Cath arrived at seven o’clock the following evening accompanied by Jimmy pushing a handcart containing an old iron bedstead, a mattress and several mysterious-looking bundles. ‘All my worldly goods,’ Cath said, her expression mischievous.
Molly folded her arms across her bosom, heart beating fast, a mutinous expression upon her face. ‘I don’t want you here. You’ve destroyed my peace of mind.’
Cath promptly said, ‘Come off it, Moll. You can’t have any peace of mind. You’re deceiving your husband with another man.’ She lifted a bundle out of the cart.
‘I am not!’ Molly darted a look at two of her neighbours gossiping on the other side of the street. ‘There is nothing, I repeat, nothing, going on between Mr Collins and me,’ she whispered. ‘And keep your voice down.’
Cath exchanged looks with Jimmy. ‘D’you believe her?’
He looked pensive. ‘I suppose I could have got it wrong. Still she’s a shareholder in the factory and your brother doesn’t know about that. And perhaps there was something going on between her and old Barnes instead. You know what they say about old men’s darlings.’
Molly gasped and her arms dropped to her sides as she clenched her fists. ‘How dare you? What kind of person do you think I am? I looked after Jessica, that’s all, and he knew my mother. And if you really want to know the truth about me and Mr Collins – we came from the same village and went to the same school. That’s why we’re friendly.’ They both stared at her and smiled. ‘We believe you, Moll,’ said Cath. ‘Can we get past now and get this stuff inside?’
Molly glared at her, exasperated. ‘You’ve got a nerve, you know that?’ She moved a couple of inches to the side. ‘Anyway, I haven’t done anything to either of the back rooms. There’s damp and neither of them have been painted for years and there’s no oilcloth on the floors.’
‘Thanks for letting us know,’ said Cath sweetly, motioning Jimmy forward. He picked up two of the bundles and followed her inside. ‘By the way,’ she called over her shoulder, ‘Ma knows about the baby so you can expect a visit. I didn’t tell her, if you’re wondering.’
Molly groaned, having a fair idea who had. That Bernie! She determined to be out the next few days.
Contrary to what she’d expected her sister-in-law seemed determined to be pleasant to her, handing over money for her board as soon as Jimmy left and adding that he knew where to get whitewash cheap and would do the walls of both rooms for her. ‘And you don’t have to thank me,’ Cath said with a smile, settling herself in front of the fire with that evening’s Echo.
‘I don’t intend to!’ Molly took the kettle from the hob. ‘I suppose you want a cup of tea?’ she said tersely.
‘Love one.’
‘What did Ma say about your leaving?’ Molly watched her, hoping to be able to read in her expression whether she was here on her mother’s orders or not.
Cath lowered the newspaper. ‘Tried to stop me but I’d had enough of her and our Josie. You’ve no idea how they carry on. Stop looking so worried, Moll. I’m sure we’ll get on fine. I want to stay here so unless you go and do something completely shocking, I’ll keep my mouth shut where our Frank and Ma’s concerned about you know what.’
She could have screamed but was suddenly inclined to believe Cath. Molly didn’t like the methods she’d used to get her feet under table, but she was here now and they were just going to have to make the best of it.
The next day, when Molly returned from the Free Library, her next-door neighbour told her she’d had a visitor. ‘Scrawny little woman – said she was yer mother-in-law and that she hopes to find yer in next time.’ I wish she’d said when, thought Molly, but decided Ma might have guessed she would try and avoid her if she’d given a date. As it was Molly didn’t set eyes on her the rest of that week.
On Sunday Doris turned up in a horse-drawn cart. ‘I’ve brought yer sewing machine, kid.’
Molly was pleased. ‘I thought Nathan had forgotten about it.’
‘Jimmy reminded him. And I’ve money for yer, too, for looking after Jessica.’
Molly’s smile vanished. ‘There was no need for him to do that.’
‘There’s a note with it.’ Doris took an envelope from her pocket ‘I did think of not giving it to yer. I don’t want to be no go-between, you being a married woman.’ Molly snatched the envelope from her and hurried into the house, slitting the envelope with one finger. A half crown fell out and she pocketed it before unfolding the sheet of paper.
Dear Moll,
Having met Frank face to face, I can’t say I like what I see. He’s a handsome devil so I can understand why you were attracted to him, but you never said he was violent. I can only presume he’s never hit you. But if he ever was to, you must leave him. What a mess this all is.
