A Daughter's Choice

by Cathy Sharp

‘Yes, of course. I’ll go up and tell her I’m home.’

  ‘I’ll get off then. You know where I am if you need me. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, Kathy. I’m always ready to do what I can.’

  ‘I know that. You’ve been a good friend to Gran – to us both – but you’re busy and you can’t be here all the time.’

  ‘I’ve always had a soft spot for you, love. I expect it was being there when you were born; it was a special moment for me, the first time I’d thought of having a child of my own, and I’ve never forgotten it.’

  Bridget smiled and left. I went upstairs to Gran’s room. She was lying with her eyes closed and her breathing was laboured. My heart caught with fear as I realized for myself how very frail she was, and how much I loved her. Tears of regret stung my eyes, because I was afraid she might die and never know I was near.

  ‘Gran,’ I whispered hesitantly, not wanting to wake her if she was sleeping. ‘Are you awake? It’s Kathy. I’ve come home to look after you.’

  For a moment there was no response and I was about to leave her to rest when her eyelids fluttered. She looked up at me seeming puzzled for a few seconds, and then she smiled. It was a weary smile but full of warmth and love.

  ‘Hello, Kathy love,’ she murmured. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

  I sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in mine. It felt thin and the skin was very soft, easily bruised. ‘Is there anything you need? A nice warm drink or some soup perhaps? There was a pot on the stove that Bridget brought.’

  ‘Just you, love. I don’t need anythin’ more. Stay with me for a while. I shan’t keep you long.’

  ‘Oh Gran …’ I smothered the sob that rose to my throat as I realized what she was saying. ‘You’ll be better soon.’

  She made a negative movement of her head but was too tired and too ill to say more. As I sat holding her hand, the tears trickling down my cheeks, I knew she was right. She was gradually slipping away from us and there was nothing either the doctor or I could do about it.

  At some period during the late evening I heard a noise down in the kitchen. Someone was there and by the sound of it that someone was either in a bad temper or drunk, sending things crashing to the floor and making enough noise to waken the dead. Gran was sleeping so I left her and went down to investigate.

  My father was cramming a piece of bread into his mouth, which he then spat out in disgust on discovery that it was stale. He swore loudly and turned to face me standing in the doorway watching him.

  ‘I ’eard you were home,’ he muttered sourly. ‘Where’s my bleedin’ tea then?’

  ‘I haven’t had time to think about food. I’ve been sitting with Gran. She’s dying.’

  ‘Bloody old witch,’ he said. ‘Leave ’er to get on with it and fix me something to eat.’

  ‘Get yourself a pie from the shop – or have some of the soup Bridget brought; it’s there on the stove so it will still be warm. Tomorrow I’ll do some shopping for proper food but I’m not leaving Gran tonight.’

  ‘You’ll feel the back of me ‘and, girl!’

  ‘Oh no I shan’t. Try it and I’ll have the police on you. I’m not your punch bag and I shall not be treated as one. You’ve no right to hit me and I’m not prepared to put up with it.’

  He scowled furiously. Clearly he was tempted to assert his authority by using his strength, but he could see I wasn’t going to back down.

  ‘Bloody bitch! You’re just like your mother. I was a fool to marry her when I did. She wasn’t even carrying my child … took me for a right sucker!’

  His words stunned me and I felt icy cold all over.

  ‘What do you mean, she wasn’t carrying your child?’

  ‘Work it out fer yerself since you’re so bleedin’ clever!’

  He lurched towards the door where I was standing, aiming a clumsy blow at me in passing. I avoided it easily but I felt shocked and numbed by his words. If I wasn’t his child then who was I? Why had he and Gran let me believe I was his daughter all these years?

  My thoughts were abruptly suspended by a cry from Gran’s room. I ran out into the hall. My father had gone out again, leaving the street door wide open. I pushed it to before hurrying upstairs.

  Gran was trying to get out of bed and had ended up half in and half out; flopped over helplessly, she couldn’t move and was making pitiful whimpering sounds. I went to her, helping to swing her legs back under the covers.

  ‘Don’t try to get up, Gran. You’re too weak. If you want the pot I’ll help you to use it where you are.’

