A Mother's Choice

by Val Wood

  Louisa climbed over the side of the wagon and dropped down to push open a wide farm gate, which she held until they had driven through and then closed after them, dropping a metal bar over the top of the post. An old horse still harnessed to a trap stood in the yard.

  The woman with the reddish hair came out of the door of a long and well-built farmhouse. ‘Your ma’s gone to have a lie down,’ she said to the girls as they all climbed out of the wagon, ‘so don’t mek a noise when you go upstairs.’

  The boy waited for Molly, who was last, and helped her to jump down. Then he turned and saw the woman gazing at him, and he glanced at Louisa.

  ‘So who’s this then? Are you our Janet’s grandson? Richard’s lad?’

  He pressed his lips together and shook his head; heading towards the door Louisa’s father turned when he heard the question, hesitated, and then took a step back.

  Louisa came and stood next to him. ‘He’s come to stay wi’ us for a bit, Gran,’ she said, taking hold of his hand. ‘I said you wouldn’t mind. He’s a very useful boy.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was beginning to drizzle with rain and Peggy told them to go inside. They went through a small room where there were cupboards and a small grate with a metal pot set above it, and a deep sink with a water pump at the side. Jack had never seen such things before. Louisa took off her boots and placed them next to others in a box, so he did the same and stood waiting in his socks for further instruction.

  ‘Well, are you coming in or staying out there all night?’ The question was brisk but not unkind, and the curly-haired woman gestured to an open door into another room where a bright fire burned in an enormous range. Louisa took his hand again and led him in; there was a large table in the middle of the room, with benches on both sides and high-backed wooden chairs at each end. The grey-bearded man who had been sitting next to the woman in the Sun Inn was reclining comfortably in an old chair by the range, his stockinged feet stretched towards the warmth.

  He glanced up as they entered and said, ‘Shut ’door behind you, Jack. You’re letting all ’heat out.’

  The boy was about to obey when he realized that the command wasn’t meant for him but for Louisa’s father, who muttered something and closed the door behind him.

  ‘So, young feller-me-lad,’ the woman said, looking down on him and smiling, ‘I thought you were one of my nieces’ bairns, but mebbe you’re not?’

  The boy shook his head, and said throatily, ‘I’m afraid I’m not.’

  She raised her eyebrows humorously. ‘A school friend of Louisa’s?’

  Again he shook his head and blinked at her.

  ‘And do you have a name, so that we can seek out your ma and tell her where you are? She’ll be worried sick about you, I don’t doubt.’

  He considered for a moment. ‘I don’t think she will be worried,’ he said. ‘She knows I’m able to look after myself. I don’t need any supervision.’

  Louisa’s father, who had taken up a chair by the fire opposite his father, gave a caustic grunt. ‘Never met a lad who didn’t,’ he muttered.

  The woman leaned against the table and indicated with her forefinger that the boy and Louisa should come closer.

  ‘You’re not from these parts, that’s for sure, and ’word is that you’re a useful boy. So how is it that you’re on your own with no ma or da to look out for you? Bearing in mind,’ she added, ‘that you don’t need any supervision?’ Without waiting for an answer, she went on, ‘Are we allowed to ask this useful boy’s name? And if we do, will he give it honestly?’

  This was the moment he had been expecting, and he was prepared. He didn’t want to tell a lie but neither did he want to give his real name, especially not now that he had met someone else called Jack. Arthur Crawshaw had said to his mother many times in his presence that the boy deserved a more redeeming name than the one she had given him, but his mother had never replied. He wasn’t sure what redeeming meant, but this woman deserved an answer, for she had been very pleasant towards him so far.

  ‘Robin Jackson,’ he said. ‘That’s my name, and my last abode was in London.’

  He saw her try to hide a smile as she asked, ‘Well, Robin Jackson. Will your father and mother be at their London abode now, or in this district?’

  ‘My father might be dead,’ he said. ‘I’ve never known him. I don’t know where my mother is.’ And that was the truth, he thought, for his mother could by now be on a train back to London, and he had chosen to say London for there was not a single chance of anyone trying to find anybody in that great city, unlike Brighton where they might.

