Chapter 25

BY THE LIGHT of the good fire, Dolly held up her hand and, for the dozenth time, admired her ring.

‘I can’t believe I’m wearing this. I knew Mam were keeping it for when I wed but still, it’s a dream come true.’ She stroked hair from Tommy’s brow. ‘Did Father mention whose it once were?’

He continued gazing into the fire.

‘It were my granny’s. D’you know, her and my grandfather were wed over fifty year? Let’s pray ours lasts as long, eh? Tommy?’

‘Sorry … What did you say?’

Rolling her eyes, Dolly chuckled, and Sally tried to imitate Ivy’s smile but it was impossible.

‘Is that jug empty, Arthur?’

Puffing on his pipe, he was watching Tommy through the plumes of smoke. When his wife jabbed him in the ribs, he jumped. ‘’Ere, what were that in aid of?’

‘Hell’s teeth. What’s wrong with youse two the night? I were saying, have we supped up?’

‘Oh. Aye, aye. Have I to fetch another?’ he asked hopefully.

Ivy’s eyebrows rose to meet her hairline. ‘Nay, you bleedin’ well shouldn’t! You and Tommy’s had your fill by the looks of it. Like talking to the wall, it is. It’s your beds youse need, not more ale.’

Dolly grinned. ‘Aye, I’m tired; must be all the excitement. I think I’ll be away home.’

For the first time, Tommy’s face relaxed in a ghost of a smile. ‘I’ll walk thee.’ He’d donned jacket and cap and was at the door before she’d reached for her bonnet.

Sally busied herself with Jonathan. She could feel Tommy’s stare but didn’t lift her head.

The rest of the day had been as uncomfortable as she’d feared. She’d tried her very best to appear cheerful. She’d swallowed her pain and praised Shaun when he’d shown off his latest carving. She’d managed to laugh along when Ivy told of the preacher discovering they’d lied to him – Ivy had feigned ignorance and he’d huffed and puffed ‘like a pair of owd bellows’ yet had no choice but to drop the matter.

Worst of all, she’d had to endure Dolly’s adoring looks to Tommy and hear about their future, which the pretty bride-to-be had evidently planned long ago.

Throughout, his presence overrode everything. Like a moth to a flame, she was powerless to resist him. When her defiant eyes flicked to him, his grey-blue ones met them every time and she’d looked away, afraid she’d reveal her feelings. His, however, didn’t waver.

Now, as evening turned to night, she was at breaking point. He resented her being in his home, had only refrained from speaking out for Ivy’s sake. Why else was he unable to take his penetrating gaze off her?

That everyone was avoiding the attack wasn’t helping. Whether it was to spare her embarrassment, so as not to upset Ivy, or they were too enraged, she didn’t know. It hung over them, clogging the air like smoke.

She couldn’t leave without voicing it. Whether the men accepted her apology remained to be seen, but apologise she must. She liked Arthur a great deal. And Tommy … However sharp the pain of unrequited love, she’d sooner have him as a friend than nothing.

She tucked the blankets around the baby and stole a look across the room. Misery clenched her stomach to see him still watching her. His anger must be eating away at him and understandably so. But dear God, it hurt.

As Dolly trilled goodbyes, Tommy turned the knob and she screeched when the door burst inwards. A black shape threw itself at him, knocking him to the floor.

Shaun collapsed in fits of laughter. Tommy glared at him and his guffaws grew, smothering Sally’s gasp.

‘Shield! Come away at once!’ She rushed forward, face ablaze. ‘I’m sorry, I completely forgot about him. He’s been outside this whole time and … Shield, will you get off!’ To her surprise, Tommy chuckled.

‘Ay, cabbage breath, how are you? Tha frightened me half to death, then. Come on, let me up.’ With a struggle, he pushed the dog off, stood and, for the first time since her arrival, smiled at her. ‘Gorra thing for me, ain’t he?’

Relief like no other washed through her. That he wasn’t angry, was smiling at her … She laughed softly. ‘It seems so.’

Something akin to pain appeared behind his eyes. ‘It’s been nice seeing thee, Sally.’

