‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘He has.’
‘And Roland’s a good bloke. He’d be kind to you. He’d look after you.’
‘I know, but I don’t love him, Dad.’
‘I can’t help you on that one, Poll. You’ll have to make up your own mind.’
‘And what about here? Violet’s not exactly . . .’ She bit her lip, not wanting to tell tales on her sister, yet the girl was showing signs of restlessness already, even though it was only a year since her baby had been born.
‘What about Violet?’ William snapped. ‘She’ll have to toe the line. She’s brought enough trouble on this house already. Besides, you’ll not be far away. Roland only lives in the next street – just round the corner.’
Polly opened her mouth to argue that she might be at work, but Roland had already said she wouldn’t need to be. She’d have plenty of time in the day to keep an eye on Violet and the rest of the family.
Then she shook herself. Whatever was she doing? Already, she was planning her life as Roland’s wife when she hadn’t even decided to marry him. But his offer was tempting. The man she loved was lost to her; she had to face that. So could she really hope to meet someone else whom she would love like she’d loved Leo? Still loved, if she was honest.
Roland was a good man, a kind man, honest, reliable, hardworking and there was no doubting that he loved her. But was it enough? Wouldn’t it always be second best? And was she being fair to him? Not really, but then he was still willing to marry her, knowing full well that she did not love him in the way that he loved her.
For two days Polly pondered his proposal and by the Monday morning when she presented herself at the gates of the factory to start work, she still hadn’t come to a decision.
‘Mester Spicer ain’t here today.’ Harry Barnes, whom she remembered vaguely from the time she had worked there before, greeted her. ‘His mam died on Saturday.’
‘Oh! Er . . .’
‘But he left a message with me that you were coming and told me where to set you on.’
Harry Barnes, an older man than Roland, had been one of those who hadn’t liked Roland’s promotion all those years before. He was a quiet man who rarely smiled, with rounded shoulders and a sallow complexion. ‘You’d better come wi’ me.’ He beckoned her with a grimy finger and turned away. Briefly, he explained what she had to do and then left her to get on with it.
Polly looked about her helplessly. It had been so long since she’d worked here that she’d almost forgotten what to do.
‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t our little Polly come back to slum it with the rest of us.’ But Nelly Rawdon was smiling as she said it. ‘It’s good to see you, Poll. How’ve you been?’ She moved closer and lowered her voice. ‘I was sorry to hear about your troubles. You’ll likely get a bit of ribbing, but tek no notice. Now, d’you need me to show you what to do?’
‘Oh, please, Nelly. It’s been so long.’
But by midday when the workers stopped for their dinner, with the smell of the glue factory permeating her nostrils and clinging to her hair and her clothes, Polly felt as if she’d never been away.
Forty-Three
‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there this morning, but there was so much to do to arrange me mother’s funeral.’ Roland was at their door almost as soon as she arrived home that evening. ‘I couldn’t do it before today with her dying on a Saturday.’
‘Of course not. Come in, Roland. I’ll make a cup of tea. Have you had anything to eat today?’ She glanced at his pale, stricken face and guessed the answer before he said hesitantly, ‘Well, no, not really. There’s been so much to do.’
‘Then you must stay and eat with us. It’s stew tonight – that’s if Violet hasn’t burnt it to a cinder.’
On the previous Saturday evening, Eddie had tipped a few extra shillings into her lap. ‘Just don’t ask how I got it,’ he’d muttered and had left the room before she could even open her mouth. And though she’d no intention of refusing the welcome windfall, she’d looked down at the coins lying in her apron as if they were thirty pieces of silver.
Polly led Roland towards the hearth. ‘Dad’ll be in soon. Now you sit there and drink your tea. You must have had a dreadful day.’
‘Well, there’s one thing that everyone keeps saying to me and I suppose it’s true. She’s at peace now and she’d been ill for such a long time, I’ll have to look on it as a blessing I suppose.’
‘Yes,’ Polly said gently. ‘But it’s not easy, is it?’ They exchanged an understanding glance before Polly hurried away lest he should read more into her sincere sympathy and start asking her if she’d made up her mind yet about his proposal.
