Authors: Irene Carr
She
landed on moss and long, tufted grass that was sodden from the rain but at least broke her fall. As she lay there gasping for breath and shaking she watched the Dennis roll over and over, sometimes falling twenty or thirty feet at a time to land with a shuddering crash before rolling on. It finally came to rest some two hundred feet below, was still for a second or two, then burst into flames. Katy stood up, feet sinking into the grass, feeling it soak through her overalls up to her knees. She watched the Dennis burn for a time then turned to look for the other lorry. It was nowhere to be seen. The road was empty.
Katy
climbed up to the road, stood on its edge and looked left and right. She could see some two or three hundred yards through the mist and rain and there was no lorry. She could not believe that the driver had not seen the Dennis; they had passed within feet of each other and she remembered his face, eyes staring into hers. His obvious fear gave her the answer. He had seen her go over the edge, recognised he was to blame and fled from the scene.-Katy shook her head in rage and started to walk back to the nearest village. A half-hour later she reported the accident to the village policeman and an hour after that she was on a bus meandering back to Sunderland.
Two
weeks later, no one else had admitted being involved in the crash and the police could find no evidence to point to anyone. Katy sat at the kitchen table in the evening when Beatrice was in bed and asleep, and faced the facts. She had tried desperately hard to keep her promise to Matt and the business in being, but the loss of all the men and all but one of the lorries, petrol shortages and cost of maintenance — Matt was not there to service and repair the Dennis — all had whittled away the firm’s money. And then there was Fleur’s allowance.
The
Dennis had been purchased six years before and was second-hand then. The insurance for it would not buy another lorry worth running, even if she could find one in wartime. Without the Dennis there was no business. But for Matt’s insistence on buying the freehold of the yard, flat and office, there would be nothing left to show for seven years of work and the one hundred and fifty pounds she had originally invested in the firm. A small amount of capital would remain after all outstanding bills had been paid, about fifty pounds, but she would not touch that. She and Matt would share that; he had to have something to come back to.
It
was not the first time she had sat and pondered thus but she was reluctant to make the final decision. Matt had asked, ‘Will you be able to carry on?’ And