AGAIN, MAGGIE CROSSED to the window. She glanced along the street, clicked her tongue and returned to the table.
Sally was the picture of composure. She sipped her tea, attention on Shield by her feet.
For days, she’d willed him to pull through, praying infection wouldn’t take hold. To her blessed relief, it worked. He was more alert today and, despite a shaky start, was walking around again. Love and attention were what he needed and he had them by the shovel load. Whenever she left him to attend to Jonathan, Maggie’s twins would sit with him; they, too, were desperate to have their friend back. She was confident that in time, they would.
‘How you’re so calm, I don’t know,’ Maggie marvelled, gaze straying back to the window. ‘I’m on pins for thee.’
‘I see no point in this meeting. I’ve made my decision.’
‘I wish you’d think about this—’
‘There’s nothing to think about,’ Sally cut in mildly. ‘That money is tainted, Maggie. It was simply another opportunity to rub her daughter’s nose in the dirt. If Mrs Sharp had died from natural means, Miss Sharp would have been virtually penniless. She chose me as beneficiary for the sole purpose of destroying her child’s life. I want no part in it. No part at all.’
‘And Joseph?’ asked Maggie bluntly. ‘I get no pleasure mentioning him but you need to think on you and that babby. All that money … you’d want for nowt the rest of your days. This could be a fresh beginning, away from him. Can’t you put your beliefs to one side, lass? If not for thee, for Jonathan. Do it for him.’
She stared at her son, asleep by the fire. She’d been so hopeful, so happy – so selfish.
It was only afterwards, when the news sank in, that her joy had turned to disgust. Remembering her excitement had her cringing with shame. As Agnes had proved countless times, she thrived on causing Pru misery. This was no different. This parting gift had been intended to crush her daughter a final time. Well, Sally wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Not a single farthing would pass through her hands.
‘Even Manchester’s not altogether safe,’ Maggie pressed, buoyed by her silence. ‘He could track you down if he’d a mind to. I feel sick thinking on it. We only want what’s best for thee. Don’t do owt rash when they arrive, eh? Just think on it a while more. Even your aunt agrees you should take it.’
Despite herself, Sally couldn’t contain a smile at the mention of Grace.
She cast her mind back to Monday. On Tommy’s departure, her spirits had plummeted to rock bottom. If she lived to be a hundred, she’d never love another man. Not like that, with him. He’d been the first to bear proof that all men were not the same. He’d awakened that something inside her, something she hadn’t thought herself capable of, following Joseph’s evil.
Con’s arrival had eased her inner darkness somewhat. He’d held her, soothed her. He’d admitted he hadn’t been able to face saying goodbye in Manchester but was here now, and he and Maggie would take good care of her.
However, her lift in mood was short-lived – she’d sobbed to see her beautiful, gentle giant. Shield had tried to rise for her but his legs buckled and he’d whimpered, as though apologising for his failure to protect her. She’d reassured him, hugged Shaun for tending him. And saying goodbye to Ivy shattered her heart.
Ivy had fussed around the cart tucking blankets about her, asked repeatedly was she up to the journey, was her pain manageable, was she warm enough … Then she’d grasped her hand and begged her never to return. Despite the sorrow that agreeing brought, Sally promised.
As she’d made for the town she thought she’d seen the back of, anguish had threatened to consume her. Passing Deansgate, she’d refused to think, feel. She’d eased off her marriage band and dropped it over the side of the cart. She’d felt numb at the thought of Joseph, then, still did.
Initially, she blamed herself for what had happened. Countless obstacles scuppered her return, almost foretelling imminent doom: Peggy’s death, Grace’s revelation, the Sharps’ deaths – like a higher power warning her not to go. Ignoring the signs nearly cost her her life. She should have left after seeing Ivy was safe. She should have left after witnessing the proposal – another shadow of warning, to be sure.
Yet gradually, she realised she wasn’t at fault, knew that to move on from this she must put it behind her. She was used to his abuse and she’d recover, as she had many times. She refused to be broken.
On reaching Ancoats, a numbness his evil wasn’t strong enough to penetrate had wrapped around her. Shoulders back, head high, she’d greeted a horrified Ellen with dry-eyed calmness. She’d then noticed the kitchen’s other occupants.
Grace had caught her in a tight embrace, crying and railing over Joseph. Ed, white with shock and rage, held her next. When he stepped aside, revealing the person behind him, Sally’s mouth fell open. She’d stared, elated and terrified, unsure what to do. Stan made the decision for her. Wrapping his arms around her, he’d uttered the most precious words:
‘I could’ve lost thee. Oh, Sally, forgive me …’
And those long, torturous hours of rape and abuse seemed worth it. She had her family back. She had her brother.
They had asked her to come home and she’d agreed to, soon. Despite her joy at reconciling, she had to be sure they – or more to the point, Stan – wouldn’t have a change of heart. She couldn’t bear things going wrong again.
Now, as Maggie returned to the window, Sally sighed. She wouldn’t dwell on her future. She’d take each day as it came; it was all she could do. Her friends and family were of one mind: accept the money, build a new life for herself and Jonathan. But she couldn’t. If her decision proved disastrous, she’d suffer the consequences. Yet she’d do so with a clear conscience.
‘Maggie, please, sit down.’
‘He said one o’clock and it’s nearly two. Where the divil are they?’
‘Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said? I won’t accept it.’ She’d spoken more sharply than intended and sighed again. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be short with you, it’s just—’ A knock cut her off. Maggie rose and she grasped her hand. ‘Please respect my decision. I won’t be dissuaded.’
