Maud knew she needed a good deal of resolve for what now lay ahead. She would have to do several things she had not done before, but she thought she could manage it. The main thing to remember was the address she had found that day in Thomasina’s desk–the address that had been tucked into a drawer, rather than being in Thomasina’s proper address book. Number 17, Paradise Yard, Seven Dials, London. And a name: Catherine Kendal.
Maud could see now that Thomasina meant Catherine Kendal to be kept secret, partly because the address was not in her proper address book, but also because of what Higgins had said in the bath-house at Latchkill about Thomasina: ‘One of her pretty little sluts from Seven Dials.’ Maud had instantly remembered Catherine Kendal and the Seven Dials address, and what Thomasina had said that day: ‘There’s a girl who lives in a poor part of London. She’s had to do some dreadful things to avoid starving, and she has a sick sister. She’d do anything in the world for that sister…’
Maud set off along the lanes. It was a quarter past midnight–a lonely time to be out, but she was unlikely to meet anyone. She needed to get to Chester where she could get a train to London. If she could walk as far as one of the small market towns–Barrow or Tarporley–there were little country trains. Milk trains usually ran around four a.m. and Maud did not mind travelling into Chester on a milk train.
It would be a very long walk to Barrow but she did not mind that either. She knew the way because she had quite often been there for shopping, and there were signposts and milestones. She would have little rests on the grass at the side of the road as she went.
If she had to, she was going to say she was a parlourmaid, dismissed because the son of the house had forced his way into her bedroom. Or was that a bit too much like a penny novelette? Perhaps she could say she was going to see her mother who had been taken ill. Yes, that would be better; it would get people’s sympathy. And if she had to give her name to anyone on her journey, she was going to say it was Catherine Kendal and that she lived in London.
Catherine Kendal, with that Seven Dials address. Catherine Kendal was one of Thomasina’s pretty little sluts, who would do anything to avoid starving. And who, Thomasina had said, was exactly Maud’s own age, exactly Maud’s own age…
It was easier than she had dared hope. There was indeed a milk train from Barrow, and the incurious train driver had said, Oh, yes, he was going to Chester all right, so hop in miss, and help yourself to a drink of milk from that churn while you’re about it. And she had hopped in and once at Chester had managed to get on a train bound for London.