The Forgotten Daughter

by Mary Wood

  She knew now about his business dealings, and how he got the riches he had, although they never spoke about them. Not after she’d found out about one of his pursuits – prostituting young lasses – and had tackled him about it. That had caused her to suffer the worst beating of all the beatings she’d suffered at Abe’s hands.

  On the other hand, he could be gentle and kind. He was generous in his support of her school, and towards her, if she needed anything; and he cared for Freddy, and looked on them both as his family.

  ‘What’s to do with the boy? Every time I come in, he goes out! That’s disrespect.’

  ‘Naw, Abe. The lad’s growing up. He looks on things differently to us. He loves you, I knaw that, but he’s . . . well, there’s things about us that he’s no longer comfortable with, and he’s a lot on his mind.’

  Pru told him of Freddy’s leaning towards the military. ‘How will I bear it, Abe?’

  Abe took her in his arms. Normally she’d yield to him and take comfort, even if she had no feelings for him, but her fear for her son ran too deep.

  ‘Anything can happen. We’ve talked about this, Pru. Where’s my spirited girl who can take on anything that comes her way, eh? You have to prepare yourself, darlin’. Even I might have to go, in the end. The news is full of how the number of volunteers is dropping. Can they wonder at it? It seems like signing your own death-warrant to me.’

  ‘I knaw. I’ve read how there’s talk of forcing men to go. Oh, Abe, it’s all a nightmare.’

  ‘We don’t know the half of it, love. And it’s bloody inconvenient. It’s affecting imports now, and that has a knock-on effect on my business.’

  Once more Abe held her close. She could feel his need, but she wasn’t in the mood. Pulling from him, she moved away.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing? You ain’t refusing me, are you?’

  ‘It’s the middle of the afternoon, Abe.’

  ‘That’s never bothered you before. Come here, I want my dues.’

  ‘Your dues, is it? Abe, I’m not one of your prostitutes, and I’m not a never-ending supplier of your pleasure, whenever you need it! I’ve a lot on me plate and—’

  Abe rushed at her and grabbed her arm. His grip hurt her, his voice a threatening growl. ‘Don’t say things like that, ever! I don’t use you. I never have. I love you. And don’t you use what we have for your own gain, neither. I won’t stand for it.’

  Love, huh – does he even know the meaning of the word?

  ‘A – Abe, let go, you’re hurting me. I don’t knaw what you mean. I – I . . . Abe!’

  Her body hit the table. Resisting his strength was useless. He turned Pru and bent her over.

  ‘Abe, naw. Don’t. It’s alreet. We’ll go to me bed. I’m reet sorry. I didn’t mean . . . Abe, naw!’

  Not heeding her words, he shoved her head down, banging it on the table. Memories of him raping her in the past came to her, and she knew it gave him pleasure beyond what was normal. Her fear increased, as she thought of him tearing her as he pounded the back of her. ‘Naw, naw, Abe!’

  ‘Leave my mother alone! Get off her. You pig!’

  Shock held Pru unable to move, as she felt Abe jarring from her.

  ‘Get out of here, kid!’

  ‘No, you get out – and don’t come back. You’re not welcome, and my ma isn’t going to be your mistress ever again!’

  Humiliated in the extreme, Pru lifted herself in time to see Abe jump towards Freddy. Her scream hurt her own ears, as she saw his fist smash into Freddy’s face. Freddy’s eyes rolled and his body slumped to the ground. Lifting the rolling pin, Pru brought it down on the back of Abe’s head. Where she found the strength, she didn’t know, but the force of the blow caused a loud cracking sound on impact.

  She stood staring down at the two bodies on the floor. A moaning noise, which she knew she was making but couldn’t stop, filled the space around her as her mind screamed, ‘Freddy, Freddy! Naw! Naw . . . !’

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘I can’t let you see your father, Flora, it will upset him too much. The stress brought on by your antics has caused this. He’s been worried sick over you. Oh, it didn’t help when that slut who used to be your nanny turned up here, trying to pass off her son as your father’s. But you – you didn’t even bother to send a letter to put his mind at rest! You’re a disgrace!’

