Another Man's Child

by Anne Bennett

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it suited them to,’ Lady Annabel said. ‘Charles Timberlake is apparently a very influential man and extremely important to my father in business for the company needs his money to finance certain projects they are planning. Money and business is obviously more important to him than his own flesh and blood.’

  Celia was appalled by what Annabel had told her, which was so obviously true and which she was still so affected by. No wonder she saw her future as a black hole for even Celia could see no way forward after this. Maybe housekeeper to her brother was the best she could hope for and as for the future of the child … Annabel had finished her tale and asked Celia if she wanted to continue to be lady’s maid to her and Celia replied emphatically that she did.

  Both Celia and Annabel were very tired but Annabel explained to Celia that she couldn’t go to bed with her hair fastened up with kirby grips and it all had to be loosened and brushed one hundred times before plaiting it. Then Celia took out Annabel’s nightgown from the portmanteau and helped her into it and made sure she was tucked into bed before being free to get ready for bed herself.

  She was so bone-tired she was sure she would sleep easily. However, once she was alone Annabel’s words echoed in her head and she remembered how upset and agitated her young mistress had been in recounting the rape she had endured and felt such sympathy for her that, despite the fact that the bed in the little room adjoining Annabel’s was perfectly comfortable, sleep eluded her as she tossed and turned. She felt quite helpless to ease the circumstances of what had happened to Annabel in any way and resolved only to be as good a lady’s maid as she could be and maybe a measure of support for her young mistress if the occasion arose. Finally, as dawn was beginning to turn the sky a pearly grey, she fell into an uneasy doze.

  NINE

  The following morning Celia found that putting up Annabel’s hair was far easier that it had been on the boat and Annabel was delighted and said that Celia had the makings of a first-rate lady’s maid. Eventually, Annabel decided they were both fit to be seen and what a breakfast awaited them as they went down to the dining room. Both girls were hungry and tucked into a bowl of porridge with sugar and cream, followed by bacon and a fried egg followed by toast and marmalade and as much tea as they wanted. When she had finished, Celia sat back with a sigh and said, ‘I have never had a breakfast like that in the whole of my life.’

  Annabel, to whom such breakfasts were commonplace, was charmed by Celia’s evident delight and she smiled at her as she said, ‘I wonder if your brother fared as well in his lodgings?’

  Andy could have told her he did not. He had very little money left and had to eke it out till he could earn more and so he had looked for the cheapest place to spend the night. Eventually he shared a room with two Irish navvies, who stank of beer, tobacco and sweat and snored all night long so he was almost glad when it was light enough to get up. The navvies told him that the seaman’s mission did a good cheap breakfast and they were right for Andy found the porridge thick and filling, the bread and butter plentiful and the orange tea so strong he imagined you could stand the spoon up in it.

  But Andy didn’t linger over his breakfast for he didn’t know how far away the station was and the result of that was he arrived on the platform half an hour before he was due to meet the others. And that’s how he bumped into Seamus Docherty, one of the young men he used to meet at the dances in Donegal. He was delighted to see Andy and came over and shook him by the hand.

  ‘Long time no see,’ he said. ‘Thought you were at Fitzgerald’s place?’

  ‘I was,’ Andy said, hastily scanning the entrance to see if he could see Celia or Annabel. ‘I gave notice.’

  ‘Oh, so what you doing here?’ Seamus persisted. ‘In the station I mean.’

  Andy had to think fast. ‘Oh, I was acting as porter,’ he said. ‘Saw this family with loads of luggage and offered to give them a hand. They were very grateful.’

  ‘Grateful enough to tip you?’

  ‘Yeah and every little helps till I get a proper job.’

  ‘What you looking for?’

  ‘Thought I’d try me hand at the building,’ Andy said. ‘There seems a lot of Irishmen at it already.’

  ‘There are,’ Seamus agreed with a nod. ‘And that’s the point, isn’t it? I’d say it’s hard to get a job in the building. Anyway I thought you were set at the Fitzgeralds’ – and didn’t you have a thing going with Celia Mulligan?’

