The Girl on the Doorstep: from the bestselling author of The Workhouse Children (A Black Country Novel)

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  Rosie’s thoughts then moved to her ‘reading’ with Frank. She had told him some of what she’d seen – but not all. The rest he would have to face when the time came.

  Frank had been surprised to learn Rosie could not see him taking a wife in the near future. He was however delighted to be told he would spend the rest of his life on the canals. He was warned of great unrest in the family, but all would be settled by a strong character.

  John had taken fright at the prediction for his brother and refused to be ‘read’. He had steadfastly said he didn’t want to know what his future held. He maintained he would make his own decisions and tread the path he chose.

  Rosie smiled into the flames licking around the coal nuggets. She admired the young man’s convictions and how he’d ignored the jibes from his twin brother.

  Then her mind settled on their father. Bill was never far from her thoughts and she wished he would call on her more often. Like Lucy, she was in love with a man she felt sure she could never have.

  Damping down the fire, Rosie went quietly to bed. As she lay in the darkness listening to Lucy breaking her heart in the next room, she determined to be having very strong words with Jake Harding the next time she saw him.

  Thirty-five

  As the weeks passed and Christmas approached, the weather turned colder. Wrapped warmly, Margy had left her husband to see to the unloading of the boat while she made a quick visit to Rosie.

  Walking through the fog Margy pulled her shawl close about her ears. Her mind was on her grandsons and the chaos Lucy Richards appeared to be causing between them. Margy made sure she called in as often as possible, so they could exchange news and leave messages for Bill and the boys.

  Young Lucy, she noticed, made herself scarce when she visited, going next door to spend time with the constantly bickering Fanny and Molly. Clearly she couldn’t face Margy knowing she was the cause of the problem in the Mitchell family. Or was there more to it than that? Margy had asked, but Rosie would not be drawn on the drastic change that had come over Lucy these last weeks. Whatever it was, the girl was very unhappy, so much so she had all but given up her sketching.

  Rosie welcomed her in her usual manner of a hug and offering tea and cake.

  ‘Lucy gone next door again?’ Margy asked.

  ‘Yes, Fanny and Molly’s arguments seem to be the only thing that she’s interested in,’ Rosie replied.

  ‘What’s going on with ’er Rosie?’

  Rosie pursed her lips and sighed loudly. ‘If I tell you Margy, you have to keep it to yourself. Lucy wouldn’t be at all happy to know I’m discussing her business.’

  Margy nodded and listened as Rosie explained that Lucy had fallen for Jake the gypsy, but he had rebuffed her. It had broken her heart and she cried constantly for the man who had now left Birmingham. The fact that Lucy had willingly lain with him she kept to herself.

  ‘Christ! What a mess this is. Lucy loves Jake, he loves somebody else. The twins have a thing for Lucy but she ain’t interested in either of ’em!’ Margy said on a breath.

  ‘Life is never simple,’ Rosie mumbled.

  ‘You ain’t kidding. Then there’s you and our Bill,’ Margy said folding her arms beneath her bosom.

  ‘Bill is happy on the water with his sons, he has no time for me.’

  ‘It’s early days yet gel, give ’im time and he’ll come to ’is senses. He cares for you – ’e just don’t realise it yet.’ Margy patted her friend’s arm.

  Rosie shuddered at the touch.

  ‘You gonna tell me what that was?’ Margy asked having seen the shiver take the girl.

  Hands held and eyes closed Rosie began. ‘Great upset – Sarah – Frank. There will be a lot of argument and discussion before it’s cleared up. John will surprise everyone – but Frank will shock. There will be tears and worry, you must be prepared – Abner is your rock.’

  Rosie let go of Margy’s hand and looked at her friend.

  ‘I guessed as much. That bloody Sarah ’as been quiet for a long while; it’s only a matter of time before her starts meddlin’ agen. As for the lads, their dad will ’ave to deal with them.’ Margy shook her head in despair.

  ‘I’m sorry, Margy, I wish it was better news for you.’

  ‘It ain’t your fault, lovey, so don’t you be worryin’ yerself. Whatever comes – we’ll face it ’ead on,’ Margy said looking far more confident than she felt.

