Calico Road (10 page)

‘My name’s Madson, Hugh Madson, merchant of Halifax.’

‘Toby Fletcher.’ He settled his unexpected customer in front of the fire with a pot of mulled ale, which seemed to cheer him up a little, then went up to see how he could help Phoebe, who was looking harassed.

‘If they’re to stay, I’ll need some extra help, Toby love. Alice Bent will come in, I expect. Winter isn’t a busy time of year on a farm.’

‘All right. Go and get her.’

‘Can you do it for me? I don’t like to leave this poor woman on her own. She’s not at all well and her maid isn’t with her.’

‘All right. The farm with the white gate, isn’t it?’ He checked that the Madsons’ coachman had everything he needed in the stables and strode off through the snow, smiling to himself at this sudden turn of fate. Bad weather could obviously be good for trade in an isolated place like this.

Toby knocked at the farm door and Jim opened it wearing his usual surly expression. After Toby had explained that they had a couple of days’ work for young Alice, however, her father’s face brightened and for the first time he gave Toby a genuine smile. ‘She’ll be there in a few minutes.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘Thanks.’

Toby strode back, rather enjoying this emergency in spite of the cold and the snow.

It was two days before any of his unexpected guests could leave. Madson was in a foul temper much of that time, but Bram helped out in the inn and was cheerfully resigned to staying put.

When they heard he was there, several of the women from the village came to buy bits and pieces, which further cheered up the pedlar. ‘I’ll stop whenever I’m passing now,’ he said as he got ready to leave. ‘You can tell folk to watch out for me, Toby lad.’

Mr Madson said little as he paid his bill, but his wife was very grateful for Phoebe’s care of her and slipped her a half-crown in gratitude.

‘We’ll get a couple of bedrooms sorted out properly,’ Toby told Phoebe. ‘I don’t want to be taken by surprise again. Alice lass, how about you coming for another day to help with the extra cleaning?’

She beamed at him. ‘Dad will be ever so pleased.’

He hadn’t realised until now how carefully the local folk had to scrimp to make ends meet, because the men always seemed to find the pence for a pot of beer, even if some of them had to make it last longer than the pots of their more fortunate neighbours.

The day after their meeting on the moors Jethro had himself driven five miles down the road in the last of the daylight to visit his new friend Perry. He didn’t notice the cold as he sat in the carriage with hot bricks at his feet and wearing a heavy overcoat with caped shoulders. Beneath it he was wearing a black cloth coat with a velvet collar and dark grey trousers strapped under his shoes, the colours sombre because he preferred dark colours rather than in deference to his recent bereavement. He couldn’t see that it made any difference to the dead what you wore. His shirt collars were modest because he couldn’t abide high ones that stuck into your neck and chin. Anyway, he wasn’t a fashionable fribble but a millowner and man of business. If Goddby’s family weren’t prepared to take him as he was, then to hell with them. A smile curved his lips briefly. They needed him more than he needed them.

He was greeted at the door by Perry, who was, Jethro noted cynically, very effusive in his welcome. After his overcoat had been taken away by an elderly manservant he was ushered into the drawing room to be introduced to Goddby’s womenfolk. The room was overheated for his taste and so full of ornaments and knick-knacks that Jethro moved across it very carefully. Before he could bow over his hostess’s hand he had the opportunity for a better look at the two sisters. Seen up close in the full light of the lavish display of candles they were elegant creatures, clad in frills and silks, sitting modestly on the sofa. But the plumper woman was still the one who caught his eye. There was more character in her face and, he was sure, more fire within that chaste bosom. And a very nice bosom it was too.

He turned his attention back to the old dame, who greeted him with as much enthusiasm as her son had, bobbing her head so much it set the lace and dangling ribbons on her enormous cap fluttering. She had sleeves so wide it made him blink in surprise for a minute and her blue silk gown gave no hint of the family’s lack of money. Good silk, it was, he could tell that at a glance.

‘Mr Greenhalgh, I’m
so
pleased to meet you at last. We’ve heard a great deal about you from dear Perry.’

