Mistress of Greyladies (7 page)

His expression grew ugly. ‘You’ll get used to that, too. Women do, once they’re broken in.’

‘No, I won’t. I’m
not
marrying you.’

‘You’d better, because if you
don’t
agree to marry me, you won’t be able to find a job in Swindon at all. I’ve worked hard to make useful connections in the town, and that includes the police. I shan’t hesitate to make things uncomfortable for you.’

She could only gape at him.

He gave her a nasty smirk of a smile. ‘When I want something, Phoebe, I find a way to get it. Always.’

He was so confident of himself, she began to get seriously worried. He didn’t really have the power to stop her getting a job, did he? Then she looked at his face and shivered at how confident he looked. ‘If I can’t get a job in Swindon, I’ll go elsewhere. I am
not
going to marry you, Frank.’

He was on his feet now, facing her. ‘You will, you know. I’ll be a good provider, you won’t find better. But you’ll have to learn to obey me, Phoebe. A man is master in his own home.’

‘You can be as masterful as you like, but it’s not going to be with me. Now, leave me alone.’ She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her and dragged her back.

‘I reckon I’d better make you mine now, then you’ll
have
to marry me.’ He pulled her into the shadows and began grinding his face against hers in a rough kiss, running his hands over her body, pinching and nipping.

She began to fight back in earnest, trying all the tricks she’d heard of for dealing with cheeky fellows and yelling for help. But Frank was so big and much stronger than her,
she felt like a butterfly caught by a big cat. He put one big meaty hand over her mouth to stop her calling for help.

Suddenly the grip on her eased and Frank cried out in shock.

It took her a minute to realise what was going on. The man who’d been sitting on a nearby bench had grabbed Frank and pulled him off her.

Frank swung his fist, but the man dodged the blow and clipped Frank on the side of the head.

Phoebe was afraid someone was going to get hurt and shouted, ‘Stop it! Stop it now!’

But Frank had an ugly look on his face and he punched the fellow in the chest. Only, once again, his opponent dodged the full force of the blow.

Running footsteps made her turn round to see a policeman coming across the garden to join them. ‘Oh, thank goodness!’

‘What’s going on here?’

‘This fellow attacked me for no reason,’ Frank said at once.

Phoebe gasped at this lie. ‘He did not. It was you who attacked me and this man came to my aid.’

‘Don’t tell lies, Phoebe, just because we quarrelled. We’re walking out, Officer, and she got upset with me.’

‘How are you—’

The policeman held up one hand and said, ‘Quiet, please. Now, miss. Do you know this man?’ He indicated Frank.

‘Yes. He’s my cousin’s stepson. But I’m
not
walking out with him. He wants to but I won’t. He grabbed hold of me and started pawing me. I was trying to get away and calling for help, and this man kindly came to my rescue.’ She turned to the stranger. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

‘I don’t like to see men forcing themselves on women.’

Frank glared at him. ‘I wasn’t forcing her. It was just a lovers’ quarrel. Mind your own bloody business or you’ll regret it.’

The policeman got in between them. ‘Now, sir. Calm down, if you please. She’ll come round.’

‘
I will not come round!
’ Phoebe shouted at the top of her voice. ‘Leave me alone, Frank Hapton. I’m going back to my lodgings to get a good night’s sleep and I don’t ever want to see you or speak to you again.’

Into the silence, the stranger said quietly, in an educated voice, ‘Shall I walk you back, miss? Perhaps you can calm this fellow down, Officer.’

Frank jerked forward, but the policeman was almost as big and much more muscular. ‘I think you’ve done enough for tonight, sir. Leave her to calm down and talk to her more gently tomorrow. You won’t get anywhere by forcing a woman.’

The look Frank gave her, the way he bunched his hands into fists, made her feel afraid of what he’d do next, but he breathed deeply and let his hands fall. ‘You’re right, Officer.’

The policeman looked at Phoebe. ‘You go straight to your lodgings, miss. We don’t want any more trouble.’

As if she’d started this, she thought indignantly. She turned and walked away. The stranger fell in beside her.

‘My name’s Corin McMinty. I’ve been visiting relatives and I’m catching the last train to London. I’ll walk back with you, but I promise you that you’ll be quite safe with me.’

