by Emma Hornby
After knocking at his door and being told by his mother that he wasn’t yet back from work, Jewel went to wait for him at the corner. The passing minutes felt like hours and with each one that crawled by her nervousness steadily grew. Eventually, hooters from the surrounding cluster of mills and factories sounded and the town began to tremble quietly with the thud of clogs. They grew louder by the second and workers appeared, trudging through the grey streets like living corpses. Some chatted amongst themselves but, mostly, the exhausted crowd passed along mutely, minds on hearth and home and, if they were lucky, a meal of sorts awaiting them on the table.
By the time she saw him appear, empty bait tin swinging in one hand and flat cap in the other, his dark hair and clothes flecked with cotton spores, her heart threatened to smash through her chest. She stepped forward as he neared the ginnel’s entrance and he slowed, his face showing his surprise.
‘Jewel.’
‘Hello, Jem.’
They stared at one another for some seconds until, his brow creased slightly, he asked cautiously, ‘All right?’
She nodded. ‘Aye, you?’
‘Aye.’
Again, silence fell between them. In the past, he’d told her a little of his work as a mule spinner, that cotton pieces clung to the air in the mills like thick snow – it had made her glad she was employed in clean and respectable shop work. Now, a white wisp bobbed on his eyelashes as he blinked; without thinking, she reached out and brushed it away with her fingertip.
He smiled. ‘Was tha waiting here for me?’
Again, she moved her head up and down. Stabbing guilt returned, twisting her guts into knots, when his mouth spread further in pleasure. ‘Can I talk with thee?’ she forced herself to ask.
He led her through the cobbled entry to the familiar nook between two houses. Here, until not too long ago, they had shared innocent clandestine kisses. She was glad of the bad lighting that helped to conceal her flush at the memories and regret at what must come. ‘Jem, I—’
‘Please, let me say summat first.’ He stared at his feet. ‘I’ve been daft, Jewel. I miss thee, you know?’
‘I know,’ she murmured. And she knew he told the truth. It was clear in his tone. She couldn’t, however, return the sentiment in either feeling or speech. If she was true to herself, she hadn’t missed him, had she? Once the initial sting of betrayal had worn off, she’d found herself over him relatively quickly – proof their relationship hadn’t meant that much, really. Nor would she now say she had. The lies to come, the ones she must force herself to see through, would be enough. She wouldn’t add to them if she could help it and so she remained silent.
‘She, she meant – means – nowt to me.’
‘Happen I were hasty in ending things. Between us, like.’
Jem’s eyes widened. ‘Tha means that?’
‘Aye, I do.’ The words tasted bitter on her tongue and she had to swallow several times before continuing. ‘Mebbe we … well, we could begin afresh. What d’you say?’
‘I say aye, Jewel. Eeh, lass, you’ll not regret it.’ He took her hand in his. ‘I’ll do nowt to hurt thee again, you have my word on it.’
She blinked rapidly, nodded twice. ‘Right then. That’s sorted. I’d best get on home afore Mam gets worried.’
Jem walked with her. At the turning to her street he planted a loud kiss on her cheek. ‘Ay, I’m that happy.’
‘Aye,’ was all she could muster.
‘Bye for now, then.’ Whistling a cheery tune, he turned and sauntered back towards his house.
She watched him go through a film of tears. That was that, then. And how easy it had been. He hadn’t a single inkling of what she was about, the scheme she’d hatched, of just what he’d let himself in for.
She’d hoodwinked him without any effort at all.
She was the most despicable being in the world.
With effort, she suppressed her emotions. Where did feelings ever get you, anyway? she told herself bitterly. She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and continued home.
*
Focusing on the here and now worked best for Jewel, she found. Were she to let her mind wander even a day into the future, she’d begin to shake all over and her brow and palms broke out in a cold sweat.
How her mother didn’t guess that something was amiss with her, she struggled to think. Of course, Bernard was too busy to notice. Esther wouldn’t have cared even if she had. As for Benji, she barely set eyes on him. Life was seemingly continuing just the same as it ever had for him. He made no other mention of what had taken place between them. She could have almost imagined the whole thing had never occurred – if the reality wasn’t embedded like a cancer in her mind, that was.
