A Handful of Sovereigns

by Anna King

  A desire to see him swept over her. Glancing at the mantel clock she saw that it was only eight o’clock. Would he be at home? Could she take the chance of arriving unannounced? She experienced a feeling of unease and quickly shook it off. Of course he would be pleased to see her; he loved her. Swiftly now she donned her outdoor coat and made for the door. Stopping only to tell her mother she was going to visit a friend she left the house before any protests could be made. Ignoring Benson’s offer to get her a cab she walked to the corner of the street and hailed a passing hackney carriage. Once inside she sat on the edge of the seat clutching her leather bag. He would be pleased to see her, of course he would. The sound of the horses’ hooves clipping along the uneven road echoed in her ears as her mind kept repeating over and over: he loves me, he loves me.

  * * *

  ‘Lotte, there’s something I wish to talk to you about.’

  The unmistakable sound of bad tidings in Hugh’s voice set Lotte’s heart beating wildly. They had hardly spoken on the ride home, and now, standing outside her modest one-bedroomed house in Plaistow, Lotte knew with certainty that the moment she had been dreading for months had finally arrived. Determined to keep her dignity she walked into the darkened hallway, lighting the table lamp before turning to face Hugh. He was still standing in the street, the light from the lamp showing clearly his discomfort. Placing her bag and key on the table she walked back to the door.

  ‘There’s no need to say anything, Hugh, I already know and have done for some time now. You want to call off the wedding, don’t you?’ Miserably Hugh nodded his head, unable to look into Lotte’s face.

  ‘I thought so,’ she said quietly. ‘Well, at least it’s out in the open now. Is it Maggie; is that the reason you’ve decided against marrying me?’

  ‘Lotte, please. I never wanted to hurt you, you must believe that,’ Hugh answered, his eyes pleading with her to understand.

  ‘Maggie’s never given me any encouragement, so you mustn’t blame her. I… I know she doesn’t care for me and that there’s no future for me with her, but I couldn’t marry you knowing how I feel about Maggie, it wouldn’t be fair. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me, but could we…’

  ‘Why don’t you go to her and ask her how she feels – you may be surprised at her answer.’

  Hugh’s head jerked up in alarm. Wetting his lips he looked closely at Lotte searching for signs of ridicule but found only sympathy in the dark eyes. A deep sense of shame rose within him.

  ‘Don’t, Lotte, don’t be kind, I don’t deserve it. As for going to Maggie… You know as well as I that it’s Harry she cares for.’

  Desperately trying to appear calm, Lotte fought back the threatened tears to say steadily, ‘Don’t be such a defeatist, Hugh. You don’t know that for certain, and besides, if you want something badly enough you must be prepared to fight for it and take the chances of rejection.’

  Still he stood staring at her, looking for all the world like a child who had lost his mother. Unable to bear the hurt any longer she made to close the door.

  ‘Goodbye, Hugh, and good luck.’

  ‘Lotte, please…’

  The door slammed shut in his face, but not before he had seen the tears glistening in Lotte’s eyes. Alone and bewildered he looked up and down the street as if seeking inspiration, then thrusting his hands into his overcoat pockets he walked aimlessly along the pavement.

  * * *

  Maggie finished the ironing and sighed with relief. She really would have to teach Charlie how to iron, that is if she could ever catch him at home. For the past couple of months he had taken to going out in the evenings saying he was going to see some mates, but she wasn’t convinced. Boys of his age didn’t usually bother to wash and change just to go out with their friends. Smiling gently she put the clean clothing in the ottoman, then sat down by the fire, an open book on her lap. When the knock came on the door she jumped slightly, her heart beginning to beat with expectation. Could it be Harry? He hadn’t been here for weeks, and when he did come he did nothing except sit and talk about the work on the buildings, the weather, the dining rooms, in fact he talked about everything under the sun except the one thing she wanted to hear. Smoothing down her navy wool skirt she checked that the top button on her white blouse was fastened, then walked to the door.

  ‘Hugh!’ The name came out as a gasp. ‘Wh… what are you doing here, what do you want?’

