Breakdown (35 page)

Lenny and I stay inside the coop all the rest of the day. The soldiers don't come back. But we jump every time we hear a noise. Bridey brings us water, stays tight-lipped. Takes away one of the geese. Hannah checks on us, pale-faced. At last, when it's dark, we come in.

An eerie feeling settles over the house, like a thunderstorm's brewing. It starts to rain, hard, fast. No lightning. We wait, darn clothes, turn steaming laundry in front of fires. The evening drags. Where's Tarquin? Is he safe? We wait for the miners to come. Will he come too? No one will recognise him covered in coal dust, stooping like the rest, will they?

We get the news as soon as the men arrive. Two of them come into our kitchen.

‘The soldiers have enforced curfew. They've put a stop to night shifts. Albert's furious.'

Immediately everyone's worried. Hannah sinks into a chair. She's so pale. I fetch her water.

‘How will we mine the coal then?' says Bridey.

‘Won't be able to,' replies the miner, an old man called Topper. ‘There won't be enough output to fill the orders.'

‘They won't lift curfew till they find the runaways,' adds Colin.

‘You're not thinking of scabbing,' says Bridey, suddenly dangerous.

‘Nobody's thinking of that,' says Colin. ‘We're just going to have to stay down there twenty-four seven.'

‘But you can't,' says Hannah. ‘You'll get ill. Nobody can stay down mine without coming up.'

‘We did when we needed to – back then,' says Topper.

‘We'll go out on the spoil tips and collect shale and slack, rather than see you stuck down there,' says Hannah.

‘You'll not go near them slag heaps,' says Topper. ‘They're unstable.'

The four of them stand there, chins in hands, backs bent, faces frowning. Lenny snuggles up to Bridey, puts a hand in her apron pocket, tugs her arm. ‘Don't be sad, missus,' he says. ‘I'll help you. I can carry things.'

I slip outside, hoping to find Tarquin. The rain's pelting down. I hover under the back porch. Nothing but problems.
It's you they want.
A blessing and a curse.
You should walk up to the barracks. Hand yourself in.

I make a dash through the rain to the greenhouse, slide open the door, get inside.

Tarquin's there, grimy, drenched, coal dust in every pore. He struggles to stand straight. He's wet and tired and in pain. He wants to leave this place right now. I can see it in every angle of his body.

‘I can't go down again,' he says. ‘And they're gonna try and get Lenny there tomorrow.'

‘We can't go,' I say. ‘There're patrols everywhere.'

‘We're going,' he says. ‘Tonight.'

I tell him about hiding in the coop, about Lenny cooing, the goose attacking. How it was all right. How even the animals were on our side.

He shakes his head.

‘They've searched the houses now. Let's wait till the soldiers go? Lenny needs to eat, put on some weight?'

He shakes his head again. ‘Spring's coming. If we reach the cottage, we can still plant and get a decent harvest in. Len can eat all he wants then.'

‘Since when were you a farmer?'

‘I love the countryside, Melissa. Imagine me, the city ganger, loving the countryside.' He tries to brush the coal dust off him. ‘I can't go down that mine again.'

‘When the soldiers don't find us, they'll give up.'

I look into his eyes, try to let mine speak for me.
Just a bit longer.

‘We're going. That's final.'

I'll have to tell him.
I take in a deep breath.

We hear footsteps. Two men
.
‘
You there?
' they hiss.

Miners. ‘You heard the latest?'

‘No,' answers Tarquin.

‘We're passing it down the rows, through the back yards.'

‘If we don't make the orders there'll be food penalties.'

‘
Merde!
' explodes Tarquin.

‘And another special's on its way.'

We look at each other.
Another special's on its way.

‘That clinches it,' says Tarquin. ‘I'm not waiting around until this town is heaving with soldiers. We're getting out now.'

‘Lenny's asleep,' I say. ‘We can't.'

‘He can wake up.'

‘Tarquin,' I plead.

He takes my hand in his. ‘I'm sorry, but we are.'

I pull my hand away. I'll tell him then.

‘Tarquin?'

He takes my hand again, folds it in his. ‘Yup?'

The time has come.
This is it.
My heart's thumping so hard I'm turning dizzy.

Then I just say it. ‘There isn't a cottage.'

It's out. I've done it.

His hands drop away from mine. ‘Pardon?'