Her tone was just as gentle. ‘You too, Tommy.’

‘Time’s running on, lad. Dolly wants to be home.’

Arthur’s words shattered the moment and Tommy went a dull pink.

Sally stood rooted to the spot. The way he’d looked at her … almost as if … No. Her cruel mind was playing with her. He was in love with Dolly, was marrying Dolly. Why wouldn’t these wicked imaginings leave her?

Head bowed, Tommy exited the cottage but instead of following, Dolly turned. Her expression was blank and when she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Goodbye, Sally.’

Before she could respond, Dolly was gone. She blinked, dazed. Dolly sensed her feelings for her beloved. She knew. Dear God, she knew …

Shaun yawned. ‘I’m away to bed. Goodnight.’

Along with his mother and father, Sally mumbled goodnight to him. At first, she thought it was her imagination but no – definite tension had filled the kitchen. Ivy and Arthur looked decidedly uncomfortable, eyes flitting anywhere but at her.

Lord above, they didn’t know, too? Was it so obvious?

The agonising silence grew and in desperation she blurted the first thing to enter her head: ‘May Shield sleep inside, tonight, Mrs Morgan? He’ll be no trouble.’ She almost cringed at the inanity, but it seemed to work.

Ivy smiled her usual smile. ‘Aye, he can kip by the fire. Now, I’ll brew a fresh pot and make up a plate of bread and butter then we’d best get some shut-eye, or we’ll be fit for nowt come the morrow.’

She needed to be alone, to make sense of these whirling emotions. As soon as she could, she’d make her excuses and retire, she vowed. She just hoped she’d escape before Tommy returned. She couldn’t see him again tonight, didn’t trust herself, for surely he’d sense her longing. He was bound to, if everyone else had. The shame of that really would be too much.

Sipping her tea, her eyes strayed to the door continually, heart banging. The moment her cup was empty, she lifted the basket.

‘You off to get some kip, lass?’

‘Yes. The travelling has worn me out,’ she lied. She bid them goodnight, stroked Shield, then escaped to the familiar room next door.

She undressed and slipped beneath the blanket on the sofa. Today had been a disaster. What did tomorrow hold? Where would she go? Her future was as uncertain as the last time she’d lain beneath this roof. However, at least then she’d had an idea of her intentions. All she faced now was stark emptiness.

Yet again, Tommy crept into her mind and she moaned softly. Had Dolly, Ivy and Arthur sensed her burning love? She’d been such a stupid, naive fool …

She heard the sound of the cottage door opening. Murmurs followed, intermingled with Ivy banking down the fire. Two sets of feet ascended the stairs, then silence.

Fine hairs on Sally’s arms stood to attention. Tommy was still in the kitchen; somehow, she could feel his presence. She listened intently. Footsteps sounded and she waited for his tread on the stairs, but they drew nearer. Through the gap beneath the door, two shadows appeared.

She held her breath, her body, to her shame, tingling. Suddenly, the feet disappeared. Moments later, they mounted the stairs.

Throughout the lonely night, confusion and longing were constant companions. Whys and what-ifs tormented her. Should she have gone to the door, asked what he wanted? What would he have answered?

When sleep did claim her, she woke frequently. Stirring again as dawn broke, she threw back the blanket in defeat, dressed and went to the window. Slivers of silver-white sliced the indigo sky. Distant birdsong had replaced owls’ hoots. A wispy mist caressed the hilltops beyond, adding to the ethereal scene, and calmness enveloped her.

She loved it here. Despite the terrible memories, Spring Row would always hold a special place in her heart. She’d give anything to remain, to raise her son amidst the sweeping greenness and clear air. But it was an impossible dream she couldn’t fulfil. Shortly, they would leave once more. And they would never return.

Scratching sounded at the door. She opened it a crack and Shield’s tongue poked through, making her smile. She led him back through the kitchen, opened the cottage door and watched him trot down the row.

