Poor Milly looked so crestfallen that Kitty hugged her and promised impulsively, ‘I’ll try to bring you back something nice.’
She was rewarded by her sister’s face brightening considerably. ‘Oh Kitty, will you really?’ She flung her arms about her neck and said ecstatically, ‘You are the best of sisters and I am going to miss you so much.’
Kitty hugged her in return but her only thought was, How on earth am I going to be able to buy her a present from foreign parts when I’m not even leaving the country? But all she said was, ‘Goodbye, Milly. You be a good girl for Mrs Grundy and give me mam and dad and everyone my love when you next go home on your Sunday off.’
Milly, easy tears brimming her eyes, nodded and then added, ‘But you’ll see Dad at the station, our Kitty. He’ll see you off on the train to London.’
Kitty stiffened and a tremor of fear flooded through her again. That was another thing. They were not going to London, but in the opposite direction entirely. Kitty groaned inwardly and her mind began to race. Whatever could she do?
Then she found herself enveloped in Mrs Grundy’s ample embrace. ‘Tek care of yarsen, lass. I’ll look after Milly, dun’t you fret.’
‘I know you will, Mrs G.’ Kitty hugged the plump woman with genuine warmth. ‘And take care of yourself.’
‘I will, lass, I will. Now off you go. The master and mistress are waiting at the front and Bemmy’s brought the car round. Go and fetch Miss Miriam down, else you’ll miss ya train.’
As Kitty went into the hall, Miriam was descending the main staircase. Her face was white and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. She was wearing a close-fitting travelling costume and, to Kitty’s knowing eye, the fabric around her waist was already creasing into stretched folds around her thickening body. Inwardly, Kitty sighed. We’re leaving not a moment too soon, she thought, and held open the door for Miriam to pass through.
‘Come along, girl,’ came Mr Franklin’s loud voice. ‘And for Heaven’s sake – cheer up. You’re going to have the time of your life and let me tell you, there’s a lot of young gels would give their eye teeth to be in your shoes. Going round the world. And a pretty penny it’s costing me.’
Kitty cast an anxious glance at Miriam and saw the sudden flash of anger in the green eyes, saw her look at her father as if she was about to speak.
Kitty touched her arm and whispered, warningly, ‘Miss . . .’
The girl bit her lip and shot a swift, grateful glance at her maid. Now the tiny smile on her mouth was tremulous and she seemed close to tears. Miss Miriam hardly looked as if she was setting off on the trip of a lifetime, Kitty thought wryly.
The family settled themselves in the rear of the vehicle and Kitty climbed into the seat beside the driver. As Bemmy swung the handle and the noisy engine shuddered into life, Kitty glanced up. At a second-floor window, she saw the pale face of Edward.
‘Look, miss, Master Edward’s waving goodbye to you.’
Kitty twisted her head to look at Miriam, but her young mistress neither spoke nor even looked up and, as the motor car leaped forward, only Kitty waved her hand to the lonely figure at the window.
Twenty-One
‘Two first-class tickets to London, my man.’ Mr Franklin’s voice echoed along the platform as he bent towards the man in the ticket office.
Kitty saw Mrs Franklin and Miriam exchange a glance and guessed that they had not given a thought to the fact of which train they would have to board for the sake of keeping up the pretence. Kitty went to stand beside her mistress. In a low voice she said, ‘It’s all right, madam. We’ll just get off further down the line and travel north from there. No one will know.’
‘Thank you, Kitty,’ Mrs Franklin murmured, her lips scarcely moving, and Kitty could see the relief on her face.
‘Now, how long’s this wretched train going to be?’ Mr Franklin demanded as he rejoined them. ‘I’ve matters to attend to, you know. I need to find Thorndyke . . .’
Kitty felt her whole body stiffen and, beside her, she heard Miriam give a little gasp, but, blithely unaware, Mr Franklin continued. ‘He’s still on the estate somewhere and there’s a tree needs felling before he leaves the area.’
Kitty felt her heart begin to pound and a flush start in her neck and creep up into her face. Beside her, Miriam stood rigidly still and, stony-faced, stared directly ahead.
‘Here, you.’ Mr Franklin was beckoning someone standing further down the platform and Kitty saw her father turn and walk towards them. He was a thin, dapper man, with sharp eyes behind steel-rimmed spectacles. A drooping moustache hid his mouth and his nose was a little too bulbous for the size of his face.
