by Emma Hornby
Eyes wide with horror, Nathan shook his head. ‘How? Why?’
‘The night Adam died, we argued. He’d been gone from home two days – up to God alone knew what with them brothers of his – and when he returned I beseeched him once again to change his ways. He grew mad with rage when I wouldn’t shut up. He ran at me with his fist raised and I bolted for the bedroom to escape the blows. Only he caught my skirts and dragged me back. I … I just … I kicked out. Panicked. Didn’t want him to hurt me. The thump as he tumbled backwards and hit the stairs was like a gunshot – I’ve never heard owt so loud in my life. He wasn’t moving. I tried to waken him but he wouldn’t get up.’
Nathan’s voice was a whisper: ‘What did you do?’
‘Ran for the doctor. He confirmed what I knew: Adam was dead. Police and his family rushed round; it was chaos. I never mentioned we’d rowed, were petrified they would blame me. All assumed he’d just fell in a drunken stupor. Well, all except his brothers. Them two were still out drinking somewhere and couldn’t be tracked down. They made their appearance the next morning. Banging at my door fit to burst it from its hinges and screaming all sorts of threats unless I answered their questions, they were.’
‘They thought you’d killed him?’
‘But I didn’t, lad, didn’t intend … I knew I faced the same fate if I stayed. I scarpered through the back way and made for Father’s in the centre of town. All too soon, the Cannock brothers discovered where Father dwelled. They burned the place to the ground. I’ve been running ever since.’
Releasing air slowly, Nathan dragged a hand through his dark hair. ‘Jesus, Laura. You must have been that frickened … How have you coped, lass?’
‘Father,’ she answered simply, and hot tears flooded her eyes. ‘Though he’d have had every reason to and I’d not have blamed him for it, he refused to give up on me. He gave up his dear home and the precious memories it contained and brought me here, to safety; no one knew of my uncle’s existence. At least we hoped it would be safe. Now, Father’s dead and it’s my fault. Adam’s brothers discovered our whereabouts. They must have been scouring the area and spotted him making his way home. The devils that they are, they ambushed him, an old man on his own and twice their age. He must have been so scared.’ She was sobbing hard. ‘His heart just couldn’t take it. He died protecting me to the last.’
‘My love …’ Nathan’s arms went around her tightly. ‘They’ll get what’s coming to them, have no fear—’
‘Nay, lad!’ Jerking back to look at him, she grasped the front of his jacket in her fists and shook him hard in terror. ‘You mustn’t, for they’ll kill you as surely as they did Father. These ain’t men, Nathan, they’re demons straight from hell! Please. Promise me you’ll not go seeking them out. Promise me.’
‘But—’
‘Promise. Else I’ll leave this minute and you’ll never see me again. I mean it. I’ll have to, to keep you and yours safe.’
‘So they gets away with it? And what if they find thee, what then?’
‘I … don’t know. I just … I want vengeance, of course I bloody do, but … Oh, I just don’t know! What I am certain of is this: I’ll not see thee hurt. I can’t have that on my conscience as well, lad. Manchester’s vast – we can but pray they’ll grow bored of searching and leave me in peace. But Nathan, if tha chooses to end what we have right here and now, I’ll understand, honest I will.’
‘Laura …’
She’d had to give him the choice. She held her breath, dreading his response. Once more, her selfish side rose to the fore and her mind screamed out to him: Please don’t give up on me. I need you, can’t do this alone. Then he spoke, and she flopped in blessed relief:
‘I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: I ain’t going anywhere.’
‘Thank you,’ she choked, throwing herself against him and hugging him tightly. ‘Thank you.’
‘There’s summat I can’t fathom,’ he said, brows furrowing in suspicion when they drew apart. ‘How have them swines discovered where you are? You said yourself they hadn’t knowledge of Ambrose Todd.’
Her mouth opened and closed but refused to bear life to the truth. She lowered her head. She couldn’t utter it. The horror, the shame of it … How could she speak of her uncle’s actions, that he’d blabbed in Bolton through sheer hatred of her, and the reasons for it? The war it would create, the disgust it would bring forth in all who discovered it … She just hadn’t the strength for the repercussions of that as well, not this day.
