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The Child Left Behind

Page 15

by Gracie Hart


  ‘No, not at all, it is just a shock to see you. For a second or two, I didn’t recognise you. After all, it has been nearly thirteen years since we last met.’ William had aged. There was a sprinkling of grey in the hair she could see beneath the hat and he’d grown a moustache. But the high cheekbones were still there, giving him a debonair look.

  ‘Yes, that is why I’m here. I felt the need to apologise for my fearful conduct during out last meeting. I fear I was young and arrogant and should have known better.’ William looked into Mary-Anne’s eyes and he remembered the look of fear in them as she had told him no uncertain manner that his advances to her had not been welcome. ‘Anyway, it is late. Perhaps, if you have it in your heart to trust me, we could meet at a politer time and have tea together?’

  Mary-Anne couldn’t quite believe that the man she’d planned to catch was standing on her doorstep. He’d come to her without any need to plot and scheme.

  ‘Would you care to join me for tea now? The kettle is near to the boil. It’s not that late and I don’t retire until after eleven as a rule.’ Mary-Anne wondered for a fleeting moment whether she had done the right thing, however Ma Fletcher was there as a witness, and would to raise the alarm if she needed rescuing.

  ‘Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.’

  ‘No, please, do come in. You have taken the trouble to find me and apologise for the pasts misgivings. Let us start afresh and perhaps become friends. After all, your sister and mine are in business together, and your brother George is very sweet to my Victoria. We should be friends. After all, we are both more mature now and we can put our past misunderstandings behind us.’ Mary-Anne smiled at William as she guided him into the drawing room.

  ‘I thank you for your kindness and understanding. As you say, we may as well be related, Grace thinks so highly of your sister. As for George, I didn’t realise that he was friends with your daughter. I don’t have much to do with my younger brother, we are different in many ways.’ William looked around him. ‘You have a beautiful home. America must have been good to you. Grace told me that you are a widow, so perhaps I should re-phrase that and say that you have succeeded in wealth but perhaps not happiness, as the death of your husband must have been a shock, as you are very young to be a widow.’

  Mary-Anne remembered that she had told Grace that her husband was dead and felt a pang of guilt, wondering if she had brought on the death of John Vasey with her wishful thinking. In the last day or two, she had realised that for all their problems she had loved him and that her life was sadder without him in it.

  ‘Yes, I lost my husband, nothing could be done for him. Please do sit down and I will make us both a cup of tea.’ Mary-Anne did not want to dwell on the subject for fear that she would show the emotion that she had been feeling over the John’s death.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’ve upset you. Please don’t bother with the tea, I won’t stay. But would you meet me for luncheon? Say next Tuesday? I’ve some business to do in the centre of Leeds but Whitelocks Luncheon Bar, just off Briggate, is not out of my way and it serves some wonderful food.’

  ‘Yes, that would be lovely. I’ll look forward to it.’ Mary-Anne couldn’t believe how polite and agreeable William had become.

  ‘Until Tuesday, then.’ As Mary-Anne led William back through the house to the front door, he glimpsed the pulled curtain in the main room but did not comment on it.

  ‘Thank you. I will look forward to our meeting on Tuesday. Goodnight.’ Mary-Anne stood on the doorstep and watched William make his way into the dark night. Closing the door, she leaned against it for a moment, thinking of what she should do next.

  ‘Bloody hell, lass. If I could bottle what them men see in you, I’d make a bloody fortune. He’s played right into your hands and you didn’t have to lift a finger.’ Ma Fletcher shouted from behind her curtain.

  ‘He’s changed, he’s changed a lot. He’s quite a gentleman.’ Mary-Anne pulled the curtain back to see her landlady lying in her bed, wide awake and clearly enjoying her late-night eavesdropping.

  ‘Nay, he hasn’t, lass. A leopard never changes its spots. He’ll still be the bastard he always was. You take heed and look out for yourself. Dinner at the Luncheon Bar. That’ll cost him a pretty penny, you fill your boots and get what you can out of him.’ Ma Fletcher plumped her pillow up and closed her eyes.

  ‘That I will do, Ma, don’t you worry.’ Mary-Anne smiled and left her benefactor to sleep.

