‘COLLEEN! IT’S GRAND to see ye, so it is—’
‘Is my uncle home?’
The maid’s delighted smile slipped. ‘Sure, it’s mighty early – he’s still in his bed.’ She held the door wide. ‘Will ye come in?’
‘Ta, Bridget.’
Clearly sensing that something wasn’t right, she didn’t correct Laura’s usage of her given name. ‘Everything well? You seem—’
‘Not really, nay.’ Feeling tears well at the Irishwoman’s concern, she swallowed them back desperately. She couldn’t – wouldn’t – crumble. Not today. Not here. ‘I must speak with my uncle urgently. Will you waken him, please?’
‘Right so.’
As she waited in the hall Laura took the time to steady her breathing. Maintaining composure and self-control were vital; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her anguish, not ever again. Her weakness would be her undoing, and she was damned if she’d let that happen.
‘To what do I owe this pleasure, then?’
‘Father’s dead.’
Midway down the stairs, Ambrose juddered to a halt with a gasp. Mouth falling slack, he shook his head. ‘You’re a liar. A barefaced, stinking little—!’
‘Orphan, Uncle Ambrose, is the word you’re looking for.’
‘Nay …’
‘And you’re to blame. Ain’t yer?’
He stumbled down a stair or two. Then his face contorted into a look of such murderous rage Laura took an involuntary step back. With a roar, he thundered down the remaining stairs and, seizing her round the waist, bundled her into the kitchen. She broke free, panting with her own anger and not a little fear, and scurried to put the table between them and thus gain her some seconds of breathing space until she figured out what to do.
But Ambrose made the choice for her. He sent the door crashing shut. Then he slid his back down it and crumpled in a heap on the flagged floor. He buried his face in his hands. ‘I don’t … What’s …? How?’ he gabbled in broken snatches.
She hadn’t expected this. His vulnerability momentarily threw her; she’d never seen a chink of weakness in his hardened armour before.
‘The lad’s really dead?’
‘Yesterday. It was his heart. And your little jaunt to Bolton is the cause of it. Adam’s brothers have been on t’ warpath since Adam’s death – they wrongly believe I killed him,’ she revealed, figuring she might as well spill the history now. What was there left to lose, after all? ‘Your careless talk must have got back to them and they came to this city in search of me. Only they got to Father first. Their threats were enough to bring about an attack of the heart.
‘Why did you do it?’ she continued on a tortured rasp. ‘Malice? Revenge? And for what? Because I refused your filthy advances? I deserve this – Father deserved to die – because a disgusting beast wants to mess around, in the worst possible way, with his own niece? D’you hear that? D’you hear how it sounds? Well, do you?’
‘The lad, I never meant … Mine’s but healthy urges, that’s all. A fella has needs—!’
‘Rancid, that’s what you are,’ she cut in, throwing the words at him like blades. ‘I thanked Christ that Father hadn’t had to know about his brother, knew it would have finished him off for sure. Well. You’ve put paid to that, ain’t yer? You killed him anyroad. You killed him!’
‘Let me make it up to thee.’ Ambrose had risen, was making his way towards her. ‘Let me—’
‘Get back! Don’t you dare come anywhere near me!’
‘Lass …’
‘I want nowt from thee. Nowt at all!’
‘Our Amos would want me to see right by thee. I’m all the kin tha has left. Now then. You’ll leave that dirty court this very day and move back in here. I insist.’
Laura’s laugh was hollow with loss, but her eyes burned with a hatred she could never have contained. ‘You’re serious … I’d sooner die myself.’
‘You need me, and you know it.’
‘I need a depraved madman like thee? Huh. I’d rather starve in the gutter than depend on you for support, financial or otherwise.’ She lifted her chin. ‘As it happens, you’re wrong about summat else, an’ all: I do have other kin of my own. Least I will have shortly.’ She nodded at his frown. ‘Your employee, Nathan, has asked me to marry him and I said yes. So you see, Uncle, I neither desire nor require a single thing from you – not now, not ever again.’
‘You’ll not wed that bombastic young buck! I’ll … I’ll …’
‘You’ll do what? You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do – I’m of age, remember, don’t require a guardian or the permission of one, neither. Besides, it’s what Father wanted.’
‘And what of thee? I notice there were no talk of love in that there speech?’
His sly smile and the flush it brought to her cheeks had her shaking with frustration. Damn him! How she loathed this man. Why, in the name of God, had she and her father ever come here? If only she could turn back the clock. Somehow, she’d see him pay for all he’d done, if it was the last thing she did.
