William Monk 17 - Acceptable Loss

welfare in mind.”
    It was not so long since they had been close friends, sharing laughter, dreams, even the excitement of Margaret’s courtship with Rathbone, and her anxieties that he would never actually propose to her. She had not said so in as many words, but there had been a time when Margaret had feared that he would always love Hester, and had secretly imagined that Hester would have made him happier. It had been some time before she had realized that was not true.
    Now they faced each other, several feet apart in the small room with its table, chairs, and bookcases, a world apart in emotion.
    There was no time to waste in prevarication, or in an attempt to smooth the way to any kind of understanding.
    “You were at the clinic the morning Hattie Benson left,” Hester stated.
    Margaret was stiff, her shoulders high and straight, a very faint color in her cheeks.
    “You came here to tell me that?” she said with surprise. “You’ve lost your evidence. I know that. She won’t testify to save your friend. Although how you can be a friend to Rupert Cardew is beyond my imagination. But, then, you have not been in court, and perhaps that is some excuse. I assure you, your loyalty is misplaced.”
    All kinds of bitter retorts rose to Hester’s lips, especially as Margaret herself had not been in court the previous day, but Hester did not speak them. It would break the frail thread of contact between them, and she needed to know the truth.
    “I want to know what happened to Hattie, Margaret; that’s all I’m concerned with at the moment. I promised to look after her. I want to know why I failed, regardless of what she might have said on the stand.”
    “What she might have said is that she lied to you,” Margaret answered. “You were kind to her, and she wanted to please you. I imagine she also had a very good idea of where her best future interests lay, should she ever be sick or injured, or need your help for any kind of problem. And she wouldn’t be the first who lied to please the police, out of fear, or for revenge, or simply because it’s easier than keeping up a resistance. You know as well as I do that street women survive by pleasing others, frequently those they are afraid of.” She made a slight gesture, half pity, half disgust. “They know what people want, and they give it to them. It’s their trade.”
    Hester shook her head fractionally, as if to rid herself of something. “Is that how you think of her, as someone who lies to please, that’s all?”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Hester, don’t be so self-righteous. This is the time for truth. Yes, that is what I think of girls like Hattie. Maybe if I had had the misfortune of being born into her lot in life, I would be the same. I wasn’t. I had fine parents, good health, good examples to follow, and I married a fine man. I show my gratitude for it in service to those less fortunate, but I’m not blinded by sentimentalityregarding their nature, or their weaknesses. Sometimes I think you are.”
    Hester was overtaken by an anger that astounded her. She stood for a moment, trembling a little.
    “I imagine we both have thoughts about others that are less than flattering,” she said almost between her teeth. “Or even downright unkind. I want to know why you took Hattie at least as far as the door, and watched her go outside, when you knew that I had her in the clinic to keep her safe so she could testify at the trial. Why did you?”
    “You sound like a policeman,” Margaret said with a slight curl of her lip. “You are giving yourself airs to which you have no right. I gave my time to help at the clinic because I believe in the work you do there. I am not your servant to answer your questions.”
    “Either I ask you or William does,” Hester said grimly.
    “Then, William may try,” Margaret snapped back. “I do not have to account to you for where Hattie went, even did I know.”
    “You don’t have to tell me,” Hester began, furious with herself because her voice was shaking.
    “That is what I just said,” Margaret told her.
    “Because I already know!” Hester snapped. “She went back to Chiswick, where she was strangled and her body thrown into the river!”
    Now it was Margaret’s turn to blanch, and to find herself gasping for breath.
    “Now perhaps you can see my concern,” Hester added tartly. “Also why William may very well ask you where she went, and why you took her to the door.”
    Margaret