The Girl From Poorhouse Lane

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘You’re losing weight, my darling. You must eat more.’

  ‘Don’t fret, my love, my appetite is small. Not like our fine boy here. See how he is eating. Doesn’t he look well?’ But as Eliot turned to give more attention to his adopted son, he failed to notice how his wife laid a hand to her side and winced slightly. Kate saw, and hurried over to her only to be shushed and sent away with a whispered assurance that it was nothing more than the result of too little sleep and too much worry. Amelia was determined that this slight feeling of being off-colour, would not in any way mar their first Christmas together as a family. Her eyes shone, her smile never faltered and she devoted all her time and attention to feeding Callum, merely picking at her own food, despite all of Eliot’s efforts to persuade her to eat more.

  Chapter Twelve

  While the gentlemen were enjoying their port, the ladies and the children withdrew to the drawing room. Jack had already broken his Noah’s Ark within an hour of starting to play with it, thrown a tremendous tantrum and been in a sulk ever since, constantly pinching his sister’s toys. This created friction between them and so Kate was invited to accompany them and supervise their play. Lucy looked not only quite worn out but thoroughly ill tempered to boot. She’d barely been presented with her cup of coffee before she began to unleash her bad mood upon her hostess.

  ‘Have you any idea, Amelia, what has possessed Eliot to behave in this outrageous fashion towards Charles? It really is quite appalling to dismiss him, his own brother, in such a peremptory fashion. And at Christmas time, too. What are we supposed to do? Starve?’

  Amelia flushed bright pink. She hadn’t the first idea what her sister-in-law was talking about, but realised instantly that Eliot had obviously attempted to shield her from some unpleasant business or other at the factory. He’d probably thought she had enough on her plate with their lovely son being so ill. She glanced helplessly across at Aunt Vera, who instantly came to her aid.

  ‘It may have something to do with the fact that he no longer trusts him. Brothers are not always on the same side, don’t you know. In fact, my own used to drive me potty, I seem to remember. A martyr to work was our Georgie, never content unless he was out on the road selling his precious shoes, if he wasn’t criticising everything his workers did, that is. He was known to take the last out of their hands and do the job himself if he wasn’t satisfied with the standard of workmanship. But then he was devoted to making the company profitable. Trouble is, unlike Charles, he rarely thought of anything else. Obsessed with the company you might say and certainly succeeded in what he set out to do, otherwise we wouldn’t all be here, would we now?’

  ‘Indeed we wouldn’t,’ Aunt Cissie agreed, nodding eagerly as she always did at her sister’s words.

  ‘Hard work is good for soul, don’t you know. Charles should follow his father’s example and go out on the road too, or serve his time as a shoemaker,’ Vera continued in her most hectoring tone. ‘Make Tyson’s more of a priority, instead of simply trying to line his own pockets.’

  Lucy gasped, all the colour draining from her face and then rushing back again so that twin spots of scarlet flagged each quivering cheek. ‘I will not have him so maligned. Of course Tyson’s has always been a priority for Charles, but really, he is not prepared to stand by and see everything destroyed and taken away from him. Why should he be deprived of what is rightfully his? That is too much to ask.’

  Amelia looked at her blankly. ‘In what way is everything being destroyed, or taken away from him? Has something dreadful happened to the company?’

  There was a small embarrassed silence while everyone considered the open innocence in her face. It was clear that Amelia had given no thought to how the adoption of Callum might be viewed by the rest of the family. Cissie and Vera certainly entertained grave reservations on the subject themselves, though were too fond of dear Eliot and Amelia to own up to them. And it was certainly no fault of the child’s. Even so, they exchanged a speaking glance while Lucy drew breath ready for the next attack.

  ‘You know perfectly well to what I am referring,’ and she looked furiously in the direction of Callum, who was happily struggling to make his top spin.

  Kate took the full impact of the glare instead, and felt her blood run cold. There was pure hatred in it, an indescribable venom, and she felt a prickle of fear pierce her breast. Like Amelia, Kate had never for a moment considered the impact of the adoption upon the rest of the family. Now she saw the implications and felt a paralysing chill.

