The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)

“Mercy but it’s a climb, isn’t it?” she said. “Are you sure you’ll be able to manage it?”


The room was indeed small with a sloping attic ceiling, but it was charming, and the open window caught the breeze from the river. The gauze curtains billowed out, revealing a superb view of sparkling water and the New Jersey shore on the far side. It was simply furnished with single bed with a handmade quilt on it, a writing desk in the window, a washing stand with a flowery china basin and jug, and a corner closet. But it was painted pale yellow and the wallpaper had blue irises on a yellow background. An all around cheerful room.

“It will do just fine,” I said. “I’ll take it. I’m not sure how long I’m staying yet.”

She named a very reasonable price and started to relate times of meals and house rules, then left us to spruce up before we went to find Sid and Gus. After asking a policeman and then a stallkeeper if they had seen two ladies, one of them with black-bobbed hair, carrying with them sketching equipment we found them easily enough, down at the river, at an area of green grass on the other side of the railroad tracks. Gus had set up an easel in the shade of a willow tree and was sketching Sid, who posed on a rock at the water’s edge, looking like a sleek, dark Lorelei. Gus cried out to Sid as she spotted us approaching and Sid almost fell into the water in her haste to join us.

“Well, here you are at last,” she said giving first Bridie and then me warm hugs. “We wondered when we were going to see you. We hoped you’d be here on Friday to welcome us. We didn’t like to call upon your mother-in-law without an invitation, knowing what a stickler she is for proper manners.”

“I couldn’t come sooner. Daniel was visiting this weekend,” I said. “In fact I was afraid I’d be stuck at the house even longer, but then he was summoned back to New York at the crack of dawn today.”

Gus gave me a wry smile. “That doesn’t sound like the devoted wife—couldn’t wait for her husband to leave?”

“Of course I enjoyed seeing him,” I said, “but it’s a relief to get away from my mother-in-law for a while.”

“That bad, is it?” Sid asked.

I was conscious of Bridie standing beside me, shyly hanging on to my skirt. “To be fair to Mrs. Sullivan, she is looking after me admirably. Spoiling me, in fact. But she won’t let me do anything and I’m chafing to get back to work.”

“Get back to work?” Gus said. “Molly, dear, what kind of work are you talking about? You’re not still trying to find your brother, are you?”

“No, I’m relieved to say that Daniel thinks he’s left the city,” I said. I glanced down at Bridie. “If you like you may take off your shoes and hose and play at the edge of the water,” I said. “And you’d better take off your clean pinafore too. We don’t want that to get dirty.”

I helped her out of them and she ran off delightedly, picking her way barefoot among the rocks. I turned back to my friends. “I didn’t want to mention this in Bridie’s hearing, but remember the other matter—the letter I showed you from the people in Ireland?”

“And you asked if we knew anyone called Mainwaring,” Gus looked at Sid for confirmation.

“I’ve located the Mainwarings,” I said. “They live out here, in Irvington.”

“In Irvington, fancy that,” Sid said. “And was your Irish lass working for them?”

“She was, until she got herself into trouble,” I said.

“That sort of trouble?” Sid asked.

I nodded. “Yes, that sort of trouble. So Mrs. Mainwaring sent her to a local convent…”

“Isn’t that a case of closing the stable door after the horse has bolted?” Sid said.

I had to laugh. “You didn’t let me finish. This convent takes in unmarried mothers and lets them stay until they have had their babies, then the nuns find adoptive families for the infants and the young women are able to come back into society.”

“Admirable,” Sid said.

Bridie gave a squeal as a big ship passed and its wash created a wave that splashed around the rocks.

“Careful,” I warned, noting that the hem of her skirt was now all wet. We watched her as she turned to give us an apologetic grin.

“But what if they want to keep their babies?” Gus said. “I know that I should find it hard to give up a child.”

“Gus, dear, you have money. That alters everything. Most of them would have nowhere to go with a child,” Sid said. “They’d be outcasts. Shunned by society, denied employment. And think of the stigma on the child to be known as a bastard all its life.”

Gus sighed. “I suppose that’s true,” she said. “It seems so unfair, doesn’t it? The man in question gets on with his life and the woman is ruined. When will our society ever accept equality and fairness for women?”