The Forgotten Daughter

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by Mary Wood


  The words came out in a gasp as, without wanting it to, her body went into an exquisite spasm of sensations that she could not control. ‘God help meeee!’

  The sound triggered the end. Abe pulled from her and lay beside her, holding himself and moaning his pleasure as he reached his climax. It was a small thing to feel thankful for. At least he’d kept his promise not to give her a babby.

  When it was over, he slumped down on the rug beside her. ‘You enjoyed that, didn’t you? Your moan told of your pleasure as you orgasmed. Ha! Well, that’s the first of many that you’re going to have, Pru.’ He raised himself on his elbow. ‘But I don’t want to fight for it. Not every time. It’s me right, now. You’re me woman, Pru.’ An ugly expression replaced the pleased-with-himself one that he’d worn, as he said this.

  Pru’s fear mounted once more.

  ‘You don’t know what I’m capable of, Pru. That kid of yours: you want to keep him safe, right? Well, you play ball with me, and be available when I want you, and your life will change. I’ll support you both. But mess with me, and you won’t have a son any more. Do you understand?’

  Pru stared at him. A tear crept down her face.

  ‘Pru, Pru, this can change your life. You be willing and loving with me, and things will get better for you. You want that, don’t you? I don’t want to hurt you. But I must have you when I want to. Now, tell me that we have a deal.’

  Pru nodded.

  Abe stood. Once dressed, he threw some coins on the table and turned as if to leave.

  ‘I’ll be back tomorrow, Pru, and we can talk then. I’ll get a proper arrangement in place. You’re never going hungry again, girl.’

  After he’d left, Pru sat staring at the door for a few minutes, before slowly raising herself and going towards the sink. She could see that the small change on the table amounted to a couple of pounds. More than she got from the Parish Relief. As she looked at the half-crowns, shillings, sixpences and pennies, it was as if they were taunting her, telling her that she was nothing but a paid slut. That thought brought the tears once more, as she realized that her life was mapped out for her. She were nowt but Abe Manning’s whore. Drying her eyes, she pulled herself up. Well, so be it.

  After scrubbing herself in the cold water that she’d fetched from the well earlier, she dried herself rigorously, then picked up her shift and pulled it over her head, before gathering some logs from the basket and stoking the range with them. As she pulled out the damper and the fire jumped into life, she went over a few things to convince herself that she was entitled to the money, after what had happened to her. I’m only twenty-four, and some would say as I have me life ahead of me. Well, I’m going to take charge of that life. With the defiance that entered her at this thought, she shoved the stew pot over the flames. She’d eat and go to bed. And there she would plan.

  Her future was going to be different. Abe might think he had control of her, and that she would have to do his bidding, but she would see to it that he paid her well.

  This brave notion didn’t sit long in her. She slumped into the chair. How did I come to this? Her sobs were so deep that they hurt her ribs and bent her body. They lasted until exhaustion took her and she leaned back in the chair. Reaching for the towel that she’d hung to dry by the stove, she wiped her face. ‘Eeh, Pru, lass, you can’t change owt. Abe’s stronger than you.’ And, aye, so is the pull he has on me feelings. Another tear seeped from her sore eyes. If this is the way of things, then I’m to make sure as I get sommat out of it. Better meself.

  It came to her then that, although she couldn’t change things in the near future, she could take some steps to alter them in the long run. With the money Abe gave her, she’d pay for the education she’d always longed for, and then maybe one day she’d become a teacher. She’d helped teach a fair few in her time with learning their letters. One thing was for sure: Freddy would be cared for and would never go hungry. I’d do owt asked of me to ensure that happened. And to keep him safe.

  Chapter Three

  Flora jumped from the train onto the platform of Victoria Station. She’d spotted Nanny Pru through the window as they’d come into the station, then lost her again as a swirl of smoke hid her from view. She felt very grown-up, having travelled from Bexhill on her own. She’d been collected from school by Millicent’s nanny, then taken to the station, where Millicent and her nanny had made sure she boarded the right train to London. The whole trip, seemingly by arrangement with Daddy – Millicent had managed everything perfectly. Mummy and Daddy would never find out that she wasn’t at Millicent’s house, and Millicent’s nanny thought she had carried out Daddy’s instructions. It had worked out just as they planned, though her tummy had been tied in knots from the moment she left the school gates. But now here she was!

