Another Man's Child

by Anne Bennett

  My dear, darling Celia,

  I’m heartsick to leave you this way, my darling girl, but you seem set with the Lewishams and if you stay there, will have a guarantee of food to eat and a roof over your head and a wage, while I at present can offer you none of those things. I need to establish myself in some sort of job and find somewhere to live as well, so please bide there with patience, believing that we will be together very soon and then the future will be ours to savour. Never doubt my love for you. I am leaving you because I love you and I will be in touch again as soon as I am financially secure so that I can care for you properly.

  Your ever loving Andy

  The words danced before Celia’s eyes but burned into her soul for she knew that this was the letter she should have received months before, the letter that Andy had left for her that for some reason she had been prevented from seeing.

  ‘Promise you will never hate me,’ Annabel had begged and now Celia understood why. But even now she didn’t hate Annabel – she understood her desperation and all she felt was a deep and profound sadness for herself and also for Andy. She wondered if Henry had been party to this deception and whether he knew where Andy was now so she could find him and explain about the missing letter.

  And yet she didn’t move, she sat with the letter still in her shaking hands, unshed tears burning behind her eyes while thoughts tumbled about her head. She had no idea how long she had sat there before Henry knocked discreetly on the door. ‘Celia, are you all right?’

  Celia heaved herself to her feet and staggered to the door and opened it. Henry didn’t notice the letter at first, he was more concerned with Celia’s bleached face and her hurt eyes which seemed to stand out in her head. ‘Celia, my dear. What ails you?’

  ‘You had better read this,’ Celia said, handing Henry the letter. ‘Unless of course you already have knowledge of it.’

  Henry took the letter from Celia’s trembling fingers and she watched his eyes go wide as he read and knew that it was the first time he had set eyes on it and she felt glad about that. She would have hated to feel that he had been party to that deception.

  He raised his eyes and said, ‘What can I say? Andy is obviously a lover, not a brother, and when he left here he left behind a letter which you never received?’

  Celia nodded. ‘That’s about it.’ And then she went on, ‘Before Annabel died she asked me more than once if I could ever hate her. Of course I always assured her that I could not ever envisage a time when I would hate her.’

  ‘And do you hate her now?’

  ‘Not hate exactly, more … Oh I don’t know. I believed that she thought a lot of me and I did a great deal for her and gave up a lot, my faith for instance, and yet she saw me distraught over Andy’s disappearance. I thought he had left me high and dry and without a word. I would never let someone I cared about go through so much pain and despair if I could ease things for them and Annabel knew what was in the letter because it had already been opened when I got it.’

  Henry shook his head, distressed that his sister could knowingly hurt this girl they owed so much to. ‘I can only apologise on my sister’s behalf,’ he said. ‘And assure you I knew nothing about any of this and the first time I saw it was when you handed it to me.’

  ‘I saw that in your face,’ Celia said. ‘And I am so glad that you weren’t involved, but I am not sure what to do now.’

  ‘Well we must find him and explain certainly,’ Henry said and then suddenly flushed guiltily as he remembered rebuffing Andy when he came asking for the job he had offered him initially.

  Celia though had seen the flush and said, ‘What?’

  Henry was ashamed though and scared of admitting what he had done to Celia and so he said, ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘Yes it is. What else am I not being told?’

  ‘All right,’ Henry said. ‘And I feel bad enough about this already. Andy came to see me a few weeks after he left. He looked in pretty poor shape actually and he asked me if he could take up the job I had offered him originally and I refused him.’

  Celia stared at the man she thought she knew and said, ‘I don’t believe you. You know what the unemployment is like. Andy wouldn’t have come to you unless he was desperate.’

  ‘I know,’ Henry said. ‘But at the time I thought he was your brother and he had abandoned you. I didn’t know whether you’d want to see him.’

  ‘Shouldn’t I have been given the choice?’ Celia said testily. ‘And is that the whole reason you refused him?’

  ‘Well there was also the subterfuge we had engaged,’ Henry said. ‘You know, you changing names with Annabel and agreeing not to go to Mass. I didn’t know if your brother, as I thought he was then, would agree to that.’

  ‘So you refused Andy employment to potentially protect your sister’s name?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose.’

  ‘There is no suppose here,’ Celia said. ‘That is what you did. All this has been about you, your family and your sister’s name. Your name was more important than holding out your hand to help a man who you’d once offered to employ.’

  ‘I know,’ Henry said. ‘I’m sorry. That’s all I can say now but if ever I am able to make amends to Andy I will do so.’ Celia had made him face uncomfortable truths and he remembered guiltily the satisfaction he had felt telling Andy he had no job for him. He had seen the desperation on his face and he was bitterly ashamed of his behaviour.

  ‘All right,’ said Celia. ‘I may hold you to that, but for now we must away to your parents, for Grace’s future relies on it.’ And so saying, Celia put on a coat in grey Melton cloth with a fur collar and a trim of fur around the edge, with a matching fur hat and fur-backed mittens.

  ‘You look as pretty as a picture,’ Henry said. She blushed at the compliment, making her look more attractive than ever, but she knew she looked well for she hardly recognised herself when she saw her reflection in the mirror.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Henry asked and Celia gave a brief nod. And with another blanket wrapped around the baby, they set off.

