by Nancy Carson
‘So when do you think you will be able to take him home?’
‘Oh, tomorrow if all goes according to plan. The doctor is trying to arrange for a litter and two men to carry him to and from the train and see him safely home. At least when he’s home I won’t have to worry about the children. I imagine they’re fretting already with neither of us there, and their not knowing how their father is.’
‘How are you going to cope with two children and a husband who will be a cripple for the rest of his days?’ Arthur asked, concern evident in his face.
‘I haven’t paid it too much thought, Mr Goodrich. I daren’t think about it too much yet. One of the officers of the railway called in earlier today. He said there might be some compensation payable, but he was at pains to stress it was only a possibility. A lot depends on the outcome of the inquest, who was at fault. All the same, money will be tight.’
‘An inquest was held yesterday, Mrs Dempster, but was adjourned till next week. No doubt you heard. Some of the passengers weren’t so lucky, you know. Some sustained even more terrifying injuries.’
‘Maybe they were luckier. At least in death they’re not suffering.’
‘But I’m sure their relatives are suffering their loss.’
‘Oh, yes …’
‘I’d appreciate it if you would allow me to call and see your husband from time to time, Mrs Dempster.’
‘I’d be very pleased if you would.’
‘Perhaps I could make a note of your address …’ She told him what it was and he wrote it in his notebook. ‘As I mentioned yesterday, your husband was very kind to me on one particular occasion.’
‘I’m intrigued as to what that was all about, Mr Goodrich.’
He told her, and they both enjoyed the tale.
‘I remember him mentioning it. Wasn’t it about a year ago?’
‘Nearly, but not quite.’
‘Well, it was fateful that you happened upon him so quickly the night of the accident. If he’d lain trapped for very long he might not have survived at all.’
‘That’s possible, I suppose.’ Arthur took his watch from his fob and glanced at it. ‘I’d better go, Mrs Dempster. Thank you for letting me see your husband.’
‘Thank you for coming. I shall look forward to seeing you at some time in the not too distant future.’
‘Rely on it.’ He went to the door and opened it.
‘Oh, and Mr Goodrich …’ He turned round to catch a glimpse of those expressive eyes again. ‘Please give my sincere thanks and best wishes to the young lady who looked after Dickie with you … You two are engaged, I think you said, unless I dreamed it.’
‘Yes …’ He nodded. ‘Thank you. I’ll tell her …’
As Arthur headed for the Piddocks’ cottage on his way back home, he pondered Mrs Dempster. He was full of admiration for her. There was something more genteel about her than the usual women from the working classes. In many ways she reminded him of Lucy, her innate reserve, her quiet demeanour. Maybe Dickie Dempster had perceived the similarity as well, and that was the yeast which had fermented his interest in Lucy in the first place. It certainly made some sense.
Lucy answered the door to him and asked him in. Hannah was evidently delighted to see him, and said how sorry she was that his father had passed away. Haden, too, seemed pleased to see him, and shook his hand firmly. Yet there was a strained atmosphere in that house which was normally so pleasant.
‘What dost think of all this business, Arthur?’ Haden asked, before Arthur had had chance to sit down.
‘A terrible tragedy, Mr Piddock. So much loss of life, so much hurt and suffering.’
‘Aye, it’s a tragedy and no mistake, but I mean the fact as this bastard Dickie Dempster has turned out to be a married man and he’s bin leading me daughter astray. Why, if he wor’ lying unconscious with ne’er a right leg I’d goo and knock his block off. You know, I’ve a good mind to see his missus when I goo up the Whimsey after, and tell her what he was up to.’
‘But it wouldn’t solve anything, Mr Piddock.’
‘It’d gi’ me some satisfaction, though. I never liked him.’ Haden grimaced. ‘There was summat about him as I dai’ like.’
‘But there’s his poor, long suffering wife to think about,’ Arthur replied, anxious to protect the poor woman. ‘Why make her more unhappy than she already is? She’s no idea what Dickie was up to, and I must confess she seems a very decent young woman. She reminds me of Lucy and I feel very sorry for her. She’s got enough on her plate as it is.’
