AGNES WAS IN a foul mood. For two hours, she’d lain silently, facing the wall. She’d refused a bathing, rejected breakfast, and the tea Sally brought up upon her arrival sat untouched by the bedside.
Itching with boredom, Sally shifted on the hard chair. Though tempted to ask what ailed Agnes, her expression deterred her.
She’d wondered whether she’d annoyed her by returning late yesterday, Peggy’s incident having prolonged her break, but dismissed this. Agnes wasn’t one to hold back; she’d have made her feelings known immediately. That perhaps she knew about Maggie, she also rejected; Pru hadn’t mentioned anything earlier, was her quietly cheerful self.
Glancing for the hundredth time at the clock, she sighed inwardly. Lunchtime was a while away and this inactivity would only prolong the delay until its arrival. Her eyes flicked to the bed. Agnes wasn’t talkative at the best of times but this brooding silence was unnerving. In desperation, she tried again.
‘Would you like some fresh tea, Mrs Sharp?’
Agnes grunted refusal.
‘I could read to you, if you’d like?’ Sally persisted. ‘Or perhaps fetch you a bite—?’
‘How much does your child mean to you, girl?’
The unexpected question, and its nature, took Sally by surprise. ‘Why, he means the world to me, Mrs Sharp. He’s my entire reason for living.’
‘When you are parted, do you pine for him?’
‘Indeed. I know he’s well cared for, but still—’
‘You’re bereft in his absence?’
‘Yes, yes, I am.’ She waited. Silence. Curiosity got the better of her. She crossed to the bed. ‘Is something wrong, Mrs Sharp? You seem somewhat—’
‘She was such a tiny baby. Such a delicate scrap of life. I didn’t think she’d survive the night but she proved me wrong.’ Agnes turned and her eyes were unusually soft. ‘Did you have a difficult time bearing your child?’
A smile touched Sally’s lips. ‘I did. But I had the most wonderful help at hand that anyone could wish.’
‘I shall remember it until my dying breath. The weather was atrocious; it fitted the occasion perfectly. Never in my life had I prayed as fervently as that night. Never had I begged the Almighty’s help, nor needed it as much. I waited, waited, watching that chest rise and fall. And as the new day dawned, I knew He would not claim her. My pleading had come to nothing.’ Sighing deeply, the old woman closed her eyes.
She gazed at her, aghast. ‘Why, Mrs Sharp? Why would you wish such a wicked thing?’
The answer was like a whisper on the breeze. ‘It matters not. None of it matters, now.’ Suddenly, her features returned to normal, the maudlin look leaving her eyes. From beneath the bedclothes, she extracted an envelope sealed with a black wax stamp. ‘Would you deliver this when you leave at lunchtime? The address is not far: number forty, Great Ancoats Street.’
‘Yes, Mrs Sharp.’
Agnes handed it over with a curt nod. ‘Now, I think I shall have that tea. Make haste, girl. No dawdling.’
On the walk home, Sally still reeled from the confession. She’d heard and seen enough the past week to gauge her employer – today’s behaviour was out of character.
To spare Pru’s feelings, she didn’t mention the conversation and had carried out her mother’s request with barely a word. When she’d returned to the room, Agnes’s expression held no trace of remembrance, and Sally’s bewilderment grew. The rest of the morning passed as usual, and now she half wondered whether she’d imagined the incident.
Then there was the letter. As instructed, she’d delivered it before heading home. A maid had received it without a word. What it contained, who the recipient was, she didn’t know; the envelope lacked an addressee. The oddness of it all made her head ache.
Grace and her close friend and neighbour, Winnie Knox, greeted her warmly. After feeding Jonathan, she joined them at the table. She inclined her head to Peggy’s bed. ‘How is she, Aunt Grace?’
Grace raised her hands in a helpless motion. ‘Like I’ve just been telling Winnie, no better, no worse. She’s peaceful, and for that I’m grateful.’
