Poppy's Dilemma

by Nancy Carson

  Eventually, a familiar young woman answered it, with a baby in her arms.

  ‘Mother!’

  Sheba shrieked with surprise and delight. ‘It’s our Poppy! I can scarcely believe it.’

  Poppy flung herself forward, wrapping her arms around Sheba and her baby. She was too overcome to say anything, but clung to her mother, her eyes filling with tears. The baby began complaining at being squashed between them, so Poppy let go and cooed her apologies to the little mite.

  ‘The baby,’ she said, looking up tearfully. ‘What have you called it?’

  ‘It’s a him. I’d already made me mind up to call it Jack if it was a lad. After your father. What else? But look at you, our Poppy … I’d never have recognised you. Why, you’m all growed up and quite the young madam.’

  ‘I have Robert to thank for that,’ she answered, turning to him. ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘Come inside,’ Sheba said warmly, standing aside to let them in. ‘Have you got time for a mug o’ tea or a tankard o’ beer?’ She looked enquiringly from one to the other. ‘Have you ate? Am yer hungry?’

  ‘That’s very kind,’ Robert replied. ‘But I have to get back to work. I daresay Poppy’s ready for a cup of tea, though. Poppy, I’ll call back for you as soon as I can to take you back.’

  So Robert went about his business, leaving mother and daughter to bring each other up to date with their lives.

  ‘Do you have any honey, Mother? I just fancy some bread and honey.’

  ‘There’s some cheese.’

  Poppy took the baby, her youngest brother, from her mother and held him in her arms as she told her story, interspersed with sips of tea and mouthfuls of bread and cheese. Sheba listened, fascinated.

  ‘So how about you, Mother?’

  ‘I’m content,’ Sheba said simply. ‘Buttercup’s me man, and we’m happy. He’s bin lucky enough to have got the ganger’s job, so we’ve been able to rent this hut. We shall let the other room to lodgers, like we used to at Blowers Green.’

  ‘Where’s Buttercup now?’

  ‘Gone with Jericho to try and round up some o’ the lads what worked on the Blowers Green section.’

  ‘Jericho? He’s here as well?’

  ‘Lives in this hut. He’s one o’ the family now.’

  Poppy chuckled as she recalled her unsavoury experiences with him. ‘Good gracious … So how long have you been here?’

  ‘Less than a week. Buttercup heard as how they was starting up again so we tramped all the way from Hereford to get here. We’d been fruit pickin’, see, and doin’ farm work. Work starts again next month on this section to Stourbridge. They’m a-getting’ everythin’ ready.’

  ‘So I’ll be able to come and see you.’

  ‘If he’ll bring yer … Is that the same chap you was friendly with, who used to be an engineer up at Blowers Green?’ Sheba asked, nodding at the spot where Robert had last stood.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Am yer married to him now or summat, our Poppy?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not yet. But I hope to be … soon.’

  ‘You’ve done well for yourself. I always knew you would. I can scarcely believe how you’ve changed. I’m that proud o’ yer. If only yer father could see yer.’

  ‘I know …’ she answered wistfully. ‘Anyway, what about Lottie and Rose and Jenkin? And little Nathaniel?’

  ‘They’m all about somewhere, getting to know the place, I reckon. They’ll be back soon, I daresay.’

  ‘I’m dying to see them. I imagine they’ve grown up.’

  ‘Oh, Lottie’s quite the young madam now. Just like you was, our Poppy.’

  ‘I can’t wait to see them all again. And Buttercup. How is he?’

  ‘A good father to your brothers and sisters. A good man to me. I couldn’t wish for better.’

  ‘I’m glad, Mother. Every day I’ve thought about you all, wondering where you were, if you were all right. I’ve missed you. Oh, wait till Aunt Phoebe knows I’ve found you again. She’ll be dying to meet you. We’ll have to arrange a get-together.’

  ‘And this Aunt Phoebe’s been good to you, our Poppy?’

  ‘You wouldn’t believe how good. I think the world of her.’

  ‘You sound different an’ all.’

  ‘I know. Minnie often reminds me.’

  ‘Minnie Catchpole? You still see her?’

  ‘Minnie’s married now, Mother.’