‘He’s right, Haden,’ Hannah said, sewing a button on a shirt as she sat. ‘The poor wench must be at her wits’ end already. If she’s innocent of everything, why mek her life more of a misery for summat as she knew nothing about?’
‘What do you say, our Luce?’ Haden asked.
‘I agree with Arthur. We’ve already talked about it. No good will come of raking up muck with Mrs Dempster.’ She sighed deeply. ‘Anyway, how is he?’
‘He regained consciousness for a few minutes, she reckons, but he didn’t or couldn’t speak. Then he drifted back into sleep. His fever’s no worse, so maybe he’s on the mend. Although it’ll take months, according to the doctor what went to see him.’
‘Be glad yo’ ai’ got all that to contend with, our wench,’ Haden said.
‘Oh, and she’s taking him home tomorrow. The doctor’s arranging for a litter and two men. I daresay they’ll get a hansom in Wolverhampton to carry him from the station to where he lives.’
Lucy began weeping at the news and Haden put a fatherly arm around her to comfort her. ‘That’s it,’ she whimpered. ‘I’ve seen the last of Dickie. I’ll never see him again.’
‘I shouldn’t think you’ll want to,’ Hannah said.
‘I shall go and see him from time to time, Lucy.’
‘But, Arthur, how can you?’ Lucy asked. ‘You’ll be going back to Bristol in a few days.’
‘Yes, tomorrow. But I’ve got to come back for the inquest when it’s resumed next week, since I’m a witness. Who knows how many weeks that’s likely to go on? I’ll have the chance to visit Dickie Dempster, have no fear.’
Chapter 21
Arthur returned to Bristol with Dorinda the next day. They bade his mother farewell and he told her he would see her again Tuesday night when he came back to attend the adjourned inquest on Wednesday. Dinah was tearful, but grieving more over Jeremiah than over Arthur’s leaving. They then went to the workshop to say goodbye to Talbot and Moses.
‘I, er … I want you to think about coming back to work with me, Arthur,’ Talbot said just as they were about to leave. ‘Give it some thought over the next few days and we’ll talk about it more when I see you next week.’
‘I’m happy where I am, Talbot,’ Arthur replied, conscious of the time and that their train was due in a few minutes. ‘Besides, I have Dorinda to think about.’
Talbot looked at Dorinda admiringly. He could see where the attraction lay. ‘Well, who’s to say as she can’t come with you?’
Dorinda looked at Arthur for his reply, which she thought might indicate more clearly his intentions towards her. Perceiving that he was reluctant to make any comment, however, she decided to give the answer he might have given had she not been there. ‘I think you are presuming too much, Talbot,’ she said bluntly. ‘Moving from Bristol to be up here with Arthur would mean nothing less than marriage. So far he hasn’t proposed it, and neither would I expect him to so soon into our courtship. Neither am I sure that I could accept him anyway … yet at any rate.’
Arthur stood and listened impassively. She had got it about right.
‘Then can you spare him to be away from you for weeks on end?’
‘Oh, for a week at a time, yes, I suppose so. That would be no great hardship. It’s not as if he would be going to sea for months or even years on end.’ She thought of Philip and his going away, and his returning with a Maltese wife. ‘So long as he can return to Bristol for a S
aturday and Sunday … We would be glad to put him up at our house Saturday nights.’
‘I’m thinking in terms of a partnership, Arthur,’ Talbot went on, not disheartened by Dorinda’s response. ‘I know you always had a raw deal with Father, and I mean to make amends. Together, we could build up the business, we could look at other aspects of stonemasonry that might help us expand. Even church restoration, as and when it’s called for. There’s a big project underway at Worcester cathedral, folk tell me. I know you enjoy that sort of work, Arthur, and you have some valuable experience. And as for remuneration … well, we would be equal partners.’
Arthur glanced first at Dorinda, then at Talbot. ‘I told you, I’m quite content in Bristol.’