Sally smiled at the rotund woman beside her. ‘It’s nice to see you, Mrs Knox.’
‘Aye, lass, and thee.’ Leaning in, Winnie added in a loud whisper, ‘How’s things going with owd Sharp? She not tried clouting you one, yet?’
‘Winnie!’ spluttered Grace.
‘What? I’m only asking.’ She folded her arms beneath her mountainous bust. ‘Queer pair, them two. I don’t know how tha stomachs it. I’d be frightened to death alone with them all day.’
Pushing the morning’s event from her mind, Sally smiled. She liked Winnie a great deal. She’d been a pillar of support to the family since Peggy became ill.
‘It’s going well, Mrs Knox. My friend starts work in the shop on Saturday, too.’ She smiled again, recalling Maggie’s delight yesterday upon hearing the news. ‘Mrs Sharp doesn’t seem so bad.’ The blatant lie tasted bitter, but she had no choice. Troubles aplenty plagued her aunt as it was.
Winnie’s chins wobbled as she nodded. ‘Aye, well, just mind her, lass. If she does try owt, thump the bugger and run straight home.’
Grace hooted with laughter. ‘Run straight …? She’s norra babby, Winnie. Eeh, I don’t know, the things you come out with. You’re bloomin’ barmy, never mind them two.’
‘Well, you know what I mean. Anyroad, she’d do well to, regardless, with that madman on t’ loose.’
They fell silent, expressions sober, and Sally’s smile died. ‘Madman?’
‘It’s awful, lass, awful. I don’t know what this world’s coming to. It’s a good job you left when you did.’ Grace turned to Winnie, who nodded gravely. ‘I said to you when you told me, didn’t I, said it’s a good job our Sally came here? It don’t bear thinking in, does it?’
‘It don’t, Grace.’
Sally’s face creased in bemusement. ‘I’m sorry, has something happened in Bolton?’
‘Eeh, it’s terrible, lass. A wench were strangled yesterday – in her own kitchen, by all accounts, while her family were out at work. What if the swine what’s done it makes his way up here? I hope they catch whoever’s responsible, quick, and make him swing. Shocking, it is.’
‘Goodness, that’s terrible!’
‘Our Fanny’s husband were saying when he arrived home this morning,’ Winnie continued. ‘His mam dwells in Bolton and he were visiting her forra few days, for she’s not long for this world, poor wench. He said the attack’s on everyone’s lips; no news travels faster than bad.
‘He don’t know the ins and outs, like, but whatever’s gone on, it’s shocking.’ Frowning, she drummed the table with podgy fingers. ‘Where did I say it occurred, Grace? Summer … summat or other?’
‘Nay, not Summer, Spring. Spring Row.’
‘No …’ Sally reared back, mouth stretched in a silent scream.
Grace and Winnie’s confused cries rang in her ears, then blackness consumed her.
‘Now what d’you think you’re about?’ Brows knitted, Martha jerked her head to the fireside. ‘Get your arse in that chair, Ivy Morgan, and stay put. I told thee last night, I said don’t be doing nowt, that I’d do whatever were needed this afternoon.’
Ivy suppressed a sigh. Though aware that her friend was trying to help, Martha was beginning to get on her nerves. If not so weary, she’d have told her – nicely but firmly – to bugger off home. She couldn’t stand this idleness, however much everyone insisted.
Martha raised Ivy’s chin and peered at the angry welts. ‘I’ll give them another bathe in a minute. They still sore?’
‘Aye,’ she admitted, ‘but don’t tell Arthur or the lads I said. They fret as it is.’
Sitting at the table, Martha took over peeling the vegetables. ‘D’you know, the day all this began, yon Arthur flew at that bugger, Goden, outside this here cottage. The coward scarpered but he swore to me, Arthur did, he’d have his day with him. Now, I know you’re worried, wench, but it’s been coming, has this.’
