Morgan Cheshire Always With Us

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Morgan Cheshire

Always

With Us

UUL

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Published by Manifold Press

Text: © Morgan Cheshire 2013

Cover image: Detail from

Déchargement

d'un brick à Marseille (1876) by Alphonse

Moutte (1840-1913). (Source: Wikimedia
Commons.)

This image is in the public domain because its copyright has expired.
(This applies to Australia, the European Union and those countries
with a copyright term of life of the author plus 70 years.) This work is
in the public domain in the United States because it was first published
outside the United States and it was first published before 1978 without
complying with U.S. copyright formalities and it was in the public
domain in its home country on the URAA date (January 1, 1996 for
most countries).

E-book format: © Manifold Press 2013

For further details of titles

both in print and forthcoming see:

http://www.manifoldpress.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-908312-14-3

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Acknowledgements

Many thanks to my fantastic editor for

technical and creative help,

and to my friend Rita for unfailing support

and inspiration

Proof-reading and line editing:

W.S. Pugh

Editor: Fiona Pickles

Characters and situations described

in this book are fictional

and not intended to portray real

persons or situations whatsoever;

any resemblances to living individuals

are entirely coincidental.

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CHAPTER 1

Liverpool 1896

As he paused near the carriage-rank to catch his

breath and check his watch, Harrison Calderwood
knew that he should have left the office earlier; his
tardiness would certainly not improve his brother's
temper. He wiped his face with a white linen
handkerchief. Even the wind blowing up from the
river was warm, incapable of cooling the heavy
stickiness of what was probably the hottest day of
the year so far - and it was only the end of May.
This wasn't how he would have preferred to spend
his Saturday morning, but somehow Todd had
managed to persuade the owner of the Western Salt
Company to ship with them, and he had wanted to
get the details sorted out as quickly as possible.

It was not until he stopped moving that Harrison

noticed groups of men straggling across the road in
front of him, all of whom, like himself, were heading
for the docks, and it was another few moments after
that before the significance of the scene became
apparent to him; to judge from the intense
expressions on their faces and the placards they
were carrying, this could only be another strike. His
brother Todd had complained loud and long about
the disruption the city had been suffering for most
of the previous month, and surely this must be the
latest protest.

At the crossroads traffic was halted in all

directions, with shouts and cat-calls from drivers
and pedestrians and the neighing and stamping of

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horses adding to the cacophony. It was too late now
to take a different route, so he had no option but to
try to find a way through the chaos. Weaving
through the edges of the throng, therefore, Harrison
found himself being forced towards a cart which
had been drawn up across the road, in the bed of
which stood a man of roughly Harrison’s own age
and of a similar height and build. To judge from his
clothing he did not appear to be one of the dock
workers; instead he was neatly dressed in a suit and
waistcoat, although his dark hair was tousled and
untidy; he was addressing the crowd in clear and
resonant tones.

"Stand firm! Right is on our side. Now is the time

to fight, not surrender to the owners."

Harrison felt a shock of recognition; his whole

attention was focussed on the man, who spread his
arms to emphasise his words.

"You've stopped Jacobs shipping, nothing of

theirs is moving in or out of port. The owners are
helpless, they can do nothing without you. A few
more days and they will have to meet your
demands; they will have no choice!"

Harrison knew this man; he tried to remember

from where. What was his name? Harper, that was
it; he was chief clerk for Scott, Byrd and Company,
a fellow firm of solicitors in the city. Or, at least, he
had been; surely they would not be willing to put
up with such rabble-rousing behaviour on the part
of one of their employees?

There was movement in the crowd and a man

pushed his way forward. "It's all right for you," he
shouted. "Your kids ain't starving, crying all the time

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'cause they're hungry!"

Murmurs and shouts of agreement rose from the

crowd.

"I promise." Harper paused for effect. "I promise

that every child who is brought to the shelter will be
fed. You know me; you know you can trust my
word."

Roars of approval rose around him and, riding

the tide of sound, the speaker made one more
passionate appeal. "No cargoes will be moved! We
can win - and we will!"

It was a persuasive argument; Harrison himself

was mesmerised, almost convinced of the justice of
the men’s cause, so that the voice suddenly raised
close beside him came as a shock.

"’ere, this man’s a bloody spy!"
Pushed sharply from behind Harrison reached

out to try to steady himself, but fell against the man
standing front of him, who caught hold of him
roughly by the lapels of his coat.

"A spy for the bosses!"
"No. No, you're wrong, I’m nothing of the sort."
"Aye, nancy, we can all see what bloody sort you

are!" With no further warning the man drew back
his fist and punched Harrison in the face. The
sudden blow to his jaw snapped his head back and
he tasted blood as he fought to free himself from
several pairs of hands that held him. Staggering, he
clutched at his attacker and knew he had to stay
upright somehow - because if he didn’t, if he went
down, they would undoubtedly kill him.

Harrison’s feet were knocked out from under

him; he hit the cobbles elbow first, the pain from

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countless kicks and blows merging together into
one agony. Trying to protect himself, he had curled
defensively onto his side when he heard a voice
which he recognised as Harper’s.

"Let me through! Leave that man alone!"
"He’s a spy. He’s working for the bosses. He’s

one of them!"

"Don’t be ridiculous, Anderson, no self-

respecting spy would make himself that obvious.
Out of the way!"

The immediate crowd backed off slightly, and

Harrison could see his rescuer bending over him.

"Are you badly hurt?" asked Harper.
"I don't think so." Yet the truth was that he didn’t

really know the answer.

"Help me get him up," Harper instructed, and

grudgingly two of the men strong-armed Harrison
to his feet and pushed him in Harper’s direction.
Fire burned along his ribs, and he realised with
alarm that Harper's firm grasp was all that was
holding him upright.

On the far side of the crowd a cry went up. "It’s

the coppers!"

"Coppers! The police are here!"
Desperate to escape arrest and imprisonment,

the crowd surged to and fro. Confusion reigned,
men running in all directions, with shouts and the
strident sounds of police whistles filling the air.

"I must go." Harper glanced around. "The

officers will take you home."

"No," managed Harrison. "I don’t want any

involvement with the police."

Although clearly taken aback, Harper responded

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quickly. "Can you walk?"

"Yes."
“This way, then.”
Supported by Harper, and still clutching his ribs,

Harrison set off; his rescuer set a sharp pace,
keeping close to walls and shop fronts, turning in
and out of alleyways, while Harrison concentrated
on simply keeping up.

Soot-blackened, high-walled tenements closed

in around them, dimming the sunlight. Here the
salt tang of the open air was suffocated by rotting
vegetable matter, fish waste and cesspit stink, dirty
children played in the filth, and small knots of
ragged women watched suspiciously from darkened
doorways. Harrison lost all sense of direction as
they hurried from one noisome court into another.

Reaching the double doors of an old red-brick

hall Harper halted, pushed them open and, once
inside, manoeuvred Harrison towards an old
fashioned carver chair.

"We’ll be safe here,” he said. “How are you

feeling?”

Fighting to breathe, Harrison could not reply.
"You look terrible, I think you’d better lay down.

Father Ashmore, can you come and help me?"

A tall, thin man had been hurrying towards them

from the far end of the building, and between them
he and Harper managed to move Harrison to a cot-
bed at the side of the hall.

"What happened?" asked Ashmore.
"Bert Anderson decided Mr Calderwood here

was a spy."

"And is he?"

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"I doubt it, but we didn’t have time to argue the

point; the police broke up the meeting and I’ve
brought him here for his own safety."

Father Ashmore took this news remarkably

calmly. "I'll ask one of the women to make some
tea," was all he said in reply.

After the priest had left them, Harrison allowed

several moments to pass before attempting to open
his eyes. When he did so, he was almost
overwhelmed by dizziness; he felt as if the walls
were swaying dangerously towards him. Slowly his
senses cleared and he found he was in a large
white-washed room, at the far end of which a
number of people were gathered. "Where are we?"
he asked.

"Eden Street Temperance Hall. I help out here

from time to time."

A woman brought over a bowl of warm water;

Harper wrung out a cloth and began to wipe the
blood and dirt from Harrison's face. "I'm sorry about
what happened. Feelings are running a bit high at
the moment."

"On both sides, it seems."
Carefully Harper cleaned the swollen flesh

around one eye. "I'm Daniel Harper," he said,
almost as an afterthought.

"Yes, I know."
Harper rinsed the cloth and applied it again. "I

thought perhaps you would have recognised me,
Mr Calderwood."

"I remembered that I’d seen you somewhere

before - it was at Mr Byrd’s office in Dale Street.
Thank you for coming to my rescue."

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“It was the right thing to do; you could have

been badly injured.” Carefully Harper cleaned
Harrison’s cut lip and inspected the soon-to-be
black eye. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" he
continued, changing the subject.

"My ribs are bruised, and someone seems to

have trodden on my hand." Harrison flexed his
fingers experimentally, pleased to discover that they
would still bend.

Father Ashmore returned, bringing a tray of tea

which he set down on a nearby table. "I can't offer
you brandy,” he said, handing Harrison a mug.
“This is a Temperance building."

"That’s quite all right, thank you." Harrison

pulled himself up into a sitting position, unable to
suppress a groan of pain at the movement. He
accepted the mug from the priest, “It’s kind of you
to take so much trouble.”

“Not at all, my dear sir, that’s precisely what

we’re here for - to take trouble.” And with that he
walked away again, back to the far end of the room,
where he busied himself in what appeared to be a
kitchen alcove.

"Did I hear you call him 'Father'?" Harrison

asked. "I suppose that means that he’s Roman?"

"Yes, he is - and a great help to me. The Irish

trust him, though he comes from Lancaster and not
Leinster."

"Do you trust him, too?"
"Of course. We have the same background; I'm

from Walkden."

Harrison knew of the area; Walkden was one of

the ancient Catholic strongholds in Lancashire,

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which meant that Harper might well be Roman
Catholic himself. He was uncertain how he ought to
feel about this possibility; he had met several
Catholics in the course of business, but socially they
moved in very different circles and the two groups
rarely mixed.

Harper stood up. "You rest a while, I'll go and

help Father Ashmore."

Harrison watched him walk over to the kitchen,

then turned his attention to the other occupants of
the hall. Four older women, who appeared clean
and decently dressed, were busy in the kitchen; at
the other end of the room a fair-haired young
woman, helped by a child of about ten, had charge
of a group of small children and was reading to
them from a book.

Harrison was aware of the poverty that blighted

the city, and had read about the slums and the
benevolent organisations that tried to alleviate
suffering in the courts, but he had never fully
understood how bad conditions really were. Clearly
the hall in Eden Street was the centre for one of
these small, local charities.

Daniel returned to collect the empty mug. "How

do you feel now?"

"Much better, thank you."
"Good. I'm sorry this happened; they're not bad

men, you know, they're just frustrated and angry.
I'm afraid you were in the wrong place at the worst
possible time."

Harrison did not want to debate the morality of

attacking an innocent person, no matter how
frustrated one might be. "What is it you do here?" he

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asked instead.

Daniel pulled up a nearby chair and sat down.

"Little enough, I'm afraid."

"Nevertheless, please tell me - I'm interested."
"Our main task is to provide a hot meal at

midday, for the unemployed and their families. It’s
nothing fancy, just soup and bread and sometimes a
little extra when we can get it. Whatever we’re
given, really.”

“Oh, you mean like the 'Clarion Van' on St

George's Plateau?" Harrison had often seen the van
dispensing food to queues of people. "What do they
have to do to get a meal?"

"Arrive sober, nothing more than that. As Father

Ashmore said earlier, this is a Temperance Hall and
we have to abide by the rules."

"And what about the children?"
Harper's face clouded. "There's not much we can

do for them. We try to keep as many as we can off
the streets and teach them their letters and
numbers."

"Don’t they go to school?"
"They should, of course. The older ones are

supposed to attend the Board School but truancy is
a big problem; they and their parents think they
should be doing something to support the family."
Harper paused. "A lot of them turn to thieving
because there isn't any work to be had."

Although unable to condone criminal behaviour,

Harrison was beginning to see how someone could
be driven to steal simply in order to provide for his
family.

"My mother helps to support an orphanage,” he

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said, “financially and materially, but she feels she
can never really do enough; neither of you working
alone will ever be able to solve this problem."

"I know." Harper looked across at the group of

children. "Hopefully things will change, though,
when the authorities finally realise that your mother
and I are not really achieving anything; we’re only
saving those we can. What the city needs is
investment in housing, health and education, but
the sums of money required would be colossal -
and, until we get them, we'll just have to carry on
doing our best."

"And the strike? How did you become involved

in that?" Harrison was careful not to sound too
critical, but it was a big step from feeding the
hungry to actually taking part in an activity such as
a strike and he could not quite imagine how it
might have come about.

"It's all part of the same problem. The owners

can well afford to pay a living wage; they just don't
want to do it."

Harrison sighed; he was tired and his head was

aching, and this was too big a problem for him to
think about at the moment. "I should be going;
you're busy, and I need to get cleaned up."
Grimacing, he indicated the mud streaks on his
well-cut grey suit.

"Of course. I'll escort you to the carriage-rank."
Harrison accepted the offer with gratitude,

knowing he would never find his way out of the
labyrinth of courts by himself.

Curious stares followed the two men as they

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made their way through the tenements, past
barking dogs and line after line of washing.
Eventually, Harper asked the question Harrison
had been expecting. "So, why wouldn’t you wait for
the police?"

Harrison could not help smiling. "They would

have been sure to ask me if I’d recognised the
speaker," he replied.

“Oh, of course, I see! As an Officer of the Court,

lying to the police … "

" … is probably not advisable," Harrison

conceded. “I’m sure you know that.”

“I do,” smiled Harper in return, “and I'm

grateful for it."

They walked into sunlight as they rounded the

corner onto the main street, only a few yards from
the carriage-rank. There they paused, and Harrison
held out his hand to the other man. Harper took
hold of it firmly. "God speed," he said.

With a nod Harrison got into a cab and gave

directions to the driver. He leaned back against the
upholstery, wondering how Daniel Harper had
become so deeply involved in relieving the misery
of the poor, and how it fitted in with his regular
employment, but most of all just grateful to be
leaving such wretched scenes of deprivation far
behind him as he was driven away.

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CHAPTER 2

Less than half an hour after leaving town

Harrison arrived home, climbed the steps to the
front door and rang the bell. The butler, Grainger,
admitted him, eyes widening as he saw the
condition he was in. "Sir?" he enquired,
incredulously.

"I know," Harrison replied wearily. He went into

the hall. "Is Miss Alexandra at home?"

"No, sir, Miss Alexandra is out with Miss

Seward."

"Good." He began to climb the stairs. “I would

rather not encounter her just at the moment.”

"Will you be needing any help, sir?"
Harrison looked down into the worried face of

the servant, who was also an old friend, and nodded
thankfully. "Yes, I would appreciate that," he
admitted, as Grainger followed him upstairs and
into his bedroom. "I can manage here, but would
you run a bath for me, please?"

Grainger departed towards the bathroom and,

finally safe in his own room, Harrison managed to
undress and pull on the ancient blue dressing-gown
he adamantly refused to replace. He sat drowsing
in the fireside chair, exhausted by the effort.

"Your bath is ready, sir," said Grainger after a

short while.

"Thank you." Hopefully hot water would soak

away some of the aches and pains.

"Shall I ask Mrs Grainger to make you some tea,

sir?" the butler asked.

Harrison smiled, "No, thank you. I would prefer

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something a little stronger than tea."

"Shall I fetch the brandy, sir?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Are you quite sure you’ll be able to manage

alone?"

“I’ll call you if I need help,” Harrison promised.

He indicated his discarded garments, "You may find
it impossible to clean those, in which case … "

"I'll see that they’re given to the poor, sir."
“Thank you, Grainger.”
Left alone Harrison headed for the bathroom,

where he stripped off his dressing-gown and
stepped into the deep bathtub. Sliding into the
water he felt the warmth begin to sink into his
bones, relaxing tense muscles but making small
cuts and grazes sting. He closed his eyes,
luxuriating in comfort, washing away the sights,
smells and sensations of his recent adventure and
fully aware of his good fortune in being able to do
so.

Grainger came in quietly and placed a tray on

the chair beside the bath. "Your brandy, sir."

"Thank you."
"Is there anything else you require, sir?"
"Nothing, thank you." Harrison smiled

reassuringly. "The only injuries I have are the ones
you can see."

"And those, sir, are bad enough."
Grainger's silent disapproval as he withdrew

amused Harrison; if he had been badly hurt the
butler would have been all concern, but since he
clearly wasn't Grainger apparently felt that he had
no right to come home in such a disgraceful

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condition.

The brandy was warming. Before he could get

too comfortable and risk falling asleep, however,
Harrison climbed out of the bath and towelled
himself dry. He wrapped himself once more in his
dressing-gown and then combed his hair, realising
from his reflection in the steamed-up mirror that
there would be no possibility of hiding what had
happened and that therefore he had better have a
good story ready.

Retiring to his bedroom with what was left of the

brandy, Harrison settled himself again in the
fireside chair. The cold grate was filled for the
summer with a palmetto fan and Harrison's gaze
rested on it unseeingly, wondering once more how a
respectable solicitor's clerk could possibly have
come to the point of leading a strike meeting on the
Liverpool docks.

Elizabeth Calderwood stepped thankfully into

the cool tiled hall, stripping off her lace gloves and
removing her hat which she handed, with her silk
shawl, to the waiting butler.

"We need a good rainstorm, Grainger, to cool the

air."

"Yes, ma'am."
"Would you please ask Mrs Grainger to send in a

cold drink? I’ll be in the drawing-room."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied promptly, but remained

where he was.

She had been looking in the mirror, satisfying

herself that her silver-grey hair was still tidy, but
now she turned to face him. "Is there anything

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else?" she asked.

"It’s Mister Harrison, ma’am," he began,

carefully.

"Yes? Is something the matter?"
"He came home in a dreadful state about an hour

ago. He's upstairs in his room."

It was obvious to Elizabeth that Grainger was

not prepared to add anything further, and his
silence was troubling in itself. “Thank you,
Grainger. I'll go and speak to him now."

Tiredly, she climbed the wide stairs to her son's

room and knocked on the door. “Harry? May I come
in?” However she did not wait for a reply but went
straight in; she quickly closed the door behind her,
taking those few seconds to compose her expression
into neutrality. She had rarely seen her younger son
in such a dishevelled condition, and her immediate
response was astonishment.

"May I ask what happened to you?"
Harrison, struggling to his feet to greet her, was

unable to suppress a grimace of pain and sank back
down into the chair. His mother was at his side in a
moment, bending to inspect the damage, grateful
that it seemed to be no worse than a developing
black eye, a split lip and some rather colourful
bruises. As soon as she was satisfied with her
inspection she seated herself in the opposite chair.

"What happened?" she repeated.
Harrison sighed, clearly reluctant to speak, but

she was confident that he would eventually tell her
what she wanted to know; she was quite prepared
to wait all night if necessary, and he knew that as
well as she did.

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"I was mistaken for someone else, that’s all."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"I know it sounds far-fetched, but it's the truth. I

was on my way to meet Todd when I took a wrong
turning and ran into some trouble; it was just bad
luck, no more than that."

Aware that this was all the explanation she was

going to get, Elizabeth stood up. "I don't want
Alexandra's first sight of you like this to be across
the dinner table," she told him firmly. "Do you think
you will be able to come down to tea later?" She was
obliged to hide her amusement as panic washed
across his face. "There will only be the three of us,"
she reassured him. "I'll tell Grainger we're not at
home to visitors."

Unable to refuse, he nodded reluctant

agreement.

Elizabeth paused in the doorway. "Alex will want

a better explanation than mistaken identity and so
will I; you have an hour before tea to think of
something more convincing."

“Yes, Mother,” he answered, as she closed the

door between them.

Elizabeth hardly gave her niece time to get into

the room before saying, "Sit down, Alexandra,
before you start asking questions."

Not quite eighteen years old, the girl was tall

and slim, fair-haired and attractive. She had been
living with the Calderwoods for ten years, since the
deaths of her parents from cholera while in India,
and was treated very much as an indulged younger
sister. Her lively personality and enquiring mind

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meant that she was a good companion, although
her constant quest for information was not always
tempered with discretion. Her aunt's instruction,
however, and even more the use of her full name,
caused Alexandra to pause as she entered the
drawing-room.

"I don't have any questions, Aunt Elizabeth."
"You will have."
She went to sit beside her aunt and immediately

saw her cousin. "Harrison?" she queried in
bewilderment, receiving a fond half-smile in return.
"What happened?"

Before he had a chance to answer, the doorbell

rang.

"Harry,” she insisted impatiently, “what

happened?"

"It’s nothing, it was just an accident."
The door opened and Elizabeth glanced up to

see her elder son enter the room, just in time to
hear his brother's reply.

"Was it the strike?" demanded Todd.
Elizabeth saw the dismay on Harrison's face.
"Yes," he admitted.
Todd took a seat opposite Harrison, from where

he had a clear view of his brother's face; he did not,
however, make any comment about the damage it
had suffered. His mother poured a cup of tea and
handed it to him.

"Thank you, Mother. What the devil were you

doing down there, Harry?"

"You already know the answer to that; I was on

my way to your office, because you were too busy to
come up into town."

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"Yes, but did you really have to go straight

through the middle of it? Couldn’t you have found
another way?"

Harrison groaned, and Elizabeth was

immediately intrigued; this was obviously the sort
of conversation he would have preferred to avoid,
but Todd had always been persistent and even as a
boy he had wanted to have the last word - whatever
the argument.

"By the time I realised what was happening,”

Harrison replied, “it was already too late."

"You mean

you were too late, don’t you?"

"Yes, you’re right, I was. I was delayed leaving

the office."

“It wasn’t your brother’s fault,” said Elizabeth

firmly, feeling it was time for her to intervene before
Todd could respond and the argument could be
continued. “You’re home earlier than I was
expecting; we don’t usually see you at this time of
day.”

"That’s because when Harry didn't arrive I sent a

boy up to his office and he came back saying it was
closed. I wondered if he'd got tangled up in the
strike, but when I enquired at the police station
they told me there had been no bodies found and
nobody taken to the hospital, so I presumed he was
all right and would turn up eventually. When there
was still no sign of him after lunch, I decided the
best thing to do would be to come home."

Despite his tone, the decision to leave work early

was evidence of Todd's concerned affection. "Thank
you," said Harrison, clearly appreciating the
gesture.

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"Was anyone arrested?" asked Alex, ignoring her

aunt's warning look.

"No,” replied Todd. “The rats escaped back into

their holes again."

"Really!" remonstrated Elizabeth. “That remark

was quite uncalled-for. Those poor men do not
deserve to be called rats.”

"I'm sorry, but these endless strikes are

beginning to affect everyone."

"Then why not give them what they ask for?" said

Harrison. "It's little enough, after all."

It was apparent that Todd’s temper was

becoming rather strained. "You don't understand,"
he retorted irritably.

"No, I don't," replied Harrison. "Why don't you

explain it to me?"

"Enough!" Elizabeth rarely raised her voice, but

when she did her sons both knew that it was time to
abandon whatever argument they were involved in.
They did so now, resignedly, and Elizabeth turned
to her niece to change the subject. "Alexandra, why
don't you tell us about your visit to the art gallery
with Miss Seward?"

"Yes, Aunt," replied Alexandra, and launched

immediately into an enthusiastic and detailed
account of the expedition in the company of her
cousin Todd's fiancée.

Back in his office as normal the following

Monday morning, Harrison stared blankly at the
contract of sale on the desk in front of him; it was
due to go to the client that evening, but he could
not concentrate on it. Restless, he stood up and

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crossed to the window to look down on the busy
street. His encounter with Harper had left him
unsettled and with a vague feeling of failure. In the
past he had never thought a great deal about how
other people lived; his mother and cousin supported
an orphanage but he had always thought them to be
motivated by a generalised benevolence rather than
any authentic social conscience. He had been much
the same himself; he had signed petitions when
they were presented to him, and donated
generously through subscriptions to Charity Balls
and bazaars, but realised now that he had never
truly understood what poverty meant - not the kind
of poverty he had witnessed in the courts.

He returned to his desk and sat down; he had

seen the seen the truth for himself now, and he
knew he could no longer stand by and do nothing.
It was time to do something useful with his life,
something more than shuffling papers and looking
for ways to protect the interests of men already
wealthy and mainly concerned to ensure that they
were not outwitted by competitors.

He picked up the small brass bell from his desk

and rang for his chief clerk. Before he could make a
decision about what to do, he needed more
information.

"Come in, Mason. Close the door behind you."
The older man shut the door and came to stand

in front of the desk. "Sir?"

"I want you to find out about charities working in

the city."

Mason frowned, and Harrison could sympathise

with his misgivings; it was a Herculean task he had

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requested. "I don't need information about local or
church-funded schemes. What I want to know is
about the major charities, and what those in charge
of them are actually doing to improve the lives of
the poor."

"Yes, sir." He paused before asking, "And how

long do I have to obtain this information?"

Harrison smiled. Nothing ever ruffled Mason's

feathers. He wondered, not for the first time, what
he would do when his irreplaceable clerk would
eventually have to retire.

"Simply do your best, as always. I would like the

information as soon as possible, but I understand
that it might take some time."

Mason withdrew and Harrison's thoughts

returned to Daniel Harper, trying to imagine how
he could have become so deeply involved with the
people who came to the shelter for help. With a sigh
he brought his thoughts firmly back to the present;
he might find an answer to his questions in future,
but at the moment he had work to do. He began
once more to read through the neglected contract.

It was several days before Mason could produce

the results of his enquiries, and they did not
encourage any great confidence in the authorities.
Forty-plus years of work by the Central Relief
Society had achieved very little; there were several
hospitals, various institutions for the disabled,
orphanages, lodgings and training schemes, but
they were not dealing with the basic causes of
deprivation. Inadequate housing, lack of
employment, poor health and education had not

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received any noticeable attention. Studying the
facts and figures it was clear that civic, if not
governmental, intervention was needed to remedy
this, so why was nothing being done?

Daniel Harper's soup kitchen was like the Dutch

boy in the story trying to hold back the might of the
ocean - but with even less prospect of success.

"You're very quiet tonight," said Elizabeth.

Although Harrison had taken

Little Dorrit down

from the bookcase he had not read even a page of
it.

He looked across to where his mother was busy

sewing a length of

broderie Anglaise to a small

calico petticoat. It was one of the things she insisted
on; that the girls in the orphanage should own
something pretty. Her willingness to do the extra
sewing involved herself made him wonder if he had
misunderstood her actions in the past and what her
attitudes to charity truly were.

"I met someone." Her quizzical look drew a smile

from him. "A man."

"Now you disappoint me."
He ignored her teasing reference to his bachelor

status. "He's doing his best to help and support
people who are so desperately poor I couldn't even
imagine it."

"Go on." She returned her attention to her

sewing, but listened carefully.

"How much difference do you think his work,

and yours, actually makes?"

Elizabeth cut off the thread and replaced her

needle safely in the pin cushion. "None." She

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paused before adding, "Except to the individuals
immediately affected."

"That was the conclusion I had arrived at

myself."

"Why do you want to know what I think?" she

asked him, curiously.

"I want to help Mr Harper."
"Help him how?"
"Personally, materially. To try to get the City

Fathers to actually do something to help the people
they are supposed to represent and be responsible
for."

Slowly Elizabeth folded up the petticoat, taking

her time before asking, "Have you spoken about
this to your brother?"

"No."
"You know he won't approve."
Harrison sighed. The last thing he wanted was a

confrontation with Todd, but it was probably
inevitable. "I'm sorry for that, but I can't back down
because of it."

"I understand - but, please, try to be a little

diplomatic."

"I can only promise that I'll do my best," he

assured her with a smile.

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CHAPTER 3

A quiet moment in the office gave Harrison a

chance to consider what he should do. Before he
could offer any help to Harper he needed to find out
whether it would be acceptable; there was no
experience in his past that he could draw on for
help, however, and the only way forward that he
could see was to approach Harper directly. He had
thought about writing to him in care of his
employers but had eventually decided against it,
unsure how Byrd would react to a member of his
staff receiving private correspondence; most of the
businessmen he knew would have strong
objections. There was no alternative, therefore; he
would just have to go to the shelter. He was uneasy
about going into the courts alone, though, and there
was only one other person he could think of who
might be willing to accompany him. He reached
forward to ring the bell before he could change his
mind.

Mason came in answer to the summons. "Yes,

sir?"

"Please, sit down for a moment." Harrison waited

until the older man was settled. "You've worked for
me for a long time, Mason."

"Yes, sir."
"When I first opened this office I confess I would

have been lost without your experience and
assistance." He paused. "What I am going to ask
you to do is far beyond what could be reasonably
expected, and I will understand if you refuse."

Mason hesitated and Harrison could tell he was

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wondering what the consequences of this unknown
request might be.

"What it is you want me to do, sir?"
"I intend to go into the dockland slums to look

for someone. When I find them, I want to try and
help with their charity work. I would appreciate it if
you could accompany me there this Saturday
morning."

He was silent, allowing his clerk time to

consider the risks involved.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Mason asked,

cautiously.

"I know very well that it isn't. I can go alone if

you feel you can't accompany me." It was blatant
blackmail, and he knew it, but it worked.

"What time on Saturday, sir?" asked Mason,

clearly reluctantly.

"Thank you. Having you with me will make a

considerable difference. Meet me here at ten
o'clock."

Mason paused at the door. "Please excuse the

impertinence, sir, but is your family aware of your
intentions?"

"No. I will, however, confess everything when I

return home on Saturday."

"I see." Without any further comment, Mason left

him.

Harrison sighed. Mason had the right to be

worried; what he was proposing to do was probably
insane, but he could see no choice other than to go
ahead with what he knew to be the right course of
action.

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"What did Mrs Mason say?" Harrison asked his

clerk as they walked along Lord Street the following
Saturday morning.

"I didn't tell her where I was going. I simply said

there was extra work to do."

"Well, hopefully what we have to do won't take

very long."

They left the main road and took the side road,

where Harrison had engaged a cab; an even
smaller side road led them into the rabbit warren of
narrow streets and alleyways that ran behind the
fashionable shops; only a few yards away people
were enjoying an ordinary day, shopping or
meeting friends, but here was a very different
world, where they were assaulted by the smell of
drains and chilled by the damp that pervaded the
courts even in the warmth of June. Harrison had
known roughly what to expect, but that did not
make the experience any less uncomfortable.

Questions about Daniel Harper, or about the

soup kitchen, were ignored. They were sworn at,
cursed, solicited by street-walkers and asked for
money, but no one admitted that they knew
anything at all about Harper. Mason's discomfort
was becoming painfully obvious when finally there
was a guarded admission.

"Aye, I know him. What's it worth?" asked a lad

lounging in the entrance to one of the courts.

Mason took a step forward, angered by the boy's

insolent tone, but Harrison caught hold of his
sleeve to restrain him. "I will decide what it's worth
if we actually find him, or Father Ashmore."

The boy eyed them suspiciously, then pushed

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away from the wall that supported him and turned
into the alleyway. "I'll take you. Follow me."

They went further into the cavernous courts,

losing track of the twists and turns as they followed
their guide to the grimy red-brick hall Harrison
remembered.

"Thank you." True to his word, Harrison

produced a shilling in payment.

After testing its authenticity with his teeth, the

lad grinned. "Ta! Any time you wants any 'elp, just
ask for Jimmy Watts."

Watts disappeared back into the labyrinth and

Harrison turned to his companion. "Ready?"

"Happier now that we've arrived," Mason

admitted sheepishly.

Harrison pushed open the door and they went

in, waiting inside the entrance until their eyes
became accustomed to the gloom.

There were women busy in the kitchen again,

but Harrison could not tell if they were the same
group he had seen before. He thought however that
it was the same young woman he had seen with the
children; her fair hair had reminded him of
Alexandra. Today she was talking to a group of
youths, but seeing them she sent over one of the
boys.

Separated from the safety of the group he

approached warily. "Yes?"

"I was here a few days ago. I'm looking for Mr

Harper."

"'e ain't 'ere."
"Is Father Ashmore here?"
The boy looked back to the girl, obviously

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doubtful about answering any questions. She left
the group and came over to them. "Can I help?"

"I asked if Father Ashmore was here, or Mr

Harper."

"Mr Harper isn't here yet. Frank, go and find

Father."

The boy left and the girl gave a slight curtsey.

"I'm Rebecca Connors."

"My name is Calderwood." He smiled at her. "I

remember you were teaching some small children
when I was here before."

"I do most of the teaching; letters and numbers,

that is."

"I'm sure you are a big help to Mr Harper."
She smiled, obviously pleased. "Can I get you

some tea?"

"No, thank you, we'll wait." He indicated the

boys watching them curiously. "I think you'd better
return to your class."

Another bob of a curtsey and she left them; they

could see her fending off questions from the boys.

"I don't know about this, sir," ventured Mason,

looking uneasily around the hall.

"If you are really unhappy about being here, I

won't ask you to help further."

"But?"
"But … doing this would be so much easier if I

had you to rely on."

Mason shuffled his feet. "You do know blackmail

is illegal, sir?" he pointed out in mild reproof.

Before Harrison could answer, Father Ashmore

arrived, slightly out of breath from hurrying. "Mr
Calderwood."

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Harrison shook the extended hand. "This is my

clerk, Mr Mason."

The priest nodded. "How do you do, sir?"
Mason also shook hands, and then Ashmore

turned once more to Harrison. "You're looking a lot
better than the last time I saw you, Mr
Calderwood."

"Thank you, and thank you again for your help

that day." Harrison paused, wanting to make the
purpose of their visit clear. "We've come to see Mr
Harper."

"He should be here very soon; he spends

Saturday morning with his son, but he'll be here
before I have to leave to hear confession. Please,
come and sit down, perhaps I can help."

"You're very kind, but I would prefer to speak to

Mr Harper in person, if I may."

"Yes, of course. I'll send some tea over for you."
Mason seemed to be about to object, but

Harrison thought perhaps they might look less
conspicuous while drinking tea and spoke first.
"Thank you."

"Confession?" asked Mason when the priest was

out of hearing.

"I promise he won't try to convert you," said

Harrison with a smile.

"No, sir," agreed Mason wryly. "He had better

not."

They had finished their tea by the time Harper

arrived, to be met at the door by Father Ashmore.
He tried to conceal his surprise on seeing Harrison,
but it was obvious to both the visitors.

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Harper bade Father Ashmore goodbye and as,

the priest left, came over to meet them,
accompanied by a boy of about eleven years old.

"Mr Calderwood, Mr Mason."
Mason nodded a reply, but Harrison held out his

hand. Harper took hold of it, his handshake firm.

Breaking the contact, Harper introduced the boy.

"This is my son, Joseph."

The slightly-built boy resembled Harper, but had

fair hair. He shook hands politely. "Hello, sir."

"Joe, go and help Rebecca for a little while, will

you? I won't be long."

"Yes, sir."
They all watched as the group of youths

absorbed the younger boy, and then Harper turned
back towards his guests. "How can I help you?"
Realising they were still standing, he smiled
apologetically and pointed to the bench they had
occupied earlier. "Please, sit down."

"First of all," began Harrison, "I would like to

thank you for your assistance last week. If you
hadn't been there … "

"But I was," interrupted Harper, "and I'm very

sorry for what happened to you."

Harrison waved away the apology. "I'm here to

ask if there is any way in which I can return the
favour; any way that I could help, if you will allow
me to?" he added as Harper frowned
uncomprehendingly.

There was no immediate reply. Instead, Harper

asked, "Would you like some tea?"

Harrison glanced at Mason, who shook his

head; amused by the vehement response, Harrison

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refused the offer. "No, thank you, we've already had
some refreshment."

Deprived of a distraction, Harper was obliged to

address the offer Harrison had made. "What exactly
is it that you are proposing?"

Direct and to the point, Harrison appreciated

that; he was more used to men who used far too
many words to say very little. He considered his
answer.

"I confess that what I saw last week was a

revelation. I knew, of course, that there was poverty
in the city," he paused, "but I didn't understand
what poverty truly was. It was only a word, like
'charity', and only related to donations of money at
fund-raising events."

"And now?"
"Now, I'm far more aware of the depth of that

poverty and its attendant problems, however -
which are, I believe, far beyond the scope of any
private beneficence." Harper straightened slightly
as if challenged, and Harrison hurried to add, "I do
not belittle what you do here, but it's clear to me
that far more is needed. I asked Mr Mason to do
some research on my behalf, and found that in the
forty years of its existence the CRS has hardly
scratched the surface of the problems these people
face."

"Do you truly think I am unaware of that?"

demanded Harper.

"No, of course I don't, but I wanted you to know

that I understand the magnitude of the problem we
are facing."

"We?"

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Harrison nodded. "What is needed is

governmental and civic legislation - to force
landowners to be responsible for their property,
ensuring that it's in good repair and that the drains
function properly. We also need health care and
education to be available to everyone." He paused.
"I can help with money, and I will - but more
importantly I can talk to people, write to the
newspapers, lobby MPs and councillors."

Harper seemed to be considering what Harrison

had said. "Are you planning a political career, then,
Mr Calderwood?"

"No. Why would you ask that?"
"Action against poverty would make a good

platform. It would make you very popular."

"Mr Harper!" remonstrated Mason, clearly

shocked at the very suggestion.

Harrison held out his hand. "It's a legitimate

point of view," he acknowledged. Then he turned to
Harper. "Completely unfounded, however; my sole
objective is to help the poor people of this city in
any way I can, and I'm not convinced that
Parliament is the appropriate battleground for that -
too many vested interests."

He withstood Harper's searching gaze without

any further comment, but was much relieved when
the other man's expression changed to one of
acceptance.

"Thank you, Mr Calderwood, your assistance

will be appreciated." He glanced at Mason. "And I
apologise for my suspicions."

Harrison smiled and held out his hand.

"Gentlemen's agreement?"

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"Gentlemen's agreement," repeated Harper, his

hand resting in Harrison's. "I'll get someone to show
you the way out."

"I would appreciate that." Harrison knew there

was a much shorter route to the main road and
intended to be able to follow it on his return to the
shelter in the future.

Several weeks after his interview with Harper,

Harrison entered the dining-room of his home one
morning even more hurriedly than usual. "Sorry I'm
late," he said.

Elizabeth glanced up and smiled at him. "Good

morning."

Harrison's answering smile was apologetic.

"Good morning, everyone." He crossed to the
sideboard to collect his breakfast before sitting
down, preparing to enjoy his selection of scrambled
eggs, bacon and toast.

Todd picked up the newspaper that lay folded

beside his place. "I presume you have already seen
this?"

"I don't know. What is it?"
"This morning's

Mercury."

Aware of what was coming, Harrison busied

himself buttering a slice of toast. "No, I haven't seen
it yet."

"But you know what's in it, I presume?"
Elizabeth glanced from one to the other, her

attention caught by the note of censure in Todd's
voice. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," replied Harrison.
"Nothing?" repeated Todd, his voice rising. He

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slapped the paper against the table. "I'd like an
explanation, please."

Alexandra began to take an interest in the

conversation. "I don't understand, Todd, what does
the

Mercury have to do with us?"

"It contains an article written by Harrison,"

explained her cousin.

"Really? Why didn't you tell us you were writing

for the newspapers?" she asked excitedly, looking at
Harrison in a new light, oblivious to the tense
atmosphere around her.

"Yes, Harrison, why didn't you tell us? After all

this isn't the first time, is it?"

Even Alexandra finally realised Todd was really

and truly angry; she glanced nervously towards her
aunt, but Elizabeth's concentration was wholly on
her sons.

"I should have thought you had quite enough to

occupy yourself, without scribbling newspaper
articles as well," Todd said, accusingly.

"I refuse to argue about it," countered Harrison.

"I don't need your permission, and I don't need to
defend my actions to you or to anyone else."

"Normally I'd agree with you, but not about this."
"What do you mean?" asked Elizabeth. "I know

Harrison has written other articles - which,
presumably, you saw but did not comment on."

"Have you read them?"
"Of course I have."
"Then you know what I'm talking about. I am

one of the people my own brother is attacking."

"Not you personally, Todd; I mentioned no

names."

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"Not by name, no, but certainly you're attacking

me by inference!"

"If you recognise that, then why don't you do

something about it? Put your house in order as
regards paying your workers a decent wage." Even
as he spoke, Harrison knew he was being unfair;
after all, Todd did not pay his men as little as he
could get away with and then claw half of that back
in fines like some employers did.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" exploded Todd. "Don't

forget that you benefit from the business as much as
the rest of us."

"Are you telling me you disagree with what I've

written?"

Todd took a deep breath then, to Harrison's

relief, shook his head. "No, of course not. Not all of
it."

"Then there has to be something else that has

upset you," observed Elizabeth evenly. "How many
people remember today what they read yesterday?"

"Thank you, Mother," murmured Harrison, wryly.
"You know it's true, Harry; that's why you keep

on writing."

"You already knew about all this?" asked

Alexandra, naïvely.

"Of course I knew, and if you read anything more

than the society pages you would have known as
well." She returned her attention to her eldest son.
"What has happened now?" she asked.

"This." Todd indicated the newspaper. "This is

only the tip of the iceberg."

"Go on."
"Every time one of these articles is printed I am

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asked why my brother is carrying out a campaign
against the council, against businessmen I have to
negotiate with, even against elected Members of
Parliament."

Alexandra stared at Harrison.
"They are under the impression," continued

Todd, "that Harrison has adopted the creed of
socialism."

Elizabeth waited, but Harrison did not defend

his actions. Therefore she spoke again. "I can
appreciate your difficulties," she said, soothingly.

"But?" It was clear from her tone that there was

more to come.

"But, of course, Harrison must be allowed to do

whatever he thinks is right."

"Even if it is undermining the family?" Never the

most patient of men, Todd was clearly struggling to
maintain his temper.

"Todd," began Harrison, but was interrupted

brusquely.

"Your actions affect all of us; how many families

will want a daughter-in-law who has associations
with socialism, for example, however unfounded the
rumour might be? I'm lucky Caroline's father has a
broader outlook on life than most men of his
generation."

Realising that Todd was referring to her own

marriage prospects, Alexandra asked - innocently
but with some anxiety - "What's wrong with
socialism?"

"You see?" Todd stood up and threw his napkin

onto the table. He glared at his mother. "You see
where this is leading?"

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It was Harrison who spoke first, however. "I'm

sorry you find my actions so upsetting, Todd, but I
fully intend to continue what I've started."

"I have to go to work." Abruptly Todd left the

room, with no other word of goodbye to any of
them.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Harrison apologised. "I had

no idea he would take it all quite so badly."

"Todd is probably right about you making life

difficult for him," replied Elizabeth, thoughtfully,
"but that's not a good enough reason for you to stop
doing what you think is right. He worries about us
all, and about the business too, and I know he
worries about you going into the slums to visit the
shelter." She paused. "I also know that you've seen
for yourself what you're fighting against, and Todd
has not."

"I'm sorry, but I seem to have lost my appetite as

well." Harrison got up and went to the head of the
table, bending to kiss his mother's cheek. "I'll see
you tonight." He smiled at his young cousin. "Try
and explain socialism to baby Alex, won't you?"

"Go to work," answered Elizabeth, not entirely

displeased with him.

He was just in time to see Alexandra leaning

forward in her chair as the door closed. "Aunt
Elizabeth," she asked, innocently, "what

is

socialism, and why is Todd so very much against it?"

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CHAPTER 4

Harrison's arrival at the shelter went unnoticed.

He relished the relative coolness of the building,
despite the fact that the July heat drew odours from
the brickwork that he would rather not think about.

Daniel and Rebecca were sitting with a woman

who was swathed in a shawl; Rebecca held a
comforting arm around her.

He hesitated to join them, but Daniel beckoned

him over and spoke to the woman. "You recognise
Mr Calderwood, don't you, Violet?"

She nodded, fresh tears sliding silently down her

bruised face.

Harrison seated himself on a crate beside

Daniel's chair. "How can I help?"

"You remember the men who attacked you?"

Harrison nodded and Daniel continued, "This is the
wife of one of them; Violet Armstrong."

"Mrs Armstrong," acknowledged Harrison.
Daniel answered the question in his eyes.

"Domestic violence isn't uncommon. It's almost a
way of life for some poor women."

The woman had been pretty once. Now, pale and

thin-faced, dirty blonde hair straggling free, she
would be a pitiable sight even without the black eye
and the cut lip.

Harrison's voice was gentle. "Is there nowhere

you can go, no-one to take you in?"

"He'd find me. Kill me, like as not." She turned to

hide her face against Rebecca's shoulder.

"Are there any children?"
"Two," answered Daniel. "They're with a

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neighbour; she didn't dare bring them here in case
they said something to him about it."

"I see. Mrs Armstrong?" Harrison waited until he

could see her face again. "Is there nobody at all that
you can call on for help?"

"Me brother, but he's up in Shropshire." She

twisted her hands together. "He won't want me and
the kids."

"Why not?"
She bit her lip. "Ran away, didn't I? Argued with

him and ran away."

"Have you tried to contact him?"
She shook her head and Rebecca spoke up for

her. "Violet knows her numbers, but she never
learned to write."

"I didn't know she had a brother," put in Daniel.

"She always maintained there was no-one."

"There isn't! He don't want me."
"Does your husband know about your brother?"

asked Harrison quietly.

She shook her head. "Never cared enough to

ask."

"Would you like me to write to your brother on

your behalf? Your husband will know nothing about
it. If I can persuade your brother to take you back,
are you willing to go to him?"

She looked to Rebecca who nodded

encouragingly. "Yes," she whispered almost
unwillingly.

Harrison smiled at her. "You give Rebecca the

name and address and we will do everything we
can to help."

Rebecca nodded. "Come on, come and get some

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hot tea; that one's gone cold."

Violet allowed herself to be led away, watched by

the two men.

"I suppose she and Armstrong are legally

married?"

"Yes. She wouldn't even consider going home

otherwise."

Harrison sighed; you could multiply Violet

Armstrong a thousand times or more, yet there was
very little sympathy for their plight. Those who
believed that it was a wife's duty to obey and
support her husband in everything would have sent
her back and left her to her fate, firmly convinced
that they were doing God's work. In the face of such
indifference, how many of these women would ever
find the refuge or the help they needed?

"We do what we can," said Daniel quietly, as if

reading his thoughts.

"It'll never be enough." Harrison ran his fingers

wearily through his hair, leaving it disordered. "I'd
better be going."

Daniel stood up at the same time and stepped

forward, lessening the gap between them.
"Harrison?"

In spite of the gravity of the moment Harrison

smiled. This was the first time Daniel had used his
given name; perhaps it was a sign that he had
finally been accepted into this tightly-knit
community.

