Molly's Journey

by Sheila Newberry

‘You weren’t to know he’d come back, Mrs Nagel, and we weren’t alone in the house. There was them downstairs.’

  ‘Why didn’t you call out for help, my dear?’

  ‘I didn’t want Molly to know, she’d been frightened enough, as it was.’

  ‘You are a brave girl, Nancy. Thank you for what you endured for her sake.’ Alexa put out one hand awkwardly and touched the girl’s wrist.

  ‘Please, Mrs Nagel, I don’t want no fuss. There ain’t going to be a baby after all, and poor Mrs Colton has enough to bear, I reckon, don’t you? He’d only deny it, that sort always does. Anyway . . .’ Nancy hesitated, then went on, in a whisper: ‘It’s happened to me before, only not – always all of it. More black eyes and that . . . I daren’t say too much or I’ll have to pay for telling when I have to go back home.’

  ‘You mean,’ Alexa exclaimed, sickened, ‘your own family?’

  Nancy nodded. She covered her face again with shaking hands at the shame of it.

  Then Alexa was hugging her close and saying vehemently: ‘You shan’t go back there, Nancy, if I have anything to do with it. You must come to England with us – not as nursemaid, Fay’s father is making his own arrangements, but I will take you to my own home and guarantee you a new life and steady work. I agree, it would destroy Cicely if we divulged all this, but I will try and restore your faith in human nature, I promise you.’ And in men, she thought, even though my own experience was unhappy. But although we were incompatible, at least my husband was never violent . . .

  ‘What about Molly?’ Nancy asked. ‘Will she be living with you, too? Oh, Mrs Nagel, I don’t deserve all this kindness.’

  ‘Nancy, believe me, you do! As for Molly, you are probably right, we will say nothing of all this to her at the moment. I don’t know if she will take me up on my offer of employment: her head is full of dreams of the circus just now it seems.’ She managed a wry smile.

  ‘We mustn’t spoil her dreams!’ Nancy said, in her old-fashioned way as she clung to one she had been in awe of until now. Loyalty was all she had to give, but both Alexa and Molly would be grateful for that in the years ahead.

  *

  Molly put her pen down. Blow! She’d made a big blot on the turned back sheet, she thought. She was too comfortable in bed to go down for a drop of milk to try and shift the stain; anyway, she had other things on her mind.

  Rory’s friendly note had told her of further circus triumphs, minor mishaps – one of Cora’s poodles had bitten the ringmaster, but been forgiven, being old – and reminded her that the family hoped she really would join them, and ‘learn the ropes’ when they were all in England. Thom was convinced she could be a dancer like Florence – he’d recalled that she had changed her name from Nutt to Almond, by the way! Florence’s high kicks were much envied by the other girls at the time. She was amazingly supple, apparently. Yes, their passage was booked: they would be travelling together, but not together – she’d know what he meant! Maybe they would meet up first at his mother’s in Melbourne. Rory hoped so. Cora and Thom sent their best.

  With strange reluctance, she tore open the second envelope.

  My dear Molly,

  I thought I could forget you, let you go out of my life, but I cannot. I know I hurt you. I also was sad in myself.

  I must go back to Denmark, yes, and make my peace there. Dare I ask that you will come with me? I cannot offer marriage, indeed I should not, until I am established once more, but Molly, I know I love you – is that enough for now?

  It will be difficult for you, but you have a strong heart. If you wish to come, I am sure you will, I will be at this address in Sydney, waiting. I sail on . . .

  The date had come and gone, and so had Henny, more than a month ago. Molly put her head under the covers to stifle her weeping. She would have gone like a shot, even if it had meant leaving Alexa in the lurch and abandoning her plans for joining the circus. That was how being hopelessly in love affected you. She hadn’t got over him after all. Now he must feel he had been a fool, writing like that, and that she didn’t care. She had no idea of his address in Denmark. It was too late! It would have been better if she had never received his letter.

  *

  It was the morning of their departure for Sydney. Molly, Alexa, Nancy and Fay waved goodbye to Cicely, who had come to see them off on the train.

