A Dream to Share

by A Dream to Share (retail) (epub)

  Hannah placed the hotpot in the oven of the black-leaded range and then straightened up. She glanced in the direction of the table where Tilly was chalking on a slate that Kenny had bought her. This time next year the girl would be at school and Hannah was determined she would know her letters and be able to count to ten by then. Once she wanted to be a teacher but her mother had told her it was out of the question. Reminded of her mother, Hannah sighed and wished she would stop calling round every day. She knew she was fond of Tilly but Susannah had started to ask questions about why Hannah hadn’t started a baby yet. She wondered how her mother could be so thoughtless, knowing what she did. She had almost been tempted to tell her about Bert’s threatening letters.

  Yesterday, Hannah had received another one. Its reference to the past had filled her with such anguish that, instead of showing it to Kenny, she had burnt it, poking the charred remains until they had completely disintegrated. Whilst up in Scotland on honeymoon, Hannah had been able to put Bert out of her mind and her marriage had been consummated but since returning home and the arrival of more letters from Bert, she was finding it more and more difficult to relax and allow Kenny to be intimate with her. As soon as he lifted her night­ gown and she felt his bare flesh against hers, panic rose inside her and she went rigid. Last night he had soothed her, holding her in his arms and kissing her tear-stained face, telling her it didn’t matter. But of course it did. As well as trying to ruin her life, Bert was now threaten­ing to find Alice and make her pay for jilting him.

  ‘Look!’ Tilly held up the slate. Relieved at being distracted from her­ thoughts, Hannah went over to the girl and sat at the table. As she took the slate from her, she thought how attractive Tilly looked in the pow­der-blue frock, covered by a white starched pinafore, frilled at the hem and over the shoulders. ‘You’re not saying anything,’ said Tilly, pulling on her arm.

  Hannah gazed down at the drawing of the cat and smiled. It was cross-eyed and its head was much too big for its body. Even so Tilly had caught its likeness near enough. ‘Clever, Tilly! You must take after Kenny. He’s good at getting a likeness too.’ Kenny was a bookkeeper for Mr Bushell, the coal merchant, and any spare time he had was spent writing articles and drawing cartoons, which he sent off to the Chester Chronicle and the Liverpool’s Daily Post. ‘Now let’s write the word CAT underneath your drawing – and in the corner your name.’

  Carefully Hannah wrote c-a-t and then M-a-r-t-h-a M-a-t-i-1-d-a M-o-r-a-n, saying each letter aloud as she did so. Hannah was ambi­tious for the girl, dreaming of her becoming a teacher one day. Hannah had attended meetings of the Women’s Suffrage Movement where some women advocated better education and opportunities for girls like Tilly, so she was making certain that if the opportunity should arise then the girl would be prepared.

  Tilly climbed onto her knee and snuggled up against her, demand­ing a story. Hannah was happy to sit and tell her fairy stories, it helped her to forget her problems for a while. She gazed into the blazing fire, grateful that Kenny’s working for Mr Bushell meant they were never short of coal. Tilly relaxed in her arms, Hannah’s own eyelids began to droop.

  ’Little pig, little pig, let me in!’

  She started and struggled to open her eyes. Sleepily she looked in the direction of the window and her heart seemed to jerk inside her breast. Carefully, as if in a dream, she got up and placed Tilly on the sofa before walking slowly over to the window. A sheet of paper appeared to be stuck to the outside. Bump, bump, bump went her heart. She did not want to believe that Bert had climbed over the backyard wall and shout­ed the words from the nursery rhyme, which he had once shouted out­side her bedroom door. She reached out a hand. The paper vanished and a grinning face flattened itself against the window. Hannah had time only to recognise Bert before she slid to the floor, unconscious.

  * * *

  Kenny put his key in the lock and the mouth-watering smell of hotpot welcomed him in. ‘I’m home, Hanny,’ he shouted.

  He removed his shoes and padded into the back room in his stockinged feet, only to freeze at the sight of his wife on the floor. For a moment Kenny felt as if his heart stopped beating and then he took a deep breath. Crossing the room he slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her up. He was about to place her on the sofa when he saw Tilly curled up fast asleep, so he looked about him for somewhere else to put Hannah. It was then that she stirred in his arms, her eyelids fluttered open, and she gazed anxiously up into his face before smiling at him. His relief was intense. ‘Thank God! I found you on the floor. What happened?’