Jethro took her hand and bowed slightly over it, knowing full well Perry knew little about him other than his name and that he was a rich millowner. The old lady’s looks had faded but she had clearly been a beauty once. It must be from her that her daughters got their looks because Perry was a plump fellow whose hair was already going thin on top and whose teeth stuck out and gave him a strong resemblance to a hare. Old Goddby had looked much the same, from what Jethro remembered, though he’d never spoken to the father, only passed him in the street.

‘Do let me introduce my daughters, Harriet and Sophia.’

As the two young women stood up and dropped slight curtsies, Jethro made no bones about studying them again. His glance lingered on Sophia so long that a brief frown replaced the calm expression on her face and Harriet glanced quickly from one to the other of them, as if annoyed.

Well, he didn’t care what the older one thought. The younger sister was definitely the one for him. Oh, the other was bonny enough but lacked spirit, or so it seemed to him. He wanted to be the man who fanned that spark in Sophia’s eyes into a flame, who took that lush body into his bed and taught it to know a man’s needs.

And he was going to, whatever it cost him to buy her.

He couldn’t have said afterwards how the evening went, because all he remembered was Sophia, sitting opposite him as they ate, shooting him uncomfortable glances as he continued to focus all his attention on her. She said little, ate only lightly and retired to bed early, together with her sister who was making no attempt to hide her annoyance at his lack of interest in her.

He feigned tiredness when they’d gone and let Perry show him to his bedroom where a fire was burning brightly and all was arranged for his comfort. He stood looking down into the flames for a while, thinking about
her
, then got ready for bed, sleeping soundly as always.

The following morning Sophia wasn’t present at breakfast. Jethro didn’t comment on that, spoke to the older sister when he had to and took his leave of his hostess soon afterwards.

When Perry saw him to the door, Jethro invited his host to come and dine with him the following week. ‘I have something to discuss with you. I think you’ll find it worth your while.’

As Sophia went up to her bedroom after the interminable evening ended she let the anger out. Dreadful man! Who did he think he was to stare at her like that? When her father was alive, they’d never have invited someone like him to dine, never!

Harriet came through the connecting door and they unpinned each other’s hair. ‘What did you think of him, then?’

‘I disliked him.’

‘He didn’t seem too bad to me. He’s quite good-looking, really.’

‘Well, you can have him then.’

‘I would, but it’s you he’s interested in.’

There was a pregnant silence then Sophia shook her head. ‘Well, he can’t have me. You know I love Oswin.’

‘But old Mr Easdale has already said his son can’t marry a woman without a dowry.’

‘Oswin loves me, though, he told me so. It’s his father who won’t allow the marriage and who holds the purse strings – what he doesn’t gamble away.’ Sophia’s voice was bitter. ‘Why have we all been cursed with fathers who’ve done nothing but lose the family money?’

‘Mr Greenhalgh has plenty of money, Perry says.’

‘I don’t care. I’m
not
interested in him.’

On the second Sunday after her marriage Meg opened the front door and found her mother standing there.

‘Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?’ Netta demanded.

Meg wanted to say no but didn’t dare, afraid her mother would make a scene in front of the new neighbours. Oh, she didn’t even want her in their room! If only Ben had been here, he’d have protected her.

Netta stopped in the doorway and fired her first shot. ‘Is this all the furniture you’ve got? He’s not a very good provider, is he? My Jem took me to a proper house when he wed me.’

‘This is just for the time being. Would you like to sit down?’ When her mother was seated, she asked nervously, ‘Can I get you a cup of tea?’

‘Yes. And a piece of cake if you have one.’

‘We haven’t. It’s just the tea.’

‘Poor fare for guests.’

Meg bit her tongue. They’d never had cake at home, so she knew her mother was deliberately goading her. She went to put another piece of coal on the small fire and swing the kettle over it, feeling reluctant to turn round again. But her mother had to be faced so she busied herself setting out their two cups and the chipped teapot she’d bought from the pawn shop.

‘And how are you enjoying married life?’

‘Very much. Ben’s a good husband.’

Netta pulled a face as if she didn’t believe this. ‘We’d expected you to come round to see us.’

‘We’ve been busy and I’m at work all week.’ Meg had no intention of going back to the house that carried only unhappy memories for her since her father’s death. She wished now that she’d told her mother to go away, was sure Netta was only there to poke her nose into their business then gossip about it in such a way as to blacken their names.

