Molly's Journey

by Sheila Newberry

  ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ he teased.

  ‘She’ll be so pleased, I know, when she gets my letter. I wonder why we haven’t heard from her yet? I thought we’d find a letter waiting for us here.’

  Not just a childish thump on the front door this time, more an irate battering with fists, followed by kicking with heavy boots: they sat looking at each other in dismay for a long moment.

  Then Art pushed back his chair. ‘I’d better see who this is,’ he said grimly.

  Nancy caught at his sleeve. ‘Art, I reckon it’s my dad. He attacks the door like that when Ma locks him out and he gets real mad. Oh, Art, ignore it.’

  The hammering intensified, and they now heard a hoarse bellow: ‘Nancy! I know you’re there. Let me in.’

  ‘Stay where you are, Nancy, I’ll deal with him,’ Art told her.

  ‘He’ll be blind drunk—’

  ‘Then he won’t be able to aim straight.’

  ‘He’s much bigger than you,’ she cried in terror.

  Art opened the door, braced himself. ‘What do you want?’ he demanded of the burly figure swaying on the top step.

  ‘You the school teacher?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Wed my Nancy, did you? She only told me this mornin’ – said I’d’ve caused a commotion if I’d gone to the chapel—’

  ‘I imagine you would. I’m afraid Nancy doesn’t wish to speak to you.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ her father asked belligerently.

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘I haven’t seen her for years – heard she’d married another feller. What’s she doin’ back here with you?’

  ‘She’s my wife now, I’m proud to say. She’s also over twenty-one and doesn’t have to answer to you. If you have any decent feelings at all, you’ll go away and leave her alone. I know exactly what you put her through, but she’s suffered enough for it. I’m going to make sure she has a happy, secure life from now on. Hitting you would relieve my feelings, but I’m not going to upset her. She doesn’t want any more violence. Just go. Now.’

  He closed the door slowly and the other man lurched off down the path.

  ‘Art – you stood up to him! He didn’t take a swing at you.’ Nancy was in a state of shock.

  ‘I believe I’ve laid your final ghost, Nancy darling,’ he said. He hoped fervently that she was unaware that he sat down so suddenly because his legs were buckling. ‘I think I deserve another cup of tea, don’t you?’ He just about managed a smile. He’d never been one for fighting, not even at school being a natural swot, but had redeemed himself in the other boys’ eyes by becoming rather a joker; they’d liked him for that. However, where Nancy was concerned, he’d protect her to the ends of the earth.

  ‘You were wonderful!’ she said softly.

  *

  ‘Nancy,’ he murmured later, when they lay once more in the hollow in the middle of their feather-filled nest.

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘I haven’t, well, expected too much of you, too soon, I hope?’

  ‘No, Art, you haven’t. What you said after you saw Dad off, ‘bout laying ghosts – well, you have. I should have known, when I let you go all those years ago that I was making a mistake.’

  ‘We were both very young then, Nancy. I fancied myself as a bit of a lad, and you – you weren’t ready for me, after all you’d been through. It’s very different now, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s perfect, Art, perfect.’

  *

  Nancy’s ma was waiting fearfully for her husband to return. He’d flung her across the room when he’d found out about Nancy and Art. She nursed her bruised arm, almost oblivious to the pain. Since the boys had left home, one after the other, she’d borne the brunt of his violence. Her own mother had warned her she shouldn’t marry him, but by then she was heavily pregnant and had thought, in her naivety, that fatherhood would sober him up. His sons took after him – the only thing that kept her going was her little daughter, Nancy. Later had come the terrible realisation of what she seemed powerless to stop.

  She hadn’t bolted the door. What was the point? She had no illusions about what was coming – he’d been drinking all day. What had happened at the schoolhouse? He looked a gentle type, Nancy’s new husband, while hers had been a pugilist in his youth. Were the two of them lying battered and beaten at this moment?

  He came in at last; looked at her cowering in the corner of the room. ‘Goin’ to bed,’ he muttered. He had a bottle in his hand.

  She found her voice, some strength. ‘You didn’t dare – you – I’ll kill you if you did!’

