by Annie Groves
Gideon wondered what it was that gave the Barclay sisters such an elevated idea of themselves. In the town’s social pecking order, Mary had ranked a good couple of rungs higher up the ladder than Amelia Gibson. However, there was no disgrace greater than that of a young woman bearing an illegitimate child, and he, as that child, must carry the same stigma! In the eyes of the town’s matrons it was better that he should be thought of as Mary’s secret lover than her son, and he knew that if Amelia knew the truth she would consider that she had even more reason to shun and ostracise him!
‘Henry, please try to understand I have to go and see Connie,’ Ellie pleaded across the dining-room table. She had had to wait until Henry had returned from business to tell him of her shock at receiving a tear-stained letter from Connie, begging her sister to help her, and to send her some money, and going on to give her the even more shocking news that she had left their aunt and uncle’s home and was presently living in rented accommodation secured for her by ‘a friend’.
‘Connie would not have written to me if she was not in the direst of circumstances. I have let her down so badly in the past, Henry, I cannot do so again.’
‘Ellie, you must not go. You must not leave me here alone with my father. I cannot bear it if you do,’ he told her wildly.
‘Henry, it will not be for very long,’ Ellie soothed him. ‘I shall get the train in the morning and I shall be back before dinner. You will be working, and I shall be home before you return. I must see Connie, Henry,’ Ellie told him desperately. ‘She needs my help.’
Henry was giving her a peevish look that made her heart sink.
‘Henry, I must go to Connie,’ Ellie persisted pleadingly. ‘I cannot let her down again.’
Henry was refusing to answer her, and had not asked her one single thing about Connie or what had happened.
Of course, the moment she had read Connie’s letter Ellie had telephoned her Aunt Simpkins, and received the angry disclosure that Connie’s ‘friend’ was probably the most unsuitable young man she had been seeing in direct disregard of her aunt and uncle’s wishes.
‘He is a young Irishman of the wildest kind of reputation, and a Catholic!’
Ellie’s heart had sunk. Whilst, in the main, Catholic and Protestant families in Preston lived amicably with one another, the two religions were strictly segregated and their respective clergy frowned upon them leaving their own faith to marry members of the other, and for Connie, from a strict High Church Protestant family, to have anything whatsoever to do with a young man who was a Catholic was extremely shocking. Protestant girls knew that the only thing Catholic boys wanted from them was the sex they would never be allowed with good Catholic girls, and, because of that, good Protestant girls naturally refused to have anything to do with Catholic boys.
Unhappily Ellie studied her husband’s hunched back. She had to help Connie. And, if necessary, she would go to Preston to see her without Henry’s permission!
Ellie’s head was aching when she got off the train in Preston. Henry had refused to speak to her over breakfast, and had left for the office in a huff.
They were having the hottest August Ellie could remember, and she could feel the perspiration trickling between her breasts as she hurried through the dusty heat of Preston’s streets.
All the newspapers were carrying warnings that there were soon to be strikes, and she could see the sombre groups of men huddled together here and there, obviously deep in serious discussion. Ellie had every sympathy with the men, although she would never have dared say so in her father-in-law’s presence.
As she hurried through the streets, Ellie recognised that the town had a sullen, sulphurous atmosphere about it which, at any other time, would have alarmed her. This was not the Preston she knew and loved. Trickles of angry-eyed, grim-faced men and women had begun to percolate through the streets, and a crowd was gathering in the market area, but Ellie was too concerned about Connie to pay them much attention. Ellie skirted past the market as she headed for the area close to the docks where Connie had written that she was now living.
As she drew closer to the docks area, Ellie wrinkled her nose fastidiously at the pungent smell wafting along the street, and then gathered her skirt close in to her body with a small gasp as she saw the grey shadow running along the gutter. A rat!
