Chaff upon the Wind (21 page)

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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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Twenty-Four

From the guests’ lounge, looking through an internal window into the dining room, Kitty watched as her young mistress dined with the young man, Mr Radford. Miriam’s
face was animated. She laughed and fluttered her eyelashes and allowed her hand to rest every now and again, just for a moment, on the young man’s arm.

She’s flirting with him, Kitty thought. Openly and outrageously. Was that how she had flirted with Threshing Jack? Or with him, had she remained aloof and seemingly untouchable so that the
challenge for a man like Jack Thorndyke had been just too much and he’d crossed the class divide to claim a trophy?

Kitty turned away feeling lost and lonely, as pictures of Jack and Miriam together tortured her imagination. But there would be someone else now, for he would not go long without finding another
girl to meet in the shadows of a stackyard, to nestle into the hay . . . She gave a low groan, closed her eyes and shook her head. In spite of her anger, she was missing him. Even the thought of
him, the memory of his arms about her and the warmth of his lips upon hers, made her heart quicken. And it was not only Jack she was missing. She missed Mrs Grundy’s motherly ways as well as
her own family; her mother, father and Milly and all her brothers and sisters.

She gave an involuntary shudder at the sudden thought of what would happen when they went home. Already she felt guilty about all the deceit. Just how were they going to carry it off with tales
of their wonderful trip abroad when they hadn’t even left England?

Kitty sighed as she took one last glance at Miriam with her head thrown back, laughing gaily and coquettishly at something Mr Radford was saying. She looked as if she had not a care in the world
while Kitty felt she bore the whole weight of their trouble on her young shoulders.

Mr Radford, Kitty had to admit, seemed a gentleman. He was courteous, attentive and charming and even polite to Kitty herself, whereas she was quite used to being completely
ignored by the so-called gentry.

‘Mr Radford is taking me into the city today. We’re going to have lunch somewhere. You can take the rest of the day off, Kitty.’

‘Thank you, miss,’ Kitty replied, her pleasure genuine. She never tired of walking around the beautiful city and today she would have another chance.

‘See you later,’ Miriam said gaily, waving her now ring-less hand.

Watching her go, Kitty shook her head. You won’t have many more weeks of freedom, she thought, maybe you had better make the most of it. When Miriam’s condition became obvious, life
was going to be very difficult.

The three weeks in the little village on the coast had proved that.

‘Oh Kitty, Anthony is wonderful. And he’s wealthy. He’s got a brand-new motor car. He’s taking me for a drive into the country tomorrow.’ Miriam
clapped her hands together and twirled around the huge bedroom like any girl who has just met a handsome young man and knows herself attractive to him too.

Kitty opened her mouth to remind Miriam of the reason they were here at all, but she closed it again without saying a word. Time enough, she thought with a sigh, to spoil her fun when I must.
Instead, all she said was, ‘Then you must wrap up warm, miss. Those motor cars are draughty and it’s still cold, even though it is spring.’

‘Yes, yes, yes, Kitty. Don’t fuss so. You’re beginning to sound like my mother.’

Yes, me fine lady, Kitty thought grimly. And I feel like it, an’ all. But again she said nothing, knowing full well that in the months ahead she would have to be everything to her young
mistress. Maid, friend, comforter, mother and maybe even midwife. Thank goodness she had been beside her own mother when she’d given birth to the youngest. At least Kitty knew what lay in
store even if Miriam didn’t know what awaited her. Caught up in the whirlwind of this new romance, Miriam seemed to have forgotten that she was carrying a child. Or she was deliberately
ignoring the fact.

The following day was wet and cold and a strong wind blew across the vale of York.

‘It’s not quite the weather for our little trip, Miss Franklin.’ Kitty watched as Anthony Radford took Miriam’s hand in his and raised it to his lips. He was quite a
nice-looking young fellow, Kitty thought, eyeing him critically, though she wouldn’t have called him handsome. His colouring was too dull for Kitty’s liking. Mousy hair and pale grey
eyes and a skin that was almost sallow. Compared to the earthy, swarthy features of Jack Thorndyke, poor Anthony Radford looked insipid. Yet he seemed kindly and was undoubtedly a gentleman. And,
as Miriam had said, a wealthy one too, if the gleaming new motor car parked in front of the hotel was anything to go by.

