Chapter 34
34
ROSE
Rose did not dare return to her rooms. She couldn’t trust her mistress not to ring the bell the second she stepped into the corridor, despite her promise. Instead, she headed down the servant stairs and out the side door into the kitchen gardens, leaving with only the clothes she was wearing. The light was already draining from the sky and she suspected there was to be a frost that night from the sharp nip in the air.
Keeping to the shadows, she crept up the driveway and ducked behind a cherry tree, billowy with pink blossom, and could see people popping in and out of the Thornburys’ cottage. Curious but kind neighbours checking in on the grief-stricken father, no doubt.
Her practical side came to the fore. No one had reason to suspect her of anything at this point; the body had only been removed that afternoon, and the coroner was not yet involved. She pulled her shoulders back and walked at a steady pace around the opposite side of the green and down the track that ran between the church and the schoolhouse. She decided to follow the river Bran the twenty miles or so up to Manbury, where she could catch a train to London. It was much further away than Branchester, and only a branch line with a more intermittent service, but because it was not the obvious choice, it was less risky. Everyone would assume she’d head to Branchester, where she had grown up and still knew people.
Only when she was out of sight did she start running again. Her only thought was to get out of Lowbridge, but as she forced one shaking foot in front of the other, occasionally stumbling in her panic, and her breath raspy in her throat, she realised she had no money. How would she purchase her ticket? Or pay for lodgings upon her arrival?
She suddenly remembered that Billy Price lived at the bottom of School Lane. Might he be kind and lend her a few shillings? He was always boasting about his dodgy dealings and had once told her that if ever there was anything she wanted, all she had to do was ask.
‘…Because you certainly have something I want,’ he’d said in his oily voice, looking deliberately at her chest, and she’d known exactly what he’d been referring to. Rumour had it that Lady Fletcher’s dairymaid had been known to give him the things he wanted and was suitably recompensed on every occasion.
The notion had horrified her, and she’d held on to the morals of her good Christian upbringing. Many a time, those she was in service with had joked about their escapades with young men, but she had not joined in, determined to save herself for marriage. However, now all she could see was her own swollen blue face with a hangman’s noose around her neck. She had no doubt she would pay for Eloise’s crimes. Those with money and influence were often able to buy themselves out of trouble.
Unsure whether she had the correct house, she rapped cautiously on the back door and moments later Billy’s face appeared. He was rolling a cigarette and looked surprised but delighted to see her, kicking the door open wider with his foot and inviting her in.
‘I’m in trouble. I need money. Can you lend me some and I’ll pay you back? I swear it.’ She slipped into his tiny kitchen and could smell the meaty aromas of a recently cooked stew, noticing the clutter of the room. She was holding out the hope that he might trust her enough to offer a loan. She would happily pay a bit of interest and post the money back to him as soon as she had work. He must know that she was an honest girl. There was absolutely no one else she could ask and she would need to be out of Lowbridge before daybreak, because her absence would imminently be noticed at Church View, if it hadn’t been already.
He studied her briefly – dishevelled and likely with tear stains down her pale cheeks – then he tucked the cigarette behind his ear and closed the door.
‘My, my, my.’ He stood with his back to her only exit, stroking his chin and looking down at her. ‘Not so la-di-dah all of a sudden, are we, missy? Prancing around cocking a snook at me because you believe yourself to be better ’an me. But you come a-knocking at this hour now that you want something, when there’s only one thing I want from you and you ain’t ever been willing to give it.’
‘I need money to get to London.’ She repeated her plea, not wanting to get drawn into a conversation that sickened her.
He slipped his pocket watch from his woollen waistcoat and glanced at the time.
‘Nearest station is Branchester but I’m reckoning you’ve missed the last train. So, I’m wondering where you’ll be spending the night, especially having no money and everything.’
It suited Rose for him to think she was headed to the city, even though she knew full well it would take her two days to walk the twenty miles to Manbury. It wouldn’t be long before word got out and everyone started looking for the fugitive, so let him send them in the wrong direction.
If she could only get to London and find work, everything would be all right. Why, oh why, had she run? But it was too late now for regret. She swallowed, hardly able to believe the words she was about to say.
‘How much?’
‘What?’
‘How much will you pay me?’ She understood now how desperate people could be driven to do desperate things.
Billy was incredulous. ‘So, you’ve gone from all high and mighty to a common whore in the blink of an eye.’ He slithered towards her like a curious snake and met her watery eyes. ‘Jesus, Rose, what kinda trouble you in?’
This was stupid. What was she doing? Debasing herself in such an abhorrent way. The gallows would be preferable. She took a step to pass him but felt a rough hand grip her shoulder.
‘Wait up, young lady, I didn’t say I wouldn’t consider your interesting… proposal.’
And so Rose Turner did a wicked thing on a bleak Tuesday evening in April, something neither God nor her dead parents would ever forgive her for; she sold her soul to Billy Price for a handful of shillings and the promise he would swear blind he’d not seen her pass by that night.