An Indelicate Situation (The Weymouth Trilogy) (30 page)

Perhaps it was the rain that
had
awoke
n
her from her initial, almost dream
-
like state. Perhaps it was the fresh sea air that
had
caressed her face and set her mind to work once again. Whatever it was, Maggie
had
gradually bec
o
me aware that she was wa
ndering
down East Street, looking
at the rubbish in the roadway
,
not having the slightest thought in her head,
and with a sick feeling which so gripped her stomach that she
had
thought
that
she
should
straightway
faint with the pain
.

She had soon realised that t
he
automatic
nature of her
activities
so far
, and the sick feeling which
quickly followed them
,
were
the
physical
manifestation of total
fear.
A fear that she had never felt before, unbridled
and utterly
intense. Fear for her future. Fear that Mrs Wright might renege on
t
he
i
r agreement and seek to indict her anyway. Fear that she had but a couple of shillings upon her
,
Mrs William, quite naturally, having omitted to pay her fo
r any of the eight months of
employment
that she had completed so far
,
and that these two shillings would have to serve as her only means of gaining sustenance until she could find some way of earning her
self some more
. Fear of where she might end up if she should fail to acquire a respectable occupation within the very short timescale that she knew was available to her. She
had
realised that she was more frightened at this very minute – more frightened as she trod the busy streets of Weymouth in the middle of
market
day, with normal people cheerfully going about their normal business all around her – she was more frightened at th
at
very m
oment
than ever
she had been frightened in her life
.

Maggie’s breath
had been
coming in short, panicky bursts. This would never do. She
had realised that she
would have to get a grip on herself in order to take some rational decisions. Things were bad – things looked bleak – but surely
all
had
not yet
been
lost? Other people – other women – must surely have faced such situations before. What did one do when one suddenly became homeless, and without employment? Maggie
had
forced herself to think
. One sought some shelter, looked at one’s assets, and planned.

So, first for some shelter. Maggie
had
sniffed
at herself
in disdain. Was she not standing in the middle of Weymouth? And was Weymouth not a
seaside
town, with accommodation aimed at visitors of
very limited means
as well as
at
the very rich?
Finding accommodation should be the least of her worries.
It should be quite straightforward to find some.

By the time she had thought of this s
he had wandered along to Maiden Street and she
had soon
found herself in a narrow passageway which led through to St Mary Street and the
small
church
square
beyond
. Looking about her she
had
spotted an ill
-
written notice of
‘
rooms to let
’
in one of the house windows
in the passage
. Maggie
had taken
a deep breath as she
had
hesitated outside. It was not a grand building – not a grand building at all, but with the current parl
ous state of her finances this w
ould
surely be
a
very
good thing. Maiden Street was respectable enough – certainly respectable enough for a young lady with scarcely a penny to her name. She had to get something and this was no time to be nice. So she
had taken
another deep breath,
had
rapped on the door, which
had
swung open of its own accord, and
been faced with
a steep set of stairs, which she
had
immediately
forced
herself
to
climb.

So here she was, the agreement reached, her shillings already gone in rent, her trunk retrieved, sitting in the dingy room which was now her home, looking despairingly at her possessions and feeling very low. Until now
her mind had been so occupied
by practicalities that she had scarcely given a thought to anything other than survival. But now that she had secured a roof over her head and had her own things with her – things that she knew she could sell as she needed to – she found that she had leisure enough to think about her fate.
And her thoughts were by no means pleasant ones.
What would Mrs Staveley think when she heard that she had gone? What would Mrs William actually say to her? That it had been she – Maggie – her so
-
called friend
-
who had stolen her bits of jewellery
and tried to steal five pounds
? And would Mrs Staveley believe it, and feel betrayed
-
believe that yes, indeed, it had been the governess – the stranger in the household - who had stolen all her things? For all Maggie knew she might certainly do so. What possible reason would she have not to do so, when her own niece was telling her that it was true?
And
–
and – and
well,
she had to acknowledge the question that was uppermost in her mind, the question that, above all others, was nagging away at her, robbing her of any ability to put her fate into perspective
whatsoever
– and
what
would
Mr
Staveley
think
? What would he think when he returned to find her gone
?
Dear, kind, thoughtful Mr Staveley.
Mr Staveley whom she loved so dearly it would be more than her
life was worth
for him to think her a thief
.
Mr Staveley who had plenty of pro
blems of his own. Would he really
consider
her a thief? Would he hate her and spurn her like the others?
Was that likely? She really couldn’t say. After all, although Mr Staveley appeared to be a fair minded man, a man who would not just accept Mrs William’s accusation and instantly cast her aside - even though she knew this of him she also knew that he had been fully aware of her indelicate flirtation with Mr Wright – known of this and been concerned about this to such an extent that he himself had thought it necessary to warn her about it, to hint that it would not do. He did not know that she had heeded his warning. For all he knew she may have totally ignored it – resented it, even – and allowed Mr Wright the freedoms which it was perfectly evident he had so desperately wanted. Mr Wright had visited her at night. His wife was well aware of it and had reached her own conclusion. Perhaps Mrs William would tell Freddy about it? What would he think of her then? After all, Freddy was not in love with her as she was in love with him – or, if he was, he certainly hadn’t recognised it yet. Maggie herself had seen him only as a friend until that sudden realisation that he had grown so much more important to her than that. There was no reason at all for her to suppose that Mr Staveley either felt – or was aware of – such a fondness for her in return. For all she knew, he might still have hopes of Miss Brewer.
So t
he questions were uncomfortable ones. Of all the people whose good opinion she most valued, most treasured, Mr Staveley was surely at the top of her list
– no, not at the top of her list – he
was on a list of his own, a list of his own up there amongst the heavens
. And as she thought of this and re
membered
just what Mr Staveley had
be
come to her she became aware
that,
of a
ll the hardships that her sudden expulsion from Grosvenor Place
was
going to entail for her, they were as nothing compared to the possibil
ity that she might lose
the opportunity of gaining his
affection
for ever.

