Looking Back

by Looking Back (retail) (epub)

  ‘Thank God you’re back!’ Not wanting to face the ordeal of church, especially with the eyes of Father Maguire on him, Frank had reluctantly agreed to watch the children until Molly returned. Now he was cursing himself for having been so reckless. ‘It’s been a bloody nightmare!’ he exclaimed, grabbing his coat and making for the door. ‘The little devils won’t behave. They fight and carry on like lunatics, an’ they mek so much noise a man can’t hear himself think straight.’ He didn’t ask her about the funeral; didn’t spare a thought for her feelings. Selfish through and through, was Frank Tattersall.

  Before Molly could answer, he was out the door and away to the nearest pub, where he tried to gather his sanity and reflect on what had happened in his own life and in the life of the Craig family. He had been badly shaken by the end of that poor young lass. A bonny thing she was, he recalled. Many was the time she would come in and out of the house, leaving Molly either laughing or pulling her hair out.

  Life was a puzzling old thing, and lately he was beginning to realise it couldn’t be sorted out from the bottom end of a pint glass.

  Molly had never seen her father move so swiftly. ‘What have you been doing to your dad?’ Leading the four youngsters into the parlour, she wagged a finger. ‘I hope you haven’t been playing him up?’

  ‘We didn’t do nothing!’ Milly was quite indignant. ‘We only played hide and seek like always, and Eddie cried because he was hungry, and Daddy couldn’t find his bottle.’

  ‘I told him where it was.’ Molly had gone to great pains to make sure everything had been left as it should be. ‘It was soaking in the saucepan of water. I told your dad I’d already scalded it, and all it needed was a good rinse.’

  Bertha giggled. ‘Georgie told him that, but when he went to the scullery he dropped the pan, and the bottle rolled under the sink and he had to scald it all over again. He wasn’t going to though, until Georgie said he’d tell you if he didn’t.’

  ‘It weren’t our fault if Eddie kept on screaming an ’ screaming,’ Georgie declared with a grown-up sigh.

  Molly glanced at Eddie, who by now was fast asleep in his pram. She gave a chuckle. It was wonderful, she thought, how children could make you smile through your tears.

  Bertha made her laugh out loud, though. ‘Why did he run off like that?’

  ‘Because he’s a man,’ Molly replied with a smile. ‘And because you lot frightened the pants off him.’

  Satisfied, they ran off to resume their game of hide and seek, the yelling and screaming getting so loud that Molly had to reprimand them. ‘Ssh, not so noisy. You’ll wake the bairn!’

  She could see why her dad couldn’t wait to get out, especially if Eddie had been screaming for his bottle an’ all. ‘Poor man!’ The image of him running out the door made her laugh again.

  Then another, stronger image came to mind: the haunting memory of Sandra, sitting in that very chair, telling her how much she loved Dave, and how she was carrying his child. Now Molly was consumed with guilt. ‘Oh, lass. How was I to know the fella you were trying to track down was the same one our Lottie had settled for?’

  Going to the sideboard, she took down the letter received from Lottie only the day before:

  I’m sorry, Molly. Me and Dave want to say our goodbyes to Sandra, but we can’t face coming to St Mary’s.

  We’ll go into the church in Bridport and light a candle. I’m so sorry, and Dave is, too. Later on, we’ll come and see you. But not yet. It’s too soon.

  Please tell Rosie how sorry we are. She’s a good woman, and a good friend to you… a better friend than I’ve been.

  I do love you both,

  Lottie

  XXX

  Molly replaced the letter in its envelope. ‘Funny how things turn out,’ she murmured. ‘Sandra and Lottie… both loving the same fella.’

  It had all come as a big shock. ‘Did you tell him, Sandra?’ she murmured. ‘Did you tell him about the bairn?’

  As for herself, she had told no one. Not even Rosie, though during this past week there had been times when she had come close to it. But each time, the thought of her promise to Sandra had kept her silent.

  When Rosie came round some half an hour later, it was to talk about Sandra. ‘I’ve a confession to make.’ Settling herself into the chair, she refused when Molly offered her a brew. ‘No, lass. I’ve something to tell you, and I’d better do it quick or sure I might not tell ye at all.’

