‘They’re fighting the Paddy-Kellys now,’ said Jimmy, grinning. ‘There’re going to be a few sore heads in the morning.’
‘There’ll be some spending the night in the bridewell,’ said Cath. ‘I wonder what started it? Religion, I bet.’
‘Your Frank started it,’ raged Molly. ‘Just because Jack Fletcher spoke to me. And don’t look at me like that, the pair of you! I haven’t done anything.’ She stood up with George in her arms. ‘I’m taking him to bed now. If Frank comes in I don’t want to speak to him. He can sleep in a chair.’
‘I’m not telling him that,’ said Cath, rolling her eyes. ‘He’ll probably land me one and tell me to get out.’
The door knocker went and Molly hurried towards the stairs, calling over her shoulder. ‘I’m not answering that.’
But it was Charlie. Hearing his voice, Molly retraced her steps. ‘Frank’s been arrested,’ he gasped. ‘So’ve Rob and his dad and a couple of dozen others.’
‘Where’s Ma and Josie?’ asked Cath, exchanged a swift glance with Molly.
A grin lit Charlie’s face. ‘Josie was carted off, swearing like a trooper. Your ma was running alongside, aiming blows at the three scuffers trying to hold on to her. I’ll be off now. It is me wedding night after all.’
‘I am sorry, Charlie,’ said Molly stiffly. ‘It’s ruined your party.’
‘Naw! it livened it up. Reminded me of me early days in India. Tarrah! I’ll let meself out.’
‘I suppose I’d best go and see if Ma’s OK,’ said Cath reluctantly.
Molly hoped they’d put her mother-in-law in prison too. The troublemaker! She went upstairs with George, glad that tomorrow Frank would have a monstrous hangover. It served him right. At least her reckoning with him was postponed. But what was she going to do when it did come? How could she explain Nathan’s presence in the house the day George was born? Say that he was her cousin? He’d think it strange about her father having a brother she’d never even heard about? Was it in fact wise to hang around and wait for Frank tomorrow? She thought of Jack Fletcher, hit in the face on her behalf and clapped up in gaol. Just for speaking to her. She would have to wait and see how he was, at least.
She put George into his cot and stood there, holding his hand and singing Rock-a- bye-baby until his eyes closed. There were tear-stains on his face and she felt moisture in her own eyes. She wiped it away, thinking of Nathan. As she smoothed back George’s tangle of golden brown hair and said a prayer, she felt weighed down with worry all over again. Yet knowing that Nathan still cared for her helped a little bit. Even so there could be nothing between them. He had a wife, and besides it was too risky with Frank knowing what he did now.
She went downstairs and sat gazing into the empty fireplace, waiting for Cath to return. An hour passed and still she waited. Eventually she decided Cath wasn’t coming so she went to bed. She slept late and when she woke it was to the sound of church bells. She found George still sleeping so hurried into Cath’s room but her bed had not been slept in. Molly went to the dairy for milk then woke George.
It was noon and still Frank had not arrived home, so leaving George with her next-door neighbour, Molly walked to the bridewell in Athol Street to enquire after her husband and the Fletchers.
‘The bargees have been let out with a caution,’ said the policeman, leaning across the counter towards her. ‘But your husband’s been transferred to the cells at St George’s Hall. He’ll be appearing in court Monday morning.’ His voice was stern. ‘He put a good man in hospital with serious stomach injuries.’
‘One of yours, you mean?’ Molly was dismayed, feeling herself to be partially to blame.
‘Yeah, that’s right. And seeing he’s already got a black mark against him, he could be doing some time.’
It was a shock. Molly felt as if the room was spinning round and clung to the counter. ‘You OK, luv? You got kids? Anything we can do to help you and them?’ It was from this bridewell that help in the form of clothing and food was given to the poverty-stricken children of the area.
‘Only the one.’ Everything steadied around her. ‘If you could let me know what time and which court, I’d appreciate it?’
‘Not sure, luv. But there isn’t anything you can do for him so why don’t you go home and I’ll let you know what happens? Give us your address.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, managing a faint smile. ‘I’ll find out for myself.’ She thanked him and left the bridewell.
