Dr Edmonds was a kind old gentleman, but his news was devastating all the same. ‘From what you tell me, I calculate the date to be September the fourth.’ He went on at great length about her care and well-being, ‘Especially as you are not as young as you once were.’
Amy hardly remembered the tram journey home. All she could think of was Jack’s fear of children. Once inside the confines of the house, she quickly packed her portmanteau, taking only a few of the beautiful things Jack had bought her.
When that was done, she wrote him a note:
Dearest Jack,
I went to see the doctor today. He told me what I had already suspected. I’m having your bairn.
Because of what you told me, I knew you would be filled with horror at the idea of a child in the house. I don’t want to wait until you tell me to go, so I’m leaving right away.
You might think I would go back to Frank, but nothing is further from my mind. My life in Blackburn is finished. Too much water has passed under the bridge. Too much bitterness and blame.
I’ll go where I’ve never been, where I won’t have fingers pointed at me. I’ll make a new life, with our bairn, and may God forgive me.
Thank you for everything, Jack. I have the money you kindly put away in an account for me. The bairn isn’t due until September, so I’ll be able to work and save a little more for when it’s here. I will manage very well, thanks to your generosity,
I wish you even more success in your business, though I know you won’t need it. You always were a born businessman.
I love you, Jack, and I’m so sorry it had to end like this.
Amy.
At the door she took one last look around. ‘Goodbye, Jack. God bless.’ Wiping away a tear, she quickly left that beautiful house where she had been so happy.
Walking down the street with her portmanteau, she looked a lonely, solitary figure. ‘It’s a punishment,’ she murmured. ‘For what I did.’
Chapter Twenty Two
Three days before the wedding, Rosie had a visitor.
When she opened the door it was to see a broken, haggard man with haunted eyes. ‘You’re Rosie, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘Amy’s friend?’
‘Yes, and who the divil are you at this time of the morning?’ It was not yet seven o’clock.
‘I’m Jack Mason,’ he answered. ‘Amy and I…’ Glancing up and down the street, he wondered if he’d done right in coming here. The last thing he wished to do was stir up trouble. He wanted Amy, that was all he had ever wanted. ‘Look, Rosie, don’t you think it might be better if we talked inside?’
It had taken Rosie a minute to put two and two together, and now she understood. ‘I’ll give ye one minute, then you’re to be on your way as quick as you can.’ She glanced at the fancy car parked down the street. ‘At least ye had the good sense to keep that from the door. There’s a wedding due any day now, and I’ll not have you upsetting that lovely lass, d’ye hear what I’m saying?’
He nodded. ‘Just let me in, Rosie. We need to talk.’
Once inside the parlour, he explained the situation. ‘I’ve searched high and low, but she’s nowhere to be seen. She said in her note she wouldn’t come back here, but I had to try. I’ve nowhere else to look.’
‘Why d’ye want to find her?’
‘Because I love her, Rosie. She ran off because she’s having a bairn, and she knows I get really nervous with children about me. It goes back to the orphanage… bad experiences and all that. Look, Rosie, I have to find her! I’m going crazy. I can’t work, I can’t think. Everything’s wrong without her.’
‘And what about the bairn?’
‘I’ve thought about that, and I think it’ll be different. It’s my bairn… part of me. I want it, Rosie, and I want its mammy. Please, for God’s sake, if you know where she is, tell me!’
Rosie took a moment to regard this man who had caused such havoc in their lives. What she saw was a man going out of his mind for the love of a woman. She saw how Amy might have chosen to throw in her lot with him, and she felt compassion for them both. ‘Wait.’
Going to the sideboard, she took out an envelope. ‘This came only yesterday,’ she said, handing it to him. ‘It’s from Amy. She’s no more happy than you are. I reckon you’d best go and get her, don’t you?’
Tearing open the envelope, he removed the letter with trembling fingers. He spoke the address out loud… ‘Fourteen, Albert Street, Lytham Saint Anne’s.’ When he looked up, tears were dancing in his eyes. ‘How can I thank you?’ he said brokenly. ‘What can I do?’
Rosie clasped his hand in hers. She had a particular reason for wanting these two to get back together again, though she prayed Molly would never know her part in all of this. ‘Go and fetch her,’ she whispered. ‘She’s waiting for ye, so she is.’