Mrs John was not
too
long in tracking Maggie down. She had a wide acquaintance in Weymouth and the fact that a young lady had called for a trunk at the Post Office, where it had been left for a day while she secured lodgings for herself, was soon transmitted to the house on Hig
h Street and onward
up the hill to
Belvoir
. So within two days of her flight from Grosvenor Place Maggie
had the totally unexpected – and
mortifying
ly
embarrassing
– experience of welcoming Mrs Berkeley and Mrs John to her small
, dingy
and distinctly smelly new room at the rear of Maiden Street
,
and of having to invite them inside
. Maggie had already raided the trunk and pawned a couple of silk handkerchiefs to tide her over and she had been sitting on the floor examining the remaining contents somewhat ruefully, calculating their likely value and estimating the length of time
over which
they
might
be able to maintain
her
and wishing for the hundredth time that she had Freddy there to support her,
when the ladies had knocked softly on her door.

Maggie, indeed, felt
totally discomfited and humiliated when she opened
the door to find her former employer’s relations in the hallway –
discomfited
, as she was a little uncertain as to the nature of their business with her (and feared – perhaps unreasonably – that they might have come to arrest her) and
humiliated
at the shabby and unkempt appearance of the room into which she was now obliged to show them.

‘I am so sorry,’ she was saying. ‘I have only the one chair – but please be seated if you
can
. I regret that this apartment is not quite what you are
both
used to.’

Oddly, and totally u
nexpectedly, both ladies looked at
each other
as she said this
and then
burst into fits of uninhibited and seemingly uncontrollable
giggles which quite startled
and confused
her. She wondered
, not for the first time,
whether this was not all just a horrible dream
and that she was not really there in a dingy
room off
Maiden Street at all
.
If indeed it were not a dream – if, indeed,
Mrs Berkeley and Mrs John
really
were
standing there in her dirty little room, looking about them, giggling for all they were worth – well, should she not be feeling more than a little aggrieved and angry with them for laughing at her fate?

‘Oh, I do beg your pardon, Miss Owens.’ Mrs John was the first to recover
, coughing a little
. ‘We are perfectly aware of the serious situation
in which
you find yourself. We do not mean to demean it in any way. It is just that – well – it is all so odd, in a way. It is just that you have ended up in exactly the same room as
the one that
Mrs Berkeley rented after she was thrown out of
her home at
Sandsford House.
You must know, of course, that Mr Brewer had purchased the property so that her husband could pay off his debts, and effectively threw her out with nowhere better to go, and no money to call her own. It appears that the poor little room is serving the self same purpose once again. It is most strange.
You lived here for a good two months, did you not, Kathryn
?
-
until you finally agreed to stay with me once Andrew had
freed himself of Miss Brewer and asked you to marry him instead.’

‘I did indeed.’ Kathryn had now managed to control her giggles
, at least in part
. ‘And it was
also this very room that my dear a
unt rented
when
Giles had thrown
her
out
of the house the
previous
year
. It smelled bad even in those days and the curtains look exactly as they did then. I have to say – it hasn’t changed a bit.’