Salem Street

by Anna Jacobs

  “An’ I make some money, too! I do, Annie. I’ve got a tidy bit tucked away in my box, I have. There’s good money in rubbish, if you know what to look for. An’ I know. I didn’t at first, but I do now. I haven’t told no one else about my money. Why should I? They think I’m barmy and they laugh at me, but they give me their old bits an’ pieces. An’ then I laugh at them back, inside me head, like. Only – only sometimes I get a pain in me head and then I have to have a drink till it stops.” He paused, then added softly, “I get lonely, too. I’d like to marry you, Annie. I would. I’d really like it. I’d be kind to you. I wouldn’t hurt you. Nor I wouldn’t touch you in that way. I couldn’t. But you’d have a name for your baby and a house to live in. I’d like to have a baby around, I would. I’d look after him, an’ work hard for you both.”

  He faltered to a stop, for she had bowed her head and was weeping quietly. He leaned over her, patting her back in his agitation. “Don’t cry! Please don’t cry! I’m sorry. I only wanted to help. What is it? Just say no. I’ll not bother you no more, lass.”

  She raised her head and looked at him, her cheeks all wet and tears quivering on her lashes. “Oh, Charlie, Charlie, you’re the kindest man I’ve ever met. You haven’t upset me with your offer. It’s not that. I was crying – oh, because you’re so kind. And most people aren’t. My dad’s been kind too, but he can’t do much to help me, because he’s got Emily and the rest of them to look after. That Miss Collett isn’t really kind. She’s just using me and I hate taking her charity!”

  He sat there with his head on one side and listened carefully. He couldn’t understand all she was saying, because she was speaking too quickly, but she didn’t seem to be angry at him and she hadn’t laughed at his proposal. He sat and watched her with utter patience as she thought over what he’d said. She was thinking hard, he could see that. It’d taken him a long time to think out how he could help her, so he could understand that now she needed time to think out her answer. He waited silently, humbly, not daring to move in case he disturbed her. He knew that he was a poor old wreck of a man, but she was in trouble and she had no one else to turn to.

  Annie rested her head on her hands and shut her eyes. Her first impulse had been to dismiss his offer out of hand. Marry Barmy Charlie! Impossible! But then, as he spoke, she’d begun to think. Fancy not paying any rent! Not to mention getting five shillings a week for doing nothing. It wasn’t enough to live on, but it’d be a nice help. And he’d said he made money from his junk as well. She could help him with that. Or take in sewing. Make more money. But to marry Barmy Charlie! No, she couldn’t! No man was going to touch her again! But – he wouldn’t touch her. He couldn’t. She’d be safe with him. She’d be respectable again. She wouldn’t have to accept anyone’s charity.

  She lifted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. “How much money do you make every week from your junk, Charlie? I have to ask, because we’d have to have enough to live on after the child was born.”

  He gazed at her incredulously, opened his mouth and shut it several times, then managed to stammer, “Some weeks a lot – fifteen shillings, more even, others less, but never less nor five. An’ sometimes I find nice things, things folk have thrown out and I repair them. And that’s extra money. I like mendin’ things, I do.” An idea came to him and he jumped up. “Wait! Wait there, Annie lass!” He stumbled up the stairs, his clogs making a great clattering noise. He’d taken the candle and she was left in the firelight, but she didn’t mind. The dog lifted its head and blew a sigh through its nostrils at her, then settled down to sleep again, only to start up as Charlie came clattering back.

  He had a box in his hands, a dusty, battered tin box. When he dropped it into her lap Annie was surprised at how heavy it was. As it fell open, it showered her with coins which glittered and winked on the dark woollen material of her skirt. She touched them with trembling fingers while he held the candle up for her to see better and the shadows danced around them on the walls. They were guineas, mainly, and there must have been well over a hundred of them.

  She took a long slow breath. “That’s a lot of money, Charlie. You want to be careful with it.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Very careful. I hide it away. I do. An’ no one knows about it. They think I’m barmy. But I’m not barmy, just slow. Not too slow to earn good money, though. No. An’ not too barmy to save my pennies, eh?”

