An Unbreakable Bond

  An Unbreakable Bond

  Mary Wood

  PAN BOOKS

  I dedicate this book to my darling husband, Roy, and our children, Christine Martin, Julie Bowling, Rachel Gradwell and James Wood. You made so many sacrifices to help me achieve my dream. Above all, you believed in me and held my hand through the journey. I wouldn’t have made it without you. This, one of the first books I ever wrote, and the first I self-published and am now seeing traditionally published, is the product of the love, devotion, patience and encouragement you all showed me. I thank you all and love you all to the end of the world.

  Contents

  PART ONE: Innocence Lost 1913

  1: One Door of Life Closes

  2: A Clash of Classes

  3: Rules Mean Nothing to Cissy

  4: Hattie’s Fears Come True

  5: A Misdemeanour is Rewarded

  6: A Misunderstanding Turns to Passion

  7: A Lonely Path is Taken

  8: The Sorrow of the Divide

  PART TWO: The Letting Go 1918

  9: A Shocking Discovery

  10: Laura’s Loss

  11: Hattie Pays the Price

  12: Megan Enters Hattie’s World

  13: The Devil’s Work is Done

  14: The Nightmare Returns

  15: Broken Lives and Uncertain Futures

  16: Love Strikes

  PART THREE: Choices Lost 1920

  17: A Proposal of Sorts

  18: Unwelcome Feelings

  19: Megan’s Choice

  20: A Change in Fortunes

  21: No Going Back

  22: Reality Sets a Path

  PART FOUR: The Parting 1927

  23: A Moment of Joy – a Future of Apprehension

  24: The Loss of the Past Comes Home

  25: Seeking a Release

  26: An Anguished Goodbye

  27: A Difficult Choice

  28: The Wrath of Not Toeing the Line

  29: A Decision for Change

  30: A Path to the Future

  PART FIVE: ‘The Affair’ 1930

  31: Megan’s Joy – Hattie’s Heartache

  32: Jack’s Dilemmas

  33: Jack Succumbs

  34: Hattie’s Second Chance

  35: The Pity of It All

  36: The Breaking Out of Evil

  37: For the Sins of the Flesh

  PART SIX: The Consequences 1930

  38: A Future Hope Cut Deep with Sorrow

  39: The Beginning of a Plan Is Put into Action

  40: The Clarity of Jack’s Love Brings Heartbreak

  41: Where Are We Going, Hattie and Megan?

  42: A Fragile Canopy of Lace

  43: Adding the Final Link

  44: Fatal Revenge

  PART SEVEN: The Coping 1930

  45: Taking the Blame

  46: Coming to Terms

  47: A Reunion Marred by Revelation

  48: The Truth Will Out

  EPILOGUE: Finding Peace 1933

  49: Reopened Wounds Bring Healing

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgements

  PART ONE

  Innocence Lost

  1913

  1

  One Door of Life Closes

  Megan and Hattie’s footsteps echoed as they walked down the draughty, stone-walled corridor towards the Reverend Mother’s office. Within feet of it, Megan paused and motioned Hattie towards the internal window. Using this as a mirror, they checked their appearances, making sure their grey serge frocks were crease-free and their stiff white collars immaculate.

  With shaking hands Megan tried to tuck the stray, unruly locks of her auburn hair under her mobcap. As soon as she tamed one curl, another escaped. Hattie giggled at her attempts. Megan made a face at her. ‘It’s all right for you.’ Hattie’s smooth dark hair always looked neat, for next to no effort. Giving up the battle, Megan knocked on the door.

  ‘Enter!’

  Reverend Mother’s tone cracked Megan’s already frayed nerves. Hattie squeezed her hand.

  The moment she placed her foot on the carpet and smelt the wax polish, the small comfort of Hattie’s gesture dissolved. The stark contrast to the cold flagstone floors, and the stench of carbolic soap and boiled cabbage of the quarters they shared with other born-of-sin and orphaned children, increased her sense of foreboding.

  As they waited to be acknowledged, Megan’s eyes fixed on the butterfly wings of stiff white linen cascading from each side of the Reverend Mother’s bent head. The sudden lifting of the head made her jump. She tugged Hattie’s frock, bringing her attention back from looking around the room in awe.

