It was only when she reached the Cock and Bear bridge that spanned the canal that Marcie allowed her footsteps to slow and then the tears came. Bitter tears for what might have been. Admittedly, she had coveted the life that George could have given her but she had loved him too, which made his rejection all the harder to bear. She was trudging down the hill as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders when she became aware of footsteps behind her and just for a moment her heart leapt. Perhaps it was George come to try and make amends after realising what a fool he had been!
But when she turned, she saw a dark figure ambling towards her and she knew instantly that this wasn’t George. Her heart began to thud painfully as the figure drew nearer and she lifted her skirts ready to run. But there was something vaguely familiar about him. And as he passed beneath the gas lamp, the breath caught in her throat. The man was filthy and unkempt with a beard that straggled beneath his chin and even from this distance she could smell the ripe scent of him, but there could be no doubt about it. His was a face she would never forget. A face she saw in her worst nightmares. It was her father.
‘Marcie, me little sweetheart, come ’ere an’ give yer old dad a nice cuddle now.’ He held his arms out to her but she recoiled as if she had been burned and her lip curled with contempt.
‘What are you doing back here?’ she spat. ‘Your landlady friend get sick of you, did she? I heard she’d left you and gone back to her old man with her tail between her legs.’
‘She was an arsehole,’ he said with a drunken grin. ‘But now I’m back I need somewhere to stay an’ I know me lovely lass won’t see me out on the streets, will yer?’
‘I wouldn’t piss on you in the gutter if you were on fire, let alone give you house room,’ Marcie ground out. ‘It’s all because of you me mam is dead. If you hadn’t been such a lousy swine she might still be alive. I suppose you know by now that she was murdered!’
‘Aye, I know, an’ all I can say is she got what was comin’ to her,’ he said nastily. ‘But now how about givin’ yer old dad a few pence to tide him over, eh?’
Marcie had heard enough and couldn’t stand there and listen to any more from him. ‘I wouldn’t give you the snot from the end of my nose. Now get back into the gutter where you crawled from,’ she said. ‘I don’t ever want to set eyes on your face again.’ And with that she was off. And just when I thought things couldn’t get much worse, she thought gloomily as she hurried along.
Back at Haunchwood House the guests were departing just as quickly as they were able to. The party was well and truly over and Johnny Dorsey was in a towering rage.
‘You stupid young fool!’ he berated George. ‘You’ve ruined everything now, an’ all because you couldn’t keep your dick in yer trousers! Why, for two pins I’d cut you out o’ me will.’ He had hauled George into his office out of earshot of the guests.
‘Look, Father, why don’t you wait until the morning when you’ve had chance to calm down,’ Oliver suggested, ever the peacemaker, but his words only seemed to incense his father more.
‘Fine advice comin’ from you,’ he ranted as he poked his son in the chest. ‘When from what I’m hearin’ you’re gettin’ too close for comfort to the trollop’s sister. What is it about those girls? Are they bloody witches or sommat?’
‘Now calm down, Johnny,’ a distraught Connie urged. ‘You’re doin’ yourself no good at all gettin’ yourself all worked up like this.’
‘Pah!’ Johnny glared at her, then turning on his heel he barged out of the room, slamming the door so hard behind him that it seemed to dance on its hinges.
‘And you, young man!’ She wagged a stern finger at George. ‘I suggest you keep well out of your father’s way for a few days, if you know what’s good for you, and let him calm down.’
‘Bloody women,’ George muttered as he left the room feeling sorry for himself. Many of his friends from school had bedded maids without all this fuss and palaver. But something was niggling at the back of his mind. How had Marcie known it was his engagement ball this evening? Someone must have told her and he had a damned good idea who it was. Eliza! He remembered the way she had started when he found her with his father’s address book in the office and the way she had slammed it shut. Had Marcie asked her friend to get the Lewises’ address for her so that she could carry out her threat? He certainly wouldn’t put it past her. And then perhaps she had decided that rather than write to them she would wait and have the ultimate revenge by turning up at the ball. Well, she’d certainly achieved that, he thought angrily. Marcie had wiped away the future he had planned in an instant, for he knew that there was no way on earth Belinda would ever speak to him again now, her father would make sure of that!
