A weary Molly stumbled painfully up the step to Ma’s house and hammered on the front door. She kept on hammering until a window opened overhead and Ma’s voice shouted down, ‘Who the hell is it?’
‘It’s me, Molly, with George. Open up and let us in.’
‘Wharra yer doing here at this time of night?’
‘I’m not telling the whole street. Let me in!’ Despite her anguish Molly had desperately tried to think up a reason for arriving at such a time but her brain felt fuddled after the scene with Nathan and she could only hope inspiration would strike when she needed it.
The door opened and Ma stood there in a flannelette nightgown, her greying hair in plaits. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Don’t ask,’ said Molly, wincing as she stepped over the threshold. ‘My arms are breaking.’
Ma took George from her and went on ahead with him into the kitchen.
Molly fell on to the sofa. The pain in her shoulder was worse than ever and her feet throbbed rhythmically, almost in time with the agony in her shoulder.
‘Here! Yer’ll have to have him back while I light the mantle,’ said Ma.
Molly cuddled her son, who seemed to be taking the night’s adventure in his stride. He was awake and as she heard the faint hiss of the gas and the pop as it ignited she caught the gleam of his eyes. Poor little mite, she thought, he must be wondering what’s going on.
‘What is it? What are you doing here, girl?’ said Ma, sitting opposite her. ‘Looking for our Cath, were yer? Been and gone she has.’
‘There was a man!’ Molly was easily able to conjure up a sob.
‘Hey, hey! We’ll have no tears here.’ Ma scowled at her. ‘What have yer been up to while my lad’s locked away?’
‘I haven’t been up to anything. Would I have George with me if I was up to something, like you say?’ Molly’s voice shook. ‘Would I be coming to you?’
‘Yeah, well,’ said the old woman grudgingly. ‘I can see yer upset.’
‘Can I have a drink of water?’
Ma sniffed. ‘You been drinking?’
‘Communion wine.’
‘Well, yer’ve got legs. Give me George here. Yer know where the tap is. I’m not going to be fetching and carrying for yer, girl.’
Molly handed her son over and hobbled towards the scullery. ‘What’s wrong with yer? Yer walking all funny. This man didn’t get to yer, did he?’
Molly gulped down the water. ‘No, thank God! But he frightened me so much I just grabbed George and ran,’ she said, reentering the kitchen.
‘Was this in the house?’
‘No. On the lockfields by the canal. I’ve had to pawn the pram so I was taking a short cut. I was half-carrying, half-walking George when he came up to me and started talking.’ She had no idea where this idea came from.
‘Yer shouldn’t be going down there. It’s looking for trouble. Yer haven’t been seeing that bargee, have yer?’ Ma’s tone was filled with suspicion.
Molly realised she’d talked herself into trouble and needed to think fast. ‘God give me strength, Ma!’ she said angrily. ‘My feet are killing me and I come to you for help and all you do is accuse me of betraying Frank. Would I come to you if that were true? I can do without all these questions.’
‘All right. Keep yer hair on,’ she muttered. ‘Have you any old sheeting? George needs changing and I’ll have to bandage my feet.’ Ma grunted. ‘Yer nothin’ but trouble. But I’ll see what I can do.’
Molly removed her boots and then had to pull the feet of her stockings gently away from the skin where blood had caused the cotton to stick. Ma handed over some bits of rag, watching Molly as she bound the ruptured blisters.
‘I thought yer’d come because you were seeing sense at last.’
‘I had thought of staying.’ Molly glanced across at her mother-in-law, who sat cuddling George.
‘Yer’ll have to sleep with our Josie then. Yer haven’t give me notice, girl. I’ve still got me lodgers and I need their money.’
The last thing Molly wanted was to sleep with her sister-in-law.
Ma frowned down at her feet. ‘They’re a mess! You must have really got the wind up. Although I’m surprised you didn’t scarper off to that Mrs McNally’s.’
