The Chainmakers

by Helen Spring

  Even as she said it a cold dread began to gnaw. Delphine, observing Anna's face said quietly, 'So he didn't tell you? I thought as much.' She turned away as if annoyed, but then said in a more conciliatory tone, 'It's unofficial as yet, but Robert and I have been promised for almost two years, we are getting married next Spring.'

  Anna did not answer. She stood, whitefaced, staring at Delphine with a look of undisguised shock. Delphine became concerned.

  'Come and sit down Anna, you are as white as a ghost.' She propelled Anna towards a chair, and Anna sat down mechanically.

  Delphine hovered. 'I did not mean to upset you so, but I had to say something!'

  'Y... yes.' It was a strangled whisper.

  'I mean before it became serious...' Delphine looked into the wide eyes, and read the fear there. 'Anna, you didn't...?' She stared at Anna's pathetic face, and recoiled with a groan of disgust.

  'You little fool!' she exploded, 'How could you be so stupid?' She paced the floor angrily, and her lips set into a thin determined line. 'So Robert's had his sticky fingers in the jam pot has he?' she said, almost to herself. 'Again!' she added, and Anna felt as if she was shrinking, crumbling, dissolving slowly until she was an unimportant scrap, a meaningless and insubstantial wisp, which could not think or feel, could not... could not...

  How Anna reached her room she never knew. It was a combination of shambling steps and wild clutching at the bannister rail, pushed and pulled by Delphine, who, once Anna was safely on the bed, fetched a glass of water. Anna attempted to sip it but was overcome by a wave of nausea.

  After a moment she felt a little better, and attempted to regain some remnants of dignity.

  'I'm sorry,' she said to Delphine. 'I'm alright now.'

  Delphine sat on the edge of the bed. Her voice was quietly determined.

  'Anna, I'm sorry to have given you such a shock, but I ask you to understand this is something of a surprise to me also. I had not realised that...' Her voice tailed off, and Anna took her cue.

  'Oh, there was never anything between Robert and I,' she lied. 'Nothing serious, just a mild flirtation really. It was a shock to find out he is engaged, that's all.'

  Delphine did not believe her, but said quietly, 'Of course. Do you feel better now?'

  'Much better thank you.' The conventions were in place again.

  'Then I have one last thing to say to you. It will be best if you leave as quickly as possible. I am going to invite Robert to accompany us to Cannes for a couple of months.'

  Even now Anna clung to a shred of hope. 'He may not wish to come,' she said. I think he wants to return to England.'

  'He is coming to Cannes,' Delphine said firmly. 'There is no doubt about that. If he doesn't...' She left the rest of the sentence unspoken, but it hung in the air between them.

  Delphine rose. 'Surely you did not think...? You must have known Robert could not marry you?'

  Anna forced a smile, her composure returning fast. 'Of course not, it never entered my mind. I told you, there was nothing serious.'

  Delphine sighed and said, not unkindly, 'Go home, Anna Gibson. Go back to what you know and to those who care for you. It is useless to try to be what you are not. Goodbye.'

  'Goodbye, Miss Braybrook.'

  ~

  Robert found her in the kitchen an hour later, preparing the vegetables for dinner.

  'Oh there you are piglet.' He had the grace to appear slightly shamefaced. 'Delphine tells me you have decided to go home early...'

  'Is it true?'

  Robert looked slightly startled. 'Er... is what true?'

  'You are engaged to be married to Delphine?' His manner gave the answer, but she had to hear it from his lips.

  'Well... unofficially...'

  'For two years?' For some unaccountable reason she wanted to brush the lock of hair back from his eyes.

  'About that I suppose.'

  'Why didn't you tell me?' She must keep her voice steady.

  'Didn't think of it really... it didn't seem to have anything to do with us...' He smiled sheepishly, and Anna realised with sudden clarity that he was speaking the truth.

  'You didn't think I would be hurt?' she asked gently, almost as if she spoke to a child.

  'Why should you be? It isn't as though...' Suddenly a frown crossed his face and he said slowly, 'You didn't think... Anna, you can't have thought we would ever... marry?' His expression showed more clearly than words that the idea was preposterous.

  Anna made no reply, and Robert continued quickly, 'You can't have thought that, I never gave you the slightest reason to think...'

