Wise Child

by Audrey Reimann

  She reached the house. Mr Leigh's motor car was outside, and for once she was glad. She could not call herself a coward for not demanding the truth in front of Mr Leigh.

  They were in the kitchen. Mam's face was flushed with drink. Lily sat down on a hard chair at the table, with shivers running from the back of her neck down her spine.

  Mr Leigh stood up, put out his hand and in his light, insincere voice said, 'Lily dear. I haven't seen you for weeks.'

  She pretended not to see his hand. 'Hello,' she said coldly.

  Mam had not noticed anything amiss. 'I think we'll tell Lily the sad news, Hah'd.' She said quickly, 'Poor Mr Leigh has lost his wife. Mrs Leigh died in a Southport nursing home after a long illness.'

  She made it sound like a newspaper announcement. 'Oh,' Lily said. Then since they were both silent, waiting for more, 'I am sorry.'

  Neither of them seemed the least bit sorry, and the whole scene and their excited manner was making her agitation worse. She wished she dared tell Mam to come to the bedroom and give her the facts. She couldn't. They were talking about where might be the best place for Mr Leigh to settle -Southport, Macclesfield or Manchester? His poor wife was not cold in her grave. She wanted to remind him of that, but what she heard herself saying was, 'I don't feel well. I'm going upstairs for a lie-down.'

  She ran upstairs and threw herself on to the bed, wallowing in self-pity. On Friday she'd go to Lindow and make Nanna tell her the truth.

  The following day they were sent home from school because of the bad weather. The boiler had gone out overnight and pipes had frozen and burst when the furnace was lit again. Lily kept out of Mam's way, cleaning the kitchen, tidying the workroom and her bedroom, her brain whirling with all the questions, wanting to cry for herself and the horror of it all, wishing she could rise above the feelings of shame that kept coming over her.

  ln the afternoon, when she could not stand her thoughts any longer, Doreen came to the house. Mam showed her into the kitchen but Lily couldn't pretend. 'What have you come round for?' she said, with such resentment that Mam rebuked her, 'Now then, our Lil.'

  Doreen threw a sweet, respectful glance at Mam. ‘You are a Silly Lily!' She gave that mirthless and explosive laugh. Mam was trying to keep her face straight. Doreen said, 'Your Mam's going to make my summer frocks.' She opened her coat, put her hands on her hips and admired her well-developed bust. 'I'm getting bigger in all the right places.' She made a taunting face, as if her figure were something to be proud of.

  Lily raised her eyebrows and said, 'Huh!' hoping it meant something.

  Mam said, ‘You are much too young to be talking this way, Doreen.' She frowned and without saying more went into the shop.

  There was more to Doreen's visit. Lily said, 'You haven't only come for that. What else do you want?'

  Doreen took off her coat and put it over a chair. 'Are you going to ask: me to sit down? Offer me a cup of tea?'

  They had an enormous kettle, always at the ready oft its hinged trivet over thefire. There were clean cups on the table and seeing nothing else for it, Lily took down the tea caddy and earthenware pot from the fireside shelf.

  Doreen had come to stand by her elbow, looking to the door and back to her. She tapped Lily's arm and whispered, 'You'll never guess who's got a girl into trouble. Who's put Mollie Leadbetter up the spout.'

  'Put her where?' Was she being stupid? 'Who…?’

  Ray Chancellor!'

  'Trouble? What sort of trouble?'

  Doreen's horrible laugh never spread to her eyes, but the eyebrows were lifted to heaven. 'You don't know?'

  Lily filled the teapot, resigned to having to listen. 'No, I don't.'

  Doreen jeered, 'No wonder everyone calls you Silly Lily.'

  'Everyone doesn't,' Lily said. 'You do.'

  'Never mind.' Doreen was all-knowing. 'Getting a girl into trouble means giving her a baby.'

  The metallic taste came into Lily's mouth. She tried to conceal the trembling in her hands by pouring the tea, while Doreen repeated, 'You know about babies? What men and women do? Sectional Intercourse?'

  'Course I know. Course I do!' Lily did not know it by its proper name of Sectional Intercourse, but she knew all about having babies. 'What has it to do with Ray Chancellor?'

  Doreen was exasperated. 'He's been a bad boy!' Then, seeing Lily had not grasped it all, 'A dirty lad! He's done what he shouldn't. He's done it to Mollie Leadbetter. Mollie Leadbetter's going to have a baby.'