"Yes?" He saw Daniel hesitate and said

encouragingly, "You know you can ask me
anything."

"I'd like to invite you to have dinner … at my

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house," was the somewhat surprising rejoinder.

Genuinely pleased with the invitation, Harrison

smiled broadly. "I would be very pleased to accept."

Visibly relaxing, Daniel continued. "If you have

no objection, my son will join us; we always have
our evening meal together."

"Certainly."
Daniel took a small notebook from his pocket

and scribbled down his address. He handed the
torn-out page to Harrison. "Would Friday at half-
past-six be suitable?"

Harrison did not hesitate; whatever else was

happening that day, it took second place to this
unexpected invitation. "Perfectly suitable." He held
out his hand. "I'll see you both then."

Their parting handshake lasted only a shade

longer than was customary, but it warmed
Harrison's heart to a quite unexpected degree.

Later that day Harrison waited for a gap in the

usual exchange of news over the dinner table before
broaching the subject of his proposed visit to Daniel
Harper.

"By the way, Mother, before I forget to tell you, I

won't be home for dinner on Friday evening."

"May we ask why?" she enquired with interest.
"I've received an invitation." She looked the

question at him, and he smiled. "Daniel Harper,
from the shelter."

Immediately he had Todd's complete attention.

"Where are you intending to go?"

"Why?" asked Harrison amused. "Are you afraid

someone will see us?"

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"

Harry," warned his mother.

He turned to speak directly to Todd. "Your

reputation is safe. Your brother will be dining
discreetly at Mr Harper's home."

Volatile as ever, Todd threw his napkin onto the

table like a gauntlet. "This is intolerable!"

"Why?"
Glancing towards the closed door, Todd lowered

his voice slightly. "I've known and admired
Grainger for years, but I wouldn't ask him to share a
meal with me; he wouldn't be happy and neither
would I."

"It isn't quite the same," began Alexandra.
"Nonsense! It's exactly the same." He turned to

Harrison, "Do you intend to return the compliment
and invite him here?"

"Probably, if Mother agrees."
Todd turned to her in silent appeal for some

sanity.

"It hasn't happened yet," she pointed out mildly.
"You can't tell me you approve!"
Her voice was firm. "What I approve of, Todd, is

the fact that Harrison has found someone who
shares his views, and I see no reason to discourage
such a friendship. Mr Harper appears to be
perfectly respectable."

Todd retrieved his napkin and returned his

attention to his dinner. "Well, you all know my
feelings on the subject."

"And you also know mine," his mother replied

quietly. Turning her attention to her niece,
Elizabeth brought the conversation back to less
controversial matters. "Alexandra, I believe you and

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Miss Seward are planning to go to the theatre next
week?"

Despite asking the question Elizabeth only half-

listened to the answer. Her attention was on the two
men; they were so alike in so many ways - dark-
haired like their father, they both had his stubborn
temperament, and once an idea took hold of them
they did not let it go easily. That was why they
always argued so much.

Todd returned to the subject of Harrison's

proposed visit more than once in the days that
followed. Nevertheless, Harrison set off precisely on
time that Friday evening, and twenty minutes' walk
downhill from his home brought him into a different
world, the quiet peacefulness of the large square
with its trees and gardens replaced by the busyness
of Duke Street, one of the main roads out of the city.

He found Daniel's lodgings easily enough; they

were in a narrow three-storey building sitting
modestly between much larger premises. Its
appearance would have reassured even his brother,
he thought with a smile; it sang of respectability,
from the snowy lace curtains and shining door-brass
to the freshly whitened front step.

Suddenly nervous, he crossed the road and

knocked on the door. It was opened by a tall, thin
woman, her grey hair twisted up into a bun.

"Good evening. My name is Calderwood," he

said. "I'm here to see Mr Harper."

She opened the door fully. "Please to come in,

sir." Closing the door safely behind them she
accepted Harrison's hat and gloves and placed

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them on the hall table. "Mr Harper's room is
upstairs, sir, if you'll follow me."

One flight up she tapped at the door, waiting for

it to be opened before saying, "Mr Calderwood is
here."

"Thank you, Mrs Foxley." Joseph opened the

door further and smiled at Harrison. "Please come
in; my father won't be very long."

Harrison waited while the boy closed the door,

then held out his hand. "Good evening, Joseph."

The offered handshake was accepted with shy

gravity, then he ushered Harrison to an easy chair
by the fireside, a tapestry-work fire-screen
disguising the empty grate behind.

"Would you like a drink, sir?"
"I'm happy to wait until your father is home,"

Harrison said politely.

He looked around the room. It was comfortable

and clean, if a little worn, and approximately half
the area was taken up by a sideboard and a dining
table laid ready for dinner. There was another
armchair opposite, with a desk and chair near the
window.

"Have you lived here long?"
"Five years, I think."
"It's very comfortable."
"Dad's room is through there, mine's across the

landing," began Joseph, but before he could enlarge
on these domestic arrangements they heard the
sound of feet pounding up the stairs; seconds later,
the door flew open.

"I'm so sorry." Daniel stripped off his outer

garments as he spoke, handing them to his son.

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"There was a problem at the shelter."

"And you're the one they always send for?"
He nodded. "More often than not. I hope Joe has

been looking after you."

"He's been a perfect example of hospitality."
"Good. I can't say how glad I am to see you

here."

"I'm very glad to be here," responded Harrison,

wondering at Daniel's nervousness. At the shelter,
and in court, he had only ever seen him in complete
control both of himself and of the situation.

"You don't have a drink."
"I told Joseph I would wait until you arrived

home."

"I can offer you sherry or whisky; I don't keep

brandy, I'm afraid."

"Whisky would be more than welcome. Thank

you." Harrison accepted the glass, and when Daniel
was also supplied raised it in a toast. "Your very
good health."

Daniel raised his glass in response. "Your

health."

Harrison took a cautious sip of the spirit; it was

rougher than his own brand, but by no means
unpalatable.

The alcohol seemed to have a calming effect on

Daniel's nerves and he settled in the opposite chair.
"I'll send Joe down in a minute or two to ask Mrs
Foxley to serve dinner," he said.

"He tells me you've lived here for five years,"

began Harrison, in an easy conversational tone.

"Almost. We moved to the city when my wife

died."

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"I'm sorry, please accept my condolences on your

loss." Harrison sipped his whisky thoughtfully. In
his experience, most bereaved men with children
quickly found another woman to care for the family.

"I wanted to give Joe the chance to attend a

decent school."

The low rumble of a passing cart floated in

through the partially-open window, carried on the
warm breeze that stirred the lace curtains.

"I think we'll be in for some thunder later,"

observed Daniel, to change the subject.

"I hope not," replied Harrison with a smile,

"although it certainly seems to punctuate our
meetings."

Daniel returned the smile, remembering that

first encounter and the cloudburst that had followed
the heat later in the day. "I'll go and winkle Joe out
of his room and we'll order dinner," he said, getting
to his feet with restless energy.

Daniel relaxed considerably while they were

eating Mrs Foxley's oyster pie. Joseph entertained
them with tales from school, and Harrison found
himself drawn more and more into the warmth of
the close relationship between father and son; he
could not recall his own father ever being so
relaxed in his sons' company. When he and Todd
were finally allowed to eat with their parents they
had to do so in silence; they could listen and learn
but not speak, except occasionally to say 'please'
and 'thank you'.

With dinner over they retired with their drinks to

the fireside chairs, while Mrs Foxley cleared the

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table and chatted to Joseph; she and the Harpers
clearly had a closer association than simply that of
landlady and tenant.

Joseph came over to them when she had gone.

"Dad?"

Daniel smiled at his son. "Not tonight, Joe; we

have a guest."

Joseph nodded his understanding, but could not

hide his disappointment.

"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Daniel assured him.
"I was hoping we could play a game," said

Joseph, resigned but hopeful, glancing from his
father to their guest.

"I'm sure Mr Calderwood doesn't want to be

bothered with … "

"How do you know I don't want to be bothered?"

challenged Harrison, with a smile. He turned his
attention to Joseph. "Did you have something in
mind?"

"

Beggar My Neighbour, or Old Maid."

"All right, I know both of those."
Joseph rushed off the find the cards.
"Thank you," said Daniel appreciatively.
"For what?" Harrison teased. "Enjoying myself?"
"There aren't many men who would be quite so

patient with a child."

"My cousin is quite the young lady now, but I

can well remember when she was Joseph's age,"
recalled Harrison fondly. "She was always
dragooning one or other of us into playing card
games with her; I quite miss it, now that she's
grown up."

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"I found them!"

Joseph bounded enthus-

iastically back into the room, destroying the
peaceful atmosphere.

"Good, but I think you could be a little quieter."
Harrison smiled at this exchange. "Well, why

don't we begin before it gets too late?" he
suggested, tactfully.

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CHAPTER 5

After that first dinner, Harrison and Daniel spent

more and more time in each other's company,
attending to business at the shelter or enjoying days
out with Joseph at the great parks Liverpool was so
justly proud of. The deer herd at Sefton filled him
with wild excitement, and he almost fell in while
they were rowing on the lake at Newsham. Daniel,
however, preferred quiet evenings in the Duke
Street lodgings. He looked forward to being with
Harrison, who was good company, and his easy
companionship filled a void in his life he had not
even been aware of - a need for someone to share
things with, someone who was sympathetic and
mature and who didn't think he was wasting his
time helping at the shelter.

Harrison's ready smile and clear blue gaze were

very attractive. Daniel knew it was hopeless, and it
was a long time since he had even thought of
taking a male lover, but Harrison Calderwood had
brought all the old desires back to life. Daniel was
afraid his feelings might one day get the better of
him and ruin everything but - like a moth to a
candle - he could not seem to keep away from him.

It was only weeks since they had first had dinner

together, but they had quickly fallen into the way of
old friends, and today was a typical outing for the
three of them; they had travelled by train to
Southport, enjoyed lunch at a quiet café, and then
walked along the sea front until they reached the
sand dunes. Joseph had immediately set off to
pursue the local insects - some to watch and some

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to take home and keep, at least until Mrs Foxley
discovered their presence. He was out of sight at
the moment, but Daniel knew that he would not be
far away.

Behind them the dunes rose higher and

stretched away to end in damp slacks and gorse
bushes. The breeze from the sea was warm, a soft
caress on his skin that hardly stirred the tall grasses
on the top of the dunes. Below them he could see a
few people strolling along the firm sands of the
beach, others walking the promenade and turning
back when it ended.

He looked across to where Harrison lay

cushioned by the short turf of the sand dune, his
eyes closed, completely relaxed. Leaning up on one
elbow, he let his gaze trace the line of Harrison's
cheek and jaw; saw curls and waves in the usually
tidy dark hair, its true nature revealed by the wind
and the effort of climbing the dune. Here in this
secluded spot he could reach out, stroke a hand
across that cheek, turn Harrison's face towards him
for a kiss - a kiss that would melt into an embrace…

"Dad! Dad! Look what I found!"
Jolted out of his day-dream, Daniel took a

shuddering breath, his body as shocked as if they
had actually been making love. He signalled to his
son to stop shouting.

Harrison sat up. "What's wrong with Joe?" he

asked.

"Nothing." Conscious of his thudding heartbeat

and demanding body, Daniel strove to speak
normally. "He's obviously found something of more
than special interest."

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Joseph came to a halt beside them, breathing

heavily from his attempt to run through soft sand
that slipped under his feet and almost seemed to
pull him back two steps for every one up the slope.

"Look." He lifted the lid of the special box that

held his newest treasure.

It was a beetle; almost an inch long in the body,

its legs scrabbled helplessly against the floor of its
cage. Daniel and Harrison were every bit as
impressed by its size and colour as Joseph wanted
them to be; the creature was a dazzling emerald
green with pale spots on its wing cases, its legs a
shiny bronze.

"He's a handsome fellow," said Harrison. "What

are you going to do with him?"

Joseph looked first to his father and then to

Harrison. "Take him home?" he suggested,
tentatively.

Harrison gave an undecided shake of his head.

"You know what Mrs Foxley will do when she sees
it."

"I'll hide him; keep him in my bedroom. She

won't even know about him."

"Two points there," said his father. "One, you

would be deceiving Mrs Foxley, and two, it will be
dead within a week."

"It might be best if you were to leave him here,

Joe," Harrison suggested kindly.

Joe's expression was glum. "But he's the best

beetle I've ever found," he protested. "Must I?"

"Do you know what kind it is?" asked Harrison.

Then as Joseph shook his head, "Well, then, I have
a idea. You're good at drawing; draw its picture and

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make a note of the colours, and next week we can
go to the museum to look at their collection and
find out its name. That's what a proper naturalist
would do."

"Like the notebooks kept by Mr Darwin?" said

Joseph, surprising Harrison.

"Yes, just like the notebooks that he kept."
Joseph collapsed onto the ground beside them

and placed the box carefully in front of him. "I don't
have any paper."

"I do." Harrison produced a small notebook and

pencil from his inside jacket pocket and Joseph
settled down to work. Meanwhile, the two men sat
side by side, looking out towards the sea.

"It'll be time to leave soon," said Daniel softly. He

glanced at his son. "As soon as our naturalist has
completed his work."

Harrison smiled. "I don't know when I've enjoyed

a better day," he said, happily.

"Nor me," responded Daniel in contentment.
"I've finished," declared Joseph.
"May we see?" asked Harrison, and the boy

handed over the notebook. "That's very good, Joe. I
can see that this notebook would be much more use
to you than me; if your father agrees, you may keep
it."

"May I, Dad?"
"If Mr Calderwood says so then yes, you may."
"And the pencil," added Harrison. "They go

together, of course."

"Thank you, sir." He put the notebook safely in

his pocket; took a last look at the captive and
placed the box on its side on the ground. It took a

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few seconds for the beetle to realise freedom was at
hand then it scurried out, across the sandy grass
and out of sight. Joseph gave a small sigh. "He was
the very best beetle I've ever found in my life; I
would have taken really good care of him."

Harrison chuckled and ruffled his hair. "You'll

find others," he promised, "and they'll be just as
good as that one, if not better." He looked across to
Daniel. "Coffee and ice-cream, before we get the
train?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea." Daniel bent

to pick up the collecting box as his son went
careering down the dune to land in a heap at the
bottom. "I think our intrepid naturalist needs a
servant," he said affectionately.

The summer continued to be warm and settled,

but the following Saturday - despite the temptation
of another glorious summer day - they were at the
museum, where Harrison had arranged for the
curator of the natural history gallery to help them
identify Joseph's beetle.

"Calm down," ordered Daniel, as he followed his

son through the turnstile into the lofty coolness of
the museum foyer. They had not managed to fit in a
visit to the museum before this, the fine weather
tempting them away from the city.

"I want to see everything," said Joseph excitedly,

darting over to look in a glass case; it held several
papyri with pictures of river scenes and boats on
them. He beckoned his father over. "We had a box of
things like this at school last year; the museum sent
it and let us keep it for a whole month."

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"There's a lot more here than would fit in a box,"

said Daniel, looking round at the display cases
which stood between the arches that supported the
mezzanine. More were against the walls beneath
the upper floor, and there were two rows down the
centre of the room.

"That's why I want to see everything." Joseph

went to peer into another case, this one crammed
with statuettes, necklaces, more papyri and other
unidentifiable objects.

Harrison came to stand beside Daniel. "I've

spoken to the attendant, he's gone to find Mr
Grafton for us."

"It's very good of you to have arranged all this,"

said Daniel, warmly.

"I enjoy it." Harrison pointed to the far end of the

room. "Here's Grafton now."

"Joseph!"
Leaving a display-case that had a model of a

Nile boat complete with crew, Joseph went to stand
beside his father.

Harrison held out his hand to the newcomer. "It's

good to see you again. This is my friend and
associate Mr Harper and his son, Joseph." He
turned to Joseph. "Joe, this is Mr Grafton who's
going to show us the beetle collection."

"Invertebrates, Harry," corrected Grafton with a

smile.

Joseph held out his hand politely. "Thank you,

sir."

Grafton shook hands with him. "We have to go

upstairs. If you would like to follow me?"

He led the way to the staircase at the end of the

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hall, on either side of which were identical
Egyptian statues of a woman seated on a throne.
Joseph stared at them; the bodies carved out of the
black stone were human, but each had the head of a
lioness.

When they reached the mezzanine Joseph

paused to look down on the people milling about in
the entrance hall below, then had to dash to keep
up with the three men. The first room they came to
was full of cases of stuffed birds; silent and stiff,
they gazed with blind eyes towards the visitors.

"Here we are." Grafton opened a door and led

them into a smaller room; this was lined with
cabinets of shallow drawers and above these were
display cases holding butterflies, moths and
spiders. One was occupied solely by bats, their
wings spread and pinned down.

"I hope you've brought your drawing with you,

young man?"

"Yes, sir." Joseph produced the notebook from his

pocket and handed it over.

Grafton looked at it carefully. "This is a very

good likeness; you have a real eye for detail."

Joseph tried not to smile at the compliment but

could not resist a proud glance at his father, who
winked back at him.

"This looks to me like a Tiger Beetle, and that's

one of the order

Coleoptera. We should find a

similar specimen in here." Grafton pulled open a
drawer and glanced swiftly over the contents -
dozens of beetles held immobile by pins, their legs
not touching the base of the drawer. "No, it must be
the next one."

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"There it is," exclaimed Joseph, when Grafton

pulled open the second drawer.

"Yes, as I said, you produced a very good

likeness. You found a Green Tiger Beetle; its
Sunday name is

Cicindela campestris." He handed

the notebook back. "If you're going to keep proper
records, and I hope you are, then as well as the
name of the creature or plant you will need to make
a note of the date, what the weather is doing and
precisely where you found your specimen."

Joseph nodded, busy copying out the name of

his discovery. When he had finished, Grafton
carefully closed the drawer.

"Thank you, sir."
"Yes, thank you," added Harrison. "I know these

collections aren't normally open to the public."

"It was a pleasure," replied Grafton. "We need to

encourage our young people and their enquiring
minds." Led by Grafton, they returned to the
mezzanine where he asked Joseph, "Have you seen
our Electric Catfish, young man?"

"No, sir, I haven't."
"Well, if you have time you should certainly visit

him in the aquarium; we also have an alligator from
New Orleans and a crocodile from West Africa." He
turned to Daniel. "I'm sorry I will be unable to
accompany you, but I have another appointment."

Harper shook his hand. "Thank you, sir, you've

been very generous with your time. My son and I
appreciate it."

"Hope to see you soon, Harry. Goodbye, Joseph."

He held out his hand to Harrison. "Goodbye, Harry,
please give my best regards to your mother."

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"I will, and thank you."
Grafton left them and ran lightly down the stairs

towards his office on the ground floor.

Daniel turned to his son. "Are you pleased?"
Joe nodded enthusiastically. "Can we go to the

aquarium now, please, Dad?"

"I don't see why not; what do you think,

Harrison?" He smiled slightly. "Or should I call you
Harry?"

"Grafton and I were at school together."

Harrison's glance held Daniel's. "And yes, I like
being called Harry." He turned back to Joseph.
"We'll have to go back downstairs, then - and Mr
Grafton didn't tell you about the Giant Salamander."

Daniel laughed "That sounds like something

thought up by Conan Doyle!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, no, it's real enough, it even has a name;

they call it 'Hell Bender'."

"If anyone else told me that I wouldn't believe

them!"

Harrison smiled broadly. "Well, more politely,

people call it the mud-dog, but you don't have to
take my word for it - come and see the creature for
yourself."

Harrison impatiently pushed the papers on his

desk to one side; the last thing he wanted to do this
morning was sort out the tangle of Pryce Moodie's
probate. Sunshine slanted in through the window,
drawing his thoughts to the idyllic day he and
Daniel had spent together with Joseph at
Southport; it seemed longer than three weeks ago.
He smiled at the memory. It had all been an

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adventure for Joseph, and a chance for himself and
Daniel to spend some time in each other's company,
and he wondered when the next occasion would
present itself.

He could take another day off at any time but

Daniel could only escape on Saturday and Sunday,
and part of any Saturday would always be spent
helping at the shelter. It had never seemed irksome
in the past to have to work through the summer, but
now Moodie's paperwork was intruding itself upon
the far more pleasurable occupation of planning
trips for the three of them to take - if only they could
find the time. Common sense prevailed, however;
he gathered his thoughts together and returned his
attention to the probate papers before the heirs and
Mason had the chance to start asking about its
progress.

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CHAPTER 6

The afternoon was getting late and Elizabeth

glanced at the clock, wondering if Harrison would
be home for dinner. He'd said he was going out for
the day with Daniel, but not when he would be
back. There was still a little time left, however,
before she and Mrs Grainger would have to make a
definite decision about how many to cater for, and
at least she knew for certain that Todd would be
dining out with Caroline and some friends of theirs.
She picked up her copy of

Middlemarch; she was

now finding the passages about provision for the
education and relief of the poor particularly topical,
but she had read scarcely more than half a chapter
before Harrison arrived, a little out of breath but
clearly very happy.

"Well, I don't have to ask if you've had a good

time," she remarked, fondly.

Harrison sat in the chair opposite and leaned

forward to talk to her. "We all had a good time - Joe
especially."

Elizabeth set the book on the table beside her

chair, her whole attention focussed on her son.
"What did you do today?"

He smiled the mischievous smile she

remembered from his childhood, whenever he was
wondering what her reaction would be to some idea
he'd had that he thought she may not approve of.

"We went to a football match; it was Daniel's

idea."

"A football match?" she repeated, amused by the

picture that created in her mind.

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"Yes, and Joe cheered louder than either of us

when our team scored a goal."

"You have a team now?" teased his mother. "And

where was this football match, Harry?"

"It was at Goodison Park. Everton won two-nil

against Sheffield Wednesday."

Todd came into the room.
"Football?" Elizabeth watched the smile fade

from Harrison's face as his brother continued.
"Didn't you feel a little out of place among people of
that sort?" He sat on the sofa, obviously waiting for
an answer.

"Yes, a little, at first, but everyone was very

friendly."

"Everton?" mused Todd. "Is it true that they'll

only accept players who are Roman Catholics?"

"I wouldn't know about that," returned Harry,

dismissively.

"I think that's what I've heard. In fact, I'm quite

sure of it."

Elizabeth sighed, thinking that it was time Todd

got used to the idea of Harrison's friendship with
Daniel Harper. "I understood you were going out
with Caroline this evening, Todd?"

"I am, but not until later. We're going to a concert

at the Philharmonic, then on to a late supper with
John Boardman and his wife."

"So will you be wanting dinner after all?"
"No, I've asked Grainger to bring me up a tray of

something while I get changed." He stood up.
"Harper might be able to take you to a football
match, Harry, but I doubt if you could invite him to
a society event."

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Elizabeth was quick to intervene before Harrison

could form a reply. "Go and get changed," she
suggested, briskly. However she realised that Todd
must have seen Harrison's angry reaction to his
words, because as he was leaving he hesitated by
his brother's chair and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm only thinking of you, old son."
Harrison seemed to relax under the touch and

he looked up. "I know, but you might feel differently
if you'd actually met Daniel."

"Well, I don't suppose that's likely to happen, do

you?" Todd straightened up. "Now excuse me, I
have to go and get ready."

"He's concerned about you," said Elizabeth,

when they were alone again.

"I know he is, but I can't give up my friendship

with Daniel - not even for the family."

"Can't? Or won't?" she asked.
"Can't," he said softly.
"Then I think it's time I met him and his son. I'd

like to invite them both to tea next Sunday
afternoon."

"Oh? What about Todd?"
She raised a quizzical eyebrow. "He won't come

to afternoon tea, Harry, he never does. Alexandra
can make up the numbers, and she's nearer to
Joseph's age than the rest of us."

Harrison went to half-kneel by her chair and

wrapped his arms around her. "Mother, you are a
treasure!"

She stroked back his hair, teasing waves into it.

"I haven't approved of your Daniel yet," she
reminded him.

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"No. But I'm sure you will."

"You've got a letter," said Joseph the following

Tuesday morning, handing an envelope to his father
before sliding into his seat at the breakfast table.

Daniel presumed it would be from Harrison, and

was therefore surprised not to recognise the
handwriting. The postmark, however, was local; if
he was lucky, it would be someone offering to
support the shelter in some way - preferably
financially.

"Aren't you going to open it?" asked Joseph,

biting into a round of toast.

Daniel slit open the envelope with his unused

butter knife; reading the contents, he blew out a
sigh of disbelief.

"Dad? What is it?"
"It's from Mrs Calderwood, Harrison's mother."

He glanced down at the letter again, wanting to be
certain there was no mistake. "She's invited us to
tea on Sunday afternoon."

"At their house, do you mean?" Joseph's eyes

were wide with astonishment.

Daniel nodded. Early in his acquaintance with

Harrison, he and Joe had walked up to Falconer
Square to satisfy their curiosity; it had been a short
walk into a world of trees, grass and flower gardens
that was very different from their own.

"Are we going?"
"Would you like to?"
Joseph nodded cautiously, clearly caught

between the promise of tea and the threat of having
to wear his best clothes.

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"Then we will. I'll write to Mrs Calderwood to

thank her, and send a note to Harrison at the same
time." Daniel took a deep breath. "We'll both have to
be on our very best behaviour," he reminded him.

"Yes, I know. But there'll be cakes, won't there?"
Daniel smiled. "Yes," he agreed, "there will

almost certainly be cakes."

After this Joseph resumed his breakfast but

Daniel read the letter through again, trying to
understand the impulse behind it. The occasion
itself did not dismay him; some years ago, before
his father's death, they had lived in a very similar
style to the Calderwoods. It was strange to
remember the dinners, teas and dances he had
attended then, never expecting that one day it
would all end so suddenly. It was the sheer
unexpectedness of the invitation that troubled him
more; spending time with Harrison at the shelter or
on a day out was unusual but socially acceptable,
whereas visiting his home and his family would be
another matter entirely.

Elizabeth sighed, as Harrison offered yet

another suggestion for the anticipated visit from
Daniel Harper and his son. As Sunday drew nearer
Harrison seemed to have been unable to think of
anything else and today he was everywhere, getting
in the way and offering suggestions or advice.

"Harrison!" Elizabeth silently counted to ten and

lowered her voice. "I think I have organised enough
social events in my lifetime to be able to manage a
simple afternoon tea for five people."

Alexandra swallowed a smile at seeing her

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dignified cousin told off like a schoolboy.

Harrison held up his hands as if to ward off a

further attack. "I'm sorry, Mother, it's just … "

Her irritation dissolving, Elizabeth favoured him

with a forgiving smile. "This is very important to
you," she said. "I understand that."

"Of course it is; I want it to be a success. I want

Daniel to be comfortable with us and I want him to
come back again. I want you to see … " He broke off
the sentence.

"The best way to achieve all that is for us, and

hopefully Mr Harper, simply to behave normally.
Now go and find something else to do and leave
Alexandra and me in peace."

When he'd gone Alexandra laughed. "I've never

seen him so agitated," she said.

"No," agreed her aunt. "I hope he's not expecting

too much of all of us."

Privately Elizabeth was concerned about the

outcome of this unusual friendship and had some
sympathy with Todd's worries about the social
inequality between the two parties, but even more
than that she wanted Daniel Harper to be
trustworthy and to be worthy of the friendship
Harrison had bestowed on him.

The appointed Sunday was a perfect September

day, and to calm his nerves Daniel stopped for a
short while to admire the view across the river
before he and Joseph entered Falconer Square.

When they reached the house with its pillared

portico, Daniel glanced at Joseph to make sure that
he was still tidy before he rang the bell.

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The door was opened by a butler. "Sir?"
"Mr Harper to see Mrs Calderwood," said

Daniel.

Standing back, Grainger opened the door fully.

"You are expected, sir. Please come in."

The door had hardly closed behind them when

Harrison appeared. "Thank you, Grainger; we'll
have tea in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, sir." He waited to take Daniel's hat and

Joseph's cap before leaving.

Harrison took hold of Daniel's hand. "It's good to

see you here," he said.

"It's good to be here," replied Daniel. "I think."
"There's nothing at all to worry about; my mother

is looking forward to meeting you both." He placed
a hand on Joseph's shoulder. "She likes boys."

Joseph's wide smile reassured Harrison.
Daniel lowered his voice. "I thought when you

had a butler they did all the introductions?"

"We're not quite that formal here, I'm glad to say.

Well, not all the time, anyway. Ready, Joe?"

Receiving a nod in reply Harrison led them

across the hallway, pushed open the drawing-room
door, and ushered them in.

Elizabeth was seated on the sofa, with Alexandra

standing close beside her.

"Mother, may I introduce Daniel Harper and his

son Joseph?"

Elizabeth held out her hand. "How do you do,

Mr Harper?" she asked warmly.

"We're very well, thank you, Mrs Calderwood."
Harrison brought Alexandra forward. "My

cousin, Miss Govern."

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She also held out her hand in welcome. "Mr

Harper."

Introductions over, Elizabeth patted the seat

beside her. "Come and sit next to me, Joseph, I've
kept a place for you here."

"I told you she likes boys," said Harrison,

reassuringly.

Joseph did as he was told and they were soon

deep in conversation. From the little Harrison
overheard, Joseph was telling her about having to
write an essay about his favourite animal and how
difficult it was to choose. Taking up her role as co-
hostess, Alexandra now spoke to Daniel. "Harrison
has told us such a lot about you both, we almost feel
as if we know you already."

Daniel looked across to Harrison, who did not

look the least bit discomforted. "All of it good, I
hope."

"Oh yes, of course."
Apart from Elizabeth and Joseph, their discourse

confined itself to the weather and how pleased they
all were to finally meet each other. Happily the
arrival of the tea-trolley ended the conversation.

"Thank you, Lily, we'll serve ourselves," said

Elizabeth.

The maid dropped a curtsey before leaving.
The top of the trolley was dominated by a large

silver teapot, with matching hot water jug; the
china cups were lined up like soldiers, with all the
handles pointing in the same direction. It was
obvious, though, that Joseph was rather more
interested in the bottom shelf of the trolley, where
there was a collection of silver dishes holding small

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triangular sandwiches with no crusts; more
interesting still were the two cake-stands with their
assortment of plain and fancy cakes.

"Alex, you and Harrison see to the tea; Joseph

and I are busy."

"Yes, Aunt."
Daniel began to relax. He had been expecting a

very formal occasion, but it was obvious that Mrs
Calderwood did not especially believe in formality.
He had often wondered about Harrison's easy
politeness, his comfortable manner with the people
who used the shelter, and now he had his answer;
clearly he had learned his manners from his mother.

Harrison poured a glass of lemonade for Joseph,

while Alexandra dealt with tea for her aunt before
asking, "How do you like your tea, Mr Harper?"

"Not too weak, thank you, but I really don't

mind."

She smiled as she handed over a cup and saucer.

"I wish all my aunt's guests were as easy to please."

When everyone was settled with their tea, and

temporarily separated from both Joseph and
Harrison, Daniel occupied himself looking around
the airy room. He had expected it to be cluttered
with an accumulation of ornaments and handwork
in the current fashion but instead it was simply
furnished, pale green walls gathering light from the
large bay-window.

Mrs Calderwood's voice cut into his thoughts. "I

would like one of each kind of sandwich, please."
He saw Alexandra put down her cup, but Elizabeth
shook her head. "No, thank you, Alex. Joseph is
going to get them for me."

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"Yes, ma'am."
Daniel watched with secret pride as his son

complied carefully with Mrs Calderwood's request;
at the same time, he was hoping he would
remember his manners and not try to eat too much.

"Now get something for yourself, Joseph.

Sandwiches before cake, mind."

The familiar injunction from his own childhood

made Daniel smile; he caught Harrison's glance
and sent a silent message of reassurance.

Seated to Daniel's right, Alexandra said, "May I

help you to something more, Mr Harper?"

"No, thank you, Miss Govern, I have everything

I need."

Clearly making an effort to be charming,

Alexandra tried again to engage the attention of the
handsome man beside her. "Tell me about your work
at the shelter? It must be very interesting."

"I'm not sure 'interesting' is quite the best way to

describe it, but I do meet all kinds of fascinating
people."

"Ask him about Everton Football Club instead,

Alex," suggested Harrison mischievously. "He has a
fund of stories about that."

She coloured up, clearly furious with her cousin

for butting in.

Daniel sent Harrison a swift glance and then

turned attentively to Alexandra. "What would you
like to know about the shelter, Miss Govern?"

Forty-five minutes later the sandwich-dishes and

cake-stands had been cleared of their contents,
mostly by Joseph; the others were too busy talking

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to pay any real attention to the food. Elizabeth
decided that it was time to bring the visit to an end.

"Will you ring for Lily to come and collect the

trolley, please, Harry?"

When everything had been collected and the

trolley taken away, Daniel stood up. "Thank you
very much for your hospitality, Mrs Calderwood,
but I'm afraid it's time Joseph and I were leaving."

"Must you?" asked Alexandra, impulsively.
"I'm afraid so; there's school tomorrow for

Joseph, and there are things we have to attend to."

Harrison also stood up. "I'll walk down with you,"

he offered.

"You must both come again sometime," said

Elizabeth, cordially.

"Thank you, I think we would both enjoy that."
"Yes, so would I," Elizabeth replied, and the

kindly tone of her voice left no-one in any doubt of
her sincerity.

After they had gone, Alexandra crossed to the

window to watch their progress across the square.

"He's nice, isn't he?"
"Which? Joseph? Or his father?"
"Both - but I was speaking of Mr Harper, of

course." She turned away from the window with a
sigh as they disappeared around the corner. "I'm
very glad that they'll be calling again."

"Don't you think he might be just a little too old

for you?" asked Elizabeth, archly, not at all
surprised by Alexandra's interest; Daniel Harper
was extremely attractive.

"No, I don't think so. Not really. There aren't too

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many young men worth meeting, anyway; Harry
and Todd's friends are almost all far too old, or
married, or boring."

"Mr Harper might think that you are far too

young."

Alexandra smiled. "Well, then, I shall have to

show him that I'm not."

"What about Caroline's brother? I thought you

were interested in him."

Alex shrugged her shoulders. "I was," she

agreed. "I am. It depends."

Elizabeth kept her thoughts to herself. Clearly,

Alex had not noticed the silent communications
passing between Harrison and Daniel; perhaps the
affection between them was not quite as obvious as
she had originally thought.

"Would you please pass my crochet work over?"

she asked, glad of an opportunity of changing the
subject.

Alex did so and Elizabeth began to work, but as

she did so her thoughts drifted far away,
remembering some of Harrison's past friendships;
whatever the outcome of this one might turn out to
be, she hoped that Daniel Harper was a friend in
whom Harrison would be able to trust.

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CHAPTER 7

Daniel moved the title deeds he was working on

to the side of his desk, giving him more room to
study the plan that went with them; there was a
boundary dispute and he wanted the details clear in
his mind before he handed the papers to Mr Byrd.

"Mr Harper?"
He looked up at the sound of the office boy's

voice. "Yes, Charlie?"

"Mr Byrd wants to see you straight away."
"Thank you." He stood up, glanced at the

documents spread across his desk and called the
boy back. "Don't let anyone move these, I've only
just managed to get them into order."

"No, sir."
Daniel knocked on the door of the senior partner.

There was no Mr Scott; he had died twenty years
before.

"Come in."
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes." The solicitor removed his glasses to look at

Daniel. "I have recently received a most disturbing
report, Harper. I trust there is no truth in the
accusation made against you, but I have to ask."

"Accusation, sir?" There were several occasions

Daniel could think of when he had not been as
prudent as he should have been, but surely nothing
that could have come to the attention of his
employer.

"Were you involved in the strikes during the

summer; strikes that held one of the city's most
important shipping companies to ransom?"

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Daniel's heart sank. "May I ask who is accusing

me?"

"Prevarication, Harper? The information was

given to me by a man whose word I trust, and that
is all I am prepared to tell you. I ask you again, is
this true?"

He was clearly going to lose his place whatever

he said; Mr Byrd would certainly not keep him on
after this. "The men had justice on their side,"
Daniel replied firmly.

"Then you admit your involvement?"
"Yes, sir."
Outraged, Byrd banged the desk with both

hands. "Give your work to Jenkins, collect any
belongings you have and leave here at once. I will
not harbour a troublemaker in my establishment,
this firm has a reputation to uphold."

"Am I to collect my wages?"
"In truth I do not believe you deserve them, but

nonetheless I will instruct Mr Leyland to make up
what is due to you."

"Sir."
"Go. Go, get out of my sight. I trusted you,

Harper. I put my faith in you - and you've let me
down. Tell Mr Leyland I want to see him, please."

Back in the general office Daniel faced the

curious stares of his colleagues; it was obvious
Byrd's summary dismissal of him had been
overheard. He went to the cashier's cubicle. "Mr
Byrd wants to see you."

Lost in the intricacies of costing a file, Leyland

looked up distractedly. "Now?"

"Yes."

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Daniel returned to his desk; the documents were

exactly as he had left them. He clenched his fingers
to stop them shaking and took a deep breath; he
had lost a job, that was all. He could no doubt get
another.

"Mr Jenkins?" The clerk came over to him. "Mr

Byrd would like you to take over my work."

"Yes, Mr Harper."
The cashier came out of the office and looked

across to Daniel. "I won't be long."

To occupy the time Daniel went to collect his

coat and hat from the hallway, glad to be away from
the sympathetic glances. He lingered there for a
few moment before returning to wait in the cashier's
office.

"I'm sorry about this," said Leyland, counting out

the money due to Daniel.

"Thank you."
There were a few good wishes as he left but they

were softly spoken, the well-wishers only too
apparently afraid of being overheard.

Shortly afterwards Daniel stood outside the front

door of the office in the October sunshine; it was
two o'clock in the afternoon and he had no idea
what to do for the rest of the day - everything had
happened so quickly. He would have to find
another job as soon as possible, that was for sure;
the small amount of money he had put away would
not last long. He knew Mrs Foxley would grant
them a period of grace concerning the rent, but he
could not expect her to extend it indefinitely.

Because he had to do something he began to

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walk, and soon left the business and banking
quarter behind him. How had Byrd found out about
his involvement with the strikers? he wondered. No
one knew; at least, no one that the solicitor had
access to. He crossed the main street and wandered
into the courts, making his way automatically
towards the shelter.

Outside the refuge he realised abruptly who the

informant could have been. There was someone
who knew; someone whose word his former
employer would not have questioned. He did not
want to believe, really could not believe, that
Harrison would accuse him on purpose, but there
no one else who knew. Harrison Calderwood was
the only one who could possibly have betrayed him,
although he could well have done so unconsciously
- by speaking to someone about the strike, or by
making some innocent comment that had made its
way back to Scott, Byrd and Company.

He pushed open the door of the shelter and went

in.

Rebecca was there with her usual collection of

youngsters, this time a class of girls. Seeing him,
she came over. "Mr Harper, are you all right?"

"Yes, I … I've just had a shock, that's all."
"Let me get you a drink," she offered,

concernedly.

"No, thank you. I'll be all right. You go back to

your class, Rebecca. I'll sit here and rest for a little
while before I go home."

"Call me if you need anything."
"I will."
He sat back in the chair, remembering

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Harrison's arrival at the shelter, and how he had
hardly been able to believe that the man he had
admired for so many months was actually here in
his company. He was realistic enough to accept that
Harrison could never offer him more than
friendship but still he had cherished that friendship,
never dreaming it could possibly end in disaster
both for himself and his son.

"We're off now," said Kathleen, who worked in

the kitchen. She pulled her shawl around her
shoulders. "Shouldn't you be going home, Mr
Harper?"

Daniel took out his pocket-watch; it was half-

past-five, and Joseph would begin to worry if he
was late. "Thank you, I didn't realise what time it
was."

He made no move to leave, however. He didn't

know what he was going to tell Joseph when he got
home; that it looked as if he had lost his position
because of something Harrison had said. Joe
clearly thought Harrison could do no wrong, and
would never believe his hero was the cause of their
present trouble. Daniel didn't want to believe it
himself, either, but he could think of no other
explanation.

Father Ashmore came in, spoke briefly to

Rebecca and then walked over to him. "Daniel?"

"Good evening, Father."
"Rebecca is worried about you. She says you've

been here all afternoon."

"I'm about to leave."
"

All afternoon?" insisted the priest, quietly. He

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did not need to say more.

"Yes, Father. I've lost my position … because of

the strike."

"Glory be, Daniel, that's a terrible thing to

happen! What will you do?"

"I don't know; it only happened this afternoon. I

must look for work elsewhere, I suppose."

"I am so sorry. You will tell me if there's anything

I can do to help?"

Unable to cope with sympathy of any kind

Daniel stood up. "I have to go; I haven't told Joseph
yet - or my landlady."

The priest nodded.
"Yes, of course. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." Daniel left him, and crossed the

room to where Rebecca was sorting through the
small collection of books she used for her lessons.
"You should be getting home, too," he said.

"I'd rather be here," she replied.
Daniel understood that; she felt safe here.

"Father Ashmore will be locking up in about half an
hour," he reminded her kindly.

"Yes, I know." Placidly she continued to tidy what

she called her schoolroom corner so Daniel left, still
trying to some up with a way of explaining
Harrison's actions to himself.

The hill was steeper than usual, but still Daniel

arrived home far too soon. He was about to knock
on the door when it was abruptly pulled open by
Joseph.

"Mrs Foxley's got a parrot! It's called Orlando."
Bemused, Daniel tried to understand what

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Joseph had said. He was unsure whether he had
heard correctly. "A parrot?"

"Yes, she let me go into her parlour to see it. It's

green; her brother brought it back from Jamaica."

"Well, be careful it doesn't bite you." Daniel could

not concentrate on the parrot, however. "Come
upstairs, I have something to tell you."

Settled in his armchair, Daniel drew Joseph to

stand in front of him. "Don't say anything to Mrs
Foxley yet, I will tell her myself in a day or two."

"Tell her what?"
"I don't have a job any more, and I'm not sure if

I'll be able to get another one here in Liverpool."

Young as he was, Joseph understood the

consequences of being unemployed. "What
happened?" he asked.

"Mr Byrd found out that I was involved in the

strikes during the summer."

"Oh, but Mr Calderwood is a solicitor; he'll help

us, won't he?"

"I don't think we should ask him, I'm afraid. In

fact, I think it may have been Mr Calderwood who
told someone about my involvement with the
strike."

"He wouldn't!"
Daniel understood Joseph's automatic defence of

Harrison and was sorry that he himself could not be
quite as certain. "Joe, nobody else knew."

"I wouldn't be him!" insisted Joseph loyally. "Ask

him! I'm sure he didn't do it!"

"Have you forgotten? Harrison is away in France

at the moment and he won't be back for at least
another two weeks - perhaps more. I'll start looking

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for another job right away but remember, not a word
to Mrs Foxley. Not yet."

Three weeks later Harrison looked reluctantly at

the pile of letters on his desk awaiting his attention
and half-wished he was back in France. He had
enjoyed his weeks in Paris with James Weston,
happy to realise that their friendship was as strong
as ever. What he wanted most of all, however, now
that he was home, was to see Daniel and Joseph
and find out if the postcards he'd sent them from
France had arrived safely.

By late afternoon he had cleared his desk and

signed the last of his letters, and he rang for Mason
to come in and collect them.

Papers in hand, Mason hesitated before leaving

the room.

"Is there something else?" asked Harrison,

surprised.

"I wondered if you had heard about Mr Harper,

sir?"

"No, I was hoping to call and see him this

evening. Why, is something wrong?"

"I would have told you earlier, sir, but we've just

been so busy. I'm sorry to say that I understand he's
lost his position with Scotts. He's been looking for
another place, but so far no-one will take him on;
the rumour is he was involved in the dock strike in
the summer. It's a terrible blow for him and the boy."

Harrison was dismayed, but not entirely

surprised; Daniel had been on a dangerous course,
and they had both known it. There was no way to
avoid his being discovered eventually, and there

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had been plenty of people who might have
recognised him and been only too willing to carry
the tale to his employer. Sometimes even the
strikers themselves were spies for the owners,
driven to betray their friends for the sake of family
or - less worthily - in return for money.

"I didn't know about that, Mason. Thank you."
Harrison couldn't understand why Daniel

himself hadn't told him something so important; he
could have written to him - Joseph had the address
- or he could have left a message for him at the
house. Well, he was determined to find out for
himself tonight, on the way home.

Mrs Foxley opened the door. "Good evening, sir;

I saw you coming up the street."

"Good evening. Is Mr Harper at home?"
"Yes, sir. Please go straight up; I'm sure he'll be

very glad to see you, especially now."

Joseph opened the door to their rooms and

immediately wrapped his arms tightly around
Harrison's waist. "I knew you'd come!"

Surprised by this welcome, Harrison returned

the hug, releasing Joseph as soon as he felt the boy
begin to step away again. "Is your dad here?" he
asked.

Joseph nodded but did not meet Harrison's gaze.

"Yes, he is."

Daniel came out of the bedroom to stand next to

his son. "I'm here," he said, his voice unnaturally
calm.

"May I come in?"
Apparently reluctantly Daniel stood to one side,

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turning his back on Harrison. Joseph closed the
door and stood watching the pair of them.

"Why didn't you tell me what had happened?"

Harrison asked, concerned.

Daniel swung round, the fear and frustration of

the past three weeks finding their release in sudden
anger. "I didn't think you'd need to be told. I
thought you would have known all about it."

"My chief clerk told me this afternoon, or I

would never have known at all. Why didn't you say
anything to me yourself?"

"Why?" demanded Daniel. "Why should I report

to you like one of your office boys?"

Harrison ignored the sarcasm. "I'm not

suggesting that - but I'm your friend; I might have
been able to help you."

"You've helped me quite enough already."
Recognising that Daniel was overwrought and

hitting out at the nearest person, Harrison did not
respond to his anger. "Please, Daniel, just tell me
what happened. Mason said that it was because of
the strike."

"Oh, don't pretend you don't know! 'A man

respected by the legal profession' - that's who told
Mr Byrd. Now, who in this room fits that
description?"

"It wasn't me. How could you possibly think it

would be me?"

"Who else was there that day, Harry, except you,

me and those poor sods of dockers?"

"Dad … " pleaded Joe anxiously.
Harrison held out his hand to reassure him. "It's

all right, Joe, there's no need to worry."

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"No, it's not bloody all right!" returned Daniel

forcefully. "Mr Byrd has refused me a reference, and
that means I can't get a decent job. Hell, I can't get
any job at all, and we both know that it had to be
you who told someone you'd seen me there."

"This is getting us nowhere, Daniel, and you

know very well that I did no such thing. However I
can certainly help you - if you'll let me."