  Lucy’s voice was rising as she grew ever more frenzied and nobody seemed quite able to stop her. ‘Some things are beyond endurance. To be ousted by a workhouse brat, one of Eliot’s by-blows no doubt. Let’s not mince words, a whore’s bastard, who has robbed my precious darlings of their rightful inheritance. It’s too much to bear. No wonder dear Charles was forced to take steps to protect himself. I dread to think what your late lamented brother would have to say on the matter, Vera, since, as you quite rightly say, he was so passionate about building up the business for the benefit of his own family, not snivelling interlopers. Grasping little offcomers. It’s utterly disgraceful!’

  Vera, for once in her life, was struck speechless and sat opening and closing her mouth like a stranded fish, while Cissie fluttered her hands and kept murmuring, ‘Oh dear - oh dear, dear, dear!’

  Amelia had gone desperately pale. She felt as if someone had plunged a knife into her heart, robbing it of breath and leaving it throbbing with pain. She couldn’t begin to take in the full import of these words yet it was as if she were trapped in a web of unspeakable horror. Was Lucy referring to Callum? How could she be, since he was not – not what she had accused him of being. Eliot had never looked at another woman. Indeed never would. Didn’t they have a perfect marriage? Mistress and maid’s eyes met and a message was exchanged. Perhaps it was this silent communication of understanding which gave her the courage to respond.

  ‘I think you’ve said enough, Lucy. I – I’m not quite sure what it is, exactly, that you are implying but I won’t stand for it. It simply isn’t true to say . . .’

  Bunty, who’d been given a Pollock’s Toy Theatre for Christmas, chose precisely that moment to let out a piercing scream as her brother snatched one of the paper actors out of her hand. Having witnessed all of this dreadful scene with growing horror, Kate grasped at the opportunity of a diversion with heartfelt relief. Leaping to her feet, she announced in her briskest, nanny-like tones: ‘Now Master Jack, I think we are getting a trifle out of sorts. Come along, children. Time for our naps, is it not? Let us tidy away our toys like good little boys and girls, and we’ll all go up to the nursery for a little rest before tea time. Say good afternoon to the ladies nicely, and if you are very, very good, I shall read you a story from Callum’s new book.’

  She was only too delighted to escape this dreadful scene, longing to have her child to herself for a while, to give him the present she had bought him. It was a lovely book called Little Stories for Little Folks, and she looked forward to cuddling him on her lap while she read to him; to kiss the soft, pink curve of his plump cheek and breathe in the dear, sweet baby scent of him.

  Gathering her charges, she led them quietly from the room. As she softly closed the door, Kate paused and waited for a moment, fearful that mayhem might again break out but after a long, painful silence she heard Cissie’s voice pipe up.

  ‘Got a new bitch the other day. I think she’ll be a cracker. Good show dog potential. Bound to be a winner at the County Show in a year or two, mark my words.’

  Kate heaved a sigh of relief and left them to it, hoping against hope that Lucy’s vindictive outburst would not be repeated. She also prayed that these slurs against her own character would not affect the way Amelia felt about Callum, or result in her being dismissed. She paused again at the foot of the stairs. Glancing back at the closed door, she gathered the children safely about her ready for the ascent, anxiously wondering if Amelia had believed all
that nonsense about Callum being Eliot’s by-blow. Then the door opened and there stood her mistress. Calm and unruffled as ever, she looked the very picture of the perfect hostess dealing with a minor indiscretion on the part of a guest who had unnecessarily upset one of the servants.

  ‘Ah Kate, I’m glad you haven’t quite gone.’ She hurried over, grasped the knob at the foot of the banister and peered earnestly up into her face. ‘Don’t let Lucy’s words upset you. I shall make it perfectly clear to her about your married status and how Callum’s father was tragically killed. As for my dear sister-in-law’s other comments, I shall treat those with the contempt they deserve. I want you to understand that no matter what she might say, I don’t believe a word of it. Eliot is true to me, and always has been.’

  ‘I’m obliged, ma’am.’ Kate wondered if she should curtsey or something, but Jack and Bunty had grown bored with waiting, and were starting to climb the stairs on their bottoms.

