Another Man's Child

by Anne Bennett

  ‘Back to backs,’ Annabel said almost dismissively, but didn’t explain what ‘back to backs’ were. As they crossed over what Annabel called Salford Bridge, Celia caught a glimpse of water. ‘It’s the canals,’ Annabel told her when she mentioned this. ‘There is a big canal network here and when we’re over the bridge one branch of the canal will run alongside the lane.’

  Annabel was absolutely right. Once over the bridge the driver turned right and they were in the countryside and they bowled along now and then Celia saw the gleam of water.

  ‘We’re coming to Holly Lane soon,’ Henry suddenly told them both. ‘Look to your right as we pass and you’ll see a hump-back bridge that’s over the canal and Fort Dunlop is beyond that – where they make the tyres, you know?’ Celia did not know and wondered if Andy did, but she nodded knowledgably enough. The canal veered to the right after that and they turned into Holly Lane.

  ‘How much further?’ Celia asked.

  ‘Oh no distance now,’ Annabel said airily. ‘Henry’s house is on Grange Road and that leads off Holly Lane. We shall be there in minutes.’

  And they were. The taxi drew up before two ornate gates and, as the driver got out to open them, Celia noticed with slight amusement that there was a lion atop a pillar on either side. It was, however, a fine house of red brick and three stories high as Annabel had said, with a great many windows and chimneys and steps at the side that led down to a cellar and Celia wondered what a man on his own was doing living in such a large house with so many rooms. ‘Must rattle round like a pea in a drum,’ she thought as the taxi, with a splutter of gravel, drew up before the house where three marble steps led up to an oak studded door. Henry got out and began to pay the driver, and only Celia noticed the concerned frown between his eyes. She guessed he was more worried about his sister than he was showing at the moment and no wonder because whichever way you looked at it, Annabel was in one hell of a fix.

  Celia was right for Henry was thinking of his sister. He knew Timberlake, and he had never doubted her once in the letter she had sent him which had told him everything. He had no time for the man who appeared to possess no morals at all, because Annabel wasn’t the first girl Timberlake had raped, and yet Henry had never thought for one moment that he would sink to raping the daughter of a friend, especially when he was accepting hospitality from that friend.

  However, he also knew with a sinking heart that, even if he could get his parents to admit Annabel’s innocence in this, which he doubted, she would still have to bear the shame of having an illegitimate child. It was rare for a young woman of the privileged classes to find herself in such a dilemma as they were usually well protected from predatory men. If the unthinkable did happen then usually a worker on the estate would agree to rear the child for an agreed sum of money.

  He imagined that his father would be thinking along those lines once he knew that Annabel wasn’t being buried alive in the wilds of Ireland. With such arrangements in place, after the birth, Annabel could forget this distressing incident ever happened and get her life back on track. In the meantime though, she needed someone with her for he had a job to do and Celia McCadden would do as well as anyone, not least because his sister had taken to her and she didn’t take to everyone.

  They stepped into a large hall with black and white tiles on the floor and a sweeping staircase led up the carpeted stairs. As Henry had no staff, Andy helped him carry all the cases up the stairs and along the landing where Celia felt her feet sink into the carpet as she passed numerous doors, wondering what was behind them all. Annabel ran ahead for she had her own room in the house, chosen because of its size and because of the adjoining room where the governess used to sleep.

  ‘And now you can, dear Celia,’ she said.

  Celia glanced at Henry, for he might have had different ideas, but he said, ‘It would be better to be near Annabel if you don’t mind that, Celia. In case she needs you in the night, especially as her pregnancy progresses.’

  Mind? Celia thought as she had a peep in the room assigned to her. What was there to mind?

  Celia’s room was spacious. The large and ornate bed dominated the room although there was also a bank of wardrobes, two chests of drawers, a dressing table and a handsome desk. The room was also attractively decorated and there were gorgeous drapes at the large picture windows that overlooked the garden.

  ‘This is your room,’ Annabel said leading the way to it and wrinkling her nose as she said, ‘I’m afraid it’s not very big.’

  ‘Oh Lady Annabel,’ Celia cried, ‘I’ve never had a room of my own before and to be honest it’s like a little palace to me with the lovely thick carpet on the floor by the bed and the bed itself looks very welcoming and comfortable. And I won’t know myself with all the storage. I haven’t the clothes to nearly half fill the drawers in the chests, let alone the wardrobe and dressing table I have all to myself.’

  ‘So you’re happy with it then?’

  ‘Oh, Lady Annabel, much more than happy.’

  Andy was brought to see it at Annabel’s insistence, so he could see where his sister was going to sleep and Celia, busily unpacking Annabel’s clothes, could see that he was impressed.

  ‘Proper fell on your feet here, Celia,’ he hissed as he passed her and though she was unable to speak because Annabel was approaching, the beaming smile she cast him was answer enough.

  When everything was done Henry wondered what they should do for something to eat, for neither Andy nor Celia were dressed well enough to eat in the establishments he was used to and they would maybe feel awkward if he took them there and also they were weary from the travelling anyway. He had never told his mother for she would have been horrified how many times he had eaten fish and chips, introduced to it by fellow soldiers and even officers in the army. His mother thought such things common but then his mother had never lived a proper life and he thought fish and chips would be the best option for them that night anyway.

