by Val Wood
Delia gave a sudden laugh; she recalled now how she had always followed in Jenny’s shadow, trusting that whatever Jenny said or did would be right. ‘No,’ she teased her. ‘It’s not just since you’ve become a teacher. You were always confident, and if you said that black was white I believed you.’
She tucked her arm under Jenny’s. ‘I always trusted you. But now it’s my turn.’ They turned on to the station concourse and headed for the platform where the Hedon train was waiting. ‘I must decide what to say and do. I’m so glad of your support, Jenny, and I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve already done to help me.’ She took a breath. ‘But it’s my life and my son’s at stake and whatever the outcome of this meeting, I must make the final decision.’ She turned to her friend. ‘Tell me that you understand.’
Jenny nodded. ‘I do,’ she said, ‘and I don’t mean to meddle.’ Her lip trembled and Delia knew that Jenny, who wasn’t usually an emotional person, cared enough for her to go out of her way to help her. ‘I just want to make up to you for what happened. I feel responsible,’ her voice broke, ‘because it was my own brother who caused this havoc in your life.’
Delia shook her head, and as they entered the train and sat down in an empty carriage she said softly, ‘I’ve been thinking about that. In fact I’ve been thinking a lot over this past week since I decided to grasp the nettle, as you described it, and I came to the odd conclusion that your brother Jack, although ruining the life that I had, gave me another, and one that is preferable to the former.’ She hesitated. ‘And if necessary I’ll bring my Jack – Robin – back with me and give him the life he deserves. I will give up the theatre and I’ll work at anything, just as I did when I was expecting him. I’ll be a shop girl, a mill woman; I’ll even scrub the stage where once I was a star.’
As Jenny had predicted, her father was at Hedon station to meet them off the train. He kissed Jenny’s cheek and took Delia’s outstretched hand and clasped it in his, then leaning forward he kissed her cheek too.
‘Now then, Dorothy,’ he said softly. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘It has, Mr Robinson,’ she said, moved by his friendliness and affection. ‘You do remember me, then?’
‘Aye, I do.’ He shepherded them towards the trap. ‘You were allus a quiet little lass from what I recall. Not a chatterbox like our Jenny.’
‘I was,’ she admitted, ‘and I suppose I still am, to some degree.’
‘And her name is Delia now, Da,’ Jenny told him.
‘Oh? What’s wrong wi’ Dorothy then?’ He gave her a friendly grin. ‘Too plain for them London folk, eh?’
‘I changed my life, Mr Robinson, so I changed my name as well.’
As they drove, Delia realized that she had almost forgotten about the wide skies of Holderness; it had been dark when she and Jack arrived all those weeks ago, and the following day she had been too concerned about their situation to notice; but now, on seeing the pattern of clouds scudding across the blue-grey sky as they began their journey towards Paull, she was reminded of the joy a sunrise or a sunset could give her when she was a young girl. She would stop briefly and wonder at it; a pale golden dawn over the Humber or a deep suffusing purple sunset over the flatlands of Holderness. The skies were often like vivid paintings moving at speed, changing colours as the light rose or faded depending on the time of day, or the season. Each silver-rimmed drifting cloud brought a small miracle of beauty, miraculously creating castles and mountains for those who cared to find them.
‘Look at the sky,’ she murmured as they continued along the road towards Thorngumbald. ‘How wide it is without any buildings to block the view.’
‘Aye,’ Aaron agreed. ‘Holderness skies allus give me a sense of peace, except when they’re dramatic and full of impending weather. Your lad came fishing wi’ me, by the way,’ he added. ‘He’s a natural.’
‘Really?’ Delia was astonished. ‘He’s never been out in a boat.’
‘He has now,’ Aaron told her. ‘He loved it. Says he’s going to be a fisherman.’
That must mean that he wants to stay, Delia thought. Am I ready for that? Do I really want him to? When will I see him? I can’t give him up completely! She breathed heavily. It seemed that whichever way she turned brought an added quandary.
They pulled into the yard outside the house and Peggy opened the back door to them as they stepped down from the trap.
