A Mother's Dilemma

by Emma Hornby

Then what? her mind asked. The answer that whispered on the outskirts of her mind had her glancing to her feet, for the truth of it she couldn’t deny. She wanted to spend time with him. Constance, too. Everything else, even her own trials, paled in comparison. The realisation left her bewildered.

  ‘Well, if you’re certain …?’

  ‘I am, sir.’

  ‘Excellent.’ A genuine smile spread across Maxwell’s face. ‘Constance will be pleased. She’ll enjoy the excursion infinitely more with you in attendance, I’m sure. You have a knack of keeping her entertained.’

  She knew a sensation akin to her guts falling from a height and struggled to keep the disappointment from her face. That was why he’d asked her along: for his daughter’s sake. He wanted her there as a nursemaid, to keep an eye to the child. And why should it be anything more? she insisted to herself. Stupid, stupid.

  ‘Right, I shall leave you in peace.’ He motioned to the tea things in his hands. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No thanks needed, sir.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  She watched him until he disappeared from sight then crossed to the bed. She perched on the edge. Her mind really wasn’t her own of late; being with child was warping her common sense, she was certain. The thoughts she found creeping in sometimes shocked and filled her with shame in equal measure. For since her dream, of she and Mr Birch together, their kiss … Cringing, Jewel heaved another long breath. Was she developing madness on top of everything else? It really wouldn’t surprise her, the way her luck was going at present!

  Cancelling her plans with Maria was proof that she was losing her grip on reality, surely? Just what was she thinking? What was she going to do now? Would her friend be upset with her for choosing to spend time with the Birches instead? After all, she couldn’t very well go back on her agreement with Maxwell now. Would Maria still be willing to help her?

  Busy with her thoughts, Jewel at first took the faint flutters and taps in her stomach to be but nervous tension. When another more forceful blow struck beneath her ribs, she glanced down with a mixture of horror and awe.

  Over the next few minutes, as the life growing within her made for the first time its presence known, a clogging ball of conflicting emotion built to a ton weight in her breast.

  She looked to the heavens through a blur of tears then closed her eyes in despair.

  *

  Jewel awoke the following morning with a scratchy throat and a head that felt home to a dozen drummers; wincing, she flopped back against the pillows. Illness must have dragged her back to sleep, for the next thing she was aware of was full daylight filtering through the high window – her early starts were in pitch-darkness during winter months – and she dragged herself up with a gasp. Pain speared inside her temples at the movement and nausea rose. ‘God above, I feel terrible,’ she croaked to what she thought was the empty room.

  ‘Indeed, you look it. No offence.’

  Opening one eye, she squinted up in surprise. ‘Sir.’

  ‘Forgive my intrusion, but I felt I ought to check in on you, given your absence.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I—’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Maxwell instructed her as she attempted to rise. ‘You must rest.’

  ‘But sir, the fires haven’t been lit.’ No doubt it was this which had caused him to seek her out. ‘Your breakfast. The house, my duties …’

  ‘Your only task today is to remain in your bed. That is an order.’ Though he spoke firmly, a hint of concern showed in his eyes.

  He was likely worried she’d pass whatever ailed her on to his family, Jewel thought, and who could blame him? Young Constance especially was of an age where severe colds could easily develop into something more serious. Nonetheless: ‘But … the park, sir,’ she couldn’t stop herself from saying, unable to hide her disappointment. ‘You said yourself, Miss Constance will want me there …’

  ‘As do I. Alas, these things cannot be helped. Now, try to get some sleep. It’s the body’s natural healer and will do you the world of good. I’ll check in on you again upon our return.’

  ‘Ta, thanks.’ Already, her lead-heavy eyelids were drooping. ‘Sorry, sir.’

  ‘Shh. Sleep.’

  Maxwell’s whisper floated on the edges of her consciousness. Then what felt like a hand gently brushing damp hair from her brow seeped through to her and she knew she was sicker than she’d realised. Delirium had her in its grasp, was causing her to imagine things. Groaning, she turned over and fell into a heavy sleep.

  She awoke some time later to light tapping coming from above her. Her wooziness was worse than before and the hammering inside her head had spread; it was like a physical thing gnawing on her skull. Assuming she was hallucinating again, she closed her mind to the noise.

