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  ‘I suppose so. But I don’t like the thought of asking for his help. The thought of being beholden to him, well, it sticks in my gullet, Ma.’

  ‘But he’s your brother. He won’t grudge it you. Families should stick together. And anyway, you promised Eileen. It was her final wish. You can’t break a deathbed promise.’ When he didn’t speak, she added softly, ‘I think it’s a good idea, anyway.’

  He looked at her in shock. ‘You do? You’d be happy to leave your home and come with me all the way to Australia? I thought you and Pa would be trying to persuade me to stay here.’

  ‘I’d go anywhere with you and the children, so would my Patrick. To hell and back, if we had to. You said ordinary folk can sometimes make a better life out there in the colonies, so maybe it won’t be too bad.’

  She might not be able to read and write, but she had an excellent memory. He’d noticed that before. ‘How can we know for sure it’s the best thing to do, though? I have to think of the children.’

  ‘Fergus, darlin’, we can’t know anything for certain in this life.’

  That made them both fall silent for a minute or two.

  She pulled herself together first. ‘Talking of children, I hope the midwife knows someone who can wet-nurse that baby. And you haven’t even asked how she’s going.’

  ‘No. I haven’t, have I? How is she?’

  ‘She looks healthy but she’s tiny. She’ll fade away quickly if she’s not fed.’

  He didn’t care about the baby but didn’t want to upset her. ‘At least Eileen knew she’d got her wish for a daughter.’ To his surprise, something inside him eased very slightly at this thought.

  ‘Yes. And you’ll be calling the baby Niamh?’

  ‘Yes.’ He didn’t care what they called the child, if truth be told.

  ‘You’ll need another name, too, a saint’s name.’

  ‘No, Ma. I don’t believe in that religious stuff any more. A loving God wouldn’t have taken Eileen away from me and the boys.’

  ‘Oh, Fergus, don’t say that. I know you’re upset, but you mustn’t question God. He must have a reason for taking my daughter.’

  He shrugged.

  She sighed, waited a moment, blinking her eyes and sniffing back tears, then said, ‘But if your brother helps us, you will go to Australia as Eileen wished?’

  ‘I suppose so. But only if Bram will pay for all of us. I’m not leaving you two here on your own, not for anything.’

  ‘Thank you, lad.’

  ‘Ah, don’t thank me yet. He’ll probably say no. It’s a lot of money. Anyway, we won’t find out for a while. I should think Mr Kieran will have to write to him in Australia and that’ll take months. So it’ll be a year or more before we have to go.’

  ‘I see. Now, what do you want to do about looking after the baby and the boys?’

  He looked at her blankly. ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.’

  ‘Well, think about it now. Life goes on, whether we’re happy or sad, and children can’t look after themselves.’

  ‘I’ll still have to earn a living. Can you go on helping us, do you think, Ma? I don’t know what we’d have done without you these past two months and more.’

  ‘Of course I’ll help. But I think it’d be easier if Patrick and I moved in here permanently. I can look after you all more easily then. It’s too hard for a woman my age to manage two houses. And anyway, it’ll save on rent money. With two men earning wages, we should be able to put a bit aside nearly every week for going to Australia.’

  ‘That’s a good idea.’ Ma was far more intelligent than her daughter had been, for all her lack of education, he thought. Smarter than her husband, too.

  ‘Patrick and I could take the front room. You can sell the furniture that’s in there, or I can sell it for you. You can save the money for when we get to Australia. I’ll sell ours too.’ She watched relief settle on him like a cloak and she felt better as well, to have a new purpose in life.

  ‘Thank you, Ma. You’re the kindest woman I’ve ever met. Would you … talk to the midwife for me? About finding someone to feed the baby, I mean. Maybe Niamh could stay with you till you move in here. To tell you the truth, I can’t face that baby yet.’

  Ma gave him another of those troubled looks, but nodded.

  Alana sighed. What Fergus had just said made her determined to move in quickly. She wasn’t going to let him avoid his own child once the funeral was over.

  Bracing herself, she went across to the still figure on the bed and kissed her daughter’s brow one final time, then bent her head in prayer.

