by Tania Crosse
‘You’re so kind, Queenie, really you are,’ Anna murmured, her heart aching. ‘But some people in Princetown already know me. They’d know it was a lie. And what about Olive?’
‘Olive can keep a secret. An’ anyone else can go take a running jump. An’ what else you’m going to do? Find yersel’ some pokey little room somewheres? ’Ave the child cooped up in some town backstreet when it could ’ave the whole o’ Dartmoor to run wild in? Or p’r’aps you’m thinking o’ giving it away?’ she concluded with uncharacteristic sharpness.
Her tone stung into Anna’s heart and she lowered her gaze in brutal agony. ‘I don’t know,’ she choked. ‘I’ve been trying not to think about it.’
‘Then it’s time you did. You an’ me, us gets on so well. We’m a team. An’ this old cottage, ’e ’asn’t seen a little one since I were a tacker. ’E cas’n wait to ’ear a babby’s cry again. Don’t give the babby away,’ she pleaded. ‘Give it a chance.’
Anna lifted her head. Queenie’s words had exploded with such passion that it shook her to the core.
‘Is it … is that really what you want?’
‘You, me an’ the babby? Of course. No one could give it more love or a better ’ome than you an’ me. Think on it, cheel, an’ in the meantime, let’s see if that ring fits your little ’and.’
The railway strike had long been settled, and Anna gazed out of the carriage window with a blank stare, hardly noticing the lovely countryside as the train chugged south across the pretty Bere Peninsula. She had taken the early morning bus down to Tavistock and had gone to register with Dr Franfield.
‘Are you sure you want to be on my list?’ the kindly man asked. ‘It means you’ll always have to come all that way, and with the baby in tow? Dr Brodie’s very nice. I’m sure you’d like him.’
‘But he’s only in Princetown twice a week, isn’t he? So it wouldn’t make much difference, really.’
‘Just so long as you’ve thought about it.’ To Anna’s relief, Dr Franfield gave his friendly smile. ‘So, let’s see how you’re progressing, and on your way out, fill in a form for my wife. She’s the receptionist. And she’ll arrange for the midwife to visit you for the next couple of months, and I’ll take over nearer your time.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’
It had all gone so smoothly, Mrs Franfield being bright and welcoming and with no hint of disdain at her being an unmarried mother. Would Ethel be the same? Anna’s stomach was taut and filled with butterflies. She had told Ethel she had met Queenie in Princetown and they had become good friends. And that when Queenie had learnt that Anna wanted to leave Ashcroft Hall but didn’t want to leave her beloved moor, she had invited her to go and live with her. But now it was time for Anna to face the music and reveal her shameful secret to Ethel.
Anna had taken the alternative railway route from Tavistock North Station, as after running down the Bere Peninsula and the eastern bank of the Tamar, the train stopped at Ford Station, not so far from Anna’s old home. She got off the train and began to walk through the familiar narrow streets. Ethel had taken a week’s holiday, but with nowhere to go and Bert in Germany, she had been delighted to know that Anna wanted to come and visit her. But as Anna trod the uneven pavements, she felt as if the rows of little houses were pressing in on her. Had she really spent most of her life in these crowded backstreets? Her mum had died here, and her dad … It no longer felt anything like home. It seemed hostile and unfriendly, and now she was about to confess to Ethel – and possibly lose her friendship for ever.
She hesitated with her hand on the knocker of Number Sixteen. But she had delayed long enough, and girding up her courage, rapped loudly on the door. She heard footsteps running down the hallway, and the next instant, she was locked in Ethel’s tight hug. Thank goodness. Ethel hadn’t noticed. Yet.
‘Oh, it’s proper grand to see you, Annie! Come on in! Mu … um! She’s here!’
Ethel bustled her down the hallway in a flurry of excitement and into the kitchen. Mabel was sitting at the table, sipping tea from a cracked mug, and somehow managing to hold a cigarette in the same hand. Anna felt detached from the familiar scene, as if she was watching a film. Oh, she wanted so much to be part of it, like she always used to be, stale cigarette smoke and all. But she couldn’t be. Gilbert and the child he had given her were about to ruin everything.
