A Loving Family (13 page)

Stella pulled up a stool and sat down. ‘Yes, I'm Stella. How are you feeling today?'

‘Just the same as I was yesterday, and the day before and the day before that too. Time drags when you're old and on your own.' She gave the cat a gentle push and he landed on the floor with an aggrieved twitch of his tail. ‘He needs to go outside, dear. Would you see to him, please? Sukey hasn't turned up again. I'll have to hire another maid.'

Stella stood up. ‘I'll take him out to the yard and I'll fetch some coal for the fire. It's chilly in here.'

‘And a cup of tea would go down nicely,' Maud said with a hint of a smile. ‘I enjoyed the pie your mother brought me for my supper. Is she coming today?'

‘Maybe later. I'll just see to the fire and put the kettle on.' Stella picked up the kettle and shooed the cat out of the door. It showed little sign of wanting to go out of its own accord and she hoisted it under her arm and carried it downstairs to the backyard. ‘Do what you have to do, Timmy,' she said, putting him down.

‘Talking to the cat, are we? That must be a sign of madness. The old girl is quite loony and it seems to be catching.'

Stella turned to see a young man leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his hand. Taking note of the bloodied state of his apron she decided he was one of the butcher's boys. ‘She's just a lonely old woman living on her own except for a dumb animal. You might not be so quick to judge if you were in a similar situation.' Stella went to the pump and began to fill the kettle.

‘No offence meant, lady.' He stepped forward and took the pump handle, working it with a strong arm so that the water gushed out at full force. ‘Are you a relative of hers?'

‘Yes.' Stella was not about to go through the details with a stranger.

‘Cyril Cole at your service, miss. Now we ain't strangers no more. What's your name then, sweet?'

‘I'm Miss Barry and I'm not your sweet anything.'

He chuckled. ‘Hoity-toity. But I'll tell you one thing. I bet you're related to that dark-haired woman what come here to see the old girl last year. Like as two peas in a pod you are.'

Stella felt as if the yard with all its grim reminders of the slaughterhouse was spinning round her. ‘Say that again, Cyril.'

He steadied her with his arm around her shoulders. ‘Hold on, girl. What did I say?'

She pulled away from him. ‘You mentioned a woman who looks like me. When did you see her? Tell me – I must know.'

STELLA KNELT DOWN
in front of the fire, poking the embers into life and adding a few lumps of coal. ‘You do remember my mother, don't you, Aunt Maud?'

‘Of course I do, dear. Jacinta was a little beauty, with raven hair and large brown eyes like a young fawn. It was tragic how she lost both parents at Scutari. But for Isaac and his mother she might have starved in the gutter for all her grandfather cared. Saul Wilton was a hard man and he would never have taken her in.'

‘That was a long time ago, Aunt Maud.' Satisfied that the fire was burning well Stella scrambled to her feet. ‘I'll put the kettle on and make a pot of tea. Have you eaten anything today?'

‘I don't know, dear. I forget.'

Stella went to the cupboard and found that the pie had been devoured by mice, leaving only an empty piece of muslin with a trail of droppings leading to a hole in the skirting board. She sighed. ‘I'll go to the shop, Aunt Maud.'

‘Your mother brought me some pie yesterday.' Maud looked up expectantly. ‘I remember now.'

Stella hesitated, recalling her conversation with the butcher's boy. ‘Do you remember a time last year when my mother came to see you?'

‘She was here just yesterday. I told you that, dear. You are so like her, and she never seems to age. You could be sisters.'

Biting back an impatient response, Stella tried again. ‘I spoke to a young man in the yard who remembered seeing Ma here some time ago. Did she come often?'

‘Not often.'

‘But she did come here.'

Maud's eyes darkened and her bottom lip trembled. ‘Jacinta was afraid of something or someone. She was very frightened.'

‘Was she in some kind of trouble, Aunt?'

‘She had to get back to the house before he discovered she was missing.' Maud sat forward, looking Stella in the eye. ‘“He's a brute,” she says. “He beats me, Aunt Maud.”' She fell back against the cushions. ‘That's what she told me then. I'd forgotten until now. I can still see her poor sad face.'

‘Did she say anything else? Who was the man who beat her?'

