A Step Too Far (32 page)

     ‘Hmph!’ Her sniff pure disparagement Nora retorted stonily, ‘Clark, Tom, Dick or ’Arry they be all the same, mark my words you let a man ’ave what brings ’im to market afore the ring be on the finger an’ it’ll be the wench as pays the price; you think on that Alice Butler an’ tell Becky Turner to think on it an’ all; remember an ounce o’ advice be better’n a ton o’ sympathy.’

     As Nora departed Alice called the all clear to Becky.

     ‘Christ, you look awful!’ Alice gasped. ‘Oh my God! You ’aven’t . . . ? Becky, you ain’t . . . ? Oh Lord, say you ain’t pregnant!’

     Her dark-circled eyes stark against an ashen face, Becky bent heaving over the basin.

     She was! Alice tried to think clearly. They both had their ‘monthly’ at the same time, it had been a sort of bond between them from its first occurring. That had scared the life out of both of them; their teacher had found them in the school toilets each crying they had some terrible disease, that they would be dead before ever seeing their mothers again. If only those mothers had forewarned, explained as that teacher had explained that what they were experiencing was perfectly natural and would happen every month, it was simply a part of growing up.

     ‘
It’ll be the wench as pays the price
.’

     Nora Bates’ words clanged loudly in Alice’s mind but were as loudly rejected. Becky would not have to pay, she and Earl were to be married. She stared at the girl still retching into the basin. But should Becky’s mother find out her daughter was pregnant then marriage, no matter how soon, would not save Becky from the woman’s anger; and neither would that anger be lessened should the news be passed around Prodor and halfway around Wednesbury before reaching her. Thank heaven they had both finished their shift. Grabbing her coat, she flung it over the other girl’s shoulder and dragged her out into the yard.

     When they were clear of the factory gates, making sure nobody was within hearing distance, she asked quietly, ‘How long?’

     Sobs rolling in her throat Becky choked, ‘Four weeks.’

     Alice calculated swiftly. Eight months left, that was ample time, Becky would be in America long before the birth she could swear happened prematurely.

     She shook the sobbing girl. ‘Becky, it’s okay, your mother need never know, you and Earl will be married.’

     Becky shook her head. ‘No,’ she cried, ‘no, we won’t be married.’

     Alice’s confusion settled on her brow. Becky and Earl not be married! Why? Hadn’t he said his Commanding Officer had granted the necessary permission? He had even told her they could go ahead whenever it suited her, so why now was Becky saying they wouldn’t be married?

     ‘You don’t understand, Alice, Earl and me won’t be marryin’. Earl is gone!’

     ‘Gone? You mean he’s been posted away from Cosford, sent to some other camp? Well, that don’t mean nothin’, he can be recalled or you can go to wherever it is they’ve sent him and get married there.’

     ‘No.’ Becky laughed a dull hopeless laugh which barely left her throat. ‘No, I can’t Alice, he has gone back to America, and even if I could follow him there, it wouldn’t do no good. Earl Feldman already has a wife.’

Placing the last of the letters her employer had signed into its envelope Katrin glanced at the inner office, the voices of the two men inside coming to her in a low uninterpretable hum.

     She had thought Isaac Eldon would have been imprisoned when it was discovered he and his grandson were in possession of maps denoting every steel mill, every iron foundry and every engineering works in Wednesbury, but that had not happened.

     Why? She stabbed the letter vexedly onto the finished pile, scattering the whole lot across the desk. The information she had given would have had to be investigated very quickly, yet nothing had come of it. Nothing? She snatched up the letters. Isaac Eldon had been presented to the King, how could an honour such as that have been managed when an allegation of treason had been made against him?

