Authors: Helen Spring
'Not really,' Anna responded with a little sarcasm. 'By his own standards he offered me a good future, a 'decent life' as he put it.'
In answer to Clancy's enquiring look she continued, 'I didn't tell Will, I couldn't tell anyone... but I'll tell you Clancy.' Her voice dropped to a whisper. 'He... he offered to find me a small house in Dudley, or in the country... and to make me an allowance, so he could visit whenever he wanted.'
Clancy was on his feet. 'The bastard!' His face flushed with anger. 'I'll kill the...'
'Sit down Clancy, you have no reason to be angry with anyone except me.'
Clancy sat down, but his face remained flushed.
'It was then... when he said that... I realised how stupid I had been.' Anna hesitated, and then said, 'Wait a moment.' She went upstairs and returned with the painting Sylvie had given her. Clancy was impressed and said quietly, 'You really enjoyed it didn't you? France, I mean?'
'Yes. In spite of everything I was probably happier there than ever in my life.'
It was hard for Clancy. He said quietly, 'But you didn't let him make love to you simply because you were happy. Why Anna? Why did you... allow him...?' He sighed. ‘You would never have allowed me to get anywhere near you.’
She could not lie to him. ‘I loved him Clancy,’ she said. ‘I really loved him.’
Clancy nodded. ‘And what now?’
‘I have no idea. I am in deep trouble and Dad will probably turn me out. I have a little money but not enough to last long.’ Anna took a deep breath. ‘You haven’t shouted at me Clancy, or said all the things I’m sure you want to. You haven’t called me dirty names...’
‘Would it help?’ Clancy asked bitterly.
‘Perhaps not, but I know I deserve it, so I understand how you must feel...’
‘Do you?’ He did not tell her he had already voiced all the things she imagined and worse, had screamed them into his pillow for three nights in a row, not knowing how to ease his pain. It had not helped. At the end of it all he knew he still loved her. After he had confronted this fact, and accepted it, the plan had almost formed itself. Nothing in the account she had given had changed his mind. The plan was still valid. He cleared his throat.
‘Anna, I wanted you to tell me about it because I am going to America in a few weeks. I wanted to understand what had happened...’
‘Yes. I am sorry Clancy, sorry to have hurt you so.’
‘I have a ticket for you too, if you want to come with me.’
‘For me?’ The shock showed in her face. ‘But...’
‘We shall have to put the banns in right away, so we can be married before we go.’
‘Married? Clancy...’
‘We have both attended that Chapel for so many years, it wouldn’t be right to be married anywhere else. At least, that’s how I see it.’ He looked at her a little defensively and added, ‘You know my dearest wish has always been for us to be married and go to America together.’ His voice became soft. ‘I know you don’t love me Anna, but I love you, let’s hope enough for both of us.’ He smiled. ‘Will you have me darlin’?’
‘Oh Clancy... I feel so ashamed...’ The tears were running down her face. ‘What about... what about the baby?’
‘That’s my only condition.’ Clancy said firmly.
‘What?’ Anna held her breath.
‘The child is mine. Completely mine. You say Nicholson doesn’t know about it and he must never know, and neither must the child. If we are married before we go, people in America will think the child is mine. That is how I want it. Do you agree?’
‘Oh Clancy... of course I agree, if you’re sure...’
‘It’s taken me a few days to think it out, but I’m sure. Are you sure?’
‘Oh Clancy!’ Anna wiped her eyes. ‘You are the dearest, kindest man I ever knew... I’ll make it up to you, I swear...’
‘Then we’ll never speak of this again. And if you really mean what you say about making it up to me, it’s time you offered me a jar of tea... and a kiss to seal the bargain.’
~
Anna and Clancy were married three weeks and two days later. As it was a Saturday most of the neighbours attended the Chapel, and as Clancy had no relatives in England Will did duty as best man, looking extremely uncomfortable in a starched collar and a jacket borrowed from a workmate. Anna wore the good grey dress Florence had given her, her only concession to frivolity being a pink cabbage rose pinned to the brim of her wide brimmed hat.
Afterwards in the front parlour, where a tea was provided for the family and a few friends, George Gibson made a speech, short but to the point, saying he was glad his daughter had 'come to 'er senses and wed a good sound man, instead of runnin' around foreign parts an' all that malarky.'
'What's America then Dad?' Will spoke up. 'Ay that foreign parts?'
Following the general laughter George proceeded to explain that 'Goin' to America was different, because our Anna's wed now.'
As soon as tea was over Anna and Clancy left on the cart for Dudley, where they were to take a tram for Birmingham, their overnight stop. They would then take the morning train to Liverpool to embark that afternoon. They had with them one suitcase each, Anna having carefully placed Sylvie's picture in the middle of her clothes, so it would not be damaged. Between them they had fifty two pounds, the sum total of their savings.
