A Mother's Choice

by Val Wood

  ‘After we’ve eaten,’ Peggy said huskily. She seemed shaken to the core.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Robinson,’ Delia whispered. ‘I hadn’t intended it to be this way. Although I didn’t know what I was going to tell you until I got here.’

  ‘There’s no need for you to apologize for anything, Delia,’ Aaron butted in, and now there was steel in his voice. ‘But somebody has to answer for himself afore this day is out.’

  The house was filled with little girls as Louisa, Emma, Rosie and Molly returned. Robin introduced them to his mother, murmuring to her that Louisa was his very best friend. Molly overheard him and butted in to add that she was Robin’s special friend too and that he was teaching her to read.

  ‘I hope you don’t all spoil him,’ Delia said quietly.

  They didn’t seem to know what spoiling meant, and Louisa piped up that Robin was like a new brother; and then Molly added that they’d had a baby brother but that he’d died and they’d never even seen him.

  Delia glanced at Peggy, who nodded. ‘Stillborn,’ she said quietly. ‘Came too early.’

  Dinner was almost ready and Delia asked, ‘Can I do anything?’ as Jenny put on an apron to baste the roast potatoes. ‘Although I’m out of practice,’ she confessed.

  ‘No, you take it easy,’ Peggy said. ‘You’re our guest today. Mebbe another time when you come again?’

  Inwardly, Delia felt an easing of tension. They weren’t going to ask her and Robin to leave, even though she was sure they had now grasped the whole situation. Aaron had gone out into the yard. Through the window she could see him pacing.

  ‘Have you never had a proper home since you left ’village?’ Peggy asked her when all the children had disappeared into the parlour.

  ‘No,’ Delia said croakily. ‘I—’ She looked down into her lap and confessed, ‘When my mother found out, she told my father, and …’ She hesitated. There was no need to tell of the leathering or the harsh things he had said or threatened her with; neither did she want to drag up the sickening memory.

  ‘He said I should leave immediately, but Ma persuaded him that I could stay the night and leave next morning. He agreed to that but said I shouldn’t be there when he got back from fishing or it would be the worse for me.

  ‘It’s a long story. I’d just enough money to pay for the train into Hull and lodgings for one night, and the next day I began looking for work.’

  The scullery door banged and they could hear Aaron pulling off his boots. He came into the kitchen in his thick socks. Peggy changed the subject, saying that it was a pity she and Jenny couldn’t have stayed the night, but conceding that they both had commitments, before adding anxiously, ‘But you’ll let Robin stay, won’t you?’ Then Aaron interrupted to say, ‘Of course we want him to stay, but we must talk this over, and it’ll be Delia’s decision in ’long run.’

  Peggy looked worried at his remark but busied herself with checking the vegetables. Delia got up and went to stand by the window looking out at the yard. There were ducks and hens scratching about in the dust and a terrier-type dog sitting by the fence watching them as if he might round them up if they attempted to escape or misbehave.

  She recalled that the Robinsons had always had a dog that could be patted or stroked, unlike the dogs that her father had kept on a metal chain in the kennel near the door. They were either cowed or vicious, and she thought that he had made them so by his ill-treatment.

  ‘That’s a nice little dog out there.’ It was a throwaway remark of no consequence to anyone in particular.

  ‘That’s Charlie; he’s Robin’s dog,’ Aaron replied, coming over to her side. ‘I rescued him from a bad home and Robin took a fancy to him. Our old dog went to ’new house.’

  ‘Robin has a dog?’ she murmured. ‘Oh!’

  ‘That’s all right, isn’t it?’ Aaron turned to her. ‘I was going to get another dog to keep here. The other dog is used to ’bairns, that’s why he went wi’ them. But then I came across this one and he sort of followed me home.’

  ‘And you gave him to Robin?’

  ‘We’re sharing him,’ he said softly. ‘We’ve built him a kennel.’

  ‘You and Robin?’

  ‘Aye, that’s right.’ He looked at her kindly and put his large hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s ’sort o’ thing I’d have done if I’d had a grandson. Done things together, you know.’

