The Possession of November Jones

by Pat Herbert

  “I see. I presume you think I’m the father?”

  “Nah,” she said sarcastically. “It was Santa Claus the last time he came down the chimney.”

  “I’m sorry this has happened, Rose. Although I don’t hold up my hands just yet. Are you telling me, hand on heart, you haven’t been with anyone else since we .... since...”

  “What d’you take me for?”

  The fact that Edward probably took her for the prostitute she was, or once was, didn’t seem to bother Rose at that moment.

  “The baby’s yours, right enough. And before you even suggest it, it ain’t going the same way as Lily’s. You think women like us have no feelings.”

  “No, I don’t,” said Edward, not very convincingly. “I know you have feelings and it’ll be yours, Rose. I won’t take it from you.”

  “Don’t you mean ours?” she asked with meaning.

  “Ours? Well, biologically, yes. But there can be no official recognition of the fact, Rose, you do see that, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t. You’d better marry me, or I’ll tell everyone what you did.”

  Edward took Rose by the shoulders and raised her to her full height. It was disconcerting that she was almost as tall as him. He shook her gently and stared into her beautiful, dark eyes.

  “Now, look, Rose. I can’t marry you and there’s an end of it. I shall support you in every other way I can and will see that you and your – our – baby will want for nothing. Now, won’t that satisfy you?”

  Rose freed herself from Edward’s grip and glared at him. “Not on your life! If you don’t marry me, I’ll see to it that everyone knows you’re the father.”

  Edward gave her a sardonic smile. It was one thing to say he was the father, but quite another to prove it. And no one would take the word of a mere prostitute, an ungrateful one at that. He had dragged her out of the gutter, and she could go back there, as far as he was concerned. And she could take the unborn brat with her.

  “I think, Rose, that, if you want to continue living under my roof and have your baby in safety, then I’d stop making these threats.”

  Rose felt like spitting in his face, but she controlled herself with an effort. “You can’t make me stop,” she said, but the bravado had gone out of her voice now. “I have my rights.”

  “Certainly you do, Rose. And you have the right to leave my house any time you wish.”

  The young woman looked deflated now. “You know I don’t want to go,” she muttered.

  “Then I suggest you keep quiet, have the baby, and then we shall see. All right?”

  “All right,” she said.

  The fight was lost for now. But there was always another day. She would prove Lily wrong even yet. She would marry Edward Moreland if it was the last thing she ever did.

  Chapter Ten

  It was a cold, frosty January morning when Rose felt the first contractions. Lily knew what to do and took charge at once. Putting Rose to bed, she instructed Lydia to boil plenty of water.

  “So, the baby’s coming, is it?” was Edward Moreland’s mild reaction to the news. “I suppose I’d better fetch the doctor.”

  “I suppose you’d better,” said Lily firmly. “It ain’t no picnic for any woman. And I should know.”

  Rose writhed in agony on her truckle bed, cursing the name of ‘Edward Moreland’ for all she was worth. Some of the language she used, even the streetwise Lily had never heard before. She smiled as she mopped her friend’s brow, committing one or two of the fruitier oaths to memory.

  The doctor finally turned up after three long hours, bustling up the stairs demanding lots of hot water. How much hot water does he need? Lily wondered. Is she going to bathe in it?

  Two hours later, an exhausted Rose was the proud mother of a seven pound baby boy, and Lily felt again the snuffling warmth of a tiny infant at her bosom. She started to cry as she handed the bundle to Rose.

  Although she tried very hard not to be, Lily was envious of her friend. Firstly, she had sailed through her confinement with relative ease and speed, whereas her own had been twice as long and four times as painful. And, even more galling, Rose had her baby close to her, while her own Mary Josephine was seemingly lost to her forever.

  Meanwhile, the far from proud father paced the parlour below. Now that the baby was born and, according to the doctor, was as healthy a specimen as he has seen in a twelve month, Rose would no doubt continue to demand he make an honest woman of her. What should he do with her? And, more to the point, what should he do with the baby?

