Emma (13 page)

I started up as the door was unlocked and he came in. My mother followed, bringing a tray of tea and some toast.

‘Are you all right, Emma?’ she asked, looking at me anxiously.

‘Yes, Mum. Don’t worry.’

She put the tray down and departed, giving me a look that spoke volumes over her shoulder. Any courage she might have had the previous evening had gone and she was obviously nervous.

‘Well,’ Father said, entering the room. ‘Have you thought it over?’

‘Yes.’ I raised my head as his eyes seemed to bore into me. ‘You are my father whatever you say. Mum wouldn’t lie.’

‘I’ve accepted it for the look of things,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll not start to deny you publicly now – unless you defy me.’

‘You’ve made it impossible for me to do that, haven’t you?’

‘So you’re going to be sensible.’ He nodded, eyes glittering with satisfaction. ‘I thought you might. Behave properly and nothing need change, Emma. We’ll go on as before.’

‘What about the child? I shan’t be able to keep it a secret for long. Aren’t you afraid of what people will say?’

‘I’ve been thinking about that.’ He gave me a hard look. ‘I’ll arrange things.’

‘You can’t cover this up. Why don’t you let me go away? No one need know the truth.’

‘I’ve told you. I’ll not be made a fool of in this town. Do you think the gossips wouldn’t get hold of the tale?’

‘But—’

‘Eat your breakfast and come down to the shop. You’ll do as you’re told, or you know what will happen. Every defiant look, every sullen word, believe me … your mother will pay for it.’

‘You don’t have to tell me again.’

He nodded, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. ‘As long as we understand each other.’

He turned and went out of the room. As soon as he had gone, my mother rushed back in. I looked at the dark bruises on her arm and felt sick with fear.

‘Mum!’ I cried. ‘He hurt you.’

She touched her arm. ‘He has done it before, but not where it shows, and not often. He was too angry to think last night. We should leave now, while he’s in the shop, Emma. Go to the police.’

‘You know that wouldn’t stop him,’ I said. ‘We can’t go. He would come after us.’

‘He has hated me ever since he discovered I wasn’t a virgin on our wedding night.’ She blinked away her tears. ‘There was someone else before him and he has never forgiven me for it.’

‘Am I his daughter, Mum? Please tell me the truth.’

‘Yes, Emma. God forgive me, I wish you weren’t!’

‘Oh, Mum.’ I moved towards her and we hugged. ‘I’m so sorry. So sorry for bringing all this on you.’

‘It’s not your fault. If that unnatural man had given you more freedom you might have known a bit more – been aware of what men are. I blame myself. I encouraged Paul here.’

‘No, Mum. I knew it was wrong. I just didn’t think … until it was too late. It was nice kissing and … but it went too far.’

‘You’re not the first to get caught like that.’ She sighed and gave me a little push away from her. ‘Don’t think I don’t understand, because I do. None better. Something similar happened to me, except that in my case it was my own fault. I sent him off because I thought he would never amount to anything. I wanted more than a railwayman’s cottage. I was a fool and I’ve regretted it – but there was nothing I could do once I realized what a mistake I’d made.’

‘Oh, Mum! I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s too long ago to cry over. You had better get ready and go down to the shop, love. Until we can sort something out.’

‘Yes, I know. It’s all right, don’t worry. I’m not afraid of him anymore.’

She nodded. I knew she had accepted the situation, at least for the time being. Neither of us wanted to stay here, but what else could we do?

Perhaps Jonathan Reece could help? He worked for a firm of lawyers, didn’t he? I wasn’t sure if anyone could help me, but I might ask Paul’s cousin when he came at the weekend – if I got the chance.

That Saturday, I waited with some misgivings for Jonathan to come into the shop. It was going to be difficult if Father was there when he arrived. I should probably be sent upstairs and forbidden to speak to him – and he would take it out on my mother later if I disobeyed. I felt slightly relieved when evening came and Jonathan hadn’t been in.

He had promised he wouldn’t let me down, but perhaps he hadn’t been able to get in touch with Paul. Somehow I was still sure that Jonathan would come when he could – besides, it didn’t matter. I didn’t really need money now, though I had decided to take what was offered. Why shouldn’t I? My child might need it one day, even if I didn’t.