‘I’m right, then, aye? You’re marrying that pup for security, nowt more. But you see, you’ve not the need to do it, for you have it here, with me, in abundance—’
‘Get out of my way.’
Laura pushed past him and stalked to the door. Before she could wrench it open and make hasty her exit, however, Ambrose threw a final gambit that stopped her in her tracks. She turned slowly.
‘Aye, that’s right.’ Puffing out his chest, her uncle repeated, ‘You marry that lad and he’s finished at the yard. I’ll see to it that he never finds work with another coal merchant this side of the Irwell whilst I’m at it. You’ll be penniless, done for.’
He meant it. She had no doubts on that. If he could as easily dismiss his own brother as he had, he’d have no qualms with a man he’d always shown disregard for. Nathan enjoyed his job; hadn’t he spoken so himself only last week? What on earth would he do without it? How could this man do this? Why was he intent on ruining her and all she held dear?
‘Just try me,’ Ambrose added, taking her silence as a sign she was wavering.
But no, never. As sorry as she was for Nathan, she could never return to this house, to him. She shook her head. ‘You’re good at that, eh? Cutting off your nose to spite your face. Chucking out members of your workforce on a whim. That’s all you’ve got, the only power you can wield. You really are pathetic. So, do as you like. Your evil can’t buy me back. I’d happily live on them mean streets out there with him than dwell here with you.’
‘I’m warning thee—’
‘Nay, Uncle. You don’t get to do that no more. I’m going now, and I don’t ever want to see your face again. And another thing: don’t show up to Father’s funeral, for you ain’t welcome.’
‘We’ll see about that! He was my brother!’
‘Aye, when it suited thee. Just you steer clear.’
‘Upstart bitch! I hope them brothers-in-law of yourn find thee! D’you hear? I hope they tear your head from your neck!’
‘Goodbye, Uncle Ambrose.’
‘You’ll be back, mark my words. You’ll be back!’
Without another word, Laura stalked from the kitchen and left the house. She’d gone a few yards when a voice called her name. She glanced back to see Bridget motioning for her to wait. The maid closed the door to behind her and hurried into the street to meet her. She was pale, her eyes red-rimmed, and her lips were all aquiver. It didn’t take a genius to work out that she’d picked up from outside in the hall what had just passed between her master and his niece.
‘Colleen …’
‘Aye.’ It was all Laura could lay her tongue to. What else was there to say?
‘’Tis mortal sorry I am. About your father. About … everything.’
‘Why do you stay, Bridget?’ She flicked her gaze to the house. ‘That man in there is wicked beyond words. He cares naught for no one but hisself. No one,’ she reiterated, and nodded when the Irishwoman blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘You ain’t the only one who’s overheard … things,’ she admitted quietly.
‘May Mary, Mother of God, forgive me.’ Bridget dipped her head. ‘I just, I live in hope that one day …’ She lifted her shoulders in a miserable shrug.
Love really was blind. Deaf, dumb and daft at times, too, aye. Didn’t she know all about that? Hadn’t she herself fallen victim to its curse with Adam Cannock? She pressed the older woman’s hand. ‘You know where to find me. Take care, Bridget.’
‘And yourself, colleen.’
Arriving home, Laura passed Nathan in the court leaving for work. She swallowed hard. Would he even have a position to go to? Figuring it was pointless either of them worrying unnecessarily until the worst had happened, she assured him all had gone well with her uncle and saw him on his way with a smile. Then, sighing, she made her way to Mrs Price’s humble abode.
The old woman had been kindness itself. She’d sat up with Laura until the early hours last night, simply offering a listening ear and a comforting hand, as Laura cried and railed at the unfairness of life, talked of her childhood and reminisced of years and people gone by. In fact, everyone at Ebenezer Court had been genuinely lovely and understanding of her loss.
Outsiders could say what they liked about who they deemed the lowly, the savage, the undesirables – slum folk, in other words – but they themselves knew different. Bad apples grew amongst them, of course they did, but you found that in any walk of life. Truth was, you’d be hard pressed to find a more loyal and supportive class of souls in the whole of the world.
Times like these highlighted this more than ever and made Laura proud to be one of their number. They banded together in the face of difficulties like never before, ensuring no one felt alone. That she and her father were relative strangers made no difference. She was humbled and more grateful than she could put into words.
‘How’s tha fettling this morning, lass?’ asked Joyce, who was sat enjoying a cup of tea with the old woman by the fire.
Removing her shawl and draping it over the back of a chair, Laura shrugged. ‘I don’t really know. Numb, I suppose.’
