by Val Wood
‘Robin?’ she said as she turned to leave. ‘Rose is not much more than a child. I leave her in your care. I trust you!’
He swallowed. He knew exactly what she meant. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘You can.’
Not much more than a child, she thought as she hurried towards Mr Sampson’s lodgings. Yet older by far than I was when Alan took me. She shuddered at the memory. Then she smiled. It wouldn’t be like that for Rose.
Mr Sampson’s landlady took Annie upstairs to his room where she found him in bed, his face white beneath his nightcap and his lips blue. His blue-veined hands were outside the coverlet and she noticed for the first time the dark spots of age.
‘Thank goodness you’re back, Annie,’ he wheezed. ‘Don’t let those two take over will you? They’ll ruin us. How’s Henry?’ he asked. ‘And did you find the young man?’
‘I won’t let them take over if you give me the authority, Mr Sampson. I did tell a little white lie,’ she smiled. ‘I told them that Robin Deane was to be employed as the manager so that you could take things easier, and I’m afraid they went off in a huff. And Henry is fine, and Robin is at the shop now; I’ll bring them to see you tomorrow, shall I? Oh, yes, and Robin is to be married – to Rose – he’s loved her since they were children. I’ve brought her with me and she’ll stay with me until they’re married; if that’s all right with you?’
He nodded in agreement. ‘Well, well. You have been busy.’ He gave a weak smile and she thought that he was tiring. ‘You look different, Annie. Has anything else happened? You seem more serene somehow, and yet, are you sad? Did it upset you going back to that place?’
‘Just a little.’ She patted his hand. She wouldn’t tell him about Matt yet. That would keep until he was feeling better.
‘Annie!’ He tried to ease himself higher onto the pillow, but he winced and slid down again. ‘If anything should happen to me, go straight away to Marcus Blythe, you remember him, don’t you? He knows what to do.’
‘Come now, nothing is going to happen to you, Aaron. You’ve just been overdoing things. You’ll soon be out and about.’
‘No, no. We must be realistic, my dear. It was quite a turn I had. I’d been lifting a roll of cloth down from the shelf and it brought on such a terrible pain. Mrs Cook sent for the doctor straight away and he brought me home in his own carriage, he was very good. But he said I must rest or it would be all up with me. Still,’ he added with a sigh. ‘I can rest easy now that you’re back and you’ve got Mr Deane to help you.’
She didn’t light a candle as she entered the shop but made her way in the darkness to the stairs. There was no sound from above but she could smell smoke, Robin or Rose must have lit the fire, the room had been cold when they had first arrived back.
She opened the door cautiously, and then gave a small cough, anxious that she shouldn’t appear to be prying on them. Henry was fast asleep in his cot and her bed lay smooth and unruffled. The fire was flickering steadily and already the room was warm and comforting.
Rose sat in a chair by the fire, her body perfectly still, her head resting against her shoulder and her eyes closed. How beautiful she is, Annie thought. The firelight flickered sending golden reflections to her dark hair and lighting up her face. Robin was sitting on the floor close by her feet with his head in her lap and her hand resting on his hair.
Annie patted Robin’s cheek gently and he woke with a start. ‘Come on,’ she whispered. ‘Off you go to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow.’
‘I must have just dropped off,’ he croaked. ‘We were talking, and,’ he looked at Rose just slowly opening her eyes. ‘Isn’t she lovely, Annie?’ he said huskily. ‘I can’t believe how lucky I am, that somebody like Rose would have a peazan like me.’
‘She knows a good man when she sees one, Robin.’ Annie swallowed a tear. ‘She knows that one day you’ll make her very proud.’
Robin kissed Annie goodbye before leaving for his lodgings. ‘I’ll be here at eight o’clock, on the stroke. Thank you Annie for all tha’s done, I’ll never forget it.’
He turned to Rose, her eyes glazed with sleep, and took her hand and kissed it, holding it ardently against his lips. Then he put his arms around her and held her close, pressing his cheek close to hers.
Annie let the tears run unchecked down her cheeks as she watched them in their innocence proclaim their love. Yes, Robin, you are lucky. She drew in a deep sobbing breath. You both are.
They spent the next day rearranging the shelves and putting back the rolls of cloth that the Mortimers had taken down. Annie put back the window display, this time with yellow and gold and green to reflect the summertime. She thought of the Wolds as she draped the fabric, of the vast greenness of the meadowland, the yellow gorse and the golden sun.
