Seeing her friend’s pitying expression, Opal had to blink back the tears. She had had to endure so much humiliation over the long, lonely years since her terrible accident; sometimes she wished that she had died that day, because surely it would be better than living with a man who despised her and who seemed to delight in punishing her.
Soon after she left the hospital, gossip had spread about the town about Henry being the father to his ex-housekeeper’s unborn baby; and if the times he was seen visiting her in Weddington were anything to go by, it was true. Sometimes he would not come home for two and three days at a time. But then Blanche gave birth to a baby girl, and Henry’s interest in her seemed to wane.
Since then, Henry had been disappearing to Birmingham on business, again. Opal was quite certain he had another woman – or women – tucked away there. She knew, too, that he had started gambling and drinking heavily, but while he left her alone, she could bear it.
In fact, it was much better for her when he didn’t come home.
For almost a year after the accident she had lived reclusively, until Emma had put her foot down and started to encourage her to go out and about again. Now Opal helped Emma to raise money for the poor and was involved with a number of charities.
Surprisingly, Mrs King had also been very supportive. Secretly she felt guilty for allowing Opal to marry her son in the first place, because as much as she loved him, she was painfully aware of his faults and felt that Opal deserved better.
Now Emma scowled at her. ‘Oh well, I suppose I shall have to do the flowers on my own,’ she said quietly. She reached out and took her hand. ‘But you must realise you can’t go on like this? You’re still young and have your whole life ahead of you, and I hate to see you this way.’
Opal gave a wry smile. ‘Don’t worry about me. I can hold my own with him. He doesn’t get all his own way, and thanks to you I get out of the house often enough. If it were left up to Henry, I would never be seen outside again. Although . . .’ She faltered, wondering if she should tell Emma her concerns, but then it all came pouring out. ‘I wonder if Henry isn’t having financial problems. Cook has been getting demands from all over the place for payment from the butcher, the coalman and his tailor, to name but a few. But every time I mention it to him, he flies into a rage.’
‘Really?’ Emma frowned, but after glancing at the clock she told her, ‘I’m sorry but I really should get on – but don’t worry, I’ll pop in again tomorrow, and in the meantime get some raw steak on that eye.’
Opal gave a weak smile and saw her to the door, just as Eve appeared from the kitchen with a tea tray. She and Will Green had married the year before, much to Opal’s delight, and they were now happily living in the rooms above the stables. Their marriage had coincided with the retirement of Henry’s groom, and Will had taken his place and loved his new job. It was so much nicer than working down the pit. Eve had blossomed too and marriage clearly suited her.
Opal’s only regret was that Henry had forbidden her from attending the wedding. Still, Opal loved to hear Eve chatter on about her parents and her younger brother, and she envied them their closeness. They reminded her of the family she had once had.
Now Eve placed the tray down on a small table in the dining room, and frowned as she examined Opal’s eye.
‘That husband o’ yours is nowt but a bully,’ she stated emphatically. ‘Only a coward hits a woman an’ he’ll come to a sticky end the way he’s carryin’ on, you just mark my words.’
Opal shrugged as she poured the tea. She and Eve had a good relationship, and having someone there who was close to her own age gave Opal comfort. They were friends now rather than mistress and maid – apart from when Henry was there, and then they had to make sure that they were not overly familiar with each other; if he knew just how friendly she and Eve were, he would no doubt dismiss her.
‘So why don’t yer go fer a walk an’ see Will’s mum an’ Charlie the dog?’ Eve suggested. ‘A bit o’ fresh air would do yer good.’
‘I might do that after lunch.’
Opal visited Mrs Green often. Charlie was getting old now and was not as nimble as he used to be, but Opal still loved him dearly and never went without a juicy bone and some treats for him. Mrs Green had given him a loving home and Opal would never be able to thank her enough for that, but she still felt resentful towards Henry for blaming the dog for the accident. The glimpse of the green cloak she had seen before the fall still haunted her. She had never tried to follow it up, but she still firmly believed that it was Esther Partridge who had pushed her. Luckily, though, as she no longer went to any social gatherings, she had not seen her since before her accident.