‘Hello, Ma, here I am again.’ Jenny gave her mother a kiss and Delia felt a pang of envy, recalling the greeting she had received from her own mother when she had called back in November and been turned away at the door. ‘And here is Delia,’ Jenny said more soberly. ‘Dorothy as was.’
Delia went towards Peggy. ‘Hello, Mrs Robinson,’ she said quietly, feeling again like the shy girl she had been.
Peggy put out her arms to embrace her, putting her warm cheek against Delia’s cold one and saying, ‘Come in, come in, do. It’s very good to see you again, Delia. It’s been far too long.’
The kitchen, with its warm range and a table laid ready with places set for the midday meal, looked exactly as always, and the same delicious aroma of roast meat wafted from the oven.
‘Nothing’s changed,’ she said, looking round. ‘It’s exactly as I remember it; so cosy and warm – and welcoming.’
She felt her eyes filling with tears and there was a tightness in her chest. It was no wonder that her son wanted to stay; she could wish the same for herself if it had been possible.
‘Let me take your coat, m’dear, and come and sit down by ’fire. The kettle is on ’boil. I expect you’ll be ready for a cup o’ tea?’
‘Yes, please,’ she said, trying to hold her emotions together but unable to check the tears that trickled down her cheeks as other memories came to the fore. ‘You’re very kind. Extremely kind.’
‘I’ll make the tea, Ma,’ Jenny said. ‘You sit down and chat to Delia. Where are the children?’ she added brightly, and Delia sensed that she was trying to make their situation as normal as possible.
‘Molly and Robin have gone across to see ’other bairns at Foggit’s,’ Peggy said. ‘I suggested they should, but said to be sure to come back before twelve o’clock as we were having something special for dinner.’ She laughed. ‘Robin asked if we were having Yorkshire pudding and I said he’d have to wait and see.’
At the mention of Robin’s name, Delia burst into tears, unable to contain them any longer. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she wept. ‘I’m so very sorry.’
Peggy patted her shoulder and drew up a chair near to her. ‘That’s it,’ she murmured. ‘Weep it all out. I expect you’ve been holding in tears all ’morning. Don’t worry about me, m’dear. We’ll sort something out between us, one way or another.’
‘I don’t see how we ever can,’ Delia could hardly speak, she was so choked. ‘You don’t know the half of it, Mrs Robinson, and when you do you won’t want to know me, any more than my ma or da did all those years ago.’
‘Now then, now then,’ Peggy protested. ‘I onny know that somebody took advantage of you when you were onny an innocent young girl, and you must stop blaming yourself. You’ve made a good job of bringing up your son under what must have been very difficult circumstances, and I can tell you, from what I’ve discovered about him, he’s a boy to be proud of.’
Delia wiped her eyes and blew her nose. ‘Thank you,’ she snuffled. ‘I am proud of him. I’ve been lucky; he’s never been a minute’s trouble since the day he was born.’
‘That’s not luck,’ Peggy said firmly. ‘That’s ’way that you’ve taught him. You don’t get good manners and politeness from luck, but onny by what you’ve been taught. Now come on, dry them tears. Here’s our Jenny wi’ a cup that cheers, which is just what we all need.’
Jenny was carrying a tray with teapot, milk, sugar, and four cups and saucers. She put it down on the table and called to her father, who was hovering in the scullery. ‘Come on, Da. I’m going to pour the tea.’
&nb
sp; They sat quietly as they drank, Peggy and Aaron making desultory conversation about the weather to fill in the expanse of silence. Finally Aaron put down his cup. ‘Now then, Dorothy,’ he said, looking straight at Delia. ‘Sorry – Delia. That’s a pretty name, by the way. I like it. It suits you, the young woman you have become and not ’quiet scared little lass you once were. You were, weren’t you? Frightened of your own shadow?’
Delia hesitated for a moment and then said, ‘I was never afraid of the dark; only of people. I was always afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. That’s why I was quiet, so that I didn’t make any mistakes.’ She gave a slight shrug. ‘The odd thing is that I’m not afraid of standing up to sing in front of an audience.’
‘Well, just fancy that,’ Aaron commented. ‘Why’s that, do you think?’