  Flora cringed at Pru being called a slut, but decided to ignore it. She didn’t want to deny Pru; nor did she want her mother to know the huge part that Pru had played in her life.

  ‘Mother, that isn’t how it was. I couldn’t write. All communication was cut off. The Red Cross director told me that he had kept all parents informed.’ She didn’t say what she thought: I doubt any letter from me would have got to Daddy anyway, as it would most probably have been intercepted by you.

  The tension in the air in Mother’s sitting room eased, with the entrance of Harold. ‘Ah, the Prodigal Daughter.’

  ‘Hello, Harold. Nice to see you, too.’

  ‘Come here.’ Harold surprised Flora by crossing the room and taking her in his arms. ‘I’ve been worried about you. Are you all right?’

  The gesture brought the tears Flora didn’t want. ‘I’m fine. I’ve had a bit of a time of it. But I’m home now.’

  ‘Home?’

  ‘Mother! For goodness’ sake, this is Flora’s home. What is the problem with you? Why are you so vindictive about Flora?’

  Flora never thought in a million years that Harold would stand up for her. ‘I’m Father’s sin, that’s why. Born of an apology for one of his many indiscretions, and Mother cannot forgive me for it.’

  ‘Good God, really?’

  ‘Stop it. Stop it! You vile girl! Oh, why did I ever have to have you?’

  ‘Mother! No, you stop it. Stop it now. Flora is my sister – your daughter. I forbid you to treat her like this.’

  ‘You forbid me . . . You . . . How dare you? You don’t know the half of it. You think you are the heir, don’t you? Well, you have a shock coming to you, as your father has a far greater sin out there that will usurp you. Then you will want me on your side, as I have always been. Then you won’t forbid me to acknowledge this . . . this reminder of what he did to me – to you!’

  ‘What are you talking about, Mother?’

  Flora felt afraid to hear the answer. Something floated in her memory. A mention, when she was a child, of a son older than her brothers. Is there another Freddy somewhere?

  ‘You will find out soon enough.’ With this, Mother sat down and sobbed into a cushion. When she lifted her head, a tirade spewed from her, about how wronged she had been by their father. How none of it was her fault, and how she suffered it all for the sake of her sons.

  Harold softened. ‘Mother, please. Don’t upset yourself. I’m sure you’re confused. Of course I am father’s heir. Anyway, I don’t wish to talk about it. I’ll get a cup of tea brought to you. And I’m sorry, but I am going to go against your wishes and am taking Flora up to see Father. It would be cruel not to, given the possible outcome, after what has happened to him.’

  Ignoring their mother’s wails, Harold once more put his arm around Flora and guided her out of the room.

  ‘Flora, we’ve been kept apart too long. Mother has treated you appallingly, and so has Father. Oh, I know he has kept in touch with you, but to permit what has happened to you is unbelievable. I admit I never cared much, but when I knew you were in danger, I realized how much you meant to me.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault, Harold. Mother is Mother, and gave you a different view of everything.’ Putting her arm around him, she squeezed his waist. ‘I’m glad that we’re friends now, though, big brother.’

  Harold smiled. A crooked, funny smile – almost sinister. Flora dismissed the thought. She was being silly. Harold was being lovely to her. Why, then, did she still feel doubt about him?

  ‘What did you make of what Mother said, old girl?’

  ‘I – I don’t know
. It was all very strange. I don’t think Mother is well; she’s unbalanced in some way. I – I mean, she can’t help the way she is.’

  ‘No. I think that, too. She is getting stranger by the day. How is Pru? Father told me that you stay with her when you are home, and have done since you were a little girl.’

  ‘She’s wonderful.’ Flora hesitated. Should I tell him about Freddy?

  Harold’s next words stopped her. ‘Mother always calls her “that slut” – do you know why?’

  Feeling cornered, Flora tried to pass off the remark. ‘I think Mother imagines that Father took a fancy to Aunt Pru when she was my nanny.’

  ‘Aunt?’

  ‘Oh, it’s just a polite form of address. I couldn’t keep on calling her Nanny Pru. And she is like an aunt to me . . . No, more than that. She’s the mother I never had. I love her very much.’