  Hugh heard the fear in her voice and felt his heart skip a beat. In normal circumstances he would have made his apologies and left, but now, fortified by five brandies drunk hurriedly at the pub on the corner of the street, he brushed past the startled girl and lurched into the room.

  ‘Hugh, what is it?’ she cried out, the fear rising in her at the unmistakable smell of alcohol that was emanating from the staggering figure. ‘What have you come here for; what do you want?’

  Hugh spun round unsteadily, his eyes glazed. Then summoning up all his courage he sprung forward grabbing her around the waist.

  ‘Oh, Maggie, Maggie, my love. Please don’t turn me away, I need you; God, how I need you,’ he gabbled into her ear, his voice slurred. This was all he wanted, to hold Maggie in his arms, to have her near to him. Mistaking his intentions, Maggie held herself rigid with fright. Once again she felt the unwelcome presence of a man’s hands upon her person. Good Lord! Was it her lot in life to be continually manhandled and abused by every man she came into contact with? Did she have an invisible sign around her neck saying ‘help yourself’?

  A rising surge of anger overcame her fear, and summoning all of her strength, she pulled at Hugh’s hair, forcing his head backwards. Ignoring his cry of pain she jerked her knee upwards, catching him squarely in the groin. The clutching hands immediately released their hold on her as Hugh sunk to his knees, his cries echoing in her ears. She watched without pity as he crawled away from her towards the armchair.

  When he had heaved himself into the chair she cried out, ‘You can get out of there, Hugh, you’re not stopping. Now get out before I start screaming. I will, I’m not joking, if you don’t go I’ll raise the whole house. Are you listening, Hugh? I mean it, I…’

  ‘No, no, not again, please God, not again.’

  Maggie stood by the door, ready to run if he made any sudden moves, but he remained in the chair, his head in his hands while he continued to cry piteously, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it… forgive me, I didn’t mean to hurt her, it was a mistake, it was all a mistake.’

  His anguished cries filled the room while Maggie continued to watch him suspiciously. Very carefully she moved away from the door, her face wary. ‘What are you talking about, Hugh? Who did you hurt, what girl? Answer me, damn you, what have you done?’

  Hugh raised his head wearily, his face streaked with tears. The effects of the brandy had worn off the moment Maggie had started to fight him, her struggling body reviving the memory of the darkened alley and the girl he had raped. The ugly word brought his body upright while his head shook wildly in denial. No, he wasn’t guilty of rape, it had been a genuine mistake. That area of London was notorious for prostitution, which was why he had gone there, but the girl… For years now he had tried to suppress the memory of that night and the unknown girl’s struggles to get away from him. If only he had been able to share his nightmare with someone it might have helped to assuage the guilt and shame that had racked him ever since. He had tried to speak to Harry about it, but the fear of seeing the disgust and contempt that would surely have followed had stopped him from unburdening himself.

  Now he could keep quiet no longer. He needed to share his shame, needed to hear someone tell him he had nothing to reproach himself for, and what better person to confide in than someone he would never meet again. And after tonight, he would never see Maggie again; that he knew with painful certainty. The knowledge that he was about to ease the burden that had weighed heavily on his conscience for so long sent a wave of relief through his body. Relaxing back in the chair he
began to speak, stumbling at first, then gaining strength as he reached the climax of his story. So intent was he, he failed to notice the look of horror that had come over Maggie’s face. When he had finished he leaned back tiredly, a look of relief on his smooth features. Then he saw Maggie standing before him, the look of disgust and rage in her eyes making him flinch. Averting his gaze he rose unsteadily to his feet.

  ‘I don’t blame you for reacting in this way, but let me tell you, you can’t feel any more loathing for me that I haven’t felt for myself over the years. I’ll take my leave now and never bother you again. I had no right to assume you would welcome my advances, clumsy as they were, but… but all I wanted was to hold you in my arms, to feel you near to me. I’ll admit that if you had been willing, if you had shown some affection for me, I might have been tempted to press my attentions further.

