‘No, honey child, you can’t do it. The workhouse? No! I’ll see meself dead first. You move in here. You’ll be welcome. More than welcome.’
‘I know. But there is something I haven’t told you, and it could mean you are in danger if you help me. You see, I have been a fool, I . . .’
When Ella had finished telling Rowena how she’d duped Shamus out of the money she needed, she was mortified to see the look of fear on her dear friend’s face.
‘I’m sorry. So sorry, Rowena. I didn’t mean to put you and your family in danger. I only wanted to try and get what was owed to me from my family, and Shamus was my only hope. I wanted to get Paulo better and . . . Oh, Rowena. What else can I do, other than go into the workhouse? If I agree to marry Shamus, I will save us all; but if I don’t, and I come here, I will put you in danger. I can’t keep myself until my baby is born – I have no income. He can’t touch me if I am in the workhouse. And he can’t blame you for my escape from him. Oh, why did I do it? Why did I leave my poor darling Paulo?’
The tears that had seemed like a dry bed of sand in her chest since Paulo’s funeral, and hadn’t freed her from their grip when she had cried with fear of Shamus, now released themselves. Ella sank into Rowena’s arms.
‘There, honey child, let it all out.’
When Ella finally lifted her head, she saw tears glistening in Rowena’s eyes and felt her love. Her guilt was compounded. That she should bring trouble to the door of this lovely lady and her family. The workhouse is a fitting place for me.
‘And tell me, honey child: your sister wouldn’t help you?’
Ella had mentioned finding a sister, but had only said there was no legacy for her. Now she told Rowena the horrifying condition that her sister had placed on helping her out.
Rowena was quiet for a moment.
‘You ain’t going to like what I’m going to say, Missy Ella, but I would take that offer of your sister’s. For your child’s sake, I would.’
‘No, I can’t bear to do it. I cannot be without Paulo’s and my child. It would be like selling him or her, to save my soul. I can’t believe you think I should do that.’
‘No, it wouldn’t. Look at it from the child’s point of view. What life will it have in a workhouse? Cos I hear tell that once yous in there, they never lets yous out. Children die of disease every day in there.’
‘I have no choice. I cannot do what you say.’
‘Well then I will write to Flora and ask her to help you. She’ll send you some money, I’m sure. And I’ll visit you and sneak in some food for you. And if you’ll let me, I’ll take in your child. I’ll bring it up for you, but will bring him or her to visit you whenever I can.’
‘Thank you, Rowena, that is something that I will consider, but if it is possible, I will keep my child with me. And we will get out of there somehow.’
Leaving Rowena’s house, Ella made her way back to Cricklewood. Her head ached and her bones held a weariness that made her feel they wouldn’t carry her for much longer, but at least the spring day had some warmth to offer.
She decided there was no time like the present. There was nothing she could do about her possessions, and she was afraid to go back to the house, in case Shamus was waiting for her. And so she made for the vicarage.
As she stood on the step of the vicarage and tapped on the light oak door, her resolve began to waver.
Though a Catholic, she hadn’t been a churchgoer and couldn’t imagine the Catholic priests helping her. They wouldn’t understand – how could they? Having never married or had children, or known the problems that brings, they didn’t seem to live in the real world.
A woman opened the door to her. ‘What can I do for yer, Missus?’
‘I’m homeless. I wanted to ask the vicar for help.’
‘I see. And I see you have your belly full an’ all. Are yer married?’
‘Widowed.’
‘Hmm, that’s what they all say.’
‘I have my marriage certificate and my husband’s death certificate in my bag.’
‘Beg your pardon then. Though I must say, you aren’t the usual type we get at the door. You have a foreign sound to your voice, and you talk well. Like moneyed folk does.’
‘I – I . . .’ Ella’s body swayed.
‘Here, are you ill? Come inside and sit down, I’ll call the vicar’s wife, she’ll know what to do.’
