Erin’s Child

by Erin's Child (retail) (epub)

  You certainly aren’t a kid, Belle sighed to herself. My God, how many men have you had – at thirteen? And here’s me who’ll never know what it’s like… For that instant she put herself in May’s place, beneath all those male bodies. Then she said kindly, ‘Of course you’re not a kid, May. I meant only that you’d have company and could look after the little ones if you cared to.’

  ‘I’d have to come an’ have a look round first,’ said the girl warily.

  ‘Naturally,’ conceded Belle. ‘We are in rather an untidy state at the moment as I’m in the throes of moving. The new house is in Lawrence Street so you wouldn’t be too far from home if you wished to visit your mother.’ Though God forbid that the child would ever want to come back to this.

  ‘Is he comin’?’ May nodded at Brian.

  ‘Doctor Dyson will accompany us,’ said Belle. ‘Do say you’ll come. We’d love to have you.’

  With the girl’s agreement – her mother was blind drunk in the corner and anyway Belle saw no need to ask her permission – the three went outside to climb into the doctor’s carriage, proceeding to the house in Lawrence Street. After careful scrutiny of the room in which she would be sleeping, May said grudgingly, ‘All right, I’ll stop here.’ And Belle had got herself another child.

  * * *

  Erin had intended to be out of the house and away to the factory before the move got underway, but sadly her timing was inefficient. It seemed that she had missed Belle’s instruction to Mrs Howgego that those departing would need an early breakfast, for at the normal time this meal was taken the children were dashing up and down the landing bawling orders to those down below in the hall.

  Erin heard her daughter’s voice chastise them and the emphatic clomp of Belle’s boot on the stairs. She waited until it grew fainter before slipping down to the dining room and taking her own breakfast. She felt her parents’ searching look but kept her head well down over her meal, making no comment other than on the weather.

  ‘Aye, ’tis a rare day for Belle to be doing her flitting,’ remarked Patrick – just as his grand-daughter came in.

  ‘We’re about ready.’ She was looking at her mother’s stiff back.

  Thomasin dabbed a napkin to her lips and began to rise. ‘Oh, that was quick. You’re well organised, Belle. Get your coat on, Patrick, I don’t want you standing round in that climate.’

  ‘I don’t see your coat.’ He pushed back his chair.

  ‘Aye well, I’m not so fragile as you.’ Thomasin cocked a wink at her grand-daughter.

  ‘An’ ye’ve got more meat on ye,’ said her husband, receiving a tap.

  ‘Aren’t you coming, Erin?’ Thomasin looked back at her daughter who was still seated. Belle waited, too.

  ‘I can just as well say goodbye in here.’ Erin didn’t even turn.

  The three people at the door swapped wearied looks. Patrick went on to make a prompting action with his head at Belle, who took a few steps towards the table. ‘Goodbye then, Mother. You’ll always be welcome, you know.’

  ‘Goodbye.’ No good luck or I’ll miss you – just goodbye.

  Once outside Thomasin kissed her grand-daughter. ‘She will miss you, you know – and so will I.’

  Belle returned the sentiment, but her fondest display was for her grandfather to whom she issued instructions that he was to come round this afternoon and occupy the children while she unpacked the cases. ‘Somebody has to keep them in order and Brian’s on duty.’ Patrick said he’d love to come. ‘An’ I’ll bring me shillelagh.’ Erin, now upstairs, watched them from the window and saw her daughter drive away after the removal men. In a few more revolutions of the wheels Belle was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  For the rest of the year there was no verbal contact between Belle and Erin. On the isolated occasions when Belle had found the time to visit Peasholme Green her mother had kept well out of the way, so now Belle rarely bothered. One advantage this had was to lure Patrick out of his own house and along to hers where the lively company helped to keep his depression at bay – for as usual when the winter came upon them he was very low. Both he and Thomasin seemed tireless in their attempts to reconcile mother and daughter. With this in mind Belle was dreading the Christmas party that her grandmother had arranged, knowing that she would find herself seated next to her mother at the table. But when, on arrival, she took a crafty peep at the seating arrangements she was relieved to find that her grandmother had been unusually considerate; she and her charges were seated as far away from Erin as was possible. Only when the time came to eat and she caught the look on Thomasin’s face did she understand – Mother had switched all the labels round herself.