  It was a boy and, in any other circumstances, he would have been happy and proud. But the circumstances were far from simple. Especially after what he’d said to his brother. He was the worst kind of a hypocrite. No doubt Charles would take the moral high ground now, and Edward couldn’t really say he’d blame him. Still, there was no help for it. If he wanted to maintain his reputation as a fine, upstanding citizen and all-round good egg, he would have to go to Charles more or less cap in hand. But it was a good idea, all the same.

  Sitting down at his writing bureau, he pulled a sheet of paper out of the drawer and began to write as follows:

  Dear Charles,

  It seems we are cut from the same cloth in more ways than one. It is not without eating a small amount of humble pie that I have to tell you I have just become a father, too. Please do not ask for any details, Charles, because I will not divulge them to you or anyone else. All you need to know is my baby is a healthy boy, weighing seven pounds.

  However, there is the question of the mother’s rights, which I have to acknowledge, but, like Miss Martin, she is a woman of doubtful reputation and, as such, is ill-equipped to care for her child.

  So I come to the main reason for writing, Charles. I think it best for all concerned if you take on the responsibility of bringing him up yourself and, with your charming wife by your side, I am sure he will complete your happy household. I will continue my interest in the boy as his ‘uncle’, which I hope will also meet with your approval.

  If you are agreeable, I will bring the child to you myself tomorrow week. Your affectionate brother,

  Edward

  He folded up the letter, put it into an envelope and stamped his seal on it. Having instructed Lydia to take it to the post immediately, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Charles would probably reject his plan at first, but he was sure he’d come round in the end. After all, it was the best solution for everyone concerned. Wasn’t it?

  

  Rose, being a new and anxious mother, couldn’t help checking on her baby every few minutes as he slept peacefully in the crib beside her bed. He had taken her breast milk with no difficulty, and he seemed content. Old Kitty also kept her beady eye on him and reassured Rose twenty times a day that he was doing fine.

  Lily was never far away either, making as much fuss of him as if he were her own baby. Rose was happy for her to do so, saying the little boy would be as much hers as his own natural mother.

  “I could never be his proper mother, Rose,” Lily had said, sadly but grateful to her nevertheless. “But I promise I will look after him as if I was.”

  “Thank you, Lily. I know you will.”

  “And you’d better make sure that Mister Edward don’t decide to steal the little angel,” she warned, stroking his soft, downy cheek as he lay in his mother’s arms.

  “Nah, he won’t give this mite away. It’s his baby, after all.”

  “That don’t count for much with men like that,” asserted her friend.

  “Oh, stow it, Lily. He said he wouldn’t give my baby away, and I believe him.”

  “More fool you, then,” said Lily, huffily, standing up and smoothing her dress. “I still think we should hide him somewhere, just till you’re strong enough to leave this house and take the poor little thing with you.”

  Rose gave Lily a sad look. “You really think he’ll do the dirty on me?”

  “Yes, I do. And I don’t want to see you
hurt like me. We could get away from here and bring the baby up together. What d’you say?”

  Rose hugged her baby closer. “Oh, Lily, dear. It’s all very well, but where would we go and what would we live on?”

  “We’ll manage. We did before.”

  “You mean go back on the streets? No, Lily, I won’t do that. Not now. I’m going to make Mister Edward marry me, you’ll see.”

  “Don’t be daft. He’s never going to marry you, not in a month of Sundays.”

  “You’re only jealous because your bloke wouldn’t marry you!”

  “’Course I’m jealous, wouldn’t you be in my shoes? But I still think he won’t marry you. He’d never lower himself.”

  “We’ll just have to wait and see, shan’t we, Miss Smarty Pants? Anyway, I’m calling him Edward Moreland Jones,” said Rose, stroking her baby’s head. “I’ve already got Lydia to register his birth in that name. See?”