‘Aye, well, it’s to be expected. It’s a fair fearsome shock you’ve suffered and it’ll take time to sink in. You have us lot, whether tha likes it or not, in t’ meantime.’ Joyce winked softly. ‘You remember that.’
‘Ta, thanks,’ she murmured past the lump in her throat. ‘I don’t know where I’d be without youse all right now.’
‘Eeh, poor love.’ Mrs Price felt around the table until her hand brushed the teapot. From years of practice, she expertly filled a cup without spilling a drop and passed it across. ‘Come on, sup up. It’s a reet tough morning you’ve had, you having to break such tidings to your uncle.’
‘How did he take it, love?’ added Joyce.
Laura lifted then dropped her shoulders again. ‘As well as you can expect,’ she said eventually, her attention on her tea. ‘Mrs Price, I was wondering … would you mind very much if I stayed on here with thee? Just till the wedding, I mean? My uncle did offer me my owd room back at his but I … Well. I like it better here. Please?’
‘That tha even had to wonder on it! ’Course tha can.’
They sipped their brews in companionable silence for a few minutes until Joyce asked, ‘Have you given thought as to what you’ll do with your house in t’ meantime, lass? Heaven only knows that landlord of ours won’t stand for it if the rent ain’t in his grubby paw on time. What with you not in work and your father, God rest his soul, gone … You’ll be hard pressed to keep the place on.’
‘I shall just have to find employment. I’d hate to lose the house and, besides, me and Nathan will need somewhere of our own to live once we’re wed.’
They nodded at one another in agreement, then each glanced to the door as a knock sounded. Joyce went to answer it and a comely young woman with dark hair and deep brown eyes followed her back inside.
‘I don’t think youse have made acquaintance proper as yet, have yer? Laura, love, this is Lizzie, Bee O’Brien’s eldest – or Busy Lizzie as she’s known, for she never sits still, nay. Allus on t’ go, she is.’ She chuckled. ‘Lizzie, meet Laura, our Nathan’s intended.’
‘Laura: eeh, that’s a bonny name.’ Lizzie’s smile lit the room. ‘Pleased to know thee, I’m sure.’
Laura liked her instantly. ‘Aye, you too.’
‘I am sorry about your father.’
‘Ta, thanks.’
‘’Ere, but many congratulations on your betrothal. Nathan’s a good ’un. They both are.’ Lizzie’s gaze swivelled to Joyce then, and of her, she enquired, ‘Daniel’s well?’
Seeing the girl’s eyes sparkle at Joyce’s nod, Laura knew a queer sense of unease. That Lizzie carried a liking for the elder brother was evident. Did he reciprocate her feelings? And what on earth did it matter to her?
‘Any idea as yet when the wedding will be?’ Lizzie chirped, bringing Laura back to the present. Plonking herself down at the table, she reached for the teapot. ‘Sure, I’d be happy to bake your bride’s cake for the occasion.’
‘The lass here’s what you might call a master confectioner in t’ making,’ said Joyce. ‘Never have I tasted owt as light and delicious as what Lizzie here creates. Am I right, Mrs Price?’
‘Oh, that you are, wench.’
The girl blushed a pleasant shade of pink. ‘Go on with youse! Sure, they’re not that good,’ she insisted modestly, but it was clear she was delighted with the praise and passionate about her craft.
‘Thanks, aye. That’s kind of thee.’
‘My pleasure, Laura. Now then,’ she added, turning to the old woman, ‘do you want owt doing, Mrs Price?’ And she was up again, shifting from foot to foot, as though being idle was for her an impossibility. ‘Owt fetching from the shops, like? A bit of dusting or sweeping in here, mebbe?’
Mrs Price was about to answer but Joyce interrupted her – something outside had caught her attention. She rose slowly with a frown. ‘What the …?’
‘What is it?’ Laura followed her gaze to the window. Spying Nathan crossing the cobbles sent her guts lurching in cold dread. God above, Ambrose had done it.
‘What’s that lad of mine doing home, then? He’s barely been gone a few minutes!’
‘I’ll go,’ Laura murmured as Joyce moved to the door.
Hands thrust deep in his pockets, Nathan was pacing back and forth across the tiny yard, his face a picture of disbelief and confusion. He didn’t seem to hear her saying his name and only paused when she touched his arm. He stared down at her blankly.
‘Lad?’ Though she knew exactly what troubled him, she asked anyway. ‘What’s wrong? Why you not in work?’
‘Your uncle. He … He’s let me go.’
She closed her eyes in despair.
‘Why, lass? Why would he do it?’
