Beyond the Veil of Tears by Rita Bradshaw

Author:Rita Bradshaw [Bradshaw, Rita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780230766228
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

Chapter Seventeen

‘It’s criminal, Albert, keeping the mistress locked away in that place. I can’t bear it, I can’t. An’ them not letting me see her. What’s that, if not downright cruelty?’

‘Lass, lass, don’t take on so.’ Albert put his free arm round Myrtle, who was now sobbing as he drove the horse and cart down the drive of the asylum. ‘We’ll keep trying. You know that. And, to be fair, they’re only obeying orders from Golding.’

‘Him!’ Myrtle rubbed at her wet face with the back of her hand. ‘He’s a wicked devil. All that’s happened to Miss Angeline is because of him, and he drove Mr Hector to his grave.’

‘I didn’t think you liked her uncle?’

‘I didn’t, but what’s that got to do with it? At least he came and tried to see her – that’s something in his favour. And I don’t care what anyone says about him being in debt and the rest of it. I think it was knowing Miss Angeline was locked away in that place that did for him. It was no accident, Albert. He topped himself, sure as eggs are eggs. His conscience saw to it.’

‘Aye, well, if we’re talking about consciences, mine and Olive’s are none too happy about Mr Hector. If we hadn’t said we were going, perhaps he might have come home that night. He was a funny old bird, but me an’ Olive were the nearest thing he’d got to family, especially Olive. If we’d known the load he was under, with the debts an’ all, I wouldn’t have said what I did.’

Myrtle sniffed and scrubbed at her face again, before turning to Albert. ‘We’ve been through this, Albert. You weren’t to blame for him ending up in that river.’

‘Maybe, maybe not, but what’s done is done, an’ it’s no use dwelling on it, not with all I’ve got now.’ His arm tightened as he hugged her close for a moment or two. ‘It’d be like spitting in the face of the Almighty not to count me blessings – you being the most important one.’

‘Oh, Albert.’ Myrtle reached up and kissed his stubbly chin, then gave another little ‘Oh’ as the horse and cart passed through the gates of the asylum and into the lane beyond and one of the cart wheels bumped over a particularly large pothole.

Albert took his arm from around her, holding the reins of the big carthorse with both hands as they trundled down the lane. The cart was a heavy, open vehicle, wide and long and perfect for transporting goods and hay and farming equipment, but very different from the light, attractive conveyances with two wheels and springs that the gentry used for business or pleasure, or the smart carriages with two matching horses pulling them.

He glanced at Myrtle sitting on the wide, long, plank-like seat beside him. She was still clearly trying to compose herself and so he gave her a minute, but he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said that she’d blessed his life.

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