Besides, that felt like one battle she must fight – and win – alone. He’d brought the brothers here. He’d killed her father as surely as if he’d snuffed him out with his own two hands.
Ambrose would answer to her. She’d be the one to make him pay – some day, somehow.
On this, she was hell-bent and nothing would dissuade her now.
CHAPTER 12
‘COLLEEN! IT’S GRAND to see ye, so it is—’
‘Is my uncle home?’
The maid’s delighted smile slipped. ‘Sure, it’s mighty early – he’s still in his bed.’ She held the door wide. ‘Will ye come in?’
‘Ta, Bridget.’
Clearly sensing that something wasn’t right, she didn’t correct Laura’s usage of her given name. ‘Everything well? You seem—’
‘Not really, nay.’ Feeling tears well at the Irishwoman’s concern, she swallowed them back desperately. She couldn’t – wouldn’t – crumble. Not today. Not here. ‘I must speak with my uncle urgently. Will you waken him, please?’
‘Right so.’
As she waited in the hall Laura took the time to steady her breathing. Maintaining composure and self-control were vital; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her anguish, not ever again. Her weakness would be her undoing, and she was damned if she’d let that happen.
‘To what do I owe this pleasure, then?’
‘Father’s dead.’
Midway down the stairs, Ambrose juddered to a halt with a gasp. Mouth falling slack, he shook his head. ‘You’re a liar. A barefaced, stinking little—!’
‘Orphan, Uncle Ambrose, is the word you’re looking for.’
‘Nay …’
‘And you’re to blame. Ain’t yer?’
He stumbled down a stair or two. Then his face contorted into a look of such murderous rage Laura took an involuntary step back. With a roar, he thundered down the remaining stairs and, seizing her round the waist, bundled her into the kitchen. She broke free, panting with her own anger and not a little fear, and scurried to put the table between them and thus gain her some seconds of breathing space until she figured out what to do.
But Ambrose made the choice for her. He sent the door crashing shut. Then he slid his back down it and crumpled in a heap on the flagged floor. He buried his face in his hands. ‘I don’t … What’s …? How?’ he gabbled in broken snatches.
She hadn’t expected this. His vulnerability momentarily threw her; she’d never seen a chink of weakness in his hardened armour before.
‘The lad’s really dead?’
‘Yesterday. It was his heart. And your little jaunt to Bolton is the cause of it. Adam’s brothers have been on t’ warpath since Adam’s death – they wrongly believe I killed him,’ she revealed, figuring she might as well spill the history now. What was there left to lose, after all? ‘Your careless talk must have got back to them and they came to this city in search of me. Only they got to Father first. Their threats were enough to bring about an attack of the heart.
‘Why did you do it?’ she continued on a tortured rasp. ‘Malice? Revenge? And for what? Because I refused your filthy advances? I deserve this – Father deserved to die – because a disgusting beast wants to mess around, in the worst possible way, with his own niece? D’you hear that? D’you hear how it sounds? Well, do you?’
‘The lad, I never meant … Mine’s but healthy urges, that’s all. A fella has needs—!’
‘Rancid, that’s what you
are,’ she cut in, throwing the words at him like blades. ‘I thanked Christ that Father hadn’t had to know about his brother, knew it would have finished him off for sure. Well. You’ve put paid to that, ain’t yer? You killed him anyroad. You killed him!’
‘Let me make it up to thee.’ Ambrose had risen, was making his way towards her. ‘Let me—’
‘Get back! Don’t you dare come anywhere near me!’
‘Lass …’
‘I want nowt from thee. Nowt at all!’
‘Our Amos would want me to see right by thee. I’m all the kin tha has left. Now then. You’ll leave that dirty court this very day and move back in here. I insist.’
Laura’s laugh was hollow with loss, but her eyes burned with a hatred she could never have contained. ‘You’re serious … I’d sooner die myself.’
‘You need me, and you know it.’
