The Forgotten Daughter

‘Flora, I have a letter from our bank. I’m to go in to speak with the manager.’

Flora looked up from sorting the dirty linen. She’d filled the copper in the corner of the kitchen, set up the mangle and grated the soap in readiness, though she hadn’t relished the task, as she was feeling tired before she’d even begun. Wiping her brow with her arm, she looked up at Cyrus. ‘Oh, what can that be about? We’ve not spent money we don’t have, have we?’

‘I don’t know. We shouldn’t have, but the letter does say, “to discuss your current financial position”. Which sounds ominous.’

‘Oh dear, and we have Christmas upon us and I have put in a large order at the grocer’s, as your mother’s coming.’ Worry flared up in Flora. Yes, money was tight because, apart from the little they both earned teaching music and doing the odd concert with the new orchestra they had helped to form, the only other money coming in was Cyrus’s allowance. But with no rent to pay, they scraped by, especially as Olivia had taken over the payment of Alice’s school fees.

Thinking of Olivia, it still niggled at Flora that they’d never got to the bottom of why she had been so upset that day. She’d insisted that she’d had too much sun, or eaten something that hadn’t agreed with her, and they’d had to leave it at that. But the more Flora pondered over it, the more she was sure that there had been more to it.

Cyrus moved closer to her and put his arm around her. Feeling him close comforted her. She gazed up at him. He looked so much better now, as he’d filled out to his normal weight and was in a good place mentally. His nightmares had lessened, too. But now he had worry lines around his eyes as he frowned. ‘You look peaky, darling, you’re not overdoing it, are you? I’ll always leave what I’m doing to help you.’

‘I know, but I can manage. It’s just . . . well, it’s early days, but I think I may be pregnant again.’

‘So soon? Oh, darling, that’s good news, but do you mind? I mean, Freddy is barely three months old.’

‘No, I’m thrilled. All the children we are blessed with will be welcomed by me, and I know by you, too. I was made to mother your offspring, darling.’

‘Oh, Flora, my darling. I do love you so much. And now I want to show you how much.’

The usual sensations flared up and filled her with his love, as he gently took her breast in his hand. His lips brushed her neck, and she was lost. Taking her hand, he led her to their bedroom. There, they made love in a way that told of their abandonment of everything, no matter that it was morning, and the washing was waiting to be done. No matter that they had worries about money. For this moment in time, there were just the two of them, taking each other to exquisite heights in an outpouring of their love for one another.

As they lay quietly, both exhausted, their hands entwined, Cyrus looked over at Flora. ‘I’m so sorry that I haven’t been able to get employment yet. I really thought I would have got that job I applied for at the bank. It shocked me when they told me that I hadn’t been successful. I’ll make a renewed effort, and work in one of the factories, if need be.’

‘No, my love. I’d never have you doing that. Everything will be all right, I’m sure of it.’

‘I’m not so sure. This notice from the bank reads more like a demand for my presence. I feel something has gone wrong. I’ll pop in there this afternoon and make an appointment. I can only think that it has to do with my allowance, and that maybe the money from the will has run out. I’ve never given much thought to how long it would last; and lately, when I have, I didn’t want to trouble my mother about it. She seems to have enough on her plate. Anyway, if that is so, well, it will force my hand. I will have to find some work.’

‘But your writing is important. And your teaching and composing. As well as the work you do in preparing the concerts – all of that is important to who you are.’

Flora had dropped off to sleep in the chair when Cyrus came back from the bank the next afternoon – the first appointment he could get.

The morning had been a busy one for her, and Freddy had been fractious. But her worry wasn’t for him, as it was just a teething problem ailing Freddy, and she’d managed to soothe him and get him to sleep. It was Alice who was worrying her.

Alice had started a cough just over a week ago, and it was getting worse. There had been no soothing her, but eventually she’d dropped off, snuggled under a blanket on the sofa.

Flora had sat down for a few moments, intending to reread the letter she’d had from Mags. It had been addressed to her old address, and the new owners had dropped it off for her.

She’d felt a pang of guilt at not keeping in touch with Mags, but life had taken over. She’d never heard from Ella, but often thought of them both. Reading Mags’s letter had upset her a little, as she was going to marry Harold. Mags and Harold! Somehow Flora couldn’t be happy about it, especially as the letter said that Mags was sorry she couldn’t ask her to the wedding, but hoped they could continue to be friends and write occasionally to each other. It felt as though Mags had crossed over to the other side, though part of what she wrote denied this:

I’m always thinking of you, Flors. And it is jolly beastly the way your family treat you, but no matter how much I badger Harold, he just won’t agree to making things up with you. He says that everything is best left as it is. That you have made a life for yourself, and that’s that. He tells me you have two children now . . .