She believed him, liked his quiet voice with its educated tone. Though he had an Irish name, there was no sign of an Irish accent. ‘I’m Phoebe Sinclair and I’m
not
walking out with Frank.’

‘He seems pretty determined to marry you.’

She sighed. ‘Yes. I don’t know what to do about it. He won’t take no for an answer and he knows a lot of people in Swindon, so he says he can stop me finding a job. He only decided to marry me recently.’

‘Is there a particular reason for that, apart from the fact that you’re very pretty?’

She glanced sideways, but he wasn’t looking at her in that way, hadn’t even spoken as if he was offering her a compliment, only stating a fact. ‘I inherited some things he wants to get hold of. And he thinks I’ll be useful to him as a wife because I speak nicely and look presentable.’

‘Some people do marry for those reasons.’

‘Not if they dislike the other person.’

‘No. Definitely not.’ After a few more steps, he asked quietly, ‘Have you thought of leaving Swindon and going to live somewhere else? If that fellow can’t find you, you can get on with your life in peace.’

They’d reached a corner and instead of crossing the road she stopped, her thoughts in a tangle and only one thing clear. ‘I didn’t want to leave Swindon. Even though I don’t have any close family now, everyone I know is here. But I think you’re right. I’ll have to go.’

‘How are you going to get away? A man as determined as that might try to stop you.’

Mr McMinty was very perceptive. They said an outsider could sometimes see more than the person in the thick of things. ‘Yes. He will definitely try to stop me leaving. What on earth am I going to do?’

‘Why don’t you leave tonight? I doubt he’ll be expecting that.’

The words seemed to echo around her, making so much sense. ‘That might do it. But where would I go?’

‘There’s a train to London leaving just after midnight. I’m catching it, actually. Why don’t you take that?’

‘I’ve never even been to London. I wouldn’t know where to go. And is it easy to get work there?’

‘Actually, there’s a hostel for young women quite near the station. My aunt and some of her friends run it specially for girls new from the country. They’ll take you in, whatever the time of day, and they’re very respectable, I promise. You’d be quite safe with them.’

She studied his face. She believed him, trusted him, was surprised that fate was suddenly helping her, instead of seeming against her.

‘Do you need to get your luggage from the hotel first?’ He glanced up at a clock outside a shop. ‘We’ll have to hurry, though.’

‘I don’t need to go back to the hotel at all. I left my bag at the station. I was going to pick it up after I’d eaten my sandwich.’

‘We’d better keep our eyes open for that fellow as we walk to the station.’

‘I know a back way through some alleys.’

Even so, when they came out of the alley, she saw Frank standing down the road, watching her hotel.

‘Let me put my arm round you.’

Mr McMinty did so and as they hurried into the station, she nestled against him, praying she was hidden from view.

She moved to one side as soon as they were out of sight of the street. ‘Can you buy my ticket for me, Mr McMinty? I’ve got the money but I don’t want to be seen.’

‘Yes. And give me your left-luggage ticket. I’ll get that for you, too. Wait for me over there, behind that trolley full of boxes.’

She didn’t relax till they were on the train, then realised they were sitting in first class. ‘How much was my fare?’

‘Let me pay for you. I’m not short of money. I have a sister about your age. I’d not like to think of her on her own in the world. You keep what money you have.’

She hesitated, then nodded. ‘Thank you. I’ll accept it as a loan. But you must tell me where you live and I’ll pay you back once I’m settled in a job.’

‘It’s my pleasure to help you.’ He laughed. ‘And I don’t know where I’ll be living. I’m in the army and I’ve been summoned back to join my regiment tomorrow.’

‘I’d still rather pay you back.’

‘You can write to me care of my aunt. Let her know where you’ll be. Perhaps I’ll catch up with you again when I come back to London. I have a feeling that helping you will bring me luck, keep me safe.’

What a strange thing to say! But if he wanted to believe that, she’d not stop him. It must be hard for men, having to face battles and death, or having to kill others. If the war went on for too long, so many young men would be killed.

She couldn’t believe nations like Britain and Germany, with all their well-educated statesmen, wouldn’t find a way to compromise once they’d had a few months of war. This was the twentieth century, not the Dark Ages.

