Copper Kingdom (39 page)

The old man had not been very well and had been confined to bed for the last few days. Sterling felt quite concerned about the older man, who had been a close friend of his father, Ronnie being of a similar age to Arthur Richardson. And only yesterday Sterling had heard his mother say she had taken a basket of delicacies to try to tempt the invalid into eating a little.

He drew the Ascot to a halt and even from the large house near the Strand he could smell the hot steamy odour of the laundry. He supposed it was natural for Ronnie to want to live near his business premises, it was very convenient for him, but give Sterling the fresh air of the western hills any day.

The maid opened the door and recognising him stepped back. ‘Come in sir, I'll tell Mr Waddington you're here.'

Ronnie was looking decidedly pale and there were huge dark circles under his eyes, but his smile was cheerful enough.

‘Come in Sterling my lad, you've just caught me.' He indicated a chair and gestured for the maid to bring in another cup.

‘I've been back to the office today, can't take too much time off you know, put too much of a strain on young Mali Llewelyn and since her father's accident, she's been looking under the weather herself.'

He paused and looked up at Sterling from under bushy brows. ‘How is Davie coming along?' He did not wait for a reply but hurried on. ‘It's a dismal situation and from what Mali tells me her father has lost the will to live. Do you know yet how the accident occurred?'

Sterling took the tea the maid offered him and smiled grimly. ‘I've got a very good idea.' He stirred sugar into the hot liquid, seeing not the tea but Will Owens' cocky face. There was no proof to be had of course because no one knew what had really happened.

The story was that Davie had stumbled backwards, tipping Will Owens' ladle over, but in view of the known bitterness between the two men, it did not seem at all likely.

‘How's business?' Sterling deftly changed the subject and Ronnie Waddington shook his head, frowning. ‘Not too good, though Mali has proved herself invaluable in many ways and has made my position much clearer. I still need to make a great many improvements if the laundry is to survive.'

He rose to his feet. ‘Talking of which, I suppose it's time I was getting back, I've had quite a long lunchtime as it is.'

There was a sudden ringing at the doorbell and Ronnie shrugged impatiently. ‘Who is this now?' He smiled ruefully. ‘I tell you, my boy, it's very tiring being in a sickbed and I'm thankful to be out of it, the visitors you get are no one's business.'

The maid ushered a girl into the room and she stood in the doorway with the odour of the laundry emanating from her clothing.

‘Yes, Sally, what is it?' Ronnie adjusted his glasses and stared at the girl whose close-set eyes were taking in every detail of the room.

‘Big Mary sent me, sir.' She bobbed a curtsey. ‘It's them papers they wanted in the office, I'm to ask you can I have them.'

‘Just a minute, I'll go and get them. I'm glad Mary thought of reminding me, I'd quite forgotten all about them.'

Sterling rose to his feet. ‘I'll be away then, Ronnie,' he said affably, ‘glad to see you on your feet again.'

He was tinkering with the Ascot when the girl came out of the house. She stood staring at him for a moment and at last he looked up at her questioningly. He had recognised her at once, she was the girl who had been involved in the fight with Mali.

‘You're Mr Richardson aren't you?' she said ingratiatingly, and he returned her gaze coolly.

‘Yes, I am, what of it?' He gave his attention once more to the Ascot, wondering what Sally Benson was waiting for. She came nearer and stood beside him.

‘Too snooty to talk to the likes of me, aren't you?' Her tone was derisory now and Sterling straightened, wanting only to be rid of her.

‘That's right,' he said flatly. ‘Why don't you just run along back to your work? Mr Waddington doesn't pay you to hang around.'

‘Well I know something about you,' she said nastily. ‘Me mam is a midwife, see, clears up little troubles for ladies, she does. Miss Bea Cardigan from a fine house up on the hill came to see Mam and the talk is you're the father of the little babba she was havin'.'

Sterling looked at her closely, suddenly giving her all his attention, and he saw a pleased smile twist her lips.