  The New Year was born into terrible coldness – both in Erin’s heart and in the elements. The tenth day of February, eighteen ninety-five, dawned to find the Ouse frozen over. Those lucky enough to have foreseen this event were ready equipped and able to spend the Sabbath skating up and down the petrified river. Belle, being too preoccupied with earning her living and the care of her brood to notice the worsening climate, had to wait until Monday to purchase several pairs of skates, so infuriating the clan.

  ‘Ch, ch, ch!’ she scolded the children now as they danced about excitedly on her return from the shop. ‘You’d all have a pair if you just have patience.’ She dropped the skates in a heap and the children fell on them like wolves. ‘Such savages. I hope they’re all prepared, Sally?’

  ‘Yes, miss,’ replied the nursemaid. ‘They’ve all got their chest protectors on.’

  ‘Capital! Well, I’d better go and change myself or I’ll be going the way of those skates.’ The children were tugging and fighting over them. ‘Stop that or we won’t be going anywhere!’

  Going upstairs, she changed her dress for one which was much shorter and would not brush the ice. Between this and her undergarments she wore a sheet of brown paper around her chest. It crackled when she moved but it would serve admirably to keep out the cold. Several layers of clothes later she went downstairs.

  The eldest girl, May, had taken charge of the others. She was much changed from the dirty suspicious waif whom Belle and the doctor had rescued from a life of prostitution. Quite a pretty child, she was dressed in a plaid dress with white stockings, fur-trimmed coat and hat. Clothes for the children had been donated by various friends though some, like May’s outfit, were new. Her own clothes had had to be burnt on entry to her new home. The girl was eager to be off, pushing the others into order. The two youngest, Lucy and Tom, were to be left in the nursemaid’s charge.

  Belle, straightening a child’s bonnet, enquired if all were wearing mittens. ‘I don’t want anybody complaining they’re cold. And do any of you need to relieve yourselves? I’m not putting half a dozen pairs of skates on and then have someone say they want to go – Cedric, what about you?’ Cedric, at ten, was mortified to be asked such a personal question in front of others. ‘I’ve already been.’

  ‘You said that before our last outing,’ riposted May. ‘Then we all had to come ’ome early just so’s you could have a pee.’

  ‘May!’ rebuked Belle.

  ‘We-ell, he’s always spoilin’ it for us,’ was May’s petulant complaint.

  ‘Nevertheless, that’s no way for a lady to talk. Now Cedric, are you absolutely sure?’

  ‘It wasn’t just me,’ objected the boy. ‘Eddie wanted to go an’ all.’

  ‘Look, we don’t wish to have an hour-long discussion on people’s bodily habits,’ said Belle. ‘I shall ask one more time. Is there any of you who wants to go?’ Her examination of each was met by a unified shake of head. ‘Very well, but if we get there and any person says otherwise that person stays at home the next time. Understood?’

  ‘Oh, please can we go now?’ begged little Anna.

  Belle arranged them to her satisfaction with May at the back of the queue and, each clutching a pair of ice skates, they set off. The river was a marvellous sight on this crisp February day. A vast ribbon of ice
stretching far away to meet the brilliant blue of the sky, it seemed to sparkle with mirth at the way it had crept so sneakily through the night to encase the unsuspecting barges tethered along the quayside, rendering them unusable for who could guess how long. Vendors had taken advantage of the severe snap, rigging up their stalls on the hibernating river: hot-chestnut sellers, trays spread with fresh parkin, muffins that steamed on the nippy air. There were sleds and toboggans and hundreds of skaters.

  ‘Oh, look,’ said May, pointing to the man selling ice-skates. ‘I bet he was here yesterday. We could’ve come, after all.’

  ‘Yes, but look at the price,’ replied Belle. ‘Tuppence ha’penny more than I paid.’

  May grumbled as she sat down to put on her skates. ‘All that brass you’ve got an’ yer worried about a few pence.’

