Forgive and Forget (34 page)

‘Besides, we need the money,’ Violet went on, knowing that this was the best way to pull at Polly’s heartstrings. ‘Dad picks up the odd labouring job where they’re not too fussy about his murky past, but with Eddie gone and Stevie’s money’s only a pittance, we’re getting desperate.’

Resolutely, Polly turned her attention back to her sister. She sighed heavily. ‘I’ll have to talk it over with Roland. Make sure he doesn’t mind.’

Violet pulled a face. ‘It’d only be in the daytime, Poll. He’s at work then. It won’t interfere with him. In fact – ’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t even have to tell him.’

‘Oh no. Let’s not start that. I’m having no secrets from my husband. If I do it – and I’m not saying I will yet – it will have to be with his blessing.’ There was a brief pause in which the two sisters regarded one another, each challenging the other. Violet was the first to drop her gaze.

‘So – have you got a job?’ Polly asked. ‘Are you going back to Mawer and Collingham’s?’

‘No!’ Violet snapped. ‘Miss Carr heard about Michael and she – ’ Violet’s cheeks flamed – ‘told me they don’t employ “fallen women”. She actually called me that, Poll. A fallen woman.’

‘What are you going to do then?’

‘Well . . .’ Violet ran her tongue nervously round her lips. ‘I was wondering if Roland could find me something.’

Polly gaped at her and then burst out laughing. ‘If you were thinking of asking Roland to get you a job, didn’t you think he’d ask what was going to happen to the baby?’

‘In that case, I wouldn’t have asked him, would I?’ Violet’s tone was impatient. ‘But since you’re going to tell him anyway.’

‘Look, Vi. I don’t agree with what you want to do, but if it makes you happy then let me ask him about me looking after Michael first and then – well, we’ll see what he says.’

‘Oh, Poll.’ Violet, her eyes shining, flung her arms around her sister, enveloping Polly and the baby. ‘You are good to me. I don’t deserve it.’

‘No, you don’t,’ Polly agreed wryly, but she was smiling as she said it.

Roland was reluctant at first.

‘But haven’t you enough to do, Polly dear?’ He glanced appreciatively around him. ‘You’ve got this house looking grand. You cook the most wonderful meals.’ He smiled and patted his stomach. ‘I’ll be putting on weight at this rate.’ As Roland was as thin as the proverbial lath, she thought an extra pound or two wouldn’t do him any harm. ‘I mean,’ he went on, ‘you go round there to help out most days already, don’t you?’

Polly shrugged. ‘Yes, but I don’t stay all day. Not like I’d have to if I looked after Michael. Mind you, I’d have him here so I could get on with my own work.’

His expression softened. ‘But what if we have our own baby?’

Roland’s love-making was tender and thoughtful. He never made rough demands on her, but sought her willingness shyly. And his whole attitude towards her was gentle and loving – and grateful. Everything he did was for her and she was humbled by his overwhelming love for her. If only, she thought, she could love him in return.

She was fond of him – very fond – and that fondness was growing into a kind of love. But it was not the exhilarating, tingling, heart-racing love she’d felt for Leo. And sadly, for them both, she didn’t think it ever would be. But Roland was a good man and he deserved her devotion. And she knew instinctively that he would be a good father. She hoped that they would have a child of their own. He deserved that much and she knew her own happiness and contentment lay in having children of her own. Her love for them would know no bounds.

‘I hope we do,’ she told him softly. ‘And I’m only prepared to look after Michael if I can. If I find it’s too much, I’ll tell her. I shall make that plain from the start.’

‘Well, as long as you don’t overdo it, I don’t mind. And don’t think you have to get rid of him before I arrive home. I quite like the little chap.’ He smiled shyly at her. ‘It’ll be good practice for me, won’t it? I’ve never had the chance to be around children much.’ There was a brief pause before he asked, ‘Has she got a job lined up then?’

Polly laughed. ‘No. She wondered if there are any jobs going at Cannon’s.’

Roland stared at her for a moment and then joined in her laughter. ‘Your young sister certainly has a nerve.’

Violet started work at the glue factory the following week, bringing Michael to Polly’s home each morning and collecting him each evening.