  ‘Well, Megan Tattler and Hattie Frampton, you are now thirteen years of age and you are to leave us. And I don’t have to ask to know how pleased you both are, do I?’

  Neither of them answered, but Megan thought that if she were to, it wouldn’t be to say she was pleased. Not altogether pleased, as both she and Hattie were deeply saddened at the thought of being separated.

  ‘Hattie, you go later today, I understand – and, Megan, you are to leave tomorrow.’ The Reverend Mother’s eyes, shrouded by a brow that was squashed into a bulge by her veil, darted between them. A pinched smile crossed her face as she continued, ‘Now, Hattie, I see you have a very fitting placement as a scullery maid in the household of Lord Marley’s country residence. Very good! Are you prepared?’

  ‘Yes, Reverend Mother, but . . .’

  ‘No “buts”, Hattie. Lord Marley is one of our benefactors and has given many of our girls a good start in life by providing them with jobs. It’s up to you to make something of yourself.’

  ‘Yes, Reverend Mother.’

  ‘Good! So, Megan, it seems to me you think you can take up a placement far above your station. It is unheard of – someone of such low status becoming an apprenticed seamstress!’

  The insult, and the look that went with it, froze Megan’s hopes.

  ‘However, Sister Bernadette has been very persistent on your behalf. And, although aware of the sinful circumstances of your birth, Madame Marie is still inclined to give you a chance. I have therefore had to give the proposal due consideration, and I am persuaded to approve it, after seeing what Madame has written in her letter to me. She states that she is taking you on merit, because you show exceptional talent in the drawings and the sample of stitches shown to her by Sister Bernadette. But she makes it clear that you will be expected to know your place, and to keep it at all times. You are not to try to engage with any of the young ladies who are training there and you will have a room in the attic away from the others. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, Reverend Mother.’

  ‘I hope you do.’

  Megan struggled to hold down the joy surging through her. She stood still, head held high as was befitting and polite. She knew that Reverend Mother, aggrieved at having allowed her to take up the apprenticeship, would take it away from her if she gave her any excuse to do so.

  The wings of the Reverend Mother’s veil crackled as she inclined her head. ‘You are dismissed. But remember, what you make of yourselves is up to you. If you work hard and stay true to the teaching you have received here, you will prosper.’ The pinched smile had reached her eyes as she continued, ‘If you don’t, then the gutter is where you will find yourselves, as many have before you.’

  They turned to leave. The woman whose care they had been under since birth did not even say goodbye. Megan didn’t want her to, and she knew Hattie would be feeling the same. She turned as she reached the door, but only the top of the stiff veil remained visible. Megan felt sure that she and Hattie had never really mattered to the Reverend Mother. She closed the door, glad to be free of the tense atmosphere. Now she could give
release to her feelings. But before she had time to, Hattie’s words dulled her joy. ‘Will we ever see each other again, Meg?’

  ‘Aye, we will. We’ll make sure of it. We’ll write regular. As soon as we get our first wage we can get paper and stamps . . .’

  ‘I’m not for working in service, Meg. I’ll be off from there just as soon as I can.’

  ‘Eeh, Hattie, why?’

  ‘Cos I’m scared of ending up like Daisy.’

  ‘Daisy? I didn’t know as she’d been in touch. Don’t she like her placement?’

  ‘I saw her the day I had to go into Leeds to have me tooth pulled. Sister Bernadette made me wait outside a shop. I wandered up the street and bumped into Daisy, and she told me she’d left her placement.’

  ‘You didn’t say . . .’

  ‘I know. I couldn’t think how, cos of what I found out, and you had worries enough over what would be happening to you. Anyroad, Daisy’s working the streets. She hadn’t eaten for two days, so I gave her the cab fare Sister’d pinned to me coat in case we got separated. I told Sister it must have come unfastened.’

  ‘Oh, Hattie, is that the gutter as the Reverend Mother spoke of? This “working the streets”?’

  ‘Aye, I reckon it is, by the looks of Daisy. But she said things’ll get better for her. She’s been accepted on the patch, and has a couple of customers of her own.’

