TWO INCIDENTS WERE to scupper Sally’s plans.
The first occurred during the early hours. The strained atmosphere the night before worsened after the evening meal when, true to his word, Ed secured a cart. Upon his return, the household fell into uneasy silence. The lamplighter had barely passed when, unable to bear it another moment, she’d feigned a headache and escaped to the next room.
She was still awake when sounds of the family retiring filtered through. Long afterwards, sleep was no nearer; the impending journey made it impossible.
When a whimper reached her, her exhausted brain hardly registered it. At the second, her senses awoke. She slipped from the horsehair sofa, padded to the kitchen and squinted about. All was still. Believing her sleep-deprived mind was playing tricks, she was about to turn when a black form shifted by Peggy’s bed.
Thinking it was her aunt, she made to tiptoe back next door. She froze when the doleful moan, more insistent now, echoed again.
As Sally approached, another noise replaced it – rattling gasps she hadn’t heard across the room.
Surprise halted her step and she saw the figure wasn’t Grace, but Shield. He whined again and, shushing him, she peered at the bed. The jagged breaths were coming from her cousin.
She rushed to the chair and shook her aunt’s shoulder. ‘Aunt Grace, wake up. Peggy …’
Grace’s eyes opened instantly. When she crossed to the bed and dropped to her knees, Shield sloped to the corner, soft brown eyes never leaving Peggy.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you, I— Oh my … Peggy, can you hear me? Where does it hurt? Speak to me, lass.’ Her daughter answered with a racking cough and she clutched Sally’s arm. ‘Waken our Ed and Stan, tell them to come quick.’ Sobs burst forth but she gulped them back. ‘Go, Sally. Go now.’
Nodding blindly, Sally darted from the room.
Within seconds, four figures huddled around the bed. Ed and Stan’s murmurs to Peggy mingled with the breaths bubbling in her tortured lungs, and Grace’s crying.
Sally brought down Thunder and laid it beside her cousin. She swallowed hard, desperate to stem her own grief for her family’s sake, but it was useless. She burst into tears.
Below purple-shadowed eyes, twin spots of colour burned high on Peggy’s cheeks and despite her shivers, beads of perspiration glistened on her forehead. She grew weaker, each breath shallower than the last.
Ten minutes later, she died in her mother’s arms.
After a moment of stunned silence, a cacophony of noise erupted. Anguished shrieks punctured the dawn, Shield adding to them as he howled at the ceiling.
Sally threw her arms around Grace’s neck and hugged the screaming woman tightly. Stan bent double with sobs. Without hesitation, Ed pulled him into his arms.
The following hours were a fog of grief-hazed activity. Neighbours, alerted by the cries, flitted in to pay their respects, Sally brewed endless pots of tea, and the hum of subdued voices and quiet weeping permeated the house.
The sun was high above the grey rooftops when Winnie arrived. Sally saw her slip into the kitchen, red-rimmed eyes tinged with uncertainty – probably owing to Grace’s tirade yesterday. Over her aunt’s head, she beckoned her across.
Still clutching Peggy, Grace rocked back and forth, dry-eyed, staring at nothing.
Winnie touched her shoulder. ‘Oh, wench … I’m so sorry.’
Grace frowned down. She traced a finger along her daughter’s marble-white cheek. ‘I want to die. Help me, Winnie. Make this pain go away.’ She started to shake, then a torturous cry ripped from her.
Swallowing her own tears, Sally moved aside and Winnie took her place. As the friends hugged and wept, she peered around. As was customary, they had left the curtains drawn and though several candles flickered, it was difficult to see through the gloom.
She spotted Stan by the window, two neighbours comforting him. Her gaze swept the opposite side. Hunched against the door frame, her uncle stood alone, arms wrapped around himself. She could almost feel his devastation as he watched his wife. His eyes were deep with longing, as though he’d give anything to be the one holding her. They then rested on Stan and she sensed the same burning urge.
Before Sally could reach him, he took a last look at Stan and slipped from the room.
After pouring out her grief to Winnie, Grace rallied. She’d finally released her daughter and when the neighbours trickled home, she and Sally laid her out. Tears flowing, they washed her emaciated body and dressed her in a clean nightdress. Afterwards, Grace whispered she was in a better place, free from pain. This seemed to bring her some comfort.
Evening was drawing in. Sally cradled Jonathan by the dead fire, which they wouldn’t light before laying Peggy to rest. She glanced at Shield by her feet. He seemed to feel her passing, too. It was as though he’d sensed the child’s life ebbing. If not for his cries, she might have died alone.
Bending to scratch his ear, Sally sighed, mind and body exhausted.
‘Would you throw a meal of sorts together, lass?’ murmured Stan. ‘None of us feel like eating but it’ll be there if we do.’
‘Of course.’
‘I’ll take Jonathan.’ As he held him, Stan’s eyes clouded. ‘I’m scared,’ he whispered. ‘My family’s disappearing around me. First our Peggy, and you’ll be making other plans for Bolton. I’ve a feeling you’ll not come back, that you’ll send for Jonathan and we’ll not see you again.
‘Things ain’t so bad since you came. Mam’s been happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. I couldn’t bear you leaving, now, never seeing you both again.’
‘Oh, Stan.’ Dropping into a chair, Sally rested her cheek against his. ‘That will never happen. This is my home. Here, with my family.’
‘You mean you’re not going to Bolton?’