It couldn’t be much further now, surely. The streets had become narrow and more squalid-looking, and as she walked past a group of children squatting on the pavement, she heard the clatter of the handful of small stones one of them had thrown after her. Children’s foolishness, that was all, and yet suddenly she felt threatened and vulnerable. Deliberately she refused to quicken her pace or show any panic. Preston was her home. She had grown up, if not in these particular streets, then those of Friargate and Fishergate and the market area. She was a Prestonian through and through, just the same as those urchins glowering sullenly at her, and proud to be one!
Grimly, Gideon looked at the faces of the two young people standing in front of him. The last person he had expected to see when he had called at the property his mother had rented out, to find out why the rent had not been paid, was Ellie Pride’s sister Connie, and still less had he expected to see her with Bill Connolly’s nephew Kieron.
Connie’s face was streaked with tears, her expression one of fear and defiance, her hands wrapped possessively and determinedly around Kieron’s broad forearm as she stood close to him.
Kieron, on the other hand, a sturdy six-footer with a shock of overlong dull black hair, a stubborn jaw and a dangerous temper, looked uncomfortable and ill at ease.
‘Look, Mr Walker, don’t say anything to me uncle, will ye? I mean about us being here, like.’
‘It won’t need me to tell him, for him to find out that you’re shacked up here with a Protestant, will it, Kieron?’ Gideon pointed out bluntly. ‘And when he does find out…’
It was no secret that Bill Connolly ruled his children and those of his brothers with his belt, and that no child of his or theirs was too big or too old to feel it against their backsides if he felt that they deserved it.
Gideon had walked into the Connollys’ kitchen one night to talk business with Bill only to find his eldest daughter bent over a chair, her naked buttocks exposed and already livid with bruises and stained with blood, screaming her head off whilst Bill wiped his belt clean and cuffed her head, whilst telling her not unaffectionately, ‘Ah, stop yer noise now, our Maureen. Sure, and you know you had it coming to ye, and ye got off lightly ‘cos I’ve got a soft spot for ye, God help me. But when the priest comes round and tells me that he’s heard a rumour that a daughter of mine has been fornicating…’
‘I wasn’a, Da. I wasn’a,’ Maureen had sobbed. ‘He’s telling lies. He’s a dirty rotten liar, that Father O’ Malley. All the girls know what he’s like, always slipping his hand up their skirts, and –’
A sharp scream had splintered the air as Bill had brought his belt down across her buttocks again.
‘Go and wash your mouth out wi’ soap, girl,’ he had roared. ‘No way will a daughter of mine speak so disrespectfully of a man of the cloth!’
Oh yes, Bill Connolly had very strong views about how his family ought to conduct themselves, and no way would he allow one of its members to live over the broomstick with a Protestant girl.
But it was Connie’s behaviour that had really surprised Gideon. For a girl of her upbringing and family to do what she had done meant that their reputation was completely ruined.
How were Ellie and her hoity-toity family going to feel when they discovered that Connie had been thrown out into the gutter for not paying her rent, and by him?
However, he gave no hint of the cynical delight he was feeling, the pleasurable sense of anticipation, as he removed some papers from his pocket and said curtly, ‘Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Connie Pride. I take it it is still Miss Connie Pride and not –’ he began.
But Connie stopped him, her face on fire as she burst o
ut angrily, ‘Kieron and I are to be wed just as soon as it can be arranged.’
‘Really?’ Gideon turned enquiringly towards Kieron. ‘Is this true, Kieron?’
‘Of course it’s true,’ Connie stormed, stamping her foot. ‘You don’t think for one minute that I would be living here if it wasn’t, do you?’
‘Well, as to that, your morals are not my concern, Miss Connie, but according to my records this house is let to a Miss Byerly, a respectable schoolteacher.’
Immediately, Connie’s chin tilted, her eyes darkening with defiance. Tossing her head she told him, ‘Miss Byerly was the name of a teacher at my school. I borrowed it when I rented this house.’
‘You borrowed it? Well, you might have been better employed “borrowing” enough money to pay your rent,’ Gideon told her pithily. ‘You do realise that it is three weeks behind, don’t you?’
‘Three weeks? I have only been here a week!’
