by Gracie Hart
Mary-Anne got up from her chair and added a few more lumps of coal to the fire. ‘I’ll take a look around and go for dinner and then I’ll let you know what I think.’
The old woman had closed her eyes. Mary-Anne decided not to say anything more until dinner had been brought to her. Ma Fletcher was determined for her to stay, but did she really want to?
Mary-Anne walked from room to room in the large rambling house. Despite the dark, she could see with growing amazement that it was packed with the best quality furniture and pottery, the likes of which she had never seen before. The old woman was clearly worth a small fortune. Mary-Anne wandered around, opening the heavy draped curtains to let the light in. Layers of dust were on everything, but once washed and cleaned the house would reveal its true wealth. Mary-Anne sighed and looked out of the first bedroom window at the cobbled street below, a hundred thoughts running through her mind. Should she take up the offer of Ma Fletcher and come to live with her? Was she right to tell her to hunt down William, rather than seeking her revenge directly on Edmund Ellershaw? Her visit to the old woman had shown her a new path to get even with the Ellershaws, and now she was confused. Mary-Anne pulled her skirts up and tripped downstairs. Ma Fletcher was asleep in her chair, so she quietly took the few coppers on the dresser for her dinner.
She left the house and walked down to the end of Headingley Lane, making her way to the Packhorse Inn. She looked up at the squat square building with wooden shutters at its windows and a board in the centre of the upstairs windows depicting pack horses and their owners. Mary-Anne had never been inside before, but she knew that in years past it had had a reputation for its rough and ready drinkers. She hesitated for a second, then pushed open the heavy oak door and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light within it. In the corner was a group of men playing dominoes and leaning on the bar were two women, their bodices cut low, revealing their best assets.
‘Well, what can I do for you?’ The landlord took in Mary-Anne’s fine clothes, grinning as he did so at the two rough-looking women.
‘Mrs Fletcher has sent me for her dinner. Can I have an extra bowl as I’ll be eating with her today.’
‘So she’s been good enough to save my lad’s legs today? Got you doing her dirty work for her, has she, the old crone? Tell her I’m still waiting for an answer to my offer for that house of hers and its contents, she’ll not get a fairer offer and I’d look after her and all, make sure she wasn’t on her own and had company.’ Benjamin Jubb reached for two soup bowls and made his way to the open fire where a huge black pot was suspended over the fire’s flames. The smell of simmering bones and veg filled the air and Mary-Anne watched in horror as he rubbed the edges of the soup bowl with the dirtiest cloth she had ever seen after he slopped the laded soup over the sides.
‘She don’t want to be staying there on her own,’ the landlord continued. ‘You never know what could happen one dark night and then where would she be? Dead and nobody knowing anything was wrong. Best she sells to me and to be put where she belongs.’
Jubb passed the bowls to Mary-Anne and held out his hand for the money in payment.
‘You mean you want to take advantage of her and rob her blind? Put her in the workhouse so that you can claim all? Well, you needn’t worry about her any more. This will be the last broth we will be having from you. I’ll be looking after Mrs Fletcher from now on as I’ll be staying with her.’ Mary-Anne placed the coppers into the scowling landlord’s hand. ‘I’ll pass on your regards to her. Good day.’ She balanced the two bowls of broth and pushed the inn’s door open with her hip.
‘You’ll not last long, she’s a cantankerous old bag. You’ll see. She’s had me running after her like an idiot, she owes me,’ Benjamin Jubb yelled after her as she made her way down the street. ‘The old bag will be begging for me to buy that house of hers when you’ve left her, and leave you will.’
Mary-Anne made her way to Ma Fletcher’s, where she put the broth down on the table and pulled off her shawl.
‘So you’re back. What’s that rogue Jubb got to say for himself? Is he still after my house? I might have lost my legs but I’ve not lost my marbles. A pitiful offer he made, and I know what he’d do with me once I’d signed my home away. There’s some bread in the pantry and spoons are in the kitchen table drawer.’ Ma Fletcher looked up at Mary-Anne. ‘Happen he’s helped make your mind up for you.’
