by Annie Murray
Maryann laughed, patting Jep, who had greeted them wagging not just his tail but the whole of his body. She felt she could manage anything so long as Joel was going to get better and be beside her. ‘I’ll ’ave to get good strong arms, that’s all! It’s a killer on yer shoulders working on ’ere.’
‘Bet I could manage,’ Nance said, prodding her muscles. Nancy had always had a robust frame and now she was thinner she looked wiry and strong, like a greyhound.
Maryann saw Darius watching Nance appraisingly. ‘Reckon you could,’ he said.
They wound along between the smoking factories, the wharves and warehouses, down the Worcester Canal, moving south. As they glided out through the Edgbaston tunnel to Bournbrook then Selly Oak, the route became greener. Trains chugged past to their right and occasionally the sun broke through the cloud and transformed the dull, scummy ripples to silver. After a short time Maryann had taken up her favourite position on the cabin roof, her hand stroking Jep who sat panting beside her. Coots and moorhens scooted away from the bow of the boat. Butterflies shimmered round flowers in the grass. She took deep, contented breaths. However hard this life, whatever the struggle, this was what she wanted: this was her place and these were her people. Somehow it seemed to have chosen her.
Nance stayed with Darius at the stern and Maryann could hear him instructing her how to work the tiller. Often she heard Nancy’s laughter and smiled. It was so good to hear Nancy enjoying herself. She felt herself swelling with happiness, everything else forgotten except that she was here and Joel was getting better. She throbbed with love and longing for him. If only he could be here today, it would be perfect!
They tied up at Selly Oak. Jep pottered off to explore the towpath while they ate bread and cheese that Nancy had brought. Darius had some plums on board, the skins a beautiful reddish orange that seemed to contain the very sunshine that had ripened them. They were sweet and delicious, and they spat the stones overboard.
‘So’re we gunna turn round ’ere then?’ Nance asked.
Darius laughed. ‘You can’t just turn ’er anywhere. The cut’s narrower than the boat – look.’
‘Oh yes—’ Nance chuckled. ‘So it is. I never thought about that before!’
‘You ’ave to find a winding ’ole where you can turn – it’s just keep going otherwise.’
All morning he had been explaining things to her. Maryann had never heard him speak anything like as much before. She watched them as they perched together at the stern, eating their lunch. It was only then it truly dawned on her. It was so clear in their eyes, the way Darius looked at Nance, her radiance in his presence. However much they tried to hide it, to behave normally, she could see the two of them were falling deeply in love, and she was filled with dread and sorrow.
Maryann turned away from them. What Nance had said this morning, But now I know there’s summat more . . . Had she just been talking about what Maryann and Joel had? She hadn’t, had she? She had been saying so much more. She could hear their voices behind her, and it only increased her sense of disquiet. She thought of Mick and pitied him. But she pitied Nance just as much, and Darius for his lonely, hardworking existence.
There came another peal of laughter from Nance; a youthful, carefree sound.
God, Nance, Maryann thought, just keep yourself under control.
Whatever happened, if they gave rein to their feelings, someone was going to end up broken-hearted.
‘Look who I’ve brought!’
Joel was just waking as they arrived and Maryann leaned down and kissed him tenderly. He returned the kiss, clasping her hand, then caught sight of his brother.
‘Darius!’ He made a couple of attempts and finally managed to haul himself up. ‘Damn it – I keep forgetting I’m weak as a kitten!’
‘This is my friend Nance – she’s putting me up for the time being.’
‘Putting up with ’er more like.’ Nance laughed. ‘Nice to meet yer at last.’
‘We’ll go out for now,’ Maryann said, taking Nance’s arm firmly. She had words to say to her. ‘Let you two ’ave a chat.’ She knew Darius was going to have to tell Joel about Mr Barlow.
‘What’s going on, Nance?’ she demanded in a fierce whisper, once they were out in the corridor. There was a constant flow of people up and down, nurses and visitors, so no one took much notice of them.
‘What’re you on about?’
