After he had left her, Ellie went to the window and stared out into the cold February darkness. She was a married woman now, but somehow she felt lonelier in her marriage than she ever had done before. Ellie shivered. She felt somehow that she had nothing – no hope, no joy, no anything!
Gideon pulled his coat a little more warmly around himself as he turned into the dockside street and felt the ice-cold blast of air funnelling down it.
The street, like its fellows, comprised a row of terraced houses, many looking dilapidated and uncared for.
He had visited this particular street three times already in the last month, his stomach clenched with a mixture of anger and determination as he thought about the risk he was thinking of taking.
He hadn’t discussed his intentions with anyone – there was no one for him to discuss them with. Mary was the only person who might have understood, and certainly the only person he knew who would have been able to advise him, seeing as she owned a great deal of property herself.
Not property like this, of course – dirty, uncared for, with broken windows – but he had heard that such properties brought in a fair rent, especially if they were let off as single rooms.
If he used all his savings Gideon reckoned he would have just enough to buy himself two, or, if he was very lucky, perhaps three, of the cheapest sort of terraced houses. With all the rooms in each one let, and with no one defaulting on that rent, within twelve months he would be able to…But the likelihood was that he would not be able to let every room, and his tenants would default if they thought he might be weak enough to allow them to do so.
Mary had an agent who dealt with the humdrum business of her properties for her, but Gideon would have to take on that role himself.
Bleakly, Gideon turned his back to the whipping arctic wind. It might almost be the end of March but as yet there was no sign that spring had arrived. In the town’s parks the daffodils might be in bloom, but here down by the docks everything was grey: grey sky, grey houses, and grey water.
Gideon looked again at the small house in front of him. He knew that what he was planning was the biggest risk of his life, but what alternative did he have, he asked himself bitterly. He was a cripple with no way of earning his own living, save off other people’s backs.
Ellie tried not to feel nervous as she stood outside her father-in-law’s library door and heard him call out sharply, ‘Come.’
As she walked in she reminded herself that she
was Mr Charnock’s daughter-in-law and not his servant, and, moreover, that the book she was carrying in her hand and in which she had meticulously listed all her household expenses was as frugal and careful as it was possible to be.
It had come as a shock to Ellie to discover that her father-in-law expected her to render a weekly and detailed list to him of everything she had spent.
‘Well, miss,’ Mr Charnock greeted her unpleasantly, ‘and what falderals have you wasted my money on this week, if you please?’
As he had done right from the first of these unpleasant interviews, Ellie’s father-in-law kept her standing whilst he went through her accounts.
Far from welcoming her marriage to Henry, as Henry had informed her his father did, Mr Charnock, Ellie felt, had taken a great dislike to her the moment she had mentioned to him the possibility of having her family to live with them.
Ellie’s expression grew sad and forlorn as she thought about her sister. There had been no more talk of Connie coming to Hoylake, and for that Ellie was grateful, but she couldn’t help feeling that she’d let her down again.
Ellie waited as Mr Charnock went over and over her figures, holding her breath as he did so, and then tensing as he cried out, ‘What is the meaning of this, if you please? You have writ here that you have ordered more coals, but it is still not a month since they were last ordered!’
Ellie tried to remain calm. ‘You may remember, Father-in-law, that Henry was not very well two weeks ago, and I lit the fire in the bedroom because I was afraid he might take a chill on the chest.’ She could see from Mr Charnock’s expression that her explanation had not placated him.
‘Not very well? Nonsense! If you didn’t namby-pamby him so much he would be a great deal better!’ As he was speaking to her Mr Charnock was counting out a small bag of guineas.
‘Here,’ he told Ellie ungraciously, pushing the bag across the desk. ‘I have deducted two guineas this week: one since I consider that your expenditure is excessive, and the other to repay me for the extra coal which has had to be ordered.’
Ellie was nearly in tears when she left the room. The money Mr Charnock gave her was barely enough to cover what she had to buy anyway – and she had already secretly been buying a few extra little delicacies for Henry, whom she had discovered had a delicate stomach, out of the swiftly dwindling money she had been given by her Aunt Parkes on her marriage.
‘Ellie, what is it? What’s wrong?’
Henry, whom Mr Charnock had told to stay late at the office, had just opened the door, his expression concerned as he saw Ellie’s tears.
‘I have just come from presenting my accounts to your father, Henry, and he has deducted two guineas from the money he allocates me. There will not be enough for me to pay for everything!’