The sky had lightened further and, folding her arms, she gazed about. She took deep breaths of sharp air. She knew wherever she went today would be rife with factories and cotton mills’ belching chimneys, and closed her eyes, savouring every lungful.

At first, she didn’t sense anything amiss. No sound penetrated the stillness. It was an icy shiver the length of her spine that made her open her eyes.

The shock was so overwhelming, not a muscle moved. Her only reaction was the widening of her eyes.

‘Hello, whore.’

The hissed words acted like a hammer blow. Her mouth opened but before the scream reached her lips, Joseph’s fist slammed into her face.

She knew a split second of intense pain. Then the world faded.

It had been too good an opportunity to miss.

Joseph caught Sally as her legs buckled. Her weight no encumbrance to his powerful strength, he threw her over his shoulder with ease. At the feel of her, droplets of sweat sprang at his temples and blood pumped furiously through his veins. He sprinted to the hedgerow he and Nancy had spent last night hiding behind. He couldn’t afford to hang around. The consequences would be dire if Arthur and his son discovered him.

He hadn’t planned it to be like this, wanted to take his time, get it just right. But seeing her standing there … He’d been unable to hold back. He could scarcely believe he had the bitch at last.

Stiffness from hours of crouching, he now forgot; the wait had been worth it. Not once had his narrowed gaze, trained on the Morgans’ door, shifted. Despite his dew-drenched clothes, he hadn’t noticed the cold; adrenaline, coupled with the flask of whisky he’d brought, kept him warm.

He couldn’t say the same for Nancy. She’d done nothing but gripe and he’d used the back of his hand numerous times to shut her up. Eventually, she’d fallen silent and he was able to keep watch in peace.

Shaking in anticipation of catching a glimpse of Sally, he’d waited. His excitement reached fever pitch when, at one point, the door opened. But it turned to deep frustration when the Morgan son and a young woman appeared. Then a massive great dog launched itself at the son, knocking him flying, and Sally’s voice had sounded. His mouth had twisted in glee.

Knowing she was definitely there, he found the waiting easier; she had to leave some time and he’d be ready. The son had left with the woman, returned alone and soon afterwards, light at the cottage window went out. Realising he wouldn’t see Sally that night, he’d prepared himself for the long hours stretching ahead.

Now, he grinned, thrilled his perseverance had paid off. The sight of her had struck him dumb. The terror in her eyes’ blue depths … He’d missed that. All those weeks of sleepless nights and drink-sodden stupors her absence induced, his futile meeting with the workhouse master and hours tramping Manchester, and now …

He could barely breathe. He had her. And by God, she wouldn’t escape again.

He flung her to the damp grass, fell to his knees and gazed in awe.

Nancy, too, gazed at the woman she’d come to loathe. She was even prettier up close, she saw with scorching envy.

The wife. The one legally bound to Joseph. Her Joseph. Suddenly, the prick of doubt she felt when overhearing customers’ conversations in the shop, of how Sally had suffered at his hands, returned. But as always, she forced it away. Vicious lies, that’s all they were. Spread by this bitch.

He wasn’t the monster they thought. They didn’t know him like her. He loved her and she loved him. They were meant to be together. And once he’d dealt with Sally, they would. Soon, she’d bear the name Mrs Goden.

‘I’ve got thee. I’ve finally got thee,’ Joseph murmured, his tone laced with menace. Eyes travelling the length of her, he licked his lips. Her figure was more rounded. She was fuller of breast and hip. Motherhood suited her.

This evoked, for the first time, faint curiosity for the child he’d spawned and he glanced to the Morgans’. Yet as swiftly, it vanished. Children were nothing but a trial. Like bloodthirsty leeches, they drained your soul. They sucked and sucked long after you were bone dry, left you potless, bitter and old before your time. You’d only to look at Alice for proof.

Turning his attention back to his wife, his pulse raced with thoughts of her naked body. Christ, what he’d do to it when he got her alone … Feeling Nancy’s jealous watch, he tore away his gaze with a frustrated growl. He couldn’t risk Nancy flouncing off. The old whore had almost served her purpose. Almost.