‘I need a depraved madman like thee? Huh. I’d rather starve in the gutter than depend on you for support, financial or otherwise.’ She lifted her chin. ‘As it happens, you’re wrong about summat else, an’ all: I do have other kin of my own. Least I will have shortly.’ She nodded at his frown. ‘Your employee, Nathan, has asked me to marry him and I said yes. So you see, Uncle, I neither desire nor require a single thing from you – not now, not ever again.’
‘You’ll not wed that bombastic young buck! I’ll … I’ll …’
‘You’ll do what? You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do – I’m of age, remember, don’t require a guardian or the permission of one, neither. Besides, it’s what Father wanted.’
‘And what of thee? I notice there were no talk of love in that there speech?’
His sly smile and the flush it brought to her cheeks had her shaking with frustration. Damn him! How she loathed this man. Why, in the name of God, had she and her father ever come here? If only she could turn back the clock. Somehow, she’d see him pay for all he’d done, if it was the last thing she did.
‘I’m right, then, aye? You’re marrying that pup for security, nowt more. But you see, you’ve not the need to do it, for you have it here, with me, in abundance—’
‘Get out of my way.’
Laura pushed past him and stalked to the door. Before she could wrench it open and make hasty her exit, however, Ambrose threw a final gambit that stopped her in her tracks. She turned slowly.
‘Aye, that’s right.’ Puffing out his chest, her uncle repeated, ‘You marry that lad and he’s finished at the yard. I’ll see to it that he never finds work with another coal merchant this side of the Irwell whilst I’m at it. You’ll be penniless, done for.’
He meant it. She had no doubts on that. If he could as easily dismiss his own brother as he had, he’d have no qualms with a man he’d always shown disregard for. Nathan enjoyed his job; hadn’t he spoken so himself only last week? What on earth would he do without it? How could this man do this? Why was he intent on ruining her and all she held dear?
‘Just try me,’ Ambrose added, taking her silence as a sign she was wavering.
But no, never. As sorry as she was for Nathan, she could never return to this house, to him. She shook her head. ‘You’re good at that, eh? Cutting off your nose to spite your face. Chucking out members of your workforce on a whim. That’s all you’ve got, the only power you can wield. You really are pathetic. So, do as you like. Your evil can’t buy me back. I’d happily live on them mean streets out there with him than dwell here with you.’
‘I’m warning thee—’
‘Nay, Uncle. You don’t get to do that no more. I’m going now, and I don’t ever want to see your face again. And another thing: don’t show up to Father’s funeral, for you ain’t welcome.’
‘We’ll see about that! He was my brother!’
‘Aye, when it suited thee. Just you steer clear.’
‘Upstart bitch! I hope them brothers-in-law of yourn find thee! D’you hear? I hope they tear your head from your neck!’
‘Goodbye, Uncle Ambrose.’
‘You’ll be back, mark my words. You’ll be back!’
Without another word, Laura stalked from the kitchen and left the house. She’d gone a few yards when a voice called her name. She glanced back to see Bridget motioning for her to wait. The maid closed the door to behind her and hurried into the street to meet her. She was pale, her eyes red-rimmed, and her lips were all aquiver. It didn’t take a genius to work out that she’d picked up from outside in the hall what had just passed between her master and his niece.
‘Colleen …’
‘Aye.’ It was all Laura could lay her tongue to. What else was there to say?
‘’Tis mortal sorry I am. About your father. About … everything.’
‘Why do you stay, Bridget?’ She flicked her gaze to the house. ‘That man in there is wicked beyond words. He cares naught for no one but hisself. No one,’ she reiterated, and nodded when the Irishwoman blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘You ain’t the only one who’s overheard … things,’ she admitted quietly.
‘May Mary, Mother of God, forgive me.’ Bridget dipped her head. ‘I just, I live in hope that one day …’ She lifted her shoulders in a miserable shrug.
Love really was blind. Deaf, dumb and daft at times, too, aye. Didn’t she know all about that? Hadn’t she herself fallen victim to its curse with Adam Cannock? She pressed the older woman’s hand. ‘You know where to find me. Take care, Bridget.’
‘And yourself, colleen.’
