Miss Matilda Hayward and the Freak Show (Miss Matilda Hayward series Book 1)

by Helen Goltz

  When they had finished their soup, Harry said, ‘Tell me about the crime yet to happen.’

  Thomas smiled; he couldn’t get much past his partner. ‘It’s between us for now?’ he asked.

  ‘Got that, isn’t everything?’ Harry asked.

  Thomas looked at the older detective with admiration; he was the best of partners and Thomas knew he was lucky.

  Thomas took a large gulp of his lager, which he realised would have tasted better if he finished it before the soup, placed it down and said, ‘The Freak Show’s in town.’

  ‘I heard it was. I went to one when I was a young man, never again. I felt as if I was in a human zoological garden,’ Harry said with a shake of his head.

  ‘Indeed,’ Thomas agreed. ‘However, Matilda – Miss Hayward – visited with the purpose of writing an article for that newspaper she works for,’ he said with obvious disdain. ‘While there, the giantess slipped her a note relaying that she was being forced to appear at the exhibition by her husband.’ Thomas tapped on the outside of the file bearing the name Carl Tufton.

  ‘She’s married, the big woman?’ Harry said.

  ‘Apparently so,’ Thomas said. Like Daniel, he could not imagine bedding such a large woman.

  ‘Oh well, there’s no accounting for taste and what some men might find appealing. In all my years of policing, I’m rarely surprised by human nature, but I prefer a more feminine figure of a woman,’ Harry said and stopped to admire the waitress who brought them their cutlery, salt and pepper and the promise of steak and kidney pie.

  Yes, me too, Thomas thought. Someone like Miss Matilda Hayward.

  He continued, ‘Just as I thought, this Tufton character has a record as long as my arm – petty theft, drunkenness and attempted murder.’

  ‘Attempted?’ Harry asked.

  ‘He was acquitted.’

  ‘Then making his wife work in such a place is not beneath him,’ Harry said.

  ‘I agree. I’ll alert Matilda and confer with her father on a course of action for Mrs Tufton.’

  ‘Did you want me to do that for you?’ Harry asked, and laughed when he saw Thomas’s face. ‘Just teasing you, my boy,’ he said. ‘I would never deprive you of a bona fide opportunity to meet with Miss Hayward.’

  Thomas cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the topic. He had made no advances to Matilda, and he did not believe they would be welcomed.

  ‘It’s not like that,’ he assured his partner.

  ‘Because she’s your best friend’s sister?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Maybe, although I don’t think Daniel would object, he appears to think I’m all right.’ Thomas smiled. ‘But I’ve known Matilda since we were children, we’re friends.’

  ‘But she’s a woman now, and a beautiful one at that. I suspect a few men have noticed.’

  Thomas stiffened; he had noticed too. After all, detecting was his business.

  He took a deep breath. ‘If I were to court her and then we fell out, it could ruin my relationship with the family.’

  ‘But if it worked out, imagine the relations you will have. They are already family, are they not?’ Harry asked. Before Thomas could reply, Harry glanced at the file. ‘But let’s win Miss Hayward’s favour by saving Mrs Tufton before it is too late.’

  ‘Yes,’ Thomas agreed. ‘I’ll call on Matilda this evening.’

  Harry’s endorsement was like approval for Thomas to follow through with the lead; the young gun wasn’t averse to taking the recommendation of his colleague when it best suited him.

  Chapter 6

  The ink was barely dry from Mrs Lawson’s printing press when, armed with two copies of the latest edition of The Women’s Journal, Matilda made her way back to the Freak Show, but first, a quick stop at her home. The evening was falling, and she thought it best to let Mrs Jarvis – Harriet – know that she needed to run an errand and might be late for dinner.

  ‘Really Matilda, it’s dangerous for you to be going to that place on your own at the best of times, let alone in the evening,’ Harriet scolded her. ‘I shall keep your dinner warm, but I’m telling you that your father won’t be pleased, and I won’t be keeping it from him.’

  Matilda grimaced. ‘Thank you, Harriet. I hardly need an escort, but because it is getting dark, I won’t go alone.’