"Charity, you mean, do you? Like the help you

give to the poor bastards who find their way to the
back door of your fancy house up on the hill?"

"Enough." This was all far too ugly and made

absolutely no sense, and Harrison was beginning to
lose his temper. "We can sort this out when you're
ready to talk quietly, Daniel."

Daniel took a threatening step forward. "We've

done with talking, Harrison. I want you out of here
now - and out of my life."

"Dad, no!"
Choosing to ignore Daniel's outburst completely,

Harrison turned instead to Joseph. "Will you be all
right?" he asked.

"Leave my boy alone, he's nothing to do with

you!"

Daniel lunged forward, attempting to get

between them, but Harrison stepped aside, caught
hold of him and pushed him into the armchair; he
was close enough now to smell whisky on his
breath. He spoke to the boy again. "Joe?"

"We'll be all right, Mr Calderwood, honestly."
"Well, if you do need any help, remember that

Mrs Foxley is only downstairs - and you know your
way up to my house; there is always someone

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there."

"Yes, sir."
"Get out," muttered Daniel. "Now." He slumped

back dejectedly in the chair. "I wish I'd never laid
eyes on you."

Unable to believe what was happening Harrison

reluctantly left them and went downstairs.

Mrs Foxley was waiting in the hallway. "I heard

shouting," she said. "It's that poor boy I feel the
most sorry for."

Harrison did not want to discuss the situation

with her in any detail. "Has the rent been paid?" he
asked instead.

She shook her head. In response, Harrison

opened his wallet and took out several notes. "This
should take care of everything for a few weeks,
then, until the problem is sorted out. If you need
more, please contact me directly."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Out in the street, Harrison rubbed a hand

wearily across his face. He knew that he had
handled the situation badly, and there must have
been more that he could have done, but Daniel had
been in such an unreasonable frame of mind that it
had been impossible to concentrate on the practical
aspects of the problem.

Worried, he began the climb up the hill to the

square.

Later that evening Daniel stared at the tapestry

fire-screen in front of the empty grate. Joe had cried
himself to sleep tonight, for the first time since his
mother died; his distress had put a brake on

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Daniel's own anger, and now he could see what a
fool he'd been. He could not continue to blame
Harrison if he ever wanted to see him again, and he
felt that he should make an effort to try to put things
right between them.

Joseph was fast asleep. Daniel closed the

bedroom door quietly, put on his coat and went
downstairs.

Mrs Foxley answered his knock at her door; as

she opened it he could hear the parrot shrieking in
the background.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs Foxley, but I have

to go out; will you keep an eye on Joseph for me?"

"Of course I will. I'll take my knitting up and sit

with him until you get back."

"You've been very good to us. I promise I'll pay

everything I owe you, as soon as I can."

"You don't need to worry about that, Mr Harper;

Mr Calderwood has already seen to it for you."

Certain that he had not heard her correctly,

Daniel shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't
understand."

"Tonight, on his way out - he paid everything up-

to-date and more besides, so don’t you worry
yourself about anything."

Mortified, Daniel closed his eyes. It was typical

of Harrison to try and help him, even after the way
he'd been treated.

"I'd better go and talk to him about that, Mrs

Foxley. I won't be too long, I promise."

"Take as long as you need, Mr Harper," she said,

her fondness for him evident in her tone. "Joseph
and I will manage very nicely together until such

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time as you get back."

"Thank you - in fact, thank you for everything

you've done for us. I know we'd have been turned
out of most lodgings before now."

"And what good would that have done anybody,

eh? You go on up and see Mr Calderwood now,
before it's too late."

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CHAPTER 8

As he walked slowly up the hill Daniel thought

over and over about the things he had said to
Harrison, and the generosity of his reaction to their
trouble. He could probably never make matters
right again between them, but he felt he had to try;
Harrison's own actions had shown that he still cared
about them, no matter how badly he had been
treated.

Lights were on all over the house, glowing softly

through the closed curtains. Daniel hesitated,
knowing that he could not go in; he could not bear
to face Mrs Calderwood, and certainly did not want
to run the risk of meeting Todd. Taking a deep
breath, therefore, he climbed the steps to ring the
bell.

Grainger opened the door. "Sir?"
"Would you please tell Mr Harrison that I'm

waiting in the square?"

"Is there no other message, sir?" asked Grainger,

faint surprise colouring his voice.

"No, just tell him that. Thank you."
Daniel left, and crossed to sit on one of the

benches under the trees.

Grainger went into the sitting-room, causing

Alex and Elizabeth to look up from sorting out a
tangle of embroidery silks.

"Yes?" asked Todd, lowering his newspaper.
"A message for Mr Harrison, sir."
Harrison looked up from his book. "What is it,

Grainger?"

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"Mr Harper, sir, asked me to tell you that he'll be

waiting for you out in the square."

"That's all?"
"Yes, sir, that's all."
"Thank you." When Grainger had gone Harrison

closed his book firmly and stood up.

"You're surely not going out there, are you?"

demanded Todd, indignantly. "Doesn't the man have
any idea what time it is?"

"I can hardly leave him waiting in the square,

can I, even if I wanted to? Which I don't. I want to
see him." Harrison spoke to nobody in particular. "I
won't be long."

Todd glanced across to his mother for support.

"Surely, this is going too far!" he protested.

"Harrison doesn't think so," was her mild

response. She barely looked up from sorting out the
skeins of silk.

"Sometimes Harrison doesn't think at all," was

the exasperated rejoinder. Still annoyed, but clearly
biting his tongue to avoid making matters worse,
Todd went back to reading the finance section of the

Liverpool Mercury.

Out in the square Daniel felt as he had been

waiting forever; the sky had darkened and stars had
begun to appear before he finally heard Harrison's
footsteps and then he stood up, his emotions a
confusion of relief, happiness and apprehension.

Daniel spoke first, as soon as Harrison was near

enough to hear him. "I'm sorry," he began urgently.

"You're an idiot," was the undeservedly tolerant

reply.

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"I know that, believe me."
Harrison sat down on the bench and took out his

cigarette case; he offered it to Daniel, who sat
beside him.

"Thank you."
Unhurriedly Harrison too chose a cigarette, then

put the case away and brought out a box of
matches; he struck one, the flare lighting his face.
Daniel accepted the light, drawing smoke deep into
his lungs, calming his nerves.

Harrison lit his own cigarette, discarded the

spent match and breathed out a cloud of aromatic
smoke. "It wasn't me, you know. I didn't tell anyone
about you."

"I know that, really I do." Although that

realisation had been a long time coming.

"Why? Why would you even

think I could do

something like that?"

"I

wasn't thinking, that's the problem. I just

wanted someone to blame." Daniel hesitated. "I
knew all along the risk I was taking by getting
involved with the strike, but I just didn't want to
admit that any of the consequences could be my
own fault."

"Yes," said Harrison, "I know how that feels,

believe me."

They sat in companionable silence for a few

minutes.

"I don't know what to do," Daniel admitted, at

length.

"Nor do I, at the moment, but we'll think of

something."

"I don't see what. If I had a reference I could try

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to find work in Manchester, perhaps; my wife's
relatives live there."

"You can't leave Liverpool, surely? There are too

many people here who need you!"

"Who?" asked Daniel derisively. "Name one!"
"Well …

me. I'd miss you, if you weren't here."

Daniel stared into the darkness. He was unable

to see Harrison's face clearly but he knew by heart
the arch of his eyebrow, the curve of his lips when
he smiled, and desire flickered dangerously along
his nerves. He drew deeply on the cigarette,
grateful for something to concentrate on, something
to stop him giving in to the insane impulse to pull
Harrison close to him, to kiss him, thereby killing
forever the idea that there was nothing more
between them than an innocent friendship.

Harrison turned towards him. Light from the

street-lamp illuminated his face, and Daniel could
see the concern and affection revealed by his
expression. He was grateful for that concern, but
wished there could be more; that here, under the
shelter of darkness, he could stop pretending and
tell Harry how he really felt about him.

Dropping his cigarette butt, Harrison ground it

deeply into the soil. "I can help you, if you'll let me."

"How? What can you do?"
"Invite me to dinner tomorrow night and we can

discuss it then."

Relief that Harrison still considered their

friendship intact coloured Daniel's voice. "Well,
since the rent has been paid, Mrs Foxley should be
quite willing to provide us with a decent meal."

Harrison smiled at the comment. "Mrs Foxley

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and I get on very well," he remarked easily. He
stood up and looked towards the house. "I should go
back in," he added, reluctance obvious in his tone.

"Yes, I've kept you from your family for far too

long." Daniel held out his hand. "Thank you for
everything, Harry."

Harrison's grip was firm, his skin warm, Daniel

fought down his emotions. "Will six-thirty tomorrow
be too early?"

Harrison shook his head in reply. "No, not at all.

I'll see you then."

He left then, and Daniel watched until the front

door had closed behind him before beginning his
walk back down the hill towards Duke Street.

The following morning Harrison stared out of

the window, his view of the street partly obscured
by gold lettering that advertised the presence of his
office. On the desk behind him a scatter of papers
waited to be turned into a contract between
Calderwood Shipping and a local sugar-refiner, but
he had little enthusiasm for the project.

Interrupted by a knock at the door, he reluctantly

left the window and went to sit behind his desk.
"Come in."

Mason handed over the latest delivery of letters

and glanced at the disarray of papers in the room.
"You have remembered, sir, that Mr Robins is
calling to see you this afternoon?"

"Yes, I'll have everything sorted out and ready for

copying well before then. Please, Mason, sit down
for a minute; I need to talk to you."

Mason sat in the chair which was normally used

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by Harrison's clients. "Sir?" he asked.

Harrison came straight to the point. "I want to

employ Daniel Harper," he said.

"Yes, sir," replied Mason cautiously.
"I have to tell you that he knows very little about

the sort of work we do here."

"I'm sure he could learn, sir," said his clerk,

although his tone did not sound as thought he was
entirely convinced.

"So am I. What I want you to tell me, though, is

whether you think it will cause problems with the
other clerks. Also, if we take him on, I'd need you to
smooth his way as much as you reasonably can."

Mason considered the situation carefully. "I don't

foresee any great difficulty, sir, as long as there is
no preferential treatment."

"There won't be." Harrison shuffled the papers

together into a pile. "I'm hoping he will eventually
be your successor." He looked up and smiled.
"When you've finally had enough of putting up with
me, that is."

"Are you suggesting it's time I retired, sir?" asked

Mason, confused by the remark.

"Certainly not; I value your experience far too

much. No, it's simply that I know I can trust Mr
Harper as much as I trust you, and I would like him
to be ready to take over your post whenever the
time does come."

"I have been giving Mr Ellwood extra duties, sir,

with that eventuality in mind."

"But you've said nothing to him about it?

Formally, I mean?"

"No, sir."

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"And are you willing to take Harper under your

wing? Discreetly, of course."

"Yes, sir, I am."
"Thank you. Then I'll speak to him tonight and

let you know if he agrees. Right now, I think I had
better get on with this."

Mason stood up to go, but did not leave

immediately. "Are you sure you're doing the right
thing, Mr Calderwood?" he asked worriedly.

Meeting his chief clerk's concerned gaze,

Harrison shook his head slightly. "No, but it's the
only thing I can think of

to do."

That evening Elizabeth closed her book with a

sigh. She had hoped the troubles of

The Lady of

Shallot would take her mind off her own, but it had

not worked. There was going to be more trouble;
she felt it in the air like an impending storm.

The previous evening had been extremely

difficult, and Harrison going out into the square to
speak to Daniel had only served to infuriate Todd.
She knew it wasn't only the social inequality
between the two men that he disapproved of,
although to him that was bad enough; Harper's
ideology, though, was far worse. Todd could
imagine no good outcome from the friendship and
was clearly very worried about his brother, about
the effect it would have on the family as a whole
and, she had to admit, on his own political
ambitions. Harrison's announcement that he would
not be having dinner with the family tonight but
dining with Daniel and his son instead had made
things even worse.

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She put the book to one side as Harrison came

in, already dressed to go out. The Harpers, like
themselves, kept old-fashioned hours and dined
early.

"Is Todd not home yet?"
Elizabeth shook her head.
He looked troubled. "I wanted to talk to you both

before I went out."

"Harrison … " The sound of the doorbell

interrupted her and, hearing Todd's voice in the
hall, Elizabeth immediately abandoned what she
had been going to say.

Striding across the room, Todd bent to kiss his

mother's cheek, nodding shortly to Harrison and
pouring himself a glass of brandy. "It's turning
cold," he remarked.

"Todd?"
He turned to face Harrison. "I suppose you are

still resolved to go down to Duke Street?"

"Daniel is expecting me. And do you have to

make it sound as if he lives in the worst of the
courts? His lodgings are perfectly respectable."

Elizabeth spoke quickly, before Todd could reply.

"Harrison wants to tell us something, Todd," she
said.

"What else could there possibly be?" muttered

Todd irritably, sitting down and stretching long legs
towards the warmth of the fire.

"Only that I'm going to offer Daniel a job in the

practice," replied his brother, in a firm but quiet
tone.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, realising that she

ought to have seen this coming and done

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something to prepare Todd to receive the news.

Todd stood up and turned to face Harrison.

"Have you no regard at all for this family?" he
demanded, sounding injured.

"It has nothing to do with the family," replied

Harrison placidly. "The shipping business is your
province, but the law office is wholly mine."

"And you can do whatever you like with it, so

why ask us about it at all?"

Elizabeth watched the two of them, impressed by

the way Harrison was managing to control his
temper. "I'm not asking you. I'm informing you of
the decision I have taken."

"He'll have your clerks on strike before the year

is out," prophesied Todd.

"They're too well paid to bother going on strike,"

Harrison retorted, wryly.

"You haven't asked Daniel yet, I take it?" queried

Elizabeth, attempting to calm the atmosphere in the
room.

"No, I'm going to ask him tonight."
"And what if he refuses?" she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders slightly in confusion.

"Todd will be happy, anyway."

"But not you?"
Harrison made no attempt to answer her

question. "I have to go," he said instead. "I wanted
you both to know what I was planning." He bent to
kiss his mother's forehead. "Don't worry about me, I
know what I'm doing. At least, I think I do."

After he had gone there was a heavy silence in

the room, broken at last by Elizabeth. "I don't like
all these arguments," she said, although her tone

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was far from critical.

Todd shrugged slightly, a movement very like his

brother's. "And you think I do?"

"I want you to stop arguing, Todd - at least about

this one subject. Daniel Harper's friendship means
a lot to Harry and I don't want to see him hurt."

"Neither do I, but I can't help thinking that

Harper will let him down in the end."

"Just let it take its course, then and leave him

alone. Your brother is old enough to choose his own
friends, and we should respect his decisions."

Her elder son nodded reluctant agreement. "If

that's what you want me to do, Mother, but I think
we'll be making a big mistake; one that we may all
regret in the end."

"That's a risk we'll have to take," she told him

quietly, picking up her book again; the Lady of
Shallot had no family to contend with, decided
Elizabeth, who felt the troubles of Tennyson's
heroine were becoming somewhat trivial in
comparison with her own.

"Well," began Daniel, later that evening when

Joseph had gone to bed and they were finally able
to relax over a glass of whisky and a cigar, "what
was it you wanted to speak to me about?"

Harrison hesitated, uncertain now how to begin.

His friend was proud and independent and the last
thing he wanted to do was to sound overbearing or
critical of him in any way.

"I would like you to listen to me properly before

you make any comment, if you will."

"Very well."

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"My chief clerk isn't getting any younger,"

Harrison began.

"What does that … " Daniel, who had spoken

instinctively, fell silent again as Harrison's blue
eyes accused him of interrupting. "Sorry."

"I would like you come and work in my office,

with a view to taking Mason's place in a few years
time."

Daniel stared at him. "I am a conveyancing and

probate clerk," he said. "I know nothing at all about
business and contract law."

"You could learn; Mason would be a good

teacher." Harrison pressed home his argument. "It
would mean you wouldn't have to go to live in
Manchester, or Joe leave his school."

"Is that why you're doing this, because of

Joseph?"

"Partly - and partly because I think both of you

deserve some help." Harrison saw the look on
Daniel's face, and knew at once that he had said the
wrong thing.

"I told you, we don't need charity - not even

yours."

"Damn it, man, it isn't charity! I need a clerk; you

need a job - and Joseph needs to get a good
education if he's to make anything of his life."
Harrison paused. "But it isn't only Joseph I'm
thinking of," he continued quietly. "It's you. You
know Byrd will never give you a reference; what
kind of work do you think you'll get without one?
Whatever it is, you can certainly do better than
that."

"By accepting charity from you?"

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"By accepting help from a friend who cares

enough to offer it." However it was clear from
Daniel's refusal to look at him that there would be
no further discussion about the subject tonight.

Harrison stood up and threw the end of his cigar

into the fire. "At least think about it," he urged.

When Daniel did not reply, however, he merely

collected his coat and left.

Alone again, Daniel stared into the fire. It would

make a good deal of sense to accept Harrison's
offer, but he did not want their friendship to be
based on need; there had to be equality between
them, or there was nothing.

Joseph, still awake, had heard their raised voices

and the door closing, followed by Harrison's
footsteps on the stairs. Now he crept across the
landing and into the parlour. "Dad?" he began,
nervously.

"You should be asleep, Joe."
Encouraged by the neutral tone of his father's

voice, the boy crept closer. "Were you and Mr
Calderwood fighting again?"

It was a good question, thought Daniel; lately, he

and Harrison always seemed to be on opposite
sides. Holding out his hand, he drew Joseph close
to him. "I don't know if we were or not; Mr
Calderwood wants me to go and work in his office."

Joe digested this news carefully. "What's the

matter? Don't you want to do it?"

"I've never been beholden to anybody before,"

his father informed him carefully, "and I'd rather not
be now."

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"But Mr Calderwood's your friend," insisted

Joseph, obviously puzzled.

"That is all the more reason to be careful. I

wouldn't want to lose his friendship."

Joseph thought about this for a moment. "But

friends help each other," he said, still puzzled.

Daniel looked at his son; she may have phrased

it differently but that was what Judith would have
said, too. They needed help, Harrison wanted to
help - where was the problem? And which was more
important, his pride or his son's well-being and
future? In the end, after all, there really was no
choice.

"Don't worry. We weren't arguing properly; I just

didn't want to hear the things he was saying, that's
all. I promise, in the morning I'll see Mr
Calderwood and tell him I accept his offer."

Not usually demonstrative, Joseph hugged his

father in response to this. Daniel returned the
embrace; then ruffled his son's hair. "Come on, back
to bed with you," he told him kindly.

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CHAPTER 9

Harrison awoke the next morning in no more

cheerful frame of mind than when he had finally
gone to sleep. Whoever it was who said things
always looked better in the morning, they clearly
didn't know what they were talking about!

He shivered slightly as he left his warm bed; he

was used to the chill of early morning, though, and
it wasn't worthwhile to have the fire lit when he was
going to be out all day. The familiar routine of
getting washed and dressed left him free to think
about the events of the previous night and he could
see now the mistakes he had made; there were
certainly better ways he could have dealt with the
issue, but the truth was that he had totally
misjudged Daniel's probable reaction to his
proposition and had no doubt placed far more faith
in their growing friendship than it warranted.

Growing friendship? Was that even the right

expression for it? Harper probably never wanted to
see him again, decided Harrison, closing his
leather dressing-case with a snap. His whole
instinct now was to go and see Daniel, to try to
persuade him to change his mind, but that would
almost certainly only make things worse between
them than they already were.

They were half-way through breakfast when

Grainger came into the dining-room. "A letter for
Mister Harrison, madam; the messenger said it was
urgent."

Harrison tore open the envelope and dropped it

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onto the table as he read through the letter. "It's
from Daniel," he said. "He wants to see me later this
morning."

"What about?" asked Todd.
"I'll have to wait until I see him to find that out,

but I'll tell you all about it later."

Elizabeth recognised evasion when she saw it,

and fully expected Todd to challenge the statement,
but uncharacteristically for him he let it pass
without comment. Thankful to be able to have
breakfast in peace, therefore, she did not ask any
questions either.

Harrison put down his cup of tea and checked

his watch again; it was a quarter past ten. He
closed the case and returned the watch to his
waistcoat pocket. He could not decide whether to
wait a little longer or leave the café and go to the
shelter to seek out Daniel, since it appeared he
wasn't going to keep the appointment he himself
had proposed.

"Harrison."
He looked around at the sound of Daniel's voice,

surprised to see he had brought his son with him
since it was only Wednesday. "Hello Daniel, Joseph;
please, sit down."

Daniel remained where he was, so Harrison

spoke to Joseph. "No school today?"

"No, sir, special holiday; something to do with

the man who started the school."

Harrison looked up at Daniel. "Please sit down,"

he repeated. "Would you like some tea?" Not
waiting for an answer, he beckoned the waitress

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over.

"We didn't come for tea."
"I see." Harrison kept the disappointment out of

his voice and took refuge in the calm neutrality of
his professional personality. "Then what do you
want?"

Daniel gazed down at him for a second or so,

obviously surprised by the change of tone.
"Nothing. It was a mistake, we shouldn't have come.
I'm sorry to have bothered you. Come on, Joseph."

"Daniel!" Harrison stood up, silently praying for

the right words. "Daniel, please, sit down and have
some tea. We are still friends, aren't we?"

"For a moment I wasn't at all certain," replied

Harper, ruefully.

Harrison looked towards the patient waitress.

"Another pot of tea please, and a glass of milk." He
glanced at Joseph. "Is it too early for a slice of
cake?"

"No, sir, I don't think so."
"And a slice of cake, please," added Harrison

with a smile.

"Yes, sir." Efficiently, she collected the used cup

and teapot and swept away.

"Daniel, about last night; I'm sorry. What I said

was tactless, and you had every right to … "

"No," interrupted Daniel. "It was a generous offer

and kindly meant. It's I who should apologise."

"Well, then, I suggest we dispense with

apologies altogether and begin all over again. What
do you say?"

"Yes, thank you. I'd like that."
The waitress returned with a tray of tea and a

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large slice of Victoria Sponge, which she placed in
front of Joseph.

"Thank you, miss, we'll pour for ourselves."
Daniel took charge of the tea pot and poured a

cup for himself and Harrison. "Joseph and I did
some talking last night after you left," he said.

"Yes?" asked Harrison cautiously, trying not to

show how much he wanted Daniel to agree to
accept his offer.

"If the position is still available, then I would

very much like to come and work for you."

Pleasure and relief bubbled up in Harrison. "This

really calls for champagne rather than tea," he
declared, exuberantly.

"It's been a long time since I drank champagne,"

admitted Daniel, with a wistful smile.

"In that case, perhaps we'll save the experience

for another occasion."

Daniel dropped his gaze to stare into his teacup.

"I'm not sure what that would be," he replied.

"Oh, it could be almost anything! You're a man

who fights for what he believes in, after all, and you
go after what you want - no matter what the odds
may be."

"You make me sound like a knight-errant," said

Daniel dismissively, then turned the conversation
deftly towards less dangerous ground. "When would
you want me to begin my new duties?"

"Would Monday morning be too soon?" Harrison

asked him, hopefully.

"No, of course not."
"Wages," said Harrison briskly. "I'm willing to

pay you what Byrd paid you, plus an additional five

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shillings a week."

"I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I don't

understand why you would want to pay more than
is necessary."

Harrison smiled. "Knowing what a skinflint Byrd

is, I thought the additional amount would bring
your remuneration up to the level of my other
clerks. No preferential treatment, Daniel, I promise.
I'll let you sort out the details with my cashier."

The conversation drifted into other channels,

and as soon as Joseph had finished his cake Daniel
stood up. "It's time we were going to the shelter," he
said.

"Today?" asked Harrison surprised.
"Yes, just for an hour or so; Father Ashmore said

he was bringing the new curate over to have a look
around today, and I'd like to be there to meet him.
Say goodbye, Joseph."

"Goodbye, sir. Thank you for the cake."
"You're welcome." Harrison held out his hand to

Daniel. "I'll see you on Monday, then."

Harrison watched them leave, then called the

waitress over to ask for the bill.

Todd waited until they were alone that evening

before tackling Harrison once again about his
decision to employ Daniel.

"Can't you see how wrong this is? The man is a

known troublemaker."

"I don't agree with that, and this is simply a

matter of business. Since when have you been
averse to making money?"

Todd refused to be sidetracked by this argument.

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"Since when have you been averse to telling the
truth? This isn't for the family at all, or even for the
benefit of your own practice."

Startled by this unexpected insight into his

motives, Harrison held his ground. "It will be good
for the practice, in the long run; Mason isn't getting
any younger, and Daniel is very good at his job.
Besides, if he's out of work for much longer he may
have difficulty finding the money to be able to keep
Joseph in school."

"He should have thought of that before he took

up politics," returned Todd sourly. "I don't approve
of this at all. I think you're setting far too much
store by this friendship, and I'm afraid it won't end
well."

"Surely that's a risk for me to take?" Harrison

challenged, mildly.

"No, not entirely; your actions, whatever they

are, have repercussions for the rest of the family. We
don't live on a desert island, Harry; everything we
do is noticed and commented on by other people."

"I refuse to live my life worrying about whether

or not some small-minded society nobody approves
of my actions," his brother told him, with a
determined set to his jaw.

"I see. And do we fit into that category?"
"No, of course not. I probably shouldn't have said

that."

"I just want you to be careful," Todd told him, as

though it was an answer to everything.

Harrison nodded. It was impossible to make

Todd understand how he felt, and it would probably
be better not even to attempt it.

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As a junior clerk, Daniel's arrival the following

Monday morning to work in Harrison's office made
very little impact on his fellow employees. There
was some gossip about his dismissal from Byrd's,
but the general opinion was that he was very
pleasant and worked hard - and everybody knew
that Byrd was a bastard anyway.

True to its reputation, that November was a

miserable month. Storms and fog kept shipping out
of the port and, when the ships did manage to get
in, heavy rain made the work of shifting their
cargoes difficult and unpleasant. More families
were therefore obliged to seek help from the
charities, and its location in the middle of the courts
meant that the Eden Street shelter became one of
the busiest of them.

As Christmas approached, however, a change in

the weather to more settled conditions brought
relief to everyone. The elderly and very young
suffered the most from the low temperatures, but it
also meant that the men could work and provide for
their families.

Entering a large store, which was bright and

warm after the cold wind outside, Harrison
loosened his scarf and glanced around. He was in
the crowded jewellery department, where people
were clustered in front of the display counters. He
had no idea what he was looking for; Christmas
gifts for the family had been bought weeks before,
and he always gave the staff in his office a cash
bonus which made life simple. Joseph was easy

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enough to buy for, too; there were a dozen things a
boy of his age would enjoy. He remembered past
Christmases and the gifts he had received; for a
long time his favourites had been a fort with a
garrison of soldiers. Buying something for Joseph
would be a pleasure.

The difficulty occupying his thoughts now was

Daniel. Harrison wanted a gift for him that would
represent how much he appreciated and enjoyed
their friendship, but he could not decide on
anything that would be suitable. Something too
expensive would be bound to make Daniel uneasy;
something too personal, like cuff links, would
probably have the same effect.

He left the jewellery section and climbed idly up

the wide, elegant stairs that curved up to the next
floor. This brought him to the ladies' clothing
department where a shawl draped around the
shoulders of a model caught his attention; in a deep
blue, dark green and white check it was obviously
meant for a young woman, and he thought
instinctively of Rebecca. On impulse, he decided to
buy it for her; Rebecca made a very important
contribution to the work of the shelter, and this
would be a suitable gift to thank her for all her
endeavours; surely nobody could object to his
buying a shawl for her - not even Todd!

The saleswoman wrapped it up for him, took the

payment and handed the parcel over. "There you
are, sir, thank you."

"Thank you. Can you remind me where the

stationery department is, please?"

"This floor, sir, at the far end in the other

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building."

Harrison nodded to show he had understood the

instructions. The store had originally comprised two
separate buildings, and the owner had built
corridors and extra sales space to connect them;
this was confusing to many new visitors, but easy to
negotiate for the regular customers.

The china department came first, then the small

section devoted to diaries, address books, notebooks
and pens. A display of Christmas cards was
surrounded by eager shoppers and, avoiding the
crowd, Harrison went over to look at the items on
display in the glass-topped counter, hoping to find
some inspiration there.

"May I help you, sir?" asked a salesman, moving

towards him almost silently.

"I wish you could." Harrison paused and glanced

at the items lying against the cream satin lining of
the counter. "I'm looking for a gift for a friend; a
man."

"These are new, sir; we haven't had them in

before." The assistant placed a tray of propelling
pencils on the counter-top.

"I hadn't thought of one of these, but it's a good

idea." Harrison picked one up and examined it
thoughtfully. "Do you have any others?"

The man produced another tray, and

immediately Harrison's attention was caught by one
in particular. He picked it out and held it, to test the
comfort of its shape; it had the curves and lines of a
piece of bamboo, but all modelled in silver. It was
comfortable to hold, personal without being too
intimate, exactly what he had been hoping to find.

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"Is it solid silver?" he asked, doubtfully.
"No, sir, a silver finish."
"Perfect. I'll take it." He would have paid any

price but knew Daniel would object strongly to
accepting anything he thought too expensive;
however not even Daniel could object to the pencil
having only a silver finish.

Pleased with his purchases so far, Harrison

headed for the toy department; he was looking
forward to finding something that Joseph would
enjoy.

The whole family were at home for the evening;

unusually there were no meetings to attend, no
visitors, and there was no reason not to broach the
subject on his mind, but Harrison was reluctant to
break the peaceful scene. Todd was relaxed and at
ease, enjoying his after-dinner brandy and cigar;
his mother, her hands unoccupied for once, was
gazing into the fire lost in thought, and Alex had
resumed trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle which she
had abandoned the previous evening.

Harrison swirled the brandy in his own glass,

resolving that if he was going to speak at all it
would have to be now.

"Mother." She looked across at him expectantly.

Having gained her attention, he came straight to
the point. "I would like to invite Daniel to dinner,"
he said.

"What?" The exclamation came from Todd, who

was no longer leaning back in his chair. "You want
to invite one of your employees to dinner with the
family?"

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"Daniel is my friend," Harrison protested,

quietly. He was tired of having to make this point
over and over again.

"And you know what I think about that!"

Exasperated, Todd threw his half-finished cigar into
the fire.

"Mother?" asked Harrison. After all, it was her

decision that counted with him.

"Mother, you can't possibly agree to this!"
Elizabeth looked across at her elder son. "Why

ever not? This

is still my house, Todd, and surely it

must be my decision who enters it?"

Harrison gave an inward sigh of relief. Todd had

definitely gone too far this time; nobody tried to tell
their mother what she could and could not do - she
had developed a habit of proving them wrong.

"That apart," she continued, "I like Mr Harper."

She paused there, before returning her attention to
Harrison. "Have you asked Daniel about this?"

"No, Mother, I wanted to speak to the family

first."

"Will he be quite comfortable about dining here?"

she asked, sympathetically.

Uncertain about that himself, Harrison ignored

his few misgivings. "Why not? He knows everyone
here, except Todd."

"Well, if you're sure about this, then it will be a

pleasure to invite him to dine with us. What about
the Sunday before Christmas, the twentieth?" she
added, after a moment's thought.

"Caroline and her brother are dining with us that

night," objected Todd, brusquely.

"I know that perfectly well, thank you," replied

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his mother. "Well, Harry?"

Harrison did not want to upset Todd any more

than could be helped. "Are you quite sure about the
date?" he asked his mother.

Elizabeth watched her younger son carefully

before responding. "I assume you intend to keep
Daniel as a friend?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes, of course."
"Well, then, if Caroline is going to be a part of

our family she will have to meet all our friends and
judge them for herself."

"Mother?"
"No, Todd, I mean what I say. If I can accept

your friends - and not all of them are gentlemen by
any standard - then you can accept Daniel. I'll write
an invitation to him for dinner on the twentieth;
now, can we please discuss something else?"

The next day, Harrison called at the Duke Street

lodgings on his way home; Mrs Foxley let him into
the hall, and quickly shut the door against the gusts
of sleety rain.

"Is Mr Harper at home?" he asked her.
"Yes, sir, he is. Do you want to go straight on up?"
Harrison smiled at her; he had clearly been

accepted as an appendage to the Harper family.

"I will, if you think that will be acceptable."
She responded to his comment with a toss of her

head. "Go on with you, your legs are younger than
mine." And, not waiting for an answer, she went
back into her own room and left him to it.

Joseph opened the door to his knock, and stood

back to let Harrison in. "Dad's in the bedroom, I'll

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go and get him."

Left alone Harrison took off his hat and gloves,

placing them on the dining table next to Joseph's
books. He unbuttoned his top-coat and moved over
to stand by the fire; newly-lit, its warmth had not
yet penetrated further than the hearth-rug.

"Harry?"
He turned at the sound of Daniel's voice,

responding to his presence with warm affection.

Daniel indicated one of the fireside chairs.

"Please, let me take your coat, then sit down and get
warm."

Harrison did as he was told, holding out his

hands to the fire.

"Would you like a drink?"
"Yes, thank you, I would."
Joseph joined them, shutting the door and

carefully drawing the curtain across to keep out
stray draughts before he settled himself on the rug
at Harrison's feet.

Handing Harrison a small glass of whisky,

Daniel sat down in the opposite chair. "Good
health."

"Good health." Putting down the glass, Harrison

took his mother's letter from the inside pocket of his
jacket.

"This is the reason I'm here," he said. Daniel took

the envelope with a querying look. Harrison shook
his head. "I have nothing to say. You'd better simply
read it."

Daniel did so, then glanced across to Harrison

uncertainly. "Dinner?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," agreed Harrison, his

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expression apologetic.

Joseph straightened up in interest, but Harrison

ruffled his hair in apology. "Sorry, old man, adults
only this time. We'll have tea some Sunday
afternoon instead."

With a nod of understanding Joseph settled

down again, this time leaning against Harrison's
knee.

"Whose idea was this?" demanded Daniel. "As if I

couldn't guess."

"Mine," admitted Harry. "But Mother didn't

disagree."

Having briefly seen Harrison's brother twice at

the house - when he had been all but ignored -
Daniel could imagine who

had disagreed, and was

not at all comfortable about the idea of attending a
dinner with him. He re-read the invitation; far from
formal, it was warm and gracious, but he was
acutely aware of his social position as Harrison's
employee. It made the acceptance of such an
invitation far too complicated, for himself as well as
for the family.

"Daniel?"
He looked up, his expression troubled. "I don't

know about this, Harry," he admitted.

"But you know

her," said Harrison. "She never

says anything she doesn't mean, and she doesn't
much like to be thwarted."

Daniel smiled, several visits to the house

enabling him to recognise the truth of this
description of Elizabeth Calderwood. "Who else will
be there?"

"My brother, Todd; his fiancée Caroline Seward;

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her brother, Stephen - oh, and Alex, of course."

Daniel nodded. He had heard a little about Miss

Seward from Alex, and knew that she belonged to
one of the most influential families in the city. He
took a deep breath, wondering at the unexpected
invitation and what it would entail. Having been
brought up by Elizabeth Calderwood, presumably
her eldest son must share at least some of
Harrison's attitudes; his reputation as an employer
was a reasonable one, he was demanding but fair,
and no man was ever turned off from his
employment unless he fully deserved it. It was
possible, therefore, that he could be misjudging
Todd, who must surely know about and approve of
this invitation.

"Thank your mother for me, will you? I'll write

her a proper acceptance and have it delivered
tomorrow."

Satisfied, Harrison smiled, finished off his

whisky and stood up. "I'm glad that's sorted out." He
reached for his coat. "I'd better be getting home, I'm
afraid."

Joseph stood up, clearly disappointed.
"I'll be back," Harrison promised the boy. "Keep

Friday evening free for me."

"Dad?" asked Joseph, looking to his father for

approval of this arrangement.

"We'll expect you for dinner on Friday, then, if

that's convenient?" responded Daniel warmly.

"Mrs Foxley keeps a good table; I'm happy to

accept."

Daniel walked down to the hall with him, and

Harrison shook hands before once more pulling on

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his gloves. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, taking
his departure.

"Yes." But that would be at the office and their

relationship there was very different.

Daniel pulled open the front door, letting in a

blast of cold damp air. When Harrison had gone he
quickly closed the door again and leaned back
against it, telling himself over and over again that
he should have refused the invitation. It would be
easy to accept such overtures of friendship if all he
felt for Harrison was desire, but he knew he was
falling in love with the man - and that had the
potential to be a very much more complicated
matter altogether.

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CHAPTER 10

Daniel took his best suit from the clothes

cupboard and hung it on the back of the bedroom
door to air. It had not been worn since Judith's
funeral but had gone to the pawnshop several
times, the latest occasion being when he had been
dismissed from Scotts.

Mrs Calderwood's invitation had said it was an

informal dinner; this certainly wasn't a dinner
jacket, but it was the best he could do. He ran his
fingers over the fabric. The cut was old fashioned
now, but the material and finish were good; he
needed a new shirt and tie, but he would get those
today before going to the shelter. If they set off now,
he and Joseph could go to the Little Café after they
had finished their shopping.

He collected his coat and scarf and went to call

across the landing to Joseph. Mrs Foxley was
clearing away their breakfast dishes, and when
Daniel came back into the room he said, "Will it still
be all right for you to keep an eye on Joseph
tomorrow evening?"

"Of course. I'll give him his dinner downstairs

with me."

"Are you sure? I don't want him to be any trouble

to you."

"He's no trouble," replied Mrs Foxley. "We'll

enjoy each other's company. Besides, I can't
remember when you last had a night out."

"Thank you." He turned as Joseph erupted into

the room. "Slow down, Joe! Are you ready to go?"

The boy nodded vigorously.

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"Then carry the tray downstairs for Mrs Foxley,

and we'll be on our way."

"This won't take long, I hope," said Daniel as

they walked down Bold Street into the crowds of
people; all, like them, were intent on shopping.

"I just like being out, the two of us," said his son.
Daniel smiled. "Well, just to keep you going, I

thought we could go to the Little Café afterwards."

They soon arrived at the gentlemen's outfitters

Daniel preferred; not cheap, but not too expensive
either. The two of them conferred over the shirt and
tie, and at the last minute Daniel decided to invest
in a new waistcoat too. Joseph had decided views
on what a good waistcoat looked like, but Daniel
made the conservative choice; he thought the soft
dove grey silk with a small woven pattern suited
both the occasion and his social position.

"Is that all?" asked Joseph, when they had left

the shop.

Since he had spent almost a week's wages,

Daniel's reply was vehement. "Definitely! Now we
can go and get something to eat."

The following evening, hidden in the shadow of

the trees, Daniel looked across at the Calderwood
house with mixed feelings; in the past he had
attended many similar functions and a part of him
wanted to regain that acceptance, but he hesitated
to believe that it was truly

going to be possible.

Although he and Joseph had visited several

times, this was undoubtedly going to be different;
he and Harrison moved in completely separate

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worlds socially, and associated with very different
groups of people.

A carriage pulled up in front of the house and a

young couple emerged from it, to disappear into the
light and warmth of the interior; they would be
Todd Calderwood's fiancée Miss Seward and her
brother, Daniel supposed.

He straightened up and gathered up his

courage; he and Harrison had at least one thing in
common, he reminded himself - they shared the
aim of obtaining justice for people who were unable
to speak for themselves. Moreover, Harrison and
his mother thought he was good enough company
to invite to meet their friends. Daniel clung to that
thought as he walked towards the house.

The door was opened by a footman in a dark coat

and striped waistcoat.

"Mr Harper. I am expected."
"Come in, sir."
Stepping into the hallway Daniel surrendered

coat, hat and gloves to this stranger.

"Daniel!"
He turned in relief to see Harrison striding

towards him, a welcoming smile lighting his face.
He took hold of Daniel's hand in greeting. "I was
afraid you might change your mind."

"I nearly did, but here I am anyway." Daniel tried

to cover his confusion; Harrison looked more
handsome than ever in evening dress.

"We're in the drawing-room," said Harrison,

ushering him towards it.

The footman hurried past them to answer

another ring of the doorbell.

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"Who is the new servant?" asked Daniel,

curiously.

"His name is Bernard Griffiths; he's the green-

grocer's son."

"Really?" This seemed an unlikely piece of

information somehow.

"Yes; he helps out whenever we have visitors."
Harrison opened the drawing-room door, placed

a hand on Daniel's shoulder and gently pushed him
forward. Once inside, Elizabeth came to greet him,
both hands extended in welcome. "I'm so glad
you're here." She took Daniel's arm, ignored
established convention, and cheerfully made the
introductions herself.

Harrison stood to one side; his mother's relaxed

attitude would set the tone for the rest of the guests,
and he was happy enough to leave everything to
her.

The dining-room was lit by candles; Elizabeth

preferred them for dining, rather than the gas light
installed in the rest of the house, and as a result the
table glittered, silverware, glass and china
sparkling in the soft light. Silver ribbon, entwined
with sprays of holly and ivy, meandered down the
centre of the table and curled around the bases of
the candelabra.

Daniel found his place between Caroline and

Alexandra, opposite Frances Weston who had been
introduced as an old friend of the family; her
familiarity towards Harrison, who sat next to her,
was almost like a mark of ownership. Elizabeth sat
at the head of the table, with Todd presiding at the

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other end.

The footman brought round a dish of prawns,

olives and anchovies, and Daniel helped himself to
a small amount.

"Are you not having any olives, Miss Alexandra?"

he asked.

"No." She smiled at him. "I don't like them

myself, but they're included because Todd loves
them."

"I see."
Todd glared at her, but she took no notice and

continued her conversation. "Have you made any
plans for Christmas, Mr Harper?"

"Not really; Joseph and I will be at the shelter for

at least part of the day. What about you?"

"Oh, we always spend Christmas Day together -

as a family." She glanced up the table. "Sometimes
we can even persuade Harrison to sing." This drew
a warning look from her other cousin, which she
also ignored. "He has a lovely voice, but will never
join in any musical evenings."

"I'm usually out," protested Harrison, "that's

why."

"Yes," added his mother, "by design."
Caroline turned to Daniel. "Tell me, Mr Harper,

how did you and Harry meet?"

"Completely by accident, Miss Seward," he said,

hoping that she would not enquire further. Caroline
Seward, however, was made of sterner stuff.

"But you seem to be such good friends; surely

there must be more to it than that?"

"Well, I suppose there is; Harrison became

interested in a charity undertaking I'm involved

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with."

"Oh, is this the shelter that you mentioned?"
"Yes, it is."
"Harry's always down there," put in Todd, gruffly.

"Tell Miss Seward what line of business you're
involved in, Harper; what you do for a living, I
mean."

Daniel glanced towards Harrison, who nodded

encouragingly, and therefore he felt secure in
answering.

"Because of my political activities I was

dismissed from my position as a clerk with Scott,
Byrd and Company. Harrison has kindly given me a
post in his office instead."

"I see." The response was no more than distantly

polite.

"He's training to be my chief clerk," said

Harrison. "For when Mason finally decides to
retire."

"That must be very interesting," Caroline

commented, clearly aware of the rest of the table
listening closely.

"Not nearly as exciting as leading strikes, I'd

imagine," put in Todd, brusquely.

His words dropped into the conversation like

stones into a pond, ripples of reaction spreading out
around the table.

"You knew about that?" asked Harrison, in

surprise

"No, not at first - but it didn't take much effort to

work it out."

Elizabeth spoke up then, before the situation had

a chance to become really difficult. "This is hardly a

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suitable conversation for the dinner table," she
reminded them. "Frances, tell us about your sister's
trip to Paris to visit your brother. How is he, these
days?"

"He's well, thank you, Mrs Calderwood. He's

sharing an apartment with another artist."

This was, in fact, scarcely a less contentious

subject, although Harrison and Todd made no
comment to that effect. It was common knowledge,
in fact, that James Weston - like many other men -
had left England because he feared prosecution; he
was supposedly studying art in Paris, but he was
not expected to be returning to England. However
it was sufficient of a diversion from politics, and the
conversation soon widened to the more general
subject of travel.

Following Todd's revelation about the strike,

however, Daniel said very little; he ate the food
placed in front of him, responded politely if spoken
to, but did not initiate conversation and did his best
to remain inconspicuous at the table.

Finally the port was to be served, and the four

women left to continue their own conversation in
the sitting-room without the constraining presence
of the men.

Caroline sipped her coffee slowly and watched

the other women with interest. Alexandra's father
had been in the Indian Army and had risen through
the ranks; refreshingly, she had none of the false
pride often exhibited by such people, who often
gave themselves more airs and graces than any
Duke.

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Frances had better lineage, but money had not

followed the blood-line; an old friend of the family,
everyone had thought she and Harry would make a
match eventually - but it was rumoured she was
being courted by a barrister with chambers in the
city. Just as well if she was, for Harry seemed to be
in no hurry to settle and Frances was not getting
any younger.

Caroline glanced at Elizabeth, sitting next to her

on the sofa. "You're very thoughtful," the older
woman smiled encouragingly.

"I was reflecting how very different we all are,"

replied Caroline, "yet we are all good friends."

"Yes." Elizabeth looked over to where Alex and

Frances were exclaiming over a photograph album.
"I think friendship is one of the most precious
blessings we can ever possess."

Caroline hesitated. "Are you referring to

Harrison's friendship with Mr Harper? The
situation is most unusual, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Had Todd not mentioned him to you?"
"No, he hadn't; never a word."
"I'm afraid he doesn't approve," remarked

Elizabeth.

Caroline nodded. "His attitude at dinner made

that very clear."

Elizabeth reached across and took hold of the

younger woman's hand. "I had hoped you might be
able to counter that attitude in him," she confided.

"Me? How could I?" Caroline wasn't even sure

this was something she wanted to do; Harper
himself had seemed pleasant enough, but it was a
very odd situation all round.

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Elizabeth's smile was warm. "Simply by being

yourself, my dear; use your own judgement, not my
son's."

Caroline nodded slowly and allowed herself to

consider the matter more fully. Her relationship
with Elizabeth was a good one and she wanted to
keep her future mother-in-law's approval, even
though it was clear from the events of the evening
that Elizabeth's sympathies were not with Todd
when it came to the subject of Daniel Harper.

"I promise to decide for myself on the basis of Mr

Harper's character and behaviour, not his position -
or lack of it - in society," she returned, after a long
pause for thought.

Elizabeth squeezed her hand gently before

releasing it again. "That is all I ask," she said, and
they moved on to talk of other matters.

When the men came into the sitting-room, it was

clear to Elizabeth that their exchanges over the port
had not resolved anything. Todd was encased in the
stiff silence of thwarted endeavour; Harrison was
quiet, but to her eyes clearly angry with his brother.
Stephen came over to join her and Caroline where
they sat, and began a conversation about nothing in
particular.

