Workhouse Angel

by Holly Green

  Finnegan came back to stand beside her. ‘Now then, forget them out there. Sing to me.’

  She sang, and suddenly her voice came back as clear and pure as it always was. She felt, rather than heard, the audience quieten and begin to listen and at the end they clapped loudly. When Barney began the introduction to the second number she did not notice that Finnegan was no longer by her side, and when she finished there was not only applause but cheering.

  In the dressing room Mrs Finnegan kissed her and Fionnuala gave her a hug, and even Catriona said, ‘Not bad, for a beginner.’

  By the time she was dressed for her second appearance, in a long white smock with wings made of real feathers strapped to her chest, she was beginning to enjoy herself.

  Finnegan introduced her again. ‘Now, ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves to be transported to the heavenly realm, as you listen to the voice of an angel.’

  Angelina walked out onto the stage and stood alone in a single spotlight. She drew a breath and sang, and the audience was so quiet she almost thought they had gone home. At the end there was a silence so prolonged that she wondered if, indeed, they had crept away while she was singing. Then the applause and the cheering started and she had to go back on stage and do it all again. When she came off, finally, Finnegan put his arm round her. ‘I knew I was right, from the first moment I heard you. The voice of an angel indeed!’

  Nineteen

  James put on his dress suit with a mixture of reluctance and eager anticipation. Part of his mind was oppressed by a sense of guilt. He should not be occupying his time with anything as frivolous as a ball when his mother was so ill, and he had so much work to catch up on; and underlying that was the thought that he had never taken May to such an event, and never could have done.

  The other half of his mind could not subdue a thrill of excitement. There had been a time when he had been a regular guest at similar entertainments and a frequent attender at concerts and plays. The thought of resuming that life was appealing and there were bound to be a lot of old friends at the ball, whom he had not seen for some time. He had lived like a monk for months, and there was really no reason to continue. It was just a pity that the cause of the celebration and the centre of attention was such an unattractive figure as Prudence Forsyth.

  The Forsyths had spared no expense to launch their daughter onto the social scene. They had hired the ballroom at the Adelphi Hotel, the most prestigious venue in the city. A short flight of steps led from the foyer to the entrance of the ballroom and Mr and Mrs Forsyth were waiting at the top of it, with Prudence beside them, to receive their guests. When James arrived a line of people were waiting for their turn to be presented, so he had time to look ahead and take in the appearance of his hosts. For a moment, he thought he had arrived at the wrong ball. The couple at the head of the stairs did seem familiar, though he had only vague recollections of what Prudence’s parents looked like, but he did not recognise Prudence herself. Gone was the puppy fat and the acne. Instead, smooth shoulders and rounded arms rose out of a white gown, the low-cut neck of which allowed a hint of the swell of perfect breasts. The once unruly dark hair had been disciplined into a centre parting and gathered into a luxurious chignon at the nape of the neck, decorated with white roses and pink ribbons. Beneath it was a perfectly oval face, set with very large dark eyes and an alluringly curved mouth. His mother was right. The transformation was amazing.

  James just had time to take all this in before he reached the head of the stairs. He shook hands with Mr and Mrs Forsyth almost absentmindedly, his whole attention on his coming meeting with Prudence. She greeted him with a warm smile.

  ‘James! I’m so glad you could come. We haven’t seen each other for ages.’

  ‘That’s true.’ He had to clear his throat before he could go on. ‘I’m surprised you even remember me.’

  ‘Of course I remember you. You were quite the best dancer at our dancing classes. I’m relying on you to take me onto the floor for the first dance.’

  ‘Really?’ That was a surprise indeed! ‘Well, I’m most flattered.’

  By this time the queue of people behind him was building up and he had to move on.

  ‘Don’t forget!’ she murmured, as he turned away.

