by Betty Annand
“Good God, Randy, you have met the woman. You must be joking!”
“Not at all, and if you take a minute to think about it, I am certain you know one or two less savoury acquaintances who would be only too happy to do you a favour, for a price of course.” Randolph then tipped his head and winked. “What do you think?”
Andrew looked at Randolph for a second, expecting him to laugh. When his expression didn’t change, he exclaimed, “You are not serious, are you?”
“I am. Mind you, it would have to be someone with a great deal of charm to fool that wife of yours, and I doubt you will find a man with that sort of talent who is willing to do such a thing, no matter how much compensation you are offering.”
They sat in silence and enjoyed their drink for a while before, Andrew, who had been mulling over what his friend had said, inquired, “Even if I could arrange such a thing, would it not be dishonest?”
“How honest was she when she pretended to be a kind and loving woman and duped you into an unhappy marriage?”
“I suppose that’s true, but I would have to be pretty desperate to stoop to her level.”
“You sounded to me as though you were.”
Andrew thought for minute then nodded his head and answered, “Yes, by God, I am.”
Randolph had noticed how attractive Gladys was and he knew how much younger she was than Andrew, so the thought occurred to him that perhaps the infatuation might be one-sided. Hoping Andrew wouldn’t take offense, he asked, “You might be in love with Gladys, Andrew, but does she feel the same about you?”
“I have no idea, but I can only hope she does. Damn it, Randy, I may be an old fool, but I can’t help it. Do you think Tom would be disgusted with me?”
“No, I’m sure he would appreciate the way you have taken care of his family. The kindness you have shown toward them is quite perceptible. Anyone could tell you would be a good husband to Gladys and a wonderful father to her daughter. And I daresay you are still man enough to provide the girl with a sibling or two, right?” Randy, said with a grin.
“Thank you, Randy, I needed that. But the thing is, Gladys has a suitor—the Reverend Mason’s son, Hugh. He has returned home ordained and full of enthusiasm about sailing off to save every heathen soul in the Colonies. Egad, why cannot these missionaries with their ‘I’m holier-than-thou’ attitude realize they often do more harm than good?”
“I’m afraid I cannot agree with you there. They are out there in the wilds risking their lives doing what the good book tells them to. But then, you were never much of a churchgoer, were you?”
“No, I never was and shan’t ever be, but to get back to Gladys, if she does decide to go with him and take my granddaughter, it would break my heart.”
“Yes, I can see it would. However, you must be practical, and in case she does go off with the Mason lad, it would be a grave mistake if you were to put Oaken Arms in her or her daughter’s name before they left.”
“I suppose you are right.”
“Of course, you could prevent her from taking your granddaughter to another country, but I don’t think you can legally stop Gladys from going.”
“I would never separate them, no matter how much it hurt me. However, that is my problem,” Andrew said as he rose and held out his hand. “Thank you for listening to me, Randy. You are a good friend, and I appreciate it.”
“Anytime, Andrew. Anytime. I think we should let things ride as they are for a time until we see what the future brings. I also think you should let your daughter-in-law know how you feel.”
“We shall see.”
__________
Gladys had really begun to enjoy Hugh’s company. As part of his training, he had spent a year in the Colonies, and the stories he told her fuelled her imagination. She recalled the exhibits with the handsome Indian chief and the pictures they had on display of the wide open plains and snow-capped mountains. She could picture herself in such a romantic setting where she could throw caution to the wind—along with hoops and corsets—and jump on the back of a wild mustang, dressed in a pair of buckskin breeches, and ride for hours without seeing a fence or a hedge. She even fantasized about being at Hugh’s side as he visited the Indian villages and taught them to be civilized.
She couldn’t imagine saving any souls though, because she thought her own might need saving more than the natives, but she had heard that the weather in Canada was exceedingly cold in the winter, so perhaps she and Hugh could teach them to build warm houses with fireplaces to prevent them from freezing to death. As much as she dreamt about a life in the wilderness, the days she spent at Oaken Arms planning for her future home meant more to her than any fantasy, and although she didn’t tell Hugh, she knew in her heart that she would never leave England with him.
All sorts of confusing thoughts were on her mind in the following weeks, mostly because Andrew’s moods had become unpredictable, which worried her. Then one day she had a visitor who threatened her very existence. She was bent over digging in her garden when someone touched her shoulder. Looking up, she was forced to put her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. The man standing above her was the filthiest and most decrepit looking man she had seen since she discovered Mr O in front of Scots Inn. Getting to her feet, she asked him in a shaky voice what he wanted.
“It’s me, missus. Rod O’Brian. Don’t you remember?”
Gladys wanted to close her eyes and have him disappear, but she knew it was impossible. “What do you want?” she blurted out rudely.
“I brought you this here,” he said as he took a dirty little bundle out of his pocket and handed it to her. She recognized the piece of cloth immediately. It was the one she had wrapped Sally’s cameo in. Her hand was shaking as she took it from him.
