by Gracie Hart
‘You would let me go with you to the ball, to the Guild Hall? I didn’t think for a minute you’d agree!’ Victoria said excitedly.
‘Providing your mood improves. I don’t like this sulky side of you, which seems to have taken over you since your mother left. You will eventually realise that she did it for your good. She will be there for you once she has made a home for herself. And as for George, you would be better spending less time with him. We owe Grace Ellershaw a great deal, but I don’t want us to be beholden to any of the men of that family, they are known to be uncaring and selfish.’ Eliza didn’t want her niece’s heart to be broken, but at the same time she had to keep her parentage a secret.
‘George is not one bit uncaring or selfish. I think you are wrong there, dear Aunt.’ Victoria picked up a hat from a nearby stand and tried it on, smiling to herself as she admired the ribbons and flowers that adorned it, and thinking of how lucky she was to be attending the largest ball in Leeds at her age.
‘Just be careful, Victoria, you don’t know him well.’
One of Eliza’s staff knocked on the fitting room doors. She went quiet when she saw the man standing behind the shop girl.
‘Excuse me, ma’am, I’m sorry to interrupt but this gentleman is quite insistent that he speaks to you.’ Milly bobbed and curtsied and made way for the uninvited guest as he entered the fitting room.
‘John, is it you? My, you are a sight for sore eyes!’ Eliza gasped and held her hand out to shake. ‘What brings you here? Is Mary-Anne with you?’
Victoria looked questioningly at her aunt. Was this John Vasey, her mother’s lover? And why was her aunt acting as if she had no knowledge of her mother?’
‘It’s good to see you, Eliza. For sure, it’s been a long time and I’ve missed you. But, no, Mary-Anne is not with me, I was hoping that you’d tell me she was here, with you. We’ve both got ourselves into a bit of bother and I thought the first thing that she would do would be to return home.’
‘Bother? What’s up? You are both all right, aren’t you? What’s gone wrong for you to return from America?’
‘Nothing for you to worry your head about. I got locked up for being a stupid bloody idiot and Mary-Anne must have finally got fed up with me and decided to do something equally as stupid in an attempt, I thought, to get herself back home. I must have thought wrong. Damn it, where is that bloody woman? Don’t say I’ve come all this way to have left her back in America. I’d do anything to see her bonny face and tell her I’m a stupid Irishman and that I’m sorry for being so stubborn.’ John finally noticed Victoria. ‘This must be Victoria, it can’t be anybody else. Sure, you are the image of your mother. She’d be so proud of you and she’d tell you how much she loves you if she was here.’
Victoria smiled and held her hand out for John to shake. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Vasey.’ Victoria lingered with her handshake and wanted to tell him where her mother was but hesitated as she saw her aunt give her a warning glance. But if she told him, he’d take her mother back to America with him and life would be back to normal. She wouldn’t have to be ashamed of her mother and feel obliged to love her.
‘Listen to you, a real lady in the making. Mary-Anne would be so proud of you. You’ve done well, Eliza, Victoria is everything that her mother ever wished her to be. And just look at you, in a shop in the centre of Leeds. You’ve certainly come a long way since I last saw you.’
‘Yes, fortune has smiled on me and Victoria. But you’ve got me worried about Mary-Anne. Where can she be? Where are you staying so that I can get in touch with you if she shows her face?’
‘I’m in lodgings down by the docks. It’s rife with rats and lice but it will do for the time being. I aim to return to New York shortly if I can’t find Mary-Anne.’ John went to leave, but turned back at the door. ‘I’d thank you kindly if you could tell me if she shows her face. I love that woman. But I won’t take any more of your time. I’m on my way to see Mick and Patsy and catch up over a gill.’
‘You’ll have a long way to walk. I understand that they’ve moved back to Ireland. Pounders Court is to be demolished.’ Eliza could see the disappointment on John’s face.
