by Jane Jackson
‘There’s also a summons from Granny Hester,’ she pulled a wry face. ‘She says she’s had a letter from Zoe but complains no one ever goes to visit her.’
‘You went to see her the week before last.’
Grace nodded. ‘I expect she’s forgotten. Her memory isn’t what it was.’
‘It’s selective, certainly,’ Edwin said. ‘Tell me when you plan to go and I’ll come too.’
Grace felt a rush a gratitude and relief. ‘Would you? I’d really appreciate it. But you’re already so busy –’
‘Hush,’ he scolded. ‘I know if you don’t go you will only worry. But I’m not having you bullied or upset, especially now.’
‘You’re so kind to me.’
‘I love you,’ he said simply.
‘I’m worried about Zoe.’
‘Why? Your grandmother’s descriptions paint a picture of a young woman at the top of her profession enjoying all the lavish trappings of stardom.’
‘I know. I truly wish I could believe Zoe’s life is as perfect as she says it is. But – haven’t you noticed? Everything is always wonderful. Nothing ever goes wrong. Perhaps it really is like that. I do hope it is. Only …’
‘You don’t think so.’
She shook her head. ‘Granny Hester might know more. Though even if she does, she’s unlikely to tell me.’
‘She might tell me, especially if she’s worried. And after last time she knows I won’t let you visit her on your own.’
Grace gazed at him in dawning comprehension. ‘So this letter is a ploy to get you to visit her?’
‘It’s possible. We’ll find out when we go. Perhaps we’ll call in on your father on our way home. I know he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to see anyone. But John’s worried about the amount he’s drinking.’
Grace sighed. ‘I wish there was something I could do.’
‘There isn’t, Grace,’ Edwin interrupted gently. ‘One of the many things I love about you is your generous heart. But when people choose how they live their lives they must also take responsibility for the results of their choices.’
Twining her fingers in his she smiled at him. ‘I am the most blessed woman I know. I am also keeping us both from our work.’
He helped her to her feet. ‘I’ve been down to the hall. Edna and her ladies have already made a small mountain of cheese sandwiches to go with the soup. Mrs Laity had set up three long tables to display the clothes, one each for men women and children. Judging by the amount on each, people have been incredibly generous.’
‘I hoped they would be. Since Wheal Providence shut down the miners and their families have had a desperate time. Helping with food and clothes is all very well but what the men really need is work. I saw a piece in the paper about a place that opened in London recently. It’s called a Labour Exchange. Employers who need workers send in information about vacant positions. While men looking for work go there to find jobs. I was just wondering if we might be able to do something similar here in the village.’
The adoration on her husband’s face warmed her heart and her cheeks. ‘What?’ she laughed as he slowly shook his head.
‘You,’ he said simply. ‘It’s an excellent idea.’
Hearing the heavy thud of the front door knocker they exchanged a wry smile.
‘Go on,’ she said, releasing him.
‘We’ll talk about it later,’ he promised.
Tapping briefly, Violet popped her head around the door. ‘Mr Angove to see you, Reverend. Put him in your study, shall I?’
‘Thank you, Violet.’ He smiled over his shoulder and followed the maid as she clumped out.
Grace stood for a moment, her hand on her belly, thinking of how far she had come. Though the journey had been hard, it had been infinitely worthwhile. The baby kicked and she smiled. It was time she got dressed. There was work to do.
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