  ‘Psst. Lass, it’s me. Is tha all right?’

  Frowning, Jewel peered up at the window. Beyond it, kneeling on the flagstones in the street, was Maria. Hands cupped around her eyes, she was staring through the pane. Jewel gave her a weak wave then held a hand to her forehead and imitated a cough to show she was unwell. Her frown grew when, catching her meaning, her friend stood and walked away without another word. But Jewel felt too rotten to dwell on it; she closed her eyes once more.

  ‘’Ere, lass. Sup up.’

  Again, the world came into focus. To Jewel’s astonishment, she saw her friend perched on the bottom of her bed. She glanced around the room – yes, this was definitely her kitchen. She hadn’t wandered off in her confused state; nor did the smiling woman seem to be an apparition. Then how on earth …? ‘Maria? Is it really thee?’

  ‘Aye. I let myself in. Don’t fret,’ she added when Jewel’s eyes widened in horror. ‘No one will know – I’ll be away afore Mr Birch returns. Lift your head, that’s it. Mind now, it’s hot.’ She supported Jewel as she took sips of the sweetened brew. ‘Better?’

  ‘Nay. I feel bloody awful.’

  Maria resumed her seat on the bed. ‘I spotted your Mr Birch exit with the little ’un earlier. Looked back at the house several times whilst walking away, he did, as though reluctant to leave. I figured summat were afoot.’

  ‘He did?’ At Maria’s nod, something came back to Jewel that she’d been too poorly earlier to register properly. ‘As do I.’ That’s what Maxwell had said when she’d mentioned that Constance would miss her presence at the park. As do I. She allowed herself a small smile.

  ‘And well,’ continued Maria, ‘when you didn’t show at the park …’ She spread her arms wide. ‘I thought it best to check in on thee, guessed you’d been taken ill.’

  ‘Ta, thanks. For the tea, too. Eeh, but Maria, fancy you letting yourself in here.’ Despite herself, she couldn’t help chuckling when her friend grinned. ‘You’re a mad bugger, you are.’

  ‘I told thee, don’t fret. I’ll say I spied you through yon window and that you looked reet bad, that I were afraid you were close to death or some such. No one could punish me for that, now could they?’ When their laughter died down, Maria added, quieter now, ‘How are … things?’ She inclined her head to Jewel’s stomach. ‘All right?’

  Jewel nodded. ‘I felt it kick for the first time last night.’

  ‘Eeh, lass. Jewel, listen, is there really no way …?’

  ‘Nay. I can’t keep it, I can’t.’

  ‘Happen you were to speak with your mam, tell her what that cow-son cousin of yourn did. Surely she’d understand—’

  ‘I can’t do it, Maria. Don’t you see? It would stir up a world of trouble. Benji will deny everything and I’d have no means of proving it, now would I? It would tear my family to tatters, and for what? The truth won’t change nowt, will it? I’d still be left holding the baby – a bastard at that – alone for ever more. For let’s face it, no one would want me, would they? What fella wants to shackle himself to a lass what’s been deflowered by another? Who would want to wed a whore?’

  ‘Ay now, don’t speak of yourself so—’ />
  ‘Why not? It’s true!’ By now, tears were coursing down Jewel’s face. ‘I lay with the lad, Maria. Willingly.’

  Silence hung between them. What else was there to say? She spoke sense and they both knew it.

  ‘Besides, who says I want to keep it?’ Jewel murmured after some moments.

  ‘Do you?’

  She answered with a sigh. The thumping in her head increased and she closed her eyes. Now, however, Jewel accepted the pain almost with gladness. For wasn’t this a sign? Was it not strange that she’d been struck down with a head cold today of all days, had been forced to cancel Maxwell’s invitation? She was meant to see Maria instead, it was obvious now. Fate had intervened, and had done so for a reason. She must give up the child. ‘Will you help me still?’ she asked with feeling.

  ‘Happen you’re a bit too far along now for gin and hot baths, or to seek out someone handy with a knitting needle.’

  Jewel shuddered at the thought of that particular practice. Complications resulting in death at the hands of untold numbers of backstreet butchers were all too common. ‘Nay, not that. I couldn’t.’