‘I ran into church then decided not go home in case he was hanging around outside. I didn’t want him knowing where I lived!’ said Molly, lifting her head. ‘So I headed for Stanley Road and just kept on walking.’
There was silence. Molly had a feeling Ma wasn’t convinced.
‘Have yer got any money?’
‘How much d’you want?’ parried Molly.
‘I need yer keep. I’m not made of money.’ Ma held out her hand, palm upwards. ‘Yer’ve pawned the pram. Yer must have something.’ There was a crafty expression on her face.
Molly hadn’t expected this so soon. ‘I’ve had to pay the rent and buy coal and food! I’ve nothing on me.’
‘Well, that was stupid, coming here with nowt!’
‘I am your son’s wife and expected to be welcomed!’ She tossed her hair back, eyes flashing. ‘I can easily take George back home now I know Cath’ll be there.’
‘Hold on, hold on! Wasn’t it my idea yer’d come to live here? I can wait. Yer can pawn that machine of yours to pay me.’
‘I’ve a living to earn,’ Molly said shortly, thinking of Mrs Arkwright and the job she had been offered. She could have wept for the future that might have been hers.
‘Our Frank’s not going to like yer working.’
‘I don’t like it that he’s in gaol,’ said Molly wearily, thinking the hour was too late for this kind of discussion. ‘Why don’t you go to bed and we’ll talk in the morning? Me and George’ll stay down here.’
Ma thrust out her chin. ‘No, yer won’t, girl. I’m not having you making the lodgers’ eyes pop out when they comes down in the morning.’
Molly gave in, too exhausted to argue. It had been quite a day.
‘What’s she doing here?’ demanded Josie, slumping in the chair opposite Molly and folding her arms across her high stomach.
Molly yawned, still tired, having spent an uncomfortable night in the double bed which the two sisters had once shared, with George sprawled asleep on top of her. Josie had spread her not inconsiderable bulk across most of the bed too so, although Molly had slept heavily for a few hours, she had woken early and in some discomfort.
‘Did yer hear what I said?’ said Josie when she received no answer.
‘I explained to you when I accidentally woke you up,’ said Molly.
‘Don’t remember. So why are yer here?’
‘She’s come to stay ’cos she’s seen sense, so shurrup!’ said Ma.
Josie fell silent, breathing noisily through her nose as she crunched into a slice of toast, eyes fixed on George. ‘That babby doesn’t look like our Frank.’
Molly felt the colour rise in her cheeks. ‘Don’t be daft! Of course he looks like him,’ said Ma. ‘It’s just that he’s only little and our Frank’s a grown man. He’s his own little self.’ She beamed across at George. ‘Aren’t yer, boy? And him and his pa and us are gonna be one big happy family.’
‘Our Frank’s not going to be living here, too, is he?’There was dismay in Josie’s voice.
‘Of course he is!’ Ma flicked her with the tea towel across the head. ‘He’s a good boy is our Frank.’
‘He used to sit on me. I couldn’t breathe.’
‘That’s because yer never shurrup. Another word and I’ll give yer a good clout.’ There was silence for which Molly was grateful. She wished she could go to sleep for a week. The quiet was short-lived. Josie was soon saying gleefully, ‘Frank’s in prison. He can’t live here.’
‘What did I say to yer, girl?’ demanded Ma, clouting her across the head.
‘Not on the head,’ protested Molly, stirring herself to care. ‘No wonder she’s the way she is, poor thing.’
Josie began to blubber. Ma gave her another clout. ‘Stop that noise.’ She turned on Molly and said wrathfully, ‘See what yer’ve done? Give her a bit of sympathy and she feels sorry for herself.’
‘Nobody loves me,’ moaned Josie, rocking to and fro.
‘And nobody ever will if yer carry on making that racket.’
‘You shouldn’t hit her on the head,’ Molly insisted, wiping George’s face with a piece of rag.
