by Emma Hornby
‘Thank you, we’d welcome that.’ He gave a grin. ‘She’s worn herself out with her games at the park – me, too, for that matter!’
Again, Jewel felt a pang of sadness that she’d missed the outing. ‘Sounds like youse had a gradely time, sir. Sorry I missed it.’
‘There’s always next time.’
Warm pleasure filled her. Before she could respond, Maxwell flashed another smile and was gone. She stood for a moment, a smile of her own touching her lips. It stayed with her as she saw to her duties. In more ways than one, she didn’t feel so bad any more.
That night, as the Birch household slept, she suppressed her own need for rest and instead reached for her shawl. After padding up the stairs and along the hall, she let herself out of the house, closing the front door quietly behind her.
The chill night was black and eerily still. Glancing about her, it seemed she was the only soul left in the world. At the south end of Mawdsley Street, the darkened spire of St Patrick’s Church loomed sharply through the shifting shadows. Mist obscuring the view in the opposite direction slowly closed in on her, swirling about her feet and legs like smoky breath, and she shivered, wishing she was tucked up in her small bed. However, this meeting needed addressing, and the sooner the better. If she left it a day, she just knew her resolve would crumble and it would turn into two, then a week, until eventually she’d talk herself out of it entirely and all the carefully thought out plans would be ruined. Shawl pulled low, head down, she stole through the emptiness towards the square.
By now, the potted shrubs used to adorn the pedestals either side of the town hall steps during the opening ceremony were gone. The long awaited lions had taken their rightful place. Poised gracefully atop their sandstone stages, they guarded their domain with military attention.
Jewel kept a watchful eye on them as she passed. They were but statues, hadn’t the power to pounce and wreak havoc, she reminded herself. Nevertheless, she involuntarily quickened her pace.
Only last year, a lion tamer was mauled to death in this very place. The travelling menagerie he belonged to had been in Bolton almost a week when, during a farewell performance before heading to nearby Bury, the unthinkable happened. The tamer, though somewhat the worse for drink, was successfully conducting his show in the den when his five male lions set upon him in a frenzied and prolonged attack. It had taken some moments for the audience to realise this wasn’t part of the act, and for applause to give way to screams. Fearing he’d be ripped to pieces, panic ensued.
Like the hundreds of other spectators that fateful evening, Jewel still recalled vividly the smell of blood and gunpowder as, despite his obvious agony, he’d kept his cool and fought back gallantly with his revolver and sword; though the blank cartridges and blunted blade had little impact on the manic animals. Likewise, the sound of crunching bone as a black-maned cat seized the showman’s only arm – his other had been but a stump, having been lost in a previous lion attack during an exhibition in Liverpool years earlier – was something she’d never forget.
By the time the townsmen had managed to beat the beasts off with pitchforks and hot pokers through the bars of the cage, and drag the tamer to safety, it was too late. Scalped, gouged and gashed, his costume and the flesh beneath it torn to shreds, he was past all aid.
Benji had clung to Jewel, sobbing, as the man’s shattered frame was carried to the nearby infirmary, where he’d died from his horrific injuries on arrival, and she’d comforted him like a big sister might.
When – why? – had the lad changed towards her? she asked herself again now with heavy regret. Just how had this night come to this?
Witness to such a dreadful demise, it was little wonder then that folk were wary of the town hall’s lifelike additions. Rumour had it that once twilight fell they might come to life and strike down without mercy anyone fool enough to keep such ungodly hours.
‘Huh. Silly talk,’ Jewel told herself, at the same time breaking into a trot just to be on the safe side.
Oxford Street and the umbrella shop on the corner drew closer and she took a few juddering breaths. As she’d surmised, the premises were in darkness. After searching the ground for a stone, she aimed at Benji’s bedroom pane. She knew the noise might alert instead Bernard, or worse, Esther, but was past caring. One way or another, she just wanted this whole thing to be over.
‘Down here,’ she hissed when the window was lifted and her cousin’s tousled head appeared.
‘Jewel?’
‘Aye, it’s me. Come down.’
