Molly sat back on her heels at the bottom of the front step, eyes screwed up as she gazed up the lane, scrubbing brush dripping water down her arm. Was that Nathan? It was two days since she had last seen him. She dropped the scrubbing brush in the galvanised bucket and shaded her eyes with her hand. Yes, it was him! She scrambled to her feet, wiping her hands on her apron, aware that the curtains in the house across the road twitched and several of the neighbours stopped gossiping and were watching her every move.
‘Mrs Payne.’ Nathan inclined his head, doffing his straw boater. ‘Everything all right with you?’
‘Fine. Just awaiting your orders.’ Her eyes were bright with expectation as she took in his smart appearance.
He twirled the hat between his hands and grinned. ‘Get packing.’
She thought he wasn’t bad-looking when he remembered to smile, and returned it. ‘I want to take my mother’s sewing machine. It’ll come in handy. Nanna’s furniture I’ll need to get rid of.’
‘I’ll see to all that. You leave today and I’ll follow on in a few days. I’ll square everything with your landlord.’
‘Do I go straight to Mr Barnes’s house?’ ‘That’s what he wants.’ Nathan’s expression clouded and his eyes were thoughtful. ‘You’re going to have to cope with my mother too. I hope you won’t find yourself regretting this move, as I might?’
Molly groaned inwardly. She had forgotten about his mother. A picture of Ma Payne popped into her head and she wondered if she had exchanged the frying pan for the fire. ‘Is it a very big house?’ she stammered.
‘Big enough.’
‘Then I suppose there’s room for all of us.’
‘That’s my girl,’ he said, ramming his hat on the back of his head. He reached into a pocket, drew out some change and gave it to her. ‘Take the train from the Bridge to Southport and change there to the Liverpool line. Get off at Blundellsands. It’s only a short walk to the house. You’ve his address still?’
She nodded, thanking him as she placed the money in her apron pocket. Nathan strode off up the lane and she stood for a moment watching him, a delighted expression on her face. That vision of Jessica dancing in a lace frock floating before her eyes. There was no need to worry about anything. Nathan would be there, seeing his mother didn’t get on her high horse where she was concerned.
Molly sauntered up the road which led to the sea, gazing about her with interest. She was in no hurry despite her burdens of baby and holdall. The breeze was bracing and she filled her lungs with the salty air, unaware of the glances she received from residents, servants and tradesmen going about their business.
On both sides of the road stood large houses in expansive gardens. It was here that many a businessman retreated at the end of a working day spent in the crowded, bustling, streets of Liverpool ten miles to the south along the coast. Molly passed Warren Road and was soon turning right. It was somewhere along here that Mr Barnes’s house was situated. She wondered whether to march up to the front door, carrying the alleged youngest member of the family, or go round to the back entrance. There would be servants to cope with and she could not help wondering where she would fit into the household.
Here it was. Falconstone. And very imposing it looked, too, with stone pillars decorating the porch and a long shrub-lined driveway. Molly felt suddenly nervous, wondering how she was going to cope with Mrs Collins. One thing was for sure: Nathan’s mother was not going to make her life easy.
There was a bell next to the door with a rope attached. It jangled discordantly as she tugged on the rope. No one came rushing to answer it. Perhaps there was nobody at home? Or maybe they were just round the back of the house. She pulled the rope again and listened. This time she heard footsteps and took a deep calming breath.
The door was yanked open. ‘Hey, yous! What d’yer think yer doing, ringing our bell? No hawkers or gypsies. No beggars either come to that!’ The voice was pure Scouse and nasal as they came.
‘I’m none of them,’ said Molly, relieved it wasn’t Mrs Collins, thinking this slip of a girl didn’t look anybody to be scared of, ‘I’m Mrs Payne and this here is Miss Jessica Collins. I think you’ll find we’re expected.’
‘You don’t look old enough to be a Mrs,’ scoffed the girl, her mousy hair barely contained by her white mob cap. Her head just about reached Molly’s shoulder and she wore a voluminous apron over a black frock which brushed the floor. She looked to be no more than fourteen or fifteen years old.
‘Well, I am,’ said Molly with a toss of the head. ‘I’m nineteen and a widow. So why don’t you shift yourself and let me in?’
‘Hummph!’ said the girl, narrowing herand folding her arms across her thin bosom. ‘Hoity-toity, aren’t we? How do I know yerroo yer say yer are and not a thief out to pinch the family silver?’
‘Do I look like a thief?’ said Molly indignantly. ‘You’re mad!’
‘Who is it, Doris?’ called a male voice, echoing round the high-ceilinged hall. ‘What have I told you, girl, about keeping people standing on the doorstep?’
‘Mr Barnes, it’s me!’ said Molly, trying to get round the maidservant. ‘Mr Collins sent me and Jessica on ahead.’
‘Come in, lass.’ There was warmth in the man’s voice.
‘See, he knows me!’ hissed Molly to Doris. ‘I’m not a thief. So get out of my way and let me through.’
‘Yer could have been,’ she said with a toss of the head, moving aside awkwardly.
