The Orphans of Ardwick Read online

  ‘Sorry, Miss Josephine. Is tha all right? I didn’t mean to upset thee—’

  ‘You didn’t. I’m fine, really. All that you’ve spoken, particularly about your mother … Pip, hearing you talk of her, of her struggles and success …’ She leaned forward in her seat and the softest, most beautiful smile appeared to caress her lips. ‘She’s bred within me a tiny seed of something I feared never to feel again: hope. Belief, also. That I may be the woman I was again. For I want to be me, oh I do.’ A sudden laugh, sweet and girlish, escaped her. She blushed gently. ‘My good friend, Mr Sutton-Shaw, he … He’s so very understanding towards me, and kind and … I believe he may marry me, you know,’ she whispered.

  Despite Miss Lucy’s remarks and her opinion of him, Pip said: ‘He sounds a very nice gentleman, Miss Josephine.’

  ‘He is. If only I were well again, I’m certain he’d …’ She broke off to sigh. ‘My brother does his best to encourage me to leave this room more, to meet with people, with Mr Sutton-Shaw – he does so want to see a union between his friend and me. However, this affliction draws me into making shameful spectacles of myself. Christmas evening, fleeing from the drawing room and jollifications as I did …’ She closed her eyes and shook her head, her chin drooping to her chest. ‘It frustrates and angers Philip. Caroline also. I’m afraid that Alexander – Mr Sutton-Shaw – will soon lose patience with me altogether, too.’

  ‘Then we must make this – you – right, eh, Miss Josephine? Work to fix it, together. Time’s what it’ll take, how much I can’t say, but we’ll not weaken, will we?’

  ‘To heap half the burden such as this on to the shoulders of one so young … Forgive me, I’m sorry, it’s just there’s no one else at all who understands as you seem to.’ The lady bit her lip, nodded, bit her lip again. Then she straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. ‘Together.’

  The next moment, they turned their heads simultaneously as the door swung open and in breezed Miss Lucy. The girl gasped to see Pip and clapped her hands in delight. ‘Oh, hello! Papa said that Grandy had given his permission for you and the boys to stay! Papa’s a dreadful grump; he was not best pleased,’ she added with a lift of her eyebrow, ‘but I am, Pip. Indeed, very much so! Oh, but I did so want to visit the kitchen to see you all. Alas, Finch refuses to take her beady eyes off me for a moment. Humph! I shall get my own back on her, you see if I don’t! Anyway, how are you?’

  Pip couldn’t contain her pleasure. She grinned shyly. ‘Very well, ta, Miss Lucy. By, but it’s gradely to see thee.’

  ‘Why are you up here? Oh!’ she continued without taking a breath before Pip could explain, ‘I’ll fetch my dolls, as I promised, for you to play with. Pip is my friend – we met in the kitchen on Christmas Eve,’ she added to her aunt, before swinging her grin back to Pip. ‘What do you say? Though you must be very careful not to break their delicate china faces, for Mama would be terribly upset with me. Should I, Pip? Shall I get them? Would you like that?’

  ‘And pray what about our appointed embroidery lesson?’ Miss Josephine’s question held a note of amusement. ‘Finch, and indeed your mama, have entrusted you to me in good faith. What if either of them should happen into here and—?’

  ‘They shan’t, Aunt Jo. Finch was already dozing by the nursery fire when I left, and Mama shan’t summon me to visit her and Papa in the drawing room for hours yet.’

  Summon …? Visit? The young miss needed permission to see her own parents? Pip thought, hiding a sad frown. There was an allotted hour during the day when she could spend time with them, when they could spare the measly minutes? By, but these nobs were a queer bunch, all right. No warmth, most of them. Unfeeling, aye. She felt sorry for this girl here, she did. Brass aplenty or no, she’d rather not have had Lucy’s life. She and her mam had spent every spare second they could together. Pip wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, nay, wouldn’t have traded places with this poor lass for a gold watch.

  Now, Miss Lucy adopted her most persuasive pout. ‘Pip’s my new friend. And I promise to concentrate extra hard at tomorrow’s lesson. Please, Aunt Jo?’

  ‘All right, child, you win.’ Smiling, the woman flapped a hand to the door.

