A Mother's Dilemma

by Emma Hornby

  ‘We don’t know, can’t be certain—’

  ‘Aye, but there’s the tiniest chance, in’t there?’

  Maxwell lowered his gaze then dropped his head into his hand.

  ‘And that’s enough. It is.’

  ‘I know. I know.’

  Her voice matched his in devastation completely. ‘We’ve kissed.’

  ‘Jewel—’

  ‘You’ve known my breasts with your hands, your mouth …’

  ‘Jewel, please—’

  ‘I took you in my palm. You … You—’

  ‘Stop! Stop it!’ Grasping her by the shoulders, he shook her sobbing form. ‘Listen to me. We’ll drive ourselves mad dwelling on … things like that. Roland confirmed he used to visit those women, yes, but can’t recall them or their names, nor whether one had been called Sarah. Now, I know there’s perhaps the slightest possibility, but Jewel …’ He shook her again in desperation. ‘It mightn’t be so. It isn’t – can’t be – surely. I love you, God dammit!’

  ‘Don’t. Don’t utter those words. Not now.’

  ‘But I do. We do. We love each other.’

  She raised tortured eyes to his. Despite it all, her feelings for him, still as absolute, crashed in and she let out an agonised cry. She threw herself against his chest and he held her fiercely.

  ‘I can’t give you up, Jewel. God help me, I’d die without you.’

  Her head sprang up. Knowing what they shared in their pasts, what, like her, Maxwell had attempted when at his lowest ebb – what he might be capable of again – terror filled her. ‘Don’t say that. Please.’

  ‘Jewel …’

  She watched his face draw closer. Though her mind begged her to resist, her breaking heart spoke louder and she knew logic couldn’t win, not against something this strong. His lips brushed hers in the softest of kisses.

  ‘I love you,’ he breathed, and it reached to her very core. ‘Say you still feel the same for me.’

  There was no hesitation. ‘I do. I allus will. But …’

  He nodded. ‘I know.’

  This time, when she headed for the door, he didn’t stop her.

  She glanced back at him over her shoulder. Simultaneous tears made their lonely way down their cheeks. Dropping her head, she walked from the house.

  Chapter 25

  ‘YOU’VE SCARCELY TOUCHED your grub again. What’s to do with thee, at all?’

  Pushing away her plate, Jewel shrugged. ‘I’ve told thee, nowt.’

  ‘Well, it don’t favour it to me. Now come on, out with it,’ Flora said when her daughter’s bottom lip shook. ‘I’ll not take no for an answer this time, neither. I’m fair worried about thee, lass; you ain’t yourself.’

  ‘Oh, Mam.’

  ‘Speak to me. What is it?’

  The last few days had been true hell upon earth. Being separated from Maxwell – and the reason behind it – haunted and sickened her equally. Her thoughts were in disarray, totally at odds with each other. One moment, she was filled with horror at the prospect of their being related. The next, half mad with yearning, she was telling herself it didn’t matter and could be their secret, that no one need know, that they must be together. Then shame and self-disgust would return tenfold. And on, and on …

  Overriding everything was the crippling sense of loss, and there were times she genuinely believed she would die from the pain. She should have known it was too good to be true. Her, be happy? Huh! How often did that occur of late? That someone such as he had actually looked her way in the first place was too incredible to be real; she’d known it from the start. Why should this latest development have shocked her? Did she honestly think they – or, more to the point, she – would get a joyous ending?

  ‘Is it your Mr Birch? Has summat occurred betwixt the two of you?’

  ‘He’s not my Mr Birch.’

  Flora nodded as though she’d solved the mystery. ‘Youse crossed swords, then? Eeh, what are you like? All couples have their bickers, lass, especially in t’ beginning. You can’t let it spoil things, nay. You’ll learn as you go that to swallow your pride now and then will make forra quieter life, oh aye. Just so much as he thinks he’s in charge, you know?’ She chuckled knowingly. ‘Some men can be funny about that, like to think their womenfolk are the meeker half. In reality, mind, we know the truth!’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Lass?’

  Scraping back her chair, Jewel stood and shook her head. The tears never far away fell unchecked down her face. ‘It ain’t some daft bloody spat, Mam. Nor can it be rectified, not ever. It’s finished with; done afore it even began. And that’s that.’