I was having supper when Father came upstairs after closing the shop. It was earlier than usual and I was surprised when he announced his intention of going out.

‘I’m off now,’ he said, giving us a hard stare. ‘I may be late back – so don’t bother waiting up for me.’

‘Where are you going?’ Mother asked.

‘Mind your own business. I’ll tell you both what you need to know when I’m ready.’

‘I hate you, Harold Robinson.’

‘Aye, I know it. The feeling is mutual.’

He turned round and walked out, leaving silence behind him.

‘What is he up to?’ my mother asked. ‘He’s up to something, I know he is – something neither of us is going to like.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Mum,’ I said. ‘If we had enough money we could go where he wouldn’t be able to find us – maybe to America or somewhere far away.’

‘I wish I knew what he does with his money!’

‘It’s in a bank somewhere, I expect.’

‘Harold Robinson put his money in a bank?’ She snorted with disbelief. ‘He doesn’t trust them. No, it will be in property or the like. If I could just get my hands on some of it, I’d show him.’

‘How much would it cost for a passage to Australia for us both?’

‘Far more than either of us are ever likely to have – we would need money to live on as well, remember. Forget it, Emma. As long as he doesn’t hit you I can put up with him – for the time being.’

I nodded reluctantly. She seemed to have accepted the situation. It was all we could do for the moment – but perhaps one day it might be different. If I could somehow get enough money together …

I went to church with my mother the next morning. Father had insisted that we go, because people might think it strange if we didn’t. He had seemed in a good mood at breakfast, smiling and nodding to himself as if he knew something that pleased him.

‘He’s definitely got something up his sleeve,’ Mother said as we walked to church. ‘Did you see the way he was grinning to himself? What has he done, that’s what I’d like to know.’

‘Was he very late in last night?’

‘It was past eleven when I heard him come in. He didn’t come upstairs for an hour or more. I pretended to be asleep but I could smell the whisky on his breath.’

‘I didn’t think he drank whisky!’ I stared at her. ‘Was he drunk?’

‘Not so as you’d notice. He’d had a few, but he never drinks too much. He might lose control – and Harold likes to be in control.’

‘I wonder why he closed the shop early? It couldn’t have been because he wanted to go to the pub. There would have been plenty of time for that later.’

‘I’ve got a nasty feeling about that,’ she said and frowned. ‘It was something that amused him, I know that.’

I nodded but we had reached the church. We went in and took our usual places. I had half-hoped Paul would be there, but of course that was impossible: he was far away and even if he had wanted he couldn’t have returned so quickly.

Kneeling down, I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer, though without much hope of it being answered. Then, sensing someone beside me, I glanced to my left and saw it was Richard Gillows. He smiled as I sat back on the pew and picked up my prayer book.

‘Surprised?’ he whispered. ‘I came to see you, Emma.’

I put a finger to my lips as the vicar began to speak. He nodded but there was a look of expectancy in his eyes, which made me uneasy. I had never known Richard to come to church before.

Throughout the service I was very conscious of him sitting next to me. He had a good strong voice and sang the hymns with confidence. Every now and then he shot me a knowing look, which made me more and more uncomfortable.

When we left the church he kept close by my side. I tried to walk on ahead, but he caught my arm, holding me back.

‘I’d like a word, please,’ he said, and then, as my mother looked at him, ‘I’ve spoken to Mr Robinson. He says it’s all right if I take Emma for a walk.’

‘Emma …’ Mother looked at me, then nodded. ‘You’d best go with him, love.’

I let Richard take my arm as we turned away. My chest felt tight and I found it difficult to breathe. So this was what Father had looked so pleased about that morning! He had obviously been talking to Richard about me … arranging things. I knew what Richard was going to say to me even before he started, which he did when we reached the river bank.

‘You know I’m mighty fond of you, Emma. Always have been.’

‘Please don’t say it, Richard.’ My eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t love you. I’m sorry but I don’t.’

‘I reckon I know that.’ His forehead creased. ‘It was that smarmy toff as turned your head. Before he came, I reckon you liked me well enough.’

I turned my face aside, holding back my tears.

‘Please, Richard … don’t.’

He caught my hand as I would have walked away. ‘I love you, Emma. I’m not much of a man with words and I know you don’t love me – but I’d be good to you. I’d work for you and try to make a good life for us both.’

