In the bitter cold of a Yorkshire winter, a shivering, barefoot, pregnant woman knocked at the door. Inside the cottage the fire crackled softly in the stove, a favourite serial drama played on the small television, and outside a blizzard howled. Margaret, an elderly lady who had once been the village nurse, settled into her worn armchair, watching the film while stroking her cat Whiskers, who had curled into a ball on her lap.
Suddenly the window was battered, then the front gate was pounded. Toby, the family terrier, let out a bark so fierce it seemed to split the air, and then everything fell silent.
Who could be out in such weather? Margaret wondered, pulling on her woollen slippers and coat before stepping out to see, and perhaps fetch some firewood.
She trudged through the snowdrifts to the gate, opened it, and froze. In the freezing wind, clinging to a low fence, stood a young woman barely dressed in a nightshirt, barefoot, with a knitted shawl tossed over her shoulders. Her belly was round, unmistakably pregnant.
With a trembling voice she whispered, Please! Dont drive me away. They want to take my child. She begged.
There was no time for thought. Margaret hurried the girl inside, wrapped her in a coat, and muttered, God forgive me! Who would have the heart to cast a pregnant woman out into this frost? She knew, from her days as a nurse, the dangers of such exposure.
She heated water, tended the womans frozen feet, rubbed them with warm water, then with a cloth soaked in spirit, offered hot tea with raspberry jam, and let her lie down. She asked nothing, for the morning is wiser than the night, as the old saying went.
The girl fell asleep at once, murmuring a quiet Thank you. All through the night the village seemed restlesspeople shouted, carts rattled, lamps flickered.
Eleanor awoke to the scent of fried eggs on bacon and fresh scones. Her unborn child shifted uneasily. She slipped from under the blankets and found a warm dressing gown and soft slippers waiting by the bed. The feeling was like being back at her grandmothers farm, far from the harsh reality outside.
Margaret busied herself in the kitchen, laying a plate of golden pancakes before Eleanor, and said gently, Come, dear, wash up and have breakfast. The babys surely hungry. Then you can tell us who you are and what has happened to you.
After a hearty meal, Eleanor began her tale:
I grew up an orphan in a childrens home. I never knew my parents. Until I was five, my grandmother, Mrs. Vera, cared for me; she loved me, but she died, and I returned to the home. After leaving school I was given a council flat and trained as a teacher. At a local dance I met a very wealthy young manSimon. All the girls stared at him, but he chose me. He was ten years older, owned a house in the nearby hamlet, his father a big landowner. He courted me with flowers, took me to the cinema, and I fell utterly in love. Everyone envied me, saying Id snagged a prize catch. When he looked at me, the world seemed to tilt.
We lived together in his house. At first everything was fine, but when I discovered I was pregnant, his temper changed. He began to drink early, to curse, to abuse. Two weeks ago he brought another girl home and made sport of her in front of me. I was devastated. I packed my things and decided to leave him. He snarled, Where do you think youre going? Youll stay here, bear my child, and then Ill cast you aside. Youll never see your son! He locked me in a room, ordered a maid to bring me food, and I wept and begged. Yesterday the maid, Inga, finally unlocked the door. I fled, running as fast as my legs would carry me, until I reached your cottage. Thank you, she sobbed.
Margarets eyes softened. Good heavens, could it really be so? What will you do now?
Eleanor replied, I dont know. Please dont turn me away. Simon will take the baby after delivery and then leave me. Im nothingno wife, no family, just an orphan. I might end my life, I swear.
Dont think like that, Margaret urged. My son Graham is the local constable; hell be back from his patrol soon. Perhaps you can tell him your story, and hell help.
Graham trudged home from his shift, his mind heavy with thoughts of lifes unfairness. He had recently split with his wife, Irene, who despised his modest police salary and wanted him to quit and join her in a glamorous business life. She left him for a wealthy businessman and moved abroad, leaving Graham back with his mother. He now believed women were driven by selfinterest.
Entering the cottage, he called, Hello, Mum! and headed to the kitchen, where the aroma of something delicious greeted his hunger.
