The Windfell Family Secrets Page 12

Also Atkinson’s finest cotton and calico

  ‘Don’t worry. I can take care of everything; in fact the carter is here now – look.’ Harriet opened the door for Charlotte to leave and the carter to enter. ‘Mind the wet paint, please!’ Harriet shouted at the grubby old man who was pulling back the tarpaulin on his cart.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it, my dear, you are more than capable.’ Charlotte kissed her future daughter-in-law tenderly on her cheek, before making her way gingerly past the carter and the freshly painted doorway.

  ‘Three dead bodies for you, Missus,’ the carter joked as he offloaded the tailor’s dummies and grinned a toothless smile at Charlotte as he passed her.

  ‘It won’t be the first time I’ve been told that,’ Charlotte answered back and then went on her way.

  ‘I hope she didn’t mean that,’ the old man said as he passed the dummies through the doorway to Harriet.

  ‘Let’s just say she hasn’t had the easiest of lives, and she’ll just be thankful that these are only dummies, and not bodies.’ Harriet held out her arms for the rest of her delivery and watched as the old man shook his head. All he was doing was delivering his load, and he wished he’d never joked, now that he’d remembered it was Charlotte Atkinson to whom he’d just delivered. He’d forgotten her tragic past. Why couldn’t he have kept his big mouth shut?

  The mill office was strewn with papers when Charlotte arrived. The files were piled high, in readiness for her visit, and Bert was gazing out of the office window down at the workers below. He was watching as the spinners kept a wary eye on the mules spinning the thread that went back and forward, stopping only when a thread broke, for the piecers to mend the thread quickly, before restarting the huge machine again. Eventually they filled the bobbins with clean white cotton, ready for the doffers to remove and replace with new empty bobbins. The spinners’ job was not an easy one, but they were paid well for their skills.

  Bert was dressed in his usual pair of dark trousers with matching waistcoat, his white shirt crisp and starched, which made him look quite the gentleman, with his silver pocket watch and fob hanging just below his chest for adornment. He ran his hands through his hair and tackled Charlotte with his thoughts as soon as she closed the door behind her.

  ‘Charlotte, we are going to have to doing something about Walter Gibson. He’s forever whinging and whining, and upsetting the workers in the carding room. He just doesn’t have a good word for anyone.’ Bert sat down in the chair across from Charlotte as she looked through the invoices that she was about to pay.

  ‘Is he a good worker?’ She looked up from her pile of paperwork and realized Bert didn’t complain about somebody without just cause.

  ‘That’s just it: he’s one of the best ones we have, but he’s a troublemaker, always finding fault with something or other, and whipping the rest of the workers up so that they constantly query our every move. We can do without his sort working under our roof.’ Bert sighed. He’d had enough of the cocky carder, who was always demanding a better lifestyle and causing bother.

  ‘If he’s a good worker, that’s all that counts. He might voice his opinions, but the rest of the workers won’t take much notice. They know they are looked after better than most mill workers in the district. Tell Sally Oversby to keep a close eye on him; she’ll take no nonsense from him.’

  ‘Walter’s already tackled her this morning, when she brought you in those things she’s made for your shop. Sally caught him telling everyone that she’s in the boss’s pocket, and that you make her inform you about their business, and pay her nothing for the things she makes for you. A “boss’s scab”, I think he called her.’ Bert looked at Charlotte, knowing he’d touched a sore point, bringing Sally into the argument.

  ‘Those accessories are nothing to do with anyone, except Sally and myself. For what it’s worth, she will get paid fair and square for them. A “boss’s scab”, is she? I’ll give him “scab”. I’ll dock his pay by a penny a week, until he learns to toe the line. I don’t usually listen to gossip, but I know it’s not the first time you’ve complained about Walter. Bert, can you bring both Sally and Walter to me immediately? I’ll sort his mouth out, and if he doesn’t like it, he can find employment elsewhere.’ Charlotte stood up and glanced out of the large glass windows that looked down upon the busy working mill. She watched as the mules raced back and forward, with cotton dust and fluff filling the air, the noise of the machinery making conversation only possible by lipreading.

