A young man of whom Harry could approve.
‘The table’s ready,’ Rebecca interrupted Eveleen’s thoughts. ‘I’ll shell the peas.’
Eveleen nodded and took the heavy pan of potatoes through to the parlour to put on the hob to boil. Straightening up she went to the window overlooking the yard. There was still a light in the workshop window near where her uncle’s frame stood.
Going back into the kitchen, she said carefully, ‘Rebecca, Andrew was asking after you today. He wants to talk to you.’
The girl looked up. ‘Well, I don’t want to talk to him.’
‘Why not?’
The girl shrugged. ‘I don’t like him.’
‘He’s very fond of you.’
Rebecca hung her head and said nothing, but Eveleen was not about to let the matter rest. ‘From what he said, I thought that you were friends.’
Rebecca’s head came up quickly. ‘What did he say?’
Eveleen decided that the time had come for complete honesty, if she was to prise Rebecca away from Jimmy. ‘He said that he loves you and that before Jimmy came on the scene he thought he had a chance with you.’ Eveleen bent towards her. ‘Did he?’
‘Maybe,’ Rebecca was defensive now. ‘But not any more. It’s Jimmy I – I love now. And he loves me. I know he does.’
‘Have you – have you . . . ?’ Eveleen was at a loss as to how to ask the question delicately.
‘That’s none of your business,’ Rebecca almost snapped, showing the most spirit that Eveleen had ever seen.
But her defensive answer told Eveleen what she most feared to hear.
‘Gran, will you help me sort Jimmy and Rebecca out? We’ve got to put a stop to it. Right now.’
The old lady leant back in her chair and closed her eyes. ‘Oh, Eveleen, I’m too old for all this trouble. Maybe if I was a few years younger—’
Before Eveleen could hold back the words they were out of her mouth. ‘But you didn’t do anything when you were younger, did you? You didn’t stick up for my mother against her father. You let them make her life so awful that she ran away.’ Instantly the words were said, Eveleen regretted them. ‘Oh I’m sorry, Gran. I shouldn’t have said that.’
Bridget sighed wearily and tears watered in her old eyes. ‘Tell the truth and shame the Devil, eh, Eveleen?’ she murmured and smiled sadly. ‘But you’re right. I’m all talk and no do. That’s me.’ She lifted her head and looked straight into Eveleen’s eyes. ‘You’re like me, but you’ve more spirit than I ever had. Mind you never lose it, love. Don’t let anyone rule you, Eveleen. Not anyone. Not even if you fall in love. Don’t fall so hard that you lose your own personality. You’re someone in your own right, Eveleen. Never forget that.’
Softly Eveleen said, ‘I won’t, Gran. But what are we going to do about Jimmy and Rebecca?’
The old woman rested again. ‘It’ll sort itself out,’ she said tiredly.
Eveleen watched as Bridget’s eyes closed and she dozed. But would it? the girl asked herself and found no answer.
Over the following days, Eveleen watched the pair like a hawk. As far as she could see, Jimmy seemed to be obeying Harry’s orders. He never came to their cottage. He didn’t even linger to talk to Rebecca when he passed through the yard to work and she just happened to be going to and fro between the house and the washhouse, her arms full of laundry. If either of them looked about to disobey, Eveleen had to admit that it was Rebecca who looked the most likely.
Often she would find the girl standing at the parlour window overlooking the yard. She was watching for someone. That much was obvious. In the evenings when the young lads played cricket in the yard, Jimmy was no longer among them. Andrew always positioned himself behind the pump, playing wicket keeper so that he could be close to the window of the cottage. Eveleen saw him casting anxious, pleading glances towards it, but Rebecca would turn away, deliberately ignoring him.
‘Rebecca,’ Eveleen said at last, exasperated. ‘Forget Jimmy. He’s not worth it. Believe me.’
‘I don’t know why you’re so against us.’ Rebecca turned tearful eyes upon Eveleen. ‘I’d have thought you’d have been happy for us. Don’t you like me, Eveleen?’