‘The rent agreement calls for an advance payment of two weeks’ rent, which has not yet been paid according to my reckoning, and although I might not have had the advantages of your posh schooling, Miss Pride, I can still reckon up. It means that you owe me three weeks’ rent.’
‘You aren’t my landlord,’ Connie objected. ‘I have rented this house from Florentine Estates,’ she told him, tossing her head again.
‘Aye, so you have, and for your information I am now Florentine Estates. But enough of this. Either you pay me the rent you owe me, or you pack your things and leave.’
‘I can’t pay you – not now. I don’t have the money, but I shall have it…soon. Can’t you give me another couple of days? I promise you I shall have the money.’
Gideon’s eyes narrowed. He had heard enough liars to know when he was being told the truth. Connie obviously believed that she was going to be able to pay the rent, even if he had serious doubts.
Mary would, in such circumstances, he suspected, have done her utmost to return Connie to her family, with discretion so her reputation remained unstained, and no more said about the matter, other than reminding Kieron Connolly that it was something far more punishing than his uncle’s belt about his backside he was likely to feel if he continued to behave as he was doing. The Connollys married amongst themselves, and Gideon suspected that a suitable Catholic wife would already have been picked out for Kieron, and Connie’s association with him, however far it had gone, could only lead to disgrace and shame for her.
But Gideon was not his mother, and there was a certain sweet satisfaction in looking into Connie’s undeniably pretty but sullen face and visualising inside his head the haughty expression on the face of her sister and her mother when they had both rejected him.
‘Very well then,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll give you another two days, but if you can’t pay the rent by then, Connie, don’t ask me for any further licence, for there won’t be any.’
Ellie gave a small overheated sigh of relief as she finally turned into the street where her sister was living. Number sixteen – that would be on the opposite side to where she was standing and down a way…
Gideon didn’t know why he should suddenly feel impelled to turn round and retrace his steps. It certainly wasn’t out of any charitable desire to help the young couple he had just left, but something made him do it, and as he did he suddenly froze as he saw Ellie.
She hadn’t seen him, and he intended to make sure she did not do so as he fell back into the shadows and watched her hurry towards the house he had just left.
Anxiously, Ellie knocked on the door, surprised to find it suddenly flung open and to hear her sister crying, ‘You promised you would give me more time,’ before Connie realised that it was Ellie who was standing there and flung herself into Ellie’s arms in a flood of tears.
‘Connie, Connie, what on earth is going on?’ Ellie demanded when she had managed to calm her down a little, stopping speaking abruptly when the parlour door opened and she saw Kieron.
‘Ellie, don’t look like that,’ Connie begged her. ‘Kieron and I are engaged. We are to be married.’ She gabbled the words as she made a grab for Kieron’s hand and held it tightly.
Like Gideon, Ellie was immediately aware of Kieron’s discomfort and her heart sank.
‘Connie, you made no mention of any plans to marry in the letter you sent me,’ she reminded her sister. ‘You said –’
‘I know what I said, Ellie, but that was because I knew what you would think! Ellie, please, you’ve got to help us. There’s no one else we can turn to. Our aunt and uncle just don’t understand. They have forbidden me to see Kieron and –’
‘Yes, I know. I have spoken to our aunt.’
The situation was every bit as Aunt Simpkins had predicted, Ellie recognised, if not even worse! Cravenly, she tried to avoid looking at the young man standing at Connie’s side, but of course his presence could not be ignored.
A little nervously she began, ‘Connie, your friend –’
‘Kieron is not my friend,’ Connie stopped her immediately. ‘He is my fiancé. We are in love with one another, Ellie, and we are determined to be married, no matter what our families say!’ She added fiercely, ‘And his family are every bit as bad as my aunt and uncle. We love one another! Why should we be forced apart just because of some stupid old religion? I don’t care what religion Kieron is. I love him and I will die if I can’t be with him, Ellie.’
