‘Mrs Musgrove, please get out of here. I have had more than enough worry for one day without you adding to it. My daughter has been arrested and taken to the Calton Jail.’
‘Does Mr Stirling know?’
‘About Clementina? Of course. That’s why he came today. Immediately he—’
‘About you.’
‘About me.’
‘Have you told him?’
Lorianna began to fiddle distractedly with a lock of her hair. ‘Why should I tell him how unhappy I was with Gavin? What good would it do?’
‘Oh, madam!’
‘Why are you looking at me like that? Just go away!’ Her voice had become plaintive and tinged with apprehension, like that of a frightened child.
‘Hiding from the truth won’t help you now.’
‘Go away, do you hear?’
‘You not only committed murder, but you allowed someone else to die for your crime. That’s how the law would look at it and Mr Stirling is a lawyer.’
‘Are you threatening me?’
‘I am trying to help you.’
‘John loves me.’
Mrs Musgrove’s travesty of a smile chilled Lorianna. ‘Oh, you mean he would stand by you no matter what you had done. I wonder! But of course, Mr Stirling is not the only member of the male sex you would have to consider. There is also your son.’
Lorianna suddenly withered back and was silent.
‘One thing you can be sure of,’ Mrs Musgrove said. ‘You will always have me.’
53
The new family were in the house by the time Rhona got back to the village. The lock on the door had been changed and she was unable to force her way in, although she tried with all the strength and wildness that was in her. Shouting broken-hearted obscenities, she battered at it with her fists, kicked it and tugged at the handle.
Round the back in the coal-shed she found her few sticks of furniture. Her personal things, mostly articles which Clementina had given her, were in a tin box. She took this with her when she eventually left the house and ran towards the mill, fuelled by various emotions not the least of which was shame at being flung out on the streets. She made straight for the counting house where Mr Gilbert’s office was situated, but was forcibly prevented from getting near the office door by one, two and then three clerks who had to use all their strength to drag her away. As she fought with them, cutting one on the mouth with the corner of her tin box, she shouted, ‘That dirty bastard can’t do this to me.’ Her voice raised to a scream: ‘I’ll get you for this, do you hear?’
The cashier came hurrying towards the knot of men struggling with Rhona; she reminded him of a wildcat he had once seen near Loch Lomond when he had been staying at his brother’s cottage. She had the same narrow, evil-gleaming eyes.
‘Stop this dreadful behaviour at once!’ he commanded. ‘What do you expect Mr Gilbert to do when an employee is absent from her machine? And as if that’s not bad enough, you have been in prison. We don’t want your sort here—just take your cards and get out. If I see you anywhere near here again I’ll send for the police.’ Then to the men who were struggling, grey-faced and breathless, to hold her, ‘See that you put her right out on the street where she belongs.’
This time she was literally flung on to the road, landing with a jolt on her right hip and elbow that sent pain stabbing up her arm and across her abdomen. Her tin box clattered on to the cobbles at her side. As she struggled to her feet, such a conflagration of hatred blazed within her that it cauterized the pain. She cursed the Blackwood mill, every dirty red brick of it, and everyone in it—and Gilbert Blackwood in particular. She hoped he would have nothing but bad luck and tragedies in his life from that moment on. She concentrated all her venom on him, wishing with all the passion in her that he would suffer the torments of hell. She cursed him and spat on the gates before tearing herself reluctantly away, feeling she had not done nearly enough but comforting herself with assurances that she wasn’t finished with him yet. Her chance would come and he’d live to regret bitterly how he’d treated her. She’d find a way!
Her passion was so strong that it carried her along the street in her usual proud, head-tossing, hip-swinging swagger. But then, a lack of direction began to creep over her, allowing the pain to return. She had nowhere to go. The sudden knowledge brought an eruption of fear which she immediately quelled. She even laughed at herself. Of course she had somewhere to go. Wasn’t she a good friend of Mr Gilbert’s sister? Oh, what a bloody laugh! How about that, Mr High and Mighty Gilbert? Stepping out with a swing again and enough impudent bravado to cock a snoot at the pain, she took the road over the hills to Blackwood House.