  ‘But what is it she has to do? Is it cleaning or sommat?’

  ‘Oh, Meg! You daft ha’p’orth!’ Hattie’s giggling had Megan doubled over, as it always did, but she couldn’t help feeling Hattie was privy to something she didn’t know about.

  ‘They sell themselves. Thou knows? To men. They let men do things to them. Things as men do to make you have babbies. Only they don’t keep having babbies, cos they have ways to stop that happening.’

  ‘How do you know of such things, Hattie?’

  ‘Daisy told me everything as a sort of warning, cos she knew as I’d likely end up in service. She wanted me to watch out for meself. She told me her master forced her to do it with him, so she had to run away. She made her way to Leeds and looked for a job, but no one would take her on without a reference. She met this girl who tried to help her, but in the end all the girl could do was take her to the house where she lived. Daisy said she had no choice after that. There’s this bloke who owns the house and he made her work the streets or she’d be for it.’

  ‘Oh, Hattie!’

  ‘I know. It’s why I’m scared, Meg. The girl said it happens a lot. She said as some top-drawer folk seem to think they have a right to do it, and him as did it to Daisy is known for it.’

  ‘Eeh, no. What will you do?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort sommat. I’ll work hard until Christmas and give them no reason not to give me a reference, and then I’ll make up a story about having to leave. I don’t know what yet.’

  ‘But you might settle. It might be as your master is a good ’un. But if he isn’t, you’ll come to me, won’t you? I’ll help you, Hattie. I’ll have me first wage an’ all by then and I’ll give it to you.’

  ‘Ta, Megan. Eeh, I’m going to miss you.’

  A silence fell. Hattie’s hand felt warm and clammy inside her own and the fear Hattie felt had now entered Megan, but she had no idea what to do. A thought came to her, something that had bothered her for a while. ‘Thou knows, Hattie? I don’t even know how . . . well, how babbies happen. I’ve been thinking about it since we started our bleeding and Sister Bernadette sent us to Mrs Hartley.’

  ‘Aye, I know. I were the same. It were with Mrs Hartley saying we had to watch ourselves and not let boys have their way with us, or we’d end up pregnant. It set me thinking on it. But I know now. I could tell you, if you like?’

  Megan said nothing, wanting to know, but not wanting to say so.

  ‘Well, Daisy told me the man . . .’

  A tickly sensation in her private part – as Sister Bernadette called the part of them she never allowed them to expose – shocked and embarrassed Megan as she listened to Hattie. And all she could think to say was, ‘Does it hurt?’

  ‘Daisy said it did the first time, but it isn’t bad after that.’

  ‘I suppose it can’t be, cos women keep having babbies, don’t they? Anyroad, happen as poor Daisy were unlucky in the placement they sent her to. Where was it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I were that shocked over what she told me, I forgot to ask her. Still, I shouldn’t be going on. Your placement doesn’t sound that good, either – not with that Madame woman thinking of you as she does.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be reet. It’ll be worth it. Just think: I’ll be learning to make frocks and gowns! And maybe sommat’ll come of me drawings. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, eh? To see me drawings being made up, out of satins and such-like . . .’

  ‘Ah, Megan and Hattie, here you are!’

  Megan held her breath. Being caught in idle chit-chat was one of the deadliest sins. She hadn’t heard the chinking of keys or the dull jangle of huge wooden rosary beads – the sounds that warned of an approaching nun. Peering into the dim corridor, she saw the outline of a plump figure, hazed by a flowing cream habit, coming towards them.

  ‘Eeh, Sister Bernadette, it’s you! You gave us a fright.’

  ‘I expect I did, Hattie.’ The twinkle in Sister Bernadette’s eyes belied the strict retort. ‘I have been looking for you both this good while. Tell me, my wee ones, is it your placements Reverend Mother has been confirming with you? And is it that you are happy now that you know for sure where it is you’re going?’

  Megan and Hattie nodded, but the sense of dread that had come over Megan on hearing of Daisy’s plight and Hattie’s fears deepened. Sister Bernadette was the only person they could share their worries with, but she couldn’t talk to her about this. Not with her being a nun, she couldn’t.

