Sixpenny Stalls

by Beryl Kingston

  The solicitor’s letter, Caroline thought, and the words nipped at her heart and closed her throat. The letter that will bring all this out in the open so that everyone will know what a dreadful mistake I’ve made. ‘If you don’t mind,’ she said, keeping her voice steady with a conscious effort, ‘I will spend the day here with Harry. It would be foolish to extend our book trade with this matter hanging over our heads, don’t you think?’

  ‘Aye, I suppose it would,’ Nan said kindly. ‘The truth is that neither of us can do very much at present. I shall come home myself when I’ve seen what’s what.’

  The dreaded letter had arrived while they were away. It was waiting on Caroline’s desk, couched in terms that were politely reasonable even though the information they imparted was every bit as bad as they’d feared. The firm of A. Easter and Sons in general and the person responsible for book sales in particular were to be sued under the Vagrancy Act of 1824 on the grounds that on the tenth day of May 1848 they had committed a public nuisance, viz offering for sale a lewd publication of gross indecency entitled Joys in the Persian Garden. The hearing was set for October 1848. They had the honour to be, Yr most obednt servts …’

  Well, now we know the worst of it, Nan thought, brushing her hands against each other in that old familiar gesture of hers, so ‘tis just a matter of planning our campaign. That’s all. And keeping it as quiet as she could so as to protect their sales. The slightest breath of scandal always had a devastating effect on sales. She would tell Billy that afternoon when he came into the warehouse, and Henry and Edward now, but there was no need for it to go any further.

  She sent one of her young runners down to the warehouse to find Mr Edward, and when the boy was gone, she walked along the corridor to Henry’s office.

  At various moments during the previous five days she had pondered the question of what she ought to do about Henry. His behaviour had been highly reprehensible, that was true, and certainly bad enough to warrant dismissal, but quarrels between husbands and wives were usually a private concern, and he had never raised a finger to Caroline before, and there was always the hope that they would see sense and make it up. Then again there were the undeniable facts that he was a valuable member of the firm, and the only person who could cope with John’s complicated timetables, and a member of the family in his own right. All in all it was a peculiar situation. She was no nearer a decision when she stepped into his office.

  He jumped to his feet at the sight of her, standing to attention like a trouper, and she was moved to see how distressed he looked. He was thinner than usual and very pale and there were mauve shadows under his eyes.

  But he greeted her courteously, offering the most comfortable seat, which she accepted; suggesting coffee, which she declined.

  ‘You had better see this,’ she said, putting the solicitor’s letter on the desk before him.

  He read it soberly.

  ‘The books have all been gathered in,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I know. I saw the parcels and guessed what they would be. Is Caroline …?’

  ‘Caroline is still grievously upset by your behaviour.’

  ‘You know of it?’ he said and his frozen hauteur showed how painful it was to have to ask such a question.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘If you wish,’ he said, holding his head high and looking at her steadily, ‘I will tender my resignation. You would have every right to ask for it.’

  ‘Aye, I daresay.’

  It was a hard moment for him, but he faced it squarely. ‘When should I leave?’ he asked.

  She was touched by his correctness and that haughty vulnerable pride. ‘I’ve no desire to see you leave at all,’ she said. ‘And certainly not before we’ve faced this trial. You’re a deal too valuable.’

  ‘But a deal too cruel to your granddaughter.’

  ‘Whatever possessed ’ee?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, honestly, finding that he could talk to her about it after all. ‘I was so angry I didn’t think. Now I would give anything to wipe the slate clean.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ she said, ‘only life en’t that simple.’ Then she turned their attention to other matters. ‘Now then, Mr Brougham will be returning to Bedford Square tomorrow. I daresay he’ll want to question Caroline first, and then anyone else who is involved, and after that we shall know what line the firm is to take. I will keep you informed, you have my word. It will take time, all this.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Of course. It will take time.’

  And then Edward came sauntering into the room, so the conversation had to stop, which was a relief to both of them.

  If Nan had been impressed by the way Henry reacted to the solicitor’s letter, she was puzzled and annoyed by Edward’s insouciance.

