A Mother's Dilemma

by Emma Hornby

  ‘What? What is it?’

  ‘Are you Flora’s girl?’

  Now, it was Jewel’s turn to ask: ‘Who did you say?’

  ‘Is your mam Flora Nightingale?’

  She glanced away from her to Minnie, who was sitting on the edge of her seat wide-eyed, awaiting her answer. ‘Aye. But how …?’

  ‘Mother of God, I don’t believe it,’ Eliza whispered, whilst the older woman promptly burst into tears.

  ‘Who are youse? How do you know my mam?’

  ‘She were my neighbour; oh, the best friend a body could ask for,’ sobbed Minnie, holding tight to Eliza, who had hurried to comfort her.

  ‘That can’t be. She ain’t ever stepped foot in Manchester in her life; least not that I know of.’

  ‘It’s the truth. She dwelled right there, beyond yon bricks.’ Minnie pointed across to the adjoining wall. ‘She moved after Fred’s death, when you were but a babby, to be nearer to her brother in Bolton town.’

  Jewel’s mouth formed an O. Why hadn’t Mam ever told her they had lived here in this city? She’d assumed that the town she’d grown up in had always been her home. But if this was correct, and this woman and her mam had been such firm friends, why hadn’t they stayed in touch? It didn’t make sense.

  ‘How is she, lass, Flora?’ Tears still streamed down Minnie’s lined cheeks. ‘She’s well?’

  ‘Aye, yes. But, I don’t, don’t understand what’s … You clearly felt a lot for her, Mrs Maddox, so what occurred? Why did youse lose contact?’

  ‘I forgot about it, you see.’ Moaning softly, Minnie rocked back and fro. ‘I dressed thee and watched Flora carry thee home, but I’d forgot.’

  ‘Min, think about this you’re saying,’ Eliza told her, tone deep with warning.

  ‘I have thought, oh, have I! Long and hard, and round and round, for the past seventeen years. I vowed if I ever got the chance to put this to bed, to confess what I did, I would. They need to know.’

  ‘But Min—’

  ‘Nay, Eliza. I’ll speak it. I must.’

  Eliza made to protest further; then her shoulders sagged and she nodded. She and the old woman turned to Jewel with what could only be described as pure dread.

  Throughout the women’s war of wills, she’d simply gazed on in confusion, understanding nothing. Now, fingers of apprehension snaked down her spine. She lifted her brows hesitantly. ‘What is it tha must confess?’

  ‘I forgot about it,’ repeated Minnie. ‘I forgot about the birthmark on your shoulder.’

  Jewel’s hand strayed up involuntarily to the distinctive marking stamped there beneath her clothing. ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘Flora entrusted me to mind her child. And I did, barely took my eyes from her, but it were no good. She died anyway. No rhyme nor reason for it, as sometimes happens in life. So peaceful, she looked. So bonny, like a true angel. And I knew it, knew without question that Flora would wither and follow her to the grave with the grief. I believed it were for the best, that I were preventing a cruelty. I removed that dead babe’s clothing and I put it … I put it … on thee. And she looked at you, Flora, upon her return. She looked at you forra long minute and she took you home.

  ‘A child bearing a birthmark that shouldn’t have been there. A child she never questioned me about, not once. That she poured into all that love she had and more. Never a murmur from either of us. Just like it hadn’t happened. But it did. It did. And in t’ end, it came betwixt us, that deed. She left here needing to start afresh. Needed to flee the memories, the truth. Me. What I’d set in motion.

  ‘But I’m making it right; now I am. God’s sent you here. He saw, and He knows you must hear it. And now you have. I’m so sorry, so sorry, for everything.’

  ‘I’ll tell you a secret if you let me go.’

  Jewel’s head swayed in denial. ‘Nay.’

  ‘You can’t tell a soul I’ve told you, mind. You must keep it to yourself.’

  The memory of Benji’s lies, which she hadn’t given a single thought to since he first spewed them, were like knives in her brain. ‘You’re wrong.’

  ‘Your mam ain’t your mam.’

  Yes, she was. She was. ‘She is!’

  ‘It’s the truth. I’ve heard whispers of it over the years.’

  Everyone knew. All of them. All except her. ‘Mam. Mam. Mam!’

  ‘Where you going? Eeh, lass, wait. Please, just let Minnie finish the telling—’

  With a swipe of her arm, Jewel sent Eliza stumbling into the wall. Eyes glazed, step unsteady, she laid her daughter with the other babies on the bed and crossed the room.