Frances was showing Harrison a photograph in

the album. He was listening to her attentively
enough, but Elizabeth could tell that his thoughts
were not with Frances and the past.

Daniel finished his conversation with Alexandra

and came over to speak to Elizabeth. "Thank you for
inviting me tonight, Mrs Calderwood, but I'm afraid

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I will have to take my leave of you now; Joseph is
with Mrs Foxley, and I'm worried that he might be
too much of a handful for her to manage."

Elizabeth did not protest this clear slander of his

son. "I'm sorry you have to go, Mr Harper," she said,
clearly enough to be heard throughout the room,
"but I hope you'll be able to visit us again very
soon."

"I hope so, too; thank you." He turned to

Caroline. "It was a pleasure to meet you and your
brother, Miss Seward, but I'm afraid I must bid you
goodnight."

"The pleasure was mutual, Mr Harper," she

nodded, smiling.

With a polite nod to Stephen Daniel made his

way out of the room, speaking to Frances and
Harrison but ignoring Todd completely and very
pointedly.

Elizabeth sighed as Harrison left Alexandra and

Frances and followed Daniel out into the hall.

"Daniel, I didn't realise Todd knew, he'd said

nothing to me about it. Nothing at all."

At the sound of Harrison's voice, the butler came

out of the dining-room. "Sir?"

"May I have my coat, please?" requested Daniel,

before Harrison could reply.

"Of course, sir."
"Daniel?" It would have been foolish for Harrison

to pretend that he did not know what had upset his
friend; Todd's behaviour over dinner had been that
of an insufferable boor, a man who could tolerate
the existence of no point of view other than his own.

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Harrison was aware that this was not an accurate
picture of his brother, but he was at a loss to know
how to correct it - and, meanwhile, Daniel had been
obliged to suffer because of his brother's
ungentlemanly conduct. "I can only apologise … "
he began helplessly, but Daniel stopped him in his
tracks.

"I appreciate your help, Harrison," said Daniel,

calmly, "and your mother is one of the most gracious
women I have ever met, but it's very clear to me
that I simply don't belong here. Todd has been very
honest about that, at least, whatever else I may
think about him."

"As my friend, Daniel, you will always be

welcome here." But it was nothing like enough,
somehow.

Daniel shook his head. "Given the

circumstances, I'm afraid I don't think that the two
of us can properly remain friends," he said, in a tone
of great reluctance.

Harrison was appalled. "Surely you don't mean

that!" he protested.

Grainger had brought Daniel's coat, and now

helped him into it.

"You're wrong," insisted Harrison, a rising tide of

panic rushing through him.

"Thank you." Daniel accepted his hat and gloves

from the butler, who retired discreetly to the far end
of the hallway. "I'm sorry, Harry, I think it's for the
best."

Harrison wanted to grab hold of Daniel, to keep

him there by force, to argue him out of his
preposterous ideas, to appeal unashamedly to the

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warmth of their relationship, and knew
unequivocally that he could do none of those
things; Grainger was waiting to open the door to let
Daniel out, and his mother's guests were waiting for
him to return.

"I'll see you before Christmas, though?" he

countered helplessly.

"Of course. Joseph is relying on it."
And that was it. When Daniel had gone,

Harrison stood in the hallway for a moment to
compose his thoughts. He refused to believe that
the two of them could not be friends, whatever Todd
might say - or even Daniel himself - and he was
determined not to let the matter rest where it was.

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CHAPTER 11

A tall Christmas tree stood in the window bay of

the drawing-room, the curtains still open behind it
although it was almost dark. Tinsel and glass
ornaments sparkled as they caught flickers of the
lamp and firelight, the occasional crackle of the fire
a contrast to the measured tick of the mantelpiece
clock.

A Christmas Carol lay open but forgotten on

Harrison's knee while he gazed into the flames. He
had no idea what he should do about the situation
between himself and Daniel; at the office Daniel
had been formal and distant since the dinner party,
but then he was always formal and distant at work.
Harrison's mother had received a note of thanks
after the dinner party, but there had been no other
communication. He had wanted to call in at the
Duke Street rooms, but there had literally been no
time to do so in the week before Christmas.

"You're very quiet," his mother remarked.
Harrison looked across to Elizabeth, who had

put down her crochet work. "I'm still recovering
from Mrs Grainger's excellent lunch," he replied.

Elizabeth, however, was not to be put off. "Is

everything all right between you and Daniel?" she
asked.

"To be honest, I don't quite know. Perhaps

inviting him to dinner wasn't such a good idea after
all."

"Nonsense. Daniel Harper was the equal of

anybody in that room. I wasn't born with a silver
spoon in my mouth, and neither was your father; we

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worked hard and took risks to acquire our place in
society." She took a deep breath. "Todd is going to
make a very good marriage and I'm happy for him,
but I sometimes think he'd like to forget that his
great-grandfather kept a ships' chandlers."

Harrison smiled warmly at her agitation.

"Smooth down your feathers," he suggested. "It's a
good thing he's not here."

Elizabeth picked up her work again, seeming to

pay no attention to the darting hook catching the
fine thread to produce a growing web of lace. "It
was good of him to take Alex with him to the
Seward house for tea," she observed.

"He didn't have much choice, the way she

badgered him."

Elizabeth smiled at the memory, then sobered. "I

hope she isn't expecting too much."

"From Stephen, do you mean?"
She nodded. "He could do far better for himself

than an Indian Army orphan, and I'm sure he
knows it."

"Stephen seems sensible and kind, though; I

don't think he would allow her to have any
expectations which he wasn't prepared to meet."

"Well, it does no good at all to worry about it,"

responded Elizabeth, sensibly. "Why don't you go
down to visit Daniel?" she asked.

"Today?"
"Yes. Why not?"
"Two reasons," he replied, smiling. "One, I

wouldn't leave you on your own on Christmas Day."
He ignored his mother's snort of indignation, and
continued. "Two, he and Joseph are spending part

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of the day at the shelter." He glanced at the clock.
"Although they may well be home by now."

"Tomorrow, then?"
"We'll all be at the Jessops' tomorrow, remember?

It's Boxing Day."

"I'd forgotten that," she admitted, with a sigh.
"It won't be that bad, surely, as long as Henry

doesn't sing?"

Under the circumstances, Elizabeth was willing

to let this slur on her cousin's musical ability go
unchallenged. "What about Sunday then?"

"Yes, I'll probably go on Sunday," he conceded,

almost reluctantly.

Rolling up her work, Elizabeth put it to one side.

"How would you like me to make some toast?" she
suggested brightly.

Harrison chuckled. "We haven't had toast on

Christmas Day for years," he said.

"Well, it's nearly tea time and this fire would be

quite perfect for making toast. You see to the
curtains and pull the small table closer to the fire,
I'll go and raid Mrs Grainger's kitchen."

"Just don't get caught," her son warned her, with

a mischievous grin.

"It's my kitchen, too," she protested, although

they both knew that this was a matter of some
debate in the household.

Pulling the brocade drapes across to keep out

the cold Harrison took the opportunity to glance out
into the darkness, remembering the evening when
Daniel had waited for him in the square. He and
Daniel would sort everything out eventually, he felt
sure, although it could well take some time; their

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friendship was the most important relationship he
had outside the family, however, and he was not
prepared to let it go without putting up a fight.

On Sunday, Harrison went to the eight o'clock

service with his mother. She preferred its quiet
simplicity to the high ritual and fashionable
congregation of the later morning service; Todd and
Alex would attend that, the one because he would
have a chance to see his business associates, and
the other because she did not enjoy getting up
early, especially in the winter darkness.

The church was cold; not even summer could

ever warm it up. After the service they exchanged
greetings with the vicar, then set off back up the hill
to breakfast and a warm fire. The first flakes of
snow were beginning to fall as they left.

"I'm going down to see Daniel after breakfast,"

Harrison informed his mother as they walked.

"I'm glad about that. I wouldn't want him to feel

that he and Joseph can no longer visit us," she
replied, "simply because Todd is choosing to be
difficult."

"I wish I knew why he thought it was necessary

to treat Daniel the way he did the other evening,"
said Harrison, clearly still trying to assimilate his
brother's studied rudeness to their guest. "I really
don't understand that at all."

"There could be any number of reasons,"

Elizabeth informed him, mildly. "Social niceties of
rank, for instance."

"But he's never anything but polite to our people,

and he's always been pleasant enough to Mason

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whenever they've met."

Elizabeth glanced across at her son, melting

snowflakes clinging to his dark coat. "It's never
been so personal before, though, has it?"

"How can it be personal? He'd never even met

Daniel, until that night."

"But he had met you, though, Harry. You must

know much he worries about you."

It was true; Todd had always been very much the

big brother when they had been children, and even
more so after their father had died - although they
were both adults by then.

"What harm does he imagine could possibly

come from my association with Daniel, though?" he
asked, in some puzzlement.

"Think about it from Todd's point of view," his

mother advised, gently. "Daniel is a reformer, a
firebrand; his friendship could damage you
professionally."

"I think that's quite unlikely, though," countered

Harrison staunchly.

"But not quite impossible, you must admit. You

go down to the shelter, and that involves risk. You've
been hurt once already, and the epidemics that
sweep through those courts could affect you just as
easily as anyone living there."

Harrison did not reply. He had been angry with

Todd for not understanding his point of view, but
perhaps he had been just as blind himself. "I hadn't
thought of it that way. I'll try to be more patient with
him in future."

"Good." She slipped her hand into his, and

squeezed it affectionately. "I don't want you and

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Todd to drift apart over this - or anything else."

"We won't," he assured her. "Not if I can prevent

it."

"Then let's see if we can have Sunday breakfast

together without any arguments, shall we?" she
teased.

"All right. I promise faithfully not to say anything

that might upset my brother."

Elizabeth tightened her grip on his arm as the

thickening snow made the pavement slippery.
"Thank you, Harry - and please try to remember
that you said that, will you?"

The snow had stopped falling after breakfast

and, leaving the house, Harry blinked in the
unexpectedly bright sunlight; hopefully they had
seen the last of the snow now, at least for the next
few days. The steps down to the square and the
road itself were treacherous, the light covering of
snow beginning to melt already in the sunshine. He
set off across the square treading carefully,
unbalanced as he was by an armful of parcels.

Mrs Foxley opened the door just in time to catch

one of the boxes as it finally slithered from
Harrison's grasp.

"Thank you." He stepped into the hallway,

grateful to be on firm ground again. "My
compliments of the season, Mrs Foxley."

"Thank you, sir, and I wish the same to you."
"Is Mr Harper at home?"
"He is. Shall I help you with those?"
"Thank you, no." He placed some of the parcels

on the hall table. "I'll send Joseph down to collect

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these, if that's all right."

"Certainly." She put down the package she was

still holding.

"And this one is for you," he told her, putting it

into her hands.

Mrs Foxley took the offered parcel, not at all

sure what to say. "Thank you, sir, that's very kind."

"Not at all," he smiled. "In appreciation of all

your help, that's all."

A little embarrassed she nodded, relieved to see

Joseph come clattering down the stairs towards
them.

"I knew it was you! Hello again, Mrs Foxley," he

added politely.

"Well, sir, now you've got some help, I'll leave

you to it. Thank you again, sir."

"My pleasure," returned Harrison. When she had

closed the door to her room, he pointed out several
of the parcels. "You carry those, Joseph, and I'll
bring the others."

Hearing Harrison's voice from the hall, Daniel

was already standing in the doorway of their rooms
waiting for him and Joseph.

"A belated Happy Christmas," Harrison greeted

him cheerfully.

Daniel stood to one side. "Come in," he offered.
Harrison did so, putting the parcels down on the

table. "I hope I haven't called at an awkward time?"
he asked.

"No, we finished breakfast some while ago. May

I offer you something to keep the cold out?"

"Please," was the heartfelt response.
Harrison removed his gloves and scarf, handing

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his coat to Joseph before he settled into his
customary seat by the fire.

"Christmas cheer," he toasted, as Daniel handed

him a glass of sherry.

Daniel touched his glass briefly to the other.

"Cheers."

Harrison took a sip. "I wanted to apologise for

my brother's conduct the other evening," he began.

"You don't need to do that, Harrison. And

anyway, we both know he's right; I don't really
belong in your world."

"No, he isn't right; I won't accept that."
"

Won't?" repeated Daniel, clearly bemused.

"

Can't, then." Harrison took another drink,

disturbed by the unexpected fierceness of his
denial. "You'd better sort those parcels out, Joe."

Impatient to be doing just that, Joseph handed a

small parcel to his father, who read the inscription.
He looked up at Harrison. "I wasn't … "

"Never mind what you were or weren't

expecting," interrupted Harrison, kindly. "Go
ahead."

"Open it, Dad!" clamoured Joseph, less elegantly.
Carefully Daniel untied the string and began to

unwrap the paper. He glanced at Harrison before
opening the narrow box, revealing the silver pencil.
Its appearance silenced even the excitable Joseph.

"I … "
"Don't say you can't accept it, Daniel: Happy

Christmas."

If Daniel had been about to make any other

comment, he suppressed it manfully. "Thank you,"
was all he said.

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"You next, Joe," prompted Harrison.
Joseph sorted through the parcels. "These are

both from you!" he exclaimed.

"I know they are; just open them."
Daniel watched as Joseph quickly demolished

the carefully-wrapped presents. The small box held
a pen-knife, and the much larger parcel was an
illustrated book about the animals and birds of
Australia.

"Thank you, Mr Calderwood, sir - thank you."
The hug he received left Harrison in no doubt

about the success of his choices but also made him
think about the way Joseph addressed him, he
would have to talk that over with Daniel. He
indicated the remaining parcels. "The others are for
you and Joseph from Mother and Alex." Seeing
Daniel about to protest, he added, "You'll hurt their
feelings if you refuse."

Daniel gave a resigned nod to Joseph to open

them.

The contents were modest; there was a box of

savoury biscuits and a jigsaw from Alex; Elizabeth
had sent a pocket notebook for Daniel, boiled
sweets and a book of tales about

The Heroes of

Great Britain for Joseph.

"Tell them both 'thank you', and that we'll write."
Joseph picked up the last parcel. "It says this one

is for Rebecca," he said.

"I was hoping you would take it to her,"

explained Harrison. "When you go down to the
shelter, I mean."

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask what it is," said Daniel,

reluctantly.

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"Nothing to hurt her reputation, I promise you.

It's a warm shawl, a thank-you gift for the work she
does with the children."

"We'll take it the next time we go," agreed

Daniel, clearly approving the choice.

"Why don't you come with us?" suggested

Joseph, brightly

"I didn't think you went down there on

Sundays?"

"We don't normally, but one of the other helpers

is sick."

Harrison thought about it for a moment and in

the end it was Joseph's hopeful look that persuaded
him. "Yes, I'd like to - if I may."

Rather subdued until now, Daniel also looked

pleased with his answer. "We're going to help with
the midday meal," he said. "We'll be busy with that."

"Well, I can help too, can't I? And I suppose we

should be setting off soon."

Harrison checked his watch, aware of Daniel

speaking quietly to Joseph, who subsequently left
the room.

Taking advantage of his absence, Harrison said,

"I was thinking it would be fun to go to the
pantomime, the three of us." Daniel shook his head.
"We could sit up in the 'gods' and boo the villain,"
Harrison wheedled shamelessly.

"You can't keep spending money on Joe and me,"

Daniel replied, as though it was an answer.

"Why ever not?"
"It isn't right, that's why. I've never been as

beholden to anyone in my life as I am to you at this
moment."

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"But there's no question of you being under any

obligation, Daniel; I enjoy your company, that's all,
and I enjoy giving Joe …"

" … all the things I can't." There was more than

an edge of frustration to the words.

"Daniel, please, I don't want to fight; if you

would prefer not to go, then of course we won't."

"Go where?" asked Joseph, coming back into the

room.

Daniel looked from Harrison to his son. "Mr

Calderwood wants to take us to the pantomime."

"Really?" was the excited response. "Can we go,

Dad?"

Unable to resist the appeal in not one but two

pairs of startling blue eyes, Daniel had no option
but to give in. "Yes, we can go," he conceded, with a
sigh.

"Thank you," said Harrison quietly; Joe was

whooping with excitement.

"Settle down," ordered Daniel. "And do what I

asked you to do, please."

Joseph dropped to the floor at Harrison's feet

and handed over the parcels he had brought in.
"That one's from me," he said.

"Then I'll open that first," was the pleased

response. The package turned out to contain a

papier maché dish, in the centre of which was a

portrait of the beetle found at Southport. "Did you
make this?" asked Harrison, much impressed.

"Yes, and I painted the beetle, too."
"It's very fine indeed," returned Harrison,

examining it in detail.

"You can use it to put things in, like your cuff-

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links," suggested Joseph, enthusiastically.

"Yes, I will; thank you very much."
Joseph handed over two more parcels. "I made

one for Mrs Calderwood too, but it's smaller and
has flowers on it - and I put a butterfly on the one
for Miss Alexandra."

"I know they'll be very pleased that you thought

of them," said Harrison, putting the parcels
carefully to one side.

"And this is from Dad."
Harrison glanced across at Daniel who smiled.

"Open it."

It was a box of four Irish linen handkerchiefs,

with his initials embroidered in one corner. "Thank
you; this is very much appreciated." He ran his
finger over the raised letters. "Really, thank you
very much."

Seemingly embarrassed by the warmth of his

response, Daniel took refuge in action and stood
up. "We'd better be going," he said, briskly.

"I'll leave these here, then, and pick them up on

the way home, if that's all right?" suggested
Harrison.

"Yes, of course it is; Joseph - coat, now!"
Out in the street Harrison said, "Joe, walk on a

little, will you? I'd like to speak to your father."

Daniel was surprised by the request. "What is it

you want to talk about?"

"If you approve, I would really like Joe to start

calling me by my given name."

"You mean 'Harrison'?"
"Yes, or even 'Harry'. He gets in such a tangle

with all his 'sirs' and 'misters' when he's excited."

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Harrison did not put any pressure on Daniel
however; it had to be his decision.

"I wouldn't want him to be too familiar, or

impolite."

"Daniel, he's never anything

but polite!"

"Very well, if you think it would be appropriate."
"It would

definitely be appropriate."

Smiling at the realisation that Harrison had got

his own way, yet again, Daniel called to Joseph to
walk with them again.

Later that evening, Daniel sat looking alone into

the embers of the fire. Joseph was in bed asleep; on
their return from the shelter he had written 'thank
you' notes for his gifts to Mrs Calderwood and
Alexandra, for Harrison to deliver.

He smiled, remembering Rebecca's reaction to

receiving her present - which had been given to her
by Joseph, Harrison insistent that it was a gift from
all of them.

It had been busy at the shelter today; laid off,

with no pay for three days, there were more dock
workers' children than usual in need of a meal.
Most had been with their mothers, the men
themselves too proud to admit to needing charity.
Harrison had helped to serve soup and bread, and
had later spent time with several families who
asked for his help and advice. The regular visitors
to the shelter were no longer as wary of him as they
had been at first; slowly, Harrison had been
accepted into the community.

Daniel picked up the gift box from the side-table

and opened it; the silver pencil shone brightly

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against the deep-blue satin lining.

He picked it out and ran his fingers over smooth,

cool metal. It was far too expensive a gift, he should
probably have refused it, but refusing Harrison
anything at all was difficult. Joseph loved him
unreservedly, and that affection was clearly
returned. It was the nature of his own friendship
with Harrison that worried him far more; he had
enjoyed affairs in the past, brief liaisons before his
marriage with college friends who had later
married, summer afternoons in the country with an
occasional willing lad - it was always the young
men he had enjoyed the most back then. He loved
his wife, though, and had been faithful to her
during their marriage; was still faithful, as a matter
of fact - caring for Joseph had left no time for
dalliance of any sort.

He wondered whether Harrison have any idea

what he was doing? That his smiles, the touch of his
hand, the affectionate look in his eyes were all
arousing emotions Daniel had thought long
forgotten? He put the pencil back into the box and
closed the lid, wishing he could close the lid on his
feelings as easily as that, but it was impossible from
every point of view. Surely Harry must be aware of
the existence of what society called 'sexual
deviation'; Oscar Wilde's notoriety had made
anyone who read a newspaper aware of it, after all -
and also there was Miss Weston's brother,
supposedly studying in Paris. So, Harrison might
well be aware of the facts, but it was doubtful
whether he would ever condone conduct of that
kind, and even less likely he would be willing to

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engage in such a relationship himself.

Daniel sighed, leaned forward, and stirred up

the fire. He should leave Liverpool, find another
job, go to Judith's people in Manchester, but he
knew in his heart that he would do none of those
sensible things - not while he could still have the
opportunity of being close to Harry.

He would have to be careful, however; he did

not dare to run the risk of being found out; it would
make matters between them infinitely more
complicated than they already were.

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CHAPTER 12

Hurriedly, Harrison closed the door against the

almost gale-force wind that had pushed him into
the shelter. He waited for his sight to adjust, able to
see almost nothing in the gloomy interior after the
cold brightness outside.

Daniel was at the centre of a small group of

people, and curious about what was happening
Harrison went over to them. Rebecca was there too,
sitting on a straight-backed chair, holding a cup of
tea in shaking hands, the contents threatening to
slop over onto her dress.

One of the women reached out to steady the cup.

"Drink it up, my lass, it'll make you feel better."

Harrison moved closer to stand beside Daniel.

"What happened?" he asked, anxiously.

"Her bloody brother, that's what." Taking hold of

Harrison's arm, Daniel drew him away from the
group.

"What happened?" repeated Harrison. "What did

he do?"

"Her mother found the shawl you gave her."
"The shawl?" Harrison looked over to where

Rebecca sat surrounded by her friends; how could
his gesture of appreciation possibly have led to this?
"Why? I was so careful to get her something
respectable, something nobody could object to."

Daniel shook his head sadly. "She's poor, you're

rich," he said. "That's all that matters. People will
make up their own explanations."

Harrison swore under his breath, realising for

the first time exactly how his gift might have looked

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to an outsider. "I didn't even think of that," he
admitted, miserably.

"I know," concurred Daniel. "Neither did I. I

thought it would be all right, too."

"What can I do to help her?" asked Harrison in

concern.

"Nothing, I'm afraid."
"There's got to be something, surely?"
Daniel shook his head. "Rebecca comes here to

avoid her brother. She's not the first pretty girl to
receive unwanted attention from a brother, or even
a father."

The implications of this were more than

Harrison could cope with at the moment, even
though he had known it on some level already. "But
her mother, what about her? Can she do nothing to
protect her?"

"She relies on Ted's wages, and he's her son. She

has no time for Rebecca; Ted is the important one in
the family."

"Well, we have to do something," Harrison

insisted. Not waiting for an answer, he went to
crouch in front of the tearful girl, able now to see
the bruises on her face and wrists.

"I'm so sorry, Rebecca, I blame myself for this."
"It isn't your fault, sir," she assured him in a

shaky voice.

"But I feel as if it is," he countered. "Is there

nowhere for you to go? Could you stay with a friend
or a relative, perhaps?"

She shook her head. "Not likely; they're all much

too afraid of Ted. Don't worry, sir, I'll be all right
now; he'll be sorry once he's calmed down."

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With a nod of acceptance Harrison stood up and

went back over to Daniel. "She says people are
afraid of her brother," he reported quietly.

"He's known as a violent man," Daniel nodded.

"He's been in trouble more than once for brawling,
and he's even worse when he's been drinking."

"He wouldn't … force her, would he?" The very

notion was horrifying, and Harrison was almost
ashamed of himself for having thought of it.

"He might," replied Daniel. "I loathe the idea of

sending her back to him as much as you, Harry, but
what else can we do? We just don't have the
resources here to look after her."

"I do, though," interrupted Harrison angrily. "I'm

sorry, will you tell Joe I had to leave?"

Outside, Harrison took several deep breaths of

the cold air to calm himself down as much as
possible. There had to be a way to help, and if there
was he was determined to find it. Rebecca must not
be allowed to stay where she was in danger from
her brother, but as an unmarried girl her situation
was very different from that of Violet Armstrong
who was now safe with her family in Shropshire.

A solution must be found, and quickly, and there

was only one person he would ever think of
consulting in a case like this.

Elizabeth was surprised to see Harrison back so

soon. "You're very early," she said, looking up from
the magazine she had been reading.

"There was some trouble," he said shortly. He

poured himself a glass of brandy and took a sip of it
before sitting down.

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"Was it serious?" she asked, although it was clear

from his manner that it had been.

"Yes." He put the glass down on the side table

and leaned forward. "In fact, I was hoping I could
talk to you about it."

"I'm listening," she told him, calmly.
"You've heard me speak of Rebecca, I think?" he

began.

She nodded. "Yes, she's the girl who teaches

some of the children, isn't she?"

"Yes. Until today, I'm afraid I had never really

understood how difficult her life at home is."
Elizabeth waited, while Harrison gathered his
thoughts. "She has an older brother, a violent man
no-one dares oppose." He hesitated, then spoke all
in a rush. "Daniel told me that she spends as much
time as possible at the shelter in order to avoid him.
His intentions towards her are not those a brother
should even think of towards his sister."

"Oh, I see. And you want to help her to escape

him?"

"It's more than that: I have to help her! The

shawl I gave her at Christmas..."

"You gave her a shawl?" Elizabeth's pale

eyebrows rose in cultured surprise.

"It was a gift from all of us - from Daniel, Joe and

me." He picked up his glass again and drank
another mouthful of brandy. "Her mother has
accused her of granting me favours in return for it,
and her brother … well, she has the most terrible
bruises."

This was more complicated than Elizabeth had

expected. "What do you want to do, Harry?" she

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asked him, sympathetically. "Have you a plan?"

"Only to get her out of there, away from people

who can hurt her."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "May I have a

glass of that, please?" she asked, and while
Harrison was pouring her drink she considered
their options. "Thank you." She drank some of the
spirit. "Have you asked her whether she is truly
willing to leave her family?"

The question seemed to startle him. "Surely she

wouldn't object?" he asked, puzzled.

"She might. I've known it to happen before.

Sometimes, Harry, no matter how bad things are,
the familiar may be better than the unknown." From
his expression, it was obvious this had not occurred
to her son. "I need to see her myself, and speak to
her, somewhere that her brother would never hear
about."

Briefly, Harrison considered the possibilities.

"The museum," he said. "I'm quite sure Grafton
would allow us to use one of the offices there for
half an hour or so."

"Good. It had better be as soon as possible, then."
"Very well. I'll write to Grafton now, and have the

note delivered immediately."

Left alone after his whirlwind departure,

Elizabeth sighed deeply. What Todd's reaction was
going to be to this fresh involvement with Daniel's
charity work even she did not quite dare imagine.
How, she wondered, did this new development fit in
to what she already knew? Harrison's affection for
Daniel was real, of that there was no doubt, but
could Rebecca, rather than Daniel, be the reason

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Harry continued to go back to the shelter despite
his brother's objections? On the other hand perhaps
it was only a case of like sympathising with like;
they both had older brothers who were not above
using coercion to get their own way.

She got up and went to stare out of the window;

the bare branches of the trees in the square shook
as they were battered by the wind. It was never
mentioned in polite society, but there was no
mystery about the reasons why James Weston had
chosen to go and study in France. He and Harry
had been very close, they wrote regularly to each
other, and Harry still talked about his recent visit to
him in Paris. Unlike Todd, though,Harry seemed to
be able to accept James as he was, and never
denigrated the life his friend had chosen; given the
disapproval of society generally, it was an unusually
sympathetic outlook. Turning back into the room,
towards the warmth of the fire, she picked up her
glass, rolling it thoughtfully in her hands. Harrison
was clearly upset about Rebecca, especially because
he felt he was to blame for her troubles, but there
was none of the fury he had exhibited over the
injustice of Daniel's dismissal from Scott's. Clearly,
then, he was not more emotionally involved with
her than he was with Daniel.

She finished off her drink; if her previous

speculations were correct then, whatever happened,
Harry, Daniel - or both - were very likely to get
hurt.

Several days later, Elizabeth went with Harrison

to meet Rebecca. The day was cold but the sky was

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clear, the wind had blown itself out and only the
perpetual breeze blowing up from the river
remained. When they arrived at the old cemetery by
St. George's Hall they could not see Rebecca at
first, then Elizabeth saw her - half hidden by some
shrubs she was looking nervously around her.
Harrison smiled reassuringly at her. "Mother, this is
Rebecca Connors. Rebecca, this is my mother, Mrs
Calderwood."

Rebecca bobbed a polite curtsey. "Ma'am."
Elizabeth glanced around. The only other people

in the cemetery were using it as a short cut, and
unsurprisingly none of them were from the lower
part of the city.

"Would you like to go inside the museum where

it's warmer, or would you prefer to sit out here for a
little while instead?"

Rebecca looked to Harrison for reassurance.
"It's your choice," he told her gently. "Whatever

you prefer."

"I'd like to stay out here, ma'am, please, if that's

acceptable."

"Very well," said Elizabeth, "then we'll sit over

there, out of the wind." She turned to Harrison. "Off
you go, Harry, we ladies need to talk in privacy.
Why don't you go and say thank you to Grafton for
his offer of hospitality?"

"Very well, Mother. I won't be long."
"Don't hurry on our account," instructed

Elizabeth, settling herself on the bench. She
watched him walk away and then patted the seat
beside her, "Come and sit next to me, Miss
Connors." She waited until Rebecca, too, was

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settled, before continuing. "My son has told me a lot
about you, and about your work at the shelter. He's
also told me about the situation at home with your
brother."

"Yes, ma'am," the girl whispered, looking at the

ground.

"Your mother won't help you?" Elizabeth asked,

wanting to be certain her information was correct.

The girl shook her head. "Ted can give her

money," she said, as if that was all the explanation
necessary.

"Why don't you have a job, Rebecca? In the mills,

or in a shop, I mean?"

"Reverend Stillman, ma'am, he owns the shelter;

he pays me to look after it, to keep it clean and
such, and Ted and Ma always like to know where I
am."

"I'm sure they do. Well, if you want to be safe

from your brother, Rebecca, I'm afraid you will have
to leave Liverpool; if you stay here, they will
certainly find you. Would you be willing to do that,
do you think?"

"I don't have nowhere to go," the girl said, sadly.
"I understand. But, if a place - a safe, good place

- could be found, would you go then? It would mean
leaving your family and your friends, and never
telling anyone where you were."

"Not even Daniel?" Rebecca's expression showed

clearly what she thought of this arrangement.

Elizabeth smiled. "No, my dear, Daniel would

know where you were, and you would be able to
write to him if you wanted to."

Rebecca nodded firmly. "Yes, then. Yes, I'd go

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tomorrow!"

"Perhaps not quite as soon as that," Elizabeth

told her, smiling. "But I know someone I can write
to about you. You'll have lodgings, a job and a little
money to see you settled comfortably."

"Thank you, ma'am." The girl's eyes were round

with astonishment.

"But you must tell no-one about this. No-one at

all," emphasised Elizabeth, sounding firmer than
she had intended. Rebecca shook her head. "All
right, then, you go along; Daniel will get a message
to you when everything's arranged."

Bobbing another astonished curtsey, Rebecca set

off along the path through the overgrown
graveyard, heading towards the street market which
was the pretext for her being out of the house.

Closing her eyes, Elizabeth enjoyed the small

warmth of the winter sun on her face, the air
scented by a nearby shrub of Wintersweet; a false
promise of Spring. After a short while, Harrison
returned and sat down beside her. "What did you
think of her?" he asked.

"I think she's worth helping," was her reply. She

smiled at his audible sigh of relief and, standing up,
held out her arm to him. "Walk me down to
Lancaster's Tea Shop and I will tell you what I
think."

The following week the evening of the long-

promised visit to the pantomime was terribly cold,
but it could not dampen Joseph's excitement when
Harrison picked them up from Duke Street. The boy
had never been in a carriage before; the smooth

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leather upholstery felt soft to touch but it was
difficult to sit on, and he was jostled up and down
as the carriage crossed cobbles and dropped into
potholes in the road. Everything about this was
thrilling, though; the ring of the horses' hooves on
the road, the darkness outside, but especially the
anticipation of going to the theatre.

The carriage halted a little way from the recently

re-opened Empire Theatre and the coachman got
down to open the door. Joseph jumped down first,
followed by his father and then by Harrison.

"Don't wait in the cold," instructed Harrison.

"Take the horses over to Elliot's stable and wait
there. Come back at ten o'clock."

"Yes, sir."
They watched the carriage rejoin the stream of

traffic before walking the short distance to the
theatre entrance, where they mingled with the
crowd waiting to go in.

It was warm in the foyer; Harrison showed their

tickets and then they went upstairs to the front row
of the balcony, over which Joseph leaned to watch
the people below taking their places, the women
wearing beautiful evening gowns and glittering
jewellery. It was a long way down from there, but
there was a good view of the stage. One by one the
members of the orchestra took their places, tuning
their instruments in readiness to commence the
overture.

"Well, what do you think of it, Joe?"
Joseph turned to Harrison, "I've never seen so

many people in one place before," he answered, his
eyes wide.

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Daniel smiled at the reply. "What about the

football match, eh? There were plenty of people
there."

"Yes, but that was different; here everyone's

dressed up." He returned to watching the audience.
"Look," he exclaimed a few minutes later. "There's
Alex."

"Where? Where is she, Joe?" asked Harrison,

leaning over the balcony to look for her. Joe
pointed. "Over there, look, in one of those special
seats."

Harrison scanned the boxes. "He's right; she's

there with Todd. Caroline and Stephen are there as
well."

"I wouldn't have thought this would be much to

your brother's taste?" observed Daniel quizzically.

"It isn't," said Harrison amused by the comment,

"but Caroline and Alex had read the London
reviews when it was staged down there, and they
were both determined to see it."

"Do you think they'll notice us sitting over here?"
Harrison's voice was quiet, as he replied. "I don't

know. Does it matter?"

"No, not to me."
"Nor to me," Harrison assured him, smiling.
"It's starting," hissed Joseph, watching the

conductor bring the orchestra to order. Their
previous dissonance became a rousing overture, the
lights dimmed and the curtains swung back,
transporting the audience immediately to Fairyland.

Small groups of elves were busily working; the

weavers had made a cloak for Red Riding Hood; the
potters a jar for the forty thieves - there was a lamp

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for Aladdin, and bells for Bow Church, most
important of all, the glass-blowers had created a
pair of crystal slippers.

The scene changed to the King's Wood, where

some hunters were scornful of a poor old woman.
Kind Cinderella gathered firewood for her and was
promised in return a husband who was wealthy and
handsome, witty and wise. Tired from her work, the
girl lay down to rest. As she slept autumn leaves in
russet, lemon, and pale green danced around her.
The Prince, disguised as a commoner, awakened
Cinderella, and they ended the sequence with a
love duet.

At the Baron's castle Cinderella was slapped and

bullied then forced to help her step-sisters get ready
for the Royal Ball. Finally left in peace, alone in the
kitchen, close to tears of disappointment she
danced with the Cat to cheer herself up and sang,
"Were I a queen with a golden crown, my love a
peasant swain, I'd gladly lay my sceptre down, his
loving heart to gain."

Daniel looked across at Harrison, his own heart

echoing the sentiment, except that he himself was
the peasant swain and he was certain that the
prince had no idea of his affections.

In another magical change of scene the Fairies

arrived to transform Cinderella into a princess in a
rainbow tinted gown, after which she was driven
away in a chariot studded with golden stars and
pulled by a team of diminutive cream-coloured
ponies.

The curtains closed and Joseph sat back as the

lights went up.

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"What do you think of it?" Daniel asked his son.
"I liked the Cat the best," replied the boy.
Harrison smiled; the Cat had been full of tricks,

annoying the step-sisters, cheering up Cinderella
and generally stealing the scene; the Fairy
Godmother had turned him into a cheeky page to
accompany his mistress to the Ball.

"I wish Rebecca had a Fairy Godmother to help

her," announced Joe, wistfully. "Like Cinderella
had."

Harrison and Daniel exchanged a glance above

his head. "She might, though, Joe," said Harrison
quietly. "Perhaps, if she's lucky, she just might."

Following the interval Cinderella's story

continued to its expected end and she married her
prince, but that was not the end of the
entertainment; afterwards, the orchestra filled the
theatre with the sound of Beethoven's

Pastoral

Symphony. Joseph was completely lost in the music

as the sequences on stage went through several
changes from stormy darkness to an idyllic scene of
sunshine, flowers and birdsong. Events then
descended into a Harlequinade in which Clown
and Pantaloon had Joseph laughing so much that
he couldn't follow the sketchy storyline of the
history of locomotion from the age of the stage-
coach to the train. Then, at last, the evening was
finally over.

There was no way to leave the theatre in a hurry;

the happy crowd moved slowly along the aisles and
down the stairs, eagerly discussing the play. When
they reached the outer doors, however, they found
Fairyland recreated; the theatre lights sparkled

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gaily on the iron frost that now glistened on every
surface. It was bitterly cold outside after the warmth
of the theatre.

"The carriage will be across the road, out of the

way," said Harrison. "Follow me, and watch out for
the horses."

It was a little quieter over by the great hall, the

frost even more beautiful on the intricate swirling
patterns of the different-coloured cobbles. Their
carriage was in a line of others, and Harrison
bundled Joseph and Daniel in out of the cold before
climbing in himself.

Joseph leaned back happily against the

cushions. "Thank you," he said, barely suppressing
a yawn of utter contentment.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, young man."
"It was the best evening ever," said Joseph, as he

wriggled close and leaned tiredly against his
father's shoulder.

Satisfied with this, Harrison and Daniel were

content to sit in silence as they drove along, the
Saturday night sounds of the city hardly
penetrating into their peaceful world.

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CHAPTER 13

Returning from his office on the following

Monday evening, Harrison wearily handed over his
coat and scarf to Grainger; he was looking forward
to a quiet drink before dinner.

"It's come," said Elizabeth almost before he was

in the drawing-room. She stood up and held out a
letter. "A reply from Cousin Anne."

"May I?"
She handed it over. "I knew she would help us

when she heard the circumstances."

"What circumstances are these?" asked Todd,

who had followed his brother into the room. "Would
either of you like a glass of sherry?"

"No," answered his mother and, engrossed in the

letter, Harrison did not reply.

"As I said, what circumstances? Or is it a secret?"
"Of course it's not a secret. It's from my cousin in

Nantwich. I wrote asking her if she could find a
place for a young woman from Daniel's shelter."
Todd's expression hardened, but he said nothing
and Elizabeth continued her explanation. "Anne
says she can help, and wants to know when we
expect to arrive with Rebecca."

"Arrive?"
"Yes, we'll have to take her; she can't possibly

travel all that way on her own." She retrieved the
letter from Harrison. "I'll write to her tomorrow
about the arrangements. Now, I had better get
ready for dinner - and so should the two of you."

Left alone, Todd confronted Harrison. "How dare

you involve Mother in your dubious affairs?" he

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demanded.

"There's nothing dubious about helping a young

woman in trouble," Harrison told him, reasonably.

"Harry … " Controlling his temper only with

difficulty, Todd continued more quietly. "Can't you
see how unsuitable it is for both you and Mother to
be so closely associated with these people?"

"Unsuitable? If Rebecca doesn't escape from

what I cannot call her home, God knows what will
happen to her."

"But it isn't your problem, and it certainly isn't

Mother's problem," protested Todd. "Leave her out
of it, can't you?"

"It was her own decision to become involved,"

returned Harrison. "When she met Rebecca … "

"What?" Todd interrupted, furiously. "When did

this happen? I wasn't aware of it!"

"Mother met Rebecca to decide if she would be

able to help her," Harrison explained, remaining as
calm as he could.

"And all this is because of Daniel Harper, is it, I

presume?"

"He knows we're trying to help Rebecca,"

conceded Harrison. "But that's all."

"It always comes back to Harper and that damn'

charity of his, doesn't it?" The tone was one of utter
disdain.

"I don't understand what it is you're trying to say,

Todd."

"Very well, then I'll speak more plainly. What is

troubling me most about all this is Daniel Harper.
Or, rather, it's your attitude when you're together."

"

Daniel?" repeated Harrison incredulously. "I'm

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sorry, Todd, I don't have the faintest idea what you
are talking about."

"You are quite sure about that, are you?"
"Will you stop this?" demanded Harrison, his

good humour rapidly beginning to slip away. "If you
have something in particular to say, then say it!"

"Very well." Todd's expression was far from

encouraging. "Harper is your friend, however much
I and others may disapprove of that."

"A very close friend," agreed Harrison quietly,

awaiting whatever Todd obviously felt he was
obliged to disclose.

"Doesn't it occur to you, Harry, that people might

find this friendship of yours more than a little odd?"
was what he said, however. He waited then, but
apart from the stubborn set to Harrison's jaw there
was no reaction to his words. "I saw you at the
pantomime together," he continued. "I didn't say
anything at the time because I didn't want there to
be any more trouble, but it seems to me you're
always in his company; here, at the refuge, at the
office ... and that child of his has almost everything
money can buy, while you fawn over his father at
every opportunity you get."

"I'm afraid you will have to explain to me what

you mean by that," Harrison told him, coolly.

"No.

You explain to me why you light up like

Christmas whenever he's around?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that last

remark," said Harrison finally, his voice
dangerously soft and quiet.

Ignoring the warning signs, Todd continued to

plunge on. "You'll hear that and a great deal more;

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didn't you learn

anything about real life when you

were away at university, Harry?"

"Todd, I don't … " But his words were lost against

the relentless power of his brother's invective.

"You told us Harper had to leave university when

his family lost their money, didn't you?"

"Well? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Harper knows how the world works better than

you do; he knows you never get anything for
nothing. He understands why James Weston is in
France, doesn't he? He knows how close you and
James were … and still are."

Harrison began to see where Todd's argument

was leading. "Oh, I see. Are you by any chance
insinuating that Daniel and I … ?" But he could not
bring himself even to finish uttering the question.

"The only other person I've ever seen you look at

like that was Beth, Harry. You will need to draw
your own conclusions; other people will, and I'm
certain some already have."

Harrison resented the allusion to the girl he had

once planned to marry. Since her untimely death
there had been no one else he felt quite so strongly
about. "I refuse to listen to this, Todd; you couldn't
possibly be more mistaken."

"Very well, if you say I'm wrong then I'll take

your word for it - but think about this; Daniel
Harper works for you, and he has his child's future
to think about. If he believes you want that kind of
relationship with him, what real choice do you think
he would have in the matter?"

"This is pure speculation. Why are you saying all

these things?"

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"Harrison, listen; I don't think Harper is suitable

company either for you or Alexandra but I do
believe he's an honest man." Todd paused. "And I'm
afraid I think you may be deceiving yourself about
your own motives. Harper isn't James, or one of
your university louts, and what might possibly be
acceptable to them would be nothing but disastrous
if it was applied to him. I'm sorry, Harry, I know you
find this hurtful, but that's how it looks to me."

Self-control was a virtue Harrison Calderwood

had practised all his life, and it took all of that self-
control now not to turn on Todd but to remind
himself instead that whatever his brother did was
always for what - he thought, at least - were the best
of reasons.

"Well, Todd, you've said what you felt you had to

say - only I wish to God you'd kept your damnable
suspicions to yourself." And he would have said
more, perhaps, but Harrison was suddenly sick of
arguing, of defending himself, when he could not
for the life of him understand what everybody
thought was so objectionable about his friendship
with Daniel.

Unable to face any more conflict, he escaped

upstairs to change for dinner, repeating to himself
that Todd was utterly wrong about all this and had
to be made to see it somehow - only, just at the
moment, he could not imagine how.

After dinner, with his mother busy helping Alex

to choose fabrics for her new crazy quilt, Harrison
was able to plead pressure of work and escape to
his bedroom. As this was the only place he could be

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guaranteed of getting some peace and quiet, he had
a desk in his room and often went there to study
documents or write letters. Dutifully he settled
down with every intention of working, but the
encounter with Todd had worked its way into his
imagination, and Todd's words could not easily be
forgotten. An image of eyes that changed from
green to grey kept getting between him and the
pages of the text he was using, and before too long
he realised that he had read the same paragraph
several times over and still had no idea what it
contained. Harrison pushed the work to one side in
frustration; confound Todd and his ridiculous
theories, anyway! More imagination than was good
for him, that was what Todd had, he decided
irritably. However the thought stopped him cold,
and he paused to re-examine it.

Todd? Imagination?

The two simply did not belong together. Dearly as
he loved his brother, Harrison would never have
described him as an imaginative man, and therefore
the only rational conclusion was that Todd truly
believed every word he had said. And if he believed
it, then others might also.

Daniel? Did he believe it, too? Had he somehow

also given the impression that he wanted their
relationship to be more than friendship? Was that
why Daniel had initially refused to accept his offer
of employment, expecting there to be a price to be
paid in the future? It was an almost unbearable
thought. Harrison got up from the desk and began
to pace the room. Was Todd right, then? Were his
feelings stronger than even he had properly
realised?.

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At the fireside he added more coal to the flames,

before sitting down heavily in the armchair. Daniel
had quickly become the best friend he had ever had
outside the family, and it was a friendship which he
had thought was based on mutual respect and a
shared sense of values. The more he was in Daniel's
company, the more he looked forward to spending
time with him in future. He admired him for the
work he did at the shelter and the way he was
bringing up his son alone; he enjoyed the time the
two of them spent together with Joseph. He smiled,
remembering Daniel's easy laughter at the antics of
the pantomime Cat. His decision to bring Daniel
into the firm had not been a selfish one, he was
certain of that at least, but knowing he would be
there every day was nevertheless deeply satisfying;
it had not been wholly altruistic either, therefore,
and he had known that all along.

He got up and crossed to the window to open it a

little, the cold air welcome against his skin. Was it
possible that Todd was right after all? He took a
deeper breath of the frosty air. The idea of two men
loving each other was not distasteful to him; James
had been perfectly candid about his affairs, never
staying long with one particular partner, saying that
he had not yet found the right man, hinting that it
could be Harrison. He had particularly happy
memories of their time together; Weston was kind
hearted, witty but never cruel, always fun to be
with, but Harrison's feelings towards him had never
gone deeper than affectionate regard. There had
been no attraction there - on his side, anyway.

Harrison closed the window and returned to his

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desk. It was strange it should have been Todd who
recognised that his friendship with Daniel had
changed into something far more deeply-felt. He
couldn't deny that he loved Daniel more than he
had ever loved anyone before, but did that mean he
wanted the kind of relationship with him that James
had so desired? He was unsure about the answer for
himself, but firmly convinced he knew what
Daniel's reaction to the idea would be. No, he had
been given friendship, and that was all he could
hope for, and he must learn to be content with that.
It was too much to deal with all at once, however.
He needed time to sort things out properly in his
mind - time to decide on the best course of action to
take, and time to get used to the idea of being
attracted to another man. One thing was certain,
and that was that Daniel must never find out, must
never be given cause to doubt their friendship even
for a moment.

