by Annie Murray
Jess sobbed even harder. Ned’s words about what he did or didn’t do at home, habits, that married routine, made her feel even more wretched. Mary had so much of him, and what did she have?
She nestled into his arms, as he held her tightly, his coat rough against her wet face. She drank in the sensation of being held in his arms.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Look – let’s get out of ’ere. It feels as if everyone’s watching. No one’ll take any notice outside.’
Once out in the street, along the side of the Grand Hotel, they dared to hold hands in the dusk. A horse and carriage clattered past them on Livery Street, hooves sparking on the cobbles. Jess could smell smoke from the trains. Opposite the end of the station they crossed into Bread Street.
‘No one’ll bother us ’ere,’ Ned said.
He turned, holding her again.
‘Tell me you love me,’ she said. ‘Everything’ll be all right just so long as I know you feel like I do.’
‘Jess . . . Jess—’ Ned gave a deep sigh, eyes fixed on hers in the gloom. ‘I wish I’d met you months before I did. As soon as I saw you it was summat else. Summat much – I don’t know ’ow to say – bigger than what I feel for Mary. Beyond everything. It’s made me feel, and do things I never thought I’d do in a thousand years. You’re ’ere in my head and I can’t get you out. I’ve tried.’
Jess was laughing and crying at once. She stood on tip-toe and they kissed. She felt the urgent force of his lips. When he released her she had to remind herself to breathe.
‘What are we going to do?’
He leaned towards her again, not wanting to talk, only to fill himself with the sensation of her. He kissed her until he was drunk with it, his strong hands pressing her close, longing to touch every part of her lovely, curving body, knowing bitterly how wrong it would be, that it was forbidden him.
They stood for a moment, foreheads pressed together, both breathing fast. Then as if knowing a limit had been reached, they moved apart and walked on.
‘I can’t just leave ’er. Not with the babby. I owe ’er, Jess. And how would yer feel about me if you knew I’d just walk out on a woman and my own child?’
I don’t know! she wanted to say. I just want you to be mine. To come with me and start again. But she knew he was right.
‘So why’re you here, Ned?’
‘Because I can’t keep away from yer.’ He stopped again, taking her by the shoulders. ‘She’s the mother of my child, and you’re the woman I love. I feel knocked to one side. As if I can’t recognize myself. When I think of you it’s as if nothing else matters. But I know it’s wrong, like – to both of yer. We’ll have to stop this, to keep apart. I can’t expect to ’ave it both ways.’
For a moment neither of them spoke. A train came rumbling out of the station, making the ground shudder, smoke woomp-woomping out in hard-working bursts. The sound of it built, then died away.
‘Yes, you can.’ Her voice came out very strong, determined. ‘If we can’t do what’s right to be together, we’ll just have to live in the wrong. If it is wrong. I don’t seem to know what’s right and wrong any more.’
‘God, Jess – what’re yer saying to me?’
‘Where did you say to Mary that you was going tonight?’
‘Down the pub.’
‘So you told ’er a fib. And I said to Auntie and the others I was going to Evie’s – she’s a girl at work. That makes both of us liars. But if I have to lie to see you, I will. Even though I know it’s wrong . . .’
She felt his hand in the hair at the back of her neck, stroking her, saw him smile at her. ‘How can this be wrong . . . Feeling like this?’ But then he loosed her and turned away, towards the wall. ‘How can we? We can’t go on telling fibs, sneaking about, pretending to people . . .’
Jess put her hand out and touched his back, felt the tense hardness of it.
‘So you’ll not see me again? Is that it?’
He turned slowly, looking at her, helpless. Both of them tried to imagine going on now, without the other.
‘No – that’s not it. Come ’ere.’
His arms wrapped so tight around her he almost knocked the breath out of her. ‘You’re my woman. Deep down that’s the truth of it, no matter what else. I can’t change that even if I wanted to.’
‘Do yer?’
‘No, I don’t. If doing the right thing means doing without you, Jess, I’m damned, that I am.’
‘And me,’ she nuzzled his neck. ‘We’ll both be damned together.’