  ‘Just a bit of fun.’

  ‘Seemed pretty serious to me the way you were with her at the dances.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Andy said. ‘She took it in the same vein.’

  ‘Hope for your sake she did,’ Seamus said and added, ‘Women can be the very devil when a man tries to have a bit of fun that way.’

  ‘Celia knew the score and knew there was no future for us,’ Andy said. ‘And as for the Fitzgeralds, I just fancied a change. What about you? What brings you to Liverpool?’

  ‘My Uncle Phillip’s funeral,’ Seamus said. ‘Moved some years ago and dropped dead the other day of a heart attack and before that Dad said he’d never had a day’s illness in his life. He was the youngest brother so Daddy was nearly twenty years older than him but he’s getting a bit shaky on his feet these days so I came in his stead.’

  Andy was only giving half an ear to what Seamus was saying. Looking over his head to the entrance, he saw Annabel and Celia come in and said hastily to Seamus, ‘Well, it’s been lovely talking to you and give my regards to all those back home but I must be off now to do the tour of the building sites.’

  ‘Oh, I thought we might go for a pint together.’

  ‘No money for beer with no job.’

  ‘My treat. You’d do the same for me.’

  Andy was desperate to get rid of Seamus. Any minute Celia or Annabel would spot him and probably hail him and then the game would be up.

  ‘Sorry, Seamus. Another time maybe?’

  Seamus sensed Andy’s preoccupation though he had no idea what it was all about. ‘No likelihood of another time if you’ll be biding in England now.’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ Andy said. ‘And I’m really sorry but I really have to go now.’

  ‘All right. I’m not holding you,’ Seamus said a little huffily and he watched Andy hurry across the platform and he saw two women, who he hadn’t noticed before, turn as he passed, though he was some way away from them. One of them put up her hand as if to hail him and he gave a sharp, quick shake of the head and she dropped her arm, confused. Seamus moved closer and he saw clearly who it was. Celia Mulligan and she must have run away with Andy McCadden, the sly old fox.

  So intrigued was he that he slid behind a pillar for it was fairly obvious the tale about staying in Liverpool and looking for a job in the building was false. Andy McCadden and Celia and maybe the strange woman with them were bound further afield, for Andy had a bulging knapsack on his back and the two women were surrounded by cases.

  When Andy returned to the station, looking round him to check that Seamus had gone, the train was ready to pull out and Annabel said sharply, ‘You cut it fine.’

  ‘You did,’ Celia agreed. ‘And that was because you went running out of the station just minutes ago. Why did you do that?’

  Andy was busy loading everything onto the train and so he just said, ‘I’ll tell you when we are on our way.’

  Annabel had booked first-class seats for herself and Celia and Andy had booked third-class for himself and, as the train began to move forward, Celia said she would help Andy find his carriage because she sensed he wanted to talk to her. As they stepped into the corridor, Andy began telling her of his encounter with Seamus Docherty.

  ‘Didn’t he know what had happened?’ Celia said. ‘I would have said it would have been all around the county by now.’

  ‘It may well be,’ Andy said. ‘But Seamus was travelling to a funeral at the time. No doubt he will be fully informed when he returns.’


  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Shouldn’t think so,’ Andy said. ‘He didn’t catch sight of you, I don’t think.’

  ‘That’s why you didn’t want me to wave.’

  ‘Yes and why I didn’t approach you at all. I told Seamus I was staying on in Liverpool to look for a job in the building like many of the men I travelled over with.’

  ‘Did he believe you?’ Celia asked.

  ‘Think so,’ Andy said. ‘Why wouldn’t he believe me? And if anyone comes looking for me working on a building site in Liverpool they will come unstuck for I will probably be doing something completely different and living in Birmingham.’

  Celia let out a great sigh of relief. ‘Yes and no one has the least idea where we’re bound for.’