‘Your Roland’s a lovely feller,’ she said to Polly at the end of her first week. ‘And I’m not saying that just because he found me a job and he’s letting you look after Michael. He’s been great this week at work, keeping an eye on me and helping me settle in. He even watches that the other women don’t get on to me. Mind you,’ her eyes glinted. ‘I don’t need anyone to stick up for me. I can look after mesen.’

‘I bet you can,’ Polly remarked wryly.

‘They’re all right – the other women. Quite a good bunch, really.’

Polly nodded. ‘Nelly Rawdon will look out for you. Have you met her yet?’

Violet laughed. ‘Oh yes. Our Nelly. She’s a character and a half, isn’t she?’

‘Get
her
on your side, Vi, and you’ll be all right.’

‘Oh, I already have,’ Violet said airily. ‘She’s the ringleader, isn’t she? I’d sussed that out by Tuesday. We’re bosom pals now, though Ida doesn’t like it.’

Polly laughed, enjoying hearing about her former workmates. ‘Ida Norton and Nelly have been sworn enemies for years. But you’re best with Nelly. She’s loud and vulgar, but she’s a heart of gold. And she’s loyal to her mates. Ida isn’t; she’s spiteful. She can be a friend one day and fall out with you the next. No, no, you stick with Nelly, Vi, and you’ll be all right. Besides, Ida is Vince Norton’s wife.’

Violet’s eyes widened. ‘The bloke that Eddie worked for?’

Polly nodded grimly. ‘He all but got our Eddie put in jail. If Eddie hadn’t joined the army pretty sharpish, I reckon that’s where our dear brother would have ended up.’

Now Violet’s eyes narrowed. ‘Vince Norton’s wife, eh? Well, well, well,’ she murmured as she stored away the piece of information, which just might come in handy one day.

‘Nelly was asking after you,’ she told Polly. ’Course, it’s all round the works that Roland’s me brother-in-law. Put their backs up a bit until I let ’em know I’m not expecting any favours.’

‘Give her my regards. Tell her to come round sometime if she likes. I’d love a good gossip and a catch up.’

Nelly arrived on Polly’s doorstep the following Sunday afternoon.

‘Not interrupting owt, am I?’

Polly smiled a welcome and threw the door open wide, welcoming the woman into her home.

‘Of course not. Roland’s having his Sunday afternoon nap in the front room. We can have a good old gossip in the kitchen. That’s if you don’t mind sitting in the kitchen.’ Polly would have loved to have shown off her smart front room with its new curtains and polished furniture, but she was anxious to replace the worn rugs too, before showing it to anyone other than her husband. And Albie’s Selina hadn’t visited yet to teach her how to make peg rugs.

‘I prefer it, duck,’ Nelly said, sitting her huge bulk down on one of Polly’s kitchen chairs to wait for a cup of tea and a home-made scone with jam and cream. She was already licking her lips as she eyed the plate Polly set before her.

Nelly Rawdon was something of a legend. She was a big woman in all senses of the word and was afraid of no one, man or woman. She made friends easily and enemies just as easily and probably in equal measure, but it was to Nelly folk went if they were in trouble or needed help. She was another Bertha Halliday, but without Bertha’s skill and knowledge to bring babies into the world and ease the elderly out of it. Yet she was often to be found at both events, giving moral support and practical help where she could. She knew Bertha well as they ran into each other frequently. They were not particularly friendly, but respected each other for what they did. And Bertha had, on more than one occasion, been thankful for the other woman’s larger-than-life presence. Nelly was red-cheeked, with light brown hair that had recently acquired a peppering of grey. Maybe, Polly thought, despite the woman’s cheerful smile and laughing eyes, she’d also had anxieties of late. Her husband, Sid, had been arrested a day after William and had served three months ‘up the hill’ for his part in the riots.

‘How’s yar dad?’ Nelly asked, her mouth full as she bit into the warm scone with relish, jam and cream oozing round her mouth.

‘All right. Not working. Hasn’t done since – well, you know.’

‘Aye, I do. My Sid’s the same. Employers don’t like ex-cons, do they?’

Polly was silent. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Talking about that terrible time brought back all her own heartache.

‘So,’ she said brightly, ‘tell me all the gossip from the factory. And is my sister behaving herself?’

