‘We’re almost there,’ she said at last. ‘And you will do exactly as I tell you. Right?’
A shiver of fear touched his spine briefly. ‘What’s going on, Janet? What the hell is all this?’
‘Shut up, Mr Swainbank. Just bloody shut up for once, let someone else do the thinking and driving!’
‘Janet!’
The car shuddered to a halt. She turned to face him. ‘I’ve been away for five years. One of the things I missed is here, just around the corner. I’m sure you’ve heard of Rivington Pike?’
He nodded dumbly.
‘I’m going to walk right to the top, have a quick look at my home town. After five minutes, you will follow me. Have you got that?’
‘Yes.’
She touched his hand briefly. ‘Everything’s going to be all right. Stop worrying and asking why and where and what. I stopped asking those things almost a year ago. Trust me. OK?’
‘I’ll try.’
Janet Maguire stood at the foot of the hill and looked up at the lone figure next to the folly. Even from this distance, she could tell that the shoulders were hunched, that sadness, grief, even loneliness hung heavily around her poor little mother’s neck. With the agility of a young deer, she launched herself at the steep gradient. ‘Mam!’ she called as she paused for breath. ‘Mam! It’s me – Janet!’
Molly sank to the ground, her arms outstretched to receive this precious girl. ‘Oh, love. Where have you been? Where the bloody hell have you been all this long while?’
They clung together, then Janet pulled away to look at the careworn but still pretty face. ‘Like Pussy, I’ve been up to London to look at the queen!’
‘It were a long flaming visit, then!’
‘A long flaming war, eh?’
Molly’s tears flowed freely. ‘Joey . . . and Paddy—’
‘I know. I went to the grave earlier on.’
‘Have you seen Ma?’
‘Oh yes. I had to report to base first. She seems in good order, no bits missing, still as sharp as a razor.’
‘You look lovely, our Janet. And don’t you talk nice?’
‘I had to. They didn’t understand proper English down there, Mam. Thick as two short planks, they were. When I asked did they want a butty, they all fell about laughing, specially the Americans. Well, it was no good having patients dropping out of their beds like that, was it? So I had to mend my ways.’
‘But you’re still the same girl, aren’t you?’
‘Why? Did you want a new one?’
Molly dried her eyes. ‘Nay, lass. Never. I don’t want anything now.’
‘Don’t you?’
‘No. What would I be wanting? I’ve got three lovely children, a nice house, me mother-in-law to drive me mad. There’s nowt missing in my life, lass. Nowt worth having.’
‘But I’m sorry I left you. If I’d known they were going to die—’
‘Not your fault, love. And how would England have got through this war without my daughter? Nay, they’d be frog-marching all over the shop but for you. Mind, I did miss you. So did Paddy. I felt so guilty – there I was, thinking he was playing me up again—’
‘We all thought that most days. It’s no use blaming yourself.’
‘Aye. Well, there was more to it than that, our Janet. A lot more.’
Janet knelt in front of her mother as the man began his ascent. ‘Whatever that lot more is, Mam, don’t worry about it.’
‘Eh?’
‘The past. Don’t dwell on it.’
‘Easy advice to give, lass. Not so easy to follow.’
‘He’s here.’
‘Who’s here?’
‘The one who’s been at the back of your mind all these years. Somebody I think you should talk to, Mother.’
‘Janet! What have you been up to? I can hear somebody coming – get out of me road! Have you gone crackers or what? Janet!’
The younger woman rose slowly to her feet, her hands still clinging to her mother’s. ‘Here’s Mr Swainbank,’ she announced clearly. ‘Mr Swainbank, I believe you’ve met my mother?’
He stood awkwardly on the rim of the hill. ‘Yes. Of course I know your mother.’
Molly’s hands fell away as Janet released her hold. She stared up at the two of them, her face creased by shock and the brightness of an afternoon sun. ‘What the blinking heck . . . ?’ she began hesitantly.
Janet pushed Charles nearer to the Pike. With her eyes meeting his boldly, she said, ‘Paddy will always be my dad. I know you understand that, Charlie. But you are my father.’
Molly gasped audibly. After a long pause, she managed to spit the words, ‘You told her! You went and told her . . .’
‘No!’ He gaped at the two women, his hands straying along the tower for support. ‘I did no such thing, believe me!’
‘Be quiet, both of you!’ Janet’s eyes shone with determination. ‘You’ve a grandson, a sweet handsome little boy. My boy. He’ll get no shocks like this one. I’ll make sure he knows who his father was, even though I never married him. Stop looking at me like that! I’m not angry, not upset! And I understand why you never told me before. I loved Paddy Maguire and I’m glad you didn’t hurt him.’
