‘You can’t go until I’m ready! I thought we had an agreement … I thought I told you—’
‘Well, I’m tired of being told! What can you do to stop me? Come after me, when my George can knock down any man in a fifty-mile radius? If you try it, I will start talking about these pictures of yours. To anybody who will listen – and I’m sure I could find people who’d be interested to hear.’ She leans towards him, takes a slow drag of her cigarette, fixes him with a baleful stare. ‘I’m tired of being told. By you, by everybody. So now I’m telling you. For the agreed sum of money, I will let you take my picture tomorrow or the next day; and I will keep my mouth shut for ever after. That’s the last offer I’ll make to you. I’m tired of it all.’ As she speaks, Cat feels her resolve like a solid shape inside her. She will let nothing stand in her way.
Robin glares right back at her for a minute, and then breaks into a wide grin. He laughs softly, pirouettes on his heel with his head thrown back, appealing to the sky at such treatment.
‘God! I’m going to miss you, Cat!’ he says. Cat blinks, bewildered. ‘You truly are a breath of fresh air. It’s a shame we’ve met under such odd circumstances, and you a servant. I think we could have been friends,’ he says, still smiling at her.
Cat thinks about this for a moment. ‘I very much doubt it,’ she says at last. ‘You’re a liar and a hypocrite.’
‘Very well then, Black Cat. You truly are as stubborn as a cat, and as difficult to govern. The day after tomorrow, then. Dawn, at the same place. We shall capture the elemental again, and I shall have to perform some magic when they send down their witness – if they insist on supplying their own film for the camera. Some switching of frames in the dark room – voilà!’ he cries suddenly, throwing his hands wide like a magician. ‘I shall win them over yet, just you watch.’ Cat slips her shoes back on, grinds her cigarette out with her toe.
‘I won’t watch. But you carry on.’ She pauses. ‘What’s wrong with Mrs Canning? What’s happened?’ she asks, in spite of herself. Robin’s smile fades, and an expression flits over his face that Cat can’t decipher. Anger? Or guilt?
‘Oh, don’t worry about Hetty. She’ll be fine. A little marital strife, I believe,’ he says, in a stilted voice. Cat thinks to press him harder, but thinks again.
‘Don’t forget to bring the money,’ she says, and leaves him there.
Later, once Sophie Bell is safely out of earshot, Cat turns back the lock in her door. She opens it a few inches and waits for her pulse to return to normal, her breathing to grow deeper, more even. Still feeling sick, and with her head aching, she sits on the edge of the bed, uses the night stand for a table, and writes two letters.
Dear Tessy – well, I have come up with a plan, just as I promised. Soon, I will have left this place and gone away with my sweetheart, whose name is George Hobson. If you ask around, someone will know how to find us. I say this because I will write to the mistress here, before I make my escape, and beg her to send for you to replace me. I think she will do as I suggest. I have told her a little of your situation, and how we came to be arrested, and I know she will do the right thing. So expect to hear from her soon, because not this morning but the next, I am leaving with George. I can’t tell you the joy and anticipation I feel, Tess! To be making my own way from now on, and not governed by anybody. I feel as though a new life is about to begin, and one in which at last I can be happy. I’m so excited I can barely keep a straight face as I go about the chores! I hope that you will be more content here than I have been. You always were better than me. The vicar’s wife is a good woman, and always tries to be kind. But there are alternatives if you can’t settle, Tess! I met a woman at the butcher’s shop just the other day who had worked for fifteen years at Cowley Park, which is a huge house near to here. Now she works at the telephone exchange. She is a professional! And out of service. Things are changing, Tess, and only for the better I believe. However you find it here, it will be better by far than Frosham House. I will be in touch, I promise. We will see each other again soon. Look after yourself, and please be strong enough to come here, and take my post.
With my love, your friend, Cat
Mrs Canning – if you are reading this it is because you have sought me out and found me gone. I apologise that I did not give notice, but sometimes a person must follow their heart and their impulses, and strike a blow for what they believe. I can no longer live as a servant, and as a free person I leave this house without a by your leave. One thing I beg of you – please send for Teresa Kemp to be my replacement. She is in the workhouse, as I told you. It is called Frosham House, on Sidall Road in London. She is a good, sweet girl; not at all like me. Her current misfortune is all my doing and none of her own, and she will be a good girl for you, and work hard. Tell Mrs Bell to be kind to her. I know Sophie has a soft heart behind that sharp tongue of hers, and Tess will have much need of the former when she comes down. She is little more than a child, still.