A Respectable Woman

by Susanna Bavin

  She wriggled. Below the neck, she was one giant ache, but her head was clear and that made her feel better, though the best thing of all was having Ma beside the bed. She was slumped over, deeply asleep. Her mouth was open and she was snoring, which tempted Posy to laugh, only a dark twinge around her ribs warned her not to. If this was what it felt like when your bones were still in one piece, then heaven help you if they ever got broken.

  Ma delivered a gigantic snort and jolted herself awake. Her gaze met Posy’s and she leant forward anxiously.

  ‘How are you today?’

  ‘Fine, thank you, Ma.’ That was what she had been taught to say, but it was true too, in spite of the soreness that made her feel hot and the bruises, each of which had a pulse in the centre, sending out a red-hot vibration with each beat of her heart. ‘Having you here makes me fine; having you looking at me.’

  Ma frowned. ‘You mean, looking after you.’

  ‘No, looking at me.’ Posy suppressed a sigh. It was rather a blow not to be understood. ‘When Dad was punishing me, you never looked. You did the mending or the cooking so you didn’t have to look.’

  ‘Oh, Posy …’

  ‘I’m not stupid. I knew you couldn’t stop him, but I always wanted you to look. Why didn’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘If you’d looked, I’d have felt you were on my side,’ Posy persevered.

  ‘It weren’t a question of sides.’

  ‘Yes, it was. Dad wasn’t fair. He punished me for all kinds that weren’t my fault; and if I did deserve a smack, he still wasn’t fair, because he used Rupert or Gerald or I had to hold my hand over the candle.’

  ‘There was nowt I could do.’

  Oh, here we go. Three cheers for the droopy cowslip. Resignation settled over Posy like another layer of bedding. What was the point? For as long as she could remember, she had wanted Ma to understand, but all Ma could do was bleat a few lame words. Didn’t she realise how much this mattered? Typical ruddy, droopy, flaming cowslip.

  She would have one last go and if it didn’t work, she would give up for ever.

  ‘All those times you didn’t look, it was like – it was like you were letting it happen.’

  Ma’s mouth fell open; there was a hiss of air as she breathed in.

  ‘That was how it felt.’ Posy’s muscles quivered and it was nowt to do with the hammering Dad had given her. It was a wave of anger. ‘You stuck your nose in the darning and pretended nothing was happening; but it did happen and it was right in front of you, only you never looked. And every time you didn’t look, every time you pretended not to see, not to know – it felt like you were letting it happen. If you’d looked at me, if you’d behaved as if you were in the same room – that was all I wanted. I knew you couldn’t stop him, but I wanted you to look like you cared.’

  Ma pressed her hand to her mouth. ‘I always cared …’

  Posy shrugged one shoulder and all the muscles down that side groaned in protest. ‘Not enough to look. Why didn’t you?’

  Ma’s eyes shifted. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Why did you pretend?’

  Ma was silent for a long time.

  ‘I hated what Dad did to you. You’re right: it was never fair. I … I didn’t know what to do. I could never go against him. He was always so clever and I felt … useless. I never managed to do anything right unless your dad told me exactly what to do.’

  ‘Well, you’ll have to start managing now,’ said Posy, ‘if Dad goes to prison.’

  Patsy led the way across the lawn to a shady corner, where a pretty ironwork table and chairs had appeared since Jim’s last visit. Mrs Garbutt stood ready to follow with a tray of iced cordial. Jim took it from her.

  ‘Allow me. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do in the kitchen.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  He carried the tray to the table, with the twins skipping beside him. He balanced the tray on one hand and gave Harriet and Marguerite a glass each. ‘Give that one to Daddy, and that one to Mummy, and say, “Five shillings, please.” If they say no, we’ll run away with the jug and keep it all to ourselves.’

  ‘You’re good with children,’ said Patsy approvingly.

  ‘Patsy.’ Don’s voice was a gentle warning.

  ‘Girls, go and play. I’ll call you over for a drink in a few minutes,’ said Patsy. ‘What am I supposed to say? If I can’t say that, I’ll have to scold him for carrying the tray.’