  'Is Delphine rich?' Anna interrupted softly.

  Robert was taken aback. 'That's not a nice suggestion piglet. I have known Delphine for years, her father and mine were business acquaintances.'

  'I see. But she is rich? As wealthy as you?'

  Robert laughed shortly. 'She could buy and sell our family a hundred times over, but that has nothing to do with it.'

  'Of course.' Anna smiled,'I just wanted to know, to get things sorted out in my mind.' She turned away and cut fiercely into a cauliflower, adding lightly, 'I think I'll go on Friday if I can get a ticket.'

  'There's no reason to go early, piglet. We aren't leaving for Cannes for at least a week, stay until then...'

  'No, I must get back.' She put the pieces of cauliflower into a bowl and sprinkled them with salt.

  'Well, if you must. When I get home, about the end of September, I'll get in touch.' He came around the kitchen table and took her hand. 'We mustn't lose each other piglet. There is no need for you to work at chainmaking for the rest of your life.'

  She looked at him, not understanding.

  'What else is there?'

  He smiled his easy smile, he was back in control and there had been no ugly scene. 'Well, I've been giving that some thought,' he said, 'Why don't I buy a little place for you, a house in Dudley perhaps, or a cottage in the country if you prefer it. I'll make you an allowance, not a fortune but more than you will ever earn from the chain, and then we can see each other whenever I can get away.'

  His words were like a physical blow, her degradation was complete. She picked up a basket of peas and began to shell them. Controlling the tremble in her voice she said 'No.'

  'But why not? We could...'

  'No.'

  'But what else can you do? Make chain for the rest of your life? Or marry that gawky Irish workman... if he'll have you now of course.' He stopped. 'I'm sorry piglet, I shouldn't have said that.'

  Anna swallowed. 'No, you shouldn't.' Her trembling hands would not split the peas.

  'It's just that I'm worried for you.' Robert said. 'I want to see that you have a decent life...'

  'Decent? Did you say decent?' she almost spat at him.

  Robert sighed. 'It's a bit late for your Chapel puritanism now. You must face the fact there is nothing for you in Sandley Heath. Your father's a well known drunk...'

  'I have a brother too.'

  'And what can he do? He doesn't earn enough to keep his own family. I'm saying nothing against him but you know yourself he'll never amount to anything. He's a well meaning clod of earth that's all, without enough sense...'

  'How dare you!' Anna's self control fractured. 'How dare you speak of my brother that way?' She was beside herself with anger and her words were torn from her in a frenzied jumble. 'My brother is a man... a real man, a decent, hardworking man with more true worth than... than... a hundred of you or your fancy friends! You, who talk on and on about honesty in art... what about honesty in life...?'

  Her words tailed off as the tears came, running unheeded down her cheeks. Robert attempted to put his arm round her.

  'I didn't mean anything... I'm sure your brother is a fine chap... I just want...'

  'Oh, what's the use?' Anna got up from the table and wiped her eyes. 'Robert, this conversation is over. The answer is 'No' and will always be 'No'. I'll leave on Friday.'

  'If that's what you wa
nt.'

  Anna walked to the door. She said, 'Why did you make love to me Robert? Why did you bring me to France?'

  'You are beautiful, piglet,' he said simply. 'I've always tried to make you see. I appreciate beauty.'

  ~

  On the day Anna left Paris the weather broke, and a fine rain drizzled over the grey stone of the city as she drove to the Gare du Nord. She had bidden a tearful goodbye to Therese, who had presented her with a collar of hand made pillow lace, which she had sat up half the night to finish on time. Anna had promised to write to her at La Maison Blanche, and Therese had been distressed.

  'It is no use to write chérie, I cannot read the English. I can speak, but not read or write it. Even in the French I don't write well.'

  Anna assured her she would not expect a reply. 'All the same,' she promised, 'I shall write to you from time to time. If you have no one to translate, you must wait until Jacques comes, he will do it.'

  'Yes, cherie, that will be good. Or Monsieur Robert.'

  'Yes, or Monsieur Robert,' Anna agreed dully.