  'No!' Lily's insides tightened. Her hands shook as she pushed a cup across the table to Doreen.

  Doreen's lips tightened. 'Yes! Albert Leadbetter went to see Frank Chancellor.'

  Lily took exception to Doreen's speaking about adults as if she were on familiar terms with them; calling Mr Leadbetter, that fierce little man who clumped about on a surgical boot, Albert. Doreen's familiarity was nowhere near as shocking as what she was saying, but Lily could not help but ask, 'Why do you call grown men and women by their Christian names behind their backs? You call Mam, Elsie. She never said you could. You call Mr Chancellor Frank. Now Mr Leadbetter is Albert.Why?'

  Doreen gave a long sigh and carried on with her story. 'Mr Leadbetter told Mr Chancellor that Ray has to marry their Mollie.'

  Lily tried to sound casual. She dared not let Doreen see the turmoil she was in. 'Are they going to marry, then?'

  Doreen was filled with importance. 'Frank. . . Mr Chancellor said, "It can't be my son. Ray wouldn't bring our name down. Ray's a schoolboy. Seventeen. The baby could be anyone's."

  Lily's voice had gone down to a whisper as her stomach knotted again. 'What's going to happen?'

  'Mollie Leadbetter's going to have to get rid of it.'

  'How d'you get rid of it?’ Lily was terrified Mam might come in.

  'No wonder you're Silly Lily.' Doreen took a sip of her tea. She smiled as she imparted it all. 'They are going to tie her legs up in the air so she can't move and then they push a long steel thing up her, inside her until it comes loose. Until she loses the baby.'

  Lily wanted to be sick. 'Who told you all this?'

  'I'm pally with Nellie Plant.'

  Lily had heard about the friendship. 'What's that to do with it?'

  'Nellie told me all about it. She tells me anything if I'll go to the back door of the Shakespeare for her for a jug of ale.' She laughed at the thought. 'She can’t hold her tongue when she's drunk.'

  'Does your mam let you go round to Nellie Plant's?' was all Lily could think of to say.

  'Don't talk daft!' Doreen said in a scornful voice. 'I tell them I'm at your house. Stopping in with you. Nellie told me how they do it. It's called a Bortion. She's had two done but she won't say who she's had sectional intercourse with.' Doreen was relishing every minute. 'Albert Leadbetter's blaming Ray Chancellor and saying it will be all over the papers and then what? Frank Chancellor says it wasn't Ray. Ray Chancellor says it wasn't him. Mollie Leadbetter's mother and father have to find twenty-five pounds to send their Mollie to a doctor in Manchester for a Bortion.'

  Doreen drank her tea with genteel sipping noises. Lily held her cup between ice-cold palms, trying to believe this was not happening to poor Mollie Leadbetter, trying not to think about this other terrible end to an unwanted child. 'How did you hear about it?'

  'I heard my dad telling my mam.'

  'When is it going to happen? The bortion?'

  'Today: Doreen said. 'Mollie's gone to Manchester.'

  Doreen had to be lying, but …'You saw Mollie and Ray Birchenough kissing, didn't you?' Lily said.

  Doreen's expression was one of sheer pleasure. 'I saw them doing it. Last November.'

  She had to be lying. Lily said, 'How? You've never been to their houses at night.’

  Doreen exploded, splattering tea all over the table. 'They don't do it in the house at night, you great...!'

  'Shut up!' Lily did not want to listen. She couldn't bear any more of it. 'Please, shut up.'

  Doreen stood and
glared, but her eyes were eager and her words came fast and scornful. 'I'm telling you, Lily Stanway. They were doing it standing up. They were by the Bollin, beyond the gennel in Spring Gardens. Under the railway bridge. Mollie's stockings and knickers were down round her ankles. Ray had one hand under her skirt. Mollie's jumper was up round her neck and he was playing with her titties. Mollie liked it. She was laughing and wriggling.’

  'Don't, Doreen! I don't want to hear!'

  But Doreen would not be stopped. 'Then he pushed her legs apart! Like this!' Here Doreen stood with her toes turned out, knees wide to demonstrate. 'And he dropped his trousers down. His behind was bare and he took his thing in his hand and pushed it hard up inside her.'

  Lily felt the blood drain from her face. 'Don't tell me any more!'