  ‘Well, none of your brothers is home yet so unless you intend to engage Mr Hayward to take you and he is busy in his study, so who did you have in mind?’ Harriet asked, overstepping the mark which she had done for years and was expected, given her good intentions.

  ‘I’ll ask Thomas – Detective Ashdown – to accompany me.’

  Harriet breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Good. That does set my mind at ease,’ she said. ‘Make haste then and don’t be any later than you need to be.’ Harriet put her hand to her chest as though calamity was inevitable. ‘Be careful.’

  Matilda nodded. ‘Don’t worry, I shall be fine and home before you know it.’ She gave Harriet a quick kiss on the cheek, hiding her frustration – she had no choice now but to drop into the constabulary and see if Thomas could escort her, not that she felt she needed an escort. She would be home before the clock struck seven.

  ‘Your hat!’ Harriet called behind her, and with a roll of her eyes, Matilda hurried back, snatched the straw sailor hat from Harriet and plonking it unceremoniously on her head, hurried on again hearing Harriet’s mutterings of, ‘you must be bonneted, booted and gloved to attract a man,’ ringing in her ears.

  In truth, Matilda didn’t want Thomas coming with her. There was no point wasting his time when she was merely dropping off the newspaper copies and privately assuring Mrs Tufton, the giantess, that she was investigating further on her behalf.

  Fortunately, the matter of Thomas escorting her was quickly resolved.

  ‘He’s not in, miss,’ the young constable at the front desk advised her. ‘Can I leave a message?’

  ‘No, that’s fine, thank you,’ Matilda said, relieved, and she hurried to catch the omnibus that would take her to the exhibition which ran nightly until 10pm. If it were daytime, she would have comfortably walked the distance at her leisure.

  When she arrived, there was a small queue waiting for their turn to enter – most people were probably at home having dinner and bound to come after for the evening shows. The owner, Alfred E. Burnham, recognised her immediately.

  He bowed low. ‘Ah, already?’ His eyes widened at seeing an edition of the newspaper in her hand.

  ‘Hot off the print press, Mr Burnham,’ Matilda said, handing him a copy. ‘I knew you would be keen to see it. May I go through and give Mrs Tufton her copy?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, standing aside and ushering her through.

  Matilda thanked him and continued. She avoided looking at the troubled souls on display, where possible, and if there were no people to obstruct her view, she glanced only enough to give them a small nod of recognition and to move on. Arriving at the giantess’s area, Matilda found the stage empty, as she expected. A sign indicated the next show was in fifteen minutes, and a few people sat in the gallery resting until the show. Matilda moved closer to the stage curtain.

  ‘Mrs Tufton, it’s Matilda Hayward from The Women’s Journal. May I enter?’ She felt oddly nervous, and then the curtain opened slightly. Matilda stepped through.

  ‘You’ve come back, Miss Hayward,’ said the woman, towering over her.

  ‘Matilda, please.’

  ‘Anna,’ Mrs Tufton reciprocated. She stepped back, understanding how imposing her size may be to a more delicate person. ‘Please take a seat.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Matilda said, and both ladies sat. Matilda noted Anna wore a duplicate of the last satin dress she saw her in, only this time it was bright blue. Perhaps they were made for the show.

  ‘May I speak freely?’ Matilda asked.

  Anna shook her head in the negative, but played along. ‘Of course, and it’s good to see you again
. Did you have more questions?’

  ‘No, in fact, I brought you a copy of the newspaper, just printed. I thought you might be keen to see it.’ Matilda handed it over. She paused at the sound of a scream, but Anna did not seem at all surprised.

  ‘Some of the ladies get a little overwrought on seeing some of our artists,’ she explained. ‘Thank you for bringing me a copy, how wonderful.’

  They continued the charade; Matilda unaware of who might be listening in, but respecting Mrs Tufton’s wishes.

  ‘I’m glad you caught me,’ Anna said. ‘In a week I’ll be heading off to our next venue, most exciting and across the country. I arrive in Perth just in time to celebrate my twenty-fourth birthday.’

  Matilda smiled and nodded her understanding. ‘I am glad I caught you too and many happy returns for when the day arrives. As well as bringing you one of the first copies off the press, my visit has another purpose. I wanted to assure you that your story will remain with me.’