Ellie only just managed to hold back her distress.
‘I hate to see you looking so unhappy,’ Henry told her sadly. ‘I shall speak to my father on your behalf, Ellie, and ask him if he will not relent and give you a small personal allowance. But I cannot promise that my request will meet with success,’ he warned her, looking unhappy and worried.
Although Ellie was appreciative of his support, privately she knew that it was very unlikely that his father would pay any attention to him.
‘Father, if I might have a word with you…?’
As he was subjected to his father’s hard-edged, almost contemptuous stare, Henry wished desperately that he might be stronger, braver, hardier – much more the kind of man his father would so obviously have preferred him to be – a man such as his cousin George.
Unusually, he could smell spirit on his father’s breath, and his heart sank as he recognised the look of ill temper in his eyes, suspecting that he had chosen his moment badly and that his father was not in the best of moods. Had he been approaching him solely on his own behalf, Henry knew that his courage would have deserted him, but he was not here for himself. Every time he pictured Ellie as he had seen her this evening, looking so unhappy, his conscience racked him. He was her husband, her protector, and it was both immoral
and ignoble that he should allow her to be treated as a skivvy.
‘Father, I am concerned that no provision has been made for giving Ellie an allowance.’
‘What? The chit has dared to demand that I pay for her fripperies, when that wretched uncle of hers has not yet handed over to me the dowry he promised?’
The apoplectic manner in which his words had been received confirmed all Henry’s worst fears. His father was building himself up into one of his fearsome rages, his face already burning with dark angry colour, his small eyes glittering with hostility.
‘If she wants to waste money on falderals then let her waste her uncle’s. Tell her to make her demands of him, and –’
‘Father, you are not being fair.’
‘Oh, I am not, am I? Your wife obviously thinks she has got herself married very well, and into money. I haven’t forgotten that she was naught but a butcher’s daughter, even if she chooses to do so. Elizabeth has already warned me that she suspects your wife is taking on airs above her station, and is of a dangerously frivolous and wasteful nature. And as to any matter of an allowance –’ spite gleamed in the small, mean eyes ‘– as her husband, that surely is your responsibility.’
Henry went white. ‘I wish that it could be, Father, but, as you well know, since you have refused ever to pay me a decent living wage –’
‘ “A decent living wage”,’ Jarvis Charnock roared. ‘You idle good-for-nothing. I provide you with a roof over your head, clothes to wear, food to eat, and a job for which you are plainly not equipped, and yet you still have the temerity to ask me for more. Are you blind? Can you not see what difficult times the business is in?’
It was infuriating to Jarvis that whilst he had done everything Josiah Parkes had told him to do to put in hand the final stages of their business arrangement, Josiah had told him to wait another week before giving the captain of the
Antareas
, who was waiting in China, the instruction to put their plan into action. Jarvis wasn’t sure his bank manager was prepared to wait yet another week, having waited several already, and Jarvis was desperately in need of the money he had expected to gain. And now here was his wretched son, daring to demand that he pay the Parkes girl an allowance to do what she was supposed to do and that was run the house! Well, the pair of them would soon learn that he was not going to be manipulated. No, sir!
Poor Henry, unaware of what was going on inside his father’s head, and desperately conscious of his duty to Ellie, protested fatally, ‘You say that, Father, and yet only this morning my cousin George told me that you had promised to increase his salary.’
‘You dare to question me?’
For a moment Henry thought that his father
might actually strike him, such was the intensity of his rage. His face had turned from red to a deeply mottled purple, and a few flecks of spittle foamed from his mouth as he jabbed one finger menacingly at Henry and told him viciously, ‘God knows how I ever came to father such a one as you, Henry – if indeed I ever did, and your cursed mother didn’t foist some byblow off on me!’
Bitterly Henry wondered what his father would say if he were to tell him that in many ways there was nothing he would like more than to discover that he was not his son were it not for the slur such a discovery would inevitably cast on his mother.
Heavy-hearted, he left his father’s office. He had as good as promised Ellie that she should have some more money, and now he was going to have to let her down. Unless there was a way…
Ellie was seated in the small parlour sewing when Henry went to her.
‘I’m afraid that my father is not in the best of moods at present,’ he told her. ‘There have been some problems with the business. However, you must not worry, I have money of my own and…and I shall provide you with some pin money for yourself, Ellie. The fault is mine in not thinking to do so before!’
