‘Your job?’ He squeezed her fingers so hard she felt sure he was cutting off the blood supply.
‘You’re hurting me, Frank.’ Molly squirmed in her seat.
‘Too bloody right I’m hurting you,’ he growled. ‘What job’s this? What did I say about you working?’
‘It’s the sewing I do for the church,’ she gasped. ‘I get paid for it. Collins and Braithwaite don’t just make ecclesiastical candles. That’s why I was at Mr Collins’s house. He wanted to put me in charge of the Embroidery and Garment room at the factory. He thought it would help me out, with you in prison.’
‘We don’t need his money!’
‘Yes, we do. Ouch! That hurts!’ She glared at him and managed to pull her hand free. ‘Your pride isn’t going to keep the roof over our heads and put food on our table, Frank Payne.’
‘You’re determined to grind my self-respect into the ground, aren’t you?’ he snarled. ‘Thanks a bloody lot!’
‘You’re wrong! Have some commonsense. D’you want me and George in the workhouse? And don’t mention us going to Ma’s again because it just wouldn’t work. I’ve tried it, remember. In the meantime we’ve got to get by the best we can.’
‘OK! You’ve had your say. Now I’ll have mine. You’re not going to work at his factory.’
‘I turned the job down. Said you wouldn’t allow it.’
For a long time Frank stared at her, a frustrated expression on his face. Then he said abruptly, ‘The trouble with you is you’ve had too much of a free rein since we’ve been married. So I’m going to do what you asked me once: I’ll give up the sea.’
Her heart sank. How was she going to cope having him home all the time? So far she had been lucky but she could easily get pregnant with him always around. There was no chance of him being careful then. ‘What’ll you do?’ she whispered.
‘Get a job in the wash house.’ He hunched his shoulders. ‘Georgie’s growing, I should see more of him. Otherwise he won’t know who his father is.’
Molly’s heart missed a beat. She wondered what would happen if Nathan did turn up on her doorstep demanding to see his son. Perhaps she should just grab George as soon as she got home and make a run for it?
All the way there she was planning her escape. There was one gold sovereign left which she could pawn as well as her sewing machine. She would get the money and go…
Cath glanced over her shoulder as Molly entered the room. She was holding a sheet of newspaper in front of the grate, trying to draw in air from below to fan the slumbering embers into life. ‘George isn’t well,’ she said.
Molly glanced at her son where he lay curled up on the sofa. His cheeks were flushed and his eyelids drooped. He was sucking his thumb. She placed a hand against his forehead and was shocked to feel how hot and dry it was. Fear cut through her like a hot wire. ‘He’s burning up!’
‘He was like that when I picked him up from Mrs McNally’s.’ Cath folded the newspaper. ‘That little girl was there too. The one Doris is nursemaid to. Pretty little thing. But then, we could all look good if we had money like that.’
‘Was she mopey? Burning up like this?’ Molly’s imagination ran amok, Lord! What if she lost both her children?
‘No. She was dancing round the kitchen, singing and making us laugh by pulling faces. She reminded me of someone but I couldn’t think who…’
Frank, thought Molly, feeling another stab of fear. Then she told herself it was no use worrying about that, George was more important right now. ‘I’m going to have to watch him. I’ll keep him in bed with me tonight.’
Molly spent a restless night and in the morning her son was still feverish and burning hot. Sweat out a fever, she thought, but it seemed crazy, piling clothes on to the bed and making him hotter still. She decided to act on her instincts and sponged him down with cold water, continuing to do so most of the day. The two nights that followed he was so fretful and hot she could not rest. But on the fourth day when morning came she noticed immediately that his face was covered in spots. She struggled into a sitting position and lifted his nightgown. More spots. He opened his eyes and smiled sleepily up at her. She returned his smile and felt his forehead. It was still hot but also slightly damp.
Molly scrambled out of bed. ‘You stay there, sweetheart. I’m going to fetch Mrs McNally. She’ll know what’s wrong with you.’ It could be measles or perhaps scarlet fever. She didn’t have the experience to tell.