  ‘Your impression is sadly mistaken, May, but if I do have any money it’s because I look after the pennies and don’t throw them away. Now, did you come here to grouse or to skate?’ May mumbled her answer. ‘Then help the little ones on with their skates, or by the time we’re ready the ice will be thawed.’

  The skates in place, she watched the children totter onto the ice, then seated herself on a convenient box to observe. The temperature remained static but the sight of her charges having the time of their deprived lives was sufficient to ward off the cold. Shortly – inevitably – the children became peckish and clamoured for nourishment. Belle forked out for six portions of pie and peas which were attacked with verve and consumed so rapidly that little pockets of steam still hovered around the devourers’ heads, even after the plates had been returned.

  After lunch the children returned whooping to the ice, whereupon it was decided by May that they should all skate up to Poppleton. ‘And I’m to sit here shivering while you glide off for a couple of hours, am I?’ called Belle at May’s proclamation.

  ‘It’s not cold,’ shouted May. ‘I’m sweatin’ cobs.’

  ‘Don’t be uncouth, May, please,’ scolded Belle. ‘And there’s no wonder you’re hot, you’re never still. I have to sit here and freeze while you lot have all the enjoyment.’

  ‘We could buy a sledge an’ drag you with us,’ suggested May. ‘Oh away, Aunt Belle. Look, everyone’s off. We can’t get lost – it’s a straight road.’

  ‘You think I’m bothered about you getting lost? I’ll be glad to see the back of you. Oh, go on then, but – May! Wait until I’ve finished speaking, please.’ May spun round on the ice, arms windmilling. ‘Don’t be hours, I have a pupil coming later this afternoon.’ Apart from writing articles for women’s journals Belle gave tuition in several musical instruments; also educational assistance to those who could afford to pay for the privilege. ‘Make sure the little ones don’t stray. Everyone hold hands. Stay in a chain.’

  She stood to watch them go, the tiny ones wobbling dangerously as May hauled the chain after her. ‘And come straight back! No sitting around on the ice or you’ll get something nasty.’ She pulled her collar up around her face and began to limp along the river bank. There was no point in loitering there for an hour or more, she might as well keep the circulation moving.

  ‘Belle!’ She turned to see Brian hurrying up. ‘I thought it was you,’ he panted, slowing to walk beside her.

  ‘Well, I’m hardly to be mistaken for anyone else, am I?’ she responded jocularly. ‘And what is our illustrious doctor doing here when he should be treating the sick?’

  ‘If you don’t object I was just between calls when I spotted you from the bridge. I’ve a call to make up at Friargate. I may as well walk this way. On your own?’ He looked at the frozen river for signs of the children.

  ‘I’ve been deserted,’ she told him. ‘May’s taken the others up to Poppleton. I hope it doesn’t tire the little ones too much. She can be over-enthusiastic at times.’ Her cheeks were bright pink, as was the tip of her nose. Brian thought how lovely she looked.

  ‘How’s she settling down?’

  ‘Quite well, I’ll never be able to make a lady of her of course,’ she smiled. ‘But she’s very good with the others.’

  ‘And is it safe for gentlemen to enter your house now?’ At first May had treated every one of Belle’s male visitors as prospective customers, apart from Patrick who to her was obviously past it. It had been highly embarrassing. Belle had been compelled to have a strict talk with her.

  ‘Well, I can’t say if it’s safe for gentlemen yet but you’ll certainly be all right.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘Doesn’t it look lovely?’ Belle moved leisurely beside him in her up and down gait, eyes sparkling with the frost.

  ‘Wonderful. I wish I didn’t have to make the call. I’d be on there with them. Why haven’t you got your skates on?’

  ‘With this?’ Belle indicated her surgical boot.

  ‘I’m sure with our ingenuity we could improvise.’

  ‘Thank you very much, but I prefer to keep my feet on dry land.’ The thought of all that water lurking beneath the ice produced an involuntary shiver.

  ‘So what are you going to do while you wait for the clan to return?’ he enquired. ‘You can’t keep parading up and down in this area. You’ll be arrested.’

  ‘Brian, I wish you wouldn’t be so heavy-handed with the compliments.’

  ‘Come with me,’ he suggested.

  ‘On your rounds?’