  ‘As for the adoption … well, Callum is our son in every way that matters.’ Amelia dropped her voice to a confidential whisper. ‘And just between ourselves, Kate, whoever inherits the business is really none of her business. That is for Eliot to decide. As if I would dream of interfering, or think to intervene on her children’s behalf. Tush, the very idea! Not women’s business at all.’

  Kate inwardly smiled at this complete and utter trust and dependence upon the male of the species. But then Amelia had never been compelled to earn her own living, or fend for herself in any way. ‘I’m sure you know best how to deal with the matter, ma’am. I’d hate it if you and Mr Tyson were wounded by malicious gossip.’

  ‘It won’t happen. We won’t allow it to happen. We – I - believe in you utterly.’

  ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ Kate felt a surge of gratitude and such a rush of loyalty and love for her mistress, she very nearly put her arms about Amelia and hugged her, but stopped herself just in time. Jack and Bunty had reached the first landing. ‘I’d best take the children up now, hadn’t I, ma’am?’

  ‘Yes do, Kate. I just wanted you to know that you are not to worry. It has been such a lovely Christmas, with our little boy fit and well again. I refuse to allow one of Lucy’s tantrums to spoil it for us.’ Then she leaned over and kissed Callum on his soft, flushed cheek. ‘He isn’t too hot, is he?’

  Kate smiled. ‘No ma’am, just falling asleep in me arms, and what a weight he is to hold these days. Yer looking after him too well, I’m thinking,’ and both women laughed, united in their love for the child and agreeing that Kate would bring all three children, and the new baby, down again later, after their rest.

  As Kate reached the landing and captured Jack just as he was attempting to slide down the banister, she saw Amelia pause at the drawing room door before stiffening her spine and walking inside with a bright, ‘Now where were we? Vera dear, do you think you could manage a small sherry, it being Christmas?’

  Kate read the story, enjoying a precious half hour with her son. The little boy was as good as gold, as he always was for her, rubbing his sleepy head against her breast, as if he instinctively knew that here was where he truly belonged. The new baby had been fed, and changed, and gone off to sleep again without a murmur. Jack and Bunty were another matter entirely, as naughty as they could possibly be, refusing to get into the little beds prepared for them, pulling each other’s hair and squabbling the whole time. Bunty kept screaming and stamping her little foot in a fury of temper and Jack peevishly pinched his sister’s bottom. A fight ensued and Kate had to drag the pair apart and scold them firmly, leaving Bunty in tears and Jack in a scowling sulk. It took an age but she’d just got all the children settled down, and quiet had descended, allowing her a few moments peace at last, when there came a tap at the door. Oh no, not more trouble, she thought, putting down the magazine she’d been nodding over. Getting wearily to her feet she opened the door to find Eliot standing there with a parcel in his hands.

  ‘I’m playing Santa Claus and delivering your present.’

  Kate gasped. ‘I wasn’t expecting one.’

  ‘The servants will be getting theirs later, of course, after supper, and there’ll be a small one for you, nuts or a handkerchief or some such. But you are different, Kate, and deserve a little something extra. I know things haven’t been easy for you below stairs, so thought it best if you opened it in private. We’ve said nothing about the problems you’ve been having with the other servants, because we weren’t sure how we could help, but we want you to know that you are particularly special to us, Kate, for giving us Callum.’

  Kate swallowed the hard lump which had sprung into her throat. How she wished they wouldn’t keep reminding her of that fact. How she wished she hadn’t felt compelled to hand him over to them in the first place, just as if he were a stray dog or cat. Couldn’t they understand how very difficult it was for her? There were times, like now when she’d been reading him a story and putting him to bed, that she wondered why on earth she’d agreed to his crazy scheme. But then, would Callum have lived to see this Christmas if they’d stayed in Poor House lane? She very much doubted it. ‘Mrs Petty and I had a lovely chat only this morning, sir. I’m sure things are going to improve in that department.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He handed over the parcel, wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with a red ribbon. ‘Open it.’