‘Yeah. It’s measles all right,’ said the older woman as soon as she set eyes on George. ‘Yer’ll need to keep him in with the curtains closed. It can affect the eyes.’
So there could be no running away just yet, thought Molly with a sinking heart. Fortunately Cath was back at work so they had some money coming in. As well as that the neighbours, sympathetic to her plight and thinking well of Frank, gave her little gifts of tea, sugar, milk and potatoes, while Mrs McNally brought in the odd bowl of soup or a couple of bacon ribs.
Molly was grateful even though she did not feel like eating. George’s throat was terribly red and sore which resulted in a hacking cough. She pawned her last sovereign and called in the doctor. He prescribed a cough linctus and told her to give the boy plenty of drinks.
Mrs McNally dropped by the same day to say Doris had been on a flying visit. ‘Little Jessica seems to be sickening for something. So I told her about George.’
Poor child, thought Molly, hoping she wasn’t suffering as much as her brother. ‘Is Mr Collins still away? And how’s Mrs Collins?’
‘Oh, he’ll be back any day now. As for the old woman, Doris says she’s fine if a bit confused. I was to tell yer as well that Charlie’s working there now.’
‘Charlie! You mean Charlie McGuire?’ Molly’s eyes widened in amazement. ‘How’s that come about?’
Mrs McNally grinned. ‘Our Doris has been trying to get him a job there for ages but it was only the morning Mr Collins went away he said Charlie could come. That maybe it would be a good thing to have a handyman around the place. He does a bit of everything, does Charlie. Marvellous when yer think he’s only got one hand. Nice bloke.’
Molly wondered if wedding bells were in the air but kept quiet. A couple of days later Ma turned up. It seemed she had heard about George and was prepared to forget their differences. Unfortunately half an hour later Molly had another unexpected visitor. ‘Uncle Jack!’ she said in amazement on opening the door.
The bargee’s weatherbeaten face creased into a smile. ‘I heard through our Rob that thy little lad had the measles so I brought him a slate and chalks to keep him happy while he’s stuck in.’
‘That’s kind of you,’ said Molly, hesitating only a moment before inviting him in.
As soon as he entered the kitchen it was obvious Ma’s suspicions were aroused. Jack’s attire proclaimed the bargee. She cleared her throat noisily. ‘Who’s this then?’
Molly realised there was nothing for it but to make the introductions. ‘Uncle Jack, this is my mother-in-law, Mrs Payne. Ma, this is Jack Fletcher. He was a friend of my parents.’
‘Yerra bargee?’ said Ma.
‘Aye, I am that, missus.’
‘Seen plenty of yous lot out Bootle where I live.’
‘Happen the canal goes through there,’ he said with a smile, sitting alongside George and handing him the slate.
As she poured him a cup of tea Molly felt certain Ma was putting two and two together and coming to the wrong conclusion. Why had she been so stupid as to mention the lockfields and a man that evening? Perhaps it had been the wine that had caused her to say such things?
‘Mamma, duck!’ said George.
‘He’s quick, lass,’ said Jack.
‘That’s a new word for him. You’ve been good for him.’
He grinned. ‘I don’t know about that.’The man drained his cup. ‘I’d like to stay, lass, but I’ll have to be going. Have a schedule to keep to.’
Molly saw him out.
‘Don’t say it, Ma,’ she
warned as she went back inside.
The old woman sniffed, getting to her feet. ‘Don’t yer worry, girl. I’m saving all what I’ve got to say until my boy comes home.’
‘I thought you might.’ Molly tossed back her hair and folded her arms. ‘Well, there’s nothing in Uncle Jack’s being here, so put that in your pipe and smoke it!’
‘I will, girl, don’t you worry. And I’ll see meself out.’
‘No. I’ll see you out. I want to make sure you’ve gone!’
Affronted, Ma marched out of the house.
After that all the fight went out of Molly and she collapsed on the sofa. Trouble, that’s what she faced when Frank came home. Trouble with a capital T. Should she scarper? Where could she go? The money from the sovereign was gone. Perhaps it was time to face up to life as it really was? She had flung at Nathan the fact that she had made vows before God. Perhaps it was time she seriously set about honouring those vows? Many of the neighbours considered Frank some kind of hero. He deserved a hero’s welcome. If nothing else it might get her off the hook.