Just before she’d dropped off, Flora had thought that Cook was a double agent, and then she had smiled. None of it mattered to her now. She had all she needed in life.

‘Oh, did I wake you, darling? Sorry. Are you feeling all right? Is Alice all right?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. And Alice is asleep. Though I’m hoping for good news from you, darling, as I think Alice needs to see a doctor. How did it go?’

In her heart, she knew. She could see by Cyrus’s face that he was even more worried than he had been before he’d left for the bank.

‘Not well. It was as I thought. The allowance stopped in September, and no one thought to let me know. Several of my cheques have been sent back. One to the grocer, I’m sorry to say. Last month’s account hasn’t been paid. And one to the coal merchant.’

Standing up, Flora went to him. His arms opened and enclosed her, and she could feel his despair.

‘We’ll think of something. There’s things we can sell, and there is the Christmas concert in the church hall – the tickets for that are going really well. And I can go to the pub and ask if I can play there again. I used to go down really well.’

‘If only they liked violin music, I would be there like a shot. But couldn’t you teach me those London songs on the piano? I hate to think of you going out at night.’

‘I don’t see why not, as they are all simple chords. And we’ll come up with more ways of making money, I’m sure. We just need to sort out something for the immediate future, so we can pay the grocer and the coal merchant and receive my orders for Christmas.’

‘Oh, Flora, I love you. I’ll make a renewed effort, once Christmas is over, to get employment. Something must come up. I wish now that I hadn’t taken my discharge and had stayed as an officer.’

‘No, I couldn’t have been apart from you any longer. I’m sure something will happen; we’ll get through this together. We can always sell the house and live in rented accommodation.’

‘That’s a last resort. I’ll go to the pawn shop today. We need to pay the grocer and coal merchant as soon as possible. We have to eat and be warm over Christmas.’

A heavy feeling settled in Flora. How had it come to this? Her mind went to her parents, and how they and her brothers would have everything they needed over Christmas, while their daughter and grandchildren had practically nothing. But then she and Cyrus and their children had everything, as they had love. With this thought, she cheered up and helped Cyrus dig out what they owned that the pawn shop would be interested in.

When Olivia arrived, it was with more bags than Flora expected her to have. She looked a lot thinner than she had on her visit in September, and her face had a pensive expression.

‘Mother, dear, are you unwell? Why didn’t you let us know? You could have come sooner.’

‘No. I – I have to talk to you, Cyrus. How I am going to say what I have to say, I do not know. You will hate me, and yet what I did, I couldn’t help. And now I have been abandoned.’

Flora sensed that whatever it was that troubled Olivia was going to have a devastating effect on her and Cyrus, but while she didn’t want to hear what Olivia had to say, she felt compelled to facilitate her saying it. ‘I’ll take the children upstairs for a while, and you can talk to Cyrus, Olivia.’

‘Oh, just let me hug them first. Oh? Is Alice not well? What is it, darling? Tell Grandmother.’ Alice had stirred and smiled a weak smile at Olivia as she lifted the child. ‘There, there, have you a cold, my darling?’

Flora’s trepidation at what her mother-in-law had to say to Cyrus left her, as her attention was taken by Alice. Coming out of a hug with her grandmother, the child began another fit of coughing.

‘Dear, dear, Alice, my poor darling. How long has she had that cough? It sounds like the croup! Has she seen a doctor?’

‘No, Mother, but she does need to. Flora has tried everything, but Alice’s cough refuses to respond to all the usual treatments: inhaling friar’s balsam, beef teas, and hot-water pans applied to her chest. We had planned a talk to you, too. My allowance has run out, and we were hoping you can help us out a little, just to get a doctor for Alice.’

‘Oh, my darling son, I can’t.’ Tears filled Olivia’s eyes. ‘I – I need to sit down, I have to tell you . . . I—’

Helping Olivia to a chair, Cyrus asked Flora not to leave the room. ‘I think we should both hear what Mother has to say, darling.’

Flora couldn’t speak. She could sense Cyrus’s fear and it compounded her own. ‘Alice, darling, Mummy and Daddy need to talk to Grandmother in the front room. Do you think you can snuggle on the sofa in here for a short while?’ The coughing bout had passed, but as Flora looked at the too-pale face of her daughter, her heart felt torn with anguish. ‘I can’t leave her, Cyrus. Whatever you have to say, Olivia, will have to wait. I need to be with Alice.’

