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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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‘The bastard! I’ll kill him for this. I thought he loved me. He said he loved me. And you, Kitty Clegg. You bitch! You little
whore
. . . I’ll kill you, too.’

Twenty-Three

‘You’ll have to go.’

‘Oh Mrs Bradshaw, please don’t turn us out. We’ll pay for all the damage and I’ll replace as much as I can.’ Kitty’s pleas were in vain.

The woman shook her head. ‘No. I’m sorry – sorry for you, that is – but you’ll have to go. And I’ll expect payment for everything that’s been broken or
damaged. All my mother’s pretty things . . .’ The poor woman’s eyes filled with tears and Kitty felt dreadful. She was silent, unable, this time, to make excuses for her young
mistress’s unforgivable behaviour.

Since the incident, Miriam had locked herself in her bedroom and had refused to speak to Kitty, emerging only to visit the privy or drink a glass of water.

‘You must eat, miss,’ Kitty called, bending low to speak through the keyhole. ‘You must keep your strength up.’

She jumped back from the door as a thud sounded on the opposite side and, mentally, she added another few shillings to their bill for breakages. Sighing she went into her own bedroom and dragged
a box into the centre of the room. Opening drawers and the wardrobe, she began to pack her few belongings.

Later, she went again to stand outside Miriam’s door. ‘Miss Miriam? Can you hear me? You’ve got to let me in. I’ve got to pack your clothes. We’ve to leave
tomorrow. Mrs Bradshaw—’

The door was flung open and Kitty blinked in the sudden light from the far window.

‘Leave?’ Miriam’s eyes were sparkling and there was a smile on her mouth. It was the first sign of real interest the girl had shown for weeks. ‘We’re leaving? Oh
Kitty . . .’ She flung her arms around the surprised maid and hugged her. ‘I’m sorry for all the horrid things I said. Where are we going? I don’t care where it is as long
as it’s away from here and that horrible witch next door.’

‘I don’t know where we can go. And besides, your mother . . .’

‘Don’t worry about Mother. I’ll write to her.’

‘But how can you?’ Kitty argued worriedly. ‘When we’re supposed to be abroad?’

‘Oh yes, I was forgetting that. But never mind, I’ll think of something.’ Excitement lit her green eyes again. ‘Let’s go to York, Kitty. There’ll be so much
more to
do
there.’

Now Kitty had no argument, for leave they must and they had to go somewhere.

‘All right,’ she said heavily. ‘We’ll go back to York, but I don’t think your mother will be happy about it. We don’t want to run into those friends of the
Hardings.’

Miriam dismissed Kitty’s anxieties with a wave of her slim, elegant hand. ‘In a city that size? Talk sense, Kitty. It’s hardly likely, now is it?’

‘I suppose not, miss,’ Kitty said reluctantly. ‘But I still don’t think your mother will approve.’ Or, she thought silently, about what’s happened here. But
because she was relieved that at least Miriam was in a better mood now, Kitty held her tongue.

The hotel they booked into was sumptuous. Miriam demanded a room on the second floor where the long windows overlooked a fine view of the racecourse.

‘You’re on the next floor up,’ Miriam informed Kitty. ‘A smaller room. You don’t need a room this size.’

‘Thank you, miss,’ Kitty murmured and turned away to hide her smile. Back in Miss Miriam’s world, she was immediately put in her place as maid. There would be no further
sharing of meals and cosy chats in front of the fire on lonely evenings. Now Miriam dressed in brighter colours and insisted on taking her meals downstairs in the dining room with the other
guests.

‘I don’t see why I have to wear black all the time. Why can’t my supposed husband be away at sea, or somewhere?’

‘Because,’ Kitty explained patiently, ‘if he’s not dead, then it would look rather strange that he didn’t come home at the time of your confinement.’

‘That’s ridiculous.’ A frown puckered Miriam’s smooth forehead. ‘We’ll just say he’s at sea and that he can’t get home.’

Kitty sighed. ‘As you please, miss.’

‘Well, I do please, Clegg. I’m sick of hiding myself away.’

Kitty was silent, but inwardly she sighed. They had been away from home not quite four weeks and already Miriam was bored and longing for company. It would not be possible to hide her condition
much longer with voluminous clothing and then it would be considered ‘not quite the thing’ for a woman to be seen out in polite society. For the moment Kitty said nothing, but she could
foresee more storms ahead.

