Never one to shy away from a difficult subject, Emily asked, ‘Have you heard anything from Mick?’ Now that she had a child herself, she understood a mother’s heartache a little better.
Bess glanced away, but shook her head and murmured huskily, ‘Not a word. We don’t know if he’s alive or – or . . .’ She bit her lip and couldn’t continue.
‘We think he might have gone to London,’ Lizzie said. ‘You know, lost himself in the big city. We don’t want him to come back here, but Mam just wants to know if he’s all right.’
‘Whatever he’s done,’ Bess said, tentatively, ‘he’s still my boy.’ Tears filled her eyes.
‘I know,’ Emily said, as her own son nuzzled her breast and fed hungrily. She tried to imagine how she would feel if, in the years ahead, she was to be faced with the same anxiety and disappointment in Lewis.
Bess raised her head and met Emily’s gaze. ‘I was so proud of him, Emily, back then. I thought he was so clever with his wheeling and dealing. Oh, if I’d stopped to think about it, I would have realized that maybe now and again his dealings were a little bit – well, shady, but I never dreamed he was running a gang and was involved in extortion and threatening folks.’
Emily could see that the thoughts were haunting her. ‘It wasn’t your fault – or Lizzie’s. You must both try to move on and to build your lives without him because – I’m sorry to say it for your sakes – but I don’t think he will come back here. He’s still a wanted man.’
Bess nodded. ‘I know I should try – for Lizzie’s sake – but it’s so hard.’
‘I can understand that.’ Emily paused. ‘Are you working again?’
Bess shook her head. ‘Mr Farrell sacked me when he heard that Mick had taken little Lucy. Hardly anyone in the court is speaking to me – to us.’
From being the mainstay of the court, Bess was now ostracized by the people she had once helped so readily.
‘Is there any other work you can do, other than file-making?’
Bess shook her head. ‘Cleaning, washing, cooking, I suppose. That’s all I’ve ever done.’
‘Then I have a suggestion to make.’ Emily smiled. She had discussed the idea with Trip over breakfast and though he had been thoughtful for a few moments, in the end he’d agreed.
‘Would you like to come and be our housekeeper? You know that Flo’s sister’s been helping out, but she’s only a young girl and she wants to find work in a shop. You could do so much more for us than she can, Mrs Dugdale. I daren’t leave Lewis with her for a moment. Not because I don’t trust her,’ she added hastily, ‘but because she has no experience of babies. But I’d happily leave him in your care.’
Bess gaped at her. ‘You’d – you’d do that for me? For us? After all that’s happened?’
Emily shrugged. ‘Like I said, none of it was your fault. Everyone knows that.’
With some of her old vigour, Bess snorted derisively. ‘They don’t seem to think so round here.’
‘Then why don’t you move?’
‘I would, if I could find somewhere we could afford, but with only Lizzie’s wage . . . Don’t get me wrong, Emily. You’re very generous with what you pay her, but with me not able to find work anywhere, it comes very heavy on Lizzie.’
‘There’s a very nice little house not far from us on Cromwell Street which has come up for rent. It’s within easy walking distance for you – only about five streets away. You’d have further to go to work, Lizzie, but I can give you a lift most days,’ she added, glancing at her. Then she turned back to Bess. ‘I can speak to the owner, if you’d like, and see if he’s willing to let it to you.’
‘Do you know him? And would he accept us when he knows who we are?’ Her voice fell away.
Emily was smiling. ‘Oh, I think so. It’s where Steve used to live. It’s his house, but now, of course, he’s moved in with Nell.’
Bess’s mouth fell open. ‘You – you really think he’d let us have it? The mother and sister of his arch-enemy?’
Emily smiled and, with unusual conceit, said, ‘I think so – if I ask him.’
Twenty-One
Steve was quick to give his agreement. ‘We’re all trying to make a fresh start. Your Trip has been more than good to me – you all have – and I’ll set the rent at a modest amount. One they’ll be able to afford. Only one thing, I don’t want him back there.’