I loath you so much I can taste it, she inwardly raged. Why are you doing this to us?
‘He gave no reason, none at all. Just told me to collect my things and leave, for he didn’t need me no more. I just don’t understand it. Why now? You’d think with me soon to be family and all … It’s ruined everything.’
His devastation – and that she was the cause – crushed her. ‘Nay. Nay, it hasn’t, it—’
‘We can’t marry now. Least not yet. How will we afford a wedding, a home of our own, with no brass coming in?’
‘Nathan, lad.’ She struggled to hold back her tears. ‘I’m sorry …’
‘Hey, nay. Don’t you be blaming yourself just ’cause he’s your kin.’ Regaining his composure in the face of her anguish, wanting to reassure her because that was the positive sort of person he was, he took her hands in his and brought them to his chest. ‘The man’s a swine; this is his doing and his alone.’
‘We … crossed swords. Earlier, when I went to inform him of Father’s passing.’ She tried to pick her words carefully so as not to give away the whole truth. She couldn’t bear Nathan – couldn’t bear anyone – knowing … that. God no. ‘He don’t like the idea of us wedding. So you see, I can’t go round there and try to appeal to his better nature on this, can’t reason with him to take thee back on, for he’d not budge.’
‘Reckons I’m too beneath thee, eh? Pompous owd goat, he’s nowt else. And anyroad, I’d not go back to his crummy yard now for a gold watch. He’s never taken to me, that’s the top and bottom of it. It’s a miracle he’s kept me on this long.’
‘I hate him, Nathan. I hate him!’
‘Well, he don’t do hisself no favours, does he? He makes it nigh on impossible to like him; he’d try the patience of a saint, aye. But ’ere,’ he added, smiling now, ‘you’re not to worry none. We’ll find a way. As for your father’s funeral … this won’t affect nowt. I intended to pay for it myself out of what I’ve been saving. We’ll give that good fella a decent send-off, you’ll see.’
‘You’d do that for me?’
‘’Course, aye.’
‘I don’t … don’t know what to say.’ Now, her emotion spilled over; she covered her face with her hands. ‘You’re so kind, so kind … I don’t deserve thee.’
‘Now that’s daft talk. I’m the lucky ’un, bagging thee. You deserve all I can humanly offer and more besides. I’d do owt for you, Laura. I love you.’
‘Eeh, lad.’ Though she didn’t, couldn’t for the life of her, say it back – she wanted to so much, but the words just wouldn’t form – she portrayed her gratefulness to have him in a hug. ‘I were contemplating selling Kenneth and the cart to cover costs. After all, with Father gone, there ain’t the use for them … now …’ She licked her lips in excitement as a thought occurred. ‘That’s it.’
‘What is?’
‘Have you been to see Father’s employer yet?’
‘Nay. I planned to call in t’ undertakers then on to Mr Howarth’s yard during my dinner break today. Why? What you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking you could take over the round.’
‘Me, deliver coal?’
‘Aye, why not? You said yourself that toiling in black gold is your life – well, you’d still do that, only you’ll be humping sacks of the stuff rather than shovelling it. There’s the horse and the cart sitting there ready. And I’d accompany thee if you’d like, till you learned the ropes. What d’you say?’
‘I say it’s a bloomin’ marvellous idea.’ Nathan’s grin stretched from ear to ear.
‘Come on, then.’ Taking his hand again with a smile, she hurried him out of the court. ‘There’s no time like the present.’
She’d show Ambrose. If he believed he could best her that easily, he had another thing coming.
Thirty minutes later, it was settled.
The job was Nathan’s if he wanted it. Laura could have cried with relief.
Mr Howarth had offered his condolences regarding Amos and shrugged when the idea of the younger man taking over his position was put to him. So long as someone was available to keep his customers supplied with fuel, he was satisfied with the new arrangement.
‘You’ll not let no one turn your thinking, sir, will you?’ Laura had beseeched tentatively as they were leaving. ‘My uncle, you see, he … don’t much care for the lad here – not that there’s a reason for it, you understand? – and well … he might try and twist thee into letting him go. But there’ll be no truth to owt his mind might concoct as reason for it. He’s nobbut a rotten liar, that’s all.’
‘I judge a man on what I see with my own two eyes, lass, not what’s fed to my ears by others,’ he’d assured her. ‘If the lad passes muster, then we shan’t have a problem.’
And that had been that. After thanking him, she and Nathan had continued on their way for the undertakers with easier hearts.