  The dancing could not begin until all the guests had been received, so James had some time to kill. He looked around the room. Many of those who had already arrived were of the older generation, relatives or business associates probably, but there were plenty of young people and he soon spotted a group he had known since his schooldays. Among them were Peter, Prudence’s elder brother, her older sister Isabel with her husband Laurence, and Ned Whitworth, who had been one of his closest friends. He took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and went to join them.

  ‘James Brackenbridge, by all that’s wonderful!’ Ned exclaimed. ‘We have been wondering where you had got to. Opinion was divided between your joining a Trappist monastery and taking a vow of silence and having committed some heinous crime and got yourself transported.’

  ‘Neither, so far,’ James said with a laugh, adding with a mysterious wink, ‘but I may be heading for one or the other.’

  ‘No, seriously,’ Peter put in, ‘we’ve missed you. What have you been doing?’

  James changed his tone. ‘My mother is very ill, and I have been needed at home. And I have my solicitor’s exams to work for, you know.’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Ned, ‘what happened to that pretty little seamstress or whatever she was that we saw you out with once or twice? Have you got her hidden away in some secret love nest?’

  James swallowed an irritable response. This was exactly the sort of thing he had feared when he was going out with May. ‘She went away,’ he said briefly. ‘But come on, what’s the news with all of you?’

  Having successfully diverted the conversation he was happy to listen to what the others had to tell him. Peter had gone into the family business, Laurence was studying medicine, Ned was thinking of joining the army. This was a surprise. Ned’s father was a baronet, with an estate out Knowsley way, and Ned himself was in receipt of a generous allowance, as James knew. There were several young ladies in the group, all fluttering their dance cards, and good manners required that he committed himself for a dance with all of them, but he carefully kept the first waltz free.

  At length the guests were all assembled and the orchestra struck up. James made his way to Prudence’s side and offered his arm. To his embarrassment, he found that for a few minutes they were the only couple on the dance floor. Then Mr and Mrs Forsyth joined them and after that the floor soon filled up and he was able to relax and enjoy himself. Prudence had been correct. He had been the best dancer in his class. He loved music, and the opportunity to move to its rhythm had always pleased him.

  Prudence looked up into his face. ‘Well, you haven’t forgotten how to waltz. People have been telling me that you have forsworn society and shut yourself up with your books.’

  ‘I have to spend a lot of time with my mother,’ he explained. ‘She suffers a great deal and it is only right that I should be with her.’

  ‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘I was so sorry to see her so worn down. Is there no hope of a cure?’

  ‘None, I am afraid.’

  ‘Poor James! I think it is very noble of you to give up so much of your time to her.’

  ‘It’s the least I can do,’ he said, but even as he said it an inner voice called him a hypocrite. Was he not waiting for his mother to die, so that he could be free to join May in Australia? He forced the thought down and smiled at Prudence. ‘Tell me about yourself. You’ve been in Switzerland, I hear.’

  For the rest of the dance she chattered about her two years at finishing school and he was content to listen. After that, he was committed for several dances elsewhere, but when the supper dance was announced he moved quickly to claim her and took her into the dining room on his arm. It was a convivial occasion and they were soon at the centre of an animat
ed group. After a time the talk turned to the subject of music. Prudence complained that the one thing she had missed most while she was away was the concerts at the Philharmonic Hall and St George’s Hall.

  ‘You used to go regularly, James,’ she said. ‘Do you still?’

  ‘Not recently,’ he confessed. ‘I’ve been too busy.’

  The conversation brought back memories of May and the sudden impulse that had prompted him to invite her to accompany him to a concert at St George’s Hall. That had been the real start of their love affair. She had never seen or heard a full orchestra, and her wonder and delight had brought a new piquancy to his own enjoyment. After that he had been able to introduce her to so many of the things he loved best; not just music, but poetry and art and the beauties of nature. Every new experience had been an adventure. How she would have marvelled at the scene around him now, if only he could have persuaded her that she had as much right to be there as anyone!

  ‘James!’

  ‘What? Sorry.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ve heard a word I’ve been saying.’

  ‘I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere for a moment.’

