by Anne Brear
“What’s happening, Flo?” Sophia bent to get a closer look, which was difficult, as Flo had the girl squashed into her body like a baby suckling.
“Nay, I’m not sure. One minute I’m asking if this lass here was lookin’ for someone, an’ the next minute she’s fallin’ to the ground.” Flo’s chins wobbled as she shook her head in amazement of it all.
“She’s not from these parts, that’s for sure,” Ida McDonnell tutted.
Sophia glanced up at the tall thin woman dressed in black, a nasty crone who had nothing good to say about anything before addressing the rest of the crowd. “Have any of you seen her before?” Shakes of head and negative mumbles were her reply.
“She’s stirring.” Flo patted the girl’s cheek.
Sophia stepped closer, noting the good cloth of her dress, the fine hat knocked askew. For some reason a shiver passed down Sophia’s back. She swallowed as the young woman turned her face away from the heaving bosom of Flo and opened her eyes.
The blood drained from Sophia’s face. And for the first time in her life she wished a faint would be lethal enough to release her from this world. She stared into the dark brown eyes of her daughter. Of that she had no doubt for weren’t they the mirror of her own? The girl even had her shaped face. She was, in fact, a younger version of herself. And she was here!
“What we going to do with her?” Ida muttered, revulsion on her face as though the girl was scum off the street. Others nodded in agreement and rumbles of discord sounded.
Sophia wanted to laugh hysterically at them. Here they were in one of the worst areas of York and the girl on Flo’s arms wore black silk that would have cost more than most of these women’s husbands earned in a year. Yet, they were stiff and unyielding as though she’d brought the plague.
“I’m quite all right.” The girl, the young woman, struggled to her feet with Flo’s help. The crowd stepped back, unused to having a member of the middle class in their territory and were united in their suspicion of her.
Sophia sighed resignedly, knowing exactly what they were thinking. Hadn’t she been on the receiving end of it herself many years ago? Hadn’t she spent years of making excuses why she didn’t speak or act like they all did in these parts? Convent educated she had told them, a lady’s maid was another lie. No one knew her sister was wealthy, nor did they know she’d given up a baby – a baby who’d grown into this pretty thing in Flo’s arms.
“What’s your name, lass?” Flo’s gentle question had them all eager to listen for the answer.
“Aurora Pettigrew.”
Stifling another gasp that her daughter was really before her, and she hadn’t imagined it, Sophia momentarily closed her eyes, hoping to find the strength she’d need to get through this day. Why had she come here?
“Aur-Arr-Auro… What a pretty name. Now then, luv,” Flo rubbed Aurora’s arm. “What you doing about ‘ere?”
“I’ve come to find someone.” Aurora’s gaze left Flo and looked directly at Sophia. “I’ve come to find Sophia Barton.”
All heads turned to Sophia and she felt her cheeks grow warm. “You’d best come inside then, hadn’t you?” Sophia barged through the crowd and down the alley to the back of the pub, not knowing if the girl followed or not. She had the keys today because Big Eddie, the publican, was at the brewery for a meeting. The numerous keys on the ring didn’t help her shaking fingers, but she finally found the correct key and unlocked the door.
Inside the scullery-come-storage room, she turned to find Aurora standing on the step behind her, suitcase in hand, hat knocked askew.
“Come in then, if you are.” Sophia didn’t mean to bark it like an order, but her heart galloped wildly like she’d run for ten miles. She led the way through a curtained door into a large kitchen. It was empty and cold and silent. “Mrs Flannigan will be in shortly and make some tea. She’s the cook here. The pub serves meals, you see. Mrs Flannigan’s a good cook.” She banged some pots around, filled the kettle, anything to keep her hands busy. “The men enjoy her hotpots. She makes them fresh on the day and doesn’t use the scrag ends of meat like others do.” Sophia closed her mouth, hating the fact she was rambling, but she was so nervous she couldn’t think straight. What was the girl doing here?