Then came the day that she’d been awaiting with a mixture of frantic hope and heavy dread. It brought with it sickening, world-shattering truth, and she knew life as she’d known it would never be the same, for any of them, again.
Despite her having already accepted it from the start, still she found herself slipping out to the privy hourly. There, she would offer up a silent prayer before checking her underwear. Every time, the longed-for crimson staining was absent. And she just knew – knew – that what she’d feared all along had happened. Mother of God, how would she bear this?
She’d told herself that should, by some miracle, her bleed arrive, she’d make her excuses and call the whole thing off with Jem Wicks. After all, she’d have no use for him then, would she, and everything could return to some semblance of normality. How could she be so utterly deceitful? She avoided asking herself that, for her terror and self-loathing that it had come to this, that she had sunk to such a low, was like a physical pain.
But survival, self-preservation, were much stronger forces. Desperate folk did desperate things. Now, she had no option but to see her plan through. None.
She wouldn’t – couldn’t – bear the world knowing the real circumstances. Judged, disowned, loathed … The stigma of bastard clinging not only to herself but to the child, for ever more … She really would sooner die than that.
And no one did need to know, did they? If she played this right …
‘I’ll be a fair wife to you, Jem, I promise. I’ll devote my life to making it up to you, making you happy, I swear it,’ she whispered now through trembling lips to the cloud-filled sky, arms wrapped tightly around herself. ‘Forgive me. I’m sorry but I must do this.’
‘Lass, are you all right? Your grub’s growing cowd, here.’
‘Coming, Mam.’ Scrubbing at her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, she pushed herself away from the outside privy wall she’d been sagged against and dragged herself back indoors.
‘Good potato pie, that is, and you’ve barely touched it.’ Flora pointed at Jewel’s plate with her fork. ‘You sickening for summat? You’ve been back and fro to that privy the whole day long.’
Jewel forced down a morsel of pastry. ‘I reckon I’m sick, aye, Mam. My guts are off, must be summat I’ve ate.’
‘Coming out of both ends, is it?’ asked her mother sympathetically, adding, ‘Well, you get yourself an early night the night. There’s nowt cures a body better than sleep.’
Jewel nodded, though she had no intention of upholding the agreement. Tonight, the deed with Jem must be done – the sooner the better. Her entire future depended on it.
The following hours crawled by agonisingly slowly. Sitting at opposite sides of the fire, she and her mother darned in companionable silence. Finally, through the flames’ cosy rose-gold light, she spied her mother’s eyelids drooping. Jewel’s heart gave a few heavy thumps in response. Not long now. Almost time …
‘Ready for bed, lass?’ Dropping her sewing into the wicker basket on the table, Flora rose and stretched. ‘Go on up, my love. I’ll join thee in a minute once I’ve banked down the fire.’
‘I’ll do that, Mam.’
Her mother made to protest but tiredness won through: ‘You sure?’
‘Aye, go o
n. I’ll not be long.’
‘A good lass, that’s what you are,’ her mother said as she climbed the stairs, and Jewel could have cried.
Oh, Mam. Good I ain’t. Nay, not now. It’s foul and wicked I’ve become and there’s worse still to come. I’m sorry …
‘You asleep?’ she asked minutes later as she entered the tiny bedroom. It was clear Flora was; her steady, rhythmic snores proved it but still she pressed closer to the bed they shared, had to be certain: ‘Mam?’
Nothing. Watching her sleep, Jewel’s eyes filled with shameful tears. She reached out a hand to stroke her mother’s hair then, fearful of waking her and her plan being ruined, let it fall back to her side. She straightened and tiptoed from the room.
