Break of Dawn

by Rita Bradshaw

  ‘But Sophy might not have room—’

  ‘If Tilly doesn’t go, you don’t go.’

  Patience tried one last time. ‘But how will you manage?’

  ‘Perfectly well. I shall eat at my club and Maud will see to the house.’ Maud was Tilly’s sister who lived close by and came each day for a few hours to do the washing and ironing and any other jobs Tilly designated. Maud’s husband, a miner, had been severely injured in a fall at the pit some years ago, and the generous wage William paid her had made all the difference to their standard of living. ‘But don’t stay away too long.’

  Patience stood up, walking round to her husband’s chair and putting her arms round him as she rested her chin on the top of his head. ‘Thank you,’ she said tenderly. ‘You’re a wonderful man.’

  ‘And flattery will get you no more concessions.’

  When Sadie answered the knock at the door in the late afternoon, she stared in surprise at the well-dressed couple standing on the doorstep, another woman peering out of the horse-drawn cab standing at the kerb. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘I’ve come to see my cousin, Mrs Shawe. My name is Patience Aldridge and this is my husband, Dr Aldridge. She wrote to me about – about what’s happened.’

  ‘I’m afraid Mrs Shawe’s at the theatre but if you would like to come in?’ Sadie stood aside as the couple entered the house, and when she glanced at them and then back at the woman in the cab, it was William who said, ‘My wife was wondering if Mrs Shawe would like her to stay for a few days. Family, you know? And due to my wife’s condition, I was insistent our housekeeper accompanied her. I have to get home immediately, I’m afraid.’

  Sadie thought quickly. She remembered Sophy saying something about a cousin who was expecting a baby about the time all the trouble occurred, but other than that she had no idea who this person was. Sophy never discussed her past. But she couldn’t very well say that.

  ‘How is she?’ Patience had taken a step forward. ‘Really, I mean?’

  Making a swift decision, Sadie said, ‘Mrs Shawe would tell you she is all right, ma’am, but to my mind she’s far from well. I think you staying for a bit would be just the ticket, if you don’t mind me saying so.’

  Patience’s thin shoulders relaxed. ‘Then that’s what I’ll do. And there’s room for Tilly?’

  ‘Of course, ma’am.’

  The next few minutes were all bustle. The cab driver helped William bring Patience’s and Tilly’s bags into the house, and then Patience and William said a fond farewell and he set off back to the train station in the same cab. Blessing the fact that on Sophy’s instructions, Toby’s bedroom had been emptied of all his possessions, and new curtains and bedlinen bought in a pale lemon shade as befitted a guest room, Sadie placed Patience’s bags in it. Tilly was to have the other, smaller room, similar to hers, at the back of the house.

  A few minutes later when she brought a tea tray into the drawing room Tilly jumped up, saying, ‘Let me help you with that, lass. And I’ll be obliged if you allow me to help you with the load, us turning up like this. I can’t abide sittin’ twiddlin’ my thumbs.’

  The two women smiled at each other, each liking what the other saw, and Patience relaxed a little more. She didn’t want to tread on anyone’s toes, least of all Sophy’s servant’s.

  By the time Sophy returned home from the theatre after her evening performance, Patience had been acquainted with the full facts concerning the happenings of three weeks ago, along with the life Toby had led his wife before the fateful night. She had listened open-mouthed, hardly able to believe what she was hearing, and then cried a little. But when Sophy walked in the door, Patience was calm and composed.

  ‘Patience?’ Sophy stared at her cousin in amazement as Patience rose from her comfy chair where she had been reading and came across to hug her. ‘What are you doing here?’

  The two embraced, Patience holding Sophy tight for a long moment before she murmured, ‘I had to come as soon as I heard. I’m so deeply sorry, Sophy. William, too. He sends his fondest love and said if there’s anything he can do . . .’

  ‘Where is he?’ Sophy glanced about her as though she expected William to leap out from behind the furniture.

  ‘He brought me here but he had to go straight home, due to work commitments. I thought I would stay on for a few days, if that is convenient?’

