by Emma Hornby
‘Aye, you did. And you’ll give it back, or so help me that brat of yourn will cover the costs for the rest of her life.’
‘You what?’ Hands beginning to shake with white-hot rage, Jewel stepped closer. ‘That was your plan, was it? Snatching her from Mrs Maddox ’cause you think I stole that rotten brass?’ She looked to Sarah. ‘You – you’re in on this? Mother of God, how could you, given what you’ve learned—’
‘Lass, nay. I’ve played no part in this, I’ve not. She collected the child without my knowledge—!’
‘What you’ve learned?’ The woman turned narrowed eyes to her sister. ‘What’s she on about?’
‘I wanted to go and find thee in Bolton, had to explain … She wouldn’t let me leave, threatened to harm the child if I tried. Besides, I knew you don’t need nor want someone like me, I know, I just … I just had to see your face one more time. Oh, lass. Oh, I love thee, have allus loved thee.’
Jewel stared back through a film of tears. ‘Sarah …’
‘I couldn’t give thee what tha needed, had no choice—’
‘What’s going on?’ demanded her sister. ‘Well?’
‘Jewel, she … She’s the child I gave up all those years ago.’
‘Ay. Fancy that. So, you’re one of us, are yer?’
Jewel lifted her chin. ‘You’re nowt but a disgusting hussy. I’m nothing like thee, and neither is my daughter.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Nor, for that matter, is Sarah.’
‘Huh! That dried up owd slut? She’s had more pricks than a second-hand pincushion.’
Seeing shame colour Sarah’s face, anger and an odd sense of protectiveness brought blood rushing back to Jewel’s own. ‘She’s got one thing you ain’t, though: a heart. You … What I’ve witnessed with my two eyes … To sell the bodies of your own offspring like you did all those years without a shred of conscience? You’re the devil’s own daughter, you are.’
The woman was nonplussed. ‘Aye, well. They’ve gone, the pair, now, ain’t they?’
‘Not afore time.’
‘But you … you’re here, ain’t yer?’ Wiggling her eyebrows, she nodded. ‘And here you’ll stay – the infant along with you – until I get my money back.’
‘I’ve told thee, I didn’t take the—’
‘You’ll stop on here whether I have to tie the pair of youse to that bloody bed, and you’ll work your debt.’ Her eyes moved to the child. ‘Oh, yes. There’s fellas aplenty what will pay handsomely to be the first to take her innocence. Likes them young, some do, aye.’
‘You foul-tongued bitch!’ Springing forward, Jewel lunged at the woman – stopping short when metal flashed by her cheek. Gasping, her furious gaze flicked from the blade to the smirking face. In the next moment, her plait was grabbed and her head wrenched back. The cold point dug into her jaw and she closed her eyes.
‘You leave Jewel be!’ screamed Sarah.
‘Where’s my brass?’
Beads of perspiration had sprung at Jewel’s top lip, and her heart threatened to leap from her chest. After sending out a silent apology to the absconder – and a plea that the girl never returned, if this was what awaited her once the truth was out – she murmured, ‘Louise. She took it.’
‘Nay. She wouldn’t. It’s you—’
‘Didn’t I tell thee? You’d not believe me, would you, but look, see the honesty in her eyes. She speaks the truth. Louise has gone, and for good.’ Holding the child away from her sister, Sarah rose. Her voice was firm. ‘Now let Jewel go.’
‘The girl wouldn’t do that, not to me.’
‘Aye, ’cause you’re worthy of her loyalty, ain’t yer?’
The venom in Sarah’s tone had her sister glancing her way in surprise. It was clear she’d never known her to stand up to her; she was at a loss how to react.
‘All these years, I let you convince me I’d not survive without you. I needed you, yer said, for who else did I have? You’ve ruined me, aye, you have. But d’you know the worst of it? May the Lord forgive me, I’ve sat back like a bleedin’ coward and watched thee destroy them girls of yourn. But listen here. You’ll not do the same with these girls – my girls. I’ll tear your head from your neck for you if you so much as think to. By God, I will. Now, for the last time, let Jewel go.’
As though in a daze, the woman obeyed, and Jewel rushed to Sarah’s side.
