Chapter 17

‘I told one of the waiters who always admired that creep Birbeck to shut his mouth because he just doesn’t know what he’s on about. I never did like that Roger – I always thought he was slimy. Besides, he only liked him because he thought he could get one over on the other waiters. Anyway, he’s just as big a creep.’ Shona stood with her back to the bar, spouting her thoughts to the other two bar girls.

‘I’m just glad Mary seems to be all right after her ordeal. At least Mr Winfield is standing by her. Sometimes the men can gang up on us women and say that we have been leading them on and that we deserve what we get,’ Beth said and shook her head.

‘Nah, William Winfield would never do that with Mary – have you not seen the way he looks at her when he thinks we’re not noticing? Mark my words, he has desires on her himself, if she did but know it,’ Shona said, laughing.

‘Now, that would be a scandal, a common bar lass marrying the owner of this place!’ Shona grinned.

‘Well, my mam says the Winfields came from nothing anyway, that they’ve worked for every penny they’ve made, so why shouldn’t he look at someone who’s just ordinary?’ Beth added and then glanced up, noticing Mary talking in the lobby with the visiting crowds before walking towards them. ‘Shush, she’s here. She must be feeling well enough to join us. I thought that it would be a cold day in hell if she didn’t show her face for the celebrations.’

The girls left off their tittle-tattle and made busy serving their stream of never-ending customers.

‘We are busy, I see. I knew I’d be wanted. I suppose the word and the gossip has got around?’ Mary looked at the girls and knew instantly that she had been the centre of their conversation that day.

‘Yes, Mary. So, are you all right? Mr Winfield came to tell us and he was so concerned; we didn’t expect you back at work today,’ Molly said and put her hand tenderly on Mary’s shoulder.

‘Roger Birbeck’s certainly not going to stop me from doing my job! Besides, look, we are full to the rafters with folk. I’m surprised you had time to stop and discuss me and the ogre Roger Birbeck.’ Mary smiled dryly, knowing full well the chatter and gossip they would still be indulging in without her presence.

‘We have, but we’ve also been rushed off our feet, so it is really good to have you back – as long as you’re feeling up to working. We want you to know that none of us believe that you would have encouraged Roger and that we all disliked him from the moment he came to work here. Mr Winfield was very sympathetic towards you and he didn’t hold back on his anger about what happened,’ Molly said and looked around at Shona and Beth, who both supported her words with smiles as they served their customers.

‘Yes, well, don’t let him spoil our day. It’s a celebration and he’s not going to get the better of me. Now, how are Mr Winfield’s fancy new drinks selling? Anyone tried one yet?’ Mary looked behind the bar and noticed that the newly purchased ice bucket had no ice in it.

Shona, noticing her gaze, replied quickly, ‘I’m sorry, but none of us wanted to go down to the cellar to get the ice. Not after what happened to you. It’s dark and it’s cold down there and you don’t know who’s lurking in the shadows.’

‘Oh, don’t be so silly, nothing’s going to happen down there. It was just me he was after. Here, give me the bucket.’ Mary took the ice bucket and looked at the girls before marching off through the lobby and the busy dining room and kitchens to the cellar. She caught her breath and halted as she looked down the stairs and remembered her ordeal. No, she had to conquer her fear; Roger Birbeck was safe and sound behind bars and there was nobody lurking down there, just as she’d said to her girls. Quickly, she went down the stairs, past the place where she was attacked, and made for the block of ice, which was just how she had left it that morning. She lifted the ice pick up from where it had been left that morning and came down hard with it, again and again, filling the bucket with shards of ice before hurriedly returning up into the light and bustle of the kitchen.

Mary smiled and nodded to herself. She had overcome her fear – Roger Birbeck would not get the better of her. However, she couldn’t help but think that the story might have been different, had he attacked her with the ice pick. She should be thankful she had her life.

The noise in the bar and along the streets was deafening. The dining room of the Palace was heaving – the towns-folk of Leeds didn’t need any excuse to enjoy themselves when given the chance. It was mid-afternoon and the streets were crowded with people waving Union Jacks and watching the parades; the dignitaries and the rich and famous rode proudly by in horse-driven carriages.

Mary told the girls to go and watch for a while when the main group started to go past the windows of the Palace. They needed no encouragement to grab their flags and go and wave and cheer, leaving her to hold the fort at the bar. She didn’t mind, they would soon return to her, along with the drinkers who had joined them outside cheering the parade on. She herself didn’t feel like cheering; the morning’s happenings were weighing heavy on her mind. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had led Roger Birbeck on when she had only intended friendship. Perhaps she deserved what he had done to her because she had turned her back on him of late … However, what her mind was thinking about most was the invitation from William Winfield to join him at his family home for dinner. She had decided that she couldn’t possibly accept; he’d asked her out of pity, surely? What would a gentleman like him want with a girl like her? She’d dreamed about it but had never expected him ever to realise that she existed apart from running the bar.

‘How’re my new drinks selling?’ William, seeing the bar nearly deserted, wandered in, giving a quick glance to Leonard as he played a soft, soothing melody before taking a seat and looking at the woman who had more pluck than any man serving with the Leeds Police Force.

‘I’m afraid they aren’t. I’ve tried hard since I came back to get people to try them, but they shake their heads. They do, however, enjoy having a sprinkle of ice in their plain gin and tonics. I’ve sold more, especially to the ladies, as they think it might have medicinal purposes as well as being an enjoyable drink. So ordering ice will be put onto my list of things to do.’

‘Perhaps my ideas are a little too progressive. My American friends always fill my head with ideas but it takes the people of Leeds a little time to catch on to new ways to have their drink. These new cocktails will be popular sometime soon, I’m sure.’ William smiled and then looked at Mary with concern. ‘Are you feeling all right? You’ve got over your shock?’