  She did not answer him immediately but frowned and, twisting in his arms, gazed towards the window. Bert had been outside! She looked round for Tilly and saw her asleep on the sofa. She sighed with relief, glad the back door had been locked and she had removed the key on a string from the front door. Kenny had insisted on her taking no chances when she was alone in the house since the first letter had arrived.

  ‘Hanny, are you OK?’ said Kenny, giving her a little shake.

  She decided he had to know the truth. ‘I was telling stories to Tilly and I dozed off. Then I heard a voice saying “Little pig, little pig, let me in!” I looked towards the window.’ She moistened her lips. ‘Bert was there grinning at me through the glass. I was so terrified I must have fainted.’

  ‘I’m going to report this to the police.’ Kenny’s expression was grim as he felt her head. ‘There’s a bump here. You’re sure you’re OK?’

  ‘I’m fine. You can put me down now.’

  ‘If you’re sure?’

  ‘Of course, I’m sure.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘I’ll see to supper while you get washed.’

  ‘No! Supper can wait. I’ll get washed and changed then I’m going to report this to the police.’ Kenny set Hannah on her feet and then ran water in the sink.

  Hannah watched him removed his outer clothes and hang them on a hook on the inside of the door. ‘If you think it’ll do some good. Will you tell them about the letter?’

  Kenny nodded. He loved his wife and, although it was frustrating and a grief to him that Bert was still managing to come between them, he was determined to do something about it and not let it get him down. The worst thing in life he could imagine was losing Hanny and he worried constantly that, somehow, Bert would get to her. He washed his hands, neck and face at the sink, drying them on a rough towel.

  Hannah smiled at him and then kissed him. ‘I love you,’ she said. At that moment Tilly woke and rolling over, gazed at them for sev­eral minutes. Then she laughed and slid off the sofa and skipped over to Kenny. ‘I want a love too,’ she said, holding up her arms to him.

  Kenny lifted his half-sister onto his knee and hugged her to him. He was so grateful that he had the two of them to love and was loved in return – and who was to say that he mightn’t get his hands on Bert one day and choke the life out of him. He went upstairs and got changed and left the house.

  But Kenny was to get little satisfaction from the police. The ser­geant on the desk said that as Bert had made no attempt to break into the house and attack Hannah, no charge could be brought again him. Regarding the threatening letter, without it to show as evidence, there was no proof of his having sent it. The only comfort Kenny could draw on from his visit was that if Bert were to send any more letters then he could take them straight along to the police station. Also, the bobby on the beat would be alerted to keep a watch out for a man answering to Bert’s description in the vicinity of Hannah’s and Kenny’s home.

  * * *

  Bert hummed beneath his breath as he took off his overcoat and hung it on a hook in the tiny lobby. A black and white cat stropped his trouser leg and he pushed it away with the side of his foot.

  ‘Is that you, Mr Temple?’ called a woman’s voice.

  Bert had decided that having a pseudonym was not only fun but sen­sible. ‘Unless you’ve got yourself another lodger, Mrs Evans,’ he responded in jocular tones.

  ‘You will have your joke,’ s
he said with a chuckle, popping her grey head round the kitchen door. ‘Your supper’s ready.’

  ‘And excellent suppers you make, Mrs Evans. The sun was really shining on me when I was led to your door.’ Bert smiled as he removed his cap and smoothed his flaxen hair. ‘I’ll just have a quick wash and change. I had to go on an errand for the boss to Chester – and what with all the smuts from the engine, I feel filthy.’

  As he went upstairs, Bert thought back to the day he had arrived here. He had been taken on by a shipping engineering works in Ellesmere Port – where the Shropshire Union Canal joined the Manchester Ship Canal – and whilst strolling round the town had seen a card in a shop window advertising a room to rent and that’s how he had found Mrs Evans. His landlady was a widow; her children had married and moved away so she was lonely.

