by Emma Hornby
Jewel began to wonder if she’d made a mistake in venturing here. Jem’s betrayal still stung and the beginnings of a headache throbbed dully behind her eyes. However, at least the weather had brightened and Benji’s roving hands were behaving themselves. Best she tried to enjoy the evening here than be alone with her thoughts at home.
A band had struck up a song to please the townsfolk whilst the entertainment prepared to get under way and there was much jollity from young and old alike. Then the huge balloons, one of which had been named Alexandra in honour of the Princess, began their ascent into the white-grey clouds amidst the crowd’s collective ‘Ooh!’ and ‘Ahh!’ – Jewel herself was entranced. The daring fliers grew smaller and smaller until the balloons’ baskets were nothing more than brown smudges in the sky. The impressed audience cheered and stamped their feet with gusto.
‘I’ll fetch us both a penny pie and a pot of ale, shall I?’ Benji shouted above the medley, inclining his head towards a gathering of hawkers beyond the park’s enclosure.
She nodded. ‘Aye, all right.’
‘I’ll not be long.’ Elbows at the ready, he set off to fight his way through the crush.
Jigging couples bumped Jewel this way and that with grins and breathless apologies; laughing, she looked about. A group of children playing catch in a less crowded spot nearby drew her attention, and she watched them with a smile. Seemingly out of nowhere, a toddler with tight blond curls suddenly appeared amongst them, screeching in delight, and attempted to join in the fun in a wobbling run. The children fell over themselves, giggling, and Jewel chuckled along. Then a tall, well-dressed man with dancing brown eyes was striding towards them. He wagged a finger at the toddler, who was clearly his daughter – grinning, she attempted to dash off again, but he gathered her up in his arms and smothered her in kisses.
As he made to carry her off, as though sensing he was being watched, he glanced in Jewel’s direction. She smiled. With a slight incline of his head, he returned the smile. Moments later, he and the child were gone, lost amongst the crowd.
Longing stirred in Jewel’s breast; she turned away with a small sigh. She’d have loved to have known her own father. Fred Nightingale, from what her mother had told her, sounded like a very nice man, fair and hard-working. He’d passed away before she was old enough to retain any solid memories of him and, for that, she felt cheated. This day seventeen years ago was the happiest of his life, Mam told her often. If only he could be here now to share it with her, wrap his arms around her as that man had just done with the girl, tell her he loved her …
‘’Ere, grab yours. Eeh, that’s good.’ Dragging Jewel from her musings, Benji dumped her meat pie and ale into her hands before taking another long draught of his own drink. ‘Eeh,’ he said again, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Then he nodded down. ‘Eat up then afore it grows cowd.’
Before she did, she scanned the area where the children had been playing but, again, the father and daughter were nowhere to be seen. Swallowing another sigh, she turned her attention to her food.
‘What’s to do with thee?’ asked Benji after some time. ‘Still wasting your thoughts on Wicks?’
‘Am I hell. He can rot there, an’ all, for me.’
Benji smiled, pleased at this, and inched closer to her. Jewel hadn’t the energy to scold him. At least he was keeping his hands to himself.
‘Well, you’re quieter than normal,’ he continued after some moments. ‘Summat’s up.’
Once more, the toddler and the man with the dancing eyes crept into her mind. She shrugged. ‘Bit tired is all. Anyroad, will tha pack it in with the questions? You’re getting on my nerves.’
He did, and she was free to forget her thoughts in the entertainment. The festivities continued for hours and, by the time they set off back to town, her mind was more at ease. Entering the square, she smiled. Gas illuminations had been lit throughout in celebration; the scene was dazzling.
‘Don’t know why you couldn’t of stayed with me longer at the park – at least ’til the fireworks,’ Benji grumbled, thrusting his hands into his pockets as they reached his parents’ shop door. ‘Your mam’s not expecting you yet, so what? I thought you were enjoying yerself.’
‘I were.’ She meant it. The day hadn’t been a complete nightmare, on the whole. ‘I’m ready for my bed, though, now.’
‘Aye well. Do what tha likes, then. I ain’t mithered.’