Phoebe woke with a start as someone shook her gently. She sat up, her heart pounding in panic when she didn’t recognise her surroundings. For a moment or two, the person she had been cuddled against seemed a complete stranger, then everything that had happened slipped into place.

‘You fell asleep,’ he said. ‘I didn’t like to disturb you.’ He eased his arm from behind her, moving it about as if it was stiff.

She was horrified. ‘I’m so sorry. You should have woken me, Mr McMinty.’

‘Why? I fell asleep too. And I thought we’d agreed to call each other by our first names.’

She could feel herself blushing. They were the only occupants of the compartment, cocooned in the intimacy of a poorly lit railway carriage rattling along through the tunnels of darkness. She’d felt so comfortable with him, they’d chatted like old friends, exchanging information about their families and sharing their thoughts about the world.

She’d been surprised to find that Corin was a career
soldier, stationed in London, an officer, of course. His name meant ‘spear’, which seemed appropriate, because for all his gentleness, he had an air of command. They hadn’t spoken of the war, however, because he’d guided the conversation away from that subject every time, as if he didn’t want to focus on it.

Well, she didn’t want to think about it, either.

Now, in the grey light of morning, she felt confused, worried that she might have revealed too much about herself. But Corin was smiling so warmly at her, she couldn’t have offended him, so she settled back against the seat and relaxed again.

‘I woke a few times in the night,’ he said, ‘and each time it was because we were stopping at places not on the usual schedule. I suppose that’s because of the war. The train will get into London much later than usual, which will be more convenient for you. I woke you because I recognised the last station we passed through. We’re nearly there now, about ten minutes away from Paddington, unless we stop again. Do you want to go and tidy yourself up?’

She nodded and made her way along the corridor of the train to the lavatory, which was much nicer than the ones in third class. She stared at herself in the mirror, horrified to see how tumbled her hair was, how her cheeks were still flushed with sleep.

She worked quickly, knowing he would need to use the facilities, too, and by the time she got back to the compartment, she was tidy again.

He greeted her with, ‘You looked prettier with your hair down.’ Then he chuckled. ‘You do blush easily. Aren’t you used to compliments?’

‘No.’

‘You will be. I’m sure you’ll have young men queuing up to squire you around London.’

She didn’t know what to say to that. She’d never had the time or opportunity to flirt and joke. At first she’d been too busy looking after her mother to fuss about her own appearance, then she’d been too busy learning about curtain making and cleaning the shop every evening.

‘My turn.’ He got up and strode off down the corridor.

He had a long, lean body and walked easily, as if he was fit and comfortable with himself. She liked to watch him move. She’d never met a man like him. But kind as he was, she didn’t like owing anyone money, so she would pay him back once she was settled. At the moment, with the unknown problems of London to face, she didn’t like to spend a halfpenny more than she had to. She wanted to keep something to fall back on, just in case she couldn’t find a job for a while.

It seemed a long time before Corin came back, but it was only a few minutes. He smelt of soap and had combed his hair neatly into place, but he needed a shave. He sat opposite her this time and she missed having him by her side.

How silly she was getting! She’d probably never see him again after today.

‘Soon be there. You’ll like my aunt Beaty. She’s a jolly old stick.’

‘I hope she can help me find a job.’

‘If anyone can, it’s her. Look, we’re just coming into Paddington station. It looks strange with hardly anyone around, when it’s usually so busy. Like a ghost station. My aunt won’t be awake yet. Let’s have something to eat at a
cafe I know. We’ll take a taxi because it’s about half a mile away from the station and we’ve both got heavy bags.’

They threaded their way through the milk churns that the porters were unloading from the train. Most of the other passengers were men and Phoebe seemed to be the only woman from the first-class carriages. People looked tired and no one was chatting. There was only the sound of footsteps and the metallic clank of milk churns banging against one another as they were hauled off the train and rolled to one side.

Corin let a porter take their luggage, though he could have carried it easily. He saw Phoebe’s surprise at this and whispered, ‘He looks as if he needs the tip.’

The porter found them a motor taxi and when Corin slipped him a coin, beamed and said, ‘Thank you
very
much, sir.’

