‘I would have thought Uncle Bernard could at least arrange transport for us,’ she complained churlishly as she brushed the dust from her skirt and straightened her bonnet.
Hetty grinned but made no comment as she set off for the stalls, and with no other choice Abi reluctantly followed her. The expedition proved to be nothing like the shopping trips she had been accustomed to when she could glance in a shop window and choose anything she liked, and soon she was bored and wishing that she had stayed at home. Soon Hetty’s basket was almost full of fruit and vegetables and the other goods she had come for and they were just strolling past the dressmaker’s shop when one of Dorcas’s friends came out of the door with her daughter. Abi put her head down and hoped they wouldn’t see her, but it was too late – she had already been spotted.
‘Abigail, my dear girl!’
Abi had never been fond of Mrs Porter, or her daughter Miranda for that matter, but she forced a smile to her face and inclined her head politely.
‘I was so sorry to hear what had happened to you girls and your poor dear mother,’ the woman rushed on, looking anything but sorry. ‘What adreadfulthing to happen, losing everything just like that!’ She snapped her fingers. ‘But I do hope you and your mother and sister are managing in the little cottage?’
‘We’re managing very well, thank you,’ Abi forced herself to say, avoiding looking at Miranda who had a huge grin on her face.
‘Oh good, good.’ Then, adding insult to injury she patted the enormous bag she was carrying, saying smugly, ‘We’ve just bought the gown you ordered. The dressmaker told us that you wouldn’t be able to afford it any more and it’s such a shame for it to go waste, don’t you think? The colour suits Miranda admirably. But we must get on, dear. Do remember me to your mother, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’ Abi watched the pair walk away and then to Hetty’s amusement she stuck out her tongue in a most unladylike manner. ‘Oldbitch!’ she muttered through gritted teeth. ‘I bet she’s loving what’s happening to us. She always was jealous of Mama.’
Just for a moment Hetty felt quite sorry for her. ‘Ah well, at least you’ll ’ave the satisfaction o’ knowin’ that the gown won’t look ’alf as good on Miranda as it would ’ave on you. She ain’t the prettiest o’ creatures, is she? An’ I’ll bet the dressmaker ’ad a right old game lettin’ it out enough to make it fit ’er!’
Abi grinned and they walked on in companionable silence. But they hadn’t gone far when she saw someone else she knew and she slowed her steps. ‘Look, Hetty, there’s James Prestatyn. His family are awfully well off and I think they’ve always hoped that James and I would make a match one day when we both came of age. I must go over and have a word.’
Before Hetty could stop her Abi lifted her skirts and was off. James had just come out of the tobacconist and when he glanced up and saw her advancing on him, he flushed a dull brick red. Abi had never been that fond of him but suddenly in her straitened circumstances, and knowing how wealthy his parents were, he looked much more attractive.
‘Hello, James, how are you?’ She batted her long eyelashes and gave him her most winning smile as she twirled the little lace parasol she was carrying.
‘I, er .?.?. I’m very well, thank you, Miss Winter. And, er, yourself?’
He seemed a little tongue-tied, so Abi rushed on, ‘I dare say you’ve heard what’s happened with Papa leaving and everything, but we’re getting settled into our new home now so you simplymustcome and see us.’
‘I’ll try.’ He looked acutely embarrassed. ‘But I can’t promise anything .?.?. what with going to university and everything, you understand? I’m only home for a few days.’
‘I see!’ Abi wasn’t best pleased. James was usually all over her like a rash but today it seemed he was embarrassed to even be seen speaking to her. Even so her pride wouldn’t let her show him how humiliated she was, so she nodded before saying cheerfully, ‘Goodbye for now, then,’ and without waiting for him to reply she turned away, tears springing to her eyes as she tried to lose herself in the crowds that were thronging the marketplace.
It was all Hetty could do to catch up with her and once she did, she caught her arm and drew her to a halt, saying softly, ‘Don’t let ’im an’ ’is like upset yer, miss. Yer still as good as them all day long.’
‘But I’mnotany more, am I, Hetty?’ Abi’s voice was loaded with sorrow. ‘Papa has ruined us and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hold my head up again if I stay here. Perhaps I should start looking for a job! Somewhere far away where nobody knows me.’
‘There’ll be plenty o’ time fer that. Come along now, I’ve just about got everythin’ we came for so ’ow about we go an’ wait fer the cart ’ome, eh?’
Abi nodded before remembering something. ‘Oh, I just have to go to the post office first to post this letter for Mama.’ She glanced at it curiously. It was addressed to someone in London. They had visited the capital with their parents many times but she had no idea who this person might be and didn’t much care, so keeping her head down she followed Hetty through the stalls.
The post office was quite full when she reached it, mainly with farmers’ wives who had come into town to shop while their husbands bartered their livestock at the cattle market, but the second Abi set foot through the door the women, who were having a good old gossip, became silent immediately. Abi knew they had probably been discussing her family’s situation and her humiliation was complete.
Later that evening as they sat around the fire, Dorcas asked, ‘Did you remember to post my letter for me, Abigail?’
‘What? .?.?. Oh yes, I did. I’m sure the people in the post office were gossiping about us. They all stopped talking the minute I went in; it was so embarrassing.’ She scowled as she thought of it before asking curiously, ‘Who were you writing to, Mama? I didn’t recognise the name on the envelope.’
Dorcas sighed and laid down the sampler she had been embroidering. ‘Actually .?.?. I was writing to my sister .?.?. to ask her for help, although it goes sorely against the grain. But then I suppose desperate times call for desperate measures.’
‘Yoursister!’ Abigail exclaimed.
Emmy and Abi exchanged a shocked glance. They had never even known their mother had a sister.
‘So why have we never known we had an aunt?’ Abi asked in her usual blunt way. ‘And why didn’t she inherit the farm when Grandfather died?’
‘There was never any reason for you to know, and my parents had washed their hands of her years before they passed away,’ Dorcas said primly. ‘We were also estranged many years ago. She is some ten years older than me and was always our parents’ favourite. Until she shamed them, that is, and then all their hopes were pinned on me.’
‘So, what is her name? Tell us about her,’ Abi pressed.
Dorcas took a deep breath. ‘Very well, her name is Imogen and she was very beautiful and outgoing. I was always the quiet one and my parents never hid the fact that she was the favourite.’ When Abi opened her mouth to say something, Dorcas held her hand up and she clamped it shut again, eager to hear what her mother had to say.
