A Handful of Sovereigns

by A Handful of Sovereigns (retail) (epub)

  ‘Hugh, oh God, Hugh. It wasn’t like that, please, please listen to me, I can explain. If you’ll only…’

  ‘Get away from me, you bastard,’ Hugh snatched Harry’s hand from his arm. With tears coursing down his cheeks he screamed at the stricken figure. ‘I loved you, Harry. I loved you more than anyone in the world. I would have done anything for you. And all the time you were laughing at me, holding me up to ridicule. How could you, Harry, how could you be so— so cruel. I never did anything to— to deserve the way you’ve tre— treated me.’ Flinging himself round he buried his face against the wall, his body shaking with sobs.

  Harry stood helplessly watching his brother’s anguish, knowing there was nothing he could do or say that would ever make things right between them again. Still, he had to try, he had to make Hugh understand. God damn it. Why had he kept that blasted wallet? He’d meant to throw it away countless times, but had never got round to it. Now it was too late.

  Tentatively placing his hand upon the shuddering arm he said softly, ‘Hugh, Hugh, I…’

  ‘Get away from me, you stinking bastard!’ Hugh’s shrill cry split the air, his arm coming up and round to catch Harry a violent blow around the side of his face. Unprepared for the attack Harry staggered backwards, his foot catching in one of his shirts, sending him crashing back against the corner of his dressing table. He lay stunned for a few moments, then Hugh was standing over him, his mouth working furiously as he spat at him.

  ‘I’m leaving now and I never want to see you again for as long as I live. From this moment on, I have no brother. As far as I’m concerned you’re dead; as dead to me as you are to Maggie. You’ve lost her, Harry, lost her forever. You betrayed and abused her trust, just as you did mine. May you rot in hell for what you’ve done to us.’

  ‘Hugh wait, please wait,’ Harry struggled to his feet, his hand holding his forehead. ‘I had to make sure you didn’t recognise each other. Hugh, you know how I feel about Maggie, I had to make sure. That was the only reason I brought you face to face. As God is my witness, I would never deliberately hurt you. I love you, you’re my brother. Hugh… Hugh.’ Staggering out onto the landing he rested his hands on the balustrade and watched helplessly as Hugh ran down the stairway, his long legs taking the steps two at a time.

  It was at that moment that the front door opened to admit Edward and Beatrice, the laughter they were sharing abruptly stopping at the sight of their son, his distress painfully evident.

  ‘Why, Hugh, whatever’s happened, dear? Is something wr—’

  ‘Not now, mother, please, I have to get out of this house, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.’ Exerting his last piece of self-control, he gently moved his mother to one side before bounding down the stone steps and out into the dark night.

  Edward and Beatrice looked at each other in bewilderment, but before either of them could speak Benson came rushing from the kitchen. ‘Oh sir, sir, I’m that glad you’re home. There’s been ructions upstairs, sir. Mr Hugh was shouting at Mr Harry, well… screaming would be a better word, then they started fighting. Lord sir, I never thought I’d see the day when the two masters fell out. It was terrible to hear, sir. I tried to…’

  ‘Yes yes, that will be all, Benson,’ Edward snapped impatiently. Quickly handing over his top hat, coat, and cane he mounted the stairs, his face worried. Beatrice didn’t bother to divest herself of her outdoor wear, she was too busy following her husband, as anxious as he to find out what had been happening in their absence.

  When they reached Harry’s room, they both stopped in surprise, their eyes taking in the shambles that littered the floor and bed. And Harry, oh, Lord, Harry who sat among the debris, his face a mask of pain and misery. So shocked were they by the sight of their strong son reduced to such a state they remained silent, each of them too stunned to speak. Edward recovered first.

  Clearing his throat he said in bewilderment, ‘What the bloody hell has been going on, Harry?’

  And Harry raised his head wearily and answered, ‘We had better go downstairs. There is a lot I have to tell you. After you hear what I have to say, you may well ask me to follow Hugh from the house and never return.’