‘Damn her to hell!’ he said furiously as he swiped a fine Dresden figurine from a small table in the hall. It smashed into a thousand pieces and he stepped through them as he stormed off towards the stables. There was only one way to work this mood off and that was to give his horse a good stiff gallop. It didn’t matter to him that Prince would be settled in his stable for the night or that it was pitch dark outside, nor that he was totally inadequately dressed for riding. All he knew was that if he didn’t get rid of some of the pent-up fury inside him he was in danger of exploding.
The grooms were still busily leading the guests’ horses back around to the front of the house and seeing the carriages safely on their way when he entered the stable yard. Word had clearly already spread about what had happened and most of them lowered their heads when they saw him. On a few others’ faces he thought he detected a smirk and he had to clench his fists to stop himself tearing into them.
‘Bates,’ he addressed the young junior groom. ‘Get Prince saddled for me! Now!’
The young man looked horrified. ‘B-but he’s settled, sir.’
‘Are you questioning me, boy?’ George’s eyes were sparking and the young lad quickly shook his head.
‘Oh no, sir. I’ll fetch him straight away.’
‘See that you do!’ George snatched up a riding crop then strode across the yard to wait in the laundry room. It was better than standing outside having everyone gawping at him, he supposed. He was going to be a laughing stock now!
The room was in darkness but he had been in there no more than a few minutes when he sensed that he was not alone. Turning, he peered into the darkness and seconds later a figure approached him. It was Eliza, who had just delivered a load of dirty tablecloths for washing the next morning.
George could hardly believe his luck! He had been waiting to question her about her part in this whole sorry mess and now here she was! She clearly knew what had happened because she was staring at him with a guilty expression on her face.
He stepped in front of the door, tapping the crop into his palm as he asked, ‘Satisfied now, are you?’ His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could just make out her face in the light through the window. She looked absolutely terrified. And so she should, he thought.
‘I … I don’t know what yer mean, Master George.’ There was a tremble in her voice but he ignored it. He wanted her to be afraid.
‘Oh, so it wasn’t you who told Marcie about my engagement ball tonight?’
‘P-perhaps she heard about it in town,’ Eliza faltered.
‘I rather believe she heard it from you after you took the Lewises’ address from my father’s book that day I caught you in the office,’ he said accusingly.
Eliza flinched. He knew, she could see it in his eyes and now panic set in.
‘I … I thought she was just going to write to ’em,’ she babbled. ‘I had no idea she was going to come here!’
‘You bitch!’ Raising the riding crop George brought it crashing down on her shoulder and she squealed with pain as she sprang further back into the room.
‘I … I’m sorry,’ she yelped. She was sobbing now but George was in no mood for her apologies. He raised the crop again and this time it whistled past her shoulder and struck her neck beneath the mob cap she was wearing. An angry red weal immediately began to rise on her skin. She screamed again as she made a frantic dash for the door as the blows rained down on her but then her foot caught in the hem of her skirt and she felt herself falling. He watched as her head connected with the deep stone sink and there was a sickening thud and suddenly she was on the floor, blood spreading in a pool about her head and trickling from her nose as she lay quite still.
George gulped. ‘Eliza … get up!’ He nudged her still body with the toe of his highly polished boot but she made no movement and in that moment, it came to him that she was dead.
‘Is everything all right in there?’ A voice from beyond the door made him start. He had killed her. He would have to get away unless he wanted to find himself dangling from a hangman’s noose!
Flinging the door wide he saw Prince, ready and saddled across the yard and in seconds he had sprung onto his back and was galloping away as if the devil himself was on his heels. He had no idea where he was going, all he knew was that he must get as far away from there as possible before they found Eliza’s body. What had started as a most enjoyable evening had turned into a complete nightmare and one thing was for sure, he would never be able to go home again.
Once back at Molly’s house, Marcie found her banking down the fire. The rest of the family had gone to bed and noting the girl’s pale face, Molly asked, ‘Are you all right, pet? You’re as white as a sheet.’
‘I … I just bumped into my father,’ Marcie told her shakily.
‘Oh!’ Molly sat back abruptly on her heels. She’d heard some bad things about the man and could understand why Molly was so upset about him turning up out of the blue again after leaving them as he had.
