We arranged for Deirdre to come for dinner before therapy on Thursday. She promised to hold off handing in her resignation letter until then.
I felt a wave of relief, as Hattie spent the rest of the afternoon showing me her ‘Christmas’ crows. Helping out for a few days was one thing, but I had no idea what to say when confronted with a one-legged crow wearing a Santa hat. I couldn’t wait to leave it to Deirdre and go back to rummaging through boxes of junk. Plus, once Deirdre knew, the rest of the Gals would surely follow, and Hattie could tell Gideon the truth about me. The waiting felt like an ill-fitting rucksack chafing on my shoulders. I was more than ready to dump it.
Once the designs were safely sent off, Hattie brightened a little. She slept and read most of Tuesday, and by Wednesday morning, was ready to head back up to the attic and continue her story. She settled upon a box of reports from Madam Bourton’s School for Young Ladies,accompanied by a portfolio of paintings.I felt my heart sink at the tale that must accompany it.
* * *
Riverbend
Hattie had grabbed a loaf of bread, some cheese and a bag of fruit before racing upstairs to lock her bedroom door. She felt confident that in his current state, her father would pose no risk to Aidan. But the worst thing Hattie had ever fought was the flu.
Having spent a hideous hour attempting to break the solid oak door down, by morning, Leonard had sobered up enough to fetch a screwdriver and simply remove it from the frame. He found Hattie standing behind an old chest, clutching a silver candlestick.
‘You dirty little bitch.’ He shook his head, the leer far worse than his usual snarl.
She could barely hear him over the adrenaline stampeding through her bloodstream, but kept her eyes fixed on his, every muscle braced for whatever came next.
‘Now I know where the money comes from. Selling yourself to scum like him.’
‘No!’ She tried to sound brave, but it was a hoarse whisper.
‘Well, it isn’t from the Oaktree Tearooms. They’ve never heard of you.’
‘I’ve been selling my paintings.’
‘Oh, really? Did a painting do that to you?’ His lip curled up in disgust as he nodded at her belly.
‘We’re in love. It’s not dirty.’
‘It’s Aidan Hunter’s bastard,’ her father roared. ‘It’s a bloody disgrace!’
‘I… I could marry him,’ she garbled, ignoring the peal of contemptuous laughter. ‘He’s not like the rest of them. Aidan’s going to be a policeman, not a criminal.’
The laughter stopped abruptly.
‘Is that what he told you, you silly little girl? And you believed him?’
‘It’s true!’
‘He got arrested last night. Caught red-handed robbing the post office.’
Hattie felt as though her body were collapsing in on itself. As if the baby were the only thing keeping her upright. But it was because of the baby that she would stand tall against her father. He was probably lying. Or simply mistaken. Plenty of people got the Hunter brothers mixed up.
Either way, she decided to nod, apologise, comply with whatever her father wanted. For three days, until her real life began.
She did, however, come up with the presence of mind to ensure her baby’s safety in the meantime.
‘I’ve seen the doctor, and the midwife,’ she said, squashing down her fear as she tilted up her chin. ‘They both know I’m six months pregnant, and that me and the baby are healthy.’
She didn’t need to add that, after the various rumours about her mother’s death, if any harm came to another Riverbend woman, it would raise more than a little suspicion.
He folded his arms. ‘Six months? Make the most of the three you’ve got left carrying that brat, because the sorry day it’s born will be the last time you see it.’
He left then, the door still propped against the corridor wall. Hattie tried not to let his threats overwhelm her. Aidan would meet her on the riverbank. She knew he would.
For the next three days, she packed and repacked, trying to prioritise what meagre possessions she could bring with her. Leonard responded to her pleas of remorse with a blank stare or the flicker of a sneer. He ate the meals she cooked and made no comment as she moved about the house, but when she tried to fetch a bunch of parsley from the garden, the boot-room door was locked and the key missing. She soon found that every way out was equally inaccessible.
‘I need some vegetables from the garden. The doctor said I have to eat well, for the baby’s sake.’
