The Forgotten Daughter

by Mary Wood

  They sat eating their iced buns and licking sticky fingers, until the door opened again, sending a cold draught around Flora’s legs and making her look up.

  ‘Harold!’

  ‘Flora . . . I – I. How are you? And Pru. You’re not in prison, then?’

  Pru reddened.

  ‘No, she’s not. I suppose you have read about it in the papers? Well, you will read tomorrow that she was found innocent of all charges, and the verdict was “self-defence under extreme provocation”.’

  ‘Oh, I’m glad. Well done, Pru. And this is?’

  ‘Me son, Freddy.’

  ‘Ha, he looks like our father, Flora.’

  Flora could have hit Harold. But Freddy surprised her with his answer, ‘That’s because I am his son. And I’m your half-brother. How do you do?’

  Harold’s mouth opened and closed again. He didn’t take Freddy’s outstretched hand, but looked at Flora, his face telling of his outrage, his teeth gritted together as he snarled at her: ‘And so, this is what you wouldn’t admit to? Though I had guessed. Do our parents know?’

  ‘Father knows, but Mother doesn’t.’

  ‘Is this the news you upset him with? Sometimes, Flora, I think Mother is right about you. You’re nothing but trouble.’

  ‘She ain’t reet. Flora has never done owt to your ma; your father did it all, and Flora suffered for it. I were just a young lass and in awe of him – he were me master. He took advantage of that, and left your ma in their bed and came to me. He made me feel as if I were special and had a future with him. I were daft to give in to him, but I weren’t the only one. Your ma screamed at him that he had broken her heart by producing a son with his mistress afore she had you.’

  Harold’s expression had changed. His anger shook his body. Pru had just confirmed his worst fear. Flora saw the control he had to use as he tried not to show how Pru’s words had affected him. He turned to Pru. ‘Do – do you know who the woman was, and where her son is?’

  ‘Naw, that’s all I knaw. Except that your dad pacified your ma and made her think it would never happen again.’ Pru went on to explain how Flora became hated by her mother. And although she and Harold had talked about it previously, it all sounded more convincing coming from Pru. She’d tried to make Harold understand, but it seemed he’d since chosen to believe their mother’s version of her character.

  ‘Sit down, Harold. I’ll order another cup of tea.’

  He did as Flora bade him, his face ashen. ‘What do you know of this other son, Pru? Where is he, and did my father recognize him as his son?’

  ‘I knaw nowt, lad, I told you. I were kicked out. Oh, your da gave me a pay-off and I managed to get meself a place, but I were pregnant and had no prospects. I weren’t thrown quite into the gutter, but near to it.’ As if aware of Freddy for the first time since she’d spoken up, Aunt Pru added, ‘But I had one thing more precious than money, and that were me Freddy.’

  Harold looked uncomfortable. He didn’t look in Freddy’s direction, but kept his head down. Flora expected him at least to apologize for their father, or express his own sorrow about what happened, but Harold’s self-centred core came to the fore. ‘How does one go about finding someone? I must find out more about this supposed older brother. I must know if Father recognized him, Flora – it’s vital.’

  ‘Vital to what? Whether you inherit or not; or to make him your brother, as you appear not to want to do with Freddy?’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, why should I? If Father hasn’t done so, then there is no need for me to. But if Father has recognized this other son, then my life as I expect it to turn out will change, and that’s not fair.’

  What Harold perceived as fair was a lot different from what Flora did. She looked at Freddy and smiled at him. ‘You’re better off without people like this half-brother of yours in your life, believe me. He only wants to know if you are of any use to him, or might be a threat to him. I know – I have experienced Harold’s way of loving.’

  ‘Flora!’

  ‘It’s true, Harold. You gave me your love, and took it from me, within two days. Anyway, what brings you to these parts? I’m curious.’ The words had hardly left her lips when the doorbell rang again and in walked Susan. ‘Oh, like Father, like son?’

  ‘Shut up! It’s nothing to do with you.’