‘No cottage.' I think I'm going to faint.

He steps away. Can't seem to take it in.

‘
No cottage?
'

I nod my head. My throat dries up.

‘The valley?'

‘
I'm sorry,
' I whisper.

‘I don't understand.'

‘
I tried to tell you.
'

His eyes are confused. He shakes his head. ‘The hazelnuts and the blackberries and the wild rabbits?'

The storm breaks overhead. Rain slashes down, beats the glass roof. A bolt of lightning. His face. Drawn. Deathly.

‘
But the key  …  ?
' He wipes his hand over his forehead, says something – thunder drowns out his voice.

‘Was – Nan's key  … ' I shout. I think he hears.

He sinks on his heels, bewildered. Looks up at me. It registers.

There's a silence. A long silence. Even the rain pauses. I sit down on a stack of logs. His face like a corpse. I turn away. Suddenly I'm so cold. I'm shivering. Then the rain starts again. Ferocious. Drumming out all sound. Did he speak? Another flash of lightning. Jagged. Blinding. Tarquin as still as stone.

When the thunder passes, I say, ‘We'll tough it out here, make a plan, even if there're more soldiers.'

He stands as if turned to ice.

‘Tarquin? There's shelter and warmth and food and work and shelter  … ' My list falters out.

Only the beating of the rain.

‘I should have told you before.'

The pounding overhead and his silence.

‘But I was scared you'd leave me, and there was never the right time.' My voice trails off.
I wish he'd say something.

Water streams down the windows.

‘I'm sorry.'

Trickles and drips through cracks in the ceiling.

‘And there was no need.'

‘
No need?
'

At last. I hide my face. ‘Lenny can have a future here.'

‘
A future?
'

‘There's fires and electricity and  … '

‘
Down a mine?
'

‘There's nothing else.'

‘
Nothing else?
'

‘There's no cottage. I made it all up.
Everything
.'

‘No.'

‘I did.'

‘No. There
is
something else.'

I look at him.

‘There's hope, Melissa.'

‘
There was never any hope.
'

‘And a dream.'

‘You can't eat hope, Tarquin. We need food, beds, warmth.'

‘And the dream. Our dream.' He grabs my shoulders, shakes me.

‘It's over.'

‘You and me and Lenny and the cottage and the ducks and the fish in the pool.'

‘Stop it.'

‘I can't.'

‘Without a dream, life ain't worth it.
I have to dream
.' His hands fall away from me.

‘Will you tell Lenny?'

‘I'm going.' He clenches his jaw. A muscle down the side of his face flexes.

‘
You're going?
'

‘Come too? We won't tell Lenny.'

‘You're not listening, Tarquin.
There's nothing there.
'

‘You're wrong. There
is
something there. And I ain't giving it up.'

‘I won't let you.'

‘You can't stop me.'

‘I won't go.'

‘So be it.' He looks up and raises his chin. ‘Melissa – I've loved you from the minute I pulled you out the river. When I brought you back to life, I brought myself to life too. I've believed in you. I've followed you. I've wanted you. Hour after hour I've dreamed of holding you, of kissing you, of being with you in our hidden cottage. But I'm gonna leave you.
I swear to God
. If you don't wanna come with me, I'm gonna bloody leave you.'

I stare at him.

‘We started like this – we'll end it the same.'

Suddenly he steps forward, drags me upright. Pulls me to him. He yanks me from that dim place where everything is terrible. My shoulders hurt. My arms ache.

Hot lips press on mine. Hot hard lips. Just like that time on the brink of the river. The aching and the fear and the guilt. His lips hurt. I feel his chest against mine. He crushes me to him. His lips move, my lips move. My throat hurts. My chest hurts. The blood pounds in my legs.

He lets go. He looks up at the sky. ‘God forgive me,' he says. ‘But I've wanted you so much.'

And he kisses me again. And again. And he keeps on kissing me.

Then he lets out a groan and pushes me away.

‘That was goodbye,' he says.

‘
Goodbye?
'

‘
Adieu
.'

He crosses the yard. And I can't stop him. And I can't reason with him. He won't listen. He pushes open the back door, goes through the kitchen.

‘At least, leave it till tomorrow,' I plead.

‘No,' he says.

‘But you don't know the way.'

He just laughs. He climbs the stairs. Nobody tries to stop him. Bridey takes one look at him and goes to her room. Shuts the door. I try to hold him. He shakes me off.