  ‘I ain’t touched ‘em. Let ‘em get on with it. Not worth getting fired up about. Get me some grub, woman.’

  ‘Get it yourself!’ she shouted, then pushed past him. ‘And you can sleep down here, you drunken beast – you’re not coming near me till you sober up! If you hurt me again, I’ll have the law on you, and I won’t stop at telling them what you’ve done to me, either. You’ll rot in jail!’ She’d always believed a wife couldn’t give evidence against her husband, but by the open-mouthed alarm on his face she realised that he was unaware of that. There was one final thing she had to say: ‘And I shall go and see Nancy whenever I want to, and you’re not going to stop me!’

  She went upstairs, head held high. He didn’t follow. She fell on her knees beside the bed and prayed, then sat with tears of relief rolling down her cheeks, laughing helplessly at the way he’d looked when she’d stood up to him at last.

  EIGHT

  Molly was packing again. It was time to leave Nancy and Art; to free Nancy, she thought, of the responsibility, for she realised with a pang that was what it had become, of always being there for Almond and herself. She wanted, more than anything, for her friends to seize this second chance of happiness without worrying about anyone else.

  She put a few things to one side that she would no longer need: Elfie might be glad of them for the mission box. She hesitated over the worn jodhpurs, then tucked them at the bottom of the trunk together with the pink tights with darned toes which she had foolishly packed for sentimental reasons, to remind her of the circus. She had pictured herself, before she left England, displaying these, with a flash of the old impish grin, to Rory. But, of course, that would not have done at all. Why was she always so naive?

  Three lovers – well, perhaps only one could really be called that – had rejected her in swift succession. The one she had languished over for far too long, Henning, she thought ruefully, had been the most tactful, the least hurtful; Matthew had decided to draw an abrupt, firm line under their friendship; Rory – maybe she shouldn’t have come back into his life at all. Almond at last knew her father, that was good, but she might never see him again after they returned home, which was surely wrong. And at such a tender age, as she grew up it was likely she would retain few memories, if any, of him.

  A tap on the door; a smiling Nancy. ‘Need any help?’

  ‘Nearly done, thanks,’ Molly replied. ‘What’s Almond up to? I haven’t seen her for at least ten minutes.’ She suddenly panicked.

  ‘Elfie’s wrapped her in an enormous apron, letting her mix up some buns at the kitchen table – and before you say it, can you imagine Elfie not washing her hands for her before she began? Mind you, she’s very good with Almond when you think how awkward she was with Fay.’ Nancy looked closely at her friend. ‘What’s up, Molly? You’re not crying surely?’

  ‘Not really, just being rather pessimistic, I suppose.’ As if she was Almond’s age, Molly wiped her tears away on her sleeve, then rubbed at the glistening marks with a finger.

  ‘I’ve got time to listen,’ Nancy offered. ‘Art’s at school, and not being Elfie, I can finish my housework in half an hour – I don’t dust Art’s books, of course, what’s the point? He’s just as untidy as he was in Accounts when we first knew him – and just as clever! If I lost his place, he’d be cross.’

  ‘He couldn’t be cross with you, Nancy.’

>   ‘Not yet, maybe! Not while the wedding glow lasts, eh? Actually, it’s lovely. We’re right back to where we were before. He teases me and makes me laugh about the silliest things. Hey! You really are crying now. Come on, out with it?’

  ‘Nothing goes right for me lately. I know it’s my own fault, but I can’t seem to change—’

  ‘None of us wants you to, Molly dear. How many times do I have to tell you that? We love you just as you are. Look how my life has turned round: I can still hardly believe it! But even when I’m so happy, I still feel guilty for leaving Alexa when she was so low, even though she urged us to. And I keep worrying about you two travelling all that way without me, but—’

  ‘Now you must put yourself first for once, Nancy Gray!’

  ‘Nancy Gray. It sounds good, doesn’t it?’

  ‘It does; a new name, a new life – will it ever be like that for me?’

  ‘Of course it will,’ Nancy comforted her. ‘When you’re down, as they say, well, you can only go up – think of that, Molly Sparkes!’