* * *
It was with this thought in mind that Molly flung herself into Frank’s arms as soon as she set eyes on him. ‘I’m so glad you’re home, luv. I’ve done your favourite dinner: spare ribs, fried potatoes and cabbage.’ She gave him a dazzling smile.
He held her at arm’s length, his jaw set. ‘I must go to prison more often. Only, would I be getting this kind of welcome if you didn’t have a guilty conscience over a certain bargee?’
Molly’s smile faded. ‘You went to Ma’s before coming here?’
‘It was on my way and I wanted her to know I was OK. I also wanted to know what it was you said to her.’
Molly turned away from him and went over to the fire. ‘She told me she didn’t believe me.’
‘She believes you’re a liar. And that you were down at the lockfields seeing that bargee!’ His expression was suddenly thunderous. ‘So what have you got to say for yourself, girl?’
Molly realised there was no point in getting angry. It would only ignite further fury in him. ‘Only what I’ve said before. Uncle Jack’s like a father to me.’ Her voice was low.
‘So you keep saying. Perhaps it’s a father you’re really looking for? Because your own pa died when you were only a little girl.’
Words suddenly rang in her head. A body could so easily go in. Afoot in a coil of rope. Splash! She shook her head to rid herself of the picture the words created. She cleared her throat and concentrated on Frank. ‘That’s not true. Of course I wish my father had lived, but I’m not looking for a father. You can believe what you want but it’s not true.’
‘I don’t know what to believe.’ Frank’s head drooped and he sounded hopeless all of a sudden.
‘Well, try believing something that makes sense. Do you think I’d go risking getting with child by another man when I’m scared out of my wits of such a thing?’ She took a step towards him. ‘Believe me, Frank.’ She placed a hand on his shoulder.
‘I want to believe you.’
Again she put her arms round him. ‘Believe me.’
He reached up and pulled her down on his knee and kissed her. Then, without a word, he lifted her up and carried her upstairs. She could only say weakly, ‘What about George? A couple of girls have taken him to the park. They might come back.’
‘Then they’ll knock and one of us’ll have to answer it.’
Molly said no more. She had put clean sheets on their bed in preparation and the smell of the wash house was on them. In a way it was like so many other times when he’d arrived home from sea but never had she felt she must prove to him that he was the only one in the world for her. It wasn’t true but her life wasn’t going to be worth living unless he believed it. She remembered the act she’d had to put on when the real Jessica had died and summoned up all her resources to convince him she really cared for him.
Later, as she watched him devour his food, Frank smiled across the table at her. ‘Another baby, Moll. That’s what you’re missing.’ She was silent, fingers tightening on her fork. Her son’s illness had gone some way to convincing her that another baby mightn’t be such a bad thing. If she had lost George her arms would have felt empty indeed. Still she was scared. ‘George needs a brother or sister,’ continued Frank. ‘And I’ll be around to help you now. I won’t let you die, Moll.’
She half-smiled, thinking, He believes he’s God now. ‘What about getting a job?’
‘My old priest came to visit me in prison and I told him what I planned. He brought me paper and envelopes and the like and saw that my letters got into the right hands.’ She was impressed by his determination. ‘So which wash house are you going to?’
‘Burrough’s Gardens.’
Molly stared at him. ‘But that’s local!’
‘That’s what I want. I’ll be able to come home in the middle of the day and see you and George.’ His eyes glinted at her. ‘Be a proper father to him, and husband to you.’
She said lightly, ‘If I thought, Frank, you were only doing this to keep an eye on me, I’d be really cross.’
‘Molly, sweetheart!’ He reached out across the table to her. ‘I want to be with you. What’s wrong with that? You should be pleased to have me around more. It’s what you’ve always said you wanted.’
She did not believe him. He didn’t trust her and for that she only had herself to blame.
Shortly afterwards he left the house. She expected him back in an hour or two but he was still out when the girls brought George home and Mrs McNally dropped by.
