For Better For Worse (26 page)

Kaye took a deep breath. He was right. As unpleasant as it was, she had to lay aside her own feelings and deal with it.

‘First and foremost I have to protect my aunt,’ she said, reaching for the cigarette case. ‘She is happy. For the first time in her life, she feels safe and loved. Oh, I know she still grieves for her child, but apart from that, she is content. I can’t allow Henry to disturb that.’

‘He is your next of kin,’ Mr Dobbin reminded her, ‘and as head of the house …’

‘I won’t turn her out,’ Kaye cried. ‘There is no way she could face going back into that awful place and she’s incapable of taking care of herself.’ Kaye shook her head in frustration. ‘She wouldn’t last five minutes on her own.’

‘You could put some sort of settlement on her,’ said Mr Dobbin. ‘Something legally binding which would make sure she’d never lack for anything, should, God forbid, anything happen to you, and your husband did decide to come back and take over.’ He took the cup of coffee she held out in front of him. ‘Or we could offer him a sum of money to stay away …’

‘Do you think that would work?’

‘Knowing Henry,’ said Mr Dobbin, shooting out his bottom lip, ‘frankly I don’t. He’d be back for more in no time, but you could try.’

‘What do you think I should offer to keep him away?’

‘I think perhaps £2,000 would give him a good enough reason,’ said Mr Dobbin with a casual shrug as Kaye spluttered. ‘I can draw up some papers for him to sign … to make sure that he agrees not to come back if he takes the money.’

‘£2,000 is an awful lot of money,’ said Kaye.

Mr Dobbin nodded in agreement. ‘But if it brings you peace of mind …’

‘It’s going to be very awkward with the others here as well,’ Kaye mused.

‘Others?’

‘His two bigamist wives are living in this house,’ and seeing Mr Dobbin’s jaw drop she added, ‘long story but it works for us. Thank God he doesn’t know where we are all living.’

While Kaye was talking with her solicitor, Sarah took the opportunity to go and see Mrs Angel. She’d dressed carefully, wearing a hand-knitted Fair Isle jumper under her winter coat. Her coat was new … well, new to her. She’d bought it at Lil Relland’s shop in North Street for 10/6. A scarf around her neck kept the cold wind at bay. She was going to see her old friend because she needed to replace the material she had used for Edward’s Christmas present and make another romper suit for Mr Lovett. She was dying to see if Mrs Angel had any more orders. Mrs Angel was so delighted to see her that she turned the open sign on the door to ‘closed’ and they went out into the living quarters at the back of the shop.

‘Where are the children?’ Mrs Angel asked as she put the kettle on.

‘Jenny is at school,’ Sarah said, ‘and Lu-Lu is being looked after by Kaye’s aunt Lottie. It’s the first time I’ve let her do it and she’s so excited, but I don’t want to stay away too long. I’ve got to pop round to the yard to see Peter Millward when I leave here.’

‘So tell me what you’ve been doing since you left the fisherman’s cottage.’

Sarah told her old friend all about Christmas and how she and the girls were getting along in their new home. She left out the bits about how much Annie irritated her and that she was planning to marry Peter Millward if he would still have her. Instead, the picture she painted was rather rosy.

‘I wish I could have helped you more,’ Mrs Angel sighed.

‘What more could you have done?’ said Sarah. ‘Besides, you had enough on your plate with your sister being ill. How is she, by the way?’

‘Recovered, but it has shaken her up a bit,’ said Mrs Angel. ‘She’s talking about retiring. Oh my dear, you should have said. You and the girls could have stayed here for a while. It would have been a bit of a squeeze but we would have managed.’

‘You’ve already been more than a friend to me,’ said Sarah. She went on to explain about the romper suit.

‘I’m so sorry, my dear,’ said Mrs Angel, pushing a cup of tea in front of her. ‘I’m afraid Mr Lovett won’t be taking any more orders and he’s obviously forgotten you still had one to make. He retired. I have a new representative now.’ She leaned forward and put her hand beside her mouth in a conspiratorial way, ‘He’s not nearly as nice as Mr Lovett.’ And Sarah laughed.

‘Perhaps it’s just as well,’ said Sarah, doing her best to hide her disappointment. ‘I have little time for sewing now.’

‘I’m glad things have worked out so well,’ said Mrs Angel. ‘I had high hopes that you and Peter might get together one day.’