  She clutched at my arm, her eyes wild and staring. I realized that her mind was wandering and that she didn’t know me.

  ‘I have to tell Kathy,’ she muttered feverishly. ‘Should’ve told her the truth a long time ago. She mustn’t come here. It’s not safe for her … not safe …’

  ‘It’s all right, Gran. Kathy can take care of herself. She knows about Ernie. She will be all right.’

  ‘He’s mad and evil,’ she went on without listening to what I was saying. ‘Tell ’er … tell ’er to be careful of ’im. She weren’t Ernie’s. He never ought ter ’ave married Grace and it’s made ’im bitter and evil. ’E’ll ’urt ’er one of these days …’

  ‘Just rest now,’ I urged. ‘There’s no need to fret, Gran. I’m all right. Don’t worry about me.’

  She lay back against the pillows with a sigh, closing her eyes. I knew her efforts to reach me had exhausted her frail strength and I wondered if she would last the night.

  Sitting by her side as she gradually faded I thought about what I’d learned that night. Ernie Cole’s bitter words might have been spoken out of spite but Gran’s fevered ravings were obviously something that had been playing on her mind for a long time.

  My mother had tricked Ernie Cole into marrying her by claiming I was his child, but that was a lie. The truth about my mother was like a nasty taste in my mouth and it left me wondering.

  If I wasn’t Ernie Cole’s child – who was I?

  Bridget came round early the next morning with some bacon she had fried for my breakfast, and Gran was still clinging precariously to life.

  ‘You eat this bacon sandwich, lass,’ Bridget said, bringing it up on a tray with a cup of tea. ‘I knew you wouldn’t want to leave her and you can have this sitting here.’ She glanced at the bed and looked upset. ‘She’s fading, lass. I doubt she’ll last much longer. Do you want me to stay with you?’

  ‘No thank you, Bridget. I’m not afraid of death. I’ve seen it often enough at the hospital.’

  ‘Yes, I expect you have, Kathy. Your Gran was very proud of you. She used to talk about you all the time.’

  ‘I feel I let her down when she needed me …’ The tears rose up to choke me. ‘I should’ve been here sooner.’

  ‘Ah, don’t take on so, me darlin’,’ Bridget said, sounding more Irish than she usually did these days. ‘Sure it wasn’t your fault. And she wouldn’t have wanted you here too soon …’ Bridget halted, looking conscious as though aware of having said more than she ought.

  ‘You mean because of my father?’ I blinked the tears away. ‘Only he isn’t my father, is he? My mother was carrying me before she married him and I wasn’t his, was I?’

  ‘Who told you that, Kathy?’

  ‘He did – last night when he came in drunk and expected me to get his supper. I would not leave Gran so he told me I was like my mother and that she was a bloody bitch who had taken him for a fool.’

  ‘He was drunk, Kathy.’

  ‘Yes, but it was the truth, wasn’t it? Gran said something in a fever last night. She was trying to warn me against him. She was afraid he might harm me.’

  ‘Yes, she has said something like that to me in the past,’ Bridget admitted. ‘As for whose child you are, I’ve never known for sure. When your father married Grace he was convinced you were his – and you might have been. But then, later, after he had begun to regret his marriage he told me that she had lied to him at the
start and … when they argued she taunted him by saying that you weren’t his.’

  ‘You don’t know whose child I might be?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Kathy. I’ve no idea. Ernie promised me he would always be your father, and Jean loved you from the start. When Grace went off and left you, she took you on and nursed you as if you were her own. As far as your gran was concerned, you were her baby and it didn’t matter who your mother and father were. She just loved you for yourself.’

  ‘I know Gran loves me. I love her.’ My throat tightened. ‘I’m going to miss her so much. I shouldn’t have gone off to be a nurse and left her alone.’

  ‘Of course you should,’ Bridget said. ‘You’ve been doing a worthwhile job and children always go away when they grow up. My children are no exception. My eldest son joined the Air Force as soon as he was able as a cadet, my second son is away at college training to be a doctor like his uncle, and my daughter Amy will no doubt fly the nest as soon as she’s old enough. She’s talking of going to an art school when she finishes at school, but what good that will do her I don’t know. At least you did something to help others, Kathy.’

