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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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There was a long silence whilst the two men stared at each other. Meg held her breath. Quite calmly, but very firmly, Percy said, ‘No, Theo. I’m sorry, but I no longer think marriage
between Clara and me would work.’

‘You mean – you’re jilting her? My sister is being jilted by a penny-pinching upstart like you?’

Percy did not answer, but continued to meet Theobald’s hostile eyes with a steady gaze. At last he spoke. ‘So,’ he asked slowly, ‘are you going to give me
notice?’

‘I’ve a good mind to . . .’ Theobald began but then, glancing about him, he seemed to think better of it. ‘But this is business. I’m not a man to let private
matters interfere with business. You’ve always been a good tenant, Percy. No, no, we’ll keep business entirely separate.’ Slowly Meg let out the breath she seemed to have been
holding for ages. ‘But,’ Theobald warned, ‘you’ve not heard the last of this. Oh, dear me, no.’

When he had gone, Meg said, ‘I thought he was going to turn you out.’

Percy, his gaze following the portly man down the street, said slowly, ‘No, he’s more got more business acumen than that.’

‘Does – does he own a lot of the shops?’

‘The four shops in this row – the bakery, this one, the ironmonger’s and the greengrocer’s beyond that. And then he owns several other properties about the town. Houses
and cottages mainly. A whole row of them in Mint Street and one or two near the church, including . . .’ He had been about to say more but at that moment the shop bell clanged and one of
Percy’s best customers entered. Percy hurried forward.

‘Good morning, sir, good morning. Your suit’s ready for you. If you’d care to step this way into the workroom . . .’

‘Why don’t you go down to the shop and see Meg yourself?’ Jake suggested to Sarah.

‘Oh no, I couldn’t. If she doesn’t want to see me, then . . .’ She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. ‘Besides, I don’t want to embarrass her. If she’s
well settled in a good job, it’s – it’s better that I keep out of the way.’ Sarah’s voice was forlorn as she murmured, ‘I’d only shame her.’

Jake took Sarah’s thin hand as he declared stoutly, ‘You couldn’t shame anyone. She’s being very silly and unkind and I’m going to tell her so.’

‘Oh no, Jake, you mustn’t. You’re a good, thoughtful boy, but you really mustn’t.’

‘I shall. She should be grateful to have a mother like you. I – I would be.’

Sarah smiled sadly and stroked his hair. ‘No wonder everyone here likes you so much. We all miss you.’

‘Even old man Pendleton? I bet he misses the exercise with his cane.’

Sarah laughed for the first time in months. ‘Oh, Jake, you bad boy. But it’s Miss Pendleton I feel sorry for. She really misses you and weeps when you don’t visit.’

‘She’s the same with all the boys.’

Sarah shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so. You’re special to her.’

‘Well, I was here the longest.’ He grinned, delighting in his own newly found freedom. There was only one thing marring his complete happiness. Meg.

‘Is it true what they say?’ he went on, trying not to think of her.

‘What about?’

‘That the matron had a little boy of her own once.’ His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Even though she was never married.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that, Jake. And I wouldn’t dare to ask. Mr Pendleton is very kind to me, but I wouldn’t like to pry into his private life.’ She leant closer
to Jake and whispered. ‘I asked about his wife once and he snapped my head off and told me never to mention her name again.’

‘Perhaps it’s too painful for him to talk about her.’

‘What happened to her? Did she die?’

Jake wrinkled his brow. ‘That’s what they say, but it happened about the time I was born. They say that’s why Miss Pendleton came here to take her place as the matron.
It’s not usual, you know. A brother and sister being master and matron. It’s usually man and wife, but after his missis died the guardians let Miss Pendleton come.’ He stood up.
‘And talking of her, I’d better go and see her.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t want her in tears ’cos I didn’t see her while I was here.’

Jake was as good as his word. The following day he asked George Smallwood for a little time off during the afternoon to go into the town.

‘Aye, lad. Tek the pony and trap. He could do with an outing and that way –’ the big man laughed – ‘you’ll be back quicker.’

When Jake entered the tailor’s shop, there were three customers and he was obliged to wait to speak to Meg. She was serving two customers at once, running along the counter from one to the
other, whilst on the other side of the shop Percy was unrolling a piece of suiting to show a gentleman.

By the time the place was empty, Jake had been kicking his heels for ten minutes and his irritation with Meg had grown.

‘Hello, young man,’ Percy, the first to be free, greeted him jovially. ‘Come to be measured for a new suit have you?’