Avoiding the stairs she knew creaked, she reached the kitchen again with barely a sound. The ill-fitting door refused to cooperate and released a low groan as she opened it – cursing it under her breath, she squeezed her head through the gap and peered through the cool, indigo night. A full moon threw its cream-coloured beam along the cobbled expanse and after some moments she picked out a familiar figure through the shadows. A sigh of relief escaped her that he’d received word and had showed. She’d paid an urchin boy to call on Jem with the message earlier, but they couldn’t always be trusted to deliver; sometimes, they would simply scarper with the brass, never to be seen again. She beckoned Jem across with a flap of her hand.
‘All right, Jewel—?’
‘Sshhh.’
‘Sorry,’ he whispered back.
‘Come on in. Hurry, in case we’re seen.’ She pulled him inside and closed the door.
‘So.’ He removed his cap and placed it on the back of a chair. ‘Tha wanted to see me? All’s well, ain’t it?’
‘Aye, aye.’
‘Then what …?’
‘I just wanted to see thee is all. Here, sit down.’
Looking pleased – which tore at Jewel – Jem did as she said. He smiled in surprise when, instead of taking the seat opposite, she perched on the arm of his. He took her hand in his. ‘By, I’ve missed thee.’
She motioned to the ceiling and held a finger to her lips. ‘Quiet, lad. We don’t want to waken Mam.’
He nodded agreement. But something behind his eyes told her he wasn’t altogether comfortable with this – Jewel was quick to reassure him.
‘Don’t fret, it’s all right, really. She’s a fair heavy sleeper.’
‘I just don’t … Why did you ask me here at this hour, lass? You ain’t ever afore now.’
He was on to her, knew she was up to something. Paranoia stole through her, bringing heat to her cheeks. Her behaviour had made him suspicious – he was right, she’d never initiated anything like this in all the time she’d known him. She must take this slow or else all her carefully made plans would be ruined … ‘Like I said, I just wanted to see thee. I wanted to be alone with thee. Proper, like. We never really have time to ourselves. Do we?’
‘I … suppose not, nay.’ Understanding had finally filled his eyes. His licked his lips in a nervous yet excited motion. ‘Jewel?’
‘Aye, Jem?’
He wetted his lips once more. ‘When you say “time to ourselves”, do you mean like … well, you know?’
What if I do the deed with Jem and my bleed comes after all? The thought crashed through her brain. What if I’m wrong, if I’m not carrying Benji’s child? I’d have given myself – chained myself – to this lad here for nothing. Yet didn’t it arrive right on time every month? When had she ever been even a day late before? Never, that’s when – she could usually set the clock by it. Besides, hadn’t she just known that this would be the outcome of her shameful behaviour with her cousin? Instinctively, she’d felt the truth of it from the very start.
There was no mistaking it, however much she wanted to. She was with child. The sooner she had Jem’s seed inside her, the better for all concerned. For once he discovered her condition – which he would believe to be his doing – he’d wed her just as he’d suggested when hoping to win her back, she was certain of it. He’d be none the wiser to the real truth of things, she’d do her utmost to create a happy marriage and home for him in return and her reputation would remain unblemished. More importantly, the child would be spared the stigma of illegitimacy. After all, when all was said and done, none of this was the poor blighter’s fault, was it?
She was confident that Benji hadn’t the sense to put two and two together. He was too young, too immature, to understand the female body and its workings, surely? He couldn’t yet have any real knowledge of bleeds and dates and suchlike. Even if he was to suggest anything, she’d deny it to the hilt. He’d have no choice but to take her word as truth. It wasn’t as if he’d ever be able to prove otherwise.
Nothing stood in her way but her conscience. Could she really see this through? Did she have it in her to trick this lad like this, in the worst way possible?
‘Why don’t you come and sit here?’ Jem mumbled, hauling her mind back to the present. His cheeks had taken on a cherry hue – it was clear, despite his behaviour with that other girl, that he’d never before gone further with a female than kissing. He was as awkward as a young boy. ‘That’s if you want to, I mean,’ he hastened to add, flushing further. ‘If you’d rather not, if you’re comfy enough where you are, then … well, I just thought …’
Jewel snaked an arm around his neck. Then avoiding his gaze, she slid into his lap. Immediately, she felt his arousal straining through the coarse material of his trousers. Panic swamped her; she shifted instinctively but the motion proved only to stoke the flames to an inferno – he grew harder, groaning low in his throat.