  ‘Sparkes, Sparkes, Sparkes!’ Almond chanted, bursting in on them with hands all floury, and Elfie in hot pursuit. ‘I’m Almond Sparkes Kelly – my daddy said so!’

  *

  Henning drove Molly and Almond to the station to commence the first stage of the long journey. Nancy and Elfie came along for the ride.

  ‘Now you mind what I said,’ Nancy told Almond as Molly began to hug them all in turn. ‘Quiet as a mouse, all the way.’

  ‘I hope we meet again one of these days,’ Henning said gallantly. ‘I don’t forget you.’ He kissed the top of her head in what Molly could only think of as an avuncular fashion.

  She turned to Elfie. ‘Thank you for putting up with my daughter, Elfie,’ she said ruefully.

  ‘I enjoyed it, Molly. I shall miss you both very much, and so will Ernst.’ Elfie was obviously sincere. ‘Still, I’ll have Nancy close by; one of Alexa’s girls, as I always think of you.’

  ‘Don’t forget to read Alexa’s letter on the train; we’re saving ours for when we get back, to enjoy over a nice cup of coffee,’ Nancy reminded her. ‘We’ve waited long enough for news, haven’t we?’ The postman had delivered separate bulky letters to the three of them, Molly, Nancy and Elfie, as they were about to leave the mission, which was fortuitous otherwise Molly’s letter would have had to be sent on to Melbourne.

  ‘I won’t. Nancy, suppose Rory isn’t at home, hasn’t had my letter? Suppose there’s no one to meet me the other end?’

  ‘Then just hail a cab and go to Serena’s anyway! She’ll be pleased to see you.’ Nancy hugged her so tightly she almost squeezed the breath out of her. She whispered: ‘Stop worrying, Molly. Remember how you were capable of taking just one painful step at a time when you struggled out of that hospital bed after Almond was born? You got there in the end, didn’t you?’ She kissed her warmly, then spoke up normally. ‘Off you go, you two, with our love, Art’s and mine – and don’t forget to write!’

  *

  They had been travelling for more than two hours when Almond finally settled down with a picture book, leaning against her mother. Molly took the letter from her bag. Strange: the envelope looked as if it had been opened and re-sealed, she thought. Alexa must have thought of something else to say. The writing was uncharacteristically uneven, as if the writer’s hand was shaky. It was undated.

  Dearest Molly,

  This will, I believe, be the last letter I shall write to you. Please read on before you get too upset . . .

  By now you will have met Rory again and I hope all went well. As for Nancy, I am looking forward to the news of her impending marriage to Arthur. I always thought very highly of that young man while he was in my employ. Then the first of my hopes for you girls would be fulfilled. I hope that, in due course, they will be blessed with a family; Nancy has cared for, so lovingly, first dear Fay, and lately little Almond. My only regret is that I will not be with her on her special day.

  Somehow, I don’t think it will be long before you, too, are fulfilled in a happy partnership. I was sorry you decided against Matthew, but, as I told him some time ago, I thought you would not agree to marry him. I believe you are, though, ready to commit yourself to – forgive me for being, just once, sentimental! – true love.

  And while I am feeling thus, I want to say that although you sometimes have me sighing over your impulsiveness, our friendship, and your staunch support have meant so very much to me and it was a real wrench to part with you when I despatched you to Australia. All right, I’ll put it in writing: Lucy was irreplaceable, but you and Nancy, nevertheless, became like daughters to me, too. Thank you for your generous gift of love, Molly. Always remember I loved you in return, you and my honorary granddaughter.

  I enclose a copy of my will. As I told you before, Fay, Nancy and yourself are the main beneficiaries.

  You will see that I have set aside an amount to help Elfie and Ernst in their good works. I provided for my loyal employees at the House of Leather when I sold the business; I stipulated that the new owners keep them on.

  There is but one change: my accommodation here at Wren’s Nest will, with the kind agreement of Matthew, always be available to you, for as long as you like, if ever you have need of it.

  Try to smile, for Almond’s sake, when the news is confirmed, won’t you? But I know that, being Molly, you will shed tears for me anyway.

  Time to say goodbye.