She watched as Rose handed up the rolls of muslins to Robin who was perched on a pair of steps. He’d taken off his jacket and was wearing only his shirt and breeches and she thought that one way or another they would have to get him some new clothes.
Mr Sampson obviously had the same thought, when on the same evening, Annie took them all to meet him. Rose stayed at the door and gave him a curtsey, but Robin went up to the old man’s bed and shook him gently by the hand and told him how grateful he was.
‘I’ve brought a supply of cloth with me, sir. Woollen stuff and muslins, all manufactured in the West Riding, and you can have it gladly to sell in the shop,’ he said, eager to please. ‘I can never get hold of cloth from other parts, not having the contacts, but I hear there’s good fabric coming from Manchester and the western counties. We have no need to rely on foreign goods and pay the high duty, especially just now when it’s so difficult to bring in.’
Aaron Sampson smiled at his enthusiasm. ‘You’ll do, Mr Deane. I can see we’ll make a fortune with you to look after our interests.’ He waved a finger towards Annie and Henry. ‘Bring the boy here that I might speak with him, and then I must ask you to excuse me, I’m very tired.’
Robin bowed and left the room and Annie took Henry to the bedside. Mr Sampson spoke quietly to him, asking him if he had enjoyed the outing and the coach ride and Annie held her breath in case Henry should mention meeting his father. But the boy became shy and tongue-tied at seeing the old man in bed, looking unfamiliar out of his usual old-fashioned frock-coat and wig, and declined to talk.
‘Annie.’ Mr Sampson tried to take a deep breath, his words were slow and halting. ‘Mr Deane is a fine young man.’ He nodded and closed his eyes as if the effort of speaking was too much for him. ‘But you must see that he gets a more suitable set of clothes.’
He opened his eyes and she saw that they were quite merry. ‘We can’t have our manager dressed like a country labourer, can we? Find some good cloth and send him off to the tailor, and don’t let the customers see him until he’s properly dressed. He’ll need a suit of clothes for the shop and for one for outdoors; we can’t have him looking shabby, not even when he’s about his personal business, it just won’t do.’
Robin chose a dark-green fine wool cloth for his coat, and buff coloured waistcoat and breeches for his work in the shop, with a linen shirt and neckcloth, white cotton stockings and black buckled shoes.
‘I don’t want silk coats, Annie, that’s not my style. Nor embroidered frippery. Not yet – maybe one day.’ He’d looked in the mirror when he was dressed and smiled at her standing behind him. He had long since abandoned his queue and his hair was long on his shoulders. ‘Is it me?’ he asked. ‘Pinch me so I can know if I’m dreaming.’
Obligingly she did. ‘Ow,’ he complained. ‘No. I’m not.’
For his other set of clothes he had chosen a plain black coat and grey breeches but had allowed himself the extravagance of a red wool waistcoat and this they decided was what he should be married in.
Rose had brought three other dresses with her, all Sunday clothes and perfectly good, but Annie decided that if Robin was going to be dressed in new clothes then Rose should be too and that she would pay f
or the fabric out of her own money as a present. After much deliberation Rose chose a dark blue muslin, shot with paler blue flowered stripes. A flounced white cotton petticoat edged with lace was to be worn beneath it and the bodice was to be pleated.
‘I can make it myself,’ she said. ‘I have a neat hand. Lily was the cook in the house, but I was the seamstress.’
Rose asked Annie to be witness and Robin said he would like to ask Mr Sampson also if he was well enough. He was delighted to be asked and said he was sure he would be up and about in time, but just in case he wasn’t they asked Mrs Cook as well. Mr Sampson also said they could shut the shop for the morning whilst they went to the ceremony at the nearby ancient church of St Denys in Walmgate.
The day before the ceremony a hired chaise drew up outside the shop and Mr Sutcliff, hobbling painfully, and accompanied by Joan, climbed out.
‘It might be ’onny marriage my daughters make,’ he said, sitting down gratefully as Robin brought him a chair. ‘And when we got your letter telling us the day, we decided to come.’
Rose was overjoyed to have her family with her and accompanied them to Robin’s lodgings to ask if they had two more rooms.