At one point during the journey guilt had crept in to dim her quiet happiness a little. Father wasn’t even resting in the ground yet and already they were filling his shoes. But she knew her feelings to be unwarranted. Amos would have accepted wholeheartedly, would have urged them to strike before the grass grew under their feet. Moreover, he’d have been delighted that Kenneth was to stay in the trade, and particularly in the family. They had made the right decision.
Choking tears came immediately they entered their next port of call; Laura gulped them back desperately, but it did little good. The oppressive room, three walls of which were lined with coffins of varying size and quality, pressed down on her like a physical thing, making it difficult to breathe, and she almost turned tail and ran at the magnitude of her reason for being here. Father was dead. Then an arm went about her and stayed there, its warm firmness holding her safe, and she nodded. So long as Nathan was by her side, she could see this through.
The sombre-faced undertaker listened to their request with small nods and expertly timed sympathetic sounds. That he’d been in the industry of death for many years and knew exactly how to handle strangers’ raw grief was clear to see. He knew precisely what his customers wanted even before they did.
‘Plain deal wood, I think.’ He spoke to himself, scribbling notes into a large, leather-bound book. ‘Unlined. No coffin furniture.’
‘Coffin furniture?’ Laura asked.
‘That’s right, my dear. Raised metal embellishments to the sides and lid. Such ornamentation lends a classical kind of charm. Images of angels, urns of flowers, even death’s heads and crossbones, that sort of thing.’
And a bonny penny that would cost, no doubt. Amos would have been horrified at the extravagance. She shook her head. ‘Nay, thank you. Summat simple, as you say.’
‘Yes, yes. That can certainly be arranged. Now, may I have the deceased’s particulars, to be engraved on the breastplate? Name, age and date of passing, if you please.’
‘Amos,’ she murmured. ‘Amos Todd.’
The undertaker lifted his eyes from his desk. A small frown pulled at his dark brows. ‘Amos Todd?’
‘That’s right.’
He sifted through some papers to the side of him, extracted one and ran his gaze over it. ‘Amos Todd,’ he said again. ‘Of number five Ebenezer Court, Manchester?’
‘Aye, but …’ Laura looked to Nathan in bewilderment. ‘How …?’
‘A Mr Ambrose Todd arrived here requiring my services for the self-same departed man not half an hour ago.’
Well, of all the …
‘Let me see,’ the undertaker went on, running his finger down the page. ‘Ah yes. Carved oaken coffin, black crêpe lining, decorative brass screws and handles … It’s all here.’
She breathed deeply. How dare he! She’d let it be known in no uncertain terms only that morning that she wanted nothing from him. This ostentatious gesture was nothing more than a means to salve his conscience. She’d sooner sell every possession she owned, the very clothes off her back, to pay for her father’s send-off than be beholden to her uncle. He just had to meddle, couldn’t help himself. Well, she’d soon rectify that.
She turned back to Nathan, intent on insisting they wouldn’t accept this, her uncle’s blood money, when she suddenly remembered. It wasn’t her funds that were paying for this, though, was it? It was the lad’s here. How could she ask him to hand over his hard-toiled-for savings still now? Then Nathan was speaking and she could have wept all over again:
‘Sir. This ’ere’s Amos Todd’s daughter and my wife-to-be. We’ll be covering the fee the day. You can return his brother’s money in full, for it’s not needed.’
‘But lad, is tha sure?’ she whispered, grasping his arm.
Nodding, he dropped a feathery kiss on to her brow. ‘I am.’
‘Indeed. Well.’ Clearly puzzled, unused to such scenarios – and no doubt somewhat piqued that profit from this funeral had plummeted considerably, though he did his professional best to mask it – the undertaker cleared his throat. ‘Of course, if you’re sure.’
‘We are, aye.’
‘As you wish. Now then, where were we …’
‘I’ll pay you back,’ Laura told Nathan earnestly, drawing him to a halt when business was conducted and they emerged outside. ‘Every copper coin, I swear it.’
‘Now don’t talk daft. What’s mine is yours, now, lass.’ He laughed. ‘That ain’t much and never shall be, I’ll be bound, but you’re welcome to it all t’ same.’
She really had struck gold with him. So why couldn’t she answer even to herself whether she loved him? And did it matter?
Folk from across all walks of life seldom married for that one, unadulterated emotion alone. More a question of convenience, in all its forms. Be it for security, companionship or a means of escape, unions were often gone into on the whisperings of the head rather than the heart. And in time, if you were lucky and treated well, what you started out with usually grew into something deeper – love, hopefully.
Would she learn to love him? Laura pondered as they made the short journey home.
Again, she hadn’t the answer. But she was willing to give it a damn good try.