A Daughter’s Sorrow

‘I thought you said you loved Hans?’

‘I do … in a way,’ she said and there was guilt in her eyes. ‘But … this other person … well, he treats me as if I were special.’

‘Hans wants to marry you,’ I reminded her.

‘I shall marry him when he comes back,’ she said, sounding cross. ‘I’m just having a little fun, Bridget. Besides, what has it got to do with you? You’re not my keeper. You’re nearly as bad as Mam.’

‘If that’s the way you feel I might as well go …’ I got up to leave but she caught at my hand.

‘Ah no,’ she said, giving me a shamefaced look. ‘Don’t go, me darlin’. I don’t want to quarrel with you.’

‘No, we shan’t quarrel over it,’ I said and sat down again. ‘But be careful, Lainie. You’ve always told me that Hans was a good man. Don’t throw his love away for a necklace.’

She smiled and tucked the cross inside her dress and I knew she wasn’t listening. ‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘I shall probably never see the other one again …’ She frowned as she heard Tommy coughing. ‘He doesn’t seem to get any better.’

‘Maggie said her Billy saw him coughing up blood in the playground.’

‘Oh, Bridget! You’d better take him to the doctor. Here –’ she felt in her pocket and brought out three florins – ‘this should cover a visit, but send word if you need more and I’ll get some for you.’

‘Are you sure? Will it leave you short?’

‘I can manage. Tommy is the important one. You take him to the doctor, but don’t let Mam take that money off you. She’ll only spend it on the drink.’

‘I know …’ I sighed. ‘Every morning she says she’s got the headache. She doesn’t get out of bed until I go to work and she hardly lifts a finger in the house.’

‘You mean she lets you do everything? She’s a lazy slut, Bridget. It would serve her right if you upped and left her.’

‘I sometimes wish I could walk out like you did,’ I said. ‘But there’s no sense in wishing for the moon. Tommy and me couldn’t manage on our own – not until I’m earning more.’

Lainie nodded, a brief flash of guilt passing across her face. ‘I know what I promised, Bridget, and as soon as Hans comes I’ll talk to him. I can’t understand why he hasn’t come before this. He’s usually only gone for two to three weeks.’

‘Perhaps the ship was delayed.’

‘Yes, that’s probably it. They’ve had to wait for a cargo.’

‘What about this other feller – you aren’t serious about him?’

‘O’ course not, darlin’. He was just passin’ the time o’ day, and he gave me a cross because I happened to say I’d always wanted a nice one. He’s a nice man, Bridget, and always polite. It made me think about another kind of life, away from the docks and all this, but I’ll settle for Hans. Don’t you worry …’

Lainie had told me not to worry about her, but I’d seen the sparkle in her eyes when she’d shown me the gold cross and chain, and I knew she was more taken with this other man than she would admit. I hoped she wouldn’t be foolish over him – whoever he was – and not just because Lainie was my only hope of getting away from Mam.

I fingered the three florins in my pocket, thinking about where best to hide them. If Mam found them she wouldn’t hesitate to take them for herself and I needed them for Tommy.

‘And how are you this afternoon, Bridget?’

I was startled by the question, and turned round to see Fred Pearce just behind me. For once he wasn’t trundling his old cart, which was why I hadn’t been aware of his approach. Fred was usually to be seen collecting what other people left as rubbish in the streets, old bottles that he took back to the brewery for a few pence a load and other things he discovered on rubbish tips. The kids laughed and threw horse dung at him when they saw him, and most people turned the other way when he spoke to them, thinking him a dirty old tramp, but I had always found Fred pleasant to talk to. Sometimes he looked sad when we met, but he usually brightened up once we’d had a chat.

‘I’m all right, thank you,’ I said. ‘How are you, Mr Pearce?’

‘Well enough,’ he said and frowned as Tommy started coughing. ‘That’s a nasty cough, lad.’ He felt in his pocket and came out with two pennies, which he handed to Tommy. ‘Get yourself some sweets …’

‘Thanks, Mr Pearce …’

Tommy ran off towards the shop at the corner of our lane and I looked at the old man. ‘That was kind of you,’ I said, knowing that he worked hard for the coppers he earned from the brewery and the rag and bone yard. ‘He’s been coughing for a while now. I’m going to take him to the doctor this week, but he doesn’t know yet. He won’t like it much.’