“You are Sophia.” The girl, Aurora, asked quietly, standing by the door. “You must be shocked to see me?”
Sophia faced the range, taking the poker she knocked out the cold ashes as if she wanted to do them serious harm. “I can’t think why you are here.”
“I found out about you.”
“Obviously.”
“So it is true. You are my mother?”
“No, Winnie is your mother. I just gave birth to you.” She straightened and replaced the poker on its stand. “I never expected Winnie to tell you.”
“She didn’t.”
Nonplussed, Sophia turned to the large table dominating the middle of the room, but it was bare and didn’t afford her something to do. How did she find out about her? Then she remembered the man, the fifty pounds pushed into her hands when she spilled out her past in a fit of pique. Oh, God help her.
She spun around to the aprons hanging on a hook at the back of another door. In frenzied movements she tied on a white apron and then opened the door. “This leads through to the bar.”
She hurried up the dark passageway and pushed open another door into the wide space of the bar room. Spilt beer and stale smoke assaulted her nostrils as it did every time she started a new day at work. Would she ever get used to it?
Aware of the girl entering the bar room behind her, Sophia rushed around the chairs and tables to pull back the old, moth eaten, dark red velvet curtains at each window, flooding the room with weak light. She pushed up the sash windows to allow fresh air to flow in and the sounds of the street outside were, for once, comforting and very normal.
“I’m sorry if my coming here has upset you.”
She turned to face her daughter, her daughter! The idea still was too hard to believe. Again she felt the need to laugh hysterically. “Then why did you come?”
“I had to see you.”
“Well, now you have, so you can go.” She steeled herself from the pain that clouded the girl’s eyes.
“But I thought—”
“There is nothing for you here.”
A ghost of smile appeared on her pale beautiful face. “There is nothing for me anywhere now.”
“Go home.”
“I cannot.”
“Why?” Although she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to be involved in this young woman’s life, a life so far removed from her own, yet a life she once had…
“I cannot return home because I am with child.”
Sophia swayed and gripped the back of a wooden chair for support. Lord in heaven, history had repeated itself.
“I’m sorry.”
She glared at the girl, hating her for dragging up a past she had successfully buried. “Go home.”
“I told you I cannot.”
“The father won’t or can’t marry you, I gather?”
“No.”
“Look, Winnie will understand. She did before.”
“With you.”
“Yes, with me.”
“I can’t do it to them. They’d be so disappointed.”
“They’ll deal with it. They must be frantic with worry. You did leave a note, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I told them I had found out about you and I was going to find you.”
“Did you give them my address?”
“No. I won’t return to them, but I did promise to send letters to reassure them I am all right.”
“You can’t stay here.” She hardened her heart against the desolate look on the girl’s face. She hadn’t given her baby up to Winnie for nothing. It had broken her heart when Winnie and Josiah left with her baby, but she’d done it because she wanted her child to have a better life than she could give her. She wasn’t going to let the silly fool ruin
all that she had sacrificed!
“Do you know of somewhere I may go?”
“What? Like a fallen women’s home or something?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“No, you don’t know much about anything, do you?” Sophia snapped. “What possessed you to come here, to me? I’ve got nothing for you. I work as a barmaid and live in lodgings. Go home.”
The girl bent and picked up her suitcase. “Forgive me for disturbing you.” She turned and walked out of the bar room.
Against her better judgment, Sophia followed her into the kitchen. “Do you have money?”
“A little, yes.”
“Then buy a train ticket back to Leeds, or wherever it is you live.”
The girl’s head bowed and she went through to the scullery. Sophia fought the urge to say more.
At the back door the girl stopped and looked back at her. “Who was my father?”
She stiffened at the question. “Nobody.”
“Nobody?” Tears welled in her daughter’s eyes.
“That’s right. Just some fellow I met. Can’t even remember his name or what he looked like.” She took a deep breath, ashamed at the lies that rolled so easily off her tongue. She remembered everything about Alexander Finchley, a good-looking friend of her uncle’s who stayed with the family one spring.