  Molly’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Whatever is it?’ In that brief, unguarded second, when Rosie looked at her with such distress, Molly was convinced it had something to do with Alfie.

  Her fears were unfounded. ‘It’s Sandra.’ Rosie sat on the edge of the chair, fiddling with her fingers and wondering how to begin. ‘You know I had to go and see the coroner and all that dreadful business?’

  Molly nodded her acknowledgement.

  ‘The coroner… he…’ Catching her breath she went on, ‘He told me that our Sandra was with child.’

  Suddenly she was crying, and Molly had to comfort her. ‘Can you imagine that? She was having a bairn and she never told me… her own mam, who loved her in spite of all her goings-on.’ Taking a shuddering breath, she tried to compose herself. ‘Why didn’t she tell me, Molly? Why?’

  With Rosie’s tear-filled eyes on her, Molly didn’t know how best to respond. If she were to admit that Sandra had confided in her, while keeping it from her own mother, it might cause a terrible rift between them. Yet if she kept quiet and acted as if she knew nothing at all about it, wouldn’t that be a betrayal of Rosie?

  She was in a terrible dilemma.

  In the end, she knew what she had to do. ‘Good God, Rosie. How could she keep such a thing to herself?’ It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was the right response, for her and Rosie both.

  Rosie regarded her with wide, confused eyes. ‘Sure, I don’t know,’ she answered. ‘I’ve thought about it over and over, and I can’t understand it. Was she afraid of me? Oh, I might have stormed about and given her a lecture. I might even have given her a slap in the heat of anger. But she should have known I would have helped her all the way. I loved her, Molly. Surely to God she never doubted that?’

  Molly was quick to reassure her. ‘I’m convinced Sandra would have told you in the fullness of time,’ she said. ‘One thing I do know, she never doubted your love for her, and her love for you was just as strong. She adored you, Rosie, but I don’t need to tell you that, do I?’

  ‘No.’ Although Rosie had already half-convinced herself of it, the girl’s kindly reassurance was all she needed. A smile lifted her sorrow. ‘Think of it,’ she murmured. ‘I would have been a grandmother. It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time, so it is.’ Drifting deep into thought, she went on softly, ‘I had hoped you and Alfie…’ Pulling herself up sharp, she looked at Molly with horror. ‘Oh, lass. Whatever am I saying?’

  ‘Nothing I haven’t thought myself, time and again,’ Molly replied, and quickly changing the subject she asked, ‘Do you intend telling Dave about the bairn?’

  Rosie considered her answer. ‘At first, I didn’t know he wasn’t already aware of it. But then I realised if he had been, something would surely have been said. I thought Sandra would have wanted him to know, seeing as she’d gone there obviously to find him. I wanted him to bear the blame… to know he had fathered a child and my Sandra had died because of it.’

  Pausing, she gathered her thoughts. ‘But then I asked myself, what would it achieve? Sandra’s gone, and nothing can bring her back. Not revenge, not guilt, and not using a poor unborn child to make him feel shame.’

  Molly said nothing. There was nothing more she could say that hadn’t already been said.

  ‘Then there’s Lottie. She obviously knew nothing of his past relationship with Sandra, and it seems she thinks the world of him. From what you told me, before we either of us knew who he was, Lottie is happier than she’s ever been.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rosie. So deeply sorr
y that it all turned out like this.’

  ‘Ah, sure, you’ve nothing to be sorry about, lass. We were none of us to know what lay in store, and maybe it’s just as well. All I’m saying is, I can’t believe it will do anybody any good if I were to tell that young man how Sandra was carrying his bairn.’ Looking Molly in the eye, she asked pointedly, ‘Am I right, now?’

  Molly felt a profound sense of relief. ‘Right or wrong, I would have made exactly the same decision,’ she answered honestly.

  Taking a deep breath, Rosie visibly relaxed. ‘That’s good, lass. Sure, it’s what I hoped you’d say.’

  So, it was settled. Dave would never know the truth, and Lottie would not be made to feel guilty. Sandra’s secret would be safe with Rosie and Molly. The two of them had talked it through and nothing further would be said.

  But Rosie had another confession. ‘I’ve had this a few days now,’ she told Molly. ‘I wasn’t sure whether to show it you or not.’ Taking a folded card out of her pocket, she handed it to Molly.

