Read House of Angels Online

Authors: Freda Lightfoot

House of Angels (24 page)

Livia put her arms around her, and Mercy allowed herself to be hugged. She went through the motions of making friends, even if deep down she struggled to believe this tale that Livia had spun.

Not only was Josiah making plans with Henry, but as extra insurance in his efforts to bring his daughter to heel, he sent round one of his rent collectors to issue an eviction notice.

It stated that Josiah wanted the Flint family out by the end of the month, claiming they’d missed too many payments. Jack explained to Livia that this was untrue, that he’d argued with the rent collector on this point, even fetching out the rent book to prove that, difficult though it had been at times, they’d always met their obligations. But for some inexplicable reason the Flint family rent book did not match the entries in the ledger the rent collector carried, and their word alone was considered untrustworthy.

‘He’s accused us of altering the entries in the book, which is outrageous! And if we refuse to budge, then Mr Angel will evict every tenant in the entire building, and bulldoze the lot to the ground. Says he’s had enough.’

Jack believed the man to be perfectly capable of doing
such a despicable act. He was not to know that Josiah would not be able to carry out this threat any time soon, as he had financial troubles of his own. He simply couldn’t afford to hire the necessary machinery, let alone replace the building with anything else at present. The threat sounded real enough, and none of them had any reason to doubt his word.

Livia was furious. She knew that her father would enjoy seeing her friends run like rats from a terrier. How dare he threaten them in this way! He still seemed to imagine that he could control other people’s lives exactly as he pleased. She was the one he wanted to punish, the one he was angry with, for refusing to obey his every whim and marry Henry as he’d decreed. Now he was taking revenge for that bit of rebellion on her part by destroying Jessie and her family.

She was already trying not to be a nuisance by eating as little as possible of their precious food, and doing her bit with the knitting, but life was hard. If only they could find alternative accommodation, and a cheaper supply of raw wool. Then they could perhaps knit something more saleable than the traditional thick stockings and gloves. And sell to someone other than mean Henry.

Livia wondered if she could persuade Miss Caraway to take a few knitted motoring scarves, or perhaps thick warm sweaters and woolly hats to sell to walkers in the sports department; that wouldn’t necessarily be sufficient to earn the Flint family a decent living, but it would be a start. They could surely find other shops interested in their goods, perhaps in towns such as Keswick or
Ambleside? People needed warm sweaters in this county, didn’t they?

She began to feel almost optimistic. Maybe it would work if she could but lay her hands on a supply of wool at a reasonable cost, and perhaps a couple of the
new-fangled
hand-knitting machines. Would Henry lend her the money to do that? she wondered. Could they set up some sort of co-operative?

Livia felt she could put the evil moment off no longer, but first she must tackle her father.

Following Maggie’s death, she’d sworn never to speak to him again. Yet Livia knew that there really was no alternative but for her to swallow her pride and confront him. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach, but she had to make him withdraw this eviction notice. Mercy was right. They couldn’t allow him to get away with his bullying any longer. It was long past time she stood up to him. Livia thought of all the other times she’d tried to do so in the past, and failed bitterly. Why would it be any different now, things being as they were between them? Yet for the sake of them all, she surely must try.

 

The first sight of her father shocked Livia to the core. He had aged in this past year more than she would have thought possible. Surely he wasn’t suffering from guilt? No, more likely an excess of indulgence. He’d put on weight and looked less well groomed than usual, positively unkempt. There were food stains on his silk cravat, his hair looked in need of a trim and he’d grown a beard. His eyes appeared bloodshot and more askew
than ever, and he stank of whisky and stale cigars. But then he no longer had loyal servants or daughters around to see that he ate sensibly and wore clean clothes.

There was a new maid, Peggy, and he waited until she’d poured two glasses of sweet sherry, bobbed a curtsey and departed.

Livia glanced about her at the familiar room where she and her sisters had spent so many evenings, her gaze going at once to Maggie’s chair. Her eyes filled with tears, which never seemed far away these days. How she longed to see her beloved sister still sitting there, sweetly smiling as she worked at her sewing, her pink flannel petticoats for the poor. How could she be gone? How could she be dead? The familiar rage swelled in her breast, firing up the hatred Livia felt for their father. It was all his fault. He drove Maggie to do that terrible thing.