  So Henry said, ‘Now we have no cook, though I intend to remedy that as soon as possible, but for now how would you like me to go out and bring fish and chips in?’

  Annabel had never had fish and chips from a shop and such things were alien to Celia and Andy as well. But they were all hungry and prepared to eat anything and so they said that that would be fine for them and Henry set off to fetch them for he knew where the shop was and he didn’t want Andy getting lost.

  When Annabel told her that they would likely be wrapped in newspaper, Celia went into the kitchen to organise plates and then stood still in the doorway for she had never seen a kitchen so big. A scrubbed table stood in the middle of the room with chairs arranged around it and against the wall was a large range and above it on hooks were copper saucepans of every size and shelves ran from floor to ceiling on one side of the range and on the other was a series of drawers. The shelves were filled with crockery and all manner of cooking dishes and in one of the drawers Celia found cutlery. Annabel, who had followed her in, told her that the door to the left was a pantry but the shelves in there were woefully bare. By the time Henry came back the table was laid and the kettle was singing on the range.

  Celia was to find that fish and chips made a delicious meal and while she was eating it she asked Henry, ‘How is it that your house is so clean? I imagined at the very least a film of dust everywhere if not cobwebs festooning every nook and cranny.’

  ‘I employ an agency,’ Henry said with a smile. ‘There are plenty of small households like mine who don’t want to leave staff in the house, often for an indefinite period, and so an agency come in once or twice a week according to what you require and air the place and keep it clean. I sent them a letter cancelling their services when I knew when I was coming home.’

  ‘Well they’ve done a good job, I’d say,’ Celia said. ‘For the place is lovely and the beds made up too, I noticed. It must be nice to have the money to have your life made so comfortable.’

  ‘If they hadn’t done a good job then
I would complain and then people might lose their jobs,’ Henry said. ‘They wouldn’t risk that. And you have helped me too.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well first, I am very grateful for the way you looked after Annabel, especially when she was so sick on the boat,’ he said to Celia. ‘And now she’s here she has need of a lady’s maid and, as you have agreed to do that, it is one less thing to worry about and I’ll see that you don’t lose by it.’

  He knew he had to do something for Celia’s brother for he had seen his slight animosity and the man had obviously been in a fight of some sort. He knew plenty of Irishmen who were big drinkers and handy with their fists and he wanted neither type in his employ, but possibly Celia would not stay long without her brother. He spoke in an off-hand way, turning to him and saying, ‘As for you, a house this size always needs a handyman. You can do all the jobs that need doing and fill in where necessary and help keep the garden tidy and things like that.’

  Celia clapped her hands with glee, so happy and relieved that they had both found work so quickly and easily in a country where so many were unemployed.

  She was so happy that she was unaware that Andy hadn’t spoken, for he had no intention of being a lackey to some jumped-up Englishman. Henry represented everything that Andy hated and he had no intention of working for him, but he said nothing and Henry thought everything had been sorted out.

  Andy didn’t sleep much that night for he wrestled with his conscience and that kept sleep at bay. With Celia’s future secure he had to leave sooner rather than later when he still had a little money to tide him over for a wee while at least. He knew that Celia would be devastated if he was to just disappear and yet that’s what he must do.

  He felt more confident in leaving her now that Henry had arrived because, though he didn’t like the man, two girls alone were in need of male protection. Celia had told him Annabel had no intention of going home, telling him only that she’d had an awful row over a man her parents wanted her to marry that she didn’t care for and Andy accepted that.

  However, even as he decided he must leave, a little voice of reason advised him not to look a gift horse in the mouth. ‘Surely,’ it said, ‘any job is better than no job.’ He ignored that voice because in his mind’s eye he wanted to learn a trade so that when he married Celia in three years’ time he would be trained, or nearly so, and earning enough to support them both. And even if Celia were never allowed to go home again he would know he had done right by her.

  Andy had been housed in the basement and he was glad of this when he rose in the early hours with a heavy heart for he knew he would miss Celia as much as she would miss him. But trusting he was doing the right thing, the only thing, he packed his knapsack.

  He couldn’t just walk out of Celia’s life without leaving her some sort of note though. He hadn’t anything with him to write any sort of letter but in the dining room where they had eaten their fish and chips he had noticed a bureau set against the window and he made his way there on stockinged feet, carrying his boots in his hands. The desk dropped down when the bureau was opened and inside Andy found both paper, pens and envelopes. In his haste to sit and write the important letter he dropped one of the boots and it landed with a dull thud on the thick carpet and, though Andy waited a while and listened, he was fairly convinced the noise wasn’t loud enough to disturb anyone.

  It had woken someone though. Annabel’s room was above the dining room and she had been lying awake going over and over the night Timberlake raped her and she heard the thud of the boot hitting the floor at an hour when no one should be abroad. She crept to the door of Celia’s room but she was fast asleep. She thought of rousing Henry, but then she told herself it might be nothing and she decided to see for herself first and so she stole down the stairs silently and on bare feet.