I’ve managed to persuade Cook and Flo to come back as well as Doris, so things aren’t too bad. The doctor reckons Mother’s had some kind of brainstorm which led to a nervous collapse. Anyway it’ll be some time before she’s well again. I’m sending your sewing machine and have asked Mrs Arkwright about work. Jimmy will bring it.
Yours, Nathan
What did he mean, Frank violent? thought Molly. It must have been his aiming a swipe at Jessica that gave Nathan the wrong idea. He probably hadn’t ever meant to hit her but would certainly explode if he saw this letter. Molly dropped it on the fire and watched it burn, supposing it proved Nathan still cared about her which was nice to know. Even though they must keep their distance.
The following morning Jimmy arrived bearing a large cardboard box. It contained cut out hangings and frontals in need of hemming and decorating. There were reels of different coloured cottons as well as embroidery silks and a roll of golden fringe. ‘Four sets,’ he said. ‘Red, green, white and violet to cover the Church’s year.’
She put aside her annoyance with him.
‘You mean green for spring, etc? I’ve been going to church off and on for years but never thought about what the colours meant.’
He grinned. ‘You’ve got a few things to learn then. Green’s for the weeks following Pentecost and after Epiphany. White’s Easter and Christmas. Red’s Good Friday.’
‘Violet?’
Jimmy’s brow knitted then he clicked his fingers. ‘Lent! Different colours for the different saints’ days too. St James is red. I know that because I’m named after him.’
‘It makes for a colourful church,’ said Molly, washing her hands before fingering the material.
‘I like a bit of colour meself.’
She nodded and said casually, ‘How are things at the factory?’
‘Not bad. We’ve had a visitor. Miss Charlotte Braithwaite no less. The boss took her round.’
Molly’s hand paused on a length of purple cloth. ‘What’s she like?’
‘Didn’t have much to say to me. But the women seemed to think she was OK, asking about their work and telling them what was going on in the south where that Mrs Pankhurst and her daughter are creating trouble. She’s one of those suffragettes, isn’t she?’ He shook his head uncomprehendingly. ‘Wants to rule the roost – definitely anti men. It goes to show, doesn’t it?’
‘It doesn’t go to show that’s true of all women fighting for the vote and equal rights,’ said Molly, eyes glinting. ‘I agree with some of their aims and I’m not anti men. Although I reckon I’m as clever as half of them and quite capable of ruling my roost here.’
‘That’s heresy,’ said Jimmy, hands on hips, shaking his head at her. ‘You don’t want to let your Frank hear you.’
Her eyes glinted. ‘You shut up about my Frank and tell me when these are needed?’
‘Next Friday. You’d better have them ready or there’ll be hell to pay. Mrs Arkwright can be a real tartar.’
‘They’ll be ready.’
Molly set to work with enthusiasm. It was a real pleasure handling such lovely fabrics – and all for the glory of God. She enjoyed herself so much she gave no thought to Ma Payne, so that when the knock came she went to answer the door without thinking twice.
A familiar bony figure stood on the step in her long black coat, arms folded across her chest, handbag dangling from one wrist and coal scuttle hat pulled low over her brow. ‘So I’ve caught yer in at last, girl. If I didn’t know better I’d think yer’ve been trying to avoid me.’
‘Looks like it, doesn’t it?’ said Molly, hating being disturbed.
Ma shook her head. ‘Yer getting real hard-faced.’
‘You mean because I’m sticking up for myself? Anyway I’m busy right now and who’s to say I have to invite you in?’
Ma Payne’s jaw dropped. ‘But I’ve walked all this way.’
‘More fool you.’
The older woman pursed her lips, cleared her throat and burst out, ‘Now listen, girl, you’re carrying my boy’s babby and yer gonna need help when yer time comes.’
‘Not from you I’m not! I’ve a proper midwife coming. One who’s been recommended.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Ma surprised Molly by saying. ‘But yer’ll still need help. And what’s our Frank going to say about all this?’
‘All what?’
‘You chasing me out when I’m knackered.’
‘I doubt he’d be surprised.’ Molly made to close the door but Ma Payne wedged her foot in it.
‘Where’s yer Christian spirit? I’m an old woman and I’m weary after that walk.’
Molly sighed. ‘Why don’t you get your violin out?’
‘I would if I thought it’d make a different.’
Molly couldn’t help it, she smiled and gave in. ‘One cup of tea and then off you go. I’ve work to do.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of pitching me tent.’ Ma followed her in, looking about her. ‘Haven’t got much in the way of nick-nacks, have yer? Although that’s a nice vase on the mantelpiece. I’ve got one like it that our Frank brought me. He’s got nice taste has my lad.’