‘Oh, she’ll be all right. I’ve kept me eye on her, soon as I found out who she was. Some of the others didn’t like it at first, but she’s made it clear she’s not looking for special treatment from your old man. Mebbe she got the job ’cos of him, but we’d all do the same if we had the chance. No, we don’t hold that against her, only if she tried to lord it over us, but she dun’t.’

‘Good.’

‘Mind you,’ Nelly went on with a raucous laugh. ‘She’s a bit of a gal, ain’t she?’

Polly looked up sharply. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘She’s a flirt, Poll. Eyes up all the fellers. Married ones an’ all. Meks no difference to her.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘Don’t let it bother you, duck. She’s not the only one an’ she’s only havin’ a bit of fun. Does she still see Micky Fowler?’

Violet made no secret of the fact that Micky was her baby’s father; it was her way of getting back at him for having deserted her. Micky was still around, but he never came to the Longdens’ home now, not since the first few months of the baby’s life.

Polly shook her head. ‘Not that I know of.’ Then she smiled wryly. ‘But you never know with our Vi.’

The two women gossiped happily until Roland appeared yawning and stretching.

Nelly heaved herself up. ‘Now, Mester Spicer, I don’t expect you want to see me on a Sunday as well as all week.’

‘You’re all right, Mrs Rawdon. I’m sure Polly’s pleased to see you. Don’t rush off on my account.’

‘I’d best be going anyway. Sid’ll be wanting his tea.’

‘How is he?’ Roland asked quietly. ‘Any luck with work?’

Nelly pursed her lips and shook her head.

‘I have tried in the past to get work for him – ’ Roland glanced at Polly – ‘and William at our place, but the boss wouldn’t hear of it.’ Now he smiled. ‘But now I’m in charge I’m watching out for suitable vacancies for them both, though there’s nothing at the moment, I’m afraid. Not for men.’

Even Polly hadn’t known this.

‘That’s good of you, Mr Spicer,’ Nelly said solemnly. ‘I ’preciate it. Still, we manage better than most. Both our lads are in work and they pay their way at home. And as long as my job’s safe.’

‘Oh, it is, it is, Mrs Rawdon. You’re an asset to the workforce.’ He chuckled softly and his eyes twinkled. ‘I rely on you to keep the other women in line.’

She laughed with him. ‘Well, if that’s the case, Harry Barnes’d better watch out for his job then. You might want to make me the foreman.’

As Polly walked out of the back door and into the yard to see Nelly off, the older woman turned to her. ‘You’re making that man really happy, love. It’s a pleasure to see him smiling and joking. He never did when his mam were alive. She was an old sourpuss if ever there was one.’

‘But she was ill, wasn’t she?’

‘Latterly, yes. But she was an owd beezum long before that. I knew Maud Spicer all her life and she was always a miserable, whining girl. How she ever got to catch a husband I’ll never know, ’cos Roland’s dad was a nice bloke. Shame he died so young and poor Roland got lumbered with looking after her. Still, he’s happy now. Anyone can see that.’ She lowered her voice and bent a little closer. ‘I just hopes you are an’ all, duck.’

Polly smiled, and to her surprise, was able to answer truthfully, ‘Oh yes, Nelly, I’m happy enough.’

Nelly eyed her shrewdly and then gave a brief nod. She understood the meaning behind Polly’s words perhaps better than even the girl herself did. Polly had chosen her bed and she was lying in it with a determination to make it work, but that didn’t mean that locked away in the depths of her heart there wasn’t a yearning for what might have been that would never go away.

The next morning there was another knock at the door. Polly, with Michael on her hip, opened it to find a strange woman there, carrying a huge carpetbag. At first she thought it was a gypsy telling fortunes or selling pegs. The woman, with black hair and swarthy skin, was dressed in flowery, flowing garments beneath a moth-eaten fur coat. Bracelets jangled on her wrists and her dark violet eyes caught and held Polly’s glance. Before the girl could speak, the woman said, ‘I’m Selina – Albie’s wife. He said you want to know how to make peg rugs.’

Polly’s face brightened. ‘Oh, yes, yes. Please come in. Just let me put this little one back in his pen. This is very good of you.’