Sins of the Father (10 page)

As though sensing his thoughts, Tom growled, ‘That young tyke is getting too big for his boots.’

‘Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll come round to the idea,’ Horace said, wrinkling his nose. This awful room reeked of damp but before he could leave, there was still much to discuss. He wanted to persuade Emma to marry him sooner rather than later, and he might need her father’s support.

Horace turned to Emma now and, composing
his face, smiled, his voice deliberately gentle. ‘Emma, we haven’t had a chance to talk, and I haven’t thanked you yet for agreeing to be my wife. I’m sure we’ll be very happy, my dear, and with this in mind I’d like to set a date for the wedding.’

‘When are you thinking of?’ Tom asked.

‘I’d like it to be as soon as possible, perhaps next month. Also, if Emma doesn’t mind, I’d prefer a civil ceremony.’

‘Well, it’s all the same to me, but I don’t know about Emma. What do you think, girl?’

Both men now looked to Emma for her response. When it came her voice sounded dull, but resigned. ‘Whatever you say.’

Horace breathed a sigh of relief. Unlike a church wedding, a civil marriage would be quick and easy to arrange, and he’d get on to it first thing in the morning. Emma rose to her feet and he watched her as she went to the sink, filling a mug with water before gulping it down. She looked pale, yet despite this, when she returned to her stool he was once again struck by her beauty. Yes, he had chosen well. She came from a poor background, but unlike his first wife, Emma would be undemanding. Of course her clothes were appalling and he’d have to buy new ones that were more suited to her position. For a moment, the thought of spending money made his lips tighten, but then
he brightened. After the initial expense there would be no dress allowance, no unnecessary expenditure. Yes, things would be different this time, and he’d make sure the purse strings remained firmly in his hands.

‘If I’m to make the arrangements tomorrow, I’ll need Emma’s birth certificate, and of course, your permission, Tom.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Tom said, finding the certificate in an old biscuit tin and handing it over.

There was a racket outside, the door flying back as three girls rushed into the room, followed by a young lad. They were filthy ragamuffins, and Horace moved hastily out of their path. As his eyes met those of the young lad, Horace paused, seeing that under the grime he was an exceptionally handsome boy. Their gazes locked, and Horace shivered, finding himself uncomfortable under the lad’s intense scrutiny. There was something in his eyes, something deep and unfathomable, almost as if the boy could see into his soul.

‘This is Luke, my second son,’ Tom said, ‘and the girls are Susan, Bella and Ann.’

‘Emma, what’s for dinner?’ one of the girls cried.

Horace dragged his eyes away from the boy. He would have liked some time alone with Emma, but it was obvious that she had her hands full.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he told her, ‘but I’ll see you in the morning and we’ll talk again.’

Her brow creased. ‘You…you want me to come to work?’

Horace could have kicked himself. Until Emma was his wife, he’d have to tread carefully. ‘Goodness, what am I thinking of? I can’t expect you to do the cleaning now. I’ll find someone else to look after the house, but I doubt they’ll keep it as lovely as you.’

‘No, it’s all right,’ Emma said hurriedly. ‘With so many lovely ornaments, I wouldn’t want anyone cleaning them without supervision. We can find someone to replace me after we’re married, but until then I’d rather look after them myself.’

‘Married!’ a voice squeaked.

Horace turned to see that the exclamation came from a snotty-nosed girl and shuddered.

Emma’s smile seemed forced as she answered the child firmly. ‘Susan, we’ll talk later.’

Emma had been brought up in this area, and Horace knew that her diction needed work, but he’d soon sort that out. Little did she know that he had no intention of employing another cleaner, but that was something she’d find out after their marriage. Nevertheless, he was gratified that she showed such concern for his valued pieces of porcelain. ‘Thank you, Emma. You’re right; many of the ornaments are delicate and your concern
is commendable. I’ll see you in the morning, my dear.’ Moving towards the door, he nodded briefly at Tom, about to leave when the man spoke.

‘Hang on, I’ll come with you. We should have a drink to celebrate.’

Horace hid a scowl as Tom joined him. He wanted nothing to do with the rest of Emma’s family and the sooner Tom Chambers found that out, the better. He waited until they were outside before making his feelings plain.

