Without Sin (13 page)

‘Thank you, sir.’

She moved to the far end of the long shop, aware that Mr Finch was still watching her. ‘I know you, don’t I? I’ve seen you before somewhere.’

Meg thought it politic to drop a small curtsy. ‘You interviewed me and my family, sir, a week or two back. We – I’m from the workhouse.’

‘Ah, yes. I remember you now. Your mother fainted, did she not?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And is she recovered now?’

‘She is getting better, thank you, sir. But she – she lost the baby.’

‘Ah.’ The large man said again, but without a word of sympathy. He lost interest in her and turned back to choosing the material for his new suit. Meg waited, trying to curb her
natural impatience. She watched how Mr Rodwell flicked through a swatch of fabric, giving his customer details of the make-up of each piece. ‘Now this one is a fine worsted. And this one a
coarser weave but very hard-wearing and this one . . .’ And so on until Meg’s head spun. There’d be a lot to learn, she thought, and wondered if she wouldn’t be better to
seek employment on another farm. At least she understood that work and there might be a cottage for her family . . .

At last Mr Finch made up his mind. ‘That one, Percy. That’s the one.’

‘A wise choice, if I may say so.’ The tailor inclined his head. It was almost a bow – but not quite. ‘I’ll order the cloth. Now, would you like me to take your
measurements?’

‘Not today, Percy. I’m in a hurry.’

Who’d have thought it
, Meg thought, amused,
considering the time he’s taken to choose? I must have been standing here for ten minutes or more
.

‘I’d like to see the material again,’ Theobald said. ‘You know, in a full piece, just to make sure I like it. You can take my measurements then. Good day to you,
Percy.’

‘Good day, Theobald.’

Theobald opened the shop door with a flourish and then turned back. ‘I’ll see you later. I believe you’re dining with us tonight.’

‘That is so.’

Theobald’s smile broadened. ‘Clara is looking forward to it.’

Percy Rodwell gave a thin smile and dipped his head once more.

When the door had closed behind his customer, the tailor turned towards Meg. For a few moments he scrutinized her, taking in her appearance from head to toe. When his gaze finally met her green
eyes, he seemed a little startled and blinked rapidly.

‘You – you wanted to see me?’

Meg moved forward. ‘Yes, sir. Miss Pendleton sent me. She said she’s a friend of yours. Or rather,’ she added hastily, ‘a friend of Miss Finch’s.’

‘I hadn’t realized they were friendly. I rather thought—’ He paused and then asked, ‘Why did Miss Pendleton send you to see me?’

‘She thought you might have a job for me.’

Percy frowned. ‘A job? For you?’

‘She thought you were going to start stocking ladies’ – er – garments and that perhaps your customers might prefer to be served by a woman.’

Percy allowed himself a small amused smile. Meg had the feeling it was because she had referred to herself as a ‘woman’.

‘That is correct,’ he said in his soft voice. He cleared his throat and now he avoided her direct gaze. ‘But I had it in mind to employ someone a little more – er –
mature than yourself.’

Meg made sure that disappointment showed keenly on her face. ‘I see,’ she whispered and hung her head. Then she gave a huge sigh and glanced around the shop. ‘What a shame!
I’d’ve loved to work here. To have learnt all about fabrics and such. It must be so interesting.’ She turned her brilliant eyes upon him and sighed again. ‘But, of course,
if I don’t suit—’

‘Well, now –’ Percy was flustered – ‘I didn’t say that exactly.’ He cleared his throat nervously. ‘We – er – could discuss it. Yes,
yes, we can discuss it.’

For the next half an hour, Percy Rodwell questioned Meg closely about herself, her family and her background. When he heard that her only experience of work had been as a dairymaid, doubt
crossed his face once more.

Meg leapt in quickly. ‘I realize you might prefer someone with experience in this kind of work, but I am honest and reliable and quick to learn and –’ she ran her tongue around
her lips and suggested craftily – ‘and you could train me in
your
ways, couldn’t you?’

He glanced at her. ‘Well, there is that, I suppose.’ He pondered for what seemed to the anxious girl an interminable time. At last he said, ‘Very well, then. I’ll speak
to Miss Pendleton about you and if her comments are satisfactory, I’ll take you. But it will be for a trial period, mind.’

Meg’s eyes shone. ‘I understand. And thank you, sir. I won’t let you down, I promise.’

‘We shall see, we shall see,’ Percy said. ‘Present yourself here at eight thirty sharp next Monday morning – one week from today – and we shall see.’

