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Authors: Benita Brown

Tags: #Newcastle Saga

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BOOK: A Dream of her Own
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‘If you say so.’ Constance hugged her and then took her shoulders and pushed her gently away. Nella sat on her bed and then grasped her friend’s hands and drew her to sit down beside her.
 
‘Tell me again. Tell me about the day that you met John.’
 
‘You know that story as well as I do.’
 
‘But I like to hear it. It’s like ... it’s like a dream come true!’
 
‘All right, but I must be quick. It’s nearly time for me to go. It was a Sunday afternoon—’
 
‘In June, wasn’t it?’
 
‘Yes, June. It was my afternoon off and I had walked up across the West Road and towards the Town Moor—’
 
‘You’ve walked for miles about the city, haven’t you? Old Sowerby doesn’t care that we might have nowhere to gan on our days off!’
 
‘Hush, I thought you wanted to hear about my meeting with John?’
 
‘Sorry, gan on.’
 
‘Well, I heard the music coming from the park—’
 
‘A concert!’
 
‘I went in and saw all the seats arranged around the bandstand, and I would have loved to have sat and listened but I was afraid that the park keeper would demand a fee and I had no money with me ...
 
‘Well, I was standing listening to the music. It was so lively that I couldn’t help smiling and I didn’t realize that I had started humming the tune that they were playing. Then suddenly I became aware that two young gentlemen had come to stand beside me and they were singing the words, ever so quietly—’
 
‘I know the words, they’re from
Flora Dora!’
Nella exclaimed. Then she began to sing. ‘“Tell me, pretty maiden, are there any more at home like you?” ’ Her voice, emerging as it did from such a deformed little body, was surprisingly strong and sweet.
 
‘Hush, yes,
Flora Dora.
I turned to face them - I think I was blushing - and I saw John and his friend Matthew. They looked so handsome, John so fair, wearing a blazer and boater, and Matthew, tall and dark like—’
 
‘Like an actor!’
 
‘Yes, an actor, but a very prosperous one! Well, after a moment—I was embarrassed, you know - we all laughed. And that was the start of it, the start of our friendship.’
 
‘And the friendship led to true love!’
 
‘Stop it, Nella. You make it sound like a tale from a penny novelette.’ But Constance was smiling.
 
‘And now, you’re gannin’ to be married.’ Nella’s excitement suddenly died. ‘Hev you invited Robert to yer wedding?’
 
Constance let go of Nella’s hands and rose swiftly. The smile had gone from her face and her eyes were wide with shocked surprise. ‘Who?’
 
‘Divven’t you look at me like that! It’s a natural thing to want to know. Hev you invited yer brother?’
 
‘I have no brother!’
 
‘Constance, how can you?’ Nella stood up and stared at her accusingly. ‘I heard yer ma telling you that you should write to him.’
 
‘When?’
 
‘When she ... when she was dying. She said that when she went, Robert would be all the kin you had left.’
 
‘You shouldn’t have been listening.’
 
‘I didn’t mean to. I came into the room to see if I could do anything and you were crying. I stopped by the door ... you didn’t know I was there. Ee, Constance, I’m sorry.’
 
‘All this time you’ve never said anything, never asked me about it.’
 
‘I didn’t like to. You always keep things to yourself. I thought you would only tell me if you wanted to.’
 
‘You were right and I don’t want to.’
 
‘Divven’t then!’
 
Constance sighed. ‘Nella, don’t scowl at me like that. I’ve got to go now, before Dr Sowerby locks up.’ She took her coat and hat from the hook on the back of the door and began to put them on.
 
‘Here, before you button yer coat up ...’ Nella held out one of her hands. A twist of tissue paper lay on her palm. ‘This is yer wedding present. Gan on ... take it ... that’s right. Open it up then!’
 
Constance unwrapped the paper to find a necklace, a shiny little heart on a chain. Nella was holding her breath with anticipation.
 
‘You shouldn’t have spent so much!’
 
‘Divven’t worry, it’s not real gold - and it’s not a proper locket. I couldn’t afford to buy one that opened. Still I divven’t suppose you would have wanted a lock of
my
hair, or a picture of
my
ugly dial for a keepsake! But look at it - look closely.’
 
Constance held the heart up to the candlelight and saw that something was engraved on the front. Two letters were entwined there, C and N, the first letters of their names.
 
‘Do you like it?’
 
‘It’s lovely.’
 
‘I got it at that kiosk in the Grainger Market. I’d been saving up ever since you told me you were getting married. I couldn’t afford one of them velvet boxes, that’s why I want you to put it on now; it’ll be safer that way. And wear it every day, mind, especially tomorrow, yer wedding day, promise?’
 
‘I promise.’
 
‘If you always wear it you’ll always remember me.’
 
‘I won’t ever forget you, Nella.’ Constance fastened the chain around her neck and began to button up her coat. ‘And now I must be going.’
 
‘No, I’ve been thinking.’ Nella was animated. ‘You can’t gan out into the streets at this time of night. Even if John’s friend will take you in, Fenham is at least half an hour’s walk from here - there’ll be drunks coming back from the town and all kinds of riffraff!’
 
‘If they’re drunk they won’t take any notice of me.’
 
‘For goodness’ sake, lissen! You divven’t have to gan. Stay here until first thing. When I get up we’ll gan down together and I’ll make sure no one sees you leaving.’
 
‘But what if Mrs Sowerby comes up here to check if I’m gone?’
 