‘I don’t think he’s a good man, you want to be careful.’ Mary-Anne put some more coal on the fire and then placed a little table between Ma Fletcher and her chair before putting the broth and bread on the table in front of them. ‘I don’t like the way he spoke to me. I always thought that the Packhorse was a rough place, but I know it is now.’
Ma Fletcher sipped her broth slowly with trembling hands, dunking her bread in and slurping it up. ‘I know the likes of Jubb. You’ve got to use him as much as he uses you. Have you decided then, are you coming to live with me? You can bring your lass if you want to.’
‘It’s the best offer I’ve had since I came back. I don’t want to be under my sister’s feet, her world has changed since I left. I’ll leave Victoria at Aireville Mansions as well. Eliza has been more of a mother to her than I’ve ever been. Besides, I’m going to be busy for the next few weeks, making sure your home is back up to scratch and then I’ll look at making my acquaintance once again with William Ellershaw, because as you say he is the one with the money. It will give Edmund something to worry about. Along with Eliza and Victoria being friendly with Grace and his youngest son, he’ll think his world is going to the dogs.’
‘Yes, I heard tell your Victoria was sweet on George. You want to watch that.’
‘She’s too young for him to be a bother,’ Mary-Anne reassured her. ‘Besides, he seems to treat her like a pet monkey more than anything. Whereas William and I, well, that is a different matter.’ Mary-Anne looked up from her broth and grinned.
‘Good lass. I knew you’d see the sense in it. You take the bedroom at the front, it’s the best one. It’ll need airing but it gets all the morning sun.’ Ma Fletcher sat back and sighed. ‘I sleep down here these days so you don’t have to worry about taking my room. And between us, we’ll sort out the Ellershaws. That bloody Judd can whistle for my house, I’ll be looked after now.’
‘Well, if he’s anything like his broth, he hasn’t much substance. It tastes more like washing-up water than beef broth. I’ll move in tomorrow but right this minute I’m going to get away. I was going to call in and see Aunt Patsy and Uncle Mick but Eliza told me that they have gone to Ireland.’
‘Aye, they moved, lass. Mick had enough of the gossips and the filth. The Borough Council is about to pull them slums down, they’ve had enough of the complaints made about the stench coming up the sewers from Pounders Court.’ Ma Fletcher looked at the sadness that clouded Mary-Anne’s face. ‘She’ll be better over in Ireland, the grass is always green over there and Mick will look after her.’
Mary-Anne sighed. ‘Uncle Mick is a good enough bloke but he can’t look after himself, let alone Aunt Patsy. I thought she would at least have given Eliza their address before they left or let her know when they had got settled.’
‘Had a row, did they? Aye, well, there is nothing stranger than families, you should know that. I’ll see you in the morning, then. Just bank the fire up and then it will nearly last me the rest of the day.’ Ma Fletcher pointed at the coal scuttle and Mary-Anne put a good helping of coal on the fire. ‘You’ll not regret your decision. We are like peas in a pod, me and you. Play your cards right, lass, and maybe I’ll leave you something in my will. Though if you play that that William Ellershaw right, you might not need it. And don’t you feel sorry for that wife of his, he’s already made her half-mad, She was too weak for him, not like you. You know what you want now. America might not have been good to you but it certainly has toughened you up. Now, make sure you go and get it, you know what is yours and I will stand by you no matter what.’ Ma Fletcher s
at back in her chair and watched as Mary-Anne took the bowls away and moved the small table back to its place. ‘It’s time to make folk take notice and realise that the Ellershaws are nothing but a bad stench in the air.’
Mary-Anne said her goodbyes to Ma Fletcher and closed the door behind her. She was curious to learn why Ma hated the family as much as she did, but she could wait for the answer. In the meantime, that hate would unite them in a common purpose and drive them onwards to change both their lives.