  ‘Thinking of your poor mother, I expect. But listen, there’s a concert at the Phil next week – Mozart and Schubert. Emily and Peter are going, and Bella and Laurie. Shall we join them?’

  For a moment he hesitated. ‘Well, why not? I’m sure I can get away for one evening.’

  To his surprise, his mother was still awake when he got home and called him into her room. She was propped up on her pillows and he could tell from her eyes that she had taken a large dose of the laudanum, but she was determined to hear about the ball.

  ‘Did you enjoy yourself, my dear?’

  ‘Yes, in the event I did. I’m glad you persuaded me to go.’

  ‘And what did you think of Prudence?’

  ‘She’s turned out remarkably well. Quite a transformation, as you said.’

  ‘I expect she was beset by young men wanting to dance with her.’

  ‘Oh yes, she didn’t want for partners.’

  ‘And did you dance with her?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, we had the first waltz and the supper dance.’

  ‘The first waltz and the supper dance? Well, well.’ His mother smiled sleepily. ‘I think I’ll settle down now.’

  ‘That’s right. Can I get you anything?’

  ‘No, no. Nothing at all. Goodnight, my dear boy.’

  He bent and kissed her. ‘Goodnight, Mama. I hope you sleep well.’

  The concert brought back to James how much he enjoyed music and how much he had missed it. He felt that his spirit had grown arid and shrivelled without it and the concert was like rain on dry ground. In the interval, Prudence was eager to discuss what they had heard and he discovered she was an informed and sensitive critic. They were soon deep in discussion, to the exclusion of the others.

  Ned had joined the party and as they left the hall he suggested that they should all go to the music hall a few days later. This was less to James’s taste but when Prudence declared herself keen to go and begged him to join them he agreed. In the event, it gave him almost as much pleasure as the classical concert. There was a good variety of turns, including some ballet and a solo pianist playing Chopin waltzes. Even the comedians were funnier than he’d expected.

  When he somewhat reluctantly admitted his enjoyment, Ned chaffed him. ‘You’ve let yourself turn into a dry old stick, and no mistake! You never used to be. We need to take you out and get you back to your old self. I prescribe a round of unalloyed gaiety and shall constitute myself master of the revels.’

  He was as good as his word. In the days that followed, James found himself at the centre of a group bent on enjoying themselves. There were soirées and parties and at the weekend a trip on the ferry to sample the pleasures of Birkenhead Park. That was fraught with memories of May and her unfeigned amazement that there could be so much grass and so many trees and flowers, all open to the public; but he put them to one side and concentrated on his present companions. The most constant of these was Prudence, who seemed to be always at his side. She had a lively sense of humour and an almost unlimited capacity for enjoying herself, and her buoyant spirits were like a tonic. This, added to her beauty, attracted plenty of male attention and James felt flattered that she seemed to prefer his company to any other.

  It was not long before he realised that he had a rival. If he bought Prue flowers, Ned would invariably arrive the following day with a larger and more luxuriant bouquet. When James gave her a book of poetry, Ned produced a copy of the latest novel. He was always ready to hand her on and off the ferry, or into and out of a carriage. And since he was a gentleman of leisure, he was available to squire her to afternoon concerts and tea parties while James was at work. Being a scion of the landed gentry, he had the means to keep horses and a reputation as an excellent rider and he frequently offered to procure a suitable mount for Prue and take her riding. It was an offer that she always laughingly refused. James, comfortable in the impression that in spite of all this Prue preferred his company to Ned’s, found it all rather amusing. He thought of it as good sport.

  One morning he was summoned into Mr Weaver’s office.

  ‘Have you heard anything from Richard Kean?’ his employer asked.

  With a jolt, James realised that he had not given a thought to his friend’s fate for some days.

  ‘No, nothing. I assume he is still searching for Angelina.’

  ‘After all this time? Surely there cannot be any hope of finding her alive after so long.’

  ‘I think Richard has sworn not to give up until he knows one way or the other.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Weaver looked troubled. ‘I should feel more sanguine about his chances if McBride was not involved. Have you had any contact there?’