‘Yes, I’m feeling fine. I braved the cellar again to get some ice – I’m not going to let him win and make me scared of my own shadow.’ Mary leaned on the bar and looked out at the busy street. Leonard was now playing a slow waltz.

William looked at Mary. ‘The crowds will be back in shortly and it’s a shame to waste an empty room and the slow waltz that Leonard seems to think we need, by the look of mischief on his face. Let’s not disappoint him; come out from behind that bar, take my hand and let us have this dance together, our way to celebrate.’ William smiled and looked at the surprise on Mary’s face.

‘Oh, no, I couldn’t, everyone would talk!’ Mary gasped.

‘Everyone? There’s nobody here apart from one or two hardened drinkers over in that corner and they’re too busy playing cards to notice us. The rest are outside. So, dance with me, Mary, just once …’ William held his hand out and waited for her to join him, hoping that she would take up his offer. The music, the joy of the day and just seeing her beautiful face made him feel like taking her in his arms and losing himself in the music.

‘I’ve got two left feet – and what will the girls say if they see us?’ Mary looked at the dashing William and knew she couldn’t resist his offer. She loved the waltz music that Leonard was playing and he knew it – she suspected that was why he was playing it.

‘Come on, take my hand.’ William grinned as Mary succumbed and made her way from behind the bar. ‘Leonard, play again from the start. Miss Reynolds and I are just going to celebrate my freedom.’

‘Right you are, sir. And I’ll play until you tell me to stop.’ Leonard grinned, watching as Mary took William’s hands and looked shyly at her partner. A handsomer couple he had yet to see as they stepped out in front of him, oblivious to the crowds cheering outside and the mutterings of the drinkers in the corner.

‘I thought you said you couldn’t dance? But here you are, looking like an angel on my arm.’ William smiled at Mary and held her waist tight.

‘I’m sure I don’t, but my foster-mother taught me; she believed in living life to the full and taught me all that she could so that I would be accepted in any society,’ Mary said quietly and dared to glance into William’s eyes. He gazed at her as if they were reading her very soul.

‘She taught you well. Now, have you thought about my offer of dinner at my home? I meant it, you know, and it wasn’t out of sympathy …’ He held her tightly as they danced around the outer edges of the room and he waited for her reply.

‘I don’t know, William. I’d be out of place; your home is no place for me,’ Mary whispered and held her breath as he swept her around the floor with grace and ease.

‘No, it’s just the place you belong. Please, Mary, please join me? My mother, I’m sure, will be as enthralled with you as I am,’ William whispered in her ear.

Mary’s cheeks flushed as he looked at her and she knew, in that instant, that he had the same feelings for her as she had for him. ‘Then yes, I’ll come – and I’ll try not to let you down.’

‘You will never let me down, Mary Reynolds. My father and I knew that the moment we saw you. He may be a stuffy old devil, but he’s a good judge of character, most of the time. Now, one more time around the floor and then I suppose we will have to behave before the hoi polloi catch us together. Not that it is any of their concern!’ William smiled and swept her round the floor as Leonard played and watched the love affair developing in front of him. Now that was a turn-up for the books – the hotel owner and the bar girl? It was history repeating itself for sure.

‘You made a lovely couple. We watched you through the window, you made better watching than the procession. He’s a good catch, is Mr Winfield. That Faith Robinson wanted her head seeing to,’ Molly said some time later in front of the other two girls and they all smiled as Mary looked uncomfortable, knowing that they had been watched.

‘It was only a dance while the bar was quiet. And it was Leonard to blame; he played my favourite waltz and Mr Winfield noticed my love of it.’ Mary was quick to blame poor Leonard, who was now playing something more boisterous for the celebrating crowds.

‘I think there was more to it than that!’ Beth giggled, then decided to spare her boss the agony of any more questions and get the conversation back to the celebrations as she reached to serve a customer with a pint of beer and a glass of whisky and water. ‘My, there were some people out there! I hope my little lad and my mother are enjoying themselves.’

‘I’m sure they will be; there are street sellers and allsorts going on.’ Mary turned and served a customer, thankful that the bar was beginning to get heaving because it would save her from being questioned further about her moment of heaven, waltzing in William’s arms. He’d won her heart completely if he had but known it.

It was after midnight before Mary climbed the stairs to her bed. Once in her room she closed the door behind her, quickly pushed her shoes off to relieve her aching feet and undressed. The relief of being out of the restricting corset and formal clothing and into her nightdress was heavenly as, after giving herself a wash, she sat at her dressing table to brush her long dark hair ready for bed.

She unpinned the buns on either side of her head and ran her fingers through her hair before looking at herself as she brushed her hair. It was just an ordinary, plain face that she saw staring back at her, nothing special in her eyes, not special enough to keep and capture the heart of William Winfield, surely? She brushed with vigour. It had been a day and a half; when she had got up that morning, she had not expected to be the one to put Roger Birbeck behind bars and to be asked to the home of William Winfield, let alone dance cheek to cheek with him. The celebrations for the royal baby had taken second place to what had happened to her in the day, a day she would never forget.

She looked long and hard at herself and sighed. What would she wear to visit the Winfields’ home? Would she be accepted by them or would eyebrows be raised? After all, she was a nobody, the lass that came from down by the canal, whose mother and foster mother were still probably remembered down there by the exploits that they’d got up to. She’d no right to expect anything of William, she thought, for she was as common as they came, although she had tried over the years to rise above it all. Anyway, time would tell. She would go along to the dinner and, if she was accepted, that would be fine but she was prepared also to accept that William’s parents would have something to say about his infatuation with her. After all, if they’d disapproved of Faith Robinson, then why would Mary Reynolds be good enough for them?