  She looked after him well, although, of course, she could never take the place of his mother. His blue eyes were bleak as he remembered Susannah sending him away, despite his knowing she was hurting as much as he was at the time. Over six months had passed since then and he was hoping that she would be ready to see him now.

  As he removed his jacket and shirt, his mind was composing a letter to his mother. Its tone would be very different to the ones he had sent to Hannah. He laughed suddenly, remembering her terrified face through the window earlier that day. Yet, he had no intention of hurt­ing her physically. No! He just wanted to make sure that she would never forget what had happened between them. As for Alice – his eyes darkened and his mouth set in an ugly line – he had every intention of making her pay dearly for jilting him and playing her part in making his mother so distressed she had felt that she had to send him away.

  * * *

  Alice sat in the back of the motorcar, eavesdropping on Victoria’s con­versation with Seb in the front. They had been shopping and were now on their way home. She was asking him whether the letter he had received that morning from America had given any hint to when they could expect a visit from his lady friend. He muttered something indis­tinct about Juliana having to fulfil other commitments before she could arrange to come to England. Alice found some comfort in hearing those words. It was difficult enough living in close proximity with Seb, without having to cope with seeing him with the new woman in his life. She wondered not for the first time just what Seb had told his future wife about her. Was he in love with the American as much as he had been with her? If he was then perhaps they would get married before the year was out.

  She gazed at the back of his head where his dark hair curled into the nape of his neck. He seemed so much more confident and refined since his return. Perhaps it was Juliana and her family thinking so much of him that had boosted his morale. Her heart ached. The memory of their kisses made her doubly realise what a fool she had been to give him up. If she had been sensible they could have been married by now and there would have been no need for her to have ever got involved with Bert. Thank God, he had no idea where to find her. How different it was for poor Hanny. Could his mother have possibly told him where her eldest daughter and Kenny lived or had it been one of the neighbours, who believed he could do no wrong?

  To Alice’s surprise, as the car neared the house, she caught sight of Hannah leaning against Mrs Black’s garden wall. Alice waved and called her name. Hannah looked up and, lifting her skirts, ran after the car. By the time she caught up with the vehicle, it had parked and Alice was holding open the garden gate for Victoria to pass through. Seb, who was unloading the shopping, glanced her way. ‘Hanny!’ he exclaimed in astonishment.

  Hannah’s face lit up. ‘Seb, how are you? It’s lovely to see you.’

  He smiled. ‘Nice of you to say so.’

  ‘I presume Alice has told you that Kenny and I were married in June,’ she said.

  Without looking at Alice, Seb shook his head. ‘We haven’t really had a chance to talk.’ He bent his head and dropped a kiss on Hannah’s cheek. ‘Congratulations. I wish you and Kenny all the best.’

  Jealousy welled up inside Alice and, for an instant, she wanted to scratch her friend’s eyes out but, instead, she demanded to know what Hannah was doing there.

  ‘I had another letter yesterday,’ she whispered, ‘and also a visit from him.’

  Alice stared at her, not wanting to believe her. ‘What did he do?’ she breathed.

  ‘He just grinned at me through the window.’ Hannah shuddered. ‘It was horrible! Kenny doesn’t know about the letter because I burnt it… but I thought you should know that he threatened to find you.’

  Alice’s nervous fingers released the gate and it banged shut. ‘You’re serious,’ she said in a trembling voice.

  Hannah nodded. ‘Kenny went to the police but they said they couldn’t do anything as he didn’t break in,’ she whispered.

  ‘What about the letters?’

  ‘I should have kept them as proof. I will the next one.’

  Alice’s bottom lip quivered and she had to clear her throat before asking, ‘You weren’t followed?’

  ‘Only by our Joy watching my back. No sign of him so far.’

  Sebastian’s frowning gaze went from Alice to Hannah. ‘Who are you talking about? Is it Alice’s dad she’s scared of?’

  ‘No,’ said Alice shortly, thinking now was hardly the time to start explaining to him about her involvement with Bert. Besides, what right had she to expect any help from him even if he was prepared to give it? She took the astonished Hannah’s arm. ‘Let’s go somewhere we can talk in private,’ she whispered, hurrying her away.