‘You – making up to Darius, that’s what.’ Maryann found she was furious and boiling over with frustration. Of course Darius and Nance were right together! It stood out a mile. When she was with him, Nance was the happy, laughing person she had been before her marriage. She should be able to be with him and spend her life with him. But it couldn’t be like that because Nance was Mrs Mallone and Mrs Mallone she would have to stay.
Nance looked crestfallen. ‘Oh Lor’, Maryann – does it show that much? I never meant it – I know ’ow wrong it is. Only whenever I’m near ’im I just can’t help myself. I know ’e likes me – you can tell, can’t yer? I just feel so right when ’e’s here. Oh, I’d give anything. . . .’ She looked appealingly at Maryann. ‘Look – I know why yer going on at me. But Darius’ll be gone soon and once you’re away I’ll never see ’im again. I’ll just ’ave to swallow the fact. Let me enjoy today, that’s all.’ With tears in her voice she finished, ‘Then I’ll ’ave to get back to my proper life.’
They pulled back into the Gas Street wharves in the cool late afternoon.
Maryann had been leading Bessie for the last part of the journey, patting her and talking to her to encourage her. Despite the horse’s obvious weariness she seemed happy enough to plod along. There were few flies to bother her and it wasn’t too hot.
‘I’m going to miss you, Bessie,’ she murmured, kissing her hot, smooth neck. ‘What’s going to become of you, eh?’
When she had gone back in to see Joel, Maryann looked anxiously to see how he was taking the news about the Esther Jane, but he looked calm enough.
‘You’ve told ’im then?’ she asked Darius.
‘We’ll still have our home.’ Joel looked at her and she swelled inside with happiness. ‘After all this I’m happy knowing I’m going to be alive. Everything else comes after that.’
As the afternoon wore on, she felt increasingly that she should leave Darius and Nance alone together and give them a chance to say anything that needed to be said.
She was walking ahead of the Esther Jane with Bessie, but once when she looked back she saw that Darius had an arm round Nance’s shoulders, their faces were close as they talked with obvious intensity. The shortage of time together had speeded up events. Maryann looked away, full of sorrow.
When they had tied up and stabled Bessie and it was time to say goodbye, Nance could contain herself no longer. Maryann had come back from the stables, tearful at parting with Bessie, to find her and Darius in each other’s arms. Seeing it was time to go home, Nance also burst into tears.
‘Oh, I can’t leave yer, Darius. I can’t – it ain’t right. Today’s been the best day of my life – I just want to stay with you!’
‘I know,’ he said, gently trying to loose her from him, though Maryann could see how little he really wanted to. ‘But you can’t just come with me, Nancy. You’re married – it’d be wrong.’
‘Why’s it wrong when I don’t love ’im? I love you. Oh, I’ve said it now—’ She stood sobbing, distraught, beside the Esther Jane. ‘But that’s how it is. I’ve never loved ’im and now I’m stuck with ’im and it ain’t right!’
‘Oh Nancy . . .’ Darius put his hand on her shoulder, casting a desperate look at Maryann. ‘You don’t know what I’d give for things to be different . . . I’d like you as my wife, and that’s the truth of it . . .’
Still weeping, Nance thrashed her hands back and forth through the air in furious frustration. ‘It ain’t fair. Why do things ’ave to be as they are – eh? Why did I go and say I’d marry Mick? It was so stupid – stupid . . . as if
’e was the only man who was ever going to come along!’
‘Come on, Nance—’ Maryann said gently. ‘We’re going to ’ave to get home . . .’
‘Go on—’ Darius said, his voice cracking. ‘Please – go now.’
They held each other one last time before Darius pulled away and stepped down into the Esther Jane. He ducked into the cabin as if he could not bear to watch them both walk away.
Forty-One
On Monday morning Maryann set off to find Amy and Margaret again. It was a cool, overcast morning with a definite nip of autumn and she was worried that the girls might not come to the park. If they didn’t come out she would be forced to go to the house. She knew she had to see them.
