Free No Cure for Love by Jean Fullerton Page A

Trundle and myself that are not altogether clear, but I can’t think how you could be of assistance. There seems to be some discrepancy between the quality of goods purchased and the rotting vegetables and mouldy bread that appear to be the daily diet of the poor wretches I have seen this morning,’ Robert said, watching Donovan’s face closely.
    ‘Discrepancy?’ Donovan boomed as he turned to the man and his wife huddled in the corner. ‘As a member of the workhouse governors I take a very dim view of such things.’
    A shrewd expression crossed Robert’s face. ‘Quite so. But can you explain how “Supplied by Messrs Donovan & Ass.” described here as’ - he peered at the open page and ran his index finger under an entry - ‘“best cut beef shin” only yesterday shows no evidence of it ever having been in the grubby kitchen?’
    ‘I showed you the meat, Doctor, hanging in the larder,’ Mrs Trundle said with a puff of indignation.
    ‘The couple of dry, scraggy pieces of meat I saw hanging on hooks in the pantry are hardly what I would call prime shin,’ Robert replied, fixing his eyes on Donovan. The Irishman held his gaze, Robert looked back to the ledger. ‘There is also the matter of the delivery of three sacks of newly dug potatoes two days ago.’
    ‘They were in the pantry too,’ Mrs Trundle interjected.
    ‘Those potatoes you showed me may have been “newly dug” a month ago, but are now green and sprouting.’
    ‘There must be some mistake. My man at the yard must have sent the wrong supplies,’ Danny said after a second.
    ‘Is that so?’
    ‘What else could it be?’
    Leaning forward and resting on his elbows on the table, Robert steepled his fingers. ‘It could be that the workhouse was being charged high prices for poor supplies.’
    Danny’s eyes narrowed and his mouth started to tighten. ‘Are you accusing me?’
    ‘No, but you’re right. This is a fortuitous meeting. Now you know of the discrepancies, I have no need to take the matter to the committee immediately, I will wait until you have looked into it first.’
    For one second Robert thought that Donovan was about to lunge at him, then the familiar expression of jovial good humour returned.
    He slapped his thigh and winked at Robert. ‘I said to my Ellie you were a powerful clever man, and that you are, sir.’
    With a great deal of effort Robert forced himself to remain composed. He stood up.
    ‘Do you see Mrs O’Casey a great deal?’ Robert asked, the question springing from his lips of its own volition.
    ‘Come, Doctor. You’re a man of the world.’ Danny gave him a mocking glance. ‘God love you, sir, Ellen and I are intimate friends.’
    With a satisfied grin on his face, Danny took up his top hat from the table. ‘I’ll have a word with my man at the yard.’ He flipped the hat on his head and tapped it down. ‘And I’ll give Ellen your regards when I see her later.’
    Stifling the urge to smash Danny Donovan in his puffy face, Robert forced out a ‘thank you’. Robert stood motionless for a good minute or two after the door closed on Donovan and the Trundles. He sat back down at the ledger, picked up his quill and tried to resume his study of the figures. He jotted down a couple of notes, then stopped and stared blankly at the paper.
    There was a loud crack. Ink splattered the crisp, white page. The pen in Robert’s hand was now snapped in half.
     
    Kitty lifted her blonde head as Ellen supported her back to her chair and sat her down. It was only half an hour before the entertainment was due to start and Kitty had been vomiting without cease for the past three-quarters of an hour.
    ‘You can’t go on like that, Kitty,’ Ellen said, giving her friend a glass of water.
    ‘I have to. Danny will sack me if I’m sick again,’ Kitty said, her bright blue eyes staring helplessly. She swallowed, then retched again into the bucket on the floor.
    Ellen watched, concerned and sympathetic. She and Kitty had