  ‘Dear, dear, Flora, I didn’t know you had stooped that low.’ Before she could protest at this comment, they had reached their father’s bedroom. ‘Now, you are likely to be shocked, Flora. Father is very weak.’

  Shocked didn’t describe how she felt when she saw her father. He seemed to have shrivelled up into a little old man. ‘Daddy. Oh, Daddy!’

  ‘Flora, shush!’

  ‘N – no, don’t shush her. Flora, my darling, you’re home.’

  ‘I am, Daddy. I’m safe. Forgive me, but I couldn’t contact you, as there was no means for me to do so.’

  ‘I – I underst—’ Her father’s words turned into a heaving breathlessness.

  ‘Oh, Daddy, don’t try to talk. You need air. What are they doing to you, keeping you in this semi-light, with the windows all closed? It’s so stuffy in here. That won’t help your breathing at all!’

  ‘Don’t interfere, Flora. Mother has engaged a good, qualified nurse, which is more than you are.’

  ‘I may not be qualified, but these last months I have done the work of a doctor, let alone a nurse. The stuffiness of this room will do Daddy no good. He needs oxygen. Open the window, Harold.’

  ‘And what do you think you are doing? Who said you could even enter this sickroom?’ A nurse bristled in from the adjoining bathroom.

  ‘I did. I am the daughter of your patient, and I have experience of nursing. A heart-patient needs oxygen, and there is hardly any in this room. I am ordering that you keep it aired at all times. You can keep your patient warm by other means, and you can wear a coat, if necessary.’

  The indignant look on the nurse’s face almost got Flora giggling. But there was no further argument from the woman.

  ‘My father isn’t dead yet, and treating him as though he is can only be detrimental to him. Harold, go round to the other side of the bed and help to lift Daddy to a sitting position. Put those extra pillows behind him – that’s right. There, Daddy, is that better?’

  ‘It – it is, darling. Much better.’ Flora watched her father fill his lungs with air and breathe out slowly. After a few seconds of this, some of the blueness in his face began to turn pink again.

  ‘When is your doctor due, Daddy? What is his prognosis?’

  ‘If you mean what is the – the outcome for me, it isn’t good.’

  ‘Daddy, just because you’ve had a slight heart attack – and it must have been slight, or you wouldn’t be here now – it doesn’t mean you are going to die.’

  ‘Flora! How dare you give Father false hope like this? His doctor has said . . . well, he hasn’t said what you are saying. He thinks there is no way Father can recover. I – I’m sorry, Father.’

  ‘Dr James is old-fashioned. His way of thinking is that a more massive heart attack will follow very quickly, but that needn’t be the case. Have you even been to hospital, Daddy?’

  ‘N – no, Mother called James in, and that was that. I’ve just been waiting to – to die.’

  ‘I’ll get in touch with a young physician I worked with before going to Belgium; his name’s Dr Carmichael. At least let’s get a second opinion.’ Turning towards the astonished nurse, who stood as if turned to stone, Flora gave her an order. ‘Nurse, in the meantime I want you to keep this room airy at all times. I want my father sitting up to aid his breathing, and he is to have plenty of fluids. Keep a chart, so that I can check. And check all his vital signs on a regular basis. You do have the necessary equipment, don’t you?’

  ‘I was told that it was just basic care of a dying man, Miss.’

  ‘Well, it’s not your fault. I’m sure you did your best for him, under the orders that you received, but I am changing those. I’ll see to it that you have all you need. You are now looking after a patient who has every prospect of getting better, and you can help in that, with your excellent nursing skills.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss.’

  ‘I’ll be back shortly, Daddy. Don’t worry: you’re going to live, so get on with planning your future, not your death.’

  She was rewarded by a smile that was full of hope, and her heart went out to her beloved father.

  ‘How dare you interfere, Flora?’ The door of the bedroom was hardly closed behind them when Harold attacked her. ‘Just who do you think you are – a bloody doctor, or something? You’re just a bloody volunteer, and nothing more. If Dr James says that Father is dying, then he is!’

  ‘You sound as though that is what you want to happen, Harold.’

