Anna Jacobs (5 page)

“I can find my own way.” But she stopped him opening the door, looking at him very sternly. “I expect everything I’ve said to you today to be treated in the strictest confidence, as is my legal right. And if it isn’t, I shall take steps . . . ”

He turned red and puffed out his plump cheeks. “Believe me, I’ve no intention of revealing your foolishness to anyone, Miss Fleming, let alone upsetting your father by revealing your disloyalty to him.”

She knew what that meant. He didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Ernest Fleming. She’d hoped a man of his status wouldn’t be afraid of her father, but he clearly was. What had Fleming done to inspire such fear?

She went into the tea room and ordered a pot, sitting thoughtfully over it as she considered her problem. She wasn’t going to give in, but she had to have a lawyer to help her. Surely there was someone in Tinsley who wasn’t afraid of Fleming? Yes, she’d heard her father mention one scornfully from time to time. What was his name? Oh, it was on the tip of her tongue. Why could she not remember it? And how was she to find him without revealing what she was doing?

When she left the tea room, she turned into a side street that she rarely used. It led down to the river and she thought she’d have a stroll along by the water, because it was quite a fine day for the time of year. She couldn’t bear to go home yet, especially since she’d failed to do what she’d come out for.

She’d passed the sign before it occurred to her that this might be a place to start seeking help. She turned and went back to stare at a huge piece of yellowing card which covered most of the shop window, saying in large purple letters WSPC. Bows of mauve and green ribbon, somewhat faded, adorned each corner.

She glanced up and down the street before entering, because it could be disastrous for her plans if anyone who knew her father saw her getting involved with the Women’s Social and Political Union. They would certainly tell him about that and the mere idea of votes for women was heresy, as far as he was concerned.

Her heart was thumping with nervousness as she stood just inside the doorway, but the three women sitting chatting around a low table covered in papers looked nothing like the unnatural harridans her father insisted
those women
were.

The oldest of them had greying hair, a lined face and a vividly alive expression. She stood up and came towards the newcomer with a friendly smile. “First visit to our den of iniquity, is it?”

Serena tried to summon up an answering smile but was too worried. “Yes. I—um—need some information and was hoping someone here might be able to help me.” She hesitated, glancing across to the other two, not wanting to reveal her business in so public a place.

The woman studied her, head on one side, then said quietly, “Come upstairs, my dear. We can talk privately there.”

Serena followed her up some narrow, twisting stairs, whose bare wood creaked under their feet. The front room at the top was small and furnished as an office, with a big sofa at one end.

When they were sitting down on this, her companion said, “I’m Evadne Blair.”

“Serena Fleming.”

The other woman looked surprised for a moment, clearly recognising the name, but didn’t comment. “It’s obvious you don’t want to waste time with small talk, Miss Fleming, so tell me immediately what your problem is. If you need help and I can give it, it’ll be my pleasure. If we women can’t support one another, it’s a sad state of affairs.”

When Serena had finished explaining, Evadne gave her another of those warm, conspiratorial smiles. “It isn’t easy to rebel with a father like yours, is it?”

“No. No, it isn’t.”

“I do know a lawyer who might help you, but he’s not a polite sort of man.”

“I don’t care if he’s the rudest man on earth as long as he can help me take back control of my inheritance from my father. Without it, there’s no way I can be independent.”

Evadne stood up. “I have a cousin who’s a lawyer, Justin Redway.”

“That’s the name I’ve been trying to remember. I’ve heard my father mention him once or twice.”

The other woman chuckled. “He won’t have been saying anything complimentary then. Look, there’s no time like the present. Why don’t I take you round to meet him?”

“Thank you.” Serena followed her outside, greatly relieved.

Redway’s rooms proved to be much shabbier than those of the other lawyer Serena had visited, being merely the ground floor of a large terraced house in the next narrow thoroughfare, which was called Bridge Lane. Judging by the row of brass signs outside, it was used as a place of business by several other people as well, but the ground floor was separate and seemed to be occupied wholly by Mr Redway. The clerk occupying the room nearest the street was elderly, his clothes shabby, his expression shrewd. He led them through to the rearmost office, which looked out on to a small back garden.

