Don’t Cry Alone

by Don’t Cry Alone (retail) (epub)

  Beth felt embarrassed anew at the prospect of having to explain to David how she had changed her mind and was content to leave things as they were with regard to the doctor’s fees. Now, when he strode into the room, a smile on his lips and a shy look in his timid brown eyes as they swept her face adoringly, she thought about Maisie’s words: ‘Been starved o’ love… happen the good Lord’s been helping him save it up to heap on you an’ the babby.’ These words were still echoing in her heart when he sat down with his eyes still fixed on her face, and a kind of sadness about him. And try as she might to hold herself aloof from him, Beth was surprised and disturbed to find herself responding to his enthusiasm and gentle manner with a certain relaxation of her own. Her instincts told her that this man was harmless enough, even amiable. Yet, her deeper instincts warned her to be careful, for men were hard and unpredictable creatures who could smile sweetly while sticking you under the ribs with a carving knife! After all, the three men who had meant all the world to her, and one in particular whom she had thought to spend the rest of her life with, had each deserted her when she needed them most. It would take a good man, a very special man, to convince her that all men were not the same. Until that unlikely day, she would be on her guard.

  Beth was not to know that the unlikely day was only three weeks away. Even now while the two of them were exchanging pleasantries, he bearing in mind what Maisie had confided in him and she thinking how truly wonderful it would be if Tyler were to walk through that door to claim her and his child, Fate was creating the very circumstances that would draw her to David Miller in a way that she could never have envisaged.

  * * *

  On a rainy Friday morning in March, some few weeks after David Miller’s astonishing proposal, Beth went into labour. The evening before she had been fretful and unsettled, not wanting to sit, unable to walk with any degree of comfort, and her whole body feeling as though it was burning up. ‘What ails yer, lass?’ Maisie had asked, putting down her sewing and eyeing Beth with a knowing look. ‘In pain, are yer? Is it time, d’yer reckon?’

  She saw how Beth was unduly flushed and agitated. Her own two had never taken her in that way, because they’d arrived in the middle of the night without so much as a minute’s warning. But then, no two women were the same. Maisie was acutely aware that this was a first birthing. She was also mindful of the fact that Beth had been dragged down by her recent illness. Except for the huge mound at her middle, the lass was not as far through as a matchstick, with her pitiful, thin face and big lost eyes.

  ‘I just feel so warm,’ Beth explained. ‘Uncomfortable, like.’

  ‘Is there any pain, lass?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Has yer waters broke?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’ Maisie had described to Beth how she would first know when she was going into labour. ‘There’ll be one o’ two ways o’ knowing,’ she promised. ‘Either you’ll go straight into labour pains… dull, rhythmic contractions that increase with the babby’s intent to come into the world; or your waters will break… that’s ter say, the protective skin below will break with the pressure, and the fluid which has cushioned the babby from harm will come gently away.’ As far as Beth could tell, neither of those things had actually begun to happen.

  ‘Aye, well, it don’t mean ter say it ain’t started,’ Maisie said after some consideration. ‘It might be as well if I sleep with one eye open tonight, eh?’ she asked with a little smile.

  And that was just what she did. Beth knew that, because she also could not sleep… tossing and turning this way, then that, perspiration breaking out all over her and a strange sense of urgency building up inside her. At quarter to four the following morning, she was out of bed and watching from the window as the sky began to flood with light, silhouetting the irregular skyline with its array of chimneys, monumental cylindrical pipes rising from the cotton mills, together with the nearer squat chimneys jutting from the endless rows of back-to-back dwellings. Already the ascending curls of smoke were darkening the coming dawn and shrouding the many tall, proud church spires. Yet, in spite of the grime and the black clouds already forming to disperse the daylight, Beth was always fascinated by the way night-time fell away and the world was lit once again; as though an almighty invisible hand had put a match to a huge gas-lamp just beyond the horizon.