‘A grandson?’ Molly’s hand was pressed tight against her chest.
Janet’s chin jutted forward defiantly. ‘From a man I cared about, someone who made my life worth living! I loved him. Just like you’ve always loved this fellow here. Gran knows. Gran knows you still care about one another. There’s more wisdom in that woman’s little finger . . . oh!’ She almost screamed her exasperation. ‘If just one of you had half Gran’s sense . . . !’
‘Eh?’ Molly’s eyes strayed from Janet to Charles. ‘Ma Maguire! I’ll kill her—’
‘Please youself,’ said Janet, her tone deliberately sweeter. ‘Only I think you should both shut your mouths. You look like a pair of clocks waiting for cuckoos to jump out and sing the hour.’
Charles stepped forward to help Molly to her feet. ‘There’s a lot of you in this girl,’ he said quietly. ‘She’s not completely Swainbank, Molly.’
‘Thank God,’ came the quick response.
Janet raised her eyes to heaven. ‘Here we go. I was warned. Gran said you’d probably kill one another one day. Kill one another or get together and fight the rest of your lives. Anyway, just make your own minds up about that. There’s nothing more I can do.’ She looked around furtively. ‘Hey?’ she muttered in a stage whisper. ‘Is anybody watching?’
‘No,’ they replied in unison.
‘Good. Last one down’s a cretin. Oh – by the way – you’d best hurry up, you two. I told Gran to make a special tea. We’ll only suffer if her butties are curled up!’ She flung herself on to the grass and rolled away from them, disappearing fast down the side of the hill.
They stepped towards the edge and watched the flash of moving colour that was their daughter. ‘Well.’ Molly groped for something to say. All she could feel was a sense of blessed relief and freedom, something she hadn’t known for more than twenty-three years. ‘A grandson, eh?’
‘That’s what she said.’
‘We’d best be going then.’
‘Yes.’
She glanced at his handsome profile. ‘Charlie?’
‘What?’
‘How are we going to get down this time?’
He took her hand and held it tightly. ‘Together, Molly,’ he said, his voice roughened by emotion. ‘We go together.’
THE END
Author’s Note
Particular thanks and appreciation are due to those who maintain our few remaining cotton mills. I must also express heartfelt gratitude to some visionary men of business who have occupied, enhanced and found a purpose for old cotton factories, thereby holding intact a display of our heritage.
On a larger scale, I pay homage to every soul who tended cloth, to breakers, carders, piecers, winders, weavers, doffers and bleachers. And I must mention those who toiled beneath the
ground, especially the three hundred plus who did not survive Pretoria. God bless them all.
And last, but never least, I recall with great fondness my uncle, James Higgins. He is portrayed in this novel as he actually was, though I managed to improve his lot in life by imagining what I would have chosen for him. To his daughter Eileen Riley, I say thanks for lending me this wonderful character, for allowing me to use his name..
We all remember your music, Uncle Jim.
Ruth Hamilton
About the Author
Ruth Hamilton was born in Bolton and has spent most of her life in Lancashire. Her novels, A Whisper to the Living, With Love From Ma Maguire, Nest of Sorrows, Billy London’s Girls, Spinning Jenny, The September Starlings, A Crooked Mile, Paradise Lane, The Bells of Scotland road, The Dream Sellers, The Corner House, Miss Honoria West and Mulligan’s Yard, are all published by Corgi Books and she is a national bestseller. She has written a six-part television series and over forty children’s programmes for independent television. Ruth Hamilton now lives in Liverpool with her family.
For more information on Ruth Hamilton and her books, see her website at: www.Ruth-Hamilton.co.uk
Also by Ruth Hamilton
A Whisper to the Living
Nest of Sorrows
Billy London’s Girls
Spinning Jenny
The September Starlings
A Crooked Mile
Paradise Lane
The Bells of Scotland Road
The Dream Sellers
The Corner House
Miss Honoria West
Mulligan’s Yard
and published by Corgi Books
TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS
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A CORGI BOOK : 0 552 13616 6
Version 1.0 Epub ISBN: 9781446465639
Originally published in Great Britain by Bantam Press, a division of Transworld Publishers
printing history
Bantam Press edition published 1990
Corgi edition published 1992
10
Copyright © Ruth Hamilton 1990
The right of Ruth Hamilton to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Corgi Books are published by Transworld Publishers
a division of The Random House Group Ltd
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The Random House Group Ltd Reg. No. 954009
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Part One: 1904
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Part Two: The Twenties
Chapter 4
Part Three: The Thirties
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Part Four
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Author’s Note
About the Author
Also by Ruth Hamilton
Copyright
With Love From Ma Maguire Page 58
