by Mary Wood
He was in her arms. He was safe. ‘Ouch!’ Someone had jabbed a needle into his bottom. It hurt. His mam held him tighter. His eyes felt heavy, he couldn’t keep them open . . .
Megan felt the mattress sink as it took another weight. Hattie had come to lie beside her. Her arm came round her and Billy. There were no words Hattie could say. She knew that.
Issy stepped forward, her body bent over. Megan wanted to take Issy’s pain away, but knew she couldn’t. For a moment Issy just looked at her. Her head shook from side to side. Her body sank down in the chair next to the bed.
Was it all over? Could Issy forgive? Issy’s shaking hand reached out for hers, and Megan took it gladly.
Bridget came further into the room. She motioned with her head to Edward and he steered the rest of the doctors out and closed the door. Bridget came over and knelt in front of Issy.
‘Issy. Issy dear.’ She brushed a stray strand of hair back from Issy’s desolate face. ‘Everything will be all right, Issy.’ Issy looked up into Bridget’s face. Bridget paused a moment, then said, ‘Issy, I’ve never stopped thinking of you as a second mother. I just wished I’d conquered my shame and contacted you. When . . . when I realized I was carrying a baby, I wrote a letter, but I couldn’t post it. I so wished I had. I’ll look out for you now, Issy love. Just like you looked out for me when I was a girl, remember? You were all I had whilst Mother was in that workhouse.’
Issy patted Bridget’s hand, then turned to Megan. ‘Oh, lass . . .’
Megan understood. It was enough to have Issy’s warm, chubby hand in hers. It told her she still had Issy’s love. Despite everything she had brought down on her, Issy was still there for her.
So many questions were swimming about in her mind. Her granny in a workhouse? And Issy caring for her mam? But she didn’t voice them. The tears running down her mam’s face stopped her.
Megan looked at each of the women – women she loved, and who loved her. She could see that the pain pitted into her own heart was etched into each of them. It was a pain cut deep by others’ brutal acts.
She held Billy to her. She had no more tears left in her. No more. Surely Jack would come home now? And Billy would get the help he needed.
Megan relaxed back and let her head fall, so that she was looking at Hattie. Hattie smiled. It was a smile that held courage – enough courage for Megan to hold on to. She smiled back.
EPILOGUE
Finding Peace
1933
49
Reopened Wounds Bring Healing
‘Megan love . . .’
Megan did not turn round to look at him. The distance between them was a void too gaping and cold for Jack to cross.
‘What are you thinking, lass?’
‘I’m for feeling all the pain again. Not that it ever goes from me, but the letter has reopened the wounds and made them sore.’
‘I know, lass.
‘Why can’t she leave it alone? I – I know she’s dying. And, well, I understand she wants forgiveness, but why do you have to go to her? That woman broke me, Jack. She brought me so low that I’ve never properly recovered. She gnaws away at me thoughts. It’s like a war in me. I fight a daily battle with my hate for her.’
‘We’ll never be reet until it’s settled, lass. Going to her, and giving her the chance of getting our forgiveness, might settle it all.’
‘She wants you, Jack, not me. You! It says so in the letter.’
‘Well, that’s not going to be how it is. In the past I had to do Mrs Harvey’s bidding, but not now. If I go, you come, too.’
‘Wouldn’t a letter do? Did you ask Lord Crompton if we could write a letter saying as we forgive her?’
‘Aye, I did. He begged me to consider going.’
‘How can she do this? We’re just getting sorted. The year you spent in that prison . . . Oh God, Jack. And Billy – he’s settling, and doing well on the treatment. The shop’s beginning to make a profit. You have your job.’
‘It is as you say, lass, but there’s sommat between us. Sommat that’s not letting us be happy.’
‘You’re not happy with me?’
‘I didn’t say that, Megan. What I’m trying to say is there are loose ends. Stuff we need to face. Just living with it isn’t working. Once it’s done we can—’
‘And going to Laura Harvey on her deathbed and giving her our blessing will end it? I don’t know as I can do it, Jack. I don’t know as I want to. The hate in me wants her to rot in hell!’
