Beyond the Veil of Tears (38 page)

‘She’s not like that.’

‘No? Everyone wants to be loved, lad. And love breeds love. My Ava was fair gone on me brother when we were youngsters and living next door, and when he upped and married another lass, she
took me as second best. She didn’t say that, mind, but I knew. But I loved her enough for both of us, you know?’

Jack nodded. He knew all right.

‘But I tell you, lad, and this is no lie, before we’d even had our first bairn she told me she loved me. And I knew she did – same as I’d known when she didn’t. We
had fifty happy years together before she passed on last Christmas. We raised seven bairns and they’ve got umpteen bairns of their own. I couldn’t tell you how many; Ava knew all that.
And now it’s just Buster an’ me, but that’s all right. I had me time of loving.’

That’s what he wanted. His time of loving. He stared at the old man who was fiddling with his pipe, which had gone out. As the dog whined plaintively, Jack bent down and patted it, getting
a growl for his efforts.

‘Don’t mind him. He’s an awkward little cuss, but we rub along well together, probably because I’m the same. See you, lad.’

‘Aye, an’ thanks. Thanks.’

As the old man shuffled on up the lane, Jack turned and walked straight into Angeline’s back yard, not giving himself time to think. He thought he caught a glimpse of her through the
window, sitting at the table, but he knocked on the back door – or hammered on it to be more accurate.

When she called out, ‘Who’s there?’ he realized he’d probably frightened her, and his voice was soft as he answered, ‘It’s me, lass. Jack. I need to talk to
you.’

‘I . . . I’m just going to go to bed.’

‘It won’t take long. I want to apologize, face-to-face.’ It cut him to the quick that her voice held a note of fear even though she knew it was him, but then what did he
expect? She probably thought he wasn’t through with ranting and raving. When the door opened she was holding herself straight and her chin was up, but again he saw fear in her eyes.
‘Can I come in, lass?’

For answer she turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving the door open, and he followed her, his heart pounding. She didn’t sit down, but faced him saying, ‘You don’t need to
apologize – there’s nothing to apologize for. It’s me who should—’

‘Grace.’ He stopped. ‘Angeline,’ he went on, ‘I need to make something clear to you and, when I do, I want you to know that I expect nothing, hope for nothing,
because I know how you feel, but I have to say it. It’s not the right time and everything is all wrong, but . . . ’ He stopped again, drawing in a deep breath. She was standing as stiff
as a board, and the guarded expression on her taut face wasn’t encouraging. But for the old man and his Ava, Jack wouldn’t have gone on. ‘I love you, lass,’ he said simply,
‘be you Grace or Angeline, or whoever. I’ve loved you for a long time.’

She still didn’t make a sound, and not a muscle of her face moved.

‘May’s told me a bit of what’s gone on in the past, and I just want you to know’ – he searched for the right words – ‘that you’re not alone. What
I mean is, you can count on me as a friend. No strings attached. And whatever you decide to do about,’ he swallowed hard, ‘your husband, I’ll support you. I . . . I was jealous,
lass. When I sounded off, I mean, but I don’t want you to think I meant it, when I said I didn’t know you. I know all I need to know—’

‘Please stop.’

‘What?’ Her whisper had been so faint that he stepped forward a pace, bending towards her.

‘I . . . I’m everything you despise.’

‘You’re everything that I love.’

‘Jack, don’t—’

‘I have to say it, lass. I should have said it years ago.’ An idea had come to him. An idea so preposterous, so impossible, it couldn’t be true, but it gave him the courage to
reach out and pull her into his arms. For a moment she remained stiff and unyielding, and he thought he’d made a terrible mistake. And then she melted against him, her face turning up to his,
and he was kissing her with all the passion and all the longing he’d kept hidden for seven years; kissing her until they were breathless and gasping as they swayed together in an agony of
need.

It was a long time later – a time spent in murmurings and wondering words of love and more kisses mixed with tears – that Jack whispered, ‘You love me? This isn’t a
dream?’

Her arms tightened around him. ‘For a long time.’

‘Oh, my love.’

‘But I thought you’d hate me, if you knew the truth.’

‘How could I hate you?’

‘But there’s so much you don’t know.’

