A Mother's Choice

by Val Wood

  Not a bad day’s doings, one way or another, Peggy thought as they trundled into the yard, and for some reason which she admitted to herself she couldn’t put into words, she had a very pleasurable sense of warmth and satisfaction coursing through her veins.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘I’m going home at the weekend,’ Jenny told Delia. She hadn’t been to see the show, but had come to the stage door when she knew it would be finished to invite Delia out to supper to meet some of her friends who had gathered at the Maritime Hotel. They had had an enjoyable evening, but the others had gone now and the two of them were having a quiet chat.

  Delia hesitated. ‘Ah! That’s nice,’ she said, rather feebly, and Jenny gazed at her in puzzlement.

  ‘I won’t tell them I’ve met you again, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ she told her. ‘I’ve already said I won’t. Though I don’t know why you’d be scared of them or your parents knowing, for heaven’s sake. You’re a grown woman. You can do whatever you like; you’re like me, you’ve no ties. We’re practically, but not quite, emancipated.’

  ‘That’ll be a long time coming.’ Delia gave an ironic laugh to cover her nervousness. ‘But you’re right; one day women will be able to choose what they do with their own lives.’

  ‘We’ll have to remain single until then,’ Jenny said. ‘As soon as a woman marries she’s merely an appendage to her husband.’

  Delia shook her head. ‘You’re such a cynic, Jenny. I feel enormous pleasure and exhilaration when I’m on stage and I’m as equal there as I want to be.’

  ‘It’s true that I might be a cynic,’ Jenny agreed. ‘I shall marry only when I meet a man who thinks the same as I do and I haven’t found one yet. But what about you, Dorothy? Is there no man in your life?’ she asked more softly, not noticing that she had reverted to her friend’s real name. ‘I always thought that you of all people would settle down to a comfortable life with a husband and children.’

  Delia gave a bittersweet smile. ‘To be truthful, so did I. I used to have these youthful fantasies that it would be hearth and home for me, with someone loving and caring. But,’ she added brightly, ‘it wasn’t meant to be.’

  ‘So,’ Jenny persisted, ‘there isn’t anyone? What about the good friend you mentioned, or the violinist?’

  ‘The violinist? No, I’ve only just met him. There’s no one. I do see my friend from time to time when I’m in London or Brighton; he gives readings of Shakespeare and sometimes Dickens, and he’s very good, very clever and amusing. But there’s no romance.’

  She thought wistfully of Arthur Crawshaw and wondered if he had asked anyone about her. Perhaps he hadn’t missed her yet. Weeks would go by sometimes between their encounters, and only her agent knew where she was at present, for she had written to tell him that she was staying in Hull for the time being but wished to be kept on his books. I might need him one day, she thought, for the three-month contract would soon speed by. She thought how lucky she had been to be given this breathing space. But I don’t want to move from the area yet, not until I’ve decided what to do about my boy, and at the moment I just don’t see how I can resolve it.

  Jenny had written a postcard to her parents telling them she would be on the Saturday morning train to Hedon and could someone meet her. Her father was waiting in the trap, with Louisa and Molly behind him.

  ‘Your ma is preparing a banquet,’ he joked. ‘She’s slaughtered ’fatted calf, brought in a full field of sprouts, carrots, cabbages and potatoes, and is cooking half a beast and Yorkshire pudding that looks fit to overflow the oven.’

  ‘Have I been away so long?’ She laughed. ‘Hope she’s making a sweet pudding too, cos I’ll still be hungry even after second helpings.’

  ‘Aye, apple pie and gooseberry crumble, so you’ve got a choice.’

  ‘Will anyone else be eating, or is it only me?’

  ‘I’ll help you, Auntie Jenny,’ Molly piped up. ‘I like apple pie.’

  ‘You do, don’t you, Molly? I remember.’ Jenny turned towards the girls. ‘What have you been up to since I last saw you?’

  ‘I might be going to school,’ Molly told her excitedly. ‘Gran’s going to ask if I can.’

  ‘And we might be moving,’ Louisa said quietly. ‘And I don’t want to.’

  Jenny turned to her father and raised her eyebrows. ‘Really?’