Later, he walked her into town and they parted in New Street. On the corner of Corporation Street they stood in each other’s arms for a long time.
‘I can’t let you go back to ’er,’ Jess said. ‘I can’t stand it.’
‘I’ve got to go – she’ll wonder what’s ’appened to me.’
After a last, long kiss, they parted. She began walking slowly along New Street, in a daze, still with the feel of his arms round her. Her lover, her man. And she his . . . his . . . She stopped abruptly.
‘Oh!’ she said, out loud. His mistress! That’s what she was, however you dressed it up. It sounded bad that did. Terrible. But that was what she was. What she wanted. Because above everything else, she wanted Ned, whatever it involved, because nothing else mattered. She had never felt so loved or needed before, so safe and sure. She stood by the kerb, taking in deep breaths. What in heaven’s name would Polly say if she knew?
‘’Ere – clear off out. Go on – shove it.’
Jess looked round, bewildered to hear a woman’s voice, husky and low, directed menacingly close to her.
She was a tiny person, in a wide-brimmed hat with a strip of gold stuff tied round it making a huge bow. In the gloom, Jess could just make out a beauty spot on her cheek, and she smelt pungently of perfume.
‘What?’
‘I said clear out. Bugger off. This is my patch – yer can eff off and find yer own. Shouldn’t try anything down this stretch if I was you – it’s all spoke for.’
‘What d’yer mean?’ Jess protested. ‘I was only . . .’
The woman laughed nastily. ‘Just get ’ome – go on – get out of my sight before I decide to forget me manners.’
Jess raced the last mile home as fast as she could in the dark, unnerved by this strange woman. What the hell’d she been going on about? She slowed a little as she came closer to the house, panting hard. The ecstatic happiness she’d felt when she was with Ned seeped away and her mood became more sober. His loving her, knowing he felt as she did was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened. But the chill reality which had begun to impinge on her before she met the strange woman flooded through her again. Ned was going to stay with Mary, with his child. So when would there ever be a time, a place for her? When could the two of them ever belong together? By the time she got home she felt near to tears. But outside the house she met John, the eldest of the Bullivant sons from next door, a strong, handsome-looking man.
‘Evening – awright, are yer?’ he called out. Jess managed a reasonably cheerful reply and it helped her compose herself a bit by the time she walked into the house.
‘Nice evening, was it?’ Polly called to her.
Jess knew her face was flushed. She was too restless, too emotional. Would her guilt show in her face? She unbuttoned her coat and hung it in the hall with her hat, then forced a grin on to her face.
‘It was awright,’ she said, going through to the back. ‘We had a bit of a laugh and they got some ale in from the Outdoor. Evie’s mom’s nice, and ’er brothers.’
Everyone was all ears.
‘So – what’s ’e like?’ Sis was tilting her chair next to the table. Olive glowered at her and she lowered all four legs to the floor.
Jess frowned. ‘Who?’
‘’Er brother of course – the one you thought she might set you up with!’
‘Oh – well . . .’ Jess made a face calculated to keep them all guessing. ‘Not bad – not bad a
t all . . .’
‘Better looking than me?’ Bert asked.
‘Miles better. Anyroad, it were a good evening. Only, on the way back I met this queer woman.’
She told them what had happened in New Street.
‘She was ever so sharp with me,’ she finished indignantly. ‘And I was only getting my breath back! What’s so funny, eh? Yer look like a barrowload of Cheshire cats.’
Olive’s lips twitched and Polly and Bert were grinning from ear to ear.
‘I told yer, didn’ I – not to hang about in town of a night!’ Olive chuckled, pressing a hand to her chest. ‘That’ll teach yer!’
‘Well, who was she?’
‘Yer lucky she daint scratch yer face off of yer,’ Polly laughed. ‘Ain’t you ever heard of Ladies of the Night?’
The penny began to drop. Jess pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. ‘Oh my . . . she was a . . .?’
Olive nodded, looking meaningfully at Sis.
‘A what?’ Sis said. ‘Oh go on – a what? Why won’t yer tell me?’