  An hour later Rosie waved Margy off and watched as she disappeared into the fog. A moment later, Lucy came in through the back door.

  ‘How are the warring women next door?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘Same as ever,’ Lucy replied as she plonked herself down in the chair by the fire.

  Rosie made fresh tea thinking Lucy never smiled anymore. She was sullen and withdrawn and she spoke with clipped sentences. Gone was the lively, excitable girl of a couple of months ago, to be replaced by a miserable person with no interest in anything.

  ‘Lucy, I know it’s not easy, but you have to move on with your life. You can’t go on like this!’ Rosie was very concerned.

  ‘Leave it alone, Rosie – please. I can’t forget Jake no matter ’ow much I try.’

  ‘You drink your tea, I’m popping next door. I haven’t seen Fanny for a couple of days.’ Rosie grabbed her shawl from the nail hammered into the back door. She saw Lucy nod as she left.

  Ensconced in a comfy chair by Fanny’s roaring fire, Rosie discussed their young friend.

  ‘I don’t know what else to do, she’s just so – unhappy!’

  ‘Ain’t much you can do, best to let ’er get on with it,’ Molly put in.

  ‘You mind yer own business,’ Fanny retorted.

  ‘I was only sayin’—’

  ‘Well don’t!’ Fanny snapped. Then turning back to Rosie, she asked, ‘Is there any way to find them gypsies? Maybe if that Jake knowed the misery he’d left be’ind, ’e might be able to snap ’er out of it.’

  ‘I have no idea where they went. Besides, I doubt very much whether Jake would care, but I tell you this – the next time I see him, he’ll get the sharp edge of my tongue!’

  Rosie felt the tension lift from her as she listened to the two women disagree over everything that was said. She smiled as she realised having once been arch enemies, they had now become friends – albeit feuding.

  ‘We’m havin’ a bit of roe on toast for dinner if yer fancy some?’ Fanny asked.

  Rosie shook her head as Molly jumped in. ‘I don’t like roe.’

  ‘You ate it last week.’ Fanny rounded on her.

  ‘Ar well, it ain’t to say I liked it though,’ Molly huffed.

  ‘It’s roe or nuthin’ so yer can please yerself!’ Fanny snapped as she rose from her chair.

  Only last week Rosie had watched as the flame-haired Molly had laid the fire ready for lighting. After making tea, Fanny had taken up the fire tongues and turned each piece of coal, thereby reaffirming her ownership of the house and its contents – including the fire.

  Rosie left them to it and slipped in through her own back door. She saw Lucy exactly as she had left her, staring into the fire.

  Over in Bilston, Bill and the boys had moored up and were walking down the towpath towards the town.

  ‘Look at that, Dad, another death on the “cut”,’ John said pointing to a boat called ‘Gypsy Dancer’ which was covered in posies of flowers.

  They stopped to pay their respects to a young man standing on deck. The man waved his thanks as he sipped a glass of beer. He was short and slim but without the huge muscles usually associated with working on the canal. His hair was fair and long and fell over his green eyes.

  ‘We’re sorry for your loss,’ Bill called up.

  ‘Ta,’ the young man said as he jumped down to where the Mitchells were standing. Shaking hands, he introduced himself. ‘I’m Henry Jenkins but most people call be Tad on account of I’m always a tad late!’

  Bill introduced the twins and himself before asking about
the deceased.

  ‘My dad. He was very old – ’ad me late in life. Buried ’im yesterday. My mum passed some years ago, so it’s just me now.’

  ‘How will you manage the boat on your own?’ John asked.

  ‘No idea, but I’ll ’ave to try, otherwise I’ll get the sack. Boss man won’t be ’appy if ’is boat ain’t running,’ Tad said as a matter of fact.

  Frank had not spoken a word, he merely stared at the green eyed handsome young man who was not much older than himself. He was trying to understand why his heart was beating out of his chest and his hands were clammy. His mouth was dry, and he tried desperately to clear his constricted throat.