‘Oh, Rebecca. It’s because I like you – I love you – that I’m so afraid for you. For both of you.’ Eveleen ran her tongue over her lips before saying carefully, ‘I know he’s my brother, Rebecca, but even I have to admit that he’s not – not reliable. And your father can see that. He’ll never allow you to marry Jimmy, even if . . .’ She faltered, unwilling to hurt the girl further by telling her of Jimmy’s own views on marriage.
‘My father will never allow me to marry anyone,’ Rebecca said bitterly. ‘He wants to keep me here an old maid. Just to look after him.’
‘Oh no, surely not.’
‘Oh yes, surely yes,’ Rebecca mimicked bitterly. ‘If I want to get married, the only way I’ll ever be able to do it is to run away. Just like your mother did.’
‘That was different. That was because she was in disgrace and – and she was . . .’ Eveleen faltered, staring at Rebecca. She noticed now the girl’s white face, the blue smudges beneath her eyes.
‘So,’ Rebecca whispered. ‘Where’s the difference?’
‘Oh no,’ Eveleen breathed, feeling as if she had been punched hard in the stomach. ‘Oh, Rebecca, no!’
They stood for several moments just staring at each other, Eveleen with a look of horror on her face, while Rebecca was pale and silent and yet with a strange expression of relief. Eveleen guessed that the girl had carried her secret for some time and now, sharing it with someone, eased the fear, even if only a little.
But Eveleen felt as if she had been handed yet another burden to carry; a weight that threatened to crush them all.
She put out her arms and enfolded the girl to her. At the show of kindness, Rebecca’s resolve crumbled and she wept against Eveleen’s shoulder. Awkwardly Eveleen patted her back. ‘There, there, don’t cry. We’ll sort it out.’
But Eveleen’s brave words held far more confidence than she was feeling inside.
Now there was going to be real trouble.
Eveleen still fretted over Rebecca and fumed over Jimmy. How could he have been so thoughtless, so stupid? The only respite she got was when she was at her work. For a few hours she determined to put aside all thoughts of the impending cataclysm and to do her work well. Ruefully she admitted that she had every need to. Soon, she thought, they would be leaving here. When the news broke, as break it must, they would be out on the streets once more.
And where to this time? Back home? But to what? They were no better off now than when they had left Bernby. She sighed. Perhaps they should never have left. Perhaps they should have tried harder, she and Jimmy, to find work locally in or near Grantham and to rent a small cottage somewhere.
But we did try, she reminded herself. We tried very hard. At the time, coming to her mother’s family had seemed the best solution, but she had not known exactly what they were coming to. She had pictured her mother’s family as being like her own, with a kindly, understanding father at its head. Harry Singleton was no Walter Hardcastle. And that had been Eveleen’s mistake.
‘Here, I want a word with you.’ One evening after work she grabbed hold of Jimmy’s arm and, anger giving her strength, hauled him into the empty washhouse, slammed the door behind her and leant against it.
‘What’s got into you, Evie?’ For a moment he looked angry. Then he grinned. ‘Oh, I get it. You’ve arranged for Rebecca to meet me here, have you? I knew it. I knew you’d be on our side eventually.’
‘Nothing of the sort,’ Eveleen snapped.
His face fell. ‘Well, in that case, I’m off. I’ve got a date in the village.’
‘Oh aye,’ Eveleen’s voice hardened. She had suspected as much for she had heard Jimmy’s whistling as he came back into the yard and towards Bridget’s cottage late at night. He was either out with a group of youths in the village or seeing a girl. ‘Oh aye,’
she said again. ‘Going to get another one pregnant an’ all, are you?’
In the dim light, she could see that Jimmy’s jaw dropped. It gave her a second’s devious pleasure to see that he actually looked shocked.
She nodded and folded her arms, still leaning against the door. ‘That’s wiped the smile off your face, hasn’t it?’
‘You – you don’t mean it.’ He tried to laugh, but the sound was brittle. ‘You’re having me on.’
She bent towards him, her gaze holding his. ‘Do you think I’d really joke about a thing like that? Rebecca’s having your child and the poor girl’s frightened out of her wits. So, Jimmy Hardcastle, what are you going to do about it?’
He stared at her and then his lip curled. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing? What do you mean, nothing?’
