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Authors: Josephine Cox

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BOOK: Three Letters
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Anxious for this troubled young woman who had come into her life, Marilyn began to suspect that few people had ever noticed Ruth as a child growing up; few people had ever truly listened
to her, or advised her, or even chastised her. Even worse, one by one, the people who might have cared for her most had callously abandoned her.

Consequently, she had been left without boundaries, without guidance or values, and because she had never experienced real affection, she had none to give out. She had never been able to love Tom, but with Steve it was different, because in the painfully
short space of time she knew him, she had given herself to him heart and soul; in a way she had never before experienced. Steve had awakened something in her, and through the love they shared, the fragile beginnings of a life was created inside her.

Yet cruelly, for whatever reason, Steve had also abandoned her. As had her parents, and even her best friend and only confidante. So, one by one,
in her heart she abandoned them in turn, and never again did she allow herself to love; not her devoted husband, nor her only child.

It was a sad thing. Easily done, but not so easily undone.

Marilyn had been deeply shocked at the devious and calculating manner in which Ruth had snared a fine man, and she now felt the need to remark on it. ‘I understand what you must have felt like, after being
let down by everyone you trusted. But from what I understand, you had a good husband in Tom, and your boy had a good father. So, why could you not love them?’

‘Because I had no love to give.’ Even now, though she blamed herself for Tom having taken his own life, Ruth could find no warmth in her heart either for him, or the boy; except maybe just a tinge of regret. ‘The night we had that awful
row, I said shameful things. I told Tom that he was not Casey’s father. Casey heard, and I didn’t even care because I wanted him to hear! I needed to hurt them both. To make them suffer, like I’ve suffered all these years.

‘I never thought Tom would take his own life,’ she cried brokenly. ‘He made sure the boy was safe with his granddad, and then he … he …’ She just couldn’t say it, and her heart
was breaking at the way she had driven that good man to his death. ‘I never wanted that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry …’

The weight of her guilt at what Tom had done was crippling, yet even so, she felt no stirrings of love for him.

‘Ssh, child.’ Marilyn cried with her. ‘What’s done is done, and it can never be undone.’

Ruth lost herself in the memories of Tom and his endless patience with her;
of the boy, who had the looks and soul of his true father, the man who had callously turned his back on them both.

While Ruth sobbed, the older woman held her close, her own heart heavy with what she had learned.

‘Be strong,’ she whispered softly in Ruth’s ear. ‘I’ll help you, if I can,’ she promised. ‘I won’t abandon you.’

She held Ruth until all the sorrow was spent, and then she spoke her
thoughts. ‘I think you’ve bottled up all your emotions for too long, and now, maybe, just maybe, you can make a fresh start.’

She had a proposition to help Ruth get back on her feet again. ‘As you’ve no doubt realised, I run a boarding house; though just now it’s a quiet time. But my helper left a while back, and I do have need of someone. So, if you want the work, you’re welcome to make this
your home, for as long as you need.’

She now made a confession of her own. ‘We all have something we would change, if we could. I mean, look at me. I was a bit wild myself as a young girl. I was independent and wilful, and by the age of thirty, my parents were gone, and my only sister had moved abroad. I was still single. I thought life was for having fun and doing the things you liked, without
someone telling you what you should and shouldn’t do. I thought I’d rather be free, to do as I liked and go where I wanted. Only it didn’t work out the way I planned.’

Ruth gave a whimsical smile. ‘Nothing ever does.’

‘That’s very true. I soon learned that having your independence, a good job and money to buy nice things and travel is all very well. Only, you soon find you’re working doubly
hard to earn money enough to live your dreams, and when you find them, they aren’t really what you’d hoped they might be … if you know what I mean?’

‘I think I know what you mean,’ Ruth said. ‘If you don’t have anyone to share your dream, then it means nothing.’ In that moment, she was not thinking of Tom, a loyal father and husband. Instead, she was thinking of Steve, a man she had spent one
night with nine years ago. A man who had turned his back on her when she needed him most.

The older woman was still talking. ‘In my case, I left it too late to find a truly good man; a man who might light up my life, bring me love, and share my dreams. That was never going to happen, so, after a while, I was made to settle for second-best, which is OK, but not what I’d planned.’ She made a comical
grimace. ‘They do say we get what we deserve.’