Molly stepped into the hall and smiled at Mr Barnes, who was standing in the doorway of a room to her left, leaning on his stick. ‘How are you, sir?’
Before he could answer Mrs Collins’s face appeared at his shoulder like some malevolent spirit. ‘Look at the cut of her! What does she think she’s doing, carrying the baby tied to her like that?’ Her tone was scathing. ‘What’ll the neighbours think?’
‘Do you suppose they’ve nothing better to do than notice what’s going on here?’ He sounded exasperated as he beckoned Molly forward. ‘The girl looks worn out. I say send her to the kitchen and get Cook to provide her with a posset and a nice ham sandwich. But first let me have a hold of my great-niece. Did you buy those rubber pants, my dear?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Molly hurried over to him, untying her shawl as she went. She eased back the bonnet so he could gaze upon Jessica’s dainty features. ‘See how well she looks.’ His plump face creased with delight as he bent over the child. ‘She’s a little beauty. Reminds me of Mother, wouldn’t you say?’ A comment which caused Molly to marvel at the way people could deceive themselves.
‘Perhaps. Although I can’t see it myself,’ said Mrs Collins. ‘Anyway, girl, give the child to me.’ She glared at Molly, holding out both arms. ‘I want to see if you’ve been treating her properly.’
Reluctantly she handed her daughter over. ‘She’ll need feeding soon.’
‘Look at those bonny legs,’ said Mr Barnes, watching his sister inspect the baby’s limbs, even going so far as to lift her lacy white frock and shift and peer at her tummy. ‘Mrs Payne might be young but I think she knows what she’s doing. I’m looking forward to the day when Jessica’ll be dancing round this hall, cheering us all up.’
Molly thought how wonderful it was that his thoughts should run along the same lines as her own and stood smiling at him, reluctant to leave her baby in Mrs Collins’s hands.
Mr Barnes glanced at Molly. ‘You don’t have to wait. Get yourself to the kitchen, my dear, and see Cook. Doris will show you the way. When you’ve had something to eat you can feed the baby. If she cries, we’ll call you. Dismissed.’
Molly thanked him, bobbing the briefest curtsey, having little experience in dealing with the moneyed middle classes.
As she followed Doris, who had a most peculiar gait, through a green baize door, Molly felt an overwhelming urge to burst out laughing with relief and wonder. She could easily picture Jessica dancing round the hall in this house. It was Christmas and there was a huge tree decorated with baubles, candles, tinsel and presents. Molly hummed ‘Silent Night,’ and Doris gave her a look. ‘Yer not sickening for somethin’, are yer? Christmas is months off.’
‘Sorry, I was just imagining what it might be like here then.’
‘Nuthin’ to write home about. Although it’ll probably be different with a baby here. It’s more fun at our house.’
‘And where’s that? I mean, I know it must be Liverpool but whereabouts?’
But Doris did not answer her because they had reached the kitchen which was warm and full of delicious smells.
Cook was even fatter than Mr Barnes but she was just as welcoming. ‘You be seated, luv. We’ve been hearing all about your charge and it’s been a real tonic listening to the master looking forward to the little one’s coming. I’m sure she’s not going to be the nuisance a certain person in this house would have us believe,’ Cook added darkly.
Molly could guess who that might be. ‘You’re very kind,’ she said, seating herself on a straight-backed chair with a crocheted cushion in green and blue. The coals glowed red in the huge black-leaded grate and on a gas stove a couple of pans simmered.
‘I believe you’re a widow and that you lost your own little one?’ Tears glimmered in Cook’s bright eyes which were like currants in a mound of dough.
Molly thought of Frank and the poor little mite in St John’s graveyard and a tear instantly rolled down her own cheek.
‘There now,’ said Cook, patting her shoulder. ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Sorry, dear.’
‘Master says yer to give her a posset – his cure for all ills – and a nice ham butty,’ said Doris, dipping her finger into one of the pans.
Cook slapped the back of her hand with a wooden spoon. ‘You’re plain daft you are! You’ll scald yourself.’ She removed one of the pans, replacing it with a smaller one on the gas ring. ‘Now pass me that there jar of treacle and an egg.’
Doris did as she was told. Molly was content to watch. ‘Where do you live, Doris?’ she repeated.
‘Near Athol Street. Me dad works at the master’s factory.’
‘By the gasworks?’
‘More up Scottie Road end. Know it, do yer? Yer not from round our way.’
‘I’ve had a scouse pie from Block’s. I know a bargee who unloads at the gasworks.’
Doris stared at her. ‘What’s his name? Me dad goes drinking with some of the boatmen and me sister’s going out with one.’
‘We don’t want to hear about your dad’s drinking,’ said Cook, busily whisking egg and treacle. ‘Me and my brother signed the pledge when I was twelve. Anyway, hadn’t you better be getting upstairs.’
‘I’ve got too much to do since Ethel went,’ muttered Doris, dipping her finger in the pan again.
Cook aimed a clout at her but Doris dodged the blow. ‘I’ll be back for yer, probably in half an hour, kid,’ she said to Molly. ‘They’ll be wanting me to show yer where the nursery is. Yous’ll be sleeping up there. Although why the master wanted a big place like this with a nursery, I’ll never know. He never looks at the women although he likes kids. See yer!’ Doris waved cheerily and vanished.