The vicar’s wife introduced herself as Mrs Paine and then instructed the woman who had opened the door. ‘Betty, go and get a drink of water for . . .?’
‘My name’s . . . Ella. Ella Rennaise.’
The woman scurried off.
‘Betty is our housekeeper, and she tells me that you are homeless. Once you have had a sip of water and feel better, please tell me how this sorry state of affairs came about.’
A tall woman, with a way of talking that was kindly but intimidating, Mrs Paine sat down on one of the other chairs next to Ella. There were six chairs altogether, lined up in the large hallway at the bottom of a wide, red-carpeted staircase. The smell of wax polish, and the squeak of shoes on the shiny wooden floor of the hall, reminded Ella of her schooldays.
After hearing as much of her story as Ella was prepared to tell, peppered with fibs, Mrs Paine did something Ella wouldn’t have expected of her; she put out her hand and covered Ella’s tightly clasped ones. ‘How shocking. And how sad. So you have no family that you know of in Poland, and now that your poor husband has died, no pension coming in. And being so heavily with child, you cannot work. Nor will you be able to, once your child is born, as it will need caring for. Well, I have the very place in mind.’
Ella held her breath, all the while praying it wasn’t the workhouse. She’d prefer a correction convent to that, but had made her mind up that if it was to be the workhouse, then she would just have to get on with it. Anything was better than being forced to marry Shamus.
‘This place is where my husband and I had a parish, before we were moved here. It is in Lexden, near Colchester. It houses the homeless and those too poor to manage. My husband is still on the board and attends their meetings. He will have to propose you, as you haven’t been committed there. But he does have a meeting there tomorrow, as it happens. We will take you there with us, as I know they do have vacancies and, with your background, once your baby is born you can help in the infirmary. They are very short-staffed and are desperate for experienced people.’
‘Thank you. Thank you so very much.’ Ella swallowed hard. She didn’t want to cry. Crying brought her low and weakened her resolve.
‘Tonight you will have to throw yourself on the mercy of the Salvation Army. They may give you a bed, but if they are all taken, then at least a chair for the night. Have you eaten?’
‘Not since twelve noon today.’
‘I’ll get Betty to make you a sandwich. You can sit here and eat it. And be back here by nine in the morning, as we have quite a journey to undertake.’
The sandwich was delicious, two slices of bread filled with mashed boiled egg. While she ate, Ella thought over what to do for the night and decided she’d have to take the chance and go back to her room. She needed to wash and change her clothes. If Mrs Paine noticed anything tomorrow, she would say that she had left a change of clothing at a friend’s home. But that the friend couldn’t put her up, as she only had the one room, and four of them lived in it. How easy it is to weave a web of lies, when needs must.
Ella stood out of sight and peeped round the corner of her street. She’d sat on a low wall near to a park for over an hour, waiting for night to fall. When it had, she’d made her way towards her home. She’d dreaded seeing Shamus waiting for her, but the street was clear of vehicles.
As quickly as she could, she made her way to the house and slipped into her room. She’d left the curtains closed. Sinking into Paulo’s chair, she pulled around her the blanket that she used to tuck around Paulo and let his comfort surround her. She dared not light the gas mantle. She’d wait for first light to get washed and change, and could hopefully slip out without being noticed.
‘So, where is it that you have been then?’
Ella froze.
A movement, and then the sound of a match being struck, which lit Shamus’s face, showed Ella that he was standing next to the mantle that hung from the wall just inside the door. The hiss of gas told of his intention, as he held the flame to the mantle. It exploded into life and began to spread light around the rest of the room.
Shocked to her core, Ella couldn’t feel any emotion. She stared at Shamus, who seemed to have taken on gigantic proportions.
‘I’ve been waiting here for two hours, so I have.’
‘I – I didn’t see your car.’
‘I parked around the corner, so that you wouldn’t. And then I let meself in and sat waiting. I know it is that you have been avoiding me. Well, it won’t work; nothing works in trying to get a trick over Shamus McMahon.’
