The Child Left Behind

by Gracie Hart

  ‘Your father called, he wanted to see you. I told him you were still at the mill, but I can smell the whore you’ve been with on you. The smell of her cheap perfume is filling the room. Heaven only knows why I lie so much for you.’ Priscilla sobbed as she looked across at her husband who gazed unfeelingly into the fire.

  ‘Because you’ve no option if you want to stay a member of society. Just look at you. Why I return home at all is unbelievable. There’s no love to be found in your arms, no wonder I look for it elsewhere.’ William scowled. ‘What did the old bastard want anyway? He’s not in the habit of visiting his loving son, something must be afoot.’

  ‘He wouldn’t tell me, but he asked that you pay a visit to him at the pit. He emphasised not to visit at home. He seemed very on edge.’

  William shook his head. ‘He’ll be bloody lucky – if I can’t visit him at home, then why should I visit him at the pit?’

  Priscilla stood up and wiped her eyes. As convention dictated, she stopped down to kiss her husband goodnight.

  ‘That’s as good as it gets between us two, isn’t it? You’d be better off without me, Priscilla, and I definitely would be better for not having you sobbing and hanging around my neck.’ He sneered at the unkempt and miserable creature he had married. It was hard to believe that she had once been beautiful.

  ‘But I love you, William,’ Priscilla whispered back quietly.

  ‘Then you are a fool,’ William said.

  Prissy sobbed and fled the drawing room, running up to her bedroom, heartbroken yet again.

  William sat forward in his chair and stirred the dying embers of the fire with a poker, wondering what had brought his father to his door and what business he was wanting to discuss. Why did he want to meet him at the Rose Pit? His father’s request was soon put to the back of his thoughts though as he recollected his night with Mary-Anne Vasey. Now that was a woman who turned men’s heads. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her all night. She knew what a man wanted. His blood had raced through his veins when she had kissed him and tempted him with her ample cleavage. He would bed her, but perhaps this time he would do it correctly, take her as a mistress and get rid of Ruby Bell, who no longer kept him satisfied anyway. But tomorrow, if he had the time, he would see why his father needed to speak to him. It wouldn’t be because he was concerned about him, his son, that was for sure.

  William walked through the gates of Rose Pit to find a scene of complete disorganisation. Coal was stacked in every corner of the yard, un-bagged and un-delivered to customers who must have been in need of it. The ponies that helped deliver it looked half-starved and miserable, hanging their heads in despair, and the miners scowled at him as he entered his father’s office.

  ‘So, will wonders never cease? You came and visited me when I asked you too.’ Edmund lifted up his head from the books that he was trying to make sense of and glared at his son.

  ‘What’s going on, Father? What have you done for the yard to look like it does? Is it because of the accident I heard you had a few weeks back? Why isn’t Tom Thackeray sorting things for you?’ William sat down across from his father. The older man opened his desk drawer, took out a hip flask and swigged its contents.

  ‘I sacked the bastard. He gave me too much lip, said the accident was all my fault that I’d used substandard pit props – said it in front of the men too.’ Edmund waved his hand dismissively at the yard and the miners who had lost all respect for him.

  ‘And had you? If so, he was right to say what he did.’ William took the flask out of his father’s hand, replaced the stopper and put it in front of him. ‘That stuff’s not the answer to your problems. Even I know when I need to focus on work.’

  ‘You bastard, give it back.’ Edmund leaned forward for his flask, as William snatched it and put it in his pocket.

  ‘Did you put your workforce in danger with your penny-pinching? It sounds like a thing you’d do. I don’t know why. You’ve never been short of brass, even though you always say you are.’

  ‘Know your place, William, I’m your father. You can’t talk to me like this.’ Edmund slurred. ‘You know nowt. I’ve lost it all, lad, your father’s penniless. The banks are yelling at me, your mother thinks she can live like a lady, and your younger brother spends money like water. At home, there’s only our Grace who’s worth anything and I’m not asking her for any of her brass, you’ll not get me begging around a woman’s skirts.’