  Monday morning found Mary-Anne in a quiet state of panic as she waited for Victoria to visit her. Ma Fletcher was up, washed and dressed in one of her better dresses, and had been asked to watch her Ps and Qs when speaking to Victoria.

  ‘She’s no but your lass. She might share our good Queen’s name but that doesn’t mean I should curtsey and pull my forelock,’ Ma Fletcher moaned as Mary-Anne fussed around her.

  ‘No, but our Eliza has brought her up proper and I want her to know that we can have manners too.’ Mary-Anne twitched the net curtains aside, looking down the cobbled street to see if she could see her daughter.

  ‘Well, pinching her ball ticket won’t have helped you, let’s face it.’ Ma Fletcher huffed and sat back in her chair with the cat on her knee.

  ‘She might not have realised it is missing. Now, shush, she’s here. Remember: we have manners.’

  Mary-Anne breathed in deeply and smiled as she answered the door before her daughter even knocked on it.

  ‘Victoria, I saw you coming. Do come in, my darling. Ma Fletcher is waiting to see you and I have baked a cake. I do hope that you like caraway seed cake, it does have a certain taste, it is one of those that you either love or hate.’ Mary-Anne felt as if she was being inspected by her young daughter as she kissed her on the cheek and stepped into Ma Fletcher’s.

  ‘Caraway seed cake will be wonderful, Mother. But, you really should not have gone to the bother of making a cake.’ Victoria looked across at Ma Fletcher in her usual chair next to the fire and spotted the mangy cat that was upon her knee. ‘Good morning, I’m Victoria, Mrs Fletcher. Now I don’t know who this is?’ Victoria bent down and tickled the scraggy cat under his chin. He purred, enjoying the attention that he was being given.

  ‘This is Mr Tibbs. He seems to have taken a liking to you. He hasn’t got the time of day for most people so you are privileged.’ Ma Fletcher smiled at the beautiful young girl. ‘My, tha’s a bonny lass, you take after your mother. Your mother and aunt will have to fight men away from your door before long.’

  The young girl blushed, and removed her bonnet that was covered with delicate fabric violets the same colour as her long sweeping skirts. She sat down next to Ma Fletcher and put her bonnet on her knee.

  ‘I’ll take that.’ Mary-Anne took Victoria’s hat and gave a warning glance at Ma Fletcher and the cat upon her knee that Victoria was about to pick up. ‘Just be careful with that fleabag of a cat, he can be vicious.’

  ‘He’s not a fleabag mother, he’s beautiful.’ Victoria stroked the scraggy tabby cat and laughed as the cat purred and made bread with its paws on her skirts.

  ‘He’ll pull the threads in your skirts,’ Mary-Anne said sharply as she poured the tea and sliced the cake.

  ‘Leave her be, lass.’ Ma Fletcher looked fondly at the girl and the kindness that she was showing her cat. She was clearly the opposite of her father, which was a blessing.

  ‘You have a beautiful home,’ Victoria said, balancing both cat and a slice of cake on her knee.

  ‘You wouldn’t have said that a few weeks ago before your mother came and saved me. She’s worked hard, she always did, even when she was your age. I remember your Aunt Eliza and her coming to my stall when they were only little things, not much older than you. Even then they wanted better for themselves and now just look at your aunt. And your mother, with a bit of help from me, will soon be bettering herself.’ Ma Fletcher glanced up at Mary-Anne, hoping that she hadn’t said anything that she shouldn’t.

  Mary-Anne gave a warni
ng glance to Ma Fletcher. ‘I’m sure Victoria does not want to hear about when Eliza and I were young, they were hard times.’

  ‘Oh, but I do. I remember how Aunt Eliza used to work every hour of every day and I can just about remember going to the old shed along Aberford Road when we lived in Pit Lane when I was really young. So I know that things got better when Miss Ellershaw bought the shop on Boars Lane, and that we have to be thankful for how she helped us both.’ Victoria sipped her tea and ate her cake daintily.

  ‘That Grace Ellershaw will have made your aunt work hard if she’s anything like her father,’ Ma Fletcher spat.

  Mary-Anne scowled at Ma Fletcher. ‘Ma, she’s done well for Victoria and our Eliza. I owe her a lot. So don’t you belittle Grace.’ She smiled at her daughter. ‘She’s not like the rest. Victoria. Take no notice of Ma, she doesn’t even know her.’