Olivia nodded. A silence fell. It was fraught with tension. Cyrus sat next to his mother, holding her hand for a moment, but as soon as Olivia calmed, he came to lean over Alice and stroked her hair. ‘She’s very hot, Flora darling. I’m worried for her.’

‘I know. Will you get me a bowl of cold water and a flannel, so that I can sponge her? That might bring her temperature down.’

As Cyrus went through to the kitchen, Olivia stood up. ‘I’ll keep an eye on Freddy, maybe take him for a walk, if that’s all right.’

‘He’s beautiful. Is he always asleep?’ There was a lighter tone to Olivia’s voice, which gave Flora a little hope. Maybe it’s something and nothing that’s troubling her.

‘He is a sleepyhead, which is just as well, as I’m constantly tired. Oh, and I have some news for you.’ Flora smiled, though she least felt like it, but her news was happy news. ‘You may hear me vomiting in the mornings.’

‘Mother!’ Cyrus had come back into the room just as Olivia said this. ‘That isn’t the sort of reaction we expected from you. Flora and I are very happy that another child is on the way. What is the matter with you?’

Instinctively Flora picked up the blanket that had been wrapped around Alice and enclosed her child in it once more. Holding Alice close to her, she kept part of the blanket over the child’s ears.

Olivia pulled a chair from under the table and sat down heavily on it. She leaned her arm on the table. ‘I have terrible news for you.’

Flora tightened her grip on Alice. There was no resistance from the child. She seemed weaker than ever, and not interested in anything going on in the room.

‘I – I’m sorry. So sorry; please don’t hate me. I love you both and need you.’

‘I have no easy way to tell you. You share the same father. You are half-brother and sister.’

Flora felt a scream rising within her as her world crashed around her, but all that came from her was a hoarse whisper . . . ‘No. no. Please God, no!’

Beside her, she felt Cyrus’s body tremble. ‘Oh God, no! Mother, what are you saying?’

‘I had an affair with George Roford. I was never married. I have been in love with George – and he with me – for thirty-five years. The picture I gave you of your father, Cyrus, was a cousin of mine, and he did die in the Boer War, and it was his parents in the picture with him. I only had my sister left in the world, and she agreed to keep to my story. Our parents had been only children and they died when we were in our twenties; they didn’t leave us a penny, only debts. My affair came to an end when your father was taken ill, Flora. It broke my heart. It was like a bereavement. But, poor darling, his health meant that he could no longer get away from home to spend time with me.

‘He loves your mother, Flora, and always has. He is a man capable of loving two women. When you told me about your Aunt Pru and Freddy, it devastated me. But then I worked out that his affair with Pru happened during the time George and I were estranged. Your mother had found out about me. Her own sons were five and three at the time, and George broke off our relationship. I didn’t see him for years, but he continued to take care of us, paying an allowance into a bank account that I set up for you, Cyrus; and for me too, into my own account.

‘I contacted George through his solicitor when I realized who you were, Flora. All I got back was a letter saying that George was disgusted with me, for not telling you who your father was, Cyrus. He said that if I had done, this incestuous marriage couldn’t have taken place. He said that he was going to cut all ties with me, and stop both allowances. I – I have nothing. No income, and I will soon have no home, as I am unable to keep up with the rent payments on my apartment. I have been given two months to pay up or leave. I – I need help, and you are all I have to turn to, and yet how can you ever forgive me?’

Flora felt as if she would faint. She couldn’t breathe, such was her shock. She stared at Olivia, and then at her beloved Cyrus. This can’t be happening. It can’t . . . Oh God! Oh God, help me! Her body filled with silent screams that she dared not give vent to, for fear of frightening Alice and waking Freddy. Cyrus’s arm tightened around her, the trembling of his body now a violent shaking. Olivia had her head on her arm, leaning over the table. Sobs racked her, as if she were a rag doll being shaken by an invisible hand.

Looking down at her, Flora saw a trickle of blood run down her chin. ‘Cyrus, oh, Cyrus, help me. We have to get Alice to hospital.’

‘What?’ Cyrus was in the grip of shock concerning what he’d heard. He looked at Flora as if she’d gone mad.

Alice coughed again. Blood sprayed from her. Cyrus jumped up and helped Flora to rise. Not knowing how she stood on legs that trembled beneath her, Flora made herself walk towards the door. ‘Olivia, you have to look after Freddy. Alice is desperately ill. We have to take her to the hospital. We’ll deal with everything else later.’ Flora didn’t want there to be a later. For now, her worry for her daughter consumed her. She could think of nothing else. ‘Run to the end of the street, Cyrus, and get a cab. Go, darling. I know you’re in shock, but we have to save Alice.’