forgive myself. Never!’
‘Never is a long time,’ Emma said softly, ‘and I’m sure Mrs Thomas understood your reasons for not going back to England. What you did here . . . the work you both put into this fine business, you did it for her, and for your son. She knew that, and I’m sure she understood well enough.’ There was no answer and little response from Roland Thomas, and Emma expected none. Instead he nodded his head and kept his body bent forward in the chair.
‘As for me wanting to seek out the answers I crave, well, I’ve waited a long time and I can wait a little longer. You’re right . . . there’s so much more to be done here, so many opportunities that mustn’t be missed. Things are beginning to happen, and we have to be ready. Don’t concern yourself about me turning my back on you after you’ve given me such a wonderful opportunity to prove myself. I won’t desert you, I promise, and between us, we’ll show the competitors as clean a pair of heels as they’ve seen in a long time. We both have our reasons for seeing the growth of the Thomas Trading Company. When the time is right for me to take leave and trace my path back to those who heartlessly forged it, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to go back, not as a young innocent upon whom stronger men would prey, but as an accomplished business woman . . . a woman of property and consequence, a woman who is more than capable of bringing her enemies to account!’ There was a hardness in Emma’s heart as she spoke, and it was betrayed in the icy edge to her voice. ‘ That will be worth waiting for!’
And so it was agreed. For three years or more, Emma would dedicate herself to matters of business. After that, if she deemed the time to be right, she would take leave and sail for England, to attend to issues that were personal and close to her heart. The wedding date was set for the month of March, some eight weeks hence, in the year of our Lord, 1870.
‘Married now, eh! Well . . . all the luck in the world ter yer, Emma darlin’!’ Nelly raised her merry brown eyes to where Emma stood with her back to the cell door, and, in a voice that was somewhat subdued by her grim surroundings, said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, gal! I know I shouldn’t have got to fighting with that Rita Hughes . . . but the bastard said some‘at as put me back up.’ Here she gave a small laugh. ‘If yer ask me, she’s bleedin’ lucky somebody pulled me orf her. What! I’d have killed her fer sure!’
‘Oh, yes? And got yourself hanged for it, eh?’ Emma was angry and it showed, in her voice, in her countenance, and in the steel-grey of her eyes. ‘Do you honestly think I don’t know what Rita Hughes said that “put your back up”? Do you think I don’t know that there are folks hereabouts who condemn the fact that Roland Thomas has taken a convict for his wife? Their opinions don’t concern either me or Mr Thomas . . . so they shouldn’t concern you !’ Giving a deep sigh and shaking her head, Emma came forward to sit beside Nelly on the narrow iron bed, and gently patting the back of Nelly’s hand, she said with tender feeling, ‘Oh, Nelly, Nelly! Will you always insist on landing yourself in trouble on my account? Don’t you know by now that I am capable of fighting my own battles? Do you think you’re going to stop folk from gossiping between each other, by attacking them with pitch-forks?’ For a minute, there was a deep and profound silence while Emma allowed her words to sink in, and Nelly appeared to be taking them to heart. But then, the silence was broken by Nelly’s soft giggling. ‘Cor, bugger me, Emma, gal,’ she laughed, ‘d’yer know, I’ve only just realised what a narrer escape I’ve had.’ Then, just as Emma thought that her words were having the desired effect, she was told, between spurts of laughter, ‘If I’d damaged that pitch-fork . . . I’d have been in real trouble with you, wouldn’t I, eh?’
Try
‘Never is a long time,’ Emma said softly, ‘and I’m sure Mrs Thomas understood your reasons for not going back to England. What you did here . . . the work you both put into this fine business, you did it for her, and for your son. She knew that, and I’m sure she understood well enough.’ There was no answer and little response from Roland Thomas, and Emma expected none. Instead he nodded his head and kept his body bent forward in the chair.
‘As for me wanting to seek out the answers I crave, well, I’ve waited a long time and I can wait a little longer. You’re right . . . there’s so much more to be done here, so many opportunities that mustn’t be missed. Things are beginning to happen, and we have to be ready. Don’t concern yourself about me turning my back on you after you’ve given me such a wonderful opportunity to prove myself. I won’t desert you, I promise, and between us, we’ll show the competitors as clean a pair of heels as they’ve seen in a long time. We both have our reasons for seeing the growth of the Thomas Trading Company. When the time is right for me to take leave and trace my path back to those who heartlessly forged it, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to go back, not as a young innocent upon whom stronger men would prey, but as an accomplished business woman . . . a woman of property and consequence, a woman who is more than capable of bringing her enemies to account!’ There was a hardness in Emma’s heart as she spoke, and it was betrayed in the icy edge to her voice. ‘ That will be worth waiting for!’
And so it was agreed. For three years or more, Emma would dedicate herself to matters of business. After that, if she deemed the time to be right, she would take leave and sail for England, to attend to issues that were personal and close to her heart. The wedding date was set for the month of March, some eight weeks hence, in the year of our Lord, 1870.
‘Married now, eh! Well . . . all the luck in the world ter yer, Emma darlin’!’ Nelly raised her merry brown eyes to where Emma stood with her back to the cell door, and, in a voice that was somewhat subdued by her grim surroundings, said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, gal! I know I shouldn’t have got to fighting with that Rita Hughes . . . but the bastard said some‘at as put me back up.’ Here she gave a small laugh. ‘If yer ask me, she’s bleedin’ lucky somebody pulled me orf her. What! I’d have killed her fer sure!’
‘Oh, yes? And got yourself hanged for it, eh?’ Emma was angry and it showed, in her voice, in her countenance, and in the steel-grey of her eyes. ‘Do you honestly think I don’t know what Rita Hughes said that “put your back up”? Do you think I don’t know that there are folks hereabouts who condemn the fact that Roland Thomas has taken a convict for his wife? Their opinions don’t concern either me or Mr Thomas . . . so they shouldn’t concern you !’ Giving a deep sigh and shaking her head, Emma came forward to sit beside Nelly on the narrow iron bed, and gently patting the back of Nelly’s hand, she said with tender feeling, ‘Oh, Nelly, Nelly! Will you always insist on landing yourself in trouble on my account? Don’t you know by now that I am capable of fighting my own battles? Do you think you’re going to stop folk from gossiping between each other, by attacking them with pitch-forks?’ For a minute, there was a deep and profound silence while Emma allowed her words to sink in, and Nelly appeared to be taking them to heart. But then, the silence was broken by Nelly’s soft giggling. ‘Cor, bugger me, Emma, gal,’ she laughed, ‘d’yer know, I’ve only just realised what a narrer escape I’ve had.’ Then, just as Emma thought that her words were having the desired effect, she was told, between spurts of laughter, ‘If I’d damaged that pitch-fork . . . I’d have been in real trouble with you, wouldn’t I, eh?’
Try
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