  ‘You’re a good girl, Patsy,’ said Jim, ‘but you sometimes forget you’ve got a cook-general on her own these days and the maid and the bootboy are long gone.’

  ‘She has a daily char to help her,’ said Patsy and looked miffed when Don and Jim laughed. ‘Never mind me. What about you?’

  ‘What about me?’ asked Jim.

  ‘You know. Yesterday. We were expecting the evening to end with an announcement of your engagement. Why do you think I wore my sapphires?’

  Here goes. ‘Roberta and I won’t be seeing one another any more.’

  ‘What! You’ve dumped her again, haven’t you? Oh, James, how could you?’

  ‘She called it off, actually.’

  ‘Fiddlesticks. No one believed it last time and they won’t believe it this time.’

  ‘What happened?’ asked Don.

  ‘I never meant to lead her up the garden path. I really thought …’ He waved his hand vaguely. That wasn’t what he wanted to say. ‘There’s someone else.’

  Patsy leant across the table. ‘How? There hasn’t been time. Did you meet her in Lancashire while you were doing your legal digging?’

  ‘I met her in April.’

  ‘You dark horse,’ said Don.

  Patsy furrowed her forehead. ‘That makes no sense. If you’ve known her that long, you were definitely stringing Roberta along.’

  ‘To start with, I didn’t know if she liked me, and then it turned out she was unavailable.’

  ‘At which point you succumbed to Roberta’s wiles,’ said Don. ‘Don’t tell me. Then your new lady turned out to be available after all.’

  ‘Has she a name?’ Patsy’s tone was clipped. She wasn’t ready to forgive him.

  ‘Nell Hibbert.’

  ‘Nell?’

  ‘Eleanor.’

  ‘I’ll call her Eleanor,’ said Patsy.

  Don took the glass of cordial from her hand and set it on the table. Then he took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘You’ll call her Nell, my darling Patricia.’

  She pulled a face, but it was easy to see the gallant little kiss had beguiled her. Jim felt a pang of envy. Would he ever have the chance of that kind of closeness with Nell?

  Patsy gasped. ‘Hibbert! That’s the woman on those postcards. Don, James has taken up with someone out of our class.’ The final words emerged on a scandalised breath.

  In for a penny. ‘It’s worse than that.’ He fought to keep his tone light when his whole body was tense with resentment. ‘That bigamy case …’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes. She believed her husband was bigamously married to another woman, but it transpired he was bigamously married to her. And before you say anything else: she’s a decent person through and through. She’s beautiful and clever and kind and she’s worked damned hard to maintain a respectable life for herself and her children.’

  ‘She has children?’

  Don laughed. ‘Well, you keep saying how good he is with them.’

  ‘I meant with ours, and the hope of his own.’

  ‘I hope Alf and Cassie will be mine.’ Jim looked squarely at his brother and sister-in-law. It was time to set some ground rules. ‘I hope you’ll accept them as your nephew and niece.’

  A look passed between Don and Patsy.

  ‘When you talk about … Nell and her children,’ said Patsy, ‘you sound …’

  ‘He sounds,’ said Don, ‘like a man talking about the love of his life. Just like I sound when I talk about you.’ He turned to Jim. ‘It isn’t
easy, crossing the class barrier to get married. I’ve watched you these past few years and I’m relieved and proud to see you’ve emerged from whatever darkness you were in. I know you’re more than capable of facing whatever challenges life brings. As far as Nell is concerned, you have my blessing. Eh, Patsy?’

  She looked thoughtful. Don normally sat back and let her go her own sweet way, but when he spoke up, she listened. Jim could see the cogs turning. She was already working out how to unite the two families.

  ‘Girls,’ Don called. ‘Come and have a drink.’

  The twins scampered over, clean and uncreased. They were in for a shock when they met the ladder-monkey.

  ‘Uncle James, Mummy says if we’re lucky, we might be bridesmaids.’

  ‘If we’re all very lucky indeed,’ said Don, ‘you might be bridesmaids and I might be best man and your mother might be the most beautiful guest at the wedding. But we must all cross our fingers, and our toes, and our eyes, even when we’re asleep.’

