Another Man's Child

by Another Man's Child (retail) (epub)

  ‘Don’t let her get to yer. She’s a jumped up madam and I don’t suppose her son’ll be any different.’

  ‘Oh, he is. That’s why there’s no love lost between them.’ Molly wrapped one of Doris’s large white aprons about her waist and began polishing a brass statuette of the Greek hero Jason which usually stood in the dining room.

  ‘Give people a bit of power and it goes to their heads,’ muttered Doris darkly. ‘They think they’re as good as the king.’

  ‘Well, you’ve heard the rumours about him,’ murmured Molly.

  ‘Eddyweddy, who are yer taking to beddy? Talk about sailors having a woman in every port,’ said Doris with a giggle.

  ‘My husband was a sailor.’

  ‘Yeah, well, so are a couple of me brothers. No harm meant, Moll.’

  ‘No harm taken,’ she said, remembering that Frank had been a very physical lover. Too blinking physical sometimes. But each homecoming had been exciting. It was like being married all over again every time but he’d always brought her a present, making her feel special, and handed over her housekeeping. She felt that familiar tightness in her chest, remembering, and rubbed extra hard on the brassy curls framing Jason’s handsome features, trying to picture Frank’s good-looking face instead. To her dismay she couldn’t conjure it up and had to force herself to think of something else.

  She was polishing the front door bell when Nathan arrived. He was bareheaded and there was a smut on his cheek. His jacket was slung over one shoulder and his shirt collarless and unbuttoned at the throat. Molly was surprised by how pleased she was to see him but he looked vexed.

  ‘What the hell d’you think you’re doing?’ he said, frowning.

  ‘I’m polishing the bell.’ She paused, duster in hand.

  ‘Well, stop it. I don’t pay you to do that. I pay you to look after my daughter.’

  ‘You tell your mother that, Mr Collins,’ she said promptly, dropping the duster with glee. ‘She doesn’t listen to me.’

  ‘Well, she’ll listen to me.’

  Molly wiped her damp forehead with the back of a hand. ‘I wanted to take the baby for a walk but she says I’m not properly dressed and I should have a uniform.’

  He looked exasperated. ‘What’s she think I am? Made of money?’ He turned to a youth standing behind him, wearing the insignia of the Yorkshire & Lancashire Railway. ‘What are you gawping at, lad? Help unload that lot.’ He indicated with his head the handcart piled with a cardboard suitcase, a large toolbox, several bundles, Molly’s sewing machine and Jessica’s cradle.

  ‘I don’t think she intends you to pay for it,’ said Molly. ‘I told her I needed a pram, too.’

  ‘Well, it’s going to have to wait.’ He seized hold of his toolbox and heaved it off the cart. ‘Give us a hand here. You grab something.’

  Molly took one of the bundles. ‘Your uncle would probably buy one. He’s besotted with Jessica.’

  Nathan turned on her, face flushed with anger. ‘Don’t you dare go asking him for anything for her! She’s my daughter. Isn’t it enough that you’ve got me here? I’m not going to be able to call my life my own from now on.’

  ‘I’m sorry!’ Colour flooded Molly’s face but she was not going to take that lying down. ‘But excuse me, Mr Collins, you’re not here for me but for Jessica.’

  ‘Don’t answer me back,’ he muttered. ‘Just you remember, I’m your boss not them. Anything you need, you come to me.’

  ‘That’s why I’m asking you about the pram,’ she said, wondering if she had made a mistake in beginning to rely on him. But before he could respond to her words another voice spoke.

  ‘So you’ve arrived.’ Mrs Collins hung over the banister, seeming to hover above them like a bat. ‘Why aren’t you wearing a collar? You look like a workman.’

  ‘I am a workman, Mother.’ He stared at her from beneath dark brows.

  ‘Not any longer – and you’ve a smut on your face – and what’s that the lad’s carrying?’

  ‘A sewing machine. I should have thought you’d have seen one of them before.’

  She frowned. ‘Don’t speak to me like that! I’m your mother. What’s it doing here? What do I need a sewing machine for?’

  ‘It belongs to Mrs Payne.’

  ‘Her?’ The tone was scornful. ‘What’s she want with it? I wouldn’t have thought she’d have the brains to know how to use it. Anyway where’s she going to put it?’