Emily shook her head. ‘I agree with you and, whilst poor Mrs Dugdale is heartbroken, they don’t want him back either. They want to try to move on and, like you say, build a new life and moving house will help.’
‘And Mrs Dugdale is going to look after Lewis, is she?’
‘Not all the time. The best way she can help me is to keep things right in the house. I can then concentrate on my son and the business.’
Steve nodded. ‘It sounds the best for everyone, though I don’t know what Billy Nicholson’ll say. I think things were progressing nicely between him and Lizzie – according to what Nell says, but if she moves away from the Court . . .’
Emily grinned. ‘Then he’ll have to invest in a bicycle.’
Steve threw back his head and laughed loudly. ‘D’you know something, Emily Trippet, you have an answer for everything.’
The following Sunday, with the help of Trip, Steve and even Billy, Bess and Lizzie moved into the terraced house only five streets away from Carr Road. Bess was ecstatic with her new home. ‘I’ve never had a backyard and a proper bathroom indoors.’
‘The privy’s still outside down the yard,’ Lizzie pointed out.
‘Best place for it,’ Bess said tartly, ‘but to think I don’t have to stand at the kitchen sink no more to get washed.’ She shook her head in wonderment. ‘And three bedrooms. One each for us, Lizzie, and a small one if Emily ever wants us to have the little feller to stay here overnight.’
‘It’s not much bigger than a cupboard, Mam, but, yes, you’re right. It’s a lovely little house. We’ll be happy here.’ Lizzie put her arms round her mother’s shoulders and leaned her cheek against Bess’s hair. ‘I know it’s hard, Mam, but we’ve got to move on. I hope he’s all right – I wouldn’t wish him any harm – but we’ve got our lives to live.’
Bess nodded, but she could not speak for the huge lump in her throat. She hoped Lizzie would be able to ‘move on’, as she put it. She was young and had her whole life in front of her, but Bess doubted she herself would ever be able to do so. Mick, for all his badness, was still her little boy. But silently she resolved to put on a brave face and, who knew, maybe some time in the future her act of coming to terms with it all might become a reality. She was determined to try. So many people were trying to help her and Lizzie – people she wouldn’t have expected to do so – and now it was up to her. Their moving to a lovely little house, into which the sun shone over the rooftops every morning, and Bess’s new job, were all thanks to Emily. She would spend the rest of her life, she promised herself, trying to repay that kindness.
Billy did indeed acquire a bicycle and he became a frequent visitor to the Dugdales’ new home.
‘Are you really walking out with him, Lizzie?’ Nell asked bluntly, as was her way. ‘Don’t keep the poor lad dangling any longer. He’s loved you for years, you know.’
Lizzie sighed. ‘I know and I’m very fond of him, it’s just that –’ She paused and bit her lip.
‘It’s not the grand passion that all us girls dream about, eh?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Not like Emily and Trip or you and Steve. D’you know, your eyes light up the minute they walk into a room? That’s the sort of love I want. I thought I’d found it with – with Josh Ryan, but . . .’
‘Lizzie luv, he was never yours. You know that, if you’re honest, and Emily tried to warn you from the start, didn’t she?’
Lizzie nodded again. ‘I know. I was a fool and I’m glad for him he’s happy.’ She smiled. ‘He’s got three children now, and he’s as happy as a pig in muck, to use her phrase.’
‘But
what about Billy?’ Nell persisted.
‘I’d miss him if he wasn’t there any more,’ Lizzie murmured.
‘There are different kinds of love, you know. They’re not always the stomach-churning kind. And he’s filled out lately,’ Nell said gently. ‘He’s not a skinny youth any more.’