“Goodbye then.”
“Go home, please.” She begged, taking a step towards the child, the piece of her she had painfully given up so many years ago.
“And shatter their lives? I don’t think so. I won’t do it to them. I’ll make my own way.”
“How, for God’s sake?” Fear filled her. The girl wouldn’t survive it and if she did what kind of life would she have? One like mine, a voice whispered inside her head and her stomach constricted.
“I’ll work it out.” The girl opened the back door. “You did.”
“Wait!” Sophia rushed to her side and stood dithering a few feet from her. “Listen…I…er…would you like a cup of tea before you go?”
Relief flooded the girl’s face. “That-that would be nice. Thank you.”
Sophia hurried into the kitchen to throw paper twists into the range and wood kindling. Striking a match she lit the fire and fed it more slivers of wood before placing the kettle on the hob. “When did you last eat?”
“Yesterday…” The girl sat at the table, her suitcase by her side. So neat and tidy, Sophia’s heart dipped at the sight of her. “It’s all been a bit of a blur actually.”
“I’ll make you a sandwich.” With her back turned, Sophia busied herself at preparing the tea and a light meal. It gave her the excuse not to make conversation. She didn’t know what to say anyway. Discussing shared experiences of running away didn’t seem the sensible thing to do and that’s all they had in common. When the silence dragged on and the food prepared, Sophia turned around and found the girl asleep, her head lying back in an uncomfortable position.
She took the opportunity to properly look at the young woman her baby had grown into and felt the stirrings of an old buried love in her breast. Softly, she walked over to her and hesitantly lifted her hand to lightly touch her cheek. The girl, Aurora, looked so fragile. Shadows bruised the skin under eyes. Her full lips were turned down even in sleep. Her beauty seemed so delicate. How would she cope with bringing a child into the world? Why wasn’t she home safe and adored? Anger flared at the unknown man who’d brought her girl down. Thoughts hurtled around in her head. Part of her was annoyed at being in this situation, but the other, traitorous, half was overjoyed to see and be near her baby again.
Aurora stirred, her hand coming up to rub her neck, which no doubt had cramped from the unwelcome position of her head. Sophia jumped away and quickly focused on arranging the sandwich and tea on the table.
“How rude of me to fall asleep.” A blush crept up Aurora’s neck, giving her some color at last.
“Carrying a baby makes you tired. Have some tea.”
“Thank you.”
“Look, I have to open up this place soon. Why don’t you rest here a bit and then later I’ll take you back to my place and you can stay there tonight.” Now what on earth had made her say that! She wanted to take the words back, say she didn’t mean them.
“Oh, thank you.”
“Well, it’s just until you get yourself sorted out.” Sophia spun away and marched into the bar room, cursing herself for being all kinds of a fool.
Chapter Eight
While Mrs Flannigan poured her another cup of tea, Aurora listened to the hubbub of noise coming through from the bar at the front of the building. She’d been sitting at the table for the whole afternoon and felt stiff and achy. Mrs Flannigan, a widower in her sixties, kept up the flow of talk while she cooked and Aurora was grateful for it because it prevented her from thinking too hard about the craziness of being here with her real mother.
The woman, Sophia, hurried into the room, her face flushed. Locks of her chestnut hair, a bit darker than Aurora’s, had slipped from its bun and whipped about her face as she gave Mrs Flannigan more orders for hotpots.
Aurora hadn’t spoken to her much since the bar opened because Sophia had to serve the customers. But they smiled shyly at each other every time Sophia came into the kitchen. Aurora was sorry to have disrupted Sophia’s life, but she needed to see her, identify her as the one who gave her life. And now that she had, she couldn’t think what to do next. The future stretched out depressingly long and frightfully scary.
All three of them turned when the back door opened and in from the scullery walked a large barrel–shaped man.
“Ho, what’s this then?” He beamed in Aurora’s direction. “A visitor?”