  Bert stood with the door half-ajar, letting the noise into Charlotte’s office. ‘I don’t like causing bother, you know I don’t, but Walter needs pulling up before he goes too far.’

  ‘It’s alright, Bert, I’ll sort it. I’m not having one of my overseers and management undermined by a man who knows nothing.’ Charlotte smiled, reassuring Bert that her intentions were sound, and then went to sit back down in her chair. She felt her stomach churning. She didn’t really enjoy confrontation, but she knew this man had to be reprimanded.

  ‘Mrs Oversby, Mr Bannister informed me that you caught Walter here accusing you of being in cahoots with the management, and said that you were made to inform me about the workers’ private lives.’ Charlotte sat back in her chair and looked at the twisted little man who liked to cause so much trouble.

  ‘I did. I told him – and those who were listening to the rubbish coming out of his mouth – that he was wrong, and that he was only making trouble. I don’t want to know what folk get up to, and I’m sure you’ve better things to do with your life.’ Tall, well-built, blonde-haired Sally looked at Charlotte Atkinson, whom she respected and admired for being such a strong woman and who had always treated her as a near equal.

  ‘And I understand he called you a “boss’s scab”?’ Charlotte looked at Walter and saw him hang his head, hoping that Sally wouldn’t grass on him.

  ‘He did, along with complaining that you weren’t going to pay me for the things I make in my spare time. Not that it’s any of his business what we do.’ Sally looked at the bags and gloves she had brought in that morning, piled up on a table at the back of the office, and waited for Charlotte’s next question.

  ‘You, sir, what have you got to say? It seems you are constantly at loggerheads with your betters. Perhaps you do not need your employment with us? Do you think your wife and five children will appreciate you being without employment, for the sake of that loose mouth of yours?’ Charlotte looked at the small man in his plush velvet waistcoat, with his grey-white shirt tucked into his corduroy trousers, and waited for his reply.

  ‘It was only a bit of banter, ma’am, I didn’t mean it. I need my job, and I’m good at it.’ Walter cupped his hands behind his back and knew he was in trouble.

  ‘It’s always just a bit of banter, Mr Gibson. Last month Mr Bannister reprimanded you for complaining that you’d been underpaid, when your wage was correct; and for telling everyone they would be better off working for anyone other than myself. How about I make your wish come true and let you go for this better-paid job elsewhere?’ Charlotte looked stern.

  ‘Please, ma’am, I didn’t mean it. I know there’s no better place than Ferndale to work. I just come out with rubbish sometimes. I should know better, with another baby on the way. I can’t afford to be out of work.’ Walter looked worried.

  ‘Well, perhaps a penny a week docked from your wage will make you think twice about opening your mouth again. I will not have troublemakers in my mill, Mr Gibson. One more bit of slanderous gossip from your mouth and you will find yourself out of a job and out of a home, as you live in one of my cottages at the locks. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Walter Gibson hung his head; he was going to miss a penny a week out of his wage, especially with a baby on the way.

  ‘Go on, get out of my sight. Mrs Oversby – any more negative comments from Mr Gibson, and you let me know.’ Charlotte watched as they both walked out of her door. Walter was a snivelling little man and she was sure this would pr
obably not be the last time she would be reprimanding him. But for now he needed his job, and she would hate to see his family have to pay the price for his stupidity.

  ‘Where’s everybody at?’ Archie pulled up his chair to the dining table and waited until Thomson had placed his napkin on his knee and served him with his dinner.

  ‘Thomson, you may leave us, once you’ve served Mr Atkinson.’ Charlotte looked across at Archie and waited to answer until after Thomson had left the room.

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Thomson quickly served both his master and mistress and then discreetly left the room.

  ‘That bad, eh?’ Archie looked across at Charlotte and waited. He’d not had a chance to talk to her since his arrival back from Crummock.

  ‘Worse.’ Charlotte poked at her devilled kidneys, chasing them around her plate with her fork.

  ‘So where are they, and who’s causing bother now?’ Archie put his knife and fork down and waited.

  ‘Don’t worry. It isn’t your Danny; he’s just gone to see Harriet up at High Winskill – her parents have asked him for supper. They are eager to get to know him better. I’ve told him to ask them here for dinner, a week on Sunday, as we had better get to know them a little better ourselves.’ Charlotte hesitated.