  What was she calling out now as the train moved off and she blew them a last kiss? ‘Will I ever see you again, Alexa?’ Molly realised. She felt a pang of distress. Poor Cicely, left with that rotten husband, she thought. Wealth meant nothing if you didn’t have happiness. She glanced at Nancy. Her friend looked happy and excited. It was really nice of Alexa to have asked her to come with them. Nancy had written to her ma, enclosing the confirmation from her employer.

  Now Alexa was rubbing at a smut on Fay’s face. ‘Keep still, child, will you, please?’ She didn’t want her companions to see the tears welling in her own eyes at her old friend’s final farewell words.

  It won’t be too long before I see the Kellys again, Molly thought. I must accept that any relationship with Henning is just not meant to be . . . but I’m going to make it clear to Rory that only friendship is on the cards for us.

  ‘You’ve got a loose button on that cuff, Molly,’ Nancy reproved her, giving it a little tug. The button came off in her hand. ‘There you are! Can’t you sew?’

  ‘Certainly can’t,’ Molly admitted cheerfully.

  Nancy rummaged in her bag, full of Fay’s requirements and a packed lunch for them all. ‘Here, I’ve got my mending things. Hold your arm steady,’ she ordered, ‘and I’ll sew the button back on.’

  ‘Mind you don’t connect me to it, then! Who taught you to sew like that?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘Not Ma, I can tell you that. I learned at the mission. There you are, all done.’ Nancy snipped the thread with nail scissors, not biting it off as Molly would have done.

  ‘Sewing,’ Alexa murmured. ‘Now, there’s an idea . . .’ But she did not enlighten them further.

  *

  Serena greeted them like old friends. Rory, who had been there to meet them from the boat after the second stage of their journey, helped the cab driver carry in their luggage. ‘Oh, my,’ the landlady marvelled, ‘young Fay’s not a baby any more.’

  ‘I’m a big girl. Old enough to know better,’ she agreed.

  ‘I can guess who told you that!’ Serena said. ‘Upstairs to freshen up, eh, and then—’

  ‘A nice cup of tea,’ Molly finished for her. ‘Elfie’s changed, don’t you think?’ she joked. ‘This is Nancy from Bodenflower, Serena. She’s coming home with us.’

  ‘Mrs Nagel advised me, in her letter. Miss Wills married, eh? The air must have perked her up no end! You’ve got the rooms you had before. I’ll leave it up to you who you share with.’

  *

  ‘I’m glad to catch you on your own, young man,’ Alexa told Rory, on entering the dining room.

  He looked up with a smile from laying out cutlery on the table. ‘Yes, Mrs Nagel?’ He pulled out a chair, inviting her to sit down. ‘Dinner won’t be long, Mother’s just dishing up.’

  ‘I’m in no hurry to eat. I just wanted to warn you not to fill Molly’s head with romantic tales of your way of life – before she makes her mind up to join the circus.’

  ‘She already has,’ he said mildly.

  ‘Maybe. But she’s not yet of age and her father must give his permission. Until he does, Molly is in my charge.’

  ‘I understand that, Mrs Nagel. But Molly will, I am very sure, do exactly as she pleases. However, I assure you I will not put pressure on her in any way. Will that do?’

  ‘I suppose it will have to,’ Alexa sighed.

  He said unexpectedly: ‘And please don’t worry that I will take advantage of her. She is very attractive, yes, but not quite a woman yet. If we are to work together it is probably best that we have a purely friendly relationship based on trust, because that is the nature of the j
ob. We should keep other feelings in check. Anyway, she doesn’t see me in a romantic light.’

  ‘You are a perceptive fellow. You spoke of trust? Well, I believe I can trust you now to do the right thing.’

  ‘Shall we drink to that, Mrs Nagel?’ He poured sherry into glasses.

  He’s hardly the type to bowl a maiden over, he has some maturing to do himself, Alexa thought, raising her glass to him. He’s not – oh dear! – our class, but he has integrity. Despite his profession, he might even be a steadying influence on dear Molly Sparkes . . .

  She came rushing into the room. ‘Oh, here you are! Look, Alexa, Serena gave me this ring. For good luck in the future, she says, and to remember her by!’

  She flashed her hand at Alexa who couldn’t help an involuntary shiver. She wouldn’t say, of course, but the opal was rumoured to be an unlucky stone . . .