  Like a man who had lost everything he valued in the world, he rose to his feet. Brushing past his parents he walked down the stairs and into the dining room. After a few moments Edward and Beatrice joined him, their faces drawn with anxiety.

  When the door closed behind them, Bella stepped out of the library into the hall. She had arrived home soon after Hugh and had heard the altercation that had followed from the bottom of the stairway. When she had heard Hugh coming down the stairs, and the sound of a carriage drawing up outside the house, she had quickly hidden in the library. Stepping nearer to the dining room she leaned forward trying to hear what was being said, but heard only muffled voices. Her face thoughtful, she moved away from the door. Walking quietly she made her way up the stairs. Pausing briefly to stare at the wreckage of Harry’s room, she passed by to her own.

  Once there she made straight for her jewellery box, panic mounting in her breast at the sight of the contents. What was she going to do? There wasn’t enough here to satisfy Jimmy. She’d led him to believe she had plenty of jewels to bring to him tomorrow. She couldn’t go to him with this paltry handful. Biting down on her bottom lip she continued staring into the box as if willing it to bring back all the precious pieces that had once adorned the red-lined interior. Slumping down onto her bed she listened out for any sound from below, but could hear nothing. Dimly she wondered what had happened between Harry and Hugh. She’d heard Maggie’s name mentioned during the quarrel, but hadn’t been able to hear everything that had been said. Not that she gave a damn about anything that happened in this house. Her only concern now was to get away, but she needed money, money and jewels.

  A crafty look came over her face. Of course, her parents’ room. Her father always kept some money in his wall safe, along with her mother’s jewellery. Creeping along the landing she carefully pushed open the door leading into the master bedroom. Once inside she made straight for the wall safe hidden behind a landscape painting. Within minutes she had the safe open, and five minutes later she was back in her room, her heart beating wildly as she stared down at the wad of notes and the pearl-encrusted box she held in her shaking hands. To her great surprise, a feeling of guilt swept over her. She couldn’t do this, not steal from her own parents. But how else could she be with Jimmy? Stifling her conscience, she put the money and the box into her bag, then quickly undressed for bed.

  It was nearly two hours later when she heard the footsteps on the stairs and the muffled voices on the landing. Her door was pushed open slowly and she quickly closed her eyes as the light from a lamp was shone on her face. Then the door closed again and she heard her mother crying. Turning her face into the pillow she stared into the darkness. It wasn’t too late to change her mind. She could easily put back the money and jewellery tomorrow before their absence was discovered. Her father only kept the money for emergencies, and her mother rarely used the jewellery in the safe, preferring to wear her pearls and garnets which she kept in a trinket box on her dressing table. No, the theft wouldn’t be discovered immediately; in fact it could be weeks before either of them opened the safe. Flopping over onto her back she tried to get some sleep; she had a great deal to do tomorrow. A picture of her parents floated in front of her eyes, then the guilt assailed her once more.

  Blast it! They had plenty, it wasn’t as if she were leaving them penniless. Giving up all notion of sleep, she padded across the thick carpet to her window. This time tomorrow she would be in another country. In all probability she would never see her parents or brothers again. Once she left this house, she could never come back, not after what she had done.

  Lifting her head, she stared up into the cloudy sky. She didn’t care; she didn’t. So why did she feel so bad? This was the first time she had experienced guilt, and she didn’t like it; she didn’t like it one
little bit. Damn that little slut. It was all her fault she was in this position.

  Not content with trying to tear her and Jimmy apart, the little trollop had also wreaked havoc between Harry and Hugh, the result of which would surely reflect on her parents. How the hell could one chit of a girl cause so much destruction?

  An image of a smiling Maggie appeared in the window. Bella felt her hands curving towards the long neck, then quickly dropped her hands to her side. For a brief moment she had imagined the young girl was in the room, laughing at her, taunting her. God! She must get some sleep, she must. Tearing her eyes away from the window she walked back to her bed.

  * * *

  When the frantic hammering started on the door, Lotte rose slowly from the armchair, her footsteps steady as she walked to the front door. Pausing for a brief moment, she took a long, deep breath then opened the door.