His pouting face made him look like a three-year-old who couldn’t get his own way rather than the overgrown young man that he was. ‘You could of stayed, didn’t have to miss the fun,’ she told him. ‘I’m big enough and ugly enough to see myself home.’
‘You’re ugly all right.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Grow up, Benji. ’Ere, anyroad,’ she added in a hiss, anger sparking, ‘I can’t be that foul-looking, going by your behaviour – you’re bloody fortunate I agreed to accompany you at all after your antics earlier at the window up yonder. And I’ll tell you this for nowt: should them hands of yourn stray in my direction again, I’ll chop them off – and summat else, an’ all, if you’re not careful. You hear?’
He released a snort of laughter then opened the door. ‘If tha says so.’
‘I bleedin’ do.’
‘Night night, Jewel.’
‘Sod off, Benji!’ she shouted after him as, still chortling, he disappeared, slamming the door in her face. ‘Bloody lads, I’ve had a bellyful for one day,’ she told the darkening sky. Just who did they think they were, anyway? They thought they could treat lasses as they liked and to hell with their feelings. Swines. They could go and rot for all she cared, every last one! Turning on her heel, she headed for home.
She’d almost passed the town hall when she saw him. Leaning against the corner premises on Newport Street, Jem stepped forward as their eyes locked. He held out his hands. ‘Jewel … I can explain …’
‘I’ll bet tha can.’ Surprisingly – she’d thought she would struggle to stop herself clawing the flesh from his face when their paths next crossed – she felt little anger.
‘I called in at your dwelling earlier but your mam said as how you’d gone to Bolton Park with your cousin.’
‘That’s right.’ Jewel’s glance swivelled towards the umbrella shop. Benji was watching them in the distance from his upstairs window. ‘Had a gradely time, we did, an’ all. What?’ she asked when Jem’s face fell. ‘Did tha think I’d be wallowing at home instead? You think too much of yourself, Jeremiah Wicks. That loose piece you were slobbering over is welcome to thee. Now, if you don’t mind …’ She made to step around him but he caught her wrist. She stared at his hand for a moment then brought her gaze, now burning with fury, to his. He had the sense to release her. ‘Now shift out of my way,’ she growled.
‘Jewel, please. I made a mistake, a terrible one, and … We weren’t that serious, me and thee – least I didn’t think so – but now … I want us to make a go of things, proper like. We’ll … we’ll …’ His eyes narrowed as he searched around inside his head for something to win her around. Suddenly, he clicked his fingers. ‘We’ll get wed. Aye, yeah.’ He nodded, smiling. ‘What d’you reckon?’
She could only stare at him with incredulousness.
‘We’re meant to be, you know it. Remember, I’m the gem to your jewel—’
Seeing his hand reaching for her again, her temper reached its peak – throwing out her own, she delivered a slap to his cheek. ‘You’re no gem – a mucky lump of coal, more like!’ To her chagrin, tears were threatening; she blinked them back furiously. ‘I’ll take the head from your neck for you if yer don’t get lost, I mean it—’
‘You heard her.’
Spinning around, she saw Benji standing behind her, arms folded. Despite herself, she was touched by his support. When Jem, admitting defeat, sloped off with a shrug, she cast the lad a wry smile. ‘Ta. Though you know there were no need for you to involve yourself. I can fight my own battles, thank you very much.’ Her tone soft
ened. ‘I’ll tell you what, how’s about we have a walk back to the park? We might still be in time to catch the fireworks?’
His face lit up. ‘Aye?’
‘Yeah, sod it. Come on.’
The display was already under way when they arrived. Clutching pots of ale, they grinned and cheered with everyone else as one firework followed the next, bursts of light whizzing through the night sky like a shower of golden rain.
‘May Bolton prosper!’ The cousins added their voices to the thousands ringing out across the park. ‘Long live the Prince!’
‘I’ll fetch us another ale,’ Benji shouted above the high-spirited noise some time later, but Jewel only half heard him. Her attention was on the faces to her right – she could have sworn she’d just spotted a familiar one: the toddler’s father from earlier. However, if she had, he wasn’t there now; shrugging, she continued with the merriment.