He threw Sally over his shoulder again, shot a smirk at the Morgans’ and signalled to Nancy to follow. Passing the dog that lay beside a ditch, a pool of blood spreading beneath its head, he smiled proudly. He’d taken care of it before making his move on Sally; after its attack on the stationmaster, he wasn’t taking any chances. When it wandered by the hedgerow, he’d smashed its head with a thick branch. It dropped without a sound.

He set off across a tree-lined field. Sally’s arms bumped limply against his back and he smiled again, her touch comforting.

‘Where we going, love?’

His face melted in a snarl. ‘Just get a move on. Folk will be up and about, soon. We’ll be all right if we stick to the fields but happen we do pass someone, and they ask what’s up with her, I’ll do the talking. You say nowt, d’you hear? When we reach the end of the next field, you slip through the fence and cut across O’Brady’s farm. It’ll bring you out near your house. You stay put today, right?’

Nancy nodded and he strode on, mind on the fun he’d soon have with Sally.

You have my permission and gladly. I know you’ll look after her, make her happy.

Staring at the ceiling, Tommy let his thoughts run. He didn’t have the strength to fight them, had given up trying hours ago.

She’s a good lass and like her mother afore her, will make a fine wife.

The speech echoed on.

You’re the only fella our Dolly’s ever wanted. It does my owd heart good to know you feel the same.

Knowing what came next, he squeezed his eyes shut.

You’re a sound lad, Tommy, a sound lad.

Dolly’s father couldn’t have been more wrong if he’d tried. A sound lad? It was almost laughable. Maybe, once. Not any more.

He swung his legs out of bed, pulled on his trousers and paced the room. Glancing at his sleeping brother, envy churned in his breast. What he wouldn’t give to be him, without a worry in the world.

He’d thought the day couldn’t get worse. Knelt in proposal to a woman he’d all but ruined and didn’t truly love was soul-destroying enough. What occurred next … Dear God, he’d never known shock like it, had to stop himself crying out. Sally. His Sally … A blade of grass could have felled him. In that moment, everything, everything, turned on its head.

Remembering what he’d almost done last night, his step faltered. He’d been a hair’s breadth from entering her room, declaring his love, insisting the proposal was a mistake. Where he found the strength to desist, he didn’t know, but was glad he had. He’d made enough of a fool of himself gawping at her all day – until, to his mortification, she’d avoided eye contact.

And there was Dolly. He must marry Dolly.

Standing before Nat Jenkins, Tommy had almost hoped he’d refuse permission. Of course, he hadn’t. He was well aware of Dolly’s long-held wish to become Mrs Morgan. But he hadn’t consented purely out of love for his daughter. He sincerely believed his future son-in-law a sound man.

That bred within Tommy a tumour of shame that grew still. It was ruined, all of it. He’d made a mess of everything.

Time alone, to gather his thoughts before his family roused, was crucial. Mindful of the creaky spots, he descended the stairs. A bitter breeze met his bare arms and chest midway and his gaze went to the cottage door. He frowned to see it wide open.

He glanced to the fire and, seeing Shield absent, swallowed hard. Sally was awake. She must have taken the dog out to relieve itself. Despite his brain telling him to return to his room, avoid her for sanity’s sake, his legs refused. Disgusted at his weakness, he made for the door.

Eyes hungry for a glimpse of her swept the row, but it was deserted. Maybe she’d taken a walk with Shield; but to leave the door wide …? A sense that something wasn’t right stirred in him and he headed for the front room.

He knocked, heart banging. What if she answered, had merely let Shield out and forgotten to close the door? he thought suddenly. What on earth would he say? But all that greeted him was silence and the sliver of dread returned. He turned the knob.

At first glance, the room appeared empty. Catching sight of the basket, his worry abated. Sally couldn’t be far. She wouldn’t leave the child unattended for long.

He returned to the cottage door and scanned the row again. Still there was no sign and, despite his reasoning, unease resurfaced. Joseph’s snarling face crashed through his mind and fear clutched his heart. Surely to God, no …

He slapped the wall in fury and raced upstairs.