Enjoying the endearment she waited.
‘It’s just…’ Trying to find the words, he thought a moment before he went on, ‘Dad came to see me today and said he’d asked your mother to go out with him.’ Seeing the surprise on his wife’s face, he continued, ‘She refused him and in his tenacious way he questioned me as to why that was… in the end I said it was all to do with John Sligo.’
‘Oh Spencer!’ Violet gasped, her hands covering her mouth as she felt the blood drain from her face.
Rushing to her, he grasped her hands, saying, ‘Violet… I didn’t tell him I swear! I said if Kath wanted him to know, she would tell him herself.’
Violet released her held breath and began to relax a little, knowing her mother would keep her secret, taking it with her to the grave.
Spencer said, ‘My concern is that he might get it out of Joyce Clews; after all she did tell me after I was so relentless in my questioning.’
Again fear gripped Violet and she felt faint as she said, ‘Oh my God, Spencer! I must go over to mother’s house and warn them! I must go now!’
Rushing from the room, Spencer sent for the carriage as Violet snatched up her shawl.
The carriage was brought round by the stable boy and they set off at a pace.
Stepping into her mother’s kitchen with Spencer behind her, Violet saw her sitting by the fire, Joyce taking the seat at the other side of the fireplace.
‘Well now you two, this is a nice surprise,’ Kath said as they sat at the table.
Joyce got the tea on and joined them. Kath brought out the cake and said, ‘How’s business Spencer?’
‘Mum,’ Violet said before he could answer, ‘Joshua’s been fishing again!’
‘Oh bloody hell!’ Kath retorted as she banged the knife down on a plate. ‘What now? Sorry Spencer, but your father is getting to be a damned nuisance!’
Spencer, looking a little dejected, related the conversation with his father as they all listened carefully. ‘My worry,’ Spencer finished, ‘is he’ll try to get more information out of you, Joyce.’
Joyce shook her head, dropping her eyes to her teacup.
‘Right,’ Kath began, ‘we all know what John Sligo did to Violet…’ Casting a glance at her daughter she gave a grim smile, ‘And we all know what happened to him.’
‘He drowned in the canal while he was drunk, I believe,’ Spencer added.
‘He did,’ Kath said. ‘However, his disgusting behaviour with my daughter has been held in secret these last years, and it must remain so!’
Violet looked at Joyce and saw the fear in her eyes.
‘So,’ Kath went on, ‘if Joshua starts his… I was wondering with you, Joyce, you deny all knowledge of anything and everything. If he asks you about me, you tell him to ask me; if he asks about Violet, you tell him to ask me also; you know nothing about anything… understand?’
Joyce nodded, ‘Ar Kath, I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’.’
‘Good. Now, let’s have some more tea.’
*
Violet fretted for days about Joshua’s probing, knowing how tenacious he could be. She knew for certain he would question Joyce about her mother and herself. At least Spencer had proved he would not divulge her terrible secret, even to his own father. For that she was very grateful.
Sitting together in the parlour, Spencer yawned then said, ‘I’m heading for bed, sweetheart.’
Violet replied as she stood, ‘Me too.’ Holding hands, they walked upstairs together and he kissed her gently at her bedroom door. As every night since their marriage, he turned towards his own room, whispering, ‘Goodnight, my love.’
‘Spencer…’ she called after him quietly, ‘won’t you stay with me tonight?’ Her voice quivered and she blushed. She was very nervous at the prospect but it was tinged with excitement.
Rushing to her, he held her close. ‘Oh my love,’ he said, ‘are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?’
Nodding, she led him into her bedroom and closed the door.
Spencer was the perfect gentleman, turning his back while she undressed. No man had ever seen her naked, not even John Sligo. Climbing beneath the bedclothes, Violet watched as her husband undressed, shyly admiring his body as he stood before her. Coming to the bed, he asked again, ‘Violet, are you sure this is what you want?’ At her nod, he climbed in beside her.
His arm around her shoulder, her head on his chest, they lay together for a long time before Spencer moved to kiss her softly. With curtains drawn back and only the moon to light them, he whispered, ‘I will be gentle, I promise, and if at any time you wish me to stop, just tell me and I will stop.’