  Brains! thought Molly indignantly. I’ve got more brains in my little finger than you’ve got in your whole body. I’ll show you, Mrs Collins!

  ‘It can go in the nursery for now,’ said Mr Barnes, coming out of his study and limping across the hall towards Nathan. ‘It’s good to see you here, lad.’

  Molly watched the two men shake hands. ‘I’ll do my best to match up to your expectations of me, sir,’ said Nathan stiffly.

  ‘I’m sure you will.’The older man clapped him on the shoulder. ‘But relax, lad. You’re not at the factory now. This is your home. Why don’t you go up and rid yourself of the dirt from the journey? I’ll send Doris up to run a bath for you.’

  ‘I’ll get rid of my stuff first, if you don’t mind, sir.’

  ‘Aye. You do what you think best, lad. Just remember, anything you want you only have to ask.’

  Nathan mumbled something that Molly could not catch before turning to the boy and ordering him to follow. He headed for the stairs and Molly hurried after them before Mrs Collins could do anything to prevent her.

  Molly was in the nursery with the boy when Nathan came in carrying Jessica’s cradle. He tipped the boy and told him to scram then glanced about him. ‘The sewing machine OK on that table?’

  ‘It’s fine, Mr Collins,’ she said politely.

  ‘So what are you planning on doing with it?’

  ‘Sewing.’

  ‘Sewing what?’ He brought his gaze back to her face. ‘You do know that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit? And you haven’t any big ideas still about working for my uncle in his factory, have you?’

  Molly smiled. ‘Not at the moment I haven’t.’

  ‘That’s OK then.’ He leaned against the cupboards. ‘Where’s my daughter?’

  ‘Your mother took her.’

  ‘You mustn’t let her do that.’

  ‘And how am I going to prevent her, Mr Collins? She’s your mother.’

  ‘I’ll speak to her.’ He straightened up. ‘She didn’t have Jessica with her when she came into the hall.’

  ‘Perhaps Cook’s got her.’

  ‘Go and look. I want to see her.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Collins.’ She moved towards the door.

  ‘Hang on. I’ve something for you.’ He hurried past her, reappearing a few minutes later with a pair of highly polished tan boots. ‘I thought you might like these. They belonged to my wife but she had hardly any wear out of them. I got rid of everything else but I thought you couldn’t go on wearing clogs here and these might fit you.’

  Molly took them from him, pleased that he should have thought of her, and tried the boots on there and then. They were a tiny bit too big but she only had to stuff some tissue paper or a rag in the toes and they’d be fine. ‘Thanks.’ She gave him a delighted smile.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ he said brusquely, waving her towards the door. ‘Go and find Jessica.’ She hurried off in the new boots and down the backstairs. As soon as she reached the passage leading to the kitchen, she could hear her daughter screaming and hurried to her child. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

  A scarlet-faced Cook said, ‘Thank goodness! I don’t know what the missus was thinking of, handing her over to me when I’ve dinner to prepare. But she was like this when she reached me. I haven’t done anything.’

  Molly took Jessica and rocked her in her arms but still she carried on crying. She checked her over and discovered one of the nappy pins had come undone and scratched her hip. ‘Poor love,’ she murmured, making it secure, puzzled as to how it had come undon
e as she was always careful with pins.

  Doris entered the room with an air of suppressed excitement about her.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ demanded Cook. ‘I needed you.’

  She sniffed. ‘I haven’t got two pairs of hands. The master told me to run a bath for young Mr Collins. I offered to scrub his back but he refused to let me.’

  ‘You never did!’ exclaimed Cook, scandalised.

  Molly’s lips twitched. ‘She’s having you on.’

  The older woman tut-tutted. ‘She shouldn’t be saying such things. But you take it from me, that air of tragedy he has tugs at the heartstrings. You mark my words, there’ll be wedding bells before we know it once word gets round he’s here.’

  Doris rolled her eyes, putting both hands over her heart and fluttering her fingers. Molly’s smile faded. ‘Why should he want to marry again when he’s got all he needs here? I can carry on looking after Jessica for him.’

  ‘Aye, well,’ muttered Cook, bustling over to the table, pan in hand. ‘I’ll only say a young man has his needs.’