Kitty loved the city of York and never tired of wandering through its narrow streets where sometimes the timber-framed houses overhung the street itself almost as if they were
leaning towards each other to touch.

On the first full day after they had settled into the hotel, the young maid was eager to witness, first-hand, the sights and sounds and smells of a big city.

‘Come on, Miss Miriam, do come into the town with me. It’ll do you good.’

‘I can’t be bothered. And I don’t want to be “done good”. I just want to lie here and be miserable.’

Kitty argued no more and closed the door softly behind her. If Miss Miriam wants to wallow in self-pity, she thought grimly, then, just for once, today I’m going to let her. Today, Kitty
promised herself, I’m going to enjoy myself.

It was a long walk into the centre of the city, but, keeping the Minster as a beacon, Kitty set off at a brisk pace, well wrapped up in her cape and hat. Soon, she found herself in a maze of
streets all radiating from the Minster, narrow cobbled streets where shopkeepers’ wares encroached on to the pavements. Then suddenly she was in a market place where farmers brought their
vegetables in season from the countryside in huge round baskets. One such farmer, dressed incongruously in a black jacket and top hat, sat on a sack of potatoes amid an early harvest of spring
cabbages, Brussels sprouts, carrots and broccoli overflowing on to the pavement all around him. Women moved among the produce, questioning and bartering for the best bargain and Kitty paused to
listen to the banter. It reminded her of Mrs Grundy and how she haggled over the price of a joint of beef with the butcher in Tresford. Even though the money was not coming from her own pocket, it
was a matter of pride for the cook to get the best cut at the keenest price for her mistress.

Kitty moved on to where a woman was perching on the edge of a box surrounded by row upon row of china plates, cups, saucers, bowls, even a pair of spotted china dogs, all spread around her on
the cobbles of the square. The woman, her hands folded across her ample stomach, was dressed in a black dress, cape and hat and wore a long white apron. ‘Best Staffordshire pottery,’
she called out in a loud, raucous voice. ‘Not a crack, not a chip nowhere . . .’

A young woman pushed a perambulator close by, the large wheels rattling over the cobbled surface so that the child inside the carriage was shaken and buffeted and began to whimper.

Kitty stood still, suddenly realizing that they had bought nothing in readiness for the child that would surely be born. Not even a blanket to wrap it in, never mind clothes, she thought. She
frowned. Miriam flatly refused to talk about the child, so that any preparations would be difficult, if not impossible, to make.

Kitty moved on down another street and was obliged to step smartly out of the way as a bus, drawn by two horses, rattled close by her. The bus had large wooden wheels just like those on a farm
wagon, but instead of the vehicle carrying crops, it carried people. The lower deck afforded some shelter for the passengers, having glass windows, but on the top deck, reached by curving steps at
the back of the bus, the passengers sat on wooden seats open to the weather and looked not only in a decidedly precarious state, but very cold too.

On she walked and now she saw a tram running on metal rails in the middle of the street, designed in much the same manner as the horse-drawn bus, with a covered lower deck and an open upper
deck. Then Kitty found herself standing on the slope of the bridge crossing over the river. She leaned over the parapet looking down into the swirling waters and then up at all the tall warehouses
that lined the banks on either side. She turned and walked back again to lose herself in the maze of streets, entranced by so many different shops and all the people hurrying about their
business.

She walked past a florist’s where the smell of the flowers made her think instantly of home, then on past a tailor’s who, incongruously, advertised firewood for sale. Next door was a
restaurant with the day’s menus chalked on a board propped in the doorway. Kitty paused, feeling suddenly hungry, yet she must not spend their precious money on treats for herself. Cut off
from contacting home, except in the case of a real emergency, Kitty knew they must eke out the money Mrs Franklin had given them. Too much already had been spent on reimbursing Mrs Bradshaw for
breakages.

Resolutely, Kitty turned away from the restaurant almost catching her head on some tyres hanging up outside a cycle shop next door. ‘I wish I could ride a bicycle,’ she murmured
wistfully. ‘Then I could go for long rides out into the country.’

While she loved the new adventure of city life, she yearned for the smells of the countryside, the open roads and the fields of waving corn . . .

And then she thought of Jack.

‘Kitty, lay out my best blue silk gown for this evening. I’m having dinner with Mr Radford tonight.’

‘We didn’t bring your blue gown, miss. And who,’ she added, a note of sternness in her tone, ‘is Mr Radford?’