‘Come on.’ Eyes never leaving her sister, Sarah guided Jewel to the door.
‘Please. I can’t be alone. I can’t!’
Sarah paused on the landing. ‘It’s what you deserve and more,’ she murmured over her shoulder. Then she put an arm around Jewel and they walked from the house without a backward glance.
Outside, Sarah looked down at the child in her arms. ‘This cherub, my granddaughter … And you,’ she added, lifting shining eyes to Jewel. ‘Always know I love you.’
Jewel could barely speak past the lump in her throat. ‘Sarah … I—’
‘Shh. It’s all right, lass. I understand. I’ll be all right.’ She handed the baby over, gave them each a last, lingering look and walked away.
Watching her retreating back, tears splashed to Jewel’s cheeks. She pictured Sarah doing this same thing seventeen years ago, appreciating only too well the strength it had taken. Now, however, must surely sear far more. To meet again the one for whom you never stopped caring, thinking about, yearning for with every fibre of your being, only to face the parting a second time? How did she bear it? Once more, she was putting her own wants, her own pain, aside for what she believed was the good of her child. Here, without doubt, was living proof that a mother’s love knows no bounds. Jewel knew that if she’d inherited just an ounce of Sarah’s fortitude she wouldn’t go far wrong.
The figure up ahead grew smaller. Deep in Jewel’s breast, the ache intensified.
Wait.
At the corner, Sarah paused. She made a movement with her head, as if to look back. Then, as though thinking better of it, she picked up her feet and continued on her way.
Wait, please.
When she’d disappeared from sight, Jewel released a soft breath. Then she was running, running, to catch her up:
‘Sarah! Sarah! Come back!’
Chapter 23
SHE UTTERED NOTHING when Jewel halted, panting from the exertion, in front of her. Nor did she have to; her eyes said it all.
‘I don’t want thee to go.’
A solitary tear rolled down Sarah’s cheek. She laughed brokenly.
‘Flora, the woman who raised me, will allus be my mam. But …’
‘But?’ whispered Sarah.
‘I’d like you in my life, an’ all. We both would, me and your granddaughter. If you’ll have us?’
‘Eeh, love. Oh, you don’t know what this means, my precious one,’ Sarah murmured into Jewel’s hair as she enveloped them both in a hug. ‘How much and for how long I’ve dreamed of this moment. I can scarcely believe it’s here.’
Jewel smiled softly. ‘You’ll come to Mrs Maddox’s? Meet Mam?’
Her joy visibly waned. ‘Happen she won’t want me around, though? Not that I could blame her, mind. As you said, she’s your mother, lass. Whilst I …’ Her eyes creased in shame. ‘Why would she – why would you – want someone such as me in your life? By God, the things you’ve witnessed in that room back there.’ Moaning, she dropped her chin to her chest. ‘I’m foul, I am. To have thee see … Oh, I can’t bear it.’
‘Sarah.’ Jewel took her elbow as she turned to flee. ‘I care naught for what’s gone afore. It’s now and all our tomorrows that matter. Please. Please come.’
Another long embrace and more tears later, they headed arm in arm for Kirby Street.
Flora needed no introductions; she seemed to sense instinctively who the woman with her daughter was. She glanced from one to the other in the doorway, and Jewel felt the foreboding emitting from her. Was Mam worried she’d lose her now Sarah was on the scene? Oh, Mam. Never, never.
‘All well?’ asked Minnie cautiously.
Jewel and Sarah looked at one another then smiled and nodded.
‘Eeh, well. Thanks be to God for it.’ Eliza patted Minnie’s shoulder in shared relief then beckoned them over. ‘Sit down, take a sup.’
Flicking her gaze to Flora, Sarah seemed hesitant. Jewel gave her a look of encouragement and, catching it, she perched on a chair. Holding the baby up with tears of pride shining from her eyes, Jewel then crossed to her mother.
‘Ay, lass.’ Taking her granddaughter into her arms, Flora was entranced. ‘By, would you look at her, the little angel. She’s your image at that age, Jewel, she is, really.’