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and cocked his head on one side as he returned her gaze boldly now. ‘How do I know it’s mine?’
Eveleen lifted her right hand and slapped his face hard.
Twenty-Seven
Eveleen never told Rebecca the full conversation that had taken place between her and Jimmy in the wash-house, merely that Jimmy now knew about her condition.
‘Oh, you shouldn’t have told him,’ Rebecca wailed.
‘He’s got to know. You can’t keep it secret for ever, Rebecca.’
A look of sheer terror crossed the girl’s face. ‘Don’t tell my father. Please, Eveleen.’ She clung to Eveleen’s hand in desperation.
‘He’ll have to know,’ Eveleen said quietly. ‘Sooner or later.’
‘Then – then let it be later. As late as possible.’ She cast about her, seeking escape. ‘I’ll go away. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll have to. I can’t stay here. Jimmy will take me, won’t he?’
‘I think,’ Eveleen said slowly, ‘that once the truth comes out, we’ll all have to leave. Your father won’t want us here any longer.’
‘It’s not your fault. Or your mother’s.’
‘Maybe not. But I doubt your father will see it that way.’ She thought a moment and then added, ‘Rebecca, maybe we’re misjudging your father. Maybe he will stand by you. You’re his only daughter. You’re all he’s got. Surely he won’t turn his back on you.’ She hesitated and there was doubt in her own voice as she added, ‘Will he?’
‘If you think there’s the slightest chance of that, then you really don’t know my father,’ Rebecca said bitterly.
‘Then I really think we should tell Gran.’
Rebecca shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘She’ll not do anything.’
To that Eveleen had no answer. She was very much afraid that Rebecca was right.
They were singing Eveleen’s favourite hymn. Sitting close together in the pew, they looked like any other happy, close-knit family. But Eveleen could feel the tension in the air so tangibly she could almost reach out and grasp it. Jimmy was sitting at the far end of the pew, squashed against the wall, while Rebecca had been placed almost at the opposite end with her father sitting on her right-hand side near the aisle.
After the service, Eveleen planned to take Rebecca with her on her usual afternoon visit to their grandmother. But today there would be no lace-making done.
Today they had something to tell Bridget. And the good Lord alone knew what would happen after that. Eveleen closed her eyes and offered up a fervent prayer.
If ever she had needed to pray in her life, she needed to do so now.
‘This is nice. Both my granddaughters paying me a visit.’
Unaware of the bombshell about to explode, Bridget welcomed them. ‘Sit down, sit down. Don’t make the place look untidy,’ she joked.
They obeyed her, but both of the girls sat on the edge of their chairs, glancing at one other, each waiting for the other to begin.
Seeing how white and frail Rebecca looked – far from gaining weight because of her pregnancy, the girl looked to have lost it – Eveleen licked her dry lips and said, ‘Gran, we need to talk to you. We’ve . . .’ She glanced across at Rebecca, but the girl was now sitting with her eyes downcast, her fingers laced tightly together in her lap. ‘We’ve got a bit of a problem.’ Even as she said the words she almost laughed hysterically at the understatement.
Bridget leant forward in her chair, looking from one to the other.
‘There’s no easy way to tell you this, Gran. Rebecca is expecting a baby.’
The old lady closed her eyes, groaned and flopped back in her chair. Eveleen half rose but then Bridget opened her eyes. Looking at Rebecca she said harshly, ‘You little fool!’
‘Gran—’ Eveleen began.
‘You keep out of this, miss. This is family business.’
‘But we’re family. We’re—’
‘Aye, you are. But I wish you weren’t. If it hadn’t been for you coming here, this would never have happened.’
Eveleen felt the colour drain from her face as she stared at the woman in front of her. The woman she had believed loved her, loved all her grandchildren. She had thought that Bridget would help them. But already the old woman’s mood had turned against them. She was ready to side with the person who she knew would be the victor in any family quarrel. Her son, Harry.
And then Bridget said the words that Eveleen had expected to hear from her uncle, but never from her grandmother.
‘You’ve brought trouble back to our door, Eveleen. Your mother’s a bad lot and she’s tainted this girl with her wickedness.’ She leant back in her chair. ‘You’d better pack your things. You’ll be out of here before nightfall, I can guarantee you that. And you’ll be taking her with you.’
