Thirty-Four
‘Do you know of anyone who’d come as a dairymaid?’ Mabel asked Jake. He had been working at Middleditch Farm for almost two years and during that time he had longed to ask the missis if Betsy could come and work at the farm, but he had never quite been able to pluck up the courage. ‘Ron’s eldest lass might be all right in a year or two’s time,’ she was saying, ‘but she’s a mite young at the moment.’ Mabel sighed. ‘And I really need someone now.’
Jake grinned at her. For all the sharpness of her tongue, he had become very fond of the missis and the mester too. He was as happy as he could be living with them. It was the closest he would ever come, he thought, to having a real family. He felt – though he could never really know – that they treated him as they might have done their own son, and had treated their daughter, he supposed. Though how, Jake asked himself, Alice Smallwood could have run away from such a kind and loving home, was beyond him.
‘I just might,’ he answered Mabel now as his grin widened. ‘That’s if you don’t mind having another workhouse brat under your roof.’
Mabel stared at him for a moment and then laughed aloud. ‘Well now, I’ll have to think on that ’cos I don’t know if I could put up with another young ’un like you.’ As their shared laughter faded, she said more seriously, ‘What’s she like, this lass you’ve got in mind? ’Cos I can see you’ve got someone. How old is she?’
‘Nearly fourteen.’
She looked at him for a while with her head on one side and her tone sharpened. ‘Got yer eye on her, have you? ’Cos I won’t have any hanky-panky under my roof.’
‘I don’t think of little Betsy like that.’ He wrinkled his forehead. ‘’Spect she’s more like a sister to me than anything.’
‘Mm.’ Mabel sounded none too sure. Little Betsy would grow into a young woman and then what? Still, she could keep a sharp eye on them both. A much keener one, Mabel reminded herself bitterly, than she had on her own daughter.
‘Tell her to come and see me then.’
‘Aw, thanks, missis.’
He turned away as if to go to the workhouse that very minute, but Mabel asked, ‘Who was your mam, then?’
‘Dunno, really.’ He shrugged. ‘Some poor lass who got herself into trouble and I ’spect her family didn’t want to know. That’s if she had any.’
‘What happened to her?’
‘Eh?’ He stared at her, mystified by her question.
‘Well, I mean, did she die? Or – or did she – just leave you there?’
‘Is that – is that what they do? Just – just leave their bairns there? As if they’ve never existed?’ Despite his years in the workhouse, that thought had never entered his mind.
Mabel did not answer him but asked another question. ‘Do you know her name?’
Slowly, Jake shook his head, his eyes still fixed on her face. ‘Never thought to ask. I – I just took it that she’d died having me – or soon after. And I supposed her name was Bosley.’
‘And your father?’
‘Huh! Some bastard who didn’t want to know when he’d had his way. Sorry, missis, but you know what I mean.’
Mabel hid her smile. ‘You’re probably right. And maybe you’re right not to want to find out. But if you ever did, there’d be your birth certificate. I expect the master has it at the workhouse.’
‘Birth certificate?’ Jake looked puzzled for a moment. ‘I’ve heard the other chaps in the workhouse talk about them, but I didn’t know I’d got one.’
‘It’s the law. Every birth, death or marriage has to be registered legally and a certificate issued.’ She glanced at him. ‘If you wanted me to, I could ask Mr Pendleton for it. I’d have a right to see it as your employer. But only if you wanted me to, Jake.’
‘Oh, well. I dunno. I’ve never really thought about it.’
‘Well, if you ever decide you’d like to find out a bit more, let me know. All right?’
‘Mm. Yes, well, thanks, missis.’
‘And in the meantime, go and tell Betsy to come and see me tomorrow afternoon.’
Now Jake was smiling once more.
‘Hello, Dr Collins. What are you doing here? Somebody ill? I hope it’s not Betsy,’cos I might have found a job for her.’
As Jake opened the gate into the workhouse yard, he came face to face with the young doctor on his way out.
Philip Collins smiled and stood aside. ‘My word, Jake, farming life certainly suits you. You’ve filled out in all the right places. I do believe you’ve grown taller too.’
