by Rosie Clarke
‘You’ve let yourself down, Emma.’
‘Yes, I know.’ A sob escaped me. ‘I wish I hadn’t.’
‘If your father suspected—’ She gasped as she suddenly guessed why I had gone to see Paul that afternoon. ‘No! Oh, my God! What are we going to do? Harold will be furious.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. Paul said he would marry me. I believed him.’
‘There’s no chance of that, I suppose?’
‘No. I should have known, Mum. His family would never have allowed it even if …’ I blinked rapidly but warded off another bout of weeping. ‘His cousin is going to make him pay me something for the child’s keep.’
Mother frowned. ‘What are you saying? Harold will make your life a misery but he won’t throw you out. He wouldn’t want to pay anyone else to do your work.’
‘He doesn’t have to know, Mum. I could go away and find myself a job somewhere else. If Paul helps me to keep the child, I need not stay here.’
‘Supposing he won’t? Do you realize how hard things could get? Bringing up a child alone isn’t easy.’
‘Yes.’ I looked her in the eyes. ‘I know it won’t be easy, but it’s better than staying here and having Father take it out on us both. It might not be so bad if he thinks I’ve gone off because I’m not satisfied with my wages.’
‘He would raise the roof …’ She was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I could give you a pound or two. Nothing much, but enough to pay your fare and rent for a week or two.’
‘I’ve got five pounds. Mr Reece lent it to me. I shall pay him back when Paul gives me the money.’
‘Oh, Emma.’ My mother started to cry softly. ‘I never thought this would happen to you … not you.’
‘I’m sorry, Mum. Please forgive me. Please!’
She held her arms open and I moved into them. We embraced, both weeping.
‘I shall miss you,’ she said, ‘but I think perhaps it’s best that you go. If you are set on going it should be quickly, before your father finds out—’
‘Finds out what?’ The harsh, angry voice made us both freeze. Mother released me as we both swung round, staring into Father’s cold, hard eyes. ‘Running away, Emma? Don’t I pay you enough?’ His gaze narrowed as I remained silent. ‘Or is there another reason for this sudden flight? Perhaps I can guess.’
He took a step towards me, raising his fist as if to hit me. I retreated two steps, but continued to face him defiantly. Something in my eyes must have made him hesitate, because he merely shook his fist at me, his expression one of disgust. ‘You deserve a thrashing, you little slut! I’ve a good mind to take my belt to you.’
‘No, Harold!’ my mother cried. ‘Don’t you dare hit her. I’ll leave you and take her with me if you do.’
‘Leave? You?’ He turned disbelieving eyes on her. ‘You haven’t the courage to walk out on me. You never did have.’
‘I mean it, Harold.’
He moved towards her, his lips curled in a sneer. I thought he was going to hit her and I rushed towards him, but he pushed me away and turned his blazing eyes on her.
‘You bitch!’ he snarled. ‘Do you think I don’t know why you married me? It wasn’t the money, was it? It was the bastard you were carrying in your belly. You were frightened of the gossips. You married me rather than let everyone know your shame.’
‘No! That isn’t true,’ she cried, her face proud despite the fear in her eyes. ‘I’ve sworn it enough times, Harold. Emma is your daughter. I tripped and fell – that’s why she was born early. I give you my word she is yours. Fetch the Bible and I’ll swear on it again if you wish.’
‘You’re a lying whore – just like your daughter.’
He gave her a rough push towards the door, making her stumble and almost fall.
‘Get out of here. I want to talk to Emma alone.’
She struggled but he was too strong for her. She was forcibly ejected and the door locked behind her. She beat against it with her fists, screaming at him defiantly.
‘If you hurt her I shall leave you – and I’ll tell everyone what kind of a man you really are. I’ll blacken your name in this town, Harold Robinson. I mean it! See if your customers will buy from you then. People will spit at you in the street!’
‘Be quiet, woman. I’ll deal with you later.’