She waited, mentally holding her breath, while Mabel looked up at her with a welcoming grin. She put down the mug and, unusually, the cigarette, and stood up.
‘Annie, love!’ she beamed as she came round the table. ‘Fred were really upset to know ’e’d miss you. You’m looking very well! Putting on … weight …’ She paused, and Anna saw the colour drain from her face as her jaw dropped. ‘Oh, my God,’ she muttered under her breath.
Anna felt her shame ooze from every pore. Her throat closed up and she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Just stood there.
‘What’s up, Mum?’ Ethel’s suddenly bewildered voice came from behind her.
Anna saw Mabel swallow. ‘If I’s not mistook,’ she croaked in disbelief, ‘Anna’s ’aving a babby.’
Shocked silence. For what? Thirty seconds? Ethel came round in front of her, her face a mask of incredulity. ‘Annie?’ she breathed.
Anna looked at her, and hot tears welled up in her eyes. She watched as Ethel’s gaze moved down to her swelling belly, then back to her face. No one spoke. Or moved. For an interminable time.
Then Ethel’s lips screwed mutinously. ‘It were that Gilbert chap, weren’t it? Blooming gentry folk! Sweet-talked you, I bets. Led you on wi’ promises o’ marriage an’ what ’ave you. An’ now there’s a babby on the way, the bastard’s dumped you. Oh, Anna, ’ow could you ’ave fallen for it? Oldest trick in the world!’
‘I know,’ Anna choked. ‘You were right, Eth. I should’ve listened to you.’
‘Well!’ Mabel huffed up her sagging bosoms. ‘Just you wait till I tells Fred. Cas’n let the devil get away wi’ it! Specially not wi’ our Annie. Go an’ see the shyster – wi’ our Davy an’ all, ’e will – an’ make the bugger marry you!’
Oh. O-oh, Anna wanted to moan. Why was it there were horrible, deceitful people like Gilbert in the world, when there were others like the Shallafords who had hearts of gold and would share their last farthing with you? To them, it was a straightforward problem with a straightforward answer. Life wasn’t always like that, though, was it?
‘I-it’s not that simple,’ she stammered. ‘He was engaged. I didn’t know. And now he’s married.’
‘Oh, Lordy love!’
‘And I wouldn’t want to marry him now even if I could. Not now I know what he’s really like.’ Anna lifted her head, the rancour she felt for Gilbert giving her confidence. ‘I only wanted a small allowance. And I think he’d have given it to me. But then he got angry and … and went for me. And Lady Ashcroft heard, and then he denied everything and she threw me out.’
‘What? But I thought as you got on well with ’er?’
‘I did, Eth. But when it came to it, I suppose her pride and her classy upbringing were just too much. She called me a trollop. And I deserved it.’
‘Oh, no, you didn’t, little maid!’ Mabel cried. ‘Too innocent an’ trusting, an’ maybes pretty stupid, but a trollop? Never! Believed you was in love, I be certain, an’ after all what ’appened to you, you was grabbing at ’appiness. Never should’ve gone off on yer own like that. Daft idea it were that you two buggers dreamt up atween you. Would’ve stopped you, us would, if us’d knawed.’
‘But I was frightened of my dad—’
‘Well, enough said, maid. You sit down yere, an’ Eth, you make a fresh pot o’ tea,’ Mabel ordered, taking charge in the way only she knew how. ‘No good moaning over spilt milk. Got to decide what’s to do. We’m good as family to you, Annie, you knows that.’
She was pushing Anna down into a chair and Anna nodded tearfully. Oh, Mabel. You’re so kind, but … ‘Eth?’
‘Blood
y bugger, I’d strangle the bastard if I could get my ’ands on ’en!’ And to emphasise the point, Ethel slammed the mug of tea on the table in front of Anna with such anger that the tea slopped over onto the tablecloth. Not that it mattered very much. It was so stained anyway, and had more than one cigarette burn in it. Anna wondered when it had last seen the inside of the washtub. It was all so typical that her mouth curved into a smile.
‘That’s better!’ Ethel grinned. ‘Now, what we’m going to do wi’ this little tacker when it comes?’
‘Queenie and me are going to fetch it up,’ Anna answered. It suddenly all seemed so simple.