Lizzie did give a great deal of thought to her relationship with Billy and realized that her life would indeed be empty without him. She hadn’t been thinking straight, what with being infatuated with Josh and then finding out that her brother, whom she loved dearly, was not what she thought he was, had hurt and disillusioned her. And she’d grown up with Billy, played in the street with him and seen him grow from being a scruffy little urchin into a man; a kind and caring one at that. So, when Billy at last plucked up the courage to ask her straight out to be his girl, Lizzie was able to smile and say ‘yes’.
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Nell said. ‘Now perhaps we can all get on with what work we’ve still got.’
One evening in late September, when the weather had turned decidedly autumnal, Emily was sitting contentedly by the range in the kitchen, giving Lewis his evening feed, when the back door burst open and Trip almost fell through it. He slammed it behind him, making the baby jump and begin to whimper.
‘I’m sorry, Emily, but I’ve had news from home. Father’s had another very serious stroke. He’s not expected to last the night. I must go at once.’
‘Oh Trip, I’m so sorry. Shall we come too? He might want to see Lewis before . . .’
Trip hesitated and murmured, ‘Yes, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. And I think I should pick up Belle and Richard too, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do. Just run round to Mrs Dugdale and tell her what’s happening while I get Lewis ready. She’ll see to everything here for us. And ask Lizzie to take a message to Nell to keep the soup kitchens going as well as things at work.’
‘Right – yes. I’ll do that.’ Trip seemed uncharacteristically flustered. He went out again and was gone for about half an hour, so that by the time he returned both Emily and the baby were ready and waiting.
She sat beside him in the front seat of his car with Lewis on her lap as they drove to the street where Belle still lived in the modest terraced house, which Arthur Trippet had bought for her many years earlier.
There was silence in the car as the four adults and the child travelled through the deepening dusk towards Ashford. No one knew what to say and when they arrived at Riversdale House, Belle and Richard hung back, as if they weren’t really sure of their welcome at such a time. But they need not have worried, Constance held out her arms to Belle and ushered her into the sitting room. ‘I’m so glad Thomas thought to bring both of you. I should have suggested it myself, but I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘How – how is he?’
‘Not good, my dear.’ Constance still held Belle’s hand. ‘You must be prepared for the worst. The doctor is still here with him, and Nurse Adams too, of course. We can go up, though perhaps not all at once.’
‘Thomas, Emily and the baby should go up first. Richard and I will wait.’
Constance nodded. ‘Very well, then.’
As they entered the bedroom, Emily held on tightly to Lewis, hoping he would not cry. But the sight of the man in the bed was a shock. From the big, blustering man Arthur Trippet had once been, he had shrunk to a thin, pathetic figure. He lay, propped up on pillows, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow.
‘Father?’ Trip approached the bedside.
Arthur’s eyelids flickered at the sound of his son’s voice and, it seemed with a supreme effort, he opened them. Trip took hold of his wrinkled hand and said softly, ‘We’ve brought your grandson to see you.’
Emily moved towards the bedside and propped the baby in front of him. Arthur’s eyes focussed on the child and there seemed to be a ghost of a smile. His hand trembled as if he was trying to reach out to Lewis, but the effort was too much and he closed his eyes with a sigh. The baby began to whimper and Emily picked him up, put him against her shoulder and walked to the far side of the room, patting his back to soothe him.
They stayed in the bedroom for ten minutes and then returned downstairs to allow Belle and Richard some time with Arthur. They, too, only stayed about ten minutes and when they returned downstairs Belle was in tears.
Constance put her arms around her. ‘There, there, my dear. Don’t grieve. He’s had a good life and you were a big part of that life.’ She smiled gently as she said candidly, ‘I think you brought him far more joy than ever I did.’
Belle wept against her shoulder. It was a strange situation that was not lost on any of them; the mistress being comforted by the wife.
‘I can’t believe how kind you’ve been to me and to Richard too,’ Belle sobbed. ‘You’re an amazing woman. Thank you.’
They all sat down and Polly brought in tea.
Just under an hour later, the doctor entered the sitting room to say that Arthur had passed away quite peacefully. ‘I think, once he had seen you all, he just let go.’