  ‘Send him off wi’ a flea in his ear, why don’t you,’ Jack mumbled from his place by the fire. ‘He’s nowt to do wi’ us. Why ’you mekkin’ such a to-do about him?’

  ‘I wouldn’t send a dog out at this time o’ night, let alone a child,’ his mother said sharply. ‘He can stop tonight and we’ll mek enquiries at ’Sun in ’morning.’

  Robin heaved a deep breath and chanced a smile at Louisa, who grinned from ear to ear.

  ‘Oh, goody,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Gran. Where will he sleep? He could sleep on ’floor in our room, cos there isn’t any room in our bed.’

  ‘No, we’ll mek up a bed on ’little sofa in here; he’s too big to sleep in a room full o’ girls.’

  ‘I’ll sleep down here wiv him.’

  They all turned at Molly’s voice; she had crept downstairs unseen and unheard and was now standing by the door that led to the hall. She came towards Robin and slipped her hand into his. ‘I like him,’ she announced.

  ‘Do you, my lovely?’ Peggy drew the child towards her and sitting down she lifted her on to her knee. ‘But you see, big boys have to have their own bed and can’t share wi’ girls.’

  Molly looked across to her father. ‘But Da’s big and he sleeps wi’ Ma ’cept sometimes she don’t want him to.’

  ‘That’s because they’re married, you see, just like me and your grandda,’ Peggy explained. ‘And we share a bed.’

  ‘Then I’ll marry this boy,’ Molly said passively.

  Robin turned to her. ‘We’re not old enough to be married yet,’ he told her. ‘Shall we wait for a bit? We’ve to finish school first.’

  Molly’s lips trembled. ‘I’m not allowed to go to school.’ She buried her head in her grandmother’s ample bosom. ‘And I want to.’

  ‘But I need you here; you’re such a comfort to me,’ her grandmother said softly. ‘And I’d miss you if you weren’t here.’

  ‘And I would too,’ her grandfather’s voice boomed from his chair by the fire. ‘Who’d help us to feed ’hens if you were at school all day, eh?’

  Molly slipped off her grandmother’s knee and on to her grandfather’s, where she snuggled up close to him. ‘All right then,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll stop at home wi’ you owd folk.’

  Robin, watching closely, wondered why the little girl couldn’t go to school, and why it was that the grandparents were so loving towards her, whilst her father gazed moodily into the flames and said not a word to her.

  He was shown where the privy was at the bottom of the garden and was most intrigued by it; like a little shed, he thought, with a wooden seat with a hole in it. When he came back in, all the girls were waiting to pump water to wash their hands in the deep sink in the room off the kitchen that Louisa called a scullery, and when they had finished he did the same before they all gathered at the supper table.

  Robin thought he had never in his life eaten so much food in one day. After having a good breakfast at the Hedon Arms and an enormous midday dinner at the Sun Inn, he was now sitting down to eat a supper of pork pie, cold pressed meat with pickles, and hard-boiled eggs with bread and butter, and in the centre of the table was a huge fruit cake and cheese to go with it. This in itself was a novelty, as he had never had the two together before. Then there was a large brown teapot, big enough to serve an army, which was refilled several times to quench everyone’s thirst.

>   The younger woman, the girls’ mother, Robin guessed, although no one had said, had come downstairs for supper and sat down at the table without a word to anyone. Her fair hair was tousled as if she had been asleep in bed and she yawned a lot. After she had drunk her first cup of tea and eaten a slice of pork pie, a portion of meat and a whole egg, she suddenly noticed Robin.

  ‘Who’s this?’ She looked at Peggy.

  ‘This is Robin Jackson,’ Peggy said. ‘He’s staying wi’ us for tonight and tomorrow we’ll try to find his mother.’

  ‘So why’s he staying wi’ us? Do we know him?’

  ‘Aye, I just said,’ Peggy said evenly. ‘He’s Robin Jackson.’

  ‘Well, where’s he from?’

  ‘From down London way.’ Peggy poured herself more tea, then picked up the cake stand and offered it round the table before taking a slice for herself.

  ‘London! So what’s he doing here, eating our victuals?’