‘Sounds a lovely soul does this Queenie.’
‘Oh, she is. She … she reminds me of you, Mrs Shallaford.’
‘Hurrump,’ Mabel snorted with embarrassment. ‘Well, so long as us sees summat o’ you, an’ all.’
‘Of course you will.’
‘An’ I wants to be godmother,’ Ethel put in adamantly.
‘Oh, Eth, do you? I was so worried you wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.’
‘’Ow could I not? Like sisters, you an’ me.’
‘That’s right! An’ when you two’ve finished ’ugging each other, you can ’elp me wi’ the dinner. Bangers an’ mash us is ’aving in your honour, young Annie.’ Mabel nodded her head as she retrieved the cigarette that had nearly burnt through on its own, and proceeded to light another one from its smouldering tip. ‘You sure you wants to live up on that there moor? I’d offer you an ’ome yere, but I doesn’t know where us’d put you. Not likely any o’ these are going to move out soon.’
‘It’s very kind of you even to think about it,’ Anna replied, feeling more relaxed as she sipped her tea and hardly noticed the unpleasant film on the mug. ‘And how are things going with you and Bert?’ she asked Ethel eagerly.
Ethel pulled a long face. ‘Well, ’e’s got another eighteen months nearly of ’is service to do. Thinks they’ll likely keep ’en in Germany. But we’m both saving ’ard, an’ when ’e comes ’ome …’
She plunged into the animated details of all their plans, chatting on merrily, almost without taking a breath. Anna was happy to sit back and listen, while opposite her, Mabel nodded approvingly as she took a few drags on her new cigarette before popping it into the usual place at the corner of her mouth so that she could get on with the dinner. Anna felt a warm gladness seep into the very core of her. All this time she had been petrified of telling them about the baby, her stomach turning somersaults whenever she thought about it. How silly of her. She should have known how these good people would have taken the news. Mabel was right. They were her family. She had Queenie as well now, so she was very lucky if she thought about it. Now she could face the future with strength in her heart.
Chapter Sixteen
Anna was walking back from Princetown, looking forward to Queenie’s cheery welcome at Holly Cottage and mulling over the ugly scene in Bolt’s Store. She had been ordering some dress material and maternity patterns and the woman behind her at the counter had evidently noticed what she was buying.
‘Huh! I doesn’t know how you can bring yersel’ to serve her,’ she had sneered at the shopkeeper. ‘That ring don’t fool me. Seen her in yere afore, I has, an’ she weren’t wearing no ring then. Got hersel’ into trouble, an’ thinks she can still mix with good, honest folk like us. Unmarried mother, it’s disgraceful. Should be locked up.’
Anna had gulped, wanting to disappear into thin air. It had been a horrible incident, but the shopkeeper had been so understanding. As for the customer, well, it was the first open hostility Anna had come across, and there would be plenty more where that came from, she was sure. She would just have to harden herself against it. For so many years, she had held her head high over the situation with her father, and with the support of Ethel and Queenie, she could do so again over the baby.
Oh, damn Gilbert Ashcroft! Damn him to hell! And as for this child he had lumbered her with, well, she wasn’t sure what she felt about it. Queenie seemed passionate for her to keep it, but what did she truly want herself? She really couldn’t answer her own question. She felt all topsy-turvy, she reflected grimly. The child would be her own flesh and blood, and she should love it. But it would also be Gilbert’s. Would it grow up to be like him? If she had it adopted, she would be free. Free of Gilbert and his artful lies and deceit for ever.
She sighed with dejection. Oh, what a chain of events. It was like a row of dominoes all falling on each other, and she was the end one taking all the strain. But she did have a choice. Unlike poor Francesca, who was tied to Gilbert and all his falsehood for life.
Frankie. Anna wondered what had happened to her, caught up in the hoity-toity society it had been her lot to be born into. Had her father died yet? She had all that grief to go through. And in the meantime, she would have to suffer the humiliation of knowing her husband was a cad and a liar.
Poor Frankie. Anna still thought of her as a friend. A friend she yearned to support, despite the harrowing circumstances of their relationship. But she couldn’t just walk up to Ashcroft Hall and ask to see her now, could she?