‘That’s it, Megan. That’s just it. The hate in you – the bitterness – it is eating you away. You’re letting her win.’
‘Win! Don’t you see, Jack, she has won. She has the power to open all the vileness, and lay it raw between us.’
Megan turned to face him, and what Jack saw in her face made his heart ache.
Two years had passed, and one of those they had spent apart. He could still hear the judge: ‘Jack Frederick Fellam, you have been found guilty of perverting the course of justice, in that you withheld information that would have assisted the police in their enquiries. Taking into account all the circumstances, and the time you have already spent in prison, you are sentenced to be detained for twelve months . . .’ And so it had droned on.
In some ways he and Megan had been stronger during that year – determined not to let their lives be ruined. It had been hell, but it was a hell they had got through. Megan kept busy rebuilding her business. Billy was sectioned for an indefinite period, but – with the help of Bridget and Edward – he was in one of the best mental hospitals available and had started to make progress from the very beginning. His newfound affection for his mam was a salve to Megan.
On Jack’s release from prison they had married, making it a double wedding with Hattie and Harry. It had been a good day, a happy day. And, to top it all, not long afterwards and right out of the blue, Smythe’s had offered him a job. He could never understand why, but it was welcome and he was plodding along there. The other blokes knew all about him and what had gone on, and didn’t seem to bother about it all. They respected his knowledge and his skills with the horses, and all in all it was working out for him there.
On the face of it, everything should be grand. Oh, he’d known there would be a lot of healing to do. He had thought his love could do that. But the letter from Lord and Lady Crompton had shown that it couldn’t:
We feel we have no right to contact you. Please forgive us for doing so. Mrs Harvey is very ill. Her life is coming to an end. She has a dying wish to see you and to ask you to forgive her. She is deeply troubled and holding onto life for this one thing. As her sister and brother-in-law, we appeal to you on her behalf to consider making the trip to Switzerland and extending your forgiveness to her. We fully understand if you are unable to oblige.
Please contact Lord Crompton . . .
Lord Crompton had been very humble when Jack had contacted him. ‘I beg of you, Jack, to allow my sister-in-law to die in peace, and my wife to be able to know she did do so.’
‘I need to think, Jack.’ Megan’s words cut into his thoughts now. He lifted his head. The void was still there. Megan walked towards him. She didn’t stop by him or speak again. Her feelings were echoed in the slam of the door. After a few moments the front-door latch clicked, and then that too banged shut. Jack raised his eyes. Was he asking too much? Well, if he knew anything, Megan would have gone to Hattie, and that was a good thing. Hattie would help her.
‘Is everything all right, Jack?’ Issy came into the room. Jack looked at her and saw the worry etched into her face. It was a worry that he wasn’t able to relieve her from – he didn’t know how to. If anything, she was the one who helped the situation. Oh, and Sarah, of course. Sarah was growing up with a sensible head on her shoulders. Together, she and Issy kept them all going. Kept some balance in the fraught atmosphere.
‘Make us a cuppa, Ma, and I’ll tell you all about it. I could do with your advice.’
‘If it’s ad
vice you need, Jack, then you most likely know what you need to do, and you just want me to help you decide. Eeh, lad. Will it ever end?’
‘Megan, I’m going to talk straight. It’s not likely as you’re going to like what I say, but it has to be said.’
Hattie had that look on her face that Megan knew well. Frustration frayed her temper. ‘I know you’re going to side with Jack . . .’
‘Look, lass, if you’ve a mind not to listen, why did you come? I’m not letting you off the hook with this one, Megan. Jack is right. The bitterness in you is destroying the person we love. Every one of us can see it and feel it. Your mam’s worried over you – oh, yes, we’ve spoken. And we both agree: you have to reach a conclusion to all of this. Some of it you have to live with, but Mrs Harvey’s involvement you don’t have to!’
‘But, Hattie . . .’