Molly lost patience with her. ‘He’s not your lad anymore! He’s my husband!’
‘OK! Keep yer hair on.’ Ma sat down, pulling up her skirt and baring her knees to the heat of the fire. ‘This is a lovely blaze. How can you afford to keep it going during the day? Our Cath’s money, I suppose. How are yer both getting on?’
‘Surely she’s been to see you and given you a report?’ said Molly, throwing a cloth over her work before her mother-in-law could make any comment about that. She also removed the pan simmering on the fire, replacing it with the kettle.
The older woman sniffed. ‘Something smells good.’
‘Bacon bones.’
‘Yer don’t want to be spoiling our Cath, yer know. She’s an ungrateful faggot. Her leaving’s had the neighbours jangling – they’re saying things about me. I’m real annoyed with her. I had to tell lies, say our Frank had asked her to stay and look after yer.’
Was all this true and there was in fact no scheming going on between mother and daughter? It certainly sounded like it.
‘Yer looking better than yer have done. When’s the baby due? I reckon it must be May.’
‘Then why ask?’
‘Just want to make sure. Yer not very big.’
Molly stared at her. ‘What are you suggesting?’
Ma had the grace to look uncomfortable. ‘Boys are big,’ she muttered.
‘You weren’t hinting at that. I’m small because I’ve been working blinkin’ hard.’
‘OK, OK! I believe yer.’
‘So you should.’
Molly seemed to have taken the wind out of Ma’s sails because she was quiet for a while. But not long enough. ‘I’ve come to tell yer I went to that Burscough place. Not much there, is there? Not like Bootle.’ She shivered. ‘I hate the country. Anyhow, I couldn’t find the poor wee mite’s grave on me own, so I asked the vicar.’
‘You what?’ said Molly, having to sit down quickly because her knees went weak.
‘I’d bought some flowers, hadn’t I? I wasn’t carrying them all the way home again,’ Ma said pugnaciously.
‘So what did he tell you?’
‘Showed me the grave. Someone else had been putting flowers on it. He explained it was the woman who’s buried there’s brothers. And her husband occasionally goes, too.’
Of course! Nathan hadn’t forgotten her as Molly wouldn’t have forgotten Frank if he were really dead. Did Nathan ever see his brothers-in-law? For a moment Molly felt sick with worry, then realised that of course they couldn’t have mentioned the sovereigns to him or he would have said something to her.
Ma was continuing, ‘He told me all about how yer couldn’t afford even a pauper’s grave for little Mabel. I didn’t like that, Moll. Yer should have got in touch. I didn’t realise the poor mite actually lived for a few days. I thought she were a stillborn.’
‘What difference does that make?’ All this talk was making her remember the horror of it all.
‘I want me grand-daughter to have her own place to rest,’ said Ma, jutting out her chin. ‘Besides she should be in the Catholic cemetery. So I went to see the parish priest, Father Eager.’
‘You what!’ Molly shot to her feet, eyes wide with dismay. ‘What have you done? You haven’t dug her up, have you?’
‘Don’t be daft, girl. They wouldn’t let me without our Frank’s permission.’ Ma shook her head dolefully. ‘Anyway, Father Eager’s going to write to Frank and see what can be done.’
‘You interfering old faggot!’ cried Molly, trembling. ‘How can you do this to me? Raking it all up, stirring up bad memories and while I’m carrying too? Isn’t it bad enough that I bear the memory of my mam dying in childbirth?’
The little woman was defiant. ‘I did what I thought was right.’
‘You were interfering in something that’s none of your business. She’s mine and Frank’s daughter, not yours.’ Molly’s voice broke and she pointed in the direction of the door. ‘I want you out of this house.’
Ma did not move, sitting bolt upright clutching her large handbag to her bosom, two bright spots of colour in her cheeks. ‘Well, I’m not going. You just calm down, girl. It’s not good for the baby. And I want that cup of tea. I’m parched and me legs need a rest. I’ll say no more about the other poor mite.’
‘You’ve said enough.’ Molly’s voice shook.
‘Well, as I said, I’ll say no more.’
Frustrated, Molly looked at her with dislike. Without evicting the woman bodily she was not going to get her to move. What was she to do? What if Frank and his mother were to go there together and meet Em and talk to her, ask questions? Any suspicions Em might have had about the truth, she would feel morally obliged to divulge.