‘Stay the night with your sister, Rose, and hear all the news from home,’ Annie said. ‘Ask her about Lily, and take your gown and let her help you dress in the morning; she’d like to share your joy, I’m sure of it. I’ll call for Mr Sampson and bring him along with me.’
And then I can sleep alone in my bed, but for Henry, she thought, and think of my wedding day and how different it was from how yours will be, which will be full of hope and expectation.
When she called for Mr Sampson at ten o’clock the next day, he was dressed and waiting but extremely unsteady. She decided that he couldn’t walk all the way to Walmgate and so went out into the street to look for a boy to send for a sedan chair.
The wedding party was waiting for them outside Robin’s lodgings and Mrs Cook came hurrying up a minute later.
‘What do you think, Annie,’ Robin said gleefully. ‘Mr Sutcliff has booked us a breakfast at the Bay Horse. We can have a private room until one o’clock.’
‘In that case,’ Mr Sampson put his head out of the chair. ‘Perhaps I can buy the ale? I would like to make a contribution.’
Robin took Rose’s arm on one side and her father, leaning more than assisting her, took the other. Annie, and Henry, who was wearing a new pair of pantaloons and short jacket, Mrs Cook and Joan, brought up the rear while Mr Sampson was whisked away in front of them.
After the simple ceremony inside St Denys’s church, they merrily made their way to the Bay Horse, this time Mr Sutcliff also calling for a chair. The landlord had prepared a splendid repast of cold meats, including pork and tongue and sweetbreads, a crusty raised pie and a selection of pickles and chutneys. There was plum cake and jelly and sweet apple tart.
Annie noticed that Mr Sampson only picked at his food and once or twice patted his chest. She asked the landlord to bring him a brandy which she gave to him and watched anxiously as he sipped it slowly.
‘Shall I call for a chair, Mr Sampson? Would you like to go home?’
‘I think that perhaps I would,’ he said wearily. ‘I don’t want to break up the festivities, but I am very tired.’
She said that she would go with him but he became most distressed at the suggestion and insisted that she should stay. In order to pacify him she said that she would, but looked on worriedly as he tottered unsteadily towards the door.
She called the boy. ‘Take him home as fast as you can and then go and ask the doctor to call on him.’ She gave him the address and a coin and told him to come back when he had given the message and she would give him extra.
When the festivities broke up at one o’clock, Joan said she would take Henry for a walk to the park, Mr Sutcliff went back to the lodgings for a rest and the others walked back to the shop. It was fortunate that it was a quiet day with not too many customers for they were all feeling the effect of the food and drink.
‘Why don’t you and Rose go up to my room and put your feet up for half an hour?’ Annie said to Robin. ‘Mrs Cook and I can manage and if we get busy I’ll call you.’
Robin nonchalantly agreed and escorted a blushing Rose upstairs.
‘Ah,’ said Mrs Cook watching them go. ‘Bless ’em.’ Then she sighed. ‘Pity that bliss doesn’t last, isn’t it?’
Joan brought Henry back and at eight o’clock Annie locked up the shop and Robin and Rose prepared to go back to Robin’s lodgings.
‘Why don’t the two of you stay the night here?’ Annie suggested. ‘Henry and I can share with Joan – you wouldn’t mind, Joan? I dearly want to talk to you about Lily and Sergeant – er, Mr Collins.’ She deemed that the newly-wedded pair might be more at ease in the privacy of the quiet room above the shop, rather than in the room sandwiched between those of Rose’s father and sister in the lodging house.
‘Oh, yes please, Annie,’ Rose seemed overcome with relief. ‘It’s so cosy and warm in your room.’
‘Aye,’ Robin quickly agreed. ‘And I’ll make an early start in ’morning seeing as I’ve had time off today.’
Annie settled Henry into the bed which they would share with Joan and Joan had started to tell her how things were working out with Stuart Collins.
‘Tha’d hardly know him, Annie, he’s grown a beard and his hair is long, he looks quite different; and he’s been such a help to fayther, lifting things and all that, that I think fayther’s quite accepted him. But Mr Collins won’t help inside, not when visitors come, he says he’ll stay out at ’back where he can’t be seen, just in case. And he says if ’soldiers come, then we have to warn him and he’ll go off into ’woods for a few days. He doesn’t want any of us to get into trouble.’