  ‘Thank you, there was really no need.’

  ‘There is every need.’

  Kate took it from him, feeling the slightest touch of his cool fingers as she did so, then hurriedly set the parcel to one side. She could tell at once that it was a book, but she could feel her cheeks growing hot and flushed with the embarrassment of this oddly personal moment. ‘I’d like to open it later, when I’m alone, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘No, no, I insist you open it now. I need to know if you approve.’ He came in and made himself comfortable on the rocking chair she’d just vacated, briefly stroking Callum’s sleeping head before looking up at her with a smile. The gesture, and the fact that he looked so very much the excited schoolboy, meant that she couldn’t possibly disappoint him. Kate found that her hands were shaking as she removed the wrappings. The book was a compendium of flowers and trees, almost as if he were willing her to understand his own passion, and to share it. Her first reaction was to smile, but then Kate experienced a terrible longing to sit down and cry her eyes out.

  ‘You like it?’

  ‘I do indeed, sir. Thank you kindly.’

  ‘I’m a dreadful garden bore, I’m afraid.’ He was smiling too but made no move to go. After a moment the smile faded but still he kept on looking at her and, as before, she found herself mesmerised by that gaze. There it was again, that frisson between them, that yearning which seemed to paralyse her brain, leaving her utterly breathless and quite unable to move or drag her eyes from his.

  ‘You won’t ever leave, will you, Kate?’

  ‘As if I would leave Callum.’ Or you, she thought. ‘Never. Anyway, how could you all manage without me?’

  He chuckled. Once again he was struck by her vulnerability, her apparent fragility. Still too thin but bright of eye and steady as a rock in her resolve not to complain but to deal with whatever life flung at her. He admired that in her, enjoyed their little chats together, the fact she felt able to freely speak her mind. She’d certainly given him short shrift that time over his neglect of the business, and she’d been absolutely right. ‘That’s good. So long as I know you are here, I am content.’

  ‘And why would you not be content, I’m thinking, with all of this?’ Her hand lifted to encompass the house, the lovely view of the river. Callum. But inside, her heart was fluttering like a wild bird caught in a cage. Did he mean that he couldn’t bear to be without her? That he loved to have her near him? Kate could still recall the magic of those kisses under the mistletoe, one on each cheek, and her knees almost buckled as she imagined him doing it again, with no one else around this time.

  ‘Perhaps one has to
suffer a little before one properly learns to appreciate what one has, otherwise I expect we would take it for granted.’

  ‘I’m sure that is so.’

  ‘But then I often fail in my duty, Kate, perhaps because I don’t have your strength of character.’

  ‘Tch! I don’t believe that for a moment. Too soft-hearted for your own good, that’s all that’s wrong with you. But aren’t you the boss of yer own empire, with the power almost of life and death over the poor souls who work for you?’

  He was openly laughing now, leaning back in the rocking chair with one leg propped comfortably upon the other, revealing his contentment to be there with her, just talking. ‘I reckon the unions would have a say in the matter if that were true, which fortunately it isn’t. But I love to hear your frank views. Don’t ever be afraid to express them.’ They both turned their heads as they heard the sound of raised voices from below. Eliot got reluctantly to his feet, a rueful expression on his face. ‘You know that I shouldn’t even be here.’ He sounded sad but not regretful, as if he’d be quite glad to stay, instead of returning to the fray of domestic disharmony downstairs.

  ‘Indeed, I dare say you shouldn’t.’

  ‘The gift was simply an excuse. I just wanted to see you.’

  Kate’s heartbeat hammered in her chest. What did he mean by that? An excuse for what? Why would he want to see her?

  He went on to explain that Amelia had meant to give her the book later that evening, when Kate brought the children back down. ‘But I wanted to see you, just for a moment, to say how grateful I am that you agreed to the adoption, and stayed to look after Callum so well. His presence has made a world of a difference to Amelia. She is quite her old self again: relaxed and happy. I also wanted to say how very pretty you looked earlier, so pink-cheeked and shining that I simply couldn’t resist leaving my guests and sneaking upstairs. I hope you don’t think me very wicked?’