  Sophy was stunned. The last person in the world she’d expected to see sitting in her drawing room was Patience, and to be truthful she didn’t know how she felt about having her here. She spoke to few people these days, and then only when it was absolutely necessary. She rose even later in the mornings than she’d been accustomed to, went to the theatre and said her lines and returned home straight after the performance. In the interval between the matinée and evening show, she kept her dressing-room door closed and discouraged visitors. She knew she had retreated into herself and that Kane and Sadie, probably others too, were worried about her, but it was the only way she could cope. She didn’t want to see anyone and she didn’t need anyone. She wouldn’t let herself ever need anyone again.

  Politely, she said, ‘Of course you must stay,’ but with no enthusiasm in her voice.

  Ignoring the tone, Patience said, ‘Thank you.’

  Sadie knocked on the door and then came in with the usual tray of sandwiches and coffee which Sophy ate on returning from the theatre, Tilly following behind with a similar one for Patience. Patience introduced Tilly, explaining it had been William who insisted the housekeeper accompany her, and after the two servants had left the room, Sophy looked more intently at her cousin. ‘You’ve lost weight.’

  ‘I couldn’t keep anything down for what seemed a lifetime.’ Patience smiled, her hand unconsciously going to her swollen abdomen, and as Sophy’s gaze followed the action she became aware for the first time of the mound beneath Patience’s loose-fitting dress.

  Fascinated, she found she couldn’t tear her eyes away. ‘How many more weeks are there to go?’

  ‘Eleven or so, but the way it kicks and moves about I wouldn’t be surprised if it comes early. It seems impatient to see the world. It’s kicking now. Do you want to feel?’

  Without waiting for a reply, Patience took Sophy’s hand and placed it over the baby, who obligingly kicked for all it was worth. Sophy froze, but inside her something was happening to the lead weight plugging her emotions as though the core of it was melting. ‘Don’t be in a hurry to be born into this world, little baby,’ she whispered, so softly Patience could barely make out the words. ‘Stay where you’re safe and warm and protected.’

  The baby kicked again and now Sophy removed her hand to cover her eyes with both hands. She felt as though she was drowning in pain made up of a sadness and despair that came from the depth of her. It was cracking her ribs, a flood of molten misery that had its origins before Toby’s betrayal, before Cat’s death, even before finding out the truth of her parentage. It was the hurt and helplessness of a small child knowing itself to be unloved, of knowing it didn’t belong to anyone, that it was scorned and held as undesirable, but without knowing why.

  When the release came it was on a wailing cry which brought Sadie and Tilly running from the kitchen. Sophy was aware of Patience’s arms about her, of Sadie’s voice saying, ‘She hasn’t cried, that’s the thing. It’s not good if you don’t cry, is it? This’ll do her good in the long run, you mark my words,’ but she was beyond responding.

  After some minutes, the nurse in Patience took control. Still cradling Sophy in her arms, she looked up at Sadie. ‘Has she been prescribed anything to help her sleep?’

  ‘The doctor gave her some pills but she won’t take them.’

  ‘She’ll take them tonight,’ said Patience grimly. ‘Go and fetch them, please, with a glass of warm milk, and once they begin to take effect we’ll get her upstairs. I’ll stay with her tonight – she mustn’t be left.’

  It was another few minutes before Sadie and Tilly half-carried Sophy
to her bedroom where they undressed her like a child and got her into bed, a stone hot-water bottle at her feet. Patience came into the room a minute or two later in her nightdress, by which time Sophy’s crying had diminished to the odd hiccuping sob.

  ‘She’ll be all right, ma’am, won’t she?’ said Sadie, tears in her voice after Patience had thanked the two women for their help and told them she would take over now.

  ‘Of course she will. Didn’t you say yourself this will do her good?’ said Patience briskly, although she wasn’t feeling as confident as she sounded. This breakdown, if that’s what it was and she rather thought so, wasn’t just a result of the last few months, although no doubt they’d brought it to a head. She had been horrified when Sadie had confided what Sophy’s husband had put her through since their marriage, and of course Sadie wouldn’t know all of it. And this last act of his, the utter callousness of selling his wife to be made sport of by a group of young men – well, how did a woman recover from something like that? But for the cab driver Sophy had befriended, the unthinkable would have happened.