‘But we’ll drive a little way out of the city. I know a quaint little restaurant where we can have lunch. Low beams and a log fire burning. You’ll love it . . .’ He
crooked his arm and with a small laugh of delight, Miriam put her hand on it and allowed herself to be led out to his motor without so much as a backward glance at Kitty.

Kitty was lying on her bed late in the afternoon while the light faded from the window of her small room. She had spent the day inside the Minster, marvelling at the beautiful
stained-glass windows, walking on tiptoe across the flagstones so that her footsteps did not echo in the reverent silence. Now she was tired and she felt herself drifting into sleep when suddenly
the door was flung open so violently that it crashed back against the wall and shuddered on its hinges.

‘Kitty, Kitty, get up. Get our things packed. We’re leaving.’ Miriam was grasping her shoulder and shaking her awake.

‘Wha—?’ Kitty struggled to sit up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. ‘Whatever’s the matter, miss?’ But even as she asked the question she was swinging her
legs to the floor, standing up and straightening her uniform. ‘What’s happened?’

Her question followed Miriam out of the door, for she was hurrying out of Kitty’s bedroom, across the landing and down the stairs towards her own room. ‘Don’t argue, Kitty.
Just do as I say.’

So, Kitty followed.

As she entered Miriam’s room, her young mistress had already flung wide the wardrobe doors and was scooping armfuls of clothes from their hangers and flinging them on to the bed as if
there was not a moment to lose.

‘I’ll ring for the bellboy to bring our trunks and boxes, miss.’

‘Yes, you do that, Kitty, but hurry. We must
go
.’

‘But where are we going?’ Kitty asked helplessly. ‘We can’t keep moving about like this. Not for much longer, specially when—’

Miriam whirled around, her green eyes flashing angrily. ‘Do as you’re told, Kitty, get our things packed.’

Kitty took a deep breath and decided to stand her ground. She liked York, she liked the hotel they were staying in. She didn’t want to go. And unless Miriam had a very good reason, she was
damned if they were going to move on again like a couple of gypsies.

‘Not,’ she said with quiet, controlled firmness, ‘until you explain to me why we have to go.’

Miriam came towards her and for a split second Kitty thought the girl was about to strike her, but suddenly the fight seemed to drain away. She gave a groan and put her hand to her belly and
sank down into a chair near the window. Covering her face with her hands, she said, in a muffled voice, ‘We’ve got to go, Kitty, else we’ll be found out.’

Kitty moved closer and knelt in front of her, trying to pull her hands away from her face. ‘Why? Is it something to do with Mr Radford?’

‘Yes, yes,
yes
.’ With sudden impatience, Miriam stood up, flinging Kitty off balance so that she ended up sprawling in an ungainly heap on the floor. Taking not the slightest
notice of her maid, Miriam began pacing the room with angry, jerky movements.

‘We were talking . . .’ she waved her hand expressively. ‘You know how it is?’ Kitty did not know for she had never been wined and dined in expensive restaurants by a
wealthy young gentleman, but she made no comment. ‘He was telling me how his family have a large estate just south of York and – and that they have land in other parts of the country.
In other counties. He – he asked me where I came from . . .’ She leaned on the wide windowsill and rested her forehead against the cool glass. ‘Oh Kitty, I wasn’t thinking.
I told him. And – and then,’ her voice dropped to an incredulous whisper, ‘I can hardly believe it, he – he said he knew someone from that part of the world. Sir Ralph
Harding and, more particularly, his son, Guy.’ Flatly, she said again, ‘Kitty, he knows Guy. In fact it’s worse than that, he’s quite friendly with him. Evidently, Guy often
c-comes to York . . .’ Her voice faltered and fell away.

‘Oh miss,’ Kitty said, aghast. ‘It must be the people your mother meant. That was why she was so adamant that we must not stay long in York.’

‘But it’s so stupid. To think, out of all the people in York, I have to meet up with
him
.’

‘Well yes, it does seem too much of a coincidence to be believed, but there it is. It’s happened.’

Miriam glanced at Kitty. ‘So, what are we going to do?’

Kitty bit her lip. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said slowly at last, her voice heavy with disappointment. ‘We had better leave York.’

‘What are you waiting for then, girl? Get packing. There’s not a moment to lose.’

‘There’s one thing we must do first, though, miss.’

‘What?’

‘Check what money we’ve got.’