  PART TWO

  ONE

  London – 1907

  Alexa’s house in Whitechapel was in a terrace of impeccably maintained residences, each of three storeys with heavily curtained sash windows and a railed front area opening directly on to the street. A town house, convenient for tram and train; for the city and business affairs. A place where privacy was paramount and the return of Mrs Nagel that summer to number 84, with two young ladies and a small girl, was considered none of their business by the neighbours.

  The next day there was an unexpected visitor. They were all upstairs, still in the process of unpacking, tired and somewhat disorientated after their lengthy travels.

  Molly volunteered to answer the shout of the daily, Mrs Moore: ‘Gentleman to see you, Mrs Nagel!’ when Alexa exclaimed: ‘Oh, I can’t face anyone until I’ve tidied myself – will one of you go, please?’ So Molly, with Fay in tow, intent on not missing out, descended the stairs to see who waited in the square hall. It was someone so tall he partially blocked the light spilling from the stained glass window over the front door.

  ‘Hello, man!’ Fay said cheerfully, but she pulled at Molly’s sleeve to let her know that she should lift her up.

  Molly was aware that she was grubby from her forays under her bed, shoving a soft-topped case out of sight, for attention later. She couldn’t live up to Alexa and Nancy, she told herself, putting garments to one side to press before hanging them in the wardrobe, and she didn’t feel guilty about it in the least. She had tied a checked duster over her hair, at Alexa’s insistence, and was padding about bare-foot because it was hot. The house was carpeted from top to bottom, so she wouldn’t get splinters in her feet from wooden floors, which had been one of Sister Margaret Mary’s dire warnings in the past. ‘Slippers, Molly Sparkes – slippers!’

  ‘Good morning,’ she said, regarding the caller curiously. He was not only tall, he stood very straight and for a moment she was puzzled because he vaguely reminded her of her father: then she realised that it was the military bearing and that this solemn-faced stranger with short dark hair and a fierce moustache must be Fay’s father.

  ‘Good morning, I’m Matthew Dunn. I believe Mrs Nagel is expecting me?’ He had a pleasant, resonant voice.

  ‘Not today . . . Well, you didn’t say when in your letter – we only got back yesterday,’ Molly floundered. She couldn’t pull the covering from her hair because she was holding on to Fay. She was also conscious that Matthew Dunn had glanced at her bare feet and then looked tactfully away; he seemed even loftier because the heels on her shoes would have given her the illusion of extra height.

  ‘This is my daughter, of course.’ He did not attempt to take Fay, regarding him curiously. ‘And you are?’

  ‘Molly Sparkes.’

  He was smiling now, and it quite transformed his face. He was younger than Molly had imagined him to be: perhaps not yet thirty. ‘Oh, I’ve heard all about you!’

  She smiled back. ‘Nice things, I hope?’

  ‘Naturally! Fay, let me introduce myself. I’m your daddy.’

  ‘You’re Matthew,’ Fay retorted, looking up at him. ‘Granny said so.’

  ‘And Granny is right. I don’t mind what you call me as long as we get on famously. Well, Fay, will you please fetch your granny and tell her who’s here?’

  Fay slid to the ground from Molly’s arms and made for the stairs. ‘Granny, Granny – come and see! Matthew’s here!’

  He wasn’t smiling now. He looked at Molly and said quietly: ‘She’s Lucy all over again. It’s amazing, wonderful, but it hurts . . . ’

  I didn’t think men were as emotional as women, but poor Matthew Dunn looks so utterly bereft at this moment, Molly thought. She put out one grubby hand and lightly touched his arm. ‘Come and wait in the drawing room,’ she suggested.

  ‘Your dress is all rucked up at the back: please forgive me for mentioning it,’ he murmured apologetically, as he walked after her into the room.

  ‘Well, that cheered you up, didn’t it?’ she said brightly, smartly tweaking her skirt. ‘Even though you’ve made me blush!’

  *

  ‘You aren’t expecting to take her with you today?’ Alexa appealed to Matthew.

  Mrs Moore had rustled up coffee and the girls had opened the French windows in the drawing room and taken Fay outside into the garden, to give the two of them a chance to talk.

  ‘Oh, no, Mrs Nagel,’ he hastened to reassure her. ‘It’s just that your homecoming fortunately coincided with the start of the summer holidays at school—’

  ‘School?’

