After Hours by Jenny Oldfield Page A

he’s done to you?’ Again Maurice was the one to give vent to a common feeling. ‘This is the one what left you in the cart, remember? Not so much as a by-your-leave, according to Jess here.’ He recalled the details of Annie’s story; how Wiggin had taken off during one of his regular trips to sea. He’d told Annie he’d be away for two or three weeks. Weeks turned into months and months into years, and not a penny, not a word did he send. She wore out his old boots, tramping up and down the court, scrimping and saving to get by, building up a life for herself by running her haberdashery stall on Duke Street market. She’d been abandoned, but she refused to let it beat her. Only after years of silent struggle did she give Wiggin up for dead and set her sights on the widowed landlord at the Duke. When Duke had eventually proposed marriage, Annie had her runaway husband officially declared missing at sea, presumed dead; only to having him turn up again now, doing his Ancient Mariner act.
    Now Annie felt it was her turn to speak. She touched Duke’s hand. ‘It ain’t that simple, Maurice. Yes, he left me in the lurch, I don’t say he didn’t. But it depends how you look at things. According to the law, and Duke and I have talked this one through, Willie and me is still married.’
    Sadie looked at Frances in alarm. Rob stood up and movedrestlessly round to the back of the group, out of his father’s gaze. The others stared wide-eyed or frowned at their own feet.
    â€˜But according to Ett, he don’t even know who you are!’ Frances intervened. ‘How can you still consider yourself married to him?’
    Annie ploughed on. ‘It’s not me. It’s the law, Frances. Ask Billy, he’ll tell you the same thing as me. Anyhow, I ain’t that hard-hearted. I gotta find the poor bloke a roof over his head, whatever he done. You all see that, don’t you?’ She pleaded for their understanding. ‘Duke seen it straight off!’
    Jess came up and took Mo gently from her, stooping to kiss her cheek. ‘Poor Annie,’ she said. She carried the boy back to her own chair.
    â€˜Thanks, Jess.’ Annie sniffed into her handkerchief. ‘And your pa has told me he won’t hold me to vows that ain’t legal no more. He says I can go.’ Her voice trembled, her hands shook, a solitary figure in her big fireside chair.
    â€˜Not to Wiggin!’ Sadie’s outrage broke through.
    Ernie heard Annie’s last words with dawning dread. Slowly the picture of how things might change formed inside his head. He wandered out on to the landing and sat at the head of the stairs, frowning at the wall.
    Annie shook her head. ‘No, I ain’t never going back with him. There’s no law says I have to be his wife again, as far as I know; only the one saying I can’t be your pa’s no more.’
    â€˜More’s the pity.’ Frances looked up at Billy. She knew what Annie and Duke must have gone through to reach this decision.
    â€˜Pity is right,’ Annie said. ‘Anyhow, the plan is, I’ll move my bits and pieces out of here this evening, back down the court to my old house.’ She moved swiftly on. ‘I’ll need a hand from you, Rob, to carry my trunk in your cab. And I’ll need plenty of elbow grease to get the old place shipshape again. Where’s Ernie? Grace, sweetheart, you run and find him and ask if he’ll sort out the rats in the cellar like he used to.’
    Her enforced cheerfulness drove Hettie to tears. She’d prayed all morning in church for this not to happen; Annie having to moveout, down to her dusty, deserted house in the corner of Paradise Court.
    â€˜Don’t take on, Ett. Ain’t nobody died yet, is there?’ Annie couldn’t bear it if good, strong Hettie broke down. She spotted Ernie drift back into the room, gazing uncertainly from her to his