‘Now that Emma has agreed to marry me, you can continue to live in your flat rent free as agreed. However, when Emma is my wife, I won’t stand for any interference. You and the rest of your family will not be welcome at my house, and this is the last of the free handouts.’

‘Now then, there’s no need for that,’ Tom wheedled. ‘Who said anything about free handouts? Come on, man, you seem to be forgetting that I’m soon to be your father-in-law. I only suggested a celebratory drink.’

‘You’re buying, are you?’ Horace said sarcastically.

‘Well, I must admit I’m a bit short at the moment…’

‘Yes, I thought so. All right, Tom, I’ll buy you a drink, but it’ll be the last one you ever get out of me.’

*    *    *

Emma was relieved to see her father leave with Mr Bell. The children clamoured around her, Luke the most affected by the news.

‘But why are you going to marry him, Emma?’

‘Because he’s got a lovely house, lots of money, and once we’re married you can all come to live there.’

‘Will I get a room all to myself?’ Susan asked eagerly.

‘I should think so.’

‘And me?’ Bella piped up.

It was Luke who burst the bubble. ‘Has he said we can move in, Emma?’

‘Well, no, but I’m sure he’ll agree.’

Luke’s face was grave. ‘I don’t think he will.’

‘What makes you say that?’ Emma asked, her voice sharp.

‘I dunno. It’s just a feeling.’

Emma paled. Luke didn’t do this often, but as on other occasions, when he had a feeling about something it usually turned out to be true, like the time he had somehow foreseen that Susan would fall down the stairs, his prompt action averting a nasty accident.

Emma hid her concern, hoping she sounded more assured than she felt. ‘Look, don’t worry. I’ll speak to Mr Bell about it in the morning and I’m sure it’ll be all right.’

With her eyes veiled, Emma’s thoughts raced.
If Horace refused to let the children move in, what would happen to them? If he said no, how could she leave them to fend for themselves? Unexpectedly, the responsibility of the children weighed heavily on her and she felt a surge of resentment. At first she’d been horrified at the idea of marriage, but then the thought of living permanently in that lovely house had swayed her. She had fantasised about it being hers, and now her fantasy was coming true. Of course, talking to Alice had helped, especially when the woman assured her that the sexual side of marriage wasn’t as bad as she had feared.

Emma rose to her feet, ushering the girls from her side as she began to prepare their dinner. It all rested on what Mr Bell had to say about the children in the morning, and now she found herself wishing the hours away.

Tom scowled as Horace Bell left the pub. Bloody skinflint! He had been tempted to tell the uppity sod that he could forget marrying Emma, but common sense prevailed. He needed someone to take the kids on–the sods were driving him bloody mad–and if things went well with Polly, he might be able to tempt her with a rent-free flat. She might balk at the idea of taking on five kids, but Dick would be one less, old enough now to find a place of his own. Mind you, he’d miss the lad’s money, but once Emma was married to Horace Bell, she was sure to tip him a few bob.

He licked his lips as he pictured Polly. Unlike Myra, who had been a smasher when he married her, Polly’s face wasn’t much to look at, but her figure was enough to tempt any man. She wasn’t very tall, but nicely rounded, and as time was called in the pub, he decided to pop round to see her.

She lived in the next street, and another plus was that she didn’t have any nippers of her own. As he knocked on the door, Tom was a little nervous. It had been a long time since he’d done this courting lark, and though Polly always stopped to have a word when she saw him, her smile warm and holding a coy invitation, he hadn’t asked her out yet.

Her eyes rounded when she saw him on the step, but she soon regained her equilibrium.

‘Tom, what a nice surprise! What can I do for you, love?’

‘Er…I was wondering if I could have a word.’

‘Of course you can.’

‘Can I come in?’

Polly frowned and leaned forward, her eyes flicking up and down the street. ‘Yeah, all right.’

Tom following the woman along a long narrow passage and into a small back kitchen. He glanced around. It wasn’t much, but spotless, and that was another point in Polly’s favour. ‘Do you fancy a drink, Tom?’

‘I wouldn’t say no.’

‘I’ve only got a bottle of gin but you’re welcome to a snifter. Take a seat, love.’

Tom watched as Polly found two cups. Having opened the bottle she poured them each a good measure, her smile rueful.

‘I hate Sundays, Tom. It’s a family day and rotten
on your own. I ain’t much of a drinker, but on Sundays this is my special treat and it gets me through. Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?’