Chapter 11
Mary-Anne stood outside the doorway of her sister’s shop and looked at the window display. The windows were filled with the finest of clothes, displayed beautifully on mannequins that must have cost a small fortune to buy. Hats with feathers and flowers of all colours adorned their heads, while matching velvet gloves were on their wooden hands. It truly was the most tempting shop window for the fashionable ladies of Leeds. Eliza had come a long way from the dirty little lean-to that used to be their workplace in Woodlesford, the only legacy their father had left them.
This grand place was owned by Grace Ellershaw, with Eliza’s name over the doorway announcing that she was the designer and seamstress and also acknowledging that she now owned a small part of the business, but Eliza had not progressed all that far, Mary-Anne thought, apart from becoming known for her designs and getting a regular income from Grace Ellershaw. After all, Grace was still in charge.
Mary-Anne checked her reflection in the shop’s window and plucked up the courage to enter the wonderful emporium.
‘Good afternoon, madam, may I be of assistance?’ A pretty blonde-haired girl pounced, smiling politely as she looked her latest customer up and down, deciding what the tall, beautiful auburn-haired woman in front of her could be tempted to buy.
‘I’d like to see Miss Wild, if I may?’
‘Certainly, madam, but she might be busy. Would you like to make an appointment or if you have a specific request I might be able to help you?’ A dry smile came over her face, a smile that Mary-Anne suspected she’d used plenty of times in order to deter customers.
‘It is of a personal nature that I need to see Eliza—Miss Wild. She knows that I am calling in on her this afternoon.’ The young girl’s smile faltered but she urged her to follow her through the shop. Mary-Anne walked tall, her long black coat and laced-up high-heel boots giving her the graceful look of a much younger woman as she climbed the stairs to Eliza’s inner sanctum. Below her on the shop floor were ladies looking through the latest materials, adornments and perfumes, helped by numerous staff that had all been trained on how to pamper the most difficult of customers.
Her guide knocked on the oak door of Eliza’s fitting room and office, ‘There’s a lady here to see you, ma’am. She says you are expecting her.’ The young girl stepped to one side and let Mary-Anne sweep past her.
‘Mary-Anne, you came! Well, what do you think? Go on, tell me. It’s a lot different from when we worked together.’ Mary-Anne sat herself in a chair and grinned at her sister. The shop girl, realising that the visitor was expected, made herself scarce. ‘Bloody hell, Eliza, talk about grand! I didn’t think I was going to get to see you, with the guard dog in place looking after you.’
‘That’s just Lizzie. She makes sure I’m not disturbed by some of the empty-headed women with nothing else better to do than saying they have spoken to me and had a personal fitting even though they don’t intend buying anything. But what do you think of the shop, isn’t it everything we ever dreamed of?’ Eliza looked at her sister who was clearly taking note of all the materials, lace and cotton stacked on the shelves of the upstairs office.
‘Well, you’ve certainly landed on your feet. I’m beginning to wonder why I disappeared to America when I could perhaps have been part of all this.’ Mary-Anne gave her sister a smile, hiding her true feelings about her living in Grace Ellershaw’s pocket.
‘It’s taken time and patience to get as well known and as well respected as this, and I couldn’t have done any of it without Grace. Without her I’d be back in the gutter.’
‘If I hadn’t just left Ma Fletcher’s I would be well and truly jealous, but as it stands, I’ve found a backer of my own. We’ve both got to make the best of what we have got and I aim to do that, now I have the old girl on my side.’ Mary-Anne grinned at her sister.
‘Why, what are you on about, Mary-Anne? I know that look on your face, you are scheming again!’
‘Me? I’d never do anything like that. Ma Fletcher, bless her, has said as long as I look after her I can have the run of her home. So, I’m moving in with her in the morning.’
‘What about Victoria, is she to go with you?’ Eliza’s face couldn’t help but betray her emotions. ‘Have you thought about her?’