Arriving home, Laura passed Nathan in the court leaving for work. She swallowed hard. Would he even have a position to go to? Figuring it was pointless either of them worrying unnecessarily until the worst had happened, she assured him all had gone well with her uncle and saw him on his way with a smile. Then, sighing, she made her way to Mrs Price’s humble abode.
The old woman had been kindness itself. She’d sat up with Laura until the early hours last night, simply offering a listening ear and a comforting hand, as Laura cried and railed at the unfairness of life, talked of her childhood and reminisced of years and people gone by. In fact, everyone at Ebenezer Court had been genuinely lovely and understanding of her loss.
Outsiders could say what they liked about who they deemed the lowly, the savage, the undesirables – slum folk, in other words – but they themselves knew different. Bad apples grew amongst them, of course they did, but you found that in any walk of life. Truth was, you’d be hard pressed to find a more loyal and supportive class of souls in the whole of the world.
Times like these highlighted this more than ever and made Laura proud to be one of their number. They banded together in the face of difficulties like never before, ensuring no one felt alone. That she and her father were relative strangers made no difference. She was humbled and more grateful than she could put into words.
‘How’s tha fettling this morning, lass?’ asked Joyce, who was sat enjoying a cup of tea with the old woman by the fire.
Removing her shawl and draping it over the back of a chair, Laura shrugged. ‘I don’t really know. Numb, I suppose.’
‘Aye, well, it’s to be expected. It’s a fair fearsome shock you’ve suffered and it’ll take time to sink in. You have us lot, whether tha likes it or not, in t’ meantime.’ Joyce winked softly. ‘You remember that.’
‘Ta, thanks,’ she murmured past the lump in her throat. ‘I don’t know where I’d be without youse all right now.’
‘Eeh, poor love.’ Mrs Price felt around the table until her hand brushed the teapot. From years of practice, she expertly filled a cup without spilling a drop and passed it across. ‘Come on, sup up. It’s a reet tough morning you’ve had, you having to break such tidings to your uncle.’
‘How did he take it, love?’ added Joyce.
Laura lifted then dropped her shoulders again. ‘As well as you can expect,’ she said eventually, her attention on her tea. ‘Mrs Price, I was wondering … would you mind very much if I stayed on here with thee? Just till the wedding, I mean? M
y uncle did offer me my owd room back at his but I … Well. I like it better here. Please?’
‘That tha even had to wonder on it! ’Course tha can.’
They sipped their brews in companionable silence for a few minutes until Joyce asked, ‘Have you given thought as to what you’ll do with your house in t’ meantime, lass? Heaven only knows that landlord of ours won’t stand for it if the rent ain’t in his grubby paw on time. What with you not in work and your father, God rest his soul, gone … You’ll be hard pressed to keep the place on.’
‘I shall just have to find employment. I’d hate to lose the house and, besides, me and Nathan will need somewhere of our own to live once we’re wed.’
They nodded at one another in agreement, then each glanced to the door as a knock sounded. Joyce went to answer it and a comely young woman with dark hair and deep brown eyes followed her back inside.
‘I don’t think youse have made acquaintance proper as yet, have yer? Laura, love, this is Lizzie, Bee O’Brien’s eldest – or Busy Lizzie as she’s known, for she never sits still, nay. Allus on t’ go, she is.’ She chuckled. ‘Lizzie, meet Laura, our Nathan’s intended.’
‘Laura: eeh, that’s a bonny name.’ Lizzie’s smile lit the room. ‘Pleased to know thee, I’m sure.’
Laura liked her instantly. ‘Aye, you too.’
‘I am sorry about your father.’
‘Ta, thanks.’
‘’Ere, but many congratulations on your betrothal. Nathan’s a good ’un. They both are.’ Lizzie’s gaze swivelled to Joyce then, and of her, she enquired, ‘Daniel’s well?’
Seeing the girl’s eyes sparkle at Joyce’s nod, Laura knew a queer sense of unease. That Lizzie carried a liking for the elder brother was evident. Did he reciprocate her feelings? And what on earth did it matter to her?