He disappeared and she moved to the entrance to wait for him. Seconds later, there came the scrape of the bolts being drawn back. The door creaked open several inches. ‘Jewel?’ he asked again, as if to convince himself he wasn’t imagining her. ‘What the divil are you—?’
‘I need to talk to thee.’
‘Aye?’ His voice held a note of surprised pleasure. ‘You want to come in?’
She struggled to suppress a grimace. What was that smile of his for? Did he honestly think she was here, at this time of night, to boot, for friendly reasons? Lord, he really was deluded. Or blinded by arrogance; one of the two. She shook her head. ‘I’ll not if it’s all the same to you. Look, Benji, I need thee to do summat for me. Well, for us, really. You see—?’
‘You sure you’ll not come in?’ he cut in quietly. ‘Mam and Father are abed. We’ll not be disturbed.’
So that’s what he’s a mind for, Jewel realised, watching his small, dark eyes rake over her breasts. God above, the gall of the foul whelp!
Bubbling rage coursed through her. Grabbing a handful of his shirt front in her fist, she pulled his face close, lip curling in disgust. ‘Now you listen to me, yer vicious young swine,’ she whispered, voice like ice. ‘I’m not here the night on a pleasure visit – Christ, I’d rather be any other place on God’s green earth than here with thee.’
‘You what?’ He tried twisting from her hold, but she held on tighter. ‘What the hell’s wrong with thee? Why the nastiness? What have I done, like?’
‘What have you …? What have you done?’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘Every-bleedin’-thing, that’s what! But nowt neither, aye. Not yet at least.’ He stared back in confusion and she took a deep breath. Her thumping heart felt fit to burst and tears were threatening. ‘I need brass. Aye, that’s the top and bottom of it. And you’re going to help me find it.’
‘Brass?’
‘That’s what I said, in’t it?’
‘Brass for what?’
With her free hand, she grabbed one of his and placed it on her stomach. His fingers stiffened but he didn’t attempt to sever the contact. ‘For this. For your bloody child. I’m for getting rid and that don’t come cheap.’ The words tasted acrid on her tongue; a sob of self-loathing shuddered from her. She sounded like a monster. An evil, unfeeling, heartless devil. And yet it was the truth, all of it. What had she become? ‘There’s people … wenches what’ll take a babby in forra price. They find them new parents, ones who want and will love them, and you’ve never to worry about it again. I – we – must do it. There’s no other way.’
‘Aye well, like I’ve said already, tha don’t know it’s owt to do with me. It could be anyone’s—’
Jewel ended Benji’s speech with a back-handed slap across his mouth. Temper had her trembling from head to toe. Nostrils flared, eyes blazing, she shook him until his head wobbled on his neck. ‘Bastard, you’re nowt else! Tha knows fair well you’ve planted this life in me, have from the start. I’m done keeping my trap shut to save blowing up a storm. Done! It’s time you took a share of responsibility for your part in this, this … hell on bleedin’ earth I’ve been living for months. Nine pounds – find it and fast. For I’m warning you, lad, you’ll wish you had once I’m done with thee. If I’m to go down, I’m hauling you every step of the way along with me. Right?’
‘How much?’ The youth was panic-stricken. ‘But Jewel, where …? How …?’
‘B
eg, borrow or steal. I don’t care a fig how you find it. Just do.’
‘But Jewel—’
‘You see them?’ She jabbed a finger towards the town hall steps. ‘I’ll climb to the very top, right here and now, and scream our guilt to the bloody stars unless you agree. I’ll waken every man, woman and child – including Uncle Bernard and Aunt Esther – and they’ll all hear about it, everyone. You want that, d’you?’
The quaver in his response belied the nonchalant lift of his chin. ‘You’d not.’
‘Aye? Try me. Take a long look at me – I’ve nowt left to lose, lad. So just you think on that.’
After a charged silence, Benji’s shoulders sagged. He dragged a hand through his hair. ‘Right, all bloody right. If you keep quiet ’til April, I’ll ask permission to wed thee. I’ll be sixteen, then, won’t I? Mind, I’m not promising nowt; we’ll have to see what Mam makes of it.’ He folded his arms with a petulant pout. ‘That do thee? Happy now, you spiteful cow, yer?’