The proposed trip to Nantwich with Rebecca and

his mother, he decided, would help him to get
things in perspective and it could usefully be
extended for a few days. With luck, on his return, he
would have worked everything out to his own
satisfaction, and have his feelings under rather
better control than they were at the moment.

Under the huge clock dominating the concourse

of Lime Street Station, Harrison paused to check
his watch once more.

"They'll be here in plenty of time," said Elizabeth.

"Stop worrying."

"I'll stop worrying when they get here," he

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replied, unable to keep agitation from his tone.

"Well, why don't you go and buy a newspaper or

something if you're so restless?"

Harrison, however, ignored his mother's

suggestion and remained where he was, too keyed
up to be distracted by anything that might be
happening in the wider world.

"Oh, there they are, I can see them now!"
He looked over in the direction his mother was

indicating, and then turned to the porter who had
been waiting patiently beside them. "Thank you.
You can take our bags down to the platform now."

"Yes, sir."
Joseph was leading Rebecca towards them

through the crowd of passengers, and when they
drew near Harrison acknowledged Rebecca politely
but spoke first to Joseph. "Did you have any
problems on the way?"

"No," the boy grinned. "It was easy!"
"I'll take Rebecca through the barrier to the

platform," suggested Elizabeth, clearly intent on
moving her away from the more public part of the
station as quickly as she could.

"I'll follow you in a moment," Harrison assured

her. He watched them disappear into the crowd,
then turned back towards Joseph. "Is your father
collecting you?" he asked.

"Yes. He'll be here soon."
"You know what to say if anybody asks you any

questions about what happened?" Joe nodded,
bright-eyed with enthusiasm for what must seem to
him like an heroic sort of game. "Rebecca and I got
separated in the street market," he said. "I looked,

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but I couldn't find her; I was on my way back to the
shelter when I met my dad."

"Good." Harrison scanned the crowd for Daniel,

but couldn't immediately see him.

"I don't mind waiting on my own," the boy

suggested. "I'm sure I'm old enough."

"You might not mind, Joe," Harrison replied, "but

I do, and so would your father."

A few minutes later, Daniel surprised them by

coming in through the back entrance to the station.
He put his arm warmly around Joseph but
addressed himself to Harrison. "Thank you for
doing this," he said. "And thank your mother, too."

"Of course. We couldn't leave Rebecca where she

was going to get hurt." Harrison smiled down at
Joseph, "And we couldn't have done it without your
help, young man," he added, warmly.

"You'd better go," said Daniel, holding out his

hand.

They shook hands briefly, and turned away in

opposite directions, but Harrison could still feel the
imprint of Daniel's hand in his own as walked the
length of the platform and boarded the train to
Nantwich.

They had managed to secure a compartment to

themselves. Rebecca sat rigidly by the window,
obviously terrified, although whether of being
caught and taken back or of the unknown life that
awaited her it was impossible to be sure. Startled by
the sound of the train whistle, she glanced across
anxiously to where Elizabeth sat in the seat
opposite.

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"Now we're on our way," said Elizabeth

reassuringly.

"What about Joseph?" asked the girl. "Where did

he go?"

"His father came to collect him," replied

Harrison. "They've gone back to the shelter to look
for you; he'll say that you got separated in the street
market and he couldn't find you again."

Rebecca nodded and began to breathe more

easily as the train left the deep sandstone cutting
outside the station; from the now elevated track she
could see across the city, with smoke hanging above
it in the frosty air.

"Is this all still Liverpool?" she asked. "I didn't

realise it was so big; it goes on forever."

"It is a large city," agreed Harrison, distractedly.

He was looking across the roof tops and chimney
stacks as though he, too, was leaving the city
forever; as though he was leaving behind
everything that was most dear to him. The days
which has passed since Todd had accused him of
regarding Daniel with more than friendship had
taught him how difficult it was going to be, loving
Daniel but being fearful of his finding out, and
Harrison had spent many sleepless nights re-living
events from the summer, seeing them in a new way
now. His heart ached at the thought that Daniel
might, as Todd had alleged, have misinterpreted
their friendship.

He took a deep breath and looked over to see his

mother watching him; he smiled back at her. "I'm
trying to remember," he said, "if I told Mason
everything that needs to be done."

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"I'm sure you did," Elizabeth reassured him.

Although there was no accusation in her voice she
clearly didn't believe a word, and that in itself made
him feel guilty. He had never lied to his mother
since he was a child; sometimes he had failed to
give her the whole truth, but he had never told an
outright lie. After this exchange he retreated back
into silence, leaving Elizabeth to put Rebecca fully
at her ease by pointing out the countryside scenes
and telling her about the family they were going to
visit.

The Cheshire countryside today was dismal, a

perfect match for Harrison's mood, with tussocks of
grass browned by the winter, bare trees, and flooded
fields empty of livestock; the only signs of life came
from the passengers joining and leaving the train at
various villages and halts along the way. Shortly
after passing through the great interchange of
Crewe Station, they steamed to a halt again at
Nantwich where they descended from the train.
Elizabeth took charge of Rebecca whilst Harrison
dealt with the porter, soon returning to the two
women waiting on the platform. "There's a cab
waiting for us," he said.

They followed the porter and their luggage

towards the carriage-rank, where Harrison helped
his mother and Rebecca into the cab.

Nantwich station, like most railway stations, was

a short distance outside the town; trees lined the
road they followed, giving way first to individual
cottages, and then they were in the town itself. The
coach windows did not allow much of a view but
they caught glimpses of black-and-white timbered

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buildings and a large church, and soon they were
crossing the river and passing a variety of smaller
houses.

The carriage slowed and turned into the

driveway of a red-brick house set back from the
road in a large garden.

Harrison was helping his mother down when the

front door opened and Anne Pritchard hurried down
the steps to enfold her cousin in a welcoming
embrace.

"Elizabeth, I can't believe you're here at last!"
Harrison smiled encouragingly at Rebecca as he

helped her down out of the coach. "Mrs Pritchard is
one of the kindest women I know," he whispered to
her, and she nodded before turning to drop a
curtsey to their hostess.

"You're very welcome here, Rebecca," said Mrs

Pritchard. "There's a meal waiting for you in the
kitchen and we'll talk when you're refreshed." She
turned to the maid standing behind her. "Florence,
please take Rebecca through."

"Thank you, ma'am." Rebecca gave another little

curtsey before being led away.

"Florence," called Anne, "ask cook to send the

tea up, will you?" Then, turning back to her guests,
she took hold of Elizabeth's hand. "Come in, out of
the cold; we've got so much to talk about!"

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CHAPTER 14

Harrison stood on the grey stone bridge and

stared down at the river; mesmerised by the
turbulent swirl of the current. He had spent the
morning writing to Daniel, telling him about their
journey and their arrival at the Pritchard house.

After hearing about her educational

achievements and talking to her at some length,
Arthur Pritchard had offered Rebecca a place in the
training shed where apprentices to his clothing
factory learned their trade. He had warned her that
she would be older than most of the other trainees
who came to the factory straight from school, but
she had not hesitated to accept. Lodgings for her in
the town had now been arranged and inspected.

All this news had taken Harrison some time to

compose, and he had been on his way to the Post
Office in town when he was drawn here by the
sound of the rushing water. There was a mill further
along, but that did not seem to be taking any
strength out of the flow. The grey water below and
the leaden sky above both matched his mood
perfectly, he felt; he did not want to be posting a
letter to Daniel, he wanted to be able to see him, to
hear his voice and to feel the warmth of his
handshake. It was true that, since Todd's allegations
had shattered his composure, being with Daniel
was far from easy, but to Harrison's way of thinking
this separation was far, far worse.

He brought his thoughts back to the present only

with an effort. If there was to be any future for his
friendship with Daniel, he was going to have to

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learn to be far more discreet than he had been in
the past, and to keep his emotions under better
control; otherwise, nothing but disaster lay ahead.

On his way back from the Post Office he

encountered his mother, Mrs Pritchard and Rebecca
leaving the outfitters' on the square. "You're not
finished already?" he exclaimed in astonishment.
He had expected their mission to take at least half
the day.

"They had everything we needed," countered his

mother, in a tone which told him that he should
really have known better.

Mrs Pritchard smiled at this exchange. "Why

don't the two of you stay and look around the town a
little?" she suggested, cheerfully. "The church is a
good place to visit; I'll see Rebecca safe home to
Mrs Rogers."

Elizabeth nodded her thanks, then spoke again

to Rebecca. "We're staying on for a few more days,
so if you are unhappy about anything please be
sure you come and tell us about it."

"Thank you, ma'am - and thank you, Mr

Calderwood," the girl curtseyed respectfully. They
watched her being led away, each of them carrying
an array of small and mysterious parcels.

"I need a cup of tea," announced Elizabeth, in a

tone that brooked no denial.

"Well, we could go to the Brine Baths," offered

Harrison.

"No, thank you. I would rather be somewhere

quiet and civilised, if you don't mind," and they set
off together to see what they could find. Eventually

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they decided on a tea shop further up the High
Street, where they quickly settled in and gave their
order to the young girl who attended them.

"I hope you didn't buy Rebecca too much this

morning," said Harrison thoughtfully, after the
waitress had gone.

"No, I don't think so. Nothing that would single

her out from among the other girls, anyway."
Elizabeth opened out her napkin. "How did you
spend the time, Harry?"

"I wrote a letter to Daniel," he told her, absently.
"Really? I hope you wrote to Alexandra as well?"
He had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed

at this. "I didn't even think about it at first," he
admitted, "but I remembered while I was at the Post
Office, and sent her a picture-card with a view of
Churche's Mansion for her collection."

"Good; she'll appreciate that," said Elizabeth,

recalling the half-timbered building, which Anne
had proudly pointed out as one of the oldest
buildings in Cheshire.

Harrison looked through the lace-curtained

window towards the muffled figures on the High
Street. "It's not really the weather for a holiday, is
it?" he remarked.

"No. And this isn't really a holiday, of course. I've

enjoyed seeing Anne very much, but I'll be glad to
be home again, too."

Idly, Harrison wondered whether his mother

suspected at all how much going home would mean
to him. In his madder moments, he had sometimes
considered confiding in her about his feelings for
Daniel, but returning sanity had always - so far -

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kept him silent, and his secret still a secret.

The days they spent in Nantwich were some of

the longest Harrison had ever experienced,
although the Pritchards had made them more than
welcome, fed them well and even took them round
the factory - including the apprentice hall where
Rebecca was working. Anne made sure that they
saw anything of interest in the town and generally
did her best to entertain them, but for Harrison the
desire to return home was like a tooth-ache;
whatever they did, whatever distractions were
provided, that one idea was still firmly rooted at the
back of his mind and simply would not be denied.
On their way home, though, he had not been able to
decide what to do; whether to wait and see Daniel
at the office, write to him, or simply call in at the
house on Duke Street unannounced. He had finally
decided that the easiest way would be to go and see
Daniel that same evening after dinner. It was just
his bad luck, though, that Todd also happened to be
dining at home; Caroline had gone with her mother
to visit a distant aunt, so for once Todd was
spending the evening at home with his family.

After dinner, when everyone moved into the

drawing-room so that Grainger could clear the
dishes, Harrison went over to kiss his mother
goodbye. "I won't be out late," he assured her,
quietly.

Alexandra looked up from re-arranging her

postcard collection. "I thought you would be staying
home tonight," she said disappointedly.

"Out where?" demanded Todd, as Harrison had

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known he would.

"I'm going to see Daniel and Joseph to tell them

about Rebecca," replied Harrison, making it seem
as routine and unexceptionable as he possibly
could.

Todd made no further comment, but Harrison

could tell from his expression that he did not
believe this was the real reason he was going to see
Daniel.

"Be careful," warned his mother softly.
"Yes," echoed Todd. "Be very careful." But his

tone was different altogether.

"I always am," returned Harrison, blithely, before

bidding them both goodnight.

The door to Daniel's lodgings was opened by the

landlady. "Mr Calderwood? I didn't know you were
expected this evening," she said, by way of
greeting.

"That's because I'm not, Mrs Foxley; Mr Harper

doesn't know I've arrived home, but I have some
news I'd like to tell him."

"Do you want me to go up first?" she asked,

obligingly.

"No, not at all." Harrison could hear shrieks and

laughter emanating from her parlour. "It rather
sounds as if you are needed in there," he observed.

"It's that parrot, Mr Calderwood; if only Mr

Harper would let me, I'd give it away to young
Joseph!"

"My grandmother had a parrot called Jane,"

Harrison told her, sympathetically. "Whenever it got
too noisy, she used to cover the cage."

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"This one eats the cover," was the rueful

response.

"Ah. It sounds to me as if you have an insoluble

problem, then."

Mrs Foxley couldn't help smiling at the gravity

in his voice. "Go on with you; Orlando's my problem
- not yours, and not Mr Harper's." He could still
hear her talking to the bird as he climbed the stairs
towards Daniel and Joseph's quarters.

Daniel opened the door in response to his knock.

"Harrison?" The surprise and delight in his
expression were more than welcoming, making
Harrison glad that he had run the risk of Todd's
displeasure to make this unexpected visit.

"May I come in?" he asked, although he had

little doubt of the answer.

"Yes, of course, come in; can you stay for a little

while?"

"If it's not inconvenient, yes, I'd like to."
"Not at all. Here, give me your coat."
As Harrison made himself comfortable, Joseph

immediately came over to claim a place in front of
the fire. "Have you come to tell us about Rebecca?"
he asked.

"Yes."
Daniel brought over a tumbler of whisky for him.

"To Rebecca and her new life," he suggested, raising
his own glass in a toast.

"Rebecca," repeated Harrison, before he took a

drink, then he looked down at Joseph. "As I told you
in my letter, Rebecca has a job in a clothing factory.
She has lodgings with a very nice woman in the
town, and before we left my mother took her

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shopping to buy her some new clothes."

"Is she happy?" Joseph asked him.
"I think so, as far as I know. She'll probably write

to you when she's settled."

After receiving this assurance Joseph managed

to think of an apparently endless stream of other
questions to ask, which Harrison did his best to
answer, but finally Daniel decided that it was past
time his son was asleep, and ushered him off
towards his bedroom - with many admonitions not
to get up again once he was settled - leaving
Harrison sitting by the fire, waiting nervously for
Daniel to return In a way he would have preferred
to have Joseph still with them; at least the stream of
questions had given a focus to the evening, and
prevented any change in relations between himself
and Daniel becoming too noticeable, but now he
was no longer there to provide a buffer between
them.

Daniel returned, closing the door behind him.

"Quiet at last," he remarked. "There are some days
when that boy seems like a walking question-
mark!"

Harrison smiled. "He and Rebecca were such

good friends, though; it's only natural for him to
want to know all about her circumstances."

"Yes, of course." Before he sat down, Daniel

stirred up the fire and added more coal. The flames
flared briefly and then settled, and satisfied with the
results of his efforts Daniel sat down in the chair
opposite Harrison. "You look tired," he said,
sympathetically.

"Travel is tiring," Harrison conceded, "but I knew

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Joe would want the news about Rebecca as soon as
possible. Has there been any trouble from her
brother since she left?"

"No, not really; only a lot of noisy threats that

came to nothing."

"Good." It was, in fact, even better than Harrison

had hoped, but it would be something of a miracle if
it stayed that way.

"You need to be careful, though; some of those

threats were uttered against you."

"Indeed?" Harrison wasn't too much troubled by

the prospect. He had been threatened before, and
by men far more capable of doing him harm than
Rebecca's brother, but it had never amounted to
anything. "Hopefully our paths won't cross, then.
He didn't believe Joe's explanation, then, I take it?"

"It's hard to tell whether he did or not, but he

certainly didn't cause us any bother at the time."

"That's a relief." The potential for danger of some

sort occurring to Joseph was of far more concern to
Harrison than any possible threat against himself.

"Would you like another drink?" asked Daniel,

rising to fetch the decanter.

"A small one, thank you; I can't stay too long, I'm

afraid."

Daniel poured the whisky, handing the glass

back to Harrison. "Do you really think she'll be all
right?" he asked, anxiously.

Harrison smiled, thinking of Anne Pritchard's

fussy kindness. "Yes, I think so; my mother's cousin
will keep an eye on her. I expect you miss her help
at the shelter, don't you?"

"Oh, we'll manage somehow; I'm much happier

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for her to be away from here, and out of any
possible danger." He paused. "The sad fact is that
there are many more young women like Rebecca,
and who is going to help them?"

They both knew there was no answer to the

problem. "We do the best we can," said Harrison.
"And hope others will do the same."

The clock ticked loudly, hypnotically; the

warmth of the fire added to the warmth of the
whisky, on top of a day's travelling, proved to be too
much for Harrison. He closed his eyes once to rest
them, and was fast asleep within minutes.

Daniel sat opposite, quietly watching him, able

for once to study his friend's face for as long as he
wanted to. It had been Harrison's looks that first
attracted him; with those blue eyes and his black
hair, surely there had to be some Welsh blood in the
family somewhere.

A coal fell noisily into the hearth and Daniel

held his breath, but Harrison only sighed and did
not wake up. Watching him sleep, Daniel knew that
it was Harrison's generosity and genuine
consideration for others that had turned simple
attraction into the far more complicated emotion of
love. Unfortunately, however it was not a
disinterested love; he wanted many things from
Harry - a kiss, a caress, to touch the smooth pale
skin, to feel its warmth close to his own.

He shifted in the chair, acutely aware that the

effects of his imagination were beginning to be
uncomfortable. He should have known better than
to torment his senses with wishful thinking,

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especially when the object of his affections was in
the room with him.

The clock struck the hour, startling him and

waking Harrison, who blinked owlishly before
abruptly sitting up straight. "I'm so sorry," he began,
in some confusion.

"No need to be," replied Daniel. "You told me you

were tired."

"It was still very ill-mannered of me, though."
"Not at all. In fact I'm inclined to take it as a

compliment."

"Thank you; it's very generous of you to see it

that way." In some agitation, Harrison glanced up at
the clock. "I really must go, though; I should have
been home long before this." Harrison stood up, and
Daniel went to collect his coat, holding it for
Harrison to put on.

"We'll see you again soon, I hope?" he asked.
"Yes, you will, but I'm not quite sure when. There

seems to be a great deal for me to sort out, both at
home and at the office; the work seems to have
multiplied, somehow, in my absence."

"Yes," said Daniel, "I understand; there is always

so much to do."

Daniel walked down the stairs with him, bade

him goodbye, and closed the front door after he had
gone, wishing he had a clearer idea of what to do.
The one thing he couldn't do, he was certain, was to
tell Harrison how he felt, and the effort of hiding
the truth was steadily becoming more and more
difficult to sustain.

Back in his armchair beside his own hearth once

more, Daniel stared into the fire-glow, lost in

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thought. Something had unquestionably happened,
although he was not quite sure what, and the old
easy relationship between them had somehow
changed; if he was honest with himself, he knew
that it had actually changed well before Harrison
left for Nantwich. He'd assumed at the time that it
was the result of a perfectly natural anxiety about
being able to get Rebecca out of the city safely, but
that anxiety certainly would not account for the way
things had been between them this evening.
Harrison had seemed no different when he had
been talking to Joseph; it was later, when they were
alone, that the shutters came down, and there was
only one explanation he could think of for that - he
hadn't been careful enough. He had somehow given
away his true feelings, and Harrison was afraid of
doing anything that might give the appearance that
those feelings were in any way reciprocated.

The fire collapsed in on itself, indicating that it

was time he went to bed, but still Daniel continued
to sit there and think things through. It would be
better, perhaps, to make a clean break - leave
Liverpool and find another job somewhere else.
Joseph would be heartbroken to go, of course, but it
was difficult to see what other course might be open
to them. Whatever it was that he had inadvertently
said or done, the old easy friendship between
himself and Harrison was over now - and he just
could not bear to stay and watch it die completely.
There had to be work of some sort in Manchester;
Judith's relatives there would surely help him find a
place to live and a suitable position, and he knew
that whatever the circumstances were between

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them Harrison would give him a good reference.
On the whole, then, it would probably better to
leave now, while they were still on relatively good
terms, rather than to stay on and watch the situation
disintegrate further, into embarrassment and
regrets, and know that he alone was responsible for
the destruction of their previous friendship.

A little over a mile away, in a very different part

of the city, Harrison sat wrapped in his old
dressing-gown by the cold fireplace in his bedroom,
a glass of brandy in his hand. It was well after
midnight and he should be in bed, but he could not
stop thinking about Daniel and wondering what his
reaction would be if he knew the truth about his
feelings. Surely no normal man would be prepared
to tolerate a friendship like that, one based on such
dishonourable motives; it would be the end of their
relationship if Daniel ever found out how he felt.
He and James had certainly been able to remain
friends, but Daniel was a different breed of man
entirely, and his reaction was likely to be quite
different. What option was there, then, other than to
keep it all concealed from him and pray that he
would not one day accidentally give himself away
with an ill-considered word or gesture.

Deception did not come easily to Harrison

Calderwood; he was not used to it, and it would
require a major effort of concentration, but he said
so many things to Daniel in his head that he feared
he might one day forget himself and actually say
them out aloud to him - and that would no doubt be
the end of everything.

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CHAPTER 15

Daniel waited while Harrison closed the office

door. The three weeks since Harrison's return had
convinced him it would be better for both of them if
he was no longer here in Liverpool. Now he had to
tell Harrison about his decision.

"Thank you for staying behind to see Crossley

with me," Harrison said. "Normally I would ask
Mason, of course."

"He'd have been torn between loyalty to you and

wanting to be there to welcome his son home from
India," replied Daniel, smiling.

Harrison locked the door to the office and

slipped the key into his pocket before leading the
way down the stairs. "You know I still want you to
take over from him eventually."

"Yes, I know. But I'm not quite as sure about that

as I was."

"What's that?" Harrison halted at the bottom of

the stairs. "Daniel?"

"I've been giving some thought to the idea of

moving to Manchester," Daniel told him, in a tone
completely without emotion.

"

Manchester? Why? Isn't this rather a sudden

decision?"

"No, I've actually been thinking about it for a few

weeks now."

"A few weeks, without telling me? What about

Joseph? He's doing really well at school, why would
you take him away now?"

"With respect, Harry, he's my son and it has to be

my decision - not yours." Leaving the building, they

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saw their client nearby; he was talking to the
tobacconist who owned the shop next door. Crossley
nodded a greeting, which Harrison returned.

"Some of my wife's relatives live in Cheadle,"

continued Daniel. "I think we should be nearer to
them; they are, after all, Joe's only real family. I feel
I should give Joseph a chance to get to know them,
and for them to able to meet Judith's child."

"You told me you don't get on with them, so why

would they be prepared to help you? Daniel, don't
do this - don't leave Liverpool."

Daniel's attention had been distracted, however,

and now his gaze focused beyond Harrison.
"Rebecca's brother and his friends are coming
towards us," he said, quietly.

"Well?" replied Harrison, "what of it; what can

they possibly do?"

Worriedly Daniel looked around; it was getting

late and the business premises nearby were almost
all closed; even the tobacconist was putting up his
shutters.

"I'd rather not find out," he said, setting off in the

opposite direction towards Castle Street, where he
knew the night constable would be starting on his
round. Harrison followed automatically, but they
had not gone far before they were overtaken.

"We'd like a word with you -

sir."

Harrison stopped and turned to face the men,

who had clearly just come from their work on the
docks as they were all carrying vicious cargo hooks.
Daniel's heart sank; it was two against five - there
was no way this was going to end well.

"Gentlemen? How can I be of service to you?"

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"Where's my sister?" demanded Connors,

roughly.

"Where she's safe from you and your filthy

demands," Harrison told the man, coldly. It was
clear that Connors was in liquor, and there was no
arguing with a man in that condition.

Connors came closer still. "You keepin' her

somewhere secret, then, are you? Got her set up in
a nice little house somewhere? Is she your fucking
whore, eh, Calderwood? Wonder what mummy
would think about that, if I told 'er."

"My mother? What on earth has she to do with

this?" But the mere mention of Elizabeth had clearly
unnerved Harry, and he had half-raised his arm in a
defensive gesture. Instinctively Daniel caught hold
of it and brought it down. "Don't," he said, quietly.
"They're just not worth the effort - him least of all,"
he added, taking in the pitiful spectacle presented
by Connors' drink-sodden bravado.

Ted Connors smiled evilly. "Aw, no, let him try it,"

he said. "Why not? I can take half a dozen soft city
men like him any day of the week. He's no more
dangerous than a powder-puff, just a fancy shirt
with nothing inside it."

"She isn't going to be coming back," said

Harrison evenly, retreating from his warlike
posture. "You might as well get used to the idea,
Connors."

"Oh, is that so? Then you're gonna have to tell

me where the bitch is, aren't you, nancy?"

"No, I'm not - and if you don't leave immediately

I will have no choice but to call for the police."

"The police?" jeered Connors. "It's not the police

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you'll be needing when we've finished with you, its
an ambulance - or an undertaker!"

Connors struck out, his docker's hook tearing

through Harrison's jacket as Daniel pulled him
backwards just in time. Then Connors closed in
again, the other members of the gang with him,
pushing Harrison back towards the blank façade of
a wall. Daniel fought to stay close beside him, even
to shield him with his body if he could. There were
hands grabbing at their clothing, hard shoulders
jostling them, filthy breath washing over them, but
no punches were thrown; this was simply an
exercise in intimidation, and it ended with Harrison
being slammed up against the wall, the whole of
Connors' weight pinning him there, the point of the
hook resting lightly against the vulnerable skin of
his throat.

"See how easy it would be?" he demanded. "Just

one wrong move, and there's my mates here to say
as 'ow my 'and slipped all accidental. What're you
going to do about it, eh, you poxy po-faced pimp?"

"Hey!" Crossley, who had obviously seen what

took place, was running towards them while the
tobacconist raised the alarm on his police whistle.
Hearing the shrill summons the gang scattered in
an instant, becoming invisible amongst the maze of
side-streets.

Crossley reached them, overweight and gasping

for breath. "Ruffians!" he declaimed. "Are you hurt,
sir?"

Daniel shook his head to clear it and turned to

where Harrison was leaning against the wall, his
face ashen. "Harry? Are you all right?" Seeing

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Harrison begin to sway, he reached out and caught
hold of him just as he began to slide down the wall,
but was unable to hold his weight; they sank to the
ground together. "Harry?"

Grey-faced and only half-conscious, Harrison

was unable to respond.

A police constable ran up to them. "Christ, it's

Mr Calderwood! Is he dead?"

"No," snapped Daniel, annoyed beyond words at

the stupidity of the man.

"Hospital then; he'll need a doctor."
"No." Daniel tightened his grip. "Home. He

needs to go home. If you want to speak to him, you
can do so there."

"There's a cabstand on the corner," wheezed

Crossley. "I'll fetch one."

"Thank you," said Daniel, returning his attention

to Harrison while the fat man ran off to engage a
vehicle. When it arrived they managed, with the
help of the cabbie, to get Harrison onto his feet
somehow and in through the door of the cab. At
Daniel's insistence Crossley, too, climbed up to join
them, leaving only the tobacconist behind to answer
the constable's questions.

It was fully dark when they reached the

Calderwood house. Crossley left the driver to assist
Daniel and ran up the steps to hammer on the door
and ring the bell, pushing his way into the hall
importantly as soon as Grainger had opened the
door.

"Where is Mrs Calderwood?" he demanded. "You

must send for a doctor at once; I fear Mr

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Calderwood has been very badly hurt."

The commotion brought the family into the hall.
"You must send for a doctor," repeated Crossley,

in some agitation.

Through the open door Todd saw Daniel and the

cabbie supporting Harrison up the path; the light
from the hall revealed blood soaking through
Harrison's jacket.

"My God! Grainger, send the boy at once for Dr

Crawford. Tell him it's urgent!"

Not waiting for a reply he ran to help his brother,

and between them he and the cabbie carried
Harrison into the house and up the wide staircase,
followed closely by Elizabeth. Daniel collapsed onto
the bottom tread and tried to catch his breath.

Alex sat beside him "Are you hurt?" she asked.
"No, I'll be all right; you go and help your aunt."

And when she hesitated he repeated, more
forcefully, "

Go!"

Reluctantly Alex left him and ran upstairs. She

hesitated a moment before going into Harrison's
room but she couldn't see him at all; Todd,
Elizabeth and Mrs Grainger were all clustered
around the bed and there was blood-soaked
clothing lying on the floor.

"Aunt Elizabeth," she said, "I think Daniel's hurt

as well."

"Find Grainger and bring Daniel up to the guest

room," replied her aunt, decisively.

Alexandra met the butler on the landing,

carrying an armful of clean linen. "You're to come
downstairs with me," she told him. "Mr Harper's
injured, too."

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"I'll just hand these over, miss," was the steadfast

reply.

When the two of them reached the bottom of the

stairs again Daniel had managed to stand up but
was leaning dizzily against the wall, his eyes
closed.

"Daniel?" she asked, concerned.
He opened his eyes to look uncomprehendingly

towards Alex. "How is he? How's Harry?"

She threaded her arm through his. "They're

doing everything they can for him until the doctor
arrives," she said, gently. "Now we're going to look
after you."

"I told you, I'll be quite all right."
"Of course you will, I'm sure of it. Grainger, help

me to get him up the stairs, will you? It won't do you
any harm just to rest for a little while, though," she
continued, cajoling him as if this was nothing more
significant than some silly little whim of her own.
"Just to please me."

Between them, somehow, she and Grainger got

Daniel as far as the door to the guest bedroom. "I
can manage him on my own now, miss, thank you,"
the butler said.

Alex nodded. "You do whatever Grainger tells

you to do," she admonished Daniel, in a fair
imitation of her aunt.

Clearly unable to do anything but agree mutely

Daniel merely nodded, and Alexandra almost ran
from him then and returned across the landing to
her cousin's room.

Mrs Grainger was pressing a linen compress

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against Harrison's waist, adding another layer on
top of it as the blood seeped through. She
exchanged a look with Elizabeth. "I wish that doctor
was here, madam," she said, anxiously

"He will be," Elizabeth assured her, but

personally she was not quite as confident as she
sounded. At any rate she had done everything she
could to help Harrison, and there were other things
to be attended to. Elizabeth turned to speak to Todd.
"Daniel's hurt as well, it seems, so I want you and
Alex to take the cab and fetch Joseph back here.
Alex, go and put your coat on."

Todd shook his head. "I can't just leave you here,

to cope with all this," he protested.

"Well, Alex certainly can't go out alone, and

Joseph wouldn't trust you on your own," his mother
pointed out, sharply.

Accepting the truth of this, Todd turned towards

the cab driver who, having so far been neither
dismissed nor paid, was standing back against the
wall. "Come along," he said, gesturing to the man.

Elizabeth, however, managed to find the time to

be rather more gracious. "Thank you for helping my
son," she said. "We appreciate it very much."

"I hope he recovers quickly, ma'am," the driver

said, in a humble tone, but the expression on his
face suggested that he didn't think it likely. He
nodded his head respectfully, and left the room.

As Todd began to follow the cab driver out,

Elizabeth caught hold of his arm. "Make sure you
pay him well," she insisted. "He should be rewarded
for the trouble he's taken."

All the arrangements made that she could think

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of, Elizabeth went to stand next to Mrs Grainger,
who shook her head. "It's bad," she said, wearily.

"I can't think of anything else we can do, though,

can you?" Elizabeth was racking her brains for
anything she might have forgotten when a timid
knock on the door announced the arrival of Lily, the
housemaid. "Is the doctor here already?" she asked
the girl, hope dawning all of a sudden.

"No, ma'am, not yet, but there's a gentleman

waiting in the drawing-room."

"Oh, I'd forgotten all about him!" She looked

down at Harrison, hating to leave him, but there
was no one else in the house whom she could send.
"I'll have to go down," she resolved, quickly
smoothing down her skirt and tucking her hair back
into place. Crisis or no crisis, there was no excuse
whatsoever for greeting a guest in a dishevelled
condition.

Mrs Grainger nodded, adding still another layer

of padding to the compress.

At the door into the drawing-room, Elizabeth

took a deep breath before pushing it open. "I'm so
sorry not to have been down to speak to you earlier,
Mr … ?"

"Crossley, ma'am; Albert Crossley, I have a

bookshop in Union Court. I'm a client of Mr
Calderwood's, and in fact I'd just concluded my
business with him when the … incident occurred."

"Thank you very much for all your help, Mr

Crossley; we are all deeply indebted to you for your
kindness. May I offer you some refreshment?"

"Thank you, Mrs Calderwood, but no; as soon as

the cab returns, I'll be on my way. How is Mr

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Calderwood now … and the other young man?"

Elizabeth swallowed hard. "We won't quite know

until the doctor arrives," she said. "When he does,
I'm afraid I will have to leave you and return to my
son."

"I understand perfectly, ma'am, don't you worry

about me at all."

Elizabeth brushed a hand across her eyes,

suddenly exhausted.

"Come and sit down, Mrs Calderwood, just for a

minute," urged Crossley. She allowed herself to be
led to the sofa, and Crossley went to the side table
and poured her a small glass of sherry.

"Drink this. It might help."
She accepted the glass. "Mr Crossley, you must

call on us again when this is all over and we can
thank you properly," she told him, her voice weaker
than she liked to hear it,

"Never mind that, now," the unexpected visitor

responded kindly. "Drink up, it will do you good."

He was quite right about this, as Elizabeth soon

realised. The few minutes' enforced rest and the
sherry did steady her - and then the urgent sound
of the doorbell sent her running to open the front
door, barely remembering to thank Crossley as she
left him in the drawing-room.

"Dr Crawford, thank goodness! Harrison's

upstairs, in his room."

Crawford, who was young enough to take the

stairs two at a time, wasted no time at all but set off
immediately, followed more slowly by Elizabeth. In
the bedroom Crawford removed his coat, walking

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around to the far side of the bed. Mrs Grainger
made a movement away.

"No, stay where you are," said the doctor. "You're

doing exactly the right thing; it's a stab wound, I
was told."

"Yes, Doctor."
Crawford took hold of Harrison's wrist; the pulse

here was slow and weak. "Is the wound clean or
ragged?" He raised Harrison's eyelids to check the
size of the pupils.

"Ragged, sir, like the knife was pulled

sidewards."

"Thank you." He went over to the washstand and

opened his medical bag. "Would you pour some
water for me please, Mrs Calderwood?" He added
some crystals to the water and began to wash his
hands. "Is there another man available?" he asked.

"There's Grainger - but he's watching over Mr

Harper, the other man who was hurt."

"Then please go and sit with Mr Harper and

send Mr Grainger to me," said Crawford. Then,
responding to the question in her eyes, he
continued. "I need someone capable of holding your
son immobile if he should happen to return to
consciousness before I've finished dressing the
wound."

Elizabeth left the room immediately, without any

argument.

"It's probably better if she doesn't see this,"

commented the doctor after she had gone, taking
over the compress from Mrs Grainger. "I want you
to mop up any fresh blood so that I can see what I'm
doing."

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"Yes, sir," replied the servant, staunchly.
Crawford began to peel away the layers, and

looked up as someone entered the room. "Ah,
Grainger, I'm glad you're here; come and get a firm
hold of Mr Calderwood's shoulders for me, will
you?"

In the guest room, Elizabeth sat holding Daniel's

hand. "What did the doctor say?" he asked her.

"Nothing; he was just asking questions." She

changed the subject abruptly. "I've sent Alex to fetch
Joseph; you'll both stay here with us for a while."

"Mrs Calderwood…"
"I really would prefer it if you called me

Elizabeth," she told him, in a tone that brooked no
argument.

"Elizabeth. I can't stay here, it wouldn't be right."
Little as she felt like doing so, Elizabeth smiled

down at him. "You don't have any choice in the
matter," she pointed out, ruthlessly. "I'm not
prepared to allow you to leave until I'm quite
certain you're well enough. Please don't try to argue
with me about it."

Clearly too tired and hurting too much to press

the point, Daniel closed his eyes. It was not quite a
surrender, she realised, so much as a tactical
withdrawal; he would try again, when he was
feeling stronger. She continued to sit there and hold
his hand for some time, however, wondering what
was going on across the landing. The hands of the
clock on the mantelpiece moved more slowly than
she could ever remember them doing, and she had
begun to wonder whether in fact they had stopped

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completely when the door opened and she stood up.

"Good, I do have the right place," said Crawford

briskly, entering the room.

"Harrison?" she asked, breathlessly. "How is he?"

She was well aware of Daniel, eyes closed, listening
to every word of their conversation.

"Better than I might have expected; there were

no major organs damaged, fortunately, and I've
cleaned the wound and packed it. I'll call in the
morning to check on him, if I may?"

"He's going to recover, then?" It was not until

hope was returned to her that Elizabeth realised
how close she had come to losing it altogether. She
had purposely not dwelt in any detail on the
prospect of losing her younger son, but at the same
time he had been an alarming spectacle even for a
woman with a constitution as strong as hers. She
could only suppose that the amount of blood shed
had deceived her into thinking his injuries worse
than they were.

"He's lost a lot of blood," the doctor said, "but he's

strong. My chief concern is that there may be
infection; his temperature is already rising, and I'm
afraid fever is likely. The next twenty-four hours will
be crucial. If he survives those, I think we may
begin to be a little more optimistic."

"I see. Thank you for being so honest with me."
"Of course. I would never attempt to deceive any

mother about her child," returned Crawford, calmly.
"And you're patient number two," he said,
approaching the bed where Daniel lay. He half
turned. "If you'd kindly ask Mrs Grainger to come
and assist me, Mrs Calderwood … ?"

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"Of course. I'll go and sit with Harrison."
She left Daniel to the doctor's care and returned

to Harrison's room where, after sending Mrs
Grainger away, she merely sat and waited. Harrison
was unconscious, but nevertheless she held his
hand loosely in her own. Lily moved quietly around
the room, picking up the discarded clothing, taking
it away and then returning to collect the bowl of
bloody water. "Can I get you anything, ma'am?" she
asked, gently.

"No, thank you, Lily - oh, yes, there is something

you can do. Please make up a bed in the old
nursery for Mr Harper's son; he'll be arriving soon."

"Yes, ma'am, of course." She went out silently,

leaving Elizabeth alone with her son until Dr
Crawford returned to the room a short time later,
immediately checking Harrison for signs of fever.

"How is Daniel?" Elizabeth asked, hoping to be

able to dispel her more acute anxieties with
something in the way of good news.

"He's got a lot of bruising, and some of it will be

deep and take time to heal. He's injured his knee
too but, amazingly, was unaware of it at the time."

"He saved Harry's life," said Elizabeth. "I'm sure

of it."

Crawford nodded. "So it appears. Don't worry,

Mr Harper will be out and about in a week or so
with no permanent damage."

"Thank goodness for that," she breathed. It was

indeed good news, a partial antidote to all her other
concerns.

"Now," said Crawford, "don't trouble yourself to

come downstairs, Grainger will let me out and I'll

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see you in the morning." And he was gone before
she could even begin to frame a response.

Left alone Elizabeth remained holding

Harrison's hand, wondering how it could be so cold
when his forehead was fever-hot. Down below she
heard the front door opening and closing, and
hoped that would be Alex and Todd returning with
Joseph.

Lily tapped on the door and came in. "Miss Alex

is back, madam, and Mrs Grainger wants to know
should she carry on making dinner?"

Elizabeth stood up. "Wait here until someone

comes up to take over from you. I'll speak to Mrs
Grainger myself; if we don't eat it tonight, it can
always be made over tomorrow."

"Yes, madam."

Alex, Todd and Joseph were in the drawing-

room. Joseph ran over as soon as he saw her, his
eyes round. "Mrs Calderwood, why are we staying
here? Where's my father?"

"In a minute, my love," was her immediate

response. "Todd, go and sit with Harrison, will you?
I've left Lily up there."

She sat down wearily in the armchair and drew

Joseph to her. "Your father and Harrison were
coming home from the office when some men
attacked them," she began. Joseph tried to interrupt
her, but she quietened him with a hand on his
shoulder. "Hush and listen, dear. Your father is
upstairs, fast asleep in our guest room; he's hurt his
leg and he has some bruises, but that's all. I'll take
you to see him if you promise me you'll be very

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quiet and not wake him up."

"I promise. What about Harry? Is he hurt, too?"
This answer required rather more careful

phrasing. "You won't be able to see him yet," said
Elizabeth. "Probably not for several days. He was
quite badly hurt, but the doctor has seen him and
he says he's going to be all right - although it may
take a little time." And that was more or less what
Crawford

had said, she consoled herself, only she

had softened it just a little for the benefit of younger
ears.

Joseph nodded his understanding. "May I see

Dad now?" She was relieved to notice that he did
not seem too badly troubled, just anxious to
reassure himself that everything was exactly as she
had said it was - for which desire, in her heart of
hearts, she could scarcely blame him.

"Yes, of course. I'll take you up and show you

where you're going to sleep as well. Bring your
bag."

Before she could leave, however, Alex caught

hold of her arm, the expression in her eyes asking
whether what she had told Joseph was strictly the
truth.

"The doctor said twenty-four hours," Elizabeth

informed her. "We'll know more tomorrow morning.
Please tell Mrs Grainger to carry on with the
dinner, Alex; I think we're all going to be very
hungry, don't you?"

Alex nodded, and let her go.

When Elizabeth and Joseph reached Daniel's

room he was still, as she had expected, fast asleep.

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"He looks all right," whispered Joseph, relief in

his voice, and she acknowledged that he was quite
right; unlike Harrison, Daniel had a normal colour
and seemed to have a normal temperature; he was
just exhausted, and would no doubt awaken aching
and weary but otherwise in good condition.

Back on the landing, Elizabeth led the way to a

room near the back of the house. "This used to be
Harrison's room when he was your age," she said,
opening the door, glad to note that Lily had thought
to light the fire as this room did not see a lot of use
in the general way. "Many of his books and toys are
still here."

"May I look at them, please?" asked Joe,

glancing around himself in amazement at the
building blocks, the battered metal soldiers, the
little wooden warship complete with sails and
rigging and even tiny cannon on the deck.

"Tomorrow. We'll have a good rummage through

them together then, I promise. Tonight, though,
perhaps you could make do with looking at one of
the books?" And there were certainly plenty to
choose from, more than enough to fire any young
boy's imagination and take his mind off his present
troubles.

Supervised by Elizabeth, Joseph unpacked his

bag and put his clothes in the dresser drawers.

"Have you had dinner?" she asked, when they

had finished.

He nodded. "Yes, thank you. Dad wasn't sure

how late he'd be, so I had my dinner with Mrs
Foxley."

"Good. But perhaps you can still find some room

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for pudding? I'm sure Mrs Grainger will have made
one."

"Oh yes, please, Mrs Calderwood."
"All right, then; you go down and find Alex and

tell her what I said, while I have a word with my
son," and she watched Joseph clatter noisily down
the stairs before returning to re-enter Harrison's
room.

The bedroom was only dimly lit now; two

candles on the mantelpiece left the farther side of
the room in shadow. Todd was standing next to the
bed, looking down thoughtfully at his brother.

"How is he?" asked Elizabeth, approaching

quietly.

"The same. I wish Crawford could have been

rather more encouraging, though."

"It's in the nature of the medical profession to be

conservative," she reminded him. "They're always so
careful not to hold out false hope, but I must admit
that I would always far rather have the truth -
painful though it may be." She went to sit beside
Harrison, taking hold of his hand again.

"If he hadn't become involved with … " Todd

began, but she stopped him before he could say
more.

"Not now. If we really must discuss this, Todd, it

will have to wait for another time; I'm tired, we're all
tired, and there's nothing to do now but wait and
pray. It wouldn't do you any harm to pray for your
brother," she suggested, wearily, not by way of
criticism so much as that she felt a pause for
reflection might do her elder son the world of good.

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"But if this is Harper's fault … "
"It isn't." Elizabeth was very quick to put an end

to all such speculation. "According to Mr Crossley,
when I spoke to him, Daniel seems to have saved
your brother's life at the risk of his own." Acutely
aware of Harrison in the bed beside her, she
moderated her voice. "Now, Todd, Mrs Grainger has
prepared dinner; please go down and make sure
Alexandra eats something - and you should, too."

"Are you intending to sit up all night, mother?"

Todd's tone of voice indicated that he knew he
couldn't stop her, but that he would at least like to
be forewarned of her plans.

"This is a comfortable chair," she replied. "I'll

probably be able to doze here a little, on and off."

"I could keep you company, if you like?"
It was an unexpectedly generous offer, and

Elizabeth was truly moved. She smiled and held out
her free hand for him to take. "That's kind, and I
appreciate it, but I'd rather that you tried to get
some proper rest if you can. You're only down the
corridor, though, and I promise to call you if I need
you. Now go and have something to eat; there are
enough invalids in the house as it is."

Anyone less like an invalid than Todd would

have been difficult to imagine, but he accepted the
remark with good grace, squeezing her hand
affectionately before releasing it. "Someone will
bring a tray up for you," he promised.

"Thank you."
He turned at the door, obviously uneasy about

leaving her alone, but she waved him away with a
smile and settled down to begin her vigil.

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CHAPTER 16

For three nights Elizabeth sat up to watch over

Harrison. In the day time she shared the nursing
duties with Mrs Grainger and Alex, but at night she
trusted no one to take care of him but herself. Dr
Crawford, visiting on the afternoon of the third day,
had been satisfied with the state of the wound, but
the fever had not abated.

She leaned forward to wipe a damp towel over

her son's face.

"Daniel … " he repeated restlessly. "Daniel … "
Briefly she considered the idea of bringing

Daniel to Harrison's side, in the hopes that it might
give both of them some comfort, but that would not
be possible without a lot of help - and a great deal
of pain for Daniel, who was still far from well
himself. More to the point, she was doubtful exactly
how much good such a visit would achieve.

"Can't tell … can never tell … Daniel."
Elizabeth took hold of his hand hoping the touch

might soothe him. "I'm here and everything is all
right. You're safe and Daniel is safe."

"Please, Todd …" Harrison tried to pull his hand

away. "Daniel's my friend," he muttered. "My friend
… not like James ... not James."

Helpless to ease the distress in his voice

Elizabeth smoothed the damp hair back from his
forehead. "It's all right, my love," she whispered,
wishing she could take the pain away.

"Todd … knew …love Daniel."
Elizabeth wiped his face. "Oh, Todd, what have

you done?" she said fearfully.

