A Daughter's Journe

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘No. This’ll do for the time being and when I do buy a new one, it really will be new – and so will your best dress.’

  ‘Don’t talk daft. I don’t need new clothes, just respectable, hard-wearing ones. I’d rather save money than spend it. This outfit was a real bargain. It’ll last me for years if I’m careful.’

  He shook his head over that. She was certainly respectably clad, but the rusty brown skirt and jacket didn’t suit her pale complexion at all and looked as if they’d belonged to her grandmother. Even he, who knew nothing about women’s fashions, realised she ought to be wearing lighter colours, blue to match her eyes maybe. He liked her in blue. And surely her skirt should be shorter? Other younger women’s were. It seemed as if Enid had stopped trying to look pretty since they adopted the children, as if she no longer cared about herself.

  She’d stopped laughing and having fun with him, too. He missed that.

  He still wondered if she was quite well. But he’d asked her again today and she’d nearly bitten his head off, all her attention being focused on making sure the children looked their best. He’d keep his eyes open from now on, though, and drag her to the doctor’s if necessary. Like most mothers, she placed her own health last in the family: breadwinner, children, mother, that’s the order it went in when it came to paying for a doctor’s advice. Well, not in his family, thank you very much.

  ‘Come on, then. I’ll drive us down to Birch End.’

  ‘We could walk and save the petrol,’ she ventured.

  ‘It’d use up four people’s shoe leather and the children’s clothes will get dusty.’

  ‘Hmm. I suppose you’re right.’

  He heard her mutter, ‘This time,’ which wasn’t fair but he said nothing.

  The children were excited to have a ride in the new van and insisted on clambering into it themselves. They sat on the old sofa cushions he’d put in the back, one at each side, and then they held on to the loops of rope he’d fixed to the sides, beaming at him as he closed the back doors of the van on them.

  He drove there carefully with such a precious cargo on board, whistling cheerfully, looking forward to the tea party. Surely that would cheer his wife up a bit.

  Enid said nothing, sitting stiffly beside him, clutching her worn old handbag, which she’d tried to smarten up with black shoe polish, but whose leather still looked scruffy and battered. Why couldn’t she spend just a few shillings here and there on improving her appearance? It didn’t take much to make a difference if you bought second-hand and they weren’t scratching for every farthing now.

  They all stood still after they got out of the van, staring at Mrs Morton’s large, comfortable house. ‘This row of houses wasn’t built by Higgerson,’ Wilf said. ‘You can see the difference, can’t you?’

  ‘It’s one of Roy Tyler’s, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. He was a good builder, but he’s neglected his business since his son died in an accident on a building site.’ Some said it was no accident, but Wilf didn’t tell her that. ‘Roy still does small building jobs but he used to be the biggest builder in the valley. Pity.’

  He stared a moment longer, then took Ronnie’s hand. ‘Come on, everyone.’ Leading the way up the steps to the front door, he rang the bell.

  The maid Mona opened the door today, smiling at them. ‘Do come in, everyone. The mistress is expecting you. I’ll hang up your coats, shall I?’

  When she’d done that for the adults, she bent down and spoke directly to the children. ‘And who are you two? What are your names?’

  ‘Peggy.’

  Ronnie hid behind his sister, so the girl whispered to Mona, ‘He’s Ronnie but he’s only little an’ he’s a bit shy.’

  ‘Well, you’re a clever sister and I’m sure you look after him.’

  Peggy nodded vigorously.

  ‘Give me your coats and hats, then.’ As Mona finished hanging them up, a door opened to one side and Mrs Morton came out to greet them.

  ‘I couldn’t wait any longer to meet the children. And it’s so silly for me to sit in state in the parlour waiting for you to be shown in when you’re just the other side of the door.’

  Mona shook her head fondly, as if she’d half expected this, but said nothing.

  Wilf had to put his arm round Enid to get her to move forward, introducing her and the children, then going into the parlour with their hostess.