  ‘So, that’s why I’m summoned. You want some money!’ William rose from his chair and leaned against the small filthy office window and looked out at the un-loved pit yard. ‘How much do you want? Although I don’t see why I should bail you out, you’ve never been there to help me, unlike grandfather, who did right by all of us. We’ve nowt to thank you for.’

  ‘Now, lad, I sent you to college, I fed and clothed you. When times were better you wanted for nowt.’ Edmund grunted and his face flushed with suppressed anger as he watched his arrogant son sit back down across from him.

  ‘I’ll give you some money, but on one condition. Take Thomas Thackeray back on as your manager. He’ll keep you straight, the men respect him and he wouldn’t have the piles of coal growing in every corner of the yard undelivered. How do you expect to make brass if you aren’t selling owt?’

  His father’s face turned purple with anger at his son dictating terms of his loan. ‘Tom bloody Thackeray. You’d think he was the only man on God’s earth, that’s all I hear them lot out there mutter under their breaths.’ Edmund banged his fist down on the desk.

  ‘How much do you want? And don’t take me for a fool. I’ll know if you don’t take him back on and offer him a decent pay because it’s obvious you can’t manage without him.’ William reached inside his jacket pocket and took out his chequebook.

  ‘But what if I can’t find him? He’s no reason to stay now his mother’s died. Just give me the money, William, have pity on your father.’ Edmund pleaded.

  ‘He’s working for the Bentleys at Eshald Mansion. I’ll offer him the position when I return back to Leeds. He’ll no doubt bite my hand off as he loves mining, it is in his blood. Now, will two hundred set things straight?’ William gave his father an icy stare as he lifted his hand to write the cheque.

  ‘You’ve bloody got me over a barrel. I hate the bastard, but if that’s what it takes to get me back right with the bank, I’ve no option. Make it two fifty lad, that’ll give me time to get myself straight again and keep everyone of my back. I’ll try and sell that useless pit at Wakefield, not that it’s worth a lot.’

  ‘Square yourself up father, for all our sakes,’ William said as he signed the cheque and held it out to his father. ‘You don’t look well. Mother must be concerned for you.’ Now that the pressing matter of the pit had been settled, William saw that his father was bloated, with a strange colour to his complexion and his lips looked almost blue.

  ‘She isn’t bothered about anybody but her fancy tea parties and her precious George. Grace keeps herself busy with that Wild woman and she isn’t bothered about me. I thank you lad, for this, I should be able to manage now and if Tom Thackeray is part of the deal, then so be it. Perhaps he was worth his weight in coal at any rate.’ Edmund smiled at his son, who he had always thought as spoilt, but he needed his help so badly at the moment.

  ‘Take care, Father, watch the drink and other pastimes that I know you get up to. You are not getting any younger.’ William put his top hat on his head.

  ‘Aye, you take care and all, lad. Get rid of that mistress and take care of that wife of yours – your mother tells me she looks ill.’

  Edmund held his lifeline of a cheque in his trembling hands and sighed. Thank God for that – he’d live to fight another day, even if Tom Thackeray was part of the deal, and even though it meant losing face to his arrogant bastard of a son.

  Tom Thackeray took a deep breath and stepped back into the yard of Rose Pit. He closed his eyes for a moment to summon up courage before he made his
peace with Edmund Ellershaw and to see what the bastard demanded of him. There was plenty to do. By the looks of it the place had gone to the dogs since he had left.

  ‘You are back then. My lad’s talked you into seeing sense.’ Edmund Ellershaw bluffed his way with Tom as he stood in front of him, cap in hand.

  ‘Your William said I was wanted back here and I was to be reinstated as the manager and paid ten shillings a week. Now, if I’ve got it wrong, I can turn around and go back to my gardening.’ Tom wasn’t going to stay and be made a fool of.

  ‘Ten shillings, you say? You’d better be bloody worth it, I’ll expect you working every waking hour for that pay. I didn’t want you back but it seems my lad and them out there think I’m past running this bloody mine, so you’d better get your arse out there and show me that you are worth this money my lad’s promised.’ Edmund glared at Tom Thackeray. He was everything he hated: clean cut, clean living and one to stand up for his rights and that of his fellow man. He was a sop and a troublemaker, and definitely not worth ten bob a week. What had his lad been thinking about when he’d offered him that?