  However much Pip’s excitement at the thought of spending some time playing make-believe with Lucy, she remembered the main reason she was here. Unlike the young miss, she was an employee beneath this roof, not a resident or guest. She wouldn’t want her mistress thinking she was taking advantage, so she had to ask: ‘Miss Josephine, are you sure?’

  ‘I am, Pip. Besides, how can I say no to that pretty face?’

  Pip understood this; she couldn’t imagine ever being able to deny lovely Lucy anything.

  Her niece skittered, laughing, from the room – and slowly, Josephine’s smile melted. She twiddled her fingers together in her lap in an anxious motion.

  Pip moved to her side. ‘Cook said as how the embroidery is good for you; mebbe the lesson should go ahead.’

  ‘Cook speaks truth. The lessons occupy my mind, thus calming my frayed nerves. However, you are children. And children should, I believe, find fun where they can. I shall busy myself with my needlework regardless. I know you’re here should I need you.’

  The lady’s last words had been tinged with embarrassment; also guilt – it was more an apology than an observation. Pip smiled softly in understanding. That this full-grown adult was forced to depend on a mere girl to feel safe, reassured, must be a difficult truth to swallow. Then another thought struck. Now, it was she who wore the uneasy expression. ‘Miss Josephine?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mrs Goldthorpe, Miss Lucy’s mam … I don’t believe she likes us much, me and the lads downstairs. Happen she’d be angry were she to discover me in her daughter’s company?’

  The woman shook her head in reassurance. ‘Oh, I’m sure—’ She broke off at the sound of approaching footsteps and smiled. ‘Too late to speculate on such matters, now. Here’s Lucy back.’

  Yet it wasn’t the young miss who appeared in the doorway but the very woman herself. Caroline paused at the threshold. To say she looked surprised was putting it mildly. ‘What on earth is she doing up here?’ Josephine’s brief explanation brought an angry hue to her cheeks. She cast Pip a waspish look before turning a withering stare on to her sister-in-law. ‘For goodness sake, Josephine. Scraping to this … girl – of the lower class at that – for guidance? Have you no shame at all?’

  Josephine blushed to the roots of her hair. Her embarrassment was tangible. She opened her mouth but Caroline continued scathingly before she could speak:

  ‘Besides which, I’m astonished at your naivety. She’s playing you, is likely laughing up her sleeve that she’s managed to worm her way up here. Doctor Lawley has explained quite clearly on numerous occasions what ails you. It’s your blood, which you know only too well he’s striving to cleanse. I think you ought to be grateful, not cast aspersions on his medical capabilities.’

  ‘I have much respect for Doctor Lawley. But Caroline, his efforts thus far have been in vain. The bloodletting, cold baths, castor oil and goodness knows what else.’ Her sister-in-law glanced away, and Josephine nodded empathetically. ‘See, you agree. I’m right, am I not? His intentions are good but his methods are proving useless—’

  ‘You must give it time, that’s all. Doctor Lawley knows what he’s doing.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t. I shan’t be requiring his assistance any longer.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘My blood is just as it should be. Pip says—’

  ‘Pip? Pip? This one?’ Caroline thrust out an arm to point a finger at Pip, who shrank back at the sudden movement, believing she was about to strike her. ‘She’s preying on your desperation to be well.’

  ‘Caroline, please. You’re scaring the young mite—’

  ‘And you’re enabling yourself to be hoodwinked. She’s using you for her own ends.’

  ‘She’s going to help me restore my health.’ Josephine spoke q
uietly, calmly, though her tone carried sadness. ‘I have made my decision and would be grateful if you will respect it.’

  Caroline looked as if she’d say more. Instead, she breathed deeply. A definite smirk appeared to play at her thin mouth. ‘My, my,’ she murmured. ‘She’s got you right where she wants you, hasn’t she? No doubt you have Cook’s backing on this? Your father’s?’ She gave a mirthless snort when Josephine’s eyes affirmed it. ‘You’ll regret your foolhardiness, you mark my words. This waif is a trickster and a fraud. Your ailment will worsen, oh it will, and you shall have no one to blame but yourself.’ She straightened and looked down her nose. ‘Heed my advice or ignore it. The choice is yours to make. I have said all I wish to on the matter. Your brother, however, shall have plenty to add, you can be certain of that. As a matter of fact, speaking of Philip …’ Her eyes held a sly glint. ‘The reason for my being here is that he sent me to inform you that Mr Sutton-Shaw requests the pleasure of your company this evening. However, I’ll be sure to tell him that you’ll be otherwise engaged with your … friend, here.’