  Peggy fixed her with a stare. ‘I invited him, that’s what. This happens to be my house, Susan, and I don’t have to ask anyone’s permission to invite somebody to eat at my table.’

  Robin saw the curl on the younger woman’s lips and felt the animosity as she looked his way. Then she gave a shrug and took a second slice of cake and a portion of cheese. ‘I’ll suffer for this later,’ she mumbled.

  ‘I’m going to marry him when I’m old enough,’ Molly piped up for her mother’s benefit.

  ‘Can we have that in writing?’ her mother laughed. ‘It might be ’onny chance you get, girl.’

  ‘But I might want to marry him as well,’ Louisa said in a small voice. ‘I saw him first, and said hello.’

  Robin’s ears were burning with embarrassment and his face flamed when Louisa’s mother said, ‘I might have known you’d have a hand in it. Interfering little busybody.’ She lifted a finger and shook it at Louisa, who had opened her mouth to speak. ‘Just watch it, or you’ll have ’hairbrush to your backside.’

  ‘It wasn’t her idea,’ Robin broke in in Louisa’s defence. ‘It was mine. I climbed into the wagon with everybody because we were having such fun.’

  ‘Who asked you?’ Susan glared at him. ‘Just mind your own business, whoever you are.’

  Peggy got up from the table. ‘Come on, bairns. If you’re finished you can leave ’table and go and play for half an hour or read your spelling books ready for school tomorrow. Molly, m’love, you can help me clear ’table and if you’re ever so good you can help me wash up.’

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ Susan interrupted. ‘Is there any more tea?’

  ‘Kettle’s still simmering,’ Peggy advised her. ‘And I’ve never known pregnancy stop any woman from mekkin’ a pot o’ tea, so help yourself if ’pot’s empty.’

  The girls got down from the table and chorused their thanks to their granny, all but Emma who moved up to sit by her mother’s side. Louisa indicated to Robin to follow her towards the hall door and young Rosie danced ahead of them.

  ‘Thank you very much, Mrs – erm, what should I call you?’ Robin asked his hostess.

  ‘I’m Mrs Robinson.’ She looked at him and then said, ‘But as there are two Mrs Robinsons now, you can call me Granny Robinson if you like.’

  He took a deep breath and gave a big grin. So Louisa’s father had the same name as his. What a good thing he’d changed his own to Jackson.

  ‘I’d like that very much,’ he said at last, and felt a warm feeling inside that had nothing to do with the amount of food he’d consumed. ‘Thank you for the lovely supper, Granny Robinson. It’s the best I’ve ever eaten.’

  She smiled back at him. ‘You’re very welcome I’m sure, Master Robin. Very welcome indeed.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  When Robin woke the next morning the first sound he heard was someone riddling the coals in the range and then tipping the coal hod to add more. He put his nose above the blanket and saw it was Jack Robinson busy with the tasks, so he put his head down again and feigned sleep.

  Above the rattle of the coals and the gushing of water being pumped into the kettle in the scullery, he could also hear the birds twittering again and marvelled at the way they were so chirpy in a morning in spite of its still being dark. From where he was lying, quite close to the window – but not so close that there would be a draught, for Granny Robinson had been most particular about that – he could see from below the curtain that there was no light at all, but only greyness.

  He had slept very well, soothed by the sound of voices by the fireside, Susan’s rather shrill one and the rumble of Jack’s replies, but Susan was the first of the adults to go to bed and then he heard only the warmer tones of Granny Robinson and an occasional gruffness from Aaron and then Jack saying, ‘Well, I haven’t ’time to go traipsing over to Hedon. Mebbe somebody saw him come wi’ us and will tell his ma where he is. It’ll be up to her to look for him, not us to look for her.’

  But then he had fallen asleep and hadn’t wakened until he’d heard Jack at the range, and now he was drifting off again, lulled into a half sleeping, half waking torpor until he heard someone mention his name.

  ‘Little lad has no worries, that’s clear to see. He’s settled in very comfortably.’ It was Aaron speaking. ‘But he can’t stop wi’out us asking about him. We have to know where he’s come from. You’ll have to tek ’trap and drive over to Hedon, Mother, and ask around.’

  ‘Aye, I suppose so,’ he heard Granny Robinson answer. ‘We’ll go as soon as I’ve got ’other bairns off to school.’

