JOSEPH SQUINTED THROUGH the gloom. His mouth was parchment dry, his head thumping.
‘Bloody thick heads grow worse as I get owder,’ he muttered, hauling himself up in the lumpy bed.
A leg wrapped around his, making him jump. Wrenching back the covers, he frowned, trying to cast his mind back to the night before, but the pounding in his skull pushed out all thought.
Nancy lay on her side, arms entwined above her head, hair streaming across the pillow. He shoved her hard.
‘’Ere, what—?’
‘What the hell’s tha doing here?’ he cut in harshly. ‘Get up, get dressed and get gone afore our Alice wakens.’
Stretching like a lazy cat in the sun, she smiled sleepily. ‘You asked me back last night, you daft beggar. We had a nice fumble in Nellie’s as usual, but when we went into the back lane like normally at kicking-out time, I said I were sick of lifting my skirt for thee outside and you fetched me here.’ She dropped kisses on to his chest. ‘You not remember?’
‘Nay, I bloody well don’t.’ He dragged a hand through his hair. ‘I must’ve had a reet skinful.’
She pouted. ‘Oh, ta very much.’
‘Listen, you daft sow, if our Alice finds out I’ve had thee here, I’ll be out quicker than that,’ he growled, clicking his fingers. ‘Reet funny, she is, ’bout things like that. Get moving.’
Arching in another stretch, she laughed when his glare flicked to her bare breasts, which had risen invitingly. ‘We’ve a few minutes, ain’t we? It’s early yet. Look.’ She motioned to the window. ‘It’s only just gone light.’
Irritation sparked but he didn’t object.
‘Good lad. You lie back and enjoy.’
His eyes narrowed with desire as she straddled him. ‘You’re a bitch. My head’s splitting.’
Hips moving rhythmically, Nancy smiled. ‘And that’s what you like about me, in’t it?’
Ivy couldn’t keep the smile from her face. Her husband and sons donned jackets and caps and her stomach fluttered in excitement.
‘Wish us luck, Mam.’ Shaun bent and kissed her cheek. Making for the door, he checked the cloth bag’s contents for the dozenth time.
‘Good luck, son. You got the money?’
Tommy patted his pocket. ‘I’ve got it, Mam.’
‘You got them carvings?’
Shaun held up the bag. ‘Aye.’
She nodded, then frowned at Arthur. ‘You got that package I made up for your dinners?’
‘Aye, wench, stop your fussing.’ He rolled his eyes at his grinning sons. ‘Let’s get moving afore the day’s gone.’
She watched them pass down the lane. When they reached the end of the row, Tommy lifted an arm in farewell and she smiled. She returned to the kitchen and, reaching for the teapot, clicked her tongue at her trembling hands.
‘Be calm, Ivy,’ she told herself. ‘What will be, will be.’
They had barely slept last night – indeed, no one had much since Tommy had poured the money on to the table. Anticipation had stroked the cottage; she couldn’t believe the day was here. It seemed they had waited weeks for Sunday to crawl around.
Naturally, Shaun felt it more. Dragging himself to the pit was difficult before – having to do so with that money sitting here had been unbearable. She just prayed to God he was taken on today.
She smiled as her musings switched to Tommy. Whatever had ailed him wasn’t a sickening for Sally, she was now certain. He’d simply been fretting over Shaun’s future and she felt terrible about her suspicions. She was even thankful that Sally had left, she remembered shamefully. Why had she harboured such foolish notions? Sally was a lovely lass, her Tommy a good lad smitten with the Jenkins one.
At the thought of Dolly, she sighed. She’d shot herself in the foot, there; her daft imaginings even saw her encouraging the courtship. She didn’t know what it was about the dairymaid, couldn’t put her finger on it. There was something about her she couldn’t take to.
That there wasn’t anything wrong with Dolly, that merely, in her eyes, no one was good enough for her Tommy, niggled, and she sighed again. She just loved the lad, wanted him to be happy, that was all.
With a yawn and a stretch, she settled into Arthur’s chair. Closing tired eyes, her mind remained on Tommy. If that Jenkins lass was who he wanted, she’d have to accept it. He wasn’t getting any younger. It was time he thought about settling down.
A sudden thought struck and her eyes sprang open. ‘I wonder …?’ she murmured to the empty room.
He only met Dolly on Sundays yet yesterday, Saturday, he visited her cottage. He was gone all day and, now Ivy thought about it, preoccupied on his return. Had her inviting Dolly to dinner spurred him into taking things further? Would her apparent support bolster him to propose? With effort, she told herself that, whatever occurred, she’d keep her opinions private. It was his life, his decision.
Nights of shattered sleep, coupled with the fire, took effect. Before Ivy drifted to sleep, a young woman appeared in her mind. However, it wasn’t Dolly, but Sally. And she realised, if circumstances were different, there was no one she’d want more for a daughter-in-law.
His lust spent, Joseph pushed Nancy off and climbed from the bed.
‘’Ere, I weren’t finished. What’s the rush? Tha getting bored of me, or summat?’
He turned sharply and grabbed her by the throat. His grip tightened and he forced himself to stop. He could happily beat her to a pulp; her whining was really getting to him, lately. But it would raise questions. That father of hers would surely notice and want to know what had happened.