Clementina would surely be there by now. They had said at the Jail that Lord Monteith had called for her several days ago. Wasn’t it just like life that the ladies got out first and poor sods like herself with no lords to collect them were kept in longer?
She had become quite a regular visitor to the tower house to see Clementina and although the mistress of the house was still unaware of her existence, the staff knew her by sight and would cause no problems if they saw her coming in at the side door and sauntering up the servants’ stairs.
Even the big gorgon of a housekeeper would be unlikely to stop her, unless of course to command her to wipe her feet and ask if Miss Clementina was expecting her. There might be some suspicion and questions about the tin box though, so just to be on the safe side she hid it under some bushes in the lane before reaching the tall wrought-iron gates of Blackwood House. She would collect it later, perhaps when it was dark. She felt excited now. Exhilaration was laced with fear, but not of a negative kind. It was more a hysteria that peppered her emotions, sparkled her eyes and brought a strange smile to her lips.
She was glad she was wearing her good black coat and mauve hat, and her beautiful amethyst earrings. Clementina had said they were not real amethysts, but who was to know that? She looked as much a bloody lady as anyone she would be likely to meet here. The thought bolstered her courage as she went through the gates and up the long carriage drive. It was then that hatred and bitterness entered her soul. Why should some people enjoy living in a beautiful place like this when others were condemned to spend their lives in ugliness and squalor? Why should people like Clementina Blackwood have so many material possessions that she could give away expensive clothes without as much as a thought? What made her one of the chosen few?
When the house loomed into view her feelings of resentment intensified. Here was space to breathe and stretch and live life to the full and here only two women lived: Clementina and her mother—neither of whom, she had not the slightest doubt, appreciated in the least how incredibly lucky they were. She went round to the yard and in through the side door. The corridor was shadowy and had a line of filled coal-scuttles along one side. She banged her leg against the sharp edge of one of them as she passed and cursed it under her breath. Through the closed door of the kitchen she could hear a woman’s voice echoing angrily.
Rhona concentrated on moving smoothly and silently, although she couldn’t help the slight scuffling sound her boots made on the flagstones. Up the stairs… . Now the tricky part… . The library corridor and the reception hall. Here she could quite easily be seen by Mrs Blackwood or any member of the family who happened to be visiting. But an empty hush lay over the place and she was able to glide across the luxurious carpet to open the tower door and slip safely up the tower stair. When she reached the schoolroom she didn’t knock but just opened the door and walked in.
Clementina was sitting by the fire reading a book. She didn’t look round at first, obviously expecting it to be her maid—someone she thought unworthy of any attention, no doubt. At that moment, staring at Clementina comfortably ensconced by the big warm fire in her good quality handstitched skirt and blouse, at the neck of which hung the art nouveau pendant of enamelled bluebirds’ wings with a mother-of-pearl drop that Lord Monteith had given her for Christmas, Rhona hated her.
/> ‘Rhona!’ Clementina gasped in astonishment. ‘What are you doing here? I thought I would see you at the hall tonight.’
‘Still friends, are we?’ Somehow she managed to make the word sound like an insult.
‘Of course. Why shouldn’t we be? Come over here by the fire and get a heat. You look awful.’
‘So would you look bloody awful if you had been thrown out of your home and lost the only means of livelihood you had.’
‘Bloody hell!’ Clementina said. ‘Now what are you going to do?’
‘That’s up to you. You got me into this mess—you, with all your meetings and talk about freedom and women’s rights. What rights have I got now, eh? And what freedom—except the freedom to freeze to death or starve!’
‘I’ll see that doesn’t happen, don’t worry.’
Rhona crouched down in front of the fire, palms caressing the heat radiating from it. ‘“Don’t worry,” she says,’ she echoed sarcastically. Then a spasm of pain twisted her face as she hitched herself nearer the warmth.
