A Respectable Woman

by Susanna Bavin

  A wild knocking on the front door brought her to her feet.

  ‘Stay here,’ she told Alf. ‘Hang onto Cassie.’

  She hurried down the hallway as another burst of knocking sounded. She threw open the door – and stepped forward instinctively to support Mrs Brent as she almost fell into the house.

  ‘Oh, Nell, oh, Nell. I can’t bear it any longer. Can I come and live with you?’

  Chapter Eighteen

  ‘I’m so sorry. This is my fault.’ Leonie sat at Nell’s kitchen table, supping tea and trying not to splutter as she fought to stem the tears. She knew now that she had been holding them in since the Tanners moved into her house; tears of worry and exhaustion and – yes, go on, admit it – fear. Edmund, her own son-in-law, had moved into her house and pushed her around. That was the truth. She had hidden from it for as long as she could; but even she, stupid old baggage that she was, couldn’t pretend any longer.

  On top of everything else, she had descended on Nell’s home and caused chaos. Her sobbing had scared the children; then, when Nell told them they wouldn’t be going out because they had to take care of Mrs Brent, that had set Alf off crying because he wanted to find Violet; and the sight of the two of them blubbing had proved irresistible to Cassie, who had also turned on the waterworks. Nell had mopped up her children and done the only thing she could to get some peace and quiet. She put them outside in the street to play with the other kids, asking Sally Hawkins to keep an eye on them.

  ‘What’s happened to get you in such a state?’ asked Nell, sinking into the chair beside Leonie. ‘You said summat about living here?’

  ‘Aye. I can’t stop there no more.’

  ‘Why? Have you had a burst pipe or summat? You can stay here as long as you like, you know that.’

  ‘I don’t mean just to stay. I mean, live here … if you’ll have me.’

  She buried her nose in the hanky Nell had provided because her own was already saturated. She honked a few times and dragged her ragged breathing under control. She felt weak and shivery and her eyes were raw, but all that was nowt compared to the ache in her chest where her heart was trying to hold itself together and not crack straight down the middle.

  ‘I’m sorry I asked you to move out. I should never have done it. We’d have managed. Look how well you’ve done since.’

  Nell shrugged. ‘You wanted your family round you.’

  ‘But what did they want? Not me, that’s for certain, just my house.’

  ‘No, surely—’

  ‘Posy loves me, I know that; and I suppose Hilda does.’

  ‘Of course she does.’

  ‘How am I supposed to tell? She does as she’s told by Edmund, and when she isn’t doing that, she’s busy keeping her eyes down, pretending all’s right with the world. Well, it isn’t.’ A surge of indignation made her sit up straight. ‘Edmund locked me out; and before you say owt, no, it weren’t an accident. He knew I was there. He knew when I went into the backyard to feed Violet.’

  ‘Violet? She’s come back?’ Nell half-rose as if to rush off and collect her.

  ‘Nay, she scarpered again.’ Was Nell about to abandon her in favour of the cat?

  ‘We’ll search for her later,’ said Nell. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Edmund locked the back door and went out; and because he’d left the back gate locked an’ all, I were stuck in’t yard. You may well look shocked. I were pretty ruddy shocked myself. Anyroad, your window cleaner chap came round next door and he saw me.’

  ‘Jim Franks.’ Nell looked pleased, then rather cool. ‘Yes, I can imagine him helping.’

  ‘He went round the front, but Edmund had locked up and taken the key with him, so Jim took his ladder round the front—’

  ‘It’s Jim now, is it?’

  ‘It most certainly is, after what he did for me today. Anyroad, Edmund came home while Jim were up the ladder. There were an almighty row, according to our Posy. Edmund came through and unlocked the back door. He says he had no idea I was home, but I know he did.’

  ‘Why would he lock you out?’

  ‘He wants rid of me. He’s done things to make me unhappy.’

  ‘Didn’t you stop him?’

  ‘You make it sound like it’s my fault.’ Doubt assailed her. Was it? ‘All I wanted was a happy home, so I gave way at every turn. Only it didn’t feel like giving way … not until afterwards, when it were too late. I agreed to all kinds. Like when my things were moved upstairs. It seemed only fair to make room for their things, but now there’s barely anything of mine left in’t parlour.’

