Sins of the Father
Emma’s eyes were wide, her mind reeling. ‘But…but I’m working for Mr Bell to pay off the arrears. Why would he chuck us out?’
‘’Cos I ain’t been paying the rent and the few bob he takes out of your wage is just a drop in the ocean.’
‘You haven’t paid! But why?’
‘I got laid off again.’
Emma gawked at her father. He’d been taking her wages, and Dick’s, but instead of keeping up with the rent, he’d been pouring drink down his throat. Frantic, she cried, ‘But, Dad, you can get another job. In the meantime I’ll work for nothing and Mr Bell can keep all of my wages.’
‘I suggested that, but he won’t stand for it. We owe too much. The only way out is for you to marry the man. When you do, he said he’ll wipe out the arrears, and not only that,’ he added eagerly, ‘we can have this place rent free.’
‘And if I refuse, he’ll chuck us out? My God, it sounds like blackmail!’
Her father’s tone changed, his voice becoming soft and persuasive. ‘It ain’t like that, Em. The man wants you, and as he said, he can hardly take money from me once you’re his wife.’
‘I don’t care what he said! I won’t marry him and you can’t force me.’
‘Who said anything about forcing you? Think about it, Em. You’d be living in that big house that you’re so fond of, and us lot would never have to worry about eviction again.’
Emma’s stomach was churning. She may have fantasised about living in Mr Bell’s lovely house, of being rich, but she’d never dreamed of being his wife. Her eyes burned as she faced her father.
‘It isn’t my fault that we’re facing eviction, it’s yours. You’ve got us in this fix, and I’m supposed to marry an old man to get you out of it. What did you do, Dad?’ she taunted. ‘Did you offer me for sale to the highest bidder?’
Red faced and sounding indignant, Tom stammered, ‘Of course I didn’t, you silly cow! The man approached me. Anyway, I don’t know what you’re so upset about. All right, he may be a bit older than you, but he’s rich, and instead of jumping at the chance of a lifetime, you’re acting as though I’m sending you to the gallows.’
‘You might as well be. I’d rather be dead than marry him!’
‘Christ, your mother would turn in her grave if she knew what a selfish bitch you’ve turned into. You haven’t given a thought to the kids. Let me tell you, we’ll be out on the streets if you turn the man down.’
Emma’s throat tightened, constricted with emotion. Her mouth opened in protest, but no words came. She turned on her heels, fleeing the room, taking the stairs two at a time and dashing out onto the street. She wasn’t being selfish–she wasn’t, it was just that the thought of being Mr Bell’s wife made her blood run cold. She flung open the street door, running without thought of where she was going until, out of breath, she bent double, gasping for air.
When her breathing steadied, Emma began to walk, her mind twisting and turning, going over and over the same things. How could her father say she was selfish? She was working for Mr Bell to pay off the arrears. Surely that was enough? But no, her father hadn’t been paying the rent again, the money going over the bar at the King’s Arms instead. It was he who was selfish, not her–his fault that they were going to be chucked out.
Emma continued to walk, her eyes fixed ahead yet seeing nothing around her, her thoughts always coming back to the knowledge that if she didn’t marry Mr Bell, they’d be evicted. Yet she couldn’t do it, she just couldn’t! She’d have to sleep with the man, share his bed! There had to be another way. Maybe they could borrow money from somewhere? Who could she ask? Alice Moon, yes maybe Alice could help them.
With a little hope in her heart now, Emma turned for home, where she knocked on Alice’s door.
‘Hello, love. I’m afraid the boys aren’t here. Cyril’s taken them to the park.’
‘Can I talk to you, Alice?’
‘Of course you can. By the look on your face I can see something’s wrong. Come on in.’
Alice led her through to the sitting room and indicated that she should sit down.
After refusing a cup of tea, Emma blurted it all out, ending with, ‘So you see, if we pay the rent, I won’t have to marry Mr Bell. I…I was wondering if you could lend it to us. I’ll pay you back, honest I will.’
‘Oh, love, I wish I could help, but I’m skint. You see, I went a bit mad buying for the kids, and it’s cleaned me out. You could try a money lender, but they charge a mint in interest and if you miss a payment they get nasty. Jack Marsh, who lives round the corner, got every finger in his hand broken, and when he still couldn’t pay, the loan shark broke his leg. It ain’t worth the risk, love. I’ve heard of other people who’ve been paying off loans for years, and with the exorbitant interest rates they never get close to clearing the debt.’
‘It’s my only hope, Alice.’
‘Think about it, Emma. Your father isn’t paying the rent, and even if he gets a loan to pay off the arrears, they’ll soon mount up again. Then it’s another loan, and another…’
Emma hung her head. Alice was right, and her last hope was dashed.
When Alice spoke again, her voice was gentle. ‘I know you think Mr Bell is old, but he isn’t, not really. If you marry him you’d want for nothing. You’d have that fine house and you’d be out of this dump.’
‘Alice, you’re pointing out the same things as my father, but I can’t marry Mr Bell. I’d…I’d have to sleep with him, in his bed, and the thought of that makes me feel sick.’
‘It ain’t so bad, love, and if Mr Bell is anything like my Cyril, it’s soon over.’