‘You’ll have to excuse her,’ said Cook, beckoning Molly to the table. ‘She’s had a tough life. Got rickets as a child and her legs are bowed ten times worse than a jockey’s. She feels it but puts on a good show.’ She poured hot milk on to the eggs and treacle and grated nutmeg on its surface before placing the bowl in front of Molly. Then she took up a knife and removed a muslin cloth to reveal a juicy pink ham which she began to slice.
‘She hasn’t let it get her down by the sound of it,’ said Molly, fearful of all the ills that could claim her child’s life. She felt a fierce surge of protective love for her and wanted to leave the food on the table and run upstairs to see that she was all right, but she knew she needed to control such feelings. No one must suspect Jessica was hers.
Half an hour later Doris came into the kitchen with the baby and took Molly upstairs to a large sunlit room. There was a single bed but no cot because Nathan would be bringing the one from Burscough. Cream-painted cupboards covered one wall and there was also a tallboy. Next door was a smaller room with all the practical necessities.
Molly wandered back into the main room.
There were bars on the window which looked out over a large walled garden to the rear of the house. She gazed and gazed at the view. The sun was cutting a swathe of shimmering palest gold through the surface of the sea. It looked so calm and beautiful that it was difficult to believe in another part of the world the sea had claimed Frank’s life. She spotted a dredger working to keep the channels between the sandbanks clear for shipping and a liner. Poor Frank, she thought, turning away with a sigh.
After being shown the contents of the cupboards, which contained brand new baby clothes, proper nappies and bedding, Molly was left alone. She went over to the fireplace and sat down in a basket chair. ‘We’re lucky ducks,’ she said to her daughter as she changed a sodden homemade nappy for a brand new one. There were enough clothes and to spare, at least until Jessica passed her first birthday. As she fed her child, Molly was counting her blessings and looking forward to exploring her new surroundings.
‘Where are you going with the child tied to you like that?’ demanded Mrs Collins, face like thunder.
Apprehension tightened Molly’s throat as she paused, her hand on the front door. ‘It’s easier to c-carry her like this,’ she stammered, annoyed with herself for doing so.
‘It won’t do and you should be going out the back way. The neighbours’ll think the gypsies have come to town.’
‘You really think so?’ Molly raised her eyebrows, thinking sardonically that perhaps she should buy a pair of gold earrings with one of the sovereigns she had hidden at the back of a cupboard, as well as a red scarf to cover her hair. She was fed up of being accused of looking like a gypsy.
The older woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re right hardfaced, you are. I’d have you out of here if I had my way. Right now you’re not leaving this house with that baby until you’re dressed properly. I’ll have a word with my brother about a uniform for you.’ She hurried in the direction of the sitting room whose French windows opened on to a large garden.
‘What I need is a baby carriage to wheel her out in,’ called Molly. ‘Perhaps you could have a word with him about that, too?’
Mrs Collins swung round to face her, resting her hand on a three-tiered whatnot. ‘I don’t like your tone, my girl.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Molly could not understand what there was about her tone to dislike. The request she had made seemed eminently reasonable to her.
‘No, you’re not. And call me Mrs Collins when you address me.’
‘Yes, Mrs Collins,’ said Molly woodenly, trying to keep all emotion from her face.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t be impudent! You don’t fool me. And don’t be trying to get round my brother. He’s speaking to the gardener and I don’t want you wasting your time sucking up to him. You can tidy the nursery.’
‘I’ve already tidied it, Mrs Collins.’ Molly seethed inside. It was a blinking lie to say she sucked up to Mr Barnes who liked to talk to her, not only about her mother but his own early working days at Lever Brothers, the soap manufacturers. And she enjoyed listening to him, and was learning a lot.
‘You can help Doris clean the brasses then. Give the child to me.’
Molly felt like saying, ‘I wasn’t hired as a maid and I don’t work for you.’ She hesitated.
‘What are you waiting for?’ snapped Mrs Collins, shooting out her neck like a reptile. ‘Hand her to me and get those brasses done.’
Reluctantly Molly relinquished her daughter and, turning on her heel, went in search of Doris who exploded when Molly found her and told her why, saying exactly what she thought of Mrs Collins.
‘Don’t let her get to yer. She’s a jumped up madam and I don’t suppose her son’ll be any different.’
‘Oh, he is. That’s why there’s no love lost between them.’ Molly wrapped one of Doris’s large white aprons about her waist and began polishing a brass statuette of the Greek hero Jason which usually stood in the dining room.
‘Give people a bit of power and it goes to their heads,’ muttered Doris darkly. ‘They think they’re as good as the king.’
‘Well, you’ve heard the rumours about him,’ murmured Molly.
‘Eddyweddy, who are yer taking to beddy? Talk about sailors having a woman in every port,’ said Doris with a giggle.
‘My husband was a sailor.’
‘Yeah, well, so are a couple of me brothers. No harm meant, Moll.’