In the scullery there was no sign of Violet or of any meal being prepared. All the vegetables for the stew she’d asked her sister to prepare for the family’s evening meal were still sitting on the draining board. With a sigh, Polly set to work.
‘Where on earth have you been?’
Violet came home as they were just about to eat, pushing the pram. Michael was screaming with hunger.
‘Buying him a birthday present. He’s one tomorrow, in case you’d forgotten.’
‘Of course, I hadn’t. Poor little chap,’ Polly murmured picking him up and cuddling him. But it was sustenance the child needed, not cuddles. ‘Look sharp, Violet, he’s ravenous. Roland’s here, so take him upstairs to feed him. I’ll bring you anything you need.’
Violet smiled archly at her. ‘Who? Roland? Now, who’d’ve thought you’d be offering me your fancy man?’
‘Keep your voice down, Violet,’ Polly hissed. ‘And don’t be so crude and unfeeling. The poor man’s been organizing his mother’s funeral today.’
Violet had the grace to look ashamed – but only for a brief moment. She plucked Michael from Polly’s arms and headed for the stairs. As she passed through the kitchen, she nodded at Roland, murmured his name in greeting and went upstairs.
‘Am I in the way?’ Roland asked with troubled eyes.
‘Of course not.’
Roland followed Polly into the scullery as she prepared the meal. ‘Polly, have you had time to think? I mean, I know maybe this isn’t the time, but—’
She was saved from having to answer his question by the door rattling and Eddie coming in with a cheery, ‘Hello.’
Within minutes, William arrived home too. Whilst Roland couldn’t hide his disappointment, Polly felt relieved.
‘You go and sit with Dad and Eddie while I get the tea on the table and call the young ones in.’
Stevie had passed his twelfth birthday in April and had left school at the end of the summer term. He was now working for Mr Wilmott full-time, but he still liked to play in the street with his mates.
But tonight it seemed the games had gone wrong.
When they came in together, Miriam was in tears. ‘Stevie lost my marbles. He said he could beat Joey Fowler, but he couldn’t, an’ he’s lost them. They was all I had.’ Fresh tears rolled down her grimy cheeks.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ Stevie was red in the face. ‘I’m sorry, Miriam. I reckon Joey cheated, ’cos I’m the best in our street at marbles. I’ve always been able to beat him before.’
‘Come and sit on your dad’s knee, love.’ William held out his arms. ‘Don’t cry.’ Above her head, he met Roland’s eyes with a wry glance. ‘All I’m good for these days. Drying the little one’s tears.’
Roland smiled pensively. ‘At least you’ve got little ones to comfort, William. I know you’ve had your troubles,’ he went on softly, ‘but in many ways you’re a lucky man. You’ve a lovely family.’
William was thoughtful for a moment, watching Polly bustling between kitchen and scullery, Eddie taking off his working boots after his day’s work, Stevie leaning against his chair and Miriam, nestling against his chest sucking her thumb. And at that moment, Violet carried his first grandchild into the room and settled him in the battered high chair that had served all William’s children and was now
still in use for the next generation.
William smiled. ‘I suppose I am. As the Good Book says, I suppose I ought to count my blessings.’ His smile widened as he met Roland’s gaze and said, ‘But I understand you want to take one of my “blessings” away from me?’
‘Oh, Mr Longden, I wouldn’t want you to think that. I’d never stop Polly helping out her family whenever she was needed.’
‘I know that, lad, I know that.’ William lowered his voice. ‘Has she said owt yet?’
Roland shook his head and sighed. ‘I know it must be difficult for her.’ The two men exchanged an understanding glance. They both knew that there was just one thorn in Roland’s happiness.
Leo Halliday.
They sat around the table; Roland seemed one of the family already. The talk was subdued; they were all acutely aware of his recent loss. As Polly stood up to clear away the dishes, there was a loud rapping at the front door.
