The Hyde Park Headsman - Anne Griffin Perry [151]
“That’s as may be, but you ain’t doing it on my bus—not with that bag full o’ laundry! What d’yer think this is, a trades van?” He pointed his finger towards the pavement. “Now get orf, before I call the police and yer gets taken in custody for causing a disturbance.”
Someone else inside the bus came forward, an elderly gentleman with a mustache and a black walking stick in his hand.
“Let the poor creature ride,” he said to the conductor. “I’m sure there’s room, if she holds it on her knee.”
“You sit down, sir, and don’t go interferin’ in what ain’t your business,” the conductor commanded him. “I’ll take care o’ this.”
“But …” the old gentleman began again.
“Sit down, you silly old duffer,” a woman called out from the inside. “Don’t interfere! ’E knows what ’e’s doing. Goodness sakes, you can’t ’ave people bringing on their laundry! Whatever next?”
“She said it’s not laundry—” The man was interrupted brusquely by the conductor.
“You go and sit down, sir, else I’ll ’ave to put yer orf too. We gotta keep to a time ’ere, yer know!” He turned back to Charlotte. “Now look ’ere, miss, are yer goin’ to get orf on yer own, or do I ’ave ter call the rozzers and ’ave yer taken in charge fer disturbin’ the peace?”
Charlotte was too furious to speak. She let out her breath in a gasp of rage and stepped back off the platform onto the pavement. She only thought to thank the old gentleman who had tried to help her when it was too late and the bus had jolted forward, overbalancing him until he fell against the conductor and had to pick himself up. The driver shouted at the horses again and cracked his whip in the air above their backs and they gathered speed, leaving Charlotte alone on the footpath with her cushions, and a monumental rage.
“Where on earth have you been?” Pitt said, staring at her when she finally arrived, hot, untidy, hair falling all over the place and her cheeks still burning with temper, the cushions clasped in her clenched fist.
“I have been in a hansom cab,” she replied heatedly. “That driveling officious little … swine wouldn’t let me on the omnibus!”
“What?” Pitt was confused. “What are you talking about? Everything’s here. The men have unpacked about half of it.”
“The impertinent, condescending, arrogant little toad wouldn’t let me on with the cushions …” she went on furiously.
“Why not?” He frowned at her. He could see that she was bristling with rage, but he did not perceive the reason. “What do you mean? Wasn’t it the ordinary omnibus?”
“Yes of course it was the ordinary omnibus!” she shouted. “The autocratic, bossy, self-opinionated little oaf thought the cushions were laundry, and he wouldn’t let me get on. He even threatened to call the police and have me taken in charge for disturbing the peace!”
Pitt’s mouth twitched and his eyes were very bright, but after a moment of total silence when her blazing expression dared him to be amused, he composed himself to suitable sympathy.
“I’m sorry. Let me take the cushions.” He held out his hand. She thrust them at him. “Where are the men now? I don’t see them.”
“Gone ’round the corner to the public house to have lunch. They’ll be back in half an hour or so to unpack the rest. Gracie is in the kitchen.” He gazed around the drawing room where they were standing. “This really is very nice indeed. You’ve done a magnificent work here.”
“Don’t humor me,” she said tartly. But she was longing to smile and she sniffed and stared around also. He was right, it was looking very good indeed. “Where are the children?”
“In the garden. The last I saw of them, Daniel was up the apple tree and Jemima had found a hedgehog and was talking to it.”
“Good.” She smiled in spite of herself. “Do you think they’ll like it?”
His expression answered her question without the necessity of words.
“Have you seen the green room upstairs? That’s going to be our bedroom. Here, let me show you.” He considered saying he really had not time, and changed his mind. And as soon as they were upstairs he was glad he had changed his mind. The room had a peace about