‘Don’t hurt her,’ I said as he turned to me. ‘Please, Father. This isn’t her fault. It’s mine. I know I’ve done wrong. If you want to take it out on someone – make it me. Thrash me with your belt. I deserve it.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘It’s what I ought to do. I ought to break your neck before I let you bring shame on my name.’
‘Do it. I deserve it.’ I met his glaring look without flinching. ‘If you don’t, I shall leave this house in the morning.’
‘You won’t leave, nor will your mother. I’ll make certain of that. You will stay in this room until I decide what to do about this.’
‘Why don’t you let us leave? Since you hate us both so much.’
‘And have the whole town laughing at me?’ He shook his head. ‘The only reason I didn’t throw your mother out years ago was because I had my pride. She cheated me of my rights, Emma. I could have thrown her out, shown her up for what she was – but I’m not one for washing my dirty linen in public.’
‘She made a mistake.’ I looked at him, searching for any hint of softness in his face, any kindness. ‘Couldn’t you have found the strength to forgive her?’
‘I might have – if she’d shown any sign of caring.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You’ll not get round me, Emma. I’ll not have you flaunting your shame to the world.’
‘You can’t keep me locked up forever.’
‘Who’s to stop me? Be sensible, girl!’ He glared at me, torn between frustration and his determination to have his way. ‘Let’s sort this business out as best we can. You’re not much use to me here are you? I want you back in the shop where you belong.’
‘I don’t want to work for you.’
‘Then you’ll stay here until you come to your senses!’
He took a step towards me and I thought he was going to hit me. Then he shook his head.
‘No. I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Emma. It’s her I’ll punish. Remember that. Every time you defy me she suffers.’
‘That isn’t fair. She isn’t strong. You know that.’
‘Think on it. I’ll give you until the morning to come to your senses. Work for me, and I’ll treat her fair, same as I always have. She would have had worse treatment from some, believe me. A lady of leisure she’s always been, with a woman to come in and do the heavy work. There’s not many of her friends can claim that, for all her grumbling.’
I looked at him and wondered if he had loved her at the beginning. Perhaps all the faults had not been on his side. How was I to know? I had never asked him why he was so harsh with her. I had thought him hard and uncaring, but it must have hurt him to know she had never really loved him.
‘I know that, Father. It’s just …’ I shook my head, refusing to plead with him. However hurt he might have been in the past, he had no need to threaten her because of what I’d done. I looked at him resentfully. ‘You don’t have the right to force me to work for you.’
‘Don’t I?’ His mouth hardened and I knew he was angry again. ‘Think of it from my side for once. I’ve looked after the both of you, and many a man would have treated you worse. You’ve got until morning, Emma. After that I’ll start punishing her for your sins.’
He went to the door, unlocked it and showed me the key. ‘This stays in my pocket until you give me your word you’ll do whatever I decide is best.’
‘You can’t do that!’
‘Just watch me.’
Mother opened the door, her face pale, eyes desperate.
‘Emma,’ she cried. ‘Don’t give into his blackmail—’
He grabbed her by the arm, pushing her back out of the door again.
‘Don’t hurt her! P
lease,’ I begged, tears starting to my eyes. I was desperate to stop all this anger and bitterness, and I knew I had deserved my father’s anger. ‘I will work for you, if that’s what you want. I shan’t leave. I promise. I promise, Father.’
He gave my mother a shove backwards: she lost her balance, fell to the floor in the hallway and lay there gasping for breath. Father stared at her for a moment, and I thought there was a hint of pain in his eyes as he reached out and pulled her roughly back to her feet, but the pain – if it was ever there – was replaced by anger as he looked at me again.
‘I’m locking you in for the night,’ he said quietly. ‘Think about this, Emma. Think about what happens if you break your word. If you run off behind my back I’ll find you, I promise. I’ll find you one day. And you’ll both regret it.’
I closed my eyes as he locked the door behind him. He was determined to keep me here, and it seemed I had no choice.