  The dining room door was ajar and she pushed it open further to see Andy bent over the desk scribbling furiously. She watched as he signed the letter and then folded it and put it in an envelope which he sealed. He looked around the room, as if deciding where to put it, but when he strode from the room a little later Annabel, secreted under the stairs, saw he still had the letter in his hand as he made for the kitchen. Annabel followed and saw him slip the letter behind the clock on the mantelshelf above the hearth. He gave a heavy sigh and then he opened the door and was gone.

  Annabel was across the floor in minutes to retrieve the letter and stood holding it in her hand, wondering what to do with it. Andy had run out on his sister, that much was clear, and Celia would be bitterly upset. Any sister would be, because he had given no indication of what he had intended the night before. Annabel imagined the letter would explain it all. But what if that should further distress Celia? Had Annabel the right to find out? In her heart of hearts she knew she hadn’t and that it should be given unopened into Celia’s hand. Even knowing this, Annabel filled up the kettle and put in on the range.

  She was to find that steaming letters open isn’t as easy as people would have you believe in books and she scalded her hand in the steam and still the glue wasn’t that accommodating. She ripped the edge of the flap in her attempt to ease it up and so she knew Celia would know she had opened it. Thinking she might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb she stuck her finger in the hole she had made and sliced it open, withdrew the letter and as she read it her eyes opened wide with astonishment.

  My dear, darling Celia,

  I’m heartsick to leave you this way, my darling girl, but you seem set with the Lewishams and if you stay there, will have a guarantee of food to eat and a roof over your head and a wage, while I at present can offer you none of those things. I need to establish myself in some sort of job and find somewhere to live as well, so please bide there with patience, believing that we will be together very soon and then the future will be ours to savour. Never doubt my love for you. I am leaving you because I love you and I will be in touch again as soon as I am financially secure so thatI can care for you properly.

  Your ever loving Andy

  From the content of the letter Annabel knew Andy McCadden was not Celia’s brother, but her lover. That put matters on a different footing altogether for she knew then that any time Andy could come and take Celia away, he’d said so in the letter, and just at that moment her need for Celia was greater than his. Annabel had found few people to trust in her life. Henry was one and Celia another for, although she was of the servant class, she was the only female confidante Annabel had and so she decided it might be better if she didn’t see the letter.

  What to do with it was a problem because the fires had not been lit at the moment, nor the boiler, and Annabel knew she’d probably be unable to burn something in the range without being seen, so she took the letter to her room. There was a desk in her room very similar to the one her father had had in his library and it had a secret panel in it that had fascinated her as a child. She used to leave messages for herself in there. Henry knew this and so when he had been choosing bedroom furniture for the guest room to match the rosewood wardrobes that were already fitted in he bought a desk to please Annabel, as well as the chest of drawers and fancy dressing table. Annabel remembered how enchanted she had been by the desk but that had been when she was young, before the nightmare had begun.

  However, now she thought it would do to hide the letter in for now. The secret drawer was operated by a little lever at the very back and she felt around until her groping fingers found it and she pushed it to the right. There was a click and the front panel to the side of the main desk slid open just like her father’s used to and she put the letter inside the compartment. Then she pushed the lever to the left and it shut so completely that you would never guess that one side would open and she knew the letter would be safe there for the time being.

  She went back to bed but, though it was still very early, she was unable to sleep because she did feel guilty about hiding the letter. But she hardened her heart when she remembered the way Celia and Andy had deceived her
by saying they were brother and sister. And yet she knew by concealing the letter that she would cause Celia extreme pain, more pain than if Andy had really been her brother because she had obviously fled her home to be with him. She must have loved him very much, for she had put her reputation on the line and it would be in shreds if he left her without a word and Annabel knew that’s what Celia would think when she found him missing.

  Annabel wondered for a brief moment what she would do if Andy turned up as he’d said he would when he secured a job that could keep them both. However, she knew there were not many of those kind of jobs in Birmingham at that time so it might be an age before he returned for Celia. And by then she might have fallen out of love with him, especially if she thought he had let her down, and at any rate she might be too angry and distrustful of him to leave Annabel. Anyway, Annabel decided to cross that bridge when she came to it and when she heard Celia moving about in the next room she lay down and closed her eyes.

  ‘Good morning, Lady Annabel,’ Celia said as she crossed the room and pulled open the curtains.

  Annabel gave a sigh and rubbed her eyes sleepily as if she had just woken up as Celia went on, ‘It’s a lovely day, my lady, already sunny and warm. Makes you glad to be alive, a day like this.’

  ‘Are you always so cheerful at this hour, Celia?’

  Celia laughed. ‘I suppose I am, Lady Annabel. I know everyone’s not the same, but you get in the habit of rising early growing up on a farm so you sort of get used to it.’ She looked at the clock and thought that her father and brothers would have the cows milked by now and the byre washed out and be sitting down to their breakfast porridge. She nearly said this. But then she realised in time the lies she had told Annabel that she had to continue with and she had a sudden longing to see Andy, for just to see him would still any doubts she might have and he always was optimistic about the future. And if they should be alone and he could put his arms around her, that would be even better.