‘He’ll not let this go; it’s gone too far for that. He blames hisself, you know, said if him and our Tommy hadn’t thumped Joseph Sunday, this mightn’t have happened. I don’t believe that. It’d been brewing since Sally came. I knew he’d be back. He’s not someone to walk away. He wanted revenge and got it.’
‘Aye, and Arthur will get his the night. Tommy still set on going with him?’
‘Oh, is he. I’ve never seen the lad as he were last night. Well, you saw yourself. I thought he’d explode with rage.’
Reaching for another potato, Martha nodded. ‘I were bubbling, an’ all, wench. The state that Jenkins lass were in, I thought he’d done for thee. It’s a bloody good job she called when she did. It don’t bear thinking on what would’ve happened if she hadn’t interrupted the swine.’ At Ivy’s frown, she clicked her tongue. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be maudlin.’
‘Nay, you’re right. I owe my life to that lass. And to think …’ Colour touched her cheeks. ‘I’ve allus believed she weren’t good enough for my Tommy, foolish sod that I am.’
‘Well, I’d say you’re stuck with her, Ivy. Anyone with half an eye can see she’s fair smitten. She don’t seem a bad lass.’
They lapsed into companionable silence. Gazing across the hills through the window, Ivy’s frown returned as she recalled Dolly’s words yesterday. The lass said she’d had to come, was worried as she hadn’t seen Tommy in a while. What was going on? He clearly hadn’t invited her to dinner, nor met her Saturday. Why lie? Where on earth had he been?
Her hand drifted to her neck. That bastard. What would follow? He’d said he’d pick them off. Was Arthur next? Her sons? Meeting those hate-filled eyes yesterday, the world slipping, she really thought it was the end. She’d woken, in more pain than she’d ever known, to Martha and Dolly cradling her, faces awash with tears.
She smiled, couldn’t deny Martha had been an angel. She’d refused to let them send for the doctor so, with gentle care, Martha tended Ivy herself. Her friend had also calmed down Dolly, tidied the room and prepared a meal for the men. She’d known food would be the last thing on their minds, but Martha had meant well. She was deeply grateful for her support.
‘That’s the veg done. Shall I brew some tea?’
Ivy nodded. As Martha bustled around the fire, her thoughts returned to last night. Pandemonium erupted upon her husband and sons’ return. Their anguish and fury were a terrible sight. Arthur made back for the door, intent on finding Joseph and smashing his head to a pulp, but Martha had stopped him, pointing out that his wife needed him.
He’d relented but insisted no one inform the police. He’d dole out Joseph’s punishment. And it would be harsher than what any court in the land could decree.
‘I want to say again how grateful I am to thee for stopping Arthur,’ Ivy murmured as Martha poured tea. ‘There’s no telling what would’ve happened with the rage he were in.’
‘He’ll still give him the beating of his life when he finds him, Ivy – yon Tommy, an’ all. He near murdered his mam, wench. You can’t blame him for wanting to go with Arthur.’
She heaved a sigh. ‘I’m frightened to death of what will happen. Don’t get me wrong, that bastard deserves all he gets; I’d have gutted him meself given the chance. But if they finish up doing for him … They’ll not swing for him,’ she ground out. ‘I were glad upon hearing they’d given him a thumping, but this … this is different. The murder in their eyes last night … I’m frightened, Martha.’
‘I know. Were it my Reg and our lads, I’d feel the same. But they need to do this, their way. As Arthur said, there’s no use going to the police, for that swine will no doubt have an alibi. It’d be your word against his. When all’s said and done, you were the only one to see him. You have to let your men do what they need to. You’ve no choice, not with this.’
‘They’ll be home from the pit, soon. Mother of God, I pray they don’t go too far. Happiness filled this cottage when that carpenter took our Shaun on. Over the bloody moon, we were; I didn’t think owt could dampen my mood. Goden’s ruined that. He’s put a black cloud over my family, and after this night it’ll only darken.’
