A Mother's Choice

by Val Wood

  ‘Ooh, lovely,’ he said. ‘Thank you. It does seem to have been a long day, doesn’t it? And do you know what, Granny Robinson? It feels as if I’ve been living here for ages.’

  ‘So it does,’ she murmured. ‘But tomorrow, Robin, I think we must go back to Hedon to find out if there’s any news about your mother.’

  Aaron and Jack were still out and Peggy guessed that their son would have followed his father down to the village hostelry to drown his sorrows. She felt tired herself and after checking that Susan was all right and making her a cup of cocoa and a cheese sandwich, which she said was all she wanted, Peggy banked up the fire and put up the fireguard, smiling when she saw Robin fast asleep on the sofa. He was a silent sleeper, just as Jack had been when he was little, and she remembered how when she was a young mother she used to put her hand on his chest to make sure he was breathing. Jenny had tied her sheets in knots as she tossed and turned in her bed, filled with dreams and imaginings and always with a bright idea as soon as she awakened.

  She peeked in at the girls before going to her own bed but didn’t fall asleep immediately; a wind was getting up and she heard the patter of sleet on the bedroom window. Winter’s here with a vengeance, she thought; better get prepared. Mentally she ran through her head all the items they had in the larder, and what extra would be needed. Tea, sugar, flour, soap and soap flakes. We’ve enough vegetables; there’s a sack of potatoes in the barn and plenty of onions. She was just nodding off when she heard the clop of hooves and the clatter of wheels and knew the men were home.

  Aaron’s feet were cold when he climbed in beside her and she grumbled at him and said he should have kept his socks on. ‘Did our Jack tell you about the bairn?’ she asked.

  ‘Aye. It’s a bad job, isn’t it? He’s right upset.’

  ‘Is he?’ She heaved a sigh. I suppose all men want a son. We were lucky to have one of each, but unlucky that there were no more. ‘Did you see your Harry?’

  ‘Aye, I did.’ His voice brightened considerably. ‘He asked if I wanted to go fishing on Sat’day and I said yes. A few of ’other shrimper lads were there at ’Humber Tavern. Two of ’Wilkin brothers, Fred Starkey, Frank Parrott, we’d a right old natter. It was good to see them.’ His voice had a wistful quality and Peggy knew he missed his old cronies.

  ‘You should go fishing more often,’ she murmured.

  ‘Mebbe I should.’ He turned on to his side and put his arm round her, drawing her towards him and kissing her cheek. ‘But I made a choice, didn’t I? My place is on ’land now, not out on ’estuary or at sea. I’ve no regrets.’

  She turned and returned the kiss on his stubbly cheek, which once had the tang of the sea and now smelled of the earth and the sweet scent of tobacco, and knew that in his heart he must once have had a few misgivings. ‘Goodnight, m’darling,’ she said sleepily, and was glad that he was safe by her side and not battling the deep waters of the Humber.

  The next morning Peggy was up earlier than usual. She baked a batch of bread, then prepared some beef and vegetables for a stew and put it in a cauldron to cook over the fire. She began to fry ham rashers, knowing that the aroma would rouse everyone, before setting the table for breakfast. As soon as the children were off to school, she decided, she’d check on Susan and give her her breakfast, and then she and Robin would drive to Hedon and ask again at the police station about his mother.

  I must be sensible, she told herself. She must be found. Then a thought struck her. I hope in heaven’s name she hasn’t done away with herself. Who knows what desperate straits she must be in to leave her son with strangers? Unless, of course … Odd notions began to run around in her head. Perhaps we’re not strangers. Mebbe she knows us somehow. Has she met us at some time? I must ask my sisters, see if they can shed any light on the matter.

  Jackson? Is it her married name or is she a single woman? Would a single woman leave behind a boy of ten? She would if she had a very pressing problem, but why here, if, as he says, they’d lived in London? Surely she’d have folks there who would have him. It doesn’t mek sense. No sense at all.

  It was extremely cold and she wrapped the girls up well with warm stockings, bonnets and scarves. She told them to go upstairs one by one to see their mother before going off to school, and this they did, and then Molly went up too, to tell her mother she was going out to Hedon with Granny.