     There had been more to that day than handshakes and a tour of the factory, why else would Eldon have left the workshop minutes before the Royals? Why had he slipped away moments after being spoken to by a dark-suited official? Her father had of course been presented, he also had accompanied the King to explain the intricacies of Finished Cavity Forgings, yet no man had come to speak quietly with him, he had not been called away. What was it had Eldon treated differently to her father when both were equally involved in that project? But with the tour completed he had come to stand with her, had remained at her side while the King, Queen and their be-medalled gold-braided attendants had, to the cheers of the workers, proceeded out into the yard.

     But they had not immediately left the premises.

     Resentment kindled by suspicion flared a hot trail.

     She and her father had followed from the factory but there had been brought to a halt. The cars which had brought the visitors were still in the yard but there were no people other than chauffeurs and police guards. The company must have gone into the office block, to the room Arthur Whitman had been so anxious to have completed in readiness for that Royal visit. Dining room and boardroom, that had been a cover for what it was really meant for!

     But what other purpose had it served that afternoon? Prevented from returning to her own office by an apologetic policeman, she could only guess, but it was not guesswork as to who it was she had seen cross the ground at the rear of the factory.

     The afternoon had been deceptively bright, the sun giving the illusion of warmth while in reality it masked a coldness, a chill in the air which had her shiver. Her father had said he must return to his work at Titan and that she should wait inside the works, stay warm until things returned to normal. But she had not wanted to be in any workshop, the factory was not the place for Katrin Hawley; so she had stood until the deepening chill had her walk halfway around the building. It was then, just before she was turned back by yet another policeman, she had seen two figures.

     They had been walking away from Prodor toward the canal towpath which bordered the building. She had glimpsed them from the rear, one a little taller his flat cap and light brown foreman’s smock signifying a workman whose slight stoop to the shoulders attested to his being so much older than the shorter figure. The shorter figure! She had mused on that. Had it been a lad enquiring after employment in readiness for leaving school, a lad being turned away in respect of those very important visitors? But then would it not have been one of the police officers who prevented that youngster entering the works, as she had been prevented entering the offices?

     Instinct solidified into certainty as the hum of conversation within Whitman’s office ceased, he and Isaac Eldon coming out.

     It was Eldon she had seen going toward the towpath, Eldon and his grandson!

     But why leave the back way? Why the secrecy?

     Whatever it was, something had brought the boy to meet the King.

     Both of them should rightfully be locked away, the man in jail and the boy in a secure Borstal institution, yet instead they had been rewarded, given the privilege of meeting Royalty.

     How? Who had pulled the strings to clear them of an accusation of treason?

     The Devil takes care of his own! The Devil was Isaac Eldon’s guard and protector. The river of fire raging in Katrin turned rapidly to ice in her brain.

     Guards and protectors, even the very best of them sometimes had their attention drawn away. But hers would not be diverted. Katrin Hawley’s concentration and all of her detestation would remain centred on Isaac Eldon and each of his family until it destroyed them.

     Letters scooped again into a neat pile, Katrin looked up at the young woman whose progress had been halted by the departing Eldon.

     ‘I ’ave to see Kate . . . Miss Hawley, I would ’ave asked you, Mr Eldon, could I take a minute off but you wasn’t in the machine shop nor any place else I looked.’

     ‘There’ll be time for talkin’ after work.’

     ‘But there won’t, Mr Eldon.’ Alice Butler shook her head. ‘I be on the two ’til ten shift as you know and Kate won’t want me goin’ to see her that late at night.’

     Obviously having heard the somewhat agitated voice, Arthur Whitman had come to the door of his own office.

     ‘Is something wrong?’ He looked from Isaac to the girl not yet allowed to pass.

     ‘No.’ Isaac’s reply was terse. ‘It be one o’ the girls wantin’ to see Kat . . . Miss Hawley, but like I’ve said there be a time for talkin’ an’ that time don’t be durin’ work hours.’

     ‘Please, Mr Whitman, it’ll take no more than a couple of minutes and I’ll work through my tea break to make up for them.’

     Meeting the pleading glance, Arthur Whitman smiled. ‘Of course I will not override Mr Eldon should he insist you do not . . . er . . . transpose . . . a few minutes of your work time, but I am sure he will act as he sees fit.’

