Lily had a lump in her throat again. They went forward a few paces before Nanna added, ‘Anyway, I had a feeling as she loved this man, your father. Had a feeling she was still seeing him.’
Lily drew in the cold air with a quick breath. ‘I think she still does.’
She could not tell Nanna about the night visitor to the house. Instead she said, ‘The shop doesn’t take a lot but we pay our bills. I used to think we were always in debt. We are not. Mam gives me money every week to buy food and pay the coalman.’
‘And you think someone else is paying for it?’
Lily felt the shiver again. ‘I’m sure we’re being kept.’
‘Your Mam’s busy, doing all that sewing. You could be wrong.’
‘Nanna! There are twelve dressmakers and tailoresses in Macclesfield. None of them’s rich. Mam is not trying to get by on what she earns. Or on fifteen shillings a week. That’s what a man has to pay. Fifteen shillings for every bast …’ She couldn’t finish. But she made up her mind there and then that it must stop. When she could, she would take over all the household expenses: pay the rent, buy the coal, pay Seymour Mead’s. If her suspicions were right – if her father was keeping Mam and herself, and not making himself known – Lily could not bear it. If he was alive and he had no children he must not want her. She and Mam wouldn’t be kept any longer.
They slithered along the lane. It was growing darker and Nanna peered into the distance every few steps, anxious for Grandpa’s safety. She said, ‘There he is!’
Lily could just make out Grandpa’s shape, walking and leaning on his stick, under the trees ahead. The road was slippery and he was slow.
‘Don’t say anything more,’ Nanna said urgently. ‘No more. I will tell your mam.’
‘No, Nanna!’ Nanna must not say anything. ‘I’ll tell her myself. When I’m ready. I don’t want her to know that I know.’ When the time was right she’d tell Mam. She was not afraid. She’d wait for the right moment.
‘All right. Let me get to Grandpa.’ Nanna went ahead, her sturdy feet crunching firmly in spite of her rheumatics, into the frosty grass verge.
Lily stood for a few minutes watching and waiting before she heard a motor car rounding the corner. It was the Hammonds’ Daimler, with Mr Hammond at the wheel. Lily stepped back to give him room to pass, but he drew up alongside. Sylvia and Magnus were in the back, Sylvia wearing her school uniform of navy-blue coat and hat, her blonde hair tied back. Magnus had his elbows on his knees, face in his hands.
Sylvia wound down the window. ‘Lily, we called at Lindow to ask you to come to Archerfield with us. Will you come?’
Magnus glanced at her. His face was chalk white. He didn’t speak a word. Lily hesitated, peering ahead to where Nanna and Grandpa were approaching. Sylvia whispered, ‘Please, Lily …’
‘Yes.’ Nanna and Grandpa had come to stand beside her.
Sylvia opened the door and held it wide. Lily said to Nanna. ‘Sylvia wants me to go to Archerfield.’ But Mr Hammond had left the engine running and got out of the car.
‘How will I get back?’ she asked Sylvia. ‘It will be dark soon and I can hardly keep on my feet as it is.’
‘I’ll bring you back, Lily.’ Mr Hammond put a hand beneath her elbow. ‘Sylvia needs your company this evening.’
Nanna nodded. Mr Hammond started to speak to Grandpa and Nanna as Lily climbed in to sit next to Sylvia. She turned and stuck her head out of the open window only to see Nanna’s hands fly to her mouth, as they did when she heard something dreadful. Grandpa put his hand to his ear to cut out the sound of the running engine. ‘What was that?’
Mr Hammond was repeating what he had just said, louder this time. ‘There has been an accident in Macclesfield. Mrs Chancellor. She must have slipped. Fell on to the line under the London train.’
‘God save us!’ Grandpa said. ‘Is she … ?’
‘Died instantly,’ Mr Hammond said. ‘Mrs Hammond’s doing what she can. Magnus and I have to go back. Sylvia didn’t want to be left in the house alone.’
Nanna said, ‘If there is anything you want me to do …’
Mr Hammond returned to the driver’s seat, and with a nod in Grandpa’s direction, let in the gear. The Daimler headed for Archerfield, and Lily felt an icy hand of fear clutch her heart. Nanna’s prophecy had come true. Three deaths: Mollie, Mrs Willey-Leigh, Mrs Chancellor.