‘It seems everybody has moved on. The sooner I get back to America the better, there’s nothing here in Leeds for me. At least there I have a decent job, a roof over my head and friends around me. But it won’t be the same without the woman I love. I thank you for your help, Eliza, and may the good Lord look after you both.’ John bowed his head and made his way out of the fitting room and down the stairs and out of the shop.
Victoria watched him through the window as he crossed the bustling Boars Lane. She saw him pull his collar up against the cold wind and weave his way through the crowds.
‘Why didn’t you tell him my mother is here? He sounds broken-hearted.’
Eliza stood next to Victoria. ‘Because your mother has had enough of him. The sooner he goes back to America the better. She’s been with him twelve years and is no better off than when she left with him. In fact, she’s worse off.’
‘But he loves her.’
‘Love doesn’t pay the bills, Victoria, the sooner you realise that the better. And some men can charm you with words but they’re just empty promises.’ Eliza put her arm around her niece. ‘It’s better you find an honest man with money, if there’s any such thing.’
‘Is John Vasey my father, Aunt?’ Victoria waited for her aunt to answer the question that had been a thorn in her side all her young life.
‘No, my dear Victoria. Your father is a man of much more standing than that of John Vasey. That is, and always will be the problem. Now, don’t ask any more of me, your mother will tell you when she is ready. You are loved dearly by your mother and me, and you are better off without your father, believe me.’ Eliza kissed her niece on the cheek and they both watched John Vasey disappear into the crowds. One day Victoria would have to know who her true father was and she just hoped it would not break her heart.
Victoria sat across from George Ellershaw, feeling uneasy as he watched her every move. She’d told her aunt that she would not be in need of a chaperone as she was accompanied by George and he was to be trusted. However, it was the first time she had been alone with him and while she usually enjoyed his teasing and attention she now felt uncomfortable with him being so direct. Still, she was determined to be the good girl her aunt had raised her to be.
‘It’s a delightful tearoom, George, I would never have guessed to have come here. How did you hear about Morley’s?’ Victoria decided to make polite conversation and keep him from staring at her.
‘My mother has tea with her cronies here. So I knew it would be suitable.’ George smiled across at the girl.
‘It is full of very wealthy people, which is strange as it is situated in a rather disreputable area. My aunt was quite beside herself worrying that I would not be safe here.’ Victoria sipped her tea and looked around her at the bustling tearoom filled with the great and the good of Leeds. But could see why they were drawn there – the cake that she had just eaten was divine and the people she could see and hear seemed to be besotted with how the lower classes acted and how, if they had their way, they could reform them. The tea shop was a window on how the poor of Leeds lived, yet in the warmth and safety of upper-class society. It was a do-gooder’s paradise, and, without getting her hands dirty, the perfect place for George’s mother to say that she felt for the working classes and perhaps give a few pence to them to ease her conscience.
‘My mother says I should be thankful for the position that I have been born into. But these folk that are lost souls and all the worse for a drink are just idle in my eyes. They deserve the lifestyle they live. Why, they too could eat cake if they didn’t waste their money on drink. I mean, just look at that man who has just come out of Binks Hotel. He can hardly stand because he is so inebriated.’ George pointed out across the Rose and Crown Yard and scoffed at the dark-haired man who was leaning against the wall of t
he Binks Hotel, trying to light his pipe.
Victoria recognised the man instantly as John Vasey and watched as he slumped down upon the cobbled yard with his head in his hands, in drunken despair of losing his one love in his life, Victoria’s mother.
‘I know that man, I think I shall help him.’ Victoria pushed her chair back from the table and before George could stop her she made her way out of the shop to John Vasey’s side.
‘Mr Vasey, are you all right? Do you need a hand?’ Victoria bent down and looked at the broken Irish man.
‘Are you an angel? Has my Mary-Anne sent me an angel to look after me?’ John Vasey looked up at the young fresh face and grinned. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, I’m worse for the drink. I know who you are, you are Victoria and you probably need your mother as much as I do.’ John Vasey slurred his words and then started to prop himself up against the lime-washed wall of the hotel. He grinned and put his hand on Victoria’s shoulder.