‘No harm taken,’ she said, remembering that Frank had been a very physical lover. Too blinking physical sometimes. But each homecoming had been exciting. It was like being married all over again every time but he’d always brought her a present, making her feel special, and handed over her housekeeping. She felt that familiar tightness in her chest, remembering, and rubbed extra hard on the brassy curls framing Jason’s handsome features, trying to picture Frank’s good-looking face instead. To her dismay she couldn’t conjure it up and had to force herself to think of something else.
She was polishing the front door bell when Nathan arrived. He was bareheaded and there was a smut on his cheek. His jacket was slung over one shoulder and his shirt collarless and unbuttoned at the throat. Molly was surprised by how pleased she was to see him but he looked vexed.
‘What the hell d’you think you’re doing?’ he said, frowning.
‘I’m polishing the bell.’ She paused, duster in hand.
‘Well, stop it. I don’t pay you to do that. I pay you to look after my daughter.’
‘You tell your mother that, Mr Collins,’ she said promptly, dropping the duster with glee. ‘She doesn’t listen to me.’
‘Well, she’ll listen to me.’
Molly wiped her damp forehead with the back of a hand. ‘I wanted to take the baby for a walk but she says I’m not properly dressed and I should have a uniform.’
He looked exasperated. ‘What’s she think I am? Made of money?’ He turned to a youth standing behind him, wearing the insignia of the Yorkshire & Lancashire Railway. ‘What are you gawping at, lad? Help unload that lot.’ He indicated with his head the handcart piled with a cardboard suitcase, a large toolbox, several bundles, Molly’s sewing machine and Jessica’s cradle.
‘I don’t think she intends you to pay for it,’ said Molly. ‘I told her I needed a pram, too.’
‘Well, it’s going to have to wait.’ He seized hold of his toolbox and heaved it off the cart. ‘Give us a hand here. You grab something.’
Molly took one of the bundles. ‘Your uncle would probably buy one. He’s besotted with Jessica.’
Nathan turned on her, face flushed with anger. ‘Don’t you dare go asking him for anything for her! She’s my daughter. Isn’t it enough that you’ve got me here? I’m not going to be able to call my life my own from now on.’
‘I’m sorry!’ Colour flooded Molly’s face but she was not going to take that lying down. ‘But excuse me, Mr Collins, you’re not here for me but for Jessica.’
‘Don’t answer me back,’ he muttered. ‘Just you remember, I’m your boss not them. Anything you need, you come to me.’
‘That’s why I’m asking you about the pram,’ she said, wondering if she had made a mistake in beginning to rely on him. But before he could respond to her words another voice spoke.
‘So you’ve arrived.’ Mrs Collins hung over the banister, seeming to hover above them like a bat. ‘Why aren’t you wearing a collar? You look like a workman.’
‘I am a workman, Mother.’ He stared at her from beneath dark brows.
‘Not any longer – and you’ve a smut on your face – and what’s that the lad’s carrying?’
‘A sewing machine. I should have thought you’d have seen one of them before.’
She frowned. ‘Don’t speak to me like that! I’m your mother. What’s it doing here? What do I need a sewing machine for?’
‘It belongs to Mrs Payne.’
‘Her?’ The tone was scornful. ‘What’s she want with it? I wouldn’t have thought she’d have the brains to know how to use it. Anyway where’s she going to put it?’
Brains! thought Molly indignantly. I’ve got more brains in my little finger than you’ve got in your whole body. I’ll show you, Mrs Collins!
‘It can go in the nursery for now,’ said Mr Barnes, coming out of his study and limping across the hall towards Nathan. ‘It’s good to see you here, lad.’
Molly watched the two men shake hands. ‘I’ll do my best to match up to your expectations of me, sir,’ said Nathan stiffly.
‘I’m sure you will.’The older man clapped him on the shoulder. ‘But relax, lad. You’re not at the factory now. This is your home. Why don’t you go up and rid yourself of the dirt from the journey? I’ll send Doris up to run a bath for you.’
‘I’ll get rid of my stuff first, if you don’t mind, sir.’
‘Aye. You do what you think best, lad. Just remember, anything you want you only have to ask.’
Nathan mumbled something that Molly could not catch before turning to the boy and ordering him to follow. He headed for the stairs and Molly hurried after them before Mrs Collins could do anything to prevent her.
Molly was in the nursery with the boy when Nathan came in carrying Jessica’s cradle. He tipped the boy and told him to scram then glanced about him. ‘The sewing machine OK on that table?’
‘It’s fine, Mr Collins,’ she said politely.
‘So what are you planning on doing with it?’
‘Sewing.’
‘Sewing what?’ He brought his gaze back to her face. ‘You do know that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit? And you haven’t any big ideas still about working for my uncle in his factory, have you?’
Molly smiled. ‘Not at the moment I haven’t.’
‘That’s OK then.’ He leaned against the cupboards. ‘Where’s my daughter?’
‘Your mother took her.’
‘You mustn’t let her do that.’
‘And how am I going to prevent her, Mr Collins? She’s your mother.’
‘I’ll speak to her.’ He straightened up. ‘She didn’t have Jessica with her when she came into the hall.’
‘Perhaps Cook’s got her.’
‘Go and look. I want to see her.’
