Then leaning close, he hissed his parting words directly into her face, so close that flecks of spittle spattered her cheeks. ‘If ye don’t want Bella to start having problems with keeping those good looks of hers, ye’ll do as yer told.’ The stink of tobacco and whiskey from his breath remained with her long after he’d strolled away, hands in pockets, whistling softly.
‘How could you have been so daft as to go out with Billy Quinn?’ Bella was locking the clinic doors when Jinnie burst down the stairs like a tornedo.
She was tired and ready to call it a day. The last thing she wanted right now was an argument with Jinnie. Sighing with resignation, she unlocked the door and the two girls went back inside so that Jinnie could unleash the torrent of rage boiling up in her without entertaining all the customers in the shop below.
‘Who told you I’d been out with Billy Quinn?’
‘He did of course. And took great pleasure in so doing.’
‘You know him well, do you?’
‘That’s rich, that is. Know him well? I’ll say I bleedin’ know him well, and if you’ve any sense you’ll make it your business not to.’
Bella put down her bag and considered her little protégé with interest. Was this an example of jealousy? It looked very like it. ‘I don’t think it’s quite fair for you to come storming in here preaching on who I should see and who I shouldn’t. I’ll not have it. Are you as friendly with Billy Quinn as you are with Len Jackson? Oh, don’t look surprised, I’ve heard about your little dinner time get togethers, though I warrant Edward hasn’t. But then you make a habit of keeping secrets from Edward, don’t you Jinnie?’
‘What d’you mean by that?’ The shocked expression in Jinnie’s face revealed she’d been thrown momentarily off her stride at hearing Bella knew about what she’d thought to be secret meetings.
‘I think you know what I’m referring to. You’ve agreed to marry Edward when you’re eighteen and yet still you haven’t told him that you may not be able to give him children. Don’t you think that’s rather unfair?’
Jinnie had the grace to flush, though whether from anger, embarrassment or guilt wasn’t clear. ‘It weren’t me what fabricated that tale about the runaway horse.’
Bella looked sheepish. ‘No, that was my fault entirely, I admit it. Done from the best of motives. Would you like me to explain it all to him? I don’t mind.’
Jinnie flew across the room, fists clenched as if she were coming out fighting in a round of boxing. ‘Don’t try to twist it all round. I’ve not come here to talk about me. I can sort out me own problems. I’ve come to warn you off Billy Quinn. He’s a dangerous man to take up with.’
Bella could feel her own anger growing. She’d certainly no intention of being dictated to by a young girl who was apparently cheating on her fiancé, Bella’s own brother. ‘Quite frankly, I don’t consider it any of your business who I choose to take up with. Perhaps Mother was right and you really are a trollop with a man for every day of the week.’ It was an unkind remark, unworthy of her, but somehow the fire that Billy Quinn had lit in her that night couldn’t easily be extinguished.
Jinnie regarded Bella for a long moment in stunned silence. ‘So, its gloves off, is it? Right, if it’s fighting talk you want, I’ll give it to you.’ She explained then, in graphic and unstinting detail, how it was that she’d come to know Billy Quinn. She was utterly remorseless in the telling of her tale, leaving Bella white-faced and clinging to the edge of the table by the end of it.
‘I don’t believe a word of this. He wouldn’t do all of that - not - not to a child, and that’s all you were when he met you, no more than a child.’
‘I was twelve. Children grow up fast round here. I certainly did. They start half time at the mill at thirteen ‘cause its summat to be a weaver. Top dogs, they are. Not that you’d understand but slum scum like me don’t get taken on at t’mill. Not a bookie’s girl. Bottom of the heap, that’s where they put me, along with beggars, petty thieves and harlots. Even with the decent start you’ve given me, I’ve still had to fight me way in. They didn’t talk to me fer weeks. Back then, Billy Quinn made sure I was unemployable. That way he kept a better hold on me.’