Eddie stood up suddenly and pushed back his chair. He grabbed his boots from the hearth, his coat from the peg behind the door and fled to the back door. ‘Eddie?’ Polly began, but her brother was gone.
William said nothing, but frowned as his gaze followed his hastily departing son and, without knowing quite why, Polly was suddenly fearful. ‘I’d better see who it is,’ she murmured as she went to open the front door reluctantly.
‘You!’ A startled gasp escaped her lips. He was the last person she’d expected to see.
‘Don’t think I wanted to come,’ Leo said through gritted teeth, ‘but I’ve my duty to do.’
‘Oh yes. Your duty. You and your blasted duty. What is it this time?’
‘Eddie.’
Polly’s heart began to hammer as she stuttered, ‘E-Eddie?’
‘Is he in?’
‘Yes – I mean, no.’
‘Polly, you can’t go on protecting your family. Eddie’s in trouble and this time he’ll have to face it.’
‘What d’you mean “this time”?’
Leo sighed. ‘Poll, Eddie’s always in trouble. I’ve turned a blind eye – and I shouldn’t have done really – once or twice, but this time it’s more serious. And my sergeant’s involved, so there’s nothing I can do.’
Polly’s lip curled as she said sarcastically, ‘Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to put your job or your fine reputation as an upholder of the law on the line. Not for a member of my family.’
She couldn’t miss seeing the hurt in his eyes. ‘Oh, Poll, don’t be like that. If – if I thought you’d forgive and forget, I’d resign from the police force tomorrow.’ There was a brief flicker of hope that died instantly when Polly answered, ‘Never. Never in a million years, Leo Halliday.’
She pulled the door open wider with an angry jerk. ‘You’d better come in and do your worst.’
She led the way through the front room and into the back kitchen, her mouth tight. As they entered, everyone looked up.
‘What’s he doing here?’ William demanded harshly. Miriam slipped from his knee and reached out her hand towards Stevie. Silently the two youngsters tiptoed away up the stairs to hide in their bedrooms. Young though they still were, they could sense trouble brewing.
Leo set his helmet on the table and sat down without being invited. He pulled his notebook from his pocket. ‘I’m investigating the receiving of stolen goods by one of the market traders. And Eddie seems to be caught up in it. I need to talk to him. Where is he?’
Roland stood up. ‘I’d best be going, Polly. This is obviously a private family matter.’
Polly put her hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. ‘No, stay. You’re part of this family now.’
He stared at her for a moment and then caught her hands. ‘You mean it?’
‘Yes – yes, I do. I’ll marry you, Roland.’
But the surge of triumphant revenge she’d expected to feel as she caught sight of the bleak look on Leo’s face never came. Instead, she felt hollow inside and soiled as if she had betrayed herself.
But it was done and could not be undone. She’d given her promise and everyone in the room had witnessed the exchange and understood its meaning.
William gave a nod and turned back to Leo. ‘Are you calling my son a thief?’
Leo pulled his attention back to the matter with a huge effort. But his voice was hoarse and trembled a little as he said, ‘No, Mr Longden, but I think he can help us with our enquiries. Where is he?’
‘Out,’ William said shortly. ‘I don’t know where and I wouldn’t tell you if I did.’
Leo sighed, stood up. Putting away his notebook, he picked up his helmet. He glanced around at them all, his eyes coming to rest on Polly. ‘When you see him, will you ask him to come to the station?’ Ominously, he added, ‘If he knows what’s good for him. If I have to come looking for him again . . .’ He left the threat hanging in the air.
As Polly showed him out of the front door again, Leo paused and looked down at her. ‘Don’t do it, Polly. Please, don’t.’
‘What I do with my life is no concern of yours. Not now.’
She pushed him out of the door and slammed it behind him. Only then, did she lean against it and allow her tears to fall. ‘What have I done?’ she whispered to the empty room. ‘What have I done?’
How could she have been so cruel to the man she still loved, despite everything that had happened? She’d wanted to lash out, to hurt Leo by accepting Roland’s proposal in front of him. She’d wanted to see him suffer and she had. But now she was going to bear the consequences of that rash moment for the rest of her life.