  She held her breath with excitement as Nanny Pru emerged from the smoke and steam, laughing and doing a little skip and jump. To Flora, Nanny Pru looked lovely in her silver-grey ankle-length frock and matching jacket. Her curly hair was topped with a darker grey felt hat with a small brim. And the dimples that Flora loved were deep crevices in Nanny Pru’s pretty face.

  ‘Eeh, me little lass, look at you – all smart in your uniform. That green suits you, but I hope as you’ve brought sommat a little cooler. It’s a hot day, and promises to be so all week.’

  It felt so good to be enclosed in her nanny’s arms. No one had held her close since Nanny Pru had dropped her off at St Alfonso’s Refined School for Girls in Bexhill, two years ago. Her Aunt Amelia only managed a peck on the cheek on greeting Flora, and each night at bedtime; and the one time she’d seen Mummy there had been no physical contact at all. Even Daddy didn’t lift her up and hold her, as he used to, but patted her back and smiled at her.

  Clinging on to Nanny Pru, Flora didn’t want to let her go and couldn’t help the sob that escaped her.

  ‘Eeh, come on now, this is a happy occasion, me little lass. By, it’s grand to see thee. We’re going to have a good time together, you and me. I’ve lots lined up. But first I want you to meet someone. Let’s go and get your case off the train, then I’ll take you to him.’

  Flora felt a little disappointment at this. She didn’t want to share Nanny Pru with anyone. And as she followed Nanny into the waiting room, once her cases had been retrieved, she wondered crossly who this stranger might be. The last thing she expected was a child!

  ‘This is Freddy. He’s me son. He’s sixteen months old. Freddy, this is Flora, me own little charge, and she’s going to be like a big sister to you.’

  Freddy looked up from his pushchair and offered Flora his wooden toy-train engine. His gurgle made her laugh. His eyes were like hers and Daddy’s, very dark. His smile showed two dimples, just like Nanny Pru’s, and he had her curly brown hair. As she looked at him, Flora felt a deep feeling surge through her, and she knew that she loved him dearly, even though she’d only just met him. She bent down and kissed his chubby cheek. Freddy’s hand came towards her and his tiny fingers caught in one of her ringlets. She giggled as Nanny Pru disentangled them.

  ‘By, he likes you, lass. And I can tell you like him.’

  ‘I love him, Nanny Pru. How did you get him – where did he come from . . . ? Are you married, Nanny Pru?’

  Relief flooded through Flora when Nanny Pru said she wasn’t married. She knew she was being selfish; sharing her with Freddy was all right, but she didn’t want to share her with anyone else.

  ‘I’ll tell you all about it later. Now, let’s get on our way. We’ve to get on the Underground to Stepney.’

  On the journey, which didn’t seem to take long at all, Nanny Pru made Flora feel very curious. ‘I want you to be a very grown-up lass, Flora, as I have sommat to tell you about Freddy. Has your school told you owt about how babbies get here?’

  Feeling a bit shy, Flora shook her head, and then remembered something that Millicent had told her. ‘Millicent said it is to do with mummies and daddies. Her nanny told her a little, as she said tha
t Millicent, who is ten already, is coming of an age. She said that they will be talking more about some things that will happen to her body. What will happen to Millicent’s body, Nanny Pru?’

  ‘We’ll talk about that when we get home to mine. It’s reet that Millicent’s nanny is preparing her. It’s a nanny’s job. Does you have a new nanny when you’re at home, me little love?’

  ‘No. There’s no one. Mrs Randall has a girl to help her now – she’s nice, her name’s Belinda, but we call her Bee. She gets my bath ready and helps me to bed. She can’t read, so I read stories to her. She loves them.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, lass. And what about the boys?’

  ‘Bee sees to their clothes, but they don’t have anyone to care for all their needs. They eat with Mummy and Daddy, and they bath themselves and still have a tutor at home, though Harold is going to school next term, but not as a boarder. I wish I could be like them. I get lonely, Nanny Pru. Especially when Millicent has gone home each day.’