  He heard Enid sigh at what they saw. Well, it was a lovely room, a bit old-fashioned but with good, well-polished furniture and pretty ornaments, with little lacy mats under the vases on side tables. And there was a highly polished brass fender in front of the fire, a beautiful piece of work, that. Eh, it must be wonderful to live in a place like this.

  One day, he said to himself. One day. If I have to drag Enid into it screaming.

  Next to a low table in the bay window there was a wicker laundry basket full of toys. Mrs Morton pointed to it. ‘These toys are a bit old-fashioned because they belonged to my son when he was little. It always seems so unfair at tea parties to expect children to sit and do nothing while the grown-ups chat.’

  She beckoned to the two children and Wilf wasn’t surprised when they went to her without hesitation. She had a knack of setting people at ease.

  ‘These are for you two to play with. You can do what you like with them.’

  They looked at their mother, as if asking for permission to do this.

  ‘I don’t want them to break anything,’ Enid said hesitantly.

  Wilf realised suddenly that she was the shyest person here, not the children. How strange.

  Mrs Morton smiled at her reassuringly. ‘They’re old and mostly soft toys, Mrs Pollard, and they’ve already been played with a thousand times. There’s nothing left to break, and if there was, it wouldn’t matter. Come and sit down on the sofa with me so that you and I can have a nice chat and get to know one another.’

  But it was Wilf and their hostess who did most of the chatting. Enid listened and nodded from time to time, but it was clear that she was keeping an eye on the children, still worrying about what they might do.

  Wilf shot Mrs Morton a quick rueful glance when his wife wasn’t looking and she gave a slight shrug, as if to say it didn’t matter.

  When the clock chimed four, Mona came in to say tea was ready and they all followed their hostess into another room at the back of the house.

  ‘I thought the children would be more comfortable eating their tea in the morning room than trying to balance plates on their knees,’ Mrs Morton told Enid. ‘It’s where I eat most of my meals these days.’

  ‘Oh yes. Thank you. I do agree, but I’ll make sure they’re careful.’

  Wilf could see his wife looking round as if to check for traps. If only she’d relax a little, she might enjoy herself as the children were doing.

  Mrs Morton handed round dainty sandwiches and miniature pies that seemed made for small hands. The children ate heartily and so did Wilf. He hadn’t had such a good meal for ages. Enid picked at her food and continued to focus most of her attention on the children, occasionally interrupting to tell them to do this or not do that.

  Their pleasure visibly declined at this constant bombardment of instructions and in the end Wilf could stand it no longer. ‘Leave them to eat in peace now, Enid, and finish your own food. It’s too delicious to do anything but enjoy it.’

  She threw him a quick scowl and after that sat mainly silent, still only picking at what was on her plate.

  When they’d finished eating, Mrs Morton swept them back into the parlour, where the grown-ups were offered a glass of sherry and the children a glass of the wonderful ginger beer made by Todd’s wife at her small fizzy drinks factory.

  Wilf was touched that Mrs Morton had spent some of her limited spare money on this treat, because Spring Cottage Mineral Waters were more expensive than ordinary fizzy drinks, aimed at people who still had money to buy fancy stuff, rather than ordinary folk.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Mo
rton. The kids will love that. Better give Enid a taste of sherry first, like you did me. She’s not had it before and she might not like it.’

  It was soon clear that Enid didn’t really like the sherry and didn’t know how to say so politely, so Wilf took the glass off her and said, ‘I think you’d enjoy a ginger beer more than this, wouldn’t you, love?’

  She nodded, looking embarrassed.

  Mrs Morton immediately poured her a glass of fizzing ginger beer.

  Wilf tipped the remainder of Enid’s sherry into his own glass and winked at his hostess. ‘Too good to waste.’

  She raised her glass to him in a toast to that.

  When a break in the conversation and silence from the bay window area made him look towards the children, he saw that they’d fallen asleep, curled up together on the thick, soft rug.

  ‘Eh, I wish I had a camera,’ he murmured. ‘What a picture they make.’

  Mrs Morton spoke equally quietly, ‘I have a little Brownie camera and I think there’s some film still in it. If we switch on all the lights, it may be bright enough to take a snap.’