  ‘But you must know, Jewel. Please. Sarah, she—’

  The slam of the door at her back extinguished Minnie’s voice. Jewel ground to a halt in the centre of the road, closed her eyes and drew in a long, slow breath. Then she turned and made off at a sprint for Victoria Station.

  Chapter 21

  JEWEL’S FEET GUIDED her from the train, the fare for which she’d paid with Sarah’s money, along the platform and out of the station into Trinity Street. For a full minute, she stood stock-still and, as Louise had done the day they arrived in Manchester, breathed in her own town’s smoggy air.

  The sky of late afternoon had dulled to sludgy mink and off-white clouds cloaked the mill chimneys in the distance. Once more, her feet set off, and she saw they were taking her towards Town Hall Square.

  When next she paused, she was at her mother’s front door. Again, she stood unmoving, staring at the paint-chipped wood, mind void of thought. Her hand raised itself to the handle but stopped before it could reach it. Her arm fell back to her side. She turned on her heel and walked away.

  Bolton Park seemed to offer a whispered greeting as she passed through it, and dim awareness sparked within her. Then, as quickly, it dissipated, leaving now-familiar emptiness. She sat on a hilly rise, tucked her skirts around her and folded her hands in her lap.

  Maria saw the procurer’s address in the article I answered – has she yet learned of Bickerstaff’s heinous crimes? Was the maid worried sick, been forced to tell someone? And what of Mrs Kirkwood: has she mentioned our meeting in Manchester to her brother? Has he passed on the information to Mam? Have my lies been exposed? Does everyone know my secret? These worries, amongst the rest, had tormented Jewel incessantly over the weeks. Now, she gave not one of them a single care. Nothing mattered. How could it now, given what she knew? How could anything mean a damn thing ever again?

  ‘Who am I?’ she asked of a tree’s swaying branches nearby. But, like herself, it didn’t have the answer.

  A moan broke from her and she tore up fistfuls of damp grass. Her whole life a lie? All of it? Who was her real mam, then? What of her father? Who was he? Did anyone know? Flora? Had Fred before he died? What about her uncle and aunt? They clearly knew she wasn’t of Flora’s flesh – how else had Benji discovered it otherwise? He had to have overheard it from them. Everyone she’d thought she knew, whispering about her throughout the years, discussing and judging and tittering at her sordid mess of a life. And not one – not one – with enough decency to tell her the truth. Apart from Benji. Him, of all people. The irony would be almost laughable if it wasn’t lacerating her heart to ribbons.

  So why was she here, instead of in Flora’s kitchen, demanding an explanation? She hadn’t an answer to this either. Nothing at all made the slightest bit of sense.

  Some time later – how long, Jewel couldn’t say, wasn’t aware of anything any more – a burst of giggles caught her attention. She turned her gaze to a cluster of bushes; beyond them, Maria and what must be her sister, given their likeness, walked arm in arm.

  Of course, it was Sunday. It should have occurred to her that the maid might be enjoying her day off here. Though her eyes creased to see her friend, she didn’t call out or go to her. It was like all life had been sucked from her; she could do nothing and felt even less.

  ‘Jewel? Nay, it can’t be her …’ Spotting her moments lat
er, Maria stared wide-eyed. ‘Well, bugger me, it is. Jewel, lass! Over here!’

  She tried to lift her hand in greeting but failed. Sighing, she watched the females hurry towards her.

  ‘Eeh, lass. What are you doing here? When did yer get back?’

  ‘I don’t recall.’ Jewel’s voice sounded queer to her own ears.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Studying her more closely and realising she wasn’t, the maid turned to her sister: ‘Lass, go on and wait for me by the gate. Look at me,’ she added quietly to Jewel when they were alone. She put a finger under her friend’s chin and brought her head around to face her. ‘Speak, lass. What’s occurred? The babby …?’

  ‘I gave birth to a girl.’ Jewel’s chest tightened in searing loss.

  ‘Was she born well, like?’

  ‘Aye. Perfect.’

  ‘’Ere!’ Maria exclaimed suddenly, grasping Jewel’s wrist, ‘I heard about that Bickerstaff one you went to. God above, who’d have thought it? What happened?’

  ‘I weren’t aware of owt whilst under her roof. Police came and I left with another lass. She put me up ’til I had the child.’