It was all very well for Connie to say how she felt, Ellie reflected unhappily. She could see plainly enough that her sister was besotted with her young man, but Ellie was disquietingly aware that he had said nothing to indicate that he shared the intensity of her feelings. Had he been the one to suggest that Connie left home or had it all been Connie’s idea?
‘Is what Connie says true, Kieron?’ Ellie asked him quietly. She might merely be Connie’s sister, rather than her parent, but right now it behoved her to take on the role of her protector as well.
‘Well, I am very fond of her, of course –’ he began uncomfortably.
Ellie stopped him. ‘No, actually, Kieron, what I meant was, do your parents also disapprove of the…friendship between the two of you, as Connie has already implied?’
A dark guilty colour burned up over his face. ‘Well, they would do, that’s for sure, if I were to tell ’em, especially my Uncle Bill. Oh Lord, Connie, if Gideon Walker should tell my uncle or my da, I shall be in for it good and proper,’ he suddenly burst out, ignoring Ellie to turn towards Connie.
Gideon Walker! Ellie froze. She told herself it was the heat and the lack of air in the small stuffy parlour that caused her to lift her hand to her throat, but in reality she knew her sudden rush of dizziness had a very different cause.
‘Ellie, you must help us. You must,’ Connie was pleading, thankfully too wrapped up in her own emotions to be aware of Ellie’s reaction. ‘Gideon has threatened to throw me out in the street if I do not pay the rent. I did have the money but someone stole it from me and Kieron has none. I can’t go back to our aunt and uncle…I can’t!’
‘Oh Connie!’ Ellie lifted her hand to her head, too distressed to know what to say. ‘If Mama could see or hear you now –’ she murmured.
‘Mama?’ Connie cut her off with a bitter laugh. ‘Well, you might let Mama rule your life from the grave, Ellie, but I am not so stupid. Mama had her life and made her own choices. She wanted to marry our father, and so she did. Well, I want to marry Kieron and that is exactly what I intend to do, and no one is going to stop me! No one!’
Ellie was too shocked to speak for a few seconds. ‘Connie, you cannot stay here,’ she protested, when she felt able to do so. ‘Not on your own, and most certainly not with…with anyone else,’ she finished stiffly. Why should she feel embarrassed? She was the one who was a married woman, not Connie, who was standing there looking at her as bold as brass.
Was it already too late? Had Connie already given herself to this young man she claimed to be in love with? If she had, then surely for Connie’s sake they s
hould be insisting that Kieron Connolly married her as soon as decently possible. If only things were different and she could take Connie back to Liverpool with her, but Ellie knew how her father-in-law would react if she did so! If only Iris was not in the Lake District and she could seek her wise counsel.
Ellie took a deep breath and then said firmly, ‘Connie, you cannot stay here. It isn’t fitting. I will take you to Friargate and ask our father if you can stay there until some other arrangements can be made. And as for you, young man,’ she continued, turning to Kieron and catching the look of relief on his face that made her heart ache for her vulnerable sister, ‘I suggest that before involving my sister in any further underhand deceit you seek the permission of both your own family and hers to pay your addresses to her!’
‘Pay his addresses? Ellie, you sound like a stuffy, starchy old book,’ Connie burst out. ‘Kieron and I are in love, did you not listen to me? We do not need the approval of either our families or our Churches to be together,’ she continued wildly. ‘And neither you nor anyone else can part us! We shall run away together to Gretna Green and get married.’
‘Connie,’ Ellie protested, shocked, ‘I realise that you are distressed, but you cannot mean what you are saying.’
‘I do mean it. I do,’ Connie wept. ‘And I hate you, Ellie. I hate you. I thought you would help me and all you’re doing is lecturing me and being horrid.’
Her sister, Ellie recognised, was working herself up into one of her tantrums.
Firmly Ellie reached for her arm. ‘Connie, please stop this nonsense immediately. You are overwrought, and –’
Ellie gasped as Connie pulled away from her and ran up the stairs before Ellie could stop her, locking herself in one of the bedrooms.
‘Connie, please,’ Ellie protested.