Page 95 of The Laudanum Ladies' Society

‘Yes, that’s not something I’m sure about either,’ Jenny said. ‘I shall have to seek advice.’

‘Why do you want to know? I told you that you received three hundred pounds, the capital to be invested by me and an annuity to be given to you.’

‘I would just like to see how my father worded it.’ Jenny felt excitement bubbling in her belly. This dissembling of her uncle’s was not the action of a man who had nothing to hide. ‘If you can’t lay your hands on the exact document, then please furnish me with the name of my father’s solicitor and I will ask my agent to inquire on my behalf.’

‘Your agent? When did you furnish yourself with an agent?’

Was it Jenny’s imagination or did Conrad look wary?

‘Since I turned thirty when I realised that I was forever going to be reliant on you. At that time, a friend happened to mention the amount of return that an investment would give me. Now, if you wish I can call my agent and he can talk to you, man to man. He is only waiting in the Bowness Bridge coffee house.’

Uncle Conrad glared at her. ‘I have given you a home and supported you since you were a child. I have educated you and given you a life of meaning.’

‘Yes, and I am, and will be, forever grateful for it. I do not wish to quarrel with you. You and I are the only relatives either of us has, after all. I would like to continue to be on good terms with you. But I need to understand this.’

She sat back and folded her arms, hoping that she had said everything she needed to.Don’t be afraid of silence, she reminded herself as she looked around the office. It was well-furnished with mahogany furniture and a thick rug that reached almost to the skirting boards. There were financial ledgers arranged neatly on shelves, one for each year, going back for as long as Conrad had owned the business; the same period that Jenny had lived with him, or thereabouts. At first there had been only one ledger for the original pharmacy, bound in red. But after five years it was joined by green volumes for the second business, and in the past two years, by deep blue, for the most recent investment.

Her tactic appeared to be working, because after a few moments of excruciating silence, Uncle Conrad’s mouth twitched. ‘Very well, I will supply the documents. I cannot do it today, however.’

‘Tomorrow will be acceptable,’ Jenny said, suppressing her relief and glee. ‘Thank you, Uncle Conrad. Now would you like me to order you another pot of coffee before I leave?’

‘Coffee should mask the taste of ingratitude. That you should turn on me like this is bitter indeed.’

Jenny stood up. ‘Then I shall also send for some cream.’

She hid her feelings until she had left the room, but then she skipped down the corridor in a most childish way, unable to believe that Mr Parry’s advice had worked so effectively. She hurried back to the coffee house where Mr Parry and Gwen were still waiting for her, and gleefully related her tale.

‘Well done, Jenny,’ Gwen said, taking her hand. ‘You’ve done wonderfully.’

‘Well, that remains to be seen,’ Jenny said. She rubbed her eyes, thinking of the bridges she had enthusiastically just burnt.

There was one more affair to deal with, so once they had bade farewell to Mr Parry, she walked arm in arm with Gwen in the direction of Miriam’s lodgings, where they would part.

‘I’m going to Wales with Mr Parry, Ruth and Bella,’ Gwen told her. She smiled while Jenny congratulated her. ‘He will simply be my employer. At least, at first, though who knows what the future may bring? I hope you and Miriam manage to reconcile.’

Sally wasn’t anywhere to be seen when Jenny knocked on the door, and her replacement admitted Jenny and escorted her up to Miriam’s room.

Miriam opened the door and, in response to Jenny’s unanswered question, told her that Sally had been grudgingly allowed back but was being watched closely by Mrs Godolphin as a precursor to her being returned to her home in Newcastle in disgrace.

‘It’s a shame, but she brought it on herself,’ Miriam said. ‘She’s very repentant, though.’

‘More than Ruth Wynn is, by the sounds of it,’ Jenny remarked, thinking of what Gwen had related on the walk here.

Miriam was dressed in her smock, with her hair wrapped in a headscarf. She wasn’t painting, however, but dusting and tidying. A pair of suitcases were open on the floor.

‘Are you going away already?’ Jenny asked. Her voice stuck in her throat.

‘Not today, but I’m getting my things in order,’ Miriam said.

They faced each other awkwardly. The closeness they’d rekindled over the course of the previous day felt like it had been slammed into one of the cases and shut.

‘We said we should talk,’ Jenny began.

‘I think you should just listen,’ Miriam said, gesturing to the chaise longue.

Jenny sat at one end. Miriam sat at the other, in what Jenny considered a pointed manner.

‘I said I did not like anybody taking opiates, and yet you carried on selling them– even worse, you sold them to somebody who used them to enslave women,’ Miriam said. Her tone contained such a depth of accusation and betrayal that no knife buried in her breast could have wounded Jenny deeper.