  She had not seen Robert since the previous evening, when she had made it plain she would not allow him to accompany her to the station. He had handed her an envelope containing her wages for the previous month, together with what he called a small bonus. Anna had remonstrated, but Robert had insisted, and after a moment she had put the envelope into her purse unopened. In her room later she found he had included an extra ten pounds. Generous though the sum was, she could not help the uneasy feeling that she had been paid off, like some common whore.

  These thoughts intruded again, as the carriage jolted its way to the station. She glanced across at Jacques and Sylvie, who had both insisted on seeing her off.

  'Aren't you going to open it?' Jacques asked.

  'Open what?... Oh, of course...' Still clutched in her hand was a small package Alphonse had given her as she left the house. He had kissed her roundly and said 'Bon journee et bon chance!' several times.

  Sylvie and Jacques watched as she unwrapped the package. It was a box of sweetmeats for the journey, and she smiled and asked Jacques to pass on her thanks.

  At the station Jacques took her luggage and they both escorted her to the train. When Jacques disappeared to find the guard, Sylvie spoke.

  'I 'ave enjoy to know you, Anna. I think you 'ave enjoy too, at La Maison Blanche.'

  'Yes, Sylvie, I have enjoyed. I'll never forget you, all of you.'

  Sylvie put a large folder she was carrying onto the seat next to Anna. 'For you,' she said, in her heavy guttural accent. 'You can per'aps sell one day, if you need money.'

  Anna stared. 'Is it... is it a painting?' She knew Sylvie never parted with a picture, she even hated selling them.

  'Yes, I think you like.'

  'Oh, I will... oh, Sylvie, thank you...'

  At that moment Jacques returned, and the guard blew his whistle.

  Jacques gave Anna a kiss. His bushy beard tickled her face. 'I 'ave arranged for the guard to take care of you,' he said. 'Au 'voir ma petite, bon chance!' He leaned forward and pushed a small packet at Anna as the train began to move. 'A memory from Paris,' he said, waving.

  Anna watched and waved until their figures merged into the distance. She sat down and opened Sylvie's folder. It was the glorious painting of the courtyard at La Maison Blanche, showing herself seated on the terrace, preparing vegetables. Anna felt the tears dim her eyes, she would treasure this for the rest of her life. She put it away hastily, trying to hide her emotion from the other passengers.

  She picked up Jacques's parcel, and even before she had it open she knew what it was. A big bag of lavender.

  CLANCY

  Clancy's thoughts were black. He trudged up the hill from the foundry, making his reluctant way to the tiny house which seemed even more prisonlike since his mother's death. The numbing sense of loss which had come upon him then had at least been lightened by the prospect of Anna's return, and hopes of their future in America. Now the bleak road ahead seemed to allow no glimmer of light to penetrate his dark solitude, and the horizon was hazy and uncertain.

  As he turned the corner he saw Will Gibson approaching, and felt a small fluttering of hope.

  'Will, I'm glad to see you.' Clancy smiled with relief. 'Did ye see her? Did ye ask her?'

  Will's face was like a mask. 'Arr, I saw 'er,' he answered. 'There's a deal to it, more ter tell like...'

  'Well, come in man,' Clancy said as they reached his front door. He opened the door and Will followed him inside. The fire was almost out, but Clancy attacked the compacted lump of slack with a poker, and it soon broke into a blaze. He added some small coal and pulled the kettle across on its trivet.

  'There, kettle won't be long. Have a seat.' Clancy smiled as he reached down two enamel mugs from the shelf. He liked Anna's brother, he was a man you could trust.

  'No tea thanks.' Will said. He seemed ill at ease, and Clancy had a sudden premonition.

  'She still won't see me?'

  As Will shook his head Clancy burst out, 'For Heaven's sake man, I don't deserve this! I can understand if she's decided not to marry me, or feels she can't face going to America, but why this? What have I done that she won't even speak to me? She's been back a week now...'

  'It ay that Clancy.' Will's tone was solemn. 'Yo' ay done nothin'. It's 'er. Our Anna.' He stopped, as if choosing his words.

  'Well?'

  'I couldn't understand it either. Since 'er's been back 'er ay said two waerds to anybody.' Will sighed. 'I was worried, real worried. 'Er said nothin' about France, what 'er's been doin'. Yo'd think 'er would be bendin' our ears, borin' us to death with all 'er adventures.'