  Matilda glanced around and returned her attention to Anna. For just a moment they stared at each other, their gaze saying volumes, and Anna nodded.

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’

  ‘I’d love to stay in touch. You know I enjoy writing, so perhaps we could correspond,’ Matilda suggested.

  ‘Indeed, that would be my pleasure,’ Anna said. ‘If you provide your address, I’ll advise of my forwarding addresses as I tour.’

  Matilda scribbled her address and on the back of her note wrote, ‘non perdet fidem’ – don’t lose faith. She wasn’t sure if Anna’s education would afford her understanding of the line, but she could research it. Matilda was quickly rewarded as Anna read it, nodded and mouthed the words, ‘thank you.’

  ‘Will Mr Tufton be touring with you?’ Matilda asked.

  ‘Yes, he manages my appearances, makes the bookings, collects and manages our household purse.’

  ‘Lovely. How did you meet, if you don’t mind me being too familiar?’ Matilda asked, attempting to make her question sound friendly, as if two ladies were speaking over tea and scones. The thought made her hungry, as it was, after all, dinner time.

  ‘Mr Tufton, Carl, was known to my family. We are a farming family, and his family had a mercantile store in the nearby town. Carl asked my father for permission, he consented, and we had a short courtship. We both love the country and like to travel.’

  ‘Yes, I see, and how fortunate to find love nearby and to share things in common,’ Matilda said, and both women hid their smiles from their shared secret. Matilda continued talking in riddles that Anna would understand: ‘I have four brothers and no suitor in sight. Most of us are single, but my eldest brother, Amos, is a solicitor and recently married. Like my editor, Mrs Lawson, he is a quick study on all legal matters pertaining to marriage, separation, home purchasing…’

  Anna nodded that she understood. ‘I imagine that with four brothers, you would be spoiled for suitors should you express interest.’

  Matilda smiled. ‘One of my brothers’ childhood friends, Detective Thomas Ashdown, is a close friend of mine. Perhaps one day… but at the moment he is busy on cases and working his way through people’s history and past offences.’

  ‘Must be terribly time consuming but I expect it shows the character of those involved or suspected to be involved.’

  ‘I imagine so,’ Matilda said and gave her a brief nod and smile. She had succeeded in getting all her information across to Mrs Tufton that she had the two men working on her behalf. ‘I’d best not keep you; I imagine you want to prepare before your next show.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Anna said. ‘It was good of you to remember me, Matilda.’

  ‘You are unforgettable, Anna, and not for the reason you may think,’ Matilda said and rising, the ladies shook hands, Matilda’s engulfed in Anna’s meaty hand. The desperate look on Anna’s face touched Matilda’s heart and she left feeling most despondent.

  As she moved through the small crowd that had now queued to enter the tented exhibition and accepted the thanks yet again from Mr Burnham who seemed pleased with the article and free promotion of his event, she made her way towards the road. The crowds were swelling, particularly in the tent serving beverages, which was a little too close to the Freak Show for her liking. Several men had a skinful as her father would say.

  ‘Evening miss.’ A man tipped his hat to her.

  She nodded and gave him a small smile, while increasing her pace as best she could in her corset and fashionably tight skirt. She avoided eye contact and continued away from the crowd but not before she overheard several lewd and complimentary remarks made in her direction.

  ‘Goodness,’ Matilda said, jumping back a step as a man appeared and stumbled before her. She moved away, well past his reach and attempt to accost her. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and wheeled around, startled to find another stranger, who was no stranger to the bottle.

  ‘Ma’am would you like to join me for a drink and a little company?’ he said, slurring his words and squeezing her shoulder. It was hard to distinguish whether the alcohol or tobacco was the strongest scent emanating from him.

  ‘No, she would not care to join you,’ a man said, giving the large, inebriated stranger a firm push away.

  Matilda turned to find Detective Thomas Ashdown beside her.

  ‘Thomas!’ she exclaimed with relief at seeing the detective.

  ‘Matilda,’ he said, in a voice far from happy.

  The man came back at Thomas, angry and fuelled with alcohol.

  ‘I’ll take you on. I saw her first,’ he said and made a wild swing at the detective.