‘Keep yer nose out of it, girl. I know best how to handle me own daughter.’ Her mother-in-law glowered at her.
‘No wonder Cath left,’ she murmured.
‘Yer another one who can’t shurrup!’ yelled Ma across the table. ‘Yer might as well sling yer hook then! I can’t be doing with busybodies in me own house.’
Molly could scarcely believe her ears, thinking of the way Ma had interfered in so many people’s lives. ‘If anybody’s a busybody, it’s you.’
Josie gasped. ‘The cheek of her, Ma! She should keep her nose to herself, shouldn’t she?’
Molly laughed. ‘I was sticking up for you, you soft thing.’
‘Ma, she called me soft!’ Josie clutched her mother’s sleeve. ‘Shall I hit her?’
‘I heard her. And there’s only one person allowed to do that and that’s me. So get out!’ ordered Ma, shooting out one skinny arm and digging Molly in the chest.
‘I knew it wouldn’t work,’ she said, relieved.
‘And I knew yer wouldn’t last here long. D’yer think I believed all that rubbish yer spouted last night? Yer’ve been up to something. Got yerself a man.’
‘You can believe what you like.’ Molly stood up with George in her arms. ‘See you again sometime. Thanks for the breakfast.’ She got up and limped out of the house, thinking that in the light of day her fear of Nathan’s taking George from her was nonsense.
Church bells were ringing as Molly passed the butcher’s on the corner of Aintree Street. St Matthew’s or St Anthony’s must be having bell ringing practice, she thought. Either that or someone was getting married. It was a while since she’d been to church, having felt too much of a sinner. She wondered whether Cath would be in but it didn’t really matter. The key was on the string behind the door and as soon as she was in she would put her feet up. Oh, blissful thought!
Molly was just removing her boots when Cath burst into the kitchen. ‘So you’ve come home! I wasn’t sure if you’d done a vanishing act like you did when you left Ma’s that time.’ She plonked herself on a chair and scowled at Molly. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘You didn’t ask Mrs McNally?’
‘Yeah, but she was cagey, just like you’re being now. So where were you? Golly, why are your feet all bandaged?’
Molly gritted her teeth as she unwound the rags. ‘Too much walking. I spent the night at Ma’s. But she’s hopping mad with me now because I’ve come home again. Her idea yesterday was that the pair of us should live with her.’
‘I know, she’s mentioned it. Barmy! But you weren’t there when I called, so where were you?’
‘At a friend’s.’
Cath fixed her with a stare. ‘I didn’t know you had any women friends. And what about George? You didn’t take him with you to see our Frank. You must have been chasing your tail going backwards and forwards. Why don’t you try telling me the truth?’
Molly thought she might be needing Cath’s help so said, ‘OK, I went to Mr Collins’s house in Blundellsands but I ran away. A little habit of mine. I did stay at Ma’s. I’m not going to tell you what happened at Mr Collins’s but we won’t be seeing each other again. Although he just might turn up here asking for George. You mustn’t let him in.’
Cath gave her a funny look. ‘He’s gone away. Didn’t he tell you? Gone off to play soldiers, Jimmy said.’
Molly dropped the bandage. She had been frightened for nothing! She had forgotten it was that time of year. Why hadn’t Nathan said? Had he forgotten in the heat of the moment? Or was it because he knew that by the time he returned from training camp Frank would be out of prison and it would be so much more difficult for her to do as he’d asked? He must have decided in an instant. Now he was gone, away for a month believing she had never loved him but still loved Frank. Molly put her head in her hands and wept.
‘Come on, drink this up. It’s not the end of the world.’ Cath touched her shoulder and said with a trace of embarrassment, ‘It might feel like it but people really don’t die of broken hearts. So he doesn’t love you anymore! Perhaps that’s a good thing. You can get your marriage back together again when our Frank comes out.’