Son, meet our guest, Margaret said, This is Eleanor. Shes in trouble. Could you listen and perhaps think of a way to help?
Eleanor, pale as a startled doe, stood with large, tearfilled blue eyes framed by thick lashes, long wheatgold hair twisted into a simple knot, and a swollen belly that seemed to glow with vulnerability. She whispered, Please dont turn me over to them.
Graham was shocked, his heart breaking at her plight. He could not imagine leaving her in such danger. Well keep you here for now, he said, Ill go into town, buy you warm clothes, and use my contacts to find out who this Simon fellow is and retrieve your belongings.
Through his police colleagues Graham learned that Alexander Mallorya rich son of a prominent local businessmanwas indeed the man Eleanor spoke of. Rumours swirled that his familys enterprises were tangled with illegal dealings, perhaps even drugs, though evidence was scarce. Graham decided to confront him.
He arrived at the Mallory estate and knocked. A smoothlooking young man emerged, leaning against the doorframe.
Who are you? the young man asked brusquely.
Im Inspector Graham, the local constable, Graham replied. I need to speak with you about Eleanor K., who you have detained and stripped of her documents and clothes.
The young man sneered, Ah, that little whimpering girl! Shes of no use to me. Ill take her child and be done with her. Who promised her a baby, anyway?
Grahams temper flared. It is illegal to confiscate a child from its mother without consent!
The young man laughed, My father controls the whole district! She gets nothing but a child for me to toy with!
Enraged, Graham threatened to expose the Mallory familys illicit business unless the girls possessions and her baby were returned. The young man barked, Take it on yourself then!
Undeterred, Graham approached the Mallory patriarch, presenting a dossier of incriminating evidence he had gathered over a month. He handed the documents to the businessman, who, after a moment of contemplation, sighed, Very well. Ill see to it that Eleanors things are returned and that the child is protected. I have no desire for further trouble.
Graham rushed back, his heart racing. He entered the cottage to find Eleanor at the kitchen table, shaping pastry dough, flour dusting her nose, her hair escaping her bun in a playful mess. He smiled, Eleanor, youre safe now. Tomorrow you can move back to your own place. Ive spoken to the Mallorys and theyll return everything.
She burst into tears, hugging him tightly, Thank you, Graham, Ill be grateful forever! I thought Id never get out.
Margaret interjected, But how will she survive alone with a child and no work?
Graham answered, Well look for any relatives she might havebrothers, sisters, anyone.
Together they traced Eleanors history, contacting the old orphanage, finding the name of her grandmother, and piecing together a family tree. The revelations stunned them all. Margaret, looking at the old photographs, gasped, She looks just like my sister, Verasame eyes, same hair. I think she might be related after all.
Graham, stunned, whispered, Could we be cousins?
Margaret, tears streaming, replied, Perhaps, dear. The Lord works in mysterious ways.
The truth settled like a quiet tide. Eleanor eventually gave birth to a healthy boy, Samuel, and moved into a modest flat of her own. On weekends she visited her aunt, where Margaret delighted in rocking the baby and singing lullabies.
Graham, however, seemed a changed man. He grew thin, withdrew, and took to drinking more often. He avoided looking at Eleanor, his heart still torn between love and duty. Eleanor, whenever their eyes met, would blush and look away, understanding the impossibility of their romance even as her heart ached.
Margaret, who had kept the secret of Eleanors lineage for years, finally confessed one evening as she tucked Samuel in on the veranda. She opened an old chest, let tears fall, and told Graham, I never meant to hide this from you, my son. I feared youd abandon me if you learned the truth. I adopted you after your mother died in childbirth, and I kept it secret. Forgive me.
Graham fell to his knees, embraced his mother, and whispered, Thank you, Mother. I love you.
Eleanor, stunned, could scarcely speak. Graham, gathering his courage, took her hand and said, From the moment I saw you, I fell in love. Though we cannot be together, will you marry me? I will raise Samuel as my own.
She whispered, I will. Their future, once shrouded in darkness, now seemed bright. The horrors of the past receded, and a hopeful tomorrow stretched before them.
