Free Seasons of Love by Anna Jacobs

had not, Helen noticed, even looked at Harry, let alone said anything to him. But it would be no use pointing that out. You couldn't force a man to love his son.
    ‘I think I've done rather well for us.’ He began to tick the items off on his fingers. ‘First, I've found us some lodgings. Two rooms, so that Master Harry can have his own sleeping place - or I can. Whichever we decide.’
    ‘How nice!’
    He didn’t even notice the sarcasm in her voice. ‘ And I've found you some work. Same as before. Sewing costumes and all that.’
    She stiffened. ‘How kind of you!’ He was supposed to have been looking for work for himself. And what was she to do with Harry while she worked?
    He appeared quite unaware of her anger. ‘I thought you'd be pleased. Now you'll be able to hoard your pennies again.’
    ‘Will I?’ And for how long would she be allowed to keep them? He was avoiding her eyes, which meant he had something to hide.
    ‘And finally, best of all, I've heard of a couple of chances for me. My friends think it suits me to have lost some weight. It can only be a matter of time before I pick up a good part. With a better theatre company this time. The Marlborough was a bit run-down and Roxanne was well past her best. A more skilful whore than actress, she was.’
    Helen dug her fingers into her palms. He was deliberately goading her. In this mood, he was like a boy tormenting a puppy, or pulling the wings off a fly.
    ‘But you've found nothing definite for yourself?’ she pursued.
    ‘My dear girl, after only one day back in town? No one is that lucky! You have to meet people. Show yourself around. That sort of thing. Which reminds me, do I have a clean shirt?’
    ‘Yes.’ She got it out without speaking and when he pulled a face at its wrinkled condition, she set her hands on her hip and looked him straight in the eyes, daring him to say anything.
    He didn't. The victory was small, but it gave her some satisfaction.
    When she’d packed their things, he summoned a cab to take them across London to their new lodgings. The vehicle smelt of unwashed bodies and mouldy straw, but she didn’t comment on that. Looking out of the window, she was amazed at how many people there were and how the streets went on and on with no greenery to be seen.
    As the journey progressed Robert cheered up, for she kept asking questions about the places they passed and he clearly enjoyed the feeling of superiority as he explained them to her.
    When she saw the lodgings, she was unstinting in her praise. Here, Robert had done well for them. A pleasant landlady, who picked up Harry for a cuddle. And two rooms as well as use of the small garden. One room was hardly bigger than a cupboard, but it was large enough for Harry, and as it abutted the kitchen chimney, it was warm, too. This proved a godsend, because April blew in cold and windy, coal was expensive and Robert still had no regular work.
    Helen, however, had work in plenty, mending and altering the costumes for the New Moon Theatre, a nasty little place which produced melodramas so like each other that the same costumes could be used again and again, as long as they were kept mended, retrimmed from time to time, and altered as necessary to fit the constantly changing leading ladies. To her relief the landlady was happy to mind Harry for a shilling or two more.
    Helen soon found out that the theatre also acted as a place of encounter for a better class of prostitute than those who haunted the street corners. The actresses themselves were much in demand with the patrons, but when she complained of that to Robert, he stared at her as if she had lost her wits.
    ‘What the hell does that matter? You earn your money honestly, don't you? No one's asking you to go a-whoring.’ He tittered as if the mere idea of anyone paying for her services was ludicrous in the extreme.
    ‘But - ’
    ‘Anyway, you're not that much better than them, if it comes to that.’
    She gasped, so shocked at