  Tad’s eyes moved to him and smiled. Frank thought he would pass out as he blushed to the roots of his hair. He coughed trying to cover his embarrassment.

  ‘Sounds like you’m parched, come aboard and share a beer,’ Tad offered.

  ‘Thank you kindly but we must be off. John is going to visit his mother and I have a backload to find,’ Bill said.

  ‘What about you, Frank, fancy a beer ‘til they come back?’

  Frank looked to his father for permission and at his nod croaked, ‘Yes, thanks.’

  Father and son went on their way and Frank and Tad climbed back on deck. Tad poured his guest a glass of ale and they sat on deck talking. Before long they had shared the bare bones of their life stories and were laughing together in complete comfort with each other.

  ‘You got a lass waiting for yer somewhere?’ Tad asked.

  Frank shook his head. ‘You?’

  ‘Nah, I ain’t interested,’ Tad laughed.

  Frank’s eyebrows raised in question.

  ‘My interests lie elsewhere,’ Tad whispered as he tapped Frank’s knee.

  The jolt that shot through Frank’s body shocked him to his core. It was like being struck by lightning. His pulse raced, and his breathing was quick and shallow. What was happening to him? He’d never felt this way before and he didn’t know how to deal with it. Could this be what people called love? Surely not – Tad was a boy! How could he have feelings for another young man? But there was no disputing he was having feelings; excitement, joy, happiness – all fused together with doubt and incomprehension.

  All too soon their time together came to an end as Bill returned. It took all of Frank’s strength to tear himself away, but he managed, knowing he needed to be alone. His feelings for this young stranger had hit him like a poleaxe. How could this be? He was supposed to feel this way about girls, not other men! He’d thought he liked Lucy Richards and he did, but now realised it was just a friendship.

  That evening his mind was consumed with all that had happened. How would his family feel if they discovered he was a…? He didn’t even know the term for it.

  Frank didn’t sleep at all that night, instead he tried to rationalise the melange of feelings threatening to swamp him. He wanted to understand how this had happened to him. Was John going through the same thing? No, clearly his brother’s heart belonged to Lucy. Why then, was it just him? Was there something wrong with him? Who could he ask? He needed someone to confide in – maybe Rosie could help him. He certainly couldn’t talk to his family for he felt sure they would never understand what he was going through. He also felt panic take hold when he realised they would be moving on the following morning. He might never see Tad Jenkins again!

  Thirty-six

  Whilst Frank had been spending a happy afternoon on the ‘Gypsy Dancer’ with Tad, John had hurried over to Daventry House to see his mother.

  Dora, the scullion, had let him in through the servants’ entrance and was fawning all over him as Mrs Poole provided sandwiches and tea.

  John and Sarah strolled to sit on the bench in the arbour at the end of the garden where they would not be seen by prying eyes. The pervading fog helping to keep their liaison secret from the mistress of the house.

  ‘So?’ Sarah asked at length.

  John shook his head.

  ‘Come on, now, I’m your mother and I know when something’s bothering you.’

  ‘It’s Lucy. Something has happened cos she’s never around when we visit. Rosie won’t tell me and I’m worried to death, Mum!’ John let forth his anguish.

  ‘Maybe she’s out sketching when you call in,’ Sarah said trying to placate her son.

  ‘No, her things are there. I think she’s trying to avoid us but I don’t know why. I’m sure if I could just talk to her…’ John’s words trailed off.

  ‘Then that’s what you must do. You must go to visit and stay put until you see her, then you’ll find out what the problem is.’ Sarah gave her boy a quick hug.

  John nodded. ‘Next time were in Birmingham that’s what I’ll do. Thanks, Mum, you’re the only one who understands.’

  ‘Don’t let your father put you off either. Stick to your guns lad and tell this Lucy how you feel about her.’

  ‘I will, Mum, I will.’

  *

  Jake too had his mind on Lucy. The kumpania had camped in Bilston near the canal and it was Queenie who came to him as she had once before.

  ‘You can be a bad bugger, Jake Harding, but you’ve done right by that young girl,’ she said as she sat next to him and stared into his small campfire.

  ‘I should have…’ he began.