  ‘I think I have been helping others in my own little way – but I feel bad over Gran.’

  ‘Well, you needn’t. I’ve done everything you could have done if you’d been here, Kathy. She was always very independent and she wouldn’t let anyone do much, but I saw that she was all right.’

  ‘I know.’ I smiled at her and then blew my nose, blinking back my tears. ‘I’m just being sentimental and silly because I don’t want to lose her.’

  ‘I know, love. I know – but she’s ready to go. It’s her time.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’ I went back to the bed. Gran seemed to be sleeping but as I sat down and reached for her hand she opened her eyes and smiled at me.

  ‘Kathy love …’

  And then she closed her eyes again and I knew she had slipped away between breaths.

  ‘She’s gone,’ Bridget said and her voice was thick with emotion. I turned to see tears trickling down her cheeks. ‘God bless her. She was a good woman, Kathy.’

  ‘Yes, she was.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to sit with her for a little,’ Bridget said. ‘Would you like me to arrange things for you – or will you look after her yourself?’

  ‘I’ll wash her and do what’s necessary,’ I said. ‘But could you ask someone to call about the funeral arrangements? My father isn’t likely to stir himself and she must have a decent burial.’

  ‘My Joe will do all that for you,’ Bridget said. ‘And don’t worry about money, Kathy. Your gran had been putting a few shillings by with Joe for this day, and he promised her he would do things just as she wanted. There will be black horses and a proper hearse, so that the whole street can show their respects.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  I wasn’t sure Bridget was telling me the truth about the money. I had suspected for years that she had given Gran money to help out with the housekeeping when Ernie left her short, but Bridget and Joe Robinson were good friends of hers, and if they wanted to do this for their friend I couldn’t go against them. Besides, I might soon be married to Bridget’s brother so in a sense they were my family.

  Maggie Ryan came to see me after Bridget left. She asked if she could do anything to help, but I told her I could manage. She seemed disappointed, looking at me expectantly as if she was waiting for me to tell her something. I wasn’t in the mood for talking, and after a few minutes she got up to leave.

  ‘You’re upset, Kathy, and tired, I dare say. I’ll go and leave you alone.’

  ‘Yes, yes I am a little tired. Thank you for coming, Maggie. I just don’t feel like company much at the moment.’

  ‘Come and see me before you go back,’ she said. ‘We can have a nice gossip about things when you’re feeling better. All this was a shock for you, you being away and not knowing how poorly she’d been.’

  ‘Yes, all right, I’ll come if I can,’ I promised, wanting her to leave. I was afraid she was going to talk about Billy and I didn’t know what to say to her. I had allowed Billy to think I might marry him when he came home, and somehow I had to find a way to let him down gently.

  Tom managed to get time off for the funeral. He stood with me throughout, reassuring me and helping me to face it without more tears.

  ‘I would rather you didn’t tell Bridget that we’re more or less engaged just yet,’ I told him when he came to the house to see how I was the evening before the funeral. ‘This isn’t the time, Tom. I’ll be back at the hospital soon, and we’ll tell everyone when it’s official.’

  ‘If that’s what you want, Kathy.’ Tom looked at me anxiously. ‘I was worried when you went off like that without a word. Why didn’t you let me know?’

  ‘But I left a letter for you with Ally. Didn’t she give it to you?’

  ‘No.’ His eyes flickered with anger. ‘I asked her where you were and she told me you had gone home but not why – and she certainly didn’t give me a letter.’

  ‘She must have forgotten it.’

  ‘On purpose. I was very worried until I got your telegram telling me about your gran.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Tom. I thought Ally would give you the note I left. I can’t understand why she didn’t.’

  ‘Eleanor said she was jealous of you, and I think she was right.’

  ‘Ally doesn’t quite trust you. She thinks you are playing with my affections and will let me down.’

  ‘You don’t think that, do you?’

  ‘Of course I don’t. I know you love me, Tom – and I love you.’