Putting her lips to his told him of Violet’s acceptance of both his words and his actions.
*
Another meeting of the ‘Wives’ took place the following Sunday.
As they sat again around Kath’s kitchen table, tea and cake served, she related to the others about Joshua asking questions.
Joyce took up, ‘Ar, he had me in the office the other day and he started. What did I know about Kath? I said he should ask Kath. What did I know about Violet? I said he should again ask Kath. Well…’ Drawing out the word as everyone listened eagerly, enjoying the drama, Joyce went on, ‘He was quite amused and he said he’d heard I liked gossip. Me! Liked gossip!’
Everyone howled at Joyce’s expression of incredulity.
‘So, anyway,’ she went on after the laughter died down, ‘I said to him, “Look here, Mr Gittins, Kath helped me out of a tight spot a while back and she took me in off the street. As for Violet, she is my friend and that’s all I know.” So in a huff he tells me to get back to work, and that was the end of that!’
Slapping her hands on the table, she leaned back in her chair denoting the end of her contribution to the meeting. Everyone congratulated her on her dealings with Violet’s father-in-law.
Mary turned to Violet and asked, ‘He’s not likely to make life difficult for you, wench, is he?’
Shaking her head, Violet said, ‘Oh no, Spencer would have something to say if he did.’
All eyes turned to her and she felt the rush of blood to her face as a crimson blush caused her to lower her eyes.
‘Well now…’ Mary began, obviously detecting the change in the girl’s demeanour.
‘Mary!’ Martha warned, giving her a frown. ‘That’s none of your business!’
Smiling her thanks to Martha, it dawned on Violet just how wily these women were.
*
Primrose Berry had already begun her business of selling pies and cakes on a stall in the marketplace and had made a small contribution to the money Kath was holding, when the purpose for it was explained to her. She considered it wise to have money in abeyance should anything happen to any of the Wives. She promised more as business picked up. Kath had also put in some of her own money and the Wednesbury Wives fund was safely in Lloyds Banking Co. in Lower High Street in an account under Kath’s name.
Violet walked to Primrose’s stall on Monday morning to buy a pie big enough for Spencer and herself and she was pleased to see a queue had formed despite the nasty weather.
Suddenly the whole market went quiet as they watched a man dressed in ragged clothing walk past carrying a tiny coffin, the rest of the family walking slowly behind supporting a sobbing woman. Women crossed themselves and men held their caps at their chests as the cortege walked slowly through the market and up Church Street to St. Bartholomew’s.
Eventually the mutterings of the market struck up again, and turning to Primrose, Violet said, ‘No one should have to bury their own child, it’s against the laws of nature.’
‘Sickness took the child, I believe. That’s the Carter family. Jean, the mother, gave birth a few weeks ago. They’ve got six kids – well, five now the baby’s died. Joe Carter is out of work; they had no money for the doctor.’
Violet’s hand flew to her mouth in horror. No money for the doctor! Paying for her pie, Violet hurried back to tell her mot
her the sad tale of the Carter family.
‘It was so sad, Mum,’ she said as she held a cup of hot tea in both hands. ‘You should have seen it – Jean Carter was being held up by her other children. She could barely walk by herself. They were all dressed in rags. Joe Carter cried, Mum! In full view of the town… he cried as he carried the tiny coffin!’
‘Don’t upset yourself, Violet. I don’t like it any more than you, but it happens, wench. There aren’t many hereabouts have the money to pay for a doctor.’
‘We have to do something, Mum!’ Violet bawled. ‘Anything!’
‘What do you suggest?’ Kath asked. She was not unfeeling on this, but she was a realist.
Looking down, Violet muttered, ‘I don’t know… yet!’
*
In bed that evening, Violet told Spencer about the small funeral cortege walking to the churchyard.
‘I don’t see what can be done about it,’ he said after a while, ‘but let me think on it a while.’
Spencer hugged his wife in their large feather bed, one they continued to share after that night she’d asked him to stay with her. Snuggling close to him, she whispered, ‘What if that had been our child Spencer?’
