The Fisher Lass by Margaret Dickinson

Author:Margaret Dickinson [Dickinson, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781447217510
Publisher: Pan Macmillan

‘And what, pray, is the attraction in Baldock Street?’ Louise asked and Robert looked up to see his wife’s lip curl with distaste on the last two words of her question.

They were seated at the Hathersage family breakfast table and it seemed to Robert that if Louise wanted to pick a quarrel – as indeed she so often did these days – she always chose a time when she had the support of her doting papa. And meal times were an ideal opportunity.

Robert felt the muscles in the back of his neck tighten with tension as he decided prevarication was not the answer. Boldly, and without even glancing towards his father-in-law yet knowing both Louise’s parents were listening intently, Robert said, ‘It’s where the Lawrence family live and – as you may recall . . .’ he bit back the sarcasm that threatened to line his words, ‘they’ve had more than their fair share of trouble just lately.’

Louise cut her bacon and slanted her glance across the table as she did so. ‘Most of it brought on by themselves, I don’t doubt. But, if what I hear is true, I understand you are not entirely blameless.’

Robert swallowed. Surely Mr Hathersage had not betrayed his confidence and told his daughter? he thought, but at her next words it was obvious that was exactly the case, particularly as Hathersage himself began to bluster. ‘Now, now, my dear, this is hardly the sort of talk for the breakfast table and in front of your mother too.’

Louise’s blue eyes flashed towards her father and her lips pouted petulantly. ‘If what you said to me last night is true, then it’s all my mother’s fault that my husband seeks his comfort elsewhere.’

To Robert’s consternation, tears brimmed her eyes. He leant across the table towards her and started to say quietly, ‘Louise, we should talk about this in private—’ but he was interrupted by Mrs Hathersage’s voice from the other end of the table rising shrilly. ‘What? Henry, what on earth have you been saying?’

Now, even her father cast a half-despairing, half-exasperated glance at Louise. He rose from the table, leaving his half-eaten breakfast, flinging his morning paper to the floor. ‘I’m going to the office. I won’t be in for lunch and probably not dinner either. I, too . . .’ Now he wagged his forefinger down the length of the table towards his wife. ‘I, too, will find my comforts elsewhere, though I make no secret of the fact.’

‘Well, really,’ Mrs Hathersage said as the door slammed behind her husband. ‘What is the world coming to when a man speaks like that to his wife.’ With delicate fastidiousness, she pressed her napkin to her lips.

Robert stood up. ‘I must go. I have a funeral to attend this morning.’

‘In Baldock Street, I take it?’ was Louise’s parting shot.

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