Laying aside her sewing, Ellie smiled up at him in pleased relief. ‘I am so grateful to you, Henry. I cannot tell you how worried I have been.’
The smile she was giving him made Henry clear his throat and suggest, ‘Perhaps we might have an early night, Ellie. You have been working very hard and I should not want you to spoil your pretty eyes by spending so much time sewing.’
Nearly three months of marriage was long enough for Ellie to know what Henry’s suggestion of an ‘early night’ portended. Inside her head she could almost hear her mother’s voice reminding her that it was her duty to accede to Henry’s intimate marital demands.
Her duty. A small, obstinate thrill of rebellion shot through her. According to Iris, a woman’s first and most profound duty was to herself!
‘And so what am I bid for these two dockside terraces? Three floors, mind, and a fine opportunity to acquire a highly lettable property, which will bring in a tidy income.’
A little hesitantly Gideon waited for the bidding to start before raising his own hand. So much depended on what he was attempting to do. He had decided to use his savings – the money he had originally put aside from his earnings in order to help him finance himself through his architechtural studies – and invest them in some property that would, he hoped, bring him in a good rental income, and to this end he had spent the last month finding out as much as he could about such business, trudging through the town in the raw winter, cold and damp, his muffler pulled up around his face to keep out the icy fog with its taint of factory chimneys; nursing his stiff hand, which, whilst unable to respond to the commands of his brain, somehow managed to react acutely to the
cold so that it ached and burned with pain. He had studied various buildings from the outside, and whenever he could from the inside as well, following his nose and his instincts, which had now led him to this auction and the hope that he might be successful in bidding for the two terraced houses of the very cheapest sort by the docks. They could potentially bring him in a tidy sum in rental, provided he was not too fussy about who his tenants might be. Dockside properties were generally occupied by the rougher type of persons: sailors wanting a room in between jobs; drabs and doxies who ‘serviced’ and ‘entertained’ them. Such lettings were not for those of high moral tone, nor those who could not, when needed, employ sufficient brute force to gain their tenants’ respect and ensure that their rents were paid. But the returns were good and the rooms in constant demand, although Gideon had already noted that the most successful landlords were those who insisted on taking a sum in advance of letting a room.
It seemed he was not the only one who had seen the potential of the three-storey properties, but Gideon had set himself a limit beyond which he was not prepared to bid.
As he nodded to signal his intent to go on bidding, Gideon realised that there were only two of them in this auction now: himself, and a swarthy thickset man on the other side of the room, whom Gideon could see quite clearly because of the distinct ring of space around him, almost as though
someone had drawn an invisible circle into which no one was allowed to intrude.
The auction was being held in the taproom of an out-of-town public house, its floor covered in a greasy film of sawdust and the air thick with a blue haze of coal and cigarette smoke.
Gideon had already reached his personal limit, but something about the look the other man gave him and the lazy, self-confident way he raised his bid challenged him to continue. Three more times they bid against one another, and Gideon could feel himself sweating. He was way above his limit now, and would have to let every single one of the rooms in the properties to recoup his outlay.
As he signalled his final bid, he found that he was half hoping the other man would outbid him, but instead he shook his head.
Gideon could feel the ripple of shock that ran through the room. It seemed that all eyes were on him as the auctioneer raised his gavel and pronounced, ‘Going at one hundred and fifty guineas the pair…going…going…gone!’
Caught between euphoria and terror, Gideon saw that his hands were shaking.
‘Well, sonny, you made a right fool of yourself there, didn’t you, landing yourself with a real pig in a poke – and at a fair bit more than you can afford, I’ll wager.’
A large hand clapped him on his shoulder and Gideon discovered that he was being confronted by his rival bidder. He could hear the malice beneath the other’s apparent bonhomie – aye, and see it too in his cold, pale eyes.
‘You must have thought it worth the money since you kept on bidding,’ he pointed out.
The other man laughed. ‘You are a novice, aren’t you, son? I didn’t keep bidding because I wanted the houses, I kept on ’cos I wanted to see how much of a fool you could make of yourself.’ Giving Gideon a fake indulgent smile, he added, ‘Course, I’d be willing to take them off your hands – at the right price.’
Quick as a flash Gideon retorted, ‘I won’t be selling. Those properties are a good investment.’
