A Mother's Choice

by Val Wood

  ‘Perhaps,’ Delia said evasively. ‘The theatre will be closed on Christmas Day … but Jenny, don’t tell your family about me, will you?’ She saw the look of disappointment on her friend’s face. ‘Please! I don’t want my parents to know where I am. They haven’t cared about me for so many years, and they would probably think that theatre work is only suitable for a woman of the lowest kind.’

  ‘They might have regrets?’ Jenny suggested, reaching for her coat.

  Delia stood and picked up hers too. ‘They won’t. When I said I was leaving, my mother said don’t come back, and my father told me to get out. I was seventeen.’ A sob caught in her throat, but she went on, ‘Those are the last memories I have of them; why would I think they have changed their minds?’

  Jenny leaned forward and kissed her cheek. ‘I won’t tell,’ she said softly. ‘But I’m very glad that you’ve come back. I’ll come to see you again, or I’ll write to you care of the theatre, but please let’s try and spend Christmas Day together. I’ve missed you; it’s been such a long time.’

  A cab had been ordered to take Jenny to her rooms in Pearson Park on Princes Avenue. Delia didn’t know the district and Jenny exclaimed, ‘Oh, you must come and see it. The park is delightful and the housing is new. The owner of the villa I’m in went abroad on business and has never lived in it. He lets off several rooms, only to women, mainly teachers like me or retired elderly spinsters, and we have the use of the kitchen and bathroom. It’s almost like being in the country.’

  She insisted that Delia should come in the cab and be dropped off at her lodgings off Church Street, and as Delia waved goodbye she worried that she had said too much. In a weak moment, would Jenny mention seeing her to her mother?

  Would Mrs Robinson remember my last visit to their house that day? Will she recall how she sat me down with a cup of tea when I became dizzy and almost fainted? I don’t know whether she realized that it was what she had just told me that made me feel sick and wretched and totally despairing; that Jack and Susan Barnett had gone to see the vicar about reading the banns for their marriage. I felt that my life was over before it had begun, and I wanted to walk down to the Humber bank and keep on walking into those deep dark waters.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Peggy and Aaron had discussed what to do on her return from Hedon, whilst Molly was showing Robin around outside. Aaron was uneasy about keeping the lad. ‘It’s not that I don’t want him here, you understand,’ he said. ‘I’m bothered that we might get into trouble.’

  ‘I’ve been to ’Sun Inn,’ Peggy said defensively, ‘and that’ll be ’first place anybody would go to enquire. I went to ’police station too and told a clerk but he said I’d have to go back when there was an officer on duty, and then I went to ’Town Hall, but there was nobody about to ask.’

  Aaron shook his head. ‘It’s not enough.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know what else to do,’ she began, but stopped when Robin and Molly came into the kitchen.

  ‘I’ve been thinking.’ Robin stood in front of them. ‘If you’re willing to let me stay with you for a short time, I’d like to do some work on the farm to pay for my keep. I don’t know anything about ploughing and haymaking and things, but maybe I could feed the pigs or the poultry? The hens seem quite easy, though they are a bit silly and run about squawking when you’re near them, and maybe I could progress to the pigs when they’ve had their babies. Molly said they’re having some.’

  He looked enquiringly at them and wondered why they were both puckering up their mouths and Aaron was covering his with his hand. ‘I wouldn’t expect any wages, of course, and I’ll try not to eat too much, but I was also going to ask you if I might go to school whilst I’m here? Louisa told me that she went to the school in Thorn-gum-bald, but it’s such a funny name that I thought she might be joking.’

  Aaron began to laugh and took out a handkerchief to wipe tears from his eyes. ‘She wasn’t joking,’ he chuckled when he could speak. ‘That’s ’name of ’village. My granfer told me that there was once a country gentleman living in these parts named Thorne and in ’same area were two gentlewomen called Gumbaud and the three of ’em owned most of ’land and estates round here, and over ’years ’village began to be known as Thorngumbald. Do you get my meaning? It’s a corruption of their names.’

  ‘I see,’ Robin said thoughtfully. ‘That’s very interesting. Do you think that’s how most towns and villages get their names, because of the people who once owned the land?’