‘I’ve come to see Meg,’ Jake replied curtly.

Percy glanced across at the one woman customer left in the shop and saw Meg carefully writing in the customers’ ledger. Most of the townsfolk had accounts at the shop and paid at the end
of each month. ‘I don’t think she’ll be much longer.’

As the woman left, Percy said, ‘Take Jake into the back. You can make us all a nice cup of tea, Meg. I’m parched after all that talking. We’ve been quite busy this afternoon,
haven’t we?’

As soon as the door closed between them and Percy, Jake could contain his anger no longer. ‘Oh, “Meg” now, is it? When’s the wedding set for then?’

Meg glared at him. ‘Don’t be stupid, Jake.’

‘If anyone’s being stupid, it’s you, Meg Kirkland. Why haven’t you been to see your mam? You’re making her so unhappy.’


I’m
making
her
unhappy? What about what she’s done to me? You only seem to think about her. What about me?’

‘You seem to be doing very nicely for yourself. I don’t think you need my help or my sympathy. But she does.’

‘Then you can be her son. Hers and her fancy man’s.’ She thrust her face close to his. ‘Because I’m no longer her daughter.’

Twenty-Eight

‘Meg, are you happy here?’ Percy interrupted her thoughts as they sat together in the cosy front room after a superb Christmas dinner, which Meg had cooked: goose
and all the trimmings followed by plum pudding and mince pies. It had been a quiet day with just the two of them, but a welcome one, for the days and weeks leading up to Christmas had been busy at
the shop. But now, in the quietness of the little house, her work done, Meg couldn’t stop the memories intruding: pictures of the Christmases they’d spent at Middleditch Farm when Mrs
Smallwood had invited the Kirkland family to the farmhouse. Her table had always been laden with all manner of food and, for once, she’d not minded Meg’s friendship with Alice. The
girls had helped her in the kitchen in the morning and then, later in the afternoon, the two families would join in the games that Meg and Alice devised. There had been warmth and laughter, but,
Meg wondered now, had that been when her father had first cast his eye at Alice? And Jake – she hardly dared to think of him. It would be the first Christmas he’d ever known outside the
workhouse. He’d be at the farm with the Smallwoods and Ron’s family.

For a moment an acute longing to be with Jake threatened to overwhelm her. Then she heard Percy’s tentative voice asking her, ‘Are you happy here?’

Meg plastered a bright smile on her face. ‘Of course I am. Who wouldn’t be? Living in a nice little house like this and I love working in the shop. Handling all those lovely
clothes—’

‘You can have anything you want, you know. From the shop. If there’s anything – anything at all—’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean it to sound as if I was asking for anything,’ Meg said hurriedly. ‘Please don’t think I was dropping hints. You’ve given me such a
beautiful shawl as a Christmas gift. It’s far too good for me.’

Percy smiled and shook his head. ‘Nothing’s too good for you, Meg.’ His gaze never left her face. ‘And I would never think – for one moment – that you were
dropping hints. You’re not that sort of girl.’

Meg dropped her gaze and for a moment shame swept through her. How guileless he was. Could he really not see through her schemes?

There was a long pause before he said, ‘Meg—’ and then stopped again.

‘Yes, Percy?’

‘I . . . erm . . . just asked because . . . I . . . erm . . . wondered if our . . . well . . . our arrangement is causing you any embarrassment. I mean, we know that people are talking.
I’m just concerned for your reputation, that’s all.’

Meg put her head on one side and said coyly, ‘And what about your reputation?’

Now Percy laughed. ‘I don’t think mine will suffer too badly, do you? I expect half the men in the town wish they were in my shoes.’

Meg lowered her head to hide her smile, but to Percy the action appeared to be one of modesty. ‘You’re a lovely young woman, Meg, and I wouldn’t want to be the cause of making
matters worse for you. You’ve suffered enough this past year. All I want to do is to take care of you.’

She looked up. ‘You are doing, Percy. You’ve been wonderful, but I’m only sorry that me coming here seems to have caused trouble for you.’

‘Don’t ever think that. I’m – I’m pleased it happened. Pleased you came and – yes – I’m pleased my engagement to Miss Finch is at an end. I saw
her in her true light in her treatment of you.’

Suddenly, he launched himself out of his armchair and fell on his knees in front of her. ‘Oh, Meg, Meg,’ he cried passionately, ‘you must know how I feel about you. How I care
for you. How I – love you!’