‘Eeh, wench, now don’t you cry,’ Martha chided softly when tears welled in her eyes. ‘This ain’t the Ivy I know. Don’t you let him crush that spirit of yourn, don’t you dare. Once he’s got his, later, it’ll be over.
‘You’ve much to be happy about, and not just with young Shaun. There’ll be a wedding to look forward to soon, you mark my words; all what’s occurred will no doubt bring Tommy and that Jenkins lass closer. This time next year, there might be the patter of little feet, just think on that. All this, it’ll be long forgotten.’
With effort, Ivy smiled. There was much to look forward to. Shaun started his carpentry work shortly, and Tommy … Would he and Dolly wed? From what the dairymaid said, something was afoot. When this business with Joseph blew over, she’d sit him down for a good talk, she determined.
‘I’ll find Sally without your help. And when I do, I’ll watch the life drain from her worthless body, an’ all.’
The haunting threat continued to plague her. She just prayed Sally would stay in Manchester, where she was safe. If she ever returned and he discovered her …
The consequences didn’t bear thinking about.
‘Sally, this is madness! Ed, will you tell her it’s madness?’
Her uncle reached for his pipe. ‘I agree, but it’s her decision.’
Grace clicked her tongue and turned back to Sally. ‘Please, lass, don’t go. It mightn’t be Mrs Morgan or owt to do with that husband of yourn. Whoever she is, she survived, so there’s no need for you to go. Tha can’t just up and leave. What about work? The babby?’
Sally’s chin lifted: her mind was made up. ‘Aunt Grace, I’m going. I understand your fears but I must. Mrs Morgan saved my life. I must make sure it’s not her. I have Miss Sharp’s consent to take tomorrow off work and, as you know, Mrs Knox shall ask Fanny to wet-nurse Jonathan.’ Glancing at Ed’s and Stan’s worried frowns, she sighed. ‘I have to do this.’
Grace turned away in frustration. ‘You’ll be like a lamb to the slaughter, don’t you see? If this is his revenge for them helping thee, who d’you think he’ll be on t’ prowl for now? Please, don’t go. I’ll not lose you again.’
Sally forced herself not to rush to comfort her; Grace would only up her pleas until she conceded. She couldn’t risk that. She must return to Breightmet. If Ivy had almost lost her life for saving hers and Jonathan’s … Dear God, she’d never forgive herself. That woman was her saviour. She’d never live in peace until she knew.
Quiet weeping filled the kitchen and her heart ached with contrition. She hated seeing Grace upset – more so, knowing she’d caused it. She’d inadvertently sparked another row, too. Unwilling to risk taking Jonathan, she’d been grateful for Winnie’s suggestion that Fanny feed him, but Grace was appalled and had blasted her friend for encouraging the ‘bloody senseless plan’.
Grace wiped her face with her apron, eyes suddenly bright. ‘If you must go, take Con. He seems the handy sort if you do cross paths with that husband of yourn.’
She was aghast. ‘I cannot do that!’
‘He’d agree if you asked, I’m sure.’
‘Aunt Grace, I cannot journey with Con unchaperoned. What on earth would people say?’
‘Take Ed, then. He’d give the divil a good hiding if you did see him. Will you, Ed? Will you go with her? Please?’
Her uncle opened his mouth but Sally got in first. ‘Uncle Ed has work in the morning. He couldn’t possibly take time off and I wouldn’t let him.’ Sighing, she wrapped her arms around Grace. ‘I know you’re worried and I hate myself for putting you through this but please, please don’t make this harder for me than it is already.
‘I don’t expect you to understand but for my peace of mind I must do this, and do it alone. This is my and Joseph’s mess and I’m damned if anyone else will suffer for it.’