‘So you’ve come home at last,’ was his opening remark.

Livia took the glass he offered, straightened her spine, and resolved to come straight to the point. ‘No, Father, I have not come home, nor ever will. I’ve come to take issue with you about this eviction notice. It is completely unfair. The Flint family have never missed a single payment, have gone without food on their table rather than miss paying rent due. I know why you have chosen to persecute them. It’s really me you wish to punish, me you are angry with. But if you have a modicum of compassion, think of the children of the family. You have no quarrel with them.’

He pulled a walnut from his pocket and cracked it in his palm, as she’d seen him do many times before, then quietly sipped his sherry while he considered her. ‘I take it you’re still not ready to obey your father then, as a good daughter should.’

Livia almost snorted her disdain and set down her glass with a snap, untouched. ‘Nor ever will be. Don’t think you can bully me any longer, Father. I’m free of your tyranny now. I’m my own person and refuse to be intimidated. I only beg you, please do not involve my friends in this vendetta you’re conducting.’

‘All they need do is earn more money, then they’ll have no trouble in paying the increased rent.’

‘But it’s an entirely unreasonable sum. Quite impossible, a fortune for what is nothing more than a hovel. They’ve barely enough money to survive as it is, let alone pay more in rent. Henry, too, seems intent on taking out his disappointment over my rejection of his proposal by exploiting the innocent. He’s cut the payments he makes to them for finished work down to a penurious level. Does the silly man have no idea of the problems he is causing these people by his callous disregard of their rights to a decent living? I shall have something to say to Henry about that next time I see him.’

‘Why don’t you tell him now? I sent the stable lad for him when I saw you arriving on your trusty bicycle.’ And before Livia had time to protest, or point out that nothing had yet been agreed between them about the rent or the threatened eviction, Henry himself was in the room and
her father was softly closing the door as he departed.

‘I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, then you can talk in private.’

 

Livia stood frozen to the spot. This was the last thing she’d expected. To face up to her father had been difficult enough, to cope with them both at once was almost more than her nerves could stand. And she hadn’t even broached the subject of Maggie’s death yet.

Jumbled thoughts raced through her head. It seemed highly convenient that Henry should be nearby to come running the instant he was called. Had her father planned this? She’d assumed that he’d issued the eviction notice in order to punish her, but had he simply wanted to lure her here? Livia was beginning to feel that she might have been duped, which made her very angry indeed. And if Henry thought he could persuade her into a change of heart over his proposal, he was very much mistaken.

But was it possible for her to induce him to pay more for the finished work he purchased? She admitted doubts on that score, since the business he did with the knitters of Fellside was diminishing by the day.

Henry was thinking that this visit was going nicely to plan. He pecked a kiss upon each cheek, relishing the prospect of more later. ‘Livia, what a lovely surprise. You were the last person I was expecting to see today. What can I do for you? Is there some particular reason for your visit, or is this simply a social call? The latter I hope,’ he burbled, his mind racing over possibilities.

‘I came to see Father on a particular matter.’

‘Of course, and, I hope, to inform me that you’re willing to reconsider my offer for you and I to…’ He left the sentence unfinished with a slight upward curl to those full moist lips, in the hope she might pick up the thread without his actually needing to.

This was the last thing Livia needed, and she instantly set about quashing any dreams Henry might nurture on a possible union between them. ‘I don’t want you to be under any misconceptions. I’m afraid I haven’t changed my mind. I simply don’t see you as a potential husband, Henry dear.’

His mouth visibly tightened and Henry thrust his hands behind his back, clasping them in a tight fury of disappointment. ‘I see, well, I appreciate your frankness.’

Livia detected an icy coolness creeping into his tone but decided not to trouble herself over it. She had other, rather more important issues on her mind. She was determined there must be some way she could help her friends to earn an honest living, and if that meant she must beg favours of Henry, as well as her father, then it was a price she was prepared to pay.