‘Has he changed?’ she asked.
Marcie shook her head. Everything that had happened that night was catching up with her now and she was trembling. ‘He don’t appear to have,’ she said miserably. ‘He looked like a tramp and smelled something terrible.’
‘Well, it might be as well if you warned Nessie that he’s back on the scene rather than him turn up on her doorstep and give her a shock,’ Molly advised sensibly. ‘But for now I should try an’ get some rest. Seein’ him again has obviously shaken you.’
‘It has,’ Marcie admitted as she sat down at the side of the fire and wrapped her arms about herself. Far more than you could ever know, she thought, as Molly headed off for bed.
Round at the funeral parlour, Nessie was doing her last-minute chores before going upstairs. She’d not long since returned from the soup kitchen and was looking forward to going to bed. It had been a long day and her feet were aching. When she was satisfied that all was safe in the shop she went back through to the living quarters, passing Andre on the way. He was in a shirt with the collar undone and the sleeves rolled up, and without his formal jacket and cravat he looked completely different.
‘Ah.’ He smiled at her. ‘Forgive my informal attire. I just went through to get my book. I had left it in the office.’ He waved it at her. It was one by Charles Dickens. Both of them were avid readers, which was something they had in common, although Nessie didn’t find nearly as much time as she would have liked to read.
‘There’s nothing like a good book to help you get off to sleep.’ Nessie smiled. ‘My trouble is I always tend to fall asleep after reading the first couple of pages.’
It was then that they both heard a knock on the kitchen door and they frowned as they glanced quizzically at each other. If it was someone who was needing Andre’s services they would usually come to the shop door so Nessie had no idea who it could be so late at night.
‘I shall stand here while you answer it,’ Andre said protectively and with a nod she hurried across the room.
As she inched the door open the light from the lamp spilled out into the yard. ‘Yes? May I help you?’ she asked the dark form that stood there.
‘Yer certainly can, an’ yer can start by puttin’ the kettle on, I’m fair dyin’ fer a decent cuppa!’ Nessie gasped as she reeled back into the room and the man followed her, gazing around appreciatively. ‘Nice set-up you’ve got yerself here. Seth Grimshaw said as yer were livin’ wi’ the undertaker.’
Before she could say a word, Andre stepped forward, his face set. ‘Who is this man?’
‘I-it’s my father,’ Nessie answered, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her. She had never felt so ashamed.
‘And do you wish him to be here?’
She shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him and had hoped that she would never have to see him again.
‘In that case, I must ask you to leave, sir.’ Andre drew himself up to his full height as the smarmy false smile slid from her father’s face.
‘Are you really goin’ to allow this ponce to chuck me out in the street?’ he asked his daughter incredulously.
‘Yes, Dad … I am, and please never come here or try to contact me again. The day you walked out and left us all was the day I decided I no longer had a father and nothing has changed. For all you cared we could have ended up in the workhouse and we probably would have if it wasn’t for the way Mam almost worked herself to death. Now please leave, there’s no more to be said!’
Andre took a menacing step forward and Bill Carson scowled. ‘Well, at least I know where I stand now, don’t I? Huh! You’ll be no loss – none of yer!’ And with that he shuffled back out of the door and Andre slammed it resoundingly behind him.
At that moment Reuben appeared at the bottom of the stairs, disturbed by all the commotion.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked blearily as he knuckled the sleep from his eyes.
‘Dad just paid us a visit,’ Nessie told him. She expected him to look shocked but instead he lowered his eyes and in that moment, she realised. ‘You knew he was back in town, didn’t you?’ she accused.
Reuben remained silent but in her mind she saw him talking to the person in the shadows in town. It had been her father, she was sure of it, and Reuben was handing him something. Could it have been the money that he had tried to hide beneath his mattress?
Nessie was leaning heavily on the back of a chair now, her face as pale as lint, but suddenly remembering Andre was still standing there she managed a grateful smile.
‘Thank you, Andre. I’m so glad that you were here.’
‘Any time, mademoiselle.’ Looking between brother and sister and sensing they needed some privacy, he tactfully headed back to his own quarters, leaving them alone.