  ‘Married? Good God!’

  ‘To a very rich man … She’s Mrs Tyler now, and quite the fashionable young thing.’

  ‘Best keep that from Tipton Ted … if he ever shows up. He’ll be trying to tap up this Mr Tyler otherwise. Wait till Dog Meat knows.’

  And so they gossiped, till Robert returned for her. On the way home, they stopped so that Poppy could buy a jar of honey, then proceeded to Cawneybank House and Aunt Phoebe. She was delighted to hear Poppy’s news, even though she couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of Poppy’s mother.

  Virginia Lord’s plans for her wedding were well advanced. Her wedding dress was made and hanging in her wardrobe, awaiting the fateful day when she and Robert would be joined in holy matrimony. The arrangements had been made with Reverend Bartholomew at St Peter’s parish church in Harborne, for the ceremony to take place after morning service on Christmas Day, which fell on a Wednesday. The guests would then repair to Metchley House, the home of the Lord family, on the outskirts of the village. All that remained was for the banns to be read.

  Virginia understood that Robert was unable to pay her court more frequently than once a week due to his commitments at work and the geographical distance between them, and she accepted it without qualm. That Robert had chosen her at last, after so many heart-rending doubts, was reason to be thankful that she saw him at all. Of course, when they were finally married on Christmas Day, they would be together every evening and most of the weekends. Meanwhile, she had enough to keep her busy. Supervising the fittings of the bridesmaids’ dresses and the suit for her pageboy were alone enough to contend with. Her mother, too, could not decide what to wear. Then there was the question of what flowers would be available, as well as worrying over the rest of the trivialities that generally beset a nervous and excited bride-to-be.

  The couple were expected to live at Metchley House at first, and a private apartment had been created for them, at great expense, on the first floor of one wing of the house. Robert was suffering extreme pangs of guilt that all this money was being expended to benefit a marriage that would never take place, when, with just a word or two, he could have prevented it. This deceit, which went so much against the grain of his nature, was a travesty that he must lay at his father’s door.

  It was in such a mood of frustration that he called at his father’s office to discover why there was such a delay in setting a starting date for the sewers project, and thus the inception of the necessary overdraft arrangements with Tyler’s and Lord’s Bank. Robert tapped politely on his office door and waited for the call to enter.

  ‘Good God, Robert, what brings you here?’ Ridley exclaimed testily. ‘Come to spy on us for Treadwell’s, have you?’

  Robert perceived that his father was not in the best of spirits. ‘May I sit down?’ he asked neutrally.

  Ridley gestured that he should. ‘To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’

  ‘Virginia Lord,’ Robert responded evenly. ‘A fortune is being spent on my supposed marriage to the poor girl, a fortune that they could have avoided squandering, if only I could have told her that I have no intention of marrying her. I have kept my part of the bargain to protect Crawford and Sons, Father, but I am losing patience. I am feeling inordinately guilty as well. I can assure you, the Crawford name will be mud when this fiasco is over, and I shall be castigated as the biggest cad in Christendom.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Ridley said gravely. ‘You have been very patient, Robert, and I am grateful for your indulgence. I do have some news, however. We received a letter only
this morning.’ He picked it up off his desk and waved it at him.

  Robert regarded him expectantly. ‘So this charade can soon be ended?’

  Ridley nodded. ‘Indeed, it can be ended without further ado. The letter does not confirm the council’s acceptance of the tender, as we had anticipated, though. No, Birmingham council has decided to reorganise itself first. Something to do with its constitution, I understand, abolishing the old town commissioners and increasing the power of the town council. In consequence, all civil engineering projects have been shelved indefinitely, and no contracts will be signed, pending the formation of a Committee of Public Works, when the sewers and drainage project will be put to tender again. But not until sometime next year. Neither is there any guarantee that we shall win it next time, since those who would have been the losers this time will doubtless submit reduced tenders.’

  ‘Then I shall pay my respects to Virginia today.’ He got up to go. ‘I’m not looking forward to it.’

