Page 5 of I Will Steal You the Stars
Enzo let the silence stretch until it threatened to become uncomfortable.
‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance that I could trouble you…’ he let his sentence trail. ‘No, it’s not appropriate. Forget I mentioned it.’
The man’s mouth set into a grim line. ‘I’m happy to help a fellow gentleman.’ He forced the words out, as manners demanded a reply, even though he clearly wished Enzo gone. This was the best part. Using their own rules to skin them.
‘I’m heading for church, and all I have is a sovereign. I lost all my small coins at baccy, I mean…’ Enzo pretended to hesitate. The man smirked, as if following the innuendo of a bad night at the illegal baccarat. ‘Entertainment, last night. I don’t want to put the whole thing on the plate. Who knows what they do with the collection? Any chance you would trade me for small change? And keep a shilling back for your troubles.’
With an easy chuckle, the man retrieved his purse. It was a deal good enough to make the exchange, but not so good as to arouse suspicion. Mr Howard counted until he had made a small stack of shillings and coppers between his fingers, then exchanged them for the sovereign with a greedy grin. With a tip of his top-hat and a good day, Enzo bowed and merged into the crowd.
Enzo returned the gold-rimmed glass. He swapped the top-hat for his bowler and delicately dropped the umbrella to the ground. As he spun to face Mina, the delighted gasp of ‘Oh, my brolly,’ reached his ears.
The coins rustled as he shook them. A good mix of silver and copper, all heavy and clean, not one of them showing signs of thinning. He secreted them into his pocket. ‘Not a bad take.’
Mina chewed her lip. ‘Fake coins are thieving. If that poor man takes his money to the bank, it’ll be confiscated. He’ll lose it all.’
‘Thatpoor manis Mr Howard, from Howard’s glassworks. When he found out Harry, who had been his foreman for more than 10 years, had lost most of his hearing, he turfed him out without notice. And when Mrs Secombe’s son lost an arm in the stamper, he sent them a bill for the time the machine was down.’ Enzo pointed at the elegant beauty who hung from the man’s elbow. ‘That woman is not his wife. Mr Howard is not a good man, yet the world rewards him for it. Why shouldn’t I redistribute his wealth?’ Enzo nodded at the bobby swaggering across the square. ‘Come on, little matron. Are you going to turn me in? Your wages, or the law? What’s the story?’
‘I’m with child,’ she said.
His smugness shrivelled to the size of a barley corn. ‘What? How?’ he stammered.
Mina rolled her eyes. ‘What do you mean, how? The usual way. Or had you left before Matron’s talk?’
‘I got Matron’s talk.’ The fear of it had never left him. ‘But this is you. Little matron Mina who never puts a foot wrong. You don’t just be all…’ Enzo waved a half circle in the vague direction of her middle. ‘Knapped.’
She hung her head as she threaded her hand through his crook. ‘Please save your judgement. I have enough of it for myself.’
Her tiny grip directed them away from the crowd and toward a side street. She led him into the genteel suburbs, with rich green leaves hanging plump from grey branches and doors thick with glistening paint. How could Mina be having a baby, with no hasty wedding, or even a speedy engagement?
Enzo squeezed her hand. ‘Did someone hurt you?’
‘Would you think better of me if they had?’ Mina, again his little robin, with wide eyes begging for acceptance, looked up at him.
‘I don’t think bad of you either way,’ he said.
‘No, you wouldn’t. I always liked that about you.’ Her gaze followed the cracks in the pavement, and a thin smile stretched her lips, but did not inch to her eyes. ‘He twisted the truth, he flattered, and he said many things with one intention. I allowed myself to be a fool. But no. He did not hurt me.’
What type of man seduced a woman like Mina, then stood by as she was dismissed? What type of man didn’t scoop her into his arms and declare her his own, or at least give her some kind of safety? A cad, the worst type of rake. A demon.
‘My hope is to leave the city,’ she continued. ‘Make for Newcastle, or York. I’m sure most people will know it’s a lie if I say I’m widowed, but in the bigger towns, people pry less. Or so I’ve heard. That’s why I need my pay. For a ticket and a few weeks lodging. Patsy has been so helpful, but her kindness cannot last forever.’
‘Matron would look after your baby. She’d probably help you find another placement.’ London wouldn’t be the same if he knew Mina wasn’t in it.
‘I will not have my child chasing the postmaster along the fence line, wondering if someone loves them, when already… oh dear God, I am so sick, all the time, and I mean, almostallthe time, but I already love them so much. It’s been so long since someone was part of me. I will not give that up without a fight.’
Mina remembered a love he had never known—the love of a mother. A corner of envelope pricked through his inner coat pocket, and into his chest. Enzo patted it down and creased it to comfort.
‘The house mistress guessed my condition when I was sick too many mornings in a row,’ she said. ‘I’d worked almost the full month. Perhaps she had a right to dismiss me without a reference, but she had no right to keep my wages.’
They turned onto a well-bred street. He knew this place and knew it was better to keep his distance from it. During the peak of the season, they placed guards and gates at either end each night, so that the gentry could stumble about from house to house, party to party, without the risk of the lower orders getting in the way or taking advantage of them while soused. A few hobs swanned out of a villa as tall as a tenement, walked down the stairs, and turned in the direction of the park. Mina’s grip on his elbow tightened.
‘Stand tall,’ he said. ‘You’re a Londoner; they’re not. Your boots have more right to these stones than theirs.’
The steady clop and jingle of horses bounced between the walls, and Mina shrunk even more. Enzo steered them into a shadow before she cowered fully, and the ripple running through her body told him that this was the upper crust that had cushioned their lives with her labours, then refused to pay her the pittance they owed.
The carriage rolled to a stop. A man dressed in livery leapt from the rumble seat and disappeared behind the vehicle, presumably to open the door. A step folded out. Boots and skirt hems appeared through the gaps between the wheels. The lady of the house alighted. She ascended the stairs to a tall, brown brick townhouse, followed by an older man, likely her husband. A young man who looked about their own age followed.
Mina watched the small progression. The sparkle in her eyes wilted. He knew their sort. All proper manners and chivalry with upper ladies, but as rough as any rake with the maids and servants. Indignation filled his chest.