  She moved away, stopping beside him to say, ‘I’ll not look at Eileen again in this life, son. I want to remember her like this. At peace.’

  At that moment the midwife came in. ‘Shall I lay her out for you, Mr Deagan? I’ll have to charge you two shillings, but—’

  Fergus threw an anguished glance at the bed, said, ‘Yes!’ in a strangled voice and left the room hastily.

  His mother-in-law stayed behind to speak to the midwife.

  ‘He’s taking it hard,’ Mrs Sealey said.

  ‘Aren’t we all? Can you find us a wet nurse, do you think?’

  ‘You’re in luck. I know just the person. If she’ll do it. She’s just lost her own baby.’

  ‘The poor thing.’

  Cara Payton sat in her bare little room in the lodging house, too deep in despair even to weep. How was she to face life now that her baby had died? Did she even want to try? She’d grown used to the idea that she was expecting, had been comforted by the thought that she’d not be on her own after her child was born.

  But the baby had never even breathed, poor little creature. It’d been a girl, too. She’d wanted a girl.

  When someone knocked on the door, she couldn’t be bothered to get up and answer it. Go away, she thought. Leave me to my grieving.

  The door opened and Mrs Sealey peeped round it. ‘Oh, you are there, Cara. I thought you must have gone out. Didn’t you hear me knocking?’

  She shrugged.

  The midwife came bustling across to study her face and click her tongue in disapproval. ‘You’ve not washed or dressed today, girl. You’re letting yourself go.’

  ‘Who is there to care what I do?’

  ‘Do it for yourself, that’s what I say.’ Mrs Sealey went to scoop some water out of the bucket she’d filled herself the previous evening. ‘Here. Let’s get you freshened up while we talk.’

  Cara allowed her to do as she wished, turning to and fro like a child being washed by its mother.

  ‘There. Don’t you feel better for being clean?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Well, this will lift your spirits. I need your help, dear. A young woman died earlier this morning, but her baby’s still alive and we need a wet nurse for her.’

  That caught Cara’s attention. She stared in shock at the midwife. ‘You’re not suggesting that I do that?’

  ‘Yes, of course I am. Because if you don’t, that baby will die. You’re the only woman round here who’s at the right stage and has milk to spare.’

  ‘No. I can’t do it. Not for a stranger.’

  ‘Yes, you can. I’m not taking no for an answer. You can do what you like with yourself afterwards. If you’re cowardly enough, you can even kill yourself. Oh, yes. I’d guessed what you’d been thinking. But that baby deserves a chance to live. I know you’re not so selfish you’ll let a tiny little girl die when you could save her.’

  There was silence in the room. Voices spoke in the distance, but here was only the quiet breathing of the two women. Mrs Sealey waited a moment before reaching out to touch her companion’s arm, repeating what she’d said, speaking more softly this time. ‘You can save a life, Cara. Will you turn away and let a baby die?’

  ‘Did you say it’s a girl?’

  ‘Yes. They’ve called her Niamh.’

  ‘I … I’m not exactly sure what a wet nurse does.’

  ‘Feeds the
baby.’ She pointed to Cara’s full breasts. ‘You’ve got plenty of milk. She’ll suck it out, grow stronger on it. And as well as feeding her, you’ll care for all her needs, change her clouts, keep her clean, wash her clothes.’

  Another silence, then the thought of a little baby dying if she didn’t help settled in Cara’s mind and she couldn’t refuse. ‘I suppose I could try it. If you’ll show me how.’

  ‘Good girl. We’ll go and see the family now. That baby needs feeding straight away.’

  The younger woman’s voice rang with panic. ‘I don’t want to go out or see anyone! Tell them to bring the baby here.’

  ‘You’ll be better going to them. You’ll have to feed her several times a day, she’s so small. Besides, this place is a slum. I’ve seen the black beetles crawling around, even though you’ve kept this room clean.’

  Cara shuddered.

  ‘Anyway, didn’t you tell me you only had enough money to last until two months after the birth?’