  ‘I didn’t tell Ma that you were going as well,’ she told Robin when she came down again, ‘because I didn’t fink she was very happy.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ Robin said. ‘Perhaps she’s not feeling very well.’

  Aaron popped his head round the door. ‘I’ll tek ’bairns to school,’ he told Peggy. ‘It’s starting to snow; they’ll be soaked afore they get there if they walk. I’ll harness up owd Betsy, so tell them to wait. And I forgot to tell you last night that Barney Foggit has died. Funeral’s at ’end of next week. His wife’s going to live in Preston wi’ one of her daughters so there’ll be a smallholding going beggin’.’

  Glory be! Peggy praised beneath her breath, though she was sad to hear of the old man’s death. It’ll be just the place for our Jack. It’s a good house, and that land reaches ours so he can still easily work with his da. Her mind began planning: they’ll be able to keep their own hens and grow vegetables and Susan can learn how to be a farmer’s wife in her own home instead of feeling like a spare part in mine. Ten years – she must be as fed up wi’ me as I am wi’ her. We might even get to like each other once they’ve moved, though I wouldn’t tek any bets on it.

  Too early to begin enquiries, she thought as she prepared a breakfast tray for her daughter-in-law; we’ll let old Barney be put to rest afore we put ’question, but there’s nowt to stop us planting ’idea in Jack’s and Susan’s heads.

  The children kissed her goodbye and she knew she’d miss them if they weren’t living with her, but they’d pass by on their way to school and being only next door they could come and stay whenever they wanted. But there was Molly to think of; what to do about her? Would they accept her at school, and would Susan do right by her? Was she capable of understanding this special little girl?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Peggy took Susan’s breakfast up and placed it on the bedside table. ‘I’ve cooked a rasher and made you a cheese omelette. I thought you’d digest it better than fried eggs.’ She’d also brought her a pot of tea and a slice of toast.

  ‘Thank you.’ Susan pulled herself up, wincing as she did so.

  ‘I’m going to slip down to ’village and then go on to Hedon. Will you be all right?’ She thought that Susan looked very pale and mentally added to her list some calves’ liver from the Hedon butcher. ‘I’ll tek Molly wi’ me.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll have another sleep after I’ve had breakfast,’ Susan said. ‘Thanks, Peggy. I’m – sorry I was so stroppy yesterday. Midwife was a bit rough; didn’t seem to care.’

  ‘She was concerned, I think.’ Peggy offered up the excuse.

  ‘I didn’t do anything to hurt babby,’ Susan assured her. ‘I admit I took something to bring it on quicker; somebody I know had used this tincture of something and it had worked for her and she had an easy time and a healthy baby.’

  ‘Ah!’ Peggy was relieved to hear it, though not wholly approving. ‘Mebbe he wasn’t meant to be,’ she murmured. ‘Not all of them are. I had a miscarriage after Jenny. That was a great loss to me. But you must rest up now and think that mebbe it was for ’best. And you’ve got four beautiful girls,’ she added, ‘so count yourself lucky.’

  Susan gave a droll laugh. ‘Three,’ she said, ‘and Molly. She’ll never come up to much, that’s what ’doctor said, and he should know.’

  ‘He was wrong,’ Peggy said defiantly. ‘She’s a lovely, bright little girl and we must do our best for her.’

  Susan nodded but didn’t seem convinced, and pulled the tray towards her. ‘Could you get me something from ’Hedon pharmacist while you’re out?’ she asked. ‘I’ve g
ot a pounding headache.’

  ‘Yes.’ Peggy turned to leave. ‘I’m going down to ’village to ask about ’day of Barney Foggit’s funeral. Did Jack tell you he’d died? He was a good age, as is his widow. She’s going to live with one of her daughters, so I heard.’

  ‘Is she?’ Susan began her breakfast, so Peggy left, saying, ‘I’ll tell Jack to look in on you, but I’ll be back by dinner time in any case.’

  Well, I’ve dropped a hint, she thought as she gathered up Molly and Robin, her shopping basket and an extra shawl to put over her coat; whether it will drop on stony ground or flourish will remain to be seen. She called to Aaron as she drove off, to tell Jack to look in on Susan, and ignored his shout asking where she was going.

  ‘We’re going a different way,’ Robin said as they took a left turn out of the gate. ‘I thought Hedon was that way?’ He pointed back over his shoulder.