  She nodded but couldn’t speak. Such a simple act of kindness brought tears to her eyes. Aaron hadn’t known then that Robin had any connection to him, and yet he still treated him thoughtfully and generously. They were good people, she thought, and the knowledge should make her decision easier, but it didn’t. Even though she had left him with them, every day that passed she missed him more and more.

  ‘Are you all stopping for some dinner?’ Peggy asked the girls. ‘Or is your ma cooking when she comes back?’

  ‘Don’t know, Gran,’ Louisa said.

  ‘I want to stop,’ Rosie said. ‘I couldn’t smell anyfing cooking at home.’

  ‘We’re having cold ham and mash, Ma said.’ Emma chipped in. ‘And she’ll cook later. She’s really busy cos she’s had to go over to Preston to look at this new horse.’

  ‘Right,’ Peggy said evenly. ‘Wash hands, everybody, we’re about ready. Jenny, will you put out extra cutlery?’

  There was a mad rush to the scullery and Delia smiled; it didn’t seem to perturb Peggy in the slightest that there’d be three extra mouths to feed.

  They were finishing off their apple sponge pudding when Jack arrived back and announced that he hadn’t bought the horse after all. ‘He was difficult to handle,’ he said. ‘There’s no wonder Rudge’s missis didn’t want him. Susan wouldn’t have been able to hold him. We’ll look for another.’

  He looked at the girls sitting at the table with clean dishes in front of them. ‘You’ve had your dinner, then. Don’t suppose you’ve left any for me?’

  They all solemnly shook their heads. ‘You’re too late, Da!’ Molly said.

  He heaved a big sigh of disappointment that made the children laugh, and Delia wondered how they would react if they found out the truth about their father and her and Robin. And what about his wife? How would she take the news? Delia didn’t know her except by name, but she’d heard Jenny’s unfavourable comments about her.

  ‘You can tek ’remains of ’joint home if you like,’ Peggy offered in an offhand kind of way. ‘Susan can mebbe serve it up cold with some fresh vegetables.’

  ‘Thanks, Ma,’ Jack murmured. Then he bestirred himself. ‘Are you staying here for a bit or coming home?’ he asked his daughters.

  ‘Staying,’ they chorused. ‘We’ve got games to play,’ Rosie explained; then Louisa stood stock still and looked at Delia.

  ‘You’re not taking Robin home with you, are you, Mrs Del—’ She hesitated over the name. ‘Mrs Delmore?’

  ‘Not today,’ Delia said quietly. ‘Not unless your gran and grandda say so.’ She silently uttered a plea that they wouldn’t; what would they do, now that they knew, or almost knew, the truth? ‘Would you like him to stay?’

  It was unfair to say that, she realized. She was playing on everyone’s emotions.

  ‘Yes we would,’ Louisa and Molly spoke as one, and Emma and Rosie both nodded their heads.

  ‘Where do you live?’ Jack interrupted abruptly. ‘In Hull, or … have you come back to live wi’ your folks?’

  He must have seen the shock and dismay on her face and his eyes widened. ‘You haven’t been to see them?’ He looked from Delia to Robin, who was standing tense and confused and looking at each grown-up in turn; then Jack looked back at Delia. ‘Why not? They’re your kin. Surely …’

  He doesn’t understand, she thought. He has no idea whatsoever. Do I explain now or leave it for another day? Peggy and Aaron were watching her, waiting with bated breath for her answer to their son’s question. It had to be now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  ‘Go and play, t
hen,’ Peggy told the children. ‘We’ll have a cup of tea.’

  The girls trooped out but Robin stood looking at his mother until Louisa tapped him on the arm, urging him to join them. He followed her, but gave a last backward glance to Delia.

  She picked up her shawl and draped it around her shoulders. ‘I’ll explain if you like,’ she said to Jack. She pointed through the window to where a pale sun was attempting to break through the cloud. ‘Shall we go outside, so we don’t bore everybody else?’

  Jack looked curiously at her, clearly wondering about her motive. ‘Aye, if you like, then I must get back home. Susan’ll wonder what I’m doing.’

  ‘Will she?’ Delia asked as they went to the door. ‘Does she keep you on a tight rein?’