‘Mr Vasey, I think I can help. I know where she is. She’s living up near Speakers’ Corner with an old beggar woman. She is in Leeds, go and find her and take her back with you, back to America.’ The sooner her mother was out of her life the better. How could she let the likes of George Ellershaw ever meet her? She was a thief, foul-mouthed and common. ‘Here, take this penny and sober yourself up.’ Victoria placed a penny in his hand and pretended to take care of him as the ladies of society and George watched her. ‘Please don’t tell my mother that I told you where she is. I am only telling you because I can see you are hurting so.’
‘Bless you, you don’t know what this means to me, I love that woman. God bless you, miss.’ John Vasey decided a hug was in order as he held her close, his ale-laden breath making her cringe.
‘Yes, well, I’ve told you now but I’d prefer that you don’t tell my mother how you came to her. I’ll go back to my tea, you take care of yourself.’ Victoria watched John Vasey stumble off down the cobbled yard then went back into the tea shop, aware of the customers muttering about what she had just done.
George looked in disbelief at his tea partner. ‘You shouldn’t have done that. Were you trying to impress me? He could have attacked you. Besides, he will only go back to the public house and buy himself another drink.’
‘You could have come with me. But I know him. He’s harmless. He’s just looking for his wife.’ Victoria took a sip of her tea.
‘Oh no, he might have soiled my new jacket, the dirty ruffian. In future, Victoria, try not to be so impulsive, it has made you the talk of the tea shop.’ George looked most upset. ‘You should act less like a child.’
‘I’m sorry, George.’ Victoria began to realise what type of boy George was. He was a fop and a shallow mother’s boy, worse than that, he was a snob. ‘But I am a child.’ She raised her voice a little. ‘I’m only twelve, after all, and now I’m going to enjoy one of these lovely cakes.’ She helped herself to the prettiest of the fancies, relieved that she would soon be home with her aunt and hopeful that her intervention with John Vasey would mean that her mother would soon be out of her life for good.
Chapter 15
Edmund Ellershaw sat on the edge of the bed, pulled his braces up over his shirt and reached for his waistcoat from off the bedpost, giving a quick glance to the woman that lay there, undisturbed by her lover leaving her. He pulled his waistcoat on and buttoned it up, putting his fob watch in the breast pocket before looking down at his portly belly and sighing. He felt into his pocket and placed what change he had on the bedside table, though he did wonder if he could get away with not paying for his night of so-called pleasure. But if he didn’t pay her, word would soon get about Leeds not to give him the time of day in the brothels.
As it was, he was dreading the gossip that was already circulating about him. He’d never had this trouble before. He could always perform, perform so well that many a woman could hardly walk after a night with him. But now, something was wrong. His dick just wouldn’t go hard for him, and even when it did he couldn’t manage it for long, becoming short of breath and exhausted. Perhaps losing a pound or two would not hurt. After all, he wasn’t getting much younger. The spirit was willing but the flesh definitely was not.
He pulled his jacket on, looked again at the pile of change he’d left for the whore that had not kept her scorn to herself at him not reaching his maximum potential and took two of the coins from the pile. She shouldn’t have grinned so much when she realised it was going to be easy money, the bitch, he thought as he put them back in his jacket pocket. He left her still asleep in bed in one of his favourite haunts, the gentlemen’s club.
Tom Thackeray stood at the head of Rose Pit as he listened to the complaints from the latest shift to come up from the shafts.
‘I tell you, Tom, that those new props are not strong enough the wood’s not worth owt. I wouldn’t build a shithouse with that stuff,’ Bill Parker said. His face was blackened by coal and his eyes were sore from rubbing the dust out of them. ‘The lads said they were sure they heard them creaking the other day, they just can’t hold the weight.’
‘I’ll have a word with Ellershaw when he turns up. He’s got them from a new supplier. He was saying that he was more than happy with them, so he’ll not be pleased.’ Tom Thackeray knew that Bill’s concerns were justified. He’d looked at the wooden props before they had been taken down the pit, and although they did look strong the wood was softer than usual, no doubt a saving on Ellershaw’s side. He was as tight as a duck’s arse, but lately it had gone too far. Men’s lives were being put at risk through his money-saving schemes. Perhaps if he didn’t spend so much at his so-called gentlemen’s club he’d have more brass in his pocket.