Belle looked towards Constance and bit her lip. It was obvious there was something she wanted to say.
‘What is it, my dear?’ Constance said gently.
‘May I – may I sit with him for a while?’
‘Of course. Do you want to be on your own?’
‘If – if you don’t mind?’
Constance nodded. No doubt there were things Belle wanted to whisper to him that she didn’t want anyone else to hear. She was not even asking to take Richard with her. Constance didn’t really feel the need to sit beside him again. She had spent many hours at his bedside since his first incapacitating stroke, talking and reading to him. She had done her duty by her husband and had done it well.
Twenty-Two
The funeral, held in Ashford’s church a week later, was not as well attended as might have been supposed for a man of Arthur’s standing. A few owners of factories in the city came to the village, but, though respected, Arthur had not been well liked. He had been seen as a ruthless man who, at one time, had even disowned his own son because Thomas would not bend to his father’s will. They had been reconciled later, but the older man’s action had not been forgotten. Several villagers attended, but not all by any means. He had never made himself part of the community.
‘Now, if it had been Mrs Trippet,’ they murmured to one another, ‘that’d’ve been a different matter. Church’d’ve been packed.’
Trip led his mother behind the coffin, followed by Belle and Richard. The Ryan family brought up the rear with George Bayes walking at the very back. The service and the burial in the windy churchyard were both brief and the mourners returned to a buffet at Riversdale House.
‘Constance, my dear, I’m sorry for your loss.’ George, a plate of food in one hand and a glass in the other, found her standing a little apart from the others.
Constance smiled. ‘Thank you, George. And I never really said how sorry I was to hear of Muriel’s death. It must have been a very hard time for you.’
‘You sent a sweet letter, Constance. I appreciated it.’
Their eyes met and held. There was so much to say, but now was neither the time nor the place.
Life settled back into a routine, but now there were other worries, which filled everyone’s minds. The miners’ strike continued and Emily did her best to help where she could. Miners’ wives now manned the kitchens, which Emily had set up, but it broke her heart to see the white-faced, thin little children with hardly the energy to play, and to watch the miners roaming the streets in search of some kind of paid work.
‘How long can they go on?’ she asked Trip, but he had no answer.
In November, the strike came to an end, but sadly it was not a victory for the miners, who were forced to accept longer working hours and a cut in their wages.
‘It’s diabolical,’ Emily stormed. ‘I wish we could employ them all.’
Christmas and New Year celebr
ations were a little subdued that year because of Arthur’s death, but Emily, Trip and Lewis spent the holiday in Ashford as usual. The small children, not quite understanding, were as lively and as boisterous as ever. Arthur had been ill for a long time and had been unable to take an active part in the life at Riversdale or in the running of the factory that had been his. Now that ownership had truly passed to Trip and Richard.
‘But where it’s all going to go, I don’t know,’ Trip said.
‘Things’ll get better soon, I’m sure,’ Emily said, trying to cheer him. Though he said very little, she wondered if his father’s death had affected Trip more than he cared to admit. Perhaps he was feeling guilty because they had not enjoyed a better relationship. But Arthur Trippet had been an overbearing, dictatorial man. It had been hard for anyone to feel close to him. Perhaps the only person who ever had was Belle Beauman. This year, however, Belle and Richard declined the invitation to Riversdale for Christmas.
‘I can understand why,’ said Constance as she read Belle’s letter. ‘Coming here would be difficult so soon after his death and she doesn’t want to put a damper on the festivities, because,’ she went on firmly, ‘we must keep going as normal for the children’s sake.’
And it was the children who did indeed keep things going. Harry, important in his role as the eldest in the family, kept Sarah amused and even helped out with the two growing babies. At seven months, both Lewis and Philip were sitting up and taking notice of everything that went on around them. Lewis was the more placid of the two and would stare in amazement at his cousin when Philip was fractious.
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