tone changed, his voice becoming soft and persuasive. ‘It ain’t like that, Em. The man wants you, and as he said, he can hardly take money from me once you’re his wife.’
‘I don’t care what he said! I won’t marry him and you can’t force me.’
‘Who said anything about forcing you? Think about it, Em. You’d be living in that big house that you’re so fond of, and us lot would never have to worry about eviction again.’
Emma’s stomach was churning. She may have fantasised about living in Mr Bell’s lovely house, of being rich, but she’d never dreamed of being his wife. Her eyes burned as she faced her father.
‘It isn’t my fault that we’re facing eviction, it’s yours. You’ve got us in this fix, and I’m supposed to marry an old man to get you out of it. What did you do, Dad?’ she taunted. ‘Did you offer me for sale to the highest bidder?’
Red faced and sounding indignant, Tom stammered, ‘Of course I didn’t, you silly cow! The man approached me. Anyway, I don’t know what you’re so upset about. All right, he may be a bit older than you, but he’s rich, and instead of jumping at the chance of a lifetime, you’re acting as though I’m sending you to the gallows.’
‘You might as well be. I’d rather be dead than marry him!’
‘Christ, your mother would turn in her grave if she knew what a selfish bitch you’ve turned into. You haven’t given a thought to the kids. Let me tell you, we’ll be out on the streets if you turn the man down.’
Emma’s throat tightened, constricted with emotion. Her mouth opened in protest, but no words came. She turned on her heels, fleeing the room, taking the stairs two at a time and dashing out onto the street. She wasn’t being selfish–she wasn’t, it was just that the thought of being Mr Bell’s wife made her blood run cold. She flung open the street door, running without thought of where she was going until, out of breath, she bent double, gasping for air.
When her breathing steadied, Emma began to walk, her mind twisting and turning, going over and over the same things. How could her father say she was selfish? She was working for Mr Bell to pay off the arrears. Surely that was enough? But no, her father hadn’t been paying the rent again, the money going over the bar at the King’s Arms instead. It was he who was selfish, not her–his fault that they were going to be chucked out.
Emma continued to walk, her eyes fixed ahead yet seeing nothing around her, her thoughts always coming back to the knowledge that if she didn’t marry Mr Bell, they’d be evicted. Yet she couldn’t do it, she just couldn’t! She’d have to sleep with the man, share his bed! There had to be another way. Maybe they could borrow money from somewhere? Who could she ask? Alice Moon, yes maybe Alice could help them.
With a little hope in her heart now, Emma turned for home, where she knocked on Alice’s door.
‘Hello, love. I’m afraid the boys aren’t here. Cyril’s taken them to the park.’
‘Can I talk to you, Alice?’
‘Of course you can. By the look on your face I can see something’s wrong. Come on in.’
Alice led her through to the sitting room and indicated that she should sit down.
After refusing a cup of tea, Emma blurted it all out, ending with, ‘So you see, if we pay the rent, I won’t have to marry Mr Bell. I…I was wondering if you could lend it to us. I’ll pay you back, honest I will.’
‘Oh, love, I wish I could help, but I’m skint. You see, I went a bit mad buying for the kids, and it’s cleaned me out. You could try a money lender, but they charge a mint in interest and if you miss a payment they get nasty. Jack Marsh, who lives round the corner, got every finger in his hand broken, and when he still couldn’t pay, the loan shark broke his leg. It ain’t worth the risk, love. I’ve heard of other people who’ve been paying off loans for years, and with the exorbitant interest rates they never get close to clearing the debt.’
‘It’s my only hope, Alice.’
‘Think about it, Emma. Your father isn’t paying the rent, and even if he gets a loan to pay off the arrears, they’ll soon mount up again. Then it’s another loan, and another…’
Emma hung her head. Alice was right, and her last hope was dashed.
When Alice spoke again, her voice was gentle. ‘I know you think Mr Bell is old, but he isn’t, not really. If you marry him you’d want for nothing. You’d have that fine house and you’d be out of this dump.’
‘Alice, you’re pointing out the same things as my father, but I can’t marry Mr Bell. I’d…I’d have to sleep with him, in his bed, and the thought of that makes me feel sick.’
‘It ain’t so bad, love, and if Mr Bell is anything like my Cyril, it’s soon over.’
Emma’s face flamed. Sex had been a taboo subject with her mother, and though she’d heard the goings-on often enough, she had no idea what actually happened. ‘Does…does it hurt, Alice?’
‘The first time can be a little painful, but after that, it’s fine. In fact, it can be very enjoyable.’
The colour in Emma’s face deepened and she lowered her eyes. There were so many questions, so much she wanted to ask Alice, but was too embarrassed. ‘I still don’t think I can marry the man. I…I don’t love him.’
‘Do you like him?’
‘Well, yes, I suppose so, but I hardly know him.’
‘Liking someone is a good enough start.’ Leaning forward, she patted Emma’s knee. ‘There ain’t many girls who get a chance to marry well and get away from these stinking streets. If you ask me, you should grab the chance.’
Emma shook her head against the advice as she rose to her feet. ‘I’d best get back, Alice.’
‘All right, love, but think about what I’ve said. Think very carefully.’
Slowly Emma climbed upstairs, her shoulders bent. She went into the attic room, tensing as her father jumped to his feet, his voice frantic.
‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’
‘For a walk.’
‘And have you changed your mind?’
‘No.’
‘Please, Emma, see sense. Mr Bell will be here soon for his answer.’
‘I don’t care. I won’t marry him.’
‘Emma, for God’s sake! Think what your mother would say. Surely she’d have encouraged you to get out of this dump–to have a better life.’
Emma looked at her father with disgust. He was using emotional blackmail again and, sickened, she slumped onto a stool. But his words had touched her, her thoughts turning to her mother. Oh, Mum, what should I do?
She looked around the room, at the damp, peeling wallpaper, and tears filled her eyes. For the last few years of her life, all her mother had known was this hovel, her life one of drudgery, giving birth to one child after another with barely enough money to feed them all. Why? Why did she put up with it? Though she wanted to deny it, Emma knew the answer: love. Her parents had known each other since childhood, falling in love whilst still at school. Huh, and look where love had got Mum. A life of grinding poverty and an early grave.
‘Think of us, girl. If you don’t marry Mr Bell, we’ll be out on our ears.’ As her father said these words there was a knock on the door. ‘Bugger, he’s here. For the love of God, Emma, don’t turn him down.’
Emma’s eyes darkened with hate as she glared at her father. ‘It’s you who should have thought of the kids.’ There was another knock, louder this time, and she sighed heavily before saying, ‘You’d better let him in.’
‘Hello,