  ‘And you, Megan? Is it pleased you are at knowing at last that you can go to Madame Marie’s?’

  ‘Oh yes, Sister. I can’t believe it! Ta ever so much.’

  ‘’Tis the good Lord you have to be thanking for giving you such a talent, Megan. Not that He missed out on giving you something when He was at the making of you either, Hattie dear. You have many virtues: your kind ways and a willingness to help others, amongst many others. You will do well, too. I’m sure of it.’

  Tears rolled down Hattie’s cheeks as she nodded her head, and Megan felt her own eyes fill up at the sight.

  Sister Bernadette patted Hattie on the shoulder as she continued, ‘The house you are going to, Hattie, is beautiful, so it is. Lord Marley’s country residence is on the outskirts of Leeds on the road to Sheffield. And Megan, Madame Marie’s is in the centre of Leeds itself and her salons are wonderful.’

  Even the new experience of riding the motor-bus to and from the station didn’t lift Megan’s spirits. The suffocating nearness of the strangers travelling with them, the rumbling and vibrating of the engine and the discomfort of the jolting over cobbled roads interrupted her reveries.

  Sister Bernadette held her hand throughout the return journey, but didn’t speak. Megan didn’t want her to. Never had she felt so miserable. She’d known the parting with Hattie wasn’t going to be easy, but she hadn’t thought she’d feel such a sense of utter desolation, or that her heart would feel so sore.

  The pebbles crunched under her feet as they walked across the courtyard of the convent, and a funny feeling overcame her when the huge wooden doors of the entrance came into view. It was like a fear mixed with excitement was churning in her belly as she thought of how tomorrow, she’d walk through those doors for the last time and leave everything she knew behind. As if sensing something in her, Sister Bernadette squeezed her hand. ‘Megan, dear, ’tis as this day had to come, and I have a lot of pain in me because of it, but I have learned over the years to accept life as it is. Not all that it gives you is fair, and not all that is fair is good. You will come to know this and, when you do, I hope you understand. Now, w
ee one, I have things to tell you of, so I have, and ’tis as I have something to give you that belonged to your dear mammy.’

  Sister Bernadette’s words, spoken in her lovely Irish lilt, caused a sudden shock to jolt through Megan’s body. Her mam had never been spoken of before. Questions had always been silenced. All she knew of her own birth was that it had taken place in St Michael’s, a convent for sinful and unmarried pregnant girls.

  Once they were inside the convent doors, Sister Bernadette took Megan to her room. ‘Sit yourself down, wee one, whilst I am getting for you what I know will be very special to you.’

  No thick carpet hushed Sister Bernadette’s footsteps or dulled the sound of her keys jangling against her hip as she crossed the room to her desk. Megan sat on the cane chair next to the brass bed; these two items and the desk were all the sparsely furnished room held. Square and with only one small window, it had a flagstone floor that resembled the one in the children’s quarters, except that these flagstones shone as if painted with lacquer.

  The tension that had been set up in her by knowing she was to hear about her mam made her fidgety. Her body felt hot and sticky with sweat. She watched Sister Bernadette sort through her keys and insert one into a drawer, before putting her hand inside. A panel to the side of the desk shot open, making Megan jump. Sister Bernadette pulled something from the opening and said, ‘Megan, what I have here is a locket. Inside is a picture of your granny and granddaddy.’ She paused and made the sign of the cross. ‘To be sure, ’tis sorry I am to have to tell you, wee one, but,’ she crossed herself again and looked heavenwards, ‘’tis as your poor mammy died just after giving you life. I helped at the birth of you, so I did.’

  The pain Megan had held in her chest since saying goodbye to Hattie swelled up into her throat and threatened to strangle the life from her. ‘She – she can’t be dead. I have to find her. She . . .’

  She had been about to say that her mam had been the daughter of rich parents who’d turned her out of the family home and wouldn’t allow her back, unless she gave her babby away. That had been the make-believe she’d lived her whole life by, along with Hattie, who’d always imagined that her mam had been a princess shipped away in disgrace, leaving her ‘sin’ behind.