Emma (23 page)

‘You take it with you,’ she said. ‘I know I can trust you. Besides, I may not be here much longer.’

‘Not here?’ I was surprised. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m thinking of selling up.’

‘You’re not! Please don’t do that. I should miss coming here. It wouldn’t be the same without you, Mrs Henty.’

‘I might not have a choice,’ she said. ‘My landlord wants to sell the premises, and I haven’t got the five hundred pounds he’s asking. It would probably be more if I didn’t have a clause in my lease … but it might as well be thousands.’

‘Five hundred pounds …’ I looked round the showroom. It was small and crowded with rails and glass cabinets, but I knew she did a reasonable trade. ‘It doesn’t sound outrageous. And you live over the top, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ She sighed and looked worried. ‘That’s what makes it so awkward. I suppose I shall have to move – but I don’t want to borrow from the bank.’

‘Supposing I lent you the money?’ I spoke impulsively, without considering. ‘You could pay me back so much a month, couldn’t you?’

‘I could pay you five pounds a month – which is what I’ve been paying in rent.’ She looked at me hesitantly. ‘Or we could be partners, Emma. I’d carry on the same as always, but instead of paying you back, we’d share the profits.’

The idea appealed to me. My money would be safer in property. Richard had already hinted that I should ask Mr Smythe to release it – and I knew what would happen then.

‘How much would that be?’

‘It depends – from ten to fifteen pounds a month perhaps,’ she said, looking excited. ‘It brings in less at the moment, allowing for expenditure – but there would be no rent to pay.’

I could have earned almost as much by renting the shop back to her, but it would be a steady income and I thought I would enjoy helping to choose the new stock.

‘You tell your landlord you want to buy,’ I said. ‘I’ll speak to Mr Smythe and make the money available.’

‘Are you sure you can manage it, Emma?’ She looked excited and anxious all at the same time.

‘Father left me nearly four hundred pounds,’ I told her. ‘And I’ve saved another hundred and thirty.’ She looked so surprised that I laughed. ‘Not from my wages!’

‘I shan’t ask, Emma. Where the money came from is your business.’ She was folding the smock, putting it into a bag. ‘Take this as a present, with my love. It will seal the bargain between us.’

‘Thank you,’ I said and kissed her. ‘You do realize that this has to be a secret between us?’

‘Yes, of course. I understand you wouldn’t want everyone to know.’

‘Richard would be furious,’ I said. ‘Keep the property in your name, Mrs Henty. We’ll have something put in writing at the lawyers’.’

‘It might be best that way,’ she agreed. ‘And call me Madge, Emma – seeing as we’re partners now.’

After leaving her, I went straight to Mr Smythe’s office. He was on the point of leaving for the night, but was good enough to see me at once. And, after I’d told him what I wanted, expressed his agreement.

‘We’ll make it an interest-free loan against the property,’ he said. ‘That way it would revert to you if Mrs Henty were to die.’

‘She isn’t going to die,’ I said, ‘but do whatever you think best.’

‘Do you want me to arrange a bank loan for the extra money?’

‘No. I have a hundred and thirty pounds in the Post Office. I’ll get it out as soon as I can.’

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. I made arrangements for an appointment the following week, then hurried home. Ben would be wanting to get off for his tea, and I had to look after the shop.

I was excited at the idea of being Mrs Henty’s partner. The money I received each month would make me independent of Richard and the shop. He could drink away Father’s stock if he liked.

As yet, I’d had no luck in my search for Father’s secret hoard. Perhaps it didn’t exist. I intended to go on looking, but at least the money I already had would be safe out of my husband’s reach.

It was the end of February. I was very close to my time now and feeling desperately tired. Richard still wouldn’t agree to my employing another assistant, so my mother had started to take my place for two hours in the afternoons. To my surprise, she seemed to enjoy it.

‘We need some more of those special cigars,’ she told me that afternoon when I went down after my rest. ‘Someone asked for them – and Fry’s dark chocolate. We’re down to our last bar.’

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ I said, sighing wearily, ‘but Richard takes the money out every night. He only allows me two pounds in change – and your housekeeping money, Mum.’

‘If he keeps on at this rate, the trade will suffer,’ she said. ‘And what are we going to do then, Emma?’

