‘How many servants have they?’
‘Oh, only the maid and Bernard’s man, who, as he says, is a jack of all trades. And it’s only a small house. There’s a drawing room downstairs and two small rooms and a kitchen, and four bedrooms and a couple of attics. It’s just a small house, but it’s beautiful, exquisite.’
‘Well, when’s he comin’ to have a talk with me?’
‘I don’t suppose it will be until next…perhaps a week today. I don’t know. He’s going to write. We couldn’t say much to each other, could we now?’—she thrust her chin out towards Aggie—‘with Ben standing over us like a bear. Oh—’ She jumped up from the couch and, standing on the old mat, she spread her arms wide as she said, ‘Oh, I wish we had some music, Mrs Aggie, a piano, anything; I want to dance.’
With the sound of the far door opening, Aggie said, ‘Go on now, dance yourself upstairs and change your togs. Then come down an’ we’ll have something to eat. Did you have anything to eat there?’
‘Yes, tea, with rolled bread and butter.’
She ran from the room now, chanting, ‘Rolled bread and butter. Rolled bread and butter.’
Ben came in and, taking his usual seat, he looked across at Aggie and said, ‘Well?’
‘It’s done, lad. They’re goin’ to be married.’ She watched him now gazing into the fire; then, when he rose to his feet and made for the door again, she said, ‘You’ve got to face it. Where’re you goin’?’
‘Where d’you think?’
‘Now, don’t you go off and get sozzled.’
He turned and looked at her. ‘I wouldn’t waste me money,’ he said.
‘Well, where’re you off to on a Saturday night?’
‘Believe it or not, I’m goin’ to school.’
‘Like hell you are!’
‘Aye, like hell I am, Aggie. You’ve had one surprise tonight, you’re not ready for another. I’ll wait a day or two. But, by the way, do you know that if a fella in his class took a lass out without her having what is called a chaperone, the lass would lose her good name; in fact, from what I hear an’ read, any bloke who had respect for a lass wouldn’t risk it…Think on that, Aggie. Aye, think on it.’
She stared at the closed door for a moment; then she put her hand to her brow as if to support her heavy head, and she said aloud, ‘Oh God! Why didn’t You give him decent legs? At bottom, he’s worth a streetful of gents.’
Six
‘He’s like a fly in the ointment.’
‘Aye, lass, a fly in the ointment. There’s always a fly in the ointment in everybody’s life. But you’ve got to understand why he’s actin’ like he does.’
‘Oh, Mrs Aggie, I can’t take that in. He’s had Annie for years.’
‘Well, from what he tells me, Annie wasn’t what we think she was to him, at least hasn’t been for a long, long time. Anyway, lass, you haven’t got to let him spoil your happiness. No, this is a chance of a lifetime, because nothing like it will ever come your way again. He’s a fine man, and once you’re married to him you’ll go up in the world.’
‘It seems too good to be true at times because you can’t imagine it ever happening before, can you, not with a gentleman and someone like me and…?’
‘Oh’—Aggie flapped her hand, thrusting the suggestion widely aside—‘don’t you believe it. There’s those titled Johnnies up in London, an’ just recently it was in the news-sheet, one of ’em married one of them actresses, not real actresses, just one of those dancing girls, an’ now she’s a Lady something or other. And don’t you remember…well, you’d be old enough, it was the talk of the town, when one of the Broadhurst family took up with a mill lass?’
‘Yes, but he didn’t marry her.’
‘No, he didn’t; but Mr Abel Rundell did in the same situation.’
‘Who was he?’
‘He was afore your time. No, he wasn’t; it was just about when you came on the scene. It was said he was from a ship-ownin’ family, and he married this girl who worked in Mullen’s, you know, the milliners yon side of the market. Oh, you’re not the first, an’ you won’t be the last, my dear, to be lifted out of the lower end.’
‘But…but what’s going to happen to you? I mean, the business will go. How are you going to manage?’
‘Look, that’s the least of your worries. I’ve wanted this business to go for a long time now, although I must say it’s been very profitable, an’ that’s been through your efforts. But once you’re gone I’ll get back into me old seam.’