Molly pushed back her hair and wiped a hand over her wet face. What was the use of telling Cath she had it all wrong? Still, perhaps Nathan didn’t love her anymore now. She sipped the scalding tea, wondering whether once the strike was over she would still get sewing work from the factory. Who was going to be in charge while he was away and Charlotte in London? She would ask Jimmy. In the meantime she needed to visit Frank before Ma got to him and told him her tale. Perhaps Cath was right and her heart wouldn’t break? Her feet were another matter. She gazed down at them, knowing she would have to rest them for a few days at least.
Fortunately for Molly the trams were running within days as were the trains. The dockers went back but there was no work for Molly. When she asked Jimmy he told her Mrs Awkwright was staying on until they found someone else to take over her job but she’d said there wasn’t enough work to be sent out. Molly wondered if that was true or whether Nathan had given orders to provide her with no more. Perhaps she was going to have to do what Ma had suggested and pawn her sewing machine.
In the meantime she awaited with trepidation her visit to Frank, having reached the conclusion that only the truth would serve her. Well, some of it.
Her husband looked more his old self, although he had lost some of his ruddy colour. ‘Not long now, Frank,’ she said brightly.
‘No, thank God!’ His fingers caressed hers. ‘How’ve you been? How’s Georgie?’
‘Fine. Ma been in?’ Molly was almost certain she hadn’t because then his smile wouldn’t have been so welcoming.
He shook his head. ‘Told her I didn’t want her coming here, getting upset. Have you seen her?’
‘I stayed the night at hers the other week.’ Molly took a deep breath. ‘And I’m sorry, Frank, but I told her a whopper because I just didn’t want her knowing all my business.’
He stared at her, frowning. ‘Go on? What business is this?’
She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I went to Mr Collins’s house in Blundellsands. Now stay calm, Frank,’ she said, as he half rose in his chair. ‘I had George with me and I wasn’t on my own. Miss Braithwaite, who owns half the business, was there and so was his mother.’
He sat down again, both of them aware that the warden had taken a step towards them. ‘So?’
‘Remember me telling you Mr Barnes, his uncle, left me some money? Well, that wasn’t exactly the truth.’ Molly fiddled with a button on her coat, wishing she didn’t have to say the next bit. ‘He left me shares in the company.’
A muscle at the side of Frank’s jaw tightened and the expression in his eyes suddenly reminded her of Ma. ‘You’ve kept that a secret all this time? It’s not bloody well on, Moll! I’m starting to think I can’t trust you.’
‘I did it for George. I knew you’d want me to cash them and then they’d be gone. As it is, I have a regular amount of money coming in that I can depend on. Unless, of course, the company collapses, but that hasn’t happened yet.’
‘So you’re telling me you’ve had money from these shares coming in and kept quiet about it?’ His voice was dangerously low.
Colour flamed in her cheeks. ‘I know what you must be thinking, Frank. But I’m glad I did it because I’d been saving the money for George’s future and it’s only that and my job that’s kept us going for the last few months.’
‘Your job?’ He squeezed her fingers so hard she felt sure he was cutting off the blood supply.
‘You’re hurting me, Frank.’ Molly squirmed in her seat.
‘Too bloody right I’m hurting you,’ he growled. ‘What job’s this? What did I say about you working?’
‘It’s the sewing I do for the church,’ she gasped. ‘I get paid for it. Collins and Braithwaite don’t just make ecclesiastical candles. That’s why I was at Mr Collins’s house. He wanted to put me in charge of the Embroidery and Garment room at the factory. He thought it would help me out, with you in prison.’
‘We don’t need his money!’
‘Yes, we do. Ouch! That hurts!’ She glared at him and managed to pull her hand free. ‘Your pride isn’t going to keep the roof over our heads and put food on our table, Frank Payne.’
‘You’re determined to grind my self-respect into the ground, aren’t you?’ he snarled. ‘Thanks a bloody lot!’
‘You’re wrong! Have some commonsense. D’you want me and George in the workhouse? And don’t mention us going to Ma’s again because it just wouldn’t work. I’ve tried it, remember. In the meantime we’ve got to get by the best we can.’