When Cath turned up later in the day she was looking very determined. ‘I’m in the doghouse,’ she said, ‘and it’s all your fault.’
‘Ma found out it was you who went for Mr Collins the day George was born?’ guessed Molly.
‘She had words with Mrs McNally at the wedding breakfast and it all came out.’ Cath frowned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me there was more to it than your talking to Mr Fletcher last night?’
‘I was too angry. Anyway, did she tell you why she didn’t tell Frank as soon as he arrived at the party?’
‘No. Perhaps she was delaying because she didn’t want to hurt him. I think it was Bernie who pushed her into it.’
‘That’s what I thought too.’ Molly tapped one foot on the oilcloth. ‘So where did you stay last night? You do know Frank’s got to go to court?’
‘At Jimmy’s mother’s. And, yes.’ Cath hesitated. ‘Will you be letting Mr Collins know what’s happened?’
Molly looked at her calmly. ‘Why should you think that? He’s a married man now. What kind of woman d’you think I am? When are you going to accept that, except for that one time, I’ve never slept with him?’
‘OK! I’m sorry,’ said Cath, flushing. ‘It’s just that—’
‘Just that nothing! And you can tell Jimmy I don’t want what’s happened to Frank getting back to Mr Collins. If he asks after me, tell him I’ve moved away.’
‘What!’
‘You heard me.’
Cath looked puzzled. ‘So you don’t love him?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘Where are you moving to?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’
‘Right.’ Cath twisted her fingers together. ‘If you’re moving, me and Jimmy would like this house. We’re fed up of waiting to afford a do so we decided last night to have a simple wedding and look for somewhere to live.’
Molly felt some of the strain ease, especially at the back of her neck. ‘That’s fine by me. Although I might not go just yet. I’ve made no definite plans.’
‘It doesn’t matter. I’m sure we can rub along together.’
‘Right. You two can have the double bed in the main bedroom and I’ll take yours.’
‘You mean it? Your bed!’ said Cath, incredulously. ‘What’ll our Frank say?’
Molly smiled wryly. ‘I doubt he’ll say anything to me. I won’t be hanging around waiting for him to smash me in the face.’
She stood up. ‘You hungry? I’ll do us something to eat then let’s try and forget things for a few hours.’
* * *
The following morning Molly caught a tram to Lime Street and managed to slip into the back of the courtroom at St George’s Hall. She was just in time to hear sentence being passed on Frank. He was to go to prison for three years’ hard labour for grievously harming a police officer.
Three years! Three whole years! Relief, guilt, regret, sorrow… Molly experienced all those emotions. She felt she should have been on trial along with Frank in a way. He’d been wrong to jump to conclusions and hurt Jack Fletcher and that policeman, but her behaviour in deceiving him had driven him to it. What should she do now? He surely needed support and he was her husband. She stared down at him as he was being escorted out of the court. At that moment he caught sight of her. The coldness and anger in his expression chilled her to the marrow.
The news of Frank’s sentence did not even make the Stop Press of the Liverpool Echo. Its pages were full of the unthinkable. A few hours after Mol
ly and Cath had discussed their plans the great liner Titanic sank after hitting an iceberg. All those working in the engine room lost their lives.
Life’s strange, thought Molly, as tears rolled down her cheeks, grieving for the newly dead and bereaved. If Frank had never gone to prison in the first place he might have been on that liner. Instead he was alive and she was still married to him. God only knew what he might do to her when he came out. She was just going to have to make sure he couldn’t find her.
Chapter Fifteen
‘What are you doing?’ demanded Cath.
‘What’s it look like I’m doing?’ Molly folded the blouse and placed it on the pile of clothing to be knotted in a sheet.
‘I thought you’d stay a bit longer. At least until me and Jimmy get married.’
‘Sorry.’ Molly lifted the bundle and made for the door.
Cath followed, clattering down the stairs behind her. ‘But why so soon?’
