Josephine Cox - Lonely Girl

‘I don’t need to explain my reasons to you or to anyone else.’

‘But I thought you wanted to be with me.’

‘I do.’

‘Well, now you’re confusing me. You say you don’t love him and that you love me. And yet you refuse to leave him and make a life with me. Why, Molly? Explain it to me, because I don’t understand.’

‘You don’t need to understand.’

‘Oh, but I do! If you don’t love him, why did you marry him when you could have had me?’

‘Are you absolutely sure you need to know?’

‘Just tell me.’

‘Aw, bugger it!’ She pushed him away. ‘You’re getting me all wound up. I need a fag.’

Leaning against the wall, she rummaged in her handbag and drew out a packet of Woodbines and a box of matches.

Having lit the cigarette, she took a long drag on it and blew the smoke out slowly. Then she turned back to Tom.

‘It’s true I really did love you, Tom, but you had nothing to give me … at least not by way of material things, like a home, and nice clothes, and all the trimmings. Then, when John’s father died and left him the farm, I saw where my future lay, and I went for it. I thought nothing of him – I still loved you – but he came with a farm that was worth a tidy penny, while you had nothing worthwhile to offer me. Even now, I don’t need to work if I don’t want to because he provides everything. Working gets me away from the pair of them. I do what I like with my wages, and that suits me fine.’

‘I see.’ He was shaken at her cold manner. ‘You really are a bad lot, aren’t you, Molly?’

‘I suppose … It all worked out so well, except I could never love him. To this day he doesn’t even realise how much I hate him … and the girl. When the girl appeared, I was sorely tempted to leave the pair of them, but common sense got the better of me.’

‘And you’ve stayed all these years. But you could have come to me, Molly. I had my own little place back then. I would never have turned you away.’

‘I stayed because it was part of my plan,’ she admitted. ‘I was a good wife to him.’ She paused, remembering the difficult times. ‘The girl ruined everything. She was never part of the big plan, but he adored her and so I learned to pretend.’

‘But why could you not genuinely love that innocent child?’

Molly gave him a long, inscrutable look. ‘I never wanted children. I was determined to be careful, but in spite of that, I still got pregnant. John never knew about his son, and I never told him. Instead, when I first found out I was carrying, I went to old Ma Battersby on Acament Street. She’s known for helping pregnant women who want her kind of help, and my secret was safe with her. So, as soon as I realised he’d got me up the duff, she got rid of it for me. She told me she’d made an educated guess as to its gender. I feel no guilt at having denied him a son.’

She gave a drunken, pathetic little giggle. ‘If he’d known how I got rid of his son, it would have broken his heart. Then along came another baby. Ma Battersby couldn’t do anything to help me with that one, and the girl gave me a bad time. She made me so wretched that on certain days I couldn’t even go to work. She just made me feel terrible. Suddenly, there I was, literally left holding the baby. It was almost as though John and his brat had planned it all, and I hated them both. I still do.’

Molly fell silent, while Tom Stevens reflected on what she had told him. How could he ever have fallen for this cold-hearted woman?

‘Shocked, are you?’ Molly’s shrill voice invaded his thoughts. ‘Still want me, do you?’

‘I must be a sad man,’ he replied thoughtfully. ‘How in God’s name can I love a hard-hearted woman like you? It’s as if, all those years ago, you crept into my head and my heart, and now I’m only half a man without you. So what does that say about me, eh?’ He felt ashamed and guilty, and yet he still needed her so badly he could hardly breathe.

‘It sounds to me as if you’re utterly miserable on the farm. You don’t love your husband and you don’t want the girl, so why not leave it all behind? We’re both working – we could rent a place somewhere. Nothing too grand, but at least it’ll be ours.’ When she gave no answer, he asked again, ‘What d’you say, Molly?’

‘Don’t talk stupid!’ Cursing herself for having confided in him, Molly reacted viciously. ‘Do you really think I’ve gone through years of hell, only to move in with you, to live in a grotty bedsit down some godforsaken backstreet? Hell will freeze over before I do that. My plan is to brave it out. Then, when he pops his clogs – hopefully sooner rather than later – I intend getting everything. John Tanner might be a first-class farmer, but he’s not too bright when it comes to paperwork, except when it’s to do with agricultural stuff.’

She smiled knowingly, lowering her voice. ‘Everything else – the more personal, official stuff – falls to me to deal with. So I am fully aware of what he’s worth and, consequently, what I am also worth, if you know what I mean?’

‘No, I don’t know what you mean, Molly. You might need to spell it out for me. What exactly are you getting at?’

In a soft, intimate voice she explained, ‘Well, let’s just say you should not be at all surprised if amongst John Tanner’s paperwork is a copy of his last will and testament. So I now know that, thanks to his father and grandfather before him having always had property and worked hard to keep it safe, John Tanner is not only worth a bob or two, but so am I. If I bide my time, I should end up a very wealthy woman. Think about it. There’s the farmhouse itself. The many acres of prime land, and the woods beyond. The solid furniture that belonged to his parents and grandparents before them, and their every single possession – bits of family jewellery, pictures – all now worth a pretty penny. On top of that, there’s all the machinery, which has cost a fortune over the years.’

She smiled. ‘So you see, Tom, that’s why I chose him over you. Not because I loved him, but because I saw a comfortable future, and if that makes me a bitch, then so be it. You asked for the truth, and now you’ve got it.’

‘You’re a bad lot, Molly. In truth, I’m only just beginning to see how devious you can be. But even now, I still want you in my life. In fact, I’d even be willing to take on the girl.’

‘Well, I’m not! When the time comes, I have other plans for her.’

‘What do you mean? What kind of plans?’

‘I mean that when I’m rid of John Tanner, I have no intention whatsoever of raising his daughter.’

‘I don’t understand. She’s your own flesh and blood. You have no choice but to raise her.’

‘I don’t have to do any such thing. She’s ruined my life since the day I first clapped eyes on her. I have never felt an ounce of affection for her, and I never will.’

Then, to Tom’s astonishment, she murmured softly, ‘The one thing I have always regretted is not smothering her when she was too small to know anything about it.’

Silence fell heavily before Tom, becoming more sober by the minute, was urged to voice his thoughts. ‘Shame on you, Molly. That was a shockingly wicked thing to say.’

She gave no answer, but slid her arm through his and walked him forward. ‘Forget about the girl,’ she advised brightly. ‘I’m sure she’ll be well taken care of when the time comes. But for now, my love, we need to get out of the cold.’

For her, the subject was ended, but her dark confession remained strong in her companion’s mind. He realised that if he and Molly were to have a future together, he must work through his troubling thoughts and reconcile them with his conscience.