Fallen Grace - Mary Hooper [89]
‘She should never have done it,’ Grace repeated in a whisper.
‘No, she should not,’ Violet agreed.
Walking on, they reached the edge of Russell Square and entered a street with attractive, white-painted villas, vines and greenery climbing about their fronts. Violet beckoned Grace to follow her down a small alleyway. ‘She knew it was wrong. But she told me to find you and tell you, and let you make up your own mind about what to do. She left me a confession which is signed and witnessed and would stand up in court. It would be possible for you to claim your child back, and I promised her that if that’s what you wanted, I would aid you.’
So saying, she stopped by the iron railings which enclosed someone’s back garden and gave a view into a nursery: a splendid room with painted ships on the walls, a rocking horse and building bricks scattered about. In this room a woman – Mrs Robinson – could be seen, carrying a child about seven months old on her hip. The child – a boy – was bonny, sturdy of limb and robust with health. Grace uttered a little cry, and then gazed at him with such love that it seemed she might draw him to her side by the sheer force of her affection.
‘I hoped we might see him,’ Violet said. ‘My mother used to come this way in the mornings sometimes just to look at him, to prove to herself that she’d done the right thing. He’s a child who is very much loved and wanted by his family.’
Grace gave a sudden cry. ‘Then . . . who was it I took to Brookwood Cemetery?’ she asked in distress. ‘Was it someone else’s dead child?’
The corners of Violet’s mouth lifted a little. ‘No,’ she said, ‘it was a penny loaf.’
‘A penny loaf?’
Violet nodded. ‘Mother said it was about the right weight and shape.’ She could not prevent a smile then. ‘So whoever’s coffin you chose has a loaf of bread to see them through to paradise.’
Grace turned towards the nursery window and continued staring at the child, now seated on the floor with his mother, playing with the bricks. She could indeed see that he was greatly loved, and loved back in return.
She sighed deeply. There would be much to think about in the coming months and many decisions to be made; about finding somewhere to live, about doing the best she could for Lily, about choosing what she was going to do with her life, and about what might happen between her and James. This was one decision, however, that she didn’t have to think about.
‘I would not take him away,’ she said to Violet, her eyes still on the baby. ‘I couldn’t do such a thing.’
Violet turned to her. ‘That’s what I so hoped you’d say. But are you quite sure? You don’t have to make the decision now.’
‘I am sure.’ Grace nodded. ‘I don’t need any more time. It would be cruel to take him away, and break at least three hearts.’
Violet, who had tears in her eyes, took Grace’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I’m sure you have made a good decision, and the right one.’
‘I don’t want my child to learn about heartbreak so early in his life,’ continued Grace.
‘I don’t think you’ll ever regret it,’ said Violet, keeping hold of Grace’s hand.
‘But sometimes, perhaps, you and I can come for a walk down here and . . .’
‘Admire the gardens!’
‘Yes, admire the gardens,’ Grace echoed.
The two girls looked at each other, and then Violet offered her arm and they walked on.
x
Some Historical Notes from the Author
The Brookwood Necropolis Railway
The cholera epidemic in London in the late 1840s resulted in nearly 15,000 deaths and greatly increased the problem of burial in the capital. The disposal of London’s dead had been a problem for some time with church graveyards becoming so overcrowded that plots had to be dug up and reused over and over again. Cremation not being an option in those days, the idea was mooted for a vast cemetery outside London which would provide a burial ground for Londoners for many years to come.
The site chosen in Surrey (far enough from London not to endanger the health of those in the capital) could be reached cheaply and conveniently only by railway. There were objections