The Orphans of Ardwick

by Emma Hornby

  She wanted it to. Aye, she did. And she’d do all in her power to try and make it happen.

  The following morning, Pip awoke later than usual to an empty room. The sun was already high above the rooftops and she dressed hurriedly, surprised no one had roused her. What time was it? Where was Miss Josephine?

  Despite the long rest, she felt anything but refreshed. Yesterday and all that came with it – the crushing turmoil, the emotion – had robbed her of all energy. She felt exhausted, as if she hadn’t closed her eyes in weeks.

  After leaving Philip the previous evening, she’d crept upstairs to the nursery. She’d found the master sitting beside the bed and Lucy was sleeping peacefully. The sight of her beautiful face, cheeks holding their usual healthy pink hue, the streaming dark hair with its familiar halo of bouncy curls stark against the white pillowslip, had stroked her heart in a healing touch. She knew then the girl would be well, that she’d recover from her ordeal. That, thank the good Lord, she wasn’t going to lose her. When Albert beckoned her across, she’d obeyed, head bowed. Dropping to her knees on the floor by Lucy’s side and clasping her hands, she’d asked him shyly, ‘May I? To thank Him, like, for keeping her safe?’

  He’d nodded. Closing her eyes, she’d prayed for several minutes. When she opened them again, she’d found the master watching her, his own eyes bright with tears. Hot ones immediately sprang to hers.

  ‘I believe I sensed … something, something about you, shortly after we met,’ he’d whispered.

  The day in the study when she’d received her Christmas box from him … Remembrance had her nodding thoughtfully. For reasons she couldn’t fathom at the time, he’d given her that day the queerest stare – similar to Cook’s when viewing her properly, clean from the bathing. They were looks of familiarity, she knew now. They had seen something in her they recognised, but didn’t know what. Or rather, they had seen someone: Lydia. Mam.

  ‘Your smile, it was like stepping into the past. Naturally, at the time, I dismissed it as fanciful thinking, never ever imagined … We owe you, lass,’ he’d added with great sincerity. ‘Somehow, we’ll make this right.’

  When Pip had left Lucy and headed downstairs, Cook’s emotion upon seeing her again had been far more intense. Simon and Mack had taken themselves early to bed, Tabby had informed her, barely able to suppress her astonishment at what she clearly knew now regarding Pip’s identity, before she and Cally made themselves scarce. Alone with Cook, Pip had sidled to her side.

  Having had more time to think on it, the woman’s joy had turned bittersweet. Gaining a granddaughter had come with a heavy price – the discovery that she’d lost her only child. Pip wished she could take the woman’s pain away. But the truth was out; there was no biting it back, whether she wanted to or not.

  ‘All this time … I thought I were seeing in you what my desperate heart wanted to. You are my Lydia as a lass all over.’ Eyes glazed from the master’s brandy, she’d stared into space. Pip had reached for her hand and, though she appeared in a world of her own, Cook had squeezed back. They had sat like that for a time, neither speaking, locked in their own thoughts. It would take the tortured woman longer than any of them, Pip knew, to come to terms with this.

  Now, when she entered the kitchen, Simon sprang to his feet. His face was alive with shock and excitement. She smiled softly. He’d heard, then. One of the servants must have filled him in this morning on the incredible news.

  ‘I would have told you, lad. Honest I would. Only my mind were all of a jumble. Discovering summat like that … I couldn’t get to grips with it myself—’

  ‘All this time I’ve been hobnobbing it with the gentry and had no clue.’ His amazed grin was infectious; she pushed him playfully. ‘’Ere, you’ll not grow too good for the likes of us commoners, now, will thee?’

  ‘Are we to address thee as Miss Pip, like, now?’ added Tabby.

  ‘Eeh, the pair of you – don’t talk daft!’ Yet Pip’s smile wavered when she realised they hadn’t spoken as jestingly as she’d assumed. Her heart dipped. ‘Nowt changes with this. I’m still who I’ve allus been: me, Pip. Please don’t imagine a single thing otherwise.’ Looking around, she frowned. ‘Where’s Cook?’ ‘Granny’ didn’t come naturally to her mind. Would it ever? ‘Miss Josephine; she didn’t waken me and wasn’t in her room just now.’