Will and Mary, with Billy running alongside, came to see them off on the cart, both visibly upset. The parting was short, every one of them wanting to say so much, but unable to say it. Will grasped Clancy's hand, saying over and over, 'Yo'm a good man Clancy, I know yo'll tek care on 'er.'
He hugged Anna briefly, and with embarrassment. 'Write to us our Anna,' he said. 'Not just... weather an' that... proper letters, tell us 'ow it is, what it's really like.'
'I promise Will. You take care of them all, and yourself too.' Anna felt the tears sting her eyes. 'Thanks our Will, for everything. You were always on my side.'
A last kiss for Billy and they were on the cart. As it trundled away Will shouted, 'Do' forget us when yo' mek yer first million!'
After the excitement of the day Anna was tired by the time they arrived at the small hotel in Birmingham where they were to spend their first night together. Clancy was impressed, it was the first time he had ever stayed in an hotel, and he delighted in showing Anna the small rug on the floor by the bed, the lamp with the Chinese style shade, and the thick pink eiderdown on the double bed.
Anna did her best to respond enthusiastically, but she could not help but compare the second rate hotel with places she had seen in Paris with Robert, with the simple but classic rooms at La Maison Blanche, with High Cedars.
And when Clancy took her tenderly into his arms that night she responded happily and eagerly, knowing how much she owed him, recognising his worth and integrity, aware she could never repay him for his kindness and generosity. But long after Clancy was asleep she lay awake, trying to make sense of it all. Most of all, to her own dismay, she longed for Robert, with a deep yearning which she knew she must always keep concealed.
The longing never left her. It remained a deep unsatisfied need which accompanied her night and day, on the long and uncomfortable sea crossing, when she was sick to the point of exhaustion, and it was to remain with her for years to come.
PART THREE
AMERICA
Anna strained forward with difficulty, her scrubbing brush would hardly reach into the dark corner beneath the heavy sideboard, groaning under its load of plates and dishes. Satisfied at last, she leaned back on her heels, relieved that the condition of the floor was slowly improving. When she had started work two months earlier in the dimly lit bar in downtown New York, the tiles had been so heavily grimed her scrubbing brush had hardly made an impression. Gradually, after much hard work, the bar was approaching conformity with the recently imposed hygiene standards, and as she surveyed her work Anna felt a bizarre sense of grim satisfaction.
Bizarre, because she could not be proud of working in such a place, but a position of any kind had been hard to obtain. Clancy was unhappy that she was doing such menial work, but her now visible pregnancy deterred prospective employers, and Anna had taken what she could get.
She got up slowly and carried the heavy bucket to the back drain and emptied it. Then she returned to the bar, taking care to step only on those parts of the floor which had already been dried by the draught of air which wafted through the open door, accompanied by the jumbled sounds and smells of the city.
Intending to close the door against the inevitable tide of men who would wander in if it was left open, Anna hesitated, breathing in air which smelled fresh and sweet compared to the atmosphere of the bar. No matter how hard she scrubbed, it still reeked of stale beer and tobacco. She peered outside, she enjoyed seeing downtown New York come to life each morning. Joe Kowalski was already outside his delicatessen opposite, painting slogans and prices on his window in large letters of whitewash. Other shopkeepers were washing down the sidewalk or opening up their shutters. It promised to be a good day for trade, mild for November, and with a clear sky after the heavy rain which for the last two days had driven customers to seek shelter at home.
Anna locked the door, it would be two hours until opening time. She went to the sink and began to wash the mountain of glasses left from the previous night. The bar owner, a balding, heavily set man with a huge belly, looked up from his accounts book as he heard the chink of glass.
'Coffee,' he barked.
Anna moved quickly to obey the command. She had become accustomed to the way Ben Brackley spoke, his sentences invariably consisted of only one or two words. She considered Brackley vulgar and entirely lacking in manners, but at least he paid her on time and let her get on with her work in peace. She poured him a cup of coffee and set it down on his desk. He made no acknowledgment, but as she turned back to the sink he said sharply, 'Where's yours?'
It was a moment before Anna realised he was referring to the coffee. She hesitated. 'I was not sure it was allowed...'
Brackley gave a sharp jerk of his head towards the coffee pot. Anna said 'Thank you,' and moved to pour herself a cup. Things were looking up, she thought as she returned to the sink. A few miserable dollars a week for fifty hours of slavery and a free cup of coffee into the bargain. She consoled herself with the recollection that tomorrow was Sunday and Clancy had promised to take her across the Brooklyn bridge, which spanned the great East River. They would walk to the other side, and then take the cable train back, and it seemed it might be good weather for their outing. She smiled happily to herself at the prospect and continued to wash the glasses.