  The maid nodded. ‘I figured you would have found another procurer. But by hell …’ She shook her head. ‘I ain’t half been worried about thee, lass. I’ll be frank, I’ve been on t’ brink of calling to your mam’s for weeks and confessing what I knew, just didn’t know what to do upon hearing of Bickerstaff’s arrest. I didn’t, mind,’ she added quickly when Jewel turned to look at her. ‘Don’t fret, no one’s aware of owt. I figured I’d give thee a bit longer, see if you showed, and if not then it were time to come clean. Thanks be to God you’re here and you’re well.’

  Jewel looked away. ‘Ta for not telling,’ she offered, though, underneath, she really couldn’t have cared less. Not now. Not any more.

  ‘You found another procurer well enough, then, aye?’

  She swallowed hard at the memory of her meeting with Mrs Maddox earlier and all that had gone with it. ‘Aye.’

  ‘Eeh, lass.’ Maria covered her hand with hers. ‘Was it so hard, saying goodbye? To the babby, I mean.’

  ‘Aye,’ she whispered.

  ‘I am sorry, Jewel.’

  ‘So am I.’

  They were silent for a while until the maid asked, ‘Did your mam believe your tale, then? She weren’t suspicious at all?’

  A ball of something hard and clogging settled in Jewel’s guts. She shook her head. ‘I ain’t seen her yet.’

  ‘What? Why? Did you go straight to Mr Birch’s?’

  ‘Nay. I came straight here. I ain’t seen none of them.’

  ‘Right, what’s afoot?’ Though Maria spoke with concern, her tone was firm. ‘Come on, out with it. Summat’s to do here; you’re not yourself at all—’

  ‘My mam’s not my mam.’

  ‘Eh? What does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t know. I were told … told summat, and, well … Oh, Maria.’ She burst into tears and hugged her knees. ‘I don’t know what the hell is happening!’

  ‘Ay, come here. All right, now. Shh.’ The maid rocked her in her arms as one would a child. ‘Tell me, what’s all this you’ve heard?’

  With stops and starts, intermingled with gasping sobs, Jewel relayed Minnie’s confession. ‘I mean, what am I meant to do with this, Maria, you tell me that? My head, inside … It’s like it belongs to another. I don’t know who I am, don’t know what to think, to feel, to do—’

  ‘Shh. Eeh, Jewel love.’ But that’s all Maria had, not that Jewel blamed her – what on earth else could she say? That she was stunned by the revelation was clear to see. ‘I just, just don’t know what to say, like, I …’

  ‘Aye, me neither.’

  ‘Can’t you go and see your mam, ask her yourself?’

  ‘I don’t … I can’t. For what if she admits it and makes it real? She’s my own mam! Except what if she ain’t?’

  ‘Right, well.’ Maria thought for a moment then nodded. ‘If it were me, I’d do nowt.’

  ‘Aye?’

  Maria shrugged. ‘For the time being, at least. After all, what if this Maddox wench is lying? Lord knows why someone would about summat so awful, but well … You never know, do you? Takes all sorts to make a world – bleedin’ mad buggers as well as the rest of us.’

  ‘Nay. She knew too much, about me, Mam … Besides, what would she gain from it? It just don’t make sense.’

  And yet the more she thought about her friend’s advice, the better it sounded. She was dimly aware that she was being a coward not confronting this, but she couldn’t. God, give me strength, I just can’t bear it.

  ‘Happen I could sleep on it? What d’you reckon, Maria? Should I wait and see how my mind sits the morrow?’

  ‘If you think that’s best, then aye. Will you return to Mawdsley Street?’

  ‘If Mr Birch still wants me.’ Jewel bit her lip with thoughts of what he might know, had Mrs Kirkwood decided to get a message to him. ‘Has your sister mentioned … anything to thee, Maria?’ she asked cautiously. She couldn’t bear to admit even to her friend where she’d been and with whom. The depravity she’d lived with these past months, the things she’d witnessed … The shame of it was crippling. God above, if Maxwell should be aware …

  ‘Nay, she ain’t said nowt. Mind, he promised your position would be waiting for thee, didn’t he? My sister’s served the family well, lass, but I’m sure yon master shall be glad to have thee back.’

  ‘I ain’t half missed— erm, little Constance,’ Jewel corrected herself in time, her breathing quickening at what she’d almost blurted out. Though it was true in part: she did long to see the young miss. ‘Well, them all, really. I’ll be happy to be back, aye.’