‘OK! You’ve had your say. Now I’ll have mine. You’re not going to work at his factory.’
‘I turned the job down. Said you wouldn’t allow it.’
For a long time Frank stared at her, a frustrated expression on his face. Then he said abruptly, ‘The trouble with you is you’ve had too much of a free rein since we’ve been married. So I’m going to do what you asked me once: I’ll give up the sea.’
Her heart sank. How was she going to cope having him home all the time? So far she had been lucky but she could easily get pregnant with him always around. There was no chance of him being careful then. ‘What’ll you do?’ she whispered.
‘Get a job in the wash house.’ He hunched his shoulders. ‘Georgie’s growing, I should see more of him. Otherwise he won’t know who his father is.’
Molly’s heart missed a beat. She wondered what would happen if Nathan did turn up on her doorstep demanding to see his son. Perhaps she should just grab George as soon as she got home and make a run for it?
All the way there she was planning her escape. There was one gold sovereign left which she could pawn as well as her sewing machine. She would get the money and go…
Cath glanced over her shoulder as Molly entered the room. She was holding a sheet of newspaper in front of the grate, trying to draw in air from below to fan the slumbering embers into life. ‘George isn’t well,’ she said.
Molly glanced at her son where he lay curled up on the sofa. His cheeks were flushed and his eyelids drooped. He was sucking his thumb. She placed a hand against his forehead and was shocked to feel how hot and dry it was. Fear cut through her like a hot wire. ‘He’s burning up!’
‘He was like that when I picked him up from Mrs McNally’s.’ Cath folded the newspaper. ‘That little girl was there too. The one Doris is nursemaid to. Pretty little thing. But then, we could all look good if we had money like that.’
‘Was she mopey? Burning up like this?’ Molly’s imagination ran amok, Lord! What if she lost both her children?
‘No. She was dancing round the kitchen, singing and making us laugh by pulling faces. She reminded me of someone but I couldn’t think who…’
Frank, thought Molly, feeling another stab of fear. Then she told herself it was no use worrying about that, George was more important right now. ‘I’m going to have to watch him. I’ll keep him in bed with me tonight.’
Molly spent a restless night and in the morning her son was still feverish and burning hot. Sweat out a fever, she thought, but it seemed crazy, piling clothes on to the bed and making him hotter still. She decided to act on her instincts and sponged him down with cold water, continuing to do so most of the day. The two nights that followed he was so fretful and hot she could not rest. But on the fourth day when morning came she noticed immediately that his face was covered in spots. She struggled into a sitting position and lifted his nightgown. More spots. He opened his eyes and smiled sleepily up at her. She returned his smile and felt his forehead. It was still hot but also slightly damp.
Molly scrambled out of bed. ‘You stay there, sweetheart. I’m going to fetch Mrs McNally. She’ll know what’s wrong with you.’ It could be measles or perhaps scarlet fever. She didn’t have the experience to tell.
‘Yeah. It’s measles all right,’ said the older woman as soon as she set eyes on George. ‘Yer’ll need to keep him in with the curtains closed. It can affect the eyes.’
So there could be no running away just yet, thought Molly with a sinking heart. Fortunately Cath was back at work so they had some money coming in. As well as that the neighbours, sympathetic to her plight and thinking well of Frank, gave her little gifts of tea, sugar, milk and potatoes, while Mrs McNally brought in the odd bowl of soup or a couple of bacon ribs.
Molly was grateful even though she did not feel like eating. George’s throat was terribly red and sore which resulted in a hacking cough. She pawned her last sovereign and called in the doctor. He prescribed a cough linctus and told her to give the boy plenty of drinks.
Mrs McNally dropped by the same day to say Doris had been on a flying visit. ‘Little Jessica seems to be sickening for something. So I told her about George.’