‘But Sally—’
‘I’ll take Shield. He’s all the protection I could need,’ she cut in gently. ‘You have my word, Aunt Grace. As soon as I see with my own two eyes that Mrs Morgan’s well, I shall come straight back.’ She turned to her uncle and cousin. ‘Do either of you know anyone with a cart who would take me in the morning? The train scared the life from me last time; I couldn’t bear it again. I’ve money to pay them.’
Stan shook his head but Ed, avoiding Grace’s eye, nodded. ‘Aye. I’ll call on him when I’ve had some grub.’ His gaze softened. ‘You watch yourself the morrow, d’you hear? I’d accompany thee if I could, you know that, don’t you? I can’t shirk work, lass, not with our Peggy’s medicine to buy on top of everything else.’
‘Oh, of course, I understand. Thank you.’
Admitting defeat, Grace trudged to the fire to begin the evening meal.
Sally strove to calm her thumping heart. Would Joseph discover her? Pure loathing consumed her at the thought of him. Would Shield be adequate protection? Should she heed her aunt’s advice, send Con a message?
Fear of inciting gossip had been good reason to reject the suggestion. But deep down, as much as she hated admitting it, she knew her reluctance to have the Irishman accompany her was due to Tommy. She didn’t want him believing she and Con … Not that he’d care, but still …
Heat flooded her face. However hard she fought the memory of him, of her body’s response to his touch, it crept to mind often, filling her with longing and shame.
Now, as well as the terror of Joseph discovering her, of Ivy having suffered at his hands, a different one took root – fear of being unable to conceal her feelings for the man she could never have.
It hadn’t taken Tommy and his father long to discover where Alice Russell dwelled.
They received information at the first inn at which they enquired. Whether folk disliked Joseph as much in Deansgate as in Breightmet, or the shillings slackened the tongues, they neither knew nor cared. They had the address. That’s what mattered.
Passing down the ruinous street to Chapel Alley, they garnered mixed reactions. Prostitutes and customers, preoccupied in doorways, paid them little attention. Some doorways appeared empty but as they neared, wan-faced women sidled out, touting for business.
Bands of savage-looking men peered from the shadows, likely deliberating whether these strangers’ pockets contained anything worth stealing. But Tommy knew their murderous expressions – if his was anything like his father’s – coupled with their thick muscles, would deter them from trying. Plenty of ale-soaked sots spilling from inns, later, would make easier targets.
Scouring the decrepit cottages for number thirteen, he clenched his fists. Lying awake last night, he’d thought long and hard what he’d do to Joseph. He’d make him pay for what he’d done. Fury like no other engulfed him – interwoven with crippling guilt. He could have prevented this. If he’d told his family what George Turner had revealed, they would have been prepared. Too wrapped up in Sally, he hadn’t thought of their safety.
Because of him, his mother had almost died. And to top it all, he’d failed Sally, too. His own wants overshadowed the purpose of his trip to Manchester. Was she next? Would Joseph do to her as he’d done to his mother?
His step faltered. The need for her, to love her, protect her, burned just as brightly, until he truly suspected he was going mad.
When his father pointed to a door, Tommy cleared his mind. He must remain focused. Sunday proved Joseph to be the devil they knew he was. He was damned if he’d let him off as lightly this time. This beating would be for his mother, who had never harmed anyone in her life, who had nurtured and cared for him always. Who had nearly died at the hands of the bastard behind this door.
He wanted revenge for her. And he wanted it for Sally. Whatever happened this night, he’d gladly face the consequences.
‘Right, lad, remember what I said. Give him the beating of his life but don’t lose it. He’s not worth dancing at the end of a rope.’
Nodding, Tommy made to thump the door but Arthur stopped him.
‘I’m serious, here. You need to keep a level head. Last Sunday … I’ve never seen thee like that.’ A curious frown appeared. ‘The venom in your eyes when you looked upon him fair shocked me, it did.’
Tommy was unable to meet his gaze. Seeing the man legally bound to the woman he loved more than life, a ferocious mist had descended. His feet had taken on a life of their own and propelled him across the road.
