down the Bull for a gill of black. Wait till they cop sight of this, eh? I’ll tell them it grew back overnight with me saying me beads, like a miracle.’ She threw a shawl around her thin shoulders. ‘Thanks, lass,’ she said, quieter now. ‘These last weeks have been the best in me life.’
Philly stared into the fire for a long time, her mind filled with pain as she thought of all those terrible deaths. Because it was a terrible death, she’d been near enough to know that. Yet why did some in a house die while others remained untouched? He’d been keen on that theory, had Dr Flynn, the idea that living close to illness and getting a slight dose sometimes resulted in natural resistance. Wearily she prayed that other doctors would come along and pursue the same line of thinking. One day, it might be wiped out, all that awful suffering. But Dr Flynn would never know, would never make his contribution.
Edie came in unannounced with a plate apple pie. She studied her friend’s careworn face. ‘You know, then? About all the others, like?’
‘Yes. I was lucky, Edie. I’m keeping her here.’
‘I thought you might. She’s not long, has she? I saw her in the wig, like a dog with two tails, she is.’ She paused for a second or two. ‘Any more parcels by the way? It was him. I spotted his carriage the other day.’
‘None since Tuesday. I hope nobody sees him, for I don’t want to be giving the wrong impression about me and himself.’
Edie crossed to the fire and sat opposite this shrunken version of Ma Maguire. The flesh seemed to have melted away from her frame, leaving her spare and gaunt, a much older woman altogether. But the eyes remained the same, incredibly blue, uncomfortably penetrating. ‘Happen he’ll not bother you no more, love. You’re not the same girl,’ she said with her customary bluntness.
‘He never bothered me anyway, Edie . . .’
‘Oh aye? Tell that to the cat.’
‘I haven’t got a cat.’
‘I know.’
Philly looked down at her reduced body, noticing, not for the first time, how her clothes hung loose where once they fitted. ‘Anyway, no matter what he wants, he won’t get it here. He knows how we all feel about his mills and the slave wages he pays. So, if it’s a friendly ear he’s looking for, he must go elsewhere.’
Edie sighed loudly. ‘It wasn’t a friendly ear, love. It was you. You were beautiful and full of fight. His last one was a mill girl who clocked him across the bum with a yardbrush when he got a bit . . . interested, like. He set her up in a cottage, bought her all she needed . . .’
‘And what became of her?’
‘Oh, she’s still there. Once he sets you up, he carries on paying even after . . . well . . .’
‘After he’s grown tired?’
‘Aye, I suppose so. Mind, nobody bothers with her now . . .’
‘So you wouldn’t recommend it as a way of staying alive?’
‘No. And I know you’d never take him on anyroad.’
‘Then hush about Swainbank, will you? I believe I’m to start up in business under Freddie Chadwick’s roof? Did you have a hand in that too?’
‘Well I—’
‘I thought so. Howandever, for once, I shall go along with the majority decision. There’s something to be said for staying in the one place and doling out cures and advice. I can’t be putting Patrick at risk, can I? He’s improved of late, has he not? Less of the screaming.’
‘Yes.’ And not before time, thought Edie. Mother Blue had had a lot to do with Patrick’s changed behaviour, because she never gave in to him. While this one here was like soft clay in his hands. Edie opened her mouth to speak, but bit back whatever she had been about to utter when Philly placed a hand to her own lips. With a level of agility that was surprising in one so recently ill, she bounded to the door and threw it open.
‘Pick it up,’ she said sternly.
Edie rose from her seat and crept across the room, peering as best she could over her
Philly stared into the fire for a long time, her mind filled with pain as she thought of all those terrible deaths. Because it was a terrible death, she’d been near enough to know that. Yet why did some in a house die while others remained untouched? He’d been keen on that theory, had Dr Flynn, the idea that living close to illness and getting a slight dose sometimes resulted in natural resistance. Wearily she prayed that other doctors would come along and pursue the same line of thinking. One day, it might be wiped out, all that awful suffering. But Dr Flynn would never know, would never make his contribution.
Edie came in unannounced with a plate apple pie. She studied her friend’s careworn face. ‘You know, then? About all the others, like?’
‘Yes. I was lucky, Edie. I’m keeping her here.’
‘I thought you might. She’s not long, has she? I saw her in the wig, like a dog with two tails, she is.’ She paused for a second or two. ‘Any more parcels by the way? It was him. I spotted his carriage the other day.’
‘None since Tuesday. I hope nobody sees him, for I don’t want to be giving the wrong impression about me and himself.’
Edie crossed to the fire and sat opposite this shrunken version of Ma Maguire. The flesh seemed to have melted away from her frame, leaving her spare and gaunt, a much older woman altogether. But the eyes remained the same, incredibly blue, uncomfortably penetrating. ‘Happen he’ll not bother you no more, love. You’re not the same girl,’ she said with her customary bluntness.
‘He never bothered me anyway, Edie . . .’
‘Oh aye? Tell that to the cat.’
‘I haven’t got a cat.’
‘I know.’
Philly looked down at her reduced body, noticing, not for the first time, how her clothes hung loose where once they fitted. ‘Anyway, no matter what he wants, he won’t get it here. He knows how we all feel about his mills and the slave wages he pays. So, if it’s a friendly ear he’s looking for, he must go elsewhere.’
Edie sighed loudly. ‘It wasn’t a friendly ear, love. It was you. You were beautiful and full of fight. His last one was a mill girl who clocked him across the bum with a yardbrush when he got a bit . . . interested, like. He set her up in a cottage, bought her all she needed . . .’
‘And what became of her?’
‘Oh, she’s still there. Once he sets you up, he carries on paying even after . . . well . . .’
‘After he’s grown tired?’
‘Aye, I suppose so. Mind, nobody bothers with her now . . .’
‘So you wouldn’t recommend it as a way of staying alive?’
‘No. And I know you’d never take him on anyroad.’
‘Then hush about Swainbank, will you? I believe I’m to start up in business under Freddie Chadwick’s roof? Did you have a hand in that too?’
‘Well I—’
‘I thought so. Howandever, for once, I shall go along with the majority decision. There’s something to be said for staying in the one place and doling out cures and advice. I can’t be putting Patrick at risk, can I? He’s improved of late, has he not? Less of the screaming.’
‘Yes.’ And not before time, thought Edie. Mother Blue had had a lot to do with Patrick’s changed behaviour, because she never gave in to him. While this one here was like soft clay in his hands. Edie opened her mouth to speak, but bit back whatever she had been about to utter when Philly placed a hand to her own lips. With a level of agility that was surprising in one so recently ill, she bounded to the door and threw it open.
‘Pick it up,’ she said sternly.
Edie rose from her seat and crept across the room, peering as best she could over her
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