For a Mother's Sins (11 page)

‘All my life, I’ve looked after my lads. I’ve gone without, making sure they were fed and clothed. I’ve not slept nights when they were ill, I’ve wiped their bums
and dried their tears . . . And after all that, they just up and leave.’ Rose sank into the pine rocking chair, clutching the tea towel to her and staring fixedly at the stove, as if she were
looking back into the past, back to a time when her lads were young and the world was less complicated. ‘It’s a hard job, being a mother. Mark my words, Lizzie – if you have any
children, they’ll break your heart. They always do.’

Lizzie stood watching her for a minute, then began clearing the table. There seemed nothing else she could do, and she didn’t feel comfortable giving the old woman a hug.

‘I know now how your mother must have felt when your brother died. At least my lad is only down the road. I’m so sorry, so very sorry. I feel terrible about what happened. Oh, that
poor little mite, I can’t stop thinking about him.’ Rose held the cloth to her eyes and sobbed.

Lizzie went over and laid her arm on Rose’s shoulder. She seemed to have aged overnight; her lads were her world, the thought of being parted from them was devastating to her. ‘You
mustn’t upset yourself. Tommy was sickly. Mam said so.’ Lizzie swiped away the tear that was running down the side of her nose and tried to dispel the memory of Tommy’s lifeless
little arm falling out of his blanket as her mother clasped him to her. Crying only made matters worse; you had to get on with life. ‘Come on,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ll put
the kettle on and make us a pot of tea while I wash up.’

‘You’re a good lass,’ said Rose, wiping her nose. ‘I bet your mother’s missing you. You must be her only comfort now her boy is gone.’

While Rose sat rocking in her chair to the rhythm of the big old clock, Lizzie got to work washing the pots and breakfast things. And as she worked she couldn’t help wondering why Rose
kept harking on about baby Tommy. She couldn’t see that his dying had anything in common with Mike leaving home, yet to hear Mrs Pratt talk you’d have thought she was responsible for
both.

‘Just put it back in that corner. And you can leave the bedding, I’ll make it up after you’ve gone.’ Molly stood with her hands on her hips, giving
instructions on where to place the bed frame that seemed to have been constantly shunted between huts over the last few days.

‘Ma said it may be of use to you, now our Mike’s left home. In case Lizzie ever wants to stop over, now you’re getting back on your feet.’ John shifted the bed close to
the wall with the force of his leg. ‘I hear you’re working at the hospital. How are you doing there?’ He stood straight and wiped his brow with his cap before sitting at the
dining table.

Molly sat down in the chair opposite him. ‘I’m absolutely off my legs. I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard in my life, but in a strange way I like it.’

‘And how do you get on with Starchy Drawers? I bet she has a caustic tongue in her.’ John grinned wickedly.

‘You can’t possibly mean Nurse Gladys Thompson,’ grinned Molly sarcastically. ‘Oh, she’s got a lovely manner about her, that one. We get along very well when
she’s not watching my every move, frightened that I’m after stealing her precious doctor’s affections. How do you know her? She doesn’t seem the sort who’d dirty her
shoes visiting Batty Green.’

‘All us lads know her. We’ve a bet on at the works – the lad who gets her to walk out with him will pick up a tidy sum. But nobody’s been brave enough yet to ask her.
She’s a bit of a tartar, isn’t she. I know she’s always been after Doctor Thistlethwaite, but I can’t believe he’d give her a second glance. He’s too busy with
his plants to even notice the stupid woman.’ John stretched his legs out and made himself more comfortable.

‘Do you fancy a brew or will your mother be wanting you back home?’ Molly rose and placed the kettle on to the stovetop, trying not to stare at the good-looking young man who had
been on her mind constantly of late.

‘Ah, Ma can wait. She’s looks like she’s chewed a wasp at the moment, and she’s not talking to my dad, so it isn’t right pleasant at home at present. Between you
and me, I’m bloody fed up of sitting around looking at their two long faces and our odd Bob. Your Lizzie’s the only one with a smile.’

‘What’s up? That doesn’t sound like your mam. It isn’t our Lizzie getting under her feet, is it?’ said Molly, secretly annoyed to hear that her daughter smiled at
John, and that he’d noticed. ‘Because if it is, she can move back here. I’m settled at the hospital and she’s old enough to look after herself while I’m at work. She
could still go across to help your mam with anything that needed doing.’