  Metchley House was an impressive affair, designed and built by the architect James Wyatt. As befitted the Quaker family who commissioned it at the turn of the century, it was plain and unadorned. Its semicircular portico, set in the centre of its symmetrical façade, was the only concession to grandeur. It stood in immaculately manicured grounds, tangential to a gravelled drive that swept before it in a great arc through an arbour of tall elms and horse chestnuts. Robert drove his gig to a halt at the portico and rang the bell. A maid answered it.

  Naturally, Virginia was surprised to see him, but greeted him with an affectionate smile and asked what brought him there as she invited him into the drawing room. ‘I was writing a note to Mr Beese the florist, about my bridal bouquet.’

  ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you.’

  ‘Not at all, Robert, it’s lovely to see you,’ she said brightly. ‘I thought you were working today.’

  ‘The hard work hasn’t begun yet, Ginnie,’ he said solemnly, sitting down on a huge sofa. ‘I was able to get leave for a day. Slingsby Shafto is covering for me.’

  ‘How is Slingsby?’

  ‘Oh, as argumentative as ever. He’ll never change.’

  ‘It’s nice of you to think of me,’ Virginia said. Coupled with the fact that he was visiting on an unusual day at an unusual hour, she read his serious demeanour with apprehension as she sat primly at his side, twiddling her fingers in her lap. ‘Is something amiss, Robert?’

  ‘I’m sorry to say that there is, Ginnie. Something radically amiss.’

  ‘So … Out with it. It can’t be as bad as your face makes it out to be.’

  ‘Ginnie, I’m afraid it is,’ he began. ‘I have misled you … rather seriously.’

  ‘Misled me?’ The colour drained from her face and the sparkle seemed to leave her eyes. ‘How have you misled me?’

  ‘When I returned from Brazil I rather foolishly allowed myself to go along with your notion that we should be married on Christmas Day—’

  ‘Christmas Day was your idea,’ she corrected. ‘Are you saying that you wish to postpone it to a later date? Does it interfere with your work?’

  ‘No, not postpone it, Ginnie … cancel it. I want you to release me from my promise to marry you.’

  ‘That is such a pity, Robert.’ Her heart was pounding inexorably, her face an icon of anxiety. ‘I always think of Christmas Day as a combination of Sunday morning and Saturday afternoon. I never mind the Sunday morning part, the going to church, but the Saturday afternoon I find a bore. I was so looking forward to this Christmas being somewhat different …’ Tears were rolling down her cheeks. ‘I trust you have good reason for disappointing me.’

  ‘When I returned from Brazil,’ he said again, nervously concentrating on his fingernails so as to avoid her eyes, ‘I had actually made up my mind to tell you that I was no longer in love with you. I was about to tell you that I wished to marry the girl that had diverted me in the first place. Unfortunately, my mother seemed to have other plans. Because of her interfering I was diverted. I also felt extreme guilt at the misery I had caused you by going away. I could not find it within me to cause you more … Not then. I felt compelled to appease you …’

  ‘But all the time, your real wish was to ask for my release so that you could marry this other girl?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Such self-sacrifice, Robert … For me …’ She took a small handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her eyes. ‘I presume this other girl still feels the same about you after your time away?’

  ‘Yes … Without question.’

  ‘Ah! May I presume therefore that you have been seeing her meanwhile?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You should have let me know sooner, Robert. We are to be married in a month.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘All the arrangements have been made.’ She changed tack and got up from the sofa in a state of high agitation. ‘My father has gone to the enormous expense of converting the top floor of one wing of Metchley House into an apartment for us, and that only because the house he is having built for us as a wedding gift won’t be ready in time.’

  ‘What house?’ he queried, incredulous.

  ‘A house situated on Oakham Road, on the bend near to the hangman’s tree.’

  ‘Why has nobody mentioned this house to me before?’

  ‘Because it was to be a surprise,’ she said earnestly. Letting him know about the house at this moment was designed to make Robert feel even more guilty. But Virginia did not know Robert as well as she thought she did.

  ‘Well, it’s certainly a surprise, Virginia. But I’m amazed. Did it not occur to either you or your father that I might want to decide on my own house? And pay for it myself? I am not entirely without money.’

  ‘You are angry?’

  ‘Yes … but amazed and disappointed too … that you believed I would accept your father’s charity.’

  ‘It was to be a gift, Robert. It can hardly be construed as charity. It is being built as much for my benefit as for yours. Don’t you see?’