  She sat by the window, quiet as a mouse so as not to disturb Maisie, who in spite of her determined vigil had fallen asleep some time ago and was snoring to her heart’s content. In this small room, and with the birth of her child so obviously imminent, Beth’s deeper memories were awakened. Memories of another room not so unlike this one, a room where she and Tyler had lain in each other’s arms and vowed their undying love. A stark, unwelcoming room made warm and cosy by their happiness. She recalled how she and Tyler had made wonderful love, afterwards lying content in each other’s arms. She had not regretted it then and she did not regret it now; if anything, she thanked the Lord for His blessings. What she did regret was her naivety, the way she had hung on Tyler’s every word, believing with all her heart that he meant every single thing he told her.

  Those same words echoed in her mind now. ‘Oh, Beth! Beth… you’re all I ever want in life. I love you so much. So very much.’ Now as she thought of the softness of his voice, the warm fervent touch of his mouth pressed against hers, the bitter-sweet emotions that rippled through her were almost unbearable. With his words came another’s; the girl, brassy-faced and tearful as she revealed how Tyler had whispered the very same endearments in her ear… made her with child, then deserted her when she threatened to tell Beth what was going on. Even now, she questioned her own wisdom in believing the girl, yet the truth was she had no real choice but to believe her. When Annie showed her the brooch… given to her by Tyler, the same brooch which once had been her own, Beth was shocked to the core. Even then she would have given Tyler the benefit of doubt, or at least listened to his side of the story. Now though, all of that was irrelevant, because if she had needed proof that Tyler had used her in the same way he had used that girl, she only had to look around her now. It shouldn’t be dear Maisie comforting her, it should be Tyler. He who had not bothered to seek her out, and for all she knew was even now charming some other unsuspecting girl into his bed.

  ‘How could you do it?’ Beth whispered now. ‘Couldn’t you see I would have moved heaven and earth just to be with you?’ She watched the unfolding day a while longer, then when weariness overwhelmed her, she bent her head to the windowsill, crossed her arms to form a pillow, and drifted into a deep quiet sleep.

  When Maisie woke to find Beth was not slumbering beside her, she was instantly alarmed. Sitting bolt upright she cast her sleepy eyes from one corner of the room to the other. When she saw the figure by the window, she breathed a sigh of relief. Scrambling out of bed and gasping when the cold lino met her bare feet, she called out, ‘Beth… are you all right, lass?’ When there was no answer she tiptoed to the window. ‘Beth?’ Still no answer and her old heart turned over. A little closer, and she saw at once why Beth had given no response. ‘Why, the poor little sod’s hard and fast asleep!’ she told herself. Reluctant to wake her, for she knew that Beth, like herself, had suffered too many restless nights, Maisie went on soft footsteps back to the bed. She slid away the eiderdown, and then carried it back to Beth, with gentle movements draping it ever so carefully over Beth’s huddled form.

  A few moments later, Maisie was dressed and on her way out of the room. At the door she paused a while to look at Beth with great affection. ‘Bless yer heart, lass,’ she whispered. ‘It’s plain the babby ain’t yet urgent, but it won’t be long now. We shall have us a new addition to the family within the next twenty-four hours, I should say.’ Delight spread over her face at the prospect of a new babby lying in her arms. ‘Oh, it will be grand, lass. It’s a long time since old Maisie felt a young’un nuzzling up to her. No, it won’t be too long, lass,’ she told the sleeping Beth. ‘’Til then yer must get
what sleep yer can.’ Here she shook her head, saying in a more sombre voice, ‘Though I don’t like ter see yer all bent up like that, yet I daren’t wake yer. No, I wouldn’t be so heartless.’

  Making up her mind to return as soon as ever she could and risk making Beth more comfortable, Maisie scurried away to get Matthew off to his work, and to shake the sleep from that rascal Cissie whom she intended sending to school, especially after that suspicious business yesterday. No doubt the lass would give her a good argument as to why she should not be sent, and truth be told Maisie couldn’t help but secretly sympathise with her; after all, she herself had not suffered the misfortune of being marched off to school to learn the rudiments of reading and writing and she hadn’t come to any great harm for the lack of it, now had she?