  Aaron viewed the boy with interest. ‘Well, aye, I reckon that’s right in ’main, though not allus. I think mebbe sometimes a name might come from summat else—’

  ‘Like French or Latin or something, do you mean?’ Robin continued his questioning and Aaron seemed flummoxed.

  ‘Tell you what,’ Peggy interrupted. ‘Our daughter Jenny will be coming to see us soon; we’re hoping she’ll come for Christmas too, but we’re not banking on it, and we can ask her if you’re still here with us. She’s a schoolteacher in Hull and very clever. She’ll know, I expect.’

  ‘Oh, good.’ Robin gave a grin. ‘And will she be able to say if I can go to school in Thorn-gum-bald?’

  ‘No,’ Peggy said firmly. ‘That’s something that me and Aaron would have to discuss wi’ school and ask if they’ll tek you, that’s supposing you’re still here and your ma hasn’t come back for you.’

  She looked determinedly at Aaron, challenging him to dispute the matter as Robin said a polite thank you.

  Later, after their midday meal, Jack left the table muttering that he’d better get back to the field work; Aaron said he’d join him shortly and Susan slipped upstairs for a lie down, much to Peggy’s obvious annoyance. Robin brought up the subject of pigs again as he hadn’t received an answer to his question.

  ‘Come on then,’ Aaron said. ‘Let’s go and tek a look, and then I must get off to give Jack a hand.’ He found Robin a pair of rubber boots which were rather tight and squeezed his toes, and Robin thought perhaps they belonged to Louisa. Then Peggy gave him a pair of hers, which were too large but more comfortable, and she mumbled something about getting him some of his own if he was going to stay with them.

  Left alone, she washed the dinner things and prepared supper, scrubbing potatoes, peeling shrimps and skinning and filleting two large whiting to make a fish pie. When she had finished, she glanced at the clock. Robin and Molly were still outside, and making an instant decision she washed her hands, took off her apron and wrote a short note asking someone to put the pie in the oven at four o’clock as she was going to pick the girls up from school. Then, leaving the note and the pie prominently on the table, she slipped on her winter coat, hat and outdoor shoes and left the house, making for the stable block.

  She pulled the trap into the yard and brought Betsy out from her stall, murmuring, ‘Come on, old girl, let’s you and me have a little jaunt on our own afore anybody misses us.’

  The old horse snickered at her as she put her into harness and they pulled out of the yard just as it started to rain.

  Good, she thought. I wasn’t fibbing after all when I wrote that I’d fetch the girls cos it looked like rain. She drove out of the farm gate and up the track towards Thorngumbald, chuckling as she remembered Robin’s pronunciation of the name.

  She heard the bell ringing out the end of the school day as she pulled up at the gate. The rain was coming down fast and she reached down to pick up two black umbrellas. Then she saw the three girls coming out, with Louisa hurrying them along and turning up Rosie’s coat collar.

  ‘Louisa,’ she called. ‘Louisa!’

  All the girls looked up and the two younger ones squealed when they saw her. ‘Oh, Granny, hurray,’ Rosie said. ‘We thought we’d get soaked.’

  ‘Well, you still might,’ Peggy said, ‘because I have to slip into school and have a quick word wi’ schoolmistress.’

  ‘I’ll wait with Betsy,’ Louisa offered. ‘Emma and Rosie can wait inside until you’re f
inished, Gran.’

  Peggy gave one umbrella to Louisa, who stood next to the horse and shared it with her, and hurried back to the school with Rosie and Emma crouched under the other.

  ‘Wait here,’ she said as they entered the hall, ‘and don’t go off anywhere else,’ and she scurried off to catch the schoolmistress.

  ‘I won’t keep you,’ she began, when the woman looked up with a frown that said quite clearly that she didn’t welcome the interruption. ‘I realize you’ll have had a busy day and will want to get off home, but I need your advice.’ She quickly went on to explain that they had a relative’s child staying with them, and wondered whether he would be allowed to come to school with the other children.

