least.
Afterwards she examined everything she owned, looking for hiding places for her money. There must be several places from now on, so that Robert could never again find it all. Her petticoats, of course, and the belly of the toy dog she had sewed for Harry, perhaps. Oh, yes, her hoard should be well-scattered from now on!
Robert came back in the early hours of the morning, flushed with success. He shook her awake and poured a pile of guineas on to the bed. ‘Didn't I tell you? Here, take back what you lent me and put it in your box. And take some more to pay for our rent and food. Only don't be mean with the food this week. We all need feeding up if we are to look our best for London. Now, go and put that sponge thing in. I need you.’
‘But Robert, I'm tired!’
He gripped her arm fiercely. ‘With or without the sponge. Your choice!’
She did as she was told, though she got no pleasure nowadays from this parody of love. She had long realised that a successful night brought him home with this urgent need upon him, while a bad patch left him uninterested in his wife's body. She had come to resent this blind need, which had nothing to do with love or tenderness, and was only a wild lusting for relief.
Chapter 5
The Perrimans went up to London the following week by stagecoach. The driver grumbled at the amount of luggage they had and charged them extra for it, after a few sharp words with Robert.
Harry, fretting at being kept captive upon his mother's lap, alternated between roaring with frustration, wriggling like an eel (to the annoyance of the other passengers) and sleeping like a golden-haired cherub. After one of their stops for food, he was sick all over his mother, so that for the rest of the journey the other passengers complained about the smell. By that time, Helen was too weary to care.
Robert took no part in anything to do with his son and didn’t address a single word to Helen unless she spoke to him. He might have been a complete stranger, just another traveller, and one who was very disapproving of such a fractious child at that.
In London, however, he brightened up and took charge again. He summoned a cab with one flick of the wrist, which put him in a better humour, then deposited his wife and son at a seedy inn, where he seemed to be known.
When he had changed his linen and smartened himself up, he said casually, ‘I’ll have to leave you for a while.’ He was already moving towards the door without waiting for a response.
Helen moved over to bar the way. ‘Robert, wait! Where are you going?’
‘I need to go out, make a few inquiries about finding work.’
He didn’t look like a man searching for employment. He radiated what Helen thought of as his eager gambler’s air. But it would do no good to say that. He’d only turn sulky. When he had gone, she sighed and turned her attention to Harry. After cleaning him up, she took him downstairs to the dining room where she bought herself a meal and shared it with him. There she tried and failed to make friends with the landlady, a shrewish woman whose stringy body spoke the truth about her own cooking even before Helen had sampled it.
Back in their dingy bedchamber, she also tried and failed to keep Harry quiet, expecting Robert back at any minute. In the end, she took the child out for a walk to distract and tire him.
Not that he could walk properly yet, but he loved to go out and see things. He was heavy to carry and she was still run-down after nursing her husband, so when she returned, she was feeling more tired and depressed than ever. But at least the fresh air made Harry sleep, so she could rest.
She had bought some bread while she was out, secreting it under her cloak so that the landlady wouldn’t notice it. She ate a slice dry for her supper, not feeling able to summon up the energy even to toast it on the fire, to add a bit of taste.
Robert didn’t come back at all that night and she kept waking up, worrying that he
Afterwards she examined everything she owned, looking for hiding places for her money. There must be several places from now on, so that Robert could never again find it all. Her petticoats, of course, and the belly of the toy dog she had sewed for Harry, perhaps. Oh, yes, her hoard should be well-scattered from now on!
Robert came back in the early hours of the morning, flushed with success. He shook her awake and poured a pile of guineas on to the bed. ‘Didn't I tell you? Here, take back what you lent me and put it in your box. And take some more to pay for our rent and food. Only don't be mean with the food this week. We all need feeding up if we are to look our best for London. Now, go and put that sponge thing in. I need you.’
‘But Robert, I'm tired!’
He gripped her arm fiercely. ‘With or without the sponge. Your choice!’
She did as she was told, though she got no pleasure nowadays from this parody of love. She had long realised that a successful night brought him home with this urgent need upon him, while a bad patch left him uninterested in his wife's body. She had come to resent this blind need, which had nothing to do with love or tenderness, and was only a wild lusting for relief.
Chapter 5
The Perrimans went up to London the following week by stagecoach. The driver grumbled at the amount of luggage they had and charged them extra for it, after a few sharp words with Robert.
Harry, fretting at being kept captive upon his mother's lap, alternated between roaring with frustration, wriggling like an eel (to the annoyance of the other passengers) and sleeping like a golden-haired cherub. After one of their stops for food, he was sick all over his mother, so that for the rest of the journey the other passengers complained about the smell. By that time, Helen was too weary to care.
Robert took no part in anything to do with his son and didn’t address a single word to Helen unless she spoke to him. He might have been a complete stranger, just another traveller, and one who was very disapproving of such a fractious child at that.
In London, however, he brightened up and took charge again. He summoned a cab with one flick of the wrist, which put him in a better humour, then deposited his wife and son at a seedy inn, where he seemed to be known.
When he had changed his linen and smartened himself up, he said casually, ‘I’ll have to leave you for a while.’ He was already moving towards the door without waiting for a response.
Helen moved over to bar the way. ‘Robert, wait! Where are you going?’
‘I need to go out, make a few inquiries about finding work.’
He didn’t look like a man searching for employment. He radiated what Helen thought of as his eager gambler’s air. But it would do no good to say that. He’d only turn sulky. When he had gone, she sighed and turned her attention to Harry. After cleaning him up, she took him downstairs to the dining room where she bought herself a meal and shared it with him. There she tried and failed to make friends with the landlady, a shrewish woman whose stringy body spoke the truth about her own cooking even before Helen had sampled it.
Back in their dingy bedchamber, she also tried and failed to keep Harry quiet, expecting Robert back at any minute. In the end, she took the child out for a walk to distract and tire him.
Not that he could walk properly yet, but he loved to go out and see things. He was heavy to carry and she was still run-down after nursing her husband, so when she returned, she was feeling more tired and depressed than ever. But at least the fresh air made Harry sleep, so she could rest.
She had bought some bread while she was out, secreting it under her cloak so that the landlady wouldn’t notice it. She ate a slice dry for her supper, not feeling able to summon up the energy even to toast it on the fire, to add a bit of taste.
Robert didn’t come back at all that night and she kept waking up, worrying that he
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