by Emma Hornby
‘He’s upstairs. ’Ere, how’s your new position going?’ added Bernard, smiling. ‘Mr Birch and his lot treating thee well, I hope?’
She nodded. Then fixing her gaze on the door behind the counter that led to the Powells’ living quarters, she crossed the shop floor.
‘Aye, go on. You nip up and see the lad, then. I’d be grateful to thee if you’d brew a pot whilst you’re up there, lass. We’ll have a sup, eh, afore you leave?’
This time, Jewel didn’t respond. Pace and countenance controlled, she ascended the narrow stairs.
At her entrance, Benji looked up from the table. Surprise, swiftly followed by suspicion, passed over his face. He returned the hunk of cake he’d been eating to his plate and swept away crumbs from his chin with his sleeve. Folding his arms, he glared at her. ‘What you doing here?’
Jewel closed the door quietly and made her way towards him.
‘Well?’ Though he tried to mask it with a scowl, worry now shadowed the youth’s florid face at her unsettling silence. ‘Oi, you deaf or summat?’
She paused in front of him and flattened her palms on the tabletop. Tilting her head, she surveyed him, letting her eyes travel down, down, until they settled on his crotch. Pure disgust rolled through her guts but she kept her tone mild: ‘Give it to me, Benji.’
‘Eh?’
‘Give it to me,’ she repeated, reaching down to cup the private area and swallowing bile when he began to harden instantly. ‘Let me see.’
He laughed in shock and embarrassment. ‘Jewel, what—?’
‘Shh.’
‘But …’ A low moan chased away his half-hearted protest as she undid his trousers and extracted his member.
She pulled at it lightly, indicating he should stand, and he obeyed without question. Nor did he say a word when she motioned for him to lie on the rug by the fire. Passive as a lamb, he did as she bid and she straddled him, her hold still fixed on him.
When his hands moved behind her to fondle her buttocks, she avoided eye contact lest he saw the choking loathing she was struggling to contain. Slipping her free hand inside her apron pocket, she closed her fingers around the metal handles and slowly took out the pair of large scissors she’d brought along from the house. Face void of emotion, she held them aloft.
Benji stared at the instrument but his expression didn’t change. Dumb with confusion, he stared from them to her and back again in silence.
In one swift movement, Jewel positioned his penis between the scissors’ cold blades and tightened just enough that he couldn’t move. Finally, she lifted her hate-filled gaze to his. ‘You forced yourself on me that night, didn’t you?’ she asked in a murmur.
The colour had drained from his face. He tried to shift his body but her weight on his legs prevented him. Then she closed the scissors’ handles slightly, letting the blades bite into his soft flesh, and he went rigid.
‘You have to pay. You understand that, right?’
‘Jewel.’ His breathing came in short gasps. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking ab—’
‘Aye, tha does.’
‘I didn’t know what I were doing. I were drunk is all—’
‘You weren’t, though, were yer?’ She tightened her hold a little more. ‘You lied. You got me skenning on purpose, planned it from the off. You violated me. You raped me.’
‘Nay—’
‘You’ve ruined my life. Now, I’m going to ruin yours by ensuring you never get to hurt another lass with this thing again.’
Petrified tears were coursing down his face. ‘Please, don’t. I’m sorry.’
‘So.’ Her lips drew back in a snarl. ‘You admit it?’
On a noisy sob, he nodded. ‘I’m sorry,’ he blubbered again.
Could she really do it? Her eyes flicked to his imprisoned genital. She’d intended to on the walk here, there was no denying it. Never in her life had her temper been up as much, or her mind filled with such murder as it had been then. However, now, finally vindicated, she didn’t know what to feel. Rather than stoke the flames of fury, his admission had quelled them instead and she hadn’t a clue what to do, hadn’t expected this at all.
‘I’ve got the brass, just like you asked. It’s here, in my jacket. Feel.’
Frowning, she patted his pocket. Sure enough, the jingle of coins greeted her.
‘I were going to fetch it round to thee later. I were, ’onest.’
