The Favourite Child (45 page)

Bella’s heart contracted. ‘We’ve done our best but we obviously can’t go on indefinitely. I have a job to do, a clinic to run, and I’m not married.’

The woman considered her not unsympathetically. ‘A pity. Looks like you were doing a good job. But you have a clinic, you say. Ah yes, I remember, a Mothers’ Clinic. Splendid job you’re doing there, Miss Ashton. Much needed.’ The woman was already turning her attention back to her overloaded in-tray, filing papers, signing letters even as she talked. ‘Couldn’t you house these three at your clinic for a little while. We could overlook the fact you weren’t married if you could get one of your nurses to mind them. Temporarily at least. Otherwise, well, we’ll see what we can do but I don’t hold out much hope. Ignatius House is certainly full. I’d have to search further afield for suitable accommodation. Orphanages don’t provide many facilities for very young babies, they prefer them to be adopted, and with the country in the state it’s in at present, the number of prospective parents has seriously reduced in number. And of course, they have to be housed and fed in the meantime while we check out suitable adopters, have they not?’

It was all sounding far more complicated than even Bella had anticipated but one fact stood out amongst this morass of detail. ‘Further afield? How much further?’ She’d nursed a secret hope of being at least able to visit Holly once or twice a week, perhaps have her to stay occasionally.

The woman shrugged, said she really couldn’t say. Manchester, Preston, Blackburn Orphanage, who knew where they might end up. All good places, she assured Bella but because of the slump, Salford, for the moment at least, was full.

As if on cue, one of the babies gave a whimper of distress and the other two tuned up in sympathy. Bella gathered them up, placed them back in the bassinet and took them home again. She’d keep them for a short while longer, she promised. Just until suitable accommodation could be found.

The clinic over the cook shop was not at all a suitable place to accommodate small babies and Bella had no intention of keeping them there. They would continue to be cared for at her own house by Tilly, until alternative accommodation had been found. ‘What else could I do?’ she asked of her stalwart group of ‘ladies’.

‘Nay, nowt.’

‘Not with your soft heart, love.’

If they had any other opinion on the matter, for once they had the good sense to keep it to themselves. Only Violet sucked in her breath long and hard and warned her she was dicing with fate. ‘Thee thinks you can do owt, you, but wheel theeself in a barrow.’

Translated this meant that although Bella believed she could handle anything, she was expecting the impossible of herself this time. Bella hugged her dear friend and agreed that she probably had taken on too much but that the situation was only temporary. ‘The Board of Guardian office are involved now and will find all the babies new parents.’

‘Including your Holly?’

Bella swallowed. ‘Yes, even Holly.’

Violet gave this due consideration. ‘Our Dan’ll be glad to hear it. He’s been a bit low since he heard. It’s summat of a facer though, to be saddled with three childer even before thee’s wed. It’s like getting’ drunk without the pleasure of supping’ the beer, eh?’ She cackled with laughter and Bella was relieved to see that she hadn’t lost her sense of humour. ‘Aye, well, in the meantime thee’ll just have to hope thee hasn’t started a flood.’

Mrs Blundell however, had come up trumps. She had indeed located the mother of the second child. He belonged to Alice Clarke. Unfortunately, she’d given birth without assistance, had told her husband that the child had died and been taken away. She was now more than ready to accept help from Bella’s clinic as she simply couldn’t cope with the prospect of another child. ‘She’ll not have this one back though, not at any price. Says she has her hands full with those from his first marriage. It’d only starve to death if she kept it.’

‘The child must go for adoption then, with the rest.’

‘Aye. That’s the ticket.’

‘And the third baby?’

‘No luck there, not yet, but I’m still asking around. Someone must know of a pregnancy that hasn’t borne fruit.’

Within days the size of the task she’d taken on became all too clear to Bella. The babies ate, as Tilly remarked, like young gannets. From dawn to dusk and all through the night, the two girls seemed to be fully employed washing, changing, feeding and nursing babies. Yet because Bella was determined that her work at the clinic didn’t suffer, she insisted on taking on much of the night shift, so that Tilly could at least get some sleep as she carried the brunt of the work during the day.

‘You can’t burn the candle at both ends, Miss Isabella.’

‘I can cope for a little while.’

But it was a gargantuan task and feeding three babies took money. The woman at the Board of Guardian office agreed to make a small contribution to their welfare but it never seemed to be enough. Bella didn’t need to examine her empty savings account to know she was in dire difficulties there too.

Bella felt so desperate that she wrote a letter to her father, reminding him how pleased she was that they’d got on so much better over Christmas. It wasn’t strictly true since the good will had come entirely from her side but Bella felt it was worth a try. She explained that she was acting as temporary guardian for three children until adoptive parents could be found and begged Simeon for help, to perhaps make a small contribution or even to restore her allowance so that she could better cope with the situation. She was disappointed but not entirely surprised when he did not respond.

Unwilling to accept defeat or to believe that he could so easily ignore her, she called at the house in Seedley Park Road. It looked cold and unfriendly, the parlour blind half down, as usual, and the brass knocker daring anyone to tarnish its polished brightness. The door was opened by Mrs Dyson, since they had not taken on another maid to replace Tilly. But rather than exhibiting her usual degree of pleasure, the old housekeeper seemed unexpectedly troubled, even embarrassed, to find Bella standing before her. She half glanced back over her shoulder, drawing the door half closed as she hovered on the step and explained in a low whisper how she couldn’t let her in.

