Cherry Tree Lane (11 page)

‘Ham and vegetable soup.’

‘Good, good.’ Emily gestured towards the basket. ‘There must be a lot of mending to do.’

‘No one’s done any for months, as far as I can see. I like sewing, even mending. It’s such a peaceful activity. I’ve made all my own clothes since I was ten. My mother taught me and I taught my sisters. My stepfather wasn’t generous with money, you see, except to himself.’

Emily sat down opposite her. ‘What are you intending to do once you’re better?’

Mattie let the darning drop into her lap and leant her head back. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps you could advise me?’

‘You’re safe here for a while. Jacob won’t throw you out.’

‘But he has to feed me, and he’s not got a lot of money or he’d have hired a housekeeper, surely? I only have about a pound in my purse. I can’t even pay for my own keep for more than a week or two.’

Emily hesitated. It was proving harder to make her suggestion tactfully than she’d expected. In the end she just said it. ‘There is one thing you could do which would solve the problem of your future.’

‘Oh? What?’

‘Jacob needs a wife. You could marry him.’

Mattie stared at her open-mouthed. Emily waited patiently and when the younger woman didn’t say anything, added, ‘It’d be a good thing for both of you.’

‘Did he suggest you ask me?’

‘No. I told him it’d come better from me.’ She saw disappointment in the younger woman’s face and guessed the suggestion would have been more welcome if it had come from Jacob. That was a good sign, surely?

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Say you’ll think about it. I’m being rather selfish, I suppose, but he didn’t need much persuading, and I can see from the way he looks at you that he finds you attractive.’

She watched Mattie stare down at the sock in her lap.

‘Look, I think your marriage would solve all our problems. You need to make a new life for yourself. I need a man to act as my rent agent. Jacob would do that very capably, but he can’t look after himself, his children and the house as well as caring for my interests. And also, he must dress respectably, which he doesn’t at the moment. He’s always behind with the household tasks, as you can see, however hard he tries to look after his children and home. He manages to keep the family’s clothes clean but they’re nearly always crumpled and Sarah’s grown a lot. She needs new ones. So … as I have to look after myself, I’ve only been able to offer him the job on condition he finds himself a wife.’

Another silence followed and she waited patiently. Nothing would be gained by rushing this.

Mattie looked down at her clenched hands, trying to hide her bitter disappointment. Jacob Kemble didn’t want to marry her particularly, he only wanted ‘a wife’. Any decent woman would do. ‘And he … accepted your condition?’

‘He didn’t like it, but he wants the job so he’s thinking about it. He’s a shy man when it comes to women. He grew up here, married a girl he’d known all his life, and rumour has it that she asked him, even then. Now he has to take a more risky step – well, he does if he wants the job. So I gave him a nudge.’

Mattie looked at Miss Newington, trying not to show how upset she was. ‘I can understand why you think he should marry, but why are you suggesting me? Surely there are other single women round here, people he’d feel more comfortable with? You know nothing about me.’

‘There are no suitable women in the village. And there’s one more thing.’

Mattie opened her mouth to protest, but Emily held up one hand, so she waited.

‘Hear me out, my dear. There’s one more thing, the most important reason of all. I should have said it first. I think you two will suit very well because I can see you’re attracted to one another in the way a man and wife should be.’

Mattie couldn’t look her in the face for a moment or two, because she was right. Jacob was a lovely man and she did like him.

Miss Newington’s voice was low and persuasive. ‘Why not take the chance?’

‘I don’t want anyone to be forced into marrying me!’

‘If there were more time, if you lived nearby, I don’t think I’d have had to give him a nudge. Jacob’s not indifferent to you.’

‘One of the reasons I ran away was that my stepfather was trying to force me into marriage with a friend of his. The friend had paid him money. He’d
sold
me!’

‘I don’t know what this other fellow was like—’

Mattie couldn’t help shuddering at the thought of Stan Telfor. ‘He was big, like my stepfather. No, not quite as bad, but I didn’t like him to touch me. I think I’d have had a miserable life with him.’

‘If you don’t want Jacob to touch you, there’s nothing more to be said. I’ll help you find somewhere to live and we’ll look elsewhere for a wife for him.’