  ‘My father didn’t believe me about being attacked by that man, because he’s a friend and—’ Her voice grew scornful, ‘A pillar of the church. When Father turned me out, he gave me what he thought was enough money to see me through to the birth and he said—’ She gulped and had to stop speaking till she had control of her voice. ‘He said I’d be on my own after that. I was soiled and could never be clean, so I wasn’t to go near the rest of the family again, or he’d have me locked away in the asylum.’

  No use offering her sympathy. That poor girl needed to be pushed into this or she’d mope. ‘Who’d want to go near such a heartless man? But the rest of your family aren’t like that. It was your aunt who sent you to me, after all, and she gave you some more money, didn’t she?’

  ‘She gave me what she could, but my uncle isn’t generous with her. He didn’t let her take me in, because he thinks the same way my father does.’

  ‘Well, no use feeling sorry for yourself. Done is done. Let’s talk about your new job. These people will pay you a little, and will house and feed you. That’ll make your money last longer. Every farthing helps when it comes to money, believe me.’

  ‘So I’ve found.’

  ‘You’ll have to share a bedroom with the other children, I suppose, but there are only two of them and they’re well brought up little boys. We can hang a blanket across the room to give you privacy. Or no … maybe they can go in with their father? Yes, that’d be better. I’ll suggest it to him. The boys will comfort him and he’ll comfort them.’

  ‘I’d rather the baby came to me here,’ Cara repeated.

  Mrs Sealey folded her arms and looked at her sternly. ‘You can’t afford to be proud. Pull yourself together, girl! I’m offering you help and you’re just sitting around like an old wash rag. You can’t hide in this room for ever.’

  ‘I don’t know why you even bother with me. I’m a fallen woman now, aren’t I?’

  ‘No, you’re not. I know your aunt and I’ve come to know you. We both believe your side of the story. But you do have to make a new life for yourself. And you can do it, I know you can.’

  Cara swallowed hard, still feeling overwhelmed.

  ‘Come on. Let’s get you dressed neatly, then we’ll go and meet the family. Deagan, that’s their name. There are thousands worse off than you. That baby’s mother, for one. She’s dead, and only thirty years old. You’re still alive.’

  And Cara let Mrs Sealey, who had been so kind to her, bully her into clean clothes and take her outside for the first time since the birth two days previously.

  The sun was bright and she blinked, dazzled by it.

  ‘Hurry up, will you? I haven’t got all day.’

  Cara set off. One foot in front of the other, she thought wearily. That’s how you walked. Even when you didn’t care about getting there.

  The bereaved family lived in a terrace of bigger houses than the one Cara had been living in for the past few months, and these houses were all in much better repair. Mrs Sealey had told her Mr Deagan was assistant to one of the engineers at the Swindon Railway Works and this house showed that he was doing well.

  She’d had only a tiny attic room for the past few months, with a privy across the communal back yard and a tap next to the back door. Mr Deagan had a whole house for his family and there were private yards behind each of these houses.

  Taking a deep breath, she followed the midwife inside.

  ‘I’ve brought you a wet nurse, Mrs Grady. This is Cara Payton. Her baby was stillborn two days ago. She’s a widow. She has plenty of milk, so she can feed little Niamh, but she’ll need housing. And paying, too, of course.’

  Alana Grady studied the young woman, who looked wan and weary, but healthy enough. If she’d lost her own baby, no wonder she looked sad. ‘What happened to your husband, dear?’

  ‘An accident at the railway works—’ Mrs Sealey began.

  ‘I won’t lie to them,’ Cara said, staring defiantly at Mrs Grady. ‘I was attacked by a man as I walked home from the shops at dusk. I was too ashamed to tell anyone. And then … I found I was expecting a child. I didn’t even know what was happening to me. My mother had to tell me. My father threw me out, said I was a fallen woman now and he wouldn’t have me or my bastard under his roof.’

  Alana looked at Mrs Sealey, not sure what to say to this.

  The midwife went to put her arm round the girl. At twenty-two and so unused to the ways of the world, she seemed a mere girl to her. ‘I know Cara’s aunt. She and I believe the girl about the attack, so we’ve helped her as best we can. But with the baby dead and the money running out, Cara needs to earn her daily bread.’