  He closed the door behind them, and gave a wry laugh. ‘Ma thinks she does. There’s not much love lost between them two.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ Delia walked across to the fence, away from any view from the house, and leaned upon it. The dog had gone to his kennel and the hens were clucking around the barn. She looked towards it and gave a little shudder as she remembered.

  From where they stood she could see the edge of Foggit’s land, where she and Jenny had once dashed across to reach one’s house or the other’s. She could see the corner of her parents’ old cottage and the light glinting on a window, and knowing that her mother sometimes spied on her neighbours she turned her back to it.

  ‘Not sure, really.’ He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, then with his boot he idly scraped at a weed growing beneath his foot. ‘Goes back a long way. Ma thought I was too young to get married. She said it was a shotgun wedding.’

  ‘And was it?’ she asked quietly.

  He gave a slight nod. ‘Yeh, I suppose.’ He was silent for a moment, and then muttered, ‘I had no sense back then – easily led.’ He chanced a look at her. ‘I did a few things wrong; things that I’m sorry for. You know that I did, Dorothy.’

  Here it comes, she thought. ‘I’m Delia,’ she reminded him. ‘It was Dorothy who was violated; Dorothy who was beaten by her father when he found out she was pregnant. It was Dorothy who was turned out of the house. Dorothy who ran away from everything and everybody she knew.’ She paused. ‘Because of you.’

  He lifted his head and looked at her, his mouth open. ‘No!’ he said in a low voice. ‘Oh, God! No!’

  She held his gaze. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say?’ His voice was hoarse. ‘Why didn’t you come and tell us?’

  ‘I did,’ she said softly. ‘I did come.’ Her voice shook. ‘I spoke to your mother; I’d hoped to see Jenny but she wasn’t here; she was still in Hull. And then … your ma – Peggy – told me that you’d gone with Susan to talk to the vicar about reading the banns for your marriage.’

  Tears streamed down her cheeks; it suddenly seemed like yesterday that it had happened to her other self, and she was sorry for her.

  Jack turned his back to the house and with his elbows on the fence he covered his eyes with his hands. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘I’m so very sorry. How could I do such a thing? Where did you go? What did you do?’

  ‘When my father heard he took his belt to me and said I had to get out, but then he said I could stay until the next morning, so it was then that I slipped out and went to your house. When your mother told me about you and Susan, I didn’t know what to do or who to turn to, but I knew I had to get as far away from home as possible if I valued my life. He’d told Ma that he was going fishing and taking the boat out early dawn, and I had better be gone before he got back.’

  She remembered sitting up in bed willing herself not to fall asleep, and then whilst it was still dark hearing him plod downstairs; she’d listened for his routine of picking up the bread and cheese that her mother always left ready for him, unhooking his coat from behind the door and his grunt as he pulled on his boots, then the wrench of the door bolt and the click of the latch. She’d waited five more minutes, listening to hear if her mother was rising, but then on hearing her rattling snore had scurried downstairs in her bare feet.

  She had known for a long time where her father kept his money; she it was who kept the house clean, the floors swept and the little furniture that they had dusted and polished, and every morning she shook the mat that covered the loose floorboard under which he kept the tin box. She didn’t know where the money came from, but assumed it was from selling shrimps; she and her mother never saw any of it. She didn’t know if her mother knew about the hiding place. Her father paid any bills and handed out coins to buy groceries when they asked, and he always demanded the receipt.

  ‘I stole money from his secret tin,’ she confessed. ‘I knew he wouldn’t give me any and that my mother had very little, but I was desperate to get out of the district so that he wouldn’t ever find me and I could only do that by catching the train from Hedon to Hull.’

  She wiped her eyes and gave a grimace. ‘There was more money in that tin than I’d ever seen in my life, but I didn’t dare take much in case he counted it and came after me.’

  She’d wrapped the coins in a piece of clean rag that she used as a handkerchief, knotted it and placed it inside her bloomers, gone back upstairs to dress in her warmest clothes and gone downstairs again to eat her breakfast of bread and dripping. Her mother had come down too but didn’t speak to her, not even when she was putting on her coat and boots ready to leave, but then she had put her hand into her apron pocket and handed her a penny, and said it was all she had.