She held up her hands. ‘I’m sorry. I’m a grumpy cow of a morning. Leave go, eh, lad? I’ll get dressed quick and be out of your hair.’
With a curl of his lip, he slung her away, sending her sprawling across the bed. He watched with increasing anger as she scrambled up, rubbing her neck.
He’d have to get shot of her. She was a convenient tool to sate his carnal needs, and the stuff she thieved from her father’s shop placated Alice, but the urge to hurt her – and the struggle not to – mounted with each meeting.
That’s where he’d been clever with Sally. He’d had plenty of flings before her but none lasted. When they got on his nerves and he’d used his fist to shut their gobs, they scarpered. But not Sally. She couldn’t, with no one and nowhere to run to.
As he pulled on his trousers, admiration filled him for the workhouse master. He was on to something, there, all right. He knew plenty of men would pay well for women who did as they told them. Women with no ties, to use however you wanted without fear of their fathers or brothers giving you a good hiding. He’d had it until that interfering old bitch next door stuck her nose in. And by God, he’d have it again.
Snarling at Nancy’s smile, he flung on shirt and jacket. Aye, this whore had to go soon, before he lost his rag. It was coming, there was no doubt about it. He wasn’t prepared to dangle at the end of a rope for her, however tempting. Once he’d used her to find Sally and get back at the Morgans, he’d get rid of her.
Amusement bubbled. She was still paying his rent, probably hoping he’d move her in. Silly bitch. He couldn’t return, with them next door, not without getting a round of clogs to his head. Even if he did, this dried-up sow certainly wouldn’t be in tow. Sally would.
His jaw tightened in fury. Had she left Bolton? He’d told Nancy to keep her ears open for shop gossip but so far, customers hadn’t mentioned her. Was it her who Alice’s girl and the stationmaster had met? If so, why would she return to Manchester? She had nothing there, no roots to lay claim to besides the workhouse.
His hand stilled on the button he was fastening. Had she somehow discovered …? No, she couldn’t have. The master assured him she never would.
‘Did you hear me, love?’
At Nancy’s sickly-sweet tone, he longed to knock her teeth down her throat. ‘What you on about now?’
‘I were saying, my kiddies will be all right with my neighbour a while longer; d’you want to get summat to eat and drink afore I make for Breightmet? I could murder a sup. Nellie will find us some grub so long as we’ve the brass; I’ve a few coppers, here. You want to, love?’ she finished, soft-eyed with expectancy.
He shrugged. He might as well. He wouldn’t get anything here, that was for sure. They hadn’t had a scrap in for days. Dragging on his cap, he headed for the door.
As they slipped to the kitchen, he was grateful it was early. Alice would have a fit if she knew he’d had a woman back. He couldn’t risk her slinging him out. It might be a hovel but it kept the chill from his bones and rain off his head.
Glancing at the sleeping children in the corner, he smirked in satisfaction then pushed Nancy into the muck-strewn alley.
‘Shaun, mind out!’ Tommy hauled him from a cart’s path. ‘Christ, wake up, will thee? An inch closer and you’d have been under their hooves.’
Shaun’s smile, a fixture since waking, didn’t waver. He scanned the length of Deansgate. ‘Are there any round here?’
Their father scratched his chin. ‘Aye, I’ve seen one up this end afore, I’m sure.’
As they continued in search of a carpenter, Tommy fell behind. He smiled when Arthur pulled the distracted Shaun from a pile of horse manure, glad he’d accompanied them. It not only offered an excuse not to meet Dolly but a much-needed diversion. Dear God, what he’d witnessed yesterday …
A low moan escaped when the vision returned to torture him. He didn’t believe his eyes when she emerged from that pie shop, had laughed aloud, convinced he was the luckiest devil on the face of the earth. His sweet Sally had appeared, right there in front of him. As had the good-looking man she’d clung to.
He winced at the image now forever burned in his memory. Why was he foolish enough to hope she felt something, too? Rancour for the man she’d smiled up at, face alight with – was it love? – scorched his veins. Who the hell was he? Where and when did they meet? She’d left Spring Row not a fortnight ago!
If she’d rebuffed his declaration, of course, she’d have devastated him. But another man? That was too much; his heart had wilted. Staggering back to Victoria Station, he’d been thankful for the emptiness inside, considering the pain he knew would come once the shock wore off.
Throughout that day, she’d consumed his thoughts yet, surprisingly, sleep claimed him when his head met his pillow. But his dreams tormented him more than consciousness ever could.
He shook his head to dispel the cruel trick his mind played last night. He dreamed he and Sally were married. They were in bed, entwined in each other’s arms. He stroked the dawn rays playing across her bare shoulders and she smiled. Yet when he made to kiss her, she turned away. And the man from the pie shop had entered, swept her up and carried her off …
Tommy quickened his pace to catch up with his father and brother. He was safe with others, felt forced to suppress his anguish. He wanted nothing more than to kneel by the roadside and howl his throat raw, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t. All he could do was try to forget her.
‘All right, son?’
Wrenched back to the present, Tommy blinked back tears he hadn’t realised had formed. ‘Aye.’
His father frowned but before he could enquire further, Shaun spoke in his ear:
‘Look. Over the road, there. It’s Mr Goden.’
As they glanced around, the thickset man turned.
Then all hell broke loose.