Remember Me - Lesley Pearse [184]
Dolly said that her father wouldn’t reveal the size of the bequest for security reasons. In the letter he’d had written for him, all he would say was that it was enough to live on very comfortably and that if she required a ‘nest egg’ to advance her own position, she had only to ask.
As Mary listened to Dolly, she had no doubt that her sister could start her own business. Beneath her sweet, calm exterior there was a great deal of determination and good sense. So when Dolly insisted that Mary should go home to Cornwall, she was inclined to believe she was right.
Dolly had foresight and imagination. She said that with just a little capital, Mary could run a boarding-house down in Cornwall. She suggested Truro as many people passed through there, or even Falmouth where she could cater for ships’ officers and their families. Another idea was that their parents might be persuaded to buy a small farm, and Mary could grow produce to sell.
‘I might even join you in it if London begins to pall for me,’ Dolly laughed. ‘What you’ve got to keep in mind, Mary, is that you aren’t an ordinary woman, you are brave, strong and sharp-witted. That’s more than enough to succeed. If you stay in London, the only positions open to you will be lowly ones, like kitchen maid. You’ll hate it. You can’t kow-tow to a grumpy cook or a snooty mistress, you’ve seen too much for that. Be brave once more and go home.’
September came in with glorious weather, and whenever Dolly could get away from her mistress for a few hours, she spent them with Mary. The shared laughter, the pleasure of discovering how much they had in common, eased Mary’s grief for her children, and she felt her old optimism and strength returning.
Mr Castel, with Boswell’s help, had written to Ned Puckey to ask him to pass on the news of Mary to the Broads. Boswell had written to his friend the Reverend John Baron of Lostwithiel, seeking his help too in making sure Grace and William Broad were willing to receive Mary home.
Yet long before either the Puckeys or the Reverend Baron could have received these letters, one arrived at Boswell’s home from Elizabeth Puckey, Ned’s wife. It seemed her family had only heard about Mary when she was pardoned. At that time the story about her transportation and subsequent escape was in a Cornish newspaper. Now they were very anxious to know how and where she was. Elizabeth urged that Mary should come home to her family, who as she put it ‘were now in very different circumstances, due to a sizeable inheritance’. She said Mary would have the warmest of welcomes from all members of the family and that William and Grace Broad were very relieved and happy to know their younger daughter had survived her terrible troubles.
While that letter assured Mary of her family’s affection for her, and made her wholeheartedly wish to see them, she was still torn. She liked London, she wanted to stay close to Dolly, Boswell was such a good friend and such stimulating company, and then there was Mrs Wilkes too, of whom she’d grown very fond.
Boswell showed her a life which didn’t exist in Cornwall. He took her to the theatre, coffee houses and restaurants. With Dolly she could recapture her girlhood, discuss men, clothes and the many differences in their lives now to the one they were born to.
Mrs Wilkes was a mother–aunt figure. She was wise and kind, knowledgeable and refined too. Mary sensed she wanted her to stay with her, and help her run her boarding-house. This was very appealing to Mary, for she felt safe there, but as Dolly pointed out, she would have to do the rough work, emptying slop pails, carrying hot water, doing laundry and scrubbing floors. Dolly said she should aspire to more than that.
Then there were the men still in Newgate. Mary didn’t feel able to leave London while they remained