A Daughter's Price

by Emma Hornby

  As her brain absorbed what had just happened she felt momentarily empowered. Then reality trickled home and she squeezed her eyes shut, sick with dread of the repercussions her actions were certain to produce.

  Ambrose would see his threats through. Soon, the Cannock brothers would form part of his vengeful trio.

  She was done for.

  CHAPTER 8

  ‘I THOUGHT I’D look around this afternoon for cheap dwellings up for rent.’

  Eating his breakfast, Amos paused. He returned the spoonful of porridge to his bowl. ‘What’s brought about this?’

  ‘Nowt, Father. It’s just … Well, we can’t stop on here for ever, can we?’

  ‘I don’t see why not. We’ve had no complaints from Ambrose so far.’

  That very name brought the acrid bite of bile creeping to her throat. She kept her gaze fixed firmly on her own food. ‘Even so. I reckon it’s for the best. I … Well, I miss it being just me and thee. You know?’

  His pale eyes softened. He nodded wistfully. ‘I still get a hankering for owd Bolton town and our little rooms above Mrs Hanover’s shop.’

  Tears stung. She, too, experienced a painful pang whenever she thought of all they had been forced to give up.

  ‘We’ve many a happy memory from them there years. Eh, lass?’

  Until I brought the Cannocks into our lives and ruined everything. Her father had become caught up in her mess, even their poor kindly landlady, her livelihood burned to the ground. Who else? How many more lives would she have a hand in ruining before all this was through?

  ‘You sure you’re all right, lass?’

  Meeting his eye, Laura nodded with a sigh. ‘Aye. Tired is all.’ That wasn’t altogether untrue. She’d remained locked in fear’s jaws for the remainder of the night following her uncle’s retreat, hadn’t slept another wink and doubted she would again. How could she ever feel safe in that room now? And still, she’d uttered nothing to a soul. Nothing.

  ‘Lass? Does summat ail thee?’

  This, as though he’d read her tumultuous mind, threw her for a moment. Her eyebrows drew together in dread. ‘Father?’

  ‘You seem agitated somehow. Like the weight of the world’s on yon shoulders. You sure all went well yesterday with that yard lad?’

  Laura had already given her father a run-down of her and Nathan’s outing. She repeated what she had earlier: ‘It were a gradely time we had.’

  ‘Then what? Don’t tha know by now tha can come to me with owt?’ His gruff tone softened. ‘Ain’t my listening ear allus open to thee?’

  ‘I …’ Tell him, her inner voice begged. Make all this stop! He’ll surely believe you – has to. She opened and closed her mouth again. Though the shame wasn’t hers to carry, thoughts of putting into words what his brother had done made her cheeks flame. ‘It’s … I …’

  ‘Morning, Mr Amos, Mrs Cannock,’ Bridget trilled, entering the room, face all smiles, unaware how significant her timing was – Laura was both grateful and regretful for the interruption. ‘Are ye for attending church today?’

  Before father and daughter had a chance to respond, heavy footfalls from above, heralding that Ambrose had risen, reached them. Laura got in quickly: ‘I’ll accompany thee, aye. Father?’

  ‘Aye, all right.’

  ‘Grand so! I’ll just fetch my shawl and we’ll be away.’

  ‘I’m gradely, Father, honest,’ Laura told him when the maid had gone. ‘I just, well, I worry still at times about that Cannock pair back home is all.’ This, after all, wasn’t an outright lie – more of an understatement, if anything. The other issue, much nearer to home, that was causing her such misery, she once again buried down deep inside herself. She’d come close to revealing all a moment ago. She was glad she hadn’t. No good could come of it, not for her father.

  ‘Tha must try to forget all what’s passed,’ Amos told her. ‘It’s finished with, lass.’

  Laura nodded, then busied herself with drinking the rest of her tea as a diversion when her uncle entered the room. The last thing she desired, now more than ever after last night, was to look at his hateful face.

  ‘Morning.’

  ‘Morning, brother. We’re just away to church with Bridget.’

  Ambrose scowled. ‘I hope Figg has prepared my breakfast afore she goes anywhere.’