‘Aye, she is,’ agreed Sarah, and lowered her head quickly when Flora glanced up. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean … What I meant were, it’s just—’
‘It’s all right, Sarah.’ Flora’s voice was soft. ‘All this … it’s hard for me, an’ all. But the fact remains: Jewel were your lass afore she came to me. You’ve memories of her same as I have. Don’t be ashamed or think yourself unworthy of holding them. What happened happened, and it ain’t for me nor no one else to judge thee on it. You’ve a right to know this lass, here, as much as me. You do, aye.’
It was like the sun had come out behind Sarah’s eyes; she exhaled what seemed like a lifetime of strife. ‘Mrs Nightingale, I—’
‘Call me Flora, lass.’
‘Flora. Eeh, I were dreading meeting thee. D’you know, I’ve wondered all these years what the woman who got my daughter might be like, and now …’ She paused to swallow back a sob. ‘Now I see you’re all I hoped for. You, Mrs Nightingale – Flora. You’re a proper mam, just as the lass needed – deserved. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to …’ Taking Flora’s hand, she pressed it to her lips and closed her eyes. ‘Thank you for being her mother and for raising her with love. Thank you for everything.’
There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. In silence, Jewel and the others looked on with sad smiles.
‘And thank you, lass.’ Flora’s voice was just as thick. ‘Thanks for the years you gave me with Jewel. There’s no ill feelings on my side, nay, and I’m heartened that tha feels the same with myself. Time to put the past behind us, now, eh? Whatever our lass decides is good enough for me.’
The two of them looked to Jewel for an answer, and she breathed deeply. For only now was the full enormity of all that had occurred over the last few days hitting her. Both of these women had a claim to her. Flora would, as she’d stated, always be her mam. Yet a firm bond had already formed with Sarah. Since the night on the top stair of the house in Canal Street, when she’d sat enjoying the cold pie and tea that the closed-off, kind-eyed stranger had given her, she’d felt it. Something. Some tie she hadn’t been able to fathom then.
But had Flora really spoken the truth? Would it honestly not pain her to have Sarah in their lives? To share her only child with a woman who, in effect, possessed a stronger link – that of blood – with her? Jewel wouldn’t have Mam upset, not for the world. Neither did she wish to hurt Sarah. What was she to do?
‘Look into your heart, lass.’
Minnie’s wisdom reached out to her across the table, as though she sensed her dilemma, and Jewel looked to her in grateful desperation.
‘The decision must be yours alone. These women here want only what you want, for your happiness is their happiness. You see?’
She did. She smiled and squeezed Flora’s and Sarah’s hands in turn. ‘I think … I need you both. I want you both in my life. If that’s all right?’
‘Ay, of course it is, love,’ Flora told her.
‘Oh, lass,’ cried Sarah softly.
Looking down at her own child, Jewel was struck with such overwhelming love it took her breath away. A feeling of completeness warmed her soul and she sent it out to encompass the others.
For the first time in a long time the future looked promising. And it felt wonderful.
*
On the train journey home, Jewel and her mother discussed what was to be done about Benji. Though Flora spoke in a hushed voice so that the other passengers wouldn’t overhear, her eyes couldn’t conceal her simmering rage.
‘I’ll break his face for him. And just let that mother of his try and deny it and, by, I’ll rip her limb from limb, an’ all.’
Jewel suppressed a sigh. Though understanding absolutely Mam’s feelings, this was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid: the family at war. But the truth was, the confrontation to come was not only unavoidable but necessary. The Powells had to know what had occurred – particularly now there was a visible child involved. Besides, Benji deserved punishment. Nevertheless, the knotting in her stomach only intensified with each passing mile that took them closer to Bolton, and the holy storm of upset she just knew awaited her.
Then there was the other issue that was slowly killing her inside.
Maxwell’s face struck in her mind and she winced at what it brought to her heart. Whatever brainless designs she’d had were unquestionably dashed for ever. When he discovered … and of course he must … He’d want nothing more to do with her.
Suddenly, her chin lifted. To hell with it. It had been daft dreamings and nothing more anyway. Besides, she had nothing to feel ashamed about. She’d begot this child here through no fault of her own. What’s more, she regretted nothing. Not now; how could she? Her daughter – her gift – was wanted. Never would she feel otherwise, never, and if others – the man she loved included – saw it differently, that was their problem. And by God, she’d tell them so, too.