  ‘All I can say is that she is always kind to me and my aunt. And the rest of them aren’t so bad either – George can be so thoughtful.’ Even though she had gone off George since she had spoken to John Vasey that day, she felt an urge to defend him. Victoria could tell that Ma Fletcher had a problem when it came to the Ellershaws.

  ‘I hope you are not sweet on him, are you? At your age? That would never do!’ Ma Fletcher looked hard at Victoria.

  ‘Ma!’ Mary-Anne placed her cup and saucer down hard onto the table.

  ‘He thinks too much of himself. But he’s a good man, and yes, I suppose I do like him …’ Victoria blushed and stroked the cat that was still on her knee. There was something about him that meant she couldn’t help but smile when she thought of him.

  ‘But you can’t let it ever go any further than that, lass. It would be so wrong!’ Ma Fletcher took Victoria’s hand.

  ‘I don’t understand, what are you saying?’ Victoria said, a quizzical look on her face.

  ‘Victoria, take no notice of Ma Fletcher, she sometimes gets confused.’ Mary-Anne glared at Ma Fletcher.

  ‘Nay lass, I don’t. It’s time the cards were laid upon the table and the truth was told before there’s any more harm done to you and yours. Don’t you see, he’s your half-brother, you can’t have them sorts of feelings for your brother. It isn’t right in the eyes of our Lord.’ Ma Fletcher whispered to Victoria and then looked up at Mary-Anne. ‘She needs to know else her heart would be broken due to yet another Ellershaw.’ Ma Fletcher sat back and looked at the anger on Mary-Anne’s face and the hurt and confusion on Victoria’s. ‘It’s best she knows before she gets any deeper into that George Ellershaw’s grip.’

  ‘It wasn’t your place to tell her, shut up.’ Mary-Anne snapped at Ma Fletcher. ‘Victoria, forget what you’ve just heard, Ma sometimes doesn’t realise what she is saying.’

  ‘I don’t understand. George is my brother? How can he be? That would mean his father is my father. So then, Edmund Ellershaw is my father?’ Victoria turned to look at her mother, tears in her eyes as she took in what she had just been told.

  ‘Oh, Victoria, I didn’t want you to find out this way. Ma Fletcher should never have said anything. I was going to tell you when you were old enough to understand and I had secured a better life for us both.’ Mary-Anne bent down, wrapping her arms around the trembling Victoria.

  ‘Grace and George Ellershaw’s father is my father? Is that why they show so much interest in my aunt and me? Do they show us both charity because of their father’s misdoings? If he’s their father, how can he be mine? He’s married and old and—’

  Victoria was hurt, so hurt. She had wanted to hear the news of her parentage from her mother and lived in hope that her father had been distinguished and of good standing in the community. Whereas Edmund Ellershaw might have some wealth and be the owner of the Rose Pit, but everyone talked about him because of his dissolute lifestyle.

  ‘Victoria, I love you. It doesn’t matter who your father is. I’m afraid to say that Edmund Ellershaw is your father through my own stupid mistake, but out of that mistake came you, and I love you dearly. Ma Fletcher should not have told you, she had no right; she is bitter and angry after Ellershaw brought heartache to her family too. As for George, Grace and even William, they have no idea that you are their half-sister. Eliza has always kept your parentage a secret, unlike this one here.’ Mary-Anne glared at now the regretful Ma Fletcher.

  ‘So, I’m a heartache, am I? Is that why you left me with Aunt Eliza? At least I can trust her, not like you and this old crone.’ Victoria reached for her bonnet and pushed past her mother, not even glancing at Ma Fletcher.

  ‘Aye, lass, I should have kept my big mouth shut. But I told you for your own good, you couldn’t ever give your heart to George Ellershaw.’ Ma Fletcher pulled her handkerchief from up her sleeve and dabbed her eyes.

  ‘I’d no intentions of losing my heart to George, we are just good friends. I’m far too young to even think of love yet and George would never be right for me anyway.’ Victoria snarled.

  ‘Victoria, let me explain. Stay and finish your tea and I’ll tell you everything you need to know. Please let’s not leave things when you are so upset,’ Mary-Anne pleaded.