‘Ah, good morning. Clegg, isn’t it?’
‘It is, sir. Fancy you remembering.’
Kitty gasped at the undisguised insolence in her father’s voice. Her own moment of discomfort forgotten, she watched the two men and to her surprise, it was the master, not her father, who seemed ill at ease.
‘What time’s the London train due?’ he was asking brusquely.
John Clegg made a great play of pulling out a gold watch on the end of a chain from the pocket of his uniform waistcoat. ‘Ten minutes – sir.’ His glance went to his daughter. ‘Kitty, you’ve time to go and say goodbye to your mother.’
Kitty almost gasped aloud. She would not have dared to ask such a thing, good though her mistress was. She cast an anxious glance towards Mrs Franklin.
‘Very well, Kitty,’ she said graciously. ‘But, please, don’t be many minutes.’
‘No, madam. Thank you, madam.’ She picked up her skirts and ran the length of the platform towards the station house.
‘Mam, Mam . . .?’ she called, bursting through the back door.
‘Why, Kitty, whatever’s wrong?’
In a rare moment of weakness, Kitty felt the overwhelming desire to fling herself into her mother’s embrace and pour out the whole sorry story of Miss Miriam’s disgrace, of her own heartache caused by the same man and the reason for their hasty departure. Instead, she clamped down the feeling and said brightly, ‘We’re off on a trip, Mam. Me and Miss Miriam.’
‘A trip? Where to? How long will you be gone?’
Kitty swallowed. This was the first deliberate lie she was going to have to tell. At the Manor, the rest of the staff, even her own sister, had heard the news of their proposed tour from the mistress. All Kitty had had to do was go along with it. But now it had to come from her mouth. She licked her lips, suddenly dry. With a forced brightness, she said, ‘A Grand Tour, no less, but don’t ask me exactly where we’re going, ’cos I don’t know.’
‘A Grand Tour? Kitty, how wonderful for you. Oh, the sights you’ll see. You are a lucky girl.’
‘Aren’t I just?’ she said and hoped the bitter irony was not noticeable in her voice.
‘How long will you be gone?’
Now she could be truthful. ‘I’m not sure. Six or seven months at least.’
‘Six months! Heavens!’ Betsy Clegg threw her arms wide and hugged her eldest child to her. ‘I’ll miss you, our Kitty.’
‘I’ll miss you, Mam,’ Kitty said, her voice muffled against the woman’s shoulder. Oh how much, she thought silently, you’ll never know.
‘I’ll come and see you off.’ Linking arms they left the house, but as they stepped on to the platform, Kitty saw Mr Franklin waving and shouting, ‘Come along, come along, girl. The train’s due.’ At her side, she felt her mother stiffen.
Turning to look at her, she saw that Betsy Clegg was staring down the platform towards the Franklin family. ‘Oh, I didn’t realize . . .’ she began and Kitty could not help but notice a tremble in her voice. ‘The whole family has come to see you off. I should have thought – should have known. And your father’s there – with them. Oh dear.’ She pulled her arm away and turned. Swiftly, she hugged Kitty and for a moment held the girl’s face between the palms of her hands. ‘Take care of yourself, love. I must go.’
‘Whate
ver’s the matter, Mam? It’s only Mr and Mrs Franklin. Surely . . .?’
‘I can’t tell you now. Some day, maybe some day, I – I’ll explain.’
Kitty saw her mother glance back just once down the platform towards the Franklins. For a moment her gaze was caught and held by something, and when Kitty, too, followed the line of her mother’s look, to her surprise she saw that it was the master who was standing perfectly still and silent now, just staring back at them.
‘I – must go,’ Betsy Clegg said and though Kitty said again, ‘Mam . . .?’ her mother turned and hurried away.
As the train pulled in and the porter and Bemmy loaded the trunks into the guard’s van, the two girls climbed into a first class carriage.
John Clegg, still hovering nearby, stepped forward. ‘You don’t mean the two girls are travelling alone, Mr Franklin?’
The master turned. ‘Yes. They’ll be quite safe. They’re being met in London . . .’ He turned towards his wife. ‘At least, I suppose you have arranged all that, Amelia?’