  “Are you sure that you want to marry me? Don’t you mind about the baby? Someone else’s baby?” she questioned. He had to know what he was doing.

  “Sure?” His voice squeaked and he had to stop and swallow again. “Oh, yes, I’m sure, Annie, lass. Very sure. I do want to marry you. Yes, I do. And I’m glad about the baby. I want the baby! I do, that.”

  A great weight slid off her shoulders and she held out her hand to him. “Well, then, we’ll do it. I’ll marry you. And Charlie – I’ll make you a good wife, I promise. I’ll look after you and your house and – and you won’t be sorry.” It meant going back to Salem Street but that was a small price to pay for her freedom and a home for her child.

  His face was a blaze of joy and for a moment she caught a glimpse of the good-looking lad he must once have been. “You – you do mean it, Annie, lass? You wouldn’t tease me about that? No, not you. You’re a nice lass. The best. You won’t be sorry, neither. No! You won’t! You won’t be sorry at all! I’ll look after you proper, I will. And the baby.” He pressed her hand, then sat back and stared at her wonderingly. “Eh, what a day! What a lovely, lovely day!”

  They both sat there very quietly for a few minutes, and it would have been hard to say which of them was the happier.

  15

  May to June 1838

  Annie went back to Number Three alone to tell her father the news. As she had said to Charlie, why wait? She hated it at Collett Hall. They might as well get married straight away. She nearly said ‘get it over with’, but she changed the words just in time. She didn’t mean the marriage, so much as the fuss she knew people would make about her and Charlie. They’d laugh at her for marrying him, but let them! She’d know about the money and they wouldn’t. She could still feel the coins in her fingers. How round and shiny! They had made all the difference when it came to marrying Charlie, for they represented the thing she craved most, security.

  She had already begun to feel protective towards Charlie. He was a nice man, kind and generous. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt him and she wouldn’t let other people hurt him, either. She’d look after him well, better than he’d ever been looked after before.

  She went in through the front door of Number Three and leaned against it. They were all there round the fire, even Tom, and they turned to stare at her, their interest caught by the aura of excitement that hung around her.

  “You all right, our Annie?” asked John.

  “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She drew a deep breath. “I’ve a bit of good news to tell you.”

  “Oh, aye?”

  “I’m going to get married.”

  “What?” That was Emily. “Matt’s never changed ’is mind!”

  “Matt? Oh no! It’s not Matt.”

  “Who is it, then? Who else is there?”

  “It’s – Charlie.”

  “Charlie who?”

  “Charlie Ashworth.”

  They still didn’t understand. This was the bit she’d dreaded. She hated to say it. She’d never say the word again after today. Never. “Barmy Charlie.”

  She shut her eyes tight as they all hooted with laughter. They fell about the room, wiping the tears from their eyes, then breaking into fresh paroxysms of mirth. From time to time, one of them would say, “Barmy Charlie,” and this would set them all off again. Even John joined in the general mirth. Annie stood rigid, waiting for them to finish.

  But after the first burst of laughter Tom didn’t join in. He sat and gazed at Annie speculatively and waited for the rest of them to stop laughing, waited for her to explain her action. She wasn’t daft
, their Annie wasn’t; she’d not marry anyone without a good reason. What did a man like Barmy Charlie have to offer a girl like her?

  “You’re goin’ as soft as he is!” said Emily at last, scornfully, when they realised that Annie meant it.

  “You’re not serious, are you, lass?” asked John sadly. “I mean – you can’t be serious!”

  “I’m serious,” Annie said. “I’m very serious. I want you to come with me to see Mr Hinchcliffe tomorrow and get him to call the banns.”

  “I’ll not!”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? You know why not, Annie, lass! It’s disgusting even to think of it! Why, he’s old enough to be your father and he’s not right in the head!”

  “I don’t find him disgusting. I think he’s a nice man. Kind. And he’s not barmy, he’s just a bit slow, that’s all!”

  John suddenly smacked his hand on his knee. “But he can’t get wed! I mean, not properly he can’t! Not after that accident!”

  “I know.” Annie’s voice was quiet, but sharp. “That’s why I feel I can marry him. I don’t want any fellow touching me again. Fred Coxton’s done me for that.”