Squeezing her body close to his, he said, ‘Let me think on it, Violet, I feel sure something can be done. Now, sleep my sweet Violet, and leave this to me.’
She knew if she couldn’t do something for that family herself, she could at least persuade Spencer to. Speaking quietly she said, ‘Spencer… can’t you find Joe Carter some work? What about putting him to work on the old cottage by the canal? Doesn’t that belong to you? I remember you saying you’d bought it with the money left over from your inheritance. You did say it needs renovating… maybe he could do that for you. Please Spencer…’
Rolling his body towards hers, he kissed the tip of her nose and whispered back, ‘That’s a very good idea, Violet! I’ll get on to it first thing tomorrow.’
Twenty-Six
Spencer had promised Violet he would think on the matter of the Carter family, and he did, but he knew the problem was spread further than one family. There were many people in Wednesbury who could not afford the doctor’s fee, small though it might be. But he could at least help matters a little by getting Joe into work as Violet had suggested so now was as good a time as any.
Whistling across the factory, Jack Hesp, the foreman at Joshua’s works, who had now taken over as Spencer’s foreman, came running into the office, ‘You whistled, gaffer?’ he asked, catching his breath.
‘Yes, thanks Jack. Tell me, do you know Joe Carter?’
‘Ar,’ he said, ‘poor bugger… begging your pardon…’ Waving his hand showed Spencer took no offence at his language, and Jack went on, ‘He’s just buried their youngest child.’
‘So I believe,’ Spencer said. ‘He’s not working, is that right?’
‘Ar, been out of work for a while now,’ the foreman shook his head, sorrow showing in his eyes.
‘What was his work?’
‘A miner, but the coal dust got in his lungs, and he can’t dig the coal any more,’ Jack said, shuffling his feet.
‘Do you know where he lives?’
‘Oh ar, the family lives in Wednesbury over by Bull Lane near Moorcroft Old Colliery…’ Jack drew in a breath before continuing, ‘on some waste ground under a tarpaulin.’
‘What!’
‘Ar,’ he said, lowering his eyes with distaste, ‘the pit chucked them out of their cottage when Joe finished working there, and with no money they couldn’t find anywhere else to live.’
‘How do they survive?’ Spencer was appalled.
‘Joe scavenges at the market. He walks the heath and traps rabbits and the like,’ Jack answered a little sadly.
The shock of his words stabbed Spencer to the core. He had no idea people lived like that – lived – they didn’t live, they merely existed. There was no way he could impart this discovery to Violet, it would be too distressing for her.
‘Jack,’ he said, cocking a finger so the man leaned in close to the desk, ‘I want you to do me a favour if you would.’
‘Ar anything, gaffer, you know that,’ the foreman said feeling a little baffled.
‘Right,’ Spencer went on, ‘get yourself over to Joe Carter and ask him to come to see me, get him to come back with you.’
‘Yes sir!’ Jack doffed his cap and was out of the office before Spencer could thank him.
*
A couple of hours later, Joe Carter stood before Spencer in the office, his cap in his hand. Standing six feet, he had the look of a man tired of living. A head of dark hair already threaded through with grey hung over hunched shoulders, his eyes were lacklustre.
‘I’m sorry to hear of your loss, Joe,’ Spencer said, watching him carefully.
‘Thank you kindly, sir,’ he said as he shuffled his feet, unable to meet the other man’s eyes.
‘Joe, I have a favour to ask of you.’
‘Sir?’ he queried, at last looking up.
‘Joe, take a seat.’
The man looked at Jack Hesp, who nodded, then glancing around the office, he dragged a chair forward and dusting the seat of his pants with his hands, he sat down.
‘Joe, I have an old property over in Queen Place, just off Queen Street, do you know it?’ The man nodded and Spencer continued, ‘It needs a lot of work doing on it and I was wondering if you might be interested in doing that work for me, on a wage of course.’
‘Yes indeed sir!’ Joe brightened visibly.
‘Good, well Jack here…’ Spencer pointed to the foreman who was standing by the office door watching the proceedings, ‘Jack will tell you what needs doing, is that all right with you, Jack?’