  ‘It’s a bit awkward,’ Peggy continued quietly. ‘The boy’s mother is a widow, my husband’s late aunt’s husband’s niece.’ She saw the teacher’s jaw go slack as she tried to assimilate the relationship. ‘They’ve moved around quite a lot so he hasn’t had much schooling, but now his mother has taken a situation in the London area – a very respectable position, you understand,’ she added quickly, ‘but the hours are long and she’s worried about leaving the boy alone and mebbe mixing with undesirables and getting into trouble, as boys so easily can without an occupation.’

  She paused for breath. ‘She’s hoping to come back to this area once she’s found a suitable position, and I offered – well, we have to, haven’t we? – to have the boy to live with us until then.’

  ‘Well, the boy should go to school,’ the teacher affirmed. ‘Strictly speaking his mother is not breaking the law if he doesn’t, but by next year there’ll be new rules regarding this, although we don’t yet know the details. At the moment children in country districts can take time off for haymaking or potato harvesting – of which I do not approve, though Headmaster is more lenient – but it isn’t allowed in the towns. Children should be at school, not working.’

  ‘No indeed,’ Peggy agreed. ‘Our daughter is a schoolteacher and she’s in complete agreement with you there.’ Which was a downright lie, she thought, because Jenny was a countrywoman, unlike this one, and knew how the children were needed, not only by the farmers but to earn money for their hard-pressed families where every penny counted. ‘So, it will be all right for him to come? He’s a grand little boy,’ she finished. ‘Very bright and intelligent.’

  The teacher pursed her lips and Peggy thought that if she made a habit of it she would have deep lines around her mouth before she was forty.

  ‘Is there insufficient money in the family to send him away to school?’ The teacher seemed to be trying to find another solution before agreeing, but Peggy clasped her hands together and shook her head.

  ‘Nothing!’ she whispered. ‘All lost. The young woman is practically destitute, which is why she has to work wherever she can.’

  The schoolmistress was silent for a moment, and then said, ‘Very well. If there is no alternative solution and no one else to care for him, he can start next Monday. If he’s still with you by Christmas I’ll discuss it with Headmaster and we’ll review the situation after the holiday.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Peggy said. ‘I’m much obliged.’

  ‘That’s quite all right,’ the mistress replied in a softer tone. ‘We must do what we can; I believe that all children deserve an education. What’s the boy’s name? I’ll make a note in the school register.’

  ‘Robin,’ Peggy said. ‘Robin Jackson,’ and wondered why the name had such a familiar ring.

  They arrived home, wet and bedraggled, and the children piled into the house to be greeted by Molly and Robin. Peggy rubbed the old horse down with a clean piece of sacking before putting her into her stall and making sure she had plenty of hay; then, straightening her back, thought, what? What was it that the teacher said? She couldn’t quite catch the memory. Something about …? She shook her head and closed the stable door behind her. She couldn’t recall. It had gone, but it might come back.

  She went indoors to find the fish pie still on the table and no sign of Susan. Muttering to herself, she put the pie in the oven and began to chop up a cabbage and scrape carrots; when she had done that, she quickly mixed up a crumble with raisins and cinnamon and popped it on the oven floor.

  She opened her mouth to ask Louisa to set the table and then changed her mind. The child was so willing that it was easier to ask her than Emma, who always made a fuss, but no, the younger girl must learn to take her turn.

  ‘Emma, m’darling,’ she said. ‘Set ’table, please, and don’t forget we’re nine now.’

  ‘Nine?’ Emma got up without protest to do her bidding. ‘No, I’m onny seven, Gran. Have you forgotten?’

  Peggy patted the top of her head. ‘No, honey lamb, I meant nine of us sitting down to eat. We’ve got Robin with us now, haven’t we?’

  Emma nodded and went to fetch a tablecloth from the dresser drawer. Laughing, she said, ‘Ma says never mind a robin, he’s a cuckoo in the nest! What does she mean, Gran?’

  Peggy clenched her teeth. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she muttered, but of course she had; and wondered how Susan could consider a small boy as a threat to her own daughters. ‘Your ma has some odd notions, hasn’t she?’ she couldn’t help but add.

  ‘She has,’ the child unexpectedly agreed as she carefully smoothed the tablecloth that hung lower down on one side than the other. ‘Cuckoo would be a very funny name for a boy, wouldn’t it?’