‘What! Mrs Sowerface come up to the servants’ quarters! Hev you ever known that to happen?’
 
‘Yes, I have. Remember when she thought poor Isabelle had stolen that brooch? She came up and supervised while her room was searched, and, when the brooch wasn’t found, all the other rooms were turned upside down, too. She didn’t go down again until precious little Miss Annabel came up and confessed that she had borrowed it to wear to a party.’
 
‘Yes, well, she was angry then and she wanted to find her brooch.’
 
‘Well, tonight she’s angry with me and she wants me out of the house.’
 
Constance stared helplessly at her friend’s stubborn expression until Nella turned away, her eyes wide and her lips pinched as she looked around the room. Suddenly, she darted over and began to strip the sheets and blankets from Constance’s bed.
 
‘What are you doing?’
 
‘I’ll fold the clothes up and put them at the bottom and, if Mrs Sowerby looks in, she’ll see straight away that yer bed is empty and that I’m fast asleep.’
 
‘But—’
 
‘Give that to me.’ Her task completed, Nella took the cardboard box from Constance’s hands. ‘I’ll put this under me bed, see? I’ll cover it with me shawl and it will do as yer pillow. You can have me top blanket. There’s plenty room for you to stretch out, and old Sowerby will nivver dream of looking there. You’ll be safe until morning.’
 
‘No, Nella, no.’ Constance took back her box and held on to it.
 
‘Why not?’
 
‘I wouldn’t put it past Mrs Sowerby to look under the bed.’
 
‘She won’t!’
 
‘She might. And, even if she doesn’t, somebody might see us in the morning. If things go wrong you would lose your position here.’
 
‘I divven’t care!’
 
‘But I do. Where else would you go?’
 
They stared at each other. Constance would have loved to go along with Nella’s plan and stay for the night but she could not put her friend in danger of losing her place. The Sowerbys had got her cheap because of her disability and she might not find another employer willing to take her on, especially if she didn’t have a reference. This job, hard as it was, at least provided adequate food and shelter.
 
Nella was staring at her and Constance lowered her eyes. She knew what the other girl wanted her to say but she couldn’t say it. Finally, it was Nella who spoke. ‘I know what you’re thinking and it doesn’t matter. Now cheer up and smile; after all, you’re getting married in the morning!’
 
‘One day, Nella, one day I really will be mistress of my own house and there’ll be a place for you there, I promise you. Now, come here and look out of the window.’
 
‘Why? What are you talking about?’
 
Constance put an arm round her friend’s skinny shoulders and was almost overwhelmed by a wave of compassion. There was hardly an ounce of flesh covering Nella’s twisted bones. ‘Hush,’ she whispered. ‘Look down there. What do you see?’
 
‘Not much; it’s too foggy.’
 
‘Exactly. The fog will make it safe. Nobody will notice me and, if I hear footsteps coming, I’ll hide in a doorway till they’ve gone by. I’ll get to the Elliots’ house in one piece, I promise you.’
 
 
Constance stepped out into the area yard and was engulfed in fog. She stood still for a moment to get her bearings, then she began to edge her way forward to the steps. Clutching the string ties of her box with one hand, she grasped the iron handrail with the other. Intent on putting one foot safely in front of the other, she did not look up until she had nearly reached the top. And then it was too late. Gerald was standing there, blocking the way into the street.
 
She was so startled that she lost her footing and began to fall. He lunged forward to grasp her arm and hold her steady. She looked up and the diffused glow of the streetlamp behind him illuminated her pale features. She had pinned up her hair but a few strands had escaped from under the brim of her hat and they curled damply, framing her heart-shaped face.
 
Even at this stage she expected him to step aside.
 
But then he spoke. ‘Ah, the little bride.’ There was something about his voice, throaty and unsteady, that made her jump back in dismay. Taken unawares, Gerald lost his grip on her arm and she went down one step.
 
‘No - don’t go. I’ve been waiting for you.’
 
Until that moment the fog had made what was happening seem unreal - dreamlike - but now Constance realized the full horror of her situation. She turned and stumbled down the steps, knowing she must get back into the house before Gerald’s father locked the door.
 
Gerald only laughed. ‘That’s right, it’s more private down there.’
 
‘No!’ Her scream turned into a terrified gasp of alarm as he swung out and knocked her the rest of the way down. She fell awkwardly, one leg twisting under her body and, before she could push herself up, he had plunged down after her.
 
She began to drag herself across the yard towards the door when she felt a forceful blow on her side. He had kicked her. She twisted round and faced him, fighting for breath, eyes widening with terror as he lowered himself on top of her.
 
He began to unbutton her coat and she tried to fight him off until he seized both her wrists in one powerful hand and forced them back on to the ground above her head. She felt him rive her blouse free from her skirt with his other hand and she moaned in distress as he began to finger her breasts.
 
Her reaction only excited him more. ‘That’s right - you like it, don’t you?’
 
‘No ... no ...’
 
‘Yes, you do. You don’t have to pretend. You’ve been waiting for this!’
 
He forced her legs apart with one of his own and Constance felt the weight of his body pressing her down on to the hard stone of the yard as he began to move rhythmically against her. Suddenly, his hand left her breasts and he lifted himself a little and pushed her skirt up above her waist. She felt him fumbling with his buttons and, having freed himself, he tore impatiently at her underclothes. She had barely got over the shock of feeling his hand on the soft flesh of her inner thighs, when he pushed his fingers inside her.
BOOK: A Dream of her Own
11.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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