A Handful of Sovereigns

by Anna King

  To compare them to animals would have been an insult to the animal kingdom. How could any man commit such an act with their own flesh and blood? And according to Liz it had been going on since Teresa was little more than a child. And what of the mother who had allowed this to happen? To Maggie’s way of thinking the woman was more repulsive than the men. She had shown more interest in the basket of food than the terrible plight of her daughter. Even now Maggie couldn’t remember leaving the squalid room, what she could remember was holding Lizzie’s head as she had thrown up her breakfast in a quiet alley, while struggling to retain her own.

  All the way home, Liz had held onto Maggie’s arm saying over and over again. ‘It could have been me… it could have been me,’ referring to the phossy jaw, but not once had she mentioned Teresa’s pregnancy. Once over the initial shock, Maggie had intended to go back to the tenement and offer what little comfort she could but even her considerable strength of character hadn’t been sufficient to enable her to make the journey again. Now Teresa was dead, buried in a pauper’s grave along with the child she had died giving birth to. She hadn’t had a chance, for if she had survived the birth she would have died as a result of the phossy jaw. She had been just 16 years old.

  Tears of recrimination stung Maggie’s eyes. Here she was thinking herself badly off just because Liz had found a boyfriend that she herself couldn’t stand the sight of. Shaking her head she sat up straighter on the bench, telling herself to count her blessings. As her Mum used to say, ‘You don’t know when you’re well off’.

  A bee flew past her ear making her start and without stopping to think she lashed out at it. When she felt the sharp pain in her hand she jumped to her feet in alarm. ‘Oh, sod it, the bloody thing’s stung me.’ Her angry cries caught the attention of the passers-by who smiled in amusement at the young girl’s evident discomfort. Ignoring their presence she peered down at her hand wondering what to do; she’d never been stung before, but she knew she’d have to get the sting out of her palm. The sharp pain had subsided, and she glanced quickly down the street to see if Charlie was anywhere in sight. He might know what to do, but there was no sign of him.

  ‘Damn and blast, Charlie, what’s taking you so long?’ she muttered under her breath. Sitting back down on the bench she again looked at her palm and the small black sting protruding from the inflamed skin. Just as she was about to go in search of her brother she became aware of someone standing beside her.

  ‘May I be of any assistance?’ a deep, cultured voice asked. Peering up from under her straw hat she saw the tall figure of a man bending over her.

  Screwing up her eyes against the glare of the sun she answered quickly, ‘Oh, no thank you, sir, it’s just a bee sting, my brother will be back soon, he’ll get it out for me.’

  ‘Well now, it just so happens I’m an expert at removing stings. If you’ll allow me?’

  Without giving her the chance to answer he sat down and taking hold of her hand he deftly removed the offending object.

  ‘There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ he asked, while wrapping a white handkerchief around her palm.

  ‘It will probably swell up, they normally do. When you get home, soak it in cold water – that usually does the trick.’

  During the delicate operation Maggie had kept her eyes firmly on her hand, now, remembering her manners she started to thank the stranger.

  ‘Thank you, sir, it was very kind of… Oh, my God, it’s you!’ she exclaimed fearfully as she looked into the face that had been haunting her dreams for the past two years.

  ‘Please, don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm,’ Harry said earnestly, anxious to dispel the look of fear from the girl’s face. Pulling her hand free, Maggie inched her way along the bench, her eyes never leaving Harry’s face.

  ‘That’s what you said to me that night,’ she whispered, her bandaged hand gripping the front of her dress.

  ‘I remember.’ Harry’s voice was gentle. ‘And I kept my word, didn’t I? I never harmed you then, and I’m not going to harm you now. Won’t you trust me, please?’

  He had moved closer to her and this time Maggie didn’t draw away. She had dreamt of this moment hundreds of times, and had rehearsed what she would say to him if ever they came face to face again. But that had been in the comfortable world of make-believe where she could let fly with her imagination. This was reality, and for the life of her she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  ‘Won’t you even tell me your name?’ Harry was speaking again. Looking into the kind blue eyes, Maggie answered shakily, ‘Ma… Maggie, sir. Maggie Paige.’