  ‘That’s not right,’ Nell said quietly, ‘not in your own house.’

  But it wasn’t her house any more, was it? It was Edmund’s name on the rent book. But she had never admitted that to Nell.

  There was a knock at the front door. Hilda? Come to see if she was all right? That would make up for a lot. She followed Nell down the hall. The door opened, not on Hilda, but on Jim, with Cassie sitting upright and alert on one arm and Alf on his shoulders, legs dangling down his chest.

  Jim smiled at Nell, touching his cap. ‘Is this your lost property?’ He handed Cassie over and lifted Alf down. ‘I was oiling Mrs Watson’s back gate and I found these two in the entry. Alf said they were looking for the cat.’

  Nell sucked in a breath. ‘Alf, you know not to wander off. I’ll swing for that Sally Hawkins.’

  ‘No harm done,’ said Jim. He touched Alf’s sandy hair. ‘Always tell your mum where you’re going in future.’ He stuck out his hand. ‘Shake on it?’ Instead of taking the hand the small boy eagerly offered, he said, ‘Shaking hands means we have a contract; and you must never break a contract.’

  The sight of the little boy and the man solemnly shaking hands warmed Leonie in spite of how shaken she was, or possibly because of it. Jim Franks was a good man, and if he wasn’t married with children, then he jolly well ought to be. He was born to be a dad, this one.

  ‘We’ve got a pot of tea on the go,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you come in?’

  ‘I’m sure Mr Franks has things to do,’ said Nell, turning to glare at her privately.

  ‘Nonsense. He’s been good enough to bring your children home; and I never got the chance to thank him for what he did for me.’ Her throat tightened as the emotion came rushing back. ‘My granddaughter tells me you got the door slammed in your face for your trouble.’

  He shrugged. ‘You’re fine; that’s what matters.’

  ‘Come in,’ said Nell. She sounded warmer now, more her usual self.

  Leonie returned to her seat as Alf said, ‘We tried to find Violet, but she wasn’t there.’

  ‘I’m vexed with you, young man,’ said Nell, ‘but just now the grown-ups need to have a conversation.’

  ‘I happen to have about my person …’ Jim delved in his pocket. ‘Here we are: a couple of marbles. These are not for putting in mouths. They are especially not for putting up noses. If you promise not to do anything disgusting with them, you may play with them on the floor.’

  With the children happily occupied, the adults sat round the table.

  ‘I trust you’re none the worse for your experience, Mrs Brent,’ said Jim. He had a lovely way with words.

  ‘I’m very much the worse, as it happens. I’m here to ask Nell – Mrs Hibbert – the biggest favour I’ve ever asked anyone.’

  ‘Should you …?’ said Nell.

  ‘Wash my dirty linen in public?’

  ‘If you ladies have something private to discuss …’ Jim started to get up.

  ‘Sit down, lad. If I come to live here, the world and his wife will know soon enough.’

  ‘Of course you can come here, if you need to,’ said Nell. ‘But – that’s your house. I know they’re your family, but if things have gone badly wrong, you must ask them to look for another place.’

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ said Jim, ‘but if someone is making life hard for you in your house …’

  They thought
it was that simple. Tell Edmund to sling his hook. End of problem. A knot formed in Leonie’s belly.

  ‘I can’t. Even if I could, I wouldn’t do it to Hilda and Posy. But I can’t. It in’t my name on the rent book any more. It’s Edmund’s.’ The knot tightened. She looked at Nell, afraid of seeing scorn, but the compassion and disbelief she saw was worse. ‘I never told you because I knew you wouldn’t like it; and you’d have been right. Please don’t say I told you so.’

  And Nell, bless her, kissed her cheek. Leaving her face close to Leonie’s, she whispered, ‘The only thing I’m going to say is, how soon can you move in?’

  ‘Mother, don’t do this. It was an accident.’

  ‘Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.’ But Leonie only muttered it; she didn’t say it out loud. She didn’t want to make things worse. Worse? As if anything could make it worse. Widowed mothers were meant to live with their daughters, and here she was, about to up sticks and move in with her old lodger. She bustled about her bedroom – nay, not her bedroom. Her bedroom was the front room, hers and Hedley’s. This was Hilda’s old room and after Hilda married, it became the lodger’s room. Say what you liked about families budging up and making room for one another, but there was something shaming about ending your days in your old lodger’s room.