‘When we arrive, you take yourself home and get the babby settled,’ Flora was saying now. ‘I’ll confront that lot at the shop.’
‘You didn’t mention Uncle Bernard.’ Jewel turned to face her. ‘You said as how Aunt Esther shall likely deny her son of wrongdoing, but not him. He’ll not doubt my word, then, you reckon?’
Flora’s eyes narrowed. ‘Just you leave it all to me.’
They lapsed into silence. The train hissed to a stop at Trinity Street Station and they set off on the short distance home, and still neither spoke. What was there to say, after all? Words aplenty would follow soon, all right, though none good. This day was to change everything. Once the Powells heard what Flora had to say, life as they knew it would never be the same, for any of them.
At their door, Jewel paused. ‘Happen I should come with thee, Mam—’
‘Nay. You and the child go on inside. I’ll sort it.’
Though ashamed at herself at not pressing her further, Jewel felt relief. Truth be told, the last thing she wanted was to be present when the details emerged. It would be like reliving it all again and besides, Esther’s insistence that it didn’t happen – for it was inevitable, wasn’t it? – she’d rather not see. The anger and pain of it would be too much. More so should Bernard, too, choose to deny it.
She watched her mother stride away across the cobbles. Then she closed the door quietly behind her. Entering the kitchen, a little of her misery faded. She peered around the familiar space with a quiet smile.
‘I can hardly believe you’re here, precious one,’ she whispered to her daughter, brushing her cheek against hers. ‘You’re home, my lass.’
Sarah, sitting contentedly by Minnie’s hearth, entered her imagination and, again, she smiled. Upon hearing that she’d finally broken free of her sister’s clutches, the old woman had insisted Sarah stop on with her and Eliza. Warmth, safety and true companionship were hers now, and not before time. Her demons, along with the drink, she could banish. Sarah deserved nothing less, and Jewel couldn’t have been more pleased for her. They had agreed earlier to regular visits, and both knew that nothing would stand in the way. They had been parted for too long but had a lifetime to make up for it.
After taking the baby upstairs to the bedroom, Jewel returned to the kitchen and made for the fire to brew some tea, desperate for the distraction. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts had switched to the drama surely play
ing out right now in the shop, and dread of the inevitable result returned to torment her. Wringing her hands as she waited for the kettle to boil, she almost leapt out of her skin when a knock came at the door.
She stared at it for a moment, picturing her aunt and uncle’s livid faces just waiting beyond, the smug Benji with them, and tried to muster up the strength to hold her nerve at the onslaught to come. A second rap sounded. She sucked in a deep breath and forced herself forward to answer it.
‘Jewel. Here you are.’
She stared dumbly at her visitor. This was the very last person she’d expected. ‘Sir.’
‘May I come in?’
‘Aye, yes.’ She held the door wide and, when Maxwell stepped inside, pointed to a chair. ‘Please, sit.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Sir, about me abandoning my duties this morning without a by-your-leave—’
‘I understand.’
Her speech dying, she frowned. ‘Tha does?’
‘Jewel …’ Stare fixed on his hands on the tabletop, Maxwell sighed. ‘I can only apologise for my behaviour yesterday. I assure you it will not happen again. Won’t you please consider coming back?’
He thought she’d abandoned her position because of the moment they had shared in the kitchen at Mawdsley Street. Oh, if only that were it …
‘Sir, you misunderstand.’ She nodded when he lifted his head in surprise. ‘The reason I left ain’t because of … what you think.’
‘But … I embarrassed you—’
‘Nay, sir, you didn’t,’ she cut in quietly.
‘I didn’t make matters between us so awkward that you felt you had no option but to leave?’
‘Nay.’ A thousand times, nay.
‘Then what?’
Slipping into the chair opposite his, she gave a brittle laugh. ‘What, you ask? Lord, where to start?’
‘I find the beginning is usually the best place.’
Despite her heartache, she couldn’t help but smile when he winked. ‘Oh, sir.’
‘Tell me. Please.’
‘I … have a child.’ What easier way was there of saying it? There wasn’t. Nor was there any point in dressing the facts up. It was what it was.
