A Daughter's Journe

by Anna Jacobs

  6

  W hen she and her two escorts arrived at Rathley’s house, Jo left them outside in the street and went into the house alone. She’d decided it was best to be open about leaving because it would be rude to go without thanking her hostess. Mrs Rathley had done nothing wrong, after all.

  She pushed open the front door without knocking and the older maid appeared at the back of the hall, looking surprised to see her.

  ‘Just been out to stretch my legs,’ she said cheerfully.

  She went into the breakfast parlour and found the family there, about to start their meal. Her stepmother frowned and pointed to a chair, but something made Jo stay where she was, perhaps because she felt intimidated by the way Mr Rathley was scowling at her. Already she had a feeling that this wasn’t going to go well and was regretting making the effort to be polite.

  ‘Where on earth have you been?’ Edna demanded. ‘We were worried when the maid told us you’d gone out. In a strange town! All on your own! Did you get lost?’

  ‘No, of course not. I bumped into a lady I was introduced to yesterday. She knows a cousin of mine on my father’s side and is going to introduce me to her this afternoon. She’s invited me to stay with her, so I’ll thank you for your hospitality, Mr and Mrs Rathley, and move to her house.’

  ‘You’re planning to stay with a stranger we don’t know anything about?’ Edna exclaimed. ‘What on earth has got into you?’

  ‘I may stay with this lady. It depends on this possible cousin. I may stay with her instead. This lady is very respectable, though.’

  ‘You can’t possibly go off like that! How many times must I tell you that an unmarried young lady has to be particularly careful of how she behaves. How can you possibly know that this woman is respectable when you’ve only spoken to her once? Who is she and who introduced you?’

  Jo didn’t even try to answer that. ‘I think I’ll be safe with my own relatives.’

  ‘Your father didn’t tell me you still had relatives here, though he did say his family came from the area originally.’

  ‘He told me about them when he knew he was dying and made me promise to look up my English family while I was here.’

  Instead of answering, Edna looked pleadingly at her cousin. ‘Clarrie, tell her this isn’t right.’

  ‘A young lady can get into trouble going off with strangers,’ Rathley said at once. ‘I’m afraid I must forbid it.’

  Jo looked at him in shock. ‘You can’t forbid it. You have no authority over me.’

  ‘I can do as I think best in my own house.’ He began to push his chair back.

  She’d experienced it before, this sense that something bad was going to happen and she knew better than to ignore it. Not waiting for him to get up, she ran to the front door. But though she got it open, it took a few moments and he caught up with her before she could leave. He grabbed her arm, trying to yank her back into the hall.

  ‘Help me, Peter!’ She kicked Rathley and slapped his face as hard as she could with her free hand. But it wasn’t enough to get away from him.

  Fortunately, Peter had run across the garden and up the stone steps before Rathley, struggling to hold Jo, could close the door on him. He pushed the door fully open. ‘Let go of her!’

  She wrenched away as Rathley’s hold slackened and went to stand beside Peter, her heart pounding. What would have happened if she’d been on her own?

  The older man scowled at them from the doorway. ‘If you touch me, fellow, I’ll call the police!’

  Peter moved down the steps with her, keeping an eye on Rathley. ‘Go ahead and call them. Seems to me, you’re the one who’s been touching people. This lass doesn’t want to stay here.’

  ‘I’ll just get my bags.’ Jo moved towards the bushes.

  Keeping well away from the burly young man, Rathley followed her down the side of the stone steps and blocked her way. ‘What do you think you’re doing in my garden?’

  ‘I packed my bags and brought them out here this morning. I’m taking them and leaving.’

  ‘I’m not aiding and abetting you in this immorality. Do as your mother wishes and come back into the house this instant.’

  The other young man joined them. ‘ Immorality! You know who I am, Mr Rathley. As the son of the Methodist minister, is it likely I’d be involved in something immoral? I’m concerned about this young lady, who is a stranger here, and my mother and father are too. What right have you to force her to stay with you?’

  ‘Her mother has asked me to keep an eye on her, if it’s any of your business.’

  ‘Where exactly are the bags?’ Peter asked her in a low voice.