  Fondest love,

  Alexa

  Slowly, Molly refolded the letter. She could not look at the enclosed document now. As she was about to insert the letter in the envelope, she noticed another sheet of paper, a second letter. It was dated the day after they had embarked for Australia. Why had these letters taken so long to reach them?

  Dear Molly,

  I am sorry to have to write with sad news. Alexa passed peacefully away last night. I was with her at the end. I discovered these letters awaiting posting on her bedside table, and took the liberty of opening, but not reading yours, in order to enclose this note.

  You will forgive the brevity, I know, because this happened sooner than we thought it would although it was inevitable. I know that she kept the serious nature of her illness from you. She was so determined that you should go to Australia once more.

  We will arrange flowers from you and Almond. Alexa will be laid to rest with Lucy.

  With love and best wishes,

  Matthew

  Postscript: On reading the letter Alexa left for me, I have delayed relaying this sad news for a while. She wanted you to seek, and find, your happy ending first. Please let me know that, indeed, you did.

  ‘Mummy, Mummy!’ Almond was plucking at her sleeve. ‘Will you read to me?’

  Alexa had urged her not to be sad. Resolutely, Molly put the letters back into her bag, and brought out another book. ‘The Tailor of Gloucester – you like that one, don’t you?’

  ‘No more twist,’ Almond said cheerfully, as the mice said in Beatrix Potter’s story.

  No more Alexa, Molly thought; but I can’t tell Almond that yet, or I really will cry and alarm the whole carriage.

  *

  She alighted from the final train, holding tightly on to her daughter, while a helpful man passed out her luggage to the porter. She stood there, blinking as if she had been asleep, praying someone would come. Nancy was right, it was difficult for her to cope on her own.

  As she swayed on her feet, a steadying arm went round her shoulders and Rory said quietly: ‘Come over here to this seat, you look all in . . . ’

  ‘Daddy!’ Almond squealed in delight.

  ‘Hang on to my other arm,’ he told her. ‘We must see to your mummy before I give you a great big hug to show how pleased I am to see you. Both of you,’ he added.

  Molly sipped tea, brought by the porter; Almond raided Rory’s pocket for sweets and was not disappointed.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Molly said at last. ‘You got my letter, then?’

&
nbsp; ‘I got all your letters, Molly. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring myself to write back.’

  ‘That’s all right.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. But I had a lot to think about. Do you feel less wobbly? I’ll ask the porter to call a cab, shall I?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘I’m taking you to a hotel – I’ll explain later. You’ll see Mum very soon, I hope. She sent her love. So did Sarah.’

  Oh, she thought. Sarah doesn’t want me there, now they’re married. I can understand that.

  In the cab, she closed her eyes, leaning away from him. Almond sat on his lap, talking nineteen to the dozen.

  ‘When did you get married?’ she heard herself say.

  ‘I haven’t, not yet. I’ve obtained a special licence, though.’

  ‘This isn’t a good time for me to come – be honest, Rory?’

  ‘We’ll see,’ he said. ‘Here we are, I hope this meets with your approval. Don’t worry about the cost, I did a very good deal with my stones. I guess I’m wealthy for five minutes. Anyway, the Manager is a cousin of mine.’

  Molly opened her eyes, allowed herself to be helped from the cab. She stood looking up a grand sweep of steps. ‘This must be the best hotel in Melbourne!’ she exclaimed.

  Rory chuckled as he paid off the driver. ‘Not quite, but I haven’t stayed anywhere as grand as this before, either.’

  ‘You’re staying here, too? I don’t understand.’

  ‘I thought it would be nice to spend some time on my own with my daughter – you, too, of course. Can you manage the steps? Feeling better?’

  ‘Feeling better.’ she assured him.

  They had connecting rooms. ‘I hope you don’t mind? This suite is for a family, I’m told,’ he commented. ‘You’ll be sharing with Almond, of course, as there are two beds in this room and only a double in the other. But, look, there are dining facilities in my room, and space for Almond to play. You could have a nice rest before dinner while I amuse her, if you like. Are you sure you’re all right?’ He looked at her anxiously.