  ‘I hate it!’ Cissie toyed with her food. Somehow her appetite had altogether gone and her mood was defiant as she stared up at Maisie. ‘You wouldn’t like it, would you, Mam?’ she cried. ‘Nobody in their right mind would like it. You don’t know how awful it is, or you wouldn’t make me go there. Honest to God, Mam, it’s just like a prison! Worse! That’s what it is, Mam… it’s worse.’

  ‘Give over, our Cissie,’ Maisie told her impatiently. ‘How in God’s name can it be worse than a prison?’ She was rapidly losing her temper. ‘Yer ain’t shackled to the wall, are yer?’

  ‘No, but we might as well be,’ retorted Cissie.

  ‘Yer ain’t! And that’s enough,’ warned Maisie. ‘And yer ain’t fed on bread and water, are yer?’

  ‘We ain’t fed on nothing, that’s what.’

  ‘And yer ain’t made to wear them overalls with arrows on, are yer?’ Maisie persisted.

  ‘Well… no,’Cissie reluctantly conceded, realising with disgust and a sinking heart that she was losing the argument. ‘But sometimes Mr Siniter flogs the boys with the cat-o’-nine-tails!’ she added hopefully.

  ‘And no doubt the buggers deserve it,’ retorted Maisie, being wise to Cissie’s ploy; although she didn’t doubt for one minute that the boys were flogged, some of the lasses too she wouldn’t be surprised.

  ‘Oh, Mam!’ Cissie rounded the table and tugged at Maisie’s apron. ‘I hate being squashed in amongst ninety brats, and having my knuckles rapped when I don’t understand what Mr Siniter’s telling me. I don’t understand sums, and all them strange words. Don’t make me go. Please, Mam.’

  ‘Yer have to go, lass,’ Maisie argued. ‘That there Gladstone fella made it legal that all childer have to attend school ’til they’re ten year old. If that education bloke finds I’ve failed in me duty, like as not the bugger’ll have me clapped in irons!’

  ‘That’s never worried you before.’ Cissie was desperate enough to be unusually cheeky.

  ‘Well, it’s worrying me now!’ Maisie retorted impatiently. Maisie might well have pursued the matter to its conclusion but she was in too much of a hurry to see the children away and get back upstairs. She turned away to attend to young Matthew, who had been sensible enough to remain silent throughout the bantering.

  Cissie gave no reply and returned her attention to her breakfast, scooping the milky-pobs from her bowl and sucking at the soft wet bread that dripped on her spoon. Now and then she glanced at Matthew, wanting to say something, but afraid in case it got her mam all worked up again. ‘It’s not fair,’ she muttered under her breath, quickly wolfing down her food when Maisie flashed her a warning look.

  For the next few moments, all was quiet round the table, save for the occasional slurping sound when it seemed a pob of bread might slide from the spoon and plop back into the bowl. Maisie finished her breakfast as quickly as she could, without choking herself. But she felt sorry that she must force the lass to school, and now and then stole a glance at the miserable little face, a face that was beloved by her, a small peaked face with a pretty mouth and large expressive blue eyes that were presently turned down to stare dolefully at the newspaper that served as a tablecloth.

  The newspaper had been given to Maisie by the man in the corner shop, otherwise it might have been thrown into the midden and that would have been a terrible shame – although it was too full of words and pictures of Gladstone to be of much interest to Maisie. There were several large holes in the newspaper where she had cut out the precious pictures of Queen Victoria, who strangely enough reminded Maisie of her dear old mam long gone.

  Although she was glad that Cissie had managed to sieve at least some learning from her all too rare attendances at school, Maisie did not altogether regret the fact that she herself could make neither head nor tail of what was written on that newspaper but she knew the content well enough, because Beth had taken the trouble to read the articles to her.

  ‘You should be kept informed of what’s going on, Maisie,’ Beth had told her seriously when she loudly protested how she didn’t see no point in knowing all about umpteen things that made not the slightest jot of difference to the likes of her; such as how a fella called Daimler had got the first petrol-driven car; or talk of the Royal Jubilee; although she had been interested to hear how unions for ordinary workers were springing up all over the country.