  ‘That’s all right then,’ he said but I could see he was a little put out. ‘I would have liked to tell Bridget. She’s very fond of you, Kathy. She will be thrilled when I tell her we are going to be married. She has been wanting me to settle down and have a family for ages.’

  ‘We’ll tell her soon,’ I promised and reached up to kiss him. ‘But let’s keep it to ourselves for the moment – just in case.’

  ‘Are you frightened of your father?’ Tom looked at me oddly. ‘Bridget told me he was drunk most of the time these days.’

  ‘I haven’t seen much of him. We had one confrontation but since then he’s been avoiding me as much as possible. I’ve put his tea on the table at the right time each evening, and he eats it and then goes out to the pub. I lock my bedroom door every night, just in case, but he hasn’t tried to come near me.’

  Tom frowned as I finished, clearly uneasy about the situation. ‘I don’t like the idea of you stopping here alone, Kathy.’

  ‘I’m not going to stay long. Don’t worry, Tom. I shall leave soon after the funeral.’

  ‘You could always stay with Bridget if you wanted a few days off before you go back to work. She would be glad to have you.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I’ll think about it and decide tomorrow.’

  After Tom left that evening I went to bed and locked my door as always. It was very late when I heard a crashing sound downstairs and then the tread of heavy feet up the stairs. I lay still and tense as I heard the footsteps stop outside my door, and then the handle was rattled making me jump with fright.

  ‘Let me in, damn yer! I want to talk to yer about the future. I hope yer know your duty to me, Kathy. I hope you’re not going to go running off and leave me. I need someone to cook my tea and see to things ’ere. You owe me that after all I’ve done for yer. You’ve got to take ’er place now she’s gone.’

  I kept quiet and didn’t answer him, hoping that he would just give up and go away. If he hadn’t told me that I wasn’t his child I might have done what he wanted and stayed home to look after him for a while, but he wasn’t my father. He had done very little for me. It was Gran who had cared for me and fed me – and I suspected that the clothes I’d been given had been mostly provided for me by Bridget. I didn’t owe him anything, and I wasn’t prepared to give up my future for his sake. I was going to marry Tom and then I would probably nev
er see Ernie Cole again.

  It surprised me the next morning to see that he had washed and shaved and appeared presentable in a suit that smelled of mothballs and looked as if it had been packed away in a cupboard for years.

  ‘Don’t stare at me like that,’ he muttered. ‘You didn’t think I’d stay away from me mother’s funeral, did yer?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure,’ I said. ‘You’ve been drunk most of the time I’ve been home.’

  ‘That’s my business, damn you!’

  ‘I wasn’t criticizing. I don’t care what you do.’

  ‘You’re a cold-hearted bitch like your mother.’

  ‘I’m sorry if she hurt you.’

  ‘Spare me your pity. All I want from you is that you do your duty to me like a daughter should.’

  ‘I’m not your daughter. You told me so.’

  He looked startled, then swore and spat into the fireplace. ‘Makes no difference what I said. I’ve been a father to you and I expect you to do your duty by me now your gran’s gone.’

  ‘I have to go back to work. I was only given special leave because Gran was so ill. I have to report back tomorrow.’

  ‘Tell the buggers you’ve got to look after your father.’

  ‘That would be a lie,’ I said. ‘Unless you can tell me who my father was?’

  ‘Mebbe I could if I wanted.’ He looked at me craftily. ‘I was good to yer as a kid, Kathy. Stay ’ere and ’elp me and I’ll give yer money on the table regular.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t if I wanted–’

  I was saved from further argument by a knock at the door. Bridget and Joe had arrived to make sure I was ready and to go through the arrangements with me, and a few minutes later Tom arrived to tell us that the hearse had just turned into the lane.

  Ernie scowled at them but didn’t speak another word, just taking his place behind the hearse as the chief mourner at his mother’s funeral. I followed behind with Tom, then Joe and Bridget joined us, and quite a few of Gran’s neighbours tagged on behind as we walked slowly through the lanes to the church.

  Joe had arranged a meal in the church hall, and since he was well known for his hospitality, there was no doubt that Gran would have a good attendance at the funeral and afterwards.