Ruth understood. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t love Tom,’ she said. ‘It was always Steve I wanted, but he didn’t want me.’

‘Well, like I said, water under the bridge. It’s gone, and we can’t bring it back, however much we’d like to. So, if you can, you need to put all your heartache and disappointments behind you, and follow a new plan.’

She scrambled
out of her chair. ‘Right then! It’s late now, and you must be shattered. It’s time to get you settled for the night.’

‘I’d like that.’ Ruth felt incredibly weary. ‘I think I’d like to take you up on the offer of work and a place to live. Like you said, I need a plan.’

‘Good, but you need to sleep on it before making rash decisions.’ Marilyn hardly knew anything about this stranger. She didn’t
know what kind of person she was, and yet, in Ruth she saw a glimpse of her former self.

Chatting all the way, she led Ruth up the stairs and into the front bedroom.

‘This was the previous girl’s room,’ she told her. ‘It’s a pretty little room, with its own toilet and wash facilities, and you’ll find a clean nightgown in the airing cupboard on the landing. It’s one of mine, so it’ll probably
drown you, but it’ll do till we go shopping tomorrow. So! If tomorrow you still want to take up my offer of a job, this will be your room, and your wages will be four pounds a week, after board and lodgings. So, you think on it, and let me know in the morning.’

Ruth didn’t need time to ‘think on it’.

‘I want the job,’ she said. ‘And I promise, I won’t let you down.’

So it was agreed, and each
went to her room reflecting on the night’s events.

For a while, the older woman stood at her bedroom window, looking out at the night. ‘Well, Lord, you certainly tried me out when you sent me this poor, lost soul,’ she murmured to the skies. ‘By her own admittance, she’s done some bad things, but I reckon she might be worth the saving. I’ve done my best to help her, and maybe, just maybe, my
offer of work and a roof over her head might soften the hardness in her. Hopefully, it might also restore her faith in human nature.’

She took a moment to think about Ruth, and the sorry confessions she’d made. Between us, we might discover whether she’s worth the saving, she thought. Slowly, slowly though, eh? We’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?’

Having collected the nightgown from the airing
cupboard, Ruth undressed, washed at the basin, and laughed out loud when the nightgown fell about her like a tent. But it was clean and it would keep her warm.

Marilyn Parker, you’re a big, handsome lady, Ruth thought as, collecting the excess material into her hands, she smiled towards the door. And I’m very glad I found you.

Leaving the curtains open, she turned back the covers and climbed
into bed. After sleeping rough, she found this little room to be a haven.

On the mantelpiece a little clock loudly ticked away the minutes, the rhythmic sound soothing her mind and lulling her into a much-needed sleep.

She was so tired. Her whole body hurt, and her heart ached with all manner of emotion. The sense of terror still lingered after her ordeal with those creatures of the night, leaving
her feeling dirty, and shamed.

It was like she had been punished for her wickedness, but if that was so, she still had a long way to go before she might feel easier with herself. If ever.

When the men carried her away, like wolves with their prey, she feared she was about to meet her maker. That fear had shaken her to her very roots. Through the horror and the pain and the thought of worse to
come, she saw herself as being no better than the creatures who had taken her.

For the first time, she knew the depth of badness in herself. It was a cruel revelation, and one that had her climbing out of bed and pacing the floor. After a while, and calmer now, she returned to the window.

In a whisper, she bared her soul to whoever might be listening up there, hiding behind the clouds. She spoke
of her anger. Anger at her own failings. Anger at Steve, for turning her away as though she was nothing, as though the child inside her was nothing.

She was angry with Tom for allowing her to become the monster she was. The questions raged through her. Why didn’t Tom hit out earlier? Why didn’t he leave me? Why did he stay with me for all those years? Why could he not see how little I thought
of him? How did he not realise that the boy was not his son? And how could he not see how much I loathed the boy?

Her thoughts returned to the callous way in which Steve had deserted her. ‘And what about Steve? Someone I truly loved? And yet, what he did to me was only what I did to Tom, and the boy … causing them pain. Turning them away, as though
they
were nothing.’