  “Nay, lass!” There was a world of sadness in the way he said it.

  Emily spoke now. She’d been following what they said almost as closely as Tom. “But how will y’live? You’ll need a husband as can keep you, with the baby coming.”

  Annie had her tale ready. “Charlie earns more than you’d think with his junk. Not a fortune, but a steady income. And,” she paused for dramatic effect, “he’s got some savings. Not much, but enough to tide us through till I’ve had the baby. After that, I’ll probably take in sewing to help out. I’m a good dressmaker.”

  “I knew you’d not marry him for nothin’, our Annie,” said Tom, nodding in satisfaction.

  “Oh, there’s more reasons that that, even,” she said offhandedly. “I can help him with his business. He’s a good hand at mending things and I’ll have the sense to see what’s worth doing, yes, and to help him to get properly paid for his work, too. I’ve learned a lot since I’ve been in service. With that an’ the sewing, I reckon I can double what he earns now.”

  If they estimated him to earn a few shillings a week, then doubled it, they’d think she was doing all right for herself. The money was the only reason people would accept for her marrying him. She’d got to make them believe Charlie would be able to provide enough for her and the baby, without giving them the idea that there’d be any to spare for them. She nodded at her brother. “If I see any extras for you, our Tom, I’ll tell you. Charlie’s not as strong as he was. He might need help lifting things or fetching them – or dealing with people. Some of them have treated him a bit roughly, taken advantage of him. That’s goin’ to stop from now on. I’ll see you don’t lose by helpin’ us, I promise. We’ll keep the money in the family, eh?”

  Tom nodded. “Aye. Keep it in the family. An’ look after your own.” He grinned at her knowingly. “You an’ me’s not allus got on so well with each other, our Annie, but I reckon we want the same things out of life now.” He rubbed his fingers together as if they held imaginary coins and she nodded. “I reckon we can pull together all right if there’s money to be made.”

  He was only sixteen, but he had a muscular man’s body and a hard expression on his face. He was already known in the Rows as a lad not to be crossed. He hadn’t done well with his learning, and could still only read and write with difficulty, but he was shrewd enough when it came to looking after himself. She remembered how he’d threatened Emily when she’d slapped him. He’d frightened Emily, too, and she’d done as he wanted. Annie wanted him on her side from now on.

  Lizzie and May were tittering away together in the corner and she caught the word ‘barmy’. She turned on them in a sudden fury. “If I ever hear you calling my Charlie barmy again, I’ll lay into you!” She shouted so loudly and looked so fierce that they cowered back before her, mouths gaping in shock. “He’s slow, that’s all he is, slow! He can’t think quickly, but he’s not barmy! And you’d better all remember that!”

  “Nay, lass, calm down!” begged John, shaken by this sudden resurgence of Lucy in his daughter. Just so would Lucy have protected one of her own, eyes blazing and hands on hips. “None of us’ll call your Charlie barmy any more. You hear that, our Lizzie an’ our May?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “It’s Mr Ashworth from now on, an’ see you remember that.”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “But what about the baby?” asked Emily. “Does he understand about the baby?”

  “Yes. Of course he understands. He wants the baby. He must be the only person in this town who does. He can’t have one of his own, so he wants this one.” The fury was subsiding and she felt her knees start to tremble. “I – I’d like to sit down a minute. It’s been a long day.”

  “Get our Annie a cup of tea, May,” said Emily, seeing how pale Annie’s face was and beaded with sweat.

  “She can get her own!”

  Emily raised her hand. “You heard me! Do as you’re told or you’ll get a clout. Cheeky young devil! Here, John, let your Annie have that chair, so she can lean her head back.” With rough sympathy, she pushed Annie down and saw that she drank the tea. Who knew better than she how weak a pregnant woman could feel? She’d been pregnant just about ever since she married John Gibson, pregnant and tired.

  Annie understood the sympathy and fussing for what it was – insurance for the future – but she accepted it gratefully. She’d need help with the baby and if she could spare the odd sixpence, it’d keep Emily willing. After a while she asked John to go along the street and speak to Charlie, to reassure him. He was to arrange to go and see Mr Hinchcliffe in the morning before chapel. They’d all three go. And they’d ask Mr Hinchcliffe to intercede with Miss Collett. Annie didn’t want to upset anybody. She just wanted to save what she could from the ruin of her life.