  Once Sadie and Tilly had left the room, Patience climbed into bed, saying softly, ‘I’m here, Sophy. You’re not alone. Try and sleep now, there’s a dear,’ as she extinguished the light.

  She wasn’t sure if Sophy was already asleep; she had given her an extra pill, knowing it was safe and would only send her cousin into a deeper sleep which was all to the good in the present circumstances.

  But after a moment, a small voice came in the darkness. ‘I can’t go on, Patience. This is the end. I thought marrying Toby, him loving me, was a new beginning, but it was all a lie from the start.’

  ‘Listen to me.’ Patience propped herself up on one elbow as she faced the mound under the coverlet. ‘This is only the end of one beginning, that’s how you have to think of it. You’ve made a wonderful life for yourself as a successful actress, you have a lovely home and lots of friends who care about you, not to mention myself and William – and Sadie, of course. What Toby did was unforgivable, but he’s paid for it. As William would say, if you live by the sword you are likely to die by it.’

  There was another pause before Sophy mumbled tiredly, ‘It’s not just Toby.’

  ‘I know, my dear. I know.’

  ‘How can you know?’ It was a whisper. ‘You had a mother and father who loved you, brothers, a family. And then William came along too. I – I’ve never had anyone who really loves me for who I am.’

  ‘I love you, Sophy. Not just as a cousin but as a sister, a dear sister. Please believe that. And you have so many friends—’

  ‘I don’t mean that sort of love.’

  ‘Sophy, you’re still young. You’ll meet someone else.’

  ‘That’s just it. I don’t want to.’ Through the exhaustion, a fierceness emerged. ‘I won’t ever put myself in that position again, Patience. I mean it. If you knew what the last years have been like, you’d understand why.’

  ‘But all men aren’t like Toby.’

  ‘And how do you know what a person is like until you are married? You can’t know, not really. No one can know. There are things you have to take on trust and I can’t do that again. I won’t do it.’

  ‘The way you are feeling now will pass, I promise you. I have nursed people who felt the same for various reasons, and as their bodies and minds healed, so did their emotions. You have been through a terrible ordeal, two terrible ordeals, and those against a background of years of unhappiness. At the moment your mind is saying it can’t cope, and no wonder, but as you recover you’ll feel differently, my dear.’

  Sophy let Patience talk on. She knew Patience meant well, perhaps her cousin thought she was losing her mind – she’d thought the same thing herself – but deep in her heart of hearts she knew the desolation she was feeling would prevail until the day she died. That’s why she had fought against feeling anything at all the last weeks. But unexpectedly, in a way she didn’t understand, Patience’s unborn child had opened Pandora’s Box and there was no going back to the state of numbness she’d been existing in.

  What she couldn’t explain to Patience, to anyone, was the feeling that she should have prevented some of what had happened. She should have made Cat ride with her that day; should have made Toby seek help for his addictions. The pills were dulling her mind, shutting out Patience’s soft voice and relaxing her limbs so that she felt she was sinking right through the bed.

  But Toby had never loved her, that was the thing. He had told her that many times over the last few years. If he had loved her, perhaps he would have listened to her. Why hadn’t he loved her? she asked herself muzzily. What was it about her that had made her unlovable to her husband, to her aunt and uncle? It had to be something in her, her fault . . .

  Her last thought before sleep overtook her was the prayer she’d prayed every night since the evening she’d returned home and found Forester-Smythe and his cronies waiting for her: don’t let me wake up, God. Take me while I sleep.

  Patience stayed on in London for six weeks. When Sophy looked back over that time in years to come, she knew she could never repay her cousin for her kindness. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Patience saved her reason. For the first week, Patience didn’t leave her side for a moment, encouraging her to talk out all her hurt and despair, letting her cry when she wanted to, insisting she ate and drank all the tasty meals and soups Sadie and Tilly provided, and making her take the sleeping pills each night.

  ‘You need to rest your mind, dear,’ she said, when Sophy protested after the third night. Sadie had told Patience about the pacing. ‘In a week or two you won’t need them, but just at the moment you do – and you will take them.’