  ‘Why don’t yer call a spade a spade and say he needs his oats served up every day?’ demanded Doris.

  Cook’s eyes bulged. ‘Your mouth! You shouldn’t be knowing about such things at your age!’

  ‘I’m over twenty-one. It’s better to know what the fellas are after than end up in trouble.’

  ‘Enough said,’ barked Cook, mouth working. ‘Get on with peeling those tatties.’

  Molly left the kitchen, feeling uneasy. What if Nathan did marry again and have more children? How would that affect Jessica’s position? She hadn’t done all this for Jessica to have her nose put out of joint by a second marriage. She sighed. What could she do to stop it? She braced her shoulders, remembering how he had wept for his wife, and was comforted.

  Molly was just settling the baby down to sleep when Nathan entered the nursery, his hair still damp from the bath. ‘Where did you find her?’ Molly told him what had happened and he gazed down at the child and touched her cheek. ‘She seems all right now.’

  ‘Of course she is. But it still puzzles me, how that pin came open.’

  He said nothing, stroking the baby’s cheek.

  ‘Why don’t you pick her up? She needs to get to know you better.’

  ‘I don’t want to hurt her.’

  Molly smiled. ‘Babies are tougher than you think.’ She picked up her child. ‘Hold out your arms.’

  He obeyed her, taking Jessica, weighing her in his arms. ‘She’s heavier than I thought.’ He placed a finger on the baby’s palm and her tiny fingers curled about it. She gurgled up at him and he smiled. ‘Look at that.’

  Molly was looking, thinking, This is the moment I prayed for. He’s fallen in love with my daughter.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ The voice was sharp and they both jumped.

  A muscle tightened in Nathan’s jaw as he turned and looked at Mrs Collins. ‘What d’you want, Mother?’

  ‘I heard the baby screaming. Just came to see if she was all right. Mrs Payne’s only young. What does she know about children?’ She darted a venomous look at Molly.

  ‘She’s doing all right so far.’ Nathan lifted the baby up into the air and smiled into her face. ‘You’re fine, aren’t you, lass?’The baby gurgled again, still clinging to his finger. ‘Look at that grip.’ He gave a shout of laughter.

  ‘All babies do that,’ said Mrs Collins disparagingly.

  Jessica’s gurgle turned to a whimper and Nathan hushed her, bringing her against him and rocking her gently.

  His mother looked far from pleased. ‘You’ll spoil her, you know. Put her back in the cradle,’ she demanded, moving towards him with a rustle of silk.

  ‘I haven’t spoilt her at all.’ His voice hardened and he held her closer. ‘Perhaps it’s time I did.’

  ‘Stuff and nonsense! Discipline, that’s what’s important. You’ll rue the day you took on this girl to look after your child.’ She flounced out of the nursery.

  Molly felt shaken and stared at Nathan. ‘You won’t rue the day, will you?’ she whispered. ‘I only want what’s best for Jessica.’

  ‘I know you do, Moll. Take no notice of my mother. She can’t help herself. She’s always been a jealous woman. Why I don’t know. I think it must be that she’s never got over my father’s death. He spoilt her rotten, so Uncle William said. He was a lot older than her. I can’t say I remember much about him.’ He handed the baby over to her and left the nursery.

  From that day on Molly expected trouble from Mrs Collins but the next day was reasonably peaceful because the older woman went to Southport and when she returned was kept busy because a guest was expected for dinner.

  When Nathan returned from his first day at the factory he came straight up to the nursery, pausing in the doorway when he saw Molly feeding the baby. ‘You’ll be getting your baby carriage. It’s to be delivered the day after next,’ he said, going over to the window and gazing out.

  ‘Thank you.’ She was delighted.

  ‘It’s for Jessica. There’s no need to thank me – and you must call me Mr Collins. And another thing, you must wear a uniform.’ His voice was stiff.

  ‘Yes, all right, I agree.’ She wondered what had made him change his mind.

  ‘It’s not for you to agree or disagree, Mrs Payne.’

  She stared at his ramrod-straight back and felt the colour rise in her cheeks. ‘Yes, sir, Mr Collins!’