‘You’ll not; you’ll never be able to go out with a cart again.’
‘Oh, I have no intention of doing that, but the gates will be open and they can bring what stuff they like. And if there’s any writing out to do Ben’ll see to that. He’ll stick by me, come rain, hail or shine.’
‘While I leave you.’
‘Oh, lass, you’re a different kettle of fish altogether.’
Millie now asked thoughtfully, ‘Where do you think Ben’s going at night all dressed up if he’s not going to Annie’s? And he didn’t dress up to go to visit her.’
‘I don’t know, lass. The only thing I know is he’s not comin’ home drunk. And what’s more, he’s taken to smokin’ a pipe.’
‘Smoking a pipe?’
‘Yes. Of course, there’s nothing strange about a man smokin’ a pipe, but I’ve never known him bein’ at it. I smelt the waft of it coming down the stairs. And when he was out…well, I made me way to his abode an’ there it was. An’ not a clay one either, oh no; it was a wooden one. And I recognised the type, too, a meerschaum. My dad used to smoke one of those, an’ they don’t come cheap. You can get two clay ones for a penny, but you’ll not get one of those under a bob. And you know, lass, I’ve got it in me mind he’s up to something. If you’re puzzled as to where he goes off to at night, I’m more puzzled, I can tell you. He’s never sat down with us one night this week, and here’s Thursday.’
Millie’s thoughts were not on Ben now, but on how near Thursday was to Saturday and Bernard. Oh, she couldn’t wait for Saturday. She was literally ticking the hours off. She hadn’t had a full night’s sleep this week: she had lain in bed imagining she was in another bed, in that lovely bedroom set in that wonderful house which would soon be hers. Could she believe it? Could she believe it?
Yes, she could, because, as Mrs Aggie said, there were men such as Bernard who, through love, stooped and lifted people like herself out of the mire; although, she must give credit where it was due: she had never considered this house and the company of Mrs Aggie and Ben such as would come under the name of mire, even if it was set in a district amid the dregs of society, working dregs maybe, but, nevertheless, dregs.
She was brought from her musing by Aggie having a bout of coughing which seemed to rack her broad chest; and it caused her to say with concern, ‘I’ve told you, you should be in bed.’
The bout over, Aggie sat gasping for a moment or so before she could bring out the words, ‘Bed? I’ve never taken to bed yet with a cold an’ it’ll have to step itself up before it gets me there now. Look; pour that bottle of beer into a pan and warm it, and put a spoonful of ginger in it. That’ll do the trick.’
‘It hasn’t so far this week, has it? You must be burnt up with ginger inside you.’
‘Well, I’m dilutin’ it now, miss, havin’ it in the hot ale. So, get on with it.’
Millie now hurried into the scullery and returned with a pan, and, as she was about to pour the beer into it, the door opened and Ben entered.
In the ordinary way, after glancing at him, she would have carried on with the job in hand; but now she straightened her back, as did Aggie. Why, neither of them could have explained, only that he looked different. It wasn’t his face. Perhaps it was the new top hat he was sporting or the good second-hand coat that had a bit of astrakhan on the collar. But no; not even the coat and hat made the difference.
‘What you lookin’ at?’
‘You, of course,’ said A
ggie. ‘Who else is there to look at?’
‘Well, why look so surprised; you’ve seen me before.’
‘Aye, I have, more times than I want to, I can tell you. But what have you done with yourself?’
‘Oh, you’ve noticed. Is it me new coat?’
‘No. No, not quite, it isn’t your new coat, it’s…’
‘Oh! Oh!’ He looked down at his feet now. ‘It’s me boots. They’re new, you see.’
Both Aggie and Millie looked at his boots. They were new.
‘I had them specially made.’
‘You had them specially made?’
‘Aye, Aggie, that’s what I said: I had them specially made. An’ the difference you’re findin’ in me is…well, me legs are still the same length, but I’ve gone a little taller, a good inch and a half. Oh yes, a good inch and a half, which makes a difference.’
Aggie’s voice was low as she asked, ‘How did you manage that?’