  “Oh, for Gawd’s sake, Rose. It don’t matter what he’s called, he’ll still be taken from you. And the ‘Jones’ bit of his name will be dropped, quick as you like.”

  Rose sniffed. “Well, I won’t let it.”

  “You’re living in cloud cuckoo land,” sighed Lily.

  She made to leave the room but turned as she reached the door. “I’m going to see Mister Edward now, Rose, and see what he’s got to say about all this. He’s not going to make a monkey out of you, not if I’ve got anything to do with it.”

  “You be careful, Lily. You could get into a lot of trouble,” warned Rose as her friend closed the door.

  

  Lily was less resolved now she was face to face with Edward Moreland, who she found in the parlour, seated in his favourite armchair reading The Times.

  “Oh, Lily,” he sighed. “You again. I keep telling you, young lady, I am not going to tell you where your baby is. Please be content.”

  “‘Please be content’,” she mimicked in a sing-song voice that sounded quite threatening to Edward’s ears.

  He was feeling very tired these days and just wanted to be left alone. He rustled his newspaper in the hope she would take the hint.

  “I ain’t come for that this time,” she said. “I want to know what you intend to do about Rose, now that she’s had your kid.”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” said Edward primly. “That is a matter for Rose and myself.”

  “Well, what about the kid, then? D’you intend to let her keep it?”

  “The baby is mine. Why shouldn’t I keep it myself?”

  “Because it wouldn’t look right, would it? You not being a married man and all? And you’re no more likely to marry Rose than fly to the moon.”

  “You’re a clever little cat, aren’t you?” he observed, arching an eyebrow at her.

  “Well? Why don’t you come clean? It’s no skin off your nose, is it? I mean I can’t do nothing to stop you, can I?”

  “Look, I intend to do right by my son, and that’s all I will tell you. Now be off with you before I take my slipper to you.”

  “Oh, that’s nice, that is. Threatening me with violence, is it? You better not lay a finger on me or it’ll be the worse for you.”

  “Just go, Lily. Please.”

  She realised she wasn’t going to get the truth out of him. She had so wanted to prove to Rose, once and for all, that he had no intention of marrying her. What he had meant by ‘doing right by his son’ she could only guess at, but she was pretty sure he meant to take the baby from Rose just like he’d taken her own baby. However, there was no point in telling her this, she reckoned. Let the poor girl remain in blissful ignorance a little longer. She’d find out the truth for herself soon enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Where’s the baby, Rose?”

  Four days after the birth of little Edward Moreland Jones, Rose was sitting at her dressing table adjusting her luxuriant raven tresses which had been neglected during and since her confinement. Lily, putting down a cup of tea beside her, looked around the room anxiously. The crib by Rose’s bed was empty.

  “Don’t worry,” laughed Rose. “Kitty’s looking after him for a bit. Gives me a chance to sort myself out. I look a right mess, don’t I?”

  “You look lovely,” said Lily, sitting on the bed. “But d’you think you should’ve let Kitty take him? I wish I’d never let her take Mary Josephine.”

  “Oh, Kitty’s all right,” said Rose through a mouthful of pins, as she fiddled with a particularly stubborn lock of hair. “She won’t do him any harm.”

  “No, of course she won’t,” said Lily. “But Mister Edward might take him from her when she ain’t looking.”

  “As I keep telling you, Lily, Mister Edward ain’t going to touch my kid.”

  “And you really believe that?”

  Rose finished titivating her hair and turned to face Lily. “No, I don’t. Not when push comes to shove. But I’ve got to believe it, I’ve simply got to.”

  “Why?” asked Lily eagerly. “We could leave here together, once I find out where my Mary Josephine is. I’ll get the address by hook or by crook.”

  “Lily, have you thought what it’ll really mean – leaving here?”

  “Yes, I have. But if you stay, Rose, you won’t see your baby get to a month old, let alone a grown man.”