‘Yes, Mr Collins.’ She moved towards the door.
‘Hang on. I’ve something for you.’ He hurried past her, reappearing a few minutes later with a pair of highly polished tan boots. ‘I thought you might like these. They belonged to my wife but she had hardly any wear out of them. I got rid of everything else but I thought you couldn’t go on wearing clogs here and these might fit you.’
Molly took them from him, pleased that he should have thought of her, and tried the boots on there and then. They were a tiny bit too big but she only had to stuff some tissue paper or a rag in the toes and they’d be fine. ‘Thanks.’ She gave him a delighted smile.
‘It’s nothing,’ he said brusquely, waving her towards the door. ‘Go and find Jessica.’ She hurried off in the new boots and down the backstairs. As soon as she reached the passage leading to the kitchen, she could hear her daughter screaming and hurried to her child. ‘What’s wrong with her?’
A scarlet-faced Cook said, ‘Thank goodness! I don’t know what the missus was thinking of, handing her over to me when I’ve dinner to prepare. But she was like this when she reached me. I haven’t done anything.’
Molly took Jessica and rocked her in her arms but still she carried on crying. She checked her over and discovered one of the nappy pins had come undone and scratched her hip. ‘Poor love,’ she murmured, making it secure, puzzled as to how it had come undone as she was always careful with pins.
Doris entered the room with an air of suppressed excitement about her.
‘Where’ve you been?’ demanded Cook. ‘I needed you.’
She sniffed. ‘I haven’t got two pairs of hands. The master told me to run a bath for young Mr Collins. I offered to scrub his back but he refused to let me.’
‘You never did!’ exclaimed Cook, scandalised.
Molly’s lips twitched. ‘She’s having you on.’
The older woman tut-tutted. ‘She shouldn’t be saying such things. But you take it from me, that air of tragedy he has tugs at the heartstrings. You mark my words, there’ll be wedding bells before we know it once word gets round he’s here.’
Doris rolled her eyes, putting both hands over her heart and fluttering her fingers. Molly’s smile faded. ‘Why should he want to marry again when he’s got all he needs here? I can carry on looking after Jessica for him.’
‘Aye, well,’ muttered Cook, bustling over to the table, pan in hand. ‘I’ll only say a young man has his needs.’
‘Why don’t yer call a spade a spade and say he needs his oats served up every day?’ demanded Doris.
Cook’s eyes bulged. ‘Your mouth! You shouldn’t be knowing about such things at your age!’
‘I’m over twenty-one. It’s better to know what the fellas are after than end up in trouble.’
‘Enough said,’ barked Cook, mouth working. ‘Get on with peeling those tatties.’
Molly left the kitchen, feeling uneasy. What if Nathan did marry again and have more children? How would that affect Jessica’s position? She hadn’t done all this for Jessica to have her nose put out of joint by a second marriage. She sighed. What could she do to stop it? She braced her shoulders, remembering how he had wept for his wife, and was comforted.
Molly was just settling the baby down to sleep when Nathan entered the nursery, his hair still damp from the bath. ‘Where did you find her?’ Molly told him what had happened and he gazed down at the child and touched her cheek. ‘She seems all right now.’
‘Of course she is. But it still puzzles me, how that pin came open.’
He said nothing, stroking the baby’s cheek.
‘Why don’t you pick her up? She needs to get to know you better.’
‘I don’t want to hurt her.’
Molly smiled. ‘Babies are tougher than you think.’ She picked up her child. ‘Hold out your arms.’
He obeyed her, taking Jessica, weighing her in his arms. ‘She’s heavier than I thought.’ He placed a finger on the baby’s palm and her tiny fingers curled about it. She gurgled up at him and he smiled. ‘Look at that.’
Molly was looking, thinking, This is the moment I prayed for. He’s fallen in love with my daughter.
‘What’s going on here?’ The voice was sharp and they both jumped.
A muscle tightened in Nathan’s jaw as he turned and looked at Mrs Collins. ‘What d’you want, Mother?’
‘I heard the baby screaming. Just came to see if she was all right. Mrs Payne’s only young. What does she know about children?’ She darted a venomous look at Molly.
‘She’s doing all right so far.’ Nathan lifted the baby up into the air and smiled into her face. ‘You’re fine, aren’t you, lass?’The baby gurgled again, still clinging to his finger. ‘Look at that grip.’ He gave a shout of laughter.
‘All babies do that,’ said Mrs Collins disparagingly.
Jessica’s gurgle turned to a whimper and Nathan hushed her, bringing her against him and rocking her gently.
His mother looked far from pleased. ‘You’ll spoil her, you know. Put her back in the cradle,’ she demanded, moving towards him with a rustle of silk.
‘I haven’t spoilt her at all.’ His voice hardened and he held her closer. ‘Perhaps it’s time I did.’
‘Stuff and nonsense! Discipline, that’s what’s important. You’ll rue the day you took on this girl to look after your child.’ She flounced out of the nursery.
Molly felt shaken and stared at Nathan. ‘You won’t rue the day, will you?’ she whispered. ‘I only want what’s best for Jessica.’