Mrs Franklin inclined her head. ‘Everything has been organized.’ She smiled at the stationmaster. ‘You need have no fear for your daughter’s safety, Mr Clegg.’
The little man sniffed his disapproval and Kitty, listening from the carriage window, cringed at her father’s pomposity and his daring. ‘Well, I should hope not.’
Kitty bit her lip. Her father thought they were merely going to London. If he should hear that it was a supposed Grand Tour, then . . .
The engine gave a great spurt of steam and John Clegg stepped back, checking up and down the platform, his mind now on his duties. There was a sudden flurry of last minute activity. Goodbyes were called, a whistle sounded and the train began to move. As it gathered speed out of the station, Kitty sank back in relief.
‘What are we going to do about being on the wrong train?’ Miriam said suddenly.
‘Simple. We’ll get off at the very next station it stops at and catch the first one going north.’
‘Will there be a train going north?’
‘Oh yes, miss. This London train stops at Harthorpe at eleven twenty and the northbound one comes through there at eleven forty-three. Lucky I’ve spent me life near the railway, ain’t it, miss?’
Miriam’s left eyebrow rose slightly. ‘Oh absolutely, Clegg. What would we do without your superior knowledge?’ Then her scathing tone changed completely as she said, ‘How I wish we could stay on the London train.’ A look of wistfulness crossed her face and then suddenly her expression brightened. ‘Couldn’t we, Kitty? Couldn’t we stay on this train and go to London?’
‘You know we can’t, miss.’
‘Just for a few weeks, Kitty. No one would know and I could at least have a bit of fun before – before I start to show.’
‘No, miss. Your mother has arranged it all. We’re going north.’
The girl slumped back against the seat. ‘You’re a spoilsport, Clegg. I’ve a good mind to go anyway. I’ve got my ticket. You can’t make me get off this train.’
Kitty looked at the petulant pout of Miriam’s mouth. ‘If you do that, miss, you’ll go on yar own.’ She paused and then added firmly, ‘And I – will go straight back to the Manor.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
Quietly, Kitty returned her stare. ‘Oh yes, I would, miss.’
Kitty watched as Miriam sat hunched in the corner seat, her pale face turned towards the window and yet her eyes glazed as if she was seeing nothing. She looked such a picture of abject misery that for a moment Kitty felt a real pang of sympathy for the girl. Then a fresh thought suddenly struck her. It could be me running away to hide my shame. It could be me carrying Threshing Jack’s child. Maybe it would have been better if it had been, she pondered, recognizing that she was, despite all the problems and the disgrace, the tiniest bit envious of Miriam. I haven’t so much to lose as Miss Miriam and maybe, just maybe, Jack would have married one of his own kind. Maybe he would have married me.
The switch to the correct train, heading north to York, was made quickly and easily and there was no one at that station who would recognise them.
They were silent on the journey and Kitty had plenty of time for her own thoughts. It was very strange, she realised, that she felt no animosity towards Miriam because she was carrying the child of the man she, Kitty, loved. I ought to be hating her, Kitty thought in surprise, but I don’t. If she hated anyone, it was Jack Thorndyke. Hated and loved him and still, despite everything, wanted him. Part of her was thankful – oh, so very thankful – that she had not fallen pregnant and yet, deep in her heart, there was a niggling jealousy that it was Miriam who was carrying Jack Thorndyke’s child. Kitty sighed inwardly. Her emotions were so mixed up that she didn’t quite know what she did feel. All she knew was that, sitting opposite Miriam Franklin, she didn’t hate her. She was sorry for her and maybe cross that the girl could have been so stupid. But, Kitty acknowledged wryly, she, too, had been just as foolish.
Oh Jack Thorndyke, you’ve got summat to answer for an’ no mistake. An’ one day it’ll all catch up with you. You see if it don’t, because I’m going to be the one to make sure it does.
‘Why do I have to be dressed from head to toe in black and wear this stupid little black veil?’ Miriam asked petulantly, standing in front of the long mirror in the hotel bedroom.
They had broken their journey in York and, on dressing the following morning, Kitty had laid out the clothes that Mrs Franklin had insisted Miriam should wear from now on when they went out.