‘Oh – oh! I had no idea,’ Meg squeaked and widened her green eyes. She hoped she sounded suitably surprised and with just the right amount of pleasure. But in truth it was
neither sudden nor a surprise. It was what she had planned to happen. ‘Oh, Percy.’ She leant forward and took hold of his hands. ‘Do you – do you really care for
me?’

‘I’ve never felt this way about anyone before in my whole life,’ he said ardently.

Meg couldn’t resist saying saucily, ‘Not even Miss Finch?’

‘Especially not Miss Finch. I know I’m a lot older than you, but – but I just want to look after you. Would you . . . oh, Meg, will you marry me?’

‘Don’t you know I care for you too?’ She was careful not to use the word ‘love’. ‘You’ve been so kind to me, so generous. I’d be honoured to be
your wife.’

Behind the thick spectacles Percy blinked his surprise. ‘You would? Are you sure? Really sure? I mean – I thought – perhaps that young man who comes to the shop.
Jake—’

‘Him!’ Her tone was scathing, trying to blot out the sudden image of Jake beneath the mistletoe at Middleditch Farm. Oh, how she wished—. No, no, she didn’t. She
mustn’t even think of Jake. She was on the verge of getting exactly what she had planned for these last few months. She must not think of Jake – not now. ‘He disapproves of me.
He’s taken my mother’s side. He doesn’t realize how much she’s hurt me.’

Percy, his eyes wet with happiness behind the thick spectacles, patted her hand. ‘You don’t know how happy you’ve made me, my dear. I want everyone in the world to be as happy
as I am at this moment. When we’re married, Meg, your mother can come here. She won’t have to stay with Isaac Pendleton. She can live with us. Would that make you happy?’

Now Meg’s tears of gratitude were genuine and she felt a surge of guilt, suddenly ashamed of her scheming. ‘Oh, Percy, thank you. Thank you.’ She flung her arms about his neck
and kissed his cheek. In that moment she silently vowed that she would be a good wife to this kind and generous man. She could trust Percy Rodwell not to hurt her. He would take care of her. It was
all she wanted, she told herself as she closed her eyes and buried deep inside her any feelings she had ever had for Jake Bosley.

Jake burst into the master’s room without even knocking. He stood in the doorway, panting. It was New Year’s Day and he had run all the way from the farm, rage and
frustration spurring him on.

From her place on the sofa in front of the fire, Sarah looked up, and Isaac rose from behind his desk.

‘What’s this? What’s this? Bursting in here without a by your leave? Is the place on fire, boy?’

Gasping, Jake’s glance went beyond the master and found Sarah’s startled gaze. ‘She’s only going to marry him, that’s what!’ he blurted out.

Sarah’s mouth dropped open and she fell back against the cushions, her hand to her chest as if, suddenly, she found it difficult to breathe.

‘Who? What?’ Mesmerized, Isaac glanced round at Sarah and then back to Jake. ‘Who are you talking about, boy?’

‘Meg! She’s going to marry Percy Rodwell.’

‘Meg is? But – but he’s engaged to Miss Finch.’

‘He broke it off. Weeks – months – ago. And now . . .’ His voice broke and he was unable to carry on.

Isaac leant on the desk towards Jake, resting on his knuckles. ‘You mean to tell me,’ he said slowly, frowning heavily, ‘that Percy Rodwell broke off his engagement to Miss
Finch in order to marry Meg?’

Jake nodded, his own expression as grim as the older man’s.

Isaac sank down into his chair again and leant back, his hands clasped in front of his ample stomach. ‘Well, well,’ he said as he recovered from the surprise. ‘All I can say is
that he’ll rue the day he married that little slut instead of Miss Finch, who is a fine woman of some standing in this town. And let me tell you, boy –’ Now he wagged his
forefinger at Jake as if he were somehow responsible – ‘her brother, Mr Theobald Finch, will not stand by and see his sister slighted in such a way. Oh, dear me, no. Mr Percy Rodwell
had better watch out, that’s all I can say.’

Behind him, Sarah wept silently into her handkerchief.

The banns were read in the local church on the first three Sundays in May. Because Meg was under the age of consent, the vicar had sought Sarah’s permission. She was
reluctant to give it, but believing it was what her daughter wanted, she signed the form. Percy and Meg were to be married early in the morning on the last Friday of the month. The wedding was only
three days away when Meg put on her best hat and coat and walked up the road towards the workhouse.

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