Later Lily would come to see this day as a turning point in their lives, but now she sat in silence, waiting for Sylvia or Magnus to speak, waiting to hear from her friends’ lips what had happened in Macclesfield.
Sylvia told a maid to bring food up to the old schoolroom. Padded armchairs replaced the old wooden ones. There was a fire, the lamps were lit, the maid brought in the wheeled trolley, and when the girl had gone Sylvia thumped down into a chair and stared at the flames. ‘Serve it, Lily. I can’t.’
Spread before them was the most tempting feast Lily had seen since her last visit to Archerfield. There were sandwiches and bread and thick slices cut from a roast rib of beef, with mustard, pickled cucumbers and cheeses on a huge platter. There was a pile of pikelets and oatcakes – Macclesfield’s crumpets and oat pancakes – with toasting forks and a slab of butter beside them. There was honey and raspberry jam, scones and fruit cake.
Lily could not wait a minute longer. ‘May I start?’ she asked. ‘Will you pour the tea?’ Not until she’d eaten a sandwich, loaded a toasting fork and held it up before the glowing coals did she ask Sylvia, ‘What happened?’
Sylvia poured for them and leaned back in her chair, gazing into the fire. ‘They were going to be Mayor and Lady Mayoress,’ she said. ‘They were so proud. But Lily … I can’t believe it was an accident. She was out of her mind.’
‘Mrs Chancellor?’
‘Mama and she have been friends for years.’ Sylvia looked into the distance. ‘Mrs Chancellor was madly in love with Father, you know. Mama never guessed but I could tell by the way she looked at him.’
She fell silent again, and Lily prompted, ‘What happened?’ She passed Sylvia’s cup. ‘Drink this. You’ll feel better.’
Sylvia drank a little, placed the saucer on the arm of the chair and leaned forward, talking in a fast, nervous little voice. ‘Last week Mama and I went to Park Lane. Mrs Chancellor looked awful. She said Mr Leadbetter was telling dreadful lies claiming that Ray had raped Mollie.’
Sylvia paused, then, ‘A boy has to marry the girl if she’s expecting his baby. Mr Leadbetter said, “Ray has to marry our Mollie”.’
‘What did Mrs Chancellor say?’ Lily sat at the table as Sylvia talked, eating her way through the vast meal, barely tasting a thing, thinking about Mollie, thinking how it must have been for Mam – and trying to fill the aching hole inside herself with the warm comfort of food.
‘She was in tears, but she said, “Ray has never heard of the girl. How could he have?”’
But Lily had a logical brain and could not help but think how they could have met. ‘Mr Chancellor owns Mr Leadbetter’s shop,’ she said. ‘Ray could have collected the rents.’
Sylvia couldn’t bear for Lily to have doubts. Tears sprang to her eyes, making Lily say quickly, ‘I don’t mean to say that he has done anything wrong, Sylvia. Only that he could have met Mollie …’
‘Ray’s not capable of low behaviour. He’s religious, like his mother. And a bit snobbish. A simpleton like Mollie Leadbetter would have held no interest for him. Couldn’t have!’ She lifted her tea cup then put it down again. ‘There was a terrible row. Mrs Chancellor demanded that Mr Leadbetter make a public apology, beg hers and Ray’s pardon. She said Ray would not do a wicked, sinful thing. Mr Chancellor stopped her and said, “No matter who it was, Mollie will have to be seen to.” Then Mr Leadbetter said he had no money, so Mr Chancellor gave him twenty-five pounds and said it was out of concern for the Leadbetters. Mrs Chancellor told us that, then she turned on him – on Mr Chancellor. She lost her head and started to scream, “Don’t give him a pen
ny! I can’t have Ray’s name associated with this evil thing.” But Mr Chancellor insisted that they give Mr Leadbetter the money. He said it didn’t mean they were covering up for Ray. Then Mrs Chancellor flew out of the room, shouting, “Ray has done nothing wrong. Call in the lawyers! I want to see my lawyer.”’
Sylvia put down her tea cup. Her eyes were full of tears and her words came tumbling. ‘Mollie died … Operation in Manchester … Came home … Something went wrong.’ She leaned back in her chair, her face white, her china-blue eyes staring into the distance.
