‘So, am yer a virgin … Virginia? I mean – you know as I ain’t.’
The rich aroma of cheese cooking permeated the room and Virginia breathed it in. It was a warm, homely smell, incongruous in this spartan den of iniquity in which she now sat.
‘I am unmarried, Minnie. But rest assured that I shall remain a virgin until I attain the blessed state of holy matrimony.’
‘You don’t know what you’m missin’, Virginia … You don’t, honest.’
‘No, and I can’t begin to imagine, either, Minnie. I’d rather not even try.’
The kettle was starting to bubble and steam profusely, so Minnie lifted it from the fire, holding the handle with a rag. ‘I’ll mek that tea now.’ She reached into the cupboard at the side of the grate and took out a packet of tea.
‘I shall not be deterred by your resistance to repentance, you know, Minnie,’ Virginia said. ‘God’s bounteous love is too potent a force to resist for long. So I shall not be despairing of you.’
Minnie smiled appreciatively. ‘I know you’m a good person, miss. You’m well meaning an’ all that. You’m welcome here any time. We can always enjoy a mug o’ tea together, eh? But I ain’t gunna promise that I’ll ever tek up this church lark … Nor give up me whorin’.’
In his eagerness to see Poppy, Bellamy was a few minutes early collecting her for the drive to the Clent Hills. She was in her bedroom when he arrived, putting the final touches to her hair. Looking in the mirror, she pinched her cheeks and checked her teeth before she ventured down, wearing a walking dress of dark green woollen cloth, a little shorter than the day dresses she wore in the house. As she stepped downstairs she could hear Bellamy and Aunt Phoebe talking in the drawing room. She appeared at the door and smiled affably at him.
‘Hello, Bellamy. I just need to put on my mantle and bonnet.’
‘If I were you, I’d put on that scarf you’ve knitted,’ Aunt Phoebe advised. ‘And take my muff as well. It’s chilly today.’
‘All right, Aunt.’
Poppy returned after a few minutes, with Dolly behind her.
Bellamy stood up and smiled at Poppy. ‘My cart is outside,’ he said, denigrating his gig.
‘What time do you intend getting back home?’ Aunt Phoebe asked, accompanying them to the front door.
‘What time d’you want me to be back, Aunt Phoebe?’ Poppy asked.
‘In time for you to have tea before we go to church. No doubt by then you’ll be starving.’
‘I’ll make sure we’re back by then, Aunt,’ Bellamy said.
He helped Poppy into the gig before clambering in himself. ‘I’m glad the weather’s so fine today, Poppy. A beautiful sunny day, even if it is verging a bit on the chilly side. D’you think you’ll be warm enough?’
She nodded reassuringly. ‘I reckon so.’
‘Good.’ He clicked to the horse and flicked the reins and they both turned to wave to Aunt Phoebe.
‘How far is it to the Clent Hills, Bellamy?’
‘About six miles, I think.’ He turned onto the Rowley Road and headed up hill. ‘It’ll take us an hour. Maybe less. We’ll have plenty of time for a walk. I asked my father the best way of getting there and he advised me to go via the Lye Waste.’
She shuffled herself comfortable in the seat. ‘Does your father know you’re seeing me then?’
‘Oh yes.’ He turned to feast his eyes again on her face. ‘He sends his regards.’
‘That’s kind of him.’
At the top of the hill he avoided looking in the direction of the toll house on the right, but flicked the reins again. The horse broke into a trot and soon they were passing Tansley House.
‘I always think your house looks so grand,’ Poppy commented.
‘Mausoleum, Poppy. It’s an absolute mausoleum. Costs my father a fortune to run and maintain. We need our own railway just to ferry in coal for the fires.’
‘I bet you could build one.’
‘A railway? Maybe we should build a spur from one of the Earl of Dudley’s pits.’ He chuckled at the thought. ‘I must suggest it to Father.’
‘Well, Aunt Phoebe tells me that’s what you Crawfords do. You’re civil engineering contractors, she says. So, has the family firm ever built any railways?’
‘A section here and there. But the mania for building new railways is over now. The best days are gone. There’s no money for it any more and even less enthusiasm. We’ve been mostly concerned with other public works, like reservoirs, inclined planes, sewers and docks. We tendered for work on the Oxford, Worcester and Wolverhampton, but my father’s a shrewd old devil, you know. He put in a price that he knew they wouldn’t accept. Said they were bound to get into financial straits, in which case he might not get paid. It looks as if he might have been right. They shut up shop for lack of money and the damned line ain’t finished. Of course, they’re looking to the Great Western to bail them out, but we hear rumblings as well that Rufford’s, the bank that supports them, is a bit suspect. Despite all that, it seems they can’t agree on far too many points of policy.’
‘It’s a shame,’ Poppy said from the heart.
‘A shame it is, and no question … But enough of this talk of business. I’d hoped for lighter conversation … I want to know about you, Poppy. Tell me about your family. Tell me how you came to be Aunt Phoebe’s companion. You suddenly appear in our lives like a wondrous vision.’
Poppy pondered what she should tell him. She didn’t want to tell him any lies because it was against her nature. Yet she could hardly tell him the truth, for the truth was too demeaning and would almost certainly mean being shunned in future. So she decided to stall until she could think of how to answer.
‘How is your younger sister?’
‘Well, I believe. She writes regularly from school.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘Oh, she’s an absolute pest when she’s home. Let’s not discuss her.’
Poppy laughed at that. But it was not Elizabeth she was interested in anyway. ‘Have you heard from your brother Robert since?’
‘Nothing since. But they say no news is good news. I mean bad news travels fast, don’t it?’
‘How’s his fiancée taken his going away?’
‘Ain’t seen her, Poppy. She’s been to Tansley House since Robert went to Brazil, I believe, but not when I’ve been there. Anyway, you were about to tell me all about you and your family.’
‘My family, yes … My family are in railway building …’ She looked up at him and beamed, defying the apprehension she felt inside if Bellamy’s questioning became too intense.
He hooted. ‘Well … now there’s a coincidence if ever I heard one! Fancy that. Nobody said, you know. What are they working on now?’
‘To tell the truth I’m not sure. My father had to go away to work … last summer … He met with an accident and died. Now—’
‘Good Lord!’ he interjected. ‘That’s damned bad luck. You lost your father, eh? My condolences, Poppy. I wouldn’t have mentioned it