Story Excerpt

Coins in the Box
by Kate Hohl

I sat at the scrubbed pine table in the kitchen staring at the ledger book that held all the household expenses. I’d learned that morning was the best time for me to sit with the bills. Before the neighborhood came alive with newsboys shouting out the latest headlines. Before the streets teemed with horse-drawn carriages clattering by on the cobblestones outside. Just me and Winnie, my faithful terrier, resting at my feet while the rest of the house still slumbered. I’d dressed in the dark before dawn, making sure that my gray serge dress was neatly pressed before I buttoned it up to my throat, my white cap carefully pinned on top of my hair that I braided tightly and looped back into a bun to tame the brown curls.

The numbers on the page hadn’t changed since I last opened the ledger. Still, my heart sank. No matter how many times I scratched out the sums, the answer was the same. Too few coins in my possession, too many outstanding bills in the unpaid column.

I threw down the pencil stub and rubbed my chilled hands. Once they were white and soft. A lady’s hands. Now they were rough and red, painful from the chilblains on my fingers. I pulled the edges of my wool cloak together. The late February morning was unseasonably cold even for the end of a London winter. I glanced at the kindling lit in the fireplace and willed the small conflagration to maintain its orange glow. I calculated that it should make it to mid morning before I absolutely needed to stoke the fire with more wood.

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime the day before. Lately, I’d only been eating one meal a day. But I feared I wouldn’t be able to keep that up forever. Running a household took a certain amount of strength. If I fell ill, everything I’d worked for would all go down the pan.

I was jolted out of my melancholy thoughts by a sudden scream.

The dog jumped up, barking madly. I leapt to my feet. Ran up the narrow servant’s staircase from the kitchen to the second floor. The scullery maid stood outside the doorway of my tenant. Locks of her blonde hair had escaped the white mobcap on her head, straggling against her pink cheeks. She clasped her hands to her chest. “Ma’am he’s done it again!”

“Are you all right?” I said.

She nodded.

I rolled up my sleeves. “Stand back, Agnes.” I rapped my knuckles on the wooden door. “Mr. Stokes?”

A resounding silence from the other side.

I knocked again. “Mr. Stokes. I know you’re in there.”

The sound of shuffling feet and a muttered oath sounded from inside the room.

I raised my voice. “Sir, I’m going to have to insist that you open the door.”

A moment passed. I feared my request was going to be ignored. Then, the door flew open. My tenant, Reginald Stokes, stood in his bare feet and trousers, buttoning up his shirt.

The dog lunged, snapping at his heels.

Stokes’ face blanched. “Call off your hound!”

“Winnie, sit!” I commanded.

Winnie, my loyal little terrier, reluctantly stood down, a growl rolling in her throat.

Agnes twisted her apron between her hands. “Oh, Mrs. Hudson, he grabbed me again. I’m a decent girl, I am!”

“It’s all right, Agnes,” I said. I handed her an envelope from my dress pocket. “Take this to the post office.”

She clutched the envelope to her chest, eyes brimming with tears.

“Look smart, now,” I said. “And bring Winnie down to the kitchen with you.”

She grabbed the dog by the collar and dragged her down the stairs.

Stokes breathed heavily through the heavy moustache that encroached below his upper lip. “Mrs. Hudson, I demand to know the meaning of this interruption.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “Sir, we’ve spoken before about your conduct with Agnes.”

He reached for his jacket and shrugged into it, not quite meeting my gaze. “All this fuss over nothing.”

“Agnes is a good girl and deserves to be treated as such.”

He puffed out his chest. “Madame, do you have the unmitigated gall to call my character into question?”

I felt the pulse thud in my temples, a barometer to the ire rising inside me. “I’m asking you to keep your hands to yourself when it comes to that girl.”

His head snapped back, his face suffused with red. “How dare you? I won’t be spoken to with such impertinence.”

“This is my home,” I said, my teeth clenched. “My rules.”

He took a step forward, so close I felt his hot breath on my cheek.