  ‘I – I . . . Of course I don’t. But I don’t want Father given false hope, either, or to prolong the agony of his dying. He was resigned, he—’

  ‘That’s just it. He had no hope and he was giving up. Well, now he does have hope. I can’t say that he will live, but I want to give him the very best chance to. He deserves that much from us.’

  ‘Of course, but . . . well, I don’t know what to do now. I was preparing myself for taking over everything – I mean . . .’

  Flora knew exactly what he meant. ‘You will still have to take the reins, but if Daddy recovers, you must let him have a say; make him feel that he is needed, and that you still lean on him, even if you don’t.’

  The look that Harold gave her was one of a child who’d had something taken from him, and it held spite. That worried her. Her mother’s words came back to her. Was it all going to be taken away from Harold anyway? She felt no surprise at the thought of another brother out there somewhere. She’d long accepted what her father was like.

  ‘Changing the subject: where is Francis?’

  ‘Oh, of course – you don’t know.’

  The whereabouts of Francis came as another shock. ‘He’s an officer!’

  ‘Well, not yet. He won’t pass out of Sandringham for another year. He’s hoping that by then it will be all over, bar the shouting. But he thought it better to jump rather than wait to be pushed. Besides, he felt he would be safer as an officer.’

  ‘Pushed?’

  ‘There’s talk of conscription by next year.’

  Flora’s mind immediately went to Freddy. But no, he would still be too young, wouldn’t he? ‘What about you? Will you have to go, Harold?’

  ‘I bloody hope not! I’m thinking of relocating, to take more of a role in running the mill. It is expanding, with all the cloth needed for new uniforms and tents, et cetera. Most of those jobs are considered essential. Uncle Steven is getting on and has no heir, and the mill is expected to come to me anyway, so I’m going to try to persuade him to put me in the most-needed position on the management team, and take my chances from there. I don’t agree with the bloody war, let alone want to offer my services to fight in it.’

  Flora’s joy at the greeting she’d had from Harold was dissolving with every minute. He hadn’t changed. He was still number one, in his own eyes. He was even willing to sacrifice his father for his own aims and ambitions. Well, if she could help it, that wasn’t going to happen, although she did worry that there was a possibility she was giving Daddy false hope. She didn’t know how bad his heart attack had been, or how much damage it had done to her father.

  ‘Well, I wish you luck
. Now do something for me, will you? Help me to stand up to Mother, on Daddy’s behalf.’

  Something of the brother she’d detected when she first arrived came to the fore once more. ‘Very well, old thing. If it will please you, but I’m not saying that I agree with you.’

  He was complex, this brother of hers. The age difference between them had not mattered too much when they were younger, but she detected that, despite Harold’s indifference to her then, he had loved her, and still loved her now. But mostly, she suspected, it would be on his terms. For some reason it seemed to suit him for the moment to be seen to defy their mother; for what reason, though, she couldn’t imagine.

  ‘Flora, I might need your help, too. Let’s go into the morning room before we approach Mother, so that I can explain.’

  ‘I need to get in touch with Dr Carmichael first. It is imperative that we act quickly.’

  ‘Well, send one of the maids with a message. We can tell Mother we have done as we saw fit, and then she can’t object.’

  ‘One of the maids – how many do we have now?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Never seems enough for Mother. There’s one called Susan. She has her wits about her, I’ll send for her.’

  Harold seemed very familiar with the girl, to call her by her first name, or even to know what her name was!

  With the message on its way, Flora asked Harold to tell her how she could help.

  ‘I’m worried about what Mother knows. She has said that Father had an affair with Pru. Do you know anything about that?’

  ‘I’d rather not say, Harold. It isn’t for me to tell you.’

  ‘That means it is true. And has Pru got a child that could be Father’s?’

  ‘Harold, this conversation isn’t one you should be having with me. I can’t tell you anything. Anyway, how will it help you to know?’

  ‘I need to know what competition I have. Am I the eldest or not? You heard what Mother said: that someone could usurp me. That sounds as though Father has an older son.’

  Flora couldn’t answer this. Harold’s words resonated with what she’d heard as a child and what their mother had said today, but it might just be Mother rambling on. ‘I don’t know any more than you do. Anyway, if it’s true, there’s nothing you can do about it.’