Mrs Howarth spoke sharply. ‘Louisa, how can you be so unkind to Percy? Really, I’m quite shocked and upset.’
‘Well, I can’t think why,’ said Louisa sensibly. ‘I’ve told you that I have no wish to marry Percy. And I’ve told him a dozen times.’
Percy got to his feet. ‘It is better that I do go, I think.’ He managed to sound sad and yet at the same time maintained what Louisa took to be a stiff upper lip.
‘Never mind, Percy. You’re well rid of me, you know.’ She offered a hand and he took it reluctantly and heaved a sigh.
‘I shall always have happy memories of you, Louisa—until today, of course.’
He took a sorrowful leave of Mrs Howarth then, and Louisa went to the front door with him. She should be feeling guilty, she supposed, but what she felt was a sense of freedom.
When she went back to the drawing room her stepmother said angrily, ‘You’re a fool, Louisa. You’re not a young girl any more; you can’t afford to be choosy.’
‘Yes, I can. I’ve a nice job, and on my next birthday I get grandmother’s money that she left me. I can be independent for as long as I wish.’ She paused. ‘Tell me, Felicity, did Percy know about that—my legacy?’
Mrs Howarth looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, you know how things slip out …’
‘It would have been useful to him, wouldn’t it? Happy young bride hands husband a nice lump sum so that he can shoot ahead in his career. Or was he going to persuade me to make some of it over to you?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Louisa. I have been left very comfortably off by your father.’
‘You’re overdrawn at the bank. You forget, you told me to open the post for you the other morning. There was a letter from the bank manager …’
‘You had no right.’
‘No, I know that. I didn’t read it deliberately; the letter was folded in such a way that I couldn’t help but read it as I took it out of the envelope.’
Mrs Howarth said in a wheedling voice, ‘Louisa, dear, it’s only temporary. If you could let me have some money? I’ll pay you back.’
‘Have you paid Biddy?’
‘Oh, she doesn’t mind waiting. She hasn’t anything to spend her money on, anyway.’
‘How many weeks do you owe her?’
‘A couple—well, three, I suppose.’
‘I’ll pay Biddy’s wages for three weeks. I dare say you can borrow whatever you want from one of your friends.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly—I play bridge with most of them, and how could I ask them here for lunch?’
‘Then don’t ask them,’ said Louisa. ‘Try Percy. I’m going to see Biddy, then I’m going to bed.’
Biddy was tidying the kitchen before going to bed. Her eyes brightened at the sight of the notes Louisa held out to her.
‘Well, now, Miss Louisa, the money will be very welcome—got ter think of me old age, ‘aven’t I?’
‘Of course, Biddy. And if you don’t get your wages regularly, will you let me know and I’ll remind Mrs Howarth?’
Louisa went to bed then, but not to sleep at once. She sat by the open window of the pretty room and thought about her future. It seemed obvious to her that Felicity would be better off without her—she might marry again, for she was still pretty and amusing. It would be best if she found a room, or a tiny flat somewhere in the city not too far from Sir James’s rooms.
She would miss the comfortable life she led now, but that didn’t worry her particularly. Indeed, she had always wished to live independently but her stepmother had begged her to stay. She could see that if she stayed now she would be in a rut from which there would be no escape. A place of my own, thought Louisa with satisfaction, and when I get Granny’s money I’ll find a flat, somewhere near the cathedral.
She settled down to sleep then, her mind made up. Of course, there would be difficulties with Felicity, although probably she would be relieved not to have Louisa around the house. Louisa had a little money saved, and the money she currently paid Felicity each week would go towards the rent of rooms. A pity she had no one to advise her. Dr Gifford, for instance. She came wide awake at the thought. He was the very last person she would wish to receive advice from!
Mrs Howarth sulked for several days and gave vent to her annoyance by going shopping, buying expensive clothes on her credit cards, spending long hours with friends, playing bridge and gossiping. She ignored Louisa when she was home; this had no effect, though, for Louisa had her pretty head filled with ideas and schemes.
She had gone to various estate agents and enquired about flats, and had been appalled at the rents of even the smallest ones. Of course Salisbury, being a cathedral city, had a certain prestige, and the area around the close where she would have liked to live was very expensive. She began to hunt around streets further afield, where the rents were within her means, but she found nothing to suit her.
It was when she took Biddy into her confidence that her luck changed. ‘A flat?’ asked Biddy. ‘Bless you, Miss Louisa, there’s Mrs Watts—I see ‘er down at the Bell regular. Told me she ‘ad a nice little flat. One of those little turnings off St Anne’s Street. Close by and very quiet, so she tells me.’
‘Do you suppose she would consider me, Biddy? If I were to go with you on your evening off we could meet her at the Bell.’
Biddy considered. ‘Well, now, it ain’t the place for a pretty young lady ter be. But there’s a snug at the back of the bar; I dare say we could arrange something. Leave it ter me; I owes yer, Miss Louisa. I’ll miss yer, but it don’t seem right that you should do more than your share. I know you go out a bit with the missus, but only to dull bridge parties and the like. You needs young people—a man. Like ‘im ‘oo carried me ter me room. Mind you, I didn’t see ‘im all that clearly but ‘e was a big chap and ‘e ‘ad a nice voice.’
She peeped at Louisa. ‘Seen ‘im again, ‘ave you, Miss Louisa?’
‘Well, yes. He came to Sir James’s rooms one morning. He’s a doctor.’
‘Ah.’ Biddy was all at once brisk. ‘Well, I’ll ‘ave a chat with Mrs Watts and let you know, Miss Louisa.’
As ill luck would have it, Biddy’s next free evening was forfeited. Mrs Howarth had issued invitations for dinner and bridge afterwards to several of her friends, and Biddy had to be on hand to cook and serve the meal.
‘I don’t suppose it matters to you when you have your evenings,’ she’d told Biddy. ‘I shall be out to dinner on Saturday, so have it then.’
Despite this setback, Louisa decided that it was a good thing. If her stepmother was out to dinner, then they wouldn’t need to worry about getting back before the Bell closed. Mrs Howarth had told Louisa sulkily that she could have the house to herself or go out with any of her friends.
‘It’s Biddy’s night off so you’ll have to get your own meal. I dare say you’ll manage. It’s as well you’re not invited; Percy will be there.’
‘Just as well,’ agreed Louisa sweetly. ‘And don’t worry about me. I hope you have a pleasant evening.’
The Bell was old, dark-beamed and crowded. Biddy led Louisa through the groups of people clustered in the bar and into the snug behind it.
Mrs Watts was already there, sitting at a small table with a glass of stout before her. She was a small woman, very thin, and could have been any age between forty and fifty years old. But she had a friendly face and manner, and after the ladies