Sarah looked away and changed the subject. Peter’s letter had been brief and to the point.
‘I hope you and the girls had a wonderful Christmas. If it’s all right, could you pop by the yard this afternoon? I can’t wait to see you and I have something very special to ask you.’

She’d been thinking a lot about him since the holidays began. She’d missed him being around and Lu-Lu talked incessantly about Occklepep. The urgency to leave the house had long gone and she and Annie rubbed along together fairly well. She knew they would never be close friends, but at least they had stopped being enemies. Sarah enjoyed working at Copper Beeches. She never thought she would, but she enjoyed giving Kaye and Lottie a high level of care and attention. She had not only made it a home but she’d put her own feminine touches around the place and, funnily enough, in doing so she didn’t feel one bit like a servant. But if she married Peter Millward, she could make a home of her own, a permanent place for the girls and somewhere safe and secure. The time they’d been apart had served to crystallise her feelings. She still didn’t love him, but she was willing to give this relationship her very best shot. She would grow to love him, she was sure of that, and perhaps once she got used to it, even that tuft of hair at the end of his nose wouldn’t seem so bad. He obviously had feelings for her. After all, he wouldn’t have said, ‘
I can’t wait to see you’
if he hadn’t.

As she hurried towards Peter’s coal yard, Sarah could feel her nervousness returning. She patted her hair in place and climbed the fire escape steps two at a time. As she pulled the door open, Peter was just coming out of the little kitchen at the rear. When he saw Sarah, his face broke into a wide smile.

‘Sarah,’ he cried. ‘Come in, come in. It’s so good to see you again. Did you have a nice Christmas?’

Sarah closed the door and began to unwind her scarf from around her neck. The little office was stuffy and the smell from the paraffin heater overwhelming. ‘We did,’ she smiled. ‘It was the best we’ve had for a long time.’

‘I’m glad,’ he said, returning her smile. ‘So was mine.’ He turned his head and called over his shoulder, ‘Better make that three teas, darling. Sarah’s here.’

Sarah was conscious that her jaw had dropped but she quickly recovered herself.

‘Sit down,’ he invited. ‘We’ve got a lot to talk about.’

Her mind was in a whirl. Darling? Who was darling? Her cheeks were flaming with embarrassment. Thank God he couldn’t read her thoughts.

‘I can’t stay long,’ she blurted out. ‘I have to collect Jenny from school.’

The kitchen door creaked slightly and Peter jumped to his feet to hold it open wide. A small dark-haired woman entered the room carrying two cups of tea. She was older than Sarah, homely rather than pretty, with small features and smiley eyes. She was wearing a hand-knitted lemon twinset which was so beautifully done it would have easily won a WI competition. She wore lipstick but no jewellery. Sarah cupped her hands around her tea as the woman nipped back for a third cup and joined them at the desk.

‘This is Nancy,’ said Peter proudly. ‘Nancy is my fiancée.’ They gazed lovingly at each other as she sat down. ‘I asked her to marry me on New Year’s Eve and to my utter amazement, she said yes.’

Sarah swallowed hard. All those trips to Wales – they were nothing to do with expanding his business interests, were they. He must have been seeing Nancy for some time. How could she have got this so wrong? A knot had formed in the pit of her stomach.

‘Congratulations,’ she said heartily. ‘I wish you both every happiness. You deserve it.’

Leaning forwards, Peter kissed Nancy’s hands.

Sarah cleared her throat. ‘What was it you wanted to ask me?’

‘Um? Oh yes,’ said Peter. ‘I know you’re very good with a needle and we wondered if you would mind giving Nancy a hand with her dress.’

‘It’s a bit of a cheek,’ said Nancy when Sarah didn’t answer straight away. ‘I mean I don’t know you, but Peter says you’ve been a real brick to him.’

Sarah was struck dumb. What could she say? This wasn’t Nancy’s fault. Now she understood how desperate Peter had been to get married. As an older man, he wanted to settle down before it was too late.

‘Perhaps we shouldn’t have asked,’ said Nancy uncertainly.

‘No, no, it’s fine,’ Sarah protested. ‘You just took me by surprise, that’s all.’

‘I already have some material,’ said Nancy, a Welsh lilt in her soft voice, ‘and of course we shall pay you.’

‘I wouldn’t hear of it,’ said Sarah. ‘Consider it my present to you both.’

As they discussed the dress and when Nancy would need fittings, Sarah struggled not to give way to tears. It was ridiculous being so upset because she didn’t love Peter, but when she’d read his letter, it never once occurred to her that he had something else in mind. Thank God she hadn’t said anything to Mrs Angel. That would have been too embarrassing.