‘But you’re not a partner in the business there, our Arthur. And stone is stone, whether you’re in Bristol or Brierley Hill.’
‘He’ll think about it, won’t you, Arthur?’ Dorinda said, perceiving the social advantages and respectability that would be afforded her man as a partner in a prosperous family business. Besides, if Talbot and Arthur could set their own wages, they could be quite well off. ‘We’ll discuss it, Talbot, and Arthur can let you know next week.’
So, on the train journey to Bristol, Dorinda and Arthur discussed Talbot’s proposal.
‘Just think,’ she said. ‘You could earn much more money than you are now. As gaffer of your own business, you could pay yourself what you want.’
‘So long as the work’s there to pay for it,’ he countered rationally.
‘Then there’s all the social esteem that goes along with such a position. You could join the township commissioners, become a bigwig in local society, hobnobbing with all the dignitaries and other important people. You could become an important person yourself in the community, have your own pew in church, maybe even become a church warden …’ As his attractive young wife she would also come in for some socialising and admiration.
‘I don’t think that’s necessarily the life for me, Dorinda. I’m a man of simple pleasures.’
‘You’re a stick-in-the-mud,’ she said impatiently. ‘You lack imagination, Arthur. And you’re stubborn. Can’t you see the advantages in going along with it? I’ve a good mind to recommend our Cyril to Talbot. He’d jump at the chance of being his partner. But then he always was enterprising, even if he is a bit dense.’
‘But what about you?’ Arthur asked. ‘We wouldn’t be able to see each other so often.’
‘Well, we’d have to grin and bear it, but I’m sure the sacrifice would be worth it in long run. Especially if we do decide to … to get married, that is. In any case, those times you couldn’t come to Bedminster, I could come and stay with you and your mother, or even Magnolia and Talbot, in Brierley Hill. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. My mother and father wouldn’t mind, as long as somebody was there to chaperone us. Brierley Hill’s no worse than Bedminster, believe me, and a bed’s a bed, wherever it may be situated.’
‘I’ll sleep on it …’
‘Oh, very funny. I want you to think very seriously about this, Arthur. It’s for your own good that you should accept your brother’s very generous offer.’
Miriam Watson, on her way home from work on the Friday, called to see Lucy. The rumour mill had been grinding away relentlessly and there was plenty of speculation as to her affair with the railway guard who had been critically injured in the crash, and Miriam wanted to seek out the truth so that she could put the gossipmongers out of business.
‘Let’s go outside into the sunshine,’ Lucy suggested when Miriam had exchanged pleasantries with Hannah. ‘We can talk out there.’
‘I’ll bring you out a mug of tea apiece,’ Hannah said, acknowledging Lucy’s wish for privacy in discussing her lost love with her close friend, and set about boiling the kettle while she cooked Haden’s dinner.
So the two girls went outside, sat on the hard front step of the cottage and soaked up the late afternoon sun. They spoke in lowered tones so as not to be overheard.
‘So is it true that this Dickie Dempster’s married?’ Miriam asked, getting straight to the point.
‘Yes, he’s married,’ Lucy responded resignedly. ‘I could have died when this woman came in to the room where he was lying hurt, and announced she was his wife. I could scarcely believe it.’
‘I think it’s terrible as the poor chap was hurt so bad,’ Miriam said. ‘I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. But when I think how he pulled the wool over your eyes, I could kill him.’
‘Oh, my father would’ve killed him anyway.’
‘Nobody would’ve known he was wed but for the accident, would they, Luce? Did you have no inkling at all as he was married?’
‘No. None. I trusted him, blind fool that I was. I trusted him to be honourable.’
‘So how do you feel about him now?’
Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t know how I feel, and that’s the truth, Miriam. I’m just numb. When we started courting, as you know, I was as happy as a pig with a big potato. He was perfect for me, I thought, and I loved him … and he loved me – I know he loved me. I honestly believed it was just a matter of time before we’d get wed. But lately I started having doubts about him. Not that he was married already, but that he was getting tired of me, and it worried me – I didn’t want to lose him, ’cause I knew it would break my heart if I did.’ Lucy spoke in a whisper so as her mother shouldn’t hear. ‘Maybe I’d been too easy for him after all. I suppose I was no challenge once I’d let him have his way, whenever he wanted it …’
‘I told you, it’s always that way with men.’