  ‘No, sir. I promised I would keep away from him, and I have.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. Everything I learn about that man makes me like him less. Vane tells me he managed to infiltrate one of his men into McBride’s warehouse as a clerk. A week later he was washed up on Formby beach, with a knife in his back.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Oh, yes. One of the Cornermen has been arrested on suspicion of the deed, but we can be pretty sure McBride was behind it.’

  The Cornermen were a notorious gang of youths who hung around on street corners, usually outside public houses, and demanded money with menaces from passers-by.

  ‘That’s terrible!’ James said.

  ‘Did you know he has sacked young Miss Findlay, and her father?’ Weaver asked.

  ‘For talking to me and Richard?’

  ‘Presumably.’

  ‘But why? All she did was tell us about Angelina. It had nothing to do with any of McBride’s business affairs.’

  ‘I imagine it was as a warning to others not to discuss anything connected to him with anyone.’

  ‘Poor Lizzie! The family must be destitute without her income and her father’s. I think I should go and see if there is anything I can do to help.’

  ‘You will not!’ Weaver said firmly. ‘You will keep well away – and that’s an order.’

  ‘Very well, sir. If you feel so strongly about it.’

  ‘I feel strongly about preserving you from ending up like that unfortunate clerk,’ Weaver said gruffly. He put his head on one side and looked at James with a curious half-smile and an expression of satisfaction. James was suddenly reminded of a robin which had just managed to swallow a particularly succulent worm. ‘Quite apart from considerations of common humanity,’ Weaver said, ‘I have my own reasons for wanting you in one piece. How do you fancy the idea of a partnership?’

  James caught a sharp breath. ‘A partnership? You mean, here? With you and Mr Woolley?’

  ‘Where else? Woolley is getting on a bit now. It won’t be long before he thinks of retiring. I am going to need to take in someone else and it might as well be you. You’ve shown yourself to be a brigh
t chap and a hard worker. Once you’ve passed your final examination, as I have no doubt you will, I cannot think of anyone better qualified for the position. What do you say?’

  James swallowed hard. Once this offer would have been the summit of his ambitions, but now he had other plans. All the same, he was unwilling to give a blank refusal. He could see that Weaver was confident that he would accept and would be deeply hurt if he turned the offer down. He had come to like and respect him over the years they had worked together, and he knew that he could have been paid no higher compliment. But how could he agree? While he floundered Weaver himself came to his rescue.

  ‘I can understand that with your mother’s state of health to consider it must be hard for you to think of the future. You don’t need to give me an answer now. Think it over. Talk to her about it. I’m sure your mother would be glad to know your prospects were secure. Let me know in a day or two.’

  ‘I will!’ James said, almost giddy with relief. ‘And thank you, sir. Please don’t think I am not sensible of the compliment you have paid me. I am truly grateful.’

  ‘Well, well. We’ll leave it there for the time being. You’d better get on with that conveyancing job now.’

  Looking at his face, James could see that he was disappointed. He had expected an immediate and rapturous acceptance. He went back to his desk with a sense of guilt at what felt like disloyalty.

  He felt guilty about another matter as well. It was his fault, and Richard’s, that Lizzie Findlay had lost her job and he felt he ought to try to help her in some way, in spite of Weaver’s direct order to the contrary.

  As soon as he left work, he made his way to the address she had given him at their last meeting. It was a small, respectable place, not far from the docks, but when he reached it he found the door locked and the windows boarded up. He was tempted to give up at that point, but his conscience would not let him, so he made his way to McBride’s warehouse and waited for the workers to come out. He was looking for the friend who had been so protective when he and Richard had first spoken to Lizzie. It was a long shot, because it was quite possible that she had been sacked as well, but to his relief he saw her coming out of the warehouse with the rest. She called goodbye to some other women and set off into the city. James followed her until they were well away and then he crossed the road and confronted her. She stopped and then drew back a pace or two.