‘I know you do, Moll. Take no notice of my mother. She can’t help herself. She’s always been a jealous woman. Why I don’t know. I think it must be that she’s never got over my father’s death. He spoilt her rotten, so Uncle William said. He was a lot older than her. I can’t say I remember much about him.’ He handed the baby over to her and left the nursery.
From that day on Molly expected trouble from Mrs Collins but the next day was reasonably peaceful because the older woman went to Southport and when she returned was kept busy because a guest was expected for dinner.
When Nathan returned from his first day at the factory he came straight up to the nursery, pausing in the doorway when he saw Molly feeding the baby. ‘You’ll be getting your baby carriage. It’s to be delivered the day after next,’ he said, going over to the window and gazing out.
‘Thank you.’ She was delighted.
‘It’s for Jessica. There’s no need to thank me – and you must call me Mr Collins. And another thing, you must wear a uniform.’ His voice was stiff.
‘Yes, all right, I agree.’ She wondered what had made him change his mind.
‘It’s not for you to agree or disagree, Mrs Payne.’
She stared at his ramrod-straight back and felt the colour rise in her cheeks. ‘Yes, sir, Mr Collins!’
‘Don’t make this hard for me,’ he groaned, still not looking at her. ‘All this kind of thing is as far from my upbringing as it is from yours. But just because we knew each other when we were young and went to the same school and I’ve been poor like you, we can’t carry on being familiar with each other.’
‘I didn’t know we were familiar?’
‘Don’t interrupt.’ He spun around, his eyes like steel. ‘I’ve rehearsed this and you throw me off my stride when you answer me back. For God’s sake, we’ve got to have a strictly regulated boss and employee relationship.’
Suddenly she understood. First day at the factory. His uncle had probably been talking about such things as working relationships with the staff. ‘I understand, Mr Collins,’ she said, knowing the best thing was to pacify him.
‘I hope you do.’ His gaze met hers briefly, taking in the suckling baby before looking away again. ‘This uniform…’
‘I could probably run one up in no time if I could get the material.’
‘That’s what I was thinking, knowing you have the machine. Uncle William buys cloth by the roll for his suits from his partner in Leeds. He suggests you not only utilise one of the smaller back bedrooms for your sewing but that you make use of his material. There’s also a roll of cambric that would do you for waists… blouses… call them what you will. The fabric’s upstairs in one of the attics. You can go and have a look. The sooner the better if you want to wheel Jessica out.’
‘He’s a lovely man, your uncle.’There was warmth in her voice. ‘I don’t know why you ever took against him.’
‘He’s OK,’ he said, with a careless shrug of the shoulders, hands in his pockets. ‘His partner’s OK too. He’s a widower with one daughter, Charlotte. She’s involved with the suffragettes, the daft girl. Anyway, that’s the Braithwaites though I doubt you’ll be having much to do with them. Now I’ve to bath and change. There’s a Colonel Walker coming for dinner.’
‘He’s the oil merchant Mr Barnes gets his paraffin wax from. Has he any daughters?’
Nathan looked surprised. ‘How the hell would I know or care?’ He went out, closing the door behind him.
Molly smiled and began to hum ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ beneath her breath, thinking it was obvious he wasn’t interested in acquiring another wife. She looked forward to going up to the attics and delving into the treasures there. She would start sewing within the day.
Molly fingered the fine white cotton and decided to embroider flowers on the collar and cuffs. It was her second waist and as she worked she sang softly, thinking of the trip she’d made to Madam Val Smith’s, a wholesaler’s in Liverpool. Artificial flowers, feathers, ribbons, veiling, straw and felt hats! What a pleasure it had been browsing there. The shop stood between Bunny’s departmental store and the new Woolworth’s where everything cost no more than sixpence.
The city had been full of bustle, lifting Molly’s spirits. This was what she missed out at the house in Blundellsands. People, noise, and big shop windows to press her nose against while drooling over the contents: clothes and accessories, furniture and nick-nacks. She could not afford anything but enjoyed looking anyway. She had gone on to watch the Punch and Judy show on St George’s Plateau, thinking she would take Jessica there when she was older. After that she’d walked to the Pierhead to stare in wonder at the Royal Liver Insurance Building, still under construction. Architecturally it was not as pleasing as that of the Customs House with its pillars and dome. Old salts sat on the steps, smoking their clay pipes and telling far-fetched tales about sea monsters and natives on tropical islands to anyone who cared to listen.
Molly had fed the seagulls with the remains of her packed lunch and bought an Echo for the return train journey. Then wished she hadn’t because there was a report of a Liverpool liner being in collision with an iceberg. Fortunately no lives were lost and it had managed to limp into port in Newfoundland. How she wished Frank’s ship had reached port! She wouldn’t be worrying about being parted from her daughter then.
She was glad to arrive home, knowing Jessica was due for a feed and needing to reassure herself of the child’s safety. To Molly’s horror she found Mrs Collins trying to get Jessica to feed from a bottle but the child was refusing the teat and screaming. The woman slapped her right there in front of Molly who snatched her daughter away and screamed at her, saying she was cruel. Fortunately Mr Barnes arrived on the scene then or Molly did not know what might have happened. Doris was there so Molly hurried out with the baby, leaving him to deal with his sister and hoping Doris would explain. Nathan was in Leeds or Molly would have spoken to him about it. But she knew his mother would have it in for her even more now.