  Rose looked thoughtful. Lily’s words had frightened her, she couldn’t deny it. “So, what should we do? I mean, Mister Edward ain’t going to give us his brother’s address, and we ain’t strong enough to beat it out of him, neither.”

  “The two of us might be,” said Lily. “He don’t look all that strong to me. He ain’t very tall – you and me are near enough the same height as him.”

  “All right, Lily. Let’s go and see him then.”

  

  They entered the morning room where they knew Edward Moreland would be at that time of the day. They found him sitting at his mahogany desk by the window, drinking coffee and reading some private correspondence. He looked up as the pair entered.

  “I didn’t hear you knock,” he accused them, looking nervously from one to the other.

  Although the women were free to come and go as they pleased, it was generally understood that the ground floor rooms, including the parlour, library and morning room, were out of bounds. Edward allowed them to enter by invitation only, but it was a rule that was often flouted. Like now.

  “We won’t keep you long, Mister Edward,” said Lily, a wry smile playing around her lips. “All we want is your brother’s address and we’ll leave you in peace. Can’t say fairer than that now, can we?”

  Edward stood up, his temper almost getting the better of him. However, he took a deep breath and answered Lily calmly.

  “I’m not at liberty to give you that information. I’ve already told you that, Lily. How many more times?”

  “You must tell me where my baby’s gone!” cried Lily, tears starting in her eyes, her self-control unable to match his. “You’re a wicked man. I bet you’re planning on giving Rose’s baby away, too!”

  Rose broke in. “I don’t say you’d do that, Mister Edward,” she said, wheedling. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

  Edward was still keeping his temper under control. “Look, ladies, I have no intention of giving you my brother’s address and the fate of your little son is still to be decided, Rose. Now, please go, both of you, and leave me in peace.”

  Suddenly, Lily sprang forward, fumbling under her skirts as she did so. Rose was just as shocked as Edward when they saw what she was fumbling for. A sharp-bladed kitchen knife was in her hand, and she was wielding it dangerously in her master’s direction.

  “Gawd, Lily!” Rose screamed. “Put that down – you’ll do someone a mischief.”

  At the sight of the knife, Edward clutched at his heart and slumped back in his chair.

  “Edward!” cried Rose. “Are you all right?”

  “My pills!” he gasped, “get me my pills...”

&nb
sp; “Where are they?”

  “In my pocket in my jacket on the .... hall .... stand...”

  He seemed to faint then, and the two women stared at each other.

  “What have you done, Lily?” Rose screamed at her. “Get his bleedin’ pills!”

  “I only meant to threaten him,” Lily wailed, running to the door.

  On the hall stand, she grabbed the nearest jacket and scrabbled in the pocket for the pills. As her hand clasped a small vial, her fingers brushed against what felt like an envelope. As she removed the pills, the envelope fell out onto the floor. She bent to pick it up and replace it, but as she was about to do so, she saw the South London postmark. Unsure why, she put it in her underskirt pocket instead. Her instinct told her that this find was significant.

  Running into the kitchen for some water to wash down the pills, she found Kitty and Lydia preparing the midday meal.

  “What’s up?” asked Kitty, looking up from the pastry board, as Lily came rushing in.

  “I think Mister Edward’s having a heart attack.”

  Kitty dropped her rolling pin and hobbled past Lily, closely followed by Lydia. Lily brought up the rear with the water and pills.

  For the next quarter of an hour, all was chaos in the Tottenham household. The doctor was sent for, and Edward managed to swallow the pills, recovering sufficiently to enable Kitty and Lydia to help him to bed.

  When the doctor arrived, Rose and Lily made themselves scarce. Rose pulled her friend into her room and closed the door quickly. “You fool, Lily! You might have killed him!”

  “I never meant no harm,” Lily protested, realising she still had the offending knife concealed in her underskirts. “How was I to know he’s got a weak heart? Don’t let on what I did, will you?”

  “I won’t say anything,” Rose assured her, sitting down on the bed. “But what about him? He’ll spill the beans, for sure.”