  Doreen's eyes glittered. Her face was pink with excitement. 'He was hurting her. Making her cry out, ‘Don't do that! No! Ray. No!" That's what she said, "No, Ray! No." She was crying and making a big long wailing noise and calling out for her mammie. "Oh, Mammie!" He took no notice and went on faster, making horrible grunting noises and pinning her against the wall so she couldn't get away. And he said, "Shut up!" He put his hand over her mouth to stop her crying until he'd done with her.'

  And Lily was crying; crying and trying to control herself in case Mam came in and asked why.

  Doreen wiped her mouth with her sleeve. 'They never saw me.' She picked up her coat and went out of the kitchen, high and mighty in her knowledge, and then Lily heard her in the shop, being sweet and respectful to Mam before she went home with the pattern books.

  She hated Doreen then. Doreen must be making it up. Doreen and she were not allowed out on to the streets at night, so how could she have followed anyone in the dark? She couldn't have seen anyone doing those things. There was one single gas lamp on the other side of the Bollin. It would be pitch black under the railway bridge. Nobody could see anything. Ray Chancellor would have been at school in Edinburgh last November. And even if Doreen had followed a couple of lovers on a December night, what kind of girl was she to make up wicked lies about Ray Chancellor? What kind of a girl would spy on poor, half-witted little Mollie?

  Between Monday and Friday her mind turned it all repeatedly - Mollie Leadbetter's getting into trouble and the shame of her own birth. They sewed in the evenings, working quietly, Mam smoking and sipping her port, listening to the BBC on the beautiful wireless with a loudspeaker horn that sat on a little table in the comer of the room. Hidden under the table were two accumulator batteries. Mr Chancellor had set it up for them and taught them how to connect the wires to the batteries.

  On Thursday night there was a talk by an old doctor, who said that young women were risking wrinkles and consumption with their abnormal lives: nights of frivolity and days of excitement, coupled with poisons like tobacco and alcohol. Across the table Mam was smoking and drinking and unwrinkled, and as Lily watched she thought how little she knew about her mother; how unpredictable Mam was. She had not been drinking hard or gossiping this week.

  Lily wanted to unburden herself of guilt for having read the medical record, but she could not bear to hurt Mam or discover· that she, Lily, was the result of any dirty business under the railway bridge.

  Then, on Friday, she came home at midday to find Mam already seated at the table, silent and preoccupied.

  Lily said, 'You haven't forgotten? I’m going to Nanna's after school. I won’t be home till Sunday.'

  'I've remembered.'

  'You are quiet.'

  Mam leaned back slowly in her chair and pushed her plate away. It was fried fish, and normally she ate most of it. Today she was pale, with washed-out eyes.

  'What's the matter?' Lily asked.

  'Mollie Leadbetter's dead.' Mam spoke in a whisper. 'They rushed her into the Infirmary last night.'

  A cold trickle of horror ran down Lily's spine. "What happened?'

  'Septicaemia, Lil.'

  'Oh, Mam.' The knife and fork slid from her fingers. 'Was it true? Nellie Plant told Doreen about taking a baby out Mollie.'

  There was a little silence before she heard Mam's shuddering breath. Then, 'Yes,' Mam said in a dead voice. 'Poor child. Sixteen, that's all she was.'

  Lily wanted to cry but no tears came, only numbing coldness.

  'There'll be an inquiry,' Mam said, in the same quiet voice 'It's an illegal act, doing away with a pregnancy. I don't t think Mollie can have a Christian burial. You can't if it's suicide and that's an illegal act.'

  ‘Doreen said it was Ray Chancellor's baby. She said would have to marry Mollie to make it legal and right. Is it true?'

  Mam slammed her hand down on the table. 'It won't bring Mollie back, knowing who's responsible. But since you and Doreen... No! I believe Frank. Chancellor is the best-respected name in Macclesfield. Ray would never bring disgrace on his mother. And under all his importance and bluff, Frank is a man of principle. Frank would have taken care of Mollie if he thought his son...'

  But it was bluff with Mam, too. She put her hands about her face and began to sob, great gulping sobs that shook the table. 'Oh!' she cried. 'Oh! I can't bear to think about it.'

  Nor could Lily. If she were hard she might have said, 'Suppose it had happened to you, Mam?' She would have learned the truth there and then, Mam was in such a state. Lily was ashamed of her thoughts. Mam had kept her secret perhaps with good reason. Lily ought not to feel sorry for herself. She was alive and lucky to have been born; lucky Mam had not done away with her and risked dying from the operation, like Mollie Leadbetter.