  ‘Right, Mr Ellershaw, as long as we know where we stand. I’ll do my job and get this place back in action and you leave me alone to do it. You’ll not regret sending your son to me, that I can assure you.’ Tom put his cap back on his head and went to the door.

  ‘Don’t you give me any bother, Thackeray, else it’ll be the worse for you.’ Edmund Ellershaw shouted after him .

  Tom stood on the steps of the office and looked across at the hungry pit ponies and decided that was his first job. He shouted at one of the yard hands to go buy some hay and get them fed before they dropped. He was officially the manager now. One day, if he was careful, he hoped to own the Rose Pit, and there was money to be made there if it was run properly and Edmund Ellershaw gone.

  Chapter 24

  ‘Was that the post-boy I heard at the door, Victoria?’ Eliza looked up from her tea as her niece entered the parlour, reading a newly delivered letter and looking flushed.

  ‘Yes, Aunt Eliza, it was for me. It’s from George. He’s asking me to tea on Friday.’

  ‘Oh, and how do you feel about that? Will you be attending? I’m sure your feelings regarding George have changed now that you know he is your half-brother. However, I realise that you are good friends and a friendship should never be thwarted.’ Eliza smiled as her niece sat opposite her looking perplexed.

  ‘I don’t think he’s ever been that sweet on me in that way, Aunt, he thinks I’m a child still … which I know I am. It’s more of a friendship that we have, but to have tea at his home will certainly be strange, especially if his father is there, or should I say our father? I don’t know what I’d quite do with myself.’ Victoria sighed and bowed her head.

  ‘Then you have not got a problem. You’ve seen his father before, just treat him like you did previously. Anyway, George will keep out of his way, if what Grace tells me is true. I believe his father and he spend as little time as possible in one another’s presence. I fear your father is not a well-liked man, Victoria, not even by his legitimate family. They have no time for him and he has no time for them, so he won’t give you a second glance.’ Eliza patted Victoria’s hand. ‘Go. Don’t forsake George for the sake of his father’s mistake, you enjoy one another’s company too much.’

  ‘I might, out of curiosity. I’d like to see his home, now I know what I do. But, I must confess, I don’t wish to see anyone else but George, in fear that they may recognise any family traits, now I know my parentage.’ Victoria swallowed hard.

  Eliza smiled at her niece. ‘No one would ever guess, Victoria. You take after your mother and me. Go and enjoy yourself.’

  ‘Aunt Eliza, can I ask you something? When I last saw George, I heard some ladies gossiping about him and I didn’t understand what they were saying. They said that he prefers mollies to ladies … Is it because he dresses like a dandy? Is that what a Molly is?’

  Eliza looked at her young niece wondering how to best explain what she had overheard. ‘I … Well, I think they’re suggesting that George prefers the company of men to ladies, Victoria. Which is quite a turn up for the books and I’m not sure what his father would think, if he knew.’

  Eliza couldn’t help but laugh, though her expression softened as she glanced at her baffled niece.

  ‘He won’t ever fall in love with a lady, Victoria. They don’t … stir his blood in the way that his male friends might.’ Eliza realised her niece had started to understand. ‘I guess we might have realised. As you say, he does like his fine clothes and he’s always worried about his looks. And there was your mother, worried that he had designs on you. Well, what comes around goes around: Edmund Ellershaw has a bastard for one son and a Molly for another. It’s his good fortune that he has two fine daughters in you and Grace, both of whom he won’t give the time of day to. I’m afraid your father is a fool and you are better off without him my dear.’ Eliza sat back still laughing at the thought of George being homosexual.

  ‘You’ll not say anything, Aunt Eliza, will you? He’s still George and he’s my friend. I don’t mind if he likes boys, but from what you say, it’s something his family would be ashamed of if they knew the truth.’ Victoria looked alarmed.

  ‘I think he would be shunned by everyone if it was common knowledge,’ Eliza said gently. ‘But I’ll not say anything. Now, you go and have tea with him, hold your head up high and enjoy every penny that he spends on you. By rights, it’s partly your money that he wastes on his male friends and clothes.’ Eliza shook her head thinking about George. Mary-Anne would find it so amusing when she told her.