  ‘You all right?’ asked Amos, and Laura held her breath when her uncle shot a dark stare in her direction. Then, as though remembering himself, he smiled and sighed.

  ‘Gnawing headache is all, lad. Puts a dampener on the mood.’

  Amos nodded understandingly – that the older man had drunk more than was good for him the previous day was no secret.

  ‘I’ll see thee later, lad,’ Ambrose said as they made to leave. ‘I’m for returning to my bed awhile, I think. See thee, lass,’ he added before she had time to slip out behind her father, and she was forced to turn so not to appear impolite to the others. The look of pure murder waiting for her in his eyes lodged the farewell in her throat. Black fear gripped her stomach. Lowering her gaze, she inclined her head and escaped as fast as she could get away with.

  Laura was still fretting about that glare, about when and how her uncle would exact his revenge, when they reached their destination: an attractive red-brick and sandstone building with rounded windows in Mulberry Street. Entering through the carved arched doorway with its slim pillars and angelic-hosts-sculptured tympanum, however, her racing thoughts stilled as she scanned the congregation.

  She spotted Nathan straight away. To her surprise, a small smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She tried to catch his eye as she headed to a pew, but he was deep in conversation with an elderly woman seated beside him.

  Throughout the service, she tried to keep her gaze on the high altar and ornate marble statues of Our Lady and the saints, but she couldn’t help casting the young man furtive looks across the room. She hadn’t expected to see him here, hadn’t realised he was Catholic. And who was the woman in his company? She was surely too old to be his mother.

  Again, afterwards, when the worshippers were spilling out of the church, she trawled the sea of faces for a glimpse of him, hoping to grab his attention, but he and the woman had been swallowed up in the crowd; hiding her disappointment, she followed her father and Bridget into the weak sunshine.

  ‘My foxglove potion came good, then, I see?’

  Laura turned to see the herb woman from the market winking up at her. Her own face broke into a warm smile. ‘Oh, hello! It did, and I’ve been meaning to come and see thee, to thank thee, like.’ She touched Amos’s arm. ‘Father, this is Widow Jessop, who makes the medicine I got for thee.’

  ‘How’s tha fettling, lad?’ the woman asked, pumping his hand in a firm shake.

  ‘Gradely, aye.’ Though gratitude sounded in his voice, pride lifted his chin slightly. ‘Mind, there weren’t nowt altogether wrong, nay. The lass, she frets. Strong as an ox, me.’

  ‘’Course you are.’

  Giving her a crooked smile, Laura drew her aside. ‘Bridget, the maid there, cooks him all the right things, as you instructed.’ She’d been forced to tell the Irishwoman he was unwell following his fall from bed, had to, to keep her from informing Ambrose, and had sworn from her the promise of confidentiality. Thankfully, Bridget had cooperated and had even done her best to alter the daily menu as inconspicuously as she could to save her employer enquiring over Amos’s changed diet. ‘He ain’t had a turn since, norra one. Eeh, I don’t know how to thank thee, that I don’t,’ she told her with feeling.

  ‘Just keep an eye to him, lass. He’s a proud bugger if ever I met one.’

  ‘Stubborn, to boot,’ Laura agreed with a chuckle.

  ‘Well, as I’ve said afore, you know where I am, should you need me. I’ll be on my way now, lass, let that young buck making cow eyes at thee have your attention.’

  ‘Young buck?’ Laura glanced around with a frown, a rush of pleasure going through her to see Nathan waving
from the wide church steps. She bade the woman goodbye and made her way across to him.

  ‘Hello, Laura.’

  ‘Hello. I thought I’d missed thee. I spotted you inside, but you were in conversation,’ she explained, looking with a smile to the woman still in his company. Bent almost double with age, with flowing white hair, her tiny frame was enveloped in a tattered green shawl.

  ‘This is my neighbour, Mrs Price,’ Nathan introduced them. ‘She’s blind,’ he mouthed when she didn’t clutch the hand that Laura held out to her.

  Her face softened in compassion. ‘I’m very pleased to meet thee, Mrs Price.’

  ‘And me thee, lass.’ Looking beyond Laura, she flashed a toothless smile. ‘Eeh, the lad here’s a good ’un accompanying me the day, and him not even Catholic.’