  As Peggy dished up supper, serving the children first and noticing Rosie pushing the cabbage to the side of her plate, the remark that the schoolmistress had made still niggled at her. She brought a white onion sauce from the range and told the adults to help themselves. Susan, who had come down too late to help, took hers first as always but didn’t offer to serve Jack or Aaron.

  Peggy sat down with a sigh and glanced at the children, who were tucking in. Even Molly was eating heartily, in spite of having had a good dinner at midday. Smiling, Peggy took up the serving spoon and put portions of fish pie, cabbage and carrots on her own plate.

  Whatever it was the schoolmistress had said, she’d forgotten, and it annoyed her. It had been important, she was sure. She put her fork to her mouth and saw that all the girls had cleaned up their plates, except Rosie who had left her cabbage, but she’d excuse her this time, she thought. They’ve all got good appetites; everyone’s allowed to dislike some things. She lifted another forkful to her mouth and then she remembered.

  All children deserve an education. That’s what ’mistress had said, and she said it sincerely, as if she really meant it. Peggy had not yet told Robin about being given permission to go to school, nor Aaron either, but she had something else on her mind. Molly, dear little Molly, who, they had been told, would never amount to much, would never go to school and learn to read or write, and yet was as bright as a button and knew the names of flowers, how puppies and kittens were born and how long it took for pigs to farrow.

  Her meal forgotten, she looked across at Molly now. The eight-year-old wanted to go to school and be with other children and couldn’t understand why she wasn’t allowed. I’ll have words with ’schoolmistress, Peggy thought. I’ll ask her about Molly. We don’t want a special school, or at least I don’t; I don’t think her mother has an opinion on the subject. She rejected her right from the start, but Molly needs to be with her family and friends, people she’s comfortable with, not shoved off to someplace where she knows nobody.

  So that’s my next mission, and in ’meantime … ‘Robin,’ she said, and he looked across at her. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Robin’s face was a picture of delight when he heard the news, as was Louisa’s. Emma and Rosie merely looked at each other and shrugged, but Molly’s bottom lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘What in heaven’s name are you playing at, Ma?’ Jack pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘He doesn’t live here!’

  Susan rolled her eyes and scoffed. Aaron didn’t say a
nything, but he gave Peggy a slight shake of his head and pressed his lips together.

  ‘Schoolmistress says he can until his mother turns up,’ was how Peggy justified her decision, although she didn’t admit to embroidering the tale she had given the teacher. ‘And,’ she added, ‘he might as well be at school as be here wi’ me.’

  Molly began to bang the table with her fists. ‘But he’s my friend,’ she howled. ‘It’s not fair. I should go to school. Why can’t I?’

  Susan was about to answer but Peggy lifted her finger in warning. ‘Don’t you dare say owt detrimental about that child in my hearing,’ she snapped.

  ‘I wasn’t going to,’ Susan spat out. ‘But I think you sometimes forget whose child she is.’

  The target hit home, but then Peggy answered in a tight voice, ‘And I thought you’d forgotten, as you’ve so little to do with her. I suppose,’ she added cynically, ‘that when you and Jack and all your bairns move into your own place after you’ve had this babby, you’ll find her very handy for all sorts of menial jobs that you’ll be too tired to manage.’

  ‘Now then, now then,’ Aaron said loudly. ‘That’s enough, all of you.’ He too pushed his chair back and stood up, but in his case it was to go to Molly, who was now sobbing with her head on the table. Louisa was patting her back and Robin was looking on in dismay. ‘Come here, my lovely. Come to your grandda.’

  He stooped down and picked her up as if she were a two-year-old and cradled her in his arms. She made no resistance, but snuffled into his neck, wetting his shirt.

  ‘I’m off out to ’beasts,’ Jack muttered. ‘Somebody has to earn a living.’

  ‘Aye, well, I’ll be there in a bit. It’s too dark to do ower much anyway,’ his father said.

  Jack slammed the door behind him.

  Susan got up too, and with an exaggerated sigh pressed a hand to her back and began to slowly clear the dishes from the table.