  ‘Mebbe she reckoned the rest would do thee good, what with everything yesterday. They’re up with the master talking, like.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Slowly, Simon’s eyes widened. He dragged a hand across his mouth. ‘You ain’t heard, have you?’

  ‘Heard what? What’s going on?’

  Drawing her aside, he could barely contain his fervour. ‘Mrs Goldthorpe passed through Bracken House’s door for the last time early today. She’s gone, Pip.’ He nodded rapidly when she simply gazed back. ‘Apparently, even Miss Lucy weren’t upset to see the back of her, screamed blue murder to Mr Philip to take her mother away when he brought her to the lass’s room to say goodbye. And afterwards, when the carriage had driven her away, he himself and the master too appeared nowt but relieved to be rid.’

  ‘I don’t … Where’s she gone, lad?’

  ‘Her husband’s had her committed to a private asylum.’

  She staggered. For a full minute, she gawped at Simon.

  ‘Father was right. The time has come.’ The snippet of last night’s conversation ran through her mind. She recalled the master’s parting words to his son following Caroline’s attack on her with the scissors: ‘See me in the study once you have her settled. We need to talk …’ Had he warned Philip then that further trouble from his daughter-in-law would require them to take drastic action? Had the incident in the Green proven she was no longer herself mentally, that the time to act had come? Lord above …

  ‘It’s our doing, yours and mine, why her brain’s turned,’ she finally croaked. Guilt overwhelmed her. What have we done? God forgive us! And yet, and yet … Appalled at herself as she was, thoughts of Caroline gone for good brought a stirring of relief.

  ‘The bitch has got not nearly as much as she deserves. Even were the truth to come out now, she’d escape the hangman’s noose on t’ grounds of insanity.’

  ‘But lad—’

  ‘Her mental breakdown, I reckon it would only have been a matter of time, regardless. She can’t have been of sound mind afore our tricks – she killed a woman, for Christ’s sake. That ain’t normal behaviour. It ain’t.’

  Not only Hardman. The secret love child, too … ‘Mr Philip, he knows what we’ve been about,’ Pip blurted. ‘I told him all, last night.’

  Simon blanched. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said not to be concerned, that it were over.’

  ‘Then it sounds like he’s in agreement: that woman’s head were warped afore we even got to it. She needs the right care and treatment, the like of which only an asylum can give. He couldn’t of risked her hurting Lucy again, could he? Or attempting a second shot at thee. God only knows what her reaction would of been had she discovered you’re his child. Nay. Nay. She had to be committed to a secure institution for all of our sakes, her own included.’

  Numbness chased away a response, until: ‘She’s really gone, lad?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘She brought so much misery … to so many of us. Didn’t she?’

  He nodded.

  ‘May God forgive me, I’m glad. I’m glad,’ she whispered. ‘It’s over, lad.’ They gripped each other’s hands tightly.

  ‘Tea and bacon out for you, here, lass,’ Tabby called across, bringing them back to the present.

  As she ate, Pip’s thoughts switched to another strand of the previous day’s drama and she scrutinised the lad beside her. Glory be to God, he didn’t seem the worse for his own discovery. Then again, Simon was a master at hiding things well, suppressing his emotions. He’d been practising most of his life, after all. The less he allowed himself to feel, the less he hurt. It was a pr
otection of sorts. She understood the need to shield the heart only too well.

  ‘How d’you feel, Pip, about all this?’ he asked now. ‘Cook and the master are your grandparents. God above, I can’t fathom it. And him. He’s your father.’

  ‘I don’t know, lad, and that’s the truth. My mind’s a mess. And Mr Philip …’ She sighed. Still, she was unsure how she felt regarding him. ‘He took the news well, considering. Disappointed, that would of been the worst, you know? Yet he weren’t. He were … reet nice. I just, I don’t know what to do, to think, can’t decide how I ought to feel. It’s all a shock still, aye.’

  ‘He’s a wrong ’un.’ The dislike in Simon’s tone was clear. ‘Be careful with him, Pip. Will you?’

  She couldn’t blame the lad for fretting. The man’s past was enough to make anyone wary. ‘I shall.’