Bella’s weakened knees had driven her to sink into a chair but still she couldn’t find it in her to equate the picture of the man Jinnie painted, to the one she knew. He’d twice come to her aid, been entirely polite and considerate and used no foul language. He could have done with her what he willed yet he’d behaved like a gentleman and stopped, for all he’d admitted he could hardly keep his hands off her. How could they possibly be one and the same? But then she didn’t want to believe it. It was far too dreadful, too shaming. Her own behaviour in particular. Bella could find no words to express what she felt.
‘He hasn’t - hasn’t done owt serious to thee, has he?’ Jinnie’s anger seemed to run out of steam as, watching these thoughts flit across her friend’s face, she grew suddenly anxious.
Bella managed to shake her head and, sighing with relief, Jinnie put her skinny arms about her and gave her a warm hug. ‘Thank God for that. Well, you weren’t to know what he was like,’ she added magnanimously, smoothing Bella’s coppery tresses back from her hot face. ‘Anyroad, now that you do know, better you don’t see him again. Like I say, once Billy Quinn gets his claws into someone, he never lets go. Believe me. I know what I’m talking about. Stay well clear of him in future, love.’
Bella buried her face into the crook of Jinnie’s shoulder and kept silent, still too numbed by this new information to take it all in, let alone respond.
‘Right?’ Jinnie persisted.
‘Right,’ came the muffled response but even as Bella made the promise, her body betrayed her with a clench of aching muscles, indicating all too clearly, her desperate need of him.
It was one bright Sunday in October that Sally Clarke was delivered of her latest child, a girl. The baby lived for less than a hour before quietly departing with much less fuss than her arrival. Not long afterwards her mother likewise succumbed to the inevitable and followed her.
Every curtain in the street was drawn as a mark of respect. The women who had crossed themselves that it thankfully wasn’t them when they’d heard of Sal ‘getting caught’ again, now stood weeping in a sorry bunch around her door. Aunt Edie brought a dish of hot pot for the bereaved children. Violet marched in and gathered up all the stained sheets and soiled bedding and took them away to be bleached, scrubbed, darned, mended and returned a day or two later in pristine condition. One by one the women trooped in to Sally Clarke’s front parlour which smelled of dust and moth balls from lack of use, overlaid with the scent of hot candle wax, and stood silently by her coffin, softly remarking on how peaceful she looked now all life’s troubles had been taken from her. Every mirror had been draped in black, the paper blinds pulled down, a fan of paper laid neatly in the empty grate.
‘No one to harass you now, lass,’ Mrs Blundell murmured, patting the cold dead hand with a surprisingly gentle touch. ‘God bless.’
Violet proved to be a resounding success. Dr Syd, assisted by Nurse Shaw, worked tirelessly in an attempt to serve the needs of the community but both agreed that they’d never have got through the volume of work in those first months without the assistance of helpers, in particular Bella’s stalwart friend.
Violet Howarth was popular with the other women because she was one of them. She’d patiently sit and listen to a client’s worries and tales of woe, advising, comforting, mopping up tears, even clutching a desperate woman to her ample bosom in her comfortable motherly fashion, and of course making endless pots of tea.
‘Na then, na then. Don’t take on,’ she’d say. ‘We’ll soon put thee right here,’ as if the Mothers’ Clinic had all the answers to life’s ills.
The first question was always, ‘Where did you hear of us?’ and the answer was nearly always the same. ‘At the protest meeting.’ Or ‘We were told in church not to come.’
Sometimes a woman
would already be pregnant and they’d be unable to help. Violet, or Bella, would then urge the client to visit an ante-natal clinic but this was not always easy to accomplish. Many women were refused medical help until after they’d passed the seventh month, so as to avoid any danger of a doctor becoming involved in a miscarriage which might well have been procured. For the same reason ante-natal clinics did not advertise their times of opening.
‘It’s a scandal,’ Bella would cry. ‘How can we get these women the health care they so desperately need if medical assistance is constantly denied them.’
‘We can only tackle one problem at a time,’ Dr Syd would warn, softening her harsh words with a smile. ‘Reforming the medical profession into providing a good health service for women in general, is going to take much longer.’