  ‘A bad business,’ he said, when he’d scanned the letter, ‘but these things happen, I daresay. We shall have to consider some way of avoiding such mistakes in future, shall we not?’ What do you mean to do about it?’

  ‘Mr Brougham will act for us.’

  ‘Act for us?’

  ‘In the court case.’

  ‘But it won’t come to court, surely?’ he said. This wasn’t what he expected at all.

  ‘Yes,’ Nan said, ‘it will.’ She was aware that Henry was standing behind her stiff-spined with anger and grinding his teeth so fiercely she could hear them where she sat, and really it was no wonder. Had this fool boy not read the letter? ‘Meantime we will keep this in the family.’

  ‘Oh, of course,’ he said, recovering himself. ‘Is there anything else, Nan dear? I was in section 3 you know, in the middle of taking stock. I ought to be getting back.’

  ‘Well, only one other thing,’ she told him, feeling he should know it all. ‘You’ll be glad to know all the books have been gathered in.’

  ‘What books?’

  ‘Why, all the others.’

  Now he was shocked and showed it. ‘You mean there were others?’

  ‘Yes. Of course there were.’

  ‘On sale?’

  ‘On every bookstall from here to Birmingham. It took your cousin and me five whole days to root them all out.’

  ‘But I don’t understand it,’ he said. ‘I mean, I thought it was just one book.’

  ‘If only it were,’ she said, annoyed by his lack of understanding. Then, as he was fidgeting to leave, ‘Oh, cut on back to the warehouse, do. I will keep you informed.’ He might be a bit of a fool, but at least he was eager to get back to work.

  She would have been very annoyed if she’d known that he didn’t go anywhere near the warehouse when he left her. He sent a runner down instead with a message to his workmen that he would be away for an hour or two and that they were to go to the stalls section to pack foot warmers and reading lamps till he returned. Then he left the building through the side door and caught a cab to Mr Jernegan’s office, above the Easter shop in Regent Street.

  ‘An unexpected pleasure, Mr Edward,’ Mr Jernegan said. ‘You have just caught me too. What timing. I’ve been out all morning. Can I offer you a glass of something?’

  ‘What’s all this about a court case?’ Edward said, his eyes bolting.

  ‘Ah yes. One of Mr Snipe’s books, I believe. Mrs Henry hasn’t been seen in the Strand since the letter arrived, so they tell me. You must be very pleased.’

  ‘They were on sale,’ Edward said. ‘On sale, Mr Jernegan. At every bookstall from here to Birmingham. Who put them on sale, Mr Jernegan?’

  Mr Jernegan’s answer was silky smooth. ‘Why, you did, Mr Edward sir.’

  ‘I did! I did!’ Edward roared in disbelief. ‘How can you say such a thing? I gave you strict instructions that they were never to reach the bookstalls. You were to arrange for someone to write in and complain, that was all.’

  ‘And someone has. You should be very happy, Mr Edward sir. Your plot, if we may make so bold as to describe it so, and I think we may make so bold, your plot has been a great success.’r />
  ‘Success!’ Edward shouted. ‘There’ll be a scandal when this comes to trial. The firm could be ruined.’ This wasn’t what he’d intended at all. ‘What the devil were you playing at?’

  ‘I was simply obeying your instructions, Mr Edward sir, as I shall be sure to tell anyone who asks me. It ain’t for the likes of me to suggest action, no indeed, and nobody would expect it. I’m merely an employee of the firm. A man who takes orders from his superiors, if you take my meaning.’

  ‘Mr Maycock was in this too. He’ll know what really happened.’

  ‘Maycock is a catchpaw and a fool,’ Mr Jernegan said, savouring his brandy. ‘He did his part when he ordered the consignment in the first place, according to your instructions, Mr Edward sir, as I’m sure you’ll remember. I think you’ll find, sir, that Mr Maycock knows very little and will say less.’

  ‘Good God, sir, this is hideous,’ Edward said.

  ‘It is what you wanted, Mr Edward sir.’

  ‘Call me a cab,’ Edward ordered. The shock was making him feel quite sick. ‘I must go home at once. This is hideous. Hideous. You won’t get away with it.’