  ‘Aye, mebbe.’ They trotted through Hedon Market Place and on to the long Thorngumbald road. ‘Old Barney Foggit next door died recently and his wife’s moved to her daughter’s. Our Jack’s got ’chance of ’house and land if he wants it. House needs a lick o’ paint and a few other things but it’s generally sound, I reckon.’ He paused. ‘It’ll be convenient, being so close, but I’m not sure if he wants to move either.’

  ‘He’s a home bird is our Jack, but Susan must want her own place, doesn’t she?’

  Aaron lowered his voice. ‘Don’t know if she does. She’ll be tied if she’s to cook and clean, won’t she? She’s got plenty o’ time now for gadding about cos your ma does everything; allus has done since they were first married.’

  ‘But Da, that’s ten years ago! Why does she expect Ma to do everything?’

  He shrugged. ‘Dunno. She’s lost the bairn; did your ma write and tell you? A lad it was; never drew breath. The midwife blamed her, she blames the midwife. Anyway, now that she’s up and about, she and Jack are going to have a look round ’house. It’s got about two acres so they could keep some hens and pigs and a couple o’ goats to keep ’grass down, grow some veg.’

  ‘And do the girls want to go? Is it only Louisa who doesn’t?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Molly might stay wi’ us. Your ma wants her to.’ He dropped his voice further. ‘She’s bothered that she’ll be neglected otherwise and I’m inclined to agree wi’ her. And it’s true that she might be going to school. Schoolmistress and ’headmaster are in discussion about it.’

  Jenny nodded but didn’t comment. She’d speak to her mother privately about Molly so that Peggy was under no illusion about the girl’s education, or lack of it.

  ‘I’ve got a new friend.’ Molly leaned over towards Jenny, breathing heavily into her ear.

  ‘He’s my friend as well!’ Surprisingly for Louisa, her comment sounded like a complaint. ‘I met him first, Molly, before you did.’

  ‘Yes, but he’s my special friend now,’ Molly insisted, ‘cos he’s teaching me to read Alice in Wonderland.’

  ‘Is he? Who is this clever person?’ Jenny turned back to the little girls again.

  They both began to speak at once and Jenny said, ‘Whoa, whoa! Louisa, you can tell me; you’ve had a turn already, Molly.’ She saw Molly’s lips turn down but ignored it; the child was too used to getting her own way with her sisters.

  ‘He’s called Robin Jackson,’ Louisa told her. ‘And I met him at ’Sun Inn in Hedon on Hiring Day and he had some dinner with us and then came home to play. And he’s staying with us,’ she said in one long breath. ‘And he’s started at school as well ’n’ that’s why Molly wants to go too, but she won’t be able to sit with him cos ’boys sit at ’back of ’class.’

  Molly started to wail that it wasn’t fair and Jenny reminded herself that this was why she didn’t want children of her own. Not because they might be born with a frailty such as Molly’s, but because she valued her freedom, which she recognzed as being totally selfish in many people’s eyes.

  ‘Stop that now, Molly,’ she said firmly. ‘If you’re grown up enough to go to school, you also have to be obedient and do whatever the teacher tells you. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes,’ Molly muttered reluctantly. ‘But I can see him at playtime.’

  ‘Why is he at our house? Your house, I mean,’ she added quickly. ‘Where are his parents?’

  ‘Gran said we hadn’t to say,’ Louisa said before Molly could speak. ‘Gran’s going to tell you herself.’

  Jenny looked at her father and he answered in a low voice. ‘We don’t
know. His mother seems to have abandoned him, but you know your ma, she’s intent on keeping him safe until she turns up again. She’s tekken a liking to ’lad.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Jenny was beginning to wish she hadn’t come. ‘She can’t just keep him. She’ll have to report the situation to the authorities.’

  ‘She’s done that and they’ve put posters up, but there’s been no response. His ma seems to have vanished. Odd thing is that ’little lad doesn’t seem to mind. He says she’ll turn up sooner or later.’

  ‘Has she done this before, then? Gone off and left him? She needs locking up if she has. That’s child neglect.’ Jenny wrapped her scarf more closely round her neck and pulled her hat over her ears. ‘Ooh, but it’s cold,’ she muttered. ‘I hope Ma has a good fire.’ They’d turned down the long road to Paull and the wind hit them with full force as it blew off the estuary. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that the two children had huddled beneath a blanket.

  ‘Aye, she has. We’ve plenty o’ logs, coal and kindling. We’re well prepared for winter. Spades and salt at ’ready.’