The death of Sally Clarke, who had paid one visit to the Mothers’ Clinic and still got pregnant was leapt upon by many as proof that Bella’s claims on the safety of the contraception they offered, were false. This was an effort on the part of the religious press to discourage women to come to the clinic for advice. In response Bella sat down and wrote long articles to all the local papers, explaining that the methods only worked if the woman concerned used the appliance properly which many, Sally Clarke included, had not.
Bella welcomed the extra work. Ever since the confrontation with Jinnie she’d been doing her best to avoid Billy Quinn, not even to think about him. Jinnie was right. He was no good for her, for anyone. Even if he hadn’t done any of those things Jinnie had accused him of, it was best if she kept him out of her life, despite the fact that her less disciplined flesh took quite the opposite view.
She also sent off a screed of letters, to ante-natal clinics, doctors and church ministers, to the Prime Minister and even to the Bishop of Manchester. None of the replies were of any use, save for one from an ‘interested doctor’ who declined at this stage to give his name but confessed that he would like his students to be allowed the opportunity to investigate further the work she was doing, if this could be achieved with discretion. After a short and carefully worded correspondence this enlightened doctor did indeed permit his students to attend the clinic on a regular basis. They were smuggled in after dusk, so they were in no danger of being seen by any other member of their profession. They proved to be both enthusiastic and beneficial to the clinic as well as eager to learn.
‘Well done,’ Dr Syd said, grateful for an extra pair of hands.
‘It’s a start,’ Bella agreed and strove ever harder to visit patients more regularly, which wasn’t easy considering her work-load and the fact that the very poor were constantly changing addresses. ‘One day, all women will get the birth-control and ante-natal care they need. As of right.’
Bella was always pleased if she found Dan waiting for her in the shop after a session. This happened less frequently than had once been the case and was largely, she guessed, out of duty or because Violet had sent him, rather than the burgeoning friendship they’d once enjoyed. She deeply regretted their quarrel and, to a degree, its aftermath. She’d once longed for Dan to touch her, to kiss her and hold her close. Now Bella experienced only a deep sense of shame and guilt whenever she was with him. Perhaps she’d offended him by her gentle teasing, pricked that fragile bubble of low self-esteem. Perhaps if she hadn’t met Quinn at that moment of intense vulnerability, it might all have been different. As it was, an awkwardness had sprung up between them and she could find no way to bridge the widening gap. There was no talk now of their ‘walking-out’ or ‘doing a bit of courting.’ Even so, she still felt a lingering fondness towards him, as if whatever there might have been between them was still there, unresolved, unexplored.
She longed to put matters right between them, to recapture those magical moments they’d once enjoyed together, and one evening, as he walked her home from the clinic, she decided to try. ‘That question you asked me - at the fair...’
‘Forget it, I wasn’t thinking straight,’ he told her, hands thrust deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched with eyes cast down rather than seeking to meet her gaze.
‘You aren’t wanting an answer then, to your question?’ Surely, if he truly cared for her, he’d be eager to repeat it. He wouldn’t let a silly quarrel, or the difference in their background stand in the way if he truly loved her, would he?
‘Nay, I reckon I got me answer. I hear you walked home with Billy Quinn instead, despite my telling you to steer well clear of him.’
Bella was astounded, instantly followed by a flash of annoyance that he should imagine he had any say over what she did, or who she spoke to. ‘Have you been spying on me?’
He didn’t deny it. ‘It’s not difficult to know what’s going on round ‘ere. This is a close-knit community. Kick one and they all limp.’
‘For goodness sake, Dan, it was all perfectly innocent. Quinn saw that I was alone and upset after our silly quarrel. He walked me home and there was an end to it.’
He jerked to a halt and turned to face her, his usually gentle expression clouded with sullen anger. ‘That wasn’t the end though, was it? You were seen coming out of the Hare and Hounds with him the very next night.’
How do you know that?’ Bella experienced a chill of discomfort, remembering other occasions when Dan had just happened to be around when there was trouble, or she’d needed company, the riot after the meeting, for instance, and the times he’d visited the clinic. ‘For God’s sake, you haven’t been following me, have you?’