‘What yer don’t know won’t hurt yer. And yer should be getting to bed this time of night. Go on – up yer go.’
Sis groaned and moaned her way to the stairs, but knew she could ask Polly later.
Jess looked round at them all. They hadn’t guessed. And next week she could go again, pretend she was interested in Evie’s brother. At least she could see him. Feel his love. That was all that mattered. She smiled.
‘Anyone want a last cuppa tea?’
Thirteen
She met Ned the next week, but the third Tuesday he didn’t turn up and Jess went home miserable. He managed to find her the next day, outside Blake’s when she came off work.
‘Sorry about last night.’ He sounded very fed up. ‘It’s our Ruth – ’er’s been bad with a fever. Up and down all night. I couldn’t just leave Mary to cope all evening as well.’
‘What a good father.’ She’d felt horribly jealous and tense all day. But soon, out of relief at seeing him, she relented and smiled. She knew he was trying to do right by both of them. ‘It’s awright. Is she any better?’
‘Not much. Look, I’m going to ’ave to go – I just wanted to see yer in case you was thinking – well, you know.’
Before he went he kissed her quickly on the cheek, looking round anxiously in case anyone he knew was about.
‘Eh – who was that then? He’s a looker!’ Evie followed Jess’s gaze as she watched Ned disappear.
Still straining to see him along the crowded street, Jess said, ‘Evie – I need a favour off of yer.’
‘What’s that then?’
‘Look – come with me. I’ll treat yer to a cuppa and tell yer.’
They went to a coffee house nearby which reminded Jess of Mather’s, only it wasn’t nearly as well kept. The sawdust looked as if it hadn’t been swept up for days.
‘Bit of an ’ole this,’ she said, looking round.
When their tea arrived the glass felt grimy, a silt of sugar still stuck to the outside, but Jess was too preoccupied to complain.
‘I’ve got to come clean with yer, Evie. I’ve been using you as an excuse to get out of an evening.’
Evie leaned closer, all agog. ‘What – you seeing that good-looking fella?’
‘That’s it. I told my auntie I come over to see you and yer mom and brothers, Tuesd’y nights . . .’
Evie laughed. ‘Jess, I ain’t got no brothers! There’s just me and Edith and Sal.’
‘I know – any’ow, might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. But they’ve sort of got the idea I’m keen on this brother o’ yours. I’m just telling yer, ’cause I feel bad using yer like that and you not knowing.’
‘Well I s’pose that’s awright,’ Evie didn’t sound too sure.
‘I won’t get yer into any trouble.’
‘I’m glad you told me any’ow, Jess. What about this feller of yours then . . . ain’t they too keen on ’im?’
Jess didn’t feel she could tell Evie quite all the truth. After all, she had to protect Ned as well. She looked down at the greyish tea in her glass. ‘No. They ain’t. My auntie’s very strict – looks out for me like. But they’ve got ’im all wrong.’
Evie was full of curiosity. ‘D’yer love ’im then?’
‘Like mad. But I don’t see ’ow we can ever be together. Not properly.’
‘’Cause of yer family?’
Jess nodded solemnly, appalled at the way she could lie so easily.
Evie reached across and touched her hand. ‘If yer really love each other, you’ll find a way. They can’t stop yer forever, can they? You could go to Gretna Green. Ooh, it’s just like in a story!’
‘’Cept in stories you know there’ll be a happy ending,’ Jess said tragically.
‘Eh – cheer up. Tell yer what. As you’re telling them yer coming over to see us, why don’t you come for a visit. Our mom’d be ever so pleased to meet yer!’
‘Awright,’ Jess smiled. ‘I’d like to. Just not on a Tuesd’y night, that’s all!’
When Ned met her the next week he looked tired. They walked south, away from the Jewellery Quarter, through St Paul’s churchyard. It felt safer, more anonymous to head for the middle of town.
‘You awright?’ she asked anxiously. ‘You look all in. Been out on a blaze?’