  ‘A few kisses perhaps, I would never have expected anything more, that I swear to you. I have no excuse to offer in my defence except to say that I love you, and have done since the first moment we met. You may well think I have a strange way of showing my love, but… but I’m a weak man, I always have been, and the only way I could find the courage to come here tonight was to fortify myself with drink. I never intended to harm you in any way, you must believe that. I’ll understand if you decide to tell Harry about my visit–’ he gave a short, nervous laugh, ‘—and prepare myself for a sound thrashing. It’s no more than I deserve after the way I’ve behaved tonight. Goodbye, Maggie. I hope you find happiness one day, I’m only sorry it couldn’t have been with me.’

  Maggie stood by the table, her fingers gripping the rough edge as her mind tried to digest what she had just heard. It couldn’t be true, it was some horrible joke. Yet even as she tried to deny it, she knew deep down that what Hugh had told her was the truth. Still she remained silent, unable to utter a word in the face of the horrific revelation. It was only when Hugh brushed past her, his face flushed with embarrassment and shame that she found her tongue.

  Grinding her teeth together she said harshly, ‘Did Harry ever tell you how we met?’

  Hugh stopped in his tracks, his forehead wrinkling in bewilderment at the unexpected question. Turning slowly he raised his gaze to her face, then stepped backwards, alarmed at the fierce rage burning in her eyes.

  Swallowing noisily he stretched his neck up from his collar, and with as much aplomb as he could muster he answered warily, ‘He told me you were a friend; he didn’t go into detail and I didn’t ask. Why? What earthly reason has that to do with what has transpired here tonight?’

  Maggie let go of the table, her hands clenched into tight balls as she advanced upon him. ‘I’ll tell you how we met, shall I? He found me lying on the ground in a dirty, backstreet alley after some filthy bastard had raped me. Oh… you can look shocked, Hugh; after all, it was you, wasn’t it? Well! Answer me, damn it, say something, you gutless bastard.’ Her chest heaving, she fought to control her rage, fought to control the urge to leap at this man, to tear at his face and body; to hurt and inflict the same measure of pain that she had suffered at his hands.

  ‘Was that the only way you could get a woman, by forcing yourself on her? Still, I did very well out of it, didn’t I? Three sovereigns, that was very generous of you, and of course there was the £20 that Harry gave me, after he had seen me safely home. Oh he didn’t get anything in return – you had that pleasure all to yourself. Didn’t you think it strange when he gave you your wallet back; you must remember the wallet you dropped when you ran off leaving me with my skirt up around my waist like a common whore. I gave it to Harry, more fool me. I should have pocketed it, but then I’m not a thief, I…’ The importance of what she had just said suddenly dawned on her. The wallet she had picked up and handed over to Harry had belonged to Hugh. The implication was so horrendous she doubled over as if she had been violently punched in the stomach. Oh, dear God! Oh, no, no… no!

  Screwing up her eyes she thought back to that night. She saw herself giving the wallet to Harry and remembered the look on his face as he’d stared down at it. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now… God, she felt sick, sick and betrayed. He must have looked inside the wallet, must have found something to show who it belonged to. No wonder he had given her such a large amount of money, and she had imagined he was just being kind. Christ! What a fool she had been. The only reason he had been so generous was because he had hoped she would keep her mouth shut about what had happened… And yet, if that were true, why had he given her his name and address?

  Whirling round she stumbled blindly to the armchair and flopped down heavily. It was over. All her hopes and dreams shattered beyond repair. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut she rocked back and forth, her arms tightly wrapped around her body in anguish. She had loved them; loved them both in different ways, and they had used her in the worst way imaginable. Hugh, unwittingly, and Harry… Harry had known exactly what he was doing.

  She thought back to the days spent walking in the park, her tortured mind conjuring up visions of the three of them talking and laughing as if they were all of one and the same class and background. She saw herself puffed up with self-importance at being seen in the company of the two men who were obviously of the gentry, and shuddered with humiliation at the memory. She should have listened to Liz. She should have kept the money and steered well clear of Harry after that first meeting in the park. But she hadn’t heeded her sister’s advice, and now she was paying the ultimate price for her foolishness.

