Without Sin (18 page)

‘There, you see?’ Clara said at once, gesturing towards the shop door through which the potential customer had just disappeared. ‘That woman didn’t want to be served by a
chit of a girl. Really, Percy, can’t you see further than the end of your nose? Ladies want to be served by an older woman. Someone who is discreet and
respectable
. The kind of woman
you need to employ is a genteel kind of woman who has become impoverished through no fault of her own.’

‘Surely Miss Kirkland fits that description?’

‘I said, “impoverished”, Percy. Not a pauper from the workhouse!’ She glared at him, but when he made no reply, she gave an exasperated ‘Huh!’ and turned
towards the door. She pulled it open and looked back to launch one last parting shot. ‘You haven’t heard the last of this, Percy Rodwell. If you won’t listen to me, then perhaps
you’ll listen to my brother.’ Her face twisted into a sneer as she added, ‘After all, he does own these premises.’

With that, she swept out, slamming the door so hard behind her that the bell shuddered on its spring for several moments.

Meg was appalled at what she had heard. In her view the woman was hysterical – mad. Even if she disapproved passionately of her fiancé’s employment of Meg, she herself had
shown a surprising lack of decorum. But Meg knew she must be careful what she said to Percy. Clara was still his fiancée. She must not forget that.

Now that the shop was empty, she turned tearful eyes towards him. ‘Oh, Mr Rodwell, I hadn’t realized how my family’s troubles might reflect upon you.’ She pulled in a
deep breath and took a risk. ‘I should leave at once. I’d hate to lose you custom because of – because of—’ Now she allowed the tears to flow freely down her face. She
pulled out her handkerchief and covered her face, sobbing uncontrollably into it.

She felt Percy move to her side and his tentative touch on her shoulder. ‘There, there, my dear. Please don’t cry. I wouldn’t dream of you leaving. You’re doing very
nicely here. Very nicely. Don’t worry any more about – about Miss Finch. I will talk to her. Yes – yes, I will talk to her again. She has my best interests at heart. I know that,
but – well – perhaps . . .’ His voice trailed away but then he added more firmly, ‘But there must be no more talk of you leaving.’

‘Oh, thank you, Mr Rodwell. You are good. Thank you.’

He patted her shoulder again and murmured, ‘There, there.’

Behind her handkerchief, Meg smiled.

Her heart in her mouth, Meg knocked on the door of Isaac Pendleton’s office. Trying to keep her anger, disgust even, in check, she adopted a docile image. When his voice
boomed out telling her to enter, she opened the door and smiled as she stepped into the room.

‘Ah, Meg, my dear girl.’ Isaac rose from behind his desk and came towards her, his arms outstretched.

Meg shuddered but managed to hide her revulsion. ‘I wondered, sir,’ she began meekly, ‘if I might see my mother, if you please?’

‘Of
course
you can, my dear. You don’t need to ask. My door is always open to you.’ He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against the bulge of his stomach.
‘After all, we are almost family now, aren’t we? I expect you’ve heard that your mother has made me the happiest of men by agreeing to become my – er – um –
friend
?’

Meg had to clamp her mouth tightly shut to prevent the vitriolic words that were tumbling around in her mind from spilling out. ‘Where – is she?’ she managed to stammer.

‘In my room upstairs. Run along and see her, my dear. I’ll be along shortly.’

Meg managed a weak smile as she pulled herself away from him and left the room.

The stairs leading to the first floor were just outside the master’s room. As Meg put her foot on the first step, she heard a movement above her and glanced up to see Louisa Daley coming
down towards her. Meg stood aside and waited until the schoolmistress passed by. At the foot of the stairs, Louisa paused. She smiled uncertainly. ‘Meg,’ she began hesitantly. There was
a pleading tone in her voice but Meg only glared back at her, her expression frosty and unforgiving. ‘Meg, please – can’t we be friends again? I am so sorry. What more can I
say?’

‘There’s nothing you can say that can undo what happened.’

‘But I’ve apologized about the watch. And as for Bobbie – well – Philip – Dr Collins said there was nothing he could’ve done even if he’d been called in
earlier.’

‘There might have been,’ Meg insisted. ‘You shouldn’t have tried to look after him yourself. You should’ve told matron sooner. At least she really cares about the
children.’

‘How can you say that?
I
care, Meg. Really I do.’

The girl was stony-faced and unforgiving.

‘Won’t you believe me, Meg? I truly am so sorry. I know you don’t want to come back to the school room – that you’ve found a nice post in the town. Do you like it?
Are they kind to you?’