I had told her about the partnership with Mrs Henty. She had been surprised and a little shocked when I explained that the extra money had come mostly from Jonathan Reece. I knew she thought I ought not to have taken it, but I didn’t see why I shouldn’t. Paul owed me something. If it hadn’t been for him, I would never have married Richard and the shop would now have belonged to Mother and me.

‘We’ll manage,’ I said. I raised my eyes to hers. ‘Maybe Richard will come to his senses when he realizes what is happening to the profits. We can’t sell what we haven’t got. And if he doesn’t—’ I shrugged.

She frowned but didn’t say any more. As she went out, I picked up an evening newspaper, scanning the lead stories. The government had recently announced they were intending to spend several million pounds on defence, and the journalist was talking about people making air raid shelters in their own back gardens.

Surely it wouldn’t really be necessary? I knew about the troubles in Germany – the way the Jews were being driven from their homes – but all that seemed so far away. I couldn’t believe that there would really be a war.

I replaced the newspaper in the rack as the bell went and a customer entered. My breath caught in my throat as I saw who it was.

‘Jon!’ I cried, surprised and pleased that he had come. Then I blushed as I realized I’d used his first name. ‘Mr Reece, I mean.’

‘Right the first time,’ he said, eyes going over me anxiously. ‘I’m Jon to you, Emma. Should you still be working?’

‘I’m fine, really. Just a bit tired sometimes …’ I hesitated. ‘You got my letter? You know my father died last year?’

‘Yes, I know, Emma. I’m sorry I didn’t reply. I’ve been busy at Chambers. And my uncle’s estate took some sorting out – there were a lot of debts and documents missing. My aunt has been very upset. I’ve had to spend time with her. We have just managed to find a buyer for the house, that’s why I am in Cambridgeshire.’

‘Oh … does that mean Mrs Greenslade will be moving away?’

‘She is going to live in Devon with her sister. That house was far too large for her – and Paul doesn’t seem to think he’ll be coming back to this country.’

‘I see.’ I realized with a shock that I hadn’t thought of Paul for ages. ‘So you won’t be coming this way again?’

‘Oh, I might have business down here occasionally.’ He glanced round the shop, eyes narrowing as he noticed empty spaces on the shelves. ‘Are you managing, Emma? You’ve been getting the money I sent you all right?’

‘Yes. It has been a great help to me.’ I explained about the investment I’d made. ‘I really don’t need the fifty pounds anymore.’

‘It’s yours by right,’ he said, and took an envelope from his inside pocket. ‘I’m going to be away for a while, Emma – so I’ve brought this today.’

I could tell the envelope contained money, and was embarrassed.

‘Really, you shouldn’t—’

‘I want you to have it.’

I saw the expression in his eyes and blushed. ‘Are you quite sure?’

‘Perfectly sure.’

‘Then thank you.’ I slipped the envelope into my pocket. ‘You have been so kind all this time, looking after me. I had no right to expect anything from you, Jon.’

‘Paul owes it to you,’ he said and smiled at me. ‘Besides, I care what happens to you. You know I would always help if things get too bad.’

‘Yes, I know.’ I could feel a lump in my throat, and tears stung my eyes. ‘Thank you. I—’

Ben came in from the back room. Jonathan looked at him, asked for a paper, paid and went out. I wanted to call him back. I wished that we could have gone on talking … that I wasn’t tied to the shop and my husband. But I might as well have wished for the moon.

‘Can you manage for a while, Ben? I need to go upstairs.’

‘Course I can,’ he said, and eyed me strangely. ‘Ain’t I seen that toff before?’

‘Mr Reece has been in the shop before,’ I replied. ‘He is a lawyer from London, Ben.’

‘Not much of a looker, is he?’

‘He is quite attractive,’ I replied, ‘and very kind. I like him so you need not be rude about him.’

‘Sorry, Emma. Only asking.’

‘I’ll be down again in a few minutes, Ben.’

I was anxious to go upstairs and put away the money that had just been given me. Richard was on the early shift and he might be home soon. I didn’t want him to see it or he would want to know where it had come from.

I opened the top drawer of my dressing table and reached for the old toffee tin at the back. At the moment it contained two pounds and my Post Office book. I had two shillings and sixpence left in it. I’d thought of closing it, but hadn’t got around to it. Now, I would be able to deposit some of the money Jon had given me.

I counted the notes, feeling shocked when I realized he had given me an extra ten pounds this time. How had he persuaded Paul to do that? I sat staring at the money, puzzling over it, and then I suddenly understood. I realized what I should have known from the beginning – it wasn’t Paul’s money. Any of it. Jon had been paying me fifty pounds a quarter out of his own pocket!