  EIGHTEEN

  Eileen had said the previous evening she always went to the children’s Mass at nine o’clock. Norah was not in a position to argue about anything and she just nodded her head and the following morning she woke from a lovely long sleep in the very comfortable bed. She felt well rested and full of confidence for the task of finding Andy McCadden. She wasn’t sure how many boatpeople inhabited the canal, but she couldn’t see it could be so many that they wouldn’t know one another.

  There was no rush for the presbytery was only a step away from the church and she washed herself first in the cold water in the ewer Eileen had placed on the chest of drawers the night before. The coldness of the water set her teeth chattering a bit but she felt better to be a little cleaner and was soon dressed in her best dress, though she thought the effect was spoilt rather by the shawl and big boots. But when she followed Eileen into the church later she was to find that she wasn’t the only one dressed like that.

  The church was impressive inside as might be imagined for it was a cathedral. Celia hadn’t seen its splendour the evening before as she had only gone as far as the porch so she looked about her with interest and the first thing she noticed were the white marble pillars supporting the beautiful arched roof and the decorative screen dividing the choir stalls from the nave and an even more elaborate one to the side of a small altar that Eileen whispered was the Lady Chapel or the Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament. Eileen knelt down, put her hands together and was soon deep in prayer and though Norah knelt beside her she was too excited to pray. The statues were some of the finest she’d ever seen, she thought, especially the one of Jesus on the cross above the altar, and the altar itself was stunning and suddenly lit with a myriad colours from the winter sun shafting through the stained glass windows either side of the altar.

  Then the organ began to play and people got to their feet; the Mass had begun. Normally Norah liked the Mass – the Lati
n singing and responses always soothed her – but that morning she couldn’t wait for it to be over. However, Eileen was a very influential woman, having the ear of the priest and all, and many wanted a word with her. In the end, sensing Norah’s impatience and the reason for it, Eileen told her to go home and put the kettle on the range for the porridge.

  Norah would have forgone the breakfast, anxious to be on her way, but Eileen wouldn’t hear of it. Later Norah was glad of the warm porridge as she stood at the tram stop that bitterly cold morning. She had told Eileen her aunt lived in Aston and she’d advised her to take the tram.

  ‘Go down Whittall Street, turn right at the end into Steel House Lane, and a line of tram stops are there and any tram will take you to Aston.’

  ‘Steel House Lane is a funny name for a road.’

  ‘Not when it houses a police station,’ Eileen said. ‘You’ll see it from the tram stops. Now you know where you’re going. You won’t be on the tram long, but the conductor will tell you where to get off. If you were more familiar with the city Aston is close enough to walk from here.’

  Norah, standing at the stop, watching a rattling, clattering monster approaching, wished she could walk. She had passed many trams on Colmore Row the previous evening and was very nervous of them and the thought of actually travelling in one filled her with alarm and so she boarded with great trepidation. She asked the conductor straight away if the tram went to Rocky Lane and he assured her it did and that he would tell her when it was time to get off. Despite this her nerves didn’t improve much when the tram set off either, for it clanked and swayed in such an alarming way she was sure it would come flying off the rails at any moment.

  However, no one else seemed to be the slightest bit worried and so she tried to still her pounding heart. It was only minutes later the conductor was telling her it was time to get off and she stood on the pavement opposite the green clock. There were lots of shops too on both sides of the road, all shut because it was Sunday, and she walked along until she came to Rocky Lane as the conductor had told her to.

  Rocky Lane was only a shortish road on an incline packed with small factories and warehouse units but closed and quiet because it was Sunday and Norah carried on down it. Then suddenly the canal was in front of her, filled with barges of all shapes and sizes, all painted beautifully with elephants and castles, she noted, and she stood and stared. For she had never seen anything like it before and had never dreamt that the barges would look so pretty. There were a lot of them too and she wondered which one Billy worked on and how she could find out, for most of the barges looked closed off. And she could hardly climb aboard one uninvited and knock on the hatch and she stood undecided about what to do, annoyed with herself for having come all this way to be scuppered at the first post.

  Then suddenly the hatch opened and a woman climbed out with a bucket in her hand and looked with curiosity at Norah and so she said, ‘Excuse me. I’m looking for a man called Andy McCadden.’

  ‘He’s further down,’ the woman said and shouted, ‘Someone here for McCadden’ and this call was taken up by others as Norah began walking along the tow-path.

  About the sixth boat down, Andy popped his head up through the hatch and cried, ‘What’s all the bloody row about?’ Then he saw Norah standing on the towpath looking a little lost and he vaulted from the boat and was in front of her in seconds and grasping her shoulders he held her gaze. ‘Almighty Christ, Norah, what are you doing here?’

  Norah shook his hands off and said angrily, ‘What d’you think I’m doing? I’m looking for you and hoping you can tell me what you’ve done with my sister.’

  ‘Me?’ Andy said bitterly. ‘I’ve done nothing with your precious sister. Every bloody thing she has done to herself. Threw me over for a bloody toff she did and having his baby as well.’