  ‘No, no. Please. I should like to see Alexander very much.’

  Caroline was silent, then: ‘Hm. I dare say Alexander shares your sentiments. Whether he’ll be of the same mind when he discovers you’ve cast aside the doctor and risk putting your mental well-being in jeopardy remains to be seen. I grant you, he’s a fair and decent man. He’s weathered your illness with neither action nor word of complaint. But remember, one’s patience can only be tested so far, Josephine.’

  The pale face creased. With a shaky hand, Josephine dabbed her nose with her handkerchief, and Pip sidled to her chair hoping her presence would offer comfort and wishing she had an ounce of Simon or Cook’s gumption to tell this nasty woman to leave her mistress be. But she was afraid, both of Caroline and of making matters worse; she could only stare at her feet and pray she’d leave. A moment later, her heart sank to her boots.

  ‘Mama!’

  As Caroline glanced from her daughter, who had appeared at her side clutching her dolls, then to Pip, Josephine half rose from her seat. ‘Forgive me, I gave consent … Lucy said they had already made one another’s acquaintance. They’re just children, sister-in-law.’ Her voice was soft. ‘What harm can it do?’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘You’re in agreement?’ Josephine’s eyes expressed the surprise that had filled Pip.

  ‘Thank you, Mama!’ squealed Lucy. ‘Oh, Pip,’ she added, hopping from one foot to the other, ‘we’re going to have such fun!’

  However, confusion had struck Pip into silence. Caroline was giving consent to this, after everything she’d just spewed out, the clear hatred of her that she harboured? Deep suspicion was turning her cold and when Caroline turned slowly to look at her, a trickle of dread touched her spine. The lady wore the queerest expression. One of almost … was that excitement? But why? What …?

  ‘Half an hour, Lucy. Then you must return to the nursery and Finch, who will take you for your walk in the Green. Remember, fresh air is good for your constitution. Agreed?’

  ‘Yes, Mama.’

  With neither another look nor a word to anyone, Caroline nodded once, turned and left the room.

  ‘Well.’ Plucking at her lip, Josephine stared at the closed door. Then she caught Pip watching her and brought a small smile to her face. ‘Take a seat on the chaise longue with Lucy. Go ahead, Pip. Enjoy yourself awhile.’

  ‘You’re all right, Miss Josephine?’

  ‘Yes, yes. A little breathless, perhaps … My embroidery will calm my nerves.’ She reached for the sewing basket atop the table to her right. However, her slight frown remained and again she uttered, this time to herself, ‘Well.’

  Aye, well indeed. Pip too shot a last look at the door. Then Lucy was beckoning her across and despite her unease, she couldn’t help but feel happy. Pushing her concerns and the memory of Caroline’s sly eyes from her thoughts, she allowed herself to be a youngster for once.

  Oh, but Lucy’s company, her laughter and sunny smiles were a tonic; Pip failed to recall the last time she’d known such pleasure. Throughout, she’d half expected the door to burst open and Mr Philip to storm in upon them, demanding an explanation from his sister regarding her recent decision concerning her health, but it never came. Eventually, she’d allowed herself to relax. Yet all too soon, Josephine was calling time on their games apologetically, and the reluctant children parted company.

  Minutes later, when passing the window, Pip caught a glimpse of the young miss strolling by the lakelet beyond the park gate, Finch looking on from a bench. She sighed softly. She wished she could run down there and continue the fun with the girl. Of course, that wasn’t possible for numerous reasons. However much she and Lucy got along, how she liked to pretend they were not so dissimilar when they were together, the truth was a very different matter. They were oceans apart, none more so in their social positions. Lucy was a somebody. Pip was, in the grand scheme of things, a no one. They themselves, and children to boot, worried not about such a triviality. Adults could learn a lot from them if only they cared to, she thought.