Poor child, thought Molly, hoping she wasn’t suffering as much as her brother. ‘Is Mr Collins still away? And how’s Mrs Collins?’
‘Oh, he’ll be back any day now. As for the old woman, Doris says she’s fine if a bit confused. I was to tell yer as well that Charlie’s working there now.’
‘Charlie! You mean Charlie McGuire?’ Molly’s eyes widened in amazement. ‘How’s that come about?’
Mrs McNally grinned. ‘Our Doris has been trying to get him a job there for ages but it was only the morning Mr Collins went away he said Charlie could come. That maybe it would be a good thing to have a handyman around the place. He does a bit of everything, does Charlie. Marvellous when yer think he’s only got one hand. Nice bloke.’
Molly wondered if wedding bells were in the air but kept quiet. A couple of days later Ma turned up. It seemed she had heard about George and was prepared to forget their differences. Unfortunately half an hour later Molly had another unexpected visitor. ‘Uncle Jack!’ she said in amazement on opening the door.
The bargee’s weatherbeaten face creased into a smile. ‘I heard through our Rob that thy little lad had the measles so I brought him a slate and chalks to keep him happy while he’s stuck in.’
‘That’s kind of you,’ said Molly, hesitating only a moment before inviting him in.
As soon as he entered the kitchen it was obvious Ma’s suspicions were aroused. Jack’s attire proclaimed the bargee. She cleared her throat noisily. ‘Who’s this then?’
Molly realised there was nothing for it but to make the introductions. ‘Uncle Jack, this is my mother-in-law, Mrs Payne. Ma, this is Jack Fletcher. He was a friend of my parents.’
‘Yerra bargee?’ said Ma.
‘Aye, I am that, missus.’
‘Seen plenty of yous lot out Bootle where I live.’
‘Happen the canal goes through there,’ he said with a smile, sitting alongside George and handing him the slate.
As she poured him a cup of tea Molly felt certain Ma was putting two and two together and coming to the wrong conclusion. Why had she been so stupid as to mention the lockfields and a man that evening? Perhaps it had been the wine that had caused her to say such things?
‘Mamma, duck!’ said George.
‘He’s quick, lass,’ said Jack.
‘That’s a new word for him. You’ve been good for him.’
He grinned. ‘I don’t know about that.’The man drained his cup. ‘I’d like to stay, lass, but I’ll have to be going. Have a schedule to keep to.’
Molly saw him out.
‘Don’t say it, Ma,’ she warned as she went back inside.
The old woman sniffed, getting to her feet. ‘Don’t yer worry, girl. I’m saving all what I’ve got to say until my boy comes home.’
‘I thought you might.’ Molly tossed back her hair and folded her arms. ‘Well, there’s nothing in Uncle Jack’s being here, so put that in your pipe and smoke it!’
‘I will, girl, don’t you worry. And I’ll see meself out.’
‘No. I’ll see you out. I want to make sure you’ve gone!’
Affronted, Ma marched out of the house.
After that all the fight went out of Molly and she collapsed on the sofa. Trouble, that’s what she faced when Frank came home. Trouble with a capital T. Should she scarper? Where could she go? The money from the sovereign was gone. Perhaps it was time to face up to life as it really was? She had flung at Nathan the fact that she had made vows before God. Perhaps it was time she seriously set about honouring those vows? Many of the neighbours considered Frank some kind of hero. He deserved a hero’s welcome. If nothing else it might get her off the hook.
It was with this thought in mind that Molly flung herself into Frank’s arms as soon as she set eyes on him. ‘I’m so glad you’re home, luv. I’ve done your favourite dinner: spare ribs, fried potatoes and cabbage.’ She gave him a dazzling smile.
He held her at arm’s length, his jaw set. ‘I must go to prison more often. Only, would I be getting this kind of welcome if you didn’t have a guilty conscience over a certain bargee?’
Molly’s smile faded. ‘You went to Ma’s before coming here?’