‘No, it isn’t Lizzie, it’s our daft Mike. He’s gone and proposed to Jenny Burton. They’re getting married a week on Sunday, but no one’s dared tell Mam that.
She’s in enough of a huff at him as it is, just for leaving home.’

‘He’s getting married and your mam and dad don’t know! That’ll break their hearts.’ Molly turned from the stove and looked at him, appalled. ‘They’ll
have to be told, John. It isn’t right.’ She placed a steaming cup of tea under his nose.

‘Aye, but they’re going to be even more upset when they find out they’re going to be grandparents. Our Mike’s gone and got Jenny in the family way. That’s why
everything’s happened so fast – the poor lad’s over a barrel. Either he marries Jenny and upsets our lot. Or he drags his heels and gets the living daylights kicked out of him by
her brothers. Either way, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.’ John took a long slurp of tea.

‘Well, at least he’s thinking of the baby. All the same, he should tell your parents. I’m sure they’d understand. In fact, I bet your mother can’t wait to be a
grandmother. Children always bring families together.’ Molly couldn’t help blushing as she caught John’s blue eyes studying her.

‘You don’t know them like I do. My mam’ll be preaching about how he’ll burn in hell for the pleasures of the flesh. Poor bugger, he’s been caught out good and
proper.’ John set down his cup and gazed around the hut, taking in the sparseness of the furnishings and lack of decoration. ‘Do you want me to put a pot rail up for you? Then you can
hang all your cups up, like at Ma’s.’

‘That’d be grand, if you’ve got the time. I’ve always wanted a Welsh dresser but I’ve never been able to afford one. A pot rail would be the next best thing,’
said Molly.

‘Right, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll try to come over one night next week,’ said John, suddenly conscious that this was a woman his mother had called wanton, not to
mention a few other things. He got to his feet, eager to be away. ‘You’ll not say anything about our Mike, will you? Best let him get married in peace. They’ll all come round soon
enough once they know there’s a baby involved.’

‘I’ll not say a word.’ Molly opened the door for him. ‘And thanks for the offer of a shelf, that’ll be most useful.’

John tugged his cap and set off for home, a spring in his step.

Molly closed the door behind him and picked up the two dirty cups. It had been good to have a bit of male company. Already she was looking forward to his return. As she did the washing up she
found herself humming, stopping in her tracks at the realization. Her heart hadn’t felt this light in a long time.

‘Lizzie, be a love and pop outside for a minute, I want a word with our John.’

Lizzie, who’d been sitting at the kitchen table, polishing the brass pans, wiped her hands and obediently made her way out. Curious as to why Rose suddenly wanted her out of the way,
having made her way outside she immediately sat down beneath the open window to eavesdrop on the conversation.

‘Now, our John, what’s going on? It should have taken you five minutes to deliver that bed, not an hour. I don’t want you getting too familiar with that Mason woman. You know
she’s not our sort. I’ve enough on, what with watching our Mike. I don’t need to be wondering what you’re getting up to as well.’

‘Mother, she made me a cup of tea and we exchanged pleasantries, that’s all. For the love of God, get off my back. You’ve more to bother about than me.’ John was fuming.
He’d had enough of being tied to his mother’s apron strings, never being allowed out of her sight except to earn money or do her chores. Truth be told, he was also feeling guilty about
his attraction to Molly Mason.

‘Aye, I’ve your stupid brother to bother about. And I don’t want to see you going down the same road.’

‘It’ll be a cold day in hell before I get married and become a father,’ he lashed out.

‘What do you mean get married – who’s getting married? Is our Mike getting married? Is she in the family way?’ Rose’s voice was becoming louder. ‘John, tell
me – is that what’s going on?’

‘Aye,’ mumbled John, cursing himself for letting his brother’s secret out. ‘He’s getting married on Sunday. And she’s expecting. That’s why he left
– he’d no option.’

Rose let out a wail. Her lad was getting married and she knew nowt about it. And she was to be a grandmother! A baby, a wedding – why hadn’t the vicar told her about the banns being
read. Surely even in this heathen hole they had to be read three Sundays in a row? She’d have to have words with that boy of hers, but in the meantime there was a wedding to prepare for. The
baby made all the difference. At least her lad was doing the decent thing, but he should have told her. A wave of mixed emotions washed over her and a faint smile came on her lips at the thought of
a new life coming into the world.

‘Go and get the horse and trap, John – and be quick about it. I want you to take me to Gearstones.’