When she served the tea her mother sipped disdainfully. ‘Cheapest sort. Can’t you afford better than this?’

‘No, we can’t.’

Ben came back just then from seeing to the horses, stopping dead in the doorway when he saw who was there.

‘My mother came to see us,’ Meg said, hoping she didn’t look as unhappy as she felt.

He stared from one woman to the other then back at his wife, his expression turning grim as if he could tell how she was feeling.

‘There’s some tea in the pot,’ Meg said as the silence continued. ‘You can use my cup.’

‘Poor sort of home where there’s not even a spare cup,’ Netta said at once, smirking. ‘But then, our Meg never was much good in the house. She’ll not know how to make the best of the money you provide. You’d better keep an eye on her.’

Meg watched Ben’s mouth drop open in shock. She was used to her mother’s nasty comments, if you could ever be said to get used to unkindness, but she had never seen him look as angry.

‘You’ll regret the day you married her,’ Netta went on. ‘Let alone she’s too young, she’s lazy.’

He stood up and walked across to take the cup from his mother-in-law’s hand, setting it down so carelessly on the table that it overturned and the remaining tea spilled out. ‘If that’s the way you talk to my wife –
your daughter!
– in her own home, then you’re not welcome here, Mrs Staley.’ While she was still gaping at him, he pulled her to her feet, put a hand on the small of her back and propelled her towards the door.

As he pushed her out into the street, Netta shrieked with fury and began to weep loudly, which brought the neighbours running. Sobbing as if her heart was broken, she pointed her finger at him and cried, ‘See how he’s treating me! Throwing me out of my daughter’s house. What sort of a son-in-law is that?’ She turned a malevolent gaze on Meg and continued, still at the top of her voice, ‘And
she
lets him. Yes, she does! It’s a sad day when a mother’s treated like that.’

Ben’s friend, who had rented them the room, came to stand behind him at the front door and mutter, ‘By hell, you’ve getten yoursen an old tartar of a mother-in-law there. I don’t envy you, lad.’

Ben raised his voice. ‘She’ll not be coming here again if she knows what’s good for her.’

A woman moved forward from the crowd, giving Ben and Meg a dirty look as she put an arm round Netta’s shaking shoulders and led her away. He turned round to find his wife in tears.

‘She did that on purpose. She hates me! Take me away from Northby . . . please take me away.’ And then Meg was weeping against him.

That evening Jack came round. Ben answered the door and gave him a stern look. ‘If you’ve come to upset my Meg, you can just go away again.’

‘I’d never do that. I’ve come to see how she is and find out what really happened.’

Ben gestured him inside and he saw Meg, sitting red-eyed near the fire, huddled defensively into herself.

‘I’m sorry she upset you, love,’ Jack said at once, going across to give her a quick hug.

‘I should have known better than to let her in, but I thought she’d make a scene if I didn’t. Only she made a scene anyway.’ Meg sniffed and wiped away a tear with the back of one hand. ‘I shouldn’t let her get at me like this, should I? I ought to be used to it by now.’

‘You shouldn’t have to get used to it,’ Ben snapped. ‘No one should.’

‘Tell me what happened,’ Jack said.

She explained and he looked from her to Ben in consternation. ‘I’m sorry, more sorry than you can know. Mam seems to hate anyone else being happy, as Meg clearly is with you.’

Ben put his arm round his wife. ‘Well, I’m looking for a job somewhere else. Anything will do. In the meantime, I’m not having my lass upset like this again, so you’d better tell your mother to keep away.’

Jethro went about his business as usual, showing nothing of the seething emotions that filled him. He had learned as quite a young boy to hide his feelings from the world, and especially from his father who always seemed to exploit any weakness.

But whatever he was doing, Jethro kept seeing Sophia’s face: in the morning when he woke, in his dreams, even when he was walking round his mill – something he did every day, though he left most of the supervision of the operatives to Barney Spencer under the new and more lenient rules he’d instituted. Barney said the operatives were producing as much cotton as before, so it just went to show that being too severe with them did no one any good, in Jethro’s opinion.