  ‘There is nothing to get away with, as you put it,’ Mr Jernegan said. ‘But I will arrange for a cab since that is what you want. I always obey orders, Mr Edward sir.’

  Actually he arranged for two cabs. The one that arrived first took Mr Easter for a brief stop in the Strand and then on to his home, the other, which came ten minutes later, took Mr Jernegan to the offices of the Daily Record. If there was going to be a difference of opinion, then the sooner he told his version of the story the better.

  Despite her worries Caroline was almost happy that afternoon. She and Totty and the nursemaid took Harry out for a drive in the countryside, over Primrose Hill and past Kilburn Wells all the way to the pretty little village of Willesden Green. The sun was pleasantly warm, the sky a most delicious blue and the prospect marvellously rural. The fields were yellow with corn, and there were strawberries and cream for sale at a little thatched cottage at the crossroads. It was all a little unreal, but enjoyable just the same.

  When they got home Euphemia was back from the hospital and wearing a pretty tea gown instead of that awful starchy uniform, and there was plenty of time to sit in the garden and talk. Euphemia was full of sympathy and said all the things her cousin needed to hear. And what with the sunshine and the sense of being supported Caroline was soon feeling far more like herself again, so that when Nan arrived home with the solicitor’s letter, she took it calmly, ordered fresh tea and said it was no more than she had expected.

  Her calm was short-lived.

  As Nan was drinking the fresh tea, the butler arrived in the garden with a letter for Miss Caroline and an evening newspaper on his silver tray.

  ‘Beg pardon, ma’am,’ he said to Nan, ‘but the housekeeper thought you ought to see this.’

  While Caroline opened her letter, Nan took the paper and spread it out on the tablecloth in front of her. ‘What is it, Morris?’ she asked. ‘“Strikes in Paris.” That en’t Mr William’s work, surely? Not in the Evening Record. ’Tis the wrong paper.’

  ‘No, ma’am,’ Morris said, ‘begging your pardon. It’s the article alongside. About Easter’s, ma’am. We thought you ought to know.’

  ‘“Easter’s to be sued over sale of lewd book”,’ Nan read calmly, as Caroline and Euphemia caught their breath a little too audibly. ‘Ah, I see. Yes, Morris, you were right to show me. Thank Mrs Brown for me, if ‘ee will. There was another matter, was there not?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Miss Caroline’s letter.’

  ‘Ah, I see. Thank you.’

  When the butler was back in the house and out of earshot, Caroline and Euphemia rushed to read the paper. ‘We were going to keep it in the family,’ Caroline said. ‘How could they possibly know about it?’

  ‘Quite,’ Nan said grimly. ‘You en’t spoke of it to anyone, I know that. And apart from us and Mr Brougham the only other people I’ve told are Billy and Edward and Henry.’

  ‘Is it in any of the other newspapers?’ Euphemia wondered.

  ‘If it en’t,’ Nan said, ‘it soon will be.’

  ‘But who could have told them?’ Caroline worried.

  ‘Billy never would,’ Nan said. ‘And for all his faults I don’t think Henry would either.’

  ‘No,’ Caroline agreed. ‘He wouldn’t. The firm is too important to him. He told me that in this letter.’

  ‘Was it from Henry then?’ Nan asked, glancing at it.

  ‘Yes,’ Caroline said sadly, looking down at the closely written page. ‘He wants to apologize to me.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure he means it,’ Euphemia urged. ‘You will give him a hearing, won’t you my darling? Oh, I know he behaved quite dreadfully but we all make mistakes.’

  ‘I don’t know what I shall do,’ Caroline said. ‘It all seems so distant in the light of the trial and this article and everything. I truly don’t know. I shall have to wait until the case is over and done with before I can even think about it.’

  ‘Shall you answer his letter?’ Euphemia said. ‘Oh, do that at least. I’m sure he didn’t mean to be cruel. It was done in haste.’

  ‘But it was done,’ Caroline said. ‘And all the words in the world can’t alter that.’

  ‘I shall have a few words to say to Edward in the morning,’ Nan said grimly.

  But Edward had other plans.