  ‘Shall we walk back? Or d’you need more time to gather your thoughts? Just say the word, lass. I’m here whatever you decide.’

  ‘What did I do to deserve a friend like thee, eh?’ Though Jewel nudged her playfully, her lip wobbled and grateful tears glistened on her lashes. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  ‘Eeh, lass.’

  ‘Come on.’ Jewel rose and held out her hands, and when Maria placed hers into them helped her to her feet. ‘Let’s go.’

  And yet the nearer the three of them got to their destination, the worse Jewel’s pain grew. Being in such close proximity to Back Cheapside and her mother after so long apart was heart-wrenching. Not wanting to see her for fear of what she might learn was all that kept her from running the short distance at full pelt, though her longing to see the woman she loved with every part of her was nigh on impossible to suppress. By the time they reached Mawdsley Street, she was shaking and once more on the brink of tears. Before approaching the Birches’ door, she paused to suck in some deep breaths.

  ‘You certain you’re all right, Jewel?’ asked Maria gently.

  She nodded. ‘I’m a big girl with broad shoulders; I’ll be fine.’ She had to be, didn’t she?

  ‘Well, I’d best get back in, else my mistress will be having kittens.’

  ‘You go,’ Jewel told her. ‘And Maria? Eeh, I’ve missed thee.’

  The maid winked, flashed a grin then scuttled to her own residence across the road.

  Looking down at the girl beside her, Jewel pulled an apologetic face. ‘Thanks for covering my position whilst I’ve been … away. I am sorry to be leaving thee out of a job, lass.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, nay.’ Just like her sister in personality, it would seem, as well as looks, she gave a warm smile. ‘I knew the score afore you left, didn’t I, knew you’d be back, that it were but temporary?’

  Jewel smiled then peered towards the house. ‘Are the family home, do you know?’

  ‘Mr Roland were out when I left, but the young miss and their father should be present. ’Ere, I reckon Mr Birch shall be happy to see thee. He made mention of you regular in your absence.’

  Something fluttered in Jewel’s breast. ‘He did?’

  ‘Aye. Said as how he’d been sad
to see thee go. That you’re a fine servant – the best.’

  ‘Oh. Aye, yeah. Well, that were nice of him,’ she insisted, whilst inside, the small flare dimmed and died. With a soft sigh, she knocked at the door.

  ‘Hello.’ Clearly taken aback to see her, it was a few seconds before Maxwell spoke.

  ‘Hello, Mr Birch.’

  ‘You’re returned? Your relative has regained good health?’

  ‘Aye.’ She felt herself redden a little, and not just at the deception. Those eyes of his … She’d almost forgotten how arresting they were. ‘Aye, I’m back.’

  Still, he continued to stare at her, his lips slightly parted. Finally, he ran a hand through his dark hair and laughed quietly. ‘My apologies, Jewel. Please, come in.’

  ‘Hello there, Miss Constance. By, how you’ve grown!’

  The giggling youngster, who had come toddling down the hall to greet her, held out her arms. Picking her up and holding her close, tears pricked Jewel’s eyes. Oh, but it felt good to be back.

  ‘I’ll just collect my things, Mr Birch,’ announced Maria’s sister, smiling, as she headed for the kitchen. ‘And I just want to say thanks to thee for being a fair and pleasant master. I’ve enjoyed working here, really I have.’

  As Maxwell offered kind farewells to the girl, Jewel looked on with a smile, though inside, as much as she felt mean about it, she was willing her to make haste and leave. She just wanted things to go back to how they were, to be alone with the family, as she used to be. Normality was what she craved right now more than anything else.

  Some time later when her friend’s sister had gone and Constance had been taken to the nursery for a nap, Jewel headed downstairs to her haven. The familiar surroundings were like balm for the soul. She ran and threw herself on to the bed. Hugging the bedclothes, she closed her eyes, and for the first time allowed herself to think about her daughter. Crushing emotion slammed home. Her arms ached for the touch of her tiny, warm body, and her milk-heavy breasts, bound tightly as she’d seen Louise do to dry them up more quickly, throbbed with their need to sustain, to nurture.

  She hadn’t even said goodbye. So consumed had she been with the unfathomable news, she’d simply left the child and fled. Though if she thought about it, perhaps that had been for the best. For had she been forced to speak to her, to look into her baby’s perfect little face and tell her she was leaving her, she’d have faltered for certain, wouldn’t have been able to see it through. Then what would they have done? She’d have spoiled everything for the child.