Yesterday evening Mrs Collins had repeatedly come into the room where Molly was sewing and stood silently at her shoulder, watching all she did. Molly told herself she must not allow herself to feel threatened and that the woman was doing it on purpose to unnerve her. It was not easy, though, ignoring that brooding presence. She just wished Nathan would come home soon.
Wearing her new suit and hat, Molly wheeled Jessica out in the pram the next day. She strolled along the tree-lined thoroughfare, enjoying the sunshine and feeling proud as anything, knowing she looked the part of nursery nurse. She noted the names of the houses on pillars and gates.
No plain old numbers for the well-to-do, she mused, savouring each name. The Shanty must surely belong to a retired sea captain. Cairdhu was owned by a Scot or Irishman. Newstead, Doris told her, boasted four cotton brokers and a solicitor, all in the same family, while The Dunes was situated not far from the beach. Molly vowed each day to vary her walk to take in either the shops or the seafront. It was all a far cry from her previous lives in Burscough and Bootle.
‘Molly, is that really you?’
Her head turned as Nathan drew alongside her, carrying a suitcase. She was so relieved to see him she beamed up at him. ‘Do I look very different, Nathan?’ His name tripped off her tongue and she waited for him to scold her but he didn’t.
Instead dancing eyes took her in from top to toe. ‘I never would have believed such a change possible. It’s frightening!’
‘Frightening?’ she said, taken aback.
‘The uniform. I feel like saluting you.’
She laughed, not believing a word he said, knowing the snugly fitting suit did wonders for her female figure. ‘I don’t know why you should say that?’
‘You remind me of my commanding officer.’
‘Who?’ She flashed him a startled glance.
‘That’s a joke. But I am one of Haldane’s men.’ There was a proud tilt to his head. ‘I joined the Lancashire Fusiliers Special Reserve the other year when I was feeling a bit browned off. Jess and I had quarrelled. It was before we married.’
‘I thought you were mad about each other?’
He stared down at her, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. ‘We got mad at each other at times. Didn’t you and your husband?’
She hesitated. ‘Frank was away at sea a lot.’
‘So you never had fights?’
‘We had so little time together. In some ways I hardly knew him. Besides, I wouldn’t have dreamed of answering him back. He was my husband and eight years older than me. Knew so much more about life, had been to so many places. The only quarrel I had with him, really, was over Ma.’
‘Ma ?’
She grimaced. ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned her. He’s dead and that part of my life’s over.’
There was a silence. Then Nathan said abruptly, ‘I’ll be going to army camp in summer for a month. Uncle William’s put out. We almost had a row about it but I was adamant about still going. I enjoy it, you see. Roughing it, cross country training and all that. It demands something of a bloke. He was astonished when I told him my instructor last year wanted me to sign up to be a regular soldier. I used to shoot pigeons so I’m a good shot. The instructor was of the opinion there was certain promotion in it for me.’
‘You told Mr Barnes that?’
‘Aye. And he seemed impressed, if still annoyed with me.’ He smiled and changed the subject. ‘You know, Moll, I still find it hard to believe you made that uniform yourself. It looks so professional. Turn round. Let me see it from all angles.’
Slightly embarrassed she did a twirl, revealing a neat pair of ankles in the buttoned tan boots.
‘Very nice.’ Then he changed the subject again. ‘They all say time heals. D’you believe them?’
‘The shock passes but it still hurts. It’s just a matter of getting on with it.’
They both fell silent and he stared at the child in the pram. ‘I’ll pop up and see her later,’ he said eventually.
Molly carried on with her walk, thinking about him being away a whole month. If only it was Mrs Collins going instead!
Later Nathan popped into the nursery as he’d said he would. Molly had finished bathing the baby who was now clad in a clean nightgown and smelling deliciously of Pear’s soap. As she emptied the bath in the other room she caught the faint sound of a lullaby and smiled to herself, thinking once again that Nathan was a funny mixture. Who had taught him that? She could not imagine Mrs Collins ever singing to him.
That visit to the nursery was the forerunner of many over the following weeks. Molly was pleased by Nathan’s growing fascination with her child. When he did not come she was keenly aware of her own disappointment. When he did they talked not only of the baby’s welfare but of the factory and his plans, and of the changes going on in the world: of airships and votes for women, the visit of the Csar and Csarina of Russia.
Mr Barnes had given Molly leave to read whatever took her fancy from his bookshelves. He recommended Her Benny which was set in Liverpool during Victorian times and was about a poverty-stricken pair of orphans. The book made her cry and she told him so when he asked what she’d thought of it. Afterwards they discussed poverty and David Lloyd George’s intention to improve things for the poor on top of the old age pension which he had already introduced.