Cold shivers trickled down Lily’s spine. She reached over to touch Sylvia. ‘Just tell me slowly, Sylvia. Tell me what happened today.’
Sylvia held on to the chair’s arm, sitting bolt upright. ‘Mama, Father and I were going to the station to meet Magnus. Father said he’d drop Mama and me in Park Lane. We were to tell Mrs Chancellor that none of us believed the terrible rumours that are flying round town. Father said to tell her that if he heard anyone repeating the vile things he would take very strong action. Father would meet us at the station …
‘… When we arrived, Mrs Chancellor was distraught, pacing the Chinese carpet, back and forth, crying out, “My darling boy is coming home. He’s coming home to face them.” Then she stopped walking and began to cry. “There’ll be an inquest. Ray will be blamed.”
‘Mama tried to calm her, saying, “Nobody will blame Ray. Please, Sarah! Don’t get into such a state over a little hussy who dies through her own cheap, brazen behaviour.” It had no effect. Mama tried to be stern and said, “Pull yourself together!” but Mrs Chancellor paced up and down again, saying, “Leadbetter has written to Ray’s headmaster. He’s been to the police, accusing us of forcing his daughter to have an abortion.” She threw herself on to a chair and dashed a handkerchief to her eyes, then said to me, “I’m sorry, Sylvia. Sorry you are hearing such things at your age.”
‘Mama said, “The sooner Sylvia learns about such things, the better.” Mama is so very practical, you know, Lily.’
Lily could well imagine Mrs Hammond saying that Mollie had brought it on herself with her brazen behaviour. Thank God Mrs Hammond did not know the truth about Lily’s own illegitimacy. Her stomach churned. ‘Then what?’
‘Mrs Chancellor was tearing her handkerchief to shreds, but she stopped the awful crying and said, “Come to the station with me to meet Ray. My husband” – she never refers to him by name – “my husband phoned the school yesterday, demanding that they send Ray home early. For the mayoral inauguration, we said, but they’d have received Leadbetter’s wicked letter.” Then she was in tears again, and Mama nodded to me. Mrs Chancellor threw her arms about my neck. “Come to the station. Ray will be frantic in case anyone thinks …”
‘“We are going to the station to meet Magnus.” Mama said. “They will both be on the same train.”
‘We went in Mr Chancellor’s car. Mrs Chancellor wrung her hands and every now and again took half a dozen quick breaths. Father was waiting but Mrs Chancellor wouldn’t speak a word. She stared at us all with a strange expression on her face that I had seen before. She kept looking at Father with the look of love in her eyes that I recognised.
‘It was freezing. The wind tore down the platform where the mothers were holding on to their coats and hats. I was silent, my coat collar about my ears, hat elastic clamped tight under my chin, asking myself if they could go on to be Mayor and Mayoress after this.
‘The train was late. Magnus was on it. There was no sign of Ray. Magnus said they had travelled together as far as Manchester but Ray wanted to walk across to London Road station for the Macclesfield train. The Edinburgh train comes in at Exchange and Magnus has to go by taxi because of his ankles. Father was so kind and gentle to Mrs Chancellor. But whatever he said seemed to make her worse. She didn’t speak. We all waited for the next train. And Ray wasn’t on it. People were staring at us all – we are all so well known.
‘Mr Chancellor was furious by this time. He kept going to the station master’s office, enquiring and all the time getting increasingly angry, and ignoring his poor wife, who was shaking with cold and looking ill. “He can’t have missed the blasted train!” he kept saying, louder every time he repeated it. “Ray knows why he’s been sent for. What’s he playing at?”
‘It was an hour before the next train came. This one was crowded but Ray wasn’t on it, and again we had to wait. Mrs Chancellor’s whole body was shaking by this time and Mama and I were standing close to her in case she fainted. She still would not speak and Father was making it worse, I thought. He kept holding Mrs Chancellor’s shoulder to comfort her, saying, “Oh, Sarah dear. Oh my poor, dear Sarah!” But we waited, and waited, and all the while it grew darker and the far end of the platform could hardly be seen. At last we heard it coming … and, Lily … !’
Sylvia put her handkerchief to her eyes. Lily put a hand on Sylvia’s arm. ‘Don’t tell me if it makes you cry.’
