Admittedly she had never shown any interest in the babies but it was the first time she had openly said how much she disliked them and as Barnaby stared down at her, he hardly recognised her. The woman he had fallen in love with had been beautiful, flirtatious and sweet. Now she was bitter and frail, as if she was fading away before his very eyes, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. But was he really to blame? he asked himself. He really had loved her when he married her and had been excited for the future and the thought of the children they would have together. But from the start it had become clear that she had never loved him in the way he had her. Had she returned his love, he would never have sought solace with other women.
There had been two other women apart from Amber who he had dallied with during his marriage, although neither of them had meant a thing to him. The women had both been married to much older men and had used him as much as he had used them. And then a picture of Amber flashed in front of his eyes and again the guilt weighed heavy on him. She and Louisa were as different as chalk from cheese in every way. Louisa had been breathtakingly beautiful and pampered with her every wish catered for, whereas Amber, although attractive, was a hard-working girl with rough hands and no pretty clothes to speak of. So what, he wondered, had ever attracted him to her? She had been nervous when he had first made advances to her, probably because she had been fearful of what might happen to her family should she deny him. But then she had given herself to him heart and soul and he had made promises that he couldn’t keep – and look what the outcome had been. He had ruined the girl’s life and he couldn’t put that right either. His shoulders suddenly sagged and without a word he left the room.
‘That was a little harsh, my love,’ Mrs Ruffin scolded Louisa as she helped her to take a sip of water.
‘Whywas it?’ Louisa answered sharply. ‘I was only telling the truth!’ And with that she turned her back on the woman who loved her as her own child and went into a sulk.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Any luck, lass?’ Sadie Grimshaw asked as Amber entered the kitchen.
The noise in the room assailed Amber and she smiled wearily. Nancy’s younger siblings were rolling about on the peg rug in front of the fire making enough racket to waken the dead and the smell of boiled cabbage and stale bodies hung heavy in the air.
Amber shook her head wearily. She had been out since early that morning job-hunting, just as she had every day during the week she had been staying there, but again she’d had no luck, even though she’d walked for miles and ventured much further afield. Even the farms that were dotted across the moors had nothing to offer and now she was seriously disheartened. It seemed much longer than a week since she’d said a teary goodbye to her mother and waved her off on the coach bound for Scarborough, and although Sadie had gone out of her way to make her feel welcome, Amber often longed for the peace and quiet of the cottage that had been the only home she had ever known.
As two of the younger children started to fight, Sadie waved a wooden spoon at them. ‘If you bloody pair don’t be’ave I’ll bang yer bloody ’eads together. Now keep the noise down!’
Amber couldn’t help but smile. For all her shouting, Sadie was as soft as butter inside. The children were lovely too, if rather undisciplined. Now each night Amber squashed into one of the two beds in the attic room with Nancy’s four sisters, and although it was a bit of a squeeze, she was grateful for the children’s warmth because the wind seemed to find every opening in the thatched roof.
Nancy’s father was a fisherman, as Amber’s own had been, and thankfully the family never went hungry, although their staple diet consisted of fish and boiled cabbage. Sadie wasn’t too keen on cleaning either and Amber dreaded to think how long it might have been since the sheets had been changed, or the children’s clothes for that matter. But even so, she was grateful that Sadie had taken her in and made her feel so welcome.
Thankfully Amber had been able to give Sadie some of the money she had saved from when she had worked in London to cover her keep, but now she was seriously concerned about what she would do when it was all gone. She could hardly expect Sadie to keep her for nothing and knew that if the worst came to the worst she would have to go to her uncle and try to find a job in Scarborough. But worrying as all this was, the biggest problem she’d had since her mother had left to go to her uncle’s was Bertie Preston. He seemed to be hounding her and he was scathing each time he saw her.
Amber picked her way through the tangle of little bodies rolling around the floor and made for the fire where she held her hands out to the heat of the flames. They were blue with cold and as the feeling started to return to them, she flinched with the pain of the pins and needles. Her feet felt no better and she was miserable as she gently unwound her thick shawl from about her head and shoulders. It had offered little protection against the biting cold and already she was dreading the next morning when she would start the whole process of job-hunting again.
However, her sad mood didn’t last too long when Sadie fetched her a steaming mug of tea and told her, ‘There’s a letter come for you today, lass. It’s on the mantelshelf, look. I bet it’s from yer mam.’
Amber snatched it down eagerly and after removing a load of dirty clothes from the fireside chair she sank into it and split the envelope open.
Her throat tightened with tears as she saw her mother’s familiar handwriting and she began to read.
Dear Amber,
I hope this letter finds yer well and settled in with Mrs Grimshaw. Do give her my best wishes. Have yer managed to find a new job yet? I am settling very happily at your uncle’s and at present Martha (Mrs Carter) and me are busily planning the wedding. It’s only going to be a quiet affair at the end of June but both she and your uncle would love you to be there to share the happy day with them. I do ’ope you’ll be able to make it. They seem so suited and I’m sure they’ll be very happy together. I just wish they’d realised they were right for each other years ago. So much wasted time! Still, better late than never, eh?
I’ve started taking little Fancy for a walk each evening to give them some time alone together and have to say I’ve really bonded with the little dog; she has such a sweet nature and so does Biddy. I’m going to start work in the shop next week, just part-time to give your uncle and Martha a bit more space, and your uncle has bought me some lovely new clothes to wear there. I must say I feel very posh in them. I’m going to have a new outfit for the wedding too! So all in all things are working out for me far better than I had hoped, although of course I miss you all something terrible.
Anyway, my lass, I’ll go now as it’s almost dinner time and whatever Martha is cooking smells very nice!
Take care,
Love yer,
Mam xxxx
‘All right, is she, lass?’
‘Yes, thank you, she sounds fine,’ Amber replied as she carefully folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. ‘She’s settling well.’
‘Hm, but you’re missin’ her, ain’t you?’
The kindly voice brought tears to Amber’s eyes as she nodded but then the door suddenly burst open, bringing in a gust of icy air, and Nancy hurried in.
‘Brrr, it’s enough to freeze the ’air’s off a brass monkey out there,’ she declared as she hastily slammed the door shut.
‘An’ what brings you ’ere at this time o’ day, lass? You ain’t got the sack have yer?’ her mother asked with a worried frown.
‘No, I ain’t, Mam, don’t worry.’ Nancy chuckled as she hurried towards the fire nudging the children out of the way as she went. ‘I’ve been sent wi’ a message for Amber as it happens, so I can’t stay long. Mrs Boswell is watchin’ the babies. I’ve got time fer a cuppa, though, if there’s one goin’.’
