‘It’s none of your business,’ Tom snapped. ‘We need to talk in private, so get lost for a while.’
Dick ignored his father, instead addressing Mr Bell. ‘Are you here about the rent? Don’t tell me it hasn’t been paid again?’
Horace Bell just raised an eyebrow.
Dick persisted, ‘If you want to talk to my father in private, how come Emma’s here?’
‘Because what we have to discuss concerns Emma.’
‘Oh, yeah? In what way?’
Emma looked at her brother, seeing the lines of fatigue etched on his face. Poor Dick, up at the crack of dawn, working seven days a week, and passing most of his earnings over to their father. Yet despite that, the rent still hadn’t been paid. Even if they were all out working, nothing would change and, as Alice had said, if they borrowed money, they’d never have the means to pay it back. She looked at her father, wondering how her mother could have loved this man.
Her eyes flicked to Mr Bell and in that instant Emma came to a decision. She didn’t love him, could never love him, but she did like him. If she married the man, at least she’d be away from her father, and if Mr Bell was as well off as he appeared, she’d be able to do more for her brothers and sisters. She’d be able to buy them clothes, food…But she was then struck by another thought. Without her, who’d look after them? Their father didn’t give a damn, only wanting them out of his sight. Dick was at work, and though Luke was as good as gold, he wasn’t capable of cooking, or doing the washing and ironing.
Emma chewed worriedly on her lower lip, hardly listening as Dick continued to quiz their father without success. At last her eyes met Mr Bell’s and he smiled kindly. It was then that a light seemed to switch on in her mind, illuminating the obvious. What was she worrying about? Mr Bell’s house was huge, with enough room for all of them! She doubted her father would object if she moved them all in, and as far as she was concerned he could stay in the flat and stew in his own juices.
With a smile, Emma rose to her feet, moving to touch Dick on the arm. ‘It’s all right, love. Mr Bell just needs to have a few words with me but it’s nothing to worry about. Pop out for five minutes and I’ll tell you all about it when you come back.’
‘Are you sure, sis?’
‘Yes, I’m sure.’
Emma waited until Dick had reluctantly left the room. Then, her tone abrupt she said, ‘All right, Mr Bell, I’ll marry you.’
Horace Bell was elated. When Emma’s eldest brother had returned, there’d been some resistance from him, a heated argument before the young man stormed out again, but now the room was calm. He could see that Emma was upset, and glancing at Tom Chambers, he saw the man’s face was still dark with fury. He had thought at one point that Tom was going to strike his son, but Emma had intervened, telling Dick firmly that she’d made up her mind and wouldn’t change it.
As though sensing his thoughts, Tom growled, ‘That young tyke is getting too big for his boots.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll come round to the idea,’ Horace said, wrinkling his nose. This awful room reeked of damp but before he could leave, there was still much to discuss. He wanted to persuade Emma to marry him sooner rather than later, and he might need her father’s support.
Horace turned to Emma now and, composing his face, smiled, his voice deliberately gentle. ‘Emma, we haven’t had a chance to talk, and I haven’t thanked you yet for agreeing to be my wife. I’m sure we’ll be very happy, my dear, and with this in mind I’d like to set a date for the wedding.’
‘When are you thinking of?’ Tom asked.
‘I’d like it to be as soon as possible, perhaps next month. Also, if Emma doesn’t mind, I’d prefer a civil ceremony.’
‘Well, it’s all the same to me, but I don’t know about Emma. What do you think, girl?’
Both men now looked to Emma for her response. When it came her voice sounded dull, but resigned. ‘Whatever you say.’
Horace breathed a sigh of relief. Unlike a church wedding, a civil marriage would be quick and easy to arrange, and he’d get on to it first thing in the morning. Emma rose to her feet and he watched her as she went to the sink, filling a mug with water before gulping it down. She looked pale, yet despite this, when she returned to her stool he was once again struck by her beauty. Yes, he had chosen well. She came from a poor background, but unlike his first wife, Emma would be undemanding. Of course her clothes were appalling and he’d have to buy new ones that were more suited to her position. For a moment, the thought of spending money made his lips tighten, but then he brightened. After the initial expense there would be no dress allowance, no unnecessary expenditure. Yes, things would be different this time, and he’d make sure the purse strings remained firmly in his hands.
‘If I’m to make the arrangements tomorrow, I’ll need Emma’s birth certificate, and of course, your permission, Tom.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Tom said, finding the certificate in an old biscuit tin and handing it over.
There was a racket outside, the door flying back as three girls rushed into the room, followed by a young lad. They were filthy ragamuffins, and Horace moved hastily out of their path. As his eyes met those of the young lad, Horace paused, seeing that under the grime he was an exceptionally handsome boy. Their gazes locked, and Horace shivered, finding himself uncomfortable under the lad’s intense scrutiny. There was something in his eyes, something deep and unfathomable, almost as if the boy could see into his soul.
‘This is Luke, my second son,’ Tom said, ‘and the girls are Susan, Bella and Ann.’
‘Emma, what’s for dinner?’ one of the girls cried.
Horace dragged his eyes away from the boy. He would have liked some time alone with Emma, but it was obvious that she had her hands full.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he told her, ‘but I’ll see you in the morning and we’ll talk again.’
Her brow creased. ‘You…you want me to come to work?’
Horace could have kicked himself. Until Emma was his wife, he’d have to tread carefully. ‘Goodness, what am I thinking of? I can’t expect you to do the cleaning now. I’ll find someone else to look after the house, but I doubt they’ll keep it as lovely as you.’
‘No, it’s all right,’ Emma said hurriedly. ‘With so many lovely ornaments, I wouldn’t want anyone cleaning them without supervision. We can find someone to replace me after we’re married, but until then I’d rather look after them myself.’
‘Married!’ a voice squeaked.
Horace turned to see that the exclamation came from a snotty-nosed girl and shuddered.
Emma’s smile seemed forced as she answered the child firmly. ‘Susan, we’ll talk later.’
Emma had been brought up in this area, and Horace knew that her diction needed work, but he’d soon sort that out. Little did she know that he had no intention of employing another cleaner, but that was something she’d find out after their marriage. Nevertheless, he was gratified that she showed such concern for his valued pieces of porcelain. ‘Thank you, Emma. You’re right; many of the ornaments are delicate and your concern is commendable. I’ll see you in the morning, my dear.’ Moving towards the door, he nodded briefly at Tom, about to leave when the man spoke.
‘Hang on, I’ll come with you. We should have a drink to celebrate.’
Horace hid a scowl as Tom joined him. He wanted nothing to do