He still remembered the feel of Joseph’s face meeting his fist. He’d landed a blow to his cheekbone, another to his mouth. If his father hadn’t dragged him off, he wouldn’t have stopped until the cobbles ran red, so extreme was the swell of loathing.
‘Look, I know you were angry, lad; I bloody were, an’ all,’ his father added. ‘After dragging you off, I were willing to leave it, figured he’d got what he deserved. But when he started spewing insults about your mam, well, that’s why he gorra thump off me, an’ all. It’s a good job he scarpered when he did.
‘What I’m saying is this: that bastard knows how to rile us. We must play it different the night. He’ll suffer, all right, and tha can have the pleasure of delivering the first blow, but we must keep our calm. Understand?’
‘Aye.’
Arthur continued staring at him. Slowly, his eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and horror. ‘You’re in love with that lass, ain’t you?’
Tommy could only blink.
‘Your reaction to Goden … I knew there were more to it than met the eye. That’s where your mind’s been at for weeks, in’t it?’
‘I …’ Words failed him. It was pointless denying it.
‘We’ll talk about this later. Let’s get on with what we came to do. Now, remember what I said. Keep your calm.’
Glaring at Alice’s door through tears of shame and despair, Tommy lifted a fist and thumped hard.
The smell emitted when it creaked open brought grimaces to them both. They pushed past the slovenly-looking woman without a word.
‘’Ere, what the divil’s your game? Who d’you think youse are, barging in here?’
Ignoring her, they peered about. With no fire in the grate and only the guttering light from a single candle on the table, it took them a moment to become accustomed to the gloom. A man rose from the fireside chair and Tommy lunged. Grabbing his throat, he slammed him against the wall.
‘What the—!’
‘Shut your stinking trap. Did you really think you’d get away with it? Did you?’ he shouted, grip tightening.
The woman screeched and rushed forward but Arthur blocked her path. ‘What’s he done?’ she squalled, trying to claw past.
‘What’s he done? I’ll tell thee what he’s—’
‘It’s not him.’
‘Son?’
‘It’s not him.’
Squinting at the figure, Arthur swore under his breath. ‘Where is he?’
‘Who?’
‘Don’t try me, woman. Where’s that bastard, Goden?’ He turned to the coughing man, who was clutching his throat. ‘We know he’s dwelling here. Tell us where he is or by God, you’ll have more than a sore neck.’
‘Listen ’ere, youse two. I don’t know what’s afoot but if it’s our Joseph you’re after, you’re out of luck. We’ve seen nowt of him for days. You ask my husband. We ain’t seen him, have we, Harold?’
Harold glanced at them in turn then shook his head.
Disgust filled Tommy. He’d noticed the warning glint in the wife’s eye. How could they protect the evil swine?
‘Well? What you still doing here? Clear off afore you get the poker across your skulls. He ain’t here so you’ll have to try elsewhere, won’t you?’ She swung the door wide. ‘Go on, bugger off.’
Tommy brought his palms down on the littered table. ‘How can you harbour that bastard after what he’s done?’
‘Son … Christ’s sake.’
He followed his father’s gaze. On a pallet, shapes shifted. Candlelight danced across small faces, white with fear. A child rose, skittered across and wrapped her arms around Harold’s legs.
‘’Ere, sit your arse back down, you.’
Ignoring her mother, she gazed up. ‘My uncle ain’t here, mister, honest. Please, don’t hurt Father again.’
Tommy drew a hand across his mouth then turned to Arthur, who nodded.
‘This ain’t the place, lad. He’ll get what’s coming to him but not here, not like this.’
‘That’s it, go on, get from my home,’ Joseph’s sister jeered as they pushed past.
‘You’d best start praying for that foulness you call a brother. Me and my lad, we’ll find him.’
Her smirk slipped at the sheer venom in Arthur’s tone. Then she slammed the door in their faces.
