A Daughter's Journe

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Peter got out as well. ‘I’ll wait at the corner of the street.’

  Jo walked down the narrow cobbled alley and knocked on the door at the end. Her heart was thumping and she hoped she wasn’t showing how nervous she was feeling.

  Bracing herself to do whatever was necessary, she knocked on the blue door again. And waited. Just as she was about to knock yet again, she heard footsteps coming closer.

  A woman opened the door, frowning to see her, then looked past Jo towards Nick. The woman’s hair was dyed an improbable shade of red and her face was plastered with make-up, but in spite of that, she looked pale and ill.

  ‘Go away. This is no place for your sort an’ I don’t need my soul saving.’

  ‘Are you Moira Tayner?’

  ‘What if I am?’

  ‘I think I may be a cousin of yours, second cousin anyway.’

  ‘I don’t care if you’re cousin to the king, I won’t put up with any lecturing and praying over me. Go away and leave me in peace.’

  ‘I won’t go away till you’ve heard me out.’

  When Moira tried to close the door on her, Jo put her foot in the way, saying quickly, ‘Look, I’m from Australia. My father died recently and he wanted me to find my relatives here in England. And that means you.’

  ‘Why in hell’s name did he want you to do that? I’ve never even met anyone from Australia.’

  ‘Because I don’t have any close relatives left there and because he thought they might need help.’

  ‘What sort of help? Are you going to dish out money to all your relatives? If so, you can give me some.’ She laughed as if this was a joke and then started coughing, a horrible hacking sound.

  ‘Can I please come in and talk to you, Moira?’

  ‘No.’ She continued to cough and tried once again to close the door, pushing at Jo and banging the door against her foot.

  Jo didn’t budge.

  ‘Mam, you need to come inside and sit down.’ A girl joined them, standing close to her mother and staring at Jo. She was plainly dressed, with her hair in two childish plaits, but that didn’t hide how pretty she was. She proved she’d been eavesdropping when she added, ‘And why are you trying to send this lady away if she’s a relative and wants to help us?’

  ‘That’s my own business. You get back inside, love.’ But turning sharply towards her daughter made Moira sway dizzily and she had to set her hand on the wall to steady herself.

  The girl put her arm round her. ‘Come and have a rest, love. I’ll talk to this lady.’

  Moira closed her eyes, then looked at Jo, and it seemed for a moment as if shame was warring with anger in her eyes, then her expression grew hard again. She tried to speak, but could only cough helplessly.

  ‘She’s not been well,’ the girl said. ‘Who are you again? Come inside and tell me why you’re here.’

  ‘Leave the door open,’ Nick called.

  The girl looked out of the door. ‘Is that your husband?’

  ‘No. Just a friend.’

  The girl led Jo into a room that smelled strongly of some sickly perfume and gestured to a chair. Moira flung herself on the sofa, struggling not to cough.

  ‘I’ll have to get some of her cough mixture.’

  ‘Just give me water to sip, Tess love. That cough mixture makes me feel dopey. I can’t afford that when I’m working or the sods will try to cheat me.’

  ‘You can afford to take a day or two off and get better properly. Let me look after you, Mam. I thought we’d agreed about that.’

  Moira ignored that and stared at Jo. ‘Why are you bothering? Your sort don’t usually care about women like me.’

  ‘I told you: because you’re my relatives.’ She explained how they were connected.

  Moira considered this, head on one side, then nodded. ‘Sounds as if you really are a relative, but I’m not going into a home for fallen women, thank you very much. They might be saving your soul but they don’t do much good for your body. They treat you like slaves in those places and they’d separate me and my Tess, probably send her out to be a housemaid. They’d not even tell me where she was, in case I corrupted her. I’ve spoken to people who’ve been in them places, so I know what they’re like.’

  ‘Why do you think I’d send you somewhere like that?’

  ‘Because that’s what respectable women always try to do to women like me.’ She sounded bitter and held out her hand to her daughter as she spoke.

  The girl took it and cradled it in both hers, looking at Jo. ‘No one’s going to take me away from Mam.’

  Jo frowned as she watched. The love between them shone out.

  Moira looked at her with such understanding of what she was thinking that Jo didn’t know what to say or do. Then it came to her. ‘What if I took you both away from here to Australia? Together. The sea journey and the warmer climate out there would probably do your health a world of good, Moira.’

  The woman looked at her very sharply. ‘Have you got that much money?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Hmm. But even if you paid our fares, how would we live when we got there?’

  ‘I’ve enough money to keep you for a while once we got there, and in reasonable comfort, too.’

  The woman couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘And you’d do that?’

  ‘Yes. I could help you get settled. I only came to England to bring my stepmother back to live near her family after my father died. I’m going back soon whether you go with me or not.’

  There was a long silence and Jo didn’t interrupt, but stood patiently waiting.

  Eventually, Moira looked up. ‘Well, you have surprised me. I’ll think about it, I really will. How do I get in touch with you?’

  ‘I’m staying at Mrs Tucker’s lodging house.’

  ‘Ha! She’d have a fit if I turned up there. She’d slam the door in my face.’