Sighing herself, Maggie went to answer the door.
Father Collins entered, all smiles and apologies. Catching sight of Sally, they died. He took her hand. ‘My child. I was not aware that your injuries were quite so extensive. Mrs Benson said you suffered an accident in Bolton, but … Are you quite well enough to receive us?’
‘Yes, Father.’
He looked as if he’d ask more but when she looked away, changed his mind. He motioned to a gentleman in the doorway. ‘This is Mr Stockton, of Stockton and Coburn Solicitors. Mr Stockton, may I introduce you to Mrs Swann?’
Her eyebrows rose. The short, balding man who stepped forward was no stranger. His wry smile as he removed his hat showed that he clearly remembered her, too.
If her appearance shocked him, he didn’t show it. He shook her hand warmly. ‘Ah! These young ladies came to my rescue last week,’ he informed the priest. ‘My papers were headed for the gutter but Mrs Swann and Mrs …?’
‘Benson, sir.’
‘And Mrs Benson, mercifully averted disaster.’
‘Take a seat, Mr Stockton, Father. I’ll brew a fresh pot while you discuss … matters. Mam’s out with the kiddies. You’ll not be disturbed.’
Tight-lipped, Sally watched Mr Stockton extract papers from his case. Agnes’s will. The very sight made her feel ill.
‘I trust you are aware of what this meeting is about, Mrs Swann? I believe Father Collins explained to Mrs Benson that the late Mrs Agnes Sharp—’
‘I know what this is about.’
His hands stilled on the documents he was sifting through. ‘I see—’
‘And I want no part in it whatsoever. I want nothing from that woman.’
‘Mrs Swann, I don’t quite—’
‘Do you have children, Mr Stockton?’
‘Why, yes. Two girls and a boy.’
She ignored Maggie’s soft sigh. ‘Tell me, sir. Have you ever caused them unnecessary pain? Do you relish seeing them upset? Would you deem it acceptable to destroy their lives?’
His mouth dropped open. ‘Absolutely not!’
‘Then you’ll understand when I tell you I won’t accept what that woman has bequeathed me.’
‘Mrs Swann, I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest notion what you’re talking about.’ He shot the priest a puzzled frown. ‘Father?’
‘The Sharps had … a tumultuous relationship, shall we say. I’m afraid at times one could only describe Mrs Sharp’s treatment of her daughter as deplorable.’ Father Collins looked at Sally kindly. ‘I think what Mrs Swann is trying to say is that she believes this money was merely a ploy to hurt Miss Sharp.’
Mr Stockton nodded slowly. ‘I see. However, Mrs Swann, you are quite wrong. Mrs Sharp has indeed bequeathed you a rather substantial sum but I’m certain it was not with the intention of hurting her daughter.’
‘Then why—?’
‘If I may?’ He selected a folded sheet sealed with a wax stamp. ‘I’m sure once you have seen this, all will become clear.’
‘Whatever the contents of that will …’
‘Will? No, no, Mrs Swann. This is no will.’ He pushed it towards her. ‘Are you able …?’
‘Quite, thank you,’ she affirmed with a proud lift of her chin. The daily readings Agnes insisted upon had vastly improved her literacy skills. She broke the seal and unfolded the sheet. ‘This is a letter.’
‘Indeed. Apparently, it explains everything.’
At Maggie’s encouraging smile, she began:
Well, girl. If you are reading this, I can be sure of two things: I am dead and my solicitor has earned his reward for a job well done.
Thus, he is not completely incompetent, despite his revolting habit of housing kipper skin in his teeth. Conversing with him is an altogether unpleasant experience, don’t you agree? His cook deserves a stern talking-to for serving such unappetising fare.
Sally glanced at Mr Stockton then back to the letter. Even in death, the old woman’s tongue was sharp enough to cut through steel.
I am guessing I have flummoxed you by bestowing such a generous gift. And, knowing you the little I do, I suspect you are considering rejecting this offer. I am right, aren’t I? You really ought to climb down from that high horse of yours occasionally.
Indignant colour flooded her cheeks, yet the hint of a smile hovered. Shaking her head, she continued.
In a moment, Mr Stockton will hand you an envelope. Contained within is two hundred pounds. It is yours to do with as you wish. I make no demands as to how you choose to spend it. However, if you do accept, it comes with but one condition.
My request is a lifelong commitment, but one I trust you will not deem undesirable. Prudence is now alone in the world and I want you to rectify that.
You must remain with her as friend and companion. You and your child will reside with her – my room is of an adequate size, I am sure. It is also of paramount importance that you assist my daughter in running the business. The shop is her main source of income; you must ensure that standards do not slip.
This may surprise you, but I care a great deal for my daughter. Her welfare after my death has concerned me a long while. The thought of her as destitute pains me considerably. You must ensure this never happens. Should you let the customers take advantage of her good nature, the business would go under in no time.
I have made some choices in my life of which I’m not proud. This, I am certain, is not one. I see something in you which I admire. You have integrity. You also possess a pure heart. I know you will not let me, or, more importantly, Prudence, down.
I leave you to ponder my terms. A comfortable life for you and your child and more money than you will know what to do with are yours for the taking, so long as you don’t allow your pride to rule your judgement. Know this and take my word as truth when I tell you I would not bestow such opportunity upon just anyone.
I did not make your position easy, yet you served me well. Take it, also, as a token of my appreciation. You have earned it, girl, thrice over.
Yours in hope and faith,
Mrs Agnes Elizabeth Sharp
The paper slipped from Sally’s fingers and fluttered to the floor.