  ‘As if I couldn’t have provided something equally grand, is that it?’

  ‘No, Robert, that’s not it. My father regards you as his own son. He thinks the world of you. I don’t know what he’ll think when he knows you don’t approve of his wedding gift … that you wish to let me down …’

  ‘It is with very deep regret that I have to let you down, Virginia,’ he answered quietly.

  ‘You keep calling me Virginia … not Ginnie.’

  He shrugged. ‘So what? It’s of no consequence either way. It alters nothing. Will you please say that you release me from my betrothal?’

  ‘I don’t believe I can do that, Robert.’

  ‘But what is the point in not?’ His impatience was rising on the back of his indignation over the gift of a house. ‘What chance of success would a marriage between us have now in any case?’

  ‘It is more a question of my honour, don’t you think?’

  ‘Your honour will remain unsullied. You may tell the world that I am a cad, and everybody will declare you well rid of me.’

  ‘First you have to tell me who my rival is. Do I know her?’

  ‘If I tell you, will you agree to release me without further ado?’

  ‘It depends.’

  ‘On what? Whether you know her, or whether you approve?’

  ‘Oh, you can be sure I shall not approve, whoever she is. Even if she were the Queen of Sheba.’ Robert smiled to himself at the irony in that. ‘She is responsible for breaking my heart, for luring you away … I presume she is beautiful and wealthy?’

  ‘Oh, she’s beautiful, but as poor as a church mouse.’

  ‘Then I might even approve of her … eventually. So tell me who she is.’

  ‘Poppy Silk,’ he said.

  ‘Poppy?’ Virginia shrieked. ‘Oh, Robert, you don’t know what you’re doing. You cannot marry Poppy Silk. She is utterly beautiful, I grant you, but you cannot marry her.’

&n
bsp; ‘Why not indeed?’

  ‘Well, for a start, she is not what she seems. Neither will I be responsible for Bellamy’s unhappiness if I have it in my power to prevent it. You must surely know he has asked her to marry him?’

  ‘Yes, I’m well aware of it. I’m also aware that she hasn’t consented, even if he lives in hope. It has only occurred because Poppy and I have had to keep our liaison secret … But I’m also confused, Virginia …’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘You say you are anxious to prevent Bellamy from being unhappy, yet you obviously don’t give a fig whether I am or not.’

  ‘On the contrary, Robert. I happen to know that you would end up the unhappiest of men if you married Poppy Silk. Thus, I cannot let you do it. I will not let you do it. You will thank me in the long run.’

  ‘So you will not release me?’

  ‘Under no circumstances. It is for your own good, Robert.’

  ‘I see. Then I shall have to be dishonourable about this … I shall, of course, speak to your father.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bother yet, Robert. You’d get short shrift there.’

  ‘No doubt I shall.’

  ‘It might also be premature.’

  ‘I think not. Goodbye, Virginia.’

  ‘No, it’s not goodbye. I shall see you at the altar on Christmas Day.’ She then remembered the solemn vow she must make on her wedding day. It would be appropriate to say it now. ‘I will, Robert … Believe me …’

  Chapter 31

  At dinner that evening Robert was last to take his seat at the table. His older brother Oliver and his wife Clare had been invited, but not their children, who remained at home being cared for by their nanny.

  ‘Oliver … Clare,’ he greeted with a smile. ‘Good to see you both.’ Robert was not in great admiration of Oliver. He loved him as a brother but believed he was too much dependent upon his father’s whims, lacking the backbone to stand up for himself. Clare, however, was an intelligent girl, the same age as himself, with dark eyes and a pleasant smile. Robert liked her and wondered what it was she had seen in Oliver, although she was evidently happy and made the best of her marriage.

  Robert cast a glance at his father at the head of the table, polishing his steel-rimmed spectacles on his table napkin. Bellamy, slim and neat, handsome and fair-complexioned, was at Robert’s left. Bellamy was always easy-going and carefree. He had never known what it was to be short of money, to be away from home, or to be in danger. Robert glanced at his mother, a stately and chilly woman. She was fumbling absently with a gold cross and chain and watching the servants with a supervisory eye as they brought in soup and served it.