  ‘And Isabelle, where is she?’ Archie asked, aware that he could see tears welling up in Charlotte’s eyes.

  ‘She’s up in her room. She asked if she could have dinner there, while I tell you what we underwent yesterday evening. She’s frightened you will be angry with her.’

  ‘So, go on: tell me what happened with Isabelle yesterday? Whatever it is, it must be bad, for her not to be able to face me, and for you to look so upset.’ Archie left his dinner and came to sit by his wife’s side as she told him about Isabelle’s promise of marriage to John Sidgwick.

  ‘I’ll go and sort the bastard out – he’ll regret the day he led our lass on behind our backs. And how could she be so stupid, not to see that it was her status and money he was after, not her?’ Archie was angry; he’d never come across John Sidgwick, but he’d heard enough about him for his flesh to crawl, as Charlotte unfolded the story of his offer of betrothal to Isabelle. ‘Thank heavens Lily had the sense to tell you she had seen them together, and that Hector was good enough to come and talk some sense into Isabelle. At least you had time to act, before Sidgwick got to worm his way into the house and confront you in person. What on earth did Isabelle see in him? He’s old enough to be her father and is nearly penniless, if what you tell me is right.’

  ‘If you knew him, you’d know what a charmer Sidgwick can be. And she knew no different than that she was to marry a rich mill owner. He had warned her there would be no love lost for him here, as he would be known by us for being a past friend with Joseph.’ Charlotte looked at Archie as he wrestled with the thought of a man of his age touching Isabelle.

  ‘I’ll go and talk to her. It isn’t right that she’s sitting up in her room, afeared. It isn’t her fault – it’s Sidgwick’s, the dirty, manipulating cad.’ Archie moved from the table and made for the door.

  ‘What about your dinner?’ Charlotte asked.

  ‘Tell Cook to keep it warm for me. I’ve lost my appetite for now. Or she can make me a sandwich later.’ Archie stomped out of the room, and Charlotte watched as he ran up the sweeping stairs to Isabelle’s bedroom.

  She put down her napkin and looked at her half-eaten dinner; she had no appetite, either. The thought of John Sidgwick nearly becoming her son-in-law made her stomach churn.

  ‘Isabelle, my love, stop your crying. It won’t be the first time a young girl’s been fooled by an older man – one who is up to no good. At least you have listened to your elders and have realized what he was about.’ Archie sat beside his stepdaughter and watched as her body shook between sobs.

  ‘I didn’t know him. How could I have been so blind? And I loved him so much. My heart’s broken because of him. I don’t think I’ll ever look at another man,’ Isabelle sobbed. ‘And I could have brought both you and my mother so much worry. How could I have been so stupid?’

  ‘It’s over now, Isabelle, and Sidgwick’s been sent on his way. Just don’t have anything more to do with him. You owe Lily a word of thanks. If it hadn’t have been for her, it could have ended in more tears and heartache for you, if she had not thought of mentioning to your mother your little rendezvous that she witnessed. Sidgwick would have turned you against your mother, with his sloppy words, if she hadn’t thought to get Hector Christie to back her up, before he declared his intentions.’ Charlotte had told Archie that Isabelle would not let Lily attend to her needs, because she blamed the maid for her heartache.

  ‘I can’t look at Lily. I feel such a fool, and she must think I’ve no sense whatsoever. And likewise Thomson and Jethro – they must also think I’m an idiot,’ Isabelle sobbed.

  ‘They have stood by you, Isabelle, and they all understand that you were being led by that despicable man. I’m afraid he will find another victim. And that’s what you were, for he is so desperate to save his mill. Your mother was in a similar situation with your father; she was his victim, and that’s why she knows your pain so well and is downstairs fretting over your well-being.’ Archie looked at the red-eyed girl seated next to him.

  ‘Mama shouldn’t cry over me. It’s just the shame – I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.’ Isabelle raised her head.

  ‘How about you come downstairs, go into the kitchen, where the staff will all be having their dinner at the moment, and thank them for their support. Then you can close the door on John Sidgwick and forget him. They will all understand, believe me.’ Archie took Isabelle’s hand.