‘Then tell me.’ He lifted her chin, kissing her full on the mouth, with such love in his eyes that she couldn’t doubt it. ‘Tell me all of it. I want to know everything
about you; every tiny thing from when you were born till now. But let me say one thing: I promise you that whatever I hear, it won’t affect what I feel for you. And I love your name . . .
Angeline. My Angel. That’s what I shall call you from now on: Angel. Has anyone else ever called you that?’

‘My mama sometimes, when I was a little girl.’ Mama. It reminded him that she was from a different world, but their two worlds were merging and he would make sure she never had cause
to doubt him again.

Mr Havelock of Havelock & Son, Solicitors, stared at his trusted clerk and the young woman Jack had brought in to see him. She had told an astonishing story, but he
didn’t doubt for one moment that it was true, or that the lady in question, who had gone by the name of Grace Cunningham for the last few years but was in fact Mrs Angeline Golding, had been
severely ill-used.

However, he doubted he could say anything to her that would bring her any comfort; and if the situation escalated into a legal battle with the husband, she had absolutely no chance of winning.
It wasn’t this that really concerned him, though. He had grown fond of Jack over the years, and admired him for his principles and his determination to succeed, even when he found those same
principles and views contrary to his own. The poor had always been poor and would remain so. It was the nature of things. Jack’s desire to change the world and take on the Establishment
through legal means was commendable, but misguided. And unpopular within the profession. He hadn’t been at all surprised when, on qualifying as a solicitor, Jack had been unable to find a
practice willing to take him on in that capacity. Not with the idealist views he held. Visionaries were all very well in their right place – in the Church as missionaries, for instance
– but when it came to making money . . .

That said, he would hate to see his clerk making a fool of himself over a woman. Jack could lose everything he had worked for, and it could easily happen in this case, if he was linked with
scandal. And what a scandal this could be: a wife returning from the grave just as her husband wanted to remarry. He cleared his throat. ‘I trust you are aware, Mrs Golding, that the world in
general could well see Mr Golding as innocent in this affair, if he genuinely thought you were dead?’

‘Jack – Mr Connor – explained that, Mr Havelock.’

‘You say he committed adultery all through your marriage, with a certain lady of your social circle. Can you prove this?’

Angeline shook her head. However sympathetic to her plight Mirabelle might have been when Myrtle went to see her seven years ago, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Mirabelle would not
admit to adultery with Oswald. It would ruin her husband, for one thing, and the stigma would be too great to bear. ‘No, the only way would be for the lady in question to come forward and say
so, but that would mean social suicide.’

‘Quite so. The Matrimonial Clauses Act of 1878 facilitates legal separation and maintenance for badly used wives, which is an improvement on anything before that time, but only if the
husband has been convicted of physical violence in a court of law. Is this the case?’

‘No.’

‘Likewise, whilst your husband could divorce you for adultery alone, if you had had an affair, for you to divorce him you need to prove adultery combined with desertion, cruelty, incest,
bigamy or practising an unnatural vice.’ Mr Havelock sighed. ‘What I am trying to say, Mrs Golding, is that the law favours the man in every regard. Even if you obtained a separation
order, which is highly unlikely, you would not be free to remarry and you could find yourself in an untenable position socially. I’m sorry, but I have to make this clear to you, unpleasant
though it is.’

‘I understand.’ Angeline kept her gaze on the solicitor. ‘But when I inform my husband that I am alive, I know he will want revenge, Mr Havelock. When I married him my fortune,
which was considerable, was swallowed up within the estate, and my liberty and well-being came under the dictates of my husband. In a happy marriage, that would not have been a problem to me. But
it was not a happy marriage, not from my wedding night onwards. Under the protection of the law, my husband ill-treated me physically and emotionally, ultimately causing the death of the child I
was carrying, after which he had me shut away in a lunatic asylum. He is capable of anything. I have to inform him I am alive – I know that – but at the same time I need protection from
him until somehow I can find proof of his adultery in the past and of his cruelty.’

‘You think you can do that?’

‘I don’t know, but I want to apply for a judicial separation at the same time as I inform him I am alive. At the very least I feel it will show him I mean business.’

‘Such petitions are not necessarily granted.’