‘Because I’m now someone else. I’m not the family drudge who can do no right, but a singer, and people pay to hear me. A friend explained it to me; he said that I was wearing a sort of invisible cloak or mask to hide behind.’
‘Well,’ Aaron muttered. ‘Would you believe it? I’ve nivver heard of such a thing, have you, Mother?’
Peggy shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t, but I can believe it. We all act differently in front of different people.’
Aaron looked up from the contemplation of his knees. ‘I don’t. At least I don’t think I do.’
Jenny smiled at her father. ‘No, I don’t think you do, Da. You’re always the same, no matter what. Thank goodness,’ she added. ‘It’s reassuring to know that some people never change.’
‘So what now?’ Aaron asked. ‘What ’we going to do about ’little lad? No matter what we think or do, he’s the one who’s important. It’s his future that’s at stake. I tek it that you’ll stay in ’same profession, which can’t be all that reliable, I suppose, though I know nowt about it.’
‘It isn’t reliable, Mr Robinson,’ Delia said. ‘Performers are lucky to get a booking from one season to the next, and tastes change. Audiences often like something new, although fortunately they still like the old songs.’
‘So you can’t stay in one place for long?’ Peggy asked. ‘You have to move to a different area for a new audience?’
‘Like a travelling troubadour?’ Aaron put in.
‘Yes, something like that,’ Delia admitted and put down her cup. ‘Which was why – which was why …’ She could feel her eyes filling up again. How could she explain the desperation she had finally felt? No prospect of work, no prospect of a roof over their heads without money to pay for lodgings, but worst of all no prospect of an education or a proper home for her son.
‘No place to call home?’ Peggy said gently. ‘Is that why you came back; in the hope that your parents would help you?’
Delia bent her head and nodded. How stupid she had been to think such a thing; they had turned her away at the beginning of her troubles, so how could she have been so senseless as to think they might have had a change of heart? As Jenny had just said, some people never did change and her parents could be included in that category.
Aaron was about to say something when they all heard the click of the latch on the scullery door and the sound of children’s voices.
Delia wiped her eyes and patted her cheeks and gave a wide smile as first a little girl and then Robin tumbled exuberantly into the room. Robin stopped dead on seeing his mother and then flew into her arms.
‘Oh, Mother,’ he said, kissing her over and over again. ‘I never expected—’ He turned to Peggy. ‘Is this the special treat you said, Granny Peg, and nothing to do with our dinner?’
At Peggy’s nod, for she was too emotional to speak, Robin hugged his mother again, saying, ‘You’re much better than Yorkshire pudding, Mother, even though I could eat you up.’
None of them heard the click of the latch a second time or heard Jack’s tread as he came into the kitchen, or even noticed him standing there, staring, until Molly piped up.
‘Da, do you know who this lady is? Cos I don’t.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jack came forward, shaking his head at Molly’s question. ‘I – I don’t think so, though I’d guess it’s Robin’s ma.’
‘You’re right, Jack.’ Robin got to his feet. ‘This is my mother, Delia Delamour.’ He gave a huge grin. ‘She’s come on a visit to see me.’
Delia looked up at Jack as he slowly came forward to meet her, holding out his hand to greet her. He hasn’t forgotten his manners, then, she thought, and murmured, ‘You’d perhaps remember me as Dorothy Deakin.’ Robin looked at her with interest, and then at Jack, and frowned slightly as if recalling something.
Jack released her hand and a slow flush suffused his neck. He cleared his throat. ‘Aye? I – doubt I would’ve known you, Dorothy.’
‘Delia,’ she corrected resolutely. ‘Dorothy is long gone; dead and buried.’
‘Mother, what do you mean? I’ve heard you say that before.’ Robin looked confused.
‘You did,’ Delia reached for him, putting her arm round his waist. ‘It’s all right. I’m Delia. I changed my name a long time ago; you won’t remember. I like it better than Dorothy, don’t you?’ She spoke quietly and confidently, wanting to reassure him that there was nothing amiss.
‘Oh, yes, I remember now.’ Robin’s face cleared. ‘It sounds better for the stage, doesn’t it? Molly,’ he said to the little girl who was watching and listening, ‘come and say hello to my mother.’