“Pa give it to me before he passed on. He said I was to get it to you whenever I could. I caught a ride with that fellow what brings girls like our Ellie to work for folks. Da told me what happened to you and made me swear on the St. Michael’s medal he wore around his neck that I’d not tell a soul. When I asked for you and our Ellie at the Inn, I was told she moved away and that you lives here. Da told me how well off our Ellie was now and I was spectin’ her to help me and my kiddies out. They’s in a bad way, missus. Then when I asked for you, I didn’t let on I knew you or that you come from the same place as me, and you can believe that.”
“Thank you, Rod. That was kind of you,” Gladys said in a much kinder voice, but she didn’t know what else to say. They both stood staring down at the ground for an awkward few seconds. Gladys wished he would just go away, but he made no move to leave.
Finally, he said, “You see, missus, I don’t have a ways home, so I could use some money. Me wife an’ kiddies is starving, and I could of sold that there pin, but Pa made me swear I’d give it to you.”
Gladys told him she could give him a little, but that she didn’t have much. She told him to wait where he was. Then she hurried into the house to get all the money she had and to make sure that Dolly was still playing upstairs and hadn’t seen Rod. While Rod was waiting for her to return, he began to realize how afraid she had been when she saw him, and he realized that he had a good chance to return home with money enough to buy food to last his family for a very long time.
When she came back, she gave him a handful of notes. “Here, this is all I have in the house,” Gladys said. “Thank you for bringing me the broach, but now I would appreciate it if you were to go before someone sees you here.” It was more money than he had ever had in his hands, but he wasn’t about to leave until he tried to get more.
“Just a minute, missus,” Rod said as he reached out and grabbed her by the arm as she turned to leave.
“How dare you touch me,” Gladys said angrily, “If you are not careful, I shall call for a constable, and you will spend the rest of your life in jail.”
“I wouldn’t be too hasty if I
was you. They’s still looking for that poor Mr Gaylord, you know.”
“What has that to do with me?” Gladys demanded.
“Well you see, Pa didn’t just tell me about the pin. He told me about you an’ Mr Gaylord too.”
Gladys knew she was beaten. “What do you want? I told you I have no more money.”
“I’m sure you could get more, missus. I’ll be staying in the park down the road, and I’ll expect to see you tomorrow when it’s dark with twice this much,” he said as he held up the notes.
“That is blackmail! What would your father have to say to that?”
“I spect Pa would understand that me little ones means more to me than me conscience. You’d best be there, missus,” he said, as he turned and left.
Gladys felt as though she had been kicked in the stomach. Her legs were shaking as she went into the house and sat down to think. She knew it wasn’t Mr O’s fault, and she certainly could not blame Sally for giving her the pin, but now she almost wished she had not helped Mr O when he came to the inn looking for Ellie. She had come so far since running away from the slums, and now she might lose everything. She knew that even if she could get her hands on more money, Rod would be back for more every time his children were hungry. Not that she could blame him. For Rod, finding her was like finding the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
Once Gladys became mistress of Oaken Arms, she could afford to give him money from time to time, but that wasn’t about to happen for a while yet, and he had made it clear that he wanted money the next evening. If he did as he threatened, and went to the police, she would be thrown in jail or even hung, and chances were that Dolly might be sent to an orphanage. The cook at Scots Inn had lived next to one of the orphanages and she told Gladys how helpless she had felt when she saw the gaunt and sad little faces peering out of the barred windows.
After she put Dolly to bed, she went to the kitchen and without thinking, pulled out the cutlery drawer and stood staring at the largest and sharpest knife she had. She tried to envision the knife in her hand as she stabbed poor Rob. It was the same hand that held the pillow over Millie’s face. She slammed the drawer shut, made a pot of tea and sat at the kitchen table throughout the night.
Somehow she managed to get through the next day while keeping up a cheerful front for Dolly’s sake, but once she had her tucked into bed and was sure she was sound asleep, she put on her cloak, took the knife from the drawer and left the house. On the walk to the park she tried to convince herself that what she was about to do was justifiable. She reasoned that she had just as much right to fight for her child as Rod did for his. Gladys also knew that if she were caught it would make no difference whether she had murdered one or three. She could only be hung once. As she entered the park, Rod stepped out from behind a tree. “Here I am, missus. Have you got me money?” he asked.
Gladys answered, “Right here.” As she came closer to him, she was about to draw the knife when he said, “I’m really sorry I has to do this, honest I am. But me little kiddies are that hungry, they won’t last more’n a week.”
For an instant, Gladys could picture Rod’s starving children, sitting in a dark, cold room, waiting for their da to return with something for them to eat. Even after all the years she had lived on the outside, she still recalled how horrible that feeling was, so she kept the knife hidden and said, “Rod, I am sorry. I really do not have any more money. I suppose you will just have to believe me, or turn me over to the law.”
“That wouldn’t help me little ones none, missus. I won’t give you away; don’t worry none about that. We’ll just have to make do with what you gived us an’ hope things get a lot better.”
Gladys said she wished there was something she could do, and they said goodbye; but as she was walking away, she had an idea and called out to him. When he came back she said, “How would you like to get your family out of Old Nichol?”