  ‘I’ve got Posy downstairs in floods of tears,’ said Hilda.

  Leonie stopped in the middle of folding her Sunday best blouse. Poor Posy, poor little love. If anything could make her stay, it was Posy. But Edmund had come here, determined to get rid of her – she saw that now – and he had succeeded. Not even for her precious Posy could she stop another night under this roof.

  ‘I’ll explain to Posy.’ Her voice shook, betraying her.

  ‘You won’t say that Edmund—’

  ‘What d’you take me for? I’m not out to cause trouble. You know me better than that.’

  ‘Aye, I’m sorry.’

  ‘So you should be.’ Dropping the blouse on the bed, she grasped Hilda’s hands. ‘Eh, love, don’t let’s you and me fall out.’

  ‘You don’t have to leave,’ said Hilda. ‘Locking you out was an accident. Edmund’s apologised.’

  She returned to her packing. Oh aye, Edmund’s apology. Her blood boiled. Edmund’s apology, in that smooth, rich voice; the voice that used to make her feel safe and cared for. It wasn’t the warm tone of kindness. It was the sound of complacency, because he had succeeded. Did Hilda really not know? Was she that stupid?

  Leonie’s throat was fastened so tight, she had to move her jaw from side to side before she could speak. ‘It’s best I go.’

  ‘You’re being stubborn. This is your home. We want you here.’

  ‘You might, and Posy does, but Edmund wants me gone.’

  Hilda looked away, colour flooding her face. She practically dived through the door. Her footsteps sounded on the stairs; then her voice saying, ‘Posy – no – leave Gran alone,’ followed by a rapid patter of steps, and Posy burst in; but instead of throwing herself into Leonie’s ready arms, she halted, eyes huge and brimming, face white.

  ‘You’re going. You’re leaving. Please don’t. I want you here.’

  Leonie put her arms round her, but for the first time in her life, Posy didn’t mould herself to fit snugly against her grandmother’s body. She stood, stiff and miserable, not responding. Leonie felt a swell of pain. Had she lost her beloved granddaughter? She didn’t let go. With a hand cupping the back of Posy’s head, she spoke into the child’s ear.

  ‘I’m only going to Wilton Lane. You can come and see me whenever you like and I can come here.’

  Posy pushed free. She swallowed hard, but the light of battle was in her eye. ‘Why are you going?’

  She must protect Posy from the truth at all costs. ‘To help Mrs Hibbert with the children. It’s difficult for her, going out to work. You’ve got Ma here all the time.’ Should she back down, ask Edmund and Hilda if she could stay?

  But she couldn’t stay. Not with Edmund. He had won.

  Pushing the suitcase across the bed, she sat down. She patted the space beside her, but Posy stayed put.

  ‘I can’t live here, Posy. I … I miss Gramps too much.’

  ‘It’s Dad, isn’t it? You want to get away from Dad.’

  Surprise skittered over her skin. So much for protecting the child.

  ‘I knew if we came here, something would happen,’ said Posy. ‘I knew he’d … oh well.’

  ‘Me and your dad—’

  ‘I could come with you.’

  ‘Sweetheart, you wouldn’t be allowed.’

  ‘I know that. But you could stay here with me.’

  Posy was the one thing in the whole world that could make her stay. Posy needed her, wanted her. How could she leave?

  How could she stay?

  ‘I have to go,’ she whispered.

  Posy nodded. ‘I know.’

  And that was worse than if she had burst out sobbing.

  Jim parked his barrow, unloaded the tea chests and knocked on the door. Curious stares came his way from a group of women chatting in the street; he gave them a polite smile and turned to the door as it opened. A woman stood there. She had a faded look about her, as if she was past her best. Could this be the mother of sparky little Posy?

  He touched his cap. ‘Mrs Tanner? I’ve brought boxes for Mrs Brent.’

  She leant out to look up and down the road. Catching sight of the neighbours, she drew back. ‘She asked for boxes? Does everybody know?’