  ‘It is,’ Peggy told him, ‘but I need to go to Paull first.’

  ‘Oh, so will we see the estuary?’ he asked eagerly. ‘I haven’t seen it yet, at least only from a distance. I’d like to compare it to the Thames.’

  ‘What’s the Thames?’ Molly said.

  ‘It’s a river like the Humber,’ he replied. ‘Except, well, they’re not just rivers – well, they are rivers, but when the Thames is in London it’s a river, then it flows on all the way to Kent and becomes an estuary; I think that’s right,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘It’s because a lot of other rivers and streams and tributaries run into it, and then the estuary runs into the sea.’

  ‘Our estuary runs into ’sea as well,’ Molly said. ‘I’ve seen it when we went to Spurn Point.’

  ‘Have you?’ Robin exclaimed. ‘You lucky thing! I’d love to see that.’

  ‘We can only go when ’tide is right,’ she explained, ‘cos sometimes when ’spring tide is very high, or in winter, Spurn is washed ower wi’ seawater and we can’t walk on it.’

  ‘Why is it called Spurn Point?’ he asked her.

  She chuckled. ‘Cos it’s got a point at ’end of ’road; it’s like a bent finger, and Grandda said its shape changes cos of ’sand and clay allus shifting.’

  Peggy was listening to their chatter and was astonished at how much Molly had remembered from their visit to Spurn, which must have been at least two years ago. She can learn, she thought. She shouldn’t be consigned to the scrap heap. She just needs someone patient enough to teach her.

  ‘Oh, look! The estuary is right there.’ Robin stood up in the back of the cart as they clip-clopped into the village. ‘I didn’t think we’d be able to get so close.’

  The muddy brown choppy waters were right in front of them. Here was the road, there a fence, and below it the estuary. To their left was a lighthouse and Molly pointed out some houses and said they were coastguard’s cottages. To their right was a long street of houses and an inn on the corner, all with their backs to the water.

  ‘I just need to pop into ’post office,’ Peggy said. ‘If I tie Betsy up here so you can see the estuary, can you both be trusted not to wander off, and definitely not go on to ’slipway?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Robin said. ‘But can we walk by the fence and watch the ships and fishing boats?’

  ‘I’ll look after him, Gran,’ Molly proclaimed. ‘Cos I know how careful you have to be when you’re near water. Even when you can swim. I can swim, Robin. Can you?’

  ‘I’ve swum in the sea at Brighton and Eastbourne,’ he said, ‘but only in the shallows.’ He was about to say more when he realized he would be giving away some vital information. ‘When we were on holiday,’ he finished.

  Peggy told them they could walk by the fence, and then set off towards the main street, calling back that she wouldn’t be long.

  ‘Grandda used to be a fisherman.’ Molly stood on the bottom rail of the fence and stretched up on her toes to look over into the deep water. ‘He said when I’m bigger he’ll tek me out in his boat.’

  ‘Has he got a boat?’ Robin asked in surprise. ‘Where does he keep it?’

  ‘It’s tied up in Paull creek wi’ some of ’other boats. You can’t see it from here. Sometimes he lends it out.’

  They walked alongside the fence until they came close to the slipway and the Humber Tavern, and Robin thought that had he been alone he might have walked down the slipway and nearer to the water where dark viscous seaweed gathered in tangled brackish clumps; but he had promised, so he wouldn’t. But how exciting it was to know that the estuary was so close; he loved it, the smell of it, and the smack and slurp of the choppy waves dashing and splashing against the retaining wall, throwing up a salty spray that wasn’t brown as he would have expected but a sparkling crystal shower.

  It wasn’t long before Peggy was on her way back. She had gleaned what she wanted to know from the post office, the time and day of the funeral, and having expressed her sorrow at the old man’s death and agreed that he had had a long lifespan, had casually asked what was happening to the homestead.

  ‘Our Jack and his wife are looking to move. They need a place of their own with four growing bairns; they want somewhere near to ours, of course, as Jack works with his da.’ Dropping her voice, she imparted the news that they’d just lost a baby.

  Peggy Robinson had a respected standing in the village. Her father, Bill Foster, had been a canny man who had bought up odd pieces of land that large landowners didn’t want and small landholders couldn’t afford; eventually these parcels of land joined up and some he farmed himself, or his sons did, and others he let out to tenants.