‘When it comes to Victoria, I think she will be better staying with you. She’s been brought up more of a lady than I could ever have raised her. She’d be broken-hearted to leave you.’ Mary-Anne smiled at her sister’s obvious relief.
‘But why is Ma Fletcher being so kind? She never used to be. And why should she offer all that on a plate to you? We are nothing to her.’
‘She’s desperate for someone to care for her and … let’s just say we have a lot in common. Besides, I’ve got plans that won’t involve Victoria and I don’t want her being under my feet.’
‘You’ve not changed, have you? Always thinking of yourself. In fact, I think you are worse. You flit into Victoria’s life, expecting her to treat you with love and kindness, and then, days later, you desert her. The poor girl will not know how to feel. How am I to explain that you are leaving her behind again?’
‘It’s because of Victoria that I am doing this. I need something behind me if I am ever to be able to support her and be a proper mother to her. Ma Fletcher is giving me that chance and I’m going to take it. Everyone might remember her as an old, dirty market trader, but her house alone is worth a small fortune and her support will enable me to make myself known once more to William Ellershaw. William was once attracted to me, perhaps he will be again and from what I hear, he is the one with money and power. I’ll admit I was wrong to encourage Victoria’s friendship with George Ellershaw. I looked at his fondness for Victoria as a way to seek revenge. But now I have realised that I couldn’t abide my sweet Victoria ending up broken-hearted. When the right time comes, I will tell her who her true father is and why she cannot be anything more than friends with George.’ Mary-Anne folded her hands and looked at her sister.
‘You can’t do that to yourself. William Ellershaw is married. He moves in high society, even Grace has very little to do with him now he has inherited most of his grandfather’s mills. Everyone knows that he’s almost as bad as his father – Grace suspects he has a mistress for his pleasure. Don’t even think of going near him, Mary-Anne. Just look after Ma Fletcher, keep your head down and make the most of your life. And if you must tell Victoria who her father is, tell her sooner rather than later. She already idolises George and I can see a heartache afoot.’
‘But don’t you see it is William who is the weak one in the Ellershaw family? That empty-headed Priscilla should never have been his wife. It was his grandfather who made him marry her. I remember when he had eyes for me and, well, perhaps he still has.’ Mary-Anne grinned. ‘And now he has money, a lot of money, and it would cause no end of pain to his bastard of a father if he was to court me.’
‘Oh, Mary-Anne, you weave a web full of hurt and deceit. I think your years away from home have made you brood over things that you should accept and move on from.’
Mary-Anne stood up. ‘Easy for you to say when it wasn’t you he took advantage of. And have you forgotten what our mother endured at Edmund Ellershaw’s hands? How I found her dying in the privy because of him? Perhaps all of these fine trappings have helped you to forget.’
‘I’ve forgotten none of that. Like you, I can never forgive him.’ Eliza looked up at her sister. ‘But I’m my own woman now. I don’t need to feel bitter.’
Eliza fought back tears. ‘I am not Grace’s pet, she respects me. No, Tom didn’t marry, and his mother died quite recently, I heard. He still works at the Rose Pit, he’s the manager there. He’s quite a voice in the local community often giving talks about social reform and bad working practices. I think if he had his way, The Rose would be an altogether different pit.’ Eliza blew her nose into her handkerchief and managed a weak smile.
‘Well, if you’re moving on, you aim your sights at Tom Thackeray and I’ll make William Ellershaw my business. Together, we might yet end up rich.’
Mary-Anne stopped talking as the office door opened.
‘Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that you had a customer with you, Eliza.’ Grace Ellershaw hesitated in the doorway as she took in the well-dressed woman deep in conversation with her business partner.
‘Please, don’t apologise, it is I who is taking up my sister’s precious time and I should really be on my way.’ Mary-Anne smiled at Grace Ellershaw. She had hardly changed since the day she had set sail for America, a few grey hairs around her temple being the only sign of the passing years.