  ‘Steady on.’ Jim faked a laugh to hide a sudden onslaught of nerves. ‘I haven’t asked her yet.’

  ‘She’ll say yes, won’t she?’ clamoured the children.

  ‘I hope so, but you’ll have to cross your arms and legs as well.’

  Patsy caught his eye. ‘I hope so too.’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  It was stuffy in the bedroom. Leonie opened the window to its fullest extent. This was the room she would have occupied if she had come to live with her old friend. But, it wouldn’t have been easy lodging next door to the house she had shared so happily with Hedley.

  ‘When can I get up?’ asked Posy.

  ‘You can get up when you can do it without saying “Ooh” and “Ouch” every time you move,’ said Hilda.

  Mrs Watson came in, followed by Lyddie and Josie.

  ‘Look who’s come to see you, Posy.’ To Hilda and Leonie she said, ‘Get off next door, you two. I’ll stop here with this lot and make sure there’s no clog-dancing.’

  The girls giggled. Leonie drew Hilda away and they went next door.

  ‘You’re weary, Hilda. Sit down and I’ll make some tea.’

  ‘We’re both weary. I’ll do it.’

  They made the tea together and sat down. Leonie could see Hilda was building up to saying summat.

  ‘I had no idea Edmund would hurt our Posy that badly. She said something to me earlier.’ She put her cup down.

  ‘Oh aye?’ Leonie prompted.

  ‘I’ve been a bad mother.’

  Leonie caught her breath. ‘Posy said that?’

  ‘No, that’s me talking.’

  ‘Nay, love, you’ve done your best. No one’s perfect.’

  ‘Perfect, imperfect.’ Hilda shrugged. ‘I’ve been … nothing. I’ve been married to Edmund for all but twenty years and I’ve been nothing. I thought my marriage was going to be like yours, but Edmund was so in charge of everything. I tried to do the right thing all the time, but I didn’t always know what it was. I didn’t used to be this way when I was young. I remember being cheerful and knowing what to do, and it’s like thinking of another person. Now, I shrink away from everything.’

  ‘You were such a lively girl, but you changed after you got wed and I’ll be honest, I blamed you for not having more gumption. But these past weeks, I’ve started to see what you lived with. It’s enough to wear anyone down. It would have wore me down an’ all, if I’d had to live with it for a long time.’

  A knock at the door: damn. Just when Hilda had started confiding.

  ‘I’ll go.’ Leonie got up.

  But Hilda was on her feet too. ‘It’s my house. Sorry, Mother. I meant, it’s my responsibility.’

  She answered the door and Leonie heard Jim’s voice. She had to squash the wish to call to him to come in.

  He followed Hilda into the kitchen.

  ‘I went to see Mrs Hibbert about … something else and she told me about Posy. How is she?’

  ‘Black and blue,’ said Hilda, ‘but she’ll get better.’

  ‘She also told me about Mr Tanner’s arrest. She asked me to help you. I’d be happy to ask questions at the police station on your behalf.’

  ‘I’d be grateful,’ said Hilda, ‘but I’m coming with you.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  And off she went. Well! That was more spirit than their Hilda had shown since Leonie couldn’t remember when.

  She went round to Nell’s to see how she was getting on after the kerfuffle of the court case. Mind you, that was probably forgotten in the joy of Alf loving his mum again. But then there was Olive Hibbert to throw into the mix. Olive and Nell had looked yesterday like they might be reconciled, but you never could tell. Mrs Olive Hibbert was on the pushy side and a little of her would go a long way.

  Most of all, Leonie wanted to know what the ‘something else’ was that had taken Jim round there.

  She had her hopes. She felt a flutter in her belly. Oh yes, she had her hopes.

  In Wilton Lane, the children were out playing in a restrained kind of way, this being Sunday. A game of marbles was permitted, or French skipping as long as the chanting was done at low volume, but nothing that involved running about. Some of the mothers and grandmothers were outside, having a chinwag, but Nell’s family was nowhere to be seen. Leonie found them in the backyard, sailing paper boats in the bathtub. Nell was on her knees, her arm around her son, the two of them so obviously restored to their rightful closeness that Leonie welled up. Olive Hibbert sat on a kitchen chair, watching and encouraging. Cassie was intent upon finding things to put in the water.

