Читать книгу A Daughter’s Courage: A powerful, gritty new saga from the Sunday Times bestseller - Kitty Neale - Страница 13

It was the same thing every day and had been going on since Robbie had left. Dorothy would rush home from work, run straight to the kitchen and ask if there was any post for her. Alice knew that her daughter was desperately waiting on news from Robbie, but there were no letters. Each day she saw the disappointed look on her daughter’s face, yet Dorothy still held out hope, which was more than Alice did. Though Dorothy had kept it to herself, gossip had reached Alice that Robbie had been involved in some sort of robbery, and if that was true her daughter was better off without him. It also explained why he’d done a runner and she doubted they’d see him in these parts again. Of course, eventually Dorothy would have to accept the fact that Robbie had gone for good and wasn’t coming back to marry her, but she was dreading the day when the truth finally sank in and she would be left to pick up the pieces of her daughter’s broken heart.

Though it was a cold November day, Alice was wet with perspiration as she heaved out the next load of washing. Mrs Pierce had given her a large bag of dirty bedding and, as Alice sorted through the laundry, she noticed bloodstains on one of the sheets. It didn’t faze her – she was used to dealing with women’s menstrual mishaps – but all of a sudden reality hit. Alice gasped and dropped the dirty sheet. She felt giddy and reached out to the kitchen table to steady herself, just as the door flew open and Dorothy walked in.

‘Hello, Mum. Anything for me from the postman?’

Alice couldn’t bring herself to look up at her daughter, let alone answer her.

‘Mum … are you all right?’

She drew in a long breath. Maybe she was mistaken. Perhaps she had just missed the signs but there was only one way to find out. Her voice was grave, slow and steady as she stood as tall as her bent back would allow and asked, ‘Dottie, when did you last have a period?’

The colour drained from Dorothy’s face as she looked at her mother, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

‘I thought as much,’ Alice said scathingly. ‘You’ve gone and got yourself in the family way.’

‘No … Mum. I can’t be … but … but …’

‘But? What’s that supposed to mean, Dorothy Butler? Don’t you “but” me, young lady! Are you pregnant or not?’

‘I don’t think so … but … oh, Mum, I think I may have missed a period. No, no, I can’t be pregnant … I just can’t be!’

‘Did you give yourself to that Robbie?’

Dorothy didn’t answer.

‘Well, did you?’ Alice shouted and saw Dottie’s body flinch. She wasn’t usually one to raise her voice, but the thought of her daughter being an unmarried mother … oh, the shame of it.

‘Yes,’ Dorothy answered quietly, her head lowered.

‘Then of course you could be pregnant, you silly girl. Oh, Dorothy, I thought you knew better. How could you do this to me? That’s it, you’ve ruined your life, and how will we manage? You’ll lose your job, and once the street hear about this they’ll stop giving me their washing.’

‘I … I’m sorry.’

Alice pulled out a rickety chair from the table, slumped onto it and buried her face in her hands. She thought she might burst into tears but found that she was too angry to cry. Instead, her head snapped up as she said, ‘Sorry? Huh! What’s the good of saying sorry? No man will want you now … a woman with a child out of wedlock. You’ll have a terrible reputation round here. You’ll be shunned and no doubt I will be too.’

Dorothy turned and fled the room whilst Alice shook her head in disgust at the thought of the child in her daughter’s stomach. Robbie had run off so he wouldn’t be doing the right thing, nor would he be any sort of a father to his baby. What were they going to do? Alice knew she would have to think fast before her daughter began to show any signs of her pregnancy.

Dorothy studied her stomach in the cracked mirror on her dressing table. Could she be pregnant? She reached under her bed and grabbed her diary before frantically flicking through the pages.

In mid-September, she had lost her virginity. She hadn’t had a period in October … and now it was November. Her mother was right, she was pregnant. But they had only made love on the one occasion and it was her first time. Robbie had said that you couldn’t get pregnant the first time …

There were no tears as Dorothy sat on her bed in disbelief. She had never seen her mother look at her like that before, but she could make everything all right if only she could get word to Robbie. If he knew she was going to have his baby, he would come back to marry her, just as he’d promised he would.

It was dark outside at 6.30 that evening and bitterly cold. Adrian had no plans for going anywhere, so he settled down in front of the telly with a whisky mixed with water and a large slice of fruit cake that his neighbour had kindly made for him, though it would inevitably add to his paunchy belly.

There was a knock on the front door. With a sigh, Adrian got up and opened the door, and was surprised to find Dorothy on the step. She was visibly shaking, and it didn’t look like it was due to the cold weather. ‘Dottie, what’s the matter?’

‘Can … can I come in, please?’

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ said Adrian as he pulled the door open wide and ushered Dorothy through to the lounge. ‘Here, take a seat by the fire. Can I get you a drink or anything?’

‘No, thank you. I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s really important I get in touch with Robbie. Have you heard from him?’

Adrian should have known this would have something to do with his brother. ‘No, I haven’t. I don’t know where he is and you’re not the only one looking for the scoundrel.’

‘Who else is looking for him? Is it the police?’

‘No, not that I know of. If Robbie wasn’t seen when he robbed the jeweller’s, the police won’t have him down as a suspect. It seems he’s got away with it, which surprises me considering the gossip.’

‘Gossip isn’t proof and anyway, people round here aren’t grasses,’ Dottie said with a sniff.

‘He’s been lucky then, but he’s still in trouble because the men looking for him aren’t the sort you’d want to pull a Christmas cracker with. It’s just as well he’s out of their reach.’

‘But, Adrian, it’s really important that Robbie knows something … something that’s happened. I have to speak to him.’

‘As I said, I honestly don’t know where he is now, but if he does get in touch, I promise I’ll let you know.’

Dorothy’s bottom lip began to quiver and Adrian could tell that she was about to cry. His heart went out to her and he said soothingly, ‘Don’t get upset. Robbie’s not worth crying over.’

‘But you don’t understand. I … I’m pregnant … and … and Robbie is the father.’

Taken aback, Adrian picked up his glass and downed his whisky. Yet more mess his brother had left behind, and as Robbie had moved on from Myra’s he really had no idea where he was now. But poor Dorothy, this was a terrible situation for her to be in, and as usual he would have to step in to sort out Robbie’s chaos. ‘Here,’ he said, feeling ineffectual as he offered Dorothy a handkerchief.

‘What am I going to do? I can’t be an unmarried mother. My mum is so ashamed of me and how will I support my child without a father?’

‘What has your mother suggested?’

‘Nothing yet, but I won’t give up my baby or go and see any backstreet murderer.’

Adrian could see that Dorothy was verging on hysteria. The girl was right to be worried though. It was going to be very difficult for her to raise a child alone. Then he had a thought.

‘Dottie, this child will be my blood too. I’ll be its uncle and, though Robbie may not be around to help, I am. I can help financially, make sure that you and your family are looked after, so please, calm down and we’ll work this out.’

Dorothy drew in juddering breaths and appeared to settle down a little, but then her tears resumed flowing and her nose started running, ‘I’ll still be labelled as a tart … and … and my child will be born a bastard!’

There wasn’t much Adrian could say to console Dorothy. It was true that she’d be labelled, yet if people knew what his brother was really like they would see that the pregnancy wasn’t this poor girl’s fault. As far as he was concerned, Robbie was the only bastard.