The Favourite Child

by Freda Lightfoot

  Chapter Twelve

  Attendance at the Clinic was increasing week by week with a regular supply of new clients, as well as repeat cases. Bella kept careful records and discovered that the first 100 or so patients had sustained between them over 500 pregnancies. One woman alone had endured eighteen, including four dead infants, three miscarriages and three children described as imbeciles. Another with four living children had lost an equal number of stillborn babies, plus several miscarriages. It was a sorry state of affairs and these pitiful stories regularly reduced her to tears.

  Bella’s regulars were more hardened and would stand on their doorsteps in their crossover pinnies to ‘do a bit of camping’ as they called it. There was nothing they liked better than to exchange tidbits of gossip they’d picked up queuing on the stairs at the clinic. They’d clip their children round the ears for ‘marlicking about’, complain over being bone weary and powfagged after a long day at the mill, usually followed by several more hours cleaning and cooking at home for their large families and yet find the energy to have a good chin-wag well into the late evening.

  After they’d moaned about their respective families, they’d turn their attention to the latest lovers walking arm in arm up the street for an evening out. ‘He must be a fresh catched ‘un,’ they’d say, if a girl had a new boy friend. Or if the couple seemed plain, or ill-matched, or considered odd in some way, one wit would drily remark: ‘Well, they won’t spoil a pair.

  Gossiping on the stairs was also a favourite occupation. Speculation about who might have ‘fallen’ as a result of not following the careful routine set down by Dr Syd was of enormous fascination to all. They would bemoan the dozens of marriages damaged by the wife’s fear of showing affection. ‘Can you blame ‘em,’ Aunt Edie would point out. ‘When it would mean another kid.’

  Mrs Blundell, having recently been delivered of a surprisingly healthy boy, jiggled the baby in her arms as he suckled at one floppy breast and told of a sailor’s wife who went into hiding whenever her husband’s ship was in port. ‘In the end he stopped coming home altogether. He were last heard of with a Chinese woman in Hong Kong.’

  ‘Eeh, some husbands would use any excuse to take on a fancy woman.’

  ‘Aye, what can you do with em, eh?’

  Several rude suggestions were made, all in silent mee-maw, which caused great hilarity and a good deal of frustration to those further up the stairs who were hoping to glean some titillating piece of information.

  ‘Eeh,’ said Mrs Stobbs, anxious to outdo this terrible tale. ‘I know of one woman who spent years in a TB Sanatorium and got put in the family way every time her husband came to see her. She told him to give over coming in the end, so he stopped at home to look after all the childer.’

  No one quite knew whether to believe this story or not but it certainly chilled the blood.

  By the time they’d reached the top of the stairs and were settling themselves on the line of chairs to await their turn to see the nurse, they were back to their favourite topic of who, amongst their friends and neighbours, had recently fallen. Mrs Blundell made herself comfortable by switching the baby to the other breast and casually remarked, ‘Have you heard, Sally Clarke’s been caught again.’

  ‘Caught?’ Bella looked up from a card she was writing at her desk, thinking she meant the police had picked Sally up for some crime.

  ‘Aye. Daft beggar should’ve got off at Deansgate but went through to London Road instead.’

  Even more bemused Bella said, ‘I still don’t understand.’

  ‘Nay, lass, don’t be so gormless. She’s up the spout!’

  ‘Oh dear God, no. Not again. But the doctor said the next baby would kill her.’

  ‘Aye well. That obviously didn’t worry Reg Clarke. Course, he can easy get another wife, can’t he?’ And as they all exchanged looks of dread, there wasn’t one woman present who didn’t cross herself with fear, and make a private vow to be even more vigilant with the help they received at the Mothers’ Clinic.

  Bella went at once to see Sally but, standing in the filthy kitchen and seeing the bemused expression on her worn, tired face over the panic she’d created, and the way she kept half glancing across at her husband where he sat reading the bible in the only comfortable chair in the room, Bella knew, in her heart, that the case had been hopeless from the start.