  ‘But if I told her what was going on, she’d let Tess or someone else bring a message for me, then Peter or Nick could bring me to see you again.’

  Another of those long silences followed, then, ‘I’ll definitely think about it. I’m tired now. See her out, then lock the front door, Tess love. You’re right. I’m not up to working tonight.’

  At the door, Jo said quietly, ‘She’s not well at all. Has she seen a doctor?’

  ‘No. She won’t. She just gets cough mixture from the chemist in Rivenshaw.’

  From Moira’s appearance, Jo was afraid it was too late for a doctor to help anyway. She’d seen others look like this. She kept her voice calm. ‘Come and fetch me if your mother needs my help, Tess. With anything. And talk to her about my offer. I meant what I said.’

  The girl looked at her and Jo realised yet again how pretty she was. She was nearly as tall as Jo but was still dressed like a child in unflattering and shabby clothes. With a bit of luck they were in time to save her.

  ‘I’m not leaving her,’ Tess said suddenly. ‘Whatever you want to arrange, I’m staying with Mam.’

  ‘You sound as if you love her very much.’

  ‘I do. She’s protected me from … a lot of bad things, things a lady like you wouldn’t know about. And at some cost to herself as well. She’s been the best mother she can.’

  Pity speared through Jo and sadness as it reminded her of her own loss. ‘My mother was the same, always doing her best for me. She died when I was about your age. I envy you still having yours.’

  Tess stared at her as if trying to see whether she meant this, then relaxed a little. ‘Yes. I think you do understand. Part of it anyway.’

  ‘And I really do want to help. We’re family.’

  ‘Hmm. We’ll see. Action speaks louder than words. I’ll let you know.’

  The girl took a step backwards and closed the door.

  Jo could only hope that she’d said the right thing.

  16

  H obbs had been keeping an eye on the alley since he saw the car stop nearby. He moved furthe
r back into the shadows as he watched the trio leave. Who the hell was the young woman he’d seen and why would someone like her want to visit Red Moira? She not only looked respectable but had been driven here by the Methodist minister. Decent women didn’t come to places like Packman Alley, let alone go inside one of the houses on their own.

  Was she was trying to save souls? He grinned at the thought of them attempting to do that with Red Moira. She’d soon give them what for. She could look after herself, that one could. Besides, that interfering Mrs Fernby would have gone inside with the young woman if that was the purpose of the visit, but she’d stayed in the car. The car hadn’t driven away, though; it had waited for the younger woman to come out again.

  He scowled in the direction the car had just taken. If you asked him, that particular minister’s wife should keep her nose out of other folk’s affairs. She’d encouraged his wife to defy him, damn her! And look what that had led to. Doris had got her sisters in to help and the bitches had thrown him out of his own home. He did occasional jobs for Mr Rathley but he’d not had much to do recently.

  With nothing better to occupy his time and not enough money to sit boozing, he kept watch at the end of the alley for a good two hours longer to see if anything else happened that night. There might be something to be gained from this situation, but he’d have to tread carefully. Red Moira was another uppity woman and you had to be careful how you spoke to her, even if you only met her in the corner shop. Someone should have beaten some sense into her years ago.

  If he could only work out what these people were planning, he might be able to take advantage of it, maybe sell some information to Mr Rathley. He stayed there to see if Moira opened up later, but though he waited until the corner shop closed, her lamp still didn’t go on in the window next to the blue door and no one tried to go in. The only people coming and going in the dimly lit alley were customers calling at the other two houses.

  He knew Red Moira charged more for her services than the other women did and had several regular gentlemen callers who were let in even when the light wasn’t switched on, including Rathley. He’d watched them go in and out many a time. He knew more than most folk about what was happening in Backshaw Moss. You had to if you wanted to find work.

  In the end the cold began to get to him, so he decided to give up for the night and walked along the street to the pub. The Packman’s Arms was set back a little from the road and wasn’t quite as tumbledown as the rest of the buildings round here. The place must be a ruddy goldmine, because it was full every night, even though people didn’t have as much money to spare and had to make their drinks last longer these days.

  It was past closing time now but the landlord rarely bothered to observe the legal hour for pubs to stop serving booze, at least when it came to regular customers. The front entrance to the pub was shut and locked, but that wasn’t the only way in, as the locals well knew. And there was even a way to escape if there was a police raid because of the after-hours drinking. You could squeeze past the dustbins into a narrow passage between backyards. It led to Packman Alley.

  Hobbs walked round to the back of the pub, showed his face to the doorman and was allowed inside. By counting out his pennies and halfpennies, he managed to buy a pint of beer but had to make it last so that he could stay in the warmth.

  He sighed in disappointment and drained the last of the beer when the landlord threw everyone out an hour later. Old Ronald didn’t like his customers all going out the same way, so like one or two others, Hobbs walked along the narrow ginnel to Packman Alley. He checked as he passed Number 3, he could see that there was still no light in the window, or anywhere else in the cramped little house.

  Red Moira didn’t often take a night off. She was up to something; he’d known that when he saw her going into the lawyer’s office in town. Now, why would she do that?