  ‘Tenants across the way from us who normally visit church with Mrs Price moved away last week,’ he explained to Laura. ‘So I offered to do the honours.’

  ‘Aye.’ The woman hooked her arm more securely through his. ‘Kindness itself, you are.’

  Laura agreed. Her impression of him strengthened further still. Then his words sank in and she gasped. Without thinking, she grasped his hand in excitement: ‘You said your neighbours have moved?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘The house is still empty?’

  ‘That’s right. Why?’

  ‘Me and Father are looking for a place of our own. Where is it youse dwell?’

  He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Lass, I don’t think …’

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit … I don’t reckon it’d be much to your liking—’

  ‘It’s a stinking hole is what he’s trying to say, lass,’ the old woman intervened with a wry laugh.

  Nathan coloured then shrugged. ‘That’s the top and bottom of it.’

  Did he think her so judgemental, so shallow? He believed she’d pour scorn on his position? She and her father hardly sprang from grand beginnings – until very recently, they had called a few cramped rooms home all her life. Her fingers tightened around his hand, which she realised she still held; embarrassed, she released it, saying, ‘We’re not gentry, lad.’ Then without thinking: ‘Anyroad, owt’s better than where we are now.’

  His brows rose in surprise. ‘If that big place of the boss man’s ain’t up to your standards, then by gum, lass … Ebenezer Court would turn your hair white, let me tell thee!’

  ‘Nay, it’s not that, it’s just … Well, me and Father can’t put on Uncle Ambrose for ever. Besides, we miss it being just the two of us. You know?’

  He was smiling again, the uncomfortableness gone, much to her relief. ‘If you’re sure …?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I’ll have a word with the rent collector when next he calls, ask him to speak with the landlord on your behalf. There shouldn’t be no problem. He ain’t bothered none who dwells in his warrens so long as his pockets don’t suffer. The last thing he wants is a house that can be earning standing empty.’

  ‘Oh ta, Nathan. Thanks.’ She couldn’t keep the joy from her voice. God above, to be free of his den. The relief. ‘Me and Father will have a walk round when we can, see the place for ourselfs. What were it called again?’

  ‘Ebenezer Court. You might have need to ask folk for directions; it’s tucked away between two other courts, and all three sit squashed between Mill Street and Back Factory Street. It ain’t easy to find if you don’t know the area like the back of your hand.’

  ‘We’ll manage, I’m sure.’

  ‘Fancy, though, eh?’ He grinned and winked. ‘Us, neighbours.’

  The truth in his observation – and the underlying meaning – brought for the first time a flutter of panic to her chest. In spite of her growing interest in him, would settling down so close by seal her fate for her? There would be no distance between them, no line; their lives would be even more intertwined. Would he simply assume it inevitable that they would come together? Did she want her future deciding for her? She didn’t want to tie herself to another, not again, had told herself often enough. Did she?

  ‘Laura?’

  ‘What?’ She shook herself back to the present, forced a smile. ‘Aye. Sorry. I have to go, Father’s waiting.’ She bade him and Mrs Price goodbye and returned to Amos and Bridget, who were standing chatting nearby.

  ‘The lad’s well?’ her father asked as they passed through Albert Square for home, and there was clear acceptance in his tone.

  Ahead stood the impressive Albert Memorial, the large monument recently erected to commemorate the late Prince Consort, and the half-constructed new Town Hall – fixing her gaze on these to avoid looking at him, Laura nodded. Amos wouldn’t fail to notice the excitement – and uncertainty – she knew shone from her eyes and, naturally, he’d want to know the reason for it. ‘Aye, he is.’

  It was wisest that she held off mentioning the empty property in Bridget’s presence, lest it got back to her uncle. He mustn’t learn they were considering vacating his house just yet, not until they had somewhere definite. Given his unpredictability, who knew what his reaction would be? He’d likely attempt to scupper their plans; through sheer spite for her, if nothing else.

  ‘A Catholic, to boot, eh?’ Amos added. ‘Your mam would’ve approved, lass.’

  ‘Father, please. Me and Nathan—’

  ‘Aye, I know, you’re just friends,’ he cut in, and there was a twinkle in his eye.