  ‘We still don’t know the reasoning behind the desperation to marry off your Miss Josephine to that filth, Sutton-Shaw. Just ’cause Mrs Goldthorpe’s gone, it don’t mean it’s over – Mr Philip’s as much involved, ain’t he? You see? If he can plan devilment with his own sister’s life … Who’s to say he’d not do the same with thee, should he have cause to? He’s bad news, I know it.’

  ‘D’you know, with all what’s gone on …’ She shook her head. ‘How did that business slip my mind?’ Disillusionment stabbed. And to think she’d so much as dared to believe, to hope … Simon was right. Philip was not to be trusted. ‘I’ll confront him over it next time we meet, you just see if I don’t,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll tell him all about what sort of man he’s friends with, an’ all, to boot. And d’you know what?’ She raised her eyes to Simon’s. She saw his image through a film of tears. ‘If he don’t believe me, I’ll take my words to the master, I will. He loves his daughter, it’s clear. Surely he’ll put a stop to the sham of a union?’

  ‘Or not.’

  She frowned. ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘Let’s just get out of here, Pip,’ he burst out on an urgent breath. ‘We’re free to now, after all; that cow has no hold on us no more. We ain’t tethered here, can leave if we wish. Bugger these lot, leave them to their troubles. We owe no one nowt, do we?’

  But things have changed, her mind whispered. Thoughts of leaving the members of this household, now, twisted her stomach into tight knots. She realised she didn’t want to go it alone, not any more. She was tired of having no one to call hers. She needed this. She wanted it more so.

  ‘But if we can get to the truth, put a stop to everything, we’d not need to quit, eh?’ she almost pleaded.

  ‘Me and Bread not enough for you now, is that it?’

  ‘Simon, it’s not like that. It’s just, I’ve come to realise that having folk around you, who yer can call your very own … Well, it’s summat to be thankful for. You can’t ever have too many, you know. In fact … in fact, I reckon you were hasty dismissing Peter as you did. Past is the past. That wife of his is no longer in t’ picture. He’s come to his senses, realises how you were treated. Despite everything, he’s still your father, lad.’

  ‘I’ll not listen to this. I told you yesterday—’

  ‘Angel Street.’ She nodded when he blinked. ‘That’s where he’s dwelling, some cellar there. So now you know. Choice is yours, lad. I will add this, mind: the master asked of me that address last night, insisted Peter deserved a reward for saving Lucy’s life. And d’you know what he found when he went there?’

  Simon shook his head.

  ‘Your father refused point blank to accept his brass, insisted he did only what the next fella would’ve. That there’s the action of a moral man. So you see, he don’t look to be half the one you once knew.’ She rose from the table. Before leaving, she placed her hand on top of his. ‘Think of poor young Mack, still without a flesh-and-blood soul in the world to call his. We’re the fortunate ones. Don’t throw it away, eh? Least not till you can say you tried.’

  Leaving him to ponder her advice, Pip headed back to Josephine’s room.

  Chapter 25

  CAROLINE GOLDTHORPE HAD indeed gone. And didn’t Bracken House know it.

  Once everyone got over the initial shock, they seemed to breathe just that little bit more freely. Now, the air felt cleansed, as if a bad poison had left it. Still, they could barely believe it. It seemed almost too good to be true.

  However, shaking off Alexander Sutton-Shaw wasn’t as easy.

  His visits had increased over the days following her departure. Perhaps he’d become insecure because what had clearly been his main ally had gone? With just weeks until the big day, was he keeping a closer eye on matters, ensuring nothing went wrong?

  What he was, what he had a fancy for … there could be no mistaking that he himself was privy to the plan. Why was still unclear. It certainly wasn’t for love. And the one person, now, who could have shed light on it, was as absent as his wife.

  Less than an hour after signing Caroline over to the asylum superintendent, Philip had packed a travel case and left to stay with a business acquaintance for a short while ‘to clear his thoughts’. By waking late that morning, Pip had missed his departure – the discovery had left her both saddened and hurt. She could understand his need to get away after all he’d had to deal with but surely he could have informed her, said goodbye? Just as she’d found him, she felt she’d lost him again. How could he just leave her like that? Didn’t he want her after all, was that it? She fretted continually, plagued with insecurity. It was a heavy blow to take.