When less than ten minutes later Benji made to go and replenish their drinks yet again, she shook her head. ‘Nay, no more, lad. Your mam will have a blue fit were you to roll home skenning drunk.’
‘A few pots ain’t doing no harm. Well, d’you want one or don’t yer?’ He wiggled his eyebrows and she chuckled.
‘Well, I suppose it is a celebration …’
‘Your birthday, to boot.’
‘Aye. Aye, all right. Last one, mind.’
Watching him walk off, she sighed happily. It felt good to throw caution to the wind for once. Work and want were forgotten for the moment; this day had turned into the best she’d known for many a long year. Picking up her skirts, she danced along to the fiddler’s lively song with the rest of the townspeople.
By the time Benji rejoined her she was helpless with laughter and having the time of her life. Through smiling eyes, he watched her as he drank. The ditties were thirsty work; before she knew it, her pot was empty yet again and, this time, when her cousin held out a hand, she gave it to him without protest. What did it matter so long as they were enjoying themselves? A day like this didn’t happen often – royalty, in their town! And how handsome the Prince of Wales had been! By, it had been a grand experience and one none of them would ever forget.
‘You all right?’ Benji asked her some time later, grinning. ‘Happen you should take a sit down forra while.’
‘Aye. Aye, yeah.’ Squinting through one eye, Jewel allowed him to guide her through the throng. She felt queer; her head felt light yet heavy as lead at the same time. ‘Oh ’eck, lad. How much have I supped?’
‘A fair bit. Come on.’ Taking her elbow, he led her to a more secluded spot. ‘Here, rest yourself on the steps here. You’ll feel reet in a handful of minutes.’
Jewel plopped down on to the edge of the cool stone. Her surroundings had started to spin – she rested her head in her hands. ‘Benji?’
‘Aye?’
‘I think I’m going to be …’ Slapping a hand to her mouth as the contents of her stomach rose, she jumped to her feet. Fancy her getting herself into this state. In public, too. Lord, the shame …
‘Over here.’ Supporting her, he headed for a cluster of trees nearby. Whether accidental – though she very much doubted it, given his previous conduct – the hand of his right arm, draped over her shoulder, brushed against her breast with each step. However, she hadn’t the sense nor the strength to scold. Sickness, rising by the second, was washing over her in dizzying waves.
When they reached the seclusion of the canopy of thick-leaved branches, she leaned her hip against a trunk and bent forward. ‘God, I feel awful.’
Benji didn’t respond. He moved her long plait away from her face and rubbed her back.
‘Mam’ll give me a dressing-down good and proper to see me like this.’
‘Nay.’ His voice was a murmur and his hand moved up, down, up, down, in firm but steady strokes. ‘We’ll stop here ’til you feel well enough. She need never know. That’s it, now sit down here,’ he told her when her retching subsided. He helped her to the damp grass.
Lying back and closing her eyes, she instantly regretted it as nausea swooped again. Groaning, she tried to haul herself up.
‘You’re all right. It’ll pass in a minute.’ Ignoring her meek protests, Benji pressed her back. ‘You’re all right,’ he repeated. ‘Close your eyes, rest.’
‘What …?’ Was he? she asked herself, the thought jumbled. He was. He was touching her thigh. She knew a moment of confused panic but her lids were weighty and her eyes wouldn’t open properly. ‘What are you doing?’ she croaked.
His only answer was his heavy breathing. He lifted her hand and closed her fingers around something warm and hard. She tried to pull away but his hold tightened around hers; he moved her hand up and down in rapid jerks. What was …? What was he …?
His other hand had risen to the sheltered place between her legs. Feeling his fingertips play at the down there lent her a burst of fight – eyes widening in horror, she opened her mouth to scream. Lightning fast, he clamped a hand over it before the scream could escape.