  ‘You should, but you didn’t. Instead you let her stay and then look what happened. That kid is wasting away because of you, lad, and I see you haves the knowing of it. Question now is – what you gonna do about it?’ Queenie sat in silence waiting for his answer.

  ‘I don’t know, old woman. For sure I can’t marry her and break tradition; besides my heart is Rosie’s and I told her that.’ Jake was feeling wretched and Queenie could see it.

  ‘Then you must stay away; in time she will get over her heart-break.’ Queenie patted his arm and groaned as she got to her feet ambling back to her own fireside.

  Jake sat quietly thinking about how he had wronged Lucy. For all he had given her ample opportunity to leave his vardo, she had not. He had wanted her then – but afterwards? No. He had encouraged her to leave the camp and made sure he was out and about during the days following, knowing she would seek him out.

  Now if they camped in Birmingham, it couldn’t be over by Crescent Wharf, but would it be possible to find another campsite? News of the gypsies coming to town travelled fast.

  Throwing sticks onto the fire he watched the tiny sparks fly before winking out. For the time being they would stay in Bilston.

  *

  John walked back to the ‘Two Hearts’ through the fog. He was glad to have spoken with his mother, it always made him feel better.

  Climbing aboard, he noticed his brother seemed pre-occupied; clearly he had something on his mind. John wondered if it was Lucy he was thinking about. Was he missing seeing the girl too? John determined he would do as his mother had suggested, even if it caused upset in the family.

  As the boats settled for the night, John lay in his bunk with his mind on Lucy. He had no idea at that moment that both his father and his brother were lying awake too. They were all lost in thought about the people they loved. All searching for a way to tell the others how they felt and seek advice for a way to happiness.

  The following morning breakfast was an unusually quiet affair.

  ‘I think it’s time we made a move,’ Bill said breaking the silence which hung heavy in the air.

  ‘Dad I was thinking…’ Frank fought to find the courage to express his feelings.

  Bill and John waited for him to go on. When he didn’t Bill urged, ‘Thinking what, lad?’

  ‘Well that boy, Tad Jenkins, who we met yesterday is – he has no one – what I mean is…’ Frank faltered.

  ‘Are you suggesting to work his boat with him?’ Bill asked surprised by the boy’s thinking.

  ‘If we could work something out it would help him stay in work. It needs two to work a boat dad, you know that better than anyone.’ Frank became a little agitated.r />
  John looked hard at his brother and, in that moment, he was stunned. He realised that Frank’s romantic feelings did not lie in Lucy’s direction after all, they were following a completely different path altogether. John tried to process the unspoken revelation, one which their father hadn’t a clue about but as his twin, John was fully aware. The shock rebounded time after time in his brain as he stared at the brother he was so close to. Why had he not noticed this before? Had Frank sent out signals which he had missed? John kept his thoughts to himself as he watched his twin and their father debating this latest idea.

  ‘I suppose it would make sense, Dad. You and I can manage this boat between us, and at least Tad would be earning – with Frank’s help – and it would avoid him ending up in the workhouse.’ John had found his tongue at last.

  Frank looked into the blue eyes looking back at him which held no disgust, hate or judgement. The warmth, love and support shone forth and Frank loved his brother more than ever at that moment.

  ‘I can see the sense of it but you’re too young to be out on the canals by yourself. Besides, we don’t know this Tad,’ Bill argued.

  ‘John and I took care of ourselves when we first left home,’ Frank pushed.

  ‘Yes, but you were together!’ Bill emphasised. He could see the disappointment cover the boy’s face, but couldn’t find it in him to agree to the proposal. He was afraid for his son.

  ‘But, Dad…’

  ‘No, Frank. Maybe in a couple of years, but not right now. Come on, let’s be off or we’ll be here all day!’ Bill was exasperated as he went up on deck.

  The twins shared a knowing look and John put his arm around his brother’s shoulder. ‘Sorry, Frank.’

  As the ‘Two Hearts’ chugged away, Frank stood on deck staring back at the green-eyed boy who waved to him. Waving back, he felt the very heart of him begin to crack.