  ‘Oh Lotte, Lotte, it was terrible, terrible. I’ve left home, Lotte. And Maggie hates me now… It was Harry’s fault, Lotte. I hate him, I do, I do. Let me stay, Lotte, please let me stay with you.’ Hugh fell against her, his arms clutching at her desperately while he sobbed on her shoulder. Pulling him gently into the hall, Lotte closed the door and led him into the living room.

  Pushing him down into the chair before the blazing fire she said softly, ‘Hugh dear, it’s all right now. Everything will be all right now.’ Kneeling down by his side she laid her head in his lap and closed her eyes.

  She had known when she sent him to Maggie that she was taking a risk. Nevertheless, she had taken the gamble. It had been the biggest gamble of her life, but it had paid off. He was back, and this time he would stay; she would make sure of that. Tears of relief slid silently down her face; then she closed her eyes and slept.

  Twenty-two

  ‘What’s up, Maggie? You’ve hardly said a word all morning, and yer don’t look too good neither.’

  Maggie stood by the stove vigorously stirring a large pot of lamb stew with a wooden ladle. Careful not to burn her lips she tasted a drop of gravy from the spoon. Deciding it needed more salt, she threw a liberal sprinkling into the simmering pot before turning to Charlie.

  ‘Nothing’s up, as you put it. Now get on with those potatoes – they won’t peel themselves.’

  ‘All right, I’m doing them, ain’t I?’ Charlie replied defensively. He looked after her retreating back as she walked through to the dining room and sighed deeply. Cor, she was in a mood and no mistake. Best if he kept his head down for the rest of the day, and hope she cheered up before going home tonight.

  In the dining room, Maggie bustled round the tables enquiring as to whether her customers were enjoying their meal. When this simple exercise had been completed she walked up the few steps into the ladies’ quarter and sat down. The space she had reserved for her women customers was empty at this time of day, and taking the opportunity for a moment’s respite she stared dejectedly into space.

  Charlie was right when he said she didn’t look too good; she didn’t feel it. She’d hardly had a wink of sleep last night, and when she had woken this morning, she had imagined for a moment that the previous night had all been some horrible nightmare. It had been a nightmare all right, but a nightmare from which she would never awake. The hurt and shame she had felt had now turned into a slow, burning anger. Not against Hugh, oh no. He had been as much a victim as she was. In the cold light of day she had been able to see Hugh’s side of the story. After all she had gone to that particular part of the East End that night for one purpose. It wasn’t Hugh’s fault he had mistaken her for a prostitute and had taken her before realising his mistake. No, it wasn’t Hugh she blamed for the shame and misery that was filling every part of her body, nor even Harry; it was herself she was angry with. Angry that she could have been so stupid as to believe that a man like Harry would ever look on her as anything else but what she was: a common working girl who could be manipulated into believing she was something special.

  At what point would Harry again have put his proposition to her – because that was what he had been leading up to – to try and make her his mistress? And if she had succumbed, how long would his interest have held. Not long she was sure. For men like Harry the excitement was in the chase, the conquest, after that they invariably moved onto the next woman. She was glad now that Hugh had confessed to her, for if he hadn’t she would probably have joined a long line of women in Harry’s life. At least she had been spared the final humiliation of being used and tossed aside by a man she had grown to love and imagined one day would marry her.

  When she heard the footsteps on the wooden stairs, she remained motionless, not daring to look up. The shiny, black polished boots planted themselves in front of her. Above them loomed a pair of grey and black pin-striped trousers, the crease down the front sharp enough to cut your finger on. She didn’t have to look up, she knew who it was; she had been expecting him all morning.

  ‘Hello, Maggie.’

  Her face and neck grew hot at the familiar sound of his

  voice, a voice now tinged with uncertainty.

  ‘What do you want?’ she said dully, her heart racing at his presence.

  Harry looked down on the shining brown hair and coughed nervously. ‘We have to talk, Maggie. Could we go to the kitchen where we can have some privacy.’