  ‘Aye. Besides, it’d mean a lengthy stretch in prison were you to be found out. Tha can’t risk that.’

  ‘Then what, Maria?’

  ‘Well, there’s allus adoption. There’s wenches aplenty take in unwanteds and find them new guardians; desperate couples what can’t produce their own, like. Make a handsome living from it, an’ all, I’ll bet.’

  The article she’d spotted in her uncle’s newspaper months before came back to her. She nodded slowly. Hadn’t she given this avenue consideration back then? Again, she nodded. Then she was reminded of the reason she’d initially dismissed the idea and her shoulders slumped. ‘The prices they ask, though, for taking the child off your hands is sky high. I could never scrape together such an amount.’

  The maid stroked her chin. ‘Aye, you’re right enough there. Unless …?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You could try blackmailing your cousin into coughing up the brass, threaten to expose him to your family if he don’t. You never know, it might work.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s worth a shot, eh?’

  ‘Benji’s but a lad; he hasn’t that sort of brass neither.’

  ‘Nay, but his parents do.’

  ‘You mean …?’ Jewel bit her lip at Maria’s solemn nod. ‘I couldn’t force him into stealing it from the shop. It’d be Uncle Bernard that he’d be taking from – he doesn’t deserve to suffer for this.’

  ‘Jewel, lass. You need to turn a deaf ear to that heart of yourn and instead start listening to your head. The situation you’re in … You need to switch your thinking, aye, begin planning a way to get yourself out of this, for there’s no one else to do it for thee. Sod ’em, the lot. Put you and that babby first forra change. You’re a good lass, deserve a second chance. As for the mite inside thee … Just think, a loving family what’ll cherish it all of its days. Don’t you at least owe the poor bugger that? It’s not to blame, is it, after all? Seek out that cousin. Needs must, lass. To hell with the rest.’

  ‘Eeh, Maria.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘How have I let myself get into this mess?’

  ‘Mistakes happen, lass.’

  The straightforward answer, spoken without hesitation in that easy tone, brought tears to her eyes. Jewel doubted her friend had a single judgemental bone in her body. Maria was a true treasure and no mistake. She dreaded to imagine life without her now. Still, could she do what the maid had suggested and bribe Benji? Would it even work?

  ‘You could hunker down at a lying-in house until you’ve given birth. That way, no one you know will be aware of a thing. You hand over the child afore leaving and return home alone; norra soul will be any the wiser.’ Suddenly, Maria rose and hurried for the stairs. ‘I’ll be but a minute; wait here.’

  ‘Where are you …?’ But her friend had already disappeared into the house proper and Jewel awaited her return with a frown. ‘Eeh, Maria,’ she said when the maid reappeared and clattered back down the stairs, a newspaper under her arm. ‘That’s Mr Birch’s—’

  ‘Aye, well, he’s not in need of it at this moment, is he? I’ll return it to the drawing room exactly as I found it in a minute, don’t fret. Sooner we get looking, the better for thee.’ She resumed her seat and began flicking through the pages, eyes narrowed, tongue poking out in concentration; it was plain she wasn’t a strong reader. ‘’Ere, look. That there word says “wanted”, don’t it?’ she announced after a time.

  Jewel eyed the thick black text Maria was prodding. She nodded. ‘Let me see.’ Scanning the advertisement, her brows lifted in recognition. It appeared to be the same one she’d spotted months before; the request was identical word for word.

  ‘What’s it say, lass?’

  ‘A widow reckons she’d be glad to accept the charge of a child, any age.’

  ‘Aye? How much is she asking for to adopt?’

  ‘Eight pounds.’ This, Jewel noticed, was the only change – if she remembered rightly, the price had initially been ten.

  ‘Blooming ’eck.’ Maria puffed out air slowly. ‘That’s a lot of brass.’

  That it was, even with the reduction. Benji would never be able to get his mitts on such a sum. Would he?

  ‘Does it state whether hers is a lying-in house as well?’

  ‘Nay. But that’s what I’ll need, Maria. I can’t hide my condition much longer. And if by some miracle I managed to conceal it throughout, what about when my time comes? What will I do? Give birth to it here in the kitchen alone?’ The notion terrified her. ‘Besides, the household would hear my labour cries for certain.’

