by Pat Herbert
Cynthia was two years younger than her sister, making her just twenty-two. She had been married for nearly a year to a man who was ‘something big in the City’; she knew no more of his doings than that. But that suited her fine, as long as there was money enough to enable her to enjoy these little outings.
“So, how is Charles?” Cynthia asked, sipping an elaborate aperitif, complete with a cherry on a stick and a piece of floating cucumber.
“Same as ever,” replied Daphne, watching her tackle her drink with amusement. She had settled for a less complicated dry martini.
“That’s good. Isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes. He’s always the same, is Charles. No trouble at all.”
“I hope you know you’re very lucky to have him,” her sister pointed out, swallowing the cherry and snapping the stick in half.
“I do, of course. But you know, it’s not enough.” Daphne looked sad for a moment.
Cynthia’s eyes clouded as she realised she had made a faux pas. “Oh, I’m sorry, my dear,” she said, touching her sister’s velvet-clad arm. “I was forgetting...”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Daphne, taking a delicate sip of her martini and gulping back a sigh at the same time. “Let’s order our luncheon, shall we?”
They studied the gold-embossed menu, aware of the awkward atmosphere that had arisen between them. Cynthia had indeed forgotten that Daphne’s dearest wish was to have a child. She had been married to Charles Moreland for six years, and they hadn’t been blessed in all that time. Daphne had consulted Harley Street specialists, but they could find no reason why she shouldn’t be able to conceive. Charles was the problem, she was sure, he had to be. However, she didn’t know that a young woman not a million miles away in North London could tell her a different story.
Chapter Four
“This is really good news, Edward. When did she come?”
Charles and his brother were seated in the latter’s parlour as the rain started to fall more heavily, making its presence felt against the window panes. Lydia had brought them tea, and Charles had the opportunity to study her again. Yes, he thought, she was a winning little creature. Maybe one day, quite soon, he would have the pleasure of getting to know her a little better. He stroked his moustache as he watched her leave the room.
“She is very charming,” he observed. “How long has she been here?”
“Oh, several years now,” Edward replied, stirring his tea. “She was at death’s door when I found her in a gutter in Wapping. Poor scrap, she could only have been about nine.”
“Poor, indeed. But she looks well enough now.”
“People who abuse those weaker than themselves should be severely punished,” said Edward vehemently, as if he was sermonising from a pulpit. “And men who take advantage of a child are worse than the vermin in the sewers.”
If there was a hint of a warning in his brother’s tone, Charles chose to ignore it. “Anyway, Edward, to the matter in hand. You said you definitely could offer me hope in your letter.”
“And I think I can. I picked up a young woman last week and brought her back here. I couldn’t turn my back on her, especially not with the child. I would never have forgiven myself. Neither would you, I’m sure.”
He gave Charles a knowing look. His brother would no more have cared what happened to a poor street walker than a fly on the wall. But the baby: now that was a different matter, altogether.
“Yes, yes. We all know how good you are to these women, and I appreciate what you are doing for me. Am I to meet the mother?”
“I think it best not,” said Edward. “Just take the child and leave as quickly as possible before she has time to know what’s happening. That’s my advice.”
“Have you mentioned what you are proposing to her?”
“No, Charles, I haven’t. You see, she is very much attached to it. You and I know the child will be better off in a home where it can have everything it wants, including the love of a mother and father such as you and dear Daphne. But it will be hard to take it away from her.”
“Yes, it’s a shame I suppose. But these women bring it on themselves by the life they choose to lead. They should be grateful that there are people like me and Daphne who can offer a good home to an unwanted child.”
“It’s a point of view, of course,” smiled Edward blandly. “Except I don’t think you’ll find this particular child is unwanted. Anyway, I’ll take you to Kitty who has charge of it.”
“Is it a boy or a girl, by the way? Not that it matters. Daphne will be overjoyed, whatever it is.”
“A girl, a very sweet baby, I think you’ll agree. It will grow into a beauty, if the mother’s looks are anything to go by. Does Daphne know about this, by the way?”
“No, I’m keeping it as a surprise. Does the baby have a name?”
“I’ve no idea. But you’ll probably want to name it yourself. Is the sum I mentioned in my letter acceptable to you, by the way?”
“It is a little excessive, Edward, but I am prepared to pay what you ask.”
“I wouldn’t charge you at all, but this place needs a lot of upkeep. The money’s not for me, you understand, but for these poor unfortunate women.”
Charles wasn’t fooled for a moment. He knew, or at least suspected, that his brother’s petition for money for the child wasn’t entirely altruistic. Did he make his money in this way, he now wondered. Selling the babies of poor, unfortunate women who had no means of supporting them, themselves? Anyway, it was of no concern of his. Any price was worth paying, just to see the look of joy on his wife’s face when he brought the little bundle home.
“But I’d still like to meet the young woman – just to reassure her that her child will be going to a good home,” he said.
Edward looked at his brother closely. “Do you really think that would be wise?”