The girl spun round and, deliberately ignoring the last part of Kitty’s question, berated her maid. ‘Didn’t bring it?
We
didn’t bring it? You, you mean. You
didn’t bring it. Why on earth not? You’re useless. I’ve a good mind to dismiss you.’

Calmly, knowing full well that this, at least, was an idle threat for Miriam Franklin could not do without Kitty, certainly not for the next few months, she said, ‘I didn’t bring it
because you’re supposed to be a widow and a blue gown is hardly appropriate.’

‘I told you to forget all that nonsense now. Well, there’s nothing for it, we shall just have to go into the city and buy a gown for tonight. I’m certainly not going out to
dine with a gentleman wearing
black
.’

‘He can’t be a gentleman if he’s asking a married lady out to dine,’ Kitty said tersely.

‘He’s not going to know I’m married.’ Inclining her head coyly to one side, Miriam made a great show of removing the two rings from her finger and slipping them into her
jewellery case. ‘He’s a very handsome man and . . .’

‘So’s Jack Thorndyke,’ Kitty muttered, but Miriam, lost in her romantic notions, appeared not to hear.

‘ . . . and I deserve a little fun.’

‘Really?’ Kitty said tartly. ‘And how did you meet this handsome Mr Radford?’

‘He was here three evenings ago, dining with some friends in the hotel restaurant. I saw him keep looking across at me all evening and later he spoke to me. Then last night when I came out
of the dining room he was waiting in the lounge and we got talking.’

Appalled, Kitty said, ‘Do you mean you weren’t introduced to him properly by – by . . .’ she hesitated and finished lamely, ‘someone?’

‘And just who around here,’ Miriam said with sarcasm, ‘is going to make formal introductions for me when I don’t know anyone? Talk sense, Kitty.’

‘But – but you shouldn’t allow anyone to – to just start talking to you like that. It isn’t done.’

‘Well, I’m not exactly noted for sticking to the rules of polite society,’ Miriam said and patted her stomach. ‘And as for any reputation I might have had, well, I rather
think that’s gone now, don’t you?’ There was bitterness in her tone and Kitty stepped towards her.

‘That’s why we’re here, miss. To try to save your reputation. Please, don’t go making things worse.’

Miriam turned her back on her but not before Kitty had seen the tears that sprang into the girl’s eyes. Feeling suddenly sorry for her, Kitty put her arm about the girl. ‘I’m
not trying to stop you having a bit of fun. Just – just worried for you. Honestly.’

The girl’s shoulders, beneath Kitty’s arm, were stiff and resentful. ‘You don’t know anything about how I feel. How could you?’

There was a moment’s silence and then Kitty felt her relax. Miriam leaned against her and a huge sigh, welling up from deep within, escaped her lips. The two young girls, close in age yet
so different in their station in life, looked into each other’s eyes.

‘I suppose,’ Miriam said slowly, ‘maybe you do understand. I thought I loved him, you see, and I thought he loved me. He was so handsome, so strong. He was like a magnet
drawing me to him and I – I couldn’t resist.’

I know, I know, Kitty felt like screaming at her. Do you think I don’t know exactly how it feels? But she was silent.

Miriam’s mouth twisted with a wry smile. ‘There but for the grace of God go you, eh, Kitty? Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad for you. I mean, it often happens in your class,
doesn’t it?’

Kitty bristled and swallowed a sharp retort, managing to say, ‘It’s still considered wrong to give yasen to a man before marriage.’ And added, with a pointed sarcasm that was
completely lost on Miriam, ‘Even in our class.’

‘I suppose so,’ Miriam murmured, her mind still full of her own problems.

‘And I’d have been dismissed without a reference and sent home in disgrace.’ Kitty gave an involuntary shudder. ‘And what me dad would have said then, I don’t
know.’

Miriam was silent, but she pulled away from Kitty and moved restlessly about the room, picking up a hairbrush and then putting it down again; opening and shutting the wardrobe door.

Suddenly, she whirled around, her eyes shining and her good mood obviously restored. ‘Oh Kitty, please, let’s go into the town and buy me a gown for this evening?’

Kitty opened her mouth to argue again, but she realized that it would be futile. ‘Yes, miss,’ she said, with, for once, the submissiveness that was to be expected from a servant.

Anything, she was thinking, to keep Miss Miriam in a good temper.

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