  Susan stood in the doorway. Flora could see the shock on her face and wanted so much to go to her and to beg her not to trust Harold, but Harold was up and making his way towards her. He took Susan’s arm roughly and hurried her out of the cafe.

  ‘History has a way of repeating itself. I take it, by the way she were dressed, and by Harold’s reaction, that the girl is one of your ma’s maids?’

  ‘Yes. Not sure what she is doing around here, though, but Harold’s up to no good, and that worries me.’

  ‘It might just be that this is far enough away from home. But didn’t you mention that your da had opened a shop in this area?’

  ‘There was talk of it, but I don’t really know where all the shops are. I just overheard Father and Harold talking about business once. You know, they never discussed anything in front of me, and yet I am surely entitled to know.’

  ‘I don’t think you are, lass. It’s a man’s world, and the female members of the family have no rights.’

  ‘Do I have any rights, Ma?’

  ‘Not unless your father recognizes you as his son. And I’m sorry, lad, but that ain’t going to happen.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I have something of my father – I have his love of music, like Flora has. I heard today that I passed my grade-three music and violinist exam.’

  ‘Eeh, Freddy.’

  ‘Oh, Freddy, that’s wonderful. You know, Cyrus plays too and is very accomplished. One day, you, me and Cyrus will form a trio and make wonderful music together. Cyrus writes music and lyrics, too, just like us, so we’ll put on a concert of our own music.’

  ‘Oh, Flors, as me ma would say, that’d be grand.’

  They all laughed. Harold and his exploits and self-centred ways now forgotten, they regained their previous joy, and Flora was glad of it. Nothing could lift her heartache, but like millions of others, she had to get on with life as best she could, she knew that.

  Looking for a home for her and Cyrus would help. She’d save every penny of his money towards it, so that he felt as if he had bought it; and she’d have it ready for his return. Please God let him return.

  ‘Now, lass, no sad faces. Not today. Head held high with courage, and let’s take the next step of our lives, eh?’

  ‘Yes, we’ve a lot to look forward to, and to celebrate.’

  ‘Aye, we have our worries an’ all, but life’s like that.’

  As they walked along arm-in-arm, Flora realized that Aunt Pru must be worried. She had no means of earning an income now and, with the fees for Freddy’s schooling to find, she had a tough time in front of her. ‘Have you any plans, Aunt Pru?’

  ‘I haven’t given much thought to it all, I daren’t, I was never really sure as I’d come out of that court a free woman. But I have to plan now. Somehow I have to make a lot of money. Freddy’s schooling is important.’

  ‘Ma, I only have another term left. I can leave now and get a job. One more term’s not going to make that much difference.’

  ‘It will, Freddy. You won’t complete your exams, and you have to go on with your schooling after that, to get to university.’

  ‘Ma, that’s an impossible dream now. Where would we get the money?’

  ‘I could ask our father.’

  ‘No! I want nothing from him, Flors – nothing. You getting what you have for Ma is enough. I want to forget that he and the rest of them exist. I have you, and that’s enough. And, Ma, I want to go to fight. I have to. You have to come to terms with that.’

  The ‘no-sadness-today’ pact they’d made was broken. Sadness hung over them like a cloud as they reached the door of their home. For Freddy to join up was unthinkable, and
yet the latest news was that the war would rage on for years, and they all knew it was inevitable that he would go.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A week had passed since Christmas. With each day Flora’s heart had sunk further, as the promise in the last letter she received from Cyrus hadn’t materialized. Now, the birth of their child was on her, and agonizing pains wracked her body.

  ‘Flora, lass, one more try, come on, you can do it. That’s reet, lass, push, Flora, push.’

  A scream came from deep within Flora as the pain gripped her. Sweat ran off her face, her teeth clenched and her neck strained. Oh God, let it be over soon, I can’t bear any more.

  With this thought dying in her, her next was a curse as she felt as though she would split in two, but then a cry filled the room and her heart swelled.

  Our baby. Oh, Cyrus, if only you were here . . .

  ‘Let it all out, me lass. You’ve sommat to cry over, but sommat to rejoice over an’ all. There, you have a lovely little lass. She’s reet bonny. Eeh, you’re a clever lass.’

