Read With Love From Ma Maguire Online

Authors: Ruth Hamilton

Tags: #Sagas, #Fiction

With Love From Ma Maguire (55 page)

BOOK: With Love From Ma Maguire
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‘Really? Tell that to Mary Watson down in Vernon Street. She’ll be sixty-odd now if she’s still alive. Four fingers she left behind one day and her driven out of her mind when your father’s monkeys poured raw iodine on to the stumps. I can hear that girl’s screams to this day – locked up as a lunatic for a while, she was. And when you’ve seen Mary, go round to all those who were scalped in the carding rooms, to weavers who lost eyes when a shuttle went astray. Tell it to the man who was left dangling with a flying belt around his neck – go to his grave and post him a letter, why don’t you?’ She paused for breath and gazed at him thoughtfully. ‘Do you realize what you’ve taken on in Janet? She’s aware of all that, for I have made sure she knows the true price of cotton!’

He held on grimly to what remained of his patience. ‘Then your indoctrination has failed. She loves the mills.’

Ma smiled in a knowing way, her head nodding pensively. ‘Janet’s an odd girl. The buildings fascinate her and she likes the feel of a length of good cloth. But she’s no fool. That girl will pay her dues to a union just like all the other weavers do. In her bones, Janet is for the workers. She might even help bring you down . . .’

‘Then she’ll bring herself down, because she and her brother stand to inherit whatever I leave.’

Ma’s mouth twisted into a grimace. ‘She doesn’t want it! Am I not getting through to you at all? We’re not part of all that!’

‘I am weary, Ma, sick of sitting here and listening while you prattle on about history that’s almost as ancient as the Greeks! You’re a bitter old woman. And the undeniable fact remains – those are my children—’

‘Children of a crime you committed against their mother!’

‘But still mine! Don’t you see – they’re all I have?’

‘Then take another wife and make more!’

He dropped his head. ‘No. I’ve done enough. My children – my sons – they died because I over-indulged them. Amelia suffered so much . . .’ Unable to sit still with his thoughts, he jumped up and began to pace back and forth between bed and window. ‘The twins are already here, a fact of my life. They’re my responsibility. I am their father, for goodness sake!’

‘You’ve paid your dues over the years. Look, I promised never to bother your family if a future for Molly’s child could be guaranteed. So why do you annoy us now? What about my son who has lived a lifetime believing that all four are his? Can you imagine his state of mind if he finds this out? Will you break us, Charlie, just as your father broke so many? Will you cut out our hearts and lay them in the streets – your own too, for you will surely be judged?’

He ran his fingers through thick brown hair, his head waving slowly from side to side. ‘I don’t know! I’m not like you! I don’t have a list of answers to all the questions in the world. All I know is that those two children are my only link with life after a terrible couple of months.’

‘Aye. And it’s sorry I am for all your trouble, Charles Swainbank, for no mortal deserves what you have suffered. It is enough to push you to the edge of sanity. But please – I beg you – leave my family alone.’

His eyes swam with unshed tears. ‘I can’t. She is so beautiful – I love her already.’

‘And Joey?’

He rubbed his creased forehead. ‘I don’t know him.’

‘Sit down, Charlie, or you’ll have me bit of oilcloth worn out. Come away now, there’s nought to be gained from a flat spin.’

He sank on to the edge of the bed, head in hands, elbows resting on his knees. After a few seconds, Ma came to join him. ‘Where’s your pride, man?’

‘Gone. Buried with them, cold in the grave.’

‘Sweet Jesus! I wish with all me heart that I could help you, son! But I can’t. Not without hurting my own! Charlie, don’t you see the size of the sword you hold over Molly’s head? The girl is terrified.’

‘I didn’t want that. Not for Molly—’

‘No indeed. And what about young Joey – is he worthy of your fortune?’

‘He seems an ordinary enough lad, no harm in him.’

‘No harm? Will I laugh or cry? He’s another bag of mischief, different altogether from Janet, not as clever. She’ll go her own road and shame the divil, but he’s a mixed-up boy with a desperate need for money. Remember your old neighbour – the one who took Samson after your brother died?’

‘Sarah Leason?’

‘The same. He almost killed her, Charlie, went into the house after her money, put the old woman in the hospital where she still lies with a headache the rest of us can almost hear! He left her for dead. I’m not saying he actually struck a blow, but when she fell, he ran off with a box stuffed with every penny she owned. Now. How about that for a Swainbank?’