‘No – I just ain’t getting much sleep. One minute Ruth’s up wanting feeding and then I’m – well, I don’t get to sleep easy. Listen, I’ve been thinking – whether there’s a way we could spend longer together. Away somewhere. It’s hopeless here – there’s no privacy anywhere.’
Jess’s eyes widened in hope. ‘What – yer mean . . .?’
‘I’ve been thinking how I could get a day out.’
‘A whole day! Oh, that’d be – Oh Ned!’ Her face fell. ‘But how? I mean we’re either at work, or there’s no reason we can give for going out. Oh, but I’d do anything to spend a bit more time with yer, yer know that!’
‘Could yer get away on Sunday?’
She didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes. I’ll just go and answer questions later.’
‘Mary’s mom’s often round ours of a Sunday. Can’t get away from the woman. But if I say there’s a reason I ’ave to be at the Fire Station, or summat like that . . . Giving it a special going over . . . I’ll sort summat out. Oh God, more lies, Jess . . .’
‘Where shall we go?’ Jess asked. She was all but jumping up and down in his arms. ‘Oh I can’t believe it – just you and me!’
‘Let’s go as far away as we can get. On a train – eh?’
‘Oh, I know!’ Her face lit with excitement. ‘I know exactly where we can go!’
It was a perfect, still, July dawn.
This can’t be wrong, doing this, Jess thought as she crept out of bed, cringing as the bed creaked. Otherwise God would’ve made it rain and be miserable.
She dressed silently in the prettiest of her two summer frocks, white with blue checks. Over the top she wore a cardigan the colour of mulberries, and her old summer shoes with a strap and a button. All the time she watched Polly and Sis, on tenterhooks, but both of them stayed fast asleep. Jess felt even the sound of her heart thumping might wake them, she was so highly charged. She’d barely slept all night. She could hear muted snores coming from Bert’s room.
She was too impatient and nervous to brew tea. Taking a slice of bread with a scraping of butter she let herself out, eating it as she hurried along the Moseley Road. It was too early, but she could not have kept still in the house any longer. A clanging sound came from the goods yard behind, but otherwise the road was quiet. The sky was clear, but hazy, and although it was still cool, it was obviously set to be a beautiful summer’s day.
She tried to slow her pace and look around her. The Bull Ring was shut up and almost deserted as she walked through, and she was soon in New Street station waiting for Ned.
The station was anything but deserted. Over to one side of the area near the ticket o
ffice, a group was gathering. Jess stood, half her attention on them, the other on watching the entrance with impatient excitement. A few more joined the group. They were all women, most smartly dressed in calf length skirts, jackets and elegant hats. She saw that one of them was holding a placard with the initials ‘WSPU’ on it. Another was handing out sashes which they were all shouldering on over their clothes. Jess squinted to read them. ‘. . . s for Women’ was all she could make out. She turned away as one of them glanced at her, and saw Ned coming. He kissed her briefly and took her arm, steering her to the ticket office.
‘Come on – let’s get right away from ’ere.’ Excited, she clutched his arm.
The train ride was bliss. Away from the danger of meeting anyone they knew, they settled down together, Jess by the window, Ned’s arm close round her. She laid her straw hat in her lap and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, smelling the smoky upholstery. They had the carriage to themselves. The train rumbled out through Adderley Park, then Stech-ford. Jess let out a great sigh of contentment.
‘The air feels clearer already.’ She twisted her head, smiling up at him.
‘Not in ’ere it don’t.’ He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. ‘My country wench.’
‘I miss it. I want to take you and show you.’
‘You going to call on yer dad?’
She was silent for a moment, fear and uncertainty mixed with her excitement. ‘I don’t know. In a way I want to. But ’e’s never writ me even so much as a word. I could be dead for all ’e knows. Or cares.’
‘Maybe yer should. Yer might run into someone else who’ll let on they’ve seen yer. And it might make yer feel better.’
‘Yes, and it might not,’ she retorted. ‘I’ll see ’ow I am when I get there. I just want to see the place – the fields and everything. That’s what I’ve missed. And how’m I going to explain you away, sunshine?’