‘Oh, I know you did, Miriam, but to me, lying with him was always the best part of our courting.’
‘It’s generally the best part of anybody’s. It’s what courting’s for.’
‘Well, when we went on that trip on Monday, I went into the cathedral in Worcester and prayed. Well, you know I’m not normally the praying kind, Miriam … Dickie had a few drinks with Moses. Anyway, to come back home they’d split the train into two, and Dickie said they’d asked him to work, so he came back in the guards’ van of the first train. Now, after the inquest, I’m not so sure as it wasn’t all a tale. One of the witnesses said as how there was a dozen folk in the guards’ van and they was having a party. To me, a party means drink.’
‘I daresay they’ll get to the bottom of it, Luce,’ Miriam said.
‘But, you see, it all adds up. Everything that happened up till the time of the accident tells me something. Knowing what I know now, I’m beginning to see what he was like. If they was having a party in the guards’ van on the way back, and Dickie was intent on going to it, it was easy for him to lie to me about it and say he was working. And if he could lie about something as petty as that, he could lie about anything.’
Miriam tutted appropriately, indignant at what she was hearing.
‘I’m heartbroken over losing him, you know, Miriam, but I’m starting to get angry as well, because he used me as nothing more than a rubbing rag, as somebody just to …’ She began to cry. It was so easy to cry. The slightest thing, the least reminder of Dickie and how he had treated her, quickly brought on tears. ‘I’m starting to ask myself whether I meant anything to him at all …’
‘Oh, Luce …’ Miriam turned to Lucy and held her hands consolingly. ‘What can I say? I’m so sorry …’
‘But there’s worse, Miriam.’
‘Worse?’ Miriam regarded Lucy with alarm and apprehension.
‘Can you keep a secret?’
‘If you don’t think I can, then don’t tell me nothing else.’
‘I’m with child,’ Lucy admitted. ‘I’m having his child.’
‘Oh, Lord above! Oh, Lucy … Have you told anybody yet? Does Dickie know?’
‘I was going to tell him Wednesday night … I haven’t told anybody else. So don’t you, Miriam.’
‘Oh, I won’t, I swear … I did try and warn you off him, Lucy. There was summat about him as I just couldn’t take to. He
was too full of himself. He was handsome and he knew it. I wonder how many other wenches have been took in by him? How many other’s he’s babbied.’
‘I don’t know … Maybe quite a few. There was somebody called Myrtle … He mentioned her once or twice, told me she was after him all the time, even after he’d given her up.’
‘But that might have been a tale as well, just to make you jealous,’ Miriam suggested.
‘I hadn’t thought about that.’
‘Anyway, for the sake of Dickie Dempster you lost the best chap any wench could want – Arthur.’
Lucy sighed and wiped her tears. ‘I know … It’s stupid now I think of it, but I wouldn’t commit myself to Arthur because I thought he wasn’t handsome enough, because he always seemed a bit of twit. But, you know, Miriam, he’s got two legs, two arms, two eyes, two ears, a nose, ten fingers, ten toes and a heart of gold. Dickie hasn’t. Not now …’
‘In a way,’ Miriam said, unsure of the ground she was treading, ‘It might be a blessing in disguise, Dickie turning out to be married.’
‘Oh? How do you work that out?’
‘’Cause I can’t imagine you wanting him anyway with a leg missing.’
Lucy sighed ponderously. ‘I have thought about that, Miriam … But I can’t admit to myself that I could be so shallow.’
‘But if you do start to admit it to yourself – ’cause you know what you was like before … even Arthur wasn’t perfect enough for you – it’d prove that you didn’t really love him anyway. I mean, look at your Jane … Moses has only got one leg and yet she loves him to bits. She wouldn’t look at another man, would she? That tells me something about real love …’