‘What’s wrong?’ Clementina’s voice sharpened. ‘Have you been hurt?’
‘I told you. Your precious brother had me thrown out.’
‘You mean, literally… .’
‘What else? I still feel as if the cobbles are digging into me. I must be black and blue.’
Clementina’s eyes and mouth hardened. ‘How dreadful! I shall have a word or two to say to him about this. And he’s my half-brother, by the way, not my brother.’
Rhona shrugged. ‘What difference does that make?’
Clementina glanced up at the clock. ‘McGregor will be here any minute with my lunch tray. Were you seen coming up?’
‘No.’
‘Very well. I’ll hide you here until we can work something out. You can sleep in Miss Viners’ old room and during the day you can be in here. If you hear McGregor coming, just hide in that cupboard. There’s plenty of space inside. I think I heard the landing door creak just now.’
Clementina put out a hand to help Rhona up, but it was brushed aside as the girl sprang to her feet like a young gazelle and was across the room and into the cupboard in a matter of seconds.
Later, after McGregor had gone, leaving a tray on which sat a bowl of soup, bread and butter and a plate of apple pudding, Rhona emerged to immediately wolf down the lot. There was not even a crumb of bread left for Clementina.
‘There are plenty of books to read to pass the time,’ Clementina said. ‘I have to go out. I’ve to see the girls and discuss some last-minute details about the meeting.’
Rhona suddenly remembered. ‘You mean the one about contraception?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve got to hand it to you,’ Rhona said grudgingly. ‘You’ve certainly got a nerve.’
‘We had no choice, as you well know. So many women are clamouring for information that a public meeting’s the only way.’
‘Well, I’ve had enough. I’m not going to any more of your bloody meetings—public or private.’
‘I quite understand.’
‘You understand nothing,’ Rhona sneered.
Clementina rose and briskly smoothed down her skirt. ‘I shall be back before dinner. I dine downstairs, but I’ll try to slip some food up to you.’
‘I can hardly wait!’ said Rhona sarcastically.
Clementina’s green eyes gave her a sharp appraisal. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’
‘What do you care?’
‘Don’t be silly, of course I care. You’re my friend. You stood by me when I was hurt and needing help.’
‘I’m all right.’
She barely gave Clementina a scowling glance as she left the room, but later she took up a stance at one of the narrow windows to watch the small trim figure in neat short coat and black straw boater mount her bicycle and ride off down the drive.
No sooner had the figure disappeared then she felt unbearably lonely and eaten up with regret. Going over to the fire, she flung herself on to the floor in front of it and began to weep broken-heartedly.
54
‘It’s just that it’s so soon after what we all had to come through at the Edinburgh demonstration,’ Eva said. ‘We have hardly had time to recover.’
‘I can’t see how we can back out now, even if we wanted to,’ Millicent told her.
Betsy tossed her head. ‘I’m still game, anyway.’
Agnes’s eyes were strained and unhappy but she said, ‘Yes, we’ve gone this far. We can’t let people down at the last minute, it wouldn’t be right.’
‘I can understand how Eva feels, though,’ Clementina said. ‘The establishment is going to get to know about this and throw up its hands in horror. A lot of people are going to be not just shocked but outraged.’
Betsy laughed. ‘That’s putting it mildly. Wait until they hear what I have to say about venereal disease.’
‘Do you really think you should, Betsy?’ Agnes asked. ‘I mean, don’t you think that’s going a bit too far? I admire your courage and your candour of course. But to men it’s unthinkable that a proper woman should broach the subject of male sexuality—and venereal disease.’
‘I know, I know,’ said Betsy cheerfully. ‘That will shatter their romantic conception of women, their rules about what makes a “proper woman”, better than anything else ever could. I shall broach the subject all right, Agnes, and in clear and ringing tones, and in the worst possible taste!’
Millicent giggled. ‘Betsy!’
‘I mean it,’ Betsy said. ‘It’s the only way. It stands to reason—they can’t keep telling us what the rules of “woman’s true nature” are if we keep smashing them and proving to them that these rules are only figments of their wishful imaginations.’