‘Aye, in the right hands and at the right price! When you’re ready to accept it – and you will be – you can get in touch with me. Connolly’s the name – Bill Connolly. Eighty guineas and not a penny more, that’s my top offer, and I promise you, lad, you’re going to be glad to cut your losses and accept it.’
Giving Gideon another crocodile smile, he stepped back from him and started to walk away. His walk had a distinct swagger to it, Gideon noticed critically, already disliking and distrusting him. He also noticed the way in which people seemed to fall back to let Bill Connolly pass.
Gideon had to wait until the rest of the auction had taken place before presenting himself to the
auctioneer to make arrangements to pay for his purchases.
‘Well, well, the young man who outbid Bill Connolly…That took a fair bit of gumption, lad. Bill had his eye on them houses, that’s for sure. Already owns a deal of property down by the docks, he does, and the word is that he’s aiming to get his hands on as much as he can. That way he can charge what rent he likes without any fear of anyone undercutting him.’
‘He did mention to me that he was willing to buy them off me,’ Gideon responded.
‘Did he so? Well, in that case, you’d better take care you don’t get a visit from Bill’s “persuaders”, the same ones he uses to make sure that none of his tenants forget to pay him…at least not a second time, if you know what I mean!’
For the umpteenth time, Ellie looked anxiously round her spotless drawing room.
She had got up especially early to bake for her ‘At Home’ – a Victoria sponge, and some orange-flavoured biscuits, as well as making some scones and, of course, there was the fruit cake she had made earlier in the month.
The selection of dainty sandwiches was already arranged on the elegant china she had been given as a wedding present, and the silver teapot, which had been presented to Henry’s mother’s father by the East India Company and which she had
discovered at the back of a cupboard, gleamed from the polishing she had given it. As a back-up she had the silver teapot she and Henry had been given. Since there had been no sign of any homemade jam or preserves in the kitchen cupboard she had had no alternative other than to buy some in, something that her own mother would have deplored – although Ellie had noticed that her Aunt Lavinia had no qualms about purchasing rather than making such things. She had, Ellie admitted, worried about the cost of these items, well aware of her father-in-law’s objection to finding anything other than absolute necessities on the household bills, but only last night Henry had unexpectedly handed over to her twenty-five guineas saying that it was to be her pin money and that she may spend it as she wished.
‘Henry, I thought you said that your father had refused to –’
‘This is my money, Ellie,’ Henry had stopped her, ignoring the troubled look she had given him.
‘But you don’t have much money of your own, you shouldn’t…’ Ellie had told him hesitantly, and then wished she had not when his face had burned with sore pride and chagrin.
‘My father does not pay me…generously,’ Henry had agreed stiffly, turning away from her as he spoke, ‘but I-I want you to have this money, Ellie,’ he had added simply, and the humbleness in his voice and his face as he turned back towards her had made her eyes smart with tears.
Ellie checked the drawing room yet again. A fire burned brightly in the burnished grate, throwing out a warming heat. By turning down the gas lamps slightly, and thanks to the dullness of the late March afternoon, the shabbiness of the room’s drapes and cushions was not immediately apparent. Every piece of furniture in the house shone, her tablecloths were pristinely laundered, and Ellie had spent hours patiently instructing Maisie on just how she was to receive Ellie’s visitors.
The doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of the first of her callers. Pink-cheeked, Ellie hurried to the drawing-room door, shooing Maisie towards the front door, gesturing to her to open it.
‘Ellie, darling…’
Fortunately her first visitor was Cecily, beaming lovingly at her as she embraced her. Her baby was due in just two months but, unlike Ellie’s mother, her cousin seemed to be positively enjoying her pregnancy.
‘So! Now you are a married woman,’ Cecily said archly, adding happily, ‘Oh, Ellie, isn’t it fun being the mistress of your own home, and having a husband?’
‘Let me take your coat,’ Ellie offered, as the doorbell rang again and Maisie threw her an anguished look, thankful not to have to reply.
‘Is it your maid’s day off?’ Cecily questioned innocently, as she witnessed Maisie’s inexpert
attempts to fulfil her duties. ‘Oh, I nearly forgot, Iris asks me to give you her apologies. She cannot make it, but she says she will telephone you and arrange to have tea with you. I love that gown, Ellie. It suits you so very well, and that trimming is very pretty. Oh, and I must tell you how much admired that pretty little dress you made for the baby has been! I am the envy of all my friends! Everyone is asking me where I bought it. I dare say if you wanted to you could make yourself a fortune with your needle! Not, of course, that you would ever need to do such a thing!’