  ‘You’d have to ask Mrs Brent that, but I don’t think so.’ What sort of woman was she to let things reach such a pitch that her own mother felt impelled to move out? ‘Should I take them upstairs?’

  ‘Hilda, who’s at the door?’

  Jim’s spine stiffened. The parlour door opened and Tanner appeared.

  ‘You again,’ said Tanner.

  His eyes flared, then narrowed. He covered the few steps to the door and stood in the doorway, his wife slinking into the background. Tanner threw back his shoulders as if squaring up for a fight. He was a big bloke. Not tall but thickkset.

  ‘Clear off,’ he said. The words were uttered with a sneer. ‘You’ve done enough damage for one day.’

  Jim kept his voice mild. ‘Firstly, I have done no damage. I did only what Mrs Brent asked me to do. Secondly, I will indeed clear off, and with pleasure, once I have delivered these boxes to her. Is she upstairs?’

  ‘You won’t set foot in my house.’

  ‘Suits me. I’ll pile the boxes here, shall I?’

  Tanner looked him up and down. ‘Aye, you do that, then I’ll carry them up. My mother-in-law knows that I only want what she wants.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Jim loaded the words with disbelief.

  Tanner smiled, his vexation wiped away. ‘I made a mistake today and I have apologised several times. Even so, my mother-in-law has decided to live elsewhere, regardless of the pain this causes her daughter and grandchild. It is my belief that the best thing I can do is allow her to go, so that calm can be restored to my house … though it will be a sad sort of calm.’

  Clever bastard. Jim had to hand it to him. He had covered his back and no mistake.

  ‘So, if you’ll unload the boxes, you can …’ He leant forward as if to confide. His voice dropped, the words for Jim’s ears alone. ‘… bugger off and mind your own damn business in future.’

  Jim took a step backwards, disgusted with the fellow. Tanner had had the last word. For now.

  He unloaded the tea chests and Tanner carried them in and shut the door. How was Mrs Brent faring inside? Jim didn’t mind taking a few verbal knocks himself, but was Tanner leaving her alone?

  Carrot-Top appeared by his side. ‘Mrs Watson went in to see Mrs Brent and she says she’s packing to leave. Are you moving her? Where’s she going?’

  ‘Wilton Lane. A hop and a skip away. If Posy’s upset, you can remind her of that to cheer her up.’

  ‘Aye. She might be upset. Sh
e loves her gran.’

  Jim waited what seemed a reasonable time, then knocked. No one came, but he wouldn’t give Tanner the satisfaction of knocking a second time. He folded his arms, leant one shoulder against the wall, crossed one ankle over the other with the toe of his boot on the ground, and started whistling ‘Lily of Laguna’. He had got as far as ‘I know she likes me, I know she likes me, because she said so,’ for the second time before the door opened.

  ‘I didn’t hear you knock,’ said Mrs Tanner, not meeting his eyes.

  ‘Is Mrs Brent ready? Shall I carry her boxes down or would Mr Tanner prefer to do it?’

  ‘He said to go up. It’s the back bedroom.’

  Mrs Brent looked exhausted, poor old girl. He wanted to hug her, but all he could do was carry her possessions outside. He stood the first tea chest on the pavement and called Carrot-Top over.

  ‘Sixpence says you’ll guard Mrs Brent’s boxes and not let anyone look inside.’

  He flipped a tanner at the lad and returned upstairs for the next box.

  ‘Is there any furniture to go?’ he asked when the boxes were outside.

  ‘The hanging cupboard and the chest of drawers. Nell hasn’t got much in the way of bedroom furniture, so we can make use of these. But the bed is staying put. I’m not leaving Posy without a bed. I’ve told Edmund that when he buys her one, I’ll have mine taken to Wilton Lane.’

  ‘You look shattered,’ he said gently.

  ‘I am, and not just in my body. I can’t believe this is happening.’

  ‘Are you sure you want to leave?’

  ‘Want to? Want to?’ She was clinging to her self-control by a thread. ‘Just get my things and go.’

  ‘I’ll need help with the furniture.’

  He ran downstairs. The parlour door was closed. He knocked, opening it at the same time. He felt like barging in and grabbing Tanner by the throat, but he wouldn’t let Tanner accuse him of not having knocked.