‘Thought that would get you,' she said. ‘Awful to let her down like that, you might be rich but you're no gentleman so me Mam says.' She stepped back a pace as though suddenly afraid of the look in Sterling's eyes, and without stopping to say any more, she hurried away down the street.

He stood looking after her for a long moment and was unaware of Ronnie Waddington's presence until the older man put a hand on his arm.

‘Anything wrong, dear boy?' he said in concern and Sterling forced himself to smile.

‘No not wrong, not really, but there is something I want to check up on. Can you tell me where that girl lives?' He pointed to Sally's disappearing figure and Ronnie nodded.

‘Just along the road in Canal Street, not a couple of minutes away. Is there anything I can help you with?'

‘No,' Sterling answered. ‘There is something I have to do for myself.'

It was about half an hour later when Sterling drew the Ascot to a halt outside Bea's house. He was in full possession of the facts now, for he had confronted Mrs Benson and frightened her into telling him the truth. He realised at once that the child must be his, but why had Bea not confided in him?

He frowned grimly. Another thing, Sally Benson had doubtless told Mali the whole gruesome story, which accounted for some of her anger and bitterness towards him.

Bertha let him into the conservatory and there was a look in her dark eyes that told Sterling she knew the truth. Everyone had known it except himself, he thought bitterly.

‘Sterling, how good of you to come and see me.' Bea's voice was light, insubstantial and he was appalled to see how frail and ill she looked. She sat down with a small sigh and the thin hands, clasped in her lap, were trembling.

‘Bea, why didn't you come to me, tell me you were in trouble?' Sterling said without preamble. ‘Do you think you had the right to go to Mrs Benson like that without even consulting me?'

Bea's face grew even paler and deep shadows etched themselves under her eyes.

‘You've found out,' she said in a strangled voice. She bit her lip and looked away from him as though ashamed and Sterling felt an almost overpowering sense of pity for her. Before he could move towards her she spoke again.

‘Sterling, I'm going to be married to Dean Sutton,' she said slowly. ‘Please, won't you just forget everything that passed between us and leave me to enjoy what I may of my life?'

So that was it, she found it inconvenient to give birth to his child when she was planning to marry someone else. And yet there was a pleading for understanding in her eyes and he could not ignore it. He moved to the door.

‘Then I can only wish you every happiness,' he said formally. ‘Goodbye.'

Outside, he took deep breaths of the cold air, telling himself that what Bea did from now on was none of his business. And yet the sadness in her eyes haunted him and suddenly he wished to God that he had never become involved with Bea Cardigan.

It was late afternoon and Mali was sitting in the office waiting for Mr Waddington to return from lunch. All day she had been trying to pluck up the courage to tell him of her proposition and the fact that she had been more busy than usual had not helped matters.

She pushed the ledger away from her and covered her face with her hands. She felt slightly nauseous and even though she knew the reason for her state of sickliness, she still could not quite believe that she was going to have a child.

They had been very kind to her at the infirmary, telling her that Davie could be kept in longer than necessary if she was unable to manage, but she knew how much he wanted to come home and she could not deny him that. And so it was imperative that she speak to Mr Waddington today.

She sighed and rose to her feet and stared out into the coldness of the yard. The trees were all bare now, the branches standing out against the sky like skeleton fingers, and Mali shivered. But it would be spring again when her baby came, she thought with a mixture of apprehension and joy.

The door opened but it was not Mr Waddington as Mali had expected. It was Big Mary, carrying a tea tray.

‘I wanted to speak to you,
cariad
,' Mary said, putting the tray down on the desk. ‘Now please do not be offended but it's just that I'm worried about you, see?'

Mali felt her colour rising. ‘Why are you worried, Mary, I'm fine,' she replied quickly. ‘Dad's accident was a terrible shock of course but I'll get over it, I'll have to.'

Mary folded her huge arms over her ample stomach and stared at Mali, shaking her head gently. ‘You can't hide it from me, girl.' She spoke firmly. ‘Now come on, don't try to pull the wool over the eyes of Big Mary, you know that I'm on your side, always have been. Perhaps I can be of help.'