She thought that was very kind. It must be nice to be able to help people. Then she realised she was one of the people Corin was helping. She usually managed on her own, but this time she’d needed it.

The taxi took them to an elegant cafe with a sign saying
Lamb’s
, the sort of place she’d never have dared go into on her own. ‘Are cafes usually open at this hour in London?’

‘This one is. It prides itself that it never closes, night or day.’

An older man approached them. ‘Good morning, Captain McMinty.’

‘Hello, Gus. This is Miss Sinclair, a friend of mine. Phoebe, this is Gus Lamb, who owns the cafe. Table for two, please, then a nice big breakfast. We’re going to visit my aunt Beaty but she won’t be awake yet and I’m ravenous.’

‘How is Her Ladyship?’

Phoebe blinked in shock.
Her Ladyship?

When the waiter had taken their coats and shown them to a table, Corin turned to her with a rueful smile. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I can’t help it if my aunt married a lord.
I
wasn’t born into the nobility. Nor was she, come to that.’

No, but he was obviously from a family with money. He had that air, and tossed tips to people as if they meant nothing to him. ‘I’ve never even spoken to a member of the nobility.’

‘Well, don’t start bowing and scraping to my aunt. She hates that.’ He grinned. ‘Look, Beaty was an actress, which our family didn’t approve of. She was doing quite well, destined for fame and fortune, then she met Podge and that was it. Love at first sight. She was his second wife and he was much older than her, but they were very happy together.’

‘My mother said it was the same with my father. Love at first sight. But
she
married beneath her and her parents were furious, wouldn’t have anything to do with her after that.’

‘You didn’t think of asking their help?’

‘No. They never replied to her letters, not even after I was born, though she wrote to them every year. They’re dead now. Dad was a miner, you see. He hated it, but it was the only work available when he was growing up. He was killed in an accident underground.’

‘I’m sorry you lost your father so horribly. At least your parents had some happy years together. I like to hear about people falling in love. So many married people I’ve met seem indifferent to one another, or worse, like that fellow in Swindon who wanted you even though you didn’t like him.’

The food arrived, so much of it that Phoebe was sure half of it would be wasted, but seeing Corin eat like a starving man made her feel suddenly hungry too.

As a waiter cleared the table, Corin looked at his watch. ‘We could make a move now. It’s six o’clock. Someone will be up at the hostel.’

‘Does your aunt live there?’

‘She does at the moment. When Podge died last year, he left her well provided for, with a life tenancy of his family’s dower house in the country. But she doesn’t get on with Lester, the son from Podge’s first marriage who inherited the estate, so she lives in London most of the time. She keeps a maid at the dower house, though, and most of her possessions. Sometimes she sends sickly young women there for a holiday. Lester hates that. He’s a dreadful snob.’

Corin paid for the meal before she could stop him and she didn’t like to make a fuss. Picking up Phoebe’s bag as well as his own, he led the way out of the cafe, letting the waiter hail another taxi for them.

She envied him the ease of accepting help from people and the way he didn’t need to count his pennies. But when he wasn’t chatting to her, he sometimes looked faintly unhappy, as if he had troubles of his own.

Something to do with the war, perhaps, if he was a career soldier.

What else could it be?

The hostel was a tall house in a quiet street near Paddington station, close enough for them to catch a glimpse as they drove to it of the work being done to build what Corin told her would be a fourth train shed for the station, which already seemed huge to her.

‘The London stations are getting busier every year, so they’re expanding,’ he explained.

She nodded but felt too nervous to chat as they stood waiting for someone to open the front door. She was glad when he didn’t seem to expect an answer.

What if Corin’s aunt turned her away? Where would she go then? How would she survive in this huge city which made her feel such a timid country mouse?

The door was opened by an older woman with iron-grey hair, drawn back into a severe bun. She was wearing
no-nonsense
modern clothes with the more practical shorter skirts.

‘Master Corin!’ she exclaimed. ‘Captain McMinty, I should say.’

‘Hello, Ruth. I prefer you calling me Master Corin. Makes me feel young again.’ He gestured towards Phoebe. ‘I’ve brought you a young woman who’s in need of help. She’s homeless, escaping from a bully and knows no one in London. Phoebe, this is my aunt’s housekeeper and, dare I say it, her dearest friend.’