‘I know.’

‘And, forgive me, Mrs Golding, but your husband might claim you are still mentally unfit and gain an order to have you recommitted to an asylum.’

‘Over my dead body,’ said Jack grimly.

‘Mr Havelock, I have paid a thousand times over for my naivety in marrying a man I had a romantic, foolish infatuation for. I don’t intend to go on paying for the rest of my life. I
would like this to go to court so that I can have my say, and believe me, I won’t come across as mentally unfit.’

The solicitor nodded. He could see what it was that had captured his clerk’s heart. ‘If your husband is as ruthless as you say he is, the weeks ahead could be highly unpleasant for
you, Mrs Golding. In many ways. Are you prepared for this?’

‘I am, and Mr Connor tells me you’re the finest solicitor in the north of England, Mr Havelock, and more than a match for anyone. If you agree to take the case, I am more than happy
to put myself in your hands. I don’t want money or financial gain. I want a legal separation, and for the world to hear what Oswald is really like.’

‘Revenge?’

‘Justice. For myself and my child.’

‘My dear, if you speak as well as this in court, we have won the case already.’ He smiled, aiming to boost her morale after all the negativity.

Angeline smiled back – the first smile since entering Mr Havelock’s office. ‘Does that mean you will represent me?’

Oh yes, he could certainly see what Jack saw in her. ‘Of course. It won’t be easy, and I regret that I will need to ask you some pertinent questions in preparation, but that will be
nothing compared to what you may have to face in court. By the very nature of your . . . ’ he gave a little cough, ‘disappearance for so long and your life under the name of Grace
Cunningham, this case will arouse a lot of interest.’

Angeline nodded. She hadn’t mentioned May’s part in her escape from the asylum, nor did she intend to. There was no need for May to be dragged into this. Howard knew the full facts,
but May’s in-laws had no idea of that period in her life. Kind as they were, to the miller and his wife respectability was everything.

‘And Jack?’ Mr Havelock turned his gaze on his clerk. ‘I don’t need to tell you that it would complicate matters if Mr Golding got wind of your friendship with Mrs
Golding. Until this is settled, discretion is the word.’

Jack nodded. ‘My sister is Mrs Golding’s close friend. I will only see her in May’s company.’

‘Better not at all.’

Angeline stared at the solicitor. ‘But . . . ’

‘No buts, Mrs Golding. You are paying for my services, and I have to advise you as I see fit. Forgive my bluntness, but whilst most folk might privately admit that marriage can be a
far-from-perfect institution, any hint of an illicit relationship on the part of the wife is fatal. Men are expected to stray; women are not. It is as simple as that.’

Angeline’s cheeks were fiery, but as she opened her mouth to protest, Jack said quietly, ‘Mr Havelock is right, Angel.’

‘But it’s so wrong.’

‘I agree, but he is right.’

She looked into Jack’s beautiful green eyes and saw that he meant it. ‘It’s so unfair.’

He smiled the smile that made her weak at the knees. ‘It will only be for a short while, because Mr Havelock will do all he can to bring the case to court as quickly as possible.
Isn’t that right, Mr Havelock?’

Jim Havelock nodded. If this pair managed to follow his advice for more than a week he would be amazed, so time was definitely of the essence, but there were procedures to follow and regulations
to adhere to, and a summer hearing would be the earliest they could hope for. Or maybe late spring. He leaned forward in his chair and opened his notebook. ‘Now, Mrs Golding, let’s
start at the beginning . . . ’

When Angeline left Havelock & Son later that morning she was able to keep herself together until she was out of sight and sound of the office; she felt she owed it to Jack
to do that. She had cried on him enough over the last day or so. It was strange, but knowing he loved her made this all the more terrifying. She had so much more to lose now, if everything went
against her. Mr Havelock had voiced the fear that plagued her every waking moment: that somehow Oswald would be able to have her locked away again. She kept telling herself it wouldn’t happen
– she had managed to make a new life for herself out of nothing, and had a responsible job and a home of her own. How could someone who was mentally infirm do that? Whatever Oswald said,
surely the court would see the truth when it was under their nose? But thinking about how the law was weighted on the side of the husband kept doubt alive and well.