The doorbell was ringing again, and Ellie excused herself to her cousin, urging her to go into the drawing room.
‘At last, Parkes. I have had a devil of a time getting hold of you. Does that wretched clerk of yours not pass on your messages?’
‘I’m afraid the blame lies with me, Jarvis,’ Josiah Parkes apologised smoothly, as his visitor immediately made his way over to his office’s warm fire. ‘I have been very remiss, but pressure of business, you understand.’
‘Aye, well, never mind all that. I have a bone to pick with you, Parkes, over the matter of your niece’s dowry! Or rather the lack of it!’
The tiniest hint of confusion creased Josiah’s forehead. ‘I am sorry, Jarvis, but I am afraid I do not follow you. It says quite plainly in the marriage
contract that the dowry is to be paid on the first anniversary of the marriage.’
‘The devil it does,’ Jarvis Charnock spluttered, his eyes bulging hot-temperedly. ‘I have no recollection of any such thing ever being discussed between us, and I warn you, Parkes, I have the very best of memories.’
‘Indeed, I am sure you do. Perhaps we did not discuss it in so many words. I recall that you were occupied with other matters when the document was drawn up.’
The smooth oily note of satisfaction and amusement in Josiah’s voice increased Jarvis Charnock’s fury. Not only had the bastard pulled a fast one on him, he was also laughing at him for being fool enough to let him!
‘Aye, well, you might think you’ve outsmarted me, Parkes, but I can tell you I have my own way of dealing with those who would try to cheat me! Your niece is finding out the hard way that I’m a man who likes to see value for his brass. And since she’s seen fit to cause my cook to hand in her cards, she’s –’
‘Come, come, Jarvis, there is no need, surely, for talk such as this. We are both gentlemen, after all,’ Josiah intervened jovially, secretly only too delighted to discover how effective his underhand strategies had been. ‘So much heat and anger, and for what? I assure you that there was no intent on my part to cheat anyone. No, I thought I had made it clear to you that I could not pay the dowry until
our other business had been satisfactorily settled, and that was why I settled on a day one year on from the marriage.’
‘Aye, and that is another issue,’ Jarvis stormed, refusing to be placated.
‘Indeed it is, and it is one we must address without delay,’ Josiah cut him off. ‘You have your captain standing by, I trust?’
Having the wind taken out of his sails so swiftly and masterfully caused Jarvis to bluster and fume, as he tried to regain control of the argument. ‘It is not me who is delaying things,’ he denied. ‘You –’
‘I do understand your impatience, my dear Jarvis, but these things cannot be hurried. However, the time has now come, and you must send word to your captain to act immediately.’
Ellie breathed a tired but very satisfied breath of relief as she carefully returned to the china cabinet the last of the best china.
Her At Home had gone extremely well, and an amused but slightly grim smile touched her mouth as she remembered how she had come upon Elizabeth and the friend she had brought with her upstairs, where Elizabeth had been running a finger over one of the window frames Ellie had spent the previous week cleaning.
At least the friend had had the grace to look ashamed, even if Elizabeth herself had not, reinforcing Ellie’s estimation of Henry’s cousin’s wife
as a woman of very poor upbringing and manners.
Removing her apron, Ellie made her way upstairs.
Henry had come in and gone out again, and she tutted to herself to see the jacket from his suit carelessly discarded across the dressing screen. Automatically she reached for it, neatening it and then bending down to pick up a small folded piece of paper that had fallen from one of the pockets.
Normally Ellie would never have dreamed of reading something that was so obviously personal, but for some reason the minute she saw the pawnbroker’s name printed across the front of the paper alongside his immediately recognisable symbol, a horrible feeling of dread crept over her. Her fingers trembling, she slowly unfolded the paper.
It was a receipt from the pawnbroker to say that he had advanced Henry twenty-five guineas against a gold pocket-watch.
Twenty-five guineas – the exact amount of money Henry had given her only recently. Ellie sat down unsteadily on the bed, still holding the pawnbroker’s ticket. The gold pocket-watch he had pawned was the one he had once told her proudly was one of his most cherished possessions, and had originally been presented to his maternal grandfather by Her Majesty Queen Victoria. And yet he had obviously pawned it in order to give her money!