‘Oh, Richard.’ I felt terrible. I had never wanted his attentions but was now humbled by his words. ‘You don’t understand. You don’t know what I’ve done.’

‘Why don’t you tell me?’

His voice was so gentle, so understanding. Suddenly the tears were flowing as I blurted out the truth.

‘Father shouldn’t have encouraged you,’ I said. ‘You won’t want to marry me now.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I’m having another man’s child.’

He was silent for a moment. I broke away from him.

‘Don’t go, Emma. I love you. I still want to marry you.’

‘You can’t. You can’t want to.’ I started walking back the way we had come but he ran after me, catching my arm, swinging me round to face him. ‘Please – leave me alone.’

‘Emma! Don’t run away from me. Listen to me.’ I stopped and looked at him, struck by the urgency in his voice. ‘I do want to marry you. I won’t say I don’t mind about the child – but it’s something I can live with. I want you to be my wife.’

‘No, Richard – no. It wouldn’t work.’

‘Why not? It makes sense.’ He gave me an impatient shake. ‘Do you want everyone talking about you, laughing behind your back?’ I shook my head, not looking him in the face. ‘Well, then! They’ll think it’s mine – maybe a bit early but that’s better than being unwed, isn’t it?’ I nodded reluctantly. ‘Marry me, Emma.’

‘I don’t know …’

I felt my will to resist weakening. It would be one way out of the mess I was in – one way of saving Father’s pride and making things easier on my mother.

‘Think about it, Emma. I’ll walk you home and then come back this evening for my answer.

‘It will still be no. It wouldn’t be fair to you.’

‘You let me worry about that.’

I remained silent, not speaking once as we walked home. At the door I turned to him.

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘I shall be here at six. Don’t be stubborn, Emma. I’ll be good to you. You know I love you.’

I inclined my head, accepting it without comment. He stood staring after me as I left him and went into the house.

Father was waiting at the top of the stairs. He looked at me expectantly.

‘Richard asked me to marry him,’ I said, ‘but you know that, don’t you?’

‘I gave him my permission to ask you.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I hope you were sensible?’

‘I’ve told him I’ll think about it.’

‘It’s him or no one,’ Father said. ‘Turn him down and I’ll make you sorry.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I suppose you will.’

I went into my bedroom and closed the door. When it was opened almost at once I flinched, waiting for his next onslaught, but it was my mother.

‘You should think carefully,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to push you into anything, love – but it is a way out for you. If you defy Harold over this he’ll make your life a misery.’

‘And yours.’

‘It doesn’t matter about me. I am thinking of you. There are worse men about than Richard Gillows.’

‘Yes, I expect so.’ I sank down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. ‘I don’t love him, Mum.’

‘Does he make you shudder when he touches you?’

‘No.’ I stared at her, understanding what she meant. ‘He’s not that bad. I don’t actually dislike him but I don’t love him either.’

‘He isn’t Paul?’ She nodded as I didn’t answer. ‘No one will be, Emma. You’re not likely to meet anyone like that again. He was out of our league. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, but—’ I felt the lump in my throat, choking me. ‘But I still love him, Mum. I know he didn’t love me. I know he won’t marry me – but I still love him.’

‘We could still go away – take a chance.’

‘It’s too much of a risk.’

‘Don’t marry Richard if you really can’t bear the thought of it. I’ve wished a thousand times I had thought more about what I was doing before I married. Have the child and brazen it out. It doesn’t matter what people think.’

‘I’ve told Richard I’ll give him an answer this evening.’

‘Oh, Emma.’ She looked at me sadly. ‘It’s all such a mess … all such a mess.’

I saw the letters waiting on the mat when I went downstairs the following Monday morning. I slipped the one addressed to me into my pocket and took the others through to the stockroom for Father. He was looking at something in his rolltop desk, but shut it hurriedly when I entered. I caught a glimpse of something shiny but wasn’t sure what it was. He obviously didn’t want me to see.

‘Two letters,’ I said, handing them to him. ‘Do you want me to help in the shop this morning – or shall I get on with the accounts?’

He opened the envelopes I had given him, frowned as he saw they were bills and tossed them onto the desk.