  ‘Staying here would break my heart. I’m going back to the person who truly loves me. The one who has always been more of a mother to me than you will ever be. And you are right. I am better off not knowing my true father, no wonder you have never told me.’ Victoria opened the door and ran out into the busy street.

  Mary-Anne rushed out after her and pulled on her arm, urging her to return. ‘Victoria, please don’t think bad of me. I’d no choice. As you say, he was old and married and he took advantage of me. It was not my choice but then I found out that I was carrying you.’

  ‘Why should I believe you? I think what happened was that you lowered yourself to be paid for his attention, and no sooner did you give birth to me than you decided to abandon me with your sister in order to go halfway around the world with your next fancy man. And that poor devil was broken and hurt because of you, so much so that he turned to drink and drowned himself. I’m ashamed that you are my mother, you deserve to live with that scheming old crone in your witches’ coven because that is what you both are.’

  Victoria pulled away from her mother’s clutches, lifted her head up and walked down the street. An hour ago, she had walked up this street so glad to be visiting. Now she was walking down it with her heart broken and tears running down her face. She’d see what her aunt Eliza had to say about all she had learned. She knew Eliza would tell her the truth. She was the only one she could trust.

  ‘Why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut?’ Mary-Anne slammed the door behind her and stood with her hands on her hips in front of Ma Fletcher.

  ‘Aye lass, she had to know. What if George took advantage of her? Now, that would be a scandal, you’d be wishing that you’d have said something to her then.’ Ma Fletcher put her head down. Despite her words, she did feel guilty at spewing forth Victoria’s parentage without thinking about Mary-Anne’s feelings. ‘Get yourself down to Eliza’s because that is where she will have gone. Go and sit down with her and tell her how it was, she’ll understand once you both calm her down. Eliza will comfort her, after all, she has brought her up, and she’ll know how to get her to see the truth.’

  ‘I didn’t want her to know just yet. And the way you told her? I could have bloody swung for you.’ Mary-Anne reached for her shawl from behind the door. ‘I’ll go and find her, tell her everything and tell her no matter what I love her more than life itself.’ Mary-Anne held her shawl to her and nearly cried.

  ‘Now then, lass, don’t go soft on me. I’ll give Victoria her due, she’s got a temper and can stand her ground. Reminds me a lot of her mother, whether she knows it or not.’ Ma Fletcher smiled at Mary-Anne and called for her cat, who had decided to hide out of the way until peace had returned to its home.

  ‘No bloody wonder I have a temper. You deserve all the words that Satan himself could throw at you. You’ve broken my lass’s heart. You and your big
mouth.’ Mary-Anne looked daggers at Ma Fletcher.

  ‘You think you’ve got problems? Save your sympathies for Catherine Ellershaw. She’s got a bastard for a husband, another bastard in her eldest son, a sour-faced old maid as a daughter and I don’t like the sounds of that George either. Now that is a family you would not want to be related to.’ Ma Fletcher stroked Mr Tibbs.

  ‘You are beyond saving.’ Mary-Anne shook her head and made for the door to go and mend her relationship with her daughter. ‘Dinner may be late, so don’t you bloody well complain because this is all your doing and don’t you forget it.’

  ‘Victoria, what on earth is wrong?’ Eliza turned away from her latest fashion design and went across to her distraught niece who had entered the room like a hurricane, slamming the door after herself before sitting down and crying in the chair next to the window.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me make a fool of myself, going out to tea with George when all along you knew we were half-brother and sister?’ Victoria looked up at Eliza, her eyes red and swollen with tears. ‘Yes, I’ve found out that I am Edmund Ellershaw’s bastard child, the old hag who my so-called mother lives with told me.’ Victoria sobbed and flung her bonnet down onto the floor.

  Eliza bent down and held Victoria’s hands. ‘She’d no right to tell you that, it was for your mother to do. Why do you think I’ve kept it a secret all these years? It was because your mother was waiting for the right time. I don’t know what to say, my darling girl. I know that you will be upset by the news. Just what did Ma Fletcher tell you and where was your mother?’

  ‘My mother was there with me, she couldn’t stop her. It was as if Ma Fletcher was taking delight in being the one to tell me. Mother was angry with her but I could not stay another minute longer, I just wanted to flee. I will never be able to look at George and Grace in the same light again, and as for their father, I just don’t know what to say.’ Victoria trembled and sobbed.

 

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