  She tiptoed round, getting ready, then raised the camera and took a couple of snaps, then turned round and photographed Wilf and Enid. ‘There, that’s my film used up. I’ll have to take it to the chemist on Monday to be developed. If the photos turn out all right, I’ll get you copies.’

  ‘Thanks. I’d like that.’ Wilf looked towards the children, wondering if he should wake them.

  ‘Let them sleep,’ Mrs Morton whispered. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve had the treat of watching a sleeping child, and your two are such dears, waking or sleeping. You keep them very nice, I must say, Mrs Pollard, and they have excellent manners for children so young.’

  Enid softened visibly at that double compliment, but she still seemed overawed by her surroundings and left Wilf and Mrs Morton to carry most of the burden of conversation. Not that it was a burden. Their hostess was very easy to chat to.

  When the children woke up, they said their goodbyes and thanked Mrs Morton, then put on their outdoor clothes.

  Wilf drove them slowly home, feeling the tea party had gone well. He glanced at Enid. ‘Mrs Morton’s a lovely woman, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And the food was delicious.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What the hell’s the matter now?’

  ‘I’m tired, that’s all. I was worried the whole time we were there in case the kids broke something or showed us up.’

  ‘Mrs Morton wouldn’t have minded. She’s lonely. Couldn’t you see how much she enjoyed having us?’

  ‘Enjoyed showing off how rich she was, more like.’

  He was astonished and didn’t even try to answer that unfair comment. He was deeply disappointed in Enid’s behaviour today. What had brought on this reaction to the visit and why the suspicious attitude?

  As she got the children ready for bed, Enid grew even more tight-lipped as Ronnie and Peggy discussed the visit and excitedly re-lived it. It was as if she didn’t want them to be happy anywhere but at home, with her, Wilf thought. What had those years of hardship, together with her inability to have a child, done to her?

  He was at his wits’ end as to how to deal with her lately. Whatever he did seemed to upset her. All he knew for certain was, he wasn’t having Ronnie and Peggy shut up in the house for the rest of their childhoods. Nor were any of them going to go short of food if they had enough money to buy some.

  29

  O n that Saturday afternoon, Clarence came into his wife’s bedroom and said abruptly, ‘I’m making arrangements to visit a certain house again and stay overnight. Probably on Monday.’

  He laughed, a nasty harsh sound. ‘And I’m fed up of trying to pretend about what I need. If you weren’t so useless in bed, I wouldn’t have to get my pleasure elsewhere, so why should I hide it? All men have these needs, you know, and so do normal women. Which you’re not.’

  He grabbed her suddenly by the throat, something he hadn’t done for a while, and squeezed hard. She couldn’t breathe and this time she thought he was going to kill her. She panicked, scrabbling at him, making gurgling noises. But he didn’t let his grip slacken until she had stopped struggling and was sagging helplessly against him.

  ‘Let that be a warning to you, Gertrude. Not a word to anyone about what I do, especially the servants. I don’t want word of my absence from home to get round. I’ll probably stay overnight, have a few drinks and come back on Tuesday. As far as you’re concerned, I will have been at home all Monday evening and in your bed all night, and so you’ll tell anyone who asks.’

  She nodded out of sheer terror and at long last he pushed her away. She staggered to one side, rubbing her throat, which felt bruised, wondering why he was suddenly acting like this. What had got into him lately? He was acting like a madman.

  He smirked. ‘You’ll need to wear a high-necked blouse for a few days. I don’t want you bringing Edna into this, either, so make sure she doesn’t see it. But every time you look in the mirror, that will remind you of your duty of obedience to me.’

  She forced herself to nod and lower her gaze in a submissive way. Did he really think the servants thought he shared her bed on these occasions? They were well aware that he never slept in her bed and that he spent the occasional night away, especially her personal maid.

  And inevitably Edna knew, too. His cousin was a fool, but not blind. He was only keeping her here because he wanted to find a way to get his hands on her money, Gertrude was sure.