The kettle began to steam and Ma rose and made tea. She handed a cup to Molly who took it without speaking. Ma began to talk, chattering gaily on about how Bernie had found herself a job in a gown shop on Stanley Road and that everybody reckoned Charlie had a fancy woman because he was always disappearing without saying where he was going. Josie had another cleaning job but there wasn’t a man prepared to take her on yet. Ma thought her own lumbago was getting worse.
At last she drained her cup and said she would be going. ‘I’ll be back, though,’ she said, buttoning up her coat. ‘Sorry if I upset yer.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Molly, shivering. ‘And don’t hurry back. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t come back. Ever.’
Ma sniffed. ‘That’s very nice, that is. But what I’d expect from yer, the mood yer in. This is our Frank’s house and I’ll not be banned from it.’
Molly saw her out. ‘You stubborn, hateful woman,’ she muttered, slamming the door behind her.
She was glad to pick up the red frontal she was embroidering with grapes and vine leaves, although she felt as if a cloud labelled ‘doom’ hung over her. She tried to vanquish it, think sensibly, but she couldn’t. If Frank were to learn from Ma that the baby was buried in the grave of Mr Rich Man’s wife, as he called Nathan, then he might well do as Ma asked. What if he confronted Nathan, and he got angry and flung back at Frank that he’d made love to Molly and the baby she was carrying could equally well be his?
For the next few days she worried herself sick, picking at her food and causing Cath to say, ‘If you’re not careful you’ll starve that baby to death.’
With that Molly forced herself to eat and tried to put her anxieties to the back of her mind, but every time the postman was due she expected to see the priest’s letter to Frank come through the letter box. She would burn it, she decided. The trouble with that, though, was that Ma was bound to ask him whether it had arrived or not.
A letter, though, was still conspicuous by its absence when Frank’s ship docked and he breezed into the house. ‘How’s my best girl?’ He put his arms round Molly, hugging her gently.
‘Fine,’ she said, wishing she could be overwhelmingly pleased to see him.
He scanned her face, frowning. ‘You don’t look fine.’
‘I am. It’s just that I get worried sometimes about the baby.’
‘You’re not to worry. This one’ll be a bruiser. Are you eating properly? No strange fancies?’ He smiled at her lovingly.
She forced herself to return the smile. ‘Depends what you mean by fancies. I have yearnings for pickled beetroot. Do you want something to eat now? Was it a good trip?’ She didn’t like the fact that he was so solicitous of her. It made her want to burst into tears or blurt out the truth, and she must never do that. She wriggled out of his arms and went over to the fireplace.
‘What’s this?’ said Frank.
Molly glanced over her shoulder and saw him pick up the lectern fall she was working on. She had already decided on the line she was going to take over her work. ‘Oh, that. It’s for the church,’ she said casually. ‘You didn’t know I was a fine embroiderer, did you, luv?’
‘No. But the machine… where did that come from?’
She decided this time she had to tell the truth. ‘It’s mine. I left it at Mr Collins’s house in Blundellsands, though. I’d forgotten about it but Doris brought it here when Mr Collins sent me the money for looking after Jessica that day.’
‘So he paid you? How much?’
Molly told him. ‘I’ve put it away for the baby.’
Frank frowned. ‘Put it in the poor box. I can provide for my own child.’
She was annoyed. ‘Frank! You said I earned that money, I don’t want to give it away.’
‘You heard me, Moll.’ His mouth set in a hard line. ‘Do as you’re told. And while we’re at it – I don’t mind you working for the church but if it’s that that’s making you look peaky all over again, then you can stop it.’
Stop the work she loved? She decided to give him something else to think about. ‘I told you, I’m fine! Or I would be if Ma hadn’t called and upset me.’
‘Upset you?’ He pulled off one boot. ‘Tell me something new.’
‘She wants to have the baby moved.’
‘What baby?’ He looked bewildered.
‘Our baby, Frank. She wants to dig her up and transfer her coffin to the Catholic cemetery. I tell you, I haven’t been able to sleep since she told me she was out at Burscough. The priest’s going to write asking your permission but I don’t want little Mabel disturbed, Frank.’ Tears welled up in Molly’s eyes and she flung herself into his arms.
‘OK, luv, OK! Hush now.’ He stroked her hair. ‘Don’t get yourself worked up.’
‘I can’t help it, Frank. She brought it all back to me. The pain and the loss and me alone without you…’
‘OK, luv. I’ll speak to her.’
‘And you’ll write to the priest? I can give you his name and address.’