Tom took a swig of gin and grimaced. He wasn’t fond of the stuff, but it gave him a bit of Dutch courage. ‘Well, girl, I was wondering if I could take you out one night.’

‘Me! You want to take me out?’

Tom chuckled at the expression on her face. ‘Well, there ain’t anyone else here and I wasn’t talking to the wall.’

She didn’t respond, only taking another sip of gin, but then their eyes met and she smiled. ‘Blimey, this has come as a bit of a shock.’

‘Leave it out, Polly. You must have twigged that I fancy you.’

‘No, not really. I know we’ve had a chat now and then, but I thought with you losing your wife less than a year ago…well—’

Tom broke in, ‘I’m just asking you out for a drink, that’s all. There’d be no strings attached, and as for Myra, I know she wouldn’t want me to sit at home moping.’

‘No, of course she wouldn’t. Your wife was a lovely woman. It’s awful that she died so young.’ Polly paused for a moment, then said, ‘All right, Tom, you’re on.’

‘Smashing. How about tonight? We could walk
over to Chelsea and have a drink in a pub by the river.’

Polly shook her head. ‘If it’s all the same to you, Tom, I’d rather stick to our local. Some pubs still frown on women and I’d feel a bit uncomfortable. The landlord in the King’s Arms doesn’t turn a hair as long as I use the saloon bar.’

‘Leave it out, love. Times are changing. Still, if you’d feel more comfortable in our local, it suits me. How about I pick you up at eight?’

‘Yes, that’s fine. Now would you like another drink?’

‘Yeah, why not? I’ve nothing to rush home for.’

‘Oh, well, how about staying for a bite to eat then?’

‘I’d like that,’ Tom said, relaxed now and leaning back in his chair.

He watched as she began to bustle around, a small smile on his face. Polly was a bit of all right, no oil painting, but a man could drown in those tits. Christ, he needed a woman and he wondered how long it would be before he could get her into bed…

Polly too was thinking hard as she prepared a cold meal. Christ, fancy Tom Chambers asking her out! They had both grown up in this area, and she’d seen him turn from a gawky schoolboy into a smashing-looking bloke. He’d had his pick of the girls, and it had been no surprise when he had
chosen Myra. She had been a beauty, tall and leggy with natural blonde hair, but Polly had to admit that she’d gone down over the years. Mind you, with having that brood of kids it wasn’t surprising.

She glanced surreptitiously at Tom, still unable to believe that he was sitting at her table. She had always fancied him, but he’d hardly looked her way until now. Polly sighed heavily. She craved men’s arms around her, liking a bit of slap and tickle, but lately was growing fearful of her reputation. Gossip was spreading, keeping her indoors more than usual, and if anyone else had asked her out at the moment, she’d have said no.

As Polly turned to carry the plates to the table, their eyes met and Tom winked, his smile warm. Her hands shook. God, he was gorgeous.

‘It’s only a bit of Spam, tomatoes, bread and pickle.’

‘That’ll do me, love.’

They sat facing each other. With her throat constricted with nerves, Polly was hardly able to swallow her food, but what did it matter? It wasn’t food she wanted, it was Tom Chambers. She wanted to drown in his arms, to feel his lips on hers, and then the thought of what might follow had her fidgeting with desire in her chair. Christ, she didn’t want to ruin her chances, didn’t want Tom to think her brazen. She would have to go carefully.

‘You’re only picking at your food, Polly. Are you feeling all right?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m not very hungry, that’s all.’

As their eyes locked it was as if some sort of unspoken signal passed between them.

Tom stood up, holding out his hand. He said, ‘Shall we go upstairs?’

Despite her desires, Polly hesitated. As much as she wanted Tom, if she slept with him now he’d think her a tart and that was the last thing she wanted. There were those around here who already thought it was true, and if gossip reached his ears he’d believe it.

‘Tom, we can’t.’

‘Of course we can. I can see by the look in your eyes that your need is as great as mine.’

‘It…it wouldn’t be right. Anyway, I…I’m not that sort of woman.’

‘Of course you’re not, but what harm would it do? We’re both free, both lonely, and I wouldn’t think any less of you. Mind you, there’s only one thing.’

‘Oh, and what’s that?’

‘Promise you’ll be gentle with me.’

Polly laughed as she took his hand and led him to her bed.