PART TWO
A CHANGE OF HEART
1884
One
Some days had passed during which Bridget had done a great deal of thinking and life seemed to have fallen back into its old routine: she met her agent; and she saw to business where she thought it was necessary, and part of her business was to visit Lily. She was worried about Lily, for, as Mrs Leary had said to her confidentially, it was unnatural that the girl wasn’t crying and had never shed a tear, not to her knowledge.
Then there was Douglas. She had not seen him since he had accompanied her home after her last visit to Joe. Although she was somewhat surprised at this, she again told herself that he, too, was in business and so couldn’t spend his days in social visiting.
One good thing, however, had transpired over the past few days. Last evening Victoria had called and apologised for her outburst, the while declaring how much she had missed her, and that Lionel had returned from London the previous day and there seemed to be the promise of an appointment in the offing. It had something to do with shipping, and was connected with cargoes. But he didn’t look well, he had a severe cold. And at parting Victoria had put her arms around her and surprisingly said, ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t you still to come to.’ So things were definitely back to normal, as normal as they would ever be after the past few months.
Today she had gone by train into Newcastle. Danny had driven her from the house to the station, but as she didn’t know what time she would return she had told him she would take a cab. And that’s what she was now doing, but not to go back home for she was once again making her way to Lily’s house, to tell her the plans she had arranged for her future.
After alighting from the cab she asked the cabby to wait: she could be fifteen minutes or a little more, and the man assured her he would wait as long as she wished. For once she found Lily alone, and of this she was glad, for now she would have no need to say to the kindly but voluble neighbour that she wished to speak to Lily on a matter of some business.
She began as usual by saying, ‘How is the baby?’ It was no use asking, ‘How are you, Lily?’ because Lily’s face expressed totally how she felt, numb, dead within herself.
And Lily answered as usual, ‘He’s fine, miss. He’s fine.’
‘Come and sit down, Lily.’ She took the hand of what had been only a short time ago a happy young girl, but who now appeared like a life-weary woman, and she said, ‘Sit down. I have something I want to discuss with you. First of all, have you thought about what you are going to do?’
‘Yes, miss, go back to the factory.’
‘But what about the baby?’
‘I’d have to put him out to nurse. Mrs Leary would look after him.’
‘Mrs Leary is a very good woman, I know, Lily, but she and her family are of a roughish type and children are very impressionable, even babies, and I’m sure Joe would have wanted the best for your child.’
As she watched Lily’s head droop onto her chest, she said softly, ‘We must mention his name, Lily. He would want that, he wouldn’t want to be forgotten.’
The head came up with a jerk. ‘He’ll never be forgotten, miss, never! Nor what’s happened him.’
‘I know. I know. Well, now, I’ve got a proposal to make to you. As you know, I’ve always had Joe’s and your welfare at heart, and so what I would like to do is for you to take up a position in my household. It may not be work that you have been used to but I’m sure you would soon learn. Your child would be brought up in a different atmosphere and I would see to his education and…’
She almost toppled backwards with her chair, as the table was thrust towards her by the violent movement Lily made in rising from her stool; and now in amazement she watched the young woman turn to the cradle, then grab up her child and stand holding it pressed tightly to her, as she almost yelled, ‘In your house at Milton Place! Near him! Where he could drop in…with your cousin? No! No! No!’ Now she swung round and her body seemed almost to bend in two over the child, and she was gasping as she cried, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But no, no way. Thank you, no way.’
Slowly Bridget walked round the table and, stopping in front of Lily, put her arms about her shoulders, so bringing her up straight, and in a low voice she said, ‘What did you mean by that, Lily?’
‘Nothin’, miss. Nothin’. It just came out. Nothin’.’
‘Don’t tell me “nothing”. Look at me. Look at me straight in the face.’
When Lily raised her head and looked her straight in the face they both remained silent while Bridget’s mind was actually gabbling, Him! He’s the father? Dear God! Him…And Joe must have known.
When she eventually spoke she could hardly recognise her own voice, such was the fierce anger in its tone: ‘Mr Filmore, my cousin’s husband, he is the father of your child? And…and that’s why Joe wouldn’t mention him? He told me he knew who it was. Oh, why, why didn’t he speak out?’
Compared with her own, Lily’s voice sounded calm as she answered, ‘’Twouldn’t have been any use. ’Twas nothin’ to do with it, I mean with what happened to Fred. And…and he wanted to save you and Miss Victoria trouble, as she was about to be married. But mostly he didn’t want you to be troubled. ’Tis done now, ’tis done. But you see, miss, although I thank you for your concern an’ all you’ve done, I could never go and live with you, no matter what you could do for the boy. Though it would have been a good chance for both of us. But now, miss, I think you must do what Joe did and keep mum, because if you don’t there will be more lives spoilt. What happened was as much my fault as anybody’s. I was a stupid, ignorant girl, but as I’ve come to look at it, God works in a strange way because through it I got Joe, even for a short time, I got Joe. Oh, miss—’ She quickly put the child back into the basket and it was now her turn to support Bridget, saying, ‘Sit down, miss, sit down.’