Gently he lifts Lenny, gently he wakes him. ‘Hi, Quinny,' says Lenny sleepily.

‘We're leaving,' says Tarquin.

Lenny smiles.

‘We going to the cottage?'

‘Yup,' says Tarquin.

‘Good,' says Lenny.

I sink onto the other bed.

‘Collect up your stuff.'

I rouse myself. I get together Lenny's bits and pieces. The new tops, the jeans.
Think.
One yellow duck from the bathroom. I run downstairs.
Bread. Water.
I take carrots. I push them into a bag. I hand it all to Tarquin. ‘
Please?
'

Lenny sees I'm not coming.

‘You ain't coming with us, Missa?' he says, confused.

‘Yes, she is,' says Tarquin hoarsely. ‘But she's gonna stay here for a bit.'

‘
Please, Tarquin?
'

‘OK,' says Lenny.

Tarquin takes his hand. They go back down the hall, out the front door. I follow. My arms slack against my side. I can't believe it. He'll see sense. He'll turn back.

‘Bye, Missa,' calls Lenny. He hugs me, kisses me.

I put my hand on Tarquin's arm. He casts it off. ‘We'll wait for one night, until daylight at Hadrian's Wall,' he says hoarsely. ‘That's all.'

‘
You can't go,
' I say.

‘See you at Adrian's wall,' calls Lenny.

‘But the curfews, the patrols  … ' I plead.

‘Pulleese,' says Tarquin. ‘Me an' Lenny are gangers. No patrol ain't gonna stop us.'

‘And it's raining  … '

He looks at me and shakes his head.

And they leave.

They simply walk down the street, and round the corner, and are gone.

And I stand there.

When Bridey comes down, I'm sitting by the fire, shivering, staring at the embers.

‘You should be in bed,' she says. She's pale, shaky.

‘Tarquin and Lenny've gone.'

‘I know.' She sits down. Like me, she stares into the fire. ‘You can't keep them as wants to go,' she says.

I think of Lenny's tiny face and Tarquin. Tarquin saying he loved me. His lips on mine.

And now they're not here.

‘So why d'you stay?' asks Bridey at last.

I tell her. I can't stop myself. I tell her everything. I don't leave out any of my guilt.

She doesn't answer quickly. At length she says, ‘He's right, though, pet.'

I don't understand.

‘Without a dream there's nought to wake up for each morning.' She pauses. ‘I dreamed of Lenny growing up here, in my house, of sharing him with you, of being his miner granny.' She smiles so sadly.

We both stare at the fire. The embers are dying, turning black, then silvery white.

‘And now I can't shield him. I'll have to tell Albert they've gone. They'll not be under the mine's protection any more. We can't hold a picket line for them as is gone.' Her voice breaks. ‘It's harsh, I'll grant you, but the mine comes first.'

I don't say anything.

‘But I won't tell him till tomorrow – they'll have tonight to get as far away as they can – before the soldiers get to know.'

She picks up a poker and stirs the ashes. ‘The soldiers will get to know once the picket's gone.' She screws up her face like she's trying to think a way out of it. She gets up, goes out, comes back, blows her nose.

We both sit there in silence.

‘Can you live here without them?' she asks.

I shake my head. Shrug my shoulders.

‘Can you marry one of the lads here? Make a home with us? Bear children to go down the mine?'

I bring my head up abruptly.
I can't.
I know it with a certainty that's like ice on bare skin. I look at her wildly.

Is that the only option left?

I could have stayed here with Tarquin. Been with him. Raised Lenny. But without them everything's meaningless.

‘I thought as much,' nods Bridey. ‘When you know your own heart, you got to follow it, pet, wherever it takes you.'

I can't live here.
Not without them
. I can't love
anyone
else.

Not like I love Tarquin.

‘If I was a beautiful young lass like you, I'd go. I'd follow that boy and be with that child.'

‘
I must go
,' I say wildly.
‘I must follow them.
'
I jump up from the chair, panic stricken.

‘Aye,' nods Bridey. ‘Look into your own heart, it'll always tell you what needs doing.'

I understand.

I thought he wouldn't leave me. I thought once he knew there was no cottage he'd stay. We'd be together. He'd forgive me.

I didn't know I'd found my Orpheus.

I didn't know I loved him.