Patiently, she explained. ‘Your mother wants you to pretend that you are a young widow whose husband has just been drowned at sea. Oh, I almost forgot . . .’ She fished in a tiny pocket inside the handbag Mrs Franklin had given her. ‘Here, you must wear these too.’
‘What?’
Kitty held out her hand with two rings resting in the palm.
‘I can’t wear those, Kitty. They’re my Grandmother Franklin’s engagement and wedding rings.’
Kitty shrugged. ‘I don’t know nothing about that, miss. All I know is that your mother said you were to have them and wear them.’
‘But they’re too good, I mean . . .’ The girl gulped and faltered. Glancing at her sharply, Kitty was amazed to see tears shimmering in Miriam’s eyes. ‘Whatever would Grandmother have said if she knew I was wearing her rings and – and wasn’t married?’
Kitty was surprised to find the girl did, after all, have some conscience about the feelings of others. But then, she reminded herself, she had already seen another side of Miriam’s nature from the selfish, spoilt girl of indulgent parents. She was truly concerned for her brother. There could never be any mistaking the genuineness of Miriam’s love for the invalid Edward.
‘I shouldn’t worry, miss. It’s what your mother wanted you to do.’
‘Just so long as my father doesn’t find out the reason I am wearing his mother’s rings,’ the girl murmured, as she slipped first the gold band and then the ring with a cluster of diamonds set with a sapphire in the centre on to the third finger of her left hand.
Perhaps I was wrong, Kitty thought, disappointed. Maybe her fears are more for herself should her father find out the truth than any qualms about wearing her grandmother’s rings to hide her shame.
‘Come along then, miss,’ Kitty said, forcing a bright cheerfulness she did not quite feel. ‘The motor taking us to Robin Hood’s Bay is waiting outside.’
Miriam stood still. ‘Where? Where did you say?’
‘Robin Hood’s Bay, miss.’
‘I’ve never heard of it. Where is it?’
‘On the coast, miss. It’s a little village.’
‘A village? You’re not serious? I’m not going to be buried away in a village.’
‘But your mother—’
‘My mother!’ Miriam flung her arms wide. ‘My mother. That’s all I seem to hear from you, Clegg.’
Kitty stepped closer and said slowly and deliberately, ‘Your mothe
r has been wonderful over all this. And you ought to remember it.’
Miriam’s green eyes flashed. It was the first spark in them that Kitty had seen during the last few days. Her mouth pouted and she leaned towards Kitty and said slowly, ‘Don’t preach at me, Clegg.’ There was a malicious glint in her eyes as she added, ‘I aren’t in the mood for it.’
Far from being intimidated, Kitty threw back her head and laughed aloud. ‘That’s better, Miss Miriam. I was beginning to think you’d lost all your spirit. I’m pleased to see you ’aven’t. Come on, now. Time we was going.’
‘I’m not going to some god-forsaken village, so you can think again. Oh Kitty,’ she said, grasping the girl’s arm, ‘let’s stay here. In York. I know it’s not London but . . .’
‘Your mother said Robin Hood’s Bay and that’s where we’re going. Everything’s arranged.’
‘But why? Why on earth can’t we stay here? Nobody knows us in York, for heaven’s sake.’
Kitty stood her ground. ‘Yes, they do. Didn’t your mother say the Hardings had some friends who live in York?’
‘How ridiculous! As if we’re likely to meet them in a city this size.’
The argument raged on for another ten minutes, but in the end Miriam followed her maid down the stairs and out to the waiting vehicle. But the look on her young mistress’s face would, as Mrs Grundy would have said, turn a milk pudding sour.
At the thought of the motherly cook, even the stouthearted Kitty suddenly felt a moment’s homesickness.
And as for Jack Thorndyke, well, she dare not even think of him at all.
Twenty-Two
‘Well, if you think I’m staying here, you – and my mother – have got another think coming.’
‘But, miss, it’s lovely. Just look at the sea and the cliffs and all the birds and look – oh do look – at all the little houses. It’s as if they’re sitting on top of each other.’
The tiny village of Robin Hood’s Bay nestled in a wide cove between two headlands. The houses, built on the steep incline leading down into the bay itself, did indeed look as if they were tumbling over each other, huddled together on either side of the steep, winding road that led down to the beach.
Chaff upon the Wind Page 14