‘I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but the mistress has left strict instructions that should you ever appear on her doorstep, you are to be turned away and not permitted inside the house. Not at any price.’

‘Good heavens.’ Bella half laughed, for all this information came as a shock. Despite all their differences, she had never actually been refused admittance before, not to what was still, in effect, her own home. ‘What on earth have I done now? I thought we were on the way towards a reconciliation.’

‘Summat to do with your being - you know -
shamed
!’

Bella frowned, not understanding. ‘Shamed? What do you mean by that? In what way have I been shamed? Stop talking in riddles Mrs D and tell me straight.’

Mrs Dyson heaved a deep sigh, folded her hands in her pinny as if to stop them pulling Bella into her arms and, in a hoarse whisper, gently explained that she couldn’t let her in because Madam had received a letter. It told how her daughter had been the mistress of the notorious Billy Quinn and was even now carrying his child. As a result, Emily had issued instructions that she no longer recognised Isabella as her own daughter. ‘Certainly not one who’s turned herself into a fallen woman. Those were her words exactly, miss. I’m that sorry.’

Bella was reeling in shock, struggling to come to terms with this news. A voice in the back of her head told her that the letter could only have come from Quinn, that instead of writing to the papers he’d decided on making mischief within her own family. He’d carried out his vicious threat to ruin her reputation, despite having been beaten in a fair fight. But then, as Jinnie had said, when did Billy Quinn ever fight fair? Before she had time to offer any sort of defence, let alone an apology for her parents having been dragged into this mire, the housekeeper murmured an apology and closed the door in her face. Bella hammered on it for some minutes before finally admitting defeat and accepting that Mrs Dyson would not open it again.

She turned away, stunned and more upset by this rejection than she could express. Bella walked home in a more sober frame of mind than ever before, all her usual optimism and cheerful determination to make the best of things quite deserting her.

Once back home she got out her writing paper at once and wrote yet another note to her father, explaining that any letter they had received making such an accusation, had been done with mischief in mind.

‘Dear Pa, you know how I love you and would never for a moment intentionally bring shame upon you. If you would but grant me the opportunity, I could explain who wrote the letter and why. I can assure you that it was done by someone seeking to harm me. It is nothing but poison and completely untrue. I ask only for your love and forgiveness as I offer my humble apologies that this should cause you any distress.’

It was a cry from the heart but it brought forth not a word in response. Bella received no reply to this letter either.

By telling these nasty, anonymous lies to her parents, Quinn had robbed her of the last chance to breach the void between them. Bella was less surprised by her mother’s stiff-necked attitude but she wept for the loss of her beloved father.

Throughout their estrangement, Bella had always hoped Simeon would come round in the end, just as soon as he understood the good she was doing at the clinic. She could see no way now to heal the wound.

And then, quite out of the blue, it occurred to her that if Quinn had written such a poisonous letter to her mother, what in heaven’s name had he said to Dan? Would she lose him too?

1931

Dan had indeed heard the rumours and made no secret of his disappointment in her. Even had he not expressed what he felt in those terms, Bella could sense it in him. His eyes held such sadness, such loss of hope that her heart gave a tiny flip of despair.

‘But you must believe me when I tell you that it isn’t true. Of course I’m not pregnant. The very idea is ridiculous.’

The pair sat on a bench in the park, several freezing inches of cold ironwork between them, and talked as they never had before, Dan finally opening all the doors of suspicion that cluttered up his head.

At first he’d refused to believe it, he told her but his mates said there was no smoke without fire, and he was beginning to think they might be right. Perhaps it had been a mistake to champion Bella by fighting for her cause. What had it proved? ‘For all I know, you could’ve been Quinn’s mistress all along, still might be, laughing up yer sleeve at me being such a daft ‘apporth. After all,’ he concluded, ‘it’s evident to everyone that you and him were close, often seen in each other’s company.’ It pained him so much to have to say these things, yet the words poured out of his head, born of hurt and jealousy.

Bella was devastated. She had never felt more alone. She begged him to believe in her, to understand how stupidly she’d behaved and how sorry she was. ‘I don’t love Quinn. I never did. I was obsessed, intrigued, excited, oh, I don’t know why I went out with him. It was all a terrible mistake.’

Dan stared out across the park, the smell of new spring grass in the air, feeling the pit of misery swell in his belly, wanting to believe in her and finding himself quite unable to do so. Even now, he longed to reach out and pull her into his arms and kiss some warmth into her cold, pinched face. Yet he couldn’t. He felt frozen himself, chilled to the bone, all faith in her gone. No smoke without fire. He’d been made a fool of. A cuckold, wasn’t that the word? For all they weren’t wed yet, they were promised to each other, so it was just as bad. All his mates said so.

Even his own mother had refused to give him the assurance he sought that Bella had never actually let Quinn touch her. That it’d all been purely platonic. Violet had told him not to ask too many questions but to get on with life. Yet how could he? Bella expected him to believe in her innocence, had no objection to him fighting to defend it and yet she’d offered no proof of her innocence. He felt riddled with suspicion, embittered by it.