  Flora looked down into the blood-covered face and felt a love fill her that warmed her whole body. ‘Oh, she’s beautiful. Beautiful!’

  ‘She will be, when I’ve cleaned her up and put her in her layette that I’ve all ready for her. Oooh, come here, me bonny wee one. I’m your Aunty Pru, and I love the bones of you.’

  ‘You’re not just her aunt – you’re her namesake, as she is to be called Prudence Alice, only we will use her second name, to avoid confusion. Alice is after Aliz, a girl I met in Belgium who I want to remember.’

  ‘Aw, that’s lovely. Reet, me little Alice, a bath for you and a nice cuppa for your ma. Then I’ll clean you up, lass. Eeh, I’m going to have me hands full, with the pair of you.’

  Flora smiled, a weak, tired smile. Her body reacted to the hours of labour and trembled with exhaustion. She lay back. An awareness of what she held in her hand came to her and she opened it, gasping in horror as she saw how she’d crumpled Cyrus’s photo. He’d sent it to her a few weeks back, in a letter that was full of hope:

  We had a great victory today, darling. We secured a ridge that is a strategic advantage. Not only that, but defeating the Germans meant so much to the men. Though, sadly, our casualties are still high and we are not getting the replacements we need.

  This means that those still fighting are very tired. Maybe now, with this victory, we can rest for a few days. There’s always a lull when a battle is won, while our enemy regroups and we begin to see their next move.

  I’m enclosing a photo taken when a fellow officer and I snatched a few hours and went into Artois; we had a good time, and got a little drunk. A French lady took the picture, and in no time returned to the bar with it developed. She studied photography and tries to earn a living taking shots of the war and of soldiers, and selling them to newspapers. How resilient people are.

  I made sure I bought this one for you.

  Your last letter took me to heaven with your wonderful news. A baby – we made a baby: how amazing is that? Oh, my darling, I wish you didn’t have to cope alone and I could fuss over you, and do all the things a normal expectant father would do. But these are not normal times, and won’t be for a long time.

  Though I do have some news that cheers me, and I hope gives you something to look forward to. I may be home for Christmas! To our home, our very own. Clever girl, you, finding a home and sorting everything out. I cannot wait.

  You say you are due early January? Just maybe, our little one will be born while I am there! Wouldn’t that be wonderful? I cannot wait to meet him, or her. I have no preference, by the way. I just want you and our baby to be well.

  I love you beyond loving, my darling. You are never far away, because you are me.

  Your loving and devoted, Cyrus x

  Every word was etched on Flora’s heart, increasing her pain as Cyrus hadn’t made it home, and she didn’t know why. The photo, which showed Cyrus’s wonderful eyes glittering a little too much with the effect of the alcohol, had made her smile, remembering the night they reached Brighton and had drunk too much champagne and Cyrus was all silly and giggly. Oh, how her heart longed for him. And now she’d crumpled the bottom half of his photo.

  A wail came from her, shocking her and bringing Aunt Pru running up the stairs. After she placed the baby in the cot at the foot of the bed, the mattress sank as she plonked herself next to Flora. ‘What’s to do, lass? Eeh, me little love.’

  Flora could only show her the photo.

  ‘Well, you’ve made a mess of that, but it’s a nice mess. Cyrus’s lovely face is still intact, but it’s as if he has been holding your hand throughout all the pain and helping you through it. I could iron it, to make it a bit better, but I’d treasure it as it is, lass. Show him that he was with you when he most needed to be.’

  This calmed Flora. Aunt Pru was right. Holding the photo had helped, and the damage to it would be a reminder of that – and something to show Cyrus. He would love that.

  ‘That’s reet; smiles are better than tears, and better for the little one, too. A happy mam makes for a happy babby.’

  Sitting up a few hours later, with Alice feeding from her breast for the second time, Flora was overcome with a sense of complete fulfilment. Her hand stroked the soft down of her baby’s brown hair. How complete her life would be if Cyrus were here. With her and his daughter, in their own home.