  ‘Oh no, I don’t think I could.’ She shook her head.

  ‘Yes, you can. You can’t sit up here, hiding away from the world. Come on: take my hand and let’s do it together.’ Archie pulled her up from the bed and ushered her to the door. ‘Look at them and thank the staff for their help, then hold your head up and get on with your life, else John Sidgwick’s won. Think of what your mother went through; she didn’t hide in her bedroom, and things were ten times worse in her case.’

  Isabelle followed Archie down the stairs towards the kitchen, where she could hear the laughter and talk as the staff enjoyed their dinner together around the kitchen table. She hesitated for a moment just out of view of the staff. ‘I can’t; they will all look at me.’

  ‘Yes, you can. Get it over and done with, and then come and join your mother and me in the drawing room.’ Archie smiled and waited as Isabelle stepped down the last few steps into the kitchen.

  ‘Miss Isabelle, we didn’t expect you down here.’ Ruby Baxter, the cook, pulled back her chair and offered it to her, as the staff stood up and stopped their chattering.

  ‘Please don’t stand up. And I’m sorry I’m interrupting your dinner. I’ve just come down to thank you for your help with John Sidgwick. Especially you, Lily – please don’t think I will hold any grudge against you, for telling my mama. You did right by telling her your concerns. And thank you, Thomson and Jethro, for seeing him off the property, as he could have turned nasty. I’ve been a fool, and I feel stupid for being taken in by such a cad.’ Isabelle turned and looked at Archie, nearly crying now.

  ‘Oh, Miss, you don’t have to thank us and apologize. You are no fool. It was him; he’s known as a devious man. And I know you’ll be hurting, but you are better off without him.’ Lily walked over to Isabelle and touched her arm. ‘We’d do anything for you and the family, and I’m sorry that he has caused so much worry.’

  ‘Thank you, Lily. I’m sorry I was sharp with you in the tea-room.’ Isabelle smiled.

  ‘You call that sharp – you should hear Ruby here, when she’s squaring us all up in her kitchen; now that’s sharp!’ Lily laughed and looked around at the worried faces of all the staff, especially Ruby Baxter as she scowled across at her.

  ‘Nay, sharp was the end of my pitchfork that nearly caught John Sidgwick on his bac
kside, as he got into his gig. Sorry, Miss, but he deserved all he got from me and Thomson, and we’ll do it again if he ever shows his face here once more.’ Jethro looked up from his chair.

  ‘Thank you both. I’ll be always in your debt.’ Isabelle smiled as she wiped away a tear. ‘I’m lucky to have such good friends, because that’s what you all are.’

  Archie put his arm around Isabelle’s shoulders and then winked and mouthed ‘Thank you’ at all his staff as Isabelle made her way back up the stairs and into the drawing room. ‘See, they don’t think any the worse of you. Now, get on with your life. Tomorrow, go into Settle and help Harriet in the shop, because I have a feeling she’s been treated like second best.’

  ‘Poor Harriet. I left her with all the shop to clean, for the sake of him,’ Isabelle confessed as she entered the drawing room, sitting down next to her mother.

  ‘Yes, you need to thank her, but perhaps it’s best you don’t mention John Sidgwick to her. Let’s just keep it in the family.’ Charlotte looked at her red-faced daughter.

  ‘But she is family, Mother,’ Isabelle said.

  ‘Not yet she isn’t, dear, not until they are wed. Besides, we can do without the gossip, if she decides to tell her mother. She’s such a tittle-tattle.’ Charlotte was glad to see her daughter facing her commitments, but didn’t want her to become the talk of Settle.

  ‘Whatever you say, Mother. At least one of us is happy in love.’ Isabelle hoped that her brother was happy with Harriet, and that Danny had put any past loves behind him – unlike her.

  Archie sat on the bed edge and pulled his nightshirt over his head, before climbing into bed next to Charlotte. ‘You know, I thought it got easier once your children grew up, but they seem to be becoming more of a worry at the moment.’

  ‘I know. I don’t even dare to think of the consequences, if Isabelle had married Sidgwick. She had the choice of any of the young men who came to her twenty-first, and then she was foolish enough to fall for his charms.’ Charlotte sighed.