An expression of shock and disbelief twisted his features. ‘Good God!’

‘Exactly. So, who’s to say how he’ll turn out, eh? As I said before, we’ve brought them up decent, given them good Catholic values, watched to make sure they did right. Yet something came out in that boy, something I didn’t want to tell you about, but—’

‘But you’ll use any weapon to keep me at bay?’

‘Yes. Yes, if I’m to be honest, I suppose I will do just that.’

‘It won’t work, Ma. Whatever he is, it won’t work. Not till I’ve talked to him and made up my own mind. Sorry.’

‘Step back a way, man! Consider the situation properly. These children were not born for you to choose their path in life. No one owns them, not you, not meself, not their mother. No person ever owns another, whatever the relationship. You cannot bend and shape them for your purpose, nor will they ever accept you as a father. My Paddy may not be up to much, but he is loved, particularly by Janet. She will hate you if you lay a claim, Charlie.’

He nodded quickly. ‘Yes, yes I see that. But do you recognize my dilemma?’

‘Indeed. And very clearly too. I am not completely without sympathy, though my loyalty lies elsewhere. And I also see a bargain made many years ago, an agreement I’ve stuck to which you now break by coming here.’

‘I’ve read the papers, Ma. They say nothing about my claim—’

‘And plenty about me having none, I take it?’

His chin dropped again. This was obviously an unfair world, yet he was glad that the law would, in all probability, favour him should the case reach the courts. ‘Yes, that’s about the size of it. You can’t name them as Swainbanks, but I can.’

‘British justice!’ She spat these words. ‘I sold my worthless son – may God forgive me – to give Molly some peace of mind and a safe home. Now she turns on me for doing just that, for bargaining with you! We’ve come to terms, she and I, but sure nothing’s the same as it was. And still you come back for your pound of flesh. Is there no end to it?’

‘I truly am sorry. But I will know my children and they will know me – not necessarily as a father – not yet. But they will know who I am, what I’m made of.’

‘I see. Then you refuse to leave us alone?’

For answer, he nodded just once.

‘Then go.’

He rose slowly from the bed. ‘Ma?’

‘I said go! Go now before I lose me temper and bring in the street! No more words, no more apologies. Just get out.’

He left her sitting there and walked out to the kitchen where Molly, Janet and Michael were eating their evening meal. Unable to meet any eyes, he muttered a hasty goodbye before striding out of the house.

Perkins waited patiently by the car outside Leatherbarrow’s, but Charles hurried past him to where Joey lounged at the corner of Delia Street’s back alley. For a reason he would never be able to explain, Charles placed a hand on the boy’s arm. ‘Take care of your family, Joey. Especially that twin sister of yours.’

Joey cast his black eyes over this man, temper threatening to erupt as he pictured Janet slaving at a loom, probably finishing up bent double like so many worn-out workers in this God-forsaken town. And Joey wasn’t afraid of him, not bloody likely! He might own the house they lived in, might own the mill where Janet worked, but Joey Maguire was a man with his own business, a man with a future. He straightened his long spine and looked Swainbank squarely in the face. ‘I don’t need you to tell me how to carry on! Take your hand off me before I fetch you one across the chops! I’m not right pleased about my sister working in your mill, fetching and carrying for your likes. She had a chance of a good life down the shop, but no, you went and give her the job, eh? Well, she’ll not be stopping long.’

Charles stepped back as the boy’s anger hit him. ‘Why do you dislike me, Joey? No-one asked Janet to apply for work, no-one forced her to accept.’

Joey kicked at the ground moodily, then stopped himself when he remembered the good shoes. ‘What were you doing at our house? Why have you picked our Janet out as special? She’s her head in the clouds because the big boss likes her. Do you fancy taking her on now that your wife’s gone?’

Charles held his tongue with difficulty. The cheek of this young man – and how far from the truth he was! ‘Janet’s a gifted girl,’ he muttered lamely. ‘I’m privileged to have her in the business, but I haven’t picked her out, Joey—’

‘Mr Maguire, if you don’t mind. Aye, happen I have only just left school, but I’m a businessman same as yourself – or will be once Gran signs the shops over when me and Janet are eighteen.’ He paused and took in the man’s stricken expression. ‘There’s summat not quite right about you, Mr Swainbank. I don’t know why you’re messing about round here, only you’re not wanted – I can tell you that for nowt. Me mam doesn’t like you, Gran can’t stand mill owners and I don’t like the way you’ve got your claws in my sister. So why don’t you sling your hook while the going’s good?’