Shamus walked towards her as he spoke, his voice menacing, his anger reddening his face. When he reached her chair, he leaned over her, his face close to hers. His breath had a tinge of alcohol. ‘It is that I am for taking you back to my house tonight. I have your things packed. Get yourself up, out of this chair. The promise you made me is about to come true.’
‘No, Shamus, that’s kidnap. A criminal offence.’
‘I’m not for caring what it’s called – it’s happening. And you can be making it easy on yourself by coming willingly, or I’ll take you by force. I’m not caring, either way. But I’m not leaving without you, and that’s for sure.’
Defeated, Ella rose.
‘That’s good. Now, listen to me. It is that you will walk along the street to me car, without protest, and sure it is that no problems will befall your black friends; but one peep out of you and, I tell you, it’ll be curtains for the woman. And each one will be seen to in turn, each time you cross me, so they will.’
Ella felt too tired and afraid to protest. Accepting her fate, she walked the street without a murmur.
As always, Shamus’s house was warm and cosy. A welcoming place, even if she was forced to go there. Fitted with everything that the houses he owned lacked, it even had a bathroom with running hot water, something rarely found in this area.
A fire in the grate was soon brought back to life, as Shamus added kindling and a log to it. Ella sat on the sofa. None of the warmth of the place, or the heat that the fire gave out, could touch the coldness inside her. It was as if she’d closed herself down.
‘Are you not well, Ella?’
Ella didn’t give a reply.
‘Come on now, me little darling, it is that you will be comfortable and well looked after. You’ll have everything it is that you need, so you will. All I ask is that you are for being a good wife to me.’
‘Not to mention that I have to give my baby away.’
‘God love the spirit of you. It does me good, for sure, you’re like me mammy in that way.’
‘How is your mother?’
‘She’s not long for this world, and she worries about me. It would do her good to know that I have you by my side when she passes.’
‘Shamus, you are a mystery to me. It is as if you have two personalities: the rough and vicious you, and this soft side. I don’t know where I am with you.’
‘I would always be using me soft side with you, if only you would stand by the promise you made.’
‘I won’t ever be a wife to you, in the way you want me to be. I will do as you say, because of your threats, and what you are capable of doing to those I love if I don’t.’
‘Well, I’ll have to settle for that then.’
Despair entered Ella. She had no way of beating this man. If she escaped when he was asleep, then Rowena . . . No, she couldn’t think about it. She had to accept that her life was mapped out for her. A life as a wife to Shamus. But she would never give up. Never.
‘You’ve gone quiet. What is it that’s going around your pretty head?’
‘I only have thoughts of my baby.’
‘I’ve told you my feelings on that. But if you won’t give it away willingly, then I’ll be making the arrangements, so I will.’
‘No, please. Please, Shamus.’
‘Och, don’t be crying. I’m not to be moved on this. I couldn’t have another man’s child in me house. I want you to bear me children. Fine sons, who will follow in me footsteps and take on me business when they’re old enough. And then you and me will take off to Ireland and live out our time in peace together.’
‘You have it all mapped out, don’t you? You don’t care about me and my life.’
‘I am for telling you that you are part of me. I can never rid meself of you. And you will never get me out of your life – never.’
Leaning back, Ella closed her eyes. Her baby moved inside her at that moment. Placing her hand on her stomach, she vowed to her child that one day they would be free, and together. The enormity of what this thought meant jolted through her. And with the jolt she realized that, without knowing where her baby was, she might never get the chance of having it with her. Unless . . .
‘Shamus. There is somewhere that I can take my baby.’
Ella’s already-broken heart tore into shreds as she told Shamus about her sister. Leaving out that her sister was rich and would give her money enough to care for herself, she told him that Calek loved her, but could do nothing for her, although she could take care of her child for her.
‘But that would mean you having to travel to Poland, and I’m not for trusting you to come back, so I’m not.’
‘I would do nothing that would bring harm on Rowena.’