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"Daniel mustn't know … love him … can't tell …

can't tell."

It was a relief when Harrison returned to softly

repeating Daniel's name, and eventually even that
faded into silence.

Elizabeth stood up, she needed to think;

Harrison's words confirmed what she had feared his
relationship with Daniel would become, and it was
also clear that Todd knew and did not approve.

The house was quiet; the grandfather clock in

the hall steadfastly chimed the hours as Elizabeth
thought about what she had heard and what she
should do about it - if anything. She paced the
room, put more coal on the fire, looked out at the
moonlit garden, but at last returned to sit again
beside Harrison. By the time Mrs Grainger arrived
to announce that breakfast was on the table and
that she would now take over in the sick room,
Elizabeth had made her decision.

"Todd?"
He put down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth

with a napkin, and looked across to where his
mother stood in the doorway of the dining-room.
"Harrison isn't worse?" he asked, concerned.

"No, not at all - but I would like to talk to you

about something, please."

Exchanging a puzzled glance with Alex, he

nodded. "Of course, Mother; about what?"

"Not here," she said. "Somewhere quieter, I

think." And she turned on her heel, leaving Todd to
follow her down the corridor towards the drawing-
room.

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"Are you going to tell me what all this is about?"

he asked her, entering and closing the door behind
him.

Elizabeth's voice and manner were both cool as

she spoke. "I know you and Harrison have your
differences," she began. "You always did, even as
children, but I would never have believed that you'd
deliberately attempt to hurt him."

"I've done no such thing," protested Todd. "And

I'd like to know who put such an idea into your
head in the first place. I'll admit that Harry and I
don't always agree about things, and yes,
sometimes we argue, but that's all it is and I
thought you knew that for yourself. I've never set
out to hurt him deliberately, and I'm surprised you'd
ever imagine that I could."

"I'm glad to hear it." Elizabeth folded her mouth

almost primly on the sentiment. No, Todd was not a
cruel man, but he could sometimes be an utterly
thoughtless one. He had never seemed to realise
that things which seemed perfectly clear and
straightforward and simple to him might be far
more complicated for others; he did not take
account of human weakness and fallibility, and
expected everyone to match up to the impossibly
high standard of conduct he had always set for
himself. "Tell me about Daniel Harper."

"Harper?" Todd shrugged, dismissively. "What

can I say? He's Harrison's friend, not mine."

"But you don't like that, though, do you? And not

just because of the social differences between them,
I mean."

"Well, no, it isn't just that," he confessed, almost

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absent-mindedly. "Look, Mother, it's complicated,
and I don't think you'd really understand."

"Really?" Elizabeth was not about to let this

withering indictment of her intelligence and
perspicacity pass unchallenged. "I thought we knew
each other better than that, Todd. Explain it to me,
please, whatever it is; make me understand why
you seem to be so set against this friendship."

But Todd could only shake his head in

frustration. "I can't, Mother," he told her, weakly.

"Can't ... or

won't?" Ah, that had got his attention!

He was staring at her now as though afraid that the
next words she uttered would be something utterly
obscene; as though he scarcely recognised her at
all, in fact. This gave her the opportunity to pause
to consider what she should say next, and how to
say it. "Todd, I don't need you to tell me exactly how
Harrison feels about Daniel - the precise nature of
their friendship. I think I've always … well, if not

known, then at least suspected something of the

sort might happen one day."

Clearly shocked, Todd made to attempt to

respond.

"Unfortunately, the trouble was that Harry

himself didn't know," she continued, her tone
becoming more sympathetic. "I don't believe he'd
ever realised how easily his friendships with other
men could have become something else -
something society doesn't approve of. I believe it
was you who changed that for him; you made him
recognise something in himself that he had been
completely unaware of. I believe confronting his
own true nature came as something of a shock, and

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I'm afraid I hold you responsible for that. It was
clumsily done, Todd, to say the least, although I
don't doubt that your motives were perfectly
sincere; you wanted to protect him, I understand
that, but instead you've done far more damage by
your interference."

"I didn't mean … " Todd floundered for an

explanation. "Look, I thought what Harry was doing
was wrong - both legally and morally. I had no idea
he didn't know what he was doing at all!"

"Wrong? Do you truly believe that?""
"Well, yes, Mother, I'm afraid I do. Harper works

for him, for one thing - and for another, Harry has a
responsibility to the family."

"A responsibility to do what, precisely?"

demanded Elizabeth, her tone cooling even further.
"Harrison has his law practice and his business
interests, but they're quite separate from those of
the family; this house will be yours when I die, and
the family business is yours already. The next
Calderwood heir will be

your son and Caroline's -

not Harrison's."

Yet Todd refused to be defeated without a

struggle, which was typical of the tenacity that had
made him - like his father before him - a successful
businessman in a cut-throat market. "If that's truly
the way he feels," he said, "why did he get engaged
to Beth all those years ago?"

"I was never sure whose idea it was to get

engaged," confided Elizabeth, "but I suspect that it
was hers." She took a breath. "But I'm sure there
was a time when Harrison wanted what everybody
else in our circle has - an ordinary life. Perhaps that

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was what he saw in Beth, but after she died … Well,
that freed him to consider other possibilities, don't
you see? In any case what Harrison decides to do
with his life now is his own affair and nothing to do
with me, and it certainly has nothing to do with
you."

"He's my brother," returned Todd stubbornly.

"That makes it my business."

"No, it doesn't. You expect the freedom to choose

who you want to spend the rest of your life with,
don't you? Well, then, why would you refuse your
brother the same? You know as well as I do, Todd,
Harrison is in love with Daniel Harper. That would
be difficult enough for him in the first place, but
your interference is breaking his heart and I'm
going to ask you to leave them alone from now on,
and let matters take their course."

It was apparent from his silence that Todd had

never once considered that Harrison might actually
be in love with Daniel.

"I don't think I could ever forgive anyone who

took away Harrison's chance of happiness,"
continued Elizabeth, making her point as forcefully
as she could. "Not even you."

Clearly still beset by doubt, Todd was shaking

his head. "I still think it's wrong," he repeated,
stubbornly. "It looks from the outside as if Harrison
is taking advantage of his position, pressuring
Harper into something for fear of losing his job."

"You may have a point there, Todd, and you've

made it more than once," she acknowledged,
shortly. "But the way something appears from the
outside may have little or no bearing on the way it

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appears from the inside. It's their business, not ours;
let them work things out for themselves, please, and
don't try to influence the situation any further."

"And what if Harper doesn't want to know? What

if he rejects Harry, eh? What are we supposed to do
then?"

Elizabeth smiled at this, her anger largely

forgotten. "It's obvious you haven't seen the way he
looks at your brother; I don't think there's any
shortage of affection there, somehow. I'm sure
they'll reach their own decisions in due course," she
added confidently, "and they don't need any help
from us. Now, shall we have some breakfast?"

But Todd did not move. "You genuinely believe,

do you, that Harrison is in love with the man?"

"Certainly. Just as much as you are with

Caroline. Does that help you to understand what's
happening?"

"I'm sorry." He hesitated. "I suppose you're right;

I just wanted to protect him - even from himself."

"Well, you don't have to." Elizabeth tucked her

arm into his. "Your brother is a grown man, of full
legal age, and capable of making his own decisions;
we'll just have to learn to have faith in his
judgement, that's all. Now, breakfast - it's been a
long night."

"It has indeed. And you'll go to bed, will you,

after you've eaten?"

"Yes, but not before I've seen Daniel."
"Really? Are you intending to say anything to

him about all this?"

Elizabeth shook her head, allowing herself - if

only for an instant - to imagine the excruciating

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nature of that conversation; she could hardly quiz
Daniel as to whether or not his intentions were
honourable, and in any event no young man had
ever been known to answer that particular question
in the negative.

"Of course not," she assured him. "They'll have to

work it out themselves, and I have every confidence
that they will - eventually."

Joseph, who was finding it very strange not to be

in school, was sitting on the rug in front of the
guest-room fire, arranging and re-arranging the
animals from the old Noah's Ark he had found in
the nursery. He was well aware he was far too old to
be playing with such a simple thing, but he liked
the way the animals had been carved and painted;
he especially liked the two spiders and two tiny flies
included in Noah's collection of creatures. Every so
often he looked up to check on his father, who was
asleep in the fireside chair with a tartan rug draped
over his knees. He had insisted on getting out of
bed after lunch, but had not managed to get any
further than the chair. Dad was going to get well, he
was certain of that; he'd even been able to talk to
the policeman and tell him who had attacked them,
and surely that must be a good sign. Nobody had
said anything to him about Harrison, though, who
had been too ill to talk to the policeman, and
everyone was obviously very worried about him -
especially Mrs Calderwood, who had sat up with
him every night. Perhaps that meant he was going
to die, and they thought he was too young to be told
about it. That was a horrible thing to imagine, and

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he knew it would make his father sad again; he'd
miss Harrison the way he'd always missed Joseph's
mother, and although they'd sometimes talk about
him and remember all the nice things they'd done
together it wouldn't be the same as having him here
and still being able to do them. He didn't like the
way that happened - the way you got fond of people
and then they died. It didn't really seem fair,
somehow. He stared into the fire and wrapped his
arms around his knees, to try to keep away the fear.

"Joseph?" Elizabeth spoke from the doorway,

quietly so as not to disturb Daniel. Abruptly the boy
scrambled to his feet and ran over to throw his arms
around her, holding tightly. He had never known
either of his grandmothers, they had both died
before he was born, but Mrs Calderwood was
everything he thought a grandmother ought to be,
and sometimes he forgot that they weren't really
related. "What is it, love?" she asked. "Come out
here, so we can talk without disturbing your father."

Out on the landing, Joseph rubbed the tears

from his face. He was a bit embarrassed about
crying, he was probably too grown-up for that now,
but this was a very difficult situation when all was
said and done.

"What's wrong, dear? You know Dr Crawford says

your father is doing very well." Joe glanced across
the stairwell to the opposite landing, where the door
to Harrison's room was firmly closed. "I know, but I
began to think … what would happen if Harry dies.
It would be so awful, and my dad would be
unhappy about it, and so would I."

Recognising in his words an echo of her own

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fears, but without the leavening of her experience,
Elizabeth could not help feeling sorry for the boy;
he was clearly distressed, and they had all been far
too busy coping with the requirements of two
invalids to remember to reassure him thoroughly.
She gathered him into her arms and hugged him
warmly. "I promise you," she said, making her
words as clear and emphatic as she could, "that
Harrison isn't going to die. I know he's been very
ill, and he's still not supposed to have visitors, but
he really

is a lot better." She paused. "He's asleep at

the moment, but if you want to we could creep in
and you could see him; you'll be able to see how
well he's looking, now that he's had plenty of sleep."

Joe could tell from the tone of her voice that this

really was a most enormous favour, and that he
would be wise to take advantage of it while he
could. "Please," he said, nodding vigorously.

Elizabeth took his hand and led him to the room,

where Alexandra sat beside the bed darning some
stockings; she paused and smiled at Joseph, and
placed a finger on her lips to indicate that he must
be quiet. He crossed the room softly, to stand beside
the bed. Harrison was pale, and there was a bruise
on his forehead, but otherwise he looked quite
normal. Joseph reached out to touch his hand, it felt
as warm as his own; that was a good sign, he knew,
and so was the look on Harrison's face; he didn't
look worried or frightened at all, so surely he was
getting better?

Joseph looked across at Elizabeth and smiled,

and she beckoned him out of the room. Outside on
the landing he gave vent to a huge sigh of relief.

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"Phew!"

"Happy now?" asked Elizabeth indulgently.
"Yes, thank you, Mrs Calderwood."
"Good, because I've got a new card game for us

to play together, and you didn't seem to be very
much in the mood for playing games. Shall we go
and find the cards?"

Looking in to the guest-room, they found Daniel

awake and so set the card table up in there.

"Do you want to play, Dad?" Joe offered, with

possibly a shade too much enthusiasm for the
circumstances.

"No, thank you, not this time. I'll just watch and

learn the rules. You'd better start off by reading
them, don't you think?" Which would suffice to keep
Joseph occupied for a few moments to allow Daniel
to talk to Elizabeth. "How's Harrison?" he asked her,
in a subdued tone.

"Oh, I think he's starting to get better, thank you.

We've just been in to see him, Joe and I." She
answered Daniel's swift glance with a shake of her
head. "No, I'm afraid he wasn't awake this time."

"I've read the rules," announced Joseph, holding

up the sheet of paper.

"Then you can tell me what we have to do,"

replied Elizabeth, settling herself at the table and -
perhaps somewhat unwisely - letting Joseph deal
the cards.

Daniel lay back in his chair, watching the card

game without paying it any real attention. It was
good of Elizabeth to have them here, he reflected,
and even Todd Calderwood had managed, in his
own bluff fashion, to thank him for bringing

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Harrison home; however he was convinced that
they would be wisest to return to Mrs Foxley's as
soon as he was properly able to walk.

Nothing much had changed, after all; his

feelings for Harrison were still as strong as ever -
stronger, even, since he had faced up to the certain
knowledge that Harry was going to die in his arms
in the coach. Now he would have to leave before he
gave himself away completely. For his own peace of
mind he and Joseph would be better off in
Manchester, as he had suggested once before; not
happier, it was true, but certainly safer from the risk
of making a fool of himself and alienating Harrison
Calderwood for ever.

Several days after Elizabeth's confrontation with

Todd, Harrison opened his eyes and, only half
awake, turned slightly towards the morning light
slanting in through the window; pain ambushed
him suddenly, stealing away his breath.

"Lie still, sir," instructed a deep voice. "Mrs

Grainger has had enough trouble already, we don't
want any more damage."

"Grainger?" whispered Harrison, surprised both

by Grainger's presence and the weakness of his
own voice. "Where's Mother?"

"Your brother, sir, sent her to get some rest. She

said if you woke up I had to make you drink this."
Grainger picked up a glass from the small table
beside the bed and with awkward, tender care
raised Harrison's shoulders sufficiently for him to
be able to swallow easily. Harrison was only able to
manage half the contents of the tumbler, however,

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before he lay back again, exhausted by the effort.

"How long have I been ill?" he asked, astonished

at how difficult everything seemed to have become.

"Nearly a week now, sir. You were attacked by

ruffians in the street, and brought home hardly
conscious."

He could just about remember something of the

attack but very little since other than a vague
pattern of lights, quiet voices, and hands that
soothed. "What about Daniel … Mr Harper? Was he
hurt, too?"

Grainger's manner, like that of any well-bred

upper servant, betrayed no trace of emotion
whatsoever. "Mr Harper is going to be all right, sir,"
he replied gravely. "He has been staying here, in
the guest-room, and his son in the old nursery."

"So Daniel

was injured, was he? I can't quite

remember … "

"Yes, sir, he was, but he brought you home in

spite of it," said Grainger, "and Dr Crawford is
looking after you both; the doctor thinks Mr Harper
saved your life."

Which, thought Harrison contentedly, wouldn't

be the first time.

"You should probably get some more sleep, sir, if

you can," suggested Grainger. "The doctor said you
were to drink plenty of liquids and rest as much as
possible, to make up for all the blood you lost."

"I am tired," Harrison conceded, "although I

don't know why, since I seem to have been asleep
for a whole week already."

"Well, sir, you go to sleep again for a little while,

and don't worry yourself about Mr Harper or

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anything else. We're taking very good care of him,
Mr Harrison, you may be sure of that."

But Harrison was drifting already, the effort of

staying awake even in such kindly company more
than he could sustain, his mind pleasantly occupied
with memories of dark hair, green eyes, and warm
remembrances of all the happy times he had spent
with Daniel, the very best of all friends.

Dr Crawford called at the house every day to

check that the treatment he had prescribed for
Daniel was being carried out properly, and that
Harrison did not suffer a relapse of any kind.

At the end of the last of several such visits he

packed away his equipment, washed and dried his
hands before speaking to Harrison.

"Your temperature has remained normal now for

over forty-eight hours; your pulse and respiration
the same. As long as you do not overtire yourself I
see no reason why you shouldn't have a visitor or
two - but not too much excitement," he warned.

He put his coat back on before speaking to

Elizabeth. "You may reduce the amount of
laudanum a little at a time."

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you, doctor, we'll do

that at once." She smiled at Harrison, who looked
exhausted.

Dr Crawford continued. "The wound is healing

nicely. I don't think you or your housekeeper will
have any trouble managing the dressings, or I can
send in a nurse."

"There is no need for a nurse; Mrs Grainger and

I will be able cope very well and I will send for you

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if I am concerned about anything."

"Good." Crawford collected his medical bag and

spoke again to Harrison. "Don't try to do too much
too soon, Mr Calderwood. I'll see you again in a few
days."

Elizabeth rang for Grainger to come and escort

Dr Crawford to the door.

When they had left she sat down in her

customary chair beside the bed. "That was good
news."

"I don't know what he expects me to be doing,"

complained Harrison tersely.

She smiled at his reaction. "Doctors are always

like that, they have to cover every eventually - after
all you may decide you want to go out dancing."

Harrison laughed then bit his lip as pain

blossomed across his abdomen.

"I'm sorry," apologised his mother, watching him

worriedly.

"I'm all right - really, I am," he assured her,

slightly out of breath.

"Can I get anything for you before I go

downstairs?"

"No, thank you. As stupid as it sounds, I think I

could go to sleep again."

"Well, that's all right," she said soothingly. "Sleep

is very good for you."

"How is Daniel?"
"Dr Crawford is very pleased with him too. His

knee is still swollen and very painful, but that apart
he is feeling much better and has begun to fret
about going home."

"You won't let him," protested Harrison

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anxiously.

"No, of course I won't." She stood up. "If you rest

now, perhaps Daniel could come and see you for a
little while after lunch."

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble for him, I

would like very much to see him."

She indicated a small brass bell on the bedside

table. "If you need anything just ring the bell."

Elizabeth left and Harrison closed his eyes. In a

few hours he would be able to see Daniel, and
happy with that thought he drifted into untroubled
sleep.

Elizabeth crossed the landing to Daniel's room

and knocked.

"Come in," called Daniel.
She went in, smiled at Daniel and looked

around. "Where's Joseph?"

"Downstairs with Alexandra." He smiled. "He's

working on some of those arithmetic problems that
Todd compiled for him."

"Poor Joseph." She watched him closely as she

said, "I told Harrison Dr Crawford was pleased with
you, but what did he actually say?"

Daniel sighed. "It will take time."
"Before you ask," Elizabeth said quickly, "it's far

too soon for you to think of leaving us."

Daniel did not argue, asking instead, "How is

Harrison?"

"Much better, Dr Crawford has said we can

begin to reduce the laudanum dosage he's been
taking."

"That is good news."

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"The doctor also said Harrison may have a

visitor; how would you like to be the first one?"

"Now?" asked Daniel eagerly, making her laugh.
"No, after lunch. You need to rest as well."
Elizabeth left and Daniel stared into the fire,

wondering if Harrison remembered anything of
their conversation before the attack.

Promptly at two o'clock Elizabeth arrived to

escort Daniel across the landing to Harrison's room,
but she spoke to Joseph first. "Alexandra is waiting
for you downstairs."

He didn't move. "I want to see Harry."
"And you will," she assured him. "I promise you

will have a proper visit with him tomorrow, but
today he needs to see your father."

Joseph looked to Daniel who said gently, "Don't

keep Miss Alexandra waiting."

The boy sighed but did as he was told.
"Harrison is all right?" Daniel asked, after Joseph

had left them.

"Yes, of course, but I think he needs to see you;

Joseph will have his turn tomorrow."

The landing, which was the width of a large

room, seemed endless to Daniel, but with the aid of
a walking stick and Elizabeth on the other side of
him he eventually managed it. He stopped outside
Harrison's door to catch his breath and then handed
the walking stick to Elizabeth.

"Daniel?"
"It's all right, I'll be able to manage."
She propped it against a nearby chair. "If you

insist."

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"I do."
"Before you go in I want you to promise me - no

discussions about work or about Connors. I don't
want Harry to be disturbed in any way."

"I understand - and I promise."
"Thank you." Elizabeth knocked before pushing

open the door. "You have a visitor."

Crossing the room Daniel tried to minimise his

limp but saw the quick sympathy in Harrison's face.

"When you're ready to leave, ring the bell and

someone will come to take you back to your own
room."

Elizabeth closed the door behind her and Daniel

sat down with a sigh of relief.

"I'm so sorry," said Harrison softly. "This was all

my fault."

Daniel found the change in Harrison heart-

breaking; pale and thinner faced, only the vivid
blueness of his eyes remained the same.

"No, it isn't your fault," denied Daniel. "This was

all Connors' fault, but I prefer not to talk about him."

Harrison nodded his agreement. "Then instead

I'd like to thank you for saving my life - and
bringing me home."

Reminded of that nightmare journey, Daniel

swallowed hard. "I knew it was what you and your
family would have wanted."

"I'm afraid I don't remember anything about it."
Daniel half smiled. "I would say that is a good

thing."

Harrison reached out his hand and Daniel held

it firmly between his own. He would do anything to
save Harrison from pain, and as soon as Harry was

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well enough to hear it he would repeat his decision
to move to Manchester, but for now he could simply
enjoy the return of their old sense of closeness.

"You look tired," Daniel said evenly.
"I'm immune to flattery," Harrison teased with a

smile.

"I mean it," insisted Daniel. "Perhaps I should

leave."

"No. Please, stay a little longer," begged

Harrison.

Daniel resisted the impulse to smooth the dark

hair back from Harrison's forehead. Why, he
wondered, did loving someone have to hurt so
much.

"If you close your eyes and try to sleep, I'll stay

for a while."

With a small nod of agreement Harrison did as

he was told and within minutes his regular
breathing showed he was deeply asleep.

The mantel-clock chimed the three-quarter mark

but Harrison did not stir. Daniel carefully released
Harrison's hand and stood up. Elizabeth had
instructed him to ring for help but he did not want
to see anyone just as the moment.

He left the room quietly and, forgetting about

the walking stick outside Harrison's door, began to
cross the landing.

Seeing him Todd halted at the bottom of the

stairs and watched as Daniel clung to the
balustrade for support. His slow and obviously
painful progress sent a spike of sympathy through
Todd, who was amazed that Harper would put
himself through such anguish to spend less than an

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hour with Harrison. He had promised his mother he
would not interfere and he would keep his word,
but he could see no future happiness for them.

At the end of three weeks, Daniel insisted on

returning home - despite protests from both Alex
and Elizabeth and a marked reluctance from
Joseph, who had grown rather too used to being in
a house filled with servants where there were
always adults willing and able to entertain him. Not
without misgivings, he said goodbye to Harrison
and limped down the stairs to where Elizabeth was
waiting in the hall.

"I do wish you'd reconsider," she told him, sadly.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you like,
you know. It's the very least we can do, after all
you've done to help Harrison."

"I'm afraid we really must go; if we don't, Mrs

Foxley might consider re-letting our rooms." Daniel
tried to make light of it, but there was no denying it
would be a wrench to leave. Nevertheless he felt it
must be done.

"You know she wouldn't do that," piped up

Joseph, seeming aggrieved on Mrs Foxley's behalf.
"She likes having us there, she's said so."

"Well, perhaps you're right, Joe," his father

conceded, "but nevertheless that's our home, and it's
where we really ought to be, now, isn't it?"

"I just want to be sure," persisted Elizabeth, "that

you're not going to try and do too much all at once.
I know you're intending to go back to work, for
example. Are you sure that's wise?"

"I really feel I should," explained Daniel.

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"Someone has to be there to take some of the
pressure off poor Mason; he's been coping on his
own for far too long, and it isn't fair to him to expect
that to continue."

The Calderwoods' driver, took their bags out to

the coach, and Daniel held out his hand to
Elizabeth. "Thank you for your hospitality, Elizabeth
and for looking after Joseph and me; we're more
than grateful for your generosity."

Elizabeth took his hand and, drawing him

towards her, reached up to kiss his cheek. "It's I who
am grateful," she said. "Thank you for saving my
son's life; I can never say that enough." She
released Daniel, and then turned to Joseph to hold
out her arms for a hug. "Don't forget, young man,
we want to see you and your father regularly; in
fact, I'll expect you both next Sunday afternoon for
tea."

"We won't forget," he promised, solemnly.

"Goodbye, Mrs Calderwood, please, say goodbye to
Alex for me when she gets back from seeing Miss
Seward."

Daniel was about to step out through the front

door and take his place in the carriage when some
instinct made him turn back and look up towards
the landing. Harrison was standing there, watching
them leave, although they had already said their
goodbyes to him; it was the first time he had been
out of his room since he had been brought back to it
in a state of collapse on the evening of the attack.
Daniel stopped in his tracks and opened his mouth
to speak, but found that words deserted him.
Instead he lifted one hand in an ineffectual parting

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wave, then turned and hurried out of the door; the
next time they met, he knew he would have to tell
Harrison that he was planning on leaving
Liverpool.

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CHAPTER 17

On the Sunday Daniel had promised to bring

Joseph to tea, Harrison thankfully reached the
bottom of the staircase for the first time. The wound
in his side was painful but he was far more
concerned about the unsettling weakness in his
knees that threatened to land him on his face at any
second, yet he persevered and - with a
stubbornness typical of the Calderwood family as a
whole - flatly refused his brother's offer of help.

"Well done," encouraged Elizabeth, while Todd

hovered anxiously nearby.

Although he was convinced that, if he did fall,

Todd would catch him before he ever hit the floor,
Harrison was touched by their obvious concern for
his welfare.

"At least it isn't much further," he said as, leaning

heavily on his father's cane, he slowly made his way
towards his chair in the drawing-room.

"Just remember you have to go back up those

stairs tonight," Todd reminded him, pointedly, the
unspoken corollary being that Harrison would not
be too proud to accept his assistance then.

"I may just sleep down here and save everyone a

lot of trouble," joked Harrison, as he lowered
himself carefully into the cushioned comfort of his
armchair.

"Well, now, do you think it would be safe to leave

you alone for a little while so that I can go out to see
Caroline?" his brother asked him in a tone of mock
severity. "Or do you have some activity in mind that
I need to stay to supervise?"

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"Not at all, I have no intention of moving from

this chair," Harrison informed him, smiling; most
forms of activity more strenuous than reading or
drinking tea were well beyond him at the moment.
"I think you should go out and enjoy yourself."

"Yes, you should." Elizabeth sat in her own chair

next to Harrison. "Don't forget to give Caroline all
our love."

With a nod of acknowledgement, Todd went to

get ready to leave.

Elizabeth watched in silence as Harrison

regained his breath; she could remember childhood
alarms and escapades, times when she feared for
his health if not also - occasionally - for his life, but
there had never been anything quite as dramatic as
the last few weeks and she silently thanked God
that he seemed to have come through his ordeal
safely at last.

"You're smiling, Mother; what are you thinking

about?"

"You, my dear." Reaching across, she pushed his

hair back affectionately from his forehead.
"Memories of when you were a boy; it seemed as if
you and Todd were never out of trouble."

Smiling he reached out his hand to clasp hers.

"We always had a lot of fun," he returned, matching
her wistful mood precisely. "It was a wonderful
childhood, and I have cause to be very grateful; it
does sadden me, though, to think that some
children are raised in very different circumstances -
like poor Rebecca, for example. When I was her age
I don't think I'd ever had an unhappy day in my life,

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and yet she's been brought up surrounded by
poverty and fear."

"I almost forgot," said Elizabeth. "I had a letter

from Rebecca; it came while you were so ill and I
haven't replied yet - I must do that today."

"How is she?" asked Harrison with concern.
"Very well. Mrs Rogers is taking really good care

of her - far better than her own mother ever did it
seems; she's enjoying her work and the company of
the other girls."

"I can't thank you enough for helping her."
Elizabeth smiled. "If it hadn't been for you and

Daniel I wouldn't have known anything about her,"
she said. "But I agree with you, it doesn't seem at all
fair. Then again, most people believe there is a
natural order of things that we shouldn't interfere
with. You know what the hymn says:

The rich man in his castle,

The poor man at his gate,

God made them high and lowly,

And ordered their estate."

"But you don't believe that, though, do you?"

Harrison asked her, his tone proclaiming clearly
that he was certain she did not.

"No, I don't. However, you need to remember

this; that whatever you try to do to alter the
condition of the poorest people in society, you will
be running up against men - they are usually men,
in my experience - who believe that the poor are
poor because God wants them to be so, and that
doing anything to help them is exactly the same
thing as offering defiance to God. They'll oppose it
for their own reasons, but they'll pretend to be

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doing God's bidding. But this is a conversation that
can wait until you're feeling stronger." Elizabeth
stood up. "Would you like me to get you anything?
Some tea, perhaps, or a book?"

"Some tea would be nice," replied Harrison,

accepting her change of mood without comment.
"I'll get the book myself."

"You will stay precisely where you are," she

ordered, with a smile. "You are to save your energy
for more important things. Now, which one do you
want?"

"I thought I'd renew my acquaintance with Allan

Quartermain; he's always so soothing to read
about."

Elizabeth looked along the bookshelf. "Anything

in particular?" she asked.

"Oh yes;

King Solomon's Mines, of course."

"Of course." She handed it over, and leaned

down to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll go and order the
tea," she said, turning towards the door.

Left alone, Harrison's fingers traced the pattern

embossed on the cover of the book. His mother
knew him so well - better than anyone else ever had
- and he thought she understood him, too, but
would he ever be able to tell her how he felt about
Daniel? It seemed unlikely. He gave a sigh. For that
matter, would he ever be able to tell Daniel himself
how he felt? It was very difficult to imagine even
knowing where to start.

The doorbell rang promptly at three o'clock that

afternoon and Grainger brought Daniel and Joseph
into the drawing-room. Elizabeth stood up as they

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came in. "Good afternoon, Daniel, Joseph."

"Good afternoon, Mrs Calderwood," replied

Daniel .

"You could take over looking after Harrison for

me, if you will," she suggested with a smile. "While
Joseph and I go off and do something much more
interesting until it's time for tea."

"Looking after?" protested Harrison. "How much

'looking after' do I need?"

"More than you can possibly imagine," quipped

his mother. "Now, I'm sure you two gentlemen have
important things to talk about, and Joseph and I
have important things to do." She took hold of the
boy's hand and he looked up at her as if she was the
Fairy Godmother and the Genie of the Lamp all
rolled up into one, clearly anticipating an
adventure. "If you need anything, just ring for Lily,"
Elizabeth instructed Daniel crisply, before leaving
them.

"My mother the whirlwind," said Harrison, as the

air in the room once more settled into stillness.
There were chattering voices elsewhere in the
house, however, and the sound of Joseph's laughter
to reassure them both.

Daniel glanced across to where the glasses and

decanters stood on a side table. "Would you mind if
I poured myself a drink?" he asked, nervously. It
was not the ideal solution, but what he had to say
might come to him more easily with a little Dutch
courage inside him.

"Not at all; please, help yourself."
"Will you have anything?" Daniel asked, pouring

himself a whisky.

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"No, thank you, it's a little early for me," he

explained.

Daniel returned, glass in hand, to sit opposite

Harrison. His searching gaze missed nothing in the
other man's appearance. Harrison looked tired, and
the darkness of his hair only served to accentuate
his pallor, but his smile was completely natural.
Daniel raised his glass in a toast. "You're looking
very well," he said, glad that he could mean it.

"If I am," replied Harrison, "we both know that

it's you I have to thank for it."

Daniel shook his head. "I didn't do anything

much," he replied, uncomfortably. "Crossley was the
real hero - he's a good man."

"I've written to thank him. Have the police

caught anyone yet, do you know?"

"That's one of the things I wanted to tell you,"

Daniel responded brightly, glad to be able to talk
about something solid, something real, rather than
the nebulous and insubstantial world of emotion.
"They caught one of the gang, and he was quite
happy to give Connors away; he's in jail now, along
with the rest of them They're charging them under
Section 18."

"'Grievous bodily harm'? That could mean penal

servitude for life."

"So it could. He should have thought of that

before he attacked us."

"He wasn't thinking much, if you ask me - and

he was too drunk to do any real damage, although I
don't suppose a judge will see that as a valid
defence, do you?"

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"No. And it could have been very much worse, of

course; if he'd cut a major vein or artery, we might
not have got you home in time to prevent it being a
charge of murder." Daniel gave an involuntary
shudder at these words. He did not want to think in
too much detail about just how close that had been.

"You're right, we were lucky; I kept thinking … if

he'd got hold of Rebecca, or even Joseph, they
wouldn't have been able to stand up to him."

"Well, it's all over now apart from the trial; you

should try to put it out of your mind, if you can."
Daniel had downed his whisky faster than was
strictly prudent, but being face to face with
Harrison like this made his decision to leave even
firmer - not to mention ten times more difficult to
accomplish.

"Daniel?" queried Harrison softly. "Is there

something the matter?"

Daniel took a deep breath. There was to be no

escaping this, and the sooner he got it over and
done with the better it would be. "What I have to
say, it isn't easy," he began, hoping that somehow it
would mitigate the blow.

Harrison's brow furrowed and he leaned forward

in his chair. "Go on," he encouraged, softly.

"You must realise how much I appreciate

everything you and your family have done for
Joseph and me," said Daniel, hearing with
disappointment the tremble in his own voice.

"But?" prompted Harrison, into the spreading

silence.

"Well, Joseph is settled, he gets on well with Mrs

Foxley, so there's no real reason he couldn't board

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there by himself for a while … " But he had started
at what should have been the end, he realised, and
halted again while he tried to gather his elusive
thoughts.

"On his own? But I don't understand, Daniel -

why would he need to?"

Daniel looked down at the empty glass in his

hand; it really hadn't made things easier after all,
only a hundred times more complicated; he ought
to have known better. "I've been in touch with my
wife's relatives," he said. "My brother-in-law in fact;
I have the chance of a position in Manchester, with
a very prestigious firm of solicitors."

Harrison was silent for a moment, obviously

digesting this information and finding it quite
unpalatable. "And you intend to leave Joseph
behind, do you?"

"Of course not. I'll come and fetch him, as soon

I'm properly settled into suitable lodgings, but he'll
be quite all right where he is for a while."

"Is it money? Are they offering to pay you more?

Because you know we could reconsider your
salary…" Harrison spoke calmly, but Daniel could
tell that it was forced. There were small patches of
heightened colour appearing on his cheeks, as if
the fever was returning, and an expression of
distress in his eyes.

"It isn't anything to do with money, Harry; you've

always been more than generous, and I have no
complaints about my salary."

"Then why go to Manchester at all, for Heaven's

sake?"

"I think it's time Joseph knew something about

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his mother's family." The lie came easily - too easily;
it sounded like an excuse. Finally daring to look up,
Daniel was shaken by the extent of the pain in
Harrison's eyes, but continued doggedly. "I wanted
to ask you if you'd keep an eye on Joseph for me
while I'm away; you know how fond he is of you."

Momentarily unable to reply Harrison nodded,

but the expression on his face was grave and
wounded and troubled all at once. It was the look of
a man who felt he had been betrayed, and could not
understand why.

Thankful to have given his news, and

considering that to be the end of the matter, Daniel
stood up; he wanted to escape as soon as possible
from the hurt and dismay in Harrison's eyes. "I
think in the circumstances it would be better if
Joseph and I didn't stay for tea," he said, whilst
mentally berating himself for cowardice. "I'll
apologise to Elizabeth."

"No, Daniel, wait!" Harrison reached out to grasp

his arm; the movement clearly pulled against the
wound in his side, but he got carefully to his feet.
"How soon are you planning to leave Liverpool?" he
asked.

This was intolerable, thought Daniel, and so

much more difficult than it need have been. "As
soon as possible," he replied. "I'm sorry."

Harrison caught hold of the back of the chair for

support, and alarmed by his increasing paleness
Daniel took hold of his arm.

"I think you'd better sit down again," he advised

him, gently.

Harrison shrugged off his concern. "I'm quite all

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right," he protested, in a tone that brooked no
argument.

"No, you're not, not by a long way; sit down, I

say." He watched Harrison levelly for a moment.
"Do you want me to have to call your mother, or Mr
Grainger? Because you know I will, and you know
just what they'll say to you."

"No, don't do that." Reluctantly, mutinously,

Harrison sank back into the depths of his armchair.

Daniel went to the side table and poured him a

glass of brandy. "Drink this," he instructed. "It will
do you good." And, to his relief the spirit brought
some colour back into Harrison's face, and his
breathing had gradually begun to ease.

"Will you do something for me, Daniel?"

Harrison asked him, quietly.

"If I can." He would have promised anything at

all, he realised, if only this conversation would end!

"Don't leave the firm just yet; stay at the office, at

least until I'm back on my feet and can sort out
something about a replacement."

The longer he stayed, the more chance there was

of his making a complete fool of himself - and yet
Daniel found himself agreeing to Harrison's
request. "Very well," he said, "I'll stay for a while,
but I really must leave as soon as you're well again."

"Why?" Shamelessly taking advantage of the

closeness that enveloped them, Harrison lowered
his voice to a more intimate register. "And don't try
to tell me it's because Joseph needs to know his
mother's relatives, because I'm afraid that's just not
good enough for me."

"My reasons are personal," said Daniel slowly,

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imprinting Harrison's face ever more firmly into his
memory; they might never be this close again. "I
prefer not to discuss them."

Harrison lowered his gaze. "Ah. I think I

understand - and I'm very sorry."

Daniel recoiled slightly from the coolness of the

voice. Had he somehow given himself away after
all?. "You will keep an eye on Joseph for me,
though?" he asked, suddenly in need of
reassurance.

"For as long as you want me to." Harrison looked

up. "You don't have to leave, Daniel; whatever is
wrong, surely we can come up with some sort of a
solution for it?"

"No, I think it would better for both of us if I

went - I'm sorry." But Daniel hesitated. "Are you
sure you'll be all right? Do you want me to call
someone?"

"No. Thank you." The latter had sounded like a

very distant afterthought.

"I'd better find Joseph," said Daniel, edging

towards the door. Now that he had said what he
came to say, he suddenly could not bear to be under
this roof any longer.

"Let him stay, Daniel, he's enjoying himself so

much." A further burst of childish giggling had
emerged from elsewhere in the house; clearly
wherever Joseph was and whatever he was doing,
he was being royally entertained. "We'll make sure
he gets home safely, in a little while."

"No, I think we should both go now." It sounded

awful, even to himself, so horribly final, but Daniel
simply could not think of any other way to make the

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break, and make it completely, and he knew beyond
a shadow of a doubt that that was precisely what he
must do - and quickly, for Harrison's sake as well as
his own.

It wasn't an easy departure; Joseph didn't want

to leave, and Elizabeth couldn't understand why
they had to go. Harrison could hear the argument
from the hall, and then the sound of the front door
closing. He leaned forward, hands covering his
face, fighting a pain so intense that he could hardly
bear it.

Elizabeth came in to the room and Harrison

straightened up, trying to conceal his emotional
upheaval as well as the physical pain.

"What on earth is wrong? Why have they left so

early?"

Before Harrison could formulate a reply, the

front door opened again. Todd had arrived home.
He came straight into the drawing-room, clearly in
an urgent frame of mind.

"I've just seen Harper and the boy; I thought

they were supposed to be staying to tea?" He looked
more closely at Harrison. "What's happened? Are
you ill again?"

Heavily, Harrison realised that both his relatives

wanted answers from him and would not give up
until they had them. It was simply a question of
presenting the bad news in the best possible light,
now, so that it would no reflect too badly upon
Daniel. "Daniel thought it better not to stay," he
said. "He's intending to take a job in Manchester,
which means I shall have to look for another

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confidential clerk."

"Of all the ungrateful … " Todd was too furious to

finish the sentence coherently. "After all you've
done for him, as well!"

Elizabeth caught hold of her elder son's arm to

prevent him saying anything further. "Did he give
any reason?" she asked Harrison, her tone nothing
but sympathetic.

"Yes, he did. His late wife had relatives there,

and he wants Joseph to get to know them."

"That's not a reason, it's an excuse," thundered

Todd. "This is the first we've heard of any relatives
in Manchester; are we quite sure they even exist?"

"Daniel wouldn't lie about a thing like that,"

responded Harrison, quickly. "I'm quite sure he
thinks it would be best for Joseph to know his
mother's family, but … "

"Well? There's more, isn't there?"
"There is." Harrison locked glances with Todd.

"Thank you for not saying 'I told you so'."

Todd let out a long, despairing sigh and shook

his head slowly. "I'm sorry," he said. "If it's any
consolation, I think I would far rather have been
wrong about him."

"Thank you, Todd; that's generous of you, but the

fact is that you were right and I was wrong, and I'll
just have to put it down to experience. Now, if you'll
excuse me, I think I'll go back up to my room; I find
I'm rather tired."

"Will you be coming down again later for

dinner?" asked Elizabeth, kindly but clearly
betraying her own misgivings.

"I don't think so, thank you, Mother. Not

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tonight." And he kissed her in passing, gathering up
all his strength to do battle with a flight of stairs
which had suddenly taken on the forbidding aspect
of an Alpine face, and which he would have to take
slowly and carefully or he would have little hope of
ever getting to the top.

Silently Todd and Elizabeth watched his

progress until he turned the corner of the stairs,
before going back into the drawing-room together.
Todd was struggling to contain a very righteous
anger which always seemed to bubble to the surface
whenever he had convinced himself that his brother
was under attack.

"That ungrateful little … I've got a good mind to

go down there and …"

"And do what?" interrupted Elizabeth wearily.

She had heard far too many empty threats issuing
from male mouths over the years, and wished they
would think a little more about what they were
saying. Apart from anything else, solving problems
with violence was more the province of a lout like
Connors than a gentleman like Todd. "Pour me a
drink, please; we need to think this through."

"Sherry?" he asked, lifting the stopper from the

decanter.

"Whisky; this is serious."
Todd didn't raise an eyebrow, but simply opened

another decanter and sloshed strong measures into
two tumblers; the situation seemed to warrant it,
somehow. Elizabeth sat down delicately on the very
edge of the sofa and sipped her drink
appreciatively. "Did you speak to Daniel when you

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saw him outside? How did he look to you?"

"I don't know; miserable, I suppose. He was very

quiet, and Joseph didn't even speak. In fact they
both looked as if they'd lost a sixpence and found a
penny."

"That doesn't sound very much like a man

escaping from an intolerable situation, does it?"
asked Elizabeth. "Surely, Daniel would at least be
feeling some kind of relief at the prospect of being
free from unwanted attention?"

"But he didn't look like a man who had just

solved a problem, or freed himself from an
uncomfortable association," Todd conceded,
thoughtfully. "What is it you're trying to say,
Mother?"

"Oh dear, I honestly wish I knew! I don't know if

even Harrison is quite clear about Daniel's reasons
for making this decision."

"Well, it sounds to me very much as if Harper

doesn't want whatever it is that Harrison's offering
him." Elizabeth glanced up speculatively towards
her elder son, who was pacing backwards and
forwards with such military precision that he
seemed likely to wear a hole in the hearth-rug. "I
don't know," she replied. "Since your talk with him,
Harry's probably been so careful that Daniel doesn't
even know there's anything

being offered. They

may not have managed to make themselves clear to
one another at all," she concluded, mournfully. "Oh,
it's all so confusing!"

Todd considered what she'd said. "You mean you

think Harper wants the same thing Harry does, but
he doesn't think there's any chance that Harry will

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agree to it?"

"That's it exactly, Todd, and that's why he's

leaving Liverpool - he's going to protect Harry,
because he's somehow got it into his head that
Harry couldn't possibly want him. I do wish I could
just bang their heads together and make them see
sense," she added in exasperation.

The affection of two men for each other of any

but a comradely or brotherly nature, was something
Todd simply could not quite envision, but he
reasoned that if that was what Harrison wanted
from Daniel then there was really only one course
of action to be taken. "We'll have to do something
about it, then," he said.

"Yes, but I don't know quite what," agreed

Elizabeth. "We'll have to think about it." Then, after
a few minute's deliberation, "You'll just have to talk
to him yourself, that's all."

"Which one, Harper? Yes, I can probably talk

some sense into him." It wouldn't be easy, but he
often had to be persuasive in his business dealings
and usually ended up getting his own way - most of
the time, at least. This should be no more difficult
than that, he thought.

"No, I mean Harrison. Persuade him to speak to

Daniel about his feelings before it's too late for both
of them."

"Oh, he won't listen to me at all," protested Todd,

horrified by the prospect of facing his brother and
willing to walk over hot coals to avoid it if he could.

"He listened to you before," his mother pointed

out coolly, "and just look at the damage it's done. I
think you owe it to him to try and put it right if you

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can - don't you?"

And of course, when she put it that way, Todd

had little choice but to agree.

"Very well," he conceded, with a great show of

reluctance. "But when he throws me out and tells
me to mind my own bloody business - well, please
don't say I didn't warn you!"

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CHAPTER 18

When Harrison ignored the knock at his

bedroom door it was repeated - insistently.

"Harry, it's Todd," came the voice from outside,

although he had known it anyway. "We have to talk,
it's important."

Harry sighed. If there was one thing he knew for

sure about his brother, it was that Todd would not
give in, and therefore the only way to get rid of him
was to let him have his say and hope it wouldn't
take too long.

"The door's open," he answered, heavily.

Harrison was sitting by the fire, its low flickering
light the only illumination in the room. He did not
get up or turn to look towards his visitor. "What is it,
Todd? What do you want?"

"We have to talk," his brother repeated

stubbornly.

"And it can't wait?" Harrison shook his head

slowly; his life was collapsing around him and Todd
presumably wanted to discuss business. He couldn't
have picked a worse time if he'd tried, but then that
was Harry's contribution to the family; his speciality
was legal advice, and matters of business took no
account of heartbreak or any other personal
emotion. "Go ahead," he sighed, and prepared
himself to offer guidance on some obscure point of
contract law or other.

"I want to talk to you about Daniel Harper," his

brother told him steadily.

Really, this was too much. Harrison looked up at

him then, allowing all the anger and pain he was

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feeling to show, not troubling to restrain himself in
the face of the expected mockery or sermonising. It
was bad enough to have to suffer these emotions in
the first place - and Heaven knew he'd tried to
shield himself against them - but having to defend
himself against his brother in addition was more
than he could reasonably be expected to bear.

"Get out of my room," he ordered tightly. "I'm not

going to discuss this with you."

"No," refused Todd. "I'm sorry, but this is

important. I want you to listen to me, Harry."

"Why? You have what you wanted - Daniel is

going to be out of my life from now on, he's moving
to Manchester; surely that's enough for you? Now,
please, just leave me alone."

"I know," said Todd. "But perhaps it doesn't have

to be like that. "You could try talking to him,
couldn't you? After all, talking's what you do best,"
he added.