  Matilda yelped as Thomas pushed her behind him with one hand and ducked the blow. He fired back one of his own and then straightened his hat as the man stumbled to the ground. He shook out his fist; the man had a jaw of iron.

  Thomas stood over him. ‘I suggest you don’t rise until we are out of sight, or you’ll spend the night in the lockup,’ he said and flashed the police badge clipped inside his coat.

  ‘Right you are then,’ the fallen man said, slurring his words and staying on the ground. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know she was spoken, for especially by a policeman.’

  ‘She’s… never mind,’ Thomas said as Matilda appeared from behind him. His mouth was drawn in a thin line, and he steered her away from the tent.

  ‘Take my arm, Matilda,’ he said. ‘You are quite safe now.’

  Matilda put her arm through his offered crooked arm and they walked towards the street to hail a ride.

  Thomas felt the weight of her arm on him, a familiar ache returned, wanting this to be the future, her arm always through his.

  ‘Thank you, Thomas. How did you know I was here?’ she asked.

  ‘I came by your house to speak with you about Mr Tufton—’

  ‘—ooh, did you?’ she interrupted him. ‘What did you find out?’ she asked, looking up at him with admiration.

  Thomas cleared his throat, trying to maintain his displeasure with her.

  ‘And that is when Harriet informed me that you were here, with me, apparently. But obviously, that is not the case,’ he said, continuing to walk at a pace too fast for Matilda.

  ‘Stop, Thomas.’ She pulled him up. ‘I can’t keep your pace with this skirt on, otherwise I’m sure I should outpace you.’

  He was just about to challenge that notion when he realised that was absurd, they were all grown up now.

  ‘I apologise,’ he said, altering his step and slowing for her.

  ‘And I was not telling an untruth to Harriet,’ Matilda said defensively. ‘I went by your station to ask if you could accompany me at this hour of the night and only because Harriet insisted, but the young constable said you had departed. I only intended to drop off two copies of our latest edition and return home. Really Thomas, it is not as though I was entering a brothel!’

  He snapped to look at her. ‘And how would you know what that might be like?�
�

  ‘Well, I don’t, not as you and Daniel do, but I don’t believe it is a secret what goes on there.’

  He made a huffing sound. They arrived roadside, just as an omnibus pulled in. It would stop conveniently close to Matilda’s Highgate Hill home. Thomas offered her his hand as she stepped up. Once en route she asked again, her voice lowered, ‘What did you find out about Carl Tufton?’

  ‘Never mind that, what might have happened if I hadn’t arrived?’ he asked her, conscious of her proximity to him and her blue eyes studying him with affection.

  She lifted her small bag. ‘I could have swung this at him.’ Matilda concealed her smile at Thomas’s reaction. ‘You are right Thomas, you’re my hero, thank you,’ she said.

  ‘You need not tease me, Matilda, I was only concerned for your welfare,’ he said, haughtily. ‘It’s a man’s business to look after himself and the women he is responsible for through marriage or contact.’

  Matilda laughed. ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yes it is so,’ he said, his frustration rising. ‘And I am always willing to render my services to you, but when you put yourself in these dangerous situations—’

  Matilda cut off his lecture. ‘Well, indeed I am grateful, Thomas. Will that suffice?’ she asked, and he huffed again. ‘So tell me, please, Carl Tufton, what did you learn?’ she begged, her clever countenance and bright eyes assessing him.

  ‘That he is a shady character, and you need to step away from this story,’ Thomas said, sternly.

  Matilda dismissed his comment. ‘Oh Thomas, sadly I know you so well and for so long that your fearsome detective act does not deter me. Quite the opposite. So what now?’

  Chapter 7

  Aunt Audrey – Mrs Samuel Bloomfield – was generous of bosom and opinion. She had a particular fondness for her brother, Mr Hayward, and as they were both widowed and she was her brother’s only surviving sister, Aunt Audrey felt it was her duty to accept the role of matriarch when visiting the Hayward household. Thus, she took pride of place at Sunday lunch, looking at the faces around the table of her nephews and niece, Matilda, along with Amos’s wife Minnie and Daniel’s childhood friend, Thomas – a regular guest for so many years that no one thought to invite him anymore.