‘It don’t make everything all right, though, does it?’ she spat, leaning in close. ‘It won’t change what you’ve done, what you’ve put me through …’
‘I’ll tell you a secret if you let me go.’
The unexpected announcement momentarily threw her. She cocked her head, eyes narrowed.
Seeing he had her attention, Benji’s eyes widened with hope. He licked his lips with an eager nod. ‘Promise you’ll let me be?’
Though aware he was clutching at straws, was desperate to distract her attention from the matter in hand, from his guilt, she could tell he did have knowledge of something she didn’t. But what?
‘You can’t tell a soul I’ve told you, mind. You must keep it to yourself.’
Curiosity got the better of her. She nodded.
‘Your mam ain’t your mam.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘It’s the truth. I’ve heard whispers of it over the years.’
‘Whose whispers?’ He didn’t answer and she shook her head. He really was grasping at anything to wriggle free from this. But what an absurd thing to make up. How did his warped mind work at all? ‘Fool,’ she said, releasing him and returning the scissors to her apron before shifting off him and rising to her feet.
Benji clutched his groin protectively. His relief was tangible. He closed his eyes, his breathing heavy.
‘The brass.’ Jewel held out a hand and her cousin quickly fumbled for the gold sovereigns and dropped them into her palm. She placed them with the scissors and headed for the door, knowing not whence he’d acquired them and caring less. He owed her – more so after today. It was a small price to pay for all he’d done, as well as walking from this with all his body parts intact.
‘Jewel?’
She glanced over her shoulder.
‘I am sorry, you know.’
‘Sorry tha got found out.’
With that, she left the room and made her way back down to the shop. To her relief, her uncle was busy tending to a customer and she was able to slip away without further conversation.
Oddly, she felt lighter of mind on the walk back to Mawdsley Street. It was as if the truth of that horrid night had set her free, though she was incapable of understanding why. Surely the new-found knowledge should have made her feel worse, and yet it didn’t. Perhaps it was having proof that she wasn’t a loose piece, as she’d grown to view herself over the months, that explained her feelings. She’d berated herself continually, and now that could stop, couldn’t it? She was blameless, had been from the start. The relief this carried was like a balm to her soul. She wasn’t foul or wicked or wrong. She’d been wronged. The realisation was comforting.
Drawing level with Maria’s residence, Jewel saw her friend cleaning the inside of the windows and slowed her pace, hoping to catch her attention. She did, and lifting her hand made the money sign by rubbing her index and middle finger against her thumb, then patted her apron pocket. Catching her meaning, Maria gave her a thumbs-up.
Fortunately, her short absence had gone undetected and, slipping inside and back to her kitchen, Jewel busied herself with work. All the while, she rehearsed in her mind the conversation she must have later with her employer regarding her planned departure. Would he be disappointed, angry? Would he agree to Maria’s sister taking over her duties until she returned? Would she even have a position to return to afterwards? As for breaking the news to her mother … Well. She’d tackle that aspect when the time came.
‘Sir? I’d like to speak with thee, if you can spare a minute or two of your t
ime?’
Seated at his desk in the firelit drawing room, Maxwell looked up from his papers. ‘Jewel.’ A genuine smile touched his mouth. ‘Of course. Come in.’
The family had finished the evening meal some time ago. Constance had been put to bed and Roland had gone out; Jewel had been awaiting his departure as her cue to seek out his father. She closed the door and stood facing him, fingers plucking nervously at each other.
‘To be honest with you, your presence is a welcome distraction.’ Maxwell motioned to the desktop then rubbed his tired eyes. ‘Cooped up in a stuffy office all day drawing figures, the last thing I desire of an evening is to do the same at home. Alas, someone has to. As senior bank clerk, that must naturally fall to me.’
Tasked with overseeing the clerks below him, dealing with rich and important clients, the vast sums of money entrusted to his keeping … Jewel eyed him with more than a little awe. She couldn’t have imagined anything worse, was useless when it came to numbers. What a responsibility he had – and what challenging work that entailed. She bit her lip guiltily, regretting having disturbed him.