Her heart was beating so fast she could barely feel it. Peering up, her bleary gaze picked out parts of his face. Dappled moonlight filtering through the leaves distorted his shimmering features. She could only stare, mind and body locked in hazy fog as he exposed her breasts. His breathing grew to heavy pants as he fumbled at them with his hands and mouth, and still she was powerless to do a thing, too numb with confusion and shock and terror to even squeak. Neither did she cry out when once more her skirts lifted and now, his fingers probed roughly. Her screams remained deep within; not for anything could she push them past her lips.
The last thing she was aware of before blackness claimed her was the hot breath on her face and the crushing weight as her cousin climbed on top of her.
Chapter 4
‘JEWEL? CUSTOMER! WAKE up, for the love of God.’
‘Oh. Aye. Sorry.’
Esther threw her a look of disdain. ‘You need a firework up your backside this morning, lady.’
Fireworks.
Dancing, ale. Trees. Wet grass, pain …
She swallowed hard; once, twice.
‘I knew – didn’t I tell Bernard it were a mistake having thee out front?’ Esther continued, through the side of her mouth so the man perusing canes across the shop couldn’t hear. As well as their staple of umbrellas, items such as walking sticks, cigars and pipes could also be purchased at Powell & Son’s. ‘Useless, you are, that’s what.’
‘And didn’t I tell him I’d be just that: no use? I’d much rather have stopped out of the way out back or upstairs with my scrubbing. It were him what wouldn’t take nay for an answer.’
A meeting at the bank had pulled her uncle from his duties and, though her mother helped out with the serving of customers in such an event, Flora was at this minute tucked up in bed with a chest cold caught from yesterday’s damp weather. Esther, of course, wouldn’t dream of soiling her hands in the shop. Besides, it was Friday: the day she regularly partook of refreshments and gossip with several other traders’ wives in the front parlour of the bonnet-makers’ shop across town. As for Benji, where he’d disappeared to was anyone’s guess.
Disgust, fast becoming a familiar foe, slithered through her guts at the thought of her cousin. Disgust at him. Disgust at herself …
‘Look lively.’ Esther’s hiss, accompanied by a swift elbow jab to Jewel’s ribs, sliced through her thoughts. ‘Good morning, sir,’ she continued, tone now sickly sweet, face bright in smile, to the gentleman customer who had approached the counter. ‘I’m afraid I’ve been called away on an important engagement but my very competent niece, here, will see to your needs. Have a pleasant day.’ She straightened her bonnet, flashed another smile then crossed to the door – but not before shooting Jewel a warning look over her shoulder. Then she was gone, leaving a faint scent of musky perfume and the unspoken threat of what would befall her niece should she put a foot wrong in her wake.
Resisting the urge to sigh deeply, Je
wel turned her attention to the customer’s purchases. When, minutes later, the bell above the door tinkled, signalling his exit, she leaned her arms on the countertop and, dipping her head, closed her eyes.
She had to confront him.
Waking earlier in her own bed at Back Cheapside with an ache in her head that felt like a dozen cantering horses had taken up residence there, she’d been at a loss to remember the tail end of the previous night. She’d had to ask her mam when she’d come to rouse her with a cup of tea and slice of bread and pork dripping. Benji had brought her back, Flora had told her, with a tut-tut of disapproval at her inebriated state on their arrival. Good lad, he was, seeing her right home – anything could have occurred in her condition. And what would Esther say should she hear, and her good enough to give her time off yesterday to enjoy the festivities? Best that she get up and swill with cold water, dash the drink pallor from her face, and quick sharp before she made matters worse by rolling into work late. The last thing they needed was her – or the pair of them – losing their positions, for coal and rent and grub didn’t fall freely from the sky, did they? Then where would they be? Rapping at the workhouse doors, that’s what. And on …
But Flora’s words had stopped meaning anything. Slivers of memories had begun to trickle through the fog. Yet wispy as a spider’s web, they broke just as easily when she dug into them too much, leaving nothing but cold blankness.
Something had happened, she knew instinctively. Squeezing her eyes shut hard in concentration, she’d tried again to remember … something, anything. Slowly, Benji’s face had appeared through the mugginess. If the jumble of emotions she was experiencing, a mixture of confused shame and simmering panic, couldn’t shed light on events then the tenderness between her legs told her all she needed to know.
