THE DOCTOR WAS out attending an emergency. ‘But this is an emergency,’ Jim told the housekeeper. ‘My sister’s babby is coming.’
She nodded her head. ‘Then it’ll keep on coming whether ’doctor’s there or not,’ she said calmly. ‘There’s no stopping ’em once they’ve started. I’ll tell him,’ she assured him, ‘just as soon as he gets in.’
There’s no sense in me rushing back then, he thought, and headed for the nearest hostelry in the marketplace. There’s nowt I can do. Though I expect it’s similar to delivering a calf or a lamb, and I’ve done plenty of them. He ordered a glass of ale from the landlord. I wonder what she’ll get and if da will let her stop? He realized that although his father had been persuaded that Delia should stay until her confinement, he hadn’t said that she could stay after the child was born.
There’d be no harm in it, he pondered. Folks will talk, but not for long, and it’d be nice to have a little nipper around, ’specially if it’s a lad and I could teach him about farming.
He turned to look around the room. It was an old hostelry, dark and smoky and lit by firelight and candles held in brackets on the walls. As he peered to see who else was in the room he saw a man leaning against the hearth wall watching him. It was John Byrne.
Jim turned away, but Byrne came across to him. ‘Don’t often see you out here at night,’ he said.
‘No, there’s allus work to be done until late,’ Jim replied briefly. ‘Not much time for socializing when you’re a farmer.’
‘You could give it up.’ Byrne dropped his voice. ‘There are other ways of making money.’
‘Illegal ways!’ Jim muttered. ‘No thanks, I like to sleep with an easy conscience.’
Cynicism crossed Byrne’s face. ‘And can you do that? There are few men who can say that they do.’
‘I’ve made a few mistakes,’ Jim admitted tersely. ‘No need to add to ’em.’
Byrne gave a small shrug. ‘Your father is willing to take another chance.’
‘He’s not willing. You’ve threatened him that you’ll spread rumours about us.’ Jim’s voice was low and bitter. ‘Rumours about Carlos. Insinuations that he was murdered!’
Byrne looked astonished, then he laughed. ‘Is that what he said? That we’d spread rumours about somebody who went missing nearly twenty years ago?’ He laughed again. ‘The old devil!’
Jim frowned. ‘Then what did you say? You put ’wind up him over summat.’
‘Well, it wasn’t that! Although . . .’ he added slowly and gazed at Jim intently. ‘It’s worth considering as a possibility. Why? I wonder—’ He tapped his mouth with his fingers. ‘Why would he say such a thing to you if it wasn’t true?’
Jim shuffled his feet. He didn’t like the way the conversation was going. Byrne was too tricky for him, always had been. ‘There’s no reason why he should say it,’ he hedged.
‘Except that he didn’t want you to know the real reason.’ Byrne gave a sly smile. ‘Your precious da! So holier-than-thou! He wouldn’t want his sons and daughters to find out why he’d agreed to go along with us in our little schemes.’
Jim stared at him. ‘And we don’t want to know,’ he vowed. ‘There’s no reason to sully ’waters when they seem clear enough.’
‘Even though there’s foul sediment lying beneath?’ Byrne sneered.
‘Even then!’ Jim put his glass down on the counter and turned towards the door, but was almost knocked over by a gang of local youths coming in.
‘There’s one of ’em,’ one in the crowd shouted. ‘Here! Irish!’
Byrne turned lazily towards them. ‘Would you be speaking to me?’
‘Surr and that I would!’ another mimicked, then changed his tone to one of menace. ‘Some of you Irish have been making up to our lasses. And we’ll not have it!’
Byrne looked him up and down. ‘Maybe you’ll not, but the lasses are willing enough to have it. I speak from experience, I assure you of that.’
The fellow lunged towards him but was restrained by several hands. ‘Leave it, Greg,’ someone else said. ‘That’s one of Byrne brothers. They’re nowt but trouble.’