  The first two words, Dearest Rosie, brought a gasp of astonishment from Molly. At once, she had recognised her own mother’s handwriting. ‘It’s from Mam!’

  Rosie settled back in her chair. ‘I don’t mind telling you, it was a shock for me an’ all.’

  Not wanting to read it, but unable to help herself, Molly read the letter aloud:

  Dearest Rosie,

  I know I’m probably the last person in the world you expected to hear from, and I hope this letter doesn’t add to your distress.

  I saw the newspaper the other day, and was shocked to learn about your Sandra. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. All I know is how I would feel if it was my Molly, or one of the others.

  I know I did a bad thing in leaving them, but it doesn’t mean to say I don’t love them, because I do.

  My heart goes out to you, Rosie. We’ve been good friends over the years, and I’m thinking of you in your loss.

  I want you to know you are never far from my mind. I miss you, and I miss my children.

  I’ve enclosed some money. Please, if it’s not too painful, will you buy some flowers and take them to Sandra, with my love.

  God bless you, Rosie.

  All my love,

  Amy.

  Her face stiff and unforgiving, Molly folded the card and handed it back to Rosie. ‘I’m glad she at least had the decency to write to you.’

  Rosie understood Molly’s hardness, but it made her sad all the same. ‘Is that all you have to say?’

  ‘What else should I say?’

  ‘I mean… it sounds to me as if she might be regretting her decision to run off and leave you all.’

  ‘It didn’t sound like that to me.’

  ‘Will you never forgive her?’

  Molly’s heart ached with love for her mam yet, deep down inside, she could not find it in her to forgive. ‘She didn’t talk it over with me. I’m sure we could have worked something out, if only she’d told me what was going on.’ Anger hardened her heart. ‘She didn’t trust me enough.’

  ‘She must have been so unhappy, love.’

  ‘I think about that a lot, but it still doesn’t excuse what she did. Leaving a note like that was such a cowardly thing to do.’

  ‘I don’t think your mam is really a coward, do you?’

  Fighting back her emotions, it was an age before Molly answered. ‘Maybe not. Putting up with Dad, having the last babies one after the other, couldn’t have been easy, especially if she was still in love with this other fella after all these years.’ Molly recalled the evening at the infirmary when Amy had spoken to her about Jack Mason. ‘When she told me about him she seemed years younger, as if she was a young girl again, but I never dreamed she’d run off with him like that, leaving the bairns behind an’ all.’ Regret engulfed her. ‘Oh Rosie, I do want to forgive her, but how can I?’

  Rosie had no answer to that. Instead she asked, ‘Do ye think your dad has tried to find her?’

  ‘Maybe he has, maybe he hasn’t. We don’t talk about it.’

  ‘Is he still giving you grief over money?’

  Molly rolled her eyes to heaven. ‘It’s hard work getting any housekeeping from him.’

  ‘Have you noticed a change in him lately?’

  ‘He doesn’t come home drunk so often, if that’s what you mean.’ She chuckled. ‘He hasn’t brought any street-women home neither, not since your Sandra…’

  Her voice faltered and she couldn’t go on, and for a time they were silent, lost in fond memories of Sandra.

  Presently, Molly had a question. ‘When is Alfie going back?’

  ‘I wish to God he wasn’t, but he’s planning to leave tomorrow, about three o’clock. His trainer has him on a tight schedule.’

  ‘Is he happy, Rosie?’

  ‘No more than you are, lass.’

  ‘Life’s a mess, isn’t it?’ Bitterness crept back. ‘That’s what I mean, about Mam running off like that. She had no thought for me, or the bairns.’

  Her arms opened wide as she glanced round the room. ‘Look at me, Rosie! I’m nineteen years old, and I’ve had to take her place. I can’t do what I want, go where I want, or have the man I love. And though I adore the children, they’re not mine, are they? All I wanted was my Alfie, and bairns of my own.’ Her voice shook with emotion. ‘And now it’s all gone. Our mam took it with her when she ran off.’

  ‘I know, lass.’ Rosie had seen Molly torn apart, and she had seen the same with Alfie. She had almost blurted out the truth to him today, about Molly and Amy, and everything. But common sense prevailed, and she let it go. To tell him now would be to undo everything she and Molly had planned between them.