‘Aye, well do, before there’s an accident. Besides, the men can’t concentrate on the coalface, they are too busy listening to every groan and creak coming from those props. So if he thinks he’s saving brass with his shite props, he isn’t.’ Bill spat a mouthful of coal dust out and walked away. He’d said his bit, now it was up to Tom and Ellershaw to sort it.
Tom watched as the next shift went down in the cage and looked up at the pithead wheel turning. ‘Please let them men be safe,’ he whispered to himself. At least until he’d tackled Edmund Ellershaw about it and got him to replace the props with wood from their original supplier. Those props should never have put in place. It was men’s lives they were protecting, and that of their families, but all that seemed to matter to Ellershaw was profit.
Tom looked around the yard and pit head. If this mine was his, he’d run it a lot different, it would be safer and secure. You got out of your men what you put into them. Edmund Ellershaw gave nowt to his men, so he got nowt back.
‘Isn’t it nice to have William join us for a meal tonight? Catherine Ellershaw passed the terrine of green beans to William and looked around the table at her family all sat down together for once. ‘It is such a pity Priscilla could not have joined you, William. Is she still not herself? The girl is so frail, I do worry about her. You must look after her, you owe her and your late grandfather a great deal.’
‘No, she sends her apologies, Mama. She did not feel like company tonight as she has a headache.’ William glanced across at his sister who he feared would have something to say about the absence of his wife by his side.
‘She did seem a bit down last week.’ Grace looked pointedly at her brother. ‘Perhaps you should make her attend events more often, William. You can get to a point of not wanting to see people if you stay at home too long. I’m sure if you encouraged her, and showed her a bit of attention, her spirits would improve.’
‘I only wish your father would listen to your advice as well, Grace.’ Catherine glanced at her husband. ‘Where were you last night? At that infernal gentlemen’s club? What keeps you there until dawn? No sooner do you arrive back from there, than off you go to your beloved mine. I may as well never have married you, from what I see of you.’
‘I’d some business to do at my club. And how do you think we can eat
like this if I don’t go to the pit?’
Edmund sliced his beef with vigour while thinking about what Tom Thackeray had said to him earlier in the day. The cheeky bastard had confronted him over the strength of the props and beams. Who did he think he was? It wasn’t his pit and he’d never own one if he wasted money like that. He looked up to see George grinning, knowing full well what his father had been up to until the early hours. ‘And you can wipe that smile from your face. You need to get your arse into some work, stop hiding behind your mother’s apron strings and stop dreaming over that Wild lass.’ Edmund wiped his chin and scowled. ‘Aye, that’s right, I heard you’d taken that little girl for tea at Morley’s. Old Brown’s wife had seen you there and he nearly broke his neck to tell me last night. You want nowt with her, she’s a child and rubbish to boot. From what I hear she showed herself up by giving some money to a drunk she took pity on.’ Edmund turned his attention to Grace. ‘And you are paying that Eliza too much if her daughter can give money to someone lying in the gutter. Some bloody family I have.’ Edmund sneered at his family. He was disgusted at their self-righteous behaviour.
‘This is exactly why I don’t come to dinner very often.’ William pushed his chair back, stood, and threw his napkin onto the table. ‘It always ends with an argument and my father cursing everybody. You should really look at yourself, Father, and realise that you yourself are not perfect, in fact, far from it, with your dissolute habits.’
‘Sit down, William. I don’t want you to go, we hardly ever see you. Your father is just tired. You know how hard he works and he’s not getting any younger.’ Catherine Ellershaw pulled on her son’s arm.
William ignored the plea. ‘Works hard at whoring in that club of his. Don’t deny you know what he gets up to there, Mother, because we all know it.’ William’s eyes flashed as he looked at his father.
