Spencer arrived home late and he and Violet said little as they ate their meal. Sitting before the fire later, she asked, ‘What is it, Spencer? Is there trouble at the factory?’
Shaking his head, he said, ‘No, sweetheart…’
Enjoying the endearment she waited.
‘It’s just…’ Trying to find the words, he thought a moment before he went on, ‘Dad came to see me today and said he’d asked your mother to go out with him.’ Seeing the surprise on his wife’s face, he continued, ‘She refused him and in his tenacious way he questioned me as to why that was… in the end I said it was all to do with John Sligo.’
‘Oh Spencer!’ Violet gasped, her hands covering her mouth as she felt the blood drain from her face.
Rushing to her, he grasped her hands, saying, ‘Violet… I didn’t tell him I swear! I said if Kath wanted him to know, she would tell him herself.’
Violet released her held breath and began to relax a little, knowing her mother would keep her secret, taking it with her to the grave.
Spencer said, ‘My concern is that he might get it out of Joyce Clews; after all she did tell me after I was so relentless in my questioning.’
Again fear gripped Violet and she felt faint as she said, ‘Oh my God, Spencer! I must go over to mother’s house and warn them! I must go now!’
Rushing from the room, Spencer sent for the carriage as Violet snatched up her shawl.
The carriage was brought round by the stable boy and they set off at a pace.
Stepping into her mother’s kitchen with Spencer behind her, Violet saw her sitting by the fire, Joyce taking the seat at the other side of the fireplace.
‘Well now you two, this is a nice surprise,’ Kath said as they sat at the table.
Joyce got the tea on and joined them. Kath brought out the cake and said, ‘How’s business Spencer?’
‘Mum,’ Violet said before he could answer, ‘Joshua’s been fishing again!’
‘Oh bloody hell!’ Kath retorted as she banged the knife down on a plate. ‘What now? Sorry Spencer, but your father is getting to be a damned nuisance!’
Spencer, looking a little dejected, related the conversation with his father as they all listened carefully. ‘My worry,’ Spencer finished, ‘is he’ll try to get more information out of you, Joyce.’
Joyce shook her head, dropping her eyes to her teacup.
‘Right,’ Kath began, ‘we all know what John Sligo did to Violet…’ Casting a glance at her daughter she gave a grim smile, ‘And we all know what happened to him.’
‘He drowned in the canal while he was drunk, I believe,’ Spencer added.
‘He did,’ Kath said. ‘However, his disgusting behaviour with my daughter has been held in secret these last years, and it must remain so!’
Violet looked at Joyce and saw the fear in her eyes.
‘So,’ Kath went on, ‘if Joshua starts his… I was wondering with you, Joyce, you deny all knowledge of anything and everything. If he asks you about me, you tell him to ask me; if he asks about Violet, you tell him to ask me also; you know nothing about anything… understand?’
Joyce nodded, ‘Ar Kath, I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’.’
‘Good. Now, let’s have some more tea.’
*
Violet fretted for days about Joshua’s probing, knowing how tenacious he could be. She knew for certain he would question Joyce about her mother and herself. At least Spencer had proved he would not divulge her terrible secret, even to his own father. For that she was very grateful.
Sitting together in the parlour, Spencer yawned then said, ‘I’m heading for bed, sweetheart.’
Violet replied as she stood, ‘Me too.’ Holding hands, they walked upstairs together and he kissed her gently at her bedroom door. As every night since their marriage, he turned towards his own room, whispering, ‘Goodnight, my love.’
‘Spencer…’ she called after him quietly, ‘won’t you stay with me tonight?’ Her voice quivered and she blushed. She was very nervous at the prospect but it was tinged with excitement.
Rushing to her, he held her close. ‘Oh my love,’ he said, ‘are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?’
Nodding, she led him into her bedroom and closed the door.
Spencer was the perfect gentleman, turning his back while she undressed. No man had ever seen her naked, not even John Sligo. Climbing beneath the bedclothes, Violet watched as her husband undressed, shyly admiring his body as he stood before her. Coming to the bed, he asked again, ‘Violet, are you sure this is what you want?’ At her nod, he climbed in beside her.
His arm around her shoulder, her head on his chest, they lay together for a long time before Spencer moved to kiss her softly. With curtains drawn back and only the moon to light them, he whispered, ‘I will be gentle, I promise, and if at any time you wish me to stop, just tell me and I will stop.’
Putting her lips to his told him of Violet’s acceptance of both his words and his actions.
*
Another meeting of the ‘Wives’ took place the following Sunday.
