sewer,
only worse. There's too much money involved for anyone to do it willingly.
There needs to be a law involved, one that can be enforced."
"They won't
never do that," Collard said bitterly. "Only men wots got money can
vote, and Parliament makes the laws."
Hester looked at
him gently. "Sewers run under the houses of men with money more than they
do under yours or mine. I think we might find a way of reminding them of that.
At least we can try."
Collard sat
perfectly still for a moment. Then very slowly he turned to look at Sutton, to
try to read in his face if Hester could possibly mean what she said.
"Exactly,"
Sutton said very clearly, then turned to Mrs. Collard. " 'Ow about a cup
o' tea, then, Lu? It's colder'n a witch's-" He stopped, suddenly remembering
Hester's presence. " 'Eart," he finished.
Collard hid a
smile.
Lu glared at
him, then smiled suddenly at Hester, showing surprisingly good teeth.
"Yeah. O' course," she replied.
That evening
Hester spent a couple of hours cleaning and tidying up after the plasterer, who
was now finished. Not only were the walls perfectly smooth, ready for papering,
there was also elegant molding where the wall met the ceiling, and a beautiful
rose for the pendant lamp. But all the time her hands were busy with brooms, dustpans,
scrubbing brushes, and cloths, she was thinking about her promise to Andy
Collard and, more important, to Sutton. As Collard had observed, Parliament
made the laws. That was the only place worth beginning. She must find out who
was the member most appropriate to approach.
When Monk came
home she proudly showed him how the house decorating was going, and asked after
the success of his day. She said nothing about Sutton or her interest in the
building of the new sewers. It was not difficult to conceal it, nor did she
feel deceitful. She was deeply concerned over the apparent suicide of Mary
Havilland, the young woman who had so recently lost her father in a way Hester
could understand far more than she cared to remember. She had thought her own
loss had been dealt with in her mind and the wound of it healed over. Now it
was like a bone that was broken long ago but aches again with the cold weather,
a pain deep inside, wakening unexpectedly, too covered over with scars to reach
again, and yet sometimes hurting as sharply as when it had been new.
She wanted to
hide it from Monk. She could see in the shadow in his eyes, the line of his
lips, that he was aware of the memory in her, and that he was pursuing the
Havilland case at least in part because Mary made him think of Hester. Inside
he was reacting to the old injustice as well as the new.
She wanted to
smile at him and tell him that it did not hurt anymore. But she would not lie
to him. And it was going to hurt more in the loneliness of the house with only
chores to keep her busy, no challenge, nothing to fight. She reached out to
touch him, to be close to him and say nothing. Sometimes explanations intruded
into understanding that was better in silence.
In the morning Hester
visited a gentleman she had once nursed through a serious illness. She was
delighted to see that he was in much improved health, although he tired more
quickly than earlier. She had gone principally for the purpose of learning from
him which member of Parliament to seek out regarding the method and regulations
of the new construction of sewers.
She came away
with the conviction that it was unquestionably Morgan Applegate. She even
obtained a warm letter of introduction so that she might call upon him immediately.
Since she was
already dressed in the best clothes she had, and incidentally the warmest, she
bought herself a little luncheon from a street peddler-something she had become
used to lately. By early afternoon she was at the front door of the home of
Morgan Applegate, M.P.
It was opened by
a short, extremely plump butler who took her letter of introduction. He showed
only worse. There's too much money involved for anyone to do it willingly.
There needs to be a law involved, one that can be enforced."
"They won't
never do that," Collard said bitterly. "Only men wots got money can
vote, and Parliament makes the laws."
Hester looked at
him gently. "Sewers run under the houses of men with money more than they
do under yours or mine. I think we might find a way of reminding them of that.
At least we can try."
Collard sat
perfectly still for a moment. Then very slowly he turned to look at Sutton, to
try to read in his face if Hester could possibly mean what she said.
"Exactly,"
Sutton said very clearly, then turned to Mrs. Collard. " 'Ow about a cup
o' tea, then, Lu? It's colder'n a witch's-" He stopped, suddenly remembering
Hester's presence. " 'Eart," he finished.
Collard hid a
smile.
Lu glared at
him, then smiled suddenly at Hester, showing surprisingly good teeth.
"Yeah. O' course," she replied.
That evening
Hester spent a couple of hours cleaning and tidying up after the plasterer, who
was now finished. Not only were the walls perfectly smooth, ready for papering,
there was also elegant molding where the wall met the ceiling, and a beautiful
rose for the pendant lamp. But all the time her hands were busy with brooms, dustpans,
scrubbing brushes, and cloths, she was thinking about her promise to Andy
Collard and, more important, to Sutton. As Collard had observed, Parliament
made the laws. That was the only place worth beginning. She must find out who
was the member most appropriate to approach.
When Monk came
home she proudly showed him how the house decorating was going, and asked after
the success of his day. She said nothing about Sutton or her interest in the
building of the new sewers. It was not difficult to conceal it, nor did she
feel deceitful. She was deeply concerned over the apparent suicide of Mary
Havilland, the young woman who had so recently lost her father in a way Hester
could understand far more than she cared to remember. She had thought her own
loss had been dealt with in her mind and the wound of it healed over. Now it
was like a bone that was broken long ago but aches again with the cold weather,
a pain deep inside, wakening unexpectedly, too covered over with scars to reach
again, and yet sometimes hurting as sharply as when it had been new.
She wanted to
hide it from Monk. She could see in the shadow in his eyes, the line of his
lips, that he was aware of the memory in her, and that he was pursuing the
Havilland case at least in part because Mary made him think of Hester. Inside
he was reacting to the old injustice as well as the new.
She wanted to
smile at him and tell him that it did not hurt anymore. But she would not lie
to him. And it was going to hurt more in the loneliness of the house with only
chores to keep her busy, no challenge, nothing to fight. She reached out to
touch him, to be close to him and say nothing. Sometimes explanations intruded
into understanding that was better in silence.
In the morning Hester
visited a gentleman she had once nursed through a serious illness. She was
delighted to see that he was in much improved health, although he tired more
quickly than earlier. She had gone principally for the purpose of learning from
him which member of Parliament to seek out regarding the method and regulations
of the new construction of sewers.
She came away
with the conviction that it was unquestionably Morgan Applegate. She even
obtained a warm letter of introduction so that she might call upon him immediately.
Since she was
already dressed in the best clothes she had, and incidentally the warmest, she
bought herself a little luncheon from a street peddler-something she had become
used to lately. By early afternoon she was at the front door of the home of
Morgan Applegate, M.P.
It was opened by
a short, extremely plump butler who took her letter of introduction. He showed
Similar Books