‘It isn’t right to call me Her Ladyship’s friend.’

‘Even if it’s the truth?’

Ruth gave him a tight smile and stopped arguing, turning her attention back to the stranger.

He didn’t speak again until Ruth had studied Phoebe carefully and nodded. It was as if she’d passed some sort of test, though of what, she wasn’t sure.

‘Come inside properly, miss. No need to hover by the door as if you’re going to run away.’

Corin grinned at this. ‘Is my aunt up yet, Ruth?’

‘Of course I am,’ a low, musical voice called from the first landing. ‘Dear boy! How lovely to see you.’

He ran up the stairs and gave her a big hug.

Phoebe watched them enviously.

Then he looked down and gestured towards her. ‘I’ve found you another young woman in need of help. Come and meet Phoebe.’

His aunt seemed to drift down the stairs, looking elegant, even at this early hour. Her hair was silver, though her face was youthful. Phoebe’s mother had gone white at a young age, due to her red hair, she’d always said. Though she hadn’t been a real redhead, just ‘foxy-coloured’ as they’d joked, unlike her daughter’s rich auburn colour.

Phoebe had a sudden stab of desperate longing for her mother. Just one more chat, one more piece of advice … one more hug. She realised his aunt had said something. ‘Oh, sorry. I missed that. I’m a bit tired.’

‘I said, we’ll have a cup of tea and you can tell me all about what brought you to London, Miss Sinclair.’

‘Call her Phoebe. I do,’ Corin said.

Her Ladyship raised one eyebrow as if to ask her visitor whether that was all right and Phoebe nodded, appreciating the courtesy.

He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. ‘I’m afraid I have to report to the War Office at nine o’clock, so I can’t stay long.’

A shadow of sadness passed across his aunt’s face. ‘This horrible war. It’s got its claws into you already. Promise you’ll stay safe, my lovely boy.’

He raised her hand to his lips, a theatrical gesture that seemed natural with his elegant aunt. ‘I’ll do my best.’

They stared at one another for a few moments, then Her Ladyship said, ‘This way, dear.’

Phoebe followed them into a small, cluttered sitting room
at the rear of the hall. Tea was brought in by Ruth within minutes, by which time Corin had explained to his aunt how he and Phoebe had met.

‘I’d be very grateful if you could help me, Your Ladyship,’ Phoebe said when he’d finished. ‘I’ll try to find a job quickly and not be a nuisance.’

‘Oh, I’ll help you find a job, but we won’t rush into any old job. I like to place all my girls carefully in jobs where they’ll be happy, so I need to get to know them first. People can get lost in a big city. I’ve never forgotten how scared I was when I first started in a London show. I had to fight for my virtue more than once.’

Phoebe stared to hear her say that so frankly.

Her Ladyship’s voice softened. ‘I do understand what it’s like. But please don’t “ladyship” me. Call me Beaty. It’s my name, after all.’

‘I can’t call you by your first name!’

Beaty grinned. ‘I won’t answer unless you do. I don’t use Lady Potherington, either, now. I only put up with it for my husband’s sake. Well, who would want to be called such a stupid-sounding surname? Look at the nickname my darling got from it. Podge! Of all the ridiculous names. He wasn’t at all podgy.
I
always called him Reggie. So … I’m Beaty now, eh?’

‘Well, all right … Beaty.’

‘Good. Now, you must both be hungry.’

Corin shook his head. ‘I took her to Lamb’s.’

‘What a treat! They do the fluffiest omelettes in town.’

He drained his cup of tea and stood up. ‘I’ve got to go, I’m afraid. I need to shave and change before I report in. Phoebe, don’t forget your promise to keep in touch. Aunt Beaty, don’t lose sight of her.’

‘I’ll see you out, dear.’

He and his aunt disappeared into the hall, and their voices were too low to make out what they were saying. Not that Phoebe would have tried to eavesdrop.

She leant back in her chair, feeling tired, but as Corin had said, she did feel safe here. And welcome, too. She had been very lucky to meet him.

In the hall, Corin said abruptly, ‘Look. I have to tell you, Phoebe interests me. I want to get to know her better. There’s something about her that I—’ He broke off and shrugged.