  ‘I really am so pleased that you have joined me here today, Victoria. I do relish our friendship.’ George looked at himself in the long gilt mirror that hung in the drawing room of Highfield House, preening himself before turning and smiled at his young guest as she gazed around her. ‘Mama is pleased that I have you as a friend too. She wished to meet you, but alas, she has had to go and see my sister-in-law, Priscilla. She is of a very nervous disposition, and her note this morning begged Mama to visit.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, George, I do hope that she all right. She and your brother live in Levensthorpe Hall, don’t they? I’ve seen your brother on the odd occasion but never your sister-in-law. Is she always nervous?’ Victoria wanted to know more about the family that she now knew she was part of but didn’t want to seem as if she was prying.

  ‘She’s always having a fit of the vapours. But then again, my brother is such a selfish man and only thinks of himself. No wonder she’s nervous. Anyone would be who was married to that boor.’ George sat down across from Victoria. She was a pretty thing and her aunt always made sure she was well dressed. He could see she would be a beauty when she was older and he liked the fact that she clearly doted on him.

  ‘Your sister Grace is lovely, she is just the opposite. Aunt Eliza says we owe her everything. She treats her just like a sister, they get on so well.’ Victoria blushed, realising what she had just said connected the two women together.

  ‘They are close because they need one another in business. Of course, your aunt only works for my sister. We should never forget that. However, I’m sure they have a strong friendship as well. Just like we have. I really do enjoy your forthright views and fashion sense that you have obviously inherited from your aunt.’ George pulled his highly embroidered waistcoat into place over his rotund stomach. ‘What do you think of my tailor’s latest creation? It is of the best Parisian silk, the embroidery is exquisite, don’t you think? I haven’t dared wear it in front of my father or tell him the expense of it. I’ll suffer his wrath when the tailor sends his bill.’ George sat back in his chair and looked smug at the thought of getting away with his costly buy until the bill was delivered.

  ‘It’s truly spectacular, George. Just like your home. I don’t think I’ve ever been in such grand premises.’ Victoria looked around at the expensively decorated walls
and the fine furnishings of Highfield House.

  ‘This is nothing compared to my brother’s home. He has ten bedrooms and fifty acres of grounds. Mama is always complaining to father saying that we have nothing compared to some families in the district. She is never satisfied.’ George sipped his tea.

  ‘When we lived in Pit Lane, we had nothing. Poor Aunt Eliza struggled to feed us both until your sister came along and saved us. When we moved into Aireville Mansions we both thought we had died and gone to heaven, but it is nothing like here. My mother, when she first came to find us both after returning from America, couldn’t believe that we had such a big house. You should have seen the look on her face when she was shown around it.’

  ‘Your mother’s here and no longer in America? You never told me.’ George gasped.

  ‘I’m sorry, did I not? She returned about two months ago and I’ve just been getting used to having her here and getting to know her. She is not quite what I expected my mother to be, but I suppose I will grow to like and love her. After all, she is blood.’ Victoria gazed at her half-brother over the top of her tea-cup.

  ‘I wouldn’t count on that for anything. I hate my father, he’s a bastard and he just doesn’t understand me.’ George sighed. ‘I must meet your mother and then I’ll tell you what I think of her. She can’t be worse than my father.’

  ‘I don’t know, I’ve never spoken to your father either. However, it seems we have a lot in common, George, probably more than you realise.’ Victoria placed her tea cup down wanting to tell George everything about his father and her mother but refrained, she was only just getting used to the news so why ruin George’s world? It would wait until their friendship developed, a strange friendship between two unloved children of Edmund Ellershaw.

  Catherine Ellershaw sat across from her daughter-in-law and tried to seem sympathetic to her gripes and moans as she belittled her marriage to her son. ‘Really, Priscilla, you are going to start to appreciate just what you have got in your life and realise how lucky you are. William works hard to keep you in a decent lifestyle, surely you can forgive him for a few misdemeanors.’