  ‘You look happy,’ said Leonie as Nell came to her.

  Nell looked at Alf. ‘Thanks to Nanny.’

  Leonie raised her eyebrows.

  ‘No more lies,’ said Nell.

  ‘Afternoon, Mrs Hibbert,’ said Leonie. ‘Lovely day.’

  ‘It is that, and all the better for spending it with the children.’

  ‘Nanny likes playing at boats,’ said Alf.

  ‘If you two want to chat, I’ll stop here,’ said Mrs Hibbert.

  ‘Come and see Violet,’ said Nell.

  Alf looked up. ‘You can’t disturb her if she’s asleep and you mustn’t touch her if she’s washing, because that’s when she does her thinking.’

  ‘I promise,’ said Leonie.

  Upstairs, the bedroom door was shut. Nell opened it and they slipped inside, though there was no danger of Violet springing out. She was curled up fast asleep on the bed.

  ‘So how are things with Mrs Hibbert?’ asked Leonie.

  ‘She and I have learnt a few things about one another in the past twenty-four hours, and then there was the way she spoke to Alf.’ Nell pulled in a breath and let it go. ‘We’ll rub along. She’s going back to Annerby tomorrow. I don’t know what to do with her tonight. She sat up with you watching Posy last night, but she needs a bed tonight.’

  ‘Leave her to me. Hilda wants to get Posy carried home to her own bed today, so Mrs Hibbert can have Mrs Watson’s spare room.’

  Nell laughed. ‘You can’t foist her on Mrs Watson.’

  ‘Do you think Hetty Watson would miss the chance to stay up half the night getting all the gossip? We’ll be doing her a favour. I’ll take Mrs Hibbert back with me now.’

  ‘It’s rather early.’

  ‘Aye, but a little bird tells me you’ll want her out of the way soon.’

  ‘Why? She should get to know the children.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t want her earwigging on you and Jim. What did he want earlier?’

  ‘I told him about Posy and asked if he could help.’

  ‘Thanks for that, but what actually brought him here? He said there was “something else” he came for.’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Well, I have.’

  ‘Please don’t. You couldn’t be more wrong.’

  ‘We’ll never know if you don’t let him speak.’


  ‘There’s nothing to say. He – he has a lady friend. I’ve seen them together. It’s Roberta Fairbrother.’

  ‘Fairbrother? As in …?’

  ‘So if I were interested,’ said Nell, ‘which I’m not, he’s spoken for.’

  She turned away, but not before Leonie had glimpsed the desolation in her eyes.

  ‘Here’s our Hilda now.’ Leonie left Olive Hibbert at Hilda’s kitchen table and went into the hall to meet Hilda. ‘Come in, love. The tea’s brewed. Are you coming in, Jim?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ he answered from the front door.

  ‘Go on through, Hilda. Mrs Hibbert will pour your tea. I need a quick word with Jim.’ A gentle push saw Hilda on her way. Leonie stood in the doorway, eyeing Jim. ‘What’s this I hear about you and Miss Fairbrother?’

  ‘How do you know about that?’

  ‘It’s true, then? You’ve got yourself hitched to someone from the top drawer?’

  ‘No, I—’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it. This is the lie of the land, see. My Nell’s so-called husband treated her summat shocking and she deserved better. The question is: are you better? Because if you’re not, you can sling your hook toot sweet.’

  ‘I—’

  ‘It were Nell what told me about Miss Posh Lady.’

  ‘Oh—’

  ‘Not much good with words today, are you, Mr Lawyer? Tell you what. I’ll walk to the corner with you and then watch which way you go. If you walk past the top of Wilton Lane, that’s fair enough and I’ll wish you well with Miss Top Drawer, even though I’ll think you need your bumps feeling; but if you turn down Wilton Lane, and later my Nell ends up hurt, well, I won’t be responsible for my actions.’ She smiled. ‘Shall we go?’

  They walked up Finney Lane in silence. The poor chap probably didn’t dare say a word. At the corner, she gave him a prod.