  ‘Behind those bushes.’ The trouble was, Rathley was now between her and the case.

  ‘Potterton!’ he yelled suddenly. ‘Help me! Potterton!’

  Jo saw a man who looked like a gardener peep round the corner of the house at his employer’s call, then bob quickly back out of sight again before his master could turn that way and see him.

  Another man was walking along the street and when the gardener didn’t answer his call, Rathley turned towards him and once again shouted loudly. ‘Help me! These people are trying to rob me.’

  The man stopped dead, gaping at them.

  Wilf Pollard cursed under his breath when he saw that it was Rathley who’d called out to him. This man was the last person he’d ever want to help, but he didn’t like to turn away from anyone in trouble so he stopped and tried to work out exactly what was going on.

  He suddenly realised that the young man with his back to the street, who looked to be in a threatening position towards Rathley, was Peter Tucker. That surprised him. Peter was a decent young chap employed by a carpenter in the town. And wasn’t that the minister’s son? Yes, it was definitely young Fernby.

  That settled it in Wilf’s mind. It was more likely that they were the ones in trouble if they were dealing with Rathley. Or perhaps it was the young woman standing to one side of the three men who was in trouble and they’d come to her rescue? She certainly looked upset.

  He had problems of his own so it was with great reluctance that he moved towards the group, stopping nearby and waiting for Rathley to explain why he’d called out for help.

  ‘These fellows are stealing from me, Pollard,’ Rathley said. ‘Help me get those bags back into the house.’

  He couldn’t even see any bags. What on earth was going on here?

  ‘That’s not true!’ the young woman exclaimed. ‘That’s my suitcase and bag, and all I’m doing is trying to leave this house and take my possessions with me.’ She darted behind a big bush and started dragging out a battered suitcase.

  Wilf was still more confused. Why would a suitcase be hidden out here? But as Rathley took a step towards the woman, he looked so threatening that Wilf moved too. He didn’t blame her for wanting to leave, and could make a good guess as to why she was upset: for the same reason as other young women in the town had been.

  He was surprised that Rathley would do something to upset a young woman staying in his own house, though, given how fiercely respectable Mrs Rathley was known to be. He gestured to Peter and his friend to stand back. The three of them mustn’t look as if they were threatening Rathley.

  To his relief a car drove along the street just then. Recognising it, he yelled, ‘Stop that car, Fernby!’

  The minister’s son flagged it down, arms waving wildly, and it screeched to a halt.

  As Charlie Willcox got out, Wilf sighed in relief and beckoned to him. No one would be able to accuse such a well-known figure in the town of trying to steal from anyone.

  Charlie got out of the car and came to join them. ‘What’s up, lad?’

  Wilf had to move quickly to stop Rathley going up to the young woman. ‘Stay back.’

  ‘Have you run mad?’ Rathley asked. ‘This is my own house. I can go where I like.’

  Charlie stared from one to the other, mouth falling open in shock.

  Wilf spoke quickly.
‘Mr Rathley stopped me as I was walking past and asked me to help him. He claims this lass is stealing from him. She says these are her own bags and she’s just trying to leave the house with them. Will you help me sort it out?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘You can send those two fellows away for a start,’ Rathley said loudly. ‘They’ve been threatening me and I’ve told them to leave my property.’

  ‘What are you two doing here?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘My mother sent us to escort Miss Melling and carry her suitcase. This young lady is going to stay with us. Rathley tried to stop her forcibly from leaving. I saw him grab her and try to drag her inside.’

  ‘ Mr Rathley to such as you! And you’re mistaken. She stumbled and I was merely helping her.’

  ‘He’d grabbed me to pull me into his house. Who does he think he is?’ Jo said loudly.

  Charlie looked at Rathley suspiciously, wondering what the hell was going on. All he was sure of was that he didn’t trust the fellow one inch, never had, never would. ‘If she wants to leave you have no right to stop her.’

  Glaring at them all, Rathley stayed where he was. ‘I didn’t ask for your help, thank you, Willcox, so if you’re going to try to interfere, you can just leave my property as well. I can deal with this person myself if Pollard will keep those two from attacking me. She’s trying to steal from me.’