The man pointed a finger. ‘Just let me catch you messing with any of our women and you’ll be sorry.’ He looked around the room for moral support and caught sight of Jim. ‘I’m surprised to see you in such company, Jim Drew,’ he said. ‘Thought you’d have had more sense!’
‘I’m not in anybody’s company but my own,’ Jim maintained. ‘I came in for a quiet drink of ale. Nothing more. Now if you’ll let me pass I’ll be on my way home.’
As he unloosed the horse’s reins from the ring on the outside wall, he heard shouts and the sound of breaking glass coming from within the inn. He gave a grimace. He hoped it was John Byrne getting the worst of a fight but in spite of the numbers against him, he didn’t think that it would be.
His thoughts were confirmed a few minutes later as Byrne sauntered out with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. ‘By the way, Jim,’ he called. ‘How is your sister? Delia, isn’t it? Give her my regards and say I hope all goes well with her.’
Jim glared down at him from the saddle. ‘Don’t come bothering her,’ he warned. ‘She’s got enough trouble without you mekking more.’
‘I wouldn’t make trouble,’ he replied easily. ‘I’m not so careless. At least – not usually!’
How does he know Delia? Jim deliberated as he rode across the bridge and on to Sunk Island. When has he met her? She hardly ever goes out. He gave a deep sigh. There’s no let-up, allus summat to worry about. As he rode along the embankment, he looked about him as he always did. The sky was light although it was late, and his sight was keen. He glanced towards one of the old drainage channels and saw that the water was high, almost to the top of the bank. He looked along it and saw, further down, that part of the bank had crumbled, so blocking the water from running along it.
That one’s allus been a problem. He stood looking down the channel. We’ll have to dig it out or we’ll have trouble there at high tide.
He continued on home, to be met at the gate by Matthew. ‘Did you see ’doctor? Is he coming?’ Matthew looked anxious. ‘She’s having a terrible time. I can’t bear to stay in the house.’
‘He was out,’ Jim confessed. ‘His housekeeper said she’d tell him as soon as he got back. I doubt he’ll come tonight, it’s nearly eleven.’
‘So where’ve you been? And where’s Da? I’ve not seen him for hours.’
‘I had a tankard of ale in Patrington, and Da’s gone off somewhere.’
‘Where?’ Matthew persisted.
‘I don’t know! He said he’d be back in ’morning.’
‘In ’morning!’ Matthew was incredulous. ‘And he didn’t say where he was going? Do you think he’s gone to stay at our Maggie’s? Mrs Jennings said he was grumbling about ’row Delia was making.’
‘I said, I don’t know.’ Jim was sharp. ‘I’m not his keeper!’
‘No, but he’s yours, isn’t he?’ Matthew answered back. Both were short-tempered and irritable.
‘I don’t know what you’re on about.’
‘I think you do. You can’t step out of place but he’s on to you. You shouldn’t stand for it.’ Matthew faced his brother. It was the nearest they had ever come to a quarrel. ‘You’re just like Henry. He never defied him, even though he argued with him.’
Jim took a deep breath. ‘I don’t want to fight wi’ you, Matthew, but there’s a reason for most things. Just keep out of it wi’ Da and me. We’ll sort things out sooner or later.’
He turned away, then as if in afterthought turned back and said, ‘Have you seen that Irishman hanging around here? Younger one wi’ red hair. John Byrne?’
Matthew pursed his lips. ‘I saw him walking along one of ’dykes not long ago.’
‘Let me know if you see him again, and don’t let him near Delia – or Rosa.’
Rosa sat down on a kitchen chair, ‘I wish ’doctor would come. Is it always so bad, Gran?’ She was exhausted after walking up and down with a weeping Delia, who had at last dropped off to sleep on her bed.