  'Well?' Clancy said again.

  'Last night I went to see 'er when Dad was at the pub. I got to the bottom of it at last. 'Er ay mad with yo' Clancy, far from it. 'Er's ashamed.'

  'Ashamed? What about?' A sudden fear began to gnaw at Clancy.

  As if in answer to his thoughts Will said. 'That bastard Nicholson... Robert Nicholson...'

  Clancy's mind screamed in revolt, and he felt a great wave of loss and sadness overwhelm him. He wanted to deny it, to tell Will there was a mistake... but he said simply, 'I should have expected it. Your sister is very beautiful and he... he can offer her much more than I can...'

  ''E's offered her nothin',' Will said bitterly. 'Apparently he's gettin' married next Spring to some 'igh falutin' lady. 'E's thrown 'er over...'

  'What?' Clancy was distressed, and muttered briefly, 'Poor Anna.' He turned to Will. 'Whatever's happened Will, it means Anna is still free... I still love her...'

  Will raised a tired face. 'Yo' don't understand Clancy. Anna's in the club. 'Er's 'avin' a babby.'

  ~

  The small back room in Dawkins Street was silent as the grave. Anna found the house oppressive, but had not cared to walk out. Only the gentle crackle of the fire and the slight hiss from the simmering kettle broke the quietness as she sat, mending a shirt of her father's. She seemed unable to shake off the heavy feeling of depression which had descended upon her like a thick blanket. Her unhappiness was broken only by occasional moments of sheer panic, when she forced herself to think about what lay ahead.

  Even after confessing all to Will a few days ago, she had been unable to bring herself to tell her father. In spite of the fact that they seemed to be getting along quite well, she was sure he would turn her out once he knew of her condition. Will and Mary had already said that if the worst happened she could move in with them, but they were already overcrowded and Anna hated the thought of putting them to such inconvenience. The worst aspect of all was Anna's dread of the gossip which would undoubtedly surround her. The talk and backbiting would be inevitable once her pregnancy started to show. What a laugh the girls would have, she thought, biting off her thread and surveying her work. The shirt would 'count as one' as her mother would have said, although it would not last much longer.

  As usual the thought of her mother brought unbidde
n tears to sting her eyes, but Anna consoled herself with the thought that at least her mother would not witness her daughter's disgrace.

  The girls would certainly enjoy the scandal. "Miss Toffeenose" herself in the club! Ma Higgins had agreed to take her back to make chain, starting Monday, but Anna knew it was likely she would be dismissed as soon as her secret was out. Married women often worked right up to the day before birth, but if you were unmarried it was very different, you were regarded as a sinner likely to corrupt decent people. Anna could well remember seeing small children throwing stones and shouting names at a woman everyone called "Daft Molly".

  Anna started as there was a tap at the back door. It could only be Will, and he did not bother to knock. Her face flamed into confusion as the door opened and Clancy came in.

  'Oh, there ye are. I thought I'd catch ye, so I did.'

  The look of him standing there, solid and reassuring as ever, and the soft sound of his Irish brogue seemed to turn Anna's stomach to water. She began to tremble violently, but managed 'Hello, Clancy,' almost in a whisper.

  He came in and sat down in her father's chair. 'You're looking well,' he said conversationally. 'Nice and brown after your holiday.'

  Anna looked at him, but it did not seem he was being sarcastic. She suddenly remembered her manners.

  'I'm not sure why you're here Clancy, but could I just say... before you say anything... I was really sorry about your mother.'

  'Thank you. It was a blessed release for her, at the end.'

  Anna nodded, and there was a short silence.

  'I... er... I came to talk to you,' Clancy said hesitantly. 'Will told me... about everything... how you're placed...'

  'I know.' Anna felt her cheeks burn.

  'I think you could have told me yourself,' Clancy said shortly.

  'I couldn't! Oh Clancy, I just couldn't! I didn't want to hurt you and I knew I had... and I was so ashamed...' her small outburst ended in a whisper of anguish.

  'Well, that's as maybe.' Clancy responded quietly. 'Anyway, I want to hear it from your own lips, not from someone else, even Will, good chap that he is. It's taken me a couple of days to think it over, but that's why I've come.'