First of all a great big THANKYOU to everyone who is hanging in there I know it has been a while.

Most Importantly THANKYOU to Happyheart2 whose review made me want to add to the story again. :D x

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Chapter 7

Charles January 1879

Age 18

It had been just over sixth months since he had stepped out with Betty, it seemed so strange to be courting, he never thought a self respecting women would walk out with a showman but here she was. He was so grateful for her, she always knew what to say, always knew how to make him feel better and never judged him. He remembered last christmas and shuddered thinking what might of happened if Betty had not been there for him.

Dec 1878 He had sent a customary card to his mother along with his Christmas bonus with the hope she may use it to visit him and Betty for Christmas, only to receive a letter three days after not in his mother's hand.

Dear Charles,

This is Mrs Davidson from your home village, I feel I must write to you for your mother's sake. We as a community hardly ever see her and when we do the once strong women has faded to a ghost. I don't like to pry, and know it's hardly my place to interfere but is there a chance you could visit her? She will not listen to us and if she does not get out of the house soon we feel she may not survive much longer, I have seen street children with more fat on their bones. I hope you can and talk some sense into her.

Yours Sincerely

Mrs A. Davidson

He had travelled up to Yorkshire almost instantly with a rushed note left for Betty, when he had arrived at his former home it looked derelict. His mother's face was one of shock when she saw him walk up the path,

"Charles you should not have come" hugging him fiercely instantly negating her words.

"I had to see you, I have had no letter for almost four months now, I was worried for you" Charles had hug her back almost able to feel her ribs through her corset.

"Oh my Darling, you shouldn't worry about little old me" Leading him in to the once shining house, now just the bare minimum with an unwelcoming air to it, it nearly broke him. Then he heard the thud from the doorway.

"Look what the cat dragged in, back are you? Unable to make anything of yourself in London?" Ernst slurred all of his words looking drawn and bloodshot, holding the doorframe to stay upright.

"Well I certainly didn't come to see you" Charles turned away and looked back at his mother.

"You ungrateful little bastard after all I have done for you" He took a lurching step forward with a menacing look on his face, Charles was using all of his self control not to respond.

"Don't talk to my boy like that Ernst" His mother was visibly shaking as she said it.

"And you don't tell me what to do you useless bitch, can't even bring enough money in for me to survive" Ernst spat at his mother and that was the red rag to the bull for Charles, it only took four steps for him to grab Ernst by the collar and have him pinned against the wall.

"I am going to make a few things clear you pathetic little man, and you WILL listen to them" It was still a miracle to Charles how he hadn't punched the snivelling man yet, "One, you did nothing for me I lost my place at a grammar school working my backside off because you lost your job and left all of the income to my mother then you chuck me out at sixteen".

"HOW DARE YOU! ..." Charles just raised his voice and spoke over him.

"Two my mother is the most fantastic women and you don't deserve her, you played on her kind heart and deeply religious beliefs to make your way into the household, you then beat her for no reason and treat her like she is nothing" He was slowly building himself into a rage, "Three you don't deserve any attention you sit and drink all day doing BLOODY NOTHING, you then have the audacity to complain about your situation, well let me tell you Ernst Chapman scum of the earth, you will NOT HURT MY MOTHER AGAIN, YOU WILL GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE AND NEVER RETURN, AND IF I SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN I WILL KILL YOU" Charles finished breathing deeply and glaring at the dumbfounded man in his hands he dropped him and walked to his mother who was in a state of shock. Until he felt a a firework of pain on his left temple, Charles span round his fist connecting with Ernst's jaw, he stumbled backwards from the blow and fell his head hitting the table with a resounding thunk. Charles could only stare he had never hit someone before, he didn't know what to do, he didn't expect that to happen, his mother ran forward and stemmed the blood flow, checking for a pulse.

"Charles get some help, QUICKLY"

Everything had then passed in a blur, running to get Dr. Thomas, Ernst coming round, the police arriving being bundled into the cart, his mother crying, sitting in a cell and explaining to a detective what happened, to be released on a caution, he found his mother waiting outside.

"He is going to be fine Charles, the alcohol apparently has done him more harm he won't be released from hospital for a while" it was only then he realised he was outside York Prison, the tears flowed freely down her face.

"I … I am sorry mother I didn't mean to... it was an accident" He couldn't find the right words.

"I know my boy, I know thank you for speaking up for me, you sounded like your father, it was quite scary actually" He met her eyes to see no anger or disappointment only pride, he managed a small smile. "Now go back to your girl and make me proud"

He hadn't gone straight back to London he decided to stay a few days, he had to stay at the pub as he was not allowed near the house or Ernst again, his mother had promised him that she would be fine. He should of stayed with her though, Ernst had returned to the house drugged up to the heavens, the day after he had fallen down the stairs pulling Rose with him. He had broken his neck on impact at the bottom and Rose with her fragile body had suffered several broken ribs he remembers arriving at the house, after his mother had not visited him that day, and seeing his mother lying there on the floor, He broke down from all of the emotion of the past few days, the fear of maybe killing a man, to his anger, to his shame, to his despair of seeing his mother laid there. She was taken to hospital in a serious condition, Betty had rushed up the minute she received his telegram.

"Charles oh my god" Betty pulled him into a rib crushing hug, he had hugged back glad of her warmth and familiarity, "The telegram you sent was sparse is she going to be alright?"

"Apparently,... she has woken up, but her ribs are still mending..." he broke down again sinking into a nearby chair the tears rolling down his cheeks "I should of stayed with her Betty, made sure he didn't return like I told her I would, Now look at her in the hospital bed hurt by him again, I should of been protecting her, looking after her, not dancing on some stage in London with no self respect, and no future". Betty had just sat in front of him holding his hands listening intently.

"You did everything you could Charles if you had stayed in those early days he would of only have hurt you more, it gave you mother piece of mind to know you were safe" she had thought intently for the right words "You can't protect a women who does not want to be protected nor save one from her situation, if you had gone back to the house the police would have wrongly blamed you for Ernst's death due to the other incident".

She had wiped away his tears holding his face in her hands, "You have the greatest amount of self respect of any man I know Charles Carson, you are not a petty criminal as many men in your situation would have chosen, you have a honest job, and as for a future we can find one together, I promise my love"

Her comforting words had pulled him from his self made pool of guilt and shame, but the way to the light wasn't clear yet his mother had died suddenly in her sleep that same night, 23rd December 1878. He had felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest, the hole filled with despair like there was no way back. Betty had sat there night after night just holding him, through his sadness and tears, listening to his stories of better times. His mother had liked Betty instantly that short time in which she had met her saying "Look after my boy", he was glad of her blessing especially when they buried her.

He was laid down now almost a month after with Betty in his arms her hair falling like a red river over his chest, her breaths coming out sweetly and even, the pain still as fresh as a knife cut. He was reading the job section of the newspaper, looking for a job that did not require qualifications. Betty had suggested the army but after his two month national service back before he met her had put him off for life. Then a small advertisement had caught his eye Wanted : Male persons for work in the service, must have a respectable personality and appearance, position will depend on interview and experience, reference required. Mr Roberts, Eaton House, Cambridge. He stared intently at it, his reference from school was good enough and the army had given him a glowing report when he had left there was no chance Harry would give him a reference, but a well written letter scripted by Betty might just get him there. He felt a glow the service that was respectable and he could work up the ranks and be respected by his peers, he glance at the empty bed where Griggs normally slept, at the pub again loosing all of his money. Charles was sure Griggs and Harry were up to something illegal he just couldn't put his finger on it, anyway he thought holding Betty closer it wasn't his main worry at the moment getting a job at Eaton Place was.

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