  Flora’s frown melted. ‘Eeh, you’re a dramatic bugger. What, pray tell, can be so bad that you’d chuck aside a fine fella such as he? By, you were mad with love for him not a week past, and now this? Well? What is it, then, that’s gone and changed your mind?’

  ‘You really want to know, do you?’ Jewel’s breathing was ragged. ‘Have I to tell thee, aye?’

  ‘Go on, spit it out!’

  ‘His son might have had relations with Sarah. Aye,’ she choked when Flora’s mouth fell open. ‘The man I love, the man I had planned to wed, could just be my grandfather. That’s what, Mam.’

  The silence was deafening. Bar her wide eyes, Flora’s expression was blank. The seconds ticked by and, after a full minute, she still hadn’t spoken. Finally, Jewel threw her arms in the air:

  ‘Well, say summat. Owt.’

  ‘Lass …’

  ‘Now d’you see?’ Weeping softly, she dropped back into her seat. ‘Mam, what am I to do? How will I bear this? Lord knows I love that man with every part of me. And it’s wrong – foul – it is, I know, but … I want him!’

  ‘Lass. I don’t know … I …’

  ‘Nay, me neither. What is there to say, after all?’ Her tone softened at Flora’s clear distress. ‘I just feel I can’t let this be it, Mam. I can’t just let him go, not until I know for certain.’

  The other woman raised her gaze to hers slowly. ‘But how will you …?’

  ‘I’ll fetch Sarah here. I’ll take her to Mawdsley Street, and I’ll make Roland see her, and I’ll demand they try to remember. Surely one of them will – well, just know, when they come together?’

  Face corpse grey, her mother squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Oh, love.’

  ‘You see why I must find out, Mam, don’t you?’

  ‘I do,’ she mouthed.

  ‘I simply cannot give Maxwell up like this. Not without a fight. Being parted from him … I’ve never known agony like it.’ A heart-wrenching whimper escaped her. ‘Why can’t I be allowed to be happy, Mam, like others? Ain’t I worthy of it? What’s wrong with me? What did I do that was so bad that I’m to suffer like this? Tell me, Mam, please. Make me understand. Why does the Almighty hate me so?’

  ‘Don’t think those things. You, you’re the kindest most beautiful girl the sun ever shone on. What you’ve been dealt with, all of it … By, you don’t deserve this on top. Eeh, nay.’ Suddenly, Flora’s face cleared. It held a look Jewel had never seen before, something akin to defeat mixed with dull acceptance. ‘I must.’ She nodded. ‘I must.’ Dreamlike, she rose and headed for the door.

  ‘Where you going? Mam? Mam—’ But she took no heed; before Jewel had time to follow, her mother was gone.

  Jewel wandered to the drawer by the fire within which her daughter lay sleeping peacefully. Kneeling beside it, she gently traced a finger down the silken cheek.

  ‘Just you and me, lass,’ she murmured. ‘I thought I’d found thee a father, a proper one like you deserve, but it’s all ruined. I keep failing you, don’t I?’ A sob caught in her throat. ‘I vowed when I got you back to be better, that I’d give you a good life, that I could do it. Turns out it were daft talk, for everything’s worse now than I’d have believed it possible. I’m so sorry I keep getting it wrong. I just don’t know what to do, love.’

  Oblivious to its mother’s
anguish, the child slept on, and Jewel kissed her brow tenderly. Then she resumed her seat at the table to await Flora’s return.

  Where was she? Jewel wondered with increasing concern as the minutes wore on. Had she merely gone for a walk to help her process what she’d learned? Dear God, please don’t have gone to see Maxwell, she prayed fervently. The last thing she could cope with right now was him turning up here. For she knew she’d be unable to send him away. It would be impossible. One word, one look from him, and she’d fall right into his arms, she was in no doubt. And she couldn’t do that, couldn’t let her heart overrule her head, not in this.