A few moments later, scrubbing away any trace of tears, holding her head high and plastering a smile on her face, she returned to the kitchen.
William looked up at her as she came in.
‘“Lucky” you called me, Roland?’ His face was grim as he muttered again, ‘“Lucky”, am I?’
Forty-Four
Polly’s marriage to Roland took place very quietly in their local church just before Christmas on Miriam’s eighth birthday. Roland now had no family, and only William and the rest of the Longden family were at the wedding. But not Eddie.
Eddie had not come home again since the night that Leo had come looking for him and he’d fled the house. Polly anguished for days until a hastily scribbled note arrived.
Don’t worry about me, Poll. I’ll be fine. I’ll write when I can.
Her anxiety lessened but only a little; she still worried constantly about him but tried to put it to the back of her mind. She had a wedding to plan, though there wasn’t a lot to do. She couldn’t afford a proper wedding dress, though Roland gave her money to buy a new Sunday best dress that would be suitable for her wedding but she could wear afterwards too.
‘Mother didn’t like unnecessary expense and I’m sure you agree. You’re a very sensible girl, Polly.’
Polly had nodded, but a tiny corner of her heart longed for someone to press money into her hand and say, ‘Go out and buy the prettiest wedding dress you can find.’
But no, her wedding finery had to be useful.
The church service was brief; Polly scarcely felt married. And then they all went to the George and Dragon, where the landlord had generously provided a few sandwiches for the special day of two of his regular customers. Without William and Roland, and others like them, he would barely scratch a living.
The time Polly had been dreading came all too quickly, the moment when Roland took her home to the rented house that was now in his name. For the first time since Roland had begun his gentle courtship, they were completely alone.
Polly’s wedding night was nothing like she had dreamt it would be; she was not in the arms of the man she loved. She was fond of Roland – how could she not be, he had been so kind to her and her family? – but this was nothing like her girlish dreams of ecstasy had been. Roland was nervous and trembling. He was so obviously totally inexperienced. It was over quickly with Roland weeping against her neck and saying over and over, ‘I’m sorry, I’m
sorry.’
Polly held him close and stroked his hair. But the darkness hid her own tears of loss and desolation.
‘Roland, would you mind if my family came here for Christmas?’
‘Of course not. It’d be wonderful. We can give them a Christmas to remember.’ He put his arms around her. ‘You’ve not had it easy, Polly, and I want to take care of you and if looking after your family too is part of it, then that’s fine with me.’
Impulsively, Polly stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He really was such a good, kind man. Perhaps he didn’t agree with splashing out on a fancy wedding dress, but he was generous in other ways. ‘Thank you, Roland.’
Polly had taken her marriage vows very seriously; she would cherish him and care for him and she would try very hard, every day, to love him as he deserved. But the sort of love she felt for Leo did not come to order.
Despite Eddie’s absence, it was a merry Christmas for the Longdens and the Spicers. With more money to spend on Christmas fare, Polly produced a feast fit for royalty and Stevie pronounced that he felt ‘FRUTB’.
‘Whatever’s that mean?’ Miriam asked, clutching the new rag doll that Polly had made her.
‘Full right up to busting,’ Stevie declared, patting his stomach. ‘I ain’t never felt so full in me life.’
He grinned, happy that he’d been able to make a contribution to the meal. On Christmas Eve he’d arrived at Polly’s new home laden with a basket of vegetables and fruit and a small Christmas tree.
‘Don’t look so worried, Poll,’ he’d reassured her as he struggled into the house. ‘It’s all paid for. Well, some of it, but Mr Wilmott really has given me some decent bits today.’ He tipped the contents of the basket onto the table and stood back proudly. ‘Will that help, Poll?’
‘Oh, Stevie, it’s wonderful. And a little tree.’
‘There’s no decorations.’
‘Never mind. I’ll scatter some cotton wool over it. It’ll look like it’s snow-covered and if I can find some bits of coloured paper, I could make paper chains.’
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