  Sophy thought Patience must have been a formidable nurse.

  The second week, Sophy was allowed out of bed in the afternoons and she was surprised how this tired her. It was then she began to realise how physically exhausted she had been, and that Patience had been right to dispatch Sadie to the theatre the morning after her collapse with a note informing the manager that Mrs Shawe wouldn’t be well enough to return to work for at least a month, possibly two.

  The third week, Kane was permitted to call, and a few days later, Dolly and Jim. It touched Sophy that Patience hovered like an anxious hen with one chick the whole time, and by the fifth week Sophy was feeling better than she had in a long, long time.

  The day before William was due to take Patience and Tilly home, the four women spent a delightful afternoon shopping for the bassinet Sophy wanted to buy for the baby, along with so many other items, Patience was forced to protest. ‘Please let me,’ Sophy said quietly, when Patience demurred at the number of tiny outfits in Sophy’s arms. ‘I feel I am part of the family, doing this.’ Patience said no more after that.

  The day of departure was bitter-sweet for Sophy. She had known her cousin couldn’t stay for ever, and with Patience’s baby due in just over a month, it was high time her cousin returned home and prepared for the birth. Also, in the last few days, she had begun to look forward to returning to the theatre and letting life resume its normal pattern. It would signify the beginning of a new chapter in her life. Whereas, just weeks ago, this would have filled her with foreboding, now she found she could look to the future if not with optimism, at least with a clear idea of what she was going to do.

  She and Patience had had many long talks over the time they were together. They had talked about Cat and the manner of her death, the danger young women in the theatres and music halls could find themselves in from unwanted admirers and men like Forester-Smythe, the inequality which existed in the world between the sexes and how the Vote for Women would be the first stage of addressing this to some extent. Sophy had told her cousin how Cat and other actresses, dissatisfied with a male-dominated theatre and the manipulation of women, had entered the fight for the vote, sometimes at the cost of their career. And as they had talked, and argued on occasion as Patience did not support the militant tone the Women’s Suffr
age movement had taken of late, Sophy found her own opinions and views solidifying. Because Cat had cared so passionately about the vote she had gone along with supporting it without really thinking deeply for herself. Her work, the struggle of trying to make her failing marriage succeed, had taken centre stage. But now she was thinking for herself and she was angry. And yes, when Patience had gently suggested it, Sophy had agreed she was embittered too. What was more, she didn’t intend to apologise for it.

  As she stood on the doorstep in the late-summer sunshine waving Patience off, Sophy squared her shoulders. Never again would she let any man reduce her to the state she had been in when Patience had arrived. But that time was gone now: she was better, she wanted to live again. Her life had to have some purpose to it other than entertaining people in the theatre; she not only owed that to herself, she owed it to Cat. She would make a difference. She wasn’t quite sure how yet, but that would come.

  She had made a great mistake when she had married Toby. She had let love make a fool of her, and in a way she had perpetuated that mistake by trying to be a trusting wife, by supporting him and standing by him when in truth she should have left him years ago. But it was no good looking back. She had learned by her mistake and she wouldn’t make the same one twice. She was successful in her own right, she didn’t need a man to support her and she certainly didn’t need one in her home or in her bed.

  The cab disappeared round a corner and Sadie, who was standing just behind her, said, ‘Well, ma’am, it’s just the two of us again.’

  Thank God for Sadie. And that’s what she had to do. Count her blessings and get on with life. Turning, she smiled. ‘As you say, Sadie, it’s just the two of us.’

  PART SIX

  A Woman of Substance

  1909

  Chapter 22

  On the last day of September, Patience’s baby arrived a few days early. The birth had been a difficult one and the labour exhausting, but as soon as Patience saw her son the previous thirty-six hours were swept away in the rush of love she felt for her tiny little boy. Although he was small at six pounds, the baby was perfect and had a fine pair of lungs on him, which he used whenever he wanted feeding or changing. As William remarked after a week, he’d had no idea one so tiny could so quickly have a whole household dancing to his tune.