‘Oh Gran, I thought you’d help us. I thought you would understand. When we’ve talked you’ve sounded as if you regretted what happened twenty years ago. As if you wish you’d acted differently. Now’s your chance to—’
The sharp eyes in the wrinkled face opened wide. Now there was a look of vindictiveness in them that Eveleen had never seen before. ‘Don’t you tell me what I can or can’t do, girl. When Harry finds out about this, you’ll be out on your ears. The lot of you. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.’ Her head dropped and though she muttered the last few words, Eveleen heard them. ‘Even if I wanted to.’
Shocked, Eveleen rose. Rebecca was now in tears. Sobs shook her thin shoulders and she sat hunched in her chair. As Eveleen looked down on her, she knew that from this moment on she had another being for whom she was responsible. Two, if it came to that. For there was the unborn child to consider too.
‘You’d better get your things packed. We’ll likely be homeless by tonight. We’ve told Gran so I don’t expect it’ll be long before Uncle Harry hears.’
‘What did you want to go and do a daft thing like that for?’
Eveleen clicked her tongue against her teeth in exasperation. ‘You’re as naïve as Rebecca. She thought that as long as no one knew, the problem would go away. Well, it won’t.’
‘You’re the one that’s naïve, our Evie, if you thought any of them here would help. Why didn’t you let me find us somewhere else to go first before you went opening your big mouth?’
‘Oh thanks. So it’s my fault we’re in this mess, is it? I rather think it’s your fault, not mine.’
‘Mebbe. Mebbe not.’
‘Don’t start that again.’
‘How do you know it’s not Andrew Burns’ kid? He’s always sniffing round her.’
‘I do know,’ Eveleen said shortly. ‘And if you cared about Rebecca at all, you wouldn’t even think such a thing of her.’
‘If she let me, how do I know she didn’t let others.’
Eveleen shuddered. Her brother had just confirmed what she had believed. He was no better, but probably no worse either, than most men. They wheedled and begged and promised the earth and then, afterwards, they believed the worst. Thank goodness, she thought yet again, she had held out against Stephen Dunsmore.
Sadness washed over her. Was there no man in the world who would reall
y love and cherish her?
Twenty-Eight
Eveleen had been wrong about one thing. Bridget did not tell her son and so Eveleen had a few days’ grace to think and to plan.
Nottingham, she decided. There would be work there. Now that both she and Jimmy could operate frames, she was sure that there would be work in the hosiery industry for them. Somehow she would have to take a day off from work to go to the city. But it was going to be difficult to explain her absence to her uncle.
The solution came from an unexpected quarter.
‘She is, isn’t she?’
The very next morning, Andrew was waiting for her as she went to work, barring her way up the staircase until she answered him.
Eveleen nodded, miserably.
‘I could break ’is neck,’ the lad muttered, and Eveleen believed that if her brother had been there at that moment, Andrew would have done just that. ‘What are you going to do, ’cos he’ll throw you out, once he knows.’
‘I know,’ Eveleen whispered hoarsely, aware that Andrew was now referring to her uncle. ‘I want to get to Nottingham to see if I can find us work and a place to live, but,’ she spread her hands helplessly, ‘I don’t know what excuse to make to Uncle Harry.’
Andrew looked thoughtful. ‘Pity you haven’t got some lace to take to the city.’
Eveleen gripped his arm. ‘But I have. My grandmother’s been teaching me pillow lace. I’ve got balls of it in my bedroom.’ She didn’t tell the young man that the work had been done every Sabbath afternoon.
‘There’s your answer then. Tell your uncle you’re going to sell your lace in Nottingham.’
Eveleen blinked. ‘Can I do that?’
He shrugged. ‘There’s something called the Lace Market there. I ’spect it’s where folks sell their lace.’
Eveleen’s face brightened. ‘You’ve been?’
‘No, but I’ve heard talk about it.’
‘Do you think I might find work there?’
‘Dunno, but if you don’t there are big factories. They employ a lot of folks to work their machines. You could try them.’
‘Where are they?’
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