Evadne walked forward, hand extended. “Well, Cousin Justin, I’ve brought Miss Fleming to see you. She needs some legal help.”

Redway looked at her in surprised. “Fleming?”

Evadne nodded. “Let her explain. She’s trying to rebel.”

“Ah. Well, I’m very much in favour of rebellion against tyrants,” he said with a smile, gesturing to a chair.

Serena liked him at once. His clothes might be shabby and his shirt collar crumpled above a carelessly knotted tie, but like his cousin’s, his face had the glow of good health and confidence, and also kindness. Once gain she explained her situation.

“I have to warn you that your father hates even the sight of me.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because he’s a bad landlord and doesn’t do repairs if he can help it. I’ve acted on behalf of his tenants from time to time.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. All she knew of her father’s business interests was what she’d heard at dinner parties or overheard at home, because he didn’t believe in discussing such things with the female members of his family.

“I have to ask if you’re sure you want to go through with this, Miss Fleming? It won’t be easy for you. Your father has a reputation for being hard on those who cross him.”

“I believe it’s my only chance of happiness, though I hope to leave home before he finds out what I’m doing.”

“How can you refuse a plea like that, Justin?” Evadne said lightly.

“I can’t. Tell me about your inheritance, Miss Fleming. Of what does it consist?”

She could feel her cheeks growing warm and was embarrassed to admit, “I’m not exactly sure. An annuity and a few other bits and pieces. That’s what my father always called them, but when I asked for details he said I’d no need to know and wouldn’t understand financial matters anyway.”

Her cheeks grew even hotter. “At the time it would have done no good to press for an explanation. He’d have grown angry and taken it out on my mother, who was an invalid. Anyway, I could do nothing about the inheritance until I was thirty, so it would have been pointless to insist.”

He looked at her black clothing. “And now your mother’s dead.”

It wasn’t a question. Well, everyone in town must know that Ernest Fleming’s wife had died. It had been a very ostentatious funeral.

“Have you actually turned thirty?”

“Yesterday. He forgot it was my birthday, but when he remembers, I’m sure he’ll want me to sign papers that allow him to continue handling things, so I feel I have to get away quickly.”

Justin’s grin was that of a street urchin about to steal an apple. “Well, if you’re sure you have the courage to go through with this, I’ll take great pleasure in helping you escape, Miss Fleming.”

Serena sagged back in her chair in relief. She liked Mr Redway and felt better not to have to face her father without support. “Thank you so much. I’ve been making plans and now I must find somewhere else to live. I suppose I can book into a hotel, but I need somewhere to send my trunks and boxes and there’s no one I can trust. Can you suggest anywhere? I’m sure my father will make it difficult for me to retrieve any of my possessions from home once I leave, so I thought I’d send them away before he finds out what I’m doing. I’ll say I’m disposing of my mother’s things but send mine away instead.”

“You can send them here, if you like. They can sit in the middle room which only contains a few layers of dust because I never did find myself a partner.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am.”

Serena should have felt happy as she made her way home, because she’d solved two of her immediate problems, but she was too filled with apprehension. What if someone had seen her today going into Justin Redway’s rooms? What if things went wrong before she got away?

What would her father do when she left?
Something dreadful, she was sure.

She wasn’t used to acting on her own, might make mistakes—no,
would
make mistakes. But she mustn’t let the fear of that stop her. Her whole life’s happiness was at stake here.

* * * *

When his new client had left, Justin cocked one eyebrow at Evadne. “Poor downtrodden thing. She must have had a hell of a life with
him.
Think she’ll hold firm?”

“We can but give her the chance. Thanks for agreeing to help, Justin.”

“You know how I love to tweak that fellow’s tail.”

“Yes. And one day he’ll pay you back for it.”

“He’ll have to catch me first.”

“Well, it’s a good sign that she’s planning carefully ahead, finding a lawyer, getting her clothes out of the house, don’t you think?”