  ‘Have you been fishing, Da? Or is it too cold?’

  ‘I’ve had a couple o’ Sat’days wi ’lads. Enjoyed them; went out last night, caught sea trout and shrimps. We’ll probably have them for dinner today.’

  ‘Yum yum,’ she said, and the little girls laughed behind them.

  The house was as cosy as Jenny expected it to be. A fiery red blaze in the range, a simmering cauldron of fisherman’s soup hanging from a hook over it and a good smell of roast beef coming from the oven. She thought how fortunate they were in their comfortable home compared with some of the children’s families that she knew.

  Laura and Molly ran upstairs to find their slippers while Peggy put her arms out to greet her daughter.

  ‘Oh, Ma, there’s no better smell than the one in your kitchen,’ Jenny said, giving her mother a hug. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so long in coming.’

  ‘Well, I hope it’s us you come to see and not just a good dinner,’ her mother joked. ‘It was summer when you were last here.’

  ‘I know.’ Jenny divested herself of her outdoor clothing. ‘There’s always so much to do at weekends, but I should make more effort.’ She glanced round the kitchen. ‘No Susan?’

  ‘Jack’s tekken her and Emma and Rosie to look at Barney Foggit’s old place, did your da not tell you?’ Peggy lifted the kettle on to the bars of the fire. She gave a great sigh. ‘I do hope she agrees,’ she said. ‘It’s time they had their own home.’

  ‘You make it too comfortable for her, Ma, doing everything yourself instead of asking her to give a hand.’

  ‘Yes, but she doesn’t do things ’way I like, so it’s my fault as much as hers. And when she was pregnant … and then there’s Molly, so I let her off.’

  Jenny got up to fetch a teapot and cups and saucers from a cupboard, put them on the table and then took the tea caddy down from the shelf above the range. ‘Da said she’d lost the child she was carrying,’ she commented as she spooned leaves into the teapot. ‘A boy? They must have been disappointed.’

  Peggy sat down at the table and watched her daughter make the tea. She nodded. ‘Jack was,’ she said. ‘He’s not very happy. A son might have made things right.’

  Jenny found a tin of biscuits, and bringing it to the table she sat down too and began to pour the tea. ‘If it’s not a happy marriage, having more children isn’t going to put it right,’ she murmured. ‘But they’ve got to make the best of it, having made their bed, as they say. There’s nothing to be done about it.’

  ‘Aye. Problem is that they made their bed far too soon. He was too young and immature to be married, and then having a child so quick—’ She stopped.

  Jenny sipped her tea and chose a shortbread biscuit. ‘Mmm. Nobody makes shortbread like you do, Ma. You’re right, he was too young. Nineteen, but he got caught, didn’t he?’ She helped herself to another biscuit. ‘When you’ve got a girl’s parents breathing down your neck, what can you do?’

  They heard the sound of voices outside and looked at each other. ‘Speaking of angels,’ Jenny said. ‘Good thing I made a large pot.’ She put the lid back on the biscuits. ‘Don’t want anybody spoiling their appetites,’ she grinned.

  Peggy laughed. ‘I’ll mek you some more to tek back with you. How long can you stay?

  ‘I’ll have to catch the two o’clock train tomorrow,’ Jenny said. ‘Sorry!’

  ‘And you won’t be here for Christmas either?’ her mother said resignedly and wasn’t surprised when Jenny pressed her lips together and shook her head as the door opened and Susan came in.

  ‘Oh!’ she said. ‘I’d forgotten you were coming, Jenny. We don’t see much of you.’

  Jenny gave a small smile. ‘I have to work,’ she reminded her. ‘How are you, anyway? I’m sorry to hear about the loss of your baby.’

  Susan pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. ‘I’m all right. Disappointed and a bit sad. It was a boy, so Jack’s cut up about it.’ She gingerly lifted the teapot lid. ‘Is there any tea left?’

  ‘Yes, plenty; help yourself,’ Jenny said. ‘I’ll have a top up, please, whilst you’re about it.’ She pushed her cup towards her. ‘How did you get on with the Foggit place? It will make a good smallholding, I should think.’ She laughed. ‘I remember that Dorothy and I used to take a short cut across it between her house and ours when we were little, and he always used to yell at us!’

  ‘Jack wants it,’ Susan said. ‘It needs work on it. Chimney needs sweeping. Distemper is flaking off ’kitchen walls.’

