Salem Street by Anna Jacobs

Author:Anna Jacobs [JACOBS, ANNA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 1994-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

15

May to June 1838

Annie went back to Number Three alone to tell her father the news. As she had said to Charlie, why wait? She hated it at Collett Hall. They might as well get married straight away. She nearly said ‘get it over with’, but she changed the words just in time. She didn’t mean the marriage, so much as the fuss she knew people would make about her and Charlie. They’d laugh at her for marrying him, but let them! She’d know about the money and they wouldn’t. She could still feel the coins in her fingers. How round and shiny! They had made all the difference when it came to marrying Charlie, for they represented the thing she craved most, security.

She had already begun to feel protective towards Charlie. He was a nice man, kind and generous. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt him and she wouldn’t let other people hurt him, either. She’d look after him well, better than he’d ever been looked after before.

She went in through the front door of Number Three and leaned against it. They were all there round the fire, even Tom, and they turned to stare at her, their interest caught by the aura of excitement that hung around her.

“You all right, our Annie?” asked John.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She drew a deep breath. “I’ve a bit of good news to tell you.”

“Oh, aye?”

“I’m going to get married.”

“What?” That was Emily. “Matt’s never changed ’is mind!”

“Matt? Oh no! It’s not Matt.”

“Who is it, then? Who else is there?”

“It’s – Charlie.”

“Charlie who?”

“Charlie Ashworth.”

They still didn’t understand. This was the bit she’d dreaded. She hated to say it. She’d never say the word again after today. Never. “Barmy Charlie.”

She shut her eyes tight as they all hooted with laughter. They fell about the room, wiping the tears from their eyes, then breaking into fresh paroxysms of mirth. From time to time, one of them would say, “Barmy Charlie,” and this would set them all off again. Even John joined in the general mirth. Annie stood rigid, waiting for them to finish.

But after the first burst of laughter Tom didn’t join in. He sat and gazed at Annie speculatively and waited for the rest of them to stop laughing, waited for her to explain her action. She wasn’t daft, their Annie wasn’t; she’d not marry anyone without a good reason. What did a man like Barmy Charlie have to offer a girl like her?

“You’re goin’ as soft as he is!” said Emily at last, scornfully, when they realised that Annie meant it.

“You’re not serious, are you, lass?” asked John sadly. “I mean – you can’t be serious!”

“I’m serious,” Annie said. “I’m very serious. I want you to come with me to see Mr Hinchcliffe tomorrow and get him to call the banns.”

“I’ll not!”

“Why not?”

“Why not? You know why not, Annie, lass! It’s disgusting even to think of it! Why, he’s old enough to be your father and he’s not right in the head!”

“I don’t find him disgusting.

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