  Nanny Pru’s arm came around her, giving Flora some comfort. She snuggled into Nanny Pru’s body. It wasn’t as squidgy as it used to be. She could feel Nanny’s ribs. She remembered Nanny Pru’s love of cakes and how she’d persuade Cook to put extra cakes on the plate at teatime. Nanny once told Flora that Cook would do anything for her, as she was teaching her her letters each evening. Maybe Nanny Pru had no one to make cakes for her now.

  ‘Nanny Pru, how is it that you can read, but Bee can’t? She says she never went to school much, and not many that she knew of did.’

  ‘I went to a day-school run by the Church. It wasn’t far from where I lived. I loved school; loved chalking on me board, and forming letters. I loved books an’ all. I’ve still got me old ones, but I’ve bought some new ones from the market an’ all. There’s a stall there that’s a treasure for them as likes to read. I’ve a lot by Charles Dickens, and a very special book I bought for your visit, and will keep for when Freddy is older. I were lucky to get it. I asked the market trader for sommat good for a young girl, and he said as he’d heard of a book only published this year. It’s called The Railway Children and it makes you cry, and then laugh and feel good. He got a copy specially for me. I know as you’ll love it.’

  ‘Oh, I will. Do the children work on the railway?’

  ‘Naw, but I’m not telling you owt about the story, as it will spoil it for you, so you can stop your prying, lass.’

  They giggled together. Freddy began to giggle, too, and wave his wooden train in the air. ‘Chuf, chuf.’

  This made them giggle even more. ‘Eeh, lass, I’m that happy that you’ve taken to me little Freddy.’

  ‘He’s mine, too.’

  ‘He is, lass, he is. He’s our little Freddy.’

  Flora loved Nanny Pru’s house, even though she’d been shocked by the rubbish in the street outside her door, and the smell had made her feel sick.

  They were sitting in the back yard, with home-made cakes and tea. Flora felt glad that she could at least still have cakes, even though Nanny Pru didn’t have any servants. The sun was hot, and the yard was trapped by the high walls. But even though the space was small, there was a row of planted pots against the back wall. Chatter in different languages could be heard, and children shouted to one another – the noise was like nothing Flora had ever experienced. A strange cooking smell floated on the breeze, which Flora wasn’t sure she recognized. Nanny Pru told her it was food from faraway countries.

  ‘Don’t they eat the food that we do? What does it taste like?’

  ‘Some of it is delicious, but some would burn your mouth out. I have a friend you will meet later. She lives across the road, and sometimes cooks me a Jamaican dish called jerk-chicken with rice, but she does make it in a special mild way for me.’

  ‘Jerk-chicken! Does that mean that she has to shake the chicken?’

  ‘Ha, you’re full of questions – you’ll tire me out. Naw, I don’t know why they call it that. Reet, lass, I’ll put Freddy down to have his nap, then me and you have to talk.’

  Biting into the delicious fairy cake and having the cream stick to her nose resulted in Nanny Pru wiping Flora’s face with her pinny, when she returned.

  ‘Flora, lass, there’s sommat as you need to knaw. But first, I want you to stop calling me “Nanny Pru”. As much as it saddens me, I’m not your nanny any longer. D’yer reckon as you can call me “Aunt Pru”?’

  This shocked Flora. She liked telling the other girls that she had a nanny, too, and they hung on her every word when she told them about Nanny Pru, as they all had stiff, old-fashioned nannies.

  ‘Eeh, I knaw as that won’t come easy to you, but we’ve to accept that we have a different relationship now. Not that we’ll change with each other, but folk round here will find it strange you calling me “Nanny”. Will you do that for me, eh? I’ve already told them as I have a niece coming to stay.’

  It seemed important to Nanny Pru, so Flora agreed. ‘I might slip up, but I’ll try, and I can I still call you “Nanny” at school, as everyone has a nanny.’

  ‘Aye, you can, there’s no harm in that. But here I’m “Aunt Pru”. Reet, start now. Ask me to pass you the sugar.’

  They giggled together as, over and over again, Flora got it wrong. But gradually, as the game progressed, it became a little more natural to call her nanny ‘Aunt Pru’.

  ‘Eeh, you’ve got it off pat – good, lass. Now, me next news is sommat as you have to keep a secret all your life. You must promise never to tell a soul.’