‘What I have to say can wait, sir, if you’re busy—’
Lifting his hand, he cut her off. ‘Not at all.’
‘Well, it’s like this. Mam sent word earlier that an owd aunt of hers has taken ill. She wants me to go to her, nurse her a while.’
‘I see. When?’
‘Tomorrow, sir.’
‘Tomorrow?’
She nodded. After all, she didn’t see the point of drawing this out. The sooner the matter was dealt with, the better.
‘Is this what your cousin came to see you about this morning?’
Benji assaulted her mind. The sickening feel of him, the scissors, his eyes wide with terror … Swallowing hard, she quickly pushed the images away. ‘Aye. Aye, that’s right. It didn’t seem the right time to tell thee earlier, what with you on your way to work.’ She lifted her eyes to gauge his reaction in his, but he’d lowered his gaze, was staring at his steepled hands. ‘I’ll not leave thee in the lurch, sir. A friend of mine says her sister will take on my duties in my absence – if you’re in agreement, of course. She’s a respectable lass; trustworthy, hardworking—’
‘How long will you be gone?’ His words were quiet, flat.
‘A few months is likely.’
‘A few …? There’s no one else?’
‘Nay, sir. We’re all the wench has. And Mam hasn’t the strength for it she once had, would wear herself out and become ill herself should she take on the task.’
‘Then of course you must.’
‘Aye?’
Maxwell nodded. ‘I insist.’
‘And my job, sir …?’
‘Will be here waiting for you.’
His goodness cut her to the quick. Her wretched deceit seared further. Sudden tears filled her eyes. Turning, she made for the door.
‘Jewel?’
‘Aye, sir?’
‘You will return … won’t you?’ He’d risen from his chair. Hands hanging loosely by his sides, his stare was full of expectancy.
An overwhelming urge to run to him, to throw her arms about his neck and never let go, filled her. ‘Just as soon as I’m able,’ she said earnestly. ‘You have my word.’
In the ensuing silence, Maxwell took a step towards her. As though by some unspoken instruction, she did likewise.
‘I – that is, we … shall miss you.’
‘And I you, sir.’
And she meant it, with every whisper of her heart.
Chapter 13
VOICE CRACKING, MARIA clung to Jewel. ‘You send word should you need me, d’you hear?’
‘I hear.’
‘And don’t you fret. That sister of mine shall take sound care of your Mr Birch and his kin.’
‘You’ll remember to call in on Mam when you can, won’t you, Maria? Check she’s well?’
‘Course, aye.’
Again, the friends embraced tightly.
‘Ta, thanks. For everything,’ Jewel told her as they drew apart, her own cheeks wet with tears.
‘Eeh, lass.’ Despite the maid’s efforts to keep a brave face, it creased. ‘Take care.’
‘Oh, Maria, I am frightened,’ she admitted, her own resolve wavering in turn. ‘What if summat should go wrong—?’
‘Now you mustn’t think like that.’ Reverting to her brusque self, Maria wagged a finger. ‘Nowt shall, nay. You’ll see. You’ll be back home where you belong in no time at all.’
And if I’m not? If something should go awry? she wanted to press, fighting the urge to grasp Maria and shake the answers from her. Things could and did. Any number of women the world over died daily from childbearing. Why should she be different?
Suppose the widow from the newspaper, whose acquaintance she was soon to make, wasn’t as capable as they assumed; what, then? On nothing but blind trust, she was putting her life in the hands of a complete stranger. God above, how had it come to this? Could she really go through with it?
I have no choice. The response tapped at her mind in an instant. I must.
Lifting her chin bravely, she bid Maria farewell. Forcing herself not to look back at the house she’d come to regard as home, she set off on the fifteen-minute walk to Lum Street where, God willing, she was to hunker down to see this nightmare period through. That it was in quite close proximity didn’t unduly worry her. Once settled, she’d be sure not to leave the house under any circumstances so wasn’t at risk of encountering anyone she knew.