  Saul Hinchcliffe was as surprised as the Gibsons had been by Annie’s news. He insisted on taking her into the back room and talking to her alone. With him she was a little more honest about the weekly money. At last, when he was satisfied that she knew what she was doing, he agreed to call the banns, but he expressed his deep sadness that she should feel obliged to take such a step.

  “You’re only seventeen, Annie.”

  “Nearly eighteen. Eighteen next week.” The thought surprised her. She had completely forgotten about her birthday until now.

  “That makes very little difference. Charlie is – what – about forty?”

  “About that.” She didn’t even know, but was not going to admit it.

  “That’s a big difference. And then – you’re a very intelligent girl, and pretty, too. How shall you feel living with someone who’s so – er – slow?”

  She looked at him and all at once she looked old and what she had to say remained impressed on his memory. “Yes, I’m young and pretty, Mr Hinchcliffe, and look where it got me! Now I’m poor and in trouble and there’s nothing, nothing respectable that is, that I wouldn’t do to save myself and the child. You’re rich, to a person like me, rich beyond my dreams, and you’ll never have to worry about getting enough food, but if I don’t take this chance, the best chance I’m likely to get, and marry Charlie Ashworth, I’ll likely wind up on the streets, because no one will believe I’m respectable.”

  “But Miss Collett gave you a place!”

  “Miss Collett’s been kind to me, sir, and I’m very grateful to her, but what’ll I do after the baby’s born? Who’ll look after it well enough for what I can spare from my five pounds a year? And I couldn’t leave it with my stepmother.” She did not need to enlarge upon that statement.

  He bowed his head. Her reasoning was only too sound. “Very well, Annie. I’ll call the banns. Go and bring your Charlie in to see me.”

  She hesitated. “Sir, will you speak to Miss Collett for me, as well? I’m a bit afraid to tell her. Will you speak to her before th
e service? Please? I’d be very grateful.”

  “Yes. Yes, I’ll do that for you, Annie. But I think you should wait here in case she wants to see you.”

  “Very well, sir. I’ll send Charlie back with my father after you’ve spoken to him.”

  Miss Collett was a much easier hurdle than either of them had expected. She listened gravely to all that Saul had to tell her while Annie stood and waited in front of them, and then she said quietly, “I think it’s probably the best way out for Annie.”

  Annie nodded. “Yes, miss.”

  “Do you really think so, Miss Collett?” Saul looked relieved.

  “Yes. Yes, I do. Go back to your family now, Annie. Mr Hinchcliffe will call the first banns today.”

  When Annie had left, Saul turned to his guest. “So you really think that Annie’s doing the right thing?”

  “I do. Besides, we can keep an eye on her, can’t we, and help her if she needs it?” She lowered her eyes. “If I may be allowed to link myself with you in this?”

  “My dear Miss Collett, I am overwhelmed, absolutely overwhelmed, by your continuing Christian generosity. You are a shining example to the ladies of my congregation, a shining example.”

  “It’s a pleasure to help you in any way, my dear Mr Hinchcliffe. You must so often feel the lack of a wife to help you in your duties. If I can be of assistance in any way, it would give me great pleasure. I am a lonely woman, a very lonely woman, I’m afraid.”

  His eyes flew to hers in a startled reflex and she smiled tenderly at him. There was no mistaking her meaning. “My dear Miss Collett, I don’t – I …”

  “Could you not call me Pauline?”

  “Pauline.” He said the word reverently, his fists knotting as he nerved himself to speak. “I had not dared to aspire to … not thought that … What could I offer a woman like you?” He gestured round the little room. “Annie just told me that I was rich, but I’m not.”

  “Ah, Saul, what is the use of wealth such as mine if one is lonely? Even helping you in your parish has given such meaning to my life, wonderful meaning. I had long since given up hope of,” she hesitated delicately, “of marriage. Surely an honest man would not let my wealth stand in the way?” She stretched out a hand to him and he took it in a bemused way.