The Wronged Daughter

The Wronged Daughter

Mary Wood

Contents

PART ONE: Blackburn and London, 1920–21

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

PART TWO: Blackburn, 1921

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

PART THREE: London, Blackburn and Portpatrick, 1921

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

PART FOUR: Portpatrick and Blackburn, 1924–25

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

EPILOGUE: France, 1926

Chapter Thirty-Four

Letter to Readers

Acknowledgements

To my hubby, Roy.

Without you I could not achieve all I do.

You are my strength.

PART ONE

Blackburn and London, 1920–21

Mags and Harold

Uncertainties Mar Happiness

Chapter One

Mags held on to the back of the chair and stared across at the doctor. What he was saying didn’t seem possible. Not my dear mother? No. Mother has always been strong.

‘I’m sorry, but there’s only tender loving care that can be given, to ease her passing. I can arrange for a nurse to come and stay. She will administer oxygen, when needed, and the medication that I shall prescribe. But I’m afraid Belinda’s weak heart is rapidly failing her.’

Weak heart? When did Mother ever have a weak heart?

As Mags watched her father shake the doctor’s hand, the thought rushed through her that he had changed, too. His back was no longer ramrod-straight, and his hair, which had been greying at the temples, was now almost white. Why hadn’t she ever noticed how heavily he leaned on his stick?

Suddenly the part of her world that had always felt safe was crumbling. Life here in her beloved Blackburn was lived at a slow pace, even if for the most part she was kept busy running the mill. Always she was surrounded by familiar things, and by people she’d grown up with. Now a big part of that – her family life – was being threatened.

‘Margaret, the doctor is leaving. Where are your manners?’

‘No, Herbert, don’t admonish her. Margaret has had a shock. You should have told her about her mother’s condition. I counselled both you and Belinda, many times over the years, to do so. I’m sorry, Margaret. I should have insisted that you were told and were therefore prepared for the fact that what is happening now has always been inevitable. Your mother has had a heart condition for a long time. It has been like an unexploded bomb. Anything could have triggered it to fail – and at any time. I’m sorry, truly sorry, but she only has days left to live.’

Mags shook her head. This wasn’t happening. How could she have missed the signs? Yes, Mother was frequently breathless, and her skin and lips often had a blue tinge, but she had said it was an asthmatic condition and was under control.