‘Oh, it’s somethin’ I should have thought about long before now if I’d had any sense. But of course, you’ve got to have the boots made, an’ they don’t come cheap. An’ they haven’t got to be heavy, so as you can’t lift your feet. And the uppers have got to look as if they come down within a sole distance of the floor; they’ve got to look natural like. And you’ll notice, if I turn round’—which he did now—‘there’s a good bit of heel on the back. And, you know, the best part about it is they’re not even as heavy as me workin’ boots. Fred Pasternack is a real good snob. He’d have to be, wouldn’t he, to make ridin’ boots for the gentry. And what’s more, he’s a very understandin’ man, and he likes a challenge.’
‘Well! Well! We’re certainly goin’ up in the world, so to speak, aren’t we?’ Millie had mouthed the words without making any sound; but, as if he had heard them, he said, ‘Yes, you’re goin’ up in the world an’ into a new position, Millie; I’m goin’ teachin’.’
‘Teachin’? You?’
The bark he now gave startled both Aggie and Millie: ‘Aye, teaching. Me!’ he said. ‘I haven’t wasted me time all these years, Mrs Winkowski: me body’s lived in this warren but me head’s been somewhere else. You mightn’t, but other people have noticed it. Aye, they’ve got their wits about them, they see beyond the clothes, an’ the height, not forgettin’ the voice that knew nowt at one time about speakin’ properly. It’s some years now, Aggie, since I learned that a noun is a name of anything.’
Aggie didn’t come back at him with a protest louder than his; instead, her answer was, ‘Well, now that you’ve got that off your chest, you can tell us how all this has come about.’
After a moment of hesitation, he said, ‘Well, in the first place it was Mrs Sponge.’ He was looking at Millie now. ‘She asked me if I’d like to take the little ’uns. Of course, I laughed at her and said I wasn’t fit. But she said I was fit enough to learn them their ABC. And…well, I found I liked it. I got interested.’ He now glanced towards Aggie, saying, ‘They wanted to know if I would take the morning class, but I explained I had a job to do. So they decided I could go there at nights, an’ suggested that I could rake in a few youngsters from this end.’
‘Huh!’ The sound came from Aggie, and she added, ‘That’ll take some doin’. You’d have to have a pocket full of coppers to bribe them.’
‘You’d be surprised, Aggie, you’d be surprised. I’ve got four, I’ll bet, waitin’ for me outside the gate now. Of course, it could be the mug of cocoa they get at the end; but they’ve been regular over the past few months.’
‘You’ve been doin’ this for months?’
‘Oh, aye, for months. But—’ He now looked down towards his new boots and his voice was just above a mutter as he said, ‘But the learnin’ of the bairns only proves one thing, I’ve got a lot to learn meself. But I’ll get there…They wanted to send me away, you know, to learn proper; there’s schools for such as me; but I said no.’ His chin was up now and he was staring at Millie. ‘You’ll see, I’ll get there. And on me own, with a little help, of course. I might even become another Terrence Sponge and stand on a box in the park on a Sunday. Anyway,’ he ended, on a short laugh, ‘that’s me life all set ahead. Now we all know where we’re goin’, don’t we? And I hope it turns out as we intended. We’ll just have to work at it, won’t we, Millie?’
She didn’t answer, but her mind was crying, Oh, Ben. Oh, Ben. He was so bitter and so sad. The sadness was in his eyes and behind the bitterness in his voice. If only…What was she talking about? As he said, their lives were set out before them.
‘Goodnight, Aggie. By the way, I’d go to bed early if I were you, with that cold. You can lock up ’cos I won’t be callin’ in later. But I’ll see to the back gate.’
After he had gone the room seemed strangely empty, and neither of them made any comment for some time until Millie said, ‘He’s right, you know: you should go to bed, Mrs Aggie.’
‘Oh, shut up, girl. Don’t turn the conversation. But there’s only one thing I’m glad about concerning him: he’s workin’ it out of himself. An’ because of it I shouldn’t wonder he’ll make something of himself in the end.’ Then, her voice lightening, she said, ‘But he did look taller, didn’t he? Couldn’t tell what it was at first, but it’s made a difference. It’s a wonder he never thought of it before. Amazing what an inch or two will do. But when you think of it, I bet you a shillin’ there’s not a man over five foot six in all The Courts. Aye, but now—’ Her voice changing, she muttered, ‘But what a difference six inches would make to any man.’