  As the train left the station with a clatter of wheels and picked up speed, Seamus stepped forward from the pillar he had hidden behind and remarked to a passing guard, ‘That train is in one almighty hurry. Where’s it bound for anyway?’

  ‘Oh that,’ the guard said. ‘Bound for New Street Station in Birmingham, that one. It’ll hit on a few more stations on the way but that’s where it will end up.’

  And Seamus smiled, knowing that when he made his way home later that day he would have a fine tale to tell to everyone back home in Donegal.

  The train journey was uneventful, but travel was such a novel experience to Celia that she was enjoying the views of the countryside flashing past the window. When the train had chugged through two small stations without stopping or even slowing down noticeably, though, she asked if the train was stopping anywhere before New Street in Birmingham.

  ‘We will stop at some of the bigger stations,’ Annabel said. ‘The first the train stops at after Liverpool is Chester and we will be coming to that very soon.’

  And when they did, Celia didn’t think it was that big at all. But the train didn’t pause long before it was off again and when it next stopped it was at a place called Crewe, which was much bigger and so many people were waiting to join the train and almost as many got off.

  ‘Busy station this,’ Annabel said. ‘It’s a sort of junction where people going some place other than Birmingham can change trains at, but we don’t have to do that.

  ‘Now,’ she said as the train started again, ‘it’s a fair distance to Stoke-on-Trent, which is the next stop, so what d’you say to fetching your brother and we’ll go on the dining car and have a bite to eat?’

  ‘They have a dining car on a train?’ Celia asked incredulously.

  Annabel gave her little tinkling laugh and said, ‘Of course they have.’

  There was no ‘of course’ about it, Celia thought as she lurched along the corridor to find her brother who was certainly agreeable to Annabel’s suggestion. He was feeling the journey to be a tedious one and he was feeling peckish and not sure what to do about it and so in minutes there they were in the doorway of the dining car, which looked like a very plush restaurant and, despite the sound of the wheels on the rails and the swaying motion, it was hard to believe they were on a train. There were pretty curtains at the windows and the tablecloths were pure white and lace trimmed and the upturned glasses sparkled and the silver cutlery gleamed. Celia and Andy were rather overawed by it, but Annabel took it in her stride and she stepped into the car and took the seat the waiter pulled out for her and took up the menu.

  Celia had never been in such a restaurant in her life, never mind have a man pull out a chair for her as if she was someone of importance, but she tried to follow Annabel’s lead though she felt awkward and she saw that Andy felt just as bad, totally out of his depth.

  ‘I never imagined there were places like this on a train,’ Celia whispered to Annabel.

  ‘Well how many trains have you been on?’

  ‘Oh not many,’ Celia admitted. ‘None at all until we decided to leave Ireland, but this is like a proper restaurant.’

  ‘It is a proper restaurant,’ Annabel said. ‘And can be very annoying when everything is sliding all over the place. Now what shall we have?’

  Neither Celia nor Andy could decide and so Annabel ordered tea and buttered crumpets. Celia and Andy had never tasted crumpets but found them delicious, especially spread with the delicious jam they brought too.

  Later, Andy sat alone in the railway carriage with nothing to do and remembered what the fellows on the boat had told him about the slump in England and that many of them had jobs on the buildings lined up.

  ‘A man came round the town looking for labourers,’ one had told him. ‘Tell you, he was spoilt for choice for lots of us had no jobs, you know? Anyway he came down the pub and spoke to us and engaged us all on the spot. All we had to do was get here and report to him.’

  ‘We were lucky,’ another said. ‘It’s damned hard to get set on unless you know someone, I was told.’

  Andy thought that what they intimated at was the truth because that morning as he’d made his way to the station he had seen groups of unemployed men lounging on street corners. There was no reason to suppose Birmingham was faring any better than Liverpool, whether it was the city of a thousand trades or not. He began to doubt the wisdom of leaving Ireland altogether when England seemed in as bad a shape or worse. They could have maybe tried Dublin. That was a good long way from Donegal.