‘What do you mean?' Mali stumbled slightly over the words as she watched Big Mary pour the hot fragrant tea.

‘I've seen it in your face for some time now,
cariad
, you're going to have a baby,' she smiled. ‘I doubt if anyone but me has noticed it, mind. And none of my business of course but you need to take care of yourself at such a time, see a doctor at least.'

‘What will I do, Mary?' It was a relief in a way to talk to someone older and wiser. ‘I'm so tired all the time and soon I'll have Dad to look after, I just don't know how I'll manage.'

Mary smiled widely. ‘Don't take on so, there's always ways to work these things out. When you've had the child, you could find a good girl to mind it for you. As to your dad, he might get strong and well again once he's home, but face one problem at a time, see.'

Mr Waddington entered the office bringing with him a gust of cold air. ‘Did Sally Benson give you the papers you required?' he asked, taking off his coat and seating himself in his chair.

‘Yes, thank you sir.' It was Mary who spoke. ‘And there's a good fresh pot of tea there to warm you up.' She left the office then, closing the door behind her, and Mali knew the time had come to speak to Mr Waddington.

‘I'd like to put some money into the business,' she said. ‘I have over a hundred pounds. It's Dad's compensation and as far as I can see it's the best way of investing it.' She saw Mr Waddington nod approvingly and was encouraged to go on.

‘It's enough to buy some new boilers, which will be a good start. Then I mean to reorganise things, make everything work more efficiently.' She paused. ‘If you'll let me.'

He leaned forward and took her hand. ‘My dear girl, I'm more than willing, indeed, I'm delighted. You've become indispensable to me, don't you know that? I couldn't manage without you now.'

‘Then you accept?' Mali said incredulously and Mr Waddington clasped her hand more tightly.

‘I think you'd make me an admirable partner,' he said. ‘You have youth on your side as well as a good fund of common sense. And you have a flair for business that is rare in a woman, and so I accept gladly.'

Mali smiled at him gladly, excitement rising within her. She had done it, persuaded Mr Waddington to take her into the business. Then her heart almost stopped beating as she remembered there was something else she must say. It was only fair what Mr Waddington knew exactly what he was taking on.

‘I can see by the expression on your face that a confession is coming,' he said with a merry twinkle in his eye. ‘Don't say another word for I need you whatever your responsibilities may be. You see my dear I've no family, no one at all, and I'm getting old and tired so I can only thank God for sending you along.'

Mali stared at him in bewilderment. ‘But you don't understand, Mr Waddington . . .' she began and he held up his hand for silence.

‘I understand more than you think, my dear, after all I've grown to know you since we've been working in the office together. I knew there was something troubling you even before your father's accident.' He paused and sighed. ‘And it doesn't matter one jot to me, all I care about is your welfare and the fact that my laundry will survive. Now you have the rest of the day off and tomorrow too if you like, and don't worry about our little deal, I shall call into my lawyer's office on the way home, which will be a good excuse to have a drink instead of returning to an empty house.'

Mali stared at him in dumb gratitude, her heart so warm that it seemed to fill her being. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed Mr Waddington's thin cheek.

‘You won't be sorry and that's a promise,' she said softly.

When Mali arrived home, she was surprised to find Rosa sitting beside a glowing fire and for once the kitchen was neat and tidy, the table freshly scrubbed and the floor swept. Thankfully Mali sank down into a chair and closed her eyes for a moment, simply enjoying the silence and warmth and familiarity of the little room.

She had meant to tell Rosa off in no uncertain terms for her slovenliness and here she was acting like a reformed character, which was just as well, for Mali did not feel she would have the strength to face a quarrel, not just now.

‘I've been down the infirmary.' Rosa's voice broke into her thoughts and Mali reluctantly opened her eyes. Rosa was staring down at her hands, a strange expression on her face, and suddenly Mali was uneasy.