‘He’ll not come tonight. Not now. He won’t risk riding over here in ’dark.’ Her grandmother poured them both a cup of tea. They’d been taking it in turns to be with Delia. ‘She’s frightened. That’s why she’s so tense and in pain. If she would relax she wouldn’t feel it so much.’
‘Maggie says she’s got another month to go yet. I hope Delia doesn’t tell her how bad it is.’
‘It might not be so bad for her. She’s looking forward to having her babby, she knows there’s joy to come at ’end of her pain. Young woman upstairs hasn’t got that joy.’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling as they heard again Delia’s plaintive voice calling for someone to come.
‘But she will have when it’s born, won’t she?’
Mrs Jennings got up from her chair and turned towards the stairs. ‘Mebbe.’ There was doubt in her voice. ‘If all goes well.’
The doctor came early the next morning, arriving shortly before James Drew. He greeted him after attending Delia, and accepted the offer of a cup of tea from Rosa. ‘Your daughter is in considerable pain, Mr Drew, and I fear for the child. It’s lying very awkwardly and—’
‘Don’t tell me for I don’t want to know,’ Drew replied brusquely. ‘I want nowt to do with her or ’bastard she’s carrying.’ His lips tightened. ‘If she’s suffering then it’s punishment for her sins. We’ll all have to suffer on ’Day of Judgement.’ His expression became blank and he stared into space. The doctor looked at him keenly as he continued, ‘And some folks will go through fires of hell even afore then.’
‘Come, come, Mr Drew.’ The doctor drank his tea. ‘I didn’t see you as a zealot!’
Then you don’t know him, Rosa thought as she listened to their conversation through the open kitchen door. It doesn’t bode well for Delia. She felt sorry for her. She was going through physical and mental pain as she walked the floor, crying out querulously what was to become of her.
The doctor finished his tea and, giving Drew a cursory nod, went outside, signalling Rosa to follow him. ‘I’ll come back tonight,’ he said. ‘I’ve left a potion with Mrs Jennings to give to Delia which will calm her, but tell Mrs Jennings, out of Delia’s hearing, that the child may not survive.’
Rosa gazed at him. He’s coming back tonight! Does that mean that Delia has to suffer all the rest of the day?
‘The child is very still,’ the doctor continued. ‘I can’t find any sign of life. I may be wrong, we can’t always tell, but it is very still.’
So what will happen then? Rosa sat down on a mounting block in the yard and pondered. Will Delia stay here if she loses her child? Will she be able to live under her father’s uncharitable gaze? And if she does, can I?
‘What is it, Rosa? What’s up?’ Matthew came out of the fold yard leading two waggon horses.
‘Doctor says that Delia’s baby is very still.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘He’s bothered about it.’ She looked up at him. ‘What’s going to happen to her, Matthew? Will your da let her stay? Will she want to?’
He looked across the yard to where Harry was coming in through the open gate, and signalled to him to take the horses. ‘Hitch them to ’waggon, Harry,’ he said. ‘We’ll shift some muck into ’top field. I’ll be with you in a minute.’
He turned to Rosa. ‘I don’t know what will happen.’ He looked down at his feet and scuffed the dust, making long lines with the side of his boots and then crossing them to make squares. ‘How would I know? Da never tells us anything, Jim never tells me anything; so how would I know about Delia? She isn’t the young girl I knew as my sister.’ He looked up at her and she saw misery on his face. ‘I don’t know anything about anybody, not even you.’
She gave a half laugh. ‘Of course you know about me! You know that you do.’
‘No. No, I don’t.’ He took a step towards her. ‘I’m always here and yet you never see me. I’m just part of the landscape, a wall, a hedge, a chair, and if I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t even notice that I’d gone.’
She took in a short sharp breath. Surely he understood? ‘That isn’t true and you said that you didn’t know me,’ she said, ‘and yet you are talking about you.’
Mrs Jennings knocked from an upstairs window and called her urgently.
Matthew turned away. ‘It comes to ’same thing,’ he muttered.