Jake laughed. ‘Fresh air and all that good food the missis piles on my plate.’ He rubbed his stomach and licked his lips. ‘By heck, but she’s a fine cook.’
Philip laughed. ‘I can see that. It’s not a place I have to call very often. They’re too healthy by half.’
‘So who’s ill here then?’
‘Thankfully, at the moment, no one. Oh, the usual sniffles, but nothing serious. No, I – er – came to see my fiancée. She’s only got another month to work here. Miss Daley and I are getting married in six weeks’ time, at the end of August.’
‘Congratulations.’ Jake grinned. ‘I had me eye on her miself. If I’d’ve been a bit older, you wouldn’t have got a look in.’
Philip smiled, knowing that the young man was only teasing. Jake had not an ounce of conceit about him and wouldn’t realize just what a good-looking fellow he had become. His dark brown eyes were the same as ever, mischievous and yet with a depth of compassion for others that had perhaps come about because of his own unfortunate start in life. Jake’s face was still thin, but now weather-beaten to a healthy tan and his brown hair was streaked by the sun.
‘I can believe that,’ the doctor murmured, smiling too, but there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.
They side-stepped each other and were about to say goodbye, when they both turned back and began to speak at the same moment.
‘There’s something you could—’
‘How’s Meg’s mother?
They both stopped and Philip gestured that Jake should say his piece first.
‘I just wondered how Meg’s mother – Mrs Kirkland – is. Is she – is she still with him?’
Philip allowed himself a wry smile. ‘She is.’ He seemed about to say more, but decided against it. Jake nodded briefly. He understood the young doctor’s unspoken words. If the master was taken up with Sarah, he was less likely to be bothering Louisa Daley. And that suited Dr Collins. Now, answering Jake’s first question, Philip said, ‘She’s not too good, really. But I think her problem . . .’ he hesitated, not sure if he should be divulging this to a third person, ‘is more emotional than physical. Oh, she’s not robust at the best of times, but I think she misses Meg terribly. She’s so hurt by Meg’s rejection.’
Jake stared. ‘But – but Meg came to see her, the day before she married Percy Rodwell. She was told that her mother didn’t want to see her. Meg did try. And I tried to see her – Mrs Kirkland, I mean – too. But I got the same answer.’
Philip stared at him for a moment and then let out a long ‘Ahhh’. He was thoughtful for a moment before saying slowly, ‘Next time I see Sarah alone, I’ll tell her that. In the meantime, could you do something for me?’
‘Anything, doctor.’
‘Louisa is also very distressed by her estrangement from Meg. She became very fond of the girl, even though they worked together for such a short time. Louisa has no close relatives now. Her mother died two months ago. She would dearly love Meg to be her matron of honour at our wedding. Would you ask Meg to let bygones be bygones, Jake? It would mean so much to Louisa.’
Jake pulled a face. ‘I’ll try.’ But his tone lacked hope.
Philip nodded. ‘You can only do your best. Good day, Jake. And I hope all goes well for Betsy. She’s a sweet child.’
The doctor turned away and as Jake began to cross the yard Betsy herself came skipping towards him, a happy smile on her face. ‘I saw you from the do
rmitory window. I was making the beds. I don’t go to school any more now, you know. And guess what?’ She jumped up and down excitedly in front of him, clapping her hands. ‘Miss Daley’s asked me to be her bridesmaid.’
Jake smiled at the little girl’s joy. To him, he thought, Betsy would always be a little girl.
‘That’s wonderful.’
‘She’s having such a pretty dress made for me. And afterwards’ – Betsy’s eyes shone – ‘she says I can keep it.’
Jake held out his arms to her and Betsy skipped into them to be enveloped in a bear hug.
‘Now, I’ve got some even better news for you.’
Betsy giggled and looked up at him. ‘Whatever could be better than being bridesmaid and wearing a pretty new dress?’
Jake looked down into her upturned face, into her dancing blue eyes. For the first time he saw how pretty she was, with small, delicate features, perfectly shaped. Her face was too thin and her skin too pale, but fresh air and Mrs Smallwood’s cooking would soon alter that.