‘You take him just the same,’ Fred said. ‘I don’t like the sound of that cough. You look after him, Bridget … before it’s too late.’

‘Yes, I will,’ I said and watched as he shuffled off down the lane.

Fred Pearce was a mystery. No one seemed to know much about him, except that he lived in a detached house right at the end of our lane. He seldom opened the door to anyone, but Maude Brown, who lived opposite, said it was like a junkyard inside. I had sometimes wondered how he managed alone, but he was fiercely independent and would never accept help from anyone, preferring to keep himself to himself.

I remembered that the man who had come to my rescue the night I was attacked by Harry Wright had said he was visiting Fred Pearce … and that was odd in itself. I hadn’t thought Fred encouraged visitors and Joe Robinson hadn’t been from around here. At least, I hadn’t seen him before or since that night, so I supposed he had come from away somewhere.

My mind returned to my own worries. I didn’t know what to do about Mam’s deterioration, which I believed was to do with her drinking, and now I had Tommy to think about – and that was much worse.

‘And where would you be getting money for doctor’s visits?’ Mam lunged at me, trying to grab me, but I dodged back, avoiding her and the blow I knew was coming. ‘If you’ve been down the docks with a man I’ll flay the skin off your back!’

‘Don’t be daft, Mam. I told Lainie Tommy was coughing up blood and she gave me some money.’

‘And we all know where that little tramp gets her money. She’s a slut and a whore,’ Mam said and grunted as she flopped down in her chair by the stove, clearly out of breath. She rubbed at her chest as though it hurt. ‘She’ll come to a bad end, your sister.’

‘Lainie earns her money working for Mrs Macpherson. Why do you say those things about her?’

‘I thought she was getting married? What’s happened to that feller she was after marryin’?’

‘Hans is still away. It’s a longer voyage this time. He’ll marry her when he gets home.’

‘That remains to be seen.’ Mam rubbed at her chest. ‘So what did the doctor say then?’

‘I’ve got to take Tommy back next week.’

‘And what’s that going to cost? I’ve trouble enough making ends meet as it is without paying for doctors.’

‘Lainie said she’ll give me the money.’ Mam rubbed at her chest again. ‘What’s wrong, Mam? Have you got a pain in your chest?’

‘It’s all the worry of you and your brother,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve warned you, Bridget O’Rourke, you’ll be the death of me yet. What if your brother turns out to have the consumption? Have you thought about that? They’ll likely want to send him away – where will Lainie get the money for that? You should’ve left things as they were. Tommy will get over it—’

‘Or he’ll just get worse and die. Is that what you’re thinking, Mam?’ I noticed the fine red lines about her nose and a certain puffiness in her face. She was changing fast and it had to be the drinking that was dragging her down. ‘Well, I’m not going to let that happen without a fight. I care about him even if you don’t.’

‘You little bitch!’ She clawed up out of her chair suddenly and launched herself at me in a fury. Taken by surprise, I didn’t move fast enough and she punched me hard in the face, splitting my lip and sending me crashing back against the stove. I knocked my arm on the kettle and felt the sting of hot water as it spilled on to my hand. ‘I’ll teach you to criticize me …’

‘Stop it, Mrs O’Rourke!’ The shocked voice from the doorway halted her as she was about to launch herself at me again. ‘That is enough! Can’t you see Bridget is hurt?’

‘It was her own fault,’ Mam muttered and slumped down in her chair again. ‘Ah, but she’s a hard girl that daughter of mine, Mr Phillips. You don’t know how she talks to her poor old mother.’ Tears of self-pity were filling her eyes. ‘She’s no feelings for me at all.’

Mr Phillips shot her a look of disgust. ‘Was that water boiling, Bridget?’ he asked. ‘Let me look at it for you.’

‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘It was just the shock. I’ll put some cold water on it.’