Molly placed the bundle next to another one of bedding in the kitchen. ‘I go into a shop and the conversation stops straightaway so I know they’re talking about me. I’ve caught snatches of the gossip on the street. “It’s always the quiet ones,”’ she mimicked one of her neighbours to perfection. ‘“And he’s such a luv’ly man. It’s all her fault, the little tart!”’
‘I know,’ said Cath unhappily. ‘Jimmy says it’s going round the factory too.’
Molly was horrified. ‘How? Surely he didn’t…?’
‘No, of course not! It’s more than his life’s worth. I’d clock him one. I reckon it’s Doris’s dad who knows about Mr Collins playing at vicars now. The way things are going it won’t be long before Mrs Collins gets to hear about it. Although they’re both in Leeds at the moment. Jimmy’s telling people there’s nothing in it but they’d rather believe there is. You know what they’re like.’
Oh, Lord! thought Molly despairingly, hoping it wouldn’t get back to their customers as well.
‘So where are you going?’ said Cath. Molly glanced at the clock.
‘Back where I came from. Jack Fletcher’s picking me up because I want to take my sewing machine – and the single mattress, if you don’t mind. I don’t want anything Frank paid for.’
Cath sighed. ‘Talk about history repeating itself. Jack’s coming here is going to give them something more to jangle about, too. Don’t forget his name’s been bandied around as well.’
‘He says he doesn’t care. That he’s flattered.’ Molly smiled for the first time in days.
‘Where’ll you stay?’
‘With Rob and Marie. Uncle Jack sleeps on the boat more often than not. Marie said she’ll look after George while I find a job.’
‘And I’m going to miss you,’ said Cath forlornly.
‘I’m going to miss you, too. Despite our not starting off on the right foot.’
For a moment they stared at each other and then they hugged. ‘If things don’t work out, you can always come back,’ said Cath in a muffled voice against Molly’s shoulder. ‘You can bet they’ll be tearing someone else’s reputation to shreds by next week.’
Jack and Rob arrived ten minutes later. Molly was aware of the neighbours watching and muttering amongst themselves as the two men carried out her possessions. Jack shouted, ‘Hasn’t thee anything better to do?’
A couple sniffed and went indoors.
Jack, Molly and George were just about to turn the corner into Latimer Street when Mrs McNally came tearing after them. ‘Why didn’t yer come and say tarrah?’ she panted. ‘Here, take this.’ She handed Molly a newspaper-wrapped parcel. ‘They’ll do for yer teas.’ Molly was suddenly near to tears and she hugged her. ‘There now, girl, we all make mistakes,’ said Mrs McNally roughly, patting her back. ‘You just take care of yourself and little George. And don’t forget, my door’s always open to yer whatever my fella might say.’ She waved until they were out of sight.
Rob had hung a swing from a pair of hooks embedded above the cabin doorway and George pattered over to it. He was soon swinging back and forth, singing away like a chirpy little sparrow.
At least he seems unaware of the big changes in our lives, thought Molly thankfully. She gave the swing a push every now and then as warehouses gave way to housing. They came to Bootle and she thought of Frank incarcerated in prison and tried not to feel guilty, telling herself that perhaps she was taking too much of the blame on her own shoulders.
Housing gave way to fields and the air was sweet except when they passed the Litherland tannery where a barge was tied up unloading animal hides. ‘Pooh!’ said George, pulling a face.
Jack called her down into the cabin to have a bite to eat and a cuppa. She slid past George and gazed about her with pleasure. The interior contained a range for cooking and heating, a cupboard with a folding table and long seats at the sides. At the forward end, hidden by crochet-work curtains, she knew there was a folding crossbed. There were ample cupboards and lockers. No space was wasted and it was all decorated with paintwork and graining. She thought Nathan would be interested in that. She liked the lace plates and shining brasswork best.
‘How snug you are here, Uncle Jack. I envy you,’ said Molly, accepting a doorstepsized bacon butty from him.
‘Well, thee’s always welcome to come for a ride with me anytime. Thee knows that, lass.’ His expression made her feel slightly uncomfortable and she was glad when Rob called down for someone to bring him a cuppa and a butty at the wheel.