Bridget sat down and, leaning her elbow on the table, she cupped her face in her hands. She felt strangely ill, not only at the revelation that Lionel Filmore was the father of the child lying there in the wash-basket, but also by the dreadful feeling of hate that was consuming her at the thought of what he had done to a young girl, a young ignorant working girl. What chance would she have had against such as him? Apart from his pseudo charm and power of persuasion, there was his strength.
‘Would you like a cup of tea, miss?’
‘Yes. Yes, thank you, Lily. I think I would.’
When Lily went into the scullery she turned slowly and looked down on the infant now lying in the cradle again. This was his son. What would happen if she were to confront him with the knowledge and tell him that such knowledge had put paid to their agreement? She knew what would happen: he would likely lead Victoria one hell of a life. But what would Victoria’s response be to the knowledge? Would she leave him? She doubted it. She would likely, as so many other women before her had done, come to accept it as part of a man’s privilege during his bachelor state. But, on the other hand, what if she decided to leave him and come back to her? Would she want that? No. No.
That was strange thinking; but she wouldn’t want Victoria back into her life. Her marrying could be likened to the passing of the responsibility of a daughter on to someone else. Her own life was much freer now, and it would have been over the past months too but for the trauma attached to Joe’s imprisonment and his final end.
Well, there was one thing sure already in her mind, she could no longer live within visiting distance of Victoria and listen to her prattling about her coming child. And were he to accompany her at times, as very likely he would, she would not be accountable for her own reactions.
Another thought entering her mind begged an explanation; and she put it to Lily, who had just placed the thick china cup of tea in front of her.
‘Did…did he know about your condition, Lily?’
‘Oh, yes, miss, he knew all right. I…I wrote him a letter because I was frightened. I felt me da would turn me out in the s
treet an’ it would just be the workhouse for me. So, as I said, I wrote him a letter an’ told him where I would be one Sunday. He came on his horse and gave me a bag with five sovereigns in it and said that was that. Then he rode off. And I knew I had no place to put the money, in fact I didn’t know what was in the bag, so I dug a hole in the hedge an’ hid it there. Then, to tell you the truth, miss, I nearly jumped out of me wits when Joe caught up with me near the factory an’ he handed me the bag. Him and Fred had been blackberrying on yon side of the hedge and they heard it all.’
‘Never!’
‘Yes; ’tis true, miss.’
‘But Fred knew as well?’
‘Oh yes, miss, Fred knew.’
Bridget closed her eyes. Fred had known, the dead man had known. She had believed Joe when he said he hadn’t killed him.
She opened her eyes again and looked to where Lily was standing staring down into the fire. ‘Joe said straight away he would marry me. I couldn’t believe it an’ I didn’t love him then, ’cos like the idiot that I was, I was still taken with t’other one. But I quickly grew to love him. Oh aye, aye, I did. He was one in a thousand, was Joe, one in a thousand.’
Bridget rose to her feet, saying now, ‘I’ll…I’ll have to go now, Lily. The cab man is waiting. But…but I would ask you one thing more. Would you come to live with me if I wasn’t living at Milton Place? You see, I have another house in Shields. In fact, it is my real home. I was born there, and I love it. But my father bought Milton Place so we could be nearer the Works and such. But were I to live in Shields permanently, would you come?’
Lily turned from the fire, and after a moment of thought she said, ‘’Tis very kind of you, miss, but I’ll be all right where I am. An’ you’ve been through enough worry because of what’s happened. I’ll always remember your kindness an’ how you tried to save Joe. But…but I’ll be all right.’
‘Well, if you change your mind, Lily, I’ll be only too willing to have you and the baby. But in the meantime, you will have this house rent free for as long as you care to live in it. And you will receive a pension that would have been owing to Joe if he had’—she paused—‘lived to earn it.’
‘Oh, miss.’ Now there were tears in Lily’s eyes as she murmured, ‘You’re a good lady. Joe…Joe always said this. And, you know, he once told me that when he was a lad he…he had a soft spot for you. It was a great liberty, he knew, but he used to look forward to you comin’ into the factory. He had a fight with one of the lads one day because they were chipping him about you. But as he grew older, he said he came to honour you. And he was right to honour you.’
She couldn’t bear this; she muttered now, ‘Goodbye, Lily. I will call again soon.’ Then she went out hurriedly, and gave her address to the cabby; but, as soon as she had taken her seat and the cab had moved off, she covered her mouth tightly with her hand: he had felt the same way about her as she had about him all those years ago. How strange. How strange. How cruel of fate: but for a class barrier they could have come together and he would have been alive today…No, no—she shook her head—that was imagining a fairy tale coming true, and life was no fairy tale, it was a period of years, long or short, barricaded by rules and regulations according to the womb in which you were thrust and out of which you were born into a so-called class. And although within the bounds of one class there were variations, nevertheless such internal barriers could be crossed, but never, never, between the ruling classes and the working class. Even in the middle class, where she was placed, such a misalliance would be social death for the woman. A man in this class rarely made the mistake of marrying beneath him; he would take what was called a mistress; and, of course, this was acceptable.
Joe had loved her, as a boy he had loved her, but then common sense had taken over.