‘I won’t listen to your side, because I know it. Where d’you think as me and Harry would be, if he harboured feelings in him about me past, eh? None of us can alter our past. Jack had an affair; it meant nothing to him. I’ve told you afore, men are different to us, but Jack is different to most. He had his chances when Ciss were alive – God rest her – but his love for her stopped him. That marks him as a good ’un, in my books. He has told you that when he spoke of you to Mrs Harvey it was with pride, aye, and with love. He had no idea it would lead to what it did.’
‘I don’t blame Jack, Hattie.’
‘You say you don’t, but he feels blamed, and that on top of everything is wearing him down. He cannot say sorry all his life, Megan.’
‘I – I . . .’
‘Oh, love.’
Megan went into the fold of Hattie’s arms. Her tears, locked away so long ago, tore from her body in a torrent that she felt she’d never be able to stop.
‘Forgive, Megan. Forgive.’
A feeling as if a door had opened in Megan’s heart drained her tears to nothing. Her sobs became sniffles. Hattie was right. Jack was right. Her mam, Issy – all of them were right!
‘Why d’yer think you and Billy are at peace, love? It’s because Billy has been helped to forgive you. Oh, I know what the little chap thought was your fault wasn’t, but to him it was. Once those working with him managed to get him to forgive – to understand – he was able to return your love. They are working on getting him to forgive his dad, now. And then . . .’
‘How d’yer know all this, Hattie?’
‘Yer mam – my pretend mam, bless her. She telephones me and we have long chats.’
‘About me?’
‘Yes, mostly. As I said, we are all worried sick for you, love.’
‘It’ll be all reet. I can see that now. Ta, Hattie. Oh, ta ever so much. I understand. I’ll do it. I’ll forgive Mrs Harvey. I will. And, thou knows, I need to work through all the folk involved, just like Billy is. Mam said not long back she could get that psychiatrist bloke to help me. I snapped her head off, said I didn’t need help, but I do, don’t I, Hattie?’
‘You do, love. We have all tried, but we are too close, and we only make you cross. Oh, Megan, I’m so glad. I’m so glad.’
Jack and Megan’s journey by rail and sea to Switzerland gave them time to talk and, free from everyday cares, they had time to listen to each other, too. Jack told Megan he’d long since come to an understanding in himself and had found forgiveness for Laura’s actions, and he hoped she had forgiven him.
Megan couldn’t help feeling a small pang of hurt as he spoke. Part of her wanted to say that he had no right to forgive the woman, not until she had.
As if he had read her thoughts, Jack held her close. ‘Megan, I’m not saying I forgive her for what she did to you. I can’t do that until you do. It is what she did to me that I can forgive, as I shoulder half of the blame. I should have held out against her, but in a funny way I came to understand her. Her loneliness, her grief – all of it mirrored my own, and it drew us together.’
‘I can only say that I want to forgive her. I want to understand. And I will try, though I am hoping sommat happens that will make it all come naturally,’ Megan told him.
They met up with Lord and Lady Crompton on their arrival and found that they had booked them into a small guesthouse. Arrangements were made to take them to the clinic later that day.
Jack felt he was entering a gulf of silence as they went inside the clinic. The squeak of their every step on the polished floor of the long corridors only deepened the dread in him. He held onto Megan. Lord Crompton walked ahead of them, showing them the way. Lady Crompton had stayed in the car. Neither of them had commented on Jack having brought Megan to the clinic with him. They were allowing him to handle the situation in his own way.
When they reached the room, Lord Crompton stopped outside. The doors stood open. A set of doors on the other side of the room opened onto a balcony with a spectacular view across a shimmering lake, mirroring a backdrop of snow-covered mountains. And yet it wasn’t cold. The late-September sun beamed warming rays into the room. Jack could see that the staff had wheeled Laura’s bed out onto the balcony.
The moment they stepped into the room, a weak but unmistakable voice called out, ‘Jack?’
Megan clutched his sleeve. He looked down at her. ‘Go to her, love. Go on your own, first. I’ll wait in the corridor. Fetch me when you are ready.’
‘But . . .’