The foreman grinned, his nod affirming his co-operation.
‘Oh and Joe, you can move your family in there this afternoon. I know it’s a mess, but I’d be a sight happier with the place being lived in while the work’s being done.’
Joe shot across to his new boss and grasping his hand he pumped it up and down until Spencer thought it would fall off, then Joe said, ‘I can’t thank you enough, Mr Gittins sir, really, and the missis will be thrilled when I tell her.’
Jack Hesp nodded at his boss with a grin from ear to ear as he left the office with the new employee.
That evening Spencer explained about his meeting with Joe Carter.
Violet wrapped her arms around him, saying, ‘Thank you, sweetheart, I knew you’d be able to help. I’m so pleased and I’m very proud of you.’ She kissed him tenderly as they sat together on the couch.
*
Kath Clancy walked swiftly up to Gittins Manor one very cold evening and was led into the living room by the maid as Violet and Spencer settled by the roaring fire. After the customary cake and tea, she said, ‘Spencer, that was a lovely thing you did the other day, I’m very proud of you.’
Violet looked from her mother to her husband with pride as Kath explained that she’d learned from the market people of Spencer’s good deed regarding Joe Carter and his family.
Violet smiled widely at her husband as he said to her, ‘It was you who gave me the idea if you remember.’
After an enjoyable evening, Kath, despite being offered a ride home in the carriage, elected to walk. The weather was cold but bracing and she felt the walk would do her good. It wasn’t late but darkness had fallen. She smiled when she saw children kicking a ball on the cobbled road and heard their excited shouts. She nodded to the mothers who came to their garden gates to call the children in for bed.
Her mind again focussed on Spencer and his good deed. He was such a good man and doted on Violet. She wondered if it was time he learned the truth about John Sligo. Should she tell him? What would be his reaction? Would he change towards Violet once he knew her mother was a killer? It was this that frightened her the most, that he might hold it against her daughter. Violet could not be held responsible in any way, after all it was Kath’s doing. Would Spencer go to the p
olice with the information?
Reaching home, Kath sat with a freshly made cup of tea to ponder the question again. Should she tell Spencer Gittins she had killed her husband? Yes, it had been an accident, but she was the one who had caused it.
She had more or less made up her mind to divulge her secret for better or worse. She just hoped that Spencer was the person she thought he was and that her secrets would not ruin her daughter’s marriage.
*
The following day, Violet decided to call on her mother. Kath had been fairly quiet the previous night and Violet was worried something was wrong.
Dressed in a long dark coat, a felt hat sitting on her dark curls, she opened the umbrella as she stepped out into the rain. The cold was intense as she walked along. She heard the steam train’s whistle as she hurried on.
Striding down the streets of tightly packed houses, her nose wrinkled at the smell of rotting rubbish thrown out onto the cobbles. She moved aside at the shout of a carter and as he passed he doffed his cap in thanks. The clopping of the horseshoes echoed loudly before growing fainter as the cart turned a corner.
Arriving in Hobbins Street, Violet walked up the entry collapsing her umbrella and shaking it free of excess rain. Stepping in through the back door, she called out, ‘Mum?’
‘I’m in here,’ Kath replied from the living room where she sat crocheting squares for a blanket. ‘Hello love, my but you look cold. Come and get a warm by the fire.’
‘Shall I put the kettle on?’ Violet asked.
Kath nodded, ‘I just want to get this square finished.’
Sitting together with tea, Violet asked, ‘Is everything all right? I ask because you were so quiet last night.’
Kath set her finished crochet square aside.
‘Come on, Mum, spit it out. What’s riling you?
Kath sighed loudly. ‘I almost told Spencer about Sligo’s death last night.’
‘What!’ Violet was aghast. ‘Why?’
‘He should know about me, Violet, about the family he’s married into.’
‘Mum, I don’t think that’s a very good idea,’ Violet said quietly. ‘I don’t know how he’d take it. I mean, well, he might tell the police or never speak to you again – or me for that matter! Let’s face it, how would you react if you were told something like that?’
The Wives’ Revenge Page 14