‘I’m afraid there’s something else,’ said Peter sheepishly. ‘Now that I’ve got my Nancy, I shan’t be needing a bookkeeper anymore.’

Sarah swallowed hard. She hadn’t done his books for a while and was rather hoping he would give them to her today so that she could update them. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything else,’ she said brightly. ‘As a matter of fact, I was going to tell you that now that I’ve got a housekeeping job, it would be a bit difficult to find the time anyway.’

Peter looked relieved. ‘So it all worked out in the end.’

‘Yes,’ she smiled. ‘It all worked out in the end.’

*

Henry sat in his cell with a self-satisfied grin on his face. Halfway through his sentence and everything was going so well. He knew he was the envy of half the prison because he had already had his regular visitor, his guilty secret. Many of the prisoners thought she was his rich mother. Henry wouldn’t be drawn as to her identity. Instead, he would smile mysteriously and tap the side of his nose. He preferred to play his cards close to his chest and today he would have another visitor. Annie was coming with the baby. That would get them all talking about him. He would see his son for the very first time. He’d been waiting for the visitor’s bell ever since lunchtime and now, at last, the cell doors were being opened.

They didn’t have long. Visiting times were only an hour and it wouldn’t be private. The room was filled with other prisoners waiting to see their wives and girlfriends. He sat at a table and watched the door. She was one of the last ones to come in. She was wearing a brown coat with a knitted scarf about her neck. Her hair was covered by a headscarf and she was carrying the baby in her arms. His heart lurched. She sat down in front of him and smiled.

‘Let me look at him then,’ he said.

She pulled back the shawl and turned so that he could see the baby. He was asleep, and contrary to what his guilty secret had said about newborn babies, he wasn’t a screwed up little thing with a wizen face. Edward had a peachy-coloured little round face, with slightly flushed cheeks. He looked almost cherubic, and although his eyes stayed firmly shut, his hand came up and his fingers moved as if in salute to his father. Suppressing a smile, Henry let a little air escape from his mouth. So this was his son. His boy. After all this time, he could show the world what he was made of. They wouldn’t look down on him now. He was a man and he’d proved it. He had a son. His name would go on for another generation. This boy was a Royale. He became aware that she was talking.

‘You won’t believe the time I’ve had getting here,’ she was saying. ‘I brought him in the pram and I’ve had to ride in the guard’s van all the way. It was a bit of a trial when I got to Southampton because I had to change platforms, but the porters were very kind and I made it in time. It was a bit lonely in the van all by myself, but at least I was able to feed Edward.’

He glanced up at the boy’s mother, a look of disapproval on his face. ‘You didn’t go exposing yourself in public, did you?’

‘Not exactly,’ she laughed.

‘I won’t have it,’ he said, screwing his hands into a fist. ‘No wife of mine should do … that in public.’ He curled his lip.

‘Oh Henry,’ she smiled. ‘How else am I going to feed him? He can’t go all day without milk.’ She looked up at him and was alarmed by the expression on his face.

‘It’s disgusting,’ he hissed.

‘I’m very discreet,’ she said anxiously. ‘No one can see a thing. I put the shawl over my shoulder like this …’

‘Shut up,’ he snapped, his eyes flashing with anger. He spun his head around to make sure no one was listening. A warder came towards him.

‘Everything all right here?’

‘Everything’s fine, Mr Chambers,’ said Henry cheerily.

‘Madam?’

‘Yes,’ said Annie somewhat shakily. ‘Everything’s fine.’ Mr Chambers moved on. ‘I’m sorry, Henry.’ Her voice was thick with emotion. ‘Please don’t let’s fight. There’s so little time.’

He looked at his son again. She should have the kid on the bottle. It wasn’t right, his boy suckling her breast like that … and in public. He shuddered at the thought, but aware that Mr Chambers was still watching them, he changed the subject. ‘So what have you been doing with yourself?’

She prattled on, telling him about nothing in particular. Her mother, the Mother and Baby Home … God, he’d forgotten how irritating she was. In the end, he switched off and filled his head with his own thoughts. Kaye would have had his letter by now. He wondered whether to send another one, but he resented the fact that that pompous old twit Dobbin would read it first. If only he had her address.

‘I told Mother I wouldn’t stay,’ Annie was saying, ‘but she wouldn’t hear of my having a flat on my own. Surprisingly though it’s turned out to be all right.’