‘I must.’ Sylvia took a great gulping breath and after only a few seconds told the rest, very fast. ‘Ray was not on that train. We were freezing, sick with cold. And we daren’t leave. You don’t know how awful it was. We could not leave Mrs Chancellor. We couldn’t say, “Sorry, we have to go!” so we waited until the last person had gone. Then Mrs Chancellor went wild. She ran the length of the train, crying, “He’s not here! I can’t find my boy!” Mama grabbed her arm and held her back. “Wait for the next one, Sarah.” But she pulled free and set off again towards the front of the train. Mr Chancellor stamped about saying, “It’s going to cost more than money. We’ll be ruined. Wait till I get my hands on Ray. I’ll–”
‘Mama gave her attention to him in case he thought Ray was afraid of facing the music. While all this was going on the station master blew his whistle, the guard waved his green flag, the engine pulled away and the guard’s van disappeared into the tunnel.
‘My eyes searched frantically for Mrs Chancellor but I realised she’d gone. She hadn’t come back up the platform once she reached the engine. The engine stops a few yards from the tunnel entrance. I broke out in a cold sweat, grabbed Mr Chancellor’s arm and shouted, “Find your wife! Hurry! Please! I think she’s in the tunnel.”
‘He said, “What? Where is she?”
‘“She went down the platform. Into the tunnel!” I could hear myself screaming. He didn’t hear what I was saying until Mama came and shook me by the arm. I pushed her away, took Mr Chancellor’s arm and yelled again, “Your wife! Your wife’s in the tunnel!”
‘He looked startled. Angry. Then fear came flickering into his eyes and he said her name, “Sarah?” Then louder, “Sarah!” He drew away and ran to the station master, shouting, “My wife’s in the tunnel.”
‘The station master blew his whistle hard and porters came rushing from everywhere, grabbing lanterns, leaping down on to the line to cross over. They pushed Mama and me into the ladies’ waiting room, and everywhere people were shouting and running. As soon as Mama was seated and had put her head back and closed her eyes I went out and followed the men. And then I heard, from a long way down the tunnel, a man’s voice saying, “Don’t let her husband see this, for God’s sake!” But Mr Chancellor was there. I heard him saying, “She must have fallen on to the line. It was an accident.”
‘Two porters came out of the tunnel on to the platform. One leaned over the line, clutching his stomach before he was violently sick, whilst the other man held him back from toppling over. The second porter said, “That were nay accident, mate. Nay accident …”’
Magnus, sitting in the Daimler, noticed Father’s hands tight on the wheel. His face was grey. Magnus had never seen his father look like this, even when Grandfather died. He loved being with Father, whom he admired above all men. He said, ‘There is not a lot we can do. Do you think we should offer to stay at Park Lane overnight?’
‘I expect he’d rather be left on his own,’ Father said. ‘If anything like that ever happened to me …’ He had tears in his eye
s. ‘I don’t think I could go on without your mother.’ He caught his breath. They drove in silence for another couple of miles. Then, ‘You OK? Had some food?’
‘I’m all right. Cook gave me soup and cold stuff.’
Father was quiet for a few minutes, then, ‘Did Ray say anything on the journey? Did he know why he’d been sent for? Did he give any indication?’ He glanced at Magnus here. ‘We can’t be sure the poor boy knew what he was being accused of.’
Magnus, remembering the trouble Ray was in at school and one never kicked a chap who was down said, ‘It was as much a shock to him, Father, as it was to …’ He saw the relief on his Father’s face.
Father put a hand up. ‘I don’t want to hear any more. I’m sorry if, by asking, I have given you the idea I had any doubt.’
Magnus stared into the darkness ahead and said nothing. He had lied to his father, but he was tired after the long, terrible day.
At seven o’clock that morning Magnus, carrying an overnight bag, had arrived at Edinburgh’s Waverley station to catch the train to Manchester. It was cold. There were few people about and he did not see Ray until he came out of the booking hall.
‘Over here, Magnus!’
Looking along the platform Magnus spotted Ray sitting surrounded by luggage. On the telephone to Mother and Father last night Magnus had been told about this dreadful business with the Leadbetter lass.
Ray called to him, ‘Find a porter. Give him half a crown, will you? See if he can find first-class seats for us.’
‘I’m travelling second,’ Magnus said.
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