  ‘Maggie,’ he repeated softly. ‘It’s a nice name, and it suits you perfectly. My name is Harry. Now that we’ve dispensed with the formalities maybe you can tell me what you’ve been doing since we last met.’

  The banal remark caused Maggie’s lower lip to drop in amazement. Anybody listening would think the site of their last encounter had been a tea-party instead of a dark, filthy alleyway. Now that the initial shock at seeing him had passed, Maggie could feel her composure returning, and with it her courage.

  Drawing her shoulders back she stared him straight in the eyes and said quietly, ‘You mean since the night you found me sprawled in an alley after being raped?’ The brutal words made Harry flinch, followed swiftly by a growing admiration for the girl seated beside him. Here was someone who wasn’t afraid to face up to the truth, however unpleasant it may be. When he had first seen her sitting on the bench he had been unsure if it was the same girl he had aided that night. He had stood on the opposite side of the street trying to make up his mind whether to approach her when she’d jumped from the bench in obvious distress. Without stopping to think he had once again come to her aid. Knowing that small talk would only aggravate her further he decided to be frank.

  Inclining his head towards her he said, ‘You are very direct, Miss Paige, and yes, that is what I meant, although I would never have had the courage to put it so bluntly.’

  Hearing the obvious sincerity in his voice Maggie bowed her head in confusion, then swallowing noisily she began to tell him about her new livelihood. He listened intently, his head nodding from time to time, and when she had finished her story he smiled warmly.

  ‘That’s splendid, Miss Paige, simply splendid. You know, I’ve often thought about you and wondered how you were faring. Now I see that my first impressions of you were accurate. You’re a fighter, Miss Paige. You also possess a rare honesty that is refreshing to find in one so young. I’m delighted that things have worked out so well for you and your family.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Maggie murmured, while her mind shouted at her to say something interesting instead of sitting like a stuffed dummy.

  When he reached into his waistcoat pocket and extracted a gold watch, she said quickly, ‘Please don’t let me keep you from your business, sir. You must have been on your way somewhere before you stopped to help me.’

  Harry looked up at the flushed face, and anxious to put her at her ease he replied, ‘Actually, I’m supposed to be meeting my brother and sister here. It’s my sister’s birthday, you see, and my brother and I are taking her to the Cafe Royal in Regent Street to celebrate,’ he said by way of explanation. He omitted the fact that he had tried his level best to get out of the afternoon excursion, without success.

  Knowing that at any moment Charlie would be back, the question that had been tormenting her for over two years hovered on her tongue.

  Then without any preamble she burst out suddenly, ‘Why did you help me that night? I was nothing to you, and people of your class don’t normally have anything to do with the likes of me. And why did you give me all that money? Not that I’m not grateful, because without it we could have ended up in the workhouse, but I still want to know why.’

  Harry shifted uncomfortably on the bench, wondering how best to answer. He couldn’t very well tell her the origin of the money he had so generously handed over, yet he owed her some kind of explanation. A
nd so, lifting his shoulders slightly he answered simply, ‘I wanted to help you. As for the money…’ Again he shrugged. I have more than enough, but I very rarely have the opportunity to put it to good use.’

  Unable to meet his gaze, Maggie glanced over her shoulder and felt her body slump with relief at the sight of Charlie hurrying towards them. Harry followed her gaze and realising that the running figure was the brother, rose to his feet.

  Bowing from the waist he took hold of her bandaged hand and said, ‘I’m glad we had this opportunity to talk, Miss Paige, and at the risk of repeating myself from our first meeting, if you ever need my help, please don’t hesitate to contact me.’

  ‘But the money,’ Maggie stammered, ‘I want to return it. I always looked upon it as a loan. I never intended to keep it.’

  Now it was Harry’s turn to look amazed. He knew better than most of his class just how much £20 would mean to someone like Maggie, yet here she was offering to give back what must seem a fortune to her. The enormity of the gesture made him feel very humble.

  ‘I see you are a woman of principle, Miss Paige and I respect that, but please believe me when I say that you would be doing me a great service if you looked upon the money as a gift.’

