Contract
Southampton
Meg awoke to the sound of voices coming up through the radiator pipe. She blinked a few times and then looked at the time. It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. Who could her mother possibly be speaking to?
Slipping on the pink robe her mother had given her for Christmas last year (possibly the only gift her mother had ever given her that she actually liked), she crept over to have a better listen.
She could clearly recognize her mother’s voice, but the man’s seemed foreign to her. She tried to piece together the conversation the best she could to determine who he was and what he might be doing there.
“There’s no way out, I can assure you,” he was saying. “I’ve spent years trying to come up with something… anything… but it’s legally binding.”
“Perhaps there’s another attorney we can speak to,” her mother replied.
“I’ve spoken to lawyers this side of the Atlantic and the other, Mrs. Westmoreland. The will must be carried out as specified by your late husband, and you are running out of time.”
“Out of time?” Mildred questioned, and then Meg heard that distinct guffaw her mother made whenever she thought she was cleverer than whomever she was speaking to. “We have all the time in the world.”
“No, you don’t, Mrs. Westmoreland. You have read the contract closely, haven’t you?”
“Yes, of course I have.” Her voice went up both in octave and in volume.
“Then you’ll remember that paragraph twelve specifies that if the marriage hasn’t taken place by the time Mary Margaret is twenty-one….”
“What are you doing?”
Meg jumped, nearly hitting her head on the pipe. She turned to see Kelly standing in the doorway, a puzzled expression on her face. She shushed her and nestled her ear back against the pipe, hoping she hadn’t missed anything important.
“Well, naturally I didn’t know that or else we would have gone through with it years ago,” her mother said, her tone showing she was completely put out now.
Kelly tiptoed over and stood next to Meg, also listening intently.
“All I can say is,” the man continued, his tone also showing he was more than a bit perturbed, “I suggest you get this done sooner rather than later. Otherwise, you’ll get nothing.”
“Very well, Mr. Steele,” her mother said, and Meg caught Kelly’s eyes, finally knowing who her mother was talking to, though she had nothing to associate him with. “I shall talk to Bertram and we will make the necessary arrangements.”
“She’s nearly twenty now. That gives you about a year….”
“I am aware of how old my daughter is!” Mildred spat. “Now, Mr. Steele, Tessa will show you to the door.”
“Good day, Mrs. Westmoreland,” Meg heard him say, but in response she only heard her mother shouting at Tessa to walk Mr. Steele out.
Hurrying over to the window that faced the front of the house, Meg peered through the curtains so that he wouldn’t notice her and watched as a thin man in his mid-forties climbed into a horse drawn carriage that was waiting for him on the street. He gave a signal, and the driver took off.
“Odd that an attorney doesn’t have a motor coach,” Kelly mused.
“Well, if his other clients can afford what my mother can, it’s no wonder,” Meg responded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Whatever is the matter?” Kelly asked, noticing her expression.
Meg didn’t answer. Instead, she crossed over to her armoire and pulled a box down from the top shelf, bringing it over to her bed. She sat down next to it, and opened the lid. Curious, Kelly followed her and sat down on the other side.
A discarded hat and scarf, along with a pair of gloves later, and Meg pulled out her treasure—a hand full of bills and enough change to cover the bottom of a wishing well.
“What’s all this?” Kelly asked. “Where did you get all of that?”
“I’ve been saving it,” Meg replied as she began to count the bills. “Forever.”
“It’s quite a lot,” Kelly muttered.
“Yes. Last I counted, I had nearly two hundred pounds,” Meg agreed. “But that’s been at least a year and a half ago.”
“Two hundred pounds? Goodness! If your mother knew about all this….”
“She doesn’t. She can’t,” Meg cut her off. Once she’d finished counting the bills, she set them back inside the box, looking at the coins, and determining there was no need to count them at the present moment, she put the other effects back on top. “Kelly—I’m done waiting to see what my mother may or may not do. I’m leaving.”
“You’re leaving?” Kelly echoed. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been saving so that I can go to America. Now is the perfect time. Why wait any longer? I have enough for you and Daniel and Ruth to go with me. We’ll have to go second or third class, but that is all right. We probably should anyway—so that I am not recognized.”
“Oh, Meg,” Kelly began, slowly shaking her head. “America? Now?”
“Yes,” Meg reassured her. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. Why not now?”
“But Meg,” Kelly began, leaning back away from her friend a bit, “Daniel and I had been saving. But then, when Ruth came along, well, we couldn’t save as much.”
“It’s all right,” Meg assured her. “I’ve got enough saved to get us started. Once we get there, we can find employment. I can find work. Of some sort.”
“I’m sure you could,” Kelly replied. “But Meg, Daniel and I can’t expect you to take care of us.”
“I won’t be. Consider it a loan then.”
“Besides,” Kelly continued, “there’s something else.”
Meg was busy putting the lid back on the box and didn’t see the expression on her friend’s face. Once she realized she’d paused, she looked up, expectantly.
“I’m going to have another baby.”
“Certainly you are. Have another baby. Have lots of babies. Have them in America.”
“No, Meg. You don’t understand. I mean I’m going to have another baby soon. In the fall, actually. Late fall, early winter.”
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