  ‘There’s still a sweep in the village, surely?’ Jenny asked. ‘There always used to be. So is that all that’s needed? They’ve looked after it, then. And enough bedrooms? I’ve never been in it, have you, Ma?’

  ‘Aye, many years back, before Foggit took it. It’s a good house,’ Peggy said. ‘Well sheltered by hawthorn hedges. Don’t know about upstairs.’

  ‘Three bedrooms,’ Susan told them. ‘One of them is onny small, but teks a single bed and a chest of drawers. That’d do for Louisa. Other two could have bigger one.’

  ‘Three, you mean.’ Jenny smiled. ‘Didn’t you have four daughters at the last count?’

  Susan swallowed and looked at Peggy. ‘Your Jack said …’

  ‘That Molly could stay with us,’ Peggy finished for her. ‘Yes, we did offer. Depends on whether you’d want her to.’

  ‘And does Molly have a say in this?’ Jenny asked quietly. ‘Won’t she want to stay with her sisters?’

  Susan gave a non-committal shrug. ‘She might want to stay here now that she’s tekken a liking to that stray lad Ma’s tekken on.’ She looked down at her fingernails, which were clean and short. ‘But as we don’t know his history or anything about him I’m not too sure about that. I’ll not trust him with any of my girls, at any rate, until we know more about him.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Outside the farmhouse the wind was beginning to howl and the windows rattled.

  ‘Stray lad?’ Jenny murmured as if she hadn’t heard him mentioned before. ‘Strayed from where?’ she asked, always precise.

  ‘Strayed away from his mother, or she’s strayed away from him,’ Peggy explained. ‘At any rate, he’s stopping here until she turns up, rather than be shipped off to a children’s home or somewhere. Cos that doesn’t seem right.’ She rose from the table to give the soup a stir.

  ‘And you don’t know who he is?’

  ‘We know his name!’ Peggy stood with her back to them and behind her Jenny glanced at Susan, who gave an offhand shrug.

  ‘Well, I’ll not trust him,’ she repeated.

  ‘He’s ten, Susan!’ Peggy turned back to face them. ‘He’s a child, ’same age as Louisa and she’s trusted wi’ Molly even though she’s vulnerable. But if you think that Aaron and me are not dependable enough to tek care of her after ’last eight years of doing so, then so be it.’

  ‘I don’t mean t
hat, Peggy, you know I don’t.’ Susan looked flustered. ‘I didn’t say—’

  ‘But you think that boy’s a threat to the girls?’

  Jenny could hear her mother’s temper rising and knew that any minute now Peggy’s normal good nature would blow and she’d say something she might regret.

  ‘Let’s calm down,’ she interrupted. ‘Let’s talk about it responsibly. It makes sense for him to stay here, rather than be given up to the police, if you don’t mind, Ma. I suppose you’ve notified the authorities?’

  Her mother didn’t answer, but merely nodded and stood with her eyes flashing and her lips clenched.

  Then they heard the crash of the scullery door opening and a great draught came wafting through, along with the sound of men’s and children’s voices; Aaron was telling the youngsters to take their boots off and wash their hands before going into the kitchen and a minute later Emma and Rosie came through and headed straight for Jenny, followed by their father and then a boy with hair the colour of dark sand and a merry grin on his face.

  Rosie wriggled on to Jenny’s knee whilst Emma stood next to her. ‘Hello, girls,’ Jenny said, adding the obtuse remark which she hated when other adults said it when speaking to children. ‘I do believe you’ve grown since I was last here.’

  ‘Aye, well, you’d hardly expect ’em not to have done.’ Jack bent and gave his sister a brief pat on the shoulder. ‘Seeing as we haven’t seen you since summer!’

  ‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘It’s work that gets in the way of doing what we’d like to do. And who is this young man?’

  Robin came forward and put out his hand. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘How do you do? I’m Robin Jackson. I’m – erm,’ he glanced towards Peggy, ‘staying here for now.’

  Jenny shook his hand. ‘Are you? Well, how very nice to meet you. I heard you’ve made good friends with Molly and Louisa?’

  He smiled rather bashfully. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We have good fun. They like to hear me read.’

  Rosie looked up. ‘He does White Rabbit in a funny voice,’ she chortled. ‘Do it, Robin. Do it for Auntie Jenny.’