‘The problem is,’ Clementina said, ‘that men are not logical. That they are creatures of reason is only another of the myths they have created. Women are only asking for a share in the political franchise and look how men are reacting—with absolute irrationality and ungovernable frenzy. Reason is just the name they use for their own emotions.’
A sigh lifted Eva’s flat chest. ‘I wish I could feel as brave as you and Betsy, Clementina. I agree with everything you say of course, but …’
Agnes gently squeezed Eva’s arm. ‘We all feel as you do at times, dear. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘It will be different from being out in the street, you’ll see,’ Kitty said. ‘All that crowd milling about and those awful rowdies …’
‘The boys in blue you mean?’ Betsy asked sarcastically.
‘Oh, but surely the police will have to maintain order and keep the peace and protect us at a public meeting?’
‘They should have maintained order, kept the peace and protected us in Parliament Square.’
‘Anyway,’ Kitty said recklessly, ‘I don’t care. I’m going tonight. We owe it to our sisters who are being kept in bondage through ignorance and the dangers of continuous childbirth.’
‘Hear! Hear!’ said Millicent.
‘You don’t need to go, Eva,’ Clementina said. ‘Or you, Agnes. The rest of us would quite understand. You suffered more than any of us in Edinburgh—you had to endure terrible humiliation as well as physical pain.’
‘All the more reason,’ Agnes said quietly but firmly, ‘why I should be loyal to the cause of justice for women. My mind’s made up and I’m coming. I’m partly responsible for the production of the pamphlets anyway, so I ought to be there to help with their distribution.’ She sighed. ‘And none of us have suffered as much as poor Rhona. She has lost her job and been flung out of her home on top of everything else.’
‘Talk about nerve!’ Betsy said. ‘I always prided myself on being pretty spunky, but I would never have had the nerve to do what you’re doing, Clementina. To hide that girl under your mother’s roof is absolutely stunning!’
Clementina shrugged. ‘I have to do something. It was because of me that Rhona got arrested and imprisoned. And what makes thing
s even worse is the fact that it’s one of my family who has sacked her and put her out of her house. I’m really worried about her. She won’t admit it, you know what she’s like, but she doesn’t look at all well.’
‘What are you going to do with her?’ Millicent asked. ‘You can’t keep her there forever.’
‘I have no idea. I’m just going to take one thing at a time. The first item to worry about is the meeting.’
‘That’s right,’ Eva suddenly burst out. ‘And I’m coming too. I know you would forgive me if I stayed away, but I’d never forgive myself.’
‘It’s all settled, then,’ said Clementina. ‘We meet at the hall tonight.’
Cycling up Hopeton Street, she tried not to think any more about the coming meeting in the Co-op Hall. It was something that had to be faced, that was all, and she would face it head on.
It was a cold day and by the time she had reached the Drumcross Road and dismounted because in parts it was too steep to cycle up, it had become still colder. The wind was hard and the air light. It was going to be a frosty evening. Before she had reached the top of the road she could hear hounds baying in full chorus and then the thud, thud of horses’ hooves and the crash of bushes as the field took the jump. She breasted the hill and stopped to watch the hunt streaming along in their bright pink coats and yellowish-cream buckskins. Suddenly she recognised one of the riders on a big dock-tailed horse. Instead of yellowish buckskins like most of the others, Douglas Monteith was wearing very white and well-made leathers and looked extremely smart. She noted with some exasperation that her heart quickened at the sight of him. She found difficulty in breathing and warm colour began to creep up from her neck and suffuse her face.
Seeing her, he gave her a friendly wave in passing and she waved back energetically and with a spontaneous eagerness that embarrassed her afterwards. Especially when she noticed that the calm and aristocratic Lady Alice Cunningham was also one of the riders. Clementina became prey to extremes of emotion every time she was in Monteith’s presence, it seemed, even for such a fleeting moment. It was both foolish and regrettable.
Light & Dark Page 41