‘It was her master. That's all I know, my dear. I've tried to put it from my mind, because I could do nothing to help her.' Maud closed her eyes. ‘I couldn't do anything.' Tears oozed from beneath her wrinkled eyelids and her spectacles slipped down to the tip of her nose.

‘Don't upset yourself.' Stella's heart was racing and she took a deep breath. She must keep calm. If she pursued the matter further the old lady might slip back into her confused mental state. ‘I'll go out and get some food, Aunt Maud. I won't be long.'

When she returned she found Timmy waiting outside the door. He rushed in the moment she opened it and leapt onto his mistress's lap. Maud awakened with a start. ‘Where have you been, you bad boy?'

Stella placed her purchases on the table and took off her bonnet and shawl. ‘I'll just make a pot of tea, Aunt Maud. And I'll butter some bread for you.'

‘You're a good girl, Jacinta,' Maud said sleepily. ‘Did you pass your daughter on the way in? I think she's looking for you.'

It was obvious that Maud's rare moment of lucidity had passed. She had lapsed into a state of blissful forgetfulness, when time and place meant nothing to her. She stroked Timmy, rocking gently to and fro with her eyes closed and Stella could not tell which of them was making the purring sound, but they both seemed content.

She made the tea, sliced and buttered bread and pulled the table closer to Maud's chair. She shook her gently by the shoulder. ‘Wake up, Aunt Maud. Drink your tea and have something to eat. I have to leave now, but I'll come back later and make sure you're all right.'

Maud reached for the cup. ‘Send Sukey to me, dear. I need a clean shift.'

‘Don't worry, Aunt Maud. You'll be taken care of from now on.'

Stella was angry. She left the building intent on having a few words with Maud's neglectful stepson, but there was no one in the office when she arrived at the funeral parlour. Loud howls emanated from the workshop accompanied by the thwacking sound of a cane hitting bare flesh. She went to investigate and found Ronald standing over Spike, whose small body was bent over a chair. His bare backside was covered in savage red welts, and Ronald was preparing to strike again. Stella rushed at him and grabbed his arm. ‘Stop that, you brute.'

Ronald flung her off with a deep-throated growl. ‘Mind your own bloody business. Get out of here. This has nothing to do with you.'

She saved herself from falling by clutching at a half-finished coffin. Splinters of wood pierced her fingers but she was too angry to feel pain. ‘Let him go. No one deserves to be beaten so cruelly.'

Spike crawled away, pulling up his torn breeches. ‘I done nothing, miss.'

‘I've every right to chastise my apprentice,' Ronald said through clenched teeth. ‘Get out of here, you interfering trollop. If you want to find your mother I suggest you start by looking in the kip-houses. That's where you'll find the Spanish whore.'

Infuriated beyond endurance Stella raised her hand and caught him a glancing blow on the side of his head. He staggered but recovered and would have retaliated but for Spike, who put his head down and charged him like a billy-goat. Ronald fell flat on the floor, landing on a pile of wood shavings. Stella grabbed Spike by the hand. ‘Come with me. We'd best get out of here.' She made for the door but Ronald reached out and caught her by the ankle, tripping her so that she stumbled and went down on her knees.

‘Let her go,' Spike screamed. ‘You mean old bastard. Leave her be.'

Stella kicked out but Ronald slid both hands up her legs and pinned her to the floor. ‘You want to play rough, little lady? I can oblige you.' He jerked his head in Spike's direction. ‘Get out. This is between her and me.'

Spike fisted his small hands but the shop bell jangled and there was a moment of silence, followed by brisk footsteps. A shadow in the doorway blocked the light. ‘What's going on here?' Kit Rivenhall strode into the workshop. He grabbed Spike by the scruff of the neck. ‘What's the matter?'

Spike pointed a shaking finger at his master as he attempted to rise. ‘He's going to kill her, boss.'

Kit released him. ‘Out of the way, boy.' He dragged Ronald to his feet, giving him a mighty shove that sent him toppling into the unfinished coffin. ‘Stay there or I'll nail the lid down, you miserable bastard.' He helped Stella to her feet. ‘Are you hurt?'

She shook out her skirts, brushing sawdust from the material. ‘I'm more furious than hurt. That brute was beating the poor boy until he bled.'

‘I'll have you for assault,' Ronald growled from the confines of the coffin.