  ‘Just to this call,’ he pointed to the sidestreet. ‘I’ve a child to see.’

  Belle pondered for a moment, then said, ‘All right – but I must be back here before the children else they’ll wonder where I am.’

  The house to which Brian took her had a freshly-painted frontage. The interior, too, was exceptionally neat and tidy. Yet there was a definite malaise that hit Belle immediately she entered. Looking at Brian she could tell he sensed it, too.

  ‘Good afternoon, Doctor.’ The woman who had let them in took Brian’s hat and laid it on the hallstand. Her mouth curved upwards but the outer edges of the smile twitched nervously and the eyes seemed reluctant to meet his as she spoke. ‘It’s my son. He’s upstairs. Had a bit of an accident.’

  ‘What sort of accident?’ Brian followed her upstairs with Belle taking up the rear.

  ‘He pulled a hot iron on himself.’

  ‘Good heavens, how did he manage to do that?’ They had reached the bedroom. Brian stepped in and approached the bed where a pale face stared up at him, the covers pulled down to the owner’s waist despite the formation of ice on the small window.

  ‘Well, I’d been ironing, you see,’ said the woman, rubbing her arms either through cold or apprehension. ‘I had another iron heating on the hob when Samuel, that’s him, he sort of… oh, I don’t know how he did it but he managed to knock the iron onto himself.’

  On the sparrow-like chest stood a perfect imprint of the iron, lobster pink and puckered at the edges, obviously more uncomfortable than the intense cold of the room. The doctor bit back his exclamation and studied the wound more closely, assuring the wary child that he wasn’t going to touch it. ‘How did you come to do this, old chap, eh?’

  ‘I knocked it off the hob by accident,’ recited the boy, keeping a close eye on the position of Brian’s hands. ‘It hurts.’

  ‘I’ll bet it does,’ murmured the doctor, then looked at Belle. ‘Would you care to take a look?’ He moved aside in order for her to step closer to the bed.

  ‘That’s dreadful.’ Her forehead creased into a frown.

  ‘It’s even more dreadful when you know how the wound was inflicted,’ said Brian, his eyes riveted to the mother’s. Belle looked from one to the other as Brian asked the woman, ‘Would you care to tell me what really happened?’

  ‘But I told you,’ the woman would not meet his stare. ‘He pulled the iron on himself.’

  ‘It’s impossible to incur such a burn in that fashion. That wound was inflicted deliberately.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘The red-hot iron was placed flat
on the boy’s chest and held there.’

  ‘No!’ There was fear in the eyes. ‘He’ll swear, it was an accident.’

  ‘Brian, what are you saying?’ asked Belle.

  ‘I should’ve thought that was patently obvious,’ said the doctor angrily.

  ‘God Almighty,’ breathed the young woman.

  ‘It was an accident,’ insisted the patient’s mother. ‘You’ve no right to come in here saying things like that. I shall contact my lawyer and have you sued for slander.’

  ‘Oh, do stop all this idiotic pretence,’ snapped Brian. ‘I know and you know that this burn was inflicted purposely. The question is, by whom? Was it the boy’s father?’

  ‘No!’

  Brian turned to the frightened boy. ‘Was it your father who did this?’ The head moved from side to side. ‘Then who?’

  ‘It was an accident. I did it myself.’

  ‘No one is going to hurt you for telling the truth,’ said Brian firmly. ‘But you must tell us for your own good. Was it your father?’

  ‘No…’ Samuel agonised, then said, ‘Mother did it – but she didn’t mean to!’ he cried as Brian turned on the woman, his face contorted with disgust.

  ‘He doesn’t know what he’s saying,’ defended the woman. ‘He’s delirious.’

  ‘I’m going to report this matter to the SPCC,’ decided Brian abruptly.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You know very well, I think!’

  ‘I didn’t do it deliberately!’ The woman finally broke her pretence. ‘He was just getting on my nerves, dancing about with no clothes on, like a savage, screaming and shouting. He looked just like his father. Something seemed to take over me. I just picked up the iron and pressed it to his chest… oh, God, he did scream. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. When I saw that great big mark appearing on his skin I couldn’t believe it was me who’d done it.’ She put her face in her hands.