“Yes, I do. We’re not brutes, are we? She needs to be handled gently.”
Edward was surprised at his brother’s display of sensitivity. It was a side of him he had rarely seen.
“Well, if you wish it,” he acquiesced finally. “This way then. I’ll take you to her.”
Lily Martin sat on her little bed, twisting her hanky in her hands, trying not to cry. Since arriving at Edward Moreland’s home she had lacked for nothing. She had eaten well and had even put on a little weight. The bloom had returned to her cheeks, and she was showing signs of the beautiful woman she once had been. This gave her no joy, however. Without her little girl, her life was blighted.
Far from returning her child to her, the old nursemaid had taken charge of Mary Josephine, allowing Lily only very limited access. Kitty told her it was for her own good. She needed time to herself, to get herself well. In the meantime, Mary Josephine would be cosseted and kept happy. Edward Moreland had told her this, as had Kitty herself. Even little Lydia reassured her that Mary Josephine would come to no harm. But she missed her so much. Why couldn’t she look after her, herself?
Just then there was a light tap on her door and Edward entered.
“Hello, Lily,” he said, smiling sweetly. “How are you today? You’re looking remarkably well, my dear.”
It was true. Even though her eyes were red-rimmed with crying, she looked very well, indeed.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, sniffing. “But I want my baby. Please mayn’t I have her back now? I’m sure I can look after her properly. Please!”
Edward was annoyed, as he hadn’t been expecting the young mother to still be pining for her child. She had been under his roof for almost a week, so he would have thought she would have grown accustomed to being without her baby by now. But he could see the maternal love shining out of her tear-filled eyes and felt pity stirring in his heart. He even began to think he should tell his brother the baby wasn’t for sale, after all. But he couldn’t do that. He had promised him, and he never broke his promises.
“I’m sure you think you can look after her, Lily,” he said in a soo
thing tone. “But it is no small thing to bring up a child. Your little baby needs a good home and parents who will love and cherish her.”
“I can love and cherish her best. I’m her natural mother!” wailed Lily, now beside herself.
“Now, now, dear,” said Edward, sitting on the bed beside her. “You mustn’t upset yourself. I’ve someone I want you to meet. He plans to adopt your baby, and he and his wife will bring her up as their own. You’ll be happy that she’s to be so well-cared for, won’t you?”
Lily’s face crumpled on hearing this. He could see she was about to scream the place down and that there was no reasoning with her. He ran out of the room, locking the door after him. She would have to stay in there until she calmed down, he thought.
Charles, who was waiting outside, stared at him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
He soon found out, as Lily’s screams and wails could be heard all over the house. The sound of her little fists beating on the door was almost too much for both men to bear.
“Let me out!” she screamed. “Give me my baby! I want to leave! Give me my baby! I hate you!”
The brothers retreated down the stairs, back into the parlour. Kitty, the baby in her arms, hobbled into the room, followed by Lydia and several other young women.
“Don’t be alarmed,” said Edward reassuringly. “Poor Lily has been told that her baby is going to a good home, but she doesn’t want to give it up.”
“No more she should!” said one of the young women. “She’s the poor mite’s mother. She’s every right to keep her own child.”
“Not if she can’t look after it properly,” Edward pointed out with authority. “The child deserves a better start in life. Would you deny it such a chance?”
Lydia spoke up then. “It belongs with its mother. You ain’t got no right to take it away from ’er, Mister Edward. You ain’t, really.” She was small, but she was feisty.
“Hear, hear!” echoed the other women in unison.
Kitty joined in now, as she hugged the baby close to her empty, sagging breasts. “I’m in charge of this child,” she declared, “and no one else has a right to it, only its natural mother.”
Edward sighed in exasperation and turned to his brother.
“We’d better let them calm down, Charles,” he said, leading him out of the parlour. “It’s only natural they should take the mother’s side.”
Left to themselves, the women huddled around Kitty and the baby.
“They’ll take the child over my dead body,” she told them.
Lily had been reunited with her baby for one last time. Edward had relented and let her hold Mary Josephine for a moment before wresting the child from her arms. Despite the protestations of the other young women, and that of old Kitty’s threatened corpse, Edward’s mind was made up. For the good of the child, he insisted.
Charles removed himself and the child from the household as quickly as he could, ignoring the shouts of “shame!” and “bastard!” that followed him down the stairs and out of the front door. He jumped into the waiting hansom and it sped off before any of his persecutors could catch up with him. Their anger was then directed back to his brother.
“How could you?” asked one young woman. “I thought you was a good gentleman, who had our interests at heart. Now we see you in your true colours, don’t we, girls?”
“Yeah,” agreed another of the women, who looked much older than the others. “Good for you, Rose. You tell him!”
“Get your hats and coats, then. Let’s go,” said Rose firmly.
Edward watched his bevy of young women with amusement. Where would they go? Where could they go, except back to the streets? They had life easy with him. He fed them, clothed them and found them gainful employment that didn’t involve adopting a horizontal position. They should be grateful, not turn on him like a pack of hounds.