* * *
The house where Marie and Rob lived backed on to the canal. The tiny bedroom Molly was to share with George overlooked a garden where potatoes, onions, cabbages and carrots had already been planted. They would sleep on the floor on the single mattress. For now her sewing machine was of no use to her. Molly needed to earn money some other way before she could think of finding customers and sewing from home. Hadn’t she tried that before when last she was here? Her heart ached as she remembered those days when she had her daughter with her and saw Nathan most days.
She found herself a job repairing grain sacks, Ainscough’s flour mill being conveniently situated next to the canal a few minutes’ walk away, which meant she could see George at lunch time. The mill was lit by electricity, powered by a gas engine. She thought of Nathan and his plan one day to produce electrical fittings for churches and wondered if it would ever get off the ground. She could only hope the scandal she was running away from would not ruin his business.
A couple of the older women she worked with remembered her mother. ‘Married one of the May twins. Now they were a match all right.’
‘My father was a twin?’ Molly was astounded, wondering why nobody had ever mentioned that to her.
‘Aye, that’s right.’ The woman smiled. ‘Mabel went out with one, Hetty Barnes with t’other. She would have married Tom if he hadn’t died young. Followed him all the way to Colne she did to get a job near him. Broke her heart it did when he died. She went a bit queer afterwards and her family brought her home. Threw her cap then at your ma’s fella and then there was an almighty row. It caused quite a stir at the time because there was gossip going round, but old Collins married her so she was OK.’
So that was why her mother and Mrs Collins had fallen out, thought Molly. But what about the baby Nathan’s mother’d talked about? Why had marrying old Collins meant she was OK? Could she have been pregnant? Whose baby was it if she was? For a moment Molly went hot and cold, wondering if she and Nathan shared the same father. Then she remembered Mrs Collins rambling on about them taking her baby away from her. So perhaps she had been pregnant but her husband had got rid of the baby? If that was so Nathan was truly Mr Collins’s son. Molly felt weak with relief. It explained a lot and she found herself feeling unexpectedly sorry for Nathan’s mother.
Molly relaxed and carried on with her work. It was easy, too easy, but the sacking rough so that sometimes it split the skin down the sides of her fingernails. She did not complain but rubbed lard into her hands when she hurried ho
me to see her son. He cried after her for the first few days and that upset her but Marie was like her mother in that she stood no nonsense and soon he settled down and made friends with the other children in the street.
Molly’s days fell into a routine that was undemanding if tedious. On Sundays she took George to church, determined to try and get herself back on to the straight and narrow. There she met Em. Molly had forgotten that she went to St John’s.
‘So you’re back?’ she said, catching up with Molly in the churchyard. ‘It’s nice to see you, lass. How are you doing?’
‘OK.’ Molly flashed her a smile, glad that Em did not hold their last disagreement against her. Yet still she worried that the older woman might have guessed she’d swopped the babies so wanted to be on her way. But Em was not going to let her slip away so quickly.
‘What a lovely little boy. Yours, is he? You remarried?’
‘Yes… no!’ Molly was flustered. ‘My husband was found and came back. He’s back at sea now. You’ll have to excuse me, Em, I’ve got to go.’ She hurried away.
Molly did not return to church for a few weeks but eventually felt a need to be there in the old familiar setting, to sing hymns and find comfort and challenges in the words of the liturgy as she sought forgiveness and peace with God. But she always sat in a back pew so she could get out quickly and avoid Em. As for George, he started in the tots class at Sunday School.
She was kept informed about what was happening to Cath and the McNallys as Marie went at least once a week to visit her mother. From one such trip to Liverpool she returned with the news that Cath and Jimmy were at last getting married and Molly was invited. Also that Mr Collins had called at the house several times.
Molly’s heart missed a beat. She longed to see Nathan but knew she could not chance going to the wedding in case he attended in the hope of seeing her. So she told Marie to say thank you and give them her best wishes. She would have sent a gift if there had been money to spare but that was something in very short supply. Her son was sprouting up and after giving Marie their keep there was little over. As it was she had to pawn the green suit she’d made for the lunch she’d never attended in order to buy him a pair of shoes.
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