Charles’ patience had reached its limit. After all the abuse from Ma, this was too much. ‘If I had spoken to my father in such a way—’

‘Aye. But you’re not me dad, are you?’

Seconds passed while the man studied this face, this younger version of his own features. ‘I am old enough to be your father, Mr Maguire. And how would it be if I turned your family out of the house because of your lack of respect?’ He hated himself as soon as these words were out, for wasn’t he acting as Ma would have predicted, taking a swing with the weighty hand of a boss?

‘Do what you want! We’ll get a house somewhere.’

This streetwise urchin was playing with him, dangling him like one of those dolls on elastic that were given away as prizes at Bolton Fair. Charles grabbed his son by the collar. ‘Listen here, you little dog,’ he hissed between clenched teeth. ‘Shall I tell you why I’m here? Do you really want to know?’ He swallowed hard. ‘My old neighbour – remember her? Eccentric, rather unclean, a lot of money in the house?’

Joey struggled to free himself, eyes wide with terror.

‘Would you like me to go on, Joey? Shall I tell you what I intend to do if you ever threaten me again?’

‘Leave me . . . alone!’

‘Got away with it, did you? Must have, or you’d have been locked up by now. Didn’t Sarah tell them it was you? I will. I’ll help the police with their enquiries, lad!’

‘Who . . . who told you? Our Janet? Gran? Me mam?’

‘Nobody in the house told me. I just know. I have ways of finding out most things.’ It was easier to lie; nothing would be gained from Joey discovering Ma’s ‘betrayal’. ‘Well? What have you to say for yourself, boy?’

Joey broke free and smoothed the creased jacket. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt her – honest. I just wanted—’

‘Money? How badly do you want money?’

‘Not that badly. Not any more. It was . . . oh, I don’t know—’

‘Tell me, Joey! Come on, I need to know. I have to be sure it won’t happen again. That poor lady lived alongside us for many years and now I shall have to take care of her, protect her from thieves and vagabonds like yourself.’

‘It’s . . . It’s a bit hard to explain, like I don’t know the right words.’

‘Then get into the car while we discuss the matter.’

The boy’s face was livid with fear as he found himself being bundled unceremoniously into the back seat of the large black vehicle.

Perkins, who could sense his master’s ill-temper, knew better than to ask questions. He pulled on his chauffeur’s cap and sat silently behind the wheel as he waited instruction.

‘Home,’ snapped Charles.

The car turned into Delia Street, purring its way past a few inquisitive bystanders. A heavy silence hung over the passengers until Bolton was well behind them, then Charles asked again, ‘Why, Joey?’

‘To get me and Janet away from them.’ His voice was a mere whisper.

‘Speak up! No need to worry about Perkins – his loyalty is beyond question.’

Joey looked fearfully into the big man’s face. ‘I wanted me and our Janet out of the house and in a place of our own.’

‘Why?’

Joey stared out of the window. Why? He could scarcely remember. None of it mattered now, not with the shop and all. Except this bloke here could ruin everything, tell on Joey over Witchie Leason . . .

‘Well?’ persisted Charles.

The boy shrugged his shoulders. ‘You’ve seen it. Oh, it’s all right now, better than it used to be – but the place was a dump. I’d look at me mother, see how weary she was and I’d think to meself, “I don’t want that for Janet.” Me gran got ill ’cos she’d worked all her life and got wore out. Then there’s me dad – he’s about as much use as a cushion stuffed with bricks. It was a lot of things all piled up. Little things on their own, but big when they were all stuck together. It got me down, specially the way our Janet just . . . well . . .’

‘Accepted it?’

‘Aye.’ He nodded with a wisdom far older than his years. ‘See, we’re different, me and her, not like the others.’

Charles rubbed a hand across his mouth. ‘Different?’

‘Twins, like. And I wanted to turn her into a lady, something a bit out of the ordinary, one as didn’t have to stone the steps or do her own black-leading.’

‘So. You stole and committed near-murder to get your way?’

‘The road as Witchie . . . Miss Leason got hurt – it were an accident. It happened that quick I can hardly remember. But I didn’t hit her. She came for me and fell when I grabbed that big whip—’

‘She took a whip to you? The size of her? Yes, I suppose she would. That sounds very much in character. Still, it’s no way to get rich, is it? How would you like it if someone broke into your house and took everything?’

BOOK: With Love From Ma Maguire
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