She’d purposely turned right, taking the side streets to avoid Back Cheapside and Town Hall Square – and further heartache. Reaching Crown Street, she breathed a little more easily. She didn’t trust herself not to break down if she had to suffer another goodbye with her mother. Last night’s had been difficult enough.
The memory of Flora’s sad eyes flashed in her mind afresh and Jewel sighed. After giving his permission, Maxwell had sent her to inform her mother – and so the next round of lies had been spun. She’d put to Jewel the same questions he had: ‘When will you go and for how long? Several months? Oh, lass, as much as that?’ Jewel had done her utmost to play the length of time down, telling her it would pass before they knew it, though it had done little to ease her mother’s upset.
‘Can’t someone else do it? It’s nice and all that Mr Birch, insisting he wants someone he knows and trusts to nurse his sister back to health, thought of thee … but still … Is there really no one else?’ Jewel had shaken her head and her mother had done likewise, with dull acceptance. ‘Their lot click their fingers and we beneath them jump, aye. I know, lass, I get it – owt forra quiet life. By, but I’ll miss thee.’
‘And I’ll miss you,’ Jewel whispered to herself now as she dragged her feet, head down. ‘More than you could ever know.’
When Benji flitted into her thoughts she instantly pushed him away. She didn’t want to dwell on him; not now, not ever again. With her uncle, she did likewise, though for widely differing reasons. It was clearly his money paying for this – the knowledge fed her guilt by the hour. Bernard was a good man, didn’t deserve to suffer any of this.
The next image, on the other hand, refused to leave her. And her attempt to scatter this one was feeble at best.
Maxwell had left for work this morning without saying goodbye. Though he’d wished her well last night before retiring to bed, it wasn’t the same and she couldn’t help but feel upset. She thought he would have at least sent her on her way with a kind word or two – though his presence alone, just one last look at him, would have been enough, something she could have taken with her to look back on over the coming months. Then again, why would he? How could he know what was in her head? She didn’t even understand these feelings of hers herself.
She’d consoled herself instead with a hug from Constance, whom she knew she would miss just as much. Even Roland, who had offered a warm farewell, she felt a pang at leaving. She really had taken the Birches to her he
art, had come to regard them almost as a second family. Whether that was sensible, however, remained to be seen. What was she to them, after all, but a paid skivvy? And now, not even that.
As Jewel emerged from Bow Street and on to Folds Road, her emotions were once more in disarray – though, now, fear overrode all else. She paused to gather her nerves. Beyond Mill Hill’s two mills in the distance lay the sprawling moors and meadows of Tonge and Breightmet, and she was tempted to continue past approaching Lum Street and all that went with it. Yet what could other districts offer her? Where would she go, and to whom? She’d just left all she knew and loved behind her. There was no one else. She forced herself onward.
A light drizzle had started up, dulling further an early sky already shrouded in grey from the multitude of surrounding factories’ spewing chimneys. She drew her shawl closer around her. Minutes later, heart hammering, she turned the corner of what would hopefully be her temporary home.
Here, she halted again and glanced along the grim-coloured street, scanning the stretch of beer houses, shops and dwellings for one number in particular. When she spotted it, the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. It appeared half-decent; more so, in fact. The step was scrubbed, the windows and curtains beyond them clean. A tidy-looking abode by all accounts – certainly better than she’d dared hope.
Jewel checked inside the rough canvas bag she carried. Nestled amongst the few items of clothing was a cloth pouch which held the precious coins. She nodded. Everything was set. All that was left to do now was to knock …
After building up courage with a few shuddering breaths, she did just that.
‘What can I do you for?’
Tall and thin, dark hair pulled back into a tight bun and darker eyes narrowed questioningly, the woman who answered the door folded her arms. Like her home, she, too, was neat and clean. Though the greeting wasn’t unfriendly, she possessed an assured, somewhat formidable air. Jewel’s anxiety heightened further.
‘You left an advertisement in the Bolton Evening News,’ she stammered. ‘I, I’m in need of your services, like.’