     Recognising a nod was as good as a wink, and warning that five minutes was all Alice could have, Isaac left.

     ‘Eh Kate, I had to come.’ Alice crossed to stand at Katrin’s desk. ‘It be Becky.’

     Becky? Placing the letters in the outgoing post tray Katrin frowned. What could be so important that Alice had come bounding in here?

     ‘Her and Earl, they ain’t gettin’ married.’

     ‘But it is all arranged, he has had permission and also clearance from the United States, hasn’t he?’

     ‘Ar.’ Alice nodded agreement.

     ‘Then why the delay?’

     ‘It ain’t no delay to that weddin’, it be a definite ending of it.’

     ‘Alice, how can it be ended when it has not yet been performed?’

     ‘I’ll tell you how; there won’t be no weddin’ for Becky ’cos Earl bloody Feldman be married already though he pays no mind to his wife nor to the four kids he’s fathered on other women back home in America, nor will he pay mind to another one left ’ere in Wednesbury.’

     ‘Becky?’ Katrin’s interest sharpened.

     ‘Ar, Becky!’ The answer whispered fiercely across the desk. ‘Becky be pregnant, her be up the duff while that swine Feldman has got hisself sent back to them United bloody States where no doubt he’ll play his filthy game on some other wench who don’t have enough oil in her lamp to see what he be about, another wench who’ll ’ave no more sense than to trust him.’

     ‘How did Becky find out, about Earl I mean?’

     ‘I couldn’t go to Wolverhampton with her the last couple of Saturdays so her went to the Civic on her own. The rest of the Yanks we danced with were all there but not Feldman, he didn’t show either time . . . and when Becky asked his mates where he was they told her he’d gone home to the States. But that weren’t all what they told Becky, they told her about a wife and kids, said her could ask to see the Commanding Officer but doubted that would achieve anythin’; what that was meant to tell her was there could be no proof of Earl Feldman being the father.’

     That was understandable. Katrin remained silent with her thoughts. If Becky Turner had lain with one man, who was to say how many more she had had intercourse with? Who could definitely place the resulting pregnancy at Earl Feldman’s door?

     Alice leaned her hands on the desk. ‘Kate, I’m worried for Becky, worried what her will do to herself. The wench is terrified of what’ll happen once her mother finds out about this, Becky says her will have her put away in some place never to be brought out again.’

     ‘Surely not, Becky is foolish to think that of her mother.’

     ‘No, Kate. You don’t know Mary Turner, that woman be capable of doin’ anythin’ to keep her name from bein’ talked about by so called friends, and her callin’ herself Christian.’

     ‘But putting some people away, putting girls into an asylum just because they become pregnant yet cannot marry? That doesn’t happen any more.’

     ‘Don’t you believe it! My mother told me of it happening not a year gone, named names her did though I ain’t goin’ to repeat ’em. A young wench of sixteen were sent to an institution. The mother covering by saying her had a heart complaint and had died a month or so after; but you don’t have a daughter die and not have a funeral. I reckons my mother had the truth of it, wenches can be put away and that be the fear I have for Becky. So I come to see you Kate, to ask is there any way we can help ’cos if we don’t then Becky will surely kill herself.’

29

‘I thinks it shameful the way your Jack were hauled off to the station, them police should be made to apologise.’

     ‘Apologise, them! They’ll be givin’ no apology, think they be above that; but I told ’em, come knockin’ at my door again wi’out rock solid proof of what they be there for and it’ll be the piss pot emptied over the lot of ’em, bloody Inspector an’ all!’

     ‘Some folk believes they can get away wi’ anything and bein’ wrong don’t seem to cause ’em no worry.’

     ‘Well, I’ll cause them coppers worry enough should they come for my lad again. He be no saint, that I knows, but he ain’t no killer neither.’

     Standing in the queue of women at the grocery shop, Katrin heard plainly the conversation going on a little ahead.