Utter incredulousness chased away a response. For a full minute, Jewel could only gaze at him in dumb silence. He was truly demented, had to be. She’d heard it whispered over the years that a well-to-do cousin of his mother’s – Caroline, was it? – had been committed to an asylum. Clearly, madness ran through Esther’s bloodline and she’d passed it on to her son. Benji couldn’t be right in the head if he thought for a single moment she desired to wed him. It was almost as if he believed she’d planned this from the off to snare him. Mother of God, surely not? Surely she’d misheard?
‘Is it a deal, then?’
‘You’re serious, ain’t yer? I don’t want to wed thee. Not now, not ever!’
‘Why not?’ His voice had risen to a child-like whine. ‘And what’s up with me, then?’
Feeling her anger resurfacing, she forced her hands to her sides before she lost control and smacked the snivelling sod’s face black and blue. In clear, concise terms she hoped he’d understand, she repeated slowly, ‘Nine pounds, Benji. Find it, fast, else I’ll do for you.’ And she meant it, too.
Leaving her threat to sink in, she turned and darted through the darkness back to Mawdsley Street.
Would he comply?
Pray be to God, time would soon tell.
*
To Jewel’s great surprise, tell it did – the very next morning, in fact.
‘There you are.’
Busy making Roland’s bed whilst keeping an eye to Constance playing quietly at her feet, she hadn’t heard the knock at the front door, nor Maxwell entering his son’s room to deliver the message. She jumped then held a hand to her heart, smiling. However, her employer didn’t return the smile. ‘Is there a problem, sir?’
‘There’s a young fellow outside asking to see you.’
He was surveying her with a less than pleased expression and she blushed scarlet. This was totally improper; what must he think? Who on earth …? ‘A fella, sir?’ she asked.
‘He gave his name as Benji.’
The colour drained from her face then rushed back again at a dizzying speed, leaving her light-headed. She nodded. ‘Do I have permission to speak with him? Just forra minute or two? Benji’s my cousin, sir.’
‘Oh. I see.’ Maxwell’s expression slowly changed. His brow cleared and his mouth softened. He cleared his throat. ‘Of course. Take as long as you need.’
‘Ta, thanks.’ Though relieved he now saw the visit as innocent – he and Bernard were but acquaintances, after all; there was no reason why he should know Benji’s identity – still her colour crept up further with shame. If only you knew. Avoiding his eye, she slipped from the bedroom and hurried down the stairs.
Benji greeted her with a scowl but, before he could speak, she held a finger to her lips. ‘Not here. Come on.’ She led him to the end of the street, where, satisfied they wouldn’t be overheard, she turned to face him. ‘I must say, I didn’t expect to see thee so soon. D’you have it? The brass?’
‘Nay.’
‘But …’ She frowned in confusion. ‘We had a deal—’
‘I agreed to nowt. You thought yer could bully me last night but you were wrong. I’ve told Mam and Father everything, about all your lies – and the rest.’ He jerked his head to her stomach. ‘You’re for it now, our Jewel.’
A whooshing sound filled her ears; she couldn’t think, breathe. She swung her head in horror-filled disbelief. ‘Nay …’
‘Aye. So, you see, this ends here. Just you leave me alone, you hear?’
As she watched him – it was all she could do; her voice had deserted her – she noticed a flicker of something behind his eyes and her every nerve sparked with overwhelming relief. The uncertainty in their dark depths was undeniable. He was lying. Thank you, Lord … ‘Nice try. You’re too much of a spineless dog to tell.’ She was gratified to see his face fall in disappointment and, again, she thanked God she’d been right. ‘This is just your lame attempt to slither out of trouble. Trouble you helped create, remember?’
‘It’s not. I, I did tell—’
‘Liar.’
‘Bitch!’ he shot back, looking as though he might cry and reminding Jewel again how young and immature he was.
‘This ain’t going away, Benji. Find that bloody brass or so help me …’ Shaking her head, she let her tone drop to a growl. ‘Just find it. Else your mam and yer father shall know what’s what, all right. Only it’ll be me what does the telling – aye, and for real.’