  ‘Don’t make this hard for me,’ he groaned, still not looking at her. ‘All this kind of thing is as far from my upbringing as it is from yours. But just because we knew each other when we were young and went to the same school and I’ve been poor like you, we can’t carry on being familiar with each other.’

  ‘I didn’t know we were familiar?’

  ‘Don’t interrupt.’ He spun around, his eyes like steel. ‘I’ve rehearsed this and you throw me off my stride when you answer me back. For God’s sake, we’ve got to have a strictly regulated boss and employee relationship.’

  Suddenly she understood. First day at the factory. His uncle had probably been talking about such things as working relationships with the staff. ‘I understand, Mr Collins,’ she said, knowing the best thing was to pacify him.

  ‘I hope you do.’ His gaze met hers briefly, taking in the suckling baby before looking away again. ‘This uniform…’

  ‘I could probably run one up in no time if I could get the material.’

  ‘That’s what I was thinking, knowing you have the machine. Uncle William buys cloth by the roll for his suits from his partner in Leeds. He suggests you not only utilise one of the smaller back bedrooms for your sewing but that you make use of his material. There’s also a roll of cambric that would do you for waists… blouses… call them what you will. The fabric’s upstairs in one of the attics. You can go and have a look. The sooner the better if you want to wheel Jessica out.’

  ‘He’s a lovely man, your uncle.’There was warmth in her voice. ‘I don’t know why you ever took against him.’

  ‘He’s OK,’ he said, with a careless shrug of the shoulders, hands in his pockets. ‘His partner’s OK too. He’s a widower with one daughter, Charlotte. She’s involved with the suffragettes, the daft girl. Anyway, that’s the Braithwaites though I doubt you’ll be having much to do with them. Now I’ve to bath and change. There’s a Colonel Walker coming for dinner.’

  ‘He’s the oil merchant Mr Barnes gets his paraffin wax from. Has he any daughters?’

  Nathan looked surprised. ‘How the hell would I know or care?’ He went out, closing the door behind him.

  Molly smiled and began to hum ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ beneath her breath, thinking it was obvious he wasn’t interested in acquiring another wife. She looked forward to going up to the attics and delving into the treasures there. She would start sewing within the day.

  * * *

  Molly fingered the fine white cotton and decided to embroider flowers on the collar and
cuffs. It was her second waist and as she worked she sang softly, thinking of the trip she’d made to Madam Val Smith’s, a wholesaler’s in Liverpool. Artificial flowers, feathers, ribbons, veiling, straw and felt hats! What a pleasure it had been browsing there. The shop stood between Bunny’s departmental store and the new Woolworth’s where everything cost no more than sixpence.

  The city had been full of bustle, lifting Molly’s spirits. This was what she missed out at the house in Blundellsands. People, noise, and big shop windows to press her nose against while drooling over the contents: clothes and accessories, furniture and nick-nacks. She could not afford anything but enjoyed looking anyway. She had gone on to watch the Punch and Judy show on St George’s Plateau, thinking she would take Jessica there when she was older. After that she’d walked to the Pierhead to stare in wonder at the Royal Liver Insurance Building, still under construction. Architecturally it was not as pleasing as that of the Customs House with its pillars and dome. Old salts sat on the steps, smoking their clay pipes and telling far-fetched tales about sea monsters and natives on tropical islands to anyone who cared to listen.

  Molly had fed the seagulls with the remains of her packed lunch and bought an Echo for the return train journey. Then wished she hadn’t because there was a report of a Liverpool liner being in collision with an iceberg. Fortunately no lives were lost and it had managed to limp into port in Newfoundland. How she wished Frank’s ship had reached port! She wouldn’t be worrying about being parted from her daughter then.

  She was glad to arrive home, knowing Jessica was due for a feed and needing to reassure herself of the child’s safety. To Molly’s horror she found Mrs Collins trying to get Jessica to feed from a bottle but the child was refusing the teat and screaming. The woman slapped her right there in front of Molly who snatched her daughter away and screamed at her, saying she was cruel. Fortunately Mr Barnes arrived on the scene then or Molly did not know what might have happened. Doris was there so Molly hurried out with the baby, leaving him to deal with his sister and hoping Doris would explain. Nathan was in Leeds or Molly would have spoken to him about it. But she knew his mother would have it in for her even more now.