  Chapter 28

  Mirabelle was in her drawing room supervising the arrangements for the poetic salon that was to be held there that evening. It was her custom to choose a different colour scheme for every occasion so as to surprise her guests and bring a little excitement to the discreet blue and green of the decor. Tonight’s colours were magenta, rose-pink, gold and white, and therefore involved not only the most elaborate flower arrangements, which she was attending to herself, but also a change of curtains, a display of silver and considerable rearrangement of the furniture. She and the housekeeper and six of her servants were all hard at work on the transformation when Edward came panting into the room.

  She could see at once from his flushed forehead and over-bright eyes that something serious was amiss, so she extricated herself from her chores as quickly and gracefully as she could and led them upstairs to their bedroom before he could reveal too much to the servants’ sharpening ears.

  ‘What is it, my dear?’ she said, when the door was shut on the possibility of being overheard.

  ‘We are going to the Continent,’ he said dramatically, ‘for a holiday. What do you think of that? I’ve seen Papa. It’s all planned.’ His agitation was now very marked indeed, his hands trembling and a nerve pulsing beside his left eye.

  ‘An admirable plan,’ she said. ‘When is this to be?’

  ‘Why, today!’ he said, half demanding, half pleading. ‘Tonight.’

  ‘Now come, Edward,’ she said, sitting down in her easy chair beside the window and averting her poor eye from his gaze. ‘That is impossible, as well you know. I have a salon tonight. It is all arranged.’

  ‘You can cancel it, can’t you?’ he said, and now his voice sounded petulant.

  ‘I have over fifty guests invited,’ she said gently. ‘It would be neither proper nor kind to disappoint them.’

  ‘But it is proper and kind to disappoint me.’

  ‘Not at all,’ she said glancing at him. ‘Had you mentioned this earlier I would have been more than happy to comply, but as things stand it cannot be.’

  ‘And if I insist?’ he said, scowling at her, blue eyes strained and unblinking.

  ‘You may insist all you please,’ she said, ‘but I must be here for the salon. A holiday, however pleasant, cannot be allowed to take precedence over one’s duty.’

  ‘You have a duty to me.’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘Then pray do as I say. Obey me.’

  ‘Now come, my dear,’ she said, turning her head to face him fully, ‘this is a worthless argume
nt, for you know very well that I cannot obey you. We are not free agents in this matter, however much we may wish to be.’

  His frustration and fear exploded into anger. ‘You do not love me!’ he shouted. ‘I see it all now. I mean nothing to you. This wretched salon is more important to you than I am.’

  ‘Maintain a sense of proportion, Edward, I beg you,’ she said, endeavouring to indicate with a backward glance from her good eye that the servants would hear him if he went on shouting.

  But he had lost his balance completely. There was no stopping him. ‘The world is all awry,’ he said. ‘Women work where they’ve no business to be. Can you wonder mistakes are made? What else would you expect? Women should stay at home and look after their husbands. That’s what women should do. There’s hardly a woman alive nowadays who knows how to behave. And wives disobey their husbands, as well you know. And a poor state the world is in when that happens. It’s against the teaching of the church! Against nature! And then there are underlings with no sense of their place in society.

  Underlings don’t know how to behave either. They won’t do as they’re told. They take it into their heads to act without instructions! I ask you! Underlings! It’s all wrong! How can anyone survive in such a world? Is it any wonder I need a holiday? I should go away at once, before I suffer a brain fever. It’s enough to send me straight into a brain fever, it is indeed. How would you like that? But no! No! I see it all. You wouldn’t care. I could fall dead at your feet and you wouldn’t care. You haven’t an ounce of love in your body or you would come away with me now. Where are you going?’

  For Mirabelle was walking across the bedroom towards his private cabinet. ‘Mirabelle?’

  She was choosing a key from the bunch that hung from the chatelaine at her waist, fitting that key into the lock of his secret cupboard. His secret cupboard! The cupboard where he kept his fantasies. The cupboard she wasn’t supposed to know anything about. Dear God!

  ‘You are in a panic, my dear,’ she said calmly, ‘or you would not speak so wildly of other people’s faults when your own are so glaring. Or do you imagine I know nothing of them? Now then, is your sudden decision anything to do with these, I wonder?’