He sighed. ‘OK. I’ll write to the priest. But you’ve got to try and understand Ma. She lost a few babies herself, you know.’
Molly did not want to know that. She did not want to think about Ma having suffered, needing sympathy and understanding. But she was not going to tell him that and so made noises that could be taken for sympathy.
The two days they spent together were enjoyable and Cath kept out of the way. They went to see a show at the Rotunda and had a good laugh. Molly was able to forget her worries for a while. When he returned to sea she was in a much better frame of mind.
Mrs Arkwright was pleased with her work and sent her more. Molly placed the money she earned in a jam jar with the gold sovereigns, having prised up a floorboard in the corner of the empty bedroom. She found time to visit Doris in Blundellsands and her heart swelled with pride as she played Patacake, patacake with her daughter, who was able to say more words now and was walking with confidence.
The weeks passed without sight nor sound of Ma, much to Molly’s relief. Whatever Frank had said to her it must really have hit home. He docked next in time for the May Day celebrations and the pair of them went to town to see the annual horse parade, standing amongst the crowds watching the decorated floats and beribboned horses go. Then he returned to sea.
A week later the country was thrown into mourning when the King died from a pulmonary infection. ‘The King is dead, long live the King’, blazoned one newspaper. George V and his consort Mary now ruled Great Britain and its Empire.
The next day Molly went into labour.
She was alone in the house when her pains started because Cath was late arriving home. Feeling in need of another woman, Molly hurried over to Mrs McNally’s house.
‘Come in, luv. Started, has it?’ she said sympathetically.
‘I need someone to go for the midwife.’
‘That’s all right, luv. I’ll send one of the kids out the street. Then I’ll come back with yer to your place.’
A girl was soon despatched and Mrs McNally accompanied Molly home, describing her own second labour graphically.
An hour passed and there was no sign of the midwife. The girl reappeared, breathless. ‘She’s broke her leg! She can’t come.’
‘Why didn’t she let me know?’ said Molly, fear darting through her as she shifted her bulk uncomfortably.
‘Now yer not to start worryin’, girl. I’ll pop out and get Gert. She does for some round here,’ said Mrs McNally, patting her shoulder.
Molly had met Gert at the wash house. She was an untidy, skinny woman with a cigarette stuck permanently to her lower lip. Her breath smelled not only of cigarettes but rum due to her habit of constantly calling in at one of the numerous pubs in the area which opened at six in the morning and didn’t close until midnight.
Molly moistened her lips which suddenly felt dry. ‘No! I’ve heard jangling in the wash house about her.’
‘Those tales are just to frighten yer, girl. Some women are like that,’ said Mrs McNally soothingly.
‘No,’ repeated Molly stubbornly.
The older woman looked exasperated. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers, girl.’ And with that she went out.
Molly knew the tales were probably exaggerated but she believed in the proverb ‘No smoke without fire’. She walked up and down, wondering what to do, but it was enough coping with her contractions without finding another midwife at such short notice.
Mrs McNally reappeared, accompanied by Gert.
Molly looked at her and her heart sank. ‘I’ve been told you’ve killed more mothers and babies than you’ve had hot dinners,’ she said unsteadily. ‘How do I know those tales aren’t true?’
‘Well, I haven’t had that many hot dinners, queen.’ Gert spoke out of the corner of her mouth, cigarette bobbing up and down in time with the words. ‘You shouldn’t be listening to gossip.’
A sharp laugh escaped Molly. ‘I haven’t got cloth ears and some people have loud voices!’
‘Then yer don’t want to believe everything yer hear.’ Gert rolled up her sleeves. ‘Yer looking bad and beggars can’t be choosers.’
‘I’m not begging!’ Molly’s eyes flashed with anger but the pain came again, causing her to groan. She picked up a cup and flung it at the woman.
Gert ducked and crossed herself before grabbing Molly’s arm. ‘Help me here, Eileen. She’s getting hysterical.’
Molly wrenched her arm out the woman’s grasp and leaned, panting, against the table. ‘Don’t you touch me!’
The door opened and to her relief Cath entered. To everyone’s surprise she was followed by Ma. ‘As if I didn’t have enough on me plate,’ whispered Molly.
Ma glanced at the two women then looked at her daughter-in-law. ‘Having trouble, girl? You started?’
‘Yes to both.’ She was thinking that at least Ma wanted the baby born safely. ‘And I don’t want this woman here. I don’t trust her.’ Molly turned to Gert, saying almost triumphantly, ‘This is my mother-in-law and you won’t get anything past her. Make her wash her hands, Ma.’