After he’d gone, she watched through the window. She saw him wipe his face, then draw away in the car, and she muttered under her breath, ‘Be happy.’
Then, going to the chair, she gathered the wedding dress in her arms and took it with her down the street to Molly’s house.
As arranged, Molly was up and about, so excited she couldn’t keep still. ‘They’re all asleep,’ she told Rosie, and there were stars in her pretty eyes.
‘Try it on, darlin’.’ Rosie handed her the dress. ‘I’ve taken the waist in. It should fit a treat now.’
‘We’d best go in the front room, just in case they wake up and come down,’ Molly told her. ‘I don’t want anyone to see it till the day.’
While Molly ran to the front parlour with her precious dress, Rosie went to the scullery. ‘There’s nothing like a fresh brew to gather your wits, especially when there’s a wedding in the making.’
She winked in the mirror. ‘Or mebbe two!’
Chapter Twenty Three
Molly came out of the house to a crowd of onlookers. The gown had them gawping with admiration; a slim shift of white linen, with sewn-on roses at the shoulders and a neck that showed her small shoulders to perfection, it clung to Molly’s every dainty curve.
‘Look at that!’ one woman cried. ‘I’d give owt to have had a frock like that when I were wed! Instead o’ which I were big as a bleedin’ ship with me first, and wearing a smock like the farmer in Pleasington.’
Everyone laughed, including Molly herself. Rosie glowed with pride, for the dress was the result of her painstaking handiwork. But it was Molly’s loveliness that really had them gasping.
Unlike her mother when she was young, Molly had never been a raving beauty, but she looked like a real princess today. In that beautiful dress, with her hair swept back to take the silken headpiece, and the short, bouncy veil around her pretty face, she was every man’s dream bride, and every woman’s inspiration.
As she waved and smiled, her eyes shone like diamonds, and her heart sang with joy. ‘Yer look lovely, lass!’ Maggie had waited for an hour to see her come out. Others shouted their good luck, and told her, ‘God bless yer, lass. You deserve the best.’ And Molly knew that, in Alfie, she had the very best.
Outside the church, the long black car drew up and the crowd surged forward. The car had cost Frank Tattersall half a week’s wages; it was his wedding present to the couple.
Her dad got out first. ‘You look grand, lass,’ he said, flushing with embarrassment.
When they walked down the aisle, Frank took Molly by the arm, and the pride on his face was there for all to see. Behind them came Milly and Bertha in their little pink frocks, and Georgie, bringing up the rear in a grey suit made by Rosie; he looked uncomfortable with all eyes on him as he passed by. Lottie and Dave stood watching from a pew on the bride’s side of the church.
In his smart dark suit, Alfie was handsome as ever. When he turned to see his bride coming towards him, his heart somersaulted at the sight of her.
They smiled at each other, and he held her hand throughout the service, and when it was over they walked out into the spring sunshine and he kissed her for the camera.
Then he kissed her for himself, and everybody clapped and laughed. Suddenly they were showered in rice and confetti, and they ran to the car.
* * *
The reception was held in the best upstairs room at Frank’s favourite pub. ‘I don’t see much of you these days,’ the landlord told him.
‘Aye, well, I’ve other things to occupy me now,’ Frank replied with a wink. And the landlord thought, Hey up! He’s at his old tricks with the ladies again. But he could not have been more wrong.
The accordion man played, and the fiddler tapped out his music; the children played under the tables, and everyone said what a lovely couple Alfie and Molly were. Everyone danced with everyone else, and no one noticed how Frank and Rosie never changed partners.
They danced too close and spoke in whispers, and still no one noticed. Except Molly. ‘Look at them,’ she said to Alfie, and Alfie said he was glad they’d made friends, for her sake.
When Molly grew quiet, her eyes glazed over with memories, he held her close. ‘You wish your mam was here, don’t you, sweetheart?’
She smiled up at him. ‘As long as I have you,’ she said, chiding herself for letting him see how, in that one careless minute, she had let her mam overshadow her happiness, ‘I don’t mind. I love you so much, Alfie.’