When he’d stormed off, she took some deep breaths to regain her composure then returned to the house. Inside, she found Maxwell waiting for her in the hall with his daughter. Her blush returned instantly – surely he could sense her guilt? – and though it was a struggle, she brought a smile to her face. ‘I’ll get back to my duties now, sir—’
‘He wasn’t bearing bad tidings, I hope? Your family are well?’
‘Oh, nay. All’s fine.’ She smiled again whilst in her mind praying he wouldn’t probe further.
‘That’s good.’ He nodded then asked, ‘You and your cousin are quite close?’
‘Nay, we ain’t.’ She cursed herself inwardly, had fired back her response sharper than she’d intended. ‘What I mean is … Well, not really, sir.’
‘It’s just that I recall you being in good spirits the last time I saw you both together. I simply assumed …’
What?
‘Of course,’ continued Maxwell, ‘I should have recognised him when I opened the door as being the lad in your company at the park – although I didn’t realise he was your cousin. Alas, my memory isn’t what it was. Cursed old age.’
This time, the word was given life: ‘What?’ she murmured, cutting off Maxwell’s chuckle.
‘My age—’
‘Not that. What was it you said about the park?’
‘The day of the town hall opening. I saw you dancing together at the park.’ A small frown creased his brow. ‘Jewel, are you all right? Your recent bout of illness hasn’t returned?’
She shook her head. It was true. Besides a little muscle achiness and a sore throat, she was back to her normal self. It was another ailment altogether that held her in its grip now: she felt stomach-churningly sick with dread. She thought she’d seen Maxwell there that fateful night – he’d seen them, too? Just how much? What exactly had he witnessed? ‘Sir, I …’
‘Yes?’
‘I …’ Her breathing was heavy.
‘I think I know what’s bothering you, Jewel.’ Maxwell’s voice, much to her bewilderment, held a hint of laughter. ‘Please, don’t be embarrassed. It was a special occasion, after all. To be honest, I myself partook of more than I should have that night. The drink,’ he explained with a conspicuous wink when she frowned in puzzlement. ‘You were somewhat merry.’
She stared hard at her feet. ‘Aye. Benji and me … We both were.’
‘You more so by the night’s end, I suspect.’
Jewel’s frown returned. She glanced back up questioningly.
‘I spo
tted your cousin discreetly pour his drink on to the grass.’ Again, Maxwell winked. ‘I believe he probably began to feel the effects before you did and wanted to save face. After all, not many lads would be willing to admit otherwise – particularly when up against a member of the fairer sex – would they?’
The universe seemed to hold its breath. Thoughts crashed and exploded through Jewel’s brain. Then: ‘Aye. You’re likely right there. Daft lad.’ She smiled with a roll of her eyes. Then, holding out her arms, she took Constance from him and moved towards the stairs. ‘Well, I’d best get on with my work, sir.’
‘Yes, of course. I, too, must get going to the bank.’
‘I’ll see thee this evening, sir.’ A last smile at him over her shoulder and she was free to flee.
As with her easy response to her employer’s shattering revelation, it took every ounce of will and self-control she possessed to make it back to Roland’s room without breaking down. Her legs shook, her chest throbbed, and she wanted nothing more than to howl her throat raw. Instead, she returned the toddler to her games and curled into a ball on the floor beside her.
He poured away the majority all night, I just know it. He wasn’t inebriated as he claims. His thinking wasn’t muddled by drink like mine at all. He plied me with ale after ale whilst all the time remaining fully conscious himself. He planned it. He lured me to those trees, knowing exactly what was to come. He knew I was past refusing. He had me believe it was consensual. He didn’t care. He raped me. He raped me. He raped me …
‘Benji raped me.’
Once the words were forced through her lips, the screams inside her head halted.
‘Benji raped me,’ she said again to the blue carpet.
Trickling from her scorching brain to her toes, an arctic calm encased her. She sat up, folded her hands in her lap.
Dry-eyed, she watched the clock’s journey to the eleventh hour and the nursemaid’s arrival to take over Constance’s care.
Chapter 12
‘BY, LASS, I’M pleased to see thee. You’re looking well.’
Jewel stared at her uncle without seeing him. Her being was focused on but one thing: ‘Where’s Benji?’
