Hope - Lesley Pearse [147]
‘Then two days it will have to be,’ he said, his tone sullen. ‘Of course, there’s them that wouldn’t want to work in here after the cholera. But someone’s got to make it usable again.’
‘What a brave, good man you are,’ Hope said sweetly. ‘I’m sure you’ll make a lovely job of it.’
Sanders left, and once the door had closed behind him Hope giggled.
‘I’ll wager he was planning on asking for five or six pounds,’ she said.
‘How lucky then that you had someone else lined up,’ Bennett said. ‘But how do you know men who do such work?’
‘I don’t,’ she said. ‘I made him up.’
Bennett roared with laughter. ‘You little minx! Who taught you such tricks?’
‘Gussie and Betsy, I suppose.’ Hope grinned. ‘They were great bargainers; they said you should never look too keen to buy anything, that way the price always comes down.’
‘I’ll remember that,’ he said, still chuckling. He looked around the bare room, taking in the old splatters of blood, squashed insects, and other stains on the walls. ‘How strange it looks now. It’s difficult to believe that for the past three months it was the scene of so much pain and misery; it’s so quiet and still now.’
‘Let us pray we never see another epidemic like it,’ she said, suddenly serious. It was appalling to think over two hundred had died in here, and a similar number in their own homes. ‘But I didn’t expect to see you today. I was just going to sweep up in here, and then go and ask Sister Martha where she wants me next.’
‘You will have two days off before doing anything,’ he said. ‘And I rather hoped you might spend them with me?’
‘With you?’ she exclaimed in surprise.
‘Is that so terrible a prospect?’
‘No, of course not,’ Hope laughed. ‘But where did you plan to go?’
‘Will you promise to come wherever it is?’
‘I think I might,’ she said. Excitement was bubbling up inside her, and though she wanted to pretend to be offhand, she was giving the game away by grinning from ear to ear. ‘Unless of course you were planning sailing a raft down the Avon, or camping in the woods. November isn’t a good month for such things.’
Bennett laughed. ‘I can promise you it will be less chilly than that. Alice’s sister lives in the village of Pill. I often go there with her for it is a peaceful, pretty place by the mouth of the Avon. I usually take long walks and leave her and her sister to chatter. Alice suggested that you should come with us this time.’
Hope’s heart leapt. ‘I’d love to,’ she said.
‘Then we’ll come by in the carriage tomorrow morning at eight-thirty,’ he smiled. ‘The cottage is very small, but Alice will sleep with Violet and you will have the little room. I shall sleep on the couch. But be sure to bring warm clothes for there is often a raw wind coming off the Bristol Channel.’
Mrs Violet Charlsworth, Alice’s sister, reminded Hope of an apple dumpling, short and fat but with a very sweet nature. Her husband had been the pilot of a tugboat that helped big ships up the river to the docks, but he had died of pneumonia three years earlier. Violet’s tiny but cosy cottage reflected her husband’s passion for ships. Water-colours of them, ships in bottles, some brass and some carved from bone, a collection of old navigational instruments and a ship’s bell decorated the walls. There were other exotic items too, brought from sailors back across the seas: frightening-looking African statues, fans, snuff boxes and daggers. Every one of them was carefully arranged and dusted.
The roaring fire was most welcome as it was very cold outside, and Violet’s welcome had been equally warm. She said there was nothing she liked better than a houseful of guests.
Over tea and toasted buns, which she held out to the fire on a long toasting fork, she fired questions at Alice and Bennett, her bright blue eyes sparkling with delight at having company.
‘So Hope is your young lady,’ she said pointedly to Bennett. ‘No wonder you haven’t been down to see me in six months!’
Hope