‘You’re on ’stage?’ Jack seemed puzzled. ‘H-how come? I – we often wondered what had happened to you. You just disappeared.’
‘I did.’ She turned to Molly and said hello, and then returned her gaze to Jack. He seemed like a different person from the one she remembered, as she must seem to him.
He blinked and suddenly looked away from her and spoke to his father. ‘I, erm – I came to ask if I could tek owd Betsy and ’trap,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I’ve heard of a hoss and trap for sale over at Preston; it’s a good price, and we can do wi’ another.’
‘I’ll have to have them back by this afternoon,’ Aaron told him. ‘I’ve to run our Jenny and Delia back to Hedon to catch ’last train. I can’t tek them in ’wagon.’
‘I’ll onny be an hour.’ He seemed anxious to be off. ‘Susan’s coming wi’ me to drive back if it’s suitable.’
‘Aye, all right then,’ Aaron agreed. ‘Who’s selling?’
‘Rudge. His wife wants an older hoss; the one they’re selling is a bit too lively for her.’
Peggy commented that they could certainly do with another, younger horse and a bigger trap to fit everyone in. She called after him to bring the girls over before he left and Jack swiftly made his exit, muttering something about not being long. Molly, bored with the conversation, followed him out.
Peggy got up to take the beef out of the oven and prepare the vegetables. ‘I’d better crack on if we’re eating at midday.’
‘Granny Peg makes lovely Yorkshire pudding,’ Robin told his mother, and put his arms akimbo to show his waistline. ‘That’s why I needed bigger breeches.’
‘I’m sure she does.’ Delia trembled with relief now that Jack had gone; she hadn’t wanted to confront him and thought he’d been aware that there was something not quite right. ‘Are you happy?’
‘I am!’ Robin said. ‘I love it here, but …’ He looked into her eyes. ‘I mean – if you’re sad without me …’ Looking down, he picked up her hand and played with her fingers, ‘… then I’ll come back with you. Because I don’t want you to be sad and you seem sad now.’
Peggy turned from the range; Jenny looked across at her father, who in turn gazed at Robin with his lips parted.
With her other hand, Delia stroked her son’s face. ‘You’re the best boy in the whole world,’ she whispered. ‘The person I love more than anyone else, and the reason I’m here today is for us to decide what’s best for you.’ She swallowed. ‘And the only way to do that is to talk to Mr and Mrs Robinson and ask them i
f they’ll forgive me for leaving you here without asking their permission.’
‘But you didn’t know I’d come back with them that day at the hiring fair,’ he argued. ‘I should have waited for you.’
‘No, I didn’t know, but I guessed that you might,’ she murmured. ‘Or that they might take you with them if I didn’t turn up. I saw you with the family at the table in the Sun Inn and saw how you fitted in, and I left you, Jack.’ She spoke his given name without realizing it. ‘I left you, hoping that they’d look after you in the way that I couldn’t.’
Peggy sat down with a thump on the nearest seat, and Aaron put out his hand to find his easy chair without actually looking for it.
Robin smiled at her. ‘You’ve given the game away,’ he teased. ‘Now they’ll know my name’s not Robin.’ He grinned up at Peggy and Aaron and then Jenny. ‘You didn’t know that I’d swapped my name round, did you? Robin Jackson from Jack Robinson. It’s a good thing I did,’ he blithely and innocently went on. ‘It would have been confusing otherwise, wouldn’t it?’
Delia’s throat tightened; this wasn’t what she had planned, and she was about to tell him that his name was also Deakin. Then she decided that that was a step too far and would be too much for him to take in, as well as raising more questions.
‘I like it,’ Jenny chipped in to fill an awkward pause. ‘The robin’s a very cheerful bird, isn’t it, with its merry tune, and I think the name suits you very well.’
‘Robin,’ Aaron broke in, shakily, ‘could you build up ’fire in parlour? When all ’little girls get here we’ll have to spread out a bit.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Robin detached himself from his mother and went into the scullery to collect logs.
‘I think we need to have a discussion,’ Aaron suggested in a low voice. ‘If what I’m hearing and ’conclusion I’m coming to is true.’ He took a deep breath. ‘And we can’t do that in front of ’lad; not yet, at any rate.’