He ignored the question. ‘If it’s a bit of slummin’ yer after with the likes of Billy Quinn, then no wonder you can laugh at my daft proposal. I must have sounded a right sentimental Charlie.’
‘I didn’t laugh at you. I was just teasing, having a bit of fun, and you never gave me a chance to answer, I...’
‘Oh aye, you like a good chuckle at my expense. I know when I’m licked, Isabella Ashton. Don’t worry, I’ll not stand in your way. You can do what you damn well please in future.’
In a strange sort of way it was Bella now who felt rebuffed and rejected, and more hurt than she’d expected. She wanted Dan to fight for her, to say he still wanted her to be his girl, that she belonged to him, not Billy Quinn, and he meant to have her. But he’d given up with scarcely a tussle, before they’d even begun. And all because she’d offended his acute sensitivities. Where was his sense of humour? Where was this love he’d professed to feel? Perhaps he was too wrapped up in his own sense of inadequacy to really care for her at all. Quinn’s supreme sense of confidence, arrogance even, that he could have anything he wanted in life, seemed in sharp contrast to the huge chip Dan seemed determined to carry on his shoulders, at whatever cost to their future.
They walked home in aggrieved silence that evening, as they did on many another following; neither able to breach the chasm that now yawned between them. Bella certainly had no intention of ever mentioning the subject again.
Chapter Fourteen
Violet came to her one Thursday evening and whispered that there was a gentleman wanting to see her. ‘He’s waiting outside. Aunt Edie wouldn’t let him in.’
Bella felt her heart thump. If it wasn’t Dan, and Violet wouldn’t have referred to her own son in such a manner, then who could it be? Despite her efforts to avoid him, she’d caught a glimpse of Quinn once or twice, lounging about the streets. Surely he hadn’t followed her to the clinic? Should she confront him, tell him to leave her alone once and for all. She felt a stir of that betraying excitement. Could she trust herself to do that? ‘Thanks Violet. Will you take over for me here.’
‘Aye, ’course. Hello Maggie. Thee looks like thee’s lost a shilling and found an ha’penny. Don’t look so glum. We’re blessed miracle workers here.’
‘I hope you are. I could do with a flamin’ miracle.’
The rest of this conversation was lost as Bella hurried away. She ran down the stairs, her mind a confusion of emotion. Did she want Quinn to be there or not? She was quite out of breath by the
time she flew out on to the street, though not simply from rushing.
‘Good evening, Miss Ashton.’
It wasn’t Quinn at all. It was Dr Lisle, looking even more smug and self-satisfied than usual. Her concern turned at once to the student working upstairs. The young man’s career could be ruined before it had begun if Dr Lisle became aware of his presence.
‘What can I do for you, Doctor?’
‘I thought it was perhaps time I inspected this clinic of yours.’
‘Inspected?’
‘Perhaps visit would be a more appropriate word.’
‘Perhaps it would.’ Gathering her wits, Bella held out a hand as if inviting him to walk a little way with her, summoning all her charm into a brilliant smile. ‘Unfortunately the clinic is desperately busy tonight and I’ve no wish to embarrass the ladies waiting on the stairs. Perhaps another day, when we have more time to answer your questions?’ At any other time she would have been proud to show it off but if he went into the clinic now, he would see more than she’d bargained for. Dr Syd would never forgive her if the young student’s presence were discovered.
The little doctor seemed more than happy to oblige, puffing out his chest in a self-congratulatory fashion as they progressed along the street, his hand taking her elbow with a proprietorial air. ‘I did wish to have a quiet word with you, my dear, to warn you that opposition to your clinic is growing. Sending out those letters calling for an improvement in ante-natal care was unwise. It smacks of criticism of your betters.’
‘My betters?’
‘The medical profession as a whole. You are no more than an amateur, after all.’ He smiled condescendingly at her.
‘Dr Syd isn’t an amateur.’
‘True, but she’s a woman. Medicine is not really a suitable career for a woman.’
‘I beg your pardon? She has been to university, to medical school and qualified as a doctor exactly as a man would.’
The Favourite Child Page 17