  Hannah glanced over her shoulder at Sebastian, a question in her eyes. He shrugged and walked up the garden path, carrying the shopping. Hannah withdrew her arm from Alice’s grasp and stared at her. ‘When did Seb come home? Why haven’t you sorted things out with him?’

  Alice swallowed. ‘It’s too late for that.’

  Hannah stared at her in dismay. ‘What d’you mean too late? And hadn’t you better check with Miss Victoria first that it’s OK for you to come with me?’

  Alice brushed her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I should have told you. He met someone at the hospital in New York. There’s talk of an engagement and her coming over here. When she does I’ll have to find another job and somewhere else to live. I did have one go at it but backed out when I realised I’d be just a domestic.’

  Hannah’s face fell. ‘Oh lord!’

  Alice rushed into further speech. ‘You don’t have to look like that. I’m not going to dump myself on you and Kenny. I’m going to get out of Chester and live somewhere else. I’ll take Tilly with me. It’s time I took responsibility for her.’

  ‘Now stop right there,’ said Hannah, scowling.’How will you man­age to support the pair of you? You’ll end up in the workhouse in no time at all.’

  Alice sniffed back tears. ‘Most probably. Perhaps I’ll go and live somewhere else on my own then. A place where I won’t have to see Seb everyday and Bert can’t find me… Manchester maybe.’

  Hannah put her hands on her hips and cried, ‘That’s stupid! Even if you got a live-in job you wouldn’t be able to afford the rail fare to visit us very often. You’d hardly see Tilly at all. Besides, you’d be lonely. You can’t go running away,’ she added firmly.

  Alice felt like saying It’s easy for you to say that because you’ve got a husband now but she knew Hannah’s words made sense. ‘OK. I won’t run away but I must look for another position when Juliana comes.’

  ‘Is that her name?’

  Alice nodded, wiping her face with the back of her hand as they walked slowly side by side.

  Hannah said, ‘They can’t have known each other long. It could be a flash in the pan. I wouldn’t give up on him yet.’

  ‘He hates me!’ Alice reached for the handkerchief up her sleeve and blew her nose violently.

  ‘Has he said he hates you?’

  ‘If you could have seen the way he looked at me in Liverpool. He’s hardly spoken to me since he’s been back.’

/>   ‘Well, you did throw him over.’

  Alice stopped in the middle of the bridge and rested her arms on the rail, gazing down at the water. ‘I don’t want to talk about him anymore. What are we going to do about Bert? He’ll probably have realised by now that Kenny’ll have told the police. If only we knew where he was living.’

  Before Hannah could agree, they were joined by Joy. She had been keeping a lookout at the other end of the bridge. ‘No sign of him,’ she said, leaning on the rail next to her sister. ‘You do realise you’re con­spicuous standing here.’

  Instantly Alice fled back the way she had come.

  The sisters stared after her in astonishment. ‘Should I go after her?’ asked Joy.

  A wan-faced Hannah shook her head.

  Alice pushed open the Waters’ gate and rushed up the path, blinded by tears. She went round to the back of the house and opened the door, hoping the kitchen was empty, only to find Seb’s mother, Gabrielle, in the act of removing a steaming kettle from the gas ring. Their eyes met and the girl was surprised to see that the hauteur and suppressed anger, usually present when the woman looked at her, was missing.

  ‘You hungry? I could make you a ham sandwich if you wish?’ said Gabrielle, her dark eyes searching Alice’s flushed face.

  ‘Th – Thank you!’ Alice wondered to what did she owe this change of attitude. Supposedly not a drop of English blood ran in Gabrielle’s veins – and it was true that despite the navy blue dress, white apron, and frilled cap on her silver streaked black hair, there was something exotic about her. Victoria had once waxed lyrical about Seb’s mother being like a tropical flower that had somehow managed to adapt to cooler climes without losing any of its beauty. Yet since Alice had come to live under the same roof as Seb’s mother, there had been times when Gabrielle’s accent had slipped, causing her to wonder just how foreign she was. The tale she had heard had been that old Mrs Waters had found Gabrielle singing outside a theatre in America. She had been dressed in rags and half-starved, so Victoria’s grandmother had taken pity on her and brought her back to England.