‘It was on my way and I wanted her to know I was OK. I also wanted to know what it was you said to her.’
Molly turned away from him and went over to the fire. ‘She told me she didn’t believe me.’
‘She believes you’re a liar. And that you were down at the lockfields seeing that bargee!’ His expression was suddenly thunderous. ‘So what have you got to say for yourself, girl?’
Molly realised there was no point in getting angry. It would only ignite further fury in him. ‘Only what I’ve said before. Uncle Jack’s like a father to me.’ Her voice was low.
‘So you keep saying. Perhaps it’s a father you’re really looking for? Because your own pa died when you were only a little girl.’
Words suddenly rang in her head. A body could so easily go in. Afoot in a coil of rope. Splash! She shook her head to rid herself of the picture the words created. She cleared her throat and concentrated on Frank. ‘That’s not true. Of course I wish my father had lived, but I’m not looking for a father. You can believe what you want but it’s not true.’
‘I don’t know what to believe.’ Frank’s head drooped and he sounded hopeless all of a sudden.
‘Well, try believing something that makes sense. Do you think I’d go risking getting with child by another man when I’m scared out of my wits of such a thing?’ She took a step towards him. ‘Believe me, Frank.’ She placed a hand on his shoulder.
‘I want to believe you.’
Again she put her arms round him. ‘Believe me.’
He reached up and pulled her down on his knee and kissed her. Then, without a word, he lifted her up and carried her upstairs. She could only say weakly, ‘What about George? A couple of girls have taken him to the park. They might come back.’
‘Then they’ll knock and one of us’ll have to answer it.’
Molly said no more. She had put clean sheets on their bed in preparation and the smell of the wash house was on them. In a way it was like so many other times when he’d arrived home from sea but never had she felt she must prove to him that he was the only one in the world for her. It wasn’t true but her life wasn’t going to be worth living unless he believed it. She remembered the act she’d had to put on when the real Jessica had died and summoned up all her resources to convince him she really cared for him.
Later, as she watched him devour his food, Frank smiled across the table at her. ‘Another baby, Moll. That’s what you’re missing.’ She was silent, fingers tightening on her fork. Her son’s illness had gone some way to convincing her that another baby mightn’t be such a bad thing. If she had lost George her arms would have felt empty indeed. Still she was scared. ‘George needs a brother or sister,’ continued Frank. ‘And I’ll be around to help you now. I won’t let you die, Moll.’
She half-smiled, thinking, He believes he’s God now. ‘What about getting a job?’
‘My old priest came to visit me in prison and I told him what I planned. He brought me paper and envelopes and the like and saw that my letters got into the right hands.’ She was impressed by his determination. ‘So which wash house are you going to?’
‘Burrough’s Gardens.’
Molly stared at him. ‘But that’s local!’
‘That’s what I want. I’ll be able to come home in the middle of the day and see you and George.’ His eyes glinted at her. ‘Be a proper father to him, and husband to you.’
She said lightly, ‘If I thought, Frank, you were only doing this to keep an eye on me, I’d be really cross.’
‘Molly, sweetheart!’ He reached out across the table to her. ‘I want to be with you. What’s wrong with that? You should be pleased to have me around more. It’s what you’ve always said you wanted.’
She did not believe him. He didn’t trust her and for that she only had herself to blame.
Shortly afterwards he left the house. She expected him back in an hour or two but he was still out when the girls brought George home and Mrs McNally dropped by.
‘I’ve been up at the wash house. Your Frank’s there. All the women are making a fuss of him, saying he’s a hero for going to prison. He’s lapping it up. Singing along with the Mary Ellens, putting on the Irish as if he was one of them. “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen” and all that. It’s a real turn up for the book, isn’t it, him getting a job there? Yer have to be pleased, girl?’
‘I do, don’t I?’ She smiled, thinking if she had to force a smile anymore that day her face would crack.