It had been a difficult weekend. Nance was as low as Maryann had ever seen her and she had spent as much time with her as possible, trying to console her and keep her mind away from Darius. Maryann had gone to Mass with her and Mick, and Nance kept filling up with tears all the way through.
‘What the hell’s the matter with you?’ Mick demanded when they stepped outside the church.
‘Nothing you’d ever understand,’ Nance snarled at him which sent Mick swearing off into the distance in a temper.
‘I feel as if my life’s over,’ Nance sobbed to Maryann.
All weekend she had been casting hateful looks at Mick. Maryann felt terrible for her, but they both knew Nance was going to have to settle down and forget Darius.
On Sunday when Maryann went to see Joel he was sitting up waiting for her.
‘They’ve said another week or so and I can be off out of here!’ He beamed. ‘Oh – I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to breathe in fresh air. Just the idea of being able to go out and walk round outside seems – well, I can hardly take it in!’
‘Oh Joel – I can’t wait until we can be together,’ Maryann said. She was desperate to leave Nance’s house with all its unhappiness. Although she felt guilty about leaving Nance there was nothing she could do about her situation. She longed to get on with her life with Joel after all the waiting.
‘We’ll ’ave to start fixing up a wedding day.’ Joel looked into her eyes with a sense of wonder. ‘Little Maryann – and you’re going to be my wife.’
She smiled back, face alight with happiness. ‘Soon as we can manage,’ she said.
He stroked a finger gently down her cheek. ‘We can share everything that comes – best mates, eh?’
She thought about this as she walked to Handsworth. Joel had said they could get married in Oxford, near to where his auntie lived and where old Darius Bartholomew was recuperating.
‘But if you want to get wed here – so your family can come,’ he said. ‘We could think of that instead?’
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘My mom won’t come wherever my wedding is. I might be able to get our Tony down for it, but your family’s my family now, Joel. Oxford’s lovely and it’ll suit me fine.’
She felt strong and joyful inside, as if nothing could ever harm her again, Joel’s love warming and strengthening her. Her only anxiety was his leaving hospital so soon. Where were they going to go if Darius didn’t get back? But even this didn’t seem insurmountable. She still had some money left. If necessary they’d have to rent somewhere until the Esther Jane was ready. She wouldn’t stay with Nance any longer than she had to. She felt she’d already brought enough trouble into her life.
Turning into the park she looked round for the girls. It was much quieter today, an end of summer quiet. School was due to begin the next day. With a sinking feeling of dread she thought for a moment that they weren’t there. It was almost midday – this was when she had found them before.
After a moment strolling round she spotted them over by the pond, both kneeling, peering down into the water. Her heart went out to them.
‘Hello, girls,’ she said softly.
Still kneeling side by side, they swivelled round together so that the tops of their heads were almost touching. Their eyes held the usual closed blankness, though she thought she saw a flicker of welcome in the older girl’s expression. Amy stood up slowly.
‘Hello.’
Margaret turned away.
‘I thought I’d come and see you – school tomorrow, ain’t it?’
Amy nodded.
‘I’ve er . . . I’ve got some nice peanut toffee – d’yer want some?’ She felt like a wicked witch in a fairy story, luring them with sweets, but she had to get them to come and sit with her somehow. Margaret just shook her head and carried on facing the other way.
‘I’ll ’ave a bit,’ Amy said. ‘Please,’ she added.
‘’Ere – I’ll sit down next to yer,’ Maryann said, tucking the skirt under her on the grass, sitting quite close to Margaret. Even if she couldn’t get her to come and sit with them she wanted to be sure she heard what she was going to say. Amy sat on her left, chewing the toffee, her legs bent, leaning sideways on one arm.
There was no point in dilly-dallying. She had to say something.
‘Look, Amy – you must’ve thought it was a bit strange me coming and seeing yer in the park. I mean it’s been nice for me getting to know you a bit – but there’s another reason why I’ve been coming.’
Amy’s hair was hanging half across her face and she didn’t look up but Maryann could tell she was listening.