  ‘You liar!’ Jo yelled.

  Charlie was intrigued. He studied the young woman, liking her fresh face and neat clothes. You could usually tell whether people were decent or not, and she surely was. He couldn’t quite place her accent, though. ‘What’s your explanation, Miss, um …?’

  ‘My name’s Melling. I escorted Mr Rathley’s cousin from Australia to England and we stayed here last night, as arranged. Someone tried to get into my bedroom during the night, so I decided to move out earlier than planned. Only my suitcase is heavy so I left it and the bag in the bushes till I could check whether Mrs Tucker would let me go to stay with her. She sent her son to help me carry the bags, and his friend came with us.’

  That sounded reasonable enough to Charlie. ‘Go on, miss.’

  ‘Mr Rathley tried to stop me leaving and is now accusing me of stealing my own suitcase.’ She held out her arm to show him the red marks on her wrist.

  ‘All lies!’ Rathley said at once.

  Charlie looked at the case and asked the obvious question. ‘Do you have a key for that padlock, miss?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do.’ She fumbled in her handbag and produced it, unlocking the padlock.

  ‘She’s stolen the key from the hook in the hall,’ Rathley said at once.

  She turned on him. ‘Another of your lies! What sort of man are you?’

  Charlie managed not to grin openly at that, because Rathley was known to tell lies about anything and everything.

  She flung open the case. ‘Have a look at what this contains, Mr Willcox. Those are hardly a man’s possessions. And you’ll find an embroidered pouch underneath the clothes, one my mother made for me when I was little. Ask him what’s embroidered on it. He won’t know because he’s never seen it.’

  Charlie took a quick glance inside the case, lifting the edge of the neatly folded garments to find the pouch. ‘Well, Rathley? What’s embroidered on this pouch?’

  ‘I have no need to prove anything to you. I think I’m well enough known and respected in this town for you to take my word against that of a complete stranger.’

  Charlie couldn’t hold back a scornful snort. Respected! Only by his cronies, who were just as bad as him. He turned back to the young woman. ‘I believe you, miss.’

  That voice boomed out again behind him. ‘You’ll regret insulting me, Willcox.’

  Charlie swung round. ‘Oh no, I won’t. You’re well known for avoiding the truth if it suits you. And if any accidents happen to me or mine, I won’t wait for the police, I’ll retaliate in kind.’

  Rathley let out a gobbling sound that sounded like an indignant turkey, drew a deep breath and started to speak.

  Jo interrupted him. ‘I’d rather you checked all the contents of this suitcase while you’re at it, Mr Willcox, in case there are any accusations later from this liar. And then you can check the bag as well. I can tell you what’s in it before you open it, a fairy with a wand.’

  The other three men were standing behind Charlie, grinning broadly now.

  ‘Good idea.’ It was, but that didn’t stop Charlie flushing with embarrassment as he did what she’d asked. He found only outer clothing and beneath it underwear, as well as the sort of personal possessions a young woman would need. ‘Nothing likely to be yours here, Rathley, unless you’ve taken to wearing women’s clothes. And you’d be too big to fit into these, anyway.’

  The three young men chuckled at that.

  Rathley drew himself up, glaring at them all impartially. ‘I can see that I shall have to be frank about this unfortunate matter, then. My cousin is this young person’s mother and she is concerned about Miss Melling’s immoral behaviour on the way here from Australia. She has asked me to help her deal with it by guiding her daughter’s actions from now on.’

  ‘That’s another lie! His cousin is not my mother, she’s my stepmother – unfortunately for me!’ Jo exclaimed. ‘And I’ve never done anything immoral in my life, let alone on the ship.’

  Charlie was shocked by these accusations from Rathley, but once again he knew who he believed. ‘I think you’d better come round to my house for the time being, miss. You’ll be safe there with my wife till we sort this out and nobody had better accuse us of condoning immorality.’

  He turned to add sharply, ‘What’s more, if what you’ve said about her is untrue, it might be called slander, Rathley, in which case, I shall take Miss Melling to consult my lawyer.’

