Free Alley Urchin by Josephine Cox Page A

given way to February since the awful night when father had disowned his only son, and that son had fled the area without trace, almost as though he had disappeared from the face of the earth. At first light after the violation of Emma, when Roland Thomas had come down to the porch, there had been no sign of the perpetrator. When the funeral procession had taken Mrs Thomas along the High Street to the churchyard, there had been no sign of her son: not during the service, nor at the graveside afterwards. There was much talk of it for many days following, with people curious to know what had taken place. They declared their sympathies to the grieving husband and he, in turn, quietly thanked them. They expressed their horror and regret at what had transpired between him and his only son, and he nodded gratefully, but made no comment. They fidgeted nervously with their black neck-ties and meticulously adjusted their prim little bonnets; then, feeling somewhat perplexed and frustrated, they went on their way. Roland Thomas was a private man, they knew, and they respected him for it. All the same, that son of his must have committed an evil deed for such a man as the trader to be so unforgiving! But now, with his wife gone, his son gone, and two female convicts residing on the premises, the circumstances at the Thomas store left much to be desired. There was talk that he intended taking on a young lad to help him in the store, and what with the upright and prim Rita Hughes having taken on the role as housekeeper there, they supposed it was respectable enough. What was more, Roland Thomas, a strong, fine figure of a man at fifty-nine years old, was not past taking himself a new wife, no indeed! Who could be more suitable than the blacksmith’s daughter, they wondered.
     
    Emma could hardly believe her ears. ‘ Marry you!’ she exclaimed, an expression of incredulity on her face as she looked at Roland Thomas through astonished grey eyes. ‘Do you know what you’re saying, Mr Thomas?’ Surely she had misheard, Emma thought. Only ten minutes before, she had been busily attending to her duties in the store, feeling grateful to be back at her work, and exchanging pleasantries with the customers. Now, here she was, summoned to the upstairs sitting-room and seated on the stiff horsehair couch opposite Mr Thomas, who was perched somewhat precariously on the edge of a tall ladder-back chair, his homely face wreathed with anxiety as he waited for her answer. But he dared not wait, for he saw the answer written plainly all over Emma’s countenance, so, taking his courage into his hands, he leaned forward in the chair to fix her all the more with his dark, troubled gaze. ‘Think on it, Emma,’ he urged, ‘don’t reject me out of hand . . . not until I’ve been through the advantages of such a union between the two of us.’
    He then went on to explain how he had thought long and hard about the proposition, and how after each painstaking deliberation he had come to the very same conclusion. ‘It can only benefit both of us, Emma . . . for my part, there are two main considerations. The first is that, when my time comes and I’m called to take place alongside my Violet, that no-good son o’ mine won’t be able to get his hands on this ’ere business! The second gives me even greater pleasure: not only will the business come into your capable and deserving hands, Emma – the good Lord knows how hard you’ve worked to make it flourish these past seven years – but I reckon with your energy and clever business head, you’ll take the Thomas name far higher than I ever could! You’ve got youth on your side, girlie . . . and that special inner drive to succeed. Oh, and there’s so much more opportunity now, to expand and prosper in all directions; you must see that . . . Why, you yourself pointed out the openings in the pearl-shell trade, and we’ve got the profits to prove it! And look how you’ve badgered me about the