How much did a junior partner earn in a London law firm? It couldn’t be that much, surely? I felt guilty. I would have to repay him somehow.

‘Where did you get that?’ Richard’s voice startled me. I jumped and snatched the money up as he made a grab for it.

‘It’s mine – nothing to do with you.’

His fingers encircled my wrist, gripping it so hard that I was forced to drop the money and my savings book. He picked the book up, giving a snort of disbelief as he saw I had withdrawn a large sum some weeks earlier.

‘Where did this come from – and what did you do with it?’

‘I – it was some of the money Father left me,’ I lied, hoping he wouldn’t look at the dates it had been deposited. But he was only interested in the withdrawal and what I had done with the money. ‘I needed it to pay some bills after he died.’

‘If you’re lying to me, Emma—’ He swore and made a fist at me. ‘You said the profits were down because we’re low on certain stock. If I find out that you’ve been helping yourself …’

‘You can see the account books any time you like,’ I said. ‘And we do need more stock. Look at the shelves – they’re half empty.’ I gasped as he thrust the money into his pocket. ‘That’s my money. I need it – I need things for the baby.’

I caught at his arm. He thrust me away, hitting me with the back of his hand.

‘Please, Richard! I have to feed and clothe myself and the baby.’

‘As far as I’m concerned the brat would be better dead.’ He glared at me, then put his hand in his pocket and withdrew three pounds. ‘That’s all you’re getting – and if I find out you were lying, I’ll make you sorry.’

I picked up the money, furious with myself for letting him catch me unawares.

‘I hate you, Richard Gillows!’

I was shocked by my own words. How had it got this bad? At the start I had really felt we stood a chance, but little by little he had killed any feeling there was for him in me, and now I was close to hating him.

‘Do you now?’ he grabbed hold of me, dragging me from the edge of the bed into a standing position. ‘Well, maybe I’ll give you something to really hate me for one day.’ Then he shoved me away so that I stumbled against the dressing chest.

I cried out as the pain whipped through me, clutching at my belly. ‘Don’t hit me again,’ I begged. ‘It’s the baby. I think I’m starting it. You’ve brought it on too soon.’

‘Let’s hope it dies,’ he said and turned away with a snarl on his lips. ‘You too for all I care!’

I sat on the edge of the bed, doubling up with pain as he went out. It hurt so much – and it was too soon.

It hurt so much that I didn’t turn my head as Mother came in. She was across the room in seconds, sitting on the bed beside me, her arm about my waist.

‘That devil!’ she muttered. ‘He hurt you. We’ll go, Emma. It doesn’t matter about this place. We’ll go now, before he kills you.’

‘Not tonight,’ I gasped, and turned towards her. ‘It’s coming, Mum. My baby is coming …’

‘You should have told me he’d actually hit you before this,’ Gran said when she visited me the next day. My beautiful new-born son was lying in the cot beside me, waving his tiny fist at her. ‘I’ll set Richard straight, Emma. He won’t hit you again, I promise you that.’

‘You don’t know him,’ I said. I looked at her anxiously. I could see a difference in her. She looked older, more fragile somehow. ‘He might hurt you. Please don’t risk it, Gran.’

‘I’ll not let him make your life a misery. Just let him wait until I see him. I’ll make his insides turn to water.’

‘Do you want to hold James?’ I asked, trying to turn the subject. ‘I was afraid he might be harmed but the doctor says he’s fine – perfectly healthy. He is beautiful, isn’t he?’

‘Aye, he’s that all right,’ Gran said. She turned her head as we heard the sound of Richard’s voice in the other room. Her expression was grim, determined. ‘I’ll be back in a moment, Emma.’

‘Gran – please don’t—’

It was no use, she wasn’t listening. I glanced at my son as he lay peacefully in his cot. His birth had cost me several hours of pain and anguish, and I had feared for his life, because I knew Richard’s brutality had made me go into labour two weeks early.

The loud voices from the next room startled me.

‘You don’t frighten me, you old hag!’

‘Don’t you dare speak to my mother like that!’

‘I’ll teach you—’

I froze in horror as I heard the argument going on in the parlour. Why hadn’t Gran listened to me? She didn’t realize that Richard wasn’t like my father. He had no respect for anyone he could knock down with his fists, and would not care about hurting her.