  ‘That’s right. We are.’ That stir of misgiving grew. Even her father had begun to assume … Would Nathan, too? Should she simply forget all about the vacant house in Ebenezer Court, search elsewhere, for all their sakes? ‘And he ain’t Catholic, was just accompanying an elderly neighbour,’ she hastened to point out, half hoping this would quell Amos’s design of them coming together.

  ‘Aye? Well. Now there’s a selfless deed, if ever I heard one.’

  It was evident the statement had had the opposite effect and that the lad had gone up a notch further in Amos’s estimation – Laura had to fight the urge to throw her hands in the air in frustration.

  Though aware she was being unfair – Nathan was an all-round decent fellow – she couldn’t help feeling peeved by the whole situation. She didn’t want her future mapping out for her by others. Even she didn’t know what she wanted, was finding it impossible to straighten out in her mind the conflicting thoughts. There was too much going on at present to focus rationally on any one thing. She was exhausted with it all.

  That night, after a tense few hours of doggedly avoiding Ambrose around the house, she slipped across the landing to her father’s room to further discuss them moving out. She’d decided she would inform him of Ebenezer Court after all and see what he thought about it. The ever-worsening atmosphere here had made her mind up for her – she had to get out.

  Amos patted the edge of the bed and she sat down. He listened to her news without interruption. When she’d finished, he rubbed his chin.

  ‘A court?’

  ‘Aye.’ She nodded understandingly. Consisting of several enclosed, poor-quality dwellings huddled around a small yard, courts were notoriously cramped and dank places to live. ‘But a home is what you make it, Father. We’ll have it looking presentable in no time. Let’s at least look at it, shall we, afore making up our minds?’

  He shrugged in agreement. ‘What our Ambrose will make of it, mind, I don’t know. We’ve perfectly decent lodgings here.’

  Laura kept her quiet. As far as she was concerned, her uncle could think what the hell he liked.

  A little later, when their conversation had turned to reminiscences of the past, she noticed Amos’s eyelids growing heavy. He dozed off with a small nostalgic smile on his lips and, reluctantly, she made to head back to her own room. Then visions of the previous early-hours antics stopped her in her tracks and she backed away from the door. Ambrose Todd wouldn’t get to play out his depravity a second night.

  She returned to the bed and, as softly a
s she was able, so not to disturb him, curled into a ball beside her father. His safe presence and steady breath on her cheek lulled her into a heavy sleep within seconds.

  Nathan hadn’t been wrong – Ebenezer Court took them an age to locate.

  On the spur of the moment, they had taken a detour here after finishing the afternoon delivery round; fingers crossed, Ambrose wouldn’t arrive back at the coal yard before them and notice their absence.

  Even with directions from passers-by en route, the deeper into the city they went, the denser the maze of alleyways, lanes and courts became, sloping off the thoroughfares every few seconds; one wrong turning and they were lost again in another tangled pocket.

  ‘It’ll fair be a miracle if we ever make it back to Kenneth,’ Amos grumbled as they made down yet another dark entry. The passages hereabouts were so narrow that they had been forced to leave him and the cart by the roadside on the main street. Hopefully, the nosebag her father had attached to him would keep him occupied long enough that he didn’t grow restless and decide to wander off.

  ‘It must be around here somewhere— Ah!’ Laura exclaimed suddenly when a faded sign above an arched entranceway caught her eye; she could just make out the name. ‘This is it.’

  She knew a mild sense of awkwardness being on Nathan’s home turf, but this wasn’t to last – as they stepped through the opening, whatever else she’d felt quickly melted into despair.

  A thin strip of open drain, overflowing and clogged with refuse, ran down the centre of the yard; puddles, stagnant and evil-smelling, dotted the cobblestones. Doing their best to avoid them, they halted and looked about through the gloom.

  To their left and right, resembling rows of decaying teeth, slouched six or so miserable, grime-blackened houses crumbling with neglect. The few steps leading to the broken doors were worn and cracked, several long-since-smashed windows were boarded up with mouldering card, and rags and old newspaper were stuffed into the rotten frames to keep out the draughts.