‘I’ve been up at the wash house. Your Frank’s there. All the women are making a fuss of him, saying he’s a hero for going to prison. He’s lapping it up. Singing along with the Mary Ellens, putting on the Irish as if he was one of them. “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen” and all that. It’s a real turn up for the book, isn’t it, him getting a job there? Yer have to be pleased, girl?’
‘I do, don’t I?’ She smiled, thinking if she had to force a smile anymore that day her face would crack.
Frank swaggered home four hours later with a grin almost as big as a banana on his face. ‘And where’ve you been?’ Molly said quietly, placing his supper plate on the table.
‘Started work right away. Doesn’t that make you happy, Moll? Money coming in at last.’
‘Deliriously.’
‘Then where’s your smile?’ he teased, prodding her gently on the back of the hand with his fork.
She snatched her hand away just as Cath walked through the door.
His sister stopped abruptly on seeing Frank. ‘So you’re home?’
‘And got a job.’
‘Already?’ She looked relieved. ‘When d’you sail?’
‘Tell her, Moll. Tell her that her big brother is going to be around from now on so there’ll be no messing about with that Jimmy in this house.’ Cath’s face fell and without a word she turned and left. ‘Perhaps she’ll get Jimmy to marry her now. Or go back to Ma’s,’ said Frank.
But Cath did neither and Molly was relieved she was staying, not wanting to be alone with Frank in the evenings.
In the days that followed she was on pins. Jimmy had told her that Nathan had returned from training camp so she half-expected him to turn up on her doorstep. His knowing Frank was home just might drive him to do something crazy, such as demanding his son and flinging her misdemeanour in Frank’s face. But weeks passed and there was still no sign of him.
Then one murky October Sunday Cath arrived home from an outing with Jimmy.
‘Have you heard?’ she said.
‘Heard what? You and Jimmy tying the knot?’
Cath said with a smile, ‘I’m working on it. I thought you might have seen Doris. I only said hello. It’s Jimmy who told me the news but she’ll probably know more. Maybe she’ll drop in?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Molly untied her apron.
Cath glanced around. ‘Our Frank out?’
> ‘He’s taken George down to the Pierhead to see the ships so you can say what you want.’
Cath’s expression sobered. ‘There’s a rumour going round the factory that Mr Collins and Miss Braithwaite are getting married.’
Molly sat down abruptly, her apron falling to the floor. For a moment she was devoid of speech before managing to catch her breath. ‘It’s only a rumour then?’
Cath nodded and said uncomfortably, ‘But perhaps it’s just as well he marries someone else, Moll? It’ll help you to put all you felt for him out of your heart.’
Molly stared at her then laughed. ‘You’ve no idea! I’ll go and see Doris.’ She almost ran out of the house and over to Mrs McNally’s.
Doris opened the front door and immediately the light in her eyes dimmed. ‘Yer’d best come in. I thought it wouldn’t take long before yer heard.’
‘It’s true then?’ said Molly, a tremor in her voice.
‘Yeah. I don’t think it’s a love match, though,’ she said hastily. ‘It’s for expediency. Or that’s the word Charlie used.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Doris screwed up her face. ‘I think it means useful. Her being a suffragette, she doesn’t like men that much, does she? Come and have a cup of tea and I’ll tell yer all about it.’ She linked her arm through Molly’s and dragged her into the kitchen.
‘She’s told yer then about her and Charlie?’ said Mrs McNally, sitting with her other daughters, skirts turned up, warming her legs in front of the fire. ‘I don’t know where the money’s coming from for the do.’
‘You and Charlie!’ Molly turned to her friend. ‘You two are getting married as well?’
She nodded, facing her mother. ‘And, Ma, I’ve told you not to worry. Me and Charlie’ll see to it all. He’s got a bit of money put by. We don’t want too much of a fuss – him with only one hand and me with me bow legs. It’d be like a freak show.’
Molly was feeling terrible but she squeezed Doris’s hand. ‘I think it’s lovely! Best news I’ve heard for a long time. When’s it to be?’
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