Miriam blinked. ‘Money? What do you mean, what money we’ve got?’

‘Your mother only gave us a certain amount and this hotel has been expensive. Then there was your new gown . . .’

Miriam frowned. ‘But I thought Mother made arrangements for money to be sent to us?’

Kitty nodded. ‘She did. At Robin Hood’s Bay.’

‘Well, won’t the old witch send it on?’

‘We haven’t told her where we are, have we?’

Miriam pulled a face. ‘Then you’d better write and tell her, when we’ve got settled somewhere.’

Silently, Kitty thought, but how long will we be in the next place? Aloud she said, ‘I will, but in the meantime, have we enough money for our fare to – well – wherever
we’re going and enough to book into a small guesthouse or rooms?’

Miriam looked at her blankly. ‘How should I know? I don’t know anything about money.’

Kitty, sighing at the helplessness of spoilt little rich girls, said, ‘Show me what we’ve got left.’

Miriam found her purse and tipped out a few coins on to the bed. ‘There. Satisfied?’

Kitty counted it swiftly. ‘There’s not nearly enough here. Is that really all?’

‘Well, yes. You see, I thought the hotel would just give us a bill at the end of our stay and that my father . . .’ She stared up at Kitty. ‘Oh. I hadn’t
thought.’

‘Exactly, miss,’ Kitty said grimly. The girl had indeed thought nothing out. ‘How can your father possibly settle the bill when he thinks you’re in the south of France,
or somewhere?’

Miriam stared down at the coins. ‘What are we going to do?’

Kitty folded her arms and tapped her toe on the floor. ‘Well, in my class, miss, if we need a bit of extra money in a hurry, we pawn summat.’

Miriam looked up at her again and blinked. ‘Pawn? What’s that?’

Kitty was startled. ‘You mean, you don’t know what to pawn something means?’

Miriam shook her head.

‘Most places have one. We’ve got one in Tresford.’

‘Really? Where?’

‘Old Mr Rivers on Main Street.’

‘Oh. I always thought that was just a second-hand shop.’

‘Well, it is – of sorts. What Mr Rivers does – and I expect it’s more or less the same anywhere – is lend you money on an object of some value for a certain length
of time, say a week or maybe two.’

‘Then what?’

‘You redeem it. You pay him back the money he lent you, plus a bit for him having lent you it.’

‘Sort of interest, you mean?’

Now it was Kitty’s turn not to understand a term, but she was a bit more wily than to admit her ignorance. ‘I expect so. And you get the goods back.’ She giggled. ‘A lot
of the farm labourers’ wives take their husband’s best suit in on a Monday and redeem it on a Saturday ready for Church on Sunday and then, by Monday, it’s back in the pawn
shop.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really.’

Miriam was quiet for a moment as if thinking. ‘But what can we pawn?’

Kitty was amused at the ‘we’, as if Miriam assumed her maid had anything worth pawning, but she said, ‘Well, there’s your rings of course, but I don’t think you
should pawn them, miss, as we might not get back to redeem them and . . .’

Miriam shuddered. ‘Oh heavens, no. If my father found out I’d pawned his mother’s rings . . .’

She did not continue. She had no need to do so, for Kitty understood only too well. She put her head on one side, eyeing Miriam and knowing she was taking a risk. ‘There is that new dress
you’ve bought. You’re really not going to have much use for it for a while, now are you?’

She had fully expected an angry outburst, but Miriam merely looked at the dress lying on the bed waiting to be packed and said dolefully, ‘No, I suppose you’re right. Take it, Kitty,
but mind you get a fair price for it.’

An hour later Kitty was walking along a narrow street searching above her head for the pawnbroker’s sign. There were various signs bearing shopkeepers’ names or advertising the
nature of their business, like the huge broom-head that hung above one entrance, but nowhere could she see the well-known trade mark of the pawnbroker. It was not until she had walked up and down
the same street three times reading every sign that she realized that the lamp decorated with a leaf design was, in fact, adorning the premises she was looking for.

As she entered the dusty interior, a bell above the door clanged and an elderly man shuffled out from the back of the shop.

‘How much could you give me on this gown, please?’ Kitty asked holding up the blue satin garment.

‘My word, that’s a fine gown.’

She felt the old man eyeing the maid’s uniform beneath her cape. ‘Belong to your mistress, does it?’

Kitty nodded.

‘You pinched it?’

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