Only now did she fully
understand.

But it did not change the truth: that even now, seeing how it had been, she still felt no stirring of love for either Tom or the boy.

Curiosity overwhelmed her. I wonder how it might have been, if Steve had accepted me and the child? I wonder if things might have been different. I think I could have loved the boy, because I would have had his father. Isn’t that so? Or is it just
wishful thinking?

Either way, one thing was certain: it would never happen, because Steve was gone, and Tom was gone, and the boy was lost to her. She had no one, and nothing. Her life as she knew it was over.

‘It’s too late now,’ she said aloud with a nervous little smile. ‘So be it!’

Exhausted, she climbed back into bed and for a while her thoughts raced on. Tomorrow, she had decisions to
make. More than ever, she must not be rash or take a wrong turn in her life. Yet she had been offered work and a place to lay her head. She had said yes, but was it what she really wanted?

Did she want to stay here, close to where she had suffered such an ordeal? Would she ever dare to venture out, in case those men saw her? Was it possible they might wait their chance to snare the prey they’d
been cheated out of?

She had gladly given the landlady her word. Now, though, after giving it more serious thought, she was not sure what to do.

CHAPTER TEN

A
T LONG LAST
, the day had arrived.

Casey was so excited, he could hardly wait for his granddad Bob to get ready. He ran into the scullery. ‘Hurry up, Granddad! We need to go. He might be closing early, or he might think we’re not coming. Please, Granddad, hurry up!’

‘Hey!’ Speaking from the side of his mouth, the old man swirled the shaving brush over his stubbly chin. ‘You’ll ’ave
me slicing a chunk outta me face if yer don’t stop nagging! Read your
Beano
and be patient. I’ll be done when I’m done, and not afore. So, be off with yer … go on! Let me finish shaving an’ we’ll be on our way.’

He shooed him out of the scullery. ‘Yer mekkin’ me a nervous wreck, yer impatient little bugger.’ He quietly cursed when the razor edge caught him on the cheek.

‘Sorry, Granddad.’ Casey
knew he should not be hounding his granddad, especially when he was shaving, but he was excited, and fearful at the same time, in case something might go wrong before they got there.

When Casey turned away, the old man gave a little grin. ‘We’ll be on our way soon, lad,’ he muttered to himself, ‘an’ don’t think I’m not excited as you are, because I am.’

He knew well enough what today meant for
the boy. After all the sadness in Casey’s young life, today was a chink of light; and it was a grand and welcome thing, for both the boy and himself.

When Granddad Bob appeared looking smart and tidy, Casey was impressed, but honest. ‘You look like a brand-new man. Dolly won’t like it, though, ’cause you look different.’

‘O’ course she will.’

Taking a deep, invigorating breath, the old fella
collected his jacket from the door peg, then took out his wallet and checked that he had enough money. Now he was ready.

‘Right, lad. It’s time to go.’

The two of them went down the passageway and out the door, then Granddad Bob made sure the house was secured before they set off down the street. ‘Oh, and don’t forget, yer must say nowt. Yer to leave all the talking to me. I know how these people
work.’

‘How’s that, Granddad?’

‘Never you mind.’ Giving a knowing wink, he tapped the side of his nose. ‘He might be able to bamboozle his other customers, but not me, ’cause I’ve been around too long to be bamboozled by anybody.’

‘Why would he want to bam … bomzle you, Granddad?’

‘Well, ’cause from what I’ve been told, he’s a canny businessman, and canny businessmen like to squeeze out a
tidy profit for themselves, sometimes at the expense of unwary customers.’

‘Are you an unwary customer?’

‘Never!’

‘So, that’s good then, isn’t it?’

‘Absolutely!’

A short time later, with Casey skipping ahead, they reached the bus stop. Having watched the bus draw in, they were surprised to see Dolly climbing down off the platform, carrying two shopping bags full to the brim.

‘You’re back
early, lass.’

‘That’s because I set off early.’ Moving in with these two boys had made her happier than she’d been for a very long time. She’d given up her rented house beside the railway, given Bartie to Billy next door – which pleased both man and dog – and then, with Patrick’s help and the now empty wagon, Bob had arranged to collect her belongings.

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