  He’d wondered whether to take that information to Rathley, but since he didn’t know why she’d gone there, he couldn’t see how that would benefit him. You had to be sure of what you were telling that sod. He’d had people beaten up for wasting his time.

  It was common knowledge among certain people that Rathley had his sights set on Moira’s daughter Tess. He liked them young.

  What was Red Moira plotting? Why go to a lawyer? Did she intend to sell her daughter to someone else? Rathley would make her sorry if she did that.

  A few people thought she might take the girl away before the inevitable happened, so fiercely had she looked after her over the years. But Hobbs didn’t believe that. Why would she take her daughter away when the girl was worth a fortune to her here? No one could be that stupid.

  He knocked on the door of his home and his wife stuck her head out of the window. ‘Can I come back, love? It’s a really cold night.’

  ‘Have you got any money for food?’

  ‘No, but I’ll get some tomorrow, I promise.’

  ‘Ha! I bet you had money for beer or you’d have come here earlier. You have kids going hungry, Kenneth Hobbs. You can’t come back here till you can help feed them.’

  ‘But Doris love—’

  ‘I’ve got a big stick and I’ll thump you good and hard if you try to get in. And my sisters are only two doors away. They’ll come running to help if I shout for them.’ She slammed the window shut.

  When Doris got that sharp tone in her voice, he knew better than to argue. He spat in her direction and went round to the shed at the back of his friend’s house, where he made himself as comfortable as he could on a pile of sacks, not for the first time. His belly rumbled with hunger, but it had been a choice between food or beer and a bit of company, and he knew which he preferred.

  There was no help for it: he’d have to find some way of earning a few shillings for food. That would have its compensations. He ate better when he was living at home. His wife could make the pennies spin out to buy food for the family better than anyone he knew. But the sort of jobs he could find were hard work, and often mucky work too.

  Still, going home would be better than sleeping here. He shivered. Much better.

  He sniffed and pulled a face. Ugh! Had his friend’s cat made a mess in here? No. It was the drains again. They were always getting blocked up. Once they got bad enough, the council would do something about them, but not before they had to.

  When Jo walked away from Number 3, she was glad to see her two escorts waiting for her. As she moved towards them, a man came into the alley, cap pulled down low to hide his face. She didn’t like the furtive look of him and hastily turned her head away because she didn’t want him to recognise her in future.

  He stopped to stare at her but as Nick took a step towards him, he hurried across into the middle house.

  ‘Hurry up, Jo. It’s starting to get busy here. Don’t say anything yet and keep your face hidden as much as you can. There’s another chap over there and we don’t want to be overheard.’ He jerked his head towards a doorway near the entrance to the alley where a man was leaning against the wall in the shadows, watching them.

  She heard the car engine start before they reached the vehicle and when she got in, her companions followed her without a word.

  The minister set off straight away. ‘I suggest we wait till we get home to discuss what you’ve found out. I need to concentrate on my driving on this narrow road and I may miss something you say that’s important.’

  Even after they left Backshaw Moss and the narrowest part of the road, they drove back down to Rivenshaw in silence. Jo was glad to have time to gather her thoughts together. Her mind was full of conflicting feelings about the situation and how best to help her relatives. Conventional morals said she ought to try to take the girl away from such a mother, but she’d seen their love for one another and would feel guilty doing that.

  And anyway, the two women she’d met weren’t poor helpless creatures needing to be guided and rescued, not in the way she’d expected, anyway. It just went to show how patronising her attitude had been before she
met them. They both seemed intelligent to her and like many others with jobs so scarce, were fighting for survival in a hostile world. The hard lessons of that were written on Moira’s face and on her daughter’s to a lesser extent. Tess might be young but her eyes betrayed an understanding of life that was a lot older than her years.

  The two women’s love for one another reminded Jo of how she’d felt about her own mother. That made an instant bond between them – on her side at least – and because of it, she felt even more determined to help Moira and Tess get away and start a new life together, whatever anyone else said or did, whatever she had to do and pay to achieve that.

  Surely that would be possible? Money didn’t do much good sitting in the bank, after all, not when there were people she could help with it.

  Once they arrived at the minister’s house, they were ushered inside so that Jo could tell them what had happened. She went over it, trying hard to make them understand the love between mother and daughter.

  To her dismay Mrs Fernby was adamant that the only way to save the girl and give her a decent life was to take her away from such a mother.

  Jo didn’t say it, but the discussion only made her more determined to help both women and not by shutting the mother up in a home for fallen women, either. In the end she said simply, ‘Well, Moira is going to send a message to Mrs T’s when she’s made up her mind whether to accept my help. I don’t think we can do anything till we hear from her.’

  Mrs Fernby stared at her in surprise. ‘But surely we ought to make plans for where to send the girl? I already know of a home for women like the mother near Rochdale, where the matron will see that this Moira woman leads a decent, hard-working life in future.’

  Years of dealing with her stepmother had taught Jo to avoid making specific comments in advance about what she intended to do. ‘My cousin hasn’t decided what she wants to do yet and we can’t kidnap the girl, after all.’