asked me to marry him,’ she said slowly, ‘and though I did wonder if he’d been seeing anyone else, he swore that I’m the only one. Maybe he was a womaniser at first, but not now. He loves me. I’m sure he does.’
Nelly was shaking her head. ‘Dottie, I’m sorry, but there’s more and it’s worse. I saw Cynthia yesterday and she told me that Robbie was knocking on her door in the early hours on Sunday morning. She said he was in a right old state, sweating and panting. Once she got him inside he said he was on the run from the coppers ’cos he’d just done a big job, and asked her to hide him for a while. He paid her well, so she put him up until a decent hour, then she went and borrowed her brother’s car to drop him at the train station.’
Dorothy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Robbie doing a ‘big job’? Puzzled, she said, ‘I don’t understand. What was this job?’
‘He robbed some posh jeweller’s over the river.’
Dorothy was finding this all very difficult to take in, but then an idea struck and it suddenly made sense to her. ‘I know why he did it, Nelly. It was to get me a ring. Robbie’s not a bad person and he’s no thief. This is all my fault for putting pressure on him to get me that engagement ring. He did it for me! Oh, Nelly, what have I done?’
Nelly sucked in her breath. ‘But what about spending the night with Cynthia? She’s only got one room and one bed so we know where he slept. Is that your fault too?’
‘Well, if he needed somewhere to hide, everyone knows she’ll do just about anything for money and maybe he was desperate. He must have been so scared.’
‘Dottie, you can be so bloody naïve sometimes. I’m telling you, you’re well rid of that man. He’s a blinkin’ criminal who can’t keep his trousers zipped up.’
Dorothy felt a surge of strength and stood up defiantly. ‘You’re wrong, Nelly. You know what your problem is, don’t you? You always want to see the bad in people, to give you something to gossip about. You won’t have it that Robbie did this for me because he loves me and wants the best for me. Well, I’m sorry, but if you refuse to accept that my fiancé is a good, decent man, then you can go to hell!’
With that Dorothy stormed from the room, in no doubt that she’d left Nelly gobsmacked. She cared a lot for her friend, but if Nelly wanted to say such malicious things about Robbie, then she had no regrets about calling her a gossip.
She rubbed both hands across her face as her mind reeled. Her mother had been right to make her come to work, and now at least she knew the truth. Robbie had been forced to go on the run, and it was all her fault. Oh, Robbie, her mind cried. When will I ever see you again?
It was the same thing every day and had been going on since Robbie had left. Dorothy would rush home from work, run straight to the kitchen and ask if there was any post for her. Alice knew that her daughter was desperately waiting on news from Robbie, but there were no letters. Each day she saw the disappointed look on her daughter’s face, yet Dorothy still held out hope, which was more than Alice did. Though Dorothy had kept it to herself, gossip had reached Alice that Robbie had been involved in some sort of robbery, and if that was true her daughter was better off without him. It also explained why he’d done a runner and she doubted they’d see him in these parts again. Of course, eventually Dorothy would have to accept the fact that Robbie had gone for good and wasn’t coming back to marry her, but she was dreading the day when the truth finally sank in and she would be left to pick up the pieces of her daughter’s broken heart.
Though it was a cold November day, Alice was wet with perspiration as she heaved out the next load of washing. Mrs Pierce had given her a large bag of dirty bedding and, as Alice sorted through the laundry, she noticed bloodstains on one of the sheets. It didn’t faze her – she was used to dealing with women’s menstrual mishaps – but all of a sudden reality hit. Alice gasped and dropped the dirty sheet. She felt giddy and reached out to the kitchen table to steady herself, just as the door flew open and Dorothy walked in.
‘Hello, Mum. Anything for me from the postman?’
Alice couldn’t bring herself to look up at her daughter, let alone answer her.
‘Mum … are you all right?’
She drew in a long breath. Maybe she was mistaken. Perhaps she had just missed the signs but there was only one way to find out. Her voice was grave, slow and steady as she stood as tall as her bent back would allow and asked, ‘Dottie, when did you last have a period?’
The colour drained from Dorothy’s face as she looked at her mother, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
‘I thought as much,’ Alice said scathingly. ‘You’ve gone and got yourself in the family way.’
‘No … Mum. I can’t be … but … but …’
‘But? What’s that supposed to mean, Dorothy Butler? Don’t you “but” me, young lady! Are you pregnant or not?’
‘I don’t think so … but … oh, Mum, I think I may have missed a period. No, no, I can’t be pregnant … I just can’t be!’
‘Did you give yourself to that Robbie?’
Dorothy didn’t answer.
‘Well, did you?’ Alice shouted and saw Dottie’s body flinch. She wasn’t usually one to raise her voice, but the thought of her daughter being an unmarried mother … oh, the shame of it.
‘Yes,’ Dorothy answered quietly, her head lowered.
‘Then of course you could be pregnant, you silly girl. Oh, Dorothy, I thought you knew better. How could you do this to me? That’s it, you’ve ruined your life, and how will we manage? You’ll lose your job, and once the street hear about this they’ll stop giving me their washing.’
‘I … I’m sorry.’
Alice pulled out a rickety chair from the table, slumped onto it and buried her face in her hands. She thought she might burst into tears but found that she was too angry to cry. Instead, her head snapped up as she said, ‘Sorry? Huh! What’s the good of saying sorry? No man will want you now … a woman with a child out of wedlock. You’ll have a terrible reputation round here. You’ll be shunned and no doubt I will be too.’
Dorothy turned and fled the room whilst Alice shook her head in disgust at the thought of the child in her daughter’s stomach. Robbie had run off so he wouldn’t be doing the right thing, nor would he be any sort of a father to his baby. What were they going to do? Alice knew she would have to think fast before her daughter began to show any signs of her pregnancy.
Dorothy studied her stomach in the cracked mirror on her dressing table. Could she be pregnant? She reached under her bed and grabbed her diary before frantically flicking through the pages.
In mid-September, she had lost her virginity. She hadn’t had a period in October … and now it was November. Her mother was right, she was pregnant. But they had only made love on the one occasion and it was her first time. Robbie had said that you couldn’t get pregnant the first time …
There were no tears as Dorothy sat on her bed in disbelief. She had never seen her mother look at her like that before, but she could make everything all right if only she could get word to Robbie. If he knew she was going to have his baby, he would come back to marry her, just as he’d promised he would.
It was dark outside at 6.30 that evening and bitterly cold. Adrian had no plans for going anywhere, so he settled down in front of the telly with a whisky mixed with water and a large slice of fruit cake that his neighbour had kindly made for him, though it would inevitably add to his paunchy belly.
There was a knock on the front door. With a sigh, Adrian got up and opened the door, and was surprised to find Dorothy