  The farm that Aaron and Peggy ran had once been one of these parcels of land. When eighteen-year-old Peggy fell in love with a Paull fisherman, Aaron Robinson, she knew that the only way she would be allowed to marry him was if he showed that he was deserving of her by agreeing to work the land. Peggy, sharp and decisive, had told him that it was the best piece of land her father possessed, and that he would still be able to go shrimping, since she would help him on the farm until their sons were old enough to help as well.

  Aaron was an amenable young man and the idea of running his own farm had appealed to him; he had become a fisherman because his father and grandfather had been Paull Shrimpers too, and only sometimes after their marriage had he longed for the camaraderie of his fellow shrimpers and the smell of the sea as it flowed into the estuary bringing in its briny harvest. But he loved Peggy more than he loved the sea and it hadn’t been a difficult choice to make.

  ‘Right then,’ she said, as the children climbed back into the cart. ‘What do you think of Paull, Robin?’ She clicked her tongue to urge old Betsy on.

  ‘I like it a lot!’ Robin said enthusiastically, adding, ‘I wish I lived here.’

  ‘Well, you are living here, aren’t you?’ Peggy said over her shoulder.

  ‘Yes, but we’re going to Hedon again.’ His voice dropped. ‘So I suppose you’re going to try and give me away to a policeman.’

  Peggy half turned her head. ‘I’m doing no such thing! Didn’t I tell you that I’ve spoken to ’schoolmistress?’

  ‘Yes, but …’ He spoke in a teary voice. ‘I’m used to being moved on. I don’t think I’ll ever be in one place for very long.’

  Peggy drew the horse to a standstill; they had driven down the main street past the post office and the small school that served the children of Paull, and were about to turn along another road. They could hear the creak of masts and the rattle of rigging.

  ‘If I don’t enquire whether they’ve heard of ’whereabouts of your mother,’ she told him, ‘and she comes looking for you and then thinks I’ve kidnapped you, what kind of hot water will I find myself in? Eh? What if I find myself in trouble with ’law?’

  Molly began to whine. ‘Will you go to prison if you’re in trouble, Gran? I won’t like it if you do.’

  ‘No. No, she won’t,’ Robin broke in. ‘I’ll tell them. I’ll say that I wanted to stay.’

  ‘And what will your ma say then? Won’t she be upse
t if she thinks you prefer living wi’ strangers rather than her?’

  ‘I don’t prefer it, but I don’t feel as if I’m with strangers,’ he said, putting his arm round Molly’s shoulder and patting it. ‘I wish she could be here too, but she’s not, and,’ he hesitated, ‘I think she’d understand.’

  Peggy explained the situation to the duty officer at the police station, and he said that posters would be distributed to outlying villages as well as round Hedon. Peggy hoped that the school-mistress wouldn’t see them, or she’d be caught out in a lie.

  ‘They’d be better placed in Hull,’ she told him.

  ‘No, Mrs Robinson,’ he said patiently. ‘It’s too soon for that. We have your details; we know where to come if she turns up. If she hasn’t come back after a few months then we’ll have to do something about the boy. We’ll alert ’authorities and he’ll be sent on somewhere, mebbe to a children’s home or an orphanage.’

  ‘I won’t go,’ Robin said firmly when they came out into the street again. ‘I’ll run away if I think they’re coming for me.’

  Peggy blew out a breath. ‘It won’t come to that,’ she said. ‘We won’t let that happen, will we, Molly?’

  Molly sniffled, and then shook her head. ‘No we won’t. I know a good hiding place, Robin, and we’ll go and hide together if people come looking for you.’

  Peggy smiled. ‘So that’s settled. Now we’ll pop to ’draper’s shop and see what we can get you for school; you’ll need new breeches, a couple of warm jumpers and shirts, socks – let’s have a look at your boots.’

  Robin dutifully lifted a foot. ‘Mm,’ Peggy said. ‘We can get away with a sole and heel, I think. Let’s ask ’cobbler if he can do them now, while we wait.’

  An hour later they were on their way home laden with parcels; commodities from the grocer, tender liver from the butcher for Susan, and an extract of willow bark that the pharmacist recommended for headaches rather than a laudanum tincture.