  ‘Their ma should be doing that.’ There was a hint of sharp irritation in Aaron’s voice. ‘She teks advantage of you.’

  ‘I know she does. I also know that ’bairns would go off to school with no breakfast if it were left to her. When she’s had this one I’m going to tell our Jack he can start looking for another place to live.’

  ‘Aye, well, but we’ll happen keep Molly here,’ Aaron said.

  ‘Course,’ she answered. ‘That goes without saying. I wouldn’t trust Susan to look after her; and ’others can come here for their breakfast and tea if they want to.’

  Robin stretched and pushed himself up and looked about him, blinking. ‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘Is it late? Have I slept in?’

  ‘Good morning! No, it isn’t late,’ Peggy answered whilst Aaron looked at him quizzically, before coming towards him and sitting on the edge of the little sofa.

  ‘I was just saying that you don’t seem to have any worries,’ he said. ‘Are you not anxious about your ma?’

  Robin folded his arms and considered. ‘No, not really. She’s used to doing things for herself and going about here and there, you know.’

  ‘She can look after herself is what you’re saying, is it?’

  ‘Oh, yes, she can. She’s very capable.’

  ‘But what I really meant,’ Aaron went on kindly, ‘is, won’t she be worried about you? You know, she might have slipped out of ’Sun Inn to buy summat, perhaps, or mebbe she’d spotted a friend and went off to have a natter, you know how women do, and then when she came back, you’d gone.’

  Robin wanted to answer truthfully, for Aaron did seem quite concerned, but Aaron didn’t know his mother at all, whereas he did, and his mother had come with the plate of beef and bread to find him and looked at the people in the room and it seemed to him that she had suddenly not wanted to be seen and that was why she’d said she was going to the privy. She wanted to hide, he thought, but he didn’t know who from … from whom, Arthur Crawshaw would have said in the deep booming voice that he kept for recitals.

  But he was almost certain she had come back, because when he and the other children went outside to play in the yard he’d noticed that the bread and beef had gone, and he was sure that his mother had taken it. She wouldn’t have wasted the food, not after paying good money for it. Money was too hard to come by; he could almost hear her voice and the often quoted remark. He knew he was right, but of course he couldn’t mention that now.
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  ‘Well, yes,’ he admitted, for there was nothing else he could say and after all, he didn’t know where she had gone. ‘That might have happened, but she’s sure to turn up,’ he went on, adding, ‘sooner or later.’

  Aaron nodded but didn’t seem convinced and just sat there musing. Then, sighing, he got up, turned to his wife and murmured, ‘Well, it’s beyond me. She’s either abandoned him or lost her way. When you get to Hedon you’d best speak to ’local bobby – or else pop into ’Sun and ask if anybody’s been enquiring about a lost boy.’

  ‘Oh, but I’m not lost.’ Robin threw back the blanket and got out of bed, clad in his long underpants and vest. ‘I know where I am. I’m in Paull and it’s spelt with double ell.’ He grinned, wondering if Aaron would get the joke, but he didn’t appear to.

  ‘Could I have a wash please?’ he asked. Granny Robinson seemed surprised but directed him towards the scullery, where he pumped out water and thought what a novelty it was and much more fun than having taps. He swilled his face and scrubbed his hands with a big yellow slab of soap and taking off his vest he washed under his arms in the way his mother had taught him, then went back into the kitchen and climbed into his trousers, shirt and woollen jumper.

  ‘There,’ he said. ‘I’m more presentable now.’

  Peggy, who was stirring something in a pan, laughed, her plump face creasing and her eyes shining. ‘So you are,’ she chuckled, ‘and if you reach on to ’mantel shelf you’ll find a clean hairbrush.’

  Robin picked up the hairbrush and examined it. The bristles were firm and scratchy and were set into a shiny back with a hard shell-like finish. ‘Is this the hairbrush Louisa’s mother was going to use on her backside?’ he asked in all innocence, and was astonished at the look of fury on Granny Robinson’s face and the sharp breath that Aaron took.

  ‘No!’ Peggy said sharply. ‘It is not and no other child either. Not ever in my house.’