* * *
Outside, Amy wasn’t sure whether to make herself known. ‘I gave away my rights to this family when I turned my back on them,’ she told Jack. But oh how she ached to see Molly on this, her special day.
Jack believed that she should go in. ‘If you don’t make your peace now, you never will,’ he said, and she knew he was right.
‘Will you come in with me?’
He shook his head. ‘Better not.’
Nervously, she walked towards the doors; twice she started back. ‘Go on!’ Jack knew it meant so much to her. He also knew that if forgiveness was in the offing, this was the day when it would be given.
Rosie was the first to see her.
While dancing in Frank’s arms, her gaze was drawn to the door, and there stood Amy, small and nervous in a dark suit with a brown beret over her glossy hair.
Frank saw her, too. ‘Jesus Christ, it’s Amy!’ Frozen to the spot, he could only stare in disbelief.
Then the others saw and the voices grew louder. ‘Shame on yer!’ ‘What right have you to ruin the lass’s day!’ ‘Haven’t yer caused her enough heartache?’ All neighbours, all knowing the circumstances.
Amy’s gaze went to Molly, and a sob rose in her throat. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mouthed, and ran out, blinded by her tears.
Seeing her distress, Jack leaped out of the car and ran towards her.
‘Mam!’ Molly’s voice calmed everyone. Quietly, with great dignity, she walked over to her mother.
Amy turned and looked at her daughter, and her heartache was tenfold. She couldn’t speak. Like everyone there, she could only wait for the reprimand she deserved.
For a breathtaking moment, the two looked at each other, and then Molly opened her arms. With a cry, Amy went to her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she cried. ‘Oh, lass, I’m so sorry.’
For what seemed an age they clung to each other, and as the wedding guests looked on, many an eye was brimming with tears.
The children watched from a distance, and when Molly called them they crept over, unsure and afraid, too young to understand. ‘We don’t want to come with you,’ they told Amy. ‘We’re staying here.’ And Amy cradled them in her arms. ‘I’m not here to take you away,’ she promised, and saw the relief in their faces.
From where he stood, Jack looked across at Frank, and Frank nodded, and at long last, everything was all right.
Suddenly, Michael Noonan’s voice called out querulously, ‘What’s going on ’ere? I’m away outside to the lavvy, and when I come back the whole place is deserted!’ He looked at Molly and Amy holding each other, and understood. With a grin, he told them, ‘Hey! There’s booze and food going to waste in ’ere. Get yer arses back inside, the lot of youse!’
When they were all back inside again, Rosie and Frank had an announcement to make. ‘We’re getting wed as soon as we can,’ Frank told them. ‘Unless anyone has any objections?’ His gaze went to Amy, and then to Jack, and when Jack winked, Frank put his arm round Rosie. ‘She’s taking on me and my kids, and who knows, we might have another half dozen into the bargain!’
To which Rosie gave him a sound clip round the ear. ‘Like bloody hell we will, Frank Tattersall. You’re too old and withered for a start!’ she said, and the uproar almost lifted the roof.
The music struck up again and everyone got dancing; Rosie and Frank, Jack and Amy, Lottie and Dave, and the younger children in amongst them.
Dancing in Alfie’s arms, Molly looked back at all her family, reunited at last, and her heart was light. ‘I’m so glad it all came right in the end,’ she said.
Alfie smiled down on her. ‘So am I, for your sake more than the others.’
‘Do you love me?’ Even now she could hardly believe it.
‘How could I not love you?’ he whispered. ‘You’re the loveliest, kindest person in the world.’
She placed her finger over his lips. ‘No,’ she contradicted him. ‘I’m the luckiest.’
She buried her face in his shoulder, and he took her gently round the floor, safe in his arms. Safe in his heart.
* * *
Later, the whole family went to the churchyard to lay the wedding flowers on Sandra’s grave.
Molly lingered for a while. ‘I wished for you to be there on my special day,’ she murmured. ‘And somehow, I think you were.’ She laid her bouquet alongside the others. ‘I’ll never forget you,’ she said.
Then Alfie came and took her away.
And all was well.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2000 by Headline Book Publishing
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Josephine Cox, 2000
The moral right of Josephine Cox to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788633017
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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