‘What now?’ Tommy ground out as they turned back into Deansgate. ‘He can’t get away with this!’
‘And he won’t. I swore weeks ago I’d have my day with him and have it I will. He can’t hide for ever.’
‘They gone?’
Alice let the scrap of curtain fall. ‘Aye.’
‘What the hell were that about?’
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Joseph shrugged at his brother-in-law. He eased into his chair and rested his feet on the hearth. ‘How should I know?’
‘How … how should you know? They were here for thee; course you must bloody well know!’
‘That bitch Sally’s told them a pack of lies, ain’t she?’ He turned to the window and grinned. ‘You told them good and proper, our Alice.’
It was her turn to shrug. ‘You’re my brother. Bastards, who do they think they are, barging in like that? I would’ve wrapped that poker round their brains, an’ all.’ Her eyes narrowed when Harold shook his head. ‘What’s wrong with thee?’
‘What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? I near had the liver kicked out of me because of him. I reckon they would’ve, an’ all, but for our Lily. You want to wise up, you do. He’s up to summat, he is. Folk don’t come baying for your blood for nowt.’
Joseph laughed and it grew in pitch when Alice stormed to her husband.
‘Look at the poor bugger’s face. He’s already black and blue.’ She tapped her temple. ‘That pair ain’t full shillings. What did you want me to do, let him get another thumping for what his whore of a wife’s been spouting? He’s my brother—’
‘And I’m your husband! I’m telling you, summat’s afoot, here. And what in hell’s there to laugh at, Joseph? Kin or no, I’ll not have you fetching trouble to my door, d’you hear? Whatever you’ve done, you sort it – and quick.’
Joseph grinned at his sister. ‘He’s as barmy as that pair.’
‘Aye. Happen I should’ve let them give him a pasting. It might’ve knocked some sense into him.’
Harold gazed at them, snatched up his jacket and cap and slammed from the cottage.
Joseph settled deeper in the lumpy seat. ‘Ah, ignore him, he’ll calm down. He’s right about one thing, mind. The lass did well, there. I reckon they’d not have let it lie but for her.’
Alice lumbered to the chair opposite. ‘First thing she’s done right in her life, silly bitch.’ She picked at a stump of black tooth, her eyes turning thoughtful. ‘D’you think they’ll be back?’
Fear lurked in his voice, belying his nonchalant shrug. ‘They’ll not find me.’
‘I’m surprised Harold didn’t put two and two together. Folk are talking, you know. It’s spread from row to street to bloody village, by all accounts. You’re certain the owd ’un’s well?’
‘Aye, Nancy said last night.’
‘Right, well, keep your head low. Bide your time. You’ll find the bitch, somehow.’
His knuckles turned white as he imagined slamming them into Sally’s face. Where was she? Obviously, Ivy knew, but he’d get no joy from that quarter, now. He couldn’t risk returning, not with Arthur and that son thirsty for his blood. Frustration burned in him. He closed his eyes.
Keep running, whore. Keep running, he inwardly seethed. You’ll slip up eventually and I’ll find you.
Alice frowned when his eyes sprang open. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’m wondering if it’d be worth me going to Manchester. Happen the workhouse master …?’ His enthusiasm died with his words.
‘What about him?’
Stroking week-old stubble, he sighed. ‘It’s unlikely … Maybe, just maybe, he’s seen her. If yon lass did see her at the market, she’ll not have returned to Manchester without good reason.’
‘What, you reckon she’s found out about—?’
‘The master assured me she’d not, but … If she has, she’d have been back to Manchester like a shot.’ Excitement stirred again. ‘You think it’s worth me going?’
‘You’ll lose nowt from trying. When will you leave?’
As her uncle discussed his scheme with her mother, Lily shoved her fingers in her ears to block out their cackles. She snuggled closer to the twins and, for the hundredth time, wished the lady on the market had taken her with her.