Harrison rarely lost his temper with his brother,

having learned over the years to withdraw into a
detached disdain which Todd had never seemed to
find an answer for. This he did again now. "Why the
turnaround, Todd? Why this sudden concern?" he
asked, the deceptively calm voice masking his
roiling inner turmoil.

Todd sat down firmly on the edge of the bed and

stared at him for a long moment before replying.
"I've come to the conclusion, Harry, that maybe you
were wrong. No, hear me out," he continued, when
Harrison opened his mouth to object, and then
continued, not quite looking at him. "It seems to me
that the pair of you are both making a lot of

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assumptions about what the other one wants. That
happens in business sometimes too, and it always
leads to disaster." He paused. "It may be painful, but
I think at least you ought to clear the air with him;
if you don't, then we'll never really know why he's
doing this."

"We?" queried Harrison, icily. "'We' are not

involved in this, Todd; this is not a family matter,
this is personal, and there are only two things you
really need to know - and the first is that yes, I do
love Daniel. You know, I wasn't even sure of that
myself at first, not even when you so kindly pointed
it out to me, so I suppose I should be grateful. The
second thing is that Daniel is leaving the city for
reasons of his own, and I have absolutely no right to
try to interfere with that in any way. Now, is all that
clear enough for you?"

Silently Todd nodded, but was unable to resist

making one further attempt to persuade him. "I still
think you may be wrong," he said. "Don't you owe it
to yourself to find out?"

"I'm not really very much interested in what you

think," countered Harrison wearily. "What I would
like most is to be left alone, Todd. I didn't come to
you looking for an argument, you came to me - and
I wish you would just go away again. So, if you
don't mind …"

"Harry … "
"Out, Todd. Now. Please."
This last syllable was far more ragged and

painful than he had intended it to be, but he was
very close to reaching the end of his tether - if he
had not already left it far behind him - and it was

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with relief that he heard the door closing behind his
brother, leaving him with only the bleakness of his
thoughts for company.

Elizabeth was waiting for Todd at the bottom of

the stairs. "Well, what happened?" she asked,
following him as he strode into the drawing-room
and poured himself a glass of brandy before turning
to face her.

"I don't like to say 'I told you so', Mother," he

growled, "but he's even more angry with me now
than he was before."

"I'm sorry, Todd; we had to try."
"

We? It was me you sent in there! I'm sure you

could have done a better job of it yourself," he
added, ruefully. "You know how ill-at-ease I am with
this sort of thing."

"Yes, dear, I do," his mother conceded. "But if you

were Harrison, wouldn't you rather talk to your
brother, who at least had some idea of what was
going on, than your mother, who you were quite
convinced didn't understand any of it? He seems to
think he's protecting me from something," she
added, with a sad little smile, "and I have no
intention of destroying his illusions unless I really
have to."

Todd, who had long been aware that both his

mother and his brother was rather more subtle
thinkers than he was himself, could only marvel at
her perception. "So," he said, "what do think we
should do now?"

"I'll talk to him myself," Elizabeth decided firmly.

"But later, when we've had dinner." She smiled up at

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her elder son. "We'll take him something to eat, and
you can carry the tray for me."

This, Todd realised, was her way of showing him

that he was forgiven, and he gave her a brief hug in
acknowledgement.

"Well, if anyone can convince Harrison to

change his mind it would probably be you," he
conceded. "You're so alike. I'm more like father, I
suppose; I just like life to be straightforward and
simple, but it never is, somehow."

"No, it isn't. All the same, though, I think it's

simpler for you than it is for your brother," Elizabeth
told him, wisely.

"Well, that's certainly true. I take it Alex doesn't

know anything about all this, by the way?" Todd
asked, almost as an afterthought.

"No, she doesn't. With Harry so much improved

she's been out with Stephen all day and she's
having dinner there; with any luck, we can get him
to see some sense before she comes home, and she
need never know anything about it at all."

Dinner that evening was a silent meal, with Todd

and Elizabeth each lost in their own thoughts.
Elizabeth believed with all her heart that Harrison
had a right to be happy, and if his happiness was
dependent on Daniel Harper then so be it; she
would support him in any way she could, and
Heaven help anyone who voiced an objection to
her. Above all, Harrison wasn't going to be allowed
to disappear from her life the way James Weston
had from his parents'; she had no intention of ever
being ashamed of him, whatever difficult decision

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he might one day be called upon to make.

When dinner was over, she requested Grainger

to bring a tray of food to the dining-room for
Harrison.

"Would you like me to take it upstairs for him,

Mrs Calderwood?" he asked her, deferentially, when
he had brought it,

"No, thank you; Todd is going to carry it for me

this time." This was as much self-protection as
anything else, she reasoned; if Harrison was going
to be difficult, she didn't particularly want the butler
to be involved. Faithful and trusted servant though
he was, this was a family matter and would be kept
as such as long as she had anything to say on the
subject.

With a quizzical look and a raised eyebrow in

the direction of the master of the house, Grainger
placed the tray on the sideboard and withdrew.

"Well, shall we go?"
With a small show of reluctance, Todd picked up

the tray and followed his mother up the stairs.
Elizabeth knocked firmly on Harrison's door but
there was no immediate reply; unsurprised she
rapped again, more sharply this time. "Harrison?
May I come in, please?"

"The door isn't locked," he responded

ungraciously from within, and Elizabeth - sighing -
steeled herself for the encounter to come. She
turned the handle and pushed the heavy door open
slightly, before turning to take the tray from Todd.
Silently she smiled her thanks and backed into the
room, and Todd pulled the door closed behind her
before turning away and going back downstairs.

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At the sight of the tray his mother was carrying,

Harrison began to make some attempt to get up,
but he was still very weak and made a very poor
showing. This, in turn, occasioned further
impatience; an active man, confined to one room for
such a long time, he had begun to display a certain
amount of frustration with his lot. "I'm sorry,
Mother, I would have opened the door for you if I'd
realised."

"Thank you, but there was no need." She put the

tray down and sat on the edge of the bed. "I brought
your brother up with me, to help with the difficult
parts." She reached out to rest her hand briefly on
his forehead. "How are you feeling now, Harry?"

"Tired," was all he said, and his weary tone gave

ample evidence of it.

"That's only to be expected," she soothed,

straightening up. "As you can see, I've brought you
something to eat."

He shook his head. "Thank you, but I'm not very

hungry at the moment," he said.

"Hungry or not," insisted his mother, "you have

to eat something. Come and sit by the fire with me,
and we can talk at the same time."

Carefully Harrison swung his feet to the floor

and stood up. Elizabeth, aware that his movements
were still awkward, had turned away to allow him
his privacy and was busy trying to restore some life
to the dying fire, and when he had settled into the
armchair she handed him a linen napkin and a
plate. "It isn't much," she said, placing a glass on
the small table beside him. "Just a beef sandwich
and a glass of wine. It will do you good to eat it all."

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Clearly knowing better than to argue, Harrison

accepted his fate and bit into the sandwich.
Elizabeth remained quiet while he ate, gazing into
the strengthening flames.

Harrison took a sip from his wine glass. "I think I

owe Todd an apology, don't I?"

Elizabeth turned towards him. "Why do you say

that?" she asked him.

"Oh, because he was trying to be kind and I …

well, I told him to leave," he confessed, hanging his
head.

"Todd will get over it," she told him, robustly. "It's

not the first time you've ordered him out of your
room, after all, and I don't suppose it will be the
last." She tilted her head slightly to one side as she
looked at him. "But don't you think you should
consider doing as he suggested, and talk things
over with Daniel properly?"

Taken aback by the suggestion, Harrison could

only stare at her. "He told you?" he asked, in a tone
of disbelief which she could well understand. After
all, it had been established when they were children
that although Todd might not always approve of
everything his brother did he would not as a
general rule betray a confidence.

"No," replied Elizabeth evenly, "you did, yourself.

Those nights when you were ill with fever after the
attack, all you ever talked about was Daniel
Harper." She took a deeper breath. "And you should
know that it wasn't Todd's idea for him to come up
here and talk to you earlier; it was mine."

"Well, then, you already know the worst."

Harrison leaned his forehead despairingly into his

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hands. "I wanted to tell you a long time ago," he
said softly. "But somehow I never seemed to have
the words."

"No," she confessed. "Neither did I, and that's

why I sent Todd; it was easier than trying to talk to
you myself - because I wasn't quite sure that I could
find the right words to say without embarrassing
you, and Harry - we do have to talk about this."

He raised his head to look at her. "No we don't,

Mother, not if you don't want to. It's over, after all."

"Is it?" she demanded. "Is that really what you

want? Just to let Daniel walk out of your life without
making any attempt to explain to him how you
feel?"

"Oh, he knows already," said Harrison, an edge

of bitterness colouring his tone. "Can you think of
any other good reason why he'd want to leave
Liverpool?"

"I do agree that he's probably trying to get away

from you," Elizabeth told him, fully aware of the
pain her words were causing, and being given
abundant evidence of it when Harrison picked up
the glass and drained the contents in one gulp. "But
have you ever stopped to ask yourself exactly why?"
she persisted, calmly.

"I don't have to ask myself, do I?" was the sour

response. "Todd pointed out in some detail how I
could use my position as Daniel's employer to …
put pressure on him … to coerce him into
something he had no desire to do."

"Rubbish!" objected Elizabeth sharply. "That's

quite ridiculous!"

"Oh, really? I can assure you, Todd doesn't think

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so."

Elizabeth's mouth folded into a fine line of

disapproval. "Sometimes, Harry - and this is
unquestionably one of those times - I'm sorry to say,
your brother just doesn't think at all: he

reacts, and

that's never a good thing." She made an effort to
bring her irritation under control. "I'm aware that
being in love is supposed to addle the brain," she
said exasperatedly, "but anyone who knows you -
and that includes Daniel - understands you would
never misuse your authority in any way, and
certainly not to …" For once words failed her and
she took a deep breath. "Well, you're the lawyer;
surely you can think of another possible
interpretation?"

Harrison ran his fingers through his hair,

frowning as his thoughts took form. "I suppose," he
said, slowly, "if Daniel isn't actually afraid of me,
then it's possible he might be ... afraid of himself?"

"Exactly. That was the conclusion I had come to,

I must admit."

"It doesn't help, though; in either case, he's still

afraid."

"Yes, he is - he's afraid of hurting you, Harry.

Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?"

She could see how desperately he wanted to

believe her, as he searched his memories. Almost
from their first meeting, she knew, there had been a
warmth, a recognition of friendship, and that
friendship had grown and deepened until it had
become the most important in his life - eclipsing all
others until it almost rivalled the bonds Harrison
shared with his family. And if Daniel had

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experienced the same growing dependence, surely
it must mean that the emotions between them were
equally shared?

"But you were determined to hide how you felt

about him," she continued. "Isn't it possible that was
what drove him away? That he thought you didn't
care for him in the way he cared for you?"

"God in Heaven," Harrison groaned, "it's such a

mess. I've been so desperate not to impose my
feelings … my wishes … on him, that it never
occurred to me that his own …" He shook his head.
"But I still have no real evidence … "

"Possibly not," concurred his mother. "At least,

not yet - but there's no reason why the two of you
can't sort it out between you if you'd only stop
hiding from each other. Surely, Harry, what this
situation calls for is simple honesty; nothing more,
and certainly nothing less."

"I wish I thought it would be as easy as that,"

Harrison replied, wistfully.

"Well, isn't it? You know your own business better

than I do, Harry, but how difficult can it really be to
tell someone you love them? Are you really
expecting it to turn out for the worst?"

"Mother, please; you know it isn't that

straightfoward. You do understand what we're
talking about, don't you? About a … a physical
attraction."

"Yes, my dear, I do know," she told him softly,

thinking that perhaps she had never been prouder
of him than she was at that moment. "When you
were younger - and so pretty! - I was sometimes
afraid you'd get mixed up with an older man who

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would be unkind to you, or do something else
completely foolish. Your engagement to Beth, I must
admit, came as something of a surprise."

"You never said anything at the time,"

commented Harrison, his eyebrows lifting in
apparent surprise that she had managed to know
something about him that he had not fully realised
himself. Yet, as his mother, she had watched his
development with a keen interest every single day
of his life, and she understood him as perhaps
nobody else on earth would ever do - with the
possible exception, perhaps, of Daniel Harper.

"I had to let you work things out on your own,"

she said, reaching across to take hold of his hand.
"But I knew that sooner or later the right time would
come … and the right man. I can't imagine that you
and Daniel would ever do anything to scandalise
society, but even if you did you would still be my
son, and I am now and always will be very proud of
you. Very proud indeed," she added, leaning
forward to kiss his cheek. "I hope you'll never lose
sight of that, Harry."

"Thank you," he managed to whisper, although it

apparently cost him something of an effort.

"So, do you think you'll be able to talk to Daniel

now?"

He nodded distantly, still seeming stunned by

the intensity of their conversation but with a new
determination to his features. "In a day or two,
perhaps. What have I got to lose, after all?"

Elizabeth smiled her approval. "I'm glad," she

said. "May I have your permission to tell Todd, and
put him out of his misery?"

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"Todd?" he echoed, in mystification. "Miserable?

Why on earth would he be miserable?"

"Oh, Harry, you know he'd never deliberately

hurt you. He didn't realise the damage he was
doing, and now he's mortified and wants to help to
put it right if he can."

Harrison nodded thoughtfully. "I do understand,

Mother. Whatever he did was from the best of
motives, I know that - and I didn't have to listen to
him, did I? Everything that followed on from that -
well, it was my fault; not Daniel's, and it certainly
wasn't Todd's. It was mine - alone."

"Well, perhaps I'll remind him of that," declared

Elizabeth getting to her feet. "It's certainly one of
the most generous things I've ever heard you say,
but I might have known that you would take it that
way. Now, I think it's probably just about time you
went to bed, don't you? You've had enough
excitement for one day." And if that was precisely
what she would have said to him at the age of five
when he had spent the entire day fishing in the
pond with a bent pin, or fallen out of the apple tree
yet again, well, neither of them seemed to take it
particularly amiss; the occasion was an unusual
one, when all was said and done. Determinedly she
picked up the tray and turned towards the door. "Do
you want me to send Grainger to help you get
ready?" she asked, in a tone that signified business
as usual.

"No, thank you, Mother," he assured her. "I'll be

able to manage well enough on my own, I think."

"Just as you like, my dear," she told him, opening

the door to leave.

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The days until he had permission to leave the

house seemed almost unending to Harrison. He
frequently rehearsed what he would say to Daniel,
only to reject it and begin again so often that when
at last the time came he no longer had any clear
idea what he would do or how he would approach
the subject - only that he would; he must.
Eventually, however, Dr Crawford told him that he
could go out and about again, but on no account
was he to even consider returning to work. Well,
that suited Harrison; there was only one place he
wanted to go, and it was emphatically not his office.
Todd, who had business to deal with at the dock
office, insisted on driving him into town, and
setting him down within easy walking distance of
the shelter in Eden Street.

When he arrived, Harrison waited inside the

doorway for some time to allow his eyes to adjust to
the reduced light inside the large, old building. He
could see Daniel, who was busy mending a chair,
his whole attention concentrated on the work.
Harrison did not need to see his face clearly to
know his expression would be intense, that there
would be a slight furrow between the dark brows,
and unexpectedly he felt the full weight of his
affection for the man wash over him in a flood, and
now he was sure he knew the full truth at last. He
had worried and agonised over his feelings, had
even admitted to Todd that he was in love with
Daniel, but it was only now - watching him at work
- that he realised for himself quite how deeply he
loved him. His love for Beth seemed now to have

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been an adolescent emotion, unformed, a mere
rehearsal for the real thing; this love, however, had
its roots deep in his very existence and would
always be a part of who he was. It did not rely for its
continuance on Daniel accepting or rejecting him;
it was simply there and would remain there always,
as fundamental as the beating of his heart.

He crossed the room to stand beside him.

"Daniel?" Warmth and concern suffused the green
eyes as Daniel looked up, filling Harrison with
rejoicing. He hardly dared allow himself hope that
perhaps they could put their difficulties behind
them at last, but Daniel's expression was certainly
encouraging.

"Come and sit down," said Daniel, offering him a

hand.

"Thank you, I will; I do feel a bit fragile,"

Harrison admitted, sitting down carefully on the
cot-bed.

"Would you like me to organise some tea for

you?"

"Yes, please, Daniel, I would." Now that his eyes

were accustomed to the light, Harrison was looking
around the building's interior; it was almost exactly
as he remembered it. "Where's Joseph today?"

"He's gone to the market with Mrs Morris, she's

got a lot to carry back. He'll be very sorry he's
missed you." Daniel went over to fetch two cups of
tea from the kitchen alcove, where a kettle was
always boiling and a pot always brewing, brought
them back to where he sat, and joined him sitting
on the cot.

"You didn't walk down, I hope?" he said,

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apparently only just having thought of this.

"No. I rode in the carriage with Todd; he's gone

to do some business at the dock-office. He intends
to collect me on the way home."

"Does this mean you're back in circulation,

then?" asked Daniel, hopefully.

"No," replied Harrison. "But I came here because

… because I needed to talk to you."

"About the practice?" Daniel shifted awkwardly

in his seat and appeared to be fending off any more
intimate contact.

"No. As far as I can tell, everything seems to be

managing itself very well without me. I appreciate
very much you agreeing to stay and help Mason
until I could find someone else to take over, but
Daniel, I …" He stopped there, wondering why it
was so bloody difficult to find the right words.
Words were his trade, for heaven's sake, his way of
life, so why could he never seem to find the right
words to say to this one man who meant so much to
him? "I would like you to reconsider your decision
to leave," was what he heard himself saying now,
but it didn't seem anything like enough.

"No, I can't."
"Daniel, please ... just listen to me for a moment."
"No, Harry, it would do no good; my mind's

made up, and I have no intention of changing it
now. You're a good employer, I'm certain you'll have
no difficulty filling my position." Daniel rose to his
feet again, taking a few distracted paces, not
knowing what to do with his tea-cup and clinging to
it as though it represented salvation.

The mood between them had darkened

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suddenly, and Harrison realised with a shock he
had no longer had any pride to bolster him up;
nothing at all to hide behind. "This isn't about the
practice," he said, despairingly. "Leave my office if
you feel you must - but please, don't leave the city."

Daniel stood still. "Can you tell me why?" he

asked finally. "If it isn't about the practice, I mean."

"It's rather personal," said Harrison quietly. "I'm

not sure that … "

"Mister Harper!" A shout from a man in the

doorway shattered their rapport.

"Damn," swore Harrison with soft vehemence;

this was emphatically not the best of times for an
interruption, and he would cheerfully have seen the
man in Hades if he could. A further moment's
thought, however, reminded him that it would no
doubt be a genuine emergency, some poor
benighted soul in need of Daniel's help, and he
really could not find it in his heart to begrudge it to
him.

He looked up to see Daniel staring at him.
"Mister Harper!" The cry was repeated.
"I'll be right there," replied Daniel, half-turning.

"Harry, can you stay?"

Stiffly Harrison scrambled to his feet. Perhaps

the interruption had been providential; they weren't
going to be able to talk here, anyway. "Not this
time, I'm afraid, but I wondered if you'd have dinner
with me some time?"

"Yes, of course - thank you. When?"
"Soon, I hope," promised Harrison wryly. "When

I don't need Todd to chaperone me any more. I'll
send you a note in a day or two."

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"All right. I'll wait to hear from you then."
Daniel, parting from him with a nod of the head,

went over to speak to the man at the door, and then
immediately went outside with him to deal with
whatever it was. Left alone, Harrison took a deep
breath; he hadn't said any of the things he had been
planning to say for the last few days, but what he
had said must have been effective in some way.
Nothing had been agreed except a dinner
engagement, but he felt a great deal happier now
than he had on the way into town. He checked his
watch. Todd would not be free for at least another
hour, perhaps more. He decided to take a cab down
to the dock and wait for Todd in his office, and then
his brother might be persuaded not to spend all day
there.

The carriage had begun the ascent to Falconer

Square before Todd plucked up sufficient courage
to ask the question which must have been preying
on his mind. "Was everything all right at the shelter,
Harry?"

Surreptitiously Harrison pressed his hand

against the freshly healed wound, trying to mitigate
the jouncing of the carriage. "In a manner of
speaking," he conceded. "Daniel has agreed to have
dinner with me."

"Dinner? Does he have any idea that the two of

you won't be discussing points of law?"

Harrison was hurt by his brother's apparent

unwillingness to accept or even try to understand
his feelings for Daniel Harper. "You still don't
approve of any of this, do you?"

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"Oh no, not at all," replied Todd, airily. "That's

probably why I insisted on accompanying you, isn't
it? Because I don't approve."

Surprised, Harrison glanced over at the dark

profile. "I'm sorry," he said. "I thought I knew your
views."

"You did, at one time - but perhaps they've

changed. Besides, if either one of us should be
saying 'sorry', I believe it should be me."

Harrison shook his head vigorously. "There's no

need. All you did was … "

"All I did, Harry, was accuse you of using your

name and position to get what you wanted from a
man." There was silence except for the clatter of
iron-shod wheels over cobbles. "I knew all along
that you'd never do that, and the only thing I can
say by way of excuse is that I was very worried -
about both of you, I mean, you as well as about
Harper. It's a very difficult situation for you both,
you must admit."

"I do," agreed Harrison softly. "And believe me, I

appreciate your concern. I hope you'll never stop
worrying about me for as long as I live."

Turning his head, meeting the affection in

Harrison's eyes, Todd smiled broadly.

"Oh, I think I can guarantee that, at least," he

answered, with a laugh.

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CHAPTER 19

For the next two weeks Harrison's only contact

with Daniel was by letter. Some of their
correspondence concerned the business and
general matters, some the family, and all of it
helped to lessen his feeling of isolation. He
understood perfectly why Daniel did not choose to
come to the house, and defended him to anyone
who commented on it, but Harrison missed seeing
him more than he had ever imagined possible.

Eventually, however, Dr Crawford gave

permission for him to go out into the world again,
and the first and only thing he wanted to do then
was to see Daniel again. He wrote, therefore,
suggesting that instead of dinner they have lunch
together at the Royal Oak Hotel; he hoped that
somewhere so neutral and understated would put
Daniel at his ease.

Daniel arrived at the hotel before Harrison and

was able to watch him cross the lobby without being
seen himself; his friend was walking well again but
was still very much thinner than he had been before
his illness.

When Daniel stood up Harrison saw him

immediately; as they met his handclasp was firm
and held slightly too long for simple politeness. "I
booked a table for us," he said.

Daniel followed him into the dining-room where

the head waiter approached them. "I have your
table over here, Mr Calderwood."

"Thank you, Paul."

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As they threaded their way between the tables

Harrison received greetings from several diners,
many of whom remarked that they were glad to see
him back among them after such a long absence.
Whilst he was naturally glad to see Harrison among
such good friends, Daniel was also struck by the
conviction that everyone was watching him,
weighing him up, and wondering exactly what he
was doing here. For a few moments the waiter
fussed around them, making sure the table was
perfect, and then he finally left them alone to study
the menu.

Although aware of Harrison watching him,

Daniel was too busy studying his surroundings to
think about food. "I've never been in here before,"
he said.

"It's where I usually bring clients to lunch,"

replied Harrison.

"Then why come here today?" asked Daniel,

feeling that he would have felt far more at home in
a less exalted establishment.

"A special occasion deserves a special setting,"

replied Harrison enigmatically.

"Are you ready to order, sir?" The waiter was

back, moving noiselessly, materialising like a ghost.

Startled, Harrison looked up. "I haven't really

looked at the menu; I'll have fish."

"It's Lemon Sole today, sir," supplied Paul in a

tone of reverence.

"Yes, that sounds excellent, thank you."
"And I'll have the same," decided Daniel. He was

not completely out of his depth with the menu,
which was at least printed in English, but was

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rather too bewildered by his circumstances to be
able to think clearly.

"I'll leave the choice of wine to you, thank you,

Paul."

With a nod of agreement the waiter collected up

the redundant menu cards and left. Momentarily
bereft of conversation after this departure, Harrison
looked across the table at Daniel who smiled. "I was
expecting us to be eating somewhere near the
office," he confessed.

"Well," replied Harrison, "I didn't want to run

into anyone else - especially not anyone who might
try to talk business with me."

"You must know over half the people in here,"

protested Daniel, looking around at their fellow
diners. "And they all seemed pleased to see you," he
added.

"That's true enough, I suppose - but anyone

eating here is not looking for conviviality, or any
more company than they already have."

Daniel looked at him sharply, wondering

precisely what he meant.

"It's just accepted that here you can be private -

almost anonymous - and as many affairs of the
heart as business deals are carried on under this
roof."

Which told him exactly nothing, reflected Daniel

ruefully. Since their last meeting he had thought of
little else, and had succeeded in convincing himself
that Harrison, like him, wanted a closer
relationship, before losing his confidence again and
seeing nothing ahead but disaster. He had arrived
at this meeting with little or no idea what to expect

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and prepared - or so he hoped - for any one of a
dozen possible outcomes, not all of them pleasant.
Yet, when he looked across at Harrison, he rejoiced
at what he saw; this was obviously no business
meeting, and it was a good thing the tables were
spaced well apart or the whole room would have
been as aware as he was of the affection in
Harrison's deep-blue eyes. He decided that it was
time to move the conversation on a little. "You said
this was a special occasion?" he prompted,
breathlessly.

"Yes. I've decided that it's about time I told you

the whole truth." Daniel's startled reaction to this
declaration drew a smile from Harrison. "No,
Daniel, I've never lied to you, I hope - but I have
been lying to myself, and that's a habit I should
probably be doing my best to break myself of - don't
you think?"

Daniel knew another moment of uncertainty. He

understood that Harrison cared for him, but that did
not necessarily mean that he would want anything
more than ordinary friendship from him. In a spirit
of self-protection, he reminded Harrison of his
decision to leave. "You don't have to explain
anything to me, you know. I should tell you, though,
I've recently written to my brother-in-law."

"I think we should simply enjoy our lunch,"

responded Harrison determinedly. "I'm going in to
the office afterwards, so we can talk more on the
way there."

"I can't be late back, though," Daniel reminded

him.

"Well," teased Harrison, "if you are, I promise I

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won't give you notice."

"Mr Mason might; you know how strict he is."

But it was a ridiculous argument and Daniel knew
it well enough.

"Mr Mason takes his orders from me." Harrison

reminded him, before changing the subject. "How is
your leg now?" he asked.

"Much better, thank you, although it aches a bit

sometimes. How are you? How's the recovery
going? You do look better, I must say."

"Better, certainly, but not fully recovered yet,"

admitted Harrison. "Most of the time all I'm aware
of is a dull ache I can ignore, but sometimes it still
hurts like hell."

Happy to be on safer territory in their

conversation, Daniel smiled. "If the pair of us were
horses, you know where we'd be on our way to!"

Harrison laughed at this. "The glue factory? Yes,

I'm afraid so! But I hope we've got a few more miles
of road ahead of us before that day."

Feeling the conversation drifting away from him

again, Daniel concentrated his full attention on
enjoying the Lemon Sole - an expensive delicacy
which had never yet appeared on Mrs Foxley's
modest table.

After lunch, they walked slowly in the direction

of Dale Street and the business quarter, cutting
through the old cemetery close by St George's Hall.

Although the city traffic was only a few yards

away it felt peaceful within the churchyard. There
were no new monuments to be seen; no-one had
been buried there for over forty years. The area

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around the century-old church was well kept, but
beyond that long grass swayed in the breeze.

"Let's sit down for a moment," suggested

Harrison, indicating a bench in a particularly
delightful location under a wild cherry in full
bloom.

The interruption to their progress gave Daniel

reason for misgivings; Harrison had seemed much
stronger over lunch, but he was still a long way
from being the hale and robust man he had been a
few months earlier, and this sudden weakness was
cause for concern. "Are you feeling quite all right?"
he asked.

"Yes, thank you, Daniel; I just want to talk to you

privately, and this seemed like a good enough
place. Sit down, please."

Daniel sat on the bench beside him, but it was a

few seconds after that before Harrison spoke.
"Daniel, your friendship is one of the most
important things in my life, and I really don't want
to lose it." He paused there, seeming to reach for
some inner resource of courage before continuing.
"I never seem to have the words to tell you how I
truly feel."

Daniel took an unsteady breath. So this was the

moment, the one that he had half been hoping for
and half dreading, and now that it had arrived it
seemed that he was not nearly as self-conscious or
embarrassed as he had thought he might be.

"Then

I'll tell you," he said, deciding it was best

to be direct, whatever the likely consequences
might be. "When we're apart, the only thing that
makes life worth living at all is Joseph. When we're

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together … I find I can't say any of the things I want
to say or do any of the things I want to do. That's
why I must go away, Harry; this awful situation is
killing me inside."

Harrison raised a hand, as though to stop him

speaking. "Do you remember meeting Miss Weston
that night you came to dinner?" he said into the
sudden silence.

Thrown off-balance by the abrupt change of

direction, Daniel searched his memory. It had been
a long time ago, but nevertheless he managed to
recall her face to mind. "Yes. Yes, I do remember
her." What he remembered most of all, however, was
her air of confident ownership regarding Harrison.

"Well," continued his friend, slowly, "her brother

James went to France after Wilde was arrested. He
isn't over there studying, as his family would have
everyone believe; he's gone there to avoid the law.
He would have been liable for prosecution if he'd
remained in England, and I'm afraid he would not
have been able to make much of a defence. Now,
James is one of my best friends; I've long been
aware of his preferences, and in fact he's made it
very clear on more than one occasion that he was
attracted to me. I'm fond of him, of course, but I'm
afraid I found it both necessary and desirable to
turn him down."

"Yes, of course," said Daniel, numbly. It was even

worse than he had thought, this cool, gentle,
detailed explanation of why it was quite impossible
… why it would always be impossible …

"You see," said Harrison, "I never felt towards

him one quarter of the feelings that I feel towards

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you."

Astounded, Daniel stared at him. "You do realise

what you're saying, don't you?"

Harrison remained calm, and his gaze remained

level. "I'm telling you the truth," he said. "Nothing
more, and nothing less."

"And if it turns out that I'm not like James? That

I'm not that sort at all?"

"Well, then, I would just have to accept it, and

hope that you were still willing to be my friend now
that you know how I feel."

Daniel scrubbed his hands roughly over his face,

his whole body shaking in reaction. "You bloody
well don't make life easy for yourself, do you,
Harry?" he exclaimed, somewhere between
exasperation and delight.

"I take it that question is rhetorical?" returned

Harrison, mildly.

Daniel ignored the comment, wanting to be

absolutely certain what he was hearing. "Let me get
this clear," he began. "Because it sounded to me
very much as if you want us to have a … " He
hesitated again before putting into words what he
had dreamed of for so long. " … a closer …
relationship … ?" For Heaven's sake, even language
seemed to be conspiring against him now! Was this
even the right way to describe it? How could there
ever be any appropriate words for describing
something that most people wouldn't even dare to
name?

Turning slightly toward Daniel, Harrison held

out his hand. "Yes," was all he said - and really, no
more was needed.

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Daniel took his hand briefly, then released it. "Do

you realise you've put yourself completely in my
power?" he asked, shakily.

Harrison smiled at this. "As a lawyer, I'm bound

to point out that you have no witnesses," he said. "It
would be your word against mine."

"You know better than that," rallied Daniel.

"Unfortunately there are witnesses everywhere -
otherwise I would just kiss you now and be done
with it."

Harrison gave a short laugh of astonishment.

"Good grief, Daniel; I certainly didn't expect you to
be a shrinking violet, but that's a very forward
suggestion!"

Daniel smiled at him, more in love with Harrison

now than ever before. "It still doesn't change the
fact that you and I are not equal, Harry; there's no
possible future for us beyond a few sordid liaisons
in discreet hotel rooms, and I'm afraid I care for you
far too much to be able to settle for that."

"My god, you are a difficult man to convince!"

exclaimed Harrison, shaking his head as though
exasperated. "I'm not talking about some cheap
second-rate affair played out against a background
of guilt and shame; what I want is for us to be
together - and however long it takes, Daniel, that's
how long I'll wait. I don't just want an experience
that could be over in an afternoon; what I'm looking
for is the kind of commitment that lasts a lifetime."

"I don't quite see your family approving of that,

somehow," answered Daniel, shaking his head.

"Well, 'approval' is perhaps too much to hope for,"

conceded Harrison, "but I have to tell you that they

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already know."

"What?

All of them?"

"All except Alex," Harrison admitted. "Todd's

antipathy -" He paused to correct himself, before
continuing. "

Part of Todd's antipathy towards our

friendship, I mean, was because he saw what was
happening and felt you wouldn't be able to refuse
any advances I might make to you. He was afraid
you would feel trapped by your dependent position
as my employee."

Daniel was almost unable to believe what he was

hearing. "Truly," he said, wonderingly, "there are
more things in heaven and on earth, Horatio."

"I agree entirely; in fact it was a very … strange

conversation altogether." Harrison seemed
determined to bring their own conversation back
onto the right track, however. "Please tell me you
won't go to Manchester now that you know this."
And when he noticed Daniel hesitating, he added
another "

Please."

Completely unable to resist the appeal in

Harrison's eyes, Daniel could do nothing but give
way. "Very well," he said, "I won't go to Manchester,
but nevertheless I

will have to look for another job."

"Yes, I think that might be for the best," admitted

Harrison. "It would certainly avoid any appearance
of coercion. In fact I've had some thoughts about it,
but we can talk about that properly this evening."

"This evening?"
"Yes. I thought I would invite myself to dinner

with you and Joseph, and after we've eaten perhaps
you and I can have the rest of this discussion in
peace." He stood up. "We had better go to work; I

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can almost hear Mason pacing the floor from here."

But this time it was Daniel's turn to prolong their

conversation. "Before we go," he said, "I have some
confessions of my own, and I don't think they can
wait."

Smiling indulgently, Harrison sat down again.

"I'm sorry. Do go on."

It was a few seconds, however, before Daniel

could gather the words together. "Before I married
Judith I'd already had several relationships," he
began, and then paused. "With men."

"But you still got married, though?" Harrison's

tone, as well as the look on his face, reflected
puzzlement that a man who was fully aware of his
true nature would see fit to enter into marriage with
a woman.

"Our families expected it," explained Daniel,

"and anyway I loved Judith - we'd known each
other all our lives - but I came to realise that I
wasn't

in love with her." Not for the first time,

Daniel wondered whether he had really done the
right thing in marrying her. "I did my best to make
her happy, though."

"I'm sure you did," acknowledged Harrison. "I

would expect no less. Is that why you never married
again, then? Because you felt you had deceived
her?"

"That, perhaps - and, knowing what I know now,

I couldn't quite bring myself to make such a serious
commitment again."

"Not with a woman, do you mean? Or not with …

anyone?"

"Not with anyone, I used to think - until you

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were stupid enough to get yourself involved in the
strike, and I began to realise that you might be
possibly be the exception to the rule."

"Well, then, thank God I did get involved!"

replied Harrison, laughing. "Although it didn't seem
such a blessing at the time."

"Amen to that," replied Daniel. "But you realise,

don't you, that our feelings in themselves aren't
quite enough? This isn't going to be easy," he
warned. "A lot of people object to intimacy between
men, and we'll lose both friends and respectability if
it becomes known."

"The people closest to us will understand,"

countered Harrison, quietly. "Nobody else needs to
know; we'll just have to be discreet, that's all."

Daniel nodded, content to leave the conversation

there for the moment, and when he did not say
anything further Harrison stood up again. "We
really should be going now," he said. "I don't walk
quite as quickly as I used to." He looked around.
"You do realise we'll be in another churchyard
tomorrow for Isaac Bell's funeral?"

"Yes." Daniel smiled reminiscently. "I remember

when I came to work for you, the first file you gave
me belonged to Mr Bell. He was very patient."

"I knew he would be. Isaac became one of my

clients when I first opened the office, we were
friends for a long time." said Harrison as side by
side, they followed the path between the
gravestones down to the bottom gateway, and back
out into the bustle of the city.

Predictably enough, that evening Joseph was

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overjoyed to see Harrison again after so long, and it
was a very long time after the meal was over before
he could at last be persuaded to go to bed, but
finally they were alone. Daniel poured them a glass
of whisky each and settled into the chair opposite
Harrison, raising his glass. "I'll let you propose the
toast," he said.

"Well, then - to the future. To

our future -

together." Harrison's gaze held Daniel's until he
nodded his agreement.

"The future," he echoed, swallowing.
"Speaking of which, has the Reverend Stillman

made a decision yet about becoming part of the
Central Relief Service?" asked Harrison, brightly,
searching for a subject that would take his mind off
the awkward situation of finally being alone with
Daniel, and only too aware of Joseph across the
landing and Daniel's unresolved status as his
employee; until that was sorted out he could not
countenance any further development of their
relationship.

Daniel stared at him, clearly puzzled by the

unexpected question. "Er, yes; he's decided that
would be the best thing to do."

"And how do you feel about that, Daniel?"
Daniel shook his head. "You know my views on

the CRS," he said. "I can't see there being a place
for me at the shelter for very much longer."

Thoughtfully Harrison took a sip of whisky; this

was an important matter, and one he had to get
right. "For a long time now," he said, "I've wanted to
set up a charitable foundation in my father's name.
While I was recovering from the attack, I had a lot

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of time to consider the options available to people
in need."

"Go on," encouraged Daniel.
"Well, you know my mother is involved with the

orphanage, and so is Alex. When the children leave
there they have a basic education, but - except for
the lucky few - no real prospects. I want to set up
a ... well, I'm not sure quite what to call it, a 'half-
way house', perhaps. At any rate, a place where
they can stay for a couple of years, where they
would have food, shelter, a homely environment
and a small allowance while efforts are made to find
them apprenticeships, training, suitable
employment."

"That's quite a big undertaking you're

considering," returned Daniel, his expression grave.

"Yes, it is - and that's why I'm asking you to take

charge of it for me."

"Oh no, Harry, definitely not! I really don't think

that's a good idea at all, do you?"

Harrison ignored the instant refusal and

continued to make his case, in his most persuasive
tone. "It won't be an easy matter finding and
maintaining premises, supervising staff, searching
for work opportunities, managing all the finances.
I'm not offering you a sinecure, Daniel. This is no
paid post simply to keep you near me." There was
no response to these words, so Harrison continued
after a pause. "Think how much it would mean to
those children; I plan to set up the endowment for
the Foundation and then step back; I don't have
either the time or the experience to do what you
could do, and I will still have my own business to

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take care of." There was still no response when he
paused again, and so he went on further. "I want
you to take the post, to head the Board of Trustees,
and to see that everything is done properly."

Daniel sighed deeply. "Don't you see, though, I

would still be - effectively - employed by you?"

"No, I intend to make sure that will not be the

case; the only authority you would be answerable to
at all is the Board itself. I'm going to do this, Daniel,
whether you're involved or not; it means a great
deal to me. I do want you to be in charge of the
Foundation, but if you refuse I'll just have to look
for someone else."

Daniel sighed deeply, his resolve apparently

weakening - as Harrison had known it would, when
all his objections had been countered and all that
remained was his perfectly natural distrust of the
unknown. "I'll need some time to think about it," he
said. "You may have far more faith in my ability
than is fully justified by the facts."

"Well, I don't think so." Harrison finished off his

drink and stood up. "I'd better be going, I'm afraid."

"Harry?"
It took all of Harrison's willpower not to step

forward then, to initiate an embrace, to taste that
longed-for kiss, but he reminded himself very firmly
that Daniel was still his employee and as such it
could most emphatically be described as coercion;
instead he asked, "Please think about accepting the
post, I really don't want to have to look for someone
else."

"I will think about it," Daniel promised.

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A few minutes later, Daniel walked him down to

the front door and watched for a few moments as he
walked towards the carriage-rank at the corner of
the street and hailed a cab to take him up the hill.
Closing the door, he leant against it heavily, quite
astonished that he had somehow managed to let
Harrison leave without pleading with him to stay
just a little longer. It was an absurd situation; they
had confessed their feelings for one another, and
yet they were as far apart now as they had ever
been - and would remain so, he sensed, as long as
he was still working for Harrison as his employee.

In an attempt to control the tumult of emotions,

he began to give some serious thought to Harrison's
plan for the new charitable Foundation, what it
could achieve, and the possibility of there being a
place in it for himself. He had given the idea short
shrift at first, but there was no denying it that it
would solve a great many problems - not only for
themselves, but for others - and perhaps he had
been wrong to dismiss it quite so quickly, without
giving the matter greater consideration than he
had.

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CHAPTER 20

The following morning Harrison and Daniel

were aboard the ferry for Eastham; they leaned
comfortably against the rail to watch the water slide
past the boat, able to feel the regular thump of the
paddle wheel through the decking. The woodlands
on the Wirral coastline of the river slowly became
clearer as they approached.

Daniel turned his face to the sun. "It's too

beautiful a day to be going to a funeral," he said.

"Perhaps Isaac arranged it that way," was

Harrison's easy response.

"I wouldn't be surprised; he was a managing old

codger, wasn't he?" said Daniel fondly.

Harrison smiled. "Yes, he was, but you should

probably keep that thought to yourself."

The river spread out around them, far wider than

its span between Liverpool and Birkenhead. There
wasn't so much commercial traffic up here, and the
wooded shores opposite and the low Cheshire hills
to the south were a world away from the city; it was
almost like being on a day trip for pleasure rather
than business.

The steamer docked at Eastham and was tied up

to the stone jetty, whereupon the passengers
hurried off the ship, most of them heading towards
the Ferry Hotel and its pleasure gardens. Harrison
and Daniel engaged a cab to take them up the hill
and into the main part of the village; the road was
bordered by hedgerows, with the billows of white
blossom at their feet looking like foam blown up
from the river, and as the road wound upwards the

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river came briefly back into sight across the fields.

The village was like something from a storybook.

They passed red-brick houses with thatched roofs,
white-washed cottages, sandstone walls, gardens
full of yellow-flowered Forsythia and endless
fluttering daffodils, before the cab came to a halt at
the lych-gate of the church, Harrison paid the
driver and they went together into the churchyard.
Beside the path, gravestones almost two hundred
years old were settled deep in the earth with
primroses clustered around them. There were
numerous table graves, their inscriptions
unreadable under generations of lichen and
cushions of moss, and older still than all of these
was a massive yew tree with a notice on the fence
around it proclaiming it to be at least eight hundred
years old.

The church-door was already open so Harrison

went inside to see if anyone else had arrived. The
only people he could see were an elderly man
putting out hymn books at the ends of the pews and
two ladies discussing a flower arrangement near
the pulpit; several people were sitting quietly at the
back of the church.

He went back outside into the sunshine and sat

on a bench at the side of the main door. "We're a
little too early," he said.

"Well, that's better than being a little too late,"

offered Daniel, going to sit beside him.

Around them the peace and quiet was broken

only by the sound of livestock from a nearby
farmyard.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before

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Daniel said, "I thought about what you said last
night."

"Good. And have you come to a decision?"
"Yes, I have. I'm not at all sure it's the right one

to make, but I would like to accept your offer -
albeit on one condition."

Much encouraged, Harrison turned towards

him. "Yes? What condition is that?"

"I would like Mrs Calderwood to be one of the

Trustees, if she's willing."

"If I know my mother," said Harrison, "I'm sure

she'd be very pleased to be asked."

"No doubt," replied Daniel, recognising a

diplomatic answer when he saw one. "But will she
accept?"

Harrison smiled. "If that is the cost of you taking

up the post of Director, I'm afraid I won't give her
very much choice."

Daniel sighed contentedly. This was a beautiful

day, he was in a beautiful place, and best of all he
was sharing it with Harrison.

"They're here." Harrison stood up and waited at

the side of the porch for the cortège to make its slow
way along the path towards them.

After the service and the interment, Harrison

and Daniel accompanied the family back to the
house where a cold buffet had been set up for the
returning mourners, and they were invited to have
something to eat before the reading of Mr Bell's
Will. The only person present whom either had
been previously acquainted with had been the
deceased himself, and not even Harrison had met

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any of the other members of the family, so it came
as something of a relief when the widow, a small
dumpy woman in steel-rimmed spectacles,
announced that she was at last ready to attend to
business. The Will itself was a simple matter with
no surprises and no protests; there were a few small
bequests to relatives, servants and business
colleagues; the marital home together with an
annuity was left to the widow; after all the funeral
and legal expenses had been disbursed the
remainder of the capital was to be divided between
the two sons of the marriage.

"I'd like to thank you for your attendance," Mrs

Bell said, distantly, as they were preparing to take
their departure afterwards.

Harrison accepted her outstretched hand. "I

knew your husband for many years, Mrs Bell; he
was one of my very first clients, and always an
agreeable man to deal with. He will be sadly
missed."

She nodded. "Thank you. I shall of course need

to make a new Will of my own now, but I'm afraid I
will not be using your services to do so, Mr
Calderwood."

Harrison's eyebrow raised only the merest

fraction in response to this declaration. "Indeed?
May I enquire as to the reason for your decision?"

Mrs Bell's mouth tightened. "It's merely that your

office is too far away for me to travel to; my
husband was frequently in Liverpool on business,
but I am not. I shall retain a local man to act for me
in future."

Harrison bowed slightly. "Of course, I

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understand completely. However if you happen to
discover at any time that there is anything else I
can do to assist you, I and my firm will be quite at
your disposal."

This offer was received with punctilious

politeness but a total absence of warmth, and
shortly afterwards when their formal farewells over
it was a positive relief to be out in the sunshine
once more.

"Shall we walk back to the ferry from here?"

asked Daniel, making no secret of his gratitude to
be emerging from a darkened house of mourning
into life-giving fresh air and daylight. "If you think
it won't be too much for you, I mean."

"I think I can manage," replied Harrison. "It's

downhill all the way, after all, and I think the walk
would do me good. In fact, while we're here, we
might do a great deal worse than take a look around
the gardens."

"Really? I thought you would be in a hurry to get

back to the office?"

But Harrison only shook his head and smile.

"No, not today. Today, I think we should both have a
day off. After all, I think we've earned it - don't
you?"

They were at the Eastham Ferry Hotel in little

over half an hour, and threepence each gave them
admittance to the terraces and gardens at the back
of the hotel where, considering that this was a
working day, a surprisingly large number of people
were strolling about admiring the flower beds,
drinking tea and eating cake at the café, or gazing

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at the variety of animals kept for the amusement of
the public.

Harrison and Daniel were obliged to stand to

one side as a cage was wheeled past, the
imprisoned lion within roaring its displeasure to the
crowd, and further on there were zebras and camels
in enclosures, looking well cared-for and content.