  ‘Very well.’ She stood up slowly, then still not looking at him she made her way to the kitchen.

  ‘’Allo, ’Arry,’ Charlie beamed at him cheerfully.

  ‘Charlie, could you leave us for a few minutes, please?’

  Maggie spoke tersely, trying to hang onto her self-esteem. Whatever happened she mustn’t give way, mustn’t let him see just how much he had hurt her. Harry smiled at the bemused boy as he passed him.

  Turning back to Maggie he again gave a small cough before saying solemnly, ‘I’ve come to apologise, Maggie, and to tell you what I told Hugh. That is that I never meant either of you any harm. You were, and still are very dear to me. I know my actions may appear to have been malicious, but you must see how I was placed. How could I tell you the truth, or Hugh? I was in an impossible situation from the very beginning.

  ‘Then, when I met you again and continued seeing you, I realised you had become very special to me. I should never have brought Hugh along with me. I was still angry with him for the way he had behaved, unreasonably so, for he had suffered enough. Still I wanted to punish him. I don’t know what I expected from your first meeting, all I can remember is the relief I felt when you failed to recognise each other. I know you were fond of Hugh, I thought at one time…’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Suffice it to say, I became jealous of the attention you gave him. All that is academic now. Hugh no longer acknowledges me as his brother, and my parents are distraught at all that has transpired. I feel I have been punished enough.’

  He looked appealingly into the dull eyes, then cried, ‘Maggie, please, don’t turn your back on me too. I couldn’t bear it. Say you’ll forgive me. We could start afresh, put all this sordid business behind us and begin again.’

  Maggie heard the pain in his voice but could only shake her head. ‘No, Harry, I’m sorry, but it would never work, not now.’ She gave a hiccup of a laugh. ‘It’s funny, you know, because if you’d come round earlier you’d have been met with a barrage of abuse, and maybe the sharp end of a kitchen knife. Even up to the moment you arrived I was feeling a lot of anger and hate towards you, but not any more. Now I just want to get on with my life. I don’t want to give up working here, I like it and the people who come here, but I don’t want anything more to do with you. If you’ll promise never to come here again, I’ll carry on running the place for you and Charlie can bring you the rent every month. If you can’t give me your word you’ll leave me in peace, then I’ll leave, it’s as simple as that.’

  Harry stared into the unflinching brown eyes and knew he had lost her. God! What had he done to deserve this. He should have known the past would catch up with them one day. If only Hugh could ha
ve been content with Lotte, he would never have gone to Maggie and the truth would have remained buried. But then life never works out as you would want it to. His motives may have been selfish at the beginning, but ever since, all he had tried to do was to protect the two people he cared most about. And this was his reward, to be shunned by both of them. He wondered how she would react if he were to take her in his arms. Would she relent, or push him away? As much as he wanted to try once more, his pride prevented him from moving towards her.

  Drawing his body up to his full height he said stiffly, ‘If that is the way you feel, then you have my word I will never trouble you again. Good day to you, madam.’

  Maggie watched him go with tears in her eyes. Why had he given up so easily? From the moment she had heard his voice, all anger had left her. She also knew that nobody was to blame for the disaster that had left their lives in tatters. A chain of events had begun the night she had left her home, with no-one being able to foresee the outcome. She should have given him the benefit of doubt, but had been too proud and afraid to take the chance of being hurt any more.

  ‘’Arry gone then?’ Charlie’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘I didn’t see ’im leave. Is he coming back?’

  Maggie turned to the stove, lowering the flame beneath the cooked stew. In a voice far from steady she replied, ‘No, Charlie, he won’t be coming back; he won’t ever be coming back.’

  * * *

  Bella heard the town clock chime and moved uneasily on the bed. It was now four o’clock, and Jimmy had been gone for nearly two hours. Glancing down at his suitcase she felt a moment’s reassurance. He had packed while she was here, putting all his worldly goods into the battered case – he wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t coming back. Why wouldn’t he, her mind shot the question at her. He has enough money now to buy whatever he likes, so why should he come back for you?