  ‘I offered to help,’ Bella explained to Dan, pouring out all her guilt and anxieties over the matter. ‘I argued the toss with him for ages but he wouldn’t hear of it. He said his wife needed no help from anyone, thank you very much. Wouldn’t even allow her to come and see Dr Syd for a check up now she’s expecting again. Preached to me a whole load of stuff from Genesis or Revelations or some such. I could’ve hit him!’ Whereupon she promptly burst into tears.

  ‘Nay, nay, don’t take on so. You can’t win them all.’ Dan gathered her into his powerful arms, giving her shoulder an awkward little pat. ‘Come on, you’re over tired, that’s all it is.’

  ‘I could have saved her. I could.’

  ‘No Bella, love. You can’t save everyone. Some folk are born losers. You’ve been working too hard, that’s your trouble. You know what I’m going to do with you?’

  She looked at him in a daze, her heart doing odd little jumps. ‘What?’

  ‘Take you to the fair.’

  Bella stared up into Dan’s smiling face, then started laughing as she wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘The what?’

  ‘The fair at Charlestown. You deserve a day out. We both do.’

  As soon as Violet heard of the plan she agreed wholeheartedly. Aye, that’ll do you both good. I’ll make some butties for thee.’

  There didn’t seem any reason to object and so, with a packet of sandwiches and a slice of Violet’s best ginger parkin in their pockets, Bella and Dan set off, walking the length of Liverpool Street and up Cross Lane.

  They could hear the music long before they reached the fair. Orpheus in the Underworld and the famous Strauss waltzes. In no time they were riding the garishly painted hobby horses, squealing like children on the Scenic Railway and trying their hand on the coconut shy, three balls for sixpence.

  ‘Oh, this has cheered me up no end,’ Bella agreed, tucking in to a dish of black peas as they stood listening entranced to the barrel organ, laughing at the mechanical conductor wagging his stick in time to the music. Afterwards they bought dishes of ice cream from Salvatores’ cart; the best in the district. Then Bella tried her hand on the hoopla stall, wanting to win a nice jug for Violet. Instead she was handed a goldfish in a jar. ‘What on earth shall I do with this?’ she laughed.

  ‘Give it to our Pete. He’ll love it.’

  They had to try the candy floss, of course, which stuck all over Bella’s lips, and a drink of dark, herb flavoured sarsaparilla. As darkness fell and lamps were lit, the scene changed, as if they weren’t in the middle of Salford at all, a city as comfy and shabbily familiar as a pair of old slippers. It was as if they were in a new and magical kingdom where even the sound of ship’s hooters down at Salford docks didn’t spoil the effect. The night seemed to embrace them, shrouding the shabbiness of the dusty fairground in mystery.

  ‘I really appreciate you’re taking me in, an orphan from the storm.’

  Dan chuckled and, as they strolled through the crowds, he caught her hand in his and his heart lifted when she didn’t protest but left it there. ‘Ma says you’re doing a grand job at that clinic and I know she’d love to help but doesn’t want to push her nose in where it’s not wanted.’

  ‘It’s wanted all right. We need all the support we can get. Violet’s just the sort of woman we need to chat with the younger ones, offer them some motherly advice while they wait for their check up. I’ll speak to her about it.’

  ‘Grand! I’m proud to be your friend, Bella.’ A slight pause. ‘I’d like to be more than a friend as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Dan Howarth, what are you suggesting?’ she teased.

&nbs
p; A betraying flush of crimson suffused his neck. ‘I’m asking you to walk out with me, to be my girl.’

  ‘Are you now? Well, I’d need to give that my most careful consideration.’

  They circumnavigated a roundabout of blue and scarlet hens and cockatiels while children scrambled eagerly aboard and he looked down into her lovely face, flushed with happiness, bright hazel eyes so full of laughter and fun. He ached to snatch her up into his arms and kiss her till she throbbed with the same passion that pulsated through him. He made a half move to do so, his heart thudding as he saw what appeared to be a spark of interest in her eyes. But then he checked himself. What was he thinking of? It was no doubt only kindness. Bella was nothing if not kind. And practical of course. So full of this job she was doing at the clinic that she barely noticed him, not as a chap to walk out with.