Later that afternoon, she set off for a walk armed with a basketful of treats for Charlie and some from Cook for Mrs Green and they spent a pleasant afternoon together. More than once, Opal noticed Will’s mother glancing at her bruised eye, but she tactfully didn’t mention it. It was only as she made her way home in the darkening afternoon that the loneliness set in again as she faced yet another solitary night.
Henry was home for dinner that evening, but clearly not in the mood to talk, and as soon as the meal was over, he left the table telling Opal abruptly that he would be out for the night.
After he had gone, Opal read for a while and then decided on an early night. The walk in the fresh air had tired her and almost before her head hit the pillow she was fast asleep.
A pounding on the front door in the early hours of the morning startled her awake. It occurred to her that there was no one to hear it apart from herself. Eve now slept in the rooms above the stable with her husband, and Cook was going deaf. Wondering who it might be at such an hour, Opal struggled into her dressing robe and, after hastily lighting an oil lamp, she groggily made her way downstairs.
When she opened the door, she was shocked to find two policemen standing on the step.
‘We would like to speak with Mrs King,’ the taller of the two said, obviously mistaking her for a maid.
‘Oh, that’s me. Won’t you come in?’ Opal stood aside for them to enter, and once they had both removed their helmets, they glanced at each other uncomfortably.
The taller one cleared his throat and told her, ‘I’m afraid we have very bad news for you, Mrs King. Might we go somewhere where you may sit down?’
Opal blinked in confusion as she nodded, and led them into the drawing room where he went on, ‘Are you the wife of Mr Henry King?’
‘Yes, yes I am. Why? What has happened?’
‘I’m afraid there was an incident some hours ago involving your husband.’
‘An incident? What sort of an incident? Is Henry hurt?’
‘Not exactly . . . I’m afraid it’s worse than that.’ The constable rolled his helmet in his hands nervously. ‘He, er . . . was visiting a house of ill repute in Birmingham and there was a stabbing. I’m sorry, Mrs King, but I’m afraid your husband has died.’
Opal paled to the colour of lint and slammed the oil lamp down on the console table. ‘A . . . a house of ill repute you say? . . . A stabbing? . . . But, there must be some mistake.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid there’s no mistake. Your husband has been clearly identified by documents about his person and a number of people.’
‘You mean . . . he was at a brothel!’
‘I’m afraid so. I’m sorry, ma’am, but it appears that your husband was a regular visitor there.’
Opal’s head wagged from side to side in disbelief. She had always suspected that Henry had other women, but paying for them!
Her legs suddenly started to fold, and the young constable took her elbow and guided her to the nearest chair, asking, ‘Is there anyone we can get to be with you?’
She croakily told him about Eve in the rooms above the stables, and while the other officer stayed with her, he shot off to fetch her.
‘Oh Opal, I can’t believe it. But how did Henry get stabbed?’ Eve said, when she ap
peared in her dressing robe with Will close behind her. He had pulled his shirt and trousers on, but his braces were dangling about his backside and his hair was on end.
‘We don’t know the details yet, but it looks like a fight broke out and Mr King was stabbed.’
‘Well, all I can say is good riddance to bad rubbish, the cruel old bastard!’ Eve said heatedly, as she placed a comforting arm about Opal’s shaking shoulders. All Opal could do was sit there as if she had been turned to stone as she tried to take it in.
‘So, what will happen now?’ Eve asked.
The constable shrugged. ‘His body is at a morgue in Birmingham, but you will be able to have it brought home for burial.’
‘Huh! If it were up to me it could stay where it is to rot!’ Eve exploded – but then remembering Opal, she gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze and, as her mistress was in no state to talk, she addressed the two officers. ‘Anyway, thank you for letting us know. We’ll be in touch presently with arrangements . . .’