Oh, but it was really quite preposterous, considering how wealthy the Angel family was supposed to be, the size of this house for a start, not to mention the land and property her father owned, that she had no money of her own. Not a penny. If she had, then she would use it to set the Flint family up in business on their own account. But she had nothing and was obliged to swallow her pride and make the best of it; otherwise she, together with the
entire Flint family, would be the ones in the workhouse, not just Mercy.

She settled herself in her favourite chair, striving to be calm, and began by describing her concern for the residents of Fellside, explaining that many of them had no other employment but the knitting and weaving, and were in dire straits.

Henry looked unmoved. ‘I fear the world is changing, Lavinia. We cannot halt progress.’

‘I do realise that,’ Livia agreed, quite sharply. ‘Nevertheless, it seems to me that since there must still be a market for knitted goods, albeit a changing one, a fair price should at least be paid for their labours. They’ve done so much for me, nursing me when I was out of my head… I don’t wish to go into all of that, but I want to help them. They deserve better.’

Henry’s smile had become stiff and forced. He strolled over to take up his usual stand on the hearthrug before the blazing fire, almost as if he owned the place. ‘I can see that you have become rather tied up with the petty concerns of these people. Of course, we both know that there really is no need for you to be living on Fellside at all.’ He looked at her as if she lived in a whorehouse. ‘If there is some reason you don’t yet wish to return here to Angel House, you could come and stay at my house. It would be perfectly proper since Mother could act as chaperone.’

‘Henry, I thought we’d just agreed—’

‘I don’t mean as my fiancée, although I would still welcome you in that capacity, were you to experience
a change of heart. I meant as a friend. You would be much more comfortable there than living in such grim conditions, at least until you felt able to return home.’

‘I have no intention of ever returning home, so you can put that idea right out of your head.’ Livia clasped and unclasped her hands with growing impatience. ‘Henry, I really have no wish to engage in an argument with you. The point is, you pay only sixpence for an item that might take all day to knit. I’d like to ask you, to beg you, to increase your payments. A shilling, at least, would be a much more appropriate price.’

He raised his eyebrows in alarm. ‘A shilling! I think not. My own costs have risen exponentially. Do you appreciate the time and trouble involved in delivering and collecting the wool, and selling those hand-knitted stockings? My factory can knit thousands in a week, instead of the pitiful quantity a hand-knitter can supply. It’s a specialised market now.’

‘Is it indeed? And to hell with the needs of the people, is that it? Let them starve, eh?’

His expression turned sour as he dropped all show of politeness. ‘They can always seek employment in one of the woollen factories in town, although I confess I have no openings at present in my own.’

Livia took a breath. ‘I did think of encouraging my friends to start their own business, knitting sweaters and scarves and so on. I don’t suppose you would consider making me a loan to set that in motion, would you?’

‘No, I don’t suppose I would.’

There was a frigid silence for the length of one
heartbeat. ‘Well then, now
I
must thank
you
for being so frank. I’m sorry to have troubled you.’ Livia rose from her chair and walked to the door. Henry made as if to follow her, but she put up a hand to stop him. ‘Please don’t disturb yourself. I believe I know the way out of my own home. Stay and finish your whisky.’

‘Livia, for goodness sake, don’t dash off in a huff just because I refuse to help with your cock-eyed scheme.’

‘Cock-eyed?’ She whirled around to face him, all social niceties gone, temper bright in her eyes. ‘That’s not how
I
see it.’ Then turning on her heel she marched out into the hall.

‘Wait, I need to talk to you. I miss you. You’re still the only girl for me. I still want to marry you, Livvy. And I may yet agree to assist with this foolish…this new enterprise of yours.’

She paused. ‘On what terms?’

‘Obviously I’d see the matter in an entirely different light if you were to accept my offer of marriage. A wife is generally permitted one or two pet charities to occupy her.’

Livia looked at him with open contempt. ‘Blackmail, is it now, Henry? Please explain to my father that I had to leave. Good day to you both.’

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