  The slight possibility of who he was would be there always, and nothing could change that. Sarah must have had uncountable men over the years, and Roland was little better when it came to his exploits – no way would either be able to recall if the other was one of their experiences. Her plan to get them together and hopefully learn the truth had been a desperate, brainless notion. It was all she’d had, but it would never work. She simply had to face facts: the truth of her parentage wouldn’t ever be proven. She and Maxwell were no more.

  Another glance to the clock showed that twenty minutes had now elapsed. Jewel wiped her tears and went to the window. Still, there was no sign of her mother, and her worry intensified. She plucked down her shawl from the nail and threw it on. Then she crossed back to the fire to get the baby.

  Jewel was stooping over her, ready to pick her up, when the door opened behind her. ‘Mam,’ she said in relief, turning, ‘I were just about to come and look for thee – Oh. Hello.’

  The man in her mother’s company inclined his head. ‘Hello, lass.’

  Jewel hadn’t expected this; she lowered her gaze uncomfortably. Like Esther, Uncle Bernard hadn’t been near since the revelation of his son’s attack on her. Now, though Flora had insisted he and his wife took her word as truth, she didn’t know how to react.

  What was he even doing here? she asked herself. Why would Mam involve her brother in this? What at all good would this do?

  Flora heaved a sigh. ‘Jewel, love, sit down.’

  ‘But what—?’

  ‘Please,’ added Bernard. ‘Please just do as your mam asks.’

  Frowning, she obeyed. They joined her at the table.

  ‘How to say this …’

  ‘Mam?’ Jewel reached for her hand. ‘You’re trembling. What is it?’

  Rather than answer her, Flora turned instead to Bernard. ‘I can’t do it, lad. I can’t.’

  For a moment, he looked panic-stricken. Then his shoulders sagged and he nodded. ‘I should be the one to do the telling, anyroad.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Jewel glanced from one to the other with creeping dread. ‘What telling? What must I know?’

  Bernard swallowed hard. Then, avoiding her eye, he began to undo his waistcoat.

  ‘What’s this, Uncle Bernard? Mam, what’s he doing?’ she asked of them both. Neither offered an answer. She watched on in increasing confusion as he loosened his collar then unbuttoned his shirt. Finally, he raised his gaze to hers. To her great surprise, tears had filled his eyes. ‘What?’ she asked again. ‘Please, tell me!’

  Turning sideways in his seat, Bernard looked to Flora, who nodded. Then, slowly, he moved aside the material from his right shoulder.

  Jewel’s mouth fell agape at what he’d revealed. There, stamped in the same place as her own, was a coffee-coloured birthmark. It was like looking in a mirror. The shape and size were one and the same.

  ‘You see what this means, lass?’ murmured Flora.

  ‘Nay,’ was her honest reply; her mind was a whirl of shock.

  ‘There’s some say they ain’t hereditary, aye, but I’ve heard talk of it afore, of a parent passing such marks on to their offspring … What you believe about Mr Birch is wrong. Bernard here is your father.’

  ‘But he can’t be. He’s my uncle, he … How?’ she rasped.

  ‘It were after a ruckus one night with Esther. They hadn’t been wed long, were dwelling in Manchester close to me and Fred. Bernard stormed from home and got blind drunk in a nearby inn. There, he finished up finding comfort in the arms of a streetwalker, but thought no more of it the following day after making up with your aunt. They moved here to Bolton town not long after, and that were that. Or so he thought.’

  Shooting her brother a weary look, she continued. ‘I’d spotted the mark on your shoulder, lass, shortly after fetching thee home from Minnie’s, knew she’d switched my child with another and figured why. I also recognised it as being just like the one Bernard bore. When next I saw him, I pointed it out and told him of the facts concerning how you’d come to be at Minnie’s in the first place. He confessed to me his adultery, and the pair of us guessed what had happened. The woman he’d briefly known intimately, and the mam who had left you at Minnie’s, were the same person.’

  Jewel felt as though she was set in stone, could neither move nor speak, even if she’d wanted to.

  ‘Now you know the truth.’ Her mother took her limp hand and chafed it. ‘You, above all others, deserve some happiness. I couldn’t see thee lose the chance of having it through mistaken identity. Mr Birch’s son and you ain’t linked, nay. You’re free to be with the fella you love.’

  ‘We said no more secrets,’ Jewel whispered. ‘You swore to me there were nowt left to tell.’