‘Jewel … Oh, love.’ Wrapping his arms around her, he covered her mouth with his.
She matched his passion but, inside, her every sinew screamed at her to leap up and run as fast and as far away from him as she could. For his touch had awakened memories she’d thought the drink had killed for ever. She remembered. Benji’s podgy fingers probing painfully where they shouldn’t … His hot palms on her thighs, drawing them wide … Lord, no, don’t make me live it, not again …
Jem broke their kiss to fumble at his belt buckle and it took everything she had not to shriek and cry and slap his face again and again and again … She must allow him, must see this through. Jesus, give me strength.
‘Are you certain about this?’ Jem whispered through his panting.
Jewel doubted he’d be able to contain himself much longer but the fact that he’d even asked … Tears sprang to her throat and her guilt reached fever pitch. The enormity of what her answer would be was crushing her like a ten-ton weight.
‘We don’t have to, Jewel. Not if you ain’t ready.’
Oh Jem, Jem … Her heart was hammering so fast she thought she was going to pass out. Then, ‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’ She disentangled herself and scrambled to her feet. ‘I’m sorry, Jem.’
He closed his eyes and nodded. ‘No bother.’
‘You … don’t mind?’
‘Nay, course not. Just … give me a minute to cool down.’ He flashed a self-conscious grin then closed his eyes once more as he strove to steady his breathing.
She’d worked him up to such a level and yet … At least now she knew some males could control their urges if they wanted to. His understanding tore at her heart. How had she considered manipulating this decent lad for her own selfish gains? God, she was rotten through and through …
He deserved better. Oh, he did that. And she deserved everything she had coming to her, and more. She’d never forgive herself for what she’d almost done tonight. ‘Happen you should leave,’ she murmured.
He turned to look at her and frowned. ‘Aye. If you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Jewel, are we all right?’ Putting on his cap, he took her hand.
For the briefest moment, she squeezed back. Then, biting back tears, she slid out her fingers from his hold. He made to reach for her again but she stepped
away, shaking her head.
‘You seeking me out the other day; was you acting through spite all along? Was tonight, all of it, about revenge for what I did to thee?’
Nay. Oh, nay. God above, she couldn’t bear this …
‘Jewel?’
‘Goodbye, Jem.’
He stared at her for a long moment. His shoulders slumped and, sighing, he turned and left the house.
‘It’s for your own good, lad,’ Jewel mouthed to the closed door. ‘You’ll see that one day.’
Pressing a fist to her mouth, she crumpled, sobbing, into the chair.
Chapter 6
THE FLASH OF colour from the mass of bedding plants on the sloped bank captured hints of the sun’s gold. Sat on a set of steps at the south end of the park, Jewel hugged her knees and watched the delicate petals bobbing in the breeze.
Oddly, being here aroused no feelings of fear or disgust within her – in fact, she found that the park still evoked the same emotions it always had: calm and quiet enjoyment. For this, she was more grateful than she could express. Her drunken wickedness hadn’t tainted at least this one aspect of her life.
She heaved a sigh. She was due in work in half an hour and each passing second felt like a step closer to the gallows. She might as well find a rope and put it around her neck herself now, save her family the trouble.
Cotton manufacturing being the staple trade of the borough, a body could never escape the fact, whichever direction in the town they took – in the distance, mills and chimneys hovered on the skyline like silver-black bricked ghosts. Up and beyond, rising stately, proud, stood the tower of the new town hall. The sight made her want to weep. She could scarcely believe how different things were since that opening day. Had it really been but a few short weeks ago?
‘Sod them, all of them,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘To hell with their judgement. I’m past caring.’
Nonetheless, prickly heat flooded her face at the unavoidable confession to come. All was lost with Jem. Hiding her condition for long was impossible. There was nothing else for it – she had to come clean.