‘Well then, I’m for thinking it could be a good plan.’
‘They would want me to give birth to the baby there.’
‘And why is it they would make such a demand? The journey would be too much for you, so it would.’
‘Not if you paid for me to go first-class and take Rowena with me, to care for me.’
‘Ha, are you thinking that I was born with the little people?’
Thinking quickly, Ella tried to come up with something that would convince Shamus to let her go. ‘It makes sense. I go and have my child, then I come back to you and we marry. None of your cronies would even have to know that I had children before I met you.’
‘Children, is it? And what happened to others that you’ve had?’
Ella told him about Christophe, but not about her miscarried child. Though still painful to her and thought of as a lost child, she didn’t want to discuss Jim and what he’d done to her.
‘It is a powerful lot of bad luck that you’ve been having – and you giving your young life to the saving of others, too. I’m sorry for you, Ella, me darling, and sorry to add to your heartache, but I cannot find it in me to relent on the keeping of your child.’
Ella never ceased to be amazed at the many sides Shamus had. If his mind wasn’t so warped, he wouldn’t be a bad man.
‘Now, here is what will happen. But before I’m telling you, tell me how long it is that you have before your babby is born?’
‘Six to nine weeks at the most, I would say. But I’m not sure, as I haven’t had any medical care. I can only count forward from . . . well, from when I am sure it happened.’
Shamus was quiet once more. His face showed many emotions. When he spoke, the main one came to the fore.
‘I want you never to speak of lying with that husband of yours, do you hear me?’
Exhausted, afraid and fearful for her child, Ella nodded.
‘You will be taking yourself to Poland, but I will choose the one to go with you.’
‘No! I won’t go as a prisoner. You have to trust me. If I can’t take Rowena, then I will go alone. I have told you I won’t do anything that will harm my friend. I will come back.’
Ella was desperate not to have Shamus find out that her sister was very wealthy. If she could get the money her sister promised, she might stand a chance of getting herself and Rowena, and her family, out of Shamus’s clutches. And then she could reclaim her child. It was the only way out of her dilemma that she could see.
‘You will marry me first, so you will. I’ll fix up one of those special licences tomorrow, and we’ll marry in three days. Now, it is hungry that I am. I’ve a stew on the stove in the kitchen, which me daily helper left ready. Though now you are here, I will not be needing her. Are you up to doing your first duty as me proposed wife and getting me supper on the table?’
Ella rose. Every limb, muscle and sinew of her screamed against doing so, but she did it with dignity and went towards the kitchen. She knew where it was and its layout, as she had made tea for Shamus’s mother when visiting her to dress her ulcer.
If the circumstances had been different, Ella would be pleased to live in a house such as this. The furniture wasn’t in the fashionable Edwardian style, but it was of good quality. The kitchen was fitted out well, with a dresser displaying the best china, and cupboards containing the everyday chinaware. The light oak dresser had roses carved into a lip adjoining each shelf, and ornate doors. The floor of the kitchen was quarry-tiled, and the tiles were red-leaded until they shone. The deep pot-sink had a pretty curtain around it that matched the one at the window. Bright yellow with a daisy pattern, the curtains lifted the room. The large table in the centre was covered in a yellow oilcloth and added to the feel of the airy brightness of the kitchen. To the side of the gas stove there was a wood-burning stove, which Ella knew was constantly alight and was the source of the hot water, as a boiler was housed behind it.
Lighting the gas, Ella moved the stew over the flame. As she stood stirring the liquid, it was not only her body that screamed with pain, but her heart did, too. How did I come to this? How is it fair that so much should be put on my shoulders? Sighing, she cut some large chunks off the loaf of bread that she’d found on the cold slab of the pantry, and called out to Shamus that supper was ready. I can do this. For the sake of my child, and for the safety of Rowena and her family, I can and I will. She didn’t let in the thought that she might never get out of Shamus’s clutches. That was too unbearable.