The policemen took their leave and Eve led Opal into the drawing room, while Will bolted off to put the kettle on. His mother was a great believer in hot, sweet tea being good for shock, and poor Opal certainly looked like she could do with some at the minute.
Opal sat rocking backwards and forwards for some time as Eve raked the fire back into life and threw on some more coal.
Finally, as Will came into the room with a loaded tea tray, Opal said quietly, ‘We must let his mother know. But not until the morning. I don’t want to distress her any more than I have to. She’s going to be heartbroken and this is going to be hard for her.’
‘I’ll set off first thing and bring her back here,’ Will volunteered, and Opal nodded numbly. The news had shaken her to the core, but she knew it would affect Mrs King even more badly. ‘But what shall I tell her?’
‘The truth. There is no way we’ll be able to keep this quiet; I’ve no doubt it will be splashed all across the newspapers in no time.’
‘You’re probably right.’ Will clumsily poured the tea, splashing almost as much into the saucers as went into the cups, and they sat staring at the window until the dawn broke.
Poor Mrs King took the news as badly as Opal had feared she would, and for the first time in all the years since she had known her, Opal watched her weep brokenly. It was all the harder for Opal to witness because Mrs King was not a woman who showed her feelings easily.
‘I’m so sorry I ever allowed you to marry him,’ she said brokenly as she stared in horror at Opal’s bruised face.
‘You weren’t to know that we wouldn’t suit,’ Opal told her kindly. She felt that she was just as much to blame, for she had not loved Henry when she married him. She had hoped that love would grow in time, but it hadn’t happened – and when Henry had begun to show his true colours, any respect or fondness she had felt for him had withered and died. So she couldn’t be a hypocrite and pretend that she would miss him now. Even so, Opal felt guilty for not shedding a tear. But now she was faced with a funeral to arrange – she owed him that much at least.
And so a few days later, Henry’s body was brought back to his hometown and placed in a chapel of rest at the local undertaker – Opal couldn’t face having him in the house again. She just wanted to lay him to rest and put this whole sorry chapter of her life far behind her.
Chapter Forty-Six
The funeral was arranged as quickly as possible. It was to be a very small service as they were not expecting anyone else to attend – even Esther Partridge had not bothered to send her sympathies to his mother – because only days before, the news of Henry’s death and how it had come about had been splashed across the newspapers.
The morning dawned dismal and drizzly. It had briefly snowed the day before, and now the rain had turned what had settled to slush and it was dangerously slippery underfoot. Henry’s coffin was taken straight to the church from the undertaker, and there was to be no gathering afterwards. As the cook had pointed out, ‘Why go to the bother? There’s not many as’ll bother comin’ anyway, now that they know how ’e died.’
And so Mrs King, Opal, Cook, Will and Eve set off for the service, which at Opal’s request was as short as the vicar could make it. It seemed they had barely entered the church before they were on their way back out again, following the pall-bearers to the grave.
The only wreath was from his mother. Opal had not been able to bring herself to order one, and as they stood at the side of the gaping hole, watching Henry being lowered into it, there was nothing to be heard save the sound of the rain driving on the coffin lid. The vicar performed the rest of the service as quickly as possible, and soon they turned and made for the carriage that was waiting outside the lychgate for them.
‘I . . . I’m so sorry the service was so poorly attended,’ Opal faltered to Mrs King. Henry had been her only child, and for all his faults, she was aware that his mother had loved him.
The old woman shook her head. ‘Don’t be; he deserved nothing more.’ Her face was set, and Opal could only imagine how heartbroken she must be feeling.
They headed back to the house with Henry’s solicitor, who had been one of the few present at the service, following on behind to read Henry’s will to his widow.
‘At least he will have left you well provided for,’ Mrs King commented as they rattled through the streets. ‘That’s something, I suppose, after all the humiliation he has caused you.’
On entering the house, Cook shot off to the kitchen to put the kettle on, as Mrs King hovered in the hallway, saying, ‘I suppose I should be getting home now.’