__________
The next day she went to see Andrew. “Andrew, I want to talk to you!” she said as she walked into his office.
“Well, good afternoon to you too.”
“Oh, I am sorry. It is just that I wanted to talk to you about something so important it could not wait.”
Andrew’s chest tightened. He was afraid she was going to tell him that she had decided to marry the preacher. “Go on then, what is it?”
“Did you really mean what you said about helping some of those poor people living in the London slums?”
“Of course, I did. I am not in the habit of saying things I do not mean,” he answered with relief.
Gladys told him she had met a beggar in the park, and he told her a sad story about his children starving to death. She said she insisted to giving him money even though he tried to refuse it, saying he wasn’t a beggar, but was looking for work. She also said that if they could find him employment, he could take his family out of Old Nichol and save their lives.
“That is a brilliant idea, Gladys. You know, the last time I was talking to Cedric he said that Charlie, his stable boy, was in his seventies and the job was becoming too much for him. I wonder if this poor chap knows anything about horses.”
“Why it’s odd that you should say that, because I remember him saying he was fond of all animals, and he even said he wanted to work on a farm, but he was afraid to apply for a job looking as shabby as he does,” Gladys replied.
“Well then we shall have to clean the fellow up before taking him out to Sorensons.”
They left immediately for the park where Rod was waiting. Andrew was appalled when he saw the sorry state the poor fellow was in, but the Rod they took to meet Lord Cedric the following day looked nothing like the man they had met in the park.
Rod and Charlie the stable boy got along very well, and when Andrew took Gladys and Dolly to visit the Sorensons a month later, she was delighted to see Rod had moved his family into one of the outbuildings close to the stables. Poor Rod had three children when he left Old Nichol with Gladys’s cameo, but when he returned to get them, one had succumbed to starvation and the two who survived, a boy of eleven and a girl of seven, were in very poor condition, as was his wife, Emilene.
Although it had only been a few weeks since they had left Old Nichol, their eyes were bright and they were smiling—an expression rarely seen on their faces before they came to Sorenson Hall. Charlie’s wife, Nora, having no children of her own, had taken the O’Brians under her wing, like a broody hen with motherless chicks.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rod O’Brian and his family were the first of four families Andrew and his benevolent friends brought to Dover from the ghetto known as Old Nichol. Rod was doing well working as a stableman for Lord Sorenson, and Andrew, being acquainted with most of the ship’s captains, was able to find jobs on a ship for two more of the men. The fourth found employment in the brewery. Only one family had been brought to Dover at a time, since it took a great deal of effort to get them settled. Accommodation had to be found and help needed to aid them in adjusting to a different lifestyle—a style far better in most regards than what they were accustomed to.
The only negative aspect they had to contend with was that they now lived in a world where people were pigeonholed into separate classes, and, unfortunately, the class they were in was one of the lowest. In the ghetto some were more destitute than others, but they all enjoyed the same rank, thus were free to openly express their opinions. Now they were obliged to forfeit that privilege and live a life of servitude. As Rod so aptly put it, “Mind you, I’d not want to go back there, but as bad as it were, there’s lots I still misses ’bout it!”
Even though Rod’s presence in Dover posed a certain threat to Gladys, she didn’t worry about it. She knew how thankful he was and trusted him to keep her true identity a secret. On their arrival in Dover, the families were taken directly to an outbuilding on Lord Sorenson’s estate where delousing remed
ies and tubs of hot water awaited them. Helping rid the families of lice and grime was a heart-wrenching chore for the volunteers, but even worse for the frightened victims who had to suffer the embarrassment of stripping down and exposing their naked, skeletal bodies—most covered in ugly sores. Fortunately, Jim Thornberry, a local doctor and humanitarian, not only donated his services, but also supplied the medications needed, along with soothing salves and creams.
Andrew, Randolph Mansfield, Lord Cedric, and Hugh Mason managed to see to the grooming and clothing of the men and the boys. Hugh was happy to be of help, considering it a practicum for his upcoming missionary work. Gladys, Mrs Grimsby, and Priscilla Mulberry, the girl who had looked after Millie, took care of the ladies, girls, and infants. By the time Gladys had settled Millie’s accounts and paid for her funeral, there was little left of value except bolts of material and a few pieces of furniture. She gave the furniture to Rod, and she and Priscilla used some of the material to make frocks for the females.
Gladys knew what to expect when she and the other two women bathed the young girls, but she pretended to be just as shocked to see how emaciated they were. It brought back so many bad memories of when she was a little girl, although, in comparison, she had fared much better, thanks to her friend Sally.
Gladys found Priscilla was pleasant company and someone she hoped would eventually take Millie’s place as a confidant, so when Andrew offered to hire her as a nanny, Gladys agreed. “If you find you get along well with her, perhaps she can move in with us at Oaken Arms,” he suggested. Surprisingly, Gladys was not that taken with the idea. Puzzled, he asked, “I thought you were becoming quite fond of her.”
“I am, but she has had no formal education, and shouldn’t a nanny, or governess, be able to teach her ward as well as care for her?”