“Hang on,” said the older woman who had backed her up with enthusiasm just a moment ago. “Where d’you suggest we go?”
Rose stood her ground. “Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I intend to go back on the streets. It’s more honest than sticking around here with this hypocrite.”
Some of the women nodded and muttered in agreement, although they made no move to leave. They were sorry for Lily, but it was clear they didn’t want to go.
“There’s no point in cutting off our noses to spite our faces,” said the older woman sagely. “It’d make no difference to Lily. Not now.”
Rose looked sadly at them. “All right,” she sighed. “I can understand. You don’t want to go back to that life. But this man here has betrayed one of us. Don’t that mean nothing to you?”
The young women looked from one to another and then they all turned to look at Rose. It was the older woman, Rose’s closest friend, Mabel, who spoke for them once more.
“It’s not right, we know it ain’t. But we’ve got a good billet here. You might want to go back to that life, but I certainly don’t. I’m getting too long in the tooth for it.”
Rose saw her point and, in fact, she was secretly wavering herself. “If that’s how you all feel, then I give in,” she said.
“You going on your own then, Rose?” asked Mabel artfully.
Edward, now confident his young women were going nowhere, turned and began to walk out of the parlour.
“You did a bad thing, Master Edward,” came a crackly old voice behind him.
He swung round to see Kitty glaring at him out of her old grey eyes.
“It’s none of your business, Kitty,” he snapped. “Am I, or am I not, the master in my own house?”
“That’s as may be,” she snapped. “But I would never have thought you’d do such a bad thing. You’ve broken that poor girl’s heart, you have.”
“Nonsense, Kitty. She’ll get over it.”
“No, Master Edward,” said Kitty sadly, “she’ll never get over it. Never in this world.”
Chapter Five
Charles Moreland arrived home at six that evening to find Daphne back from her shopping and lunch outing, several pounds lighter in purse, if not in weight. The crème brûlée had been just a bit too much, even for her gargantuan appetite. She had felt her waistline expand just looking at it. But her new hat was ravishing. Never mind how much it cost, it was worth it. And the button-up boots in soft white leather; they were a dream.
She was admiring herself in the mirror, adjusting the ribbons of her hat, as her husband entered the drawing room. “Hello, Charles. Come and look at my hat. Do you like it?” she purred. “Isn’t it a sight?”
“Yes, dear, it is,” he replied, with feeling. “But never mind your new hat, come and see what I have here.” He held out a little bundle which she could see at once contained some sort of living creature.
“What is it, Charles? Not another puppy? I keep telling you, I’m not keen on them. They bring me out in a rash, you know that.”
He had made futile attempts in the past to satisfy his childless wife with puppies and kittens but had always ended up having to find other homes for them. They were no substitute for what was really lacking in their lives, she said. Besides which, she had never been an animal lover.
As she moved towards the proffered bundle, she heard a sound she thought she’d never hear in her house: a baby’s cry. Her heart leapt.
“Charles!” she cried, taking the child from his arms. “Where on Earth? How on Earth? Oh my God, he’s beautiful!”
Her eyes were brimming with tears of joy as she cradled the precious child to her bosom.
“It’s a girl, actually,” he smiled. “But she is beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Who is she?”
Although she asked the question, she realised she didn’t want to know the answer. Whether it was an orphan or not, she didn’t care. As long as she didn’t know the circumstances that had brought about this miracle, she was happy. Whoever the baby had once belonged to, she didn’t know that person. Ignorance was certainly bliss
for Daphne Moreland at that moment. She had the baby she’d always craved and nothing else mattered. No more miserable canines to reject or mewing felines to kick out of the house.
Charles, for his part, was delighted to see his wife so happy. He was sure the baby’s provenance wouldn’t unduly concern Daphne now that she had the actual baby, so he told her the truth. He realised, almost at once, he shouldn’t have done so, as she pushed the child back at him.
“You can’t possibly take the child away from her mother!” she screamed at him. She couldn’t bear it. “How could you? I thought she was an orphan.”
“But, darling, this woman is only a prostitute,” he cajoled. “She isn’t fit to look after a baby. This child will have a much better chance with us. We’ll love and cherish it and see that it has the best of everything. She’ll get over it soon, you’ll see. Edward told me about the baby as soon as he could, knowing how much you – we – longed for a child. You can’t throw it back in his face now.”
Daphne slowly retrieved the baby and looked down at the little creature which was no longer crying but snuffling sleepily in her arms. All her maternal instincts came to the fore, and she was powerless to resist.
“Oh, Charles, what have you and Edward done?”
She sighed. How could she keep the child, now she knew the truth? Its place was with its natural mother. Then it tried to grab her finger, and her heart was full. There was no turning back now.
“She is so beautiful,” she said, “but I can’t help feeling sorry for the mother. I will send her a gift in recompense.”
“Yes, dear, you do that.”
Daphne started singing softly to the child, and Charles watched over her shoulder as the infant was lulled to sleep. They were a real family at last.