‘Oh no, please stay for the reading of the will,’ Opal urged, feeling that she needed someone with her. The old woman nodded obligingly, and headed for the drawing room as Eve admitted Mr Cane the solicitor.
Presently, as Mr Cane took the documents he needed from his bag, they sat sipping hot tea and slowly life returned to their frozen limbs.
‘Mrs King . . .’ The man looked decidedly uncomfortable as he glanced at Opal. ‘May I offer my condolences on your loss before we begin?’
The older Mrs King waved her hand at him. ‘Oh, just get on with it, man. In this case, there are no condolences necessary. He got what he deserved, so let’s get this over with. My daughter-in-law has gone through quite enough as it is! I have no doubt my son will be warming his backside in hell by now!’
‘Er . . . yes, quite.’ He coughed and began. ‘This is the last will and testimony of Henry . . .’ His voice droned on, although Opal barely took in a word of what he was saying, until she heard Mrs King gasp.
‘What did you just say? Could you kindly repeat it!’
‘I said that unfortunately I have discovered that Mr King had been taking equity out of the house for some time. In fact, there is nothing left in the house whatsoever. Of course, the furniture, pictures and silverware will have some value, but I’m afraid once they are sold, they will barely cover his debts.’
‘What debts?’ Mrs King demanded, as Opal’s mouth fell open.
‘It seems that Mr King had run up quite considerable gambling debts which will need to be paid . . .’ The man’s voice trailed away miserably, as Mrs King and Opal looked at each other in horror.
The old lady found her voice first and she ground out, ‘You mean to tell me he has left Opal with no home?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ he mumbled, keeping his eyes downcast.
‘But what will happen to the staff?’ Opal said worriedly.
Mrs King was so angry she looked as if she was about to explode. ‘The three of them can come and live with me,’ she said, solving one problem at least. ‘And as the horses and carriages were once mine anyway, we shall take them back to my house. And of course, you shall have a home with me for as long as you wish,’ she ended.
Tears sprung to Opal’s eyes, temporarily blinding her. ‘B-but I can’t do that. How shall I pay my way?’
‘Pah!’ The old lady snorted. ‘You’r
e family and have no need to. Truth be told, I’ve missed you and we’ll be good company for each other.’ Then, turning her attention to the solicitor again, she told him, ‘Arrange an auction or whatever you have to do to sell the contents of the house and if they don’t cover the cost of his debts, I shall settle the rest in full and that will be an end to it.’
‘As you wish, ma’am. And again, I’m so sorry to have to tell you such bad news.’
Once the solicitor had left, Mrs King took control of the situation – which was just as well because Opal was in deep shock – and rang the bell pull to call for Eve.
‘Yes, ma’am?’ Eve said as she entered the room.
‘I would like you to ask the staff to join us.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Although I believe Will is in the stables rubbing the horses down until you are ready to leave.’
‘Very well, you and Cook will do.’
Eve disappeared the way she had come and was back in minutes, with Cook beside her.
‘For reasons that we won’t go into at the minute, we shall be closing the house and Mrs King will be coming to live with me,’ the old woman told them without preamble.
Eve gasped with dismay and opened her mouth to speak, but the old lady got in before her. ‘However, my maid will be getting married shortly and will be leaving me, so, Eve, I am happy to offer you her position. There will also be a job for your husband as the horse and carriage will be coming with your mistress, and I will require a groom. And Cook—’
Here the cook held her hand up and smiled sadly. ‘You have no need to worry about me, Mrs King,’ she assured her. ‘I’ve been wantin’ to retire fer some time now, but didn’t like to leave the young mistress ’ere.’ She smiled fondly at Opal before going on, ‘Me daughter’s little ’uns are a bit older now an’ she’d like me to go an’ live wi’ her an’ look after ’em so she can go to work, so I reckon I’ll do that, but thank yer kindly fer the offer, ma’am.’
‘And what about your husband, Eve?’ Mrs King asked, after nodding at the cook. ‘Do you think he will be happy with my offer?’
The Winter Promise Page 34