  A little later, her despondency was quelled when, returning her embroidery to its basket, Josephine announced that she must change for lunch and that Pip might take herself to the kitchen as she would have her meal in the dining room today with the family. Cook had revealed yesterday that more often than not, Josephine ate here in her room where she felt most comfortable for fear of bringing on one of her episodes, and so Pip was delighted with this announcement. Not only did it mean she could spend time with the kitchen’s occupants but it seemed a good sign that Josephine was pushing herself towards if not overcoming, at least managing, her ailment.

  Did the need to impress a certain gentleman have anything to do with this? She was sure it must. Mind, whatever it was that drove her to want to be well mattered not so long as it worked, did it? Josephine was testing the waters with lunch; if she got through it well enough, she’d feel able to receive Mr Sutton-Shaw this evening, that was likely her thinking. Oh, but Pip hoped she would. This gentleman seemed good for her.

  She paused at the door and turned to face the lady. That ever sad and slightly worried look was on her face, and Pip felt an odd sense of pride in her. ‘It’s good, Miss Josephine, that you’re for taking your meal downstairs the day. If you don’t mind me saying so … I’m reet proud of thee.’

  ‘Oh, Pip.’ Blinking rapidly, the woman seemed to light up from the inside. ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever …’ She smiled through tears that had sprung to her eyes. ‘I feel … it’s difficult to explain … somewhat stronger now I’ve found you. Does that sound silly?’

  ‘Nay, not a bit. It’s just …’

  ‘Just what?’

  ‘It’s a shame you’ve been unable to see that you had this strength in you, long afore I came, allus have had it. I see it in you, Miss Josephine. You’ll pull yourself from this dark time, and you’ll wed that Sutton-Shaw one of yourn, and you’ll live a happy life. I just know it.’

  Happen you’d have come through this sooner, too, if you’d had a body to tell you this before now, Pip added in her mind, thinking of what she’d seen and heard, of the way in which Miss Josephine’s brother and his wife were wont to treat her. Support and a kind word here and there went a long way.

  She surely missed her mother so, but Albert was here still and Pip would bet his daughter had his affection, him being the good man he was. And she had Cook. Still, they didn’t really understand her troubles, did they? She appeared so very lonely; it hurt Pip to see. Mind, she’s got me, now, too, her inner voice added, and she was surprised to realise she felt protective of this lady almost as much as she had her mam.

  ‘Oh, Pip,’ repeated Josephine in a broken whisper. She smiled and Pip returned it then slipped from the room.

  ‘Lads are away outside taking stock of the garden,’ Cook hastened to mention the moment Pip entered the kitchen, eyes widening in wor
ry to see them absent. She swallowed her relief. The fear of abandonment was with her always. ‘They’ll not get far with it, mind,’ the cook continued, ‘for the ground’s frozen solid. Anyroad, it’ll do them good to get from this room awhile. They’re growing restless, I reckon, and that’s never a good thing for young boys. Better they find summat to occupy them.’

  Pip understood this. When you were used to being on the go constantly as they were, trawling the streets seeking a safe place to lay your head the night or finding a scrap to eat, it was strange not having to worry about a thing now. It must be especially so for Simon, who had been the one to look after them. He’d never seemed to stop when they were destitute, was always trying to come up with ways to see they survived another day, hour. He’d worked hard to protect them, his quick mind always busy, thinking up the next scheme. She just hoped he’d soon adapt to this easier life of theirs without too much bother.

  ‘Tabby? Hardman?’

  ‘Hard-faced one’s busy with her duties in the house somewhere. Tabby— oh, here she is.’

  Pip smiled at the girl emerging from the scullery, who flashed one back then took a seat between them at the table.

  ‘How’s it going, lovey?’ Cook placed a cup of tea in front of Pip and poured another for Tabby. ‘You settling down to it, like?’

  ‘Good, aye. Miss Josephine’s decided to eat her lunch in the dining room.’ She nodded, pleasure running through her, when Cook raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Well! A genuine miracle-performer you’ve proven yourself to be. She well then now, like?’

  Pip blinked in astonishment. Earlier she’d ruminated on how, despite some folks’ good minds and intentions, they really didn’t have the foggiest idea what this ailment was like, did they? She shook her head slowly. ‘Nay, Cook. This … it can’t be mended in a day. It mightn’t ever be, and that’s the truth. I can but try, is all. Mind, she looks to be determined and that’s half the battle won already, for you must want to help yourself to get better, you know?’