  ‘I did. But, lass, I believed I were doing the right thing, never dreamed all this would come to light, that you’d get hurt … I didn’t want thee hurt! The time for full truths is now. I’m glad I’ve finally brought this whole sorry mess to light. Even if it means you hating me, disowning me for good … you had to know.’

  ‘Is Aunt Esther aware of who I am?’

  For the first time, Bernard spoke. ‘I confessed all to her when I realised who you were, lass.’

  ‘That’s why she’s allus been cold with me, in’t it? It’s all making sense. She’s never liked me, has she?’ Who could blame Esther for that? To have this – her – always there, tainting their marriage … Jewel couldn’t help but feel sorry for her now. ‘She resents I were ever born.’

  ‘But you were.’ He spoke quietly. ‘And I, for one, am glad of it. To watch thee grow over the years … It’s warmed my heart more than I can put words to, it has. I’m so proud of the fine woman you’ve become.’

  ‘Oh God. Oh nay!’ she exclaimed suddenly as another realisation slammed home. ‘Benji. What he did … And he’s …?’

  ‘Now you understand why I were more reluctant still to tell thee?’ croaked her mother.

  ‘Your lack of a proper response that night when I told you of Maxwell’s proposal … I know why, now. Your mind were too taken up with this nightmare to think of owt else properly, weren’t it?’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I’ve borne my brother’s child.’

  ‘Lass, lass …’

  Jewel shook her head as Flora and Bernard made to comfort her. ‘I need some air.’

  Outside, it was cold and raining, but she paid no heed. She wandered towards the square. Sitting on the town hall’s wide steps, she folded her arms around herself.

  She felt no anger. A dull throb of betrayal, perhaps, but nothing more. Nor was she surprised at this. For she understood. All these hidden secrets – and, to be fair, she herself had added enough of her own to the mix – were primarily to protect those they loved. That fact made it all a little easier to bear. Done with malicious intentions would have been unforgivable, but this was far off the mark. In each of their minds, they had thought they were doing what was best. That, she knew, she could live with. Were their birthmarks sheer coincidence? Was mere wishful thinking at play here? Surely not.

  Still, the shock had yet to abate, she realised this. Yet, in some way, the latest revelation was less shattering than others that had come before it. Though she would always hold Fred Nightingale dear, she couldn’t deny that Bernard being her father held some appeal. She had no recollection of the man
who would have brought her up had he lived, no warm memories to help ease the feeling of having missed out. Perhaps, after today, she’d get to experience something akin to a father’s love. If truth be told, hadn’t she always loved Bernard as a father anyway?

  Jewel’s next thought, however, had her biting her lip: would she feel differently towards her daughter, knowing the lad who had helped create her was a much closer relative than she’d thought? But then again, she reminded herself, that was no blame of the child’s. If she’d learned anything lately, it was that a body was blameless of its beginnings. Those were wrought by the actions of others; the matter was entirely out of your control.

  Despite everything, a small smile touched her lips. A few short months ago, she’d have been bunching her fists and spitting curses, ready to vent her fury over these changes on all and sundry. What had happened to her? You’ve grown up, girl, that’s what, her mind whispered, almost fondly. You’re able to see the world now and those in it for what it is – flawed, just like yourself. That doesn’t mean they, like you, deserve to suffer their mistakes for ever.

  She wasn’t perfect. She could be hot-headed at times, selfish even, for she was only human, after all. She was a mother now, had matured. Mostly, she was bone weary of all the upset.

  The decision was hers. Would she let the past go and look ahead to the bright future that was hers for the taking? Or would she cling on to grievances that wouldn’t change things or do anyone any good? Repudiate or forgive?

  She knew the answer immediately. She rose and headed back the way she had come.

  Instead of continuing for Back Cheapside, she found herself taking the few extra turnings to Mawdsley Street. The lightness in her breast remained all the way and, when she knocked at Maxwell’s door, a serene smile had joined it.

  ‘Jewel?’

  Her feelings for him, unquestionable and unrestrained, shone in her gaze. She held out her arms and he ran into them. He crushed her to him in a long-awaited embrace.

  ‘Oh, my darling …’