  Norah felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach by a mule and yet she said, ‘She wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘But she has done exactly that,’ Andy maintained. ‘I was looked down on because I was a hireling man and yet I never touched your sister and you know what I mean by that. I had too much respect for her but she opened her legs for that bloody toff and he took her down and now she is expecting his baby. You think he’ll care for her and look after her? They don’t marry our sort and she’ll be tossed aside when he has finished with her. And she needn’t come crying to me because I don’t take up with another man’s leavings.’

  Norah’s head was reeling. She knew whatever had happened, her sister had inflicted deep hurt on the man beside her now. ‘How did she get involved with this man that you say is a toff anyway?’

  ‘Oh that came about because of meeting his sister, Miss Annabel, on the boat coming over,’ Andy said and described what had happened and how Celia came to be working at her brother, Henry’s, house now.

  ‘And he’s the toff.’

  ‘That’s him,’ Andy said grimly. ‘And one thing I will say in the toff’s favour was that he seemed very fond of his sister and she had taken to Celia and while that situation between them continued she would be well looked after while I looked for work. I explained all that in a letter I left when I slipped away the next morning before she woke. I asked her to be patient, assured her of my love and said I would be back for her as soon as I could,’ and here he glanced at Norah.

  ‘We both knew that we couldn’t marry until Celia was twenty-one, but I wanted to be in a position to look after her before that. I feel a right bloody fool now, I can tell you. Anyway, I always thought that while I had a pair of hands, a willing heart and was prepared to do anything I would get a job with no trouble. I had taken no account of the massive slump the country was experiencing after the Great War, which was made worse by the returning and returned servicemen. Added to this, Irishmen were not welcome because many people believe we were too friendly with the Hun.

  ‘In the end, with my money exhausted and no sign or sniff of a job, in desperation I sought out Henry bloody Lewisham and apologised for running out on him and asked if the job was still available. He said, no, the position had been filled – and he said it with a smirk, you know?’

  ‘It might have been filled though,’ Norah said.

  ‘Norah, there wasn’t a real job,’ Andy said. ‘It was made up by Henry on the spur of the moment so that Celia would stay as lady’s maid to his sister. No, the reason he didn’t employ me a few weeks later was because he was having it away with Celia and knew I wouldn’t stand for it.’

  Norah was still shaking her head. ‘If all you say is true then Celia is much changed from the young girl who came here some months ago.’

  ‘It is true,’ Andy said. ‘But I suppose you won’t believe it till you see it with your own eyes. I will take you to the house. I suppose that’s what you want anyway – to see her?’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Norah said. ‘I want to make sure she’s all right.’

  ‘Oh, you’ll see just how well off she is in a little while, but I can’t just take off like that. Come and meet Billy and we’ll tell him where we’re bound for.’

  ‘Will he mind?’ Norah asked as they walked back towards the boat.

  ‘Why should he mind?’ Andy said, surprised. ‘I’m not married to him. He usually goes to see Stan on Sunday afternoon anyway. He was the one recommended Dunlop’s to give us the contract, ferrying the workers up and down the canal. Billy is very fond of him and poor Stan is nearing the end. Anyway, come and see what you think of the space we live in.’

  Norah was enchanted when she went onto the boat and she was amazed at how space was utilised and when Norah asked Billy if he had always lived on the canal he told her of his life and his brothers being killed in the war and his parents dying just afterwards.

  ‘That is so sad,’ Norah said.

  ‘Well I ain’t the only one lost loved ones in that bloody war, beg your pardon, miss,’ Billy said. ‘But it was a bad time for me and the boaties helped me a lot at first. I knew I couldn’t rely on them for eve
r though and I had to either work or starve. It was a godsend meeting Andy.’

  ‘Yeah, I came down first looking for work,’ Andy said. ‘But I was drawn to the place. They’re outsiders too in a way.’

  ‘Yeah, many of the townies look down on us,’ Billy said. ‘But people wouldn’t be able to have lots of things in the shops, heavy machinery for the factories and coal to warm their houses if it wasn’t for the canal folk. Not that I was getting much of that sort of work on my own and I wasn’t making enough for Andy to work permanently and live on the boat, which was warmer and softer than the streets, until we picked up the contract from Dunlop’s. Now we’ve sort of proved ourselves we pick up loads of work after we’ve delivered the workers off.’

  ‘Did you really live on the streets?’ Norah asked Andy.

  Andy nodded. ‘I couldn’t afford even the cheapest lodging and I couldn’t have borne Celia to have suffered like that and though it hurt like hell to be without her I thought she was best left where she was.’

  Norah did see and she knew Andy had been badly hurt and yet she said, ‘How do you feel about her now, Andy?’

  ‘How d’you think I feel?’ Andy almost snarled. ‘What would you have me do? Hang around till Lewisham has finished with her and take her back as if she had done nothing wrong and spend my life bringing up another man’s child?’ Andy shook his head and went on. ‘Sorry, Norah, I’m not made that way. I wish things were different and with hindsight that we hadn’t come here. But we have come and so we have to now deal with things as they are. I don’t know what’s going to happen to Celia in the end and I will try not to care though I do hope she survives to make something of her life.’