“Big Eddie, this is…this is a friend of mine, Aurora Pettigrew,” Sophia blurted, looking guilty. “I hope you don’t mind her staying here for a bit. I’ll take her home shortly, but I’ll be back in a flash.” She turned to Aurora. “This is Eddie Minton, the landlord. We call him Big Eddie.”
Big Eddie’s gaze assessing roamed over Aurora. He tilted his head to one side to study her and thrust out a large meaty hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss.”
She shook his hand, liking him instantly. “And you, Mr Minton.”
“Call me Big Eddie, lass, everyone else does. I never answer to Mr Minton unless I’m in trouble.” His laughter boomed out, filling the room. He hung up his coat and hat. “Smells good, Mrs Flannigan. Is it busy out there, Soph, my love?”
“Not yet, just the regulars, but it’s early.”
“Aye.” He went to walk through to the bar, but paused in the doorway. “Take the lass off home, she looks done in.”
“Thanks, Big Eddie, I will.”
“If it’s quiet later, you can knock off a bit early like.”
“Ta, Eddie.” The color in Sophia’s cheeks heightened and she lowered her head as if ashamed. “Get your things ... Aurora.”
Aurora allowed Sophia to usher her out of the door and into the evening dusk. The street seemed busier than before and Aurora stared at the number of men and women about.
“Day shift has finished. People are on their way home from work,” Sophia said, as though reading her thoughts.
“Oh, I see.”
Sophia strode down the street carrying Aurora’s suitcase. “Don’t expect anything fancy. I’ve had to work for the last twenty years and can only afford what my pay provides, which isn’t much.”
“Of course.” Aurora walked faster to keep up with her, especially when Sophia turned into a dark alley and then again into a narrow cut. She held her breath as the stink from open drains and piles of rubbish filled the area. From the cut they walked into a large square bordered on all sides by three storey buildings, with each side having its own narrow passageway. In the middle of the square were the privies and the one tap, which serviced the area, so Sophia said as they hurried along.
Aurora stared around in horror at the dismal sight. Everything was gray, dirty and dreadfully bleak. Revuls
ion at the way people lived here stirred up the contents of her stomach and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
“It’s not pretty is it?” Sophia stood at the bottom of a steep wooden staircase that climbed up round the outside of the building. “This is what happens to you when you leave the security and comfort of your home. You end up in places like this. Do you understand that now?”
Aurora stared at her, upset by the hardness in Sophia’s eyes. Before she could say anything, Sophia went up the stairs and using a key hung on a string from around her neck, opened the last door on the small platform. Aurora looked up at the next landing above where two small children stood watching her.
“Well, are you coming in?”
Hitching up her skirts, Aurora crossed to the open door and stepped inside Sophia’s home. The gloominess of the evening light didn’t help to give the room a comforting feel. On the right a worn sofa sat opposite an unlit fireplace, which also served as a small cooking range. To the left was a double bed covered with a dark red blanket and at the end of it was an old battered trunk. A small table and two chairs hugged the far corner next to a rail from which hung clothes. Mould covered the top half of the walls, which once might have been white but now were a dull mud color. Aurora shuddered.
“Yes, this is what you can amount to.” Sophia said from near the fireplace. “See why you need to go home? Anything is better than this.”
A scream rent the air from above. Aurora jerked around thinking they were being attacked.
Sophia laughed hollowly. “That’s Minnie upstairs, likely her Barney is giving her a black eye as he does every week.” She bent and put a match to the papers and odd bits of wood in the grate. “Close the door so I can get this fire to draw.”
Heart thumping in her chest, Aurora moved into the room and closed the door behind her, shutting out the weak light.
“I’ve not got much in to eat. A bit of bread and some pickled onions, but there’s tea. I usually eat at the pub.” Satisfied the fire would burn, Sophia straightened. “You can sleep on the bed, I’ll take the sofa.” She made for the door. “I’ll be home after midnight, but I’ll take my key, so lock the door. You’ll be safe enough though. No one bothers me.”