Emma’s face flamed. Sex had been a taboo subject with her mother, and though she’d heard the goings-on often enough, she had no idea what actually happened. ‘Does…does it hurt, Alice?’
‘The first time can be a little painful, but after that, it’s fine. In fact, it can be very enjoyable.’
The colour in Emma’s face deepened and she lowered her eyes. There were so many questions, so much she wanted to ask Alice, but was too embarrassed. ‘I still don’t think I can marry the man. I…I don’t love him.’
‘Do you like him?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose so, but I hardly know him.’
‘Liking someone is a good enough start.’ Leaning forward, she patted Emma’s knee. ‘There ain’t many girls who get a chance to marry well and get away from these stinking streets. If you ask me, you should grab the chance.’
Emma shook her head against the advice as she rose to her feet. ‘I’d best get back, Alice.’
‘All right, love, but think about what I’ve said. Think very carefully.’
Slowly Emma climbed upstairs, her shoulders bent. She went into the attic room, tensing as her father jumped to his feet, his voice frantic.
‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’
‘For a walk.’
‘And have you changed your mind?’
‘No.’
‘Please, Emma, see sense. Mr Bell will be here soon for his answer.’
‘I don’t care. I won’t marry him.’
‘Emma, for God’s sake! Think what your mother would say. Surely she’d have encouraged you to get out of this dump–to have a better life.’
Emma looked at her father with disgust. He was using emotional blackmail again and, sickened, she slumped onto a stool. But his words had touched her, her thoughts turning to her mother. Oh, Mum, what should I do?
She looked around the room, at the damp, peeling wallpaper, and tears filled her eyes. For the last few years of her life, all her mother had known was this hovel, her life one of drudgery, giving birth to one child after another with barely enough money to feed them all. Why? Why did she put up with it? Though she wanted to deny it, Emma knew the answer: love. Her parents had known each other since childhood, falling in love whilst still at school. Huh, and look where love had got Mum. A life of grinding poverty and an early grave.
‘Think of us, girl. If you don’t marry Mr Bell, we’ll be out on our ears.’ As her father said these words there was a knock on the door. ‘Bugger, he’s here. For the love of God, Emma, don’t turn him down.’
Emma’s eyes darkened with hate as she glared at her father. ‘It’s you who should have thought of the kids.’ There was another knock, louder this time, and she sighed heavily before saying, ‘You’d better let him in.’
‘Hello, Tom…Emma,’ Horace Bell said as he stepped into the room.
She lowered her head, only returning his greeting with a murmur. Within seconds the door opened again, Dick coming home from his stint on the Sunday market. His eyes flicked to Mr Bell and, sensing the charged atmosphere, he asked, ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s none of your business,’ Tom snapped. ‘We need to talk in private, so get lost for a while.’
Dick ignored his father, instead addressing Mr Bell. ‘Are you here about the rent? Don’t tell me it hasn’t been paid again?’
Horace Bell just raised an eyebrow.
Dick persisted, ‘If you want to talk to my father in private, how come Emma’s here?’
‘Because what we have to discuss concerns Emma.’
‘Oh, yeah? In what way?’
Emma looked at her brother, seeing the lines of fatigue etched on his face. Poor Dick, up at the crack of dawn, working seven days a week, and passing most of his earnings over to their father. Yet despite that, the rent still hadn’t been paid. Even if they were all out working, nothing would change and, as Alice had said, if they borrowed money, they’d never have the means to pay it back. She looked at her father, wondering how her mother could have loved this man.
Her eyes flicked to Mr Bell and in that instant Emma came to a decision. She didn’t love him, could never love him, but she did like him. If she married the man, at least she’d be away from her father, and if Mr Bell was as well off as he appeared, she’d be able to do more for her brothers and sisters. She’d be able to buy them clothes, food…But she was then struck by another thought. Without her, who’d look after them? Their father didn’t give a damn, only wanting them out of his sight. Dick was at work, and though Luke was as good as gold, he wasn’t capable of cooking, or doing the washing and ironing.
Emma chewed worriedly on her lower lip, hardly listening as Dick continued to quiz their father without success. At last her eyes met Mr Bell’s and he smiled kindly. It was then that a light seemed to switch on in her mind, illuminating the obvious. What was she worrying about? Mr Bell’s house was huge, with enough room for all of them! She doubted her father would object if she moved them all in, and as far as she was concerned he could stay in the flat and stew in his own juices.
With a smile, Emma rose to her feet, moving to touch Dick on the arm. ‘It’s all right, love. Mr Bell just needs to have a few words with me but it’s nothing to worry about. Pop out for five minutes and I’ll tell you all about it when you come back.’
‘Are you sure, sis?’
‘Yes, I’m sure.’
Emma waited until Dick had reluctantly left the room. Then, her tone abrupt she said, ‘All right, Mr Bell, I’ll marry you.’
Chapter Nine
Horace Bell was elated. When Emma’s eldest brother had returned, there’d been some resistance from him, a heated argument before the young man stormed out again, but now the room was calm. He could see that Emma was upset, and glancing at Tom Chambers, he saw the man’s face was still dark with fury. He had thought at one point that Tom was going to strike his son, but Emma had intervened, telling Dick firmly that she’d made up her mind and wouldn’t change it.
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.
Chapter Ten
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.