Frank swaggered home four hours later with a grin almost as big as a banana on his face. ‘And where’ve you been?’ Molly said quietly, placing his supper plate on the table.
‘Started work right away. Doesn’t that make you happy, Moll? Money coming in at last.’
‘Deliriously.’
‘Then where’s your smile?’ he teased, prodding her gently on the back of the hand with his fork.
She snatched her hand away just as Cath walked through the door.
His sister stopped abruptly on seeing Frank. ‘So you’re home?’
‘And got a job.’
‘Already?’ She looked relieved. ‘When d’you sail?’
‘Tell her, Moll. Tell her that her big brother is going to be around from now on so there’ll be no messing about with that Jimmy in this house.’ Cath’s face fell and without a word she turned and left. ‘Perhaps she’ll get Jimmy to marry her now. Or go back to Ma’s,’ said Frank.
But Cath did neither and Molly was relieved she was staying, not wanting to be alone with Frank in the evenings.
In the days that followed she was on pins. Jimmy had told her that Nathan had returned from training camp so she half-expected him to turn up on her doorstep. His knowing Frank was home just might drive him to do something crazy, such as demanding his son and flinging her misdemeanour in Frank’s face. But weeks passed and there was still no sign of him.
Then one murky October Sunday Cath arrived home from an outing with Jimmy.
‘Have you heard?’ she said.
‘Heard what? You and Jimmy tying the knot?’
Cath said with a smile, ‘I’m working on it. I thought you might have seen Doris. I only said hello. It’s Jimmy who told me the news but she’ll probably know more. Maybe she’ll drop in?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Molly untied her apron.
Cath glanced around. ‘Our Frank out?’
‘He’s taken George down to the Pierhead to see the ships so you can say what you want.’
Cath’s expression sobered. ‘There’s a rumour going round the factory that Mr Collins and Miss Braithwaite are getting married.’
Molly sat down abruptly, her apron falling to the floor. For a moment she was devoid of speech before managing to catch her breath. ‘It’s only a rumour then?’
Cath nodded and said uncomfortably, ‘But perhaps it’s just as well he marries someone else, Moll? It’ll help you to put all you felt for him out of your heart.’
Molly stared at her then laughed. ‘You’ve no idea! I’ll go and see Doris.’ She almost ran out of the house and over to Mrs McNally’s.
Doris opened the front door and immediately the light in her eyes dimmed. ‘Yer’d best come in. I thought it wouldn’t take long before yer heard.’
‘It’s true then?’ said Molly, a tremor in her voice.
‘Yeah. I don’t think it’s a love match, though,’ she said hastily. ‘It’s for expediency. Or that’s the word Charlie used.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Doris screwed up her face. ‘I think it means useful. Her being a suffragette, she doesn’t like men that much, does she? Come and have a cup of tea and I’ll tell yer all about it.’ She linked her arm through Molly’s and dragged her into the kitchen.
‘She’s told yer then about her and Charlie?’ said Mrs McNally, sitting with her other daughters, skirts turned up, warming her legs in front of the fire. ‘I don’t know where the money’s coming from for the do.’
‘You and Charlie!’ Molly turned to her friend. ‘You two are getting married as well?’
She nodded, facing her mother. ‘And, Ma, I’ve told you not to worry. Me and Charlie’ll see to it all. He’s got a bit of money put by. We don’t want too much of a fuss – him with only one hand and me with me bow legs. It’d be like a freak show.’
Molly was feeling terrible but she squeezed Doris’s hand. ‘I think it’s lovely! Best news I’ve heard for a long time. When’s it to be?’
‘Spring, of course.’
‘And Mr Collins’s wedding?’
Doris’s expression changed and she said with dismay, ‘I thought you said you knew? They’re already married, luv. By special licence yesterday.’
Molly’s heart seemed to turn to stone. Her whole body felt numb. It was all over then. Nathan didn’t love her and would not be claiming George. With Charlotte he could have another son. And where that would leave Jessica she didn’t want to think about.