As she left the shop, Meg glanced back at the building. Two dummies, fully clothed in men’s suits, stood in one of the windows. The other window displayed shirts, ties and socks. She
glanced upwards and saw that the smaller windows on the first floor were very dirty. It was obvious that the upper floor was used only as a storeroom or perhaps a workroom. She wondered if there
were enough rooms to make some into living quarters.

Meg skipped all the way back to the workhouse. She couldn’t wait to tell her mam and Bobbie. The only thing worrying her was whether Miss Pendleton would speak well of her. But she had not
upset the matron. Waters would have been a different matter and maybe even Mr Pendleton would not give her a glowing reference exactly, but she was sure that Miss Pendleton would speak well of
her.

Albert was waiting for her when she rang the bell at the back gate to the workhouse. ‘How did yer get on then?’

‘Mr Rodwell’s going to give me a trial. I’m to start next Monday.’

‘He’s a decent sort.’

‘Mr Rodwell? Do you know him, Albert?’

The old man sniffed. ‘I know most folks round here. Used to be an oddjob man in these parts, till I couldn’t work any more.’

‘And you . . . you . . .’ Meg hesitated. She couldn’t imagine that Albert had ever bought a suit at the tailor’s. Albert finished her sentence for her. ‘I worked
for him now and again. Not in the shop, o’ course. At his house.’

Meg kept her face the picture of innocence. ‘Oh, so he doesn’t live above the shop, then?’

‘Used to do. Years ago.’ This was the most talkative that Albert Conroy had been in years. But this pretty young girl had shown him such respect, kindness even. ‘When his dad
had the shop before ’im the whole family lived upstairs. But Percy moved into a little cottage near the church a few years back.’ He sniffed. ‘When he got hisself engaged to Miss
Clara Finch.’

Meg smiled back at him and leant closer to share a secret. ‘Mr Finch was in the shop when I got there. I had to wait for him to leave and as he went he said –’ she mimicked Mr
Finch’s cultured tones – ‘ “I believe you’re dining with us tonight,” and when Mr Rodwell nodded, Mr Finch said, “Clara is looking forward to it.”
’

Albert’s smile widened, stretching his face more than it been for years. ‘Been hengaged for six years or so, they have.’

‘Six years!’

Albert chuckled, a wheezing sound. ‘Aye. Not one to rush into anything, isn’t Percy Rodwell.’

‘But six years! I wouldn’t wait six years,’ Meg declared. ‘Not for any man.’

Albert eyed her. ‘Shouldn’t think you’d ’ave to, mi duck. Have you seen Miss Finch?’

Meg shook her head and Albert chuckled again. ‘Well, wait till you do and then you’ll see why Percy’s in no hurry to tie the knot.’

Laughing, Meg skipped on her way feeling more light-hearted than she had done since the day they had entered the workhouse. She went into the wash house and took off her own clothes. As she
dressed once more in the workhouse uniform, she smiled to herself. She wouldn’t have to dress in these awful garments for much longer. Soon she would be handling the fine fabrics in Mr
Rodwell’s shop.

She focused her thoughts on the future and refused to think about her father and Alice. Now she had new hope. Her mother was getting better. Sarah would be sad for a little while about the loss
of her baby but soon . . .

Waters was standing in the doorway of the bath room. ‘You’d better come, Meg. Miss Daley is asking to see you.’

‘Well, I don’t want to see her,’ Meg said abruptly.

‘I think you should, Meg.’

The girl looked at her in surprise. Waters’s tone was kindlier and she had called her Meg. Her attitude was so out of character that Meg was alarmed.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ But the woman had turned away and all she said was, ‘Miss Daley’s in the children’s dormitory. You’d better
hurry.’

Cold fear clutched at Meg’s heart.

Meg ran up the stairs and burst into the dormitory. The children were getting ready for bed, the bigger ones helping the little ones. Meg glanced around wildly, but she could
not see her brother.

‘Where’s Bobbie? And where’s Miss Daley?’

She knew some of the children by name now from her brief time spent in the school room. One of the older girls came towards her. ‘Miss Daley’s in her room.’ She pointed to the
far end of the dormitory to the room where Meg had looked after the sick child.

‘Is she with Betsy?’ Meg asked.

The girl shook her head. ‘No. Betsy’s better. Look, she’s in her bed over there.’

Now Meg could see the thin, pale little girl sitting up in bed. Betsy held out her arms towards Meg and tears welled in her eyes. ‘Meg,’ she called, her voice trembling.

Sighing inwardly, Meg crossed the room to stand by her bed.