Damn common sense! Blast common sense! To hell with common sense!
Oh dear God! What was the matter with her? She must get home and have a bath. And…and she must talk to someone; she was feeling desperate. But to whom could she talk about this?
She could talk to Andrew.
Yes, and what would he say? ‘Cut off the allowance immediately.’ And then Victoria would suffer. No, she couldn’t do that.
There was Douglas.
Don’t be stupid, woman; Douglas is his brother!
So she was stuck with her knowledge; and, what was more, her burning hate of that man.
Two
‘What do you mean? You’re selling this place?’
‘Just what I said. I’m selling this place, Milton Place. I’m going back home to live in my real home, Meadow House. You know it?’
‘Don’t talk like that, Bridget. Aren’t you well?’
‘Of course I am well.’
‘You can’t be. Why should you sell this place and speak as you did? Do I know our old home! What is wrong with you?’
‘There is nothing wrong with me, Victoria. I am selling this house; in fact, it is already in the agent’s hands.’
‘But…but all this beautiful furniture and…’
‘Oh, I have seen to that. I’m taking most of it back with me and for the time being storing it in the attics until I get the old stables at the end of Five Acre Field rebuilt.’
‘The stables rebuilt? What on earth for?’
‘I’m not sure yet, but perhaps I’ll turn them into a house.’
‘You’ve got something on your mind?’
‘Yes. Yes, I have, Victoria. I’m going to try to persuade Lily to bring her child there and live with us. I shall find her a position and help to educate the boy.’
‘But…but why on earth should you do this? You’ve spent a tremendous amount of money already on the case. Mr Filmore said it must have cost you in the region of five hundred pounds if a penny.’
‘No doubt, no doubt. Well, if Mr Filmore said that he must have been discussing the case. Did Lionel discuss it, too?’
‘No, no, he didn’t. He didn’t want anything to do with it. He said it was a sordid affair.’
‘Oh, he did, did he? And he doesn’t like sordid affairs?’
‘There is something wrong with you, Bridget. It’s nothing new to me that you don’t favour Lionel; but I don’t know what’s caused you to move all of a sudden. And…and what am I going to do for help, I mean when the baby comes? And who am I going to visit?’
Bridget’s voice was an absolute bark now as she turned from the dressing table where she had been sitting and rounded on Victoria, crying, ‘You’re married: you’ve got a home of your own; your husband has friends. Does he not take you to visit them? Do you not have visitors calling? You broke your neck to marry that man, now he should be all in all to you. There should be no need for you to want to visit me or anyone else.’
Victoria took several steps backwards before she spoke; then in a high voice she exclaimed, ‘You’re jealous! That’s what it is, you’re jealous. You haven’t got a husband; you haven’t had a suitor, no-one. You’re jealous. Lionel was right. From the beginning he’s said that you were of a jealous nature.’
‘Lionel said that, did he? And much more, I suppose. Now look, Victoria’—Bridget’s voice had dropped into a low flat tone—‘I am busy, or I am about to be busy getting dressed for the evening to go out and into Newcastle to have dinner with…a suitor. Now go back and tell your dear Lionel that, will you? And as for yourself, my advice to you is: grow up and face the fact that you’re a married woman who is about to become a mother. You are also the mistress of a large house, and I should imagine you’d be happier if you learnt to rule your staff instead of whining about them and what they don’t do and what they should do. Now, Victoria, have I made my feelings as plain to you as you have made your feelings plain to me? We are both on different footings now. Recognise that. If you wish to visit me in future, I shall be in Shields.’
‘I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it. You’re cruel. Something has changed you…someone has changed you. As I’ve said before, I think you’re
ill. And as for taking that girl and her baby, I think you must be mad. But then, people thought you must be, going to all the trouble and the fuss in bringing that advocate from London. And all for a workman in a blacking factory. People were made to wonder, you know. People talk. It’s been said you always favoured him.’
‘Yes. Yes, you’re quite right, Victoria, I always favoured him; but I don’t consider that a mistake. I do though consider that I made a great mistake over the years in favouring you and spoiling you. What I should have done after Father died was let you work for your living instead of allowing you to dress up like a doll. Now get out of my sight before I say more things that I’ll be sorry for, yes, indeed, I’ll be sorry for, and you, too. Get out.’
Victoria actually backed towards the door, her eyes wide, and her mouth opened twice as if she were about to say something more but then thought better of it, and now she scrambled from the room leaving the door wide.
Slowly Bridget walked towards it, and, after closing it, she leant against it, and a full minute passed before she drew herself from its support and returned to the dressing table, where she sat staring at herself in the mirror: her face was flushed red, her eyes looked bright and hard, the green standing out prominently in them as it always did when she was angry. They were now demanding of her reflection, Had she ever thought of Victoria as a loving sister? Yes, she had. Had they ever spent happy years together? Yes, they had. Had she ever been jealous of her? No, never. Then what had come over them? What had come over them, she now told herself, was that Victoria had fallen in love with a waster, a man who had to be bribed in order to carry out his promise of marrying; and from then nothing had gone right.
The Black Candle Page 17