  Maria nodded agreement. ‘One what will only take the child when it’s born is no good. Tha must have a lying-in house. If this widow don’t offer such a service, happen a bit extra would change her mind? Another pound, say.’

  ‘Aye, more likely than not.’ But Jewel’s glimmer of hope was dashed as a sudden thought occurred. She closed her eyes. ‘What am I thinking? It’s impossible, Maria, impossible!’

  ‘What is, lass?’

  She’d been so caught up in her desperation, her need for somewhere to place the child, that one crucial aspect had escaped her attention entirely. ‘How on earth am I to explain away my absence to Mr Birch, to Mam?’

  Chewing on her thumbnail, Maria thought for a moment. Then her face brightened. ‘You could tell your mam that Mr Birch’s sister … what’s her name?’

  ‘Mrs Kirkwood?’

  ‘Aye, that Mrs Kirkwood’s sick and you’ve offered to go and nurse her, and that Mr Birch has agreed.’

  ‘And the man hisself? What tale will I spin him?’

  ‘The same, only that you’ve been called away to nurse a sick relative at your mam’s request.’

  ‘But Maria, disappearing for …?’ She did a quick calculation on her fingers. ‘Three whole months? Mebbe more? That’s a hell of a long time to be away. Nay, it’s no good. It’d never wash with them.’

  ‘What choice have thee but to try?’

  None. She had none. She screwed her eyes shut once more.

  ‘I’ve a sister currently out of work what would willingly take over your position here ’til you return, so Mr Birch can’t grumble about a lack of a maid. And surely your mam won’t question your story, will she? What reason would she have to?’

  Jewel had to admit her friend spoke sense. ‘I suppose you’re right …’

  ‘Mr Birch and your mam ain’t likely to seek one another out to ask about thee, are they?’

  ‘Nay, probably not.’ At least she prayed so.

  ‘Right, well. That just leaves the babby’s father to deal with.’

  Maria talked as though this was the easy part. In truth, the prospect made Jewel feel physically sick. Just how would this work out?

  Chapter 11

  WITH PLANS NOW in place, Maria gave Jewel a supportive hug and left her to get some rest. Going above and beyond further still, s
he’d offered to call in on Flora to explain her daughter’s absence; Jewel was more than a little grateful and had told her so.

  Maxwell and Constance returned from their outing not long afterwards and, true to his word, Jewel soon heard his tread on the stairs as he came to check on her.

  His footsteps halted before they reached the kitchen and, for a long moment, there was silence. Though Jewel had her eyes closed, she felt his gaze from above but didn’t react. She was too wrought with grief from recent developments to endure company, even his, and craved to be left alone. To her relief, feigning sleep worked; seemingly reluctant to disturb her, Maxwell left her be.

  The door clicked shut behind him and Jewel opened her eyes to stare unseeing at the ceiling. Body and mind felt weighed down yet empty at the same time. A detachedness had settled within her. She felt lifeless, hollowed out. And things were only set to get worse from here on in.

  She could have remained here for ever, cocooned in her misery beneath the sheets, but Maxwell’s return late afternoon put paid to it. This time, he came right into the kitchen and, leaning over the bed, spoke to her:

  ‘Jewel? How are you feeling?’

  ‘Better, sir, I think,’ she lied. She felt sicker than ever.

  ‘Hm. You have a look of the fever about you still.’ Frowning, he studied her more closely. ‘Perhaps it would be wise to send for the doctor—’

  ‘Nay. Sir, really, there’s no need.’ God above, not that. The last thing she wanted was the medical man prodding and poking about her person, for he’d be quick to discover she was carrying more than a simple chill. ‘See, sir, I’m almost recovered,’ she added, ignoring her aching joints and head as, reluctantly, she covered herself with her shawl and dragged herself from her bed.

  ‘If you’re sure …?’

  ‘Course I am. Now, you take yourself to the drawing room and put your feet up and I’ll fetch you up a sup of tea. I’ll bring milk and biscuits for Constance, an’ all, shall I, sir?’ she asked, doing her best to remain upright and not sag against the wall, as she wanted to. Her limbs seemed void of strength; she felt as weak as a kitten.