‘How would you like to work as a dairymaid?’
Betsy’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Against him, Jake felt her heart thud. Her voice was an ecstatic squeak. ‘With you? At your farm?’
Jake chuckled. ‘It’s not my farm, though I wish it was. No, the missis is looking for a young dairymaid and she asked me if I knew anyone. And I thought of you.’
‘Oh, Jake, thank you, thank you, thank you.’ She hugged him tightly.
‘Hey, don’t thank me yet. You’d only be on trial to start with. And she’s quite a tartar when she wants to be, the missis. Mind you.’ His grin widened. ‘I get on with her all right.’
‘You get on with everyone, Jake. Everyone likes you.’
Except the one person I want to like me, Jake was thinking, but he kept this to himself.
‘You should hear matron going on about you and how she misses you.’ Betsy leant closer and lowered her voice, even though there was no one else in the yard to overhear. ‘You should see her while you’re here.’
‘Of course I will. Come on, we’ll go together and tell her the good news.’ He took hold of her hand, not caring now if the master was watching. At last he was out of Isaac Pendleton’s clutches for ever. But out of habit he glanced up towards the upper-floor windows.
‘You’re quite safe,’ Betsy said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘He’s not here today.’
The smile spread across Jake’s face. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’ll see matron and then I’ll see Meg’s mam. See how she is and then I can tell Meg. I’ve to see her later anyway.’
At the mention of Meg’s name, Betsy let her hand fall away from Jake’s. She stepped back and the sparkle was gone from her eyes.
Thirty-Five
Meg stared incredulously at Jake. ‘She must be joking! Me be her matron of honour? And with that – that child – of all people – as her bridesmaid? Oh no. Never. Never in a million years.’
They were standing in the workroom at the back of the shop, talking in heated whispers for Percy had an important customer in the shop choosing some of the best fabric he stocked to be made into a suit. Ironically, it was for a gentleman who was to be one of the doctor’s guests at the wedding.
‘I don’t understand you, Meg, honestly I don’t. You’re the most unforgiving person I’ve ever met. And whilst we’re on the subject, your mam is making herself ill with worry about you and not seeing you.’
‘I went,’ Meg hissed back, justifying herself angrily, ‘but she didn’t want to see me.’
‘I don’t think that was true. I reckon it was the master who didn’t want you seeing her.’
‘Why?’
Jake shrugged. ‘How should I know?’
There was a pause whilst they glared at each other.
‘So,’ Jake prompted at last, ‘what are you going to do?’
‘Do? What about?’
‘About either of them? Both of them?’
‘Nothing.’
‘So, you’re going to refuse to be Miss Daley’s matron of honour and you won’t go and see your mother?’
Meg stretched her mouth into a sarcastic smile. ‘Correct. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think my husband’ – her accent on the word was unmistakable – ‘requires my help in the shop.’
Jake flinched and stared at her. Where was the lovely girl he had met when she had first come to the workhouse? Where had she gone?
He turned away, sick at heart. Without another word he marched through the shop and out of the front door, slamming it behind him with such force that the bell bounced and the glass rattled.
In the back room, Meg stood chewing her fingernail and fighting back the tears.
Meg did not tell Percy that Miss Daley wanted her to be her matron of honour, but when the card arrived inviting them both to the wedding, Percy was adamant that they should attend.
‘Of course, I don’t know Miss Daley all that well, but the doctor has been very good to me. He was very kind one winter when I was ill. We should go to his wedding when we’ve been invited.’
‘But it’s on a Saturday. We’d have to close the shop if we both went. Why don’t you go, Percy, and I’ll mind the shop?’
Percy pursed his lips. ‘Oh no, my dear, that would never do. It would be most unseemly.’
Meg looked at him, her mind working quickly. ‘But surely you don’t want to go.’ She paused significantly and then added slyly, ‘Won’t Miss Finch be there? And her brother? Surely you don’t want to run into them?’
Percy blinked. ‘Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.’