He grimaced. “If the rest of her clothes are as unflattering as that hideous tent of a garment she was wearing today, she’d be better throwing them away and buying new ones.”

“Maybe I can help her with that later.”

“My dear cousin, you can’t help the whole world.”

“I can try to help the female half of it, though.”

* * * *

The next morning Serena’s father said over breakfast. “You should have reminded me about your birthday.”

“You seemed busy. And you know I don’t care for a fuss being made.”

“I’m always busy, but the money your aunt left you comes into your own hands when you’re thirty. It’s only a modest legacy but you’ll still need me to manage it for you. I’ll have the necessary papers drawn up by my lawyer. You can come to my office the day after tomorrow to sign them.”

She said nothing, merely inclining her head. As she poured his second cup of tea, she said casually, “If it’s all right with you, Father, I’ll send mother’s clothes to a charity for governesses who’ve fallen on hard times. I’ve found some old trunks and boxes that we don’t use. There’s nothing of hers you want to keep, is there?”

“What? Oh yes, do see to that for me. Excellent idea. You’re too plump to wear any of her things, that’s for sure.” He looked at her with disfavour.

She lowered her eyes and forced herself to eat, though the food tasted like cardboard. She was living in a permanent state of apprehension and would until she got away from Tinsley, as far away as she could manage, somewhere he wouldn’t be able to find her.

* * * *

In her bedroom later that morning Serena looked at the trunks and boxes which she and her mother’s maid, now working as a housemaid, had carried down from the attic after her father had gone to work. She’d told Ruby these were for her mother’s clothes, which had also been brought into her room, to the maid’s surprise.

“Do you think we’ll need all these boxes, miss?”

“I was thinking of getting rid of some of my own old clothes at the same time. Would you like something of my mother’s to remember her by? You’re near enough her size.”

Ruby gaped at her, then stared at the clothes longingly. “Are you sure, miss?”

“Yes, of course. You can choose what you want, but you’ll have to take them away today, because my father wants me to send the rest to a charity at once.”

Ruby chose two of the simpler gowns. “You’re sure the master doesn’t mind me having them, miss? I don’t want to upset him.”

They both knew that Ernest would definitely not approve of a maid wearing his dead wife’s clothes.

“What he doesn’t know won’t upset him,” Serena said lightly. “Maybe Cook will give you an hour off to take these things home. Tell her I said it’s all right. You might like to alter them a little, though—the trimming, the frills and so on—just to make sure no one recognises them.” She knew Ruby was shrewd enough to understand what she was getting at.

“Yes, miss. And thank you.”

Serena watched the maid bundle up her new possessions, glad to have made someone happy. Well, Ruby had been a tower of strength during her mother’s long years of illness and deserved some reward for that. “I’ll ring when I need you. I find this upsetting and would rather be on my own as I do it.”

She locked her bedroom door and went quickly through her mother’s clothes, setting aside a few garments which might perhaps suit her if they were altered then hanging the rest in her wardrobe. As she packed her own clothes in the trunks, she grimaced at how dull a collection they were. Only her underclothing was pretty, a small vanity. Well, these clothes would have to do until she had time and money to buy new ones or could alter some of them. She also packed her favourite books, trinkets and a few mementoes.

When the carrier arrived late that afternoon, Serena dealt with him herself. He wasn’t the man her father normally used but someone she had seen in the street. She’d stopped him to book his services. She doubted any of the servants would even remember his name because it wasn’t written on the side of his cart.

After paying him, she stood watching at the front door, heedless of the cold, as he drove off along Cavendish Terrace then turned down the hill to leave the boxes in Mr Redway’s rooms. It was silly, really, but she kept thinking something would happen to stop her getting her things away.

She looked up at the grey sky and took a deep breath of fresh air before she closed the door. It tasted of freedom, unlike the house which was always stuffy because
he
didn’t like draughts.

She didn’t sleep at all well that night.

Could she do it? Did she dare? Would he find out and stop her?