‘And I'll show the coppers me bum,' Spike said, rubbing his sore backside. ‘You're a vicious old bugger and I ain't working for you no more. You can polish your own coffins from now on.'

Ronald moved, attempting to rise, but a look from Kit was enough to make him subside into the unpadded interior of the wooden box. ‘Boys like you are two a penny,' he growled. ‘Get out of my sight, all of you.'

‘I haven't had my say yet.' Stella stood arms akimbo, glaring down at him. ‘I won't waste my breath telling you what I think of you, but I will say that you've treated your stepmother very badly indeed. The poor lady needs care and attention. What would your father have said had he seen the neglect she's suffered at your hands? Do you think your clients would want to deal with a man who neglects the woman who raised him like a mother?'

‘I don't need you or anyone to tell me how to treat the old bitch. She'll get what she deserves. No more, no less. As for you, you're no better than your Spanish whore of a mother.' He glared at Kit and shook his fist. ‘Look to his family if you want to know what happened to Jacinta Romero.'

Kit hoisted the coffin lid from where it was leaning against the wall and dropped it into place, muffling Ronald's cries of protest. ‘Come along, Stella. I'll see you home.' He held his hand out to Spike. ‘You'd best come too. Your life won't be worth living if you stay here.'

Spike tucked his small hand into Kit's. ‘You're a toff, mister.'

Stella followed them into the office. ‘What about your sister's work, Kit? I don't think she'll be very welcome here now.'

‘She won't.' Ronald's muffled tones came from inside the coffin. ‘If any of you come near me again, you'll be sorry. And that goes for the old bitch. If you care so much for her, you can have her. I wash my hands of her from this moment on.'

Spike pulled free from Kit's restraining hand and raced back into the workshop to hammer his small fists on the coffin lid. ‘I'd nail you in if I was him. I hopes you rot in hell, you old bugger.' He turned and hobbled out of reach as Ronald kicked the roughly hewn plank away using both feet.

‘I'll get even with all of you,' he shouted after them. ‘You'll be sorry for today's work. I promise you that.'

Rosa was about to leave the house in Fleur-de-Lis Street when they arrived. Clutching a basket filled with paper flowers in one hand and the door key in the other, she hesitated on the doorstep. ‘This is a surprise. Why are you back so soon?'

‘I went to the funeral parlour,' Kit said before Stella had a chance to answer. ‘I decided that you'd been working too hard for too little money and so I went to see the old skinflint.'

‘And he saved me from being murdered,' Spike said, pulling a face. ‘I really thought the bugger was going to kill me.'

‘Kit saved us both,' Stella added. ‘I went to give Ronald Clifford a piece of my mind about the way he'd been neglecting his stepmother, and I found him laying into this poor boy. I think he might have attacked me if Kit had not intervened.'

‘So you're the hero of the hour, brother.' Rosa prodded him playfully in the ribs. ‘Who would have thought it?'

Kit smiled reluctantly. ‘I'm afraid you've lost your job, but the fellow was cheating you.'

‘Well, what's done is done.' Rosa thrust the door open. ‘Come inside. You too, Spike.'

‘I'm late for court so I'd better be on my way.' Kit tipped his hat to Stella. ‘Take my advice and keep away from Clifford in future.'

‘Thank you for coming to the rescue,' Stella said, clutching him by the sleeve as he was about to walk away. ‘I had no idea that Ronald was such a violent man.'

‘Well, now you do.' Kit strode off, ignoring a crowd of small street arabs who were importuning him for money.

Rosa ushered Spike into the house. ‘Come along, Stella. It's not a good idea to loiter on the pavement. The little brats round here will have your purse as soon as look at you.'

Stella followed them in and closed the door. ‘We can't send the boy back to Clifford,' she whispered. ‘What will become of him?'

‘I ain't deaf, lady.' Spike folded his arms across his skinny chest. ‘I'll tell you something for nothing. I ain't going back to the workhouse neither. I'd sooner starve on the street than go through them doors.'

Rosa took him by the shoulders and spun him round to face the kitchen. ‘No one is going to send you to the workhouse. We'll just have to put our thinking caps on and decide what is best. In the meantime we'll get you something to eat and drink and then we'll talk it over.'