Meg lifted her shoulders. ‘I’d’ve thought it stood to reason that the doctor would invite them. They’re such prominent figures in the town. Or so we were led to believe, weren’t we?’
Percy looked worried. ‘Well, yes. I suppose you’re right. Perhaps it would be rather awkward if they were there too.’
‘Of course it would. And we wouldn’t want anything to spoil the doctor’s wedding day, would we?’
‘No, no, of course not.’
‘Then I think it better if we politely decline owing to business commitments. They know that the shop is always open on a Saturday.’
‘I suppose so.’ But Percy was still frowning anxiously.
Meg patted his arm. ‘Don’t let it worry you. You can explain to the doctor when you see him. He’ll understand.’
She turned away, a satisfied smile on her lips, knowing that once more she had got her own way.
On the day of the wedding not one customer entered the shop and Percy fretted. ‘We could have gone. We should have gone.’
‘It’s too late now,’ Meg said briskly, carefully folding a pair of ladies’ bloomers. She was amused to see Percy averting his gaze. ‘I expect there are a lot of our customers at the wedding if the number of hats I’ve been asked for this last two weeks is anything to go by. Really, Percy, we should begin to stock hats, you know. We’d do a brisk trade, I’m sure.’
‘Mm.’ Percy’s mind was elsewhere.
‘And it’s so hot today. We never get many customers when it’s such good weather. They stay indoors out of the heat.’
Percy glanced out the window at the bright, sunlit street. ‘At least she’s got a nice day for her wedding,’ he murmured. ‘She’s lucky after all the rain we’ve had recently.’
‘Yes,’ Meg said flatly. Deep in her heart, she was envious of Louisa. The doctor was a good catch and young and handsome too. And he was kind. It would be very easy to fall in love with Dr Philip Collins. Meg’s eyes had a faraway look.
If she hadn’t met him in the workhouse, if she hadn’t been wearing that awful, degrading uniform, then perhaps . . .
‘Do you want to go home, my dear? I can manage here.’
‘Yes, I will.’ Meg dragged herself back from her daydreaming and flashed him a brilliant smile, the smile that had bowled him over and still did. ‘I’ve some shopping I’d like to do and then I’ll go home and cook y
our favourite meal.’
She knew that the day would end with Percy’s awkward lovemaking. But she could always pretend . . .
Back from his honeymoon and looking fit and not so tired as he normally did, Dr Collins called into the shop. Meg hurried towards him and held out her hands. She smiled and kissed him swiftly on both cheeks. Philip seemed a little startled and the colour crept into his face.
‘We were so sorry not to be able to attend your wedding. You do understand, don’t you? It would have meant closing the shop. I tried to persuade Percy to come alone, but he wouldn’t hear of it.’
‘Of course not,’ Philip murmured, his gaze still upon her face, her hands still in his.
She leant closer, sharing a confidence. ‘And it might have been very embarrassing if Miss Finch had been there. We didn’t want anything to spoil your lovely day.’
Before Philip could answer, Percy came through from the back room, a tape measure dangling round his neck, pins sticking out from his lapel. ‘Doctor – Philip – how are you? Did you enjoy your – er – honeymoon?’
Meg pulled her hands away.
‘Yes, thank you. We went to the Lake District. The weather was perfect. It didn’t rain once.’
Percy gave a small, embarrassed laugh. ‘That’s unusual for there, so they tell me. I mean, I’ve never been.’
‘You should go, Percy. Take Meg. It would do you both good.’
Percy shook his head, glancing away. ‘Oh, I – we – couldn’t leave the shop.’
‘I’ve explained to Philip,’ Meg said, forcing gaiety into her tone as, boldly, she used the doctor’s Christian name for the first time – Percy did, she told herself, so why shouldn’t she, as his wife? – ‘why we could not attend the wedding.’
‘Yes, yes, we were very sorry.’
‘We were too.’ The doctor’s glance rested on Meg again. ‘Especially Louisa. She particularly wanted you there, Meg, even if you didn’t feel able to be her matron of honour.’
Without Sin Page 24