I sank to my knees on the floor, all the defiance crushed out of me. I had always known my father had a violent temper. But until this evening, I had not suspected the awful truth behind his harsh treatment of both me and my mother.
Harold Robinson did not believe I was his child.
Chapter Seven
At last my tears had dried. I had hardly slept all night and now felt drained of emotion, frightened and unwell. What was I going to do – what could I do? I knew Father would eventually have to let me out of my bedroom, because I was of very little use to him locked in here, but that wouldn’t change my situation much.
We could go to the police, of course, but I doubted we would get much help. Angry husbands often made threats against their wives and children, especially when the daughter had brought shame on their name. The police would probably advise me to go home and tell my father I was sorry. Harold Robinson might not be liked but he was respected in the town. And he hadn’t beaten me: he was far too clever for that. He knew there were ways of making us suffer without the kind of brutality that would give us cause to seek protection from the police.
I started up as the door was unlocked and he came in. My mother followed, bringing a tray of tea and some toast.
‘Are you all right, Emma?’ she asked, looking at me anxiously.
‘Yes, Mum. Don’t worry.’
She put the tray down and departed, giving me a look that spoke volumes over her shoulder. Any courage she might have had the previous evening had gone and she was obviously nervous.
‘Well,’ Father said, entering the room. ‘Have you thought it over?’
‘Yes.’ I raised my head as his eyes seemed to bore into me. ‘You are my father whatever you say. Mum wouldn’t lie.’
‘I’ve accepted it for the look of things,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll not start to deny you publicly now – unless you defy me.’
‘You’ve made it impossible for me to do that, haven’t you?’
‘So you’re going to be sensible.’ He nodded, eyes glittering with satisfaction. ‘I thought you might. Behave properly and nothing need change, Emma. We’ll go on as before.’
‘What about the child? I shan’t be able to keep it a secret for long. Aren’t you afraid of what people will say?’
‘I’ve been thinking about that.’ He gave me a hard look. ‘I’ll arrange things.’
‘You can’t cover this up. Why don’t you let me go away? No one need know the truth.’
‘I’ve told you. I’ll not be made a fool of in this town. Do you think the gossips wouldn’t get hold of the tale?’
‘But—’
‘Eat your breakfast and come down to the shop. You’ll do as you’re told, or you know what will happen. Every defiant look, every sullen word, believe me … your mother will pay for it.’
‘You don’t have to tell me again.’
He nodded, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. ‘As long as we understand each other.’
He turned and went out of the room. As soon as he had gone, my mother rushed back in. I looked at the dark bruises on her arm and felt sick with fear.
‘Mum!’ I cried. ‘He hurt you.’
She touched her arm. ‘He has done it before, but not where it shows, and not often. He was too angry to think last night. We should leave now, while he’s in the shop, Emma. Go to the police.’
‘You know that wouldn’t stop him,’ I said. ‘We can’t go. He would come after us.’
‘He has hated me ever since he discovered I wasn’t a virgin on our wedding night.’ She blinked away her tears. ‘There was someone else before him and he has never forgiven me for it.’
‘Am I his daughter, Mum? Please tell me the truth.’
‘Yes, Emma. God forgive me, I wish you weren’t!’
‘Oh, Mum.’ I moved towards her and we hugged. ‘I’m so sorry. So sorry for bringing all this on you.’
‘It’s not your fault. If that unnatural man had given you more freedom you might have known a bit more – been aware of what men are. I blame myself. I encouraged Paul here.’
‘No, Mum. I knew it was wrong. I just didn’t think … until it was too late. It was nice kissing and … but it went too far.’
‘You’re not the first to get caught like that.’ She sighed and gave me a little push away from her. ‘Don’t think I don’t understand, because I do. None better. Something similar happened to me, except that in my case it was my own fault. I sent him off because I thought he would never amount to anything. I wanted more than a railwayman’s cottage. I was a fool and I’ve regretted it – but there was nothing I could do once I realized what a mistake I’d made.’