‘I’m so sorry I caused trouble. I didn’t mean to steal the watch. I – I just wanted to hear its tick. It – it reminded me of me dad.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Meg said. She had neither the time nor the patience to listen to Betsy. There was only one thing on her mind. ‘Do you know where Bobbie
is?’

‘In there. Miss Daley’s looking after him. He’s poorly.’

Meg’s heart pounded anxiously. She had been right to be fearful. She ran down the long room to the closed door, ignoring Betsy’s pleading, ‘Meg, say you forgive me . .
.’

Meg didn’t even knock, but rushed straight into the schoolmistress’s bedroom. The room was stifling and Meg’s gaze went at once to the bed where Bobbie lay. His face was
flushed and though his eyes were closed he was writhing and moaning. His nose was very sore and looked as if it had been bleeding. Miss Daley was bending over him, sponging his face. She glanced
round at Meg but all she said when she saw who it was, ‘You shouldn’t be here. It might be infectious. He’s quite sick.’

‘What is it? What’s the matter?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Has matron seen him? Have you called the doctor?’

‘Meg,’ Louisa said gently, ‘they don’t call the doctor for every minor childish ailment.’

‘That’s not a minor illness,’ Meg said heatedly. ‘Just look at him!’

‘Well, yes. His pulse is weak, I have to admit, but then children can be terribly sick one minute and fine the next.’

Meg’s mouth was a grim line as she whispered, ‘If anything happens to our Bobbie, I’ll know who to blame, won’t I?’

‘Meg—’ Louisa began, but the girl whirled around and was gone from the room. She had to find her mother.

As she neared the women’s day room, Meg could hear her mother’s hysterical crying. When she rushed into the room, she saw Sarah in the middle of the room wringing
her hands and wailing. The other women were clustered around her, but standing beside her was Isaac Pendleton. He was holding her hand and patting it.

‘Now, now, my dear. Don’t fret. Matron will take care of little Bobbie. He’ll be good hands.’

Catching sight of her daughter, Sarah wailed afresh. ‘Meg, oh, Meg. What are we to do? Bobbie’s ill.’

‘I know. I’ve seen him.’

Isaac Pendleton looked round, a flash of annoyance in his eyes. ‘You had no right to go anywhere near the child. If it’s something infectious, we could have an epidemic on our
hands.’

‘Then why isn’t he in the infirmary with the matron?’ Meg flashed back.

Surprise flickered briefly across Isaac’s face. Before he could open his mouth to refute Meg’s statement, she said, ‘He’s in Miss Daley’s room at the end of the
dormitory and I don’t think the matron has even seen him yet.’

‘But I thought—’ Isaac began. He looked back at Sarah. ‘I thought it was matron who told you.’

Sarah shook her head. ‘No, no, it was Waters.’

‘Waters! She had no right . . .’ He broke off, gave Sarah’s hand a final pat and added, ‘Leave this to me.’ He took hold of Meg’s arm roughly and propelled
her across the room. ‘And you, young lady, had better come with me.’

‘Why won’t they let me see him?’ Sarah wailed. ‘I’m his mother.’

Meg glanced back over her shoulder to see that some of the other women in the day room were clustering round her mother and one was putting her arms about Sarah’s shoulders. At least, she
thought, her mother was being comforted.

‘Where – where are you taking me?’ Meg was a little afraid to be alone with the master. He was a strange mixture. One moment he was charming and benevolent, the next a
frightening, vengeful figure.

‘To see if what you say is true. I’ve been hearing about you, miss. How you throw folks’ kindness in their faces.’

Meg gasped. ‘Me? I’d never do that.’

He stopped suddenly and pulled her round to face him. ‘Then what’s this I hear about you refusing to do the nice little job I found you in the school room? Where’s your
gratitude for that, eh? I had thought it was that Miss Daley found you unsuitable, but she tells me that it is you who have the gall to refuse to work with her.’

‘I—’

‘Don’t bother trying to drum up some fancy tale.’

‘But you don’t understand—’

‘I understand only too well, my girl. Ungrateful little chit that you are.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Meg was stung to retort boldly. ‘I’m not ungrateful.’

Suddenly his attitude changed and he stood gazing down at her. ‘By heck,’ he murmured, ‘but you’re a bonny wench and a fiery one. I’d like to have the taming of
you. If only you were older I’d let you show me just how grateful you can be—’ He frowned and seemed to shake himself. ‘Come along,’ he said more briskly, but now the
anger had gone from his voice. ‘Let’s find out what’s to do with the little chap and see if we can put your poor mam’s mind at rest. She’s a bonny little woman, your
mam.’