  ‘You all right, Maggie?’ Charlie had appeared by the bench, his face set beneath the flat cap he always wore. Hampered as he was by the newspaper-wrapped parcel from which emanated an appetising smell, and the two tin mugs filled with lemonade, he nevertheless assumed a menacing stance, ready to forfeit his dinner if need be to rush to his sister’s defence.

  Harry saw the threatening gesture of the boy, who couldn’t have been more than ten or 11, and fought down the impulse to smile. Clearly the Paige family were a force to be reckoned with. Placing his high hat back on his head, he once again bowed to Maggie.

  ‘I see your luncheon has arrived, so I’ll bid you good day, Miss Paige, and you too, young sir. I hope we’ll meet again in the not too distant future.’

  Slightly mollified by the stranger’s friendly manner, Charlie relaxed somewhat, his eyes darting from Maggie to the tall, well-dressed man as if seeking an explanation.

  ‘What on earth kept you so long, Charlie?’ Maggie’s voice was unusually high, ‘I thought you’d got lost.’

  ‘It wasn’t my fault, Maggie,’ Charlie answered defensively. ‘There was a queue, and when it got to my turn I had to wait for the next lot out of the oven.’

  Harry turned to leave, and seeing him about to walk off, Maggie said quickly, ‘I won’t be a minute, Charlie. You start on your dinner.’

  Looking to where Harry stood waiting, she said, ‘Would you mind if I walked with you, Mr Stewart? There is something I’d like to discuss with you.’ Without waiting for him to answer she fell into step beside him; when she was certain they were out of earshot she spoke again.

  ‘I can’t possibly accept your kind offer, but at the same time I can’t afford to pay the money back all at once. Would it be all right if I sent you, say £5 now and the rest at regular intervals?’

  ‘My dear, Miss Paige, I’ve already told you…’

  ‘Yes, I know what you told me,’ Maggie interrupted, ‘and I told you I couldn’t keep it. To be perfectly honest, I could pay it all back now, but I don’t think my sister would be very pleased if I raided our nest-egg.’

  Harry gazed down at her earnest face and felt his heartbeat quicken. Lord, she was pretty; it was a shame she was also highly principled, else he might have been tempted to… No, no, put that idea out of your head, Harry-boy, he told himself sternly, she deserves better than a quick tumble. She had moved closer to his side and he quickly stepped back a pace, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

  ‘If you are determined to return the money I won’t insult you by refusing.’ His voice sounded hoarse, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. ‘However, £5 seems a great deal, so shall we say a pound a week until the debt is cleared?’ Maggie nodded her head, glad that the matter had been settled.

  ‘I have your address. I’ll send you the first payment on Monday, and sir,’ she wet her lips nervously, ‘can I just say again how grateful I am for all your kindness, and that goes for my brother and sister.’

  ‘Tell me,’ he asked, nodding in the direction of where Charlie was now seated on the bench, his watchful eyes on the couple, ‘does your brother know…’

  ‘Oh, no, sir,’ Maggie cried, horrified at the thought.

  ‘He was only nine when it happened. We told him, that is, my sister and I told him, that we had found jobs. We pretended to be at work while he was at school, and then after a couple of weeks, we told him we had saved enough to buy a stall. He didn’t ask any questions. As I said, he was only nine at the time.’

  ‘And your sister, what does she have to say about returning the £20?’

  A smile flitted across Maggie’s face as she remembered the arguments they’d had every time the subject was mentioned.

  ‘She thinks I’m barmy, sir,’ she replied, her voice filled with laughter.

  The sight of Maggie’s smiling face nearly proved to be Harry’s undoing. The temptation to reach out and pull her into his arms was becoming unbearable. Gripping his hands even tighter he returned her smile.

  ‘I have to say I’m inclined to agree with her, Miss Paige, Ah, I believe my errant brother and sister have arrived at last,’ he said, glancing over her shoulder. ‘Shall we say the same time next week? I think it would be wiser if we conducted our business in private rather than trust in the mail service. Good day to you, Miss Paige.’

  ‘Oh, but, sir, wait a…’ Maggie cried in bewilderment, but he had already joined the approaching couple, leaving her no choice but to return to the bench where Charlie was waiting anxiously for her.