  There was a wailing cry from the corner of the room and they all looked across at the squirming bundle.

  The baby continued to cry and Cara moved slowly across the room, as if she was sleepwalking.

  Mrs Sealey held Alana’s arm and shook her head, mouthing, ‘Let her.’

  Cara stared down into the drawer they were using as a cradle. The baby was tiny, smaller than her poor dead baby, even. It looked sad and lost as it wept for sustenance. Its distress touched her heart as nothing else had done since the attack all those months ago – nothing except her own child’s death, that was.

  She bent down instinctively to pick up the infant and comfort it. ‘There now. There.’ As she cradled it against her, it stopped crying and stared up at her, blinking as if the light from the kitchen window hurt its eyes.

  The light hurt her eyes too, because they were sore and swollen from weeping.

  She turned to face the two older women. ‘If I can save this baby’s life, I will. It’ll bring good out of evil, at least.’

  She waited, rocking the baby slightly, an instinctive action which seemed to soothe it.

  The midwife nodded. ‘Very well. Let’s see if we can get her to feed. Let me help you unbutton your bodice.’

  Cara looked round, blushing. ‘Here? What if someone comes in?’

  It was the blush which made Alana’s mind up. Suddenly she too believed the girl’s story. ‘We’ll go into the front room. I’ll make sure no one else disturbs us.’

  ‘I’ll show you how to do it,’ Mrs Sealey said in her usual brisk tone.

  Exposing her body to a complete stranger was a further humiliation to Cara. But when the baby began tugging desperately at her breast, when the milk started to flow, so did her own tears. But this time they were tears of hope and healing.

  She looked at the midwife. ‘I really might be able to save her life, mightn’t I?’

  ‘Nothing’s certain with babies that small, dear, but you can give her a chance, the only chance she’s likely to get.’ And that child can save you, too, Mrs Sealey thought, but didn’t say that.

  By the time Fergus came home from making arrangements to bury his wife, the two older women had settled everything between them.

  Cara was to stay in the Gradys’ house with the baby until after the funeral, then the boys would move into their father’s bedroom,
and the Gradys would move their things to Fergus’s house, into the front room downstairs, leaving Cara and the baby with the back bedroom.

  Mr Deagan was introduced to the wet nurse, but he hardly glanced at Cara. He didn’t attempt to look at the baby, either, which made the two older women exchange worried glances.

  Had Mr Deagan taken against the child because of his wife’s death? Cara wondered. If so, she was sorry for the poor little creature. It wasn’t her business what he did, though. She was there for the baby.

  She turned her attention back to Niamh. Already the baby seemed right in her arms. She felt like a woman just waking from a nightmare. And best of all, she wasn’t on her own any longer.

  Maybe if she saved the child, it would make her feel clean again and she’d find hope of making a decent life afterwards.

  But she never wanted to see her father again. Never as long as she lived. Her mother hadn’t even tried to stand up to him, and neither her brother nor her sister had got in touch with her, though they were only living a mile away.

  She’d never treat a child as her family had treated her.

  The Paytons weren’t the respectable, upright Christians people thought. They were bigots, Pharisees, telling everyone how good they were, but not even looking after their own daughter when she was in trouble through no fault of her own.

  Every time she thought of that, Cara was torn between anger and sorrow.

  2

  The first night she had charge of Niamh, Cara spent more time awake than asleep. She kept jerking out of a brief slumber, listening for the baby’s little snuffling breaths, her heart pounding till she heard them, because she was terrified something would go wrong.

  Mrs Sealey had given her some hints about what to do, but had repeated privately that a baby so tiny might die for no reason anyone could work out, and if so, Cara wasn’t to blame herself.

  Mrs Grady was very kind. She’d thanked Cara for her help with tears in her eyes and made her comfortable in the rear bedroom at their house. ‘I’ve left a lamp burning low, so that there will be light for you to do what’s needed. But if you need anything else, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me. It must all be very strange to you.’