But maybe there was a way.
My dearest Frankie
No, that wasn’t right. She had only known the girl a few weeks, and although they had grown very close, their relationship wasn’t as deep as her friendship with Ethel was. And if she worded the letter in too friendly a way after all that had happened, Frankie might consider she had no right to address her with such familiarity. It could put her off reading the letter altogether, and Anna didn’t want that.
Dear Francesca
That was better. Not Lady Francesca, that would be too formal. Yes, Dear Francesca was perfect.
I can’t tell you how sorry I am about the way we parted. It must have been a terrible shock to you. I really value the friendship that grew up between us, and I had planned that you would never know what had happened between Gilbert and me. If I had known he was engaged, I would never have let it happen, but I truly believed he loved me and that one day we would be man and wife.
How can you ever forgive me? I really don’t know. But I hope and pray that you and Gilbert get over it. I do worry about you so much, and if there is anything I can do to help, I will always be here as a friend. I have been living not so far away with a lovely, elderly lady called Queenie. She’s become like a second mother to me and she wants me to go on living with her when the baby’s born. At the moment, that’s what I plan to do. I will fully understand if you never want to see or hear from me again, but if you ever want to contact me, the address is Holly Cottage, Rundlestone, near Princetown.
Your friend as ever
Anna
Mrs Smudge looked up from the table in the farmhouse kitchen, her face stilled with astonishment, and then her mouth widened into a hesitant smile. ‘Anna, what a surprise! I wondered what—’ She broke off as her gaze was inevitably drawn to Anna’s clearly thickened middle beneath her gaberdine raincoat. ‘It were true, then,’ she faltered. ‘You left the ’All cuz you was pregnant.’
‘Yes,’ Anna answered, ready to defend herself, but she was sure this down-to-earth, jovial woman she had always liked would understand – once she knew the truth. ‘I don’t know what the gossip was, and I’m sure Mrs Davenport made me out to be a slut, but it wasn’t like that. And before you ask, Gilbert is the father.’
‘Sir Gilbert?’
Anna snorted and shook her head. ‘I suppose they kept that hidden, did they? I’m supposed to have gone behind the bicycle shed with any Tom, Dick or Harry I could pick up in Princetown, am I?’
‘B-but … Sir Gilbert? ’E’m the only one o’ them up at the ’All us ’as any time for. Known ’en since ’e were a tacker. Always such a nice lad.’
‘Yes. Exactly. Just what I thought.’ Anna paused before releasing a wistful sigh. ‘Oh, I suppose he’s not a bad person. He’s just weak under all that show of self-assurance. I think he did have genuine feelings for m
e, but when it came to the crunch, he didn’t have the guts to stand up to his mother over it.’
‘Not even when he knawed you was pregnant?’
Anna sucked in her cheeks. ‘I didn’t realise until it was too late. I’d never had any experience of … of that sort of thing before. I was just a complete and utter naive fool from the start.’
Mrs Smudge nodded in agreement. ‘Good to see you, anyways. ’Ow did you get yere?’
‘I walked. I’m living just the other side of Princetown now.’
‘You walked all that way, an’ in your condition? Well, take the weight off your feet now. Should’ve asked you afore, but it were a bit of a shock to see you there. So, sit yersel’ down an’ ’ave a cup o’ tea.’
‘Thank you. Some tea would be lovely.’
Anna sat down at the table and waited while Mrs Smudge went to fetch another cup and saucer from an old wooden dresser. The cluttered room was almost as much of a mess as Number Sixteen, and just as homely and reassuring.
‘I ’as to say, us couldn’t imagine you getting’ yersel’ into trouble,’ Mrs Smudge admitted as she handed Anna the cup of tea.
Anna lowered her eyes. ‘No, nor could I. It only happened once, and I regretted it straight away. It’s no excuse, I know, but I loved him and I really thought we were going to be married. I had no idea Francesca even existed, and now I’ve ruined her life as well.’
‘Lady Francesca?’ Mrs Smudge was horrified. ‘She knaws all about it? That it were Sir Gilbert?’
‘Yes. It was the last thing I wanted. Only, because of Gilbert’s appalling behaviour, she found out. And that’s why I’ve come.’