‘Oh, Mum! I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s too long ago to cry over. You had better get ready and go down to the shop, love. Until we can sort something out.’
‘Yes, I know. It’s all right, don’t worry. I’m not afraid of him anymore.’
She nodded. I knew she had accepted the situation, at least for the time being. Neither of us wanted to stay here, but what else could we do?
Perhaps Jonathan Reece could help? He worked for a firm of lawyers, didn’t he? I wasn’t sure if anyone could help me, but I might ask Paul’s cousin when he came at the weekend – if I got the chance.
That Saturday, I waited with some misgivings for Jonathan to come into the shop. It was going to be difficult if Father was there when he arrived. I should probably be sent upstairs and forbidden to speak to him – and he would take it out on my mother later if I disobeyed. I felt slightly relieved when evening came and Jonathan hadn’t been in.
He had promised he wouldn’t let me down, but perhaps he hadn’t been able to get in touch with Paul. Somehow I was still sure that Jonathan would come when he could – besides, it didn’t matter. I didn’t really need money now, though I had decided to take what was offered. Why shouldn’t I? My child might need it one day, even if I didn’t.
I was having supper when Father came upstairs after closing the shop. It was earlier than usual and I was surprised when he announced his intention of going out.
‘I’m off now,’ he said, giving us a hard stare. ‘I may be late back – so don’t bother waiting up for me.’
‘Where are you going?’ Mother asked.
‘Mind your own business. I’ll tell you both what you need to know when I’m ready.’
‘I hate you, Harold Robinson.’
‘Aye, I know it. The feeling is mutual.’
He turned round and walked out, leaving silence behind him.
‘What is he up to?’ my mother asked. ‘He’s up to something, I know he is – something neither of us is going to like.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Mum,’ I said. ‘If we had enough money we could go where he wouldn’t be able to find us – maybe to America or somewhere far away.’
‘I wish I knew what he does with his money!’
‘It’s in a bank somewhere, I expect.’
‘Harold Robinson put his money in a bank?’ She snorted with disbelief. ‘He doesn’t trust them. No, it will be in
property or the like. If I could just get my hands on some of it, I’d show him.’
‘How much would it cost for a passage to Australia for us both?’
‘Far more than either of us are ever likely to have – we would need money to live on as well, remember. Forget it, Emma. As long as he doesn’t hit you I can put up with him – for the time being.’
I nodded reluctantly. She seemed to have accepted the situation. It was all we could do for the moment – but perhaps one day it might be different. If I could somehow get enough money together …
I went to church with my mother the next morning. Father had insisted that we go, because people might think it strange if we didn’t. He had seemed in a good mood at breakfast, smiling and nodding to himself as if he knew something that pleased him.
‘He’s definitely got something up his sleeve,’ Mother said as we walked to church. ‘Did you see the way he was grinning to himself? What has he done, that’s what I’d like to know.’
‘Was he very late in last night?’
‘It was past eleven when I heard him come in. He didn’t come upstairs for an hour or more. I pretended to be asleep but I could smell the whisky on his breath.’
‘I didn’t think he drank whisky!’ I stared at her. ‘Was he drunk?’
‘Not so as you’d notice. He’d had a few, but he never drinks too much. He might lose control – and Harold likes to be in control.’
‘I wonder why he closed the shop early? It couldn’t have been because he wanted to go to the pub. There would have been plenty of time for that later.’
‘I’ve got a nasty feeling about that,’ she said and frowned. ‘It was something that amused him, I know that.’
I nodded but we had reached the church. We went in and took our usual places. I had half-hoped Paul would be there, but of course that was impossible: he was far away and even if he had wanted he couldn’t have returned so quickly.
Kneeling down, I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer, though without much hope of it being answered. Then, sensing someone beside me, I glanced to my left and saw it was Richard Gillows. He smiled as I sat back on the pew and picked up my prayer book.