  Home . . . how thrilled he’d sounded that they had their own home. She hoped his expectations weren’t too high, because with finding herself pregnant and having to give up work, she hadn’t been able to save Cyrus’s money, but found she’d had to live on it. That had meant she had had to greatly lower her budget to buy this house.

  A one-up, one-down in a much less desirable part of Brixton than Aunt Pru lived in was all Flora could afford, though she had managed to get permission to build a bathroom on the back of the house, which led off from the kitchen. This was essential to her, as the thought of a shared lav at the bottom of the garden filled her with disgust. She’d had a high fence erected to hide the lav, and had the now-enclosed yard paved. Pot plants broke its starkness and gave them a haven all their own, although, with a layer of snow covering it at the moment, it wasn’t a place to linger.

  At least with only two rooms – a kitchen-cum-living-room and a bedroom – she hadn’t needed a lot of furniture and, scouring the second-hand shops, she had managed to find some elegant pieces that gave the house a richness and made her feel it was her home.

  ‘Can I come up, love?’

  The voice made her jump. I’ll never get used to how the women around here just walk into each other’s homes. She called out to Mrs Larch that, yes, she could, and then found the woman in the doorway at the top of the stairs before she even had the last word out!

  ‘I heard. A little girl then? Congratulations, love. I brought you a casserole. I stuck it in the oven before I called out. It’ll be ready for your supper, and will give you the goodness you need back in your body. Now let me look, then I’ll make you a nice Rosy Lee.’

  Flora smiled. Mrs Larch was the kind of woman you would describe as the salt of the earth. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you. I’d love a cup of tea.’ Not really the truth, as Aunt Pru had served her a total of four cups, before leaving to make sure Freddy was home from school – ‘restless Freddy’, she called him, and she lived in fear of him having joined up and announcing that he’d done so, leaving Aunt Pru with nothing she could do about it.

  ‘You’re welcome, love. Now, let me look. Ooh, she’s a bundle of joy at a time like this. Poor Mrs Randall at the top of the street had one of them brown envelopes. Her Tommy copped it. Poor woman. She’s demented with grief. To lose a lad, just eighteen years old. I could kill that Kaiser bloke. They should let him loose in our street, then he’d know it.’

  This news devastated Flora. The tears that had found a permanent home between her throat and eyes, causing her to swallow hard to keep them
from flowing, now won the battle once more and streamed down her face.

  ‘There, there, you let your heart rule – it does no harm. We’ve all cried for the lad. But the whole street’s rejoicing that a baby has been brought to us. That northern woman told us. We were all having a natter and comforting each other, when she came out and, with a little skip and jump, told us you’d delivered. We told her that we’d all watch out for you, when she couldn’t be here. I’ve made enough of me casserole for her and her lad, as she said she’d be back with him later.’

  Through her sobs, Flora thanked Mrs Larch. The kindness of the woman, and the way she and all her neighbours had accepted her into their fold, had been something she couldn’t comprehend and yet welcomed.

  With Alice taken from her and settled back in her cot, Flora sipped the hot tea, knowing she’d be glad when Mrs Larch left, so that she could use the pot behind the screen. Going downstairs was not allowed, on the strict instructions of Aunt Pru, but oh dear, all the tea had made her nearly fill the pot!

  ‘Please give my condolences to Mrs Randall. Tell her she’s welcome to come and see little Alice any time.’

  ‘She’s in no fit state, love, but I know she’ll be comforted by you having said it. You’re different to us – you talk posh, and you, and your inside lav, is something we were all shocked at having amongst us, love. But for all that, we’re your neighbours, and neighbours should stick together and look out for one another. That’s our way.’

  ‘I’m glad of it. I know I seem different, but my Aunt Pru brought me up in a neighbourhood like this one. So I’m not so different in my outlook, and I want to be a part of the community.’

  ‘Your Aunt Pru told us all about you. She likes a natter, that one. Though she talks funny, she’s a good girl.’

  Flora knew from experience that you had to be in your fifties, or thereabouts, for these cockney women to call you a woman. Pru, at just thirty-seven, was still classed as a girl.