Mattie blushed scarlet. ‘I don’t … It’s not like that with Jacob. He’s different, kind, caring.’

‘Yes. You’ve only to watch him with his children to see what a gentle, loving man he is. Do you find him attractive in that way?’

For the life of her, Mattie couldn’t deny that she did. ‘I … yes, I do like Jacob, what I’ve seen of him.’

‘He’s a good man. You’re a decent young woman—’

‘Not so young now. I’ll be thirty next month.’

‘That seems quite young still to me. I’m seventy and thanks to my father, I never had the slightest chance of getting married and having children. I regret that bitterly now, very bitterly indeed.’

Mattie could hear the pain in the older woman’s voice and that, more than anything, made her take the suggestion more seriously. She’d been feeling upset for years about not getting married, not having children of her own. It had hurt her to see women she’d been at school with pushing prams, walking along holding a child’s hand, smiling fondly at a husband.

‘Wouldn’t a marriage which brings respect and liking from your husband – at the very least – be better than nothing at your age? You’re not too old to have children. You get on well with Luke and Sarah …’

Mattie could only shake her head blindly. She was a fool, a romantic fool, worse than the heroines of her library books, but she wanted more than mere respect from a husband.

‘Think about it, my dear,’ Miss Newington said. ‘Don’t make a hasty decision. Take everything into account.’

‘Very well. I will. But I’m not promising anything.’

That evening Stan came into the pub looking particularly pleased with himself. Bart, who was nursing a pint and wondering what to do about his washing, because he’d run out of clean shirts and the damned laundry charged a fortune for washing and ironing them, scowled at his friend.

‘Want another pint?’ Stan offered.

Bart nodded.

While they were waiting for the potboy to bring the beers, Stan leant forward. ‘I found out which way she went.’

‘Who?’

‘Your Mattie.’

‘She isn’t my Mattie any more. I’ve washed my hands of her.’

‘Have it your way. I shan’t need to tell you what I found out, then.’ He took a long, slow pull of beer.

Bart tried not to ask, but in the end curiosity got the better of him. ‘Where did she go, then?’

Stan wiped his mouth and murmured his appreciation of a good, well-kept beer.

‘Where?’ Bart repeated.

‘Out of town. My cousin remembered a woman who could have been Mattie, remembers her very clearly. He said she got on his tram looking like death warmed up, white as a sheet and shivering, sneezing and blowing her nose. Her hair was soaking wet so it looked dark, except at the front, where it was sticky. He said she looked a right old mess.’

‘Serve the bitch right.’

‘She got off at the terminus and headed off along the road to Wootton Bassett. She wouldn’t have got far walking in that condition, now would she? So I reckon she’s quite close still. Why didn’t she take the train with the others, that’s what I want to know?’

Bart shrugged. ‘She stole the housekeeping, but she wouldn’t have had enough money to get far by train. I don’t believe in women handling money, not more than they need anyway, or they waste it, so I kept my eye on every penny.’

‘Some women are careful enough. My mother, for one.’

‘Well, in my house, I’m in charge.’

‘I’m going to have a look out Bassett way on Sunday. I’ve got a friend who’s lending me his horse and trap. Do you want to come with me?’

‘I suppose I might as well. Mattie’ll know where her sisters are, that’s all I care about.’

‘I’ve got some news about them, too.’

Bart watched Stan raise his pint glass to his lips and take another leisurely swig to torment him.

‘Your Nell’s been seen meeting Cliff Greenhill, one of the upholsterers. His family lives up in Old Swindon. It’d have been a good match. Don’t know why you didn’t encourage it.’

‘Because I want her to look after me, not another man!’ Anger surged through Bart, beating at his temples, making his heart thump in his chest. ‘How the hell did she meet him?’

‘At church, I was told.’

‘I’ll kill the sod.’

‘You’ll have to find him first. He’s disappeared too.’

‘Ah! He’ll be the one who’s run off with her. But I reckon his family will know where he’s gone.’

‘Mebbe. Not my business.’

‘No, but it’s mine.’

‘Don’t do anything rash. They might not know anything.’