‘What do you care if they’re kind to me or not? We’re just paupers to you. Not even worth your precious doctor’s attention. And I’m just a common thief,
aren’t I?’

‘Oh, Meg, please—’

‘Let me pass.’

Louisa remained where she was, blocking Meg’s path to the stairs. ‘You’re going to see your mother?’

‘That’s none of your business.’

Louisa touched Meg’s arm, still trying to make amends. ‘Things will be better for her now. For you both, now that you’re under Mr Pendleton’s protection. You
needn’t think of yourselves as being in the workhouse any more.’

Meg’s face contorted. ‘You don’t think I condone what she’s doing, do you?’

‘But you’ll be set for life now. Isaac – Mr Pendleton – looks after his – his ladies. He—’

Meg thrust her face close to Louisa’s. ‘Then why didn’t you climb into his bed?’

Louisa gasped and drew back. Meg pushed her aside. ‘I’ve nothing more to say to you.’ Without looking back she lifted her skirts and ran up the stairs.

‘How could you, Mam? How could you do it? After all you’ve taught me.’

‘Oh, Meggie, please don’t judge me.’ Sarah came towards her daughter, beseeching her for understanding. But Meg refused to reach out to her mother. She couldn’t bear to
touch her. Even when Sarah put her arms about her and laid her face against Meg’s shoulder, she did not move, but held herself rigid, refusing to return her mother’s embrace.

‘I feel so alone,’ Sarah whispered. ‘I need someone to take care of me. Of us.’

‘You’ve got me. I’ll take care of you. I’ve got a good job in town—’ Mentally, Meg crossed her fingers, hoping that this was still the truth now Miss Finch
had made clear her disapproval. Maybe, with the hold her family had over her fiancé, in more ways than one, Clara might yet persuade Percy to dismiss Meg. The accusation was out of her mouth
before she could stop herself. ‘But I might not have now because of what you’ve done.’

Astonished, Sarah pulled back and stared at Meg. ‘What – whatever do you mean?’

Unable to hold back her frustration, Meg blurted out, ‘Mr Rodwell’s fiancée is Miss Finch and she’s friendly with Miss Pendleton and she knows that you – that
you’ve become what she calls Mr Pendleton’s latest “paramour”. And all them down there—’ Momentarily, in her anger, her care for her grammar deserted her as she
flung out her hand in the vague direction of where the women’s day room was on the floor below. ‘They all know. You should’ve seen them last night when I came home. And as for
Waters, she nearly attacked me.’ She forbore to tell her mother that if it hadn’t been for Jake, it would have been she who attacked Waters, not the other way about. ‘One way or
another the whole town will know soon,’ she went on, sparing her mother nothing. ‘And if what Miss Finch says is true, then the ladies will stop frequenting Mr Rodwell’s
shop.’ She paused and then drove the knife home. ‘And then they might persuade their menfolk to stop too and then where will he be? Not needing an assistant, that’s
where.’

‘But Isaac’s kind and generous and he says he’ll look after you too. He’ll look after us both. He wants you to go back into the school room with Miss Daley.’ Sarah
gripped Meg’s arm, pleading desperately. ‘Oh, Meg, please, do what he asks. He’ll set us up for life. He’s got contacts. He can arrange for you to become a teacher. Just
think about that, Meg.’

The door opened quietly behind them, but they were both so caught up in their conversation that neither of them noticed who was standing there.

‘No, I won’t think about it. I don’t need to. I’m not letting that man rule our lives. Oh, Mam—’ Now it was Meg who took hold of her mother’s shoulders
and gave her a gentle shake as if trying to instil some sense into the distraught woman, who, in her view, was making a tragic mistake. ‘I do understand how you must feel, truly. After
everything that’s happened, but please don’t do this. Don’t become Isaac Pendleton’s mistress. He’ll cast you off eventually, just like he did Waters. Then where will
you be?’

Sarah shook her head. ‘He’s not like that. He – he looks after – even if . . .’ Her voiced trailed away.

‘Look, I was going to tell you last night. There’s some rooms above Mr Rodwell’s shop that I’m sure aren’t used. I’ll ask him if we can live there. Just you
and me. I’m sure he’ll say “yes”.’

Slowly, Sarah shook her head and whispered, ‘Meg, I’m sorry, but I need—’

Meg pulled away from her mother. Her green eyes filled with disgust. ‘Then you’re no better than a – than a
whore
. If you stay here with him, I want nothing more to do
with you. Do you hear me?’ Though her voice broke on the final words, she cried, ‘If you stay here, I don’t want to see you ever again.’

