of delicate pastries and another small plate of slices of cake. Aurora fought the urge to wrap it all up and take it home for her and Sophia to eat later. They were economizing again, trying to save every penny for their uncertain future, and the basic food they ate was simply an energy intake, not a pleasurable pastime.
She studied Tom’s immaculate army uniform for the first time. “I forgot you had joined the army. You look very dashing. What are you doing in York?”
He sipped his tea. “Visiting friends. Distancing myself from Mother.”
“Oh?”
“Since Father’s funeral she has been unbearable.”
Aurora sat straighter. “Your father died?”
“Yes. A week ago. His heart, you know.” He crumbled a triangle of stuffed pastry on his plate. “We buried him in London yesterday. It’s hit everyone hard. I couldn’t deal with the whole situation and jumped on the first train north. I arrived here this morning.”
She closed her eyes at the thought of Reid suffering the loss of his dear father and she wasn’t there to comfort him. “I’m so sorry to hear of it. Mr Sinclair was a fine man.”
“Yes, he was. The best.” Tom glanced out of the window. “We are all trying to comprehend the loss in our own way, but Mother is near insane with grief.”
“How sad.”
“Poor Reid cops the brunt of it all, unlucky sap.” Tom sniffed and sighed heavily. “He’s escaping to New York to get away. He was leaving this morning from Southampton and should be on the high seas by now. Mother has been driving us all demented, but him worst of all. She demands all of his time and energies. He must concern himself only with the family business, the estates, he must hurry up and marry and provide an heir. On and on she is at him. He’s a saint to put up with it. I couldn’t. I don’t.” He gave a snort. “I left the house as soon as I could. I wish the army hadn’t given me leave. It is a coward I am, Aurrie, a blighted coward, who is now a solider sworn to fight for his country but one who runs from his own mother. Ironic, yes?”
Inside, she cried silently at the news Reid was so far away from her, crossing the Atlantic and living his life. Despite her heart beating a tattoo against her ribs at the talk of Reid, she squeezed Tom’s hand, acknowledging his pain. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Tom.”
“I have to be. No one else is and I need to be aware of who I truly am. I can have no false modesty, Aurrie, not anymore.” He crumbled more pastry. “I am a father, don’t you know. A few lines scribbled on a note told me so. A fine boy somewhere. My boy.”
“Oh, Tom.”
“Christ!” He thrust the plate away, scattering crumbs on the white linen tablecloth. “Hark at me. I cannot even be a proper friend. Here we are with you in desperate need of ... of some help and I talk about myself. I have more of Mother in me than I thought.” A look of disgust crossed his face. “I am a useless person, Aurrie. But I think you already know this.”
“Oh stop it, Tom. I haven’t the time to listen to you bleat about how unfair life has been to you. Have you run from home because you are bastard born? No. Did you find out that the person you loved and wanted to marry would be forever lost to you because his witch of a mother found out a family secret? No. Are you carrying a child that will be illegitimate like its mother? No!” She stopped abruptly; aware she’d raised her voice and was nearly shouting at him.
Tom’s handsome face had lost all color. He stared at her. “Oh God, Aurrie.”
Hands shaking, she picked up her teacup and sipped at it.
“You cannot be serious.”
“Of course I would lie about such things,” she said tartly.
“I want to
know it all.” He took her hand and kissed it. “None of these things make you any less in my eyes.” His gaze dropped to her stomach hidden under her coat.
“Yes, I am with child.”
“That’s why you left home?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you living now?”
“Walmgate way,” she hedged, not wanting to fully divulge where she lived.
“Walmgate? In the slums?” He looked incredulous. “I don’t believe it.”
“Neither could I for a while.”
“Tell me about it.”
She nodded and taking a deep breath told him that she’d found out she was illegitimate, about running away, finding Sophia, moving to the lane, even told him about Big Eddie’s murder and now the need for a new home. She took another deep shuddering breath, feeling a little better.
Tom sat back in his chair, absorbing all the details while she selected a beef sandwich and took a bite. “It’s all too amazing, Aurrie. I’m speechless.”
She shrugged and continued to eat, dreadfully hungry now.
“And your real mother, Sophia, she is a good person?”
“Oh yes. Very much so. She’s like my mother…like Winnie, just not as soft I suppose. Sophia’s had to harden up to deal with what she’s been through.”
“Who told you about her?”
Aurora swallowed and took a sip of tea, buying time.
“Can’t you tell me?”
“I don’t think I should.” She wiped her mouth. “Actually, I should be going now.”
“Aurora.”
For a moment he sounded so much like Reid that she jerked in shock. Hot tears gathered behind her eyes and that angered her. She couldn’t be weak and cry. There was no room in her life for tears. But every now and then Tom would look a certain way and remind her of Reid and it broke her heart all over again.
“Who told you and why?” Tom persisted, a steeliness coming into his eyes.
“You don’t need to know.”
“I have a feeling that I do.”