Angrier with himself than ever, John slapped his flat cap across his knee and cursed under his breath. His mother had hurried across the room and was now on her knees, rummaging under her bed
for something. ‘You’ll not cause any bother, will you, Ma?’ John pleaded. ‘Promise me you won’t.’

‘What do you think I am!’ said Rose, indignant. ‘I didn’t know I was going to be a grandmother. This changes everything, no matter who or what she is.’ She got up
from her knees, the family money box in her hands. ‘He’ll need his cut if he’s going to give that bairn the start-off it should have in life. I’ll not let the little mite
end up like poor Tommy Mason.’ Opening the box, she removed the linen bag with Mike’s name written on it and put it in her pocket. ‘He can count us in for this wedding and all.
I’m not missing one of my lads getting married. Tell Lizzie to come back in and finish these pans and to put us a bit of supper on for when we come back. Go on, get a move on, don’t
stand gawping like a big lump.’

John closed the door behind him, still shaking his head at the turn of events. He was dreading his mother entering Gearstones. Even hardened navvies gave the place a wide
berth; it was an unsavoury neighbourhood and definitely not the kind of place his mother was used to. He only hoped that on their arrival they would find Mike and his bride-to-be in the big house
where her family lived and not the doss-house where they made their money. He wouldn’t put it past Mike to make out that was where they were going to live, purely to have his revenge. He knew
that his mother would keep well away from that den of drunken lechery.

Spotting Lizzie sitting under the window, he told her: ‘Ma says you can go in now.’ And then, realizing that she was in a position to have heard everything that had been said, he
added, ‘Don’t take any notice of Mam. Your mother’s a grand woman.’

Lizzie kept her face turned away so he wouldn’t see her tears. It had hurt to hear Rose declare that her mother was not one of their sort. She’d barely heard a word that followed,
her mind was in such turmoil. If Lizzie’s mother wasn’t their sort, what did that make her? No matter how long she stopped with the Pratts, she’d never be one of them. Come to
think of it, she really didn’t want to be one of them. As soon as she could, she was going home. She could still help out doing chores for Ma Pratt, but she’d move back in with her
mother. After all, Molly was back to normal and probably missing her company.

‘Never in all my days have I seen such a place! Not one person was sober, the language was fearful, and as for her father . . . Well! He’s the roughest man
I’ve ever come across. I told our Mike he’d be better off getting a navvy hut from the Midland. At least then the baby would be brought up clean.’

Rose was in a state of high dudgeon by the time she got home. As the rest of the family pulled pillows over their heads in an effort to shut out her ranting, Jim lay in the bed beside her
waiting for a chance to get a word in.

‘You should have seen the dust, Father! I came out itching all over. The place was lousy. I can’t bear to think of my lad living in that muck and filth. Why, if we didn’t have
Lizzie stopping with us, happen they could move in here.’

Finally seeing an opening, Jim ventured an opinion: ‘And how long do you think that’d last? Mike’s got to be his own man. He’s got responsibilities, and his
bride’ll not take kindly to you interfering, Mother.’

Rose, who’d not listened to a word he’d said, continued: ‘I’ll have a word with him tomorrow. They’ll need all the help they can get. You always do, with your first
one. And then I’ll sort it with Lizzie and her mother.’

‘Do what you want, woman,’ sighed Jim, rolling on to his side. ‘I’m off to sleep. Some of us have to work in the morning.’

Lizzie, too, turned in her bed. This would definitely be her last night in this house. Clearly she was no longer wanted here.

Rose watched as Lizzie made her way to her mother’s hut. She had been so thankful when the girl had suddenly announced in the middle of breakfast that she wanted to go
home, it was all she could do not to let out a great sigh of relief. It wasn’t that Lizzie wasn’t wanted – her help would be needed more than ever when the baby was born, so that
shilling a month would turn out to be a good investment – but they simply didn’t have room for her.

The hut was empty when Lizzie arrived. She knew that Molly left early to go to her job in the hospital, and she’d planned to prepare a nice surprise for her to come home to. Rose had
agreed to give her the day off so she could clean her mother’s place from top to bottom, but the place was spotless. At a loss, Lizzie sat next to the stove and gazed around the room,
wondering what to do. Finally she came to the conclusion that she might as well make the most of her day off and have a wander down the dale. What with all the upset the other day, she never had
made it down to Nether Hall to sit on the bridge and take in the view of the valley.