They wandered aimlessly through the grounds;

stone steps led them to an upper terrace, where
fountains sparkled in the sunlight, and from there
the path continued into the woodland and the
cooler air beneath the trees.

Ahead of them was a dome made of iron railings,

which was surrounded by spectators, and as they
got closer it became clear that it covered the bear-
pit. Harrison felt a pang of pity as he looked down
towards the two brown bears it held; one was
circling mindlessly round and round the enclosure,
the other pressed back into what appeared to be a
passageway out of the pit. Onlookers were shouting
at to the bears, and occasionally throwing pebbles
and sticks at them to see their reaction; those of a
kinder nature threw sweets or cakes but the bears
largely ignored them.

Harrison turned away. "I had thought that

perhaps Joseph might like to come here, but on
reflection I don't think I would want to bring him. I
think he would be very upset to see those poor
bears treated like that."

Daniel walked beside him. "Cages are hateful,"

he said, "wherever they are, and whatever is in
them. Poverty is a cage, and so are ignorance and
fear." He sighed. "And sometimes we make cages of

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our own."

"I know," was the rueful response. "This really

wasn't a very good idea, was it? In fact, Isaac's
funeral was more fun; at least he had a good life,
and people will miss him now that he's gone."

"Well, at any rate, I think I've seen enough

imprisoned animals for one day," returned Daniel.
"Shall we have dinner at the hotel before we catch
the ferry back?"

"Yes, why not? There's no real reason to hurry."

They had reached the flower gardens again, and
here Harrison paused. "I wonder how Joseph is
getting on with my mother?" he speculated, smiling.

"Having a wonderful time, no doubt. He really

loves her, doesn't he?"

"Oh, I can assure you, it's mutual; which is

another good reason for not going to Manchester, of
course."

"I did have a very good reason

for going," Daniel

reminded him, teasingly.

Harrison's answering glance was full of apology,

affection and discreet promise. "But now you don't
have to," he said quietly. "Do you?" Leaving the
gardens they entered the hotel, where the dining-
room commanded a sweeping view of the river and
the pier where the ferry was currently taking on
passengers. It was easy enough to linger there,
watching the comings-and-goings of the travellers
and the sparkle of sunlight on the water. The food
was good and they took their time over it, happy in
each other's company, unwilling for the day to end.
Eventually, to enjoy the very last of the sunshine,
they took their brandy and cigars out onto the

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veranda, watching the light fading from the sky.
Soon, however, the warmth of the day had faded
too, and the cold breeze from the river was cutting
through their clothing.

"Time to leave," decided Harrison regretfully.
They looked down to the jetty and out across the

river, expecting to see the ferry boat on its way
back, but there was no sign of it; it was beginning
to look as if they might be in for quite a long wait
before the next one. "I suggest we go inside," said
Daniel, "where it's warmer. I wouldn't want you to
run the risk of taking a chill."

The landlady, busy sorting glasses behind the

bar, looked surprised to see them as they re-entered
the premises. "Can I help you, gentlemen?" she
asked.

"You can if you can tell us the time of the next

ferry," said Daniel, with a pleasant smile.

"Ah. That would be tomorrow morning, sir, I'm

afraid."

"

Tomorrow?" This reply was so completely

unexpected that Daniel could not quite help
repeating it.

"Yes, sir, tomorrow. Summer timetable isn't on

yet, sir; the last boat left a couple of hours ago."

"I see. Thank you." Daniel turned to look at

Harrison. "Well, I suppose it can't be helped. We can
walk back up into the village and on as far as
Hooton and wait for a train there, if you like, or
alternatively we can stay here for the night and take
the first ferry across tomorrow morning."

Harrison sighed. "I'm rather too tired to walk all

the way to Hooton," he confessed, "and the road will

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be very dark. I think we had probably better stay.
Does she have a room - rooms - available?"

Daniel smiled. "I'm sure she does." He went to

speak to the landlady. "I think we'd like to stay," he
said. "Can you let us have two single rooms for the
night?"

Almost before he had finished speaking,

however, the landlady was shaking her head. "No,
sir, I'm sorry, I can't. There's a big party coming in
later, regulars of ours - a whole cricket team, over
here to play a match tomorrow."

"Have you nothing at all? Or is there anywhere

else in the village that offers rooms?"

The landlady looked across doubtfully at

Harrison. "There's a double, sir, right at the top of
the house, if the gentleman wouldn't mind sharing."

"Ah, of course. Well, I'll see what he says. I do

know that he's anxious not to walk very much
further this evening; he's been rather ill." But even
as he was speaking, the sheer inescapable
inevitability of it all was borne in upon Daniel. After
all that they had said to one another, and all the
confessions and promises that they had made, this
one subject had never yet been aired between them;
it had been there but it had not been there, present
yet ignored.

For the sake of appearances he went over to

consult Harrison on the question of sharing a room,
and then returned to the landlady to accept the key
and directions.

"Up these stairs here, sir, turn right, and up the

other stairs at the end of the landing, and you'll see
your room right ahead of you. "Will you be requiring

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anything else, sir, before you retire for the night?"

"Thank you. Would you please send up a bottle

of brandy and two glasses?"

"Yes, sir," said the landlady, and it was just as

simple as that. She gave no indication what she
thought of them, if anything, or whether she had
any suspicion regarding their intentions; if she had,
she kept them to herself - and, thought Daniel,
wryly, as he followed Harrison up the stairs towards
their bedroom, he supposed their money would be
just as good to her as anybody else's.

The room was on the top floor with a view of the

river, and in the distance the lights of Liverpool
shone ever brighter as darkness closed in.

Daniel lit the gas lights before closing the

curtains and looking around. It was a small room,
the only furniture being a double bed and a
dressing-table, and there was a built-in cupboard-
wardrobe next to the fireplace. They had scarcely
got their bearings when there was a knock at the
door, which Harrison opened to admit a young boy
carrying a tray.

"Your brandy, sir," he said, gravely.
"Thank you." Standing aside, Harrison watched

the youth put the tray down on the dressing-table,
handed him a generous tip, and went on to make
sure that the door was securely fastened after he
had left.

Daniel, watching him from the other side of the

room, felt that he couldn't bear another single
minute of uncertainty. He was aware that he was
risking both his future and their friendship as he

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took a step towards Harrison, but stopped at the
foot of the bed and found that he could go no
further.

"Daniel? Is everything all right?"
The quiet voice in the still room made Daniel's

heart thud alarmingly. He gathered his courage to
move closer, placing his hands on Harrison's
shoulders, pulling him forward slightly, and in
answer to the question in the blue eyes he bent his
head, covering Harrison's mouth with his own in a
kiss that perfectly encapsulated all the unavailing
longing of the past few months.

Harrison's hands settled comfortably on Daniel's

waist, and he took an unsteady breath as they
parted, leaning in again to the support of the arms
that still held him. That was when Daniel knew for
the first time with any certainty that this was really
going to be all right, that there was no out-of-hand
rejection waiting for him, that they understood one
another now once and for all,

"I've wanted to do that for so long," he admitted

quietly, his voice roughened, the beautiful truth that
Harrison had not repulsed him surging through his
blood.

"I think I have too, but I didn't always know it."

Harrison initiated another kiss then, and the moist
warmth of his lips was a sensation Daniel knew he
could never tire of.

"You are quite a surprise," he said softly. He had

dreamed and anticipated many things but the
reality was far better than imagination had been.
"But you're shaking, Harry; are you afraid of
something?"

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"I don't know," admitted Harrison. "Perhaps … a

little."

Which, thought Daniel, was no more than

perfectly reasonable in the circumstances. In view
of the late scandals of both Wilde and the Cleveland
Street boys, there wasn't a man in England who
could approach an occasion like this without
knowing at least a momentary frisson of fear -
certainly not if he had any degree of sensitivity, at
least.

"Yes," he said, softly. "Me too … a little. Let's sit

down and drink some of that brandy, shall we?"

The bang of a door being thrown open

somewhere nearby was immediately followed by
hearty voices and heavy, hurried footsteps - the
expected cricket team had arrived, loudly, the noise
they were making providing a reassuring backdrop
to their own small drama. Daniel's hands were not
quite as steady as usual as he poured out the two
glasses of brandy. Handing one to Harrison, he sat
down beside him, shoulder to shoulder. "To us," he
toasted bravely.

Harrison raised his own glass in reply. "To us,"

he answered, his voice little more than a whisper.

Daniel could sense a change in the atmosphere

in the room, a deepening of intensity. He swallowed
a gulp of brandy with little regard for its quality or
lack thereof, and if there was a flavour at all he was
completely oblivious to it.

"Harry?" he asked, nervously, hearing his own

heart thudding in his chest.

"I just need a moment, Daniel; forgive me."
"Of course." Fighting arousal, Daniel wanted to

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touch Harrison, to re-assure him, but did not dare
to risk doing anything that might drive a separation
between them. He would take no further step until
he was sure it would be welcome, would handle
everything from now on with the most delicate
sensitivity, would respect every doubt and
misgiving and never try to persuade Harrison into
anything he was not completely ready for; it was
clear to him that neither of them had very much
idea of what they were doing, or what was possible,
and he'd never in his life experienced this kind of
uncertainty, this inability to take control of the
situation.

Harrison swallowed the remainder of his brandy.

"I'm sorry, Daniel, it wasn't anything you did. Todd
told me once that I'd learnt nothing about real life
while I was at university," he continued, unevenly.
"I didn't understand what he meant at the time, but
in a way I believe he was quite right." He turned, to
be able to look more closely at Daniel. "All this is …"
And here words failed him.

"Unfamiliar?" suggested Daniel, helpfully.
"Yes, that's it exactly. Not unwelcome, not at all,

but - well, I must confess, Daniel, I'm feeling rather
… lost."

Daniel took the empty glass from Harrison's

hand and placed it back on the dressing-table. It
was obvious to him that, as the slightly more
experienced of the two, he was going to have to
take the lead in this. He stood up, drawing Harrison
to his feet, sliding his hands under the dark jacket
to gently pull him closer.

"All you need is time to get used to the idea," he

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told him gently, closing in for another tender kiss.

Harrison did not resist him, and in fact

responded with enthusiasm. "I haven't said yet how
much I love you," he whispered as they drew apart.

"Yes, you have," replied Daniel. "You've been

telling me that all evening; it's what gave me the
courage to risk everything for this." They stood
close together for a moment, simply learning how to
be this way, but it was not long before a more
urgent form of desire began to make its presence
felt between them. "I think we could make very
good use of this bed, don't you?" he suggested,
eventually releasing Harrison from the embrace.

"Well, we have paid for it," was the wry response.

Methodically Harrison retrieved his pocket-watch
and placed it carefully on the dressing-table,
adding cuff links and collar studs in turn, his
movements calm and completely unhurried.

"Here." Daniel slipped the jacket from Harrison's

shoulders, then began to unfasten the buttons of his
waistcoat, alternating with light kisses along
Harrison's jaw line. "I'll take care of everything," he
promised, his kiss gentle but insistent. "Leave it all
to me."

"Not quite everything," responded Harrison,

loosening the black tie Daniel had worn for the
funeral.

Daniel stood still, quietly allowing Harrison to

solve for himself the mysteries of another man's
buttons and buckles, shivering slightly as Harrison
slid the linen shirt away from his shoulders, but the
chill of the night air against his skin was
immediately replaced by the warmth of Harrison's

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hands. Recollecting sadly how very many nights in
the past he had dreamed of this happening, Daniel
could hardly believe that everything he had wanted
for so long was now right here before him; Harrison
Calderwood, no longer unobtainable and
untouchable and so far from him in status that he
might as well have been on the moon, in his arms
and hopefully his future.

The gaslight diffused a soft golden glow

throughout the room; patterns formed against the
wall; separate shadows moved, became closer,
merged into one, and clothes lay forgotten where
they fell. Daniel slid into bed opposite Harrison,
wriggled closer to draw him into his embrace; this
was where he wanted to be, where he needed to be,
and the world could go to Hell. Gentle but sure,
confident of the pleasure he was giving, Daniel
welcomed Harrison's response and, encouraged by
it, began a tentative exploration with fingers, lips
and tongue that aroused him as much as it did his
partner.

Time ceased to exist, other people did not exist;

their world spiralled down to a touch, an
endearment, the whispered intimacy of a breath,
caresses offered and accepted, a unity and
wholeness that blotted out everything and
everybody else; nothing existed for them but each
other and the quiet power of surrender.

The gaslight burned on, long into the night, and

still they did not sleep.

The following morning, Daniel heard the rustle

of bedclothes and turned from the window, still

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fastening his shirt. "Thought you were asleep," he
said, gently. Whatever had passed between them in
the night, the morning was bound to offer
something of a contrast.

"Maybe I am," said Harrison, sounding a little

dizzy and off-balance.

Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers

unable to resist threading themselves through
Harrison's tousled hair. He leaned forward to kiss
the warm lips, delighted by Harrison's response.

"Do you still think you're asleep?" he asked,

mischievously, as they broke apart.

"Well," responded Harrison, "if I am, then I never

want to wake up."

"What,

never?" teased Daniel.

"Never," confirmed Harrison, pulling him closer

to return the kiss.

It was some time after that before Daniel could

escape from his grasp and stand up to continue
getting dressed. They really should be getting down
to breakfast soon or their absence would cause
comment and suspicion would turn to certainty,
with all the attendant embarrassment that would
inevitably follow. He was also, if he was honest with
himself, more than a little overwhelmed by the
totality of Harrison's commitment to him, and
worried that it was all just a little too good to last
long.

"Daniel?" He turned to see Harrison sitting up in

bed, the sheet fallen around his waist, his
expression serious. "You know I love you."

"I do know," acknowledged Daniel. He sat down

on the bed and took Harrison's hand, unsure what

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to say.

"Then what's wrong? Isn't this supposed to be …"

Abruptly Harrison abandoned whatever he had
begun to say, and started again in a different place.
"When I first realised I loved you, Daniel, I already
knew that it didn't matter what you did, or whether
or not I ever told you how I felt." He paused, "If we
had never arrived at this point in our lives, I would
still love you as much as I do now."

Daniel gave him a wry half smile. "I do

understand that, Harry; it's just that … happy
endings take quite a lot of getting used to."

"Of course. But you understand that this isn't a

trap, don't you? I won't make outrageous demands
on you, and I don't expect …"

"Ssh." Daniel placed a finger over Harrison's lips

to silence him. "I want this as much as you do,
Harry. It just … it scares me a bit. That's all. Not the
physical side, but the … the sheer scale of it, I
suppose. This is a major undertaking, and it will
alter both our lives forever; that's what's worrying
me at the moment, just a little."

"Me, too," confessed Harrison, seriously. "But I

wouldn't want to change it, now that I know how it
can be. Supposing we just take everything one day
at a time, and solve our problems one by one?"

"Yes," decided Daniel, adding a kiss to the

statement before standing up. "I think I can cope
with that. And, although I hate to belabour the
obvious, I am up and dressed already and you're
still languishing in bed, and that in itself is almost
enough to get us a reputation that I suspect we'd
rather not have - no matter how true it might be. I'll

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go down and order breakfast and I'll wait for you in
the dining-room," he concluded, tearing himself
away with an air of massive reluctance. "Don't be
long, Harry; I seem to have worked up quite an
appetite somehow."

As the door closed behind Daniel Harrison lay

back against the tumbled pillows, lost in thought.
He had hoped that being together away from the
city might help their relationship along, but this
was more than he had dared to dream of. He could
still feel the touch of Daniel's lips and hands
tingling everywhere about his body; the last thing
he wanted to do just at the moment was get out of
bed, go to breakfast and thereby acknowledge that
there must be an end to their idyll - at least for now
- but he knew now that there would be other nights,
very many other nights, and that this, wonderful as
it had been, was only the beginning. Happy with
that thought he threw back the bed-clothes
confidently, and began to get ready to follow Daniel
downstairs.

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EPILOGUE

It was less than three months later that Joseph

picked up the deckle-edged card and ran his
fingers over the silver decoration and embossed
letters that invited Mr Harper and his son to the
wedding of Miss Caroline Seward to Mr Todd
Calderwood on the last Saturday in June.

"I've never had a wedding invitation before," he

said, enthusiastically.

"It's been a long time since I received one

myself," replied his father.

Joseph looked up. "Why would Mr Calderwood

invite you and me to his wedding, though?" he
asked, bemused.

Daniel could not help smiling at the uncertainty

in Joseph's voice. "Strictly speaking, it's Mr Seward
who's invited us - you see, it's his name on the first
line - but Mr Calderwood must have been the one
who put our names forward."

"Because of Harrison, do you mean?"
"Yes, I would think so."
If Daniel was being strictly honest with himself,

he was almost as surprised by the invitation as
Joseph had been, and it was certainly something he
couldn't have expected, even six months ago. Todd
Calderwood's attitude, however, had begun to
change after the attack on Harrison; it had become
more conciliatory still with the setting up of the
Andrew Calderwood Foundation, but even so the
wedding invitation had come completely out of the
blue and he suspected that in fact Elizabeth had
been the one to suggest that they should be

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included among the guests.

He glanced at the clock. "You'd better go and get

changed, we have to leave in an hour."

Joseph did not need telling twice; Elizabeth had

taken him to buy a new suit for the wedding, and he
was trying very hard not to show how excited he
was by the whole affair, and how very grown-up the
invitation had made him feel.

Following his own advice, Daniel went to dress;

his dark frock-coat was suitably fashionable for a
society wedding, the rise in his salary when he took
on the Directorship having made a tremendous
difference to his and Joseph's life. One thing that
hadn't changed, however, was their address; they
were comfortable where they were, and fortunately
Mrs Foxley had been very understanding about
Harrison arriving and leaving at the most peculiar
times. It had sometimes been very late indeed when
Harrison had left the house, and last night - he
remembered it with particular pleasure - had been
no exception. Sighing, he brought his attention
back to the present and began to get ready,
reminding himself that as soon as the wedding was
over and life had settled down again he would have
to begin another search for a suite of offices for the
Foundation. Up until now he had been able to make
enquiries and deal with correspondence using
Harrison's office address, but he was aware that it
wasn't ideal and he must really make more of an
effort to put it right.

"Damn," he said aloud. In allowing his attention

to wander he had made a complete muddle of his
cravat and now stolidly began to retie it,

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determined this time to keep his mind on what he
was doing. He could worry about the Foundation
another day, he told himself; today, they had a
wedding to attend - and he was looking forward to
seeing Harrison dressed up for the occasion as
groomsman to Todd. Also Alex was to be one of the
bridesmaids, and the details of her dress had been
just as big a secret as Caroline's choice.

"Is this all right?" asked Joseph from the

doorway.

"Perfect!" Daniel tweaked his son's tie to

straighten it, but in all conscience Joe had made a
far better job of dressing himself tidily than his
father had. "Now, go down and ask Mrs Foxley to
send Tom to the carriage-rank, will you?"

"All right. Do I have to come back up here

afterwards, or can I stay downstairs and talk to
Orlando?"

Daniel could not help laughing. "You may talk to

the parrot if Mrs Foxley doesn't mind - and
provided you don't get yourself dirty before we have
to go out. Now, off you go - I'll be there in a
minute."

The church was already half-full by the time

Daniel and Joseph arrived. Todd was sitting in the
front pew with Harrison next to him, and Elizabeth
in the pew behind with a couple Daniel did not
recognise but presumed to be her cousins the
Jessops.

They were ushered to their seats on the groom's

side, with Joseph sitting at the aisle end of a row,
from where he could gaze his fill at the posies of

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pink carnations and fern attached to the pew-ends
by lengths of white satin ribbon. More carnations
and ferns decorated the sanctuary, together with
roses in every imaginable shade of pink.

Harrison, turning around to see how many

people had arrived, caught sight of Daniel and
Joseph and smiled at them before he once again
returned his attention to Todd, but that one small
nod of recognition was enough to set Daniel's heart
beating just a little faster. He wondered if he would
he ever get used to the fact that the handsome man
in the perfectly-tailored charcoal-grey frock-coat
was actually in love with him - and as pledged to
him, in their own secretive way, as Todd and
Caroline would soon be to one another. Although
this was not perhaps the ideal place for such a
recollection, he could not help enjoying again a
memory from the previous night; Harrison, flushed
and dishevelled, his blue eyes full of laughter,
pretending to resist Daniel's attentions in the
bedroom. He had forgotten - if, indeed, he had ever
known - that it was possible to be so absolutely
happy.

The sound of the Wedding March, fortunately,

brought him back to earth just in time to return the
smile Caroline gave them as she passed, her dark
hair swept up and secured by a coronet of crystal
and orange-blossom, her gown trimmed with
Brussels lace and seed pearls flowing into a train;
that, and a veil of the same length, being managed
by two small page-boys.

Alex followed her dressed in pale green silk, but

not looking up; her whole attention was taken up by

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the very small flower girl who walked beside her.
Daniel could not recall the little girl's name but
remembered Alex telling them about the grand-
daughter of Mrs Seward's cousin, and how sweet
she looked in her dress. As the service proceeded
Daniel could hear the young couple vowing their
fidelity, pledging love, honour and support for as
long as they both should live.

These were all the things that he and Harrison

felt for each other, too, but had no way of displaying
outside the limited context of the family - and, while
he understood completely from an intellectual point
of view why this must be so, there was still a little
voice within him that could not resist a muted cry of
protest. His love for Harrison, and Harrison's love
for him, were as true and honest and faithful as any
other forms of love, and in his heart of hearts he
wished they had the right to declare it before the
world just as publicly as Caroline and Todd.

However, making a supreme effort, he managed

to banish envy altogether, and instead concentrated
his thoughts on the future happiness of the bride
and groom, and when the ceremony was over he
was rewarded the sight of Harrison escorting Alex
out of the church and winking outrageously at
Joseph as he passed.

The pro-cathedral of St Peter's in the centre of

the city was not a beautiful building; because of this
the photographer had set up on the lawn at the side
of the church and was busy organising his subjects
in front of the ivy that disguised the brick walls.
Daniel managed to stay well back out of sight and

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avoided being included in any but the largest
groups, but Joseph was chivvied to the front by
well-meaning matrons and ended up holding the
hand of the youngest bridesmaid.

When the photographer was finally satisfied with

his efforts everyone was released to make their way
to the reception. Harrison found his mother talking
to her cousin Henry Jessop and his wife, but
managed to separate them and take her to their
coach; Daniel and Joseph were already standing
beside the brougham, and he knew Alex had
arranged to travel with Stephen and his parents to
the hotel.

"So, what did you think of it?" Harrison asked

Joseph when they were settled, waiting for the
vehicle of them to leave.

"I thought Miss Seward looked very beautiful,

but not quite as pretty as Miss Alexandra," the boy
informed him staunchly.

Harrison could not help chuckling at such

partisan support. "She would be glad to know you
thought so," he said, "but perhaps you'd better not
mention it to anyone else; a bride is always
supposed to be the most beautiful woman at her
own wedding."

"Mr Calderwood? Sir?"
Startled, Harrison looked out of the coach

window to see who was calling his name, to
discover Mr Crossley fighting his way through the
crowd in an obvious endeavour to reach their coach
before it moved off.

Crossley caught hold of the door handle. "I didn't

think I would catch you," he gasped. "I need to

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speak to Mr Harper."

"You were at the wedding?" asked Harrison. "I

didn't see you."

"Yes, I was sitting right at the back." He nodded

to Elizabeth. "Good day, ma'am; I apologise for
intruding, but it's an important matter of
Foundation business and I hope you will forgive
me."

"Can it not wait until tomorrow?" asked Daniel,

casting an anxious glance towards Elizabeth.

Crossley shook his head. Noticing Daniel's

indecision, Harrison took charge of the situation.
"Joe, come and sit over here; we three can squeeze
in together and Mr Crossley can have your seat
next to Mother."

"Oh, I couldn't," protested Crossley, clearly

mortified to have been the cause of such disruption
to their arrangements.

"You'll have to, I'm afraid." Harrison pushed open

the door, reached down to take the other man's
hand and pull him up into the carriage.

"Ready, sir?" asked their driver as the coach

ahead set off.

"Yes, thank you, we can go now."
Harrison settled back into his seat, and in a few

moments they were on their way to the hotel where
the wedding breakfast was to be held - a stately
progress, to allow a small gathering of onlookers to
view the bridal party in all the detail they could
possibly desire.

"What is it that's so important it has to be dealt

with today?" asked Daniel, his tone uncomfortable.

"Well, Mr Harper," Crossley took a deep breath,

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"I think I've found us a suitable property."

They were all immediately interested enough to

forgive the intrusion.

"Where is it situated, Mr Crossley?" asked

Elizabeth keenly.

"Rodney Street, it's the large building on the

corner of Mount Pleasant. It won't be on the open
market until Monday, so if we can get our offer in
before then it could be ours right away."

"We've been looking a very long time," objected

Daniel, not eager to be hurried into making a
decision that might not turn out well.

"I understand that, sir, but this is perfect; it has

just the right address, is large enough to provide
offices for the Foundation on the ground floor, and it
has commodious residential accommodation on the
upper two floors. Rent from the apartments would
help to defray the costs of running the office. It's too
good an opportunity to miss," Crossly concluded
urgently.

"You're absolutely sure of this?" Elizabeth asked.

Crossley was one of her fellow Trustees, and his
judgement had proved to be very sound in the past.

"Yes, Mrs Calderwood, quite sure."
She sat back determinedly in her seat. "Well,

you'll just have to come to the reception with us,
and we can talk about it there."

Crossley was clearly horrified by the very notion.

"I can't possibly do that, ma'am," he protested.

Elizabeth, however, was quite unmoved. "I'm

afraid you'll have to; Harrison will arrange for you
to sit at the same table as Mr Harper and his son."

Her tone made it perfectly clear that argument

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would not help him, so Crossley nodded his
reluctant agreement. "Thank you, ma'am - although
I'm a little worried about what Mr Calderwood
might have to say when he sees me there without
an invitation," he confessed, meekly.

"Don't worry about Todd," Harrison assured him.

"He'll be much too happy and much too busy to
notice one more guest at the party."

Elizabeth nodded. "We won't discuss anything

properly until after the speeches," she said, "but
then there will be plenty of time to consider your
idea, Mr Crossley."

People had been surprised when the Sewards

decided to have their only daughter's wedding
reception at a hotel - instead of at their large
Georgian house overlooking the river. Stephen's
explanation to the Calderwoods had been that his
father, who had part-ownership in the hotel, had
invited so many business acquaintances that they
would not all fit into the house.

When they arrived at the hotel, Harrison spoke

to the Head Waiter and explained that they had
brought an extra guest with them, and there was no
fuss or bother made about accommodating him -
apart from a slight look of surprise on Todd's face
when he found himself welcoming Mr Crossley into
the hotel dining-room, but was unable to ask him
any questions at the time.

It was all a revelation to Joseph; the table

decorations, the flowers around the room and, most
impressive of all, the three-tier wedding cake
completely obscuring his view of Caroline.

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"Why can't Aunt Elizabeth sit with us?" he asked,

as they took their places.

Daniel was grateful for the distraction; there

were so many questions he wanted to ask Crossley
about the proposed property, but he would abide by
Elizabeth's decision not to do anything more about
it until after the reception was over.

"Dad?" insisted Joseph, impatient for an answer.
Returning his attention to his son, Daniel did his

best to supply him with an answer. "It's because
she's Todd's mother, so she sits at the top table with
him and Caroline; like Mr and Mrs Seward, there
on the other side."

Joseph checked along the top table. "But

Stephen isn't there," he said.

"No, he's not; in this case, brothers don't count -

but Harrison is there because he was Todd's best
man."

"And Alex is because she was with Caroline."
"That's right. She's the chief bridesmaid."
His curiosity satisfied, Joseph contented himself

with watching the other guests - and Daniel also
looked idly around the room. He had never
expected to be part of a gathering like this again.
His home life growing up had not been too different
to Harrison's, comfortable and secure, with his
future mapped out to include university and a
career in the law, but his father's death - followed by
the realisation that there was no money, only debts
and a mortgage on their estate - had ended that life.
Being forced to leave her home and rely on the
charity of relatives had broken his mother's health
irrevocably, and she had been dead within six

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months of her husband. That was when Daniel had
embarked on a completely new life; sufficiently
educated to obtain a position in a Solicitor's office
he had worked hard to establish himself in his
chosen career before eventually marrying Judith
and becoming a father, only to see that carefully-
constructed life falling apart again when Judith
died. Now the wheel had turned once more, and he
found himself once more enjoying the sort of
prosperity that in the past he could never really
have dreamed of.

At last the meal, the toasts and the speeches

were over; the cake had been cut and the tables had
been cleared, and Caroline had gone with her
mother and Alex to change into her going-away
outfit.

As soon as he could get away from his new

father-in-law, Todd caught up with Harrison as he
was making his way across the room towards
Daniel.

"Isn't that Crossley the bookseller at Daniel's

table? What's he doing here? I don't remember
inviting him," demanded Todd, having been unable
to question Harrison during the reception.

"You didn't," replied Harrison; after all, the truth

would be the best possible answer. "I'm sorry, but he
has urgent business to discuss with Mother and
Daniel, and we suggested he should come along
with us and talk about it here."

"At my wedding?" demanded Todd outraged.

"You're talking business at

my wedding?"

Since Todd's father-in-law was apparently doing

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just that, Harrison could not help smiling at the
reaction; mellowed by marriage or not, Todd would
always be Todd. "I know," he said. "But it really
couldn't wait; we are going to have to make a
decision immediately. You have a beautiful wife," he
added, soothingly, "and by tonight you'll be away
from all this to start your honeymoon in the Lake
District. Why are you so bothered about poor
Crossley?"

"You're right," admitted Todd. "It's not important;

I was just a bit startled to see him here, that's all."
He looked across to where Daniel and Joseph were
waiting for Harrison. "I believe I may have been
wrong before, about your Daniel," he conceded,
wryly.

Taken by surprise at the words, Harrison caught

hold of Todd's hands. "You'll never know how much
that means to me," he said, making a determined
effort to keep his voice low.

"Well, I hope you and Daniel are going to be as

happy as Caroline and me," continued his brother,
benevolently.

"Thank you, Todd. We are already - and I think

we always will be."

Elizabeth came across the room to slip her hand

under Todd's arm. "Caroline's Aunt Julia has got to
be the most garrulous women I've ever met," she
informed them exasperatedly. "Are you two all
right?" she asked, glancing at each of them in turn,
knowing that something had happened between
them.

"Of course we are," replied Todd. "Now, Mother, I

have to go and get ready; you two go and have your

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talk with Mr Crossley." He kissed her cheek, shook
Harrison's hand warmly, and left.

"He knows about Crossley, then, and why he's

here?" asked Elizabeth.

"Yes, I've just been explaining," replied Harrison.

"We couldn't really expect to keep it from him, so I
thought honesty was the best policy."

She looked up into Harrison's eyes. "Well,

charming though that is, Harry, it doesn't seem
quite enough to have caused that particular
expression on your face; am I missing something
else?"

"He - " Harrison gathered himself only with an

effort. "He wished that Daniel and I would be as
happy as he and Caroline," he answered her,
quietly.

"Oh, how … " Unable to say anything sensible,

Elizabeth pulled him into a fond hug; after a
moment she released him and stepped back. "Now,
where is Mr Crossley?"

"Over there, talking to Daniel."
She looked quickly around her. "And Joseph?"
"He's found some company of his own age."

Harrison pointed to a small group of children on the
opposite side of the room. "They'll keep him
occupied for a little while."

"Good. So, shall we go and talk business?"

Mr Crossley and Daniel stood up as they

approached. They all found seats around a vacant
table and Crossley opened the discussion.

"I took the liberty of asking the owner, Mr

Golding, for the keys. If you are at all interested,

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perhaps we could all go and view the property
tomorrow morning."

"Surely we could just as easily go today," said

Elizabeth briskly.

"Oh, but I thought … with the wedding … "
"I understand, Mr Crossley, but my son and his

wife will be leaving in an hour to start their
honeymoon journey, and after that we may do as we
please."

"Well, yes, then, certainly ... I have no objections,

if you have not." Elizabeth looked briefly to
Harrison and Daniel, who both nodded their
agreement.

"That's settled then; we'll see Todd and Caroline

on their way, then we can all go home to get
changed before going to inspect the property." She
turned to Daniel. "We can take you and Joseph
home, too, and collect you again on our way to the
property."

Harrison wondered - not for the first time -

whether Daniel had realised, when he insisted on
his mother becoming a Trustee, exactly how
managing she might turn out to be.

"Won't Alexandra feel as if we've all deserted her

if we leave her at home?" asked Harrison. "And I
can't imagine that she would want to come with us."

His mother gave him a knowing look. "Alex is

getting changed here, and then going back with
Stephen and his parents to their house for dinner."

"I see. Then we really can please ourselves how

we spend the afternoon," he concluded smiling.

The house Crossley took them to was a large

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double-fronted building with a tidy, well-cared-for
appearance near St Andrew's Church.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, it's much larger than I thought

it would be," said Daniel. "I really don't see how we
would be able to use it."

"No," said Crossley, "you don't understand. Come

inside and look round properly before you make up
your mind."

He hurried up the steps and opened the door;

inside was a large, bright entrance hall with the
cold, unused feeling peculiar to empty buildings.

Elizabeth crossed to open one of the side doors

and look into the room beyond, returning to the
hallway just in time to hear Daniel say, "I'm sorry,
it's far too large for our purposes."

"Not for what I have in mind," Elizabeth said,

enigmatically.

"Well," asked Harrison, "are you going to

tell us

what you have in mind?"

"No, I don't think so. Not yet. Daniel, you and

Mr Crossley inspect the ground floor, that's where
the offices will be; take Joseph with you. Harry and
I will inspect the rooms upstairs."

"Mr Golding used to lease the upper floor to a

tenant, and he used the downstairs rooms himself,"
elaborated Mr Crossley.

Harrison and Elizabeth went upstairs and

wandered through the upper rooms; large windows
facing the street allowed the June sunshine to fill
the rooms, showing up the faded wallpaper.

"What are you thinking of?" asked Harrison,

when she stopped to look out onto the street below,
a very different view from the one she was

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accustomed to; there were no trees, and the only
view was of the houses opposite with their different
roof heights.

She turned from the window to face him. "I'm

thinking," she said, "of letting Todd have the
Falconer Square house before I die."

This was so completely unexpected a reply that

Harrison could do nothing but stare blankly at her.
"What?" he said, in astonishment. "I don't follow … "

"I know, dear. Let's go back downstairs, shall

we?"

They met the others in the hallway, with Mr

Crossley just as enthusiastic as he had been before.
"Well," he asked, "is it worth what Mr Golding is
asking?"

"Yes," replied Harrison, "it is. There's no denying

it's a very substantial building."

Nodding, Daniel agreed. "Compared with the

other properties we've looked at it would be ideal -
but it would not be at all viable unless we had a
tenant."

"Good," said Elizabeth. "Then we'll leave it to

you, Mr Crossley, to return the keys to Mr Golding
and tell him we accept his terms. Ask him if he will
please have all the documents sent to Harrison's
office."

"But it's a very big outlay," insisted Daniel,

"especially if we have trouble finding a tenant. We
should probably think about it a bit more before we
make a decision, and perhaps we could continue to
look for somewhere smaller at the same time."

Elizabeth, however, was confident, and in no

mood to listen to objections. "No," she said, "I don't

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believe there will be any difficulty about the
tenancy. Now, I think we're ready to leave, aren't
we? Where can we drop you off, Mr Crossley?"

After Crossley had been set down close to his

own address and the carriage had moved off again,
Harrison leaned forward in his seat. "Well, Mother,
when are you going to tell us what you didn't want
to say in front of Mr Crossley?" Elizabeth, smiling,
looked at each of the men in turn. "How would you
and Daniel feel about being able to live together
openly?" she asked them. "And in a manner that
nobody in the world could conceivably object to?"

Biting his lip, Daniel looked out of the carriage

window and made no reply.

"You know that's perfectly impossible," said

Harrison sharply. "Unless we choose to leave the
country and live elsewhere, and that really wouldn't
be a practicable proposition."

"I know." But Elizabeth's eyes were gleaming

with excitement. "Only think about that house," she
said. "It has plenty of space for offices and staff
quarters on the ground floor, with suitable
accommodation for Daniel and Joseph above - and
you and I could be the tenants in the second
apartment, Harry." She forestalled his next
objection. "I know Caroline is looking forward to
having Alexandra living with her as a companion,
they really are like sisters already."

"But will she want to stay with Todd and Caroline

without you being there?" asked Harrison.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "I don't think

Caroline will have Alexandra's company for very

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long."

Harrison looked puzzled. "Why ever not?"
"Because," she said patiently. "I am expecting to

hear very soon that she and Stephen wish to
become engaged to be married."

"Are you sure?"
Elizabeth looked faintly exasperated. "Are you

seriously questioning the fact that I know my
children better than they know themselves?"

"No." Harrison had the grace to look abashed. "I

wouldn't dare."

"Thank you." She returned to the main topic of

the conversation and insisted, "It's a very sensible
arrangement; you would be closer to your office,
and it would be easy for me to be more involved in
helping to run the Foundation"

They all stared at her, Joseph clearly beginning

to realise there was the possibility of living with
both Harrison and Aunt Elizabeth, while Daniel and
Harrison themselves were obviously having some
difficulty in believing her proposal.

"The present house would be perfect for Todd

and Caroline," said Elizabeth. "They'll be doing a lot
of entertaining, especially if Todd is serious about
moving into politics, and at some stage presumably
they intend to start a family of their own. It's an
excellent house to raise children in," she continued,
grinning.

"But what would you do about staff?" asked

Daniel, bewildered. "You'd have to have someone,
even in a much smaller establishment."

"Well," confessed Elizabeth, "I was planning to

ask Mr and Mrs Grainger to move with us. I'm sure

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Todd and Caroline will want to make their own
arrangements in due course, anyway, so they might
as well start doing so immediately."

Harrison laughed. "And are you intending to put

this scheme into operation before or after Todd gets
back from his honeymoon?" he demanded, archly,
shaking his head in disbelief. "And were you
actually planning on consulting him at all?"

But before his mother could answer the carriage

drew to a gentle halt, and when they looked out of
the windows they realised with some astonishment
that they had arrived at Falconer Square; they had
been so involved in all the implications of their
discussion that no one had really noticed quite how
close to home they were.

Grainger let them into the house, Elizabeth

entering first.

She began to take out her hat pins, able to see

Lily in the mirror. "Did you enjoy the wedding,
Lily?"

"Oh yes, madam, thank you. Miss Alexandra and

Miss Caroline both looked lovely, didn't they?"

"They did indeed. I hope there were no problems

getting home?" Elizabeth handed over her hat and
shawl.

"No, madam, Mr Grainger arranged everything

beautiful."

"Good." Elizabeth smoothed down the front of

her dress. "Will you please ask Mrs Grainger to
send up some tea?"

"Yes, madam."
Elizabeth went into the parlour and sank

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gratefully into her favourite chair. "Goodness. I
know we've been sitting down for half the day, but
I'm quite exhausted."

"Dad says a lot of excitement makes you feel

tired," said Joseph, from his usual place at her feet.

"Considering everything we've been doing today,

he's probably quite right. I've asked for some tea to
be sent up. Is there anything more we have to
discuss about the property?"

"Not immediately," replied Harrison. "We'll order

a Surveyor's report, and wait for the contract to
arrive, and then we'll have a better idea what needs
to be done next - if anything."

"We should probably go back and look at it

again," suggested Daniel. "We need to think about
how the rooms will be allocated, and what furniture
we'll need for the offices."

"Nothing to do with me," said Harrison with a

smile. "All that is up to you and Mother; I'll stay
well out of the way and just let the pair of you enjoy
organising everything."

"And we

will enjoy it," declared Elizabeth. "Of

course there are some items we can take from here,
and some I wouldn't want to do without, to furnish
our living quarters; I'm sure Caroline will have
changes she wants to make here anyway, and we
can discuss all that when the pair of them get back."
She smiled at Joseph. "Is your father insisting on
going home immediately after tea today?"

Joseph glanced Daniel who shook his head.

"No," he said. "I don't think so."

"Good. Then you and I can go off exploring

together, and see what this big old house has that it

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doesn't need - and you can be my secretary and
make the list out for me, if you will."

Unusually for Joseph he did not leap up at once.

"May I ask a question?"

"Of course, my love, what is it?"
Joseph looked towards his father. "My school.

Will I have to leave my school and go to another?"
he asked, anxiously.

Three faces were turned expectantly to Daniel,

who shook his head. "No, of course not. In fact, we'll
be even nearer to school at our new home than we
are with Mrs Foxley."

"Oh." But this still did not seem to have satisfied

the boy.

"Is there something else troubling you, Joseph?"

Elizabeth asked him, kindly.

"Well, no … only … won't she miss us, if we're

not there? What will happen to our rooms? Will
someone else live there?"

"Possibly," said Daniel, "but perhaps not. I know

that her brother is expected home from sea again
soon, and he's talked about buying a house for the
two of them somewhere near the shore. I should
think Mrs Foxley would like a smaller house,
wouldn’t you, with fewer stairs to go up and down?"

"Yes," agreed Joseph. "Then she wouldn't get so

tired - and she could spend much more time talking
to Orlando."

"That she could," smiled his father. "And maybe

she'll have a chance to teach him better manners,
too!"

Elizabeth looked at the clock, it was after seven.

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"I wonder what time Alexandra will be home?"

Harrison glanced up from the hand of cards he

held, knowing that he was going to be soundly
beaten, and probably yet again by Joseph. "It's still
early, remember the Sewards dine later than we do."

A few minutes later Harrison admitted defeat

and so did Daniel, while Joseph did his best not to
look too smug - and failed.

"Dreadful child," muttered his father.
"Dreadful possibly, but he's obviously cleverer

than the two of you put together," Elizabeth
observed, amused by their reaction.

"Or perhaps just sneakier," returned Daniel,

stretching his shoulders tiredly. "Come along,
young man, it's time we were leaving. Put the cards
away, please."

"The coachman will take you down in the

carriage if you like," suggested Elizabeth.

"Thank you for the offer, but he's had quite a

long day too, and I wouldn't want to put him to the
trouble; we'd be just as happy walking, really."

Elizabeth did not insist; Daniel and Harrison

had always walked up and down between Duke
Street and Falconer Square, and it was plainly
apparent that even such a special occasion as a
family wedding was not sufficient reason for a
change of routine.

Before they could collect their coats from the

hallway the doorbell rang, so everyone waited to
see who was calling.

Alexandra and Stephen came into the drawing-

room but remained near the doorway.

"Mrs Calderwood, Harrison, Daniel," greeted

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Stephen, and nodded to Joseph.

"Come and sit down," invited Elizabeth.
The couple remained where they were. "We have

something we would like to discuss with you," said
Stephen.

"In that case, you must certainly come and sit

down," insisted Elizabeth.

"I think it would be best if we left now," said

Daniel.

Stephen looked across, surprised. "No," he said,

"please stay."

Taking Stephen at his word, Daniel sat down

again, Joseph beside him.

Hesitating to begin, Stephen looked across at

Alexandra who nodded encouragingly.

"The fact is, Mrs Calderwood, Alexandra and I

would like to become engaged to be married."

"How lovely," Elizabeth said warmly. "I'm very

pleased for both of you."

"I realise we can do nothing without Todd's

permission and we wondered if you would be
willing to lend your support to our request?"

Elizabeth did not answer immediately. "What

does your father think?" she asked finally.

"He approves. I think he loves Alex almost as

much as I do."

"In that case, I certainly have no objections - and

I'm sure Todd will have none either." Elizabeth
nodded to Harrison, who left the room for a few
moments.

"I've seen the ring Stephen would like me to

have," Alexandra told her aunt happily.

"Already?"

317

background image

"It was my grandmother's," explained Stephen.
"Are you happy with that?" Elizabeth asked,

knowing Alexandra's meticulous taste.

"Oh yes," enthused Alexandra. "It's beautiful;

sapphires set round a diamond, it looks like a
flower."

Harrison returned and Elizabeth announced,

"We also have some news of our own, but I think I'll
let Daniel tell you about that."

They looked at him expectantly.
"It's not as exciting as your plans," he admitted,

"but it means a lot to us; we believe we've found a
property suitable to be the Foundation offices. In
Rodney Street," he added.

"Well done," said Stephen. "I know you've been

looking for a long time."

"There's more," said Elizabeth. "Daniel?"
"Well," he continued, "we haven't worked out all

the details yet, but the property is a very large one,
and so Joseph and I are going to live 'over the shop'
as it were. There is a lot to organise; apart from all
the decorating and furnishing we'll need to hire
some domestic and clerical staff."

"And Harrison and I are going to live in the

other apartment," continued Elizabeth, "leaving
Todd and Caroline in sole possession of this house."

Stephen and Alex were taken completely by

surprise by this revelation. "Do they know that?"
asked Alex. "Todd didn't say anything about it
before he left."

"No," replied Elizabeth. "The decision has only

just been made; they won't know anything about it
until they get back from their honeymoon."

318

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background image

Grainger came in carrying a cooler with a bottle

of champagne nestled in ice; Lily followed with a
tray of champagne glasses.

"Would you like me to open the wine, madam?"

he asked.

"No, thank you, Grainger, we'll do that for

ourselves."

After the servants had left, Elizabeth looked

around the room. "Well, gentlemen, there are three
of you here; which of you would like to open the
champagne?"

"I will," offered Harrison.
Joseph stood next to him as he officiated,

watching his every move, startled by the loud pop
as Harrison eased the cork free, fascinated by the
bubbles rising and bursting in the glasses.

"May I have some, please, just to taste?"
Harrison looked across to Daniel who nodded

his approval. "Just a very little," he admonished.
"No more than half a glass, or it will go to your
head."

Grinning as Joseph's abashed expression,

Harrison held out a glass to Daniel. "This isn't quite
the champagne celebration I promised you," he said
softly. "But I hope it will do for now."

Elizabeth raised her glass. "To the future," she

said. "Our future. The family; all of us, separately
and together."

Standing next to each other Daniel and Harrison

joined in the general toast. "Our future," they said,
virtually in unison - and they raised their glasses,
smiled at one another, and drank.

Ll

319

background image

About the Author

A resident of the north-west of England, Morgan

Cheshire has had a lifelong interest in botany and

ecology and has recently developed taste for

genealogy too – and rapidly discovered a colourful

family history to explore! She is also a patchworker

and quilter, a gardener when time permits, and the

enthusiastic grandmother of four boys and two girls.

She has been creating and sharing fiction for more

than thirty years, but has only recently ventured

into the realms of professional publication.

Ll

320

UUL


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