  ‘Who was that, Maggie?’ Charlie asked, his mouth crammed with pastry.

  ‘I don’t know his name,’ she lied. ‘I got stung by a bee, and he helped me get the sting out, that’s all.’

  ‘You looked friendly to me.’

  ‘Well we’re not,’ she snapped irritably, taking the warm parcel from Charlie’s lap. The sight of the golden pies and mushy peas caused her stomach to lurch and with an impatient sigh she passed them back. ‘Here you can have mine. I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Ain’t you feeling well, Maggie? We can always go home if you like,’ Charlie said hopefully.

  Was she feeling well? No, she wasn’t. Her legs felt like jelly and her heart was beating so fast she was sure Charlie must hear it. But she couldn’t afford the luxury of rest – she had a living to earn.

  ‘Eat up, Charlie. We’ve still got another few hours of work to do,’ she replied, her eyes staring after the retreating trio.

  * * *

  ‘Really, Harry, we are all painfully aware of your empathy with the common people, but must you mix with them in public? What if someone had seen you?’ Bella was saying, her voice pettish.

  ‘Why, then I would have introduced them to the lady in question,’ Harry replied lazily. ‘I’m sure they would have been as charmed by her as I was.’

  ‘Oh, you’re impossible, Harry, but I refuse to let you spoil my day, after all it is my birthday, don’t forget.’

  Harry’s eyes flickered briefly over his sister, his mind trying to visualise how Maggie would look in the square-necked, blue silk dress Bella was wearing. It was a beautiful creation, and had looked delightful laid out in the cardboard box it had arrived in. Sadly, as soon as Bella had donned it, the dress seemed to have lost interest.

  ‘I haven’t forgotten, Bella, else I wouldn’t be here now,’ he said heavily. Then, unable to resist the temptation to torment his sister further, he added, smiling. ‘It’s your 34th, isn’t it?’

  ‘No it isn’t,’ Bella snapped back angrily. ‘I’m 32, as you well know, you spiteful swine.’ The small hands encased in white lace gloves spun the handle of her parasol round violently, her thin lips pursed into a tight line of anger.

  ‘Careful, Bella, if you tw
irl that parasol any harder it’ll take off.’

  ‘Bugger you!’ The words were spat at him, then turning sharply on her heel she marched off, her back stiff with outrage at the sound of Harry’s loud laughter following her.

  ‘I say, Harry, there was no need for that.’ Hugh was standing in front of him, his face filled with discomfort. ‘She is our sister after all, and you could make an effort to be nice to her, even if it is only for one day.’

  The sound of misery in his brother’s voice curbed Harry’s mirth, and it was with a mixture of pity and exasperation that he turned his attention to the figure by his side. Poor Hugh; always willing to put up with anything rather than risk confrontation. How he managed at the hospital, heaven only knew. Yet by all accounts, his brother was very adept in his profession. Harry could only assume that when Hugh donned the mantle of ‘Doctor’ that he also took on a different personality.

  Shaking his head he said soberly, ‘I know, Hugh, I know, but I can’t seem to help myself where Bella’s concerned. She’s such a self-opinionated little snob, and vindictive to boot. I’m afraid she brings out the worst in me. I only came today because Mother asked me to, but that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy myself.’

  Bella had been joined at the corner by two women friends, her face now wreathed in smiles as she engaged in a few minutes of pleasurable gossip. There was no trace now of the surly demeanour she had displayed only moments earlier.

  ‘Cheer up, old man,’ Harry said cheerfully to the forlorn looking face. ‘I promise to be on my best behaviour for the rest of the day.’

  Hugh shuffled uncomfortably before blurting out. ‘You think I’m a poor stick, don’t you, Harry? I mean the way I’ll put up with anything for the sake of a bit of peace. I wish to God I was more like you, but I’m not and never will be.’ Looking into his brother’s self-assured face he added miserably, ‘You know what’s worse than having nobody like you? No, of course you don’t. Well I’ll tell you. It’s not liking yourself, and I don’t like myself, Harry, I don’t like myself at all.’ Seeing that Harry was about to protest he held up his hand.