  The one person who made Pip feel closer to Philip was Lucy. Now, as she headed up to the nursery with Mack to spend a few minutes with her, Pip’s smile slowly returned. What she’d do without the girl, she didn’t know.

  The master had broken the news to his granddaughter concerning Pip’s true identity, and she’d accepted it in her simple, sunny way. Given the nature of the astonishing discovery, namely Philip’s promiscuity, Albert had given her a watered-down explanation, omitting some things and inventing others that he felt her young mind was able to grasp. Time enough for the complete truth when the girl was grown, he’d explained to Pip, and she’d promised to stick to his version if it meant protecting Lucy. She’d rather die than cause the innocent soul a second’s pain.

  They entered the pleasant room, where a fire blazed merrily, to find Lucy sitting up in bed playing with her dolls. Catching sight of them, her face spread in a beaming smile.

  ‘Good afternoon, you two! Come, sit yourselves down.’ Even she appeared happier since Caroline had gone; a sad fact, really, and proof of her poor ability as a mother.

  ‘How you feeling, lass?’

  ‘Excellent, thank you. I shall feel better still when I’m permitted to leave this rotten bed. But, Grandy and Budd will insist …’ Throwing her hands in the air, she heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘I’m bored silly, I am really, and it’s quite unnecessary. I feel perfectly well and fine.’

  Perching on the edge of the bed beside Mack, Pip nodded sympathetically. ‘They just want to make certain you’re properly better. That your lungs are cleared of the lake’s contents, like. Plenty of rest is what’s needed for that.’

  Though physically, Lucy seemed none the worse for her ordeal, mentally it was another matter, Pip suspected – her mention of the lake had smudged the girl’s smile. That her own mother was behind the attack must be difficult to process. Little wonder she seemed relieved that she had gone. Pip just hoped the trauma would leave the girl in time. It was, after all, a sound healer.

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ murmured Lucy.

  ‘That’s right, lass. You know it’s for the best. ’Ere, remember the master, when he was poorly? He stopped in his sickbed, didn’t he, and look at him now; healthy as a fiddle. It’ll not be for very much longer, I reckon.’

  The girl nodded, then her face creased thoughtfully. ‘Pip?’

  ‘Aye?’

  ‘Why do you still address him as Master? Why not Grandfather, or Grandy as do I?’

  Eeh, la
ss, if only it were that simple. The very notion was alien to her; it was doubtful her tongue would ever be able to give life to the terms. She shrugged. ‘Mebbe one day, Miss Lucy. Lucy,’ she amended with a grin when the girl made to protest. ‘The Miss part keeps slipping in, don’t it? Ay well, I’ll grow used to that at least, in time, I’m sure.’

  Soon after, the nursemaid informed them kindly that her charge needed to rest and, bidding reluctant goodbyes, Pip and Mack exited the room. They were brought up short when, upon reaching the landing below, they almost collided with Alexander going in the direction they had come from.

  Burning protectiveness for the girl upstairs rushed through Pip. She lifted her chin. ‘The lass ain’t fit to receive further visitors. She’s resting.’

  Rather than be angry, amusement flickered behind his eyes. ‘I merely planned to pop my head inside to enquire about her health – Josephine’s idea. No fear of my pouncing on her, fret not.’

  Pip’s stomach turned over; she shook her head in utter disgust.

  ‘After all,’ he continued, voice dropping further, ‘she, and you along with her, sadly lack between your legs what I have a liking for. Unlike this one, here.’ His gaze smouldered as it fell upon the boy beside her. ‘Mm. Peachy,’ he murmured.

  She willed someone to appear, to overhear him, expose him for who he really was. The master, Josephine, anyone. They didn’t. She yanked a smiling Mack behind her, out of Alexander’s sight: unaware of the meaning behind the words, young as he was, he’d clearly forgotten his previous encounter with this beast. Her voice trembled: ‘You’ll leave them both be, him and Lucy.’

  ‘Oh, plain old Lucy, is it, now?’ His eyebrow danced. ‘Yes, that’s right. You’re not required to uphold formalities any longer, are you? Josephine has filled me in on the extraordinary developments.’ Glancing around, he leaned in close, smirking when she shrank back. ‘Bravo. It appears you’ve successfully reeled the family into your web of deceit. Perhaps we have more in common than I thought.’