‘If they don’t know now, they’re bound to find out sooner or later where he is.’ Bart quickly changed his mind about the way he was going to approach this. He intended to punch the hell out of Cliff when he found him, but Stan was right. The family might not know where the son was now, but if he threatened to hurt him, they’d never tell him. Bart must tread carefully and play the upset father, then they might be more inclined to share information with him once they did find out. ‘And why’s Renie gone with them? She isn’t old enough to be interested in lads.’

‘They could’ve took her with ’em. Might have been frightened you’d hurt her.’

‘I’d have given her a leathering for not telling me, that’s for sure.’

‘There you are, then. She wasn’t with Mattie, so she must be with them.’ Stan drained the last of his beer and tapped his glass on the table as a hint.

Grudgingly, Bart bought him another pint.

‘Don’t you want another drink yourself?’ Stan asked.

‘This’ll do me for a bit. Without the girls’ wages, I have to be a bit more careful, damn them. I need to find someone to do my washing and that costs money. So from now on, we’d better each buy our own drinks. I don’t know how you can afford to drink so much every night with only your wage to rely on.’

Stan tapped the side of his nose. ‘Got ways of earning a bit extra.’

‘I wish you’d show me, then.’

‘Can’t. Only enough for one in it.’

Which left Bart thinking hard as he trudged home to a dark house. What was Stan onto that he’d missed? If he’d ever needed extra money, it was now. As for Nell and Renie, they couldn’t marry anyone without his permission.

It wasn’t till he was in bed that he suddenly remembered that Nell had turned twenty-one not long ago. Mattie had wasted money on a fancy iced cake and sewed something for her. So Nell didn’t need his permission to get wed. He smiled in the darkness. But she did need her birth certificate to prove her age and he’d got that hidden away.

Only he couldn’t settle till he’d checked his box of papers. He got up, lit the gaslight and took the box of family documents down from the top of the wardrobe. It was still locked and hadn’t been broken into. He nearly put it back once he was sure it hadn’t been taken, but just to be sure, he took out his key chain and opened the box.

He cursed when he saw that none of the girls’ birth certificates was there. How had they known where to find them? And how had they got hold of the key? Mattie always cleaned this room and she wasn’t tall enough to see on top of the wardrobe. She always had to get the stepladders to clean up there when she did the spring cleaning and he hid the box inside the wardrobe then.

His fingers itched to take off his belt and give all three of them a proper lesson in obedience. As he’d once done to Mattie.

Stan was a fool to hanker after her. She was nothing but trouble, that one. But Bart was sorry he’d not now get the money Stan had been going to pay for marrying her, very sorry. She owed him for that as well as everything else. And he’d make her sorry for what she’d done.

Miss Newington left the house but didn’t go across to speak to Jacob, who was working at the upper end of the field. She saw him staring at her and when she didn’t make any sign of how she’d got on, he walked across to the wall, waiting for her to come up the lane.

‘Well? Did you speak to Mattie?’ he asked before she’d even come to a halt.

‘Yes. She’s thinking about it.’

‘She is?’

‘Yes, of course. Don’t sound so surprised. You’re a good-looking man.’ She paused, amused to see a tide of red wash across his face. ‘Of course, if you find her repulsive, we can still look for someone else. It’s not too late.’

‘I don’t find her repulsive, but I keep telling you, I’ve not thought of remarrying, especially someone I don’t know. Marriage is for life, not just something you slip into with anyone convenient.’ But he’d known Alice and still been surprised at what it was like living with her, how limited her view of the world was.

‘Well, think about it carefully, as she’s doing. But remember … if she leaves here, you may never see her again, never even know if she’s safe or not.’

Emily walked on without another word and he didn’t call her back, but she’d seen from his expression that her parting shot had hit the mark. He’d looked shocked, definitely shocked.

Where the lane curved slightly to the right, she risked a quick glance back and saw that he was still standing there, hadn’t moved an inch. She smiled. She felt pretty sure now that they’d get married.

She went and asked old Horace to harness the horse and trap, then drove into Wootton Bassett, leaving them at the livery stables as usual and taking the train from there into Swindon.

Frank Longley looked up as his clerk came to the door of his room.