‘Be quick!’ Mrs Jennings called again. ‘I need you, Rosa. She’s going off her head!’
Delia did seem to have a madness on her and she struggled against Mrs Jennings and Rosa as they tried to give her the tincture which the doctor had left for her. She spat it out at Rosa and clutched Mrs Jennings’s arm in an iron grip as she tried to administer more.
‘I don’t want this babby,’ she screamed. ‘I never wanted it. How will I live with a bairn to bring up? What’ll I do for money?’
‘Whether you want it or not, miss, makes no odds.’ Mrs Jennings forced the spoon into Delia’s clenched lips. ‘It’ll not go away.’
‘It’s your fault,’ Delia bellowed at Rosa. ‘If you hadn’t come here, I needn’t have gone to work in Hornsea and this wouldn’t have happened. I’d have stayed with my da and Jim and Matthew.’
‘That’s enough, that’s enough!’ Mrs Jennings pushed her onto the bed. ‘Tek no notice,’ she murmured to Rosa. ‘It’s pain that’s addled her brain. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.’
Delia’s eyes started to close and her fingers loosened their grip on Mrs Jennings. ‘By!’ she said, rubbing her bruised arm. ‘He’s given her a strong dose of summat, but she should settle for an hour or two. Come on.’ She rose from the side of the bed. ‘Morning’s getting on. We’ve dinner to see to or else he’ll have summat to say.’
Rosa looked down at Delia who, even though drugged, tossed her head and murmured incoherently.
‘Why does she hate me so, Gran? None of the others resented me, not Maggie or Flo or any of them.’
‘Jealous,’ her grandmother said, ‘though why she should be, I don’t know. You were never treated any different, were you?’
‘No.’ Rosa continued to stare down at Delia. ‘Why should she be jealous? There was no favouritism. I got ’strap more often than Delia ever did.’
She sighed and followed her grandmother out of the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen.
‘But whatever she says doesn’t matter to you, does it, Rosa?’ Her grandmother looked at her keenly.
‘No,’ she said softly. ‘I hear her, but it doesn’t seem to matter. I don’t know why.’
‘I do.’ The old lady gently patted Rosa’s arm. ‘I’ve onny just realized. You’ve grown a shell around you so nothing touches you. You don’t cry. I’ve never seen or heard you cry since you were a bairn.’
Rosa didn’t answer but poured potatoes from a bucket into the sink and started to scrub them. That’s so that nothing can hurt me, she thought. I won’t let it.
‘But then it’s just as well.’ Her grandmother was still talking. ‘Some folks are allus wailing and moaning about summat and it doesn’t do a bit of good. You’ve just got to get on wi’ life.’
They heard a thump from upstairs and Mrs Jennings sighed. ‘She’ll have to wait. I’ll put ’taties on to boil when you’ve finished ’em. ’Meat’s almost ready.’
A leg of pork was sizzling on a spit over the fire and Mrs Jennings stirred a pan of apples and added a scraping of nutmeg. ‘There, sauce is ready. He likes it cold, doesn’t he?’
Rosa nodded. How quickly her grandmother had picked up Mr Drew’s idiosyncrasies. Hot rabbit pie with carrots. Cold apple sauce with pork. She occasionally put in some of her own favourites and Mr Drew never commented, but she was careful to prepare other recipes in the same manner as Mrs Drew had always done them.
‘I’ll go up, Gran.’ Rosa put the potatoes into a heavy pan as her grandmother lowered the pork over the flame to crisp it. ‘And Mr Drew’ll have to be content with cabbage today.’
‘Aye, go on then. I think I can hear her moaning. Mebbe poor lass has started up wi’ pains again.’
Rosa ran upstairs to Delia’s room and quietly opened the door. Delia was lying half on, half off the bed and Rosa gasped. ‘Gran! Gran! Come quickly,’ she shouted. ‘Babby’s coming. It’s coming now!’