  But they were here now and so had to make the best of it and he knew he could find it easier to face hardship if Celia was protected from it, so it was a damned good job Lady Annabel had taken such a shine to her.

  Celia too was realising her good fortune in meeting Lady Annabel and she felt rather protective of the young girl and thought it shocking that her family had taken the word of a visitor to their house over the daughter they had reared. She could only hope that her brother, Henry, who she set such store by, would not let her down too.

  Annabel seemed to have no doubts about Henry and told Celia how good, kind and generous he was as the train thundered on.

  ‘How far is it now?’ Celia said when there was a break in the conversation.

  ‘Not much further,’ Annabel said. ‘We’re pulling into Stoke now and it’s Wolverhampton next and from there Birmingham is no distance away.’

  And so it seemed and, as the train neared New Street Station, Annabel hugged her with excitement.

  ‘Soon I will see my beloved Henry,’ she explained to Celia. ‘And,’ she added with absolute confidence, ‘he will take care of everything.’

  Celia fervently hoped that he would and waited to meet him with trepidation. When the train eventually drew to a halt with a squeal of brakes and a hiss of steam, Celia, standing in the corridor, was both fascinated and nervous. She had thought Lime Street Station busy and she’d had plenty of time to look at it as they had waited impatiently for Andy to arrive, but she had never seen anything the size and scale of New Street.

  There was also a general cacophony of noise, the clatter of trains arriving at other platforms, the squeal of brakes and the odd ear-splitting screech from the hooters. As Andy joined them and they stood on the platform with their cases around them, Celia was aware of the announcer’s voice trying to break through the hubbub, but what she was trying to say was indecipherable, as was the voice of the newspaper seller, drowned out by the general noise. People were greeting others, talking, laughing and shouting and there was the steady tramp of feet as people made for the exits. None of this seemed to bother the porters who weaved apparently easily through the milling hordes, warning people to ‘Mind your backs please.’

  Andy was wondering if he should try and bag one of these porters to carry all their luggage to the taxi rank outside when suddenly on the platform, through the soot-laden steam that wafted in the air, appeared the most handsome man Celia had seen in the whole of her life. He was also the best dressed man. Back home in Ireland the men would wear suits for Mass, but many looked constrained and uncomfortable in the formal clothes. This man was at ease in his navy suit with the pristine white shirt, and his tie fastened with
a golden pin, matching the handkerchief in his top pocket and polished leather shoes on his feet.

  Annabel gave a small shriek. ‘Henry,’ she cried and leapt into his arms with a cry of delight and as his arms tightened around his sister, Celia caught the flash of gold cufflinks at his wrists. She realised that, though Henry might be all that Annabel had said he was – good and kind and generous – he had something else too and that was his air of authority, which he wore so easily. He was courteous enough and shook her hand very cordially when Annabel introduced them and Henry soon organised a porter and all the luggage was packed on a trolley ready to be pushed to a waiting taxi.

  Celia was astounded by the many shops that lined the streets as the taxi eased its way out of the station and into the city centre traffic and some of the shops were so big. Magee’s was the biggest shop in Donegal Town, not that she had ventured in there much for their mother had always said it was too expensive and not for the likes of them anyway, but some of these stores she passed in the taxi would dwarf Magee’s.

  The sheer volume of people thronging the pavements unnerved her a little, never mind the traffic, even when the city centre was left behind them. And then there were the clanking swaying monsters that ran on rails set into the road that Annabel told them were called trams and here and there cyclists dodged between the traffic. The road seemed too narrow for the amount of vehicles on it and yet everything kept moving.

  Here and there Annabel would point things out to Celia and Andy, like the big green clock that stood on an island on its own in a place called Aston Cross. Aston Cross had other things as well: a mass of shops lining both sides of the street and then a large building on one side that Annabel said was Ansell’s Brewery as they drove alongside it and, on the other side, a lot of small houses that looked squashed all together.