  ‘It won’t last though,’ she’d told Beth cynically. ‘You’ll see… the high and mighty buggers in government won’t let ordinary folks have no say in nothing.’ Maisie harboured no illusions where men in tall hats and carrying canes were concerned. ‘They’re all mouth and bloody trousers… don’t know what it’s like to go without a crust, or to have their bellies rumbling with hunger, or to lie in a damp bed and watch a cockroach crawl up the wall and on to the ceiling where it might fall on yer face in the middle of the night. What the bleedin’ hell do they know, eh? What do they know of ordinary folk such as you and me?’

  ‘Can I say cheerio to Beth, then?’ Cissie asked, a smile returning to her face at the thought of a few extra precious moments.

  ‘No, lass, yer can’t do that, ’cause Beth’s fast and hard asleep, and she ain’t slept too well these past nights.’

  ‘Aw, Mam,’ Cissie moaned. ‘Can’t I wake her up, just for a minute, eh?’

  ‘No!’ Maisie was adamant. ‘Yer can’t do no such thing.’

  ‘Well, can I peep in at her? I promise I won’t make a noise.’ Just the sight of Beth would gladden her sorry heart.

  Maisie thought for a moment. ‘Aw, all right. But mind yer don’t open the door none too wide, and mind yer don’t wake her up, our Cissie… else you’ll be going to school with a sore arse as well as a sour face!’ she warned. She watched as the girl went eagerly across the room and quietly up the stairs. Cissie would not wake Beth, Maisie was sure of it. If she was a jealous woman, she might well take umbrage at the way the girl adored Beth. But then, Maisie herself felt the same way about the lovely young woman who had come into their lives, so how could she resent Cissie’s affection for her? If anything it was a joy to see, and the Lord alone knew Beth had been desperately in need of a friend when she first set foot in Blackburn.

  ‘I can’t eat no more, Mam.’ Matthew pushed his plate away.

  ‘But you’ve hardly touched it, lad,’ Maisie said without reprimand. These past weeks she had been concerned about the boy. He seemed to be unusually quiet; although of course he had never been the lively little chatterbox that Cissie was. All the same, Maisie had noticed how withdrawn he’d become of late, and how he was always wanting to go to his bed afore time. Lately, too, he had not been eating enough to keep a sparrow alive. She looked at him now, with his floppy mass of brown hair and eyes as violet as her own, and she thought how tender he was at eleven years old to be working alongside grown men down in the mines. Not for the first time, she asked herself whether there could have been any other way she might have organised things. But the answer was always the same. When her darling man was lost in those same bloody mines, she had done the best she could; although there was never a day went by when she didn’t regret the way young Matthew seemed to be paying the biggest price of all. ‘Your dad would have been so proud
of you, lad,’ she said now in a choking voice.

  When the boy smiled back at her, Maisie’s heart went out to him. He did seem a sad little thing. ‘What is it, luv?’ she asked, bending her head to look into his face. ‘Are yer poorly?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What then? Are yer tired, eh?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Is it to do with yer work then?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But there is some’at on yer mind, ain’t there?’

  Matthew did not instantly respond to this particular question, but then he said something which surprised Maisie. ‘How long will Beth be staying with us?’

  ‘Beth?’ Maisie thought she detected a note of resentment in the boy’s voice, although she could not be certain. ‘Why… as long as she needs to, I expect. And, like I’ve already told her, she’s as welcome in this house as a ray of sunshine.’

  ‘The babby too?’ The boy kept his violet eyes on Maisie’s disbelieving face.

  ‘Of course the babby too.’ When her answer sent the boy into a thoughtful silence, Maisie told him caringly, ‘You know how Beth was dreadfully unhappy when she came here?’ When he nodded, she went on, ‘And it’s allus been yer mammy’s policy never to turn a wretched soul away?’ He nodded again. ‘So… d’yer think I were wrong? D’yer think I should have left Beth where she was… lying unconscious on the street with not a friend in sight? Is that what you would have done, son?’ Maisie’s pointed words caused him to think. He took a while to answer but when he did, it was merely to shake his head somewhat reluctantly. Maisie was glad in her heart that her son could see it was right to have taken Beth in. ‘And d’yer agree that she has been a good friend to us all?’ she insisted.