  Allan Fernby stepped forward. ‘I think we should ask my mother to get involved in this as well, Mr Willcox. As a minister’s wife, she has a particular interest in young women whose virtue is being threatened by those who should know better.’ He stared pointedly at Rathley as he said this.

  ‘Her virtue is not being threatened! On the contrary. I’m trying to protect her from her own foolishness.’

  Charlie’s snort of disbelief was echoed by, ‘He’s lying again!’ from the young woman.

  ‘I shall wash my hands of this whole business,’ Rathley said loudly. ‘But you will regret helping her, Willcox, without my needing to lift a finger. That sort of person is not to be trusted. She’ll soon be known for what she is.’ He turned and walked into the house, slamming the door hard behind him.

  Charlie let out his breath in a long whoosh. ‘What on earth did you do to upset him, Miss Melling?’

  ‘Apart from trying to leave this morning, what I did was lock my bedroom door last night and threaten to hit him with a brass candlestick if he kept trying to get in.’

  Charlie frowned as her name suddenly sank in. ‘Melling? Are you any relation to the Mellings of Barcup Farm?’

  ‘I might be. I’m hoping so. I may be from Australia but my grandfather’s family came from round here originally. I’ve arranged to stay in Mrs Tucker’s lodging house and she’s going to introduce me to Kath Melling later today.’

  ‘You’d be welcome to take refuge any time at my mother’s house, if you need to,’ Allan said. ‘It’s next to the Methodist chapel. And we’d look after you, I promise.’

  Charlie stepped back. ‘Well, I hope things go well for you, Miss Melling. But remember, if you need any more help, Peter and his mother know where I live, or you can catch me at one of my shops. I’m well known in this town and I’m quite sure no one would ever accuse me or my wife of condoning immorality.’

  ‘You’re all very kind. Thank you so much. I hope it won’t be necessary to ask for further help. I doubt I’ll be staying long in this town, especially after what happened today.’

  As she turned towards Peter, he picked up her suitcase and they set off. Allan fell in beside them ca
rrying the bag.

  Jo let out her breath in a long whoosh of relief as they walked away from Rathley’s house.

  When the trio had disappeared in the direction of the town, Charlie exchanged glances with Wilf that said a lot more than mere words. ‘Rathley’s getting worse.’

  ‘I’ve heard a couple of tales of his womanising lately. They say he visits a woman in that place in Backshaw Moss regularly, you know the one I mean.

  ‘Packman Alley?’

  Charlie let out a little growl of disgust. ‘Yes. It’s an open secret what goes on in those three houses. Only it’s hard to know what to do about that, given that he hasn’t openly broken the law and there have been no fights or other trouble there. Sergeant Deemer isn’t happy about the situation, though.’

  ‘The whole of Backshaw Moss is a disgrace, the worst slum in the whole valley.’

  ‘Well, just between you and me for the moment, the place is on a list some of us have made of things we intend to draw to the new council’s attention. It’s more than time those slums were cleaned up, and there’s been legislation passed by the government to help us in recent years. Why haven’t they taken advantage of the grants available?’

  Wilf nodded. ‘Good to hear. Everyone’s saying how furious Rathley and his cronies are at how the recent council elections went. It’s a miracle he got elected again as a councillor. Must have paid out a small fortune in bribes to do it, and even so, it was a close call, the counters said. I’m glad we’ve got you on the council now. They won’t be able to push you around.’

  Charlie rolled his eyes. ‘It’s not a job I ever wanted, but the mayor was rather persuasive about a few of us standing for office and supporting his initiatives for improving our town.’

  ‘I’m sure we’ll see a few changes for the better now. Apart from anything else, Backshaw Moss is a health hazard, the drains are so bad. Have you walked round it lately?’

  ‘Well, no.’

  ‘Try it. The place stinks. It’s been bad for a while, but it’s getting worse rapidly. And diseases from poor drainage spread to the better areas, you know. My Enid wouldn’t even move to a house in Birch End because it was at the far end of the terraces near Backshaw Moss and she was worried for the children’s health.’