Seven
‘I shouldn’t be going.’
‘Look, we’ve had this out, haven’t we? And you’re all dressed up.’
‘Well, let him come in just for a moment. I think he wants to speak to you. He said he did.’
‘Lass, I can hardly get me breath. An’ the place stinks of camphorated oil, besides other things. And it’s like a hovel, because you can’t be in three places at once: at your cooking, at the gate, and here lookin’ after this big fat hulk. Now, just tell him I’m under the weather and I’ll see him next week, or when he would care to come, once I’ve got over this bout. Anyway, lass, it’s you he wants to do the talkin’ to. And look, I want to see you come back with a ring on your finger…on your other hand. Why’—she pointed—‘why have you put that one on again?’
Millie looked at the ring on her middle finger, saying, ‘I don’t really know, but it’s very pretty. I only wish it hadn’t come from where it has, but—’ She pulled at it now, trying to get it over her knuckle, saying, ‘It’s odd how it will go on but I can’t get it off again without using soap.’
The door opened, and Ben, standing there, said, ‘Your escort’s arrived. I haven’t opened the gate; you can do that for him.’
Millie turned to Aggie and bent over her with the intention of kissing her cheek, but Aggie pushed her away, saying, ‘You don’t want to carry this cold, do you?’ Then she added, ‘Well, mind, be back at five or before that, because Ben there, as he’s told you, wants to be gone by half past five. Although I don’t know why he’s stated a time; it must be something special.’ She now heaved at her breath, then called to Ben, ‘Is it? Is it something special?’
‘Yes, you could say it is, at least, it’s special to me.’
As Millie attempted to pass him at the door, he didn’t move out of the way—she had to press herself against the stanchion—but even so their bodies touched and their glances held, and when she was past him, she turned and said quietly, ‘I hope your new friends have manners and you learn from them.’
He made no rejoinder, and she marched through the outer room and into the cool air, then hurried across the yard towards the gates. And as she unlocked them she was apologising through the bars: ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He should have let you in.’
‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, not wrong, but Mrs Aggie has a dreadful cold,’ and she added tactfully, ‘as she says, colds are infectious and she wouldn’t like you
to…well, have gone away harbouring a cold like hers.’
‘I’ve never suffered from a cold in my life. Anyway, how are you?’
‘I am very well, thank you.’ Then glancing at him, she said, ‘Except that I have been lonely and…and longing for today to come.’
He had taken her arm, and now he pressed it to his side, saying, ‘Not more than I have been, my dear. It has been a long, long, tedious week.’
When three scantily dressed boys ran in front of them and began jumping backwards, calling, ‘Got a copper, sir? Got a copper, sir?’ he took his crop and waved it, saying, ‘Get yourself away. Off with you! Off with you!’ And they scattered. But one of them stopped and shouted to the others, ‘’Tis Millie.’ And a voice answered him, ‘’T’isn’t.’
‘’Tis, I tell you…Millie! Millie!’
She did not turn round or wave her hand as she would normally do, but allowed Bernard to hurry her on; and as they emerged from the lane, he said stiffly, ‘Oh, how glad I am I’m going to take you out of this, my dear.’
At the ostler’s stable, he apologised as he again lifted her up to the seat of the trap: ‘This is no vehicle for this time of year,’ he said; ‘I must see about a carriage. It’s all right for me trotting backwards and forwards into the town, but you need protection.’
She laughed. ‘My looks belie me,’ she said; ‘I’m very hardy; in fact, I’m tough.’
The ‘Gee up there!’ came out on a deep laugh. ‘Hardy and tough. Oh yes, madam, you give off the impression of both qualities.’ He slanted his glance at her. ‘Pull that rug well around you. It’s surprisingly cold today.’
Arrive home. Arrive home. Each turn of the wheel sang the words: Arrive home. Arrive home.
The Rag Nymph (aka The Forester Girl) Page 24