‘I’ve seen your stepfather – going to his shop and that. I know he calls himself Arthur Lambert, but the truth is, that ain’t his name. Or at least that ain’t always been his name.’ Her heart was beating terribly hard. Was she wrong to do this, was she? She forced herself on. ‘The thing is – I used to know ’im under another name. He was called Norman Griffin and he was my stepfather an’ all – when my sister and me were not much older than you are now. And . . .’
She swallowed, almost unable to go on. Amy cast her a quick glance, then looked down again. Margaret was sitting by the water, absolutely still.
‘The thing is – when ’e was living with us, he daint treat us like . . . like a dad ought’ve done. He was . . . bad. ’E . . .’ She took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Oh God help me for saying this to yer!’ She spoke with her gaze fixed on Amy’s face, watching for her reaction to her words. She didn’t want to leave them in any doubt as to what she was admitting to them, but she was trembling as she spoke.
‘He was wicked, the way he was with us. At night he came to our rooms and . . . and made us do things – things children ain’t s’posed to do – and he made us feel dirty and different to everyone else . . .’
She couldn’t go on. Her voice was choked with tears. Looking at Amy she saw that the girl had turned her head and it was tilted so that her hair completely hid her face. She had brought her hand up and pressed it tightly over her lips. The gesture spoke more loudly than any words.
Maryann wiped her eyes, trying to control herself. Very slowly and gently she reached out her hand and pushed the girl’s hair aside.
‘Amy? I was so frightened of speaking out of turn and getting it wrong. Is it . . . is he still the same?’
She released Amy’s hair and watched her. There was a long pause during which Maryann almost despaired of an answer. But then the coppery hair began to quiver and she saw the girl was nodding. A quick, frightened nod.
‘Oh God,’ Maryann gasped. ‘You’re saying yes, ain’t you, Amy?’
This time the nod was more definite.
‘You poor things . . .’ She wanted to reach out and take the child in her arms, but she restrained herself. Half whispering she said, ‘What about . . . Margaret?’
Again the nod, more vigorously this time.
‘Your mom – does she know anything about it?’
This time a shake of the head.
They all sat in silence for a minute. Margaret had still not turned round.
Maryann sat thinking furiously. Her own mother had not believed her. Why should theirs be any different? She had her life to protect, her security. And Norman was so smooth and respecta
ble. Why would the woman listen to a complete stranger?
‘There’s one more thing I want to tell you, Amy. My name’s not Esther Bartholomew like I told you. I daint want to tell you my real name in case you mentioned it at home in front of him. I’m Maryann Nelson – you can call me Maryann. Look, I can’t promise you anything, Amy. I don’t know if I can make it stop – if I was to see your mom. She won’t want to hear it. But d’you want me to try?’
Amy’s head swung round and for the first time she looked into Maryann’s eyes. Her own were full of tears. Never had Maryann seen a more desperate, yearning face.
‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘Make it stop.’
‘Come on then.’ Maryann stood up and Amy did the same. ‘It’s now or never, Amy.’
She looked warily at the younger girl. Amy went to her.
‘Margaret – come on. We’re going ’ome. This lady’s coming with us.’
Margaret slowly, almost mechanically it seemed, got to her feet and turned to come with them. As she did so the blank expression in her young eyes chilled Maryann to the bone.
Maryann brought her hand up to knock at the door. Amy had been about to open it but she said, ‘No – wait. I can’t just go walking into your mom’s house. I’ll knock first.’
She was terrified, her knees like jelly, yet somewhere in her she was also triumphant. No longer did she have to feel wicked, to be told she was imagining things. She was not alone. She and these girls could stand together.
‘She’ll be cross,’ Amy said uncomfortably as Maryann knocked. ‘Takes ’er a while to get to the door.’
They heard her moving painfully along the hall. When the door opened Maryann suddenly found herself looking into the face of the auburn-haired woman. There were lines across her forehead and at the corners of her mouth which indicated that she suffered pain. She had pale skin, lightly freckled, wide eyes of a deep blue and a gentle, patient expression. Maryann was reassured. Her face was not the tight, bitter mask her mother had taken on through her hardships.