‘It’s all right, Jack. Go on. Do what you have to do. Say what you have to say. I am never going to ask you about it. This has to be the end. I will come in. I will, but not yet.’
Jack didn’t answer her. He knew she meant it. If it was possible, Megan’s newfound understanding had only helped to deepen his love for her. He held her close, then waited for her to leave. Lord Crompton went with her. It was Megan who closed the door behind them. At that moment Jack knew her trust in him had been re-forged. He took a deep breath. Whatever was to come, he was ready.
But nothing prepared him for the sight of Laura. Her features had sunk into her face. He could see nothing of the beauty he remembered, as the small amount of flesh left on her made her appear skeletal. And yet something of the old Laura remained in her eyes. He hoped she hadn’t noticed the shock that the sight of her had caused him, or the overwhelming pity that swamped him – a pity that mingled with other emotions churning inside him. This dying woman had lain in his arms, had made love to him, had loved him and wanted him. He crossed over to her side and sat on the chair provided. He could think of nothing to say other than, ‘Hello, Laura. How’re you feeling, lass?’
It was a stupid question. He wanted to tell her he would make everything right for her. He’d change things – she wouldn’t die. But that, too, would be stupid.
Her thin, trembling hand stretched out to him and he took it. ‘Oh, Laura lass. I—’
‘Shush. You’re here now. It’s all I wanted – just to see you again before . . . and to tell you something . . .’ She was overcome by a fit of coughing.
He leaned forward and held her. He waited while she calmed.
When she did, she said, ‘I’ve had a lot of time to think. I’m sorry. So sorry – tell Megan . . .’
‘Megan’s here. She’s outside, and she wants to see you when you are ready. For my part, everything is all right. Don’t think on it. It’s done with. And, listen, I’m not without guilt, as I didn’t treat you right. I should never have—’
‘No. No, don’t take on any of the guilt, Jack. It was my doing – all of it – and I want to make amends.’
‘There are no amends that have to be made.’
‘Tell me, Jack. Did you . . . ever love me?’
This is what he had been dreading. But he’d made up his mind that if he got the chance and was on his own with her, he would lie. If that was what he could do for Laura, to help her die happy, he would do it.
‘Aye, I did, Laura. I did love you. It died in me when everything took place, but now I know you are sorry, I can feel it again.’
‘You . . . have made me
very happy – very happy, Jack. I have always loved you, though my love was selfish and made me do things . . . to hurt you. It isn’t now. It—’ She could not continue, and her body was again racked with coughing and her breath so laboured that Jack got up and called out for help.
The room filled with nurses and doctors. Megan rushed in, along with Lord Crompton. Once the nurses had dragged the bed back into the room, Megan stood next to Jack on the balcony, looking out at the beautiful view. Jack felt his eyes mist over. The action going on in the room behind him filled him with a sense of helplessness.
The doctor eventually came to them and, in heavily accented English, told them that Laura did not have long. ‘Lord Crompton has gone to fetch her sister. It is hoped they will be in time.’ His head shook from side to side as he said this. ‘We will wheel Laura out here again. She has many times expressed a wish that she be allowed to die looking at the beautiful mountains.’
Megan held Jack even tighter than she had done before. The sense of helplessness deepened. He could only stand transfixed as the nurses manoeuvred the bed back out onto the balcony. Once this task was completed, Jack looked down at Laura. He would have said that she had shrunk even more, had it been possible for her to do so. He knelt beside her and held her hand. ‘Megan is here, Laura.’
Her eyes flickered open. Her hand clawed weakly at the sheet.
‘For – forgive me, Meg . . .’
Megan knelt down. ‘I do. I do. Jack has made me understand how lonely you were and how you had no real idea of what might happen. You weren’t used to folk like Bert. You didn’t understand what the consequences of your actions would be. You lived in a different world. I don’t think you would have done it, if you’d been like us and knew the way of us. You were fighting to keep your man. I can understand that.’
Laura’s half-closed, glazed eyes showed a flicker of light. Her lips moved, but no words came out, then they closed in a small but lovely smile.
Jack kissed her hand and assured her again that all was forgiven.