  Jack listened quietly, and then began his own justification. ‘I – I’d – Susan told me that she was expecting,’ he stammered. ‘I hadn’t been – I mean, I’d never … well, it was cos of Ralph Pearce. I’d met him at Patrington hirings ’year before. He allus had plenty of money, his folks have a big farm somewhere round there, and I knocked about with him and we sometimes went to hostelries together.’

  He looked down at the ground. ‘He used to tell me about ’girls he’d been with and how … you know, how they were allus willing. I didn’t really believe him, but he kept on about it every time we met, and—’ he swore to himself, calling himself a fool. ‘Well, I suppose I’d got all worked up, and then a bit later Susan was waiting for me; she told me that she’d been talking to Ralph Pearce and he’d told her that I was looking for some excitement.’

  Delia turned in astonishment. Why was he telling her this? Where was it leading? ‘I don’t think you should—’ she began.

  He ran his fingers through his thick red hair, making it stand up in tufts, and grunted, ‘It’s relevant, Dorothy. It’s relevant!’

  She wanted to scream at him that she didn’t want to know about his sordid escapades, that it didn’t excuse what had happened to her.

  ‘Don’t you see?’ he pleaded. ‘She came to me! And I was green and inexperienced and – and it was so disappointing and I thought that it was supposed to be special, and then about a week later you called and there wasn’t anybody at home …’ He paused. ‘I liked you, Delia. I’d always liked you, but you were allus shy and quiet, and – and I took advantage of you that day, and I’m really sorry. I was sorry as soon as you’d run off home.’

  He took a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’ He took a deep sighing breath. ‘And if I’d known about … well, I would have done ’right thing by you.’

  ‘Except that Susan got there first,’ she muttered. ‘Quite a Lothario, weren’t you?’

  ‘What?’ He gazed at her, not understanding her sarcasm. ‘So where did you go?’ he asked again. ‘How did you manage on your own? Did you get work?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said wearily, ‘I did.’ She was tiring of telling this story. There could be no end to it, no conclusion, and she was beginning to form the opinion that she was glad she hadn’t told him of her pregnancy before Susan told him of hers. Had she and Jack married, she would have had a loving family in Peggy and Aaron, and a comfortable existence, but would she have bee
n happy in a marriage with Jack?

  Delia slowly shook her head; her life alone had been very difficult, but she’d survived and had the constant love of her son to sustain her. She wanted nothing from Jack for herself, but she wanted a loving family life for Robin. He had missed out, just as she had done as a child, but she could do something about it: she could ask Peggy and Aaron if they were still willing to let him stay now that they knew the truth; to let him enjoy the security of a family around him until such time as he wanted to move on or return to an uncertain life with her.

  ‘I found work as a cleaner in a Hull theatre,’ she said softly, giving him only the bones of her story. ‘I even slept there, hiding in a cupboard until everyone had gone, and I stayed there until after his birth. People were kind … then I joined a theatre company and travelled. I had my son,’ she said slowly, still wondering if he fully understood. ‘It was ten years ago. He’s the same age as your daughter Louisa, and he looks just like you.’

  Except, she thought, he’s more handsome, intelligent, funny and adorable. She continued to gaze at him until she saw the dawn of comprehension.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Robin. Did you not guess? I named him Jack Robinson Deakin. I gave my maiden name for his birth certificate.’

  Jack stood staring at her as if a thunderbolt had struck him.

  ‘The bright boy that he is,’ she said proudly, ‘he decided that he didn’t want to be called Jack Robinson because—’

  ‘Everybody meks a joke about it,’ he mumbled.

  ‘That’s why he called himself Robin Jackson.’

  ‘He’s my son!’ Jack’s words were husky and low. He swallowed hard but the tears came anyway and his voice broke. ‘I’m so very sorry, Delia, that I put you through so much because of my – my brutal behaviour. I’m not usually – I mean, I never – don’t – normally behave in that way. I wasn’t brought up to be unfeeling. Ma and Da are going to be that mad at me and I – I don’t want them to be ashamed of me. I am ashamed,’ he said, weeping with emotion, and rubbing his eyes and nose with the back of his hand, ‘and I’ll do what I can to mek it up to you.’