‘I don’t know,’ she mumbled. ‘The unknown! That has always been my greatest fear.’ She recalled so clearly her shock when her agent had said he had nothing to offer her for the near future, and suggested she took a break and came back to him in May, when he’d try to book her for a summer show; and her panic as she wondered how they would survive until then. She had watched her son down on the edge of the Thames play-fighting with the young London mudlarks and realized that although he could mix with adults he enjoyed the company of other children and she had to do something to change their lives.
‘I don’t generally offer advice, Delia,’ Giles said softly, ‘for I’m not in a position to do so, considering my own situation, but I think you’ll have to visit this family who are looking after your son. You must acknowledge your circumstances, and’ – he hesitated – ‘face up to the man who put you in this situation.’
Delia swallowed hard. He was right; but she was afraid. Afraid of being turned away; she knew how that felt, but if she was turned away again her position would be even worse than it had been ten years ago; this time she would have not an unborn child but a young intelligent son who would be asking questions. And as for facing up to Jack Robinson – well, he might deny every word of her accusation.
‘I have no proof that he’s the father,’ she faltered. ‘How can a woman confirm who is the father of her children?’
He steered her towards the lodging house; she was malleable beneath his touch, as if unable to move of her own accord. ‘She cannot,’ he answered ironically, ‘and yet she can claim, as indeed I’m sure my own wife will assert, if what I believe is true, that the child she carries is mine and not another’s; and although I can dispute it, there is no proof.’
He opened the door and ushered her inside. ‘Go into the sitting room,’ he said, pushing her gently in that direction. ‘I have a small bottle of brandy upstairs and I think you’re in need—’
‘Oh, but I’m not,’ she began, but he waved her protests away and opened the door to the sitting room, which was still warm from the now extinguished fire.
‘Sit,’ he ordered. ‘I won’t be more than five minutes.’
Delia sat as instructed. She seemed unable to help or think for herself; what on earth was the matter with her? How had everything become so impossible when she had such a short time and previously thought that there might be a solution? It had been Jenny, she decided. Jenny, who had always been so sure of herself, always able to make her own decisions, who had finally told her that she must face up to life, must show herself to the Robinson family, including the very man who had made her life so difficult.
I will. She trembled at the mere thought of it, and couldn’t decide who or what she was afraid of. Humiliation? Being branded a liar? And if she did visit the Robinsons, what if she should by chance meet her own parents? Would they recognize her, and if they did, would they walk by? It would perhaps be best if they did.
The door opened and Giles came back with two glasses, a small jug of hot water and the brandy bottle. ‘Here we are; just what the doctor ordered.’
He pulled a small table forward and placed everything on it, then sat down to pour. He measured a generous amount of brandy into one glass, topped it up with hot water and handed it to Delia. ‘Drink up,’ he said, and then poured himself a smaller tot, but without the water.
He lifted the glass. ‘Here’s to us and our predicaments,’ he said wryly, and as Delia lifted her glass she was surprised to find herself cheered by the thought of their shared dilemmas.
She slept soundly until eight o’clock the next morning, Giles having topped up her brandy again, and roused herself with the decision that she would face up to her problem and go to Paull on the following Sunday. She wrote a postcard to Jenny telling her of her resolution and asking if she might be able to visit her family that day; she was unsure whether she could be brave enough to face them alone.
As she dressed she saw that an envelope had been pushed beneath her door. She opened it; the note was brief, and from Giles.
I have received correspondence from York, he wrote, and am leaving immediately as it seems there is some urgency which could precipitate any decision I might need to make. I trust you are in a more positive state of mind this morning?
Yours most sincerely, Giles.
I wonder what has happened, she thought. A telegram must have arrived.
Her resolve over her decision began to waver. Can I get to the weekend without changing my mind, and must I be prepared to bring Robin back with me if the family refuses to have him any longer once I tell them who his father is? They will of course believe their son rather than me.
There was no matinee that afternoon, which meant she had a whole day to kill before the evening performance. She couldn’t even take a leisurely breakfast, as Mrs Benson discouraged any lingering but swept, dusted and polished as soon as her lodgers had finished, and prepared the tables for the next meal.
Delia went back up to her room, looked out of the window, and seeing that it wasn’t raining put on her coat, hat, shawl and outdoor boots and went downstairs again and out of the house.
Her feet took her back through Trinity Square, and on impulse she turned towards the ancient church, walking up the path and finding the doors open