  Chapter Ten

  'Poor little Mollie. There'll be another death. See if I'm right.'

  Nanna prophesied another death on Saturday, at Lindow. Lily sat with her head leaning against the back of the settee, waiting her moment to ask Nanna for the truth. Nanna was sitting close to the fire, her crochet hook twisting slowly in and out of the piece of work she was doing. Normally she did not sit in the afternoon, yet here she was, at only three o'clock, crocheting by the fire like an old woman.

  Grandpa had gone to the bottom field to fetch the horses in and bed them into loose boxes, out of the icy-cold easterly wind that had been blowing sleet and rain before it all week. 'Grandpa's taking a long time,' Lily said.

  'It’s too much for him now. He can't keep them much longer. Four horses to fetch in,' Nanna said. 'They should be out all day in March. And Grandpa's slowing.' Nanna gave one of her perceptive looks. 'What is it, Lily? You've been waiting till Grandpa's gone to get me to yourself. What's matter?'

  'I hope you don't mean Grandpa.' Lily stared into the flames. 'Talking about dying.' Nanna was nearly always right in her prophecies.

  'I don't mean Grandpa. I wish I’d never said it.' Nanna put down her crochet. 'I asked, what's up?'

  'Everything...' Lily hesitated, wanting to ask, dreading it and saying. 'I don't like seeing Mam upset.'

  'Poor Mollie Leadbetter...'

  'And Mr Leigh's wife,' she reminded Nanna.

  Nanna's fingers stopped. 'Who?'

  'Howard Willey-Leigh. His wife died.'

  Nanna looked puzzled. 'I thought she must a' died long since.'

  'She had been in a nursing home for years.' Lily tried to say it carelessly, and then, in a shaky voice. 'Do you like him, Nanna?'

  'Don't you?' Nanna's brows came together in two deep lines ‘What would you thinl of Mr Leigh for a father?'

  'I hate him!' Lily leaped to her feet. 'I don't want Mam married to anyone except my own true father.'

  'I am sorry, Lil.' Nanna struggled to her feet and held out her arms. 'I was mistaken. I shouldn't a' said it.'

  Lily shrugged out of Nanna's embrace and went to the window, pretending to look up the lane for Grandpa. She heard Nanna behind her, poking the fire. She had upset Nanna. It was the first awkward silence ever between them, and she heard Nanna saying softly, 'Two deaths. There will be another.' Then, 'Don't tell Grandpa, Lil. He says superstition is devil's work.'

  She
had upset her darling Nanna. Lily tried to do the trick of the mind, concentrate on something, think about the RSA exams, but it didn't work. She stared through the little leaded squares of glass into the fading white light of the late afternoon that made the lane and the drystone walls, the bare trees and the distant hills appear soft and smoky, the edges blurred. She tried to concentrate on the view. That didn't work either, but her anger had gone and her courage had come.

  She turned and looked straight at Nanna. 'I saw my medical record. It said, "Miss Elsie Stanway". Miss not Mrs. It said, "Father unknown".'

  The colour drained from Nanna's face. 'You know…’

  'Why did you lie, Nanna? You taught me that hiding the truth was as bad as lying.' Nanna's lying to her had hurt almost more than anything.

  Nanna was deathly pale. 'It wasn't my secret to tell.'

  Lily drew in a long breath to steady herself. 'Who was my father?'

  'I don't know.'

  Lily could not believe that Mam had kept her secret from everyone. Nanna was pale, but Lily said in a voice that belied her tight, aching throat, 'You must know. You're Mam's mother.'

  'This is dreadful. I never expected this.' Nanna's voice was weak. 'Your Mam refused to name him.'

  'Why?' Lily's throat went tighter. 'Wouldn't she tell Grandpa?'

  Nanna went to stand in front of the fire. Then, in a great effort at self-possession, she drew a deep, steadying breath. 'Grandpa demanded but I wouldn't have given tuppence for his life if our Elsie had told him who was responsible.' She added softly, 'Your grandpa asked, "Is be alive?" and Elsie said ‘yes.'

  Lily's control was going. 'But if he was alive, then...'

  Nanna's eyes were full of sadness. 'I said to Elsie, "You will have to tell the child, one day." And she said, "It happens all the time. It's nobody's business but the mother's."

  'But if it happens all the time, children could grow up not knowing their own brothers and sisters. Marrying them...' Lily whispered.