  ‘Are you going to kiss me, you great daft lump, or must I do it for you?’ Then to his astonished delight, she reached up, put her arms about his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

  Her lips were sweet and soft, deliciously warm against his. He felt as if something were exploding inside his head and he wanted to do more than kiss her, ached to make her a part of him for ever. Shame washed over him. What was he thinking of, showing no respect, and to a well brought up girl like Bella. He put her firmly from him.

  ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve done that.’

  ‘I don’t believe you did anything.’ She was laughing up at him and Dan felt suddenly confused, not quite sure whether the kiss had pleased her or not. ‘Might it have a long term future then, this “walking-out”? We’d be “doing a bit of courting”, would we?’

  ‘Are you making fun of me?’

  Bella was instantly contrite. ‘No, of course I’m not.’

  He considered her with all seriousness, her lovely face a picture of innocence. Now what did she mean by that? There was nothing Bella liked better than to have a bit of fun with him. She’d never see him as a likely candidate for a husband. Why should she when she could have her pick of admirers? Despite this spat with her dad, she was still miles above him. Miles and bleedin’ miles. Used to fancy frocks and good food on the table, not clogs and beef dripping. ‘What could a chap like me have to offer a lass like you?’ he said, unable to disguise his bitterness.

  She tilted her head to smile up at him. ‘I suppose there’d be a bit of love, would there? If you were seriously offering for me, that is?’ Her eyes were now wide and innocently questioning.

  ‘You know what I’m talking about. Money. Brass. I’ve nowt to offer a lass like you. Maybe never will have.’ Dan felt flustered and unsure of himself, thrown off balance by her teasing.

  Bella let out a heavy sigh, then put her hands to her hair as if she meant to tear it out. It was wild and tawny coloured and Dan longed to run his own fingers through the silky fronds. ‘I’m sure we’ve had this conversation before, but I’ll say it again, Dan Howarth. If I were truly in love with someone, it wouldn’t matter a jot what they earned. It’s who a person is that counts, not what they do for a living.’

  ‘That’s easy said.’

  ‘But it’s true.’

  He saw what might have been sincerity in the steadiness of her gaze but he was too far gone in self pity to respond to it. He should never have asked, never have suggested such a daft thing in the first place. ‘You may think so now. But when the first childer started coming, it’d be a different story then, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Which is where my clinic comes in. A woman needn’t have children until she’s ready for them.’

  ‘Aye but the clinic would have to close, once we were wed, wouldn’t it?’ Dan knew, the instant the words popped out of his mouth, that he’d made a bad mistake.

  Bella stopped in her tracks to stand and stare at him. ‘Have to close? Why would it have to close?’

  He strove to justify himself. ‘Because you’d be married. Everyone knows a woman can’t work at a proper job, not once she’s wed, not unless she has to, or her husband makes her. I’d never do that to a wife of mine. Besides, they say it takes bread out of a chap’s mouth when a woman works.’

  ‘Well, I think that’s a silly rule, to make women give up a perfectly good job just because they’ve got married. Who says they’d be taking away work from a man? I certainly wouldn’t be, would I? Not at the clinic.’

  Dan longed to retract but didn’t know how. His own misery had led him down this path and he wished he could retrace his steps. He made a stab at it. ‘Aye well, I grant you that, but happen you wouldn’t have time to work, not if we were wed. You’d have the house to see to, dinner to make, the childer to...’

  ‘Dear heaven, I’ve heard enough.’ Bella turned on her heels and marched away, and though he instantly ran after her, she studiously ignored him, yelling that he was as pig headed as all the other men she knew.

  Dan grabbed her arm, dragged her to a halt. ‘Why am I pig headed, just because I’d want me wife to stop at home while I went out to work to look after her. What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Everything. It turns me into a chattel. And I’ll not be anyone’s possession.’ Snatching herself free, she strode away. ‘And I won’t close the clinic for anybody, not even you, Dan Howarth.’