  Why? Why hadn’t Harry told her about Hugh? She knew it wouldn’t have been an easy thing for him to do… but to carry on the pretence, to let her go on believing they both cared for her, that she was someone special was much, much worse. She didn’t understand, didn’t understand any of it. Another shuddering tremor attacked her body. She had imagined she’d known them so well, when in truth she didn’t know them at all; neither of them.

  Hugh too was in a state of severe shock. If what Maggie had said was true, and he had no reason to doubt her, then Harry had known all along. The wallet had had his initials engraved inside – there was no way Harry couldn’t have known who it belonged to. His mind reeling, he walked over to where Maggie sat hunched in the chair.

  In a voice choked with tears he whispered, ‘I’m so sorry, Maggie. You’ll never know how sorry I am. I don’t know what you were doing there that night, but I do know it was for an innocent purpose.’ When his hand tentatively touched her shoulder Maggie jumped violently. Her eyes swimming with unshed tears she glared up at him in disgust.

  ‘Don’t touch me,’ she hissed, her voice filled with contempt and hatred. ‘Don’t ever touch me or come near me again, you pathetic miserable little man.’

  Hugh’s face blanched, his whole body quivering at the venom in her voice. For a brief moment Maggie felt a spark of pity for him, then swiftly squashed the feeling. He didn’t deserve her pity. She hated him; hated both of them. Yet even as she silently berated the two men, part of her longed for Harry’s presence. Her body seemed to be crying out for his strong arms to hold her, to comfort her. Disgusted at her weakness she dropped her face into her hands and sobbed quietly.

  Unable to witness her distress any longer, Hugh gave a strangled cry and fled from the room. Once out in the street he started to run, his feverish thoughts racing round and round inside his head. There was only one purpose in his mind now: to confront Harry. Harry whom he had loved and looked up to all his life. Harry, whom he would have done anything for. Harry, who had deliberately brought him face to face with the girl he had raped. Harry, his beloved brother who had betrayed him with his machiavellian games. For the first time in his life, Hugh felt the emotion of hate, and with every step he took the feeling grew stronger. Hansom cabs passed him by, the drivers looking down at him hopefully, but he ignored them all. He had to keep walking, keep moving, keep alive this burning hatred until he reached his home, and the person who had destroyed his world.

  * * *

/>   At the same time that Hugh was with Maggie, Bella was knocking on Jimmy’s door. After the third knock she prepared to walk away when the door was pulled roughly open to reveal Jimmy, bleary-eyed, wearing only a grubby, grey singlet. The sight of him sent a momentary shudder of distaste down Bella’s spine, a feeling that quickly passed when he reached out and pulled her to him.

  ‘Belle, darling, what are you doing here at this time of night?’ Jimmy cried, trying to inject some enthusiasm into his voice. Keeping her held tightly against him he stared over her shoulder, his face worried. Bloody hell, half an hour earlier and she would have met Doris on the way out. During the months he had been courting Bella he had spent many a night entertaining other young ladies, such as the plump barmaid from The Crown in Stepney.

  ‘Look, Belle, I wasn’t expecting company,’ he said quickly. ‘Give me a minute ter get some clothes on, and I’ll be right wiv yer.’

  Going into the small adjoining room, he pulled on a pair of brown trousers and a grey shirt. Pulling his braces up over his shoulders he waited a few more minutes while he got his thoughts into order. She’d given him a fright turning up like that. Maybe now was the time to play his final trump card.

  For weeks now he had become increasingly bored and impatient with the middle-aged harridan he had so cleverly seduced. It had been fun at first – after all, he had never had a virgin before. She’d been a willing pupil too, eager to learn all he had to teach her. He still couldn’t believe that she’d swallowed his tales about broken business deals, bringing him more jewels to sell each time a ‘deal’ fell through. It was hard to credit that an educated woman like her could be so gullible, but he wasn’t complaining. For the first time in his life he had more money than he knew what to do with, but still he wanted more and was determined to get every last piece of jewellery from her before disappearing from her life. He had planned to wait a couple of weeks before spinning her another tale, but after the unexpected visit and the consequences it might have had, he decided to bring his plans forward. Giving a small shake of his head, he hunched his shoulders and walked back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed, a worried expression on his face.