  Molly seemed to have read her thoughts. ‘You must never tell him,’ she urged. ‘Let him go back knowing nothing.’

  Rosie nodded. ‘Ah, sure, I’ll not tell him, don’t worry.’ Getting out of her chair, she said wearily, ‘I’d best get back, lass. Dad’ll be wondering where I am. Mustn’t leave him alone too long.’

  ‘How is Michael?’

  Rosie’s face clouded over. ‘Not good, love. Not good at all. He’s up one minute and down the next. This past week has really knocked the stuffing out of him.’

  ‘Give him my love, and tell him I’ll come and see him when Alfie’s gone back.’ She couldn’t risk bumping into him again, or she might spill out the truth and that would never do. It had gone too far for that.

  Rosie said she understood. ‘You look tired, lass. What say I come round and give ye a hand with the bairns tonight?’ She gave a little chuckle. ‘You wash and I’ll wipe, eh? Then we’ll get them into their beds and have a good old chinwag over a brew. What d’ye say?’

  ‘Sounds good to me, Rosie. Thanks.’

  ‘See ye later then.’ And off she went, with a heavy heart, back to her sorrowful home and menfolk. All the light had gone out of their household, for the time being at least.

  * * *

  By the time Rosie made a reappearance, Molly had fed the children, baked a meat and potato pie for her dad, changed the beds, blackleaded the range, and done the washing. Right now, keeping busy was the only way she could cope.

  Assailed by the delicious aroma of newly baked meat pie, Rosie looked at the shining range and the pile of freshly washed bedclothes and was astounded. ‘You’ve been busy, haven’t ye?’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Got to keep on top of it all,’ Molly replied. ‘With our new job taking up hours in the day, the housework has a funny way of creeping up on you when you’re not looking.’

  Not for the first time, Rosie took a discreet look at Molly and was more worried than ever; the girl was thinner, peaky-looking, and just now with the sweat glistening on her face, she looked positively worn out.

  ‘Stop a minute, love.’ Molly was turning the vegetables on the stove top. ‘You look beat, so ye do.’

  Leaning against the door jamb, she addressed Molly in a motherly voice. ‘Nobody knows more than I do what you’ve
had to endure, what with your mam shifting her own burden to your young shoulders, then your da giving you grief whenever you ask him for money. The children, our Sandra, and now Alfie going back tomorrow…’ She sighed. ‘Don’t punish yourself, darlin’. You’ve nothing to blame yourself for.’

  Turning round, Molly smiled at her. ‘Our mam was right. You are a good friend.’

  Rolling up her sleeves, Rosie asked, ‘Are the children fed?’

  ‘Half an hour since.’

  ‘So that’s your da’s dinner you’re cooking now?’

  ‘Hmh! Though judging by the way he ran out of here like a scalded cat, like as not he won’t be home till midnight. Which means this lovely pie will spoil in the waiting, an’ I’ll have wasted my time as usual.’

  ‘Right! The children are fed, so all it needs now is to get them washed and off to bed. Am I right?’

  ‘Eddie’s already washed and in his cot. The others are in the front room, but they’re too quiet for my liking. I was just about to go and check on them when I’d finished this.’

  Rosie made a suggestion. ‘While you’re seeing to your da’s dinner, I’ll get the children ready for their wash. We’ll have them in bed in no time at all, then you can relax afore Frank comes home.’

  ‘Thanks, Rosie.’ Though she chuckled when she heard Rosie making efforts to marshal the children for their wash, and the children protesting, ‘It’s not fair. We have to wash every single night and morning as well!’

  Rosie told them that if they didn’t, the muck would stick to them, and pretty soon they’d be growing potatoes all over their skin. That did the trick!

  By quarter past nine, the young ’uns were not only in their beds, but sleeping like little angels. ‘You wore them out with all that soap and scrubbing,’ Molly joked.

  ‘Aye, an’ it’s good to see you relaxing for a change,’ Rosie retorted. ‘I’m keeping a watchful eye on you from now on, my girl, so I am.’ With Sandra gone and Alfie all set to go back to America, Molly was all she had left; apart from Michael, and he was in a world of his own at the minute.