As they sat again around Kath’s kitchen table, tea and cake served, she related to the others about Joshua asking questions.
Joyce took up, ‘Ar, he had me in the office the other day and he started. What did I know about Kath? I said he should ask Kath. What did I know about Violet? I said he should again ask Kath. Well…’ Drawing out the word as everyone listened eagerly, enjoying the drama, Joyce went on, ‘He was quite amused and he said he’d heard I liked gossip. Me! Liked gossip!’
Everyone howled at Joyce’s expression of incredulity.
‘So, anyway,’ she went on after the laughter died down, ‘I said to him, “Look here, Mr Gittins, Kath helped me out of a tight spot a while back and she took me in off the street. As for Violet, she is my friend and that’s all I know.” So in a huff he tells me to get back to work, and that was the end of that!’
Slapping her hands on the table, she leaned back in her chair denoting the end of her contribution to the meeting. Everyone congratulated her on her dealings with Violet’s father-in-law.
Mary turned to Violet and asked, ‘He’s not likely to make life difficult for you, wench, is he?’
Shaking her head, Violet said, ‘Oh no, Spencer would have something to say if he did.’
All eyes turned to her and she felt the rush of blood to her face as a crimson blush caused her to lower her eyes.
‘Well now…’ Mary began, obviously detecting the change in the girl’s demeanour.
‘Mary!’ Martha warned, giving her a frown. ‘That’s none of your business!’
Smiling her thanks to Martha, it dawned on Violet just how wily these women were.
*
Primrose Berry had already begun her business of selling pies and cakes on a stall in the marketplace and had made a small contribution to the money Kath was holding, when the purpose for it was explained to her. She considered it wise to have money in abeyance should anything happen to any of the Wives. She promised more as business picked up. Kath had also put in some of her own money and the Wednesbury Wives fund was safely in Lloyds Banking Co. in Lower High Street in an account under Kath’s name.
Violet walked to Primrose’s stall on Monday morning to buy a pie big enough for Spencer and herself and she was pleased to see a queue had formed despite the nasty weather.
Suddenly the whole market went quiet as they watched a man dressed in ragged clothing walk past carrying a tiny coffin, the rest of the family walking slowly behind supporting a sobbing woman. Women crossed themselves and men held their caps at their chests as the cortege walked slowly through the market and up Church Street to St. Bartholomew’s.
Eventually the mutterings of the market struck up again, and turning to Primrose, Violet said, ‘No one should have to bury their own child, it’s against the laws of nature.’
‘Sickness took the child, I believe. That’s the Carter family. Jean, the mother, gave birth a few weeks ago. They’ve got six kids – well, five now the baby’s died. Joe Carter is out of work; they had no money for the doctor.’
Violet’s hand flew to her mouth in horror. No money for the doctor! Paying for her pie, Violet hurried back to tell her mother the sad tale of the Carter family.
‘It was so sad, Mum,’ she said as she held a cup of hot tea in both hands. ‘You should have seen it – Jean Carter was being held up by her other children. She could barely walk by herself. They were all dressed in rags. Joe Carter cried, Mum! In full view of the town… he cried as he carried the tiny coffin!’
‘Don’t upset yourself, Violet. I don’t like it any more than you, but it happens, wench. There aren’t many hereabouts have the money to pay for a doctor.’
‘We have to do something, Mum!’ Violet bawled. ‘Anything!’
‘What do you suggest?’ Kath asked. She was not unfeeling on this, but she was a realist.
Looking down, Violet muttered, ‘I don’t know… yet!’
*
In bed that evening, Violet told Spencer about the small funeral cortege walking to the churchyard.
‘I don’t see what can be done about it,’ he said after a while, ‘but let me think on it a while.’
Spencer hugged his wife in their large feather bed, one they continued to share after that night she’d asked him to stay with her. Snuggling close to him, she whispered, ‘What if that had been our child Spencer?’
Squeezing her body close to his, he said, ‘Let me think on it, Violet, I feel sure something can be done. Now, sleep my sweet Violet, and leave this to me.’
She knew if she couldn’t do something for that family herself, she could at least persuade Spencer to. Speaking quietly she said, ‘Spencer… can’t you find Joe Carter some work? What about putting him to work on the old cottage by the canal? Doesn’t that belong to you? I remember you saying you’d bought it with the money left over from your inheritance. You did say it needs renovating… maybe he could do that for you. Please Spencer…’
Rolling his body towards hers, he kissed the tip of her nose and whispered back, ‘That’s a very good idea, Violet! I’ll get on to it first thing tomorrow.’