  Flora couldn’t speak, as this sounded very serious, so she just nodded.

  ‘Freddy is your half-brother. Now that means that he has the same daddy as you, but not the same mummy. I’m his mummy. Your daddy gave him to me.’

  This was all too much for Flora. And nothing that came after it made any sense, as she tried to work it all out. Daddy slept with Nan . . . Aunt Pru, and put a baby in her tummy. Well, a tiny egg, and that grew into Freddy. But Aunt Pru and Daddy were very naughty to have done this, and it must never be told, or Mummy will become even more angry than she already is. Well, that was something Flora didn’t want to happen, so she agreed to keep this very strange thing a secret.

  ‘I like that Freddy is my half-brother, it makes him special. And even if it was a naughty thing that brought him into the world, I don’t think it’s his fault. But maybe Mummy would be cross. She makes me think I’m bad, and I wouldn’t want Freddy to feel like I do.’

  ‘Good girl. Now, me little lass, I reckon as you’ve had enough revelations for one day. We’ll talk another time about what happens to a girl’s body to make her a woman. It’s early days for you, and though I think it a nanny’s job to make sure the girls in her charge know what will happen, I was a little surprised that Millicent’s nanny has broached the subject already.’

  ‘Millicent said it was because her body was changing. Mine isn’t, but Millicent is getting . . . well, her shape is changing and she’s growing fast.’

  ‘By, she sounds like what we call an “early developer”. In which case, her nanny does reet by her, but you’ve no need to worry along those lines. Besides, it might be more comfortable for you if Millicent tells you about it. Now, Flora, me little love, I think you need a rest. I only have one bedroom, so you will sleep in my bed with me at night. But for now you can lie on the sofa for an hour, and then I’m taking you to the theatre.’

  ‘Ooh, I’d love that – our school takes us to the theatre. It makes me feel as though I go out of the world and into the music. Will Freddy like it?’

  ‘Eeh, that’s a lovely thing to say about how the theatre makes you feel. And naw, my friend I told you about will look after Freddy. She’ll take care of you for a couple of evenings an’ all, as I’ve got meself a tutor and am on with bettering me education. Rowena is really nice, very funny and always singing and laughing. You’ll love her. You’ll meet her when we take Freddy to her later on.’

  All of this sounded very exciting, but for
the moment Flora had a pressing need. ‘Where is your bathroom, Aunt Pru?’

  ‘Eeh, lass, I don’t have owt as posh as that. We have one lav between four houses. But you don’t have to go there. I have a screen in me room with a bucket for me, and a big jerry-pot for you. I only use me bucket if I need to pee after dark, but you can use your jerry-pot any time you want to go. Come on, I’ll show you.’

  They passed the huge pram where Freddy slept soundly, and went through the door into the kitchen-cum-living-room. Flora had never seen a room so cosy, with its blackened, gleaming cooking range, and a deep sink with a curtain around it that matched the curtains at the window above it. To the right of this stood a dresser. Highly polished, it was hung with lovely coloured china cups, and matching plates stood on its open shelves. Each side of the fire was a comfy chair, upholstered in a patterned red fabric. The sofa was of brown leather, but had what looked like a huge curtain covering it, in the same yellow fabric as those at the windows and around the sink. A big rug lay in front of the fire, and dotted around the room were small tables, while at the back were a table and chairs. A huge vase full of summer flowers stood on the table. To Flora, this room said, ‘I’m home.’

  The stairs led off this room, through a door next to the table. Narrow and curved, they were soft to tread on, as each step had a pad of bright-red carpet stuck to it, with a border of highly polished wood.

  The stairs led straight into the bedroom. This held a cot, a double iron bedstead, a chair and a huge dark-wood chest of drawers. In one corner of the room, next to the window, stood the screen. Behind this was the bucket and the jerry-pot that Aunt Pru had told Flora about – and a little stand containing a jug and a matching china bowl and soap dish. A towel hung on a rail that protruded from the stand. On the opposite side, a small nail had squares of newspaper stuck onto it.

  ‘There you are, me little lass. Now, you see to yourself while I empty your case. I’ve cleared a drawer for your things. I see as you’ve clocked the newspaper; well, that’s instead of toilet roll. You’ll get used to it. It’s a saving I make.’

 

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