  ‘All right, all right. I never wanted you to. I’m sorry . Keep yer clinic then.’ But it was too late. She’d been swallowed up by the crowds, by the darkness, and although he searched every inch of the fair ground he failed to find any sign of her. The magic of the evening had evaporated and he was alone on a mucky old fairground, swearing loudly and comprehensively at himself for having just ruined a perfectly good evening because of his own blind stupidity.

  Bella walked no more than twenty yards before regretting her outburst. Their conversation had just been getting interesting and she’d ruined it. It had been foolish to lose her temper, and all because Dan wanted to look after her if she had a family to care for. What was so wrong with that? And whose children would they be? Hers and Dan’s? She felt her heart start to race in a strange, uneven rhythm. Oh Lord, what had she done?

  ‘Damnation!’ If she wasn’t careful she’d turn into a carbon copy of her mother. Stupidly prejudiced, wanting all her own way and never listening to any other opinion but her own.

  But was it so surprising that she’d not properly taken in what he was trying to tell her, in his clumsy, self-effacing way? In all their times together, Dan had never even kissed her. Even now that she’d made the first move he’d soon backed away, and she saw that he’d been afraid. Yet he must like her to even be hinting at something of this nature between them; had shyly admitted as much and confessed to feeling nervous over the differences between them. Heavens, now she’d made those differences a hundred times worse. He’d never want to kiss her, let alone find the courage to ever ask her out again, for fear of rejection. She’d just made herself even more unapproachable.

  Tears were sliding down her cheeks and Bella was almost sobbing as she turned on her heel, her one thought being to find Dan and apologise for her behaviour.

  A figure stepped out in front of her. ‘What’s this, a damsel in distress? Well, would ye believe it! We’ve bumped into each other before, have we not, Miss Ashton? Obviously we’re destined to meet whenever you’re in need of a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. Try mine, tis broad enough. Remember me? Billy Quinn. At your service.’

  It was a dangerous moment. Without question Bella could sense the danger in the air, taste it in her mouth, and discovered, to her shame, that it excited her. Mother would suffer yet another fit, a genuine one this time, if she even guessed her only daughter was standing in a fairground with a man of this sort. He hadn’t even taken off his cap as a proper show of respect. But then he wasn’t at all the kind of man even the rebellious Bella would normally look twice at, for all his handsome good looks. And yet - perhaps because of them - he possessed an undoubted attraction, like forbidden fruit and she instinctively knew that unlike Dan, Billy Quinn wouldn’t be i
n the least concerned about the differences in their backgrounds. He’d be glad enough to kiss her any day of the week. She could see it even now in the quizzical glitter of those marvellous blue eyes. In that instant, this fact alone made him utterly irresistible.

  ‘I-I was on my way home,’ she said, hating herself for the stutter.

  ‘Then I’ll escort you. A woman such as yerself shouldn’t be walking abroad at this time of night, and whoever let ye go off on yer own is a rat. Isn’t that the truth!’ He took her arm in a proprietorial way and, although Bella inwardly berated herself for not resisting, she allowed him to lead her from the fair ground. She was aware of the pressure of his hand upon her elbow, the swing of his body as he walked beside her. He was clearly the kind of man used to taking charge and she couldn’t find it in herself to argue.

  He didn’t ask her why she’d been upset, or who she’d been with at the fair and she didn’t tell him. Bella glanced back once, with the half hope that Dan might again materialise out of the darkness, but there was no sign of him.

  They spoke not one word throughout the length of Cross Lane and most of Liverpool Street. It was only when she stopped at the corner of Jacob’s Court that he looked down at her with a slight frown.

  ‘I didn’t think you lived here.’

  ‘How do you know where I live?’

  ‘I don’t,’ he calmly corrected himself. ‘I assumed that a woman like yerself would live somewhere better. Posher.’ His gaze flickered over her, clearly admiring what he saw and some pulse in Bella’s stomach fluttered with pleasure that he should find her as attractive as she found him.

  ‘You know nothing about me.’