Annie pursed her lips and thought sadly of the life he had now chosen, to be forever watchful or else face the terrible consequences.
‘Mrs Hope! Mrs Hope!’ An urgent knocking disturbed them. The mistress of the house was at the door. ‘Mr Deane is downstairs, he’s got a message for thee.’
‘It can only be from Mr Sampson,’ Annie said, reaching for her shawl. ‘Will you watch Henry for me, Joan? I’ll try not to be long.’
Robin was waiting outside with Charlie. ‘A boy came from Mr Sampson’s lodgings. He said for you to go straight away. I’ll come with you,’ he said, taking her arm, ‘it’s getting dark.’
‘There’s no need,’ she claimed. ‘I’m used to making my own way. Go on back to Rose.’
‘I’ll walk part of ’way with you then,’ still he persisted. ‘I was just about to take Charlie for a walk when ’message came. Rose is just busy with a few things.’
She said nothing and he walked by her side until they came to Mr Sampson’s lodging house. The doctor’s chaise was outside. ‘Thank you, Robin. Now go,’ she said, ‘back to Rose; she’ll be waiting.’ She didn’t want him to wait in case there was bad news. No sense in spoiling their wedding day.
He looked down at the ground and then scraped the side of his shoe in the dust. ‘Fact is, she’s a bit shy is Rose, that’s why I was coming out to walk Charlie, so’s she could prepare herself. And,’ he swallowed. ‘I’ve not been with a woman afore, Annie, so I’m just a bit afeard missen.’
She smiled gently and patted his cheek. ‘Just hold her close in your arms, Robin, and everything will be all right. You have my word on it.’
‘He’s sinking fast,’ the doctor said when she came to the small stuffy room. The curtains were drawn tight and there was just one oil lamp burning, and a low fire. ‘I told him he must stay in bed or risk another attack, but he didn’t listen. I can do no more for him I fear. He’ll go by midnight.’
‘I’ll stay and keep watch.’ Annie spoke from between clenched teeth. She felt fear at the passing of someone she was fond of and didn’t at all care for the death-watch vigil; yet she felt that the old man deserved a friend by his side as he drew near to his eventide.
> ‘Should we send for his sister?’ the landlady whispered after the doctor had gone, ‘though poor old fellow never wanted her up here.’
Annie shook her head. ‘No, it’s too late to disturb her, she’ll be in her bed and it might well be too late by the time she gets here. We’ll tell her in the morning. That’ll be soon enough.’
The woman nodded meaningfully. ‘Aye, and no sense in disturbing his spirit. It’s peace he’s after now, not strife.’
She brought Annie a cup of warm chocolate and built up the fire so that she might be comfortable, and she sat quietly reflecting and wondering what the morning would bring. A niggling worry scurried about her mind as she felt the responsibility weighing upon her of Robin and Rose, who she had brought to this city with the promise of work and a future together, promises which now might come to naught at Aaron Sampson’s demise.
A sound of a sigh, the exhalation of a last breath woke her and a swift glance at the slight form in the bed told her that he was gone from this world into the next. His eyes were closed and his hands folded together as if in a last prayer. There was no pain in his face, no sign of suffering and she felt no sadness for him for he looked peaceful – only sorrow for herself that she had lost a kind and compassionate friend.
36
She sent a runner with a letter for Mrs Mortimer at eight o’clock, and as the clock struck nine that lady arrived on the doorstep in a complete set of mourning clothes. Rose and Annie had quickly stitched black lace bands onto their gowns and wore black ribbons in their hair, and Robin hurried to the tailors for a black ready-made waistcoat.
Mrs Mortimer, however, was in full mourning dress of black bombasine with a black silk crepe hat and gloves. She lifted her veil and wiped her eye on seeing Annie.
‘My poor brother, and to go alone. Not a soul to stand by him in his final dark hours.’
Annie was quick to placate. ‘Oh, no, Mrs Mortimer. Don’t distress yourself on that account. I stayed by his side. He was very peaceful.’
‘You stayed by his side?’ Mrs Mortimer’s powdered face beneath her veil creased with anger. ‘You who are of no kin to him – though I know that you had aspirations of being so. Well your plans are scotched now and no mistake. I should have been sent for – I or my son. Arrangements have to be made. A funeral service. And plans for the shop. You must close today out of respect.’