  ‘I have recently obtained a post at a boys’ preparatory school in Sevenoaks. I commence my teaching duties: mathematics, geography and games, in the autumn. I understand from Colonel Sparkes that, by a coincidence, the school is in the vicinity of the convent where his daughter was educated. He warmly recommends the education there so I shall consider it for Fay in the future.

  ‘I am renting a house in the area, with a view to buying later on. My new address is on the note I sent you. The journey between London and Sevenoaks doesn’t take long, as you know. We will come to you, or you can come to us – it’s very important, I’m sure you’ll agree, that you and Fay should see each other often.’

  ‘How will you manage? Will you employ a nanny?’ Alexa asked.

  ‘I intend to devote myself to Fay, care for her myself for the next few weeks. I owe her that. Anyway, it’s something I very much want to do.

  ‘A cleaner comes in twice a week. She also deals with the laundry. From September, a kindly local lady will look after Fay at home during the day while her own older children are at school. How does that sound to you?’ Matthew obviously wanted her approval of his plans.

  ‘It – all sounds very satisfactory,’ she agreed.

  ‘I thought I might stay around here for a short while; see Fay as much as possible, so that she gets to know me properly, if that is agreeable to you? Then, when I feel she’s ready, we’ll go home.’

  ‘You seem to have thought things over very well,’ Alexa said. ‘Of course I agree to your suggestion. Particularly as you are allowing me a little time to get used to the fact that I have to part with Fay. But I also have a proposition to put to you. I haven’t mentioned this to her yet because I wanted your opinion first. Why not invite Molly to accompany you when you return to Kent? Stay a few days to ease Fay in? I’m sure it would help.

  ‘Molly and Nancy will be working, shortly, in my business here in London. In Molly’s case, this will be purely a temporary arrangement. She has plans for a more exotic career which may, or may not, come to fruition in a few months’ time,’ Alexa added drily.

  ‘I am suggesting Molly because Nancy has enough adjusting to do here at present. She has to come to terms with a very different environment. Molly, on the other hand, takes most things happily in her stride.’ She doesn’t let disappointment get her down, thought Alexa.

  ‘I can see that,’ Matthew observed. ‘I think it is an excellent idea, and I hope Molly will, too.’ He paused, looked thoughtfully at his mother-in-law. ‘We’re going to be friends, aren�
��t we? I’m really grateful for the way you have looked after Fay this past year – glad you have become so close. I won’t do anything to spoil that, I promise you.’

  *

  Molly was soon enjoying a stay at Wren’s Nest, Matthew and Fay’s new home, a typical weatherboarded Kentish house with a big garden, in a quiet lane on the outskirts of a village. It was nice, she thought, to be at ease with a man who obviously had no romantic interest in her at all. She liked Matthew Dunn very much; she could understand how Lucy, not much older than she was now, had fallen for him. He was so good-looking, so charming, so well mannered – and young Fay had taken to him in a big way.

  Molly knew a picnic spot, an ideal outing for her final day with Fay and Matthew. ‘We always came here, the convent girls, on the last days of term each July. The air is so good on the crest of the knoll, but if the wind is strong, it can nearly blow your head off. Once we flew a kite, but I got the string all tangled in a bush and Sister said, “Trust Molly Sparkes.” ’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Matthew commented, walking with loping strides, his daughter riding on his shoulders, supported by the canvas picnic bag on his back. Molly almost had to skip to keep up.

  They had travelled here by bus, but there was a winding path to traverse before they began the steeper climb up the springy grass, dotted all over with what Fay called ‘rabbit currants’. Near the top, under a rather stunted tree, Matthew gallantly spread his jacket for the girls to sit down on.

  ‘You’ve squashed the sandwiches, sitting on them like that, Fay,’ Molly observed, unwrapping the greaseproof paper packages. ‘Still, you’ve done a good job of cracking the hard-boiled eggs.’

  ‘You’re worse than she is,’ Matthew told her, amused. He lightly flicked some tomato pips from the yoke of her pale green summer dress, then moved a little further away. Molly obviously had no idea how attractive she was, with her light hair feathering in the promised breeze; how young and unexpectedly disturbing she was at that moment to one who had not looked at another woman since his brief marriage and cruel loss. ‘But I wish I could persuade you to stay on with us, you know. Fay will miss you so much.’