‘Don’t you be worrying, girl. I’ll see yer all right.’
Within seconds Molly was half-carried upstairs between Cath and her mother. She was helped on to the bed, undressed and told to rest. She tried to relax but could not for wondering what was going on between Gert and Ma. The door opened but it was only Cath. ‘Where’s Ma?’ asked Molly.
‘She’s standing over that woman while she washes her hands like you asked. You OK?’ Molly groaned as another contraction made itself felt, trying to curl herself up into a ball. Cath swallowed and looked nervous. ‘Is it really bad, Moll?’
‘Don’t ask bloody stupid questions!’
‘Sorry. But I don’t know what to do.’ There was a knock and Gert entered with Ma. ‘Let’s be having a look at yer,’ said the former.
‘Let me look at your hands?’ Molly pushed herself up on her elbows.
‘Come on, girl! I stood over her while she scrubbed them,’ rasped Ma. ‘Yer can trust me.’
Could she really? thought Molly wistfully, knowing the woman held no love for her. But she had no choice but to submit to the examination.
‘Well?’ she demanded. ‘How far gone am I?’
‘Yer’ve got some way to go yet, girl,’ replied Gert, before dragging on Ma’s sleeve and whispering in her ear. The two of them left the room.
Molly felt like screaming after them, ‘Say what you’ve got to say in front of me.’ But she felt certain she would be wasting her breath. She lost all track of time, existing in what felt like a circle of ever-increasing agony. She was aware of Cath by the bedside and reached out a hand to her. The girl took it and Molly gripped it tightly, unaware that she dug her fingernails in when the pain was really bad.
Cath disappeared for a while and Ma came and sat with her, mumbling over her rosary beads. Molly thought, I’m going to die! and was relieved when Cath reappeared and Ma left. The pain went on and on. Molly felt she was getting nowhere. She began to worry about the baby, gnawing on her lip so hard she could taste blood in her mouth.
The chirping of sparrows signalled the dawn and Cath whispered that she needed to go to the lavatory again. The two older women entered and Gert examined Molly once more, going outside with Ma Payne afterwards just as she had before. Something was wrong, Molly just knew it. As if in a dream she heard the familiar sounds of people going about their business in the street below but she was drifting on a sea of pain.
The door opened and Cath came back in. ‘How are you feeling, Moll? Someone’s come for Ma. Our Josie’s gone and cut herself and is bleeding all over the place. Ma’s going to have to go. And I should be leaving for work now.’
‘I’m going to die,’ whispered Molly.
‘Don’t think like that.’ Cath’s mouth trembled.
‘Can’t help it. It’s taking too long and the pain’s so bad.’ She clutched at Cath’s sleeve. ‘You must do something for me. Ask Jimmy to tell Nathan – Mr Collins – the baby is—’ Her words were cut off as she screamed, pain gnawing inside her like a rat.
Cath stared down at her in horror. Gert and Mrs McNally came hurrying in. Cath brushed past them and dashed downstairs and out of the house, running as fast as she could in the direction ofVauxhall Road. She had overheard her mother saying the baby was the wrong way round and that was why Moll was having such a difficult time. She had lied to her about Josie. Ma had gone in search of a priest to baptise the baby in case it died. Poor, poor Moll! But Cath wasn’t ready yet to give up on her. The two girls were getting on very well living together, better than either of them had imagined. Cath did not want to return to her mother’s house.
Breath burning in her chest, she reached the candle factory. She ran through the door and banged on the counter. Jimmy’s head poked through the hatch and he stared at her in surprise. ‘What are you doing here, luv?’
She was so puffed she could hardly get the words out. ‘Mr Collins! Molly’s going to die if something isn’t done.’
He came out from behind the partition and put an arm round her. ‘Is it the baby?’
‘Of course it’s the bloody baby!’ she cried. ‘Those old women can’t cope.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Jimmy, she’s in such pain. And she sent me to tell you to tell Mr Collins about the baby.’ She pushed him. ‘Go on! Tell him if he doesn’t do something – get her a doctor or a better midwife – she’ll die!’
Jimmy’s mouth fell open. ‘You mean there is something between him and her? That the baby…?’
‘It must be that, mustn’t it, if she’s thinking of him and not our Frank at such a time? And there was us not really believing it.’ She poked him in the stomach. ‘Go on! He’s got to help her.’
Without another word Jimmy went running up the corridor.