The figure in the doorway moved into the room. This time it was not Meg’s ally, Jake, but Isaac Pendleton, who had heard every word of Meg’s final outburst. ‘I think, young
lady, you’ve said quite enough.’

Sarah gasped in horror, realizing what he must have overheard, but Isaac moved forward to stand beside her and put his arm around her. ‘Your mother’s quite right. I intended to look
after you both. But not now. Oh, I’ll take care of your mother, but not you. From this moment on, my girl, you’re on your own.’

Sarah clutched at the front of Isaac’s coat. ‘Oh, please, Isaac, don’t cast her out into the streets.’

For a moment, he said nothing and Meg could see his internal struggle on his face. ‘Very well, since it is you who ask, my dear, she can stay in the workhouse for the time being.’ He
turned back to Meg, his face purple with rage, his eyes bulging. ‘But you will have none of the special privileges you
might
have enjoyed.’

‘I don’t want them,’ Meg spat back. With one last glance at her mother, she whirled around and ran from the room. As she did so, all she heard was her mother’s pleading,
‘Oh, Meggie, please don’t go. Not like this . . .’

‘Oh, Mr Rodwell, what am I to do? I’m so ashamed of my mother.’

Meg had told Percy everything that had happened the previous evening. Now she covered her face with her hands, but she peeped through her fingers to watch his reaction. Percy was agitated. He
removed his spectacles, polished them and replaced them. He cleared his throat. ‘Well, my dear. I can see how you’re placed. It is unfortunate. Most unfortunate.’

Meg sobbed.

‘Now, now, don’t take on so. I didn’t mean to imply that it was your fault. But, of course, whilst you are still at the – still
there
. . .’

Now was the moment. It had come sooner than she’d dared to hope. Meg took a deep breath. ‘Sir, I know it’s a dreadful imposition and if you say no then I will quite understand.
As you say, whilst I am still living at the workhouse . . .’ She gulped back a sob, her mouth trembling. ‘And now I’ve stood up to the master, he’s – he’s going
to make life so difficult for me – I wondered . . .’ She allowed the words to come tumbling out, erratic and desperate. ‘I just wondered – the rooms above the shop. Could I
perhaps live in one of them? I’d only need one. And I could keep an eye on the shop all the time, have the stove lit every morning for you and do the cleaning at night after we’ve
closed. Oh, Mr Rodwell, sir, please – please would you consider it?’

Percy stared at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. ‘But – but they’re not suitable. I mean, they’re in a dreadful state. They’re not habitable.’

Meg hung her head and was at once full of pretended contrition. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. You haven’t even said you’re keeping me on. I haven’t completed my trial
period. I was taking too much for granted. I’m sorry.’

Percy was still staring at her as if he was suddenly seeing something that he hadn’t noticed before. Nervously, he cleared his throat. ‘No – no, it’s not that. Miss
Kirkland – Meg – I am quite satisfied with your work. Very satisfied, in fact.’ He gripped the tape measure hanging around his neck. ‘It’s just . . .’ He stopped
and stared at her again.

In a small, pathetic voice, Meg said, ‘It’s just that Miss Finch wouldn’t agree.’

Percy shook his head emphatically. ‘No, it’s not that either. Miss Finch has nothing to do with the running of my business.’ He paused and then added, almost grimly, ‘Not
yet, anyway.’

‘But it would make it very awkward for you, I see that. I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you. I wouldn’t have done if I hadn’t been so desperate.’
Tears filled her eyes again. She made a great play of dabbing her face, squaring her shoulders and smiling bravely through her tears. ‘I’ll think of something. Now, shall I make us a
cup of tea and tidy the workroom? You must have worked very late last night, Mr Rodwell. I see the suit for Mr Pickering is almost finished.’

Percy nodded absently. ‘He wants a final fitting today,’ he murmured, ‘And the suit finished as soon as possible. I think he plans to wear it for the next race
meeting.’

‘Oh yes,’ Meg murmured. Unbidden, the memory of her last visit to the racecourse and the picture of Alice clinging to her father’s arm pushed its way into her mind. Banishing
it swiftly, she widened her smile and was gratified to see Percy blinking in its radiance. ‘Then you’ll be needing that cup of tea and, if you want to carry on working on it, I can hold
the fort in the shop.’ Seeing his mouth open to protest, she added at once, ‘I can always fetch you if a gentleman requires you particularly.’