Molly was well aware of Mrs Collins’s disapproval of her son’s daily visits to the nursery and of her brother’s desire to educate her further. As Molly pushed Jessica in the pram in Alexandra Park she tried not to think about the growing physical attraction she felt towards Nathan, telling herself she couldn’t possible be in love with him, but there was no doubt in her mind just how much she enjoyed the time spent in his company. She told herself she mustn’t get too fond of him, that way lay heartache. Yet she could hardly ask him to stop visiting the nursery. Maybe if she absented herself during the time he was there…
But when Molly tried that ploy he was visibly annoyed. ‘Where are you off to again? I need to talk to you about Jessica.’ He paced the floor, hands in his pockets, eyes on her face, to catch her every expression. ‘Has my mother been saying things to you? If she has, forget them. She doesn’t rule me. I say stay so you stay. Understand?’
Of course she understood. But she wondered if he understood what was happening between them. Because she would have to be daft not to realise he felt something for her. She would catch him staring at her and he would look away almost immediately. Yet not soon enough to slow the racing of her heart at the expression in his eyes. Their hands would brush apparently by accident, but was it?
It was August when Nathan informed Molly he would be leaving for a training camp in Wales the next day. She was expecting the news but even so her spirits plummeted.
‘Jessica’s just getting to know and recognise you. Your voice, everything. She’s going to miss you.’ Molly could not disguise the catch in her own voice.
‘Don’t you think I’m going to miss her too?’ Nathan pressed his cheek against the baby’s as she bit on an ivory and silver rattle. ‘You as well, of course,’ he added softly, staring at Molly.
She lowered her eyes, finding it hard to smile. ‘You’ll be too busy enjoying yourself crawling through undergrowth and taking potshots at the wild life,’ she murmured.
‘I aim to enjoy it, but being with the lads won’t be the same as being with you. That’s a daft thing to say, I know, but it’s true. I really am going to miss you, Molly.’
‘You mustn’t say anymore.’ She lifted her head. ‘Here, give me Jessica. I’ll put her down.’
He handed the baby over, watching as she placed Jessica in the cradle. ‘She’s going to need something bigger soon.’
‘I know.’ Like she’ll need weaning, thought Molly. And what about me then? Mrs Collins would say they should get a proper trained nurse. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d expressed such an opinion.
Molly straightened, not realising how close he was standing. When had he moved? Her heart began to hammer as his arms went around her. She knew it was foolish not to resist but it felt so good. With a sigh she placed her head on his shoulder and put her arms round his waist. For a moment they just held each other then she looked at him and felt a rush of excitement at the expression on his face. When his mouth came down on hers it caused a tingling in her veins. Her lips yielded and they kissed, long and deep.
After a while Nathan reached behind her to unfasten the strings of her apron and pull it over her head. Then, with fingers that trembled, he began to undress her. Molly knew she should stop things there and then but didn’t have the willpower. She wanted him to make love to her. His hands moved over her body and he nuzzled her neck as he carried her over to the narrow bed. She felt so alive. Like a scrunched up sheet of paper set afire, his body the taper that ignited the flame at her heart. As he cuddled, caressed and took her.
She came to herself, aware of Jessica gurgling in her cot, and was suddenly reminded of the pain of childbirth. What if she became pregnant? What had she been thinking of, giving way to her emotions?
Scared stiff now, she pushed at him and he rolled off her. She glanced at him as he lay with one hand across his eyes and murmured, ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘A bit late now, Mr Collins,’ she said shakily, getting out of bed and clutching her drawers to her.
‘God, it was good, though.’ His voice was almost reverent.
Molly could have agreed with that but chose not to. She mustn’t encourage him to think they could do it again. Suddenly she noticed the nursery door was not quite shut and hurried to close it. ‘We must have been mad!’ she whispered. ‘You’d better get dressed and get out of here before someone comes.’
‘In a minute, Moll. We have to talk.’ He did not move.
She shook him. ‘Mr Collins… Nathan… your mother or your uncle… anyone could come along.’
He shifted, scooping up the clothes she threw at him and staring at her with a frown. ‘What’s happened to us? It’s only five months since Jess died.’
‘I know. It’s the same with Frank.’ She went into the other room.
‘It must be me going off to camp that caused it,’ he called after her.
Molly did not argue.
When she re-entered the room, dressed, he surprised her by catching her to him. ‘Twenty-eight days, Molly,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘It’ll pass.’
‘Not thirty-one?’ she said flippantly, near to tears.
‘I’ll be counting the days.’ He kissed her lightly on the lips before releasing her and going over to the cradle. ‘You’ll take care of Jessica?’
‘Of course! That’s my job, Mr Collins.’ Her whole body felt stiff with dread of what might happen once he had gone.
‘Nathan,’ he said softly, gazing at her. ‘You can’t call me Mr Collins after that.’ His head indicated the bed. ‘Bye, Moll. Thanks for everything.’
She almost said it had been a pleasure but restrained herself. ‘Don’t get in the way of any bullets.’
‘I’m not stupid.’ He smiled, blew her a kiss and left.
Molly went over to the cradle and lifted out her baby. Tears shone in her eyes. ‘Lovely precious,’ she whispered, rubbing her cheek against the light brown hair. ‘He loves you. Whether he really loves me as well, we’ll just have to wait and see.’