  He was humming loudly as he left the house and got into the car to be driven to his office.

  She watched him go from her bedroom window, filled with loathing. He didn’t usually work on Saturdays, so she knew something was being planned. She rubbed her neck, which was still throbbing painfully.

  It was time to do something about him. She couldn’t go on like this.

  All she could think of was to get word to that nice sergeant about this and hope he could trap her husband. She didn’t want any of the staff involved in taking messages, and certainly not Edna, so would have to find a way to see Deemer herself.

  Clarence could easily have killed her tonight. Perhaps one day he would. Unless she stopped him for good.

  She summoned her maid and showed her the bruised neck, telling her that Mr Rathley had just done it, telling her that she was frightened for her life.

  ‘I daren’t defy him, ma’am. I just daren’t.’

  ‘I know. But I wanted someone to know.’

  She made sure the blouse slipped and Edna saw the bruising later, telling her, too, what Clarence had done.

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘Who else could have done it, do you think? I couldn’t do it to myself and I haven’t left the house this morning, have I?’

  ‘Oh. Oh, no! What did you do to make him so angry?’

  ‘You don’t need to make him angry when he’s in this mood. He likes hurting people. You’ll find that out one day. He’s been surprisingly kind to you so far. One day he’ll pounce on you, it’s inevitable, and you know what men want from women when they’re in that mood.’

  Edna turned white and hardly said a word for the rest of the morning.

  Because one of Rathley’s men was married to his cousin Lallie, Piper wondered if he could manage to find out for Sergeant Deemer what was being planned and when for.

  Piper had warned Lallie against marrying Bill, but she’d been mad for him in those days. Pity she’d not listened to his advice. Bill had changed after they married. He wouldn’t gab to anyone else about what he was doing, but Piper knew Bill didn’t bother to keep his mouth shut in his own home, confident that his wife was too afraid of him to tell anyone.

  Lallie had told Piper once or twice how Bill had forced her to tell the police he’d been at home with her when he hadn’t. Now, he always told her to stay at home when he was about to do what he called ‘a special job’, usually for Rathley.


  Would Bill be involved this time? Only one way to find out: ask Lallie. Piper couldn’t visit her at home because Bill had forbidden her to let him into the house. So, it being Saturday, he went into town and before long saw her walking slowly and wearily along with her shopping basket over her arm. He’d guessed correctly.

  She looked upset and no wonder. She had a big bruise on one cheek. He could see it even from twenty yards away. She hadn’t seen him, so he nipped down a side street and hurried along it, overtaking her then bumping into her, seemingly by chance, as she left the main street.

  ‘Hello, Lallie love. Haven’t seen you for a while. Let’s get out of sight and have a chat.’

  She looked round, saw no one she recognised and followed him into a gateway.

  ‘Eeh, what did you do to your poor face?’

  ‘What did Bill do, you mean. He hit me again. He’s drinking more heavily than ever and I can guess where he’s getting the money from to do that, but he ought to make sure me an’ the kids are fed.’

  She touched her cheek and her eyes filled with tears. ‘He gets rough when he’s been drinking and wants a meal. If there’s nothing to eat, he thumps me – as if it’s my fault he’s not given me any money for food.’

  ‘You’d be better off without that one.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me that. You were right that I shouldn’t marry him, only I daren’t try to leave him now. He’d kill me if I did.’ She sighed and it turned into a sob. ‘I wish he were more like you, Piper. Your wife’s a lucky lass.’

  He heard her stomach rumble. ‘Short of money for food again, are you, love?’

  She nodded and rubbed her belly as if it hurt. ‘I’ve only enough to buy a stale loaf. If they have any cheap ones left, that is. If there aren’t any, he’ll clout me again.’

  ‘I haven’t got much to spare, but would a shilling be any use to you?’

  ‘You know it would. Eh, I’m that grateful, Piper.’

  ‘If you can’t help a cousin, who can you help? Um, do you want me to keep an eye on Bill? You don’t want him spending time in jail, do you? He’d come out twice as mean.’