She chose her words carefully so as not to upset him. ‘I still need to make a visit, but that’s all it shall be. I know you all think I’m mad but I must. They were so good to me.’ She glanced at Grace by the bed, stroking Peggy’s hand. ‘However, I cannot leave Aunt Grace, yet.’
Also watching, Stan dashed away a tear. ‘I hate the thought of leaving her alone the morrow.’
Sally nodded. She’d harboured the same concern.
‘My master understood when I called in t’ baker’s, earlier, gave me a stale loaf to fetch home and the day off but I’ve to be in the morrow. Father’s won’t allow him time, the sod. I’ll not be surprised if he gets the push for not showing today. You due in the morrow, an’ all?’
‘Yes. There’s Jonathan, too. I cannot burden Aunt Grace with him, now. Perhaps Mrs Knox would sit in—?’
‘I’ll be all right.’
They blushed at Grace overhearing them.
‘You’ll leave the babby with me, as you allus do, and I’ll not hear another word.’ She looked around and frowned. ‘Where’s Ed?’
‘I saw him leave earlier, Aunt Grace. Maybe he needed to be alone a while.’
‘Aye, mebbe.’
Sally crossed to a cupboard, took out a half-loaf and began on the meal. She was cutting it into thin slices when the front door rattled. She turned, but her gentle smile froze at the sight of her uncle.
Swaying in the doorway, he glared at them in turn and her stomach tightened. Something unpleasant was coming. After years of experience, her intuition was razor sharp; it hadn’t proved wrong yet.
Ed ambled to the bed, dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands. His sobs filled the kitchen and Grace rushed to him. She put her arms around him but he shrugged them off savagely.
‘Leave me be, woman.’
‘Ed—’
‘Leave me be!’
Her face crumpled and Sally bit her lip. Stan passed Jonathan to her and rose. She caught his sleeve. ‘No, Stan—’
‘It’s all right, Sally.’
She held her breath when he laid a hand on her uncle’s shoulder. Ed’s back stiffened and from the dread in Grace’s eyes, it was clear she shared her concerns. He could barely contain his bitterness for Stan at the best of times – consumed with grief and drink, he was capable of doing, and saying, anything.
Suddenly, Ed leapt up, lip curled in a snarl, and Stan stepped back in surprise. ‘Father?’
‘Don’t you call me that. Never call me that, not ever again, d’you hear? Only one child in this house had that right and she’s laying cowd in that bed.’
Grace’s gasp shattered the silence. She gripped the hair at her temples. ‘Nay … What have you done?’
Stan whimpered, and anger burst through Sally. She placed Jonathan in the basket and ran to him. Devastation screamed from his eyes and her fury, which she’d always struggled to contain when witnessing injustice, erupted.
‘I never had you down as a bad man, Uncle Ed, but that … How could you be so cruel?’ she cried. ‘My heart is breaking for your loss. To imagine what you’re going through … However, people make mistakes. Aunt Grace shall suffer hers the rest of her days, but Stan? What sin has he committed? From the moment he was born, he was your son. He’s your son, Uncle Ed, in every way that matters.’
‘You … you knew?’
Breath caught in her throat. She turned slowly. ‘Stan, I’m so sorry. I gave my word—’
‘Nay!’ Wild-eyed, he turned to Grace. ‘Tell me they’re lying. Please, Mam!’
The fight left Ed. Like Shield, earlier, he lifted his face and howled. ‘Stan … Lord, what have I done?’
Her cousin’s expression turned empty. Sally fumbled for his hand but he snatched it away.
‘Everything makes sense. The way you’ve allus treated me … All my life, I’ve tried to make you proud, make you love me.’
‘I do love thee! I loved thee the moment tha were born. But I can see him. I allus see him when I look at you. And you,’ Ed added to Grace. ‘I watched youse earlier, breaking your hearts in front of me, and I couldn’t …’ He ground his fist into his chest. ‘It hurts too much in here. Our Peggy kept this family together. She gave me right to be here. What have I, now, eh?’
‘Oh, Ed.’ Grace reached out, gasping when Stan knocked away her hand. ‘Stan—’
‘Get away from him. This is your fault.’ He embraced Ed, a small cry escaping him when Ed returned it. ‘All these years … Who was it?’
‘Stan, love, I never meant—’
‘Tell me!’
Sally put her arm around Grace’s shoulders. ‘Stan, please—’
‘As for you.’ His features contorted in disgust. ‘You’re no longer family to me, d’you hear? I thought … we’d become friends. And all the time … I wish you’d never come.’
‘No, Stan, we are, we—’
‘You lied to me! You’re as bad as her.’
‘No, please.’ She reached out to him but her aunt, face oddly calm, pulled her back.
‘This ain’t Sally’s fault. I begged her not to tell. This has gone on long enough. I can’t do it any more.’ Grace paused. ‘Sally’s more involved than you think.’
Ed’s head jerked up. ‘Grace, you don’t have to—’
‘Aye, Ed, I do. It’s time I paid for my wickedness. I should’ve told this long afore this night.’
‘Aunt Grace? Aunt Grace, you’re scaring me. What should you have told?’
‘Think on this,’ Ed pressed. ‘There’ll be no going back.’
Slowly, tentatively, Grace caressed her husband’s cheek. He closed his eyes and she sighed. ‘Stan, Sally. I love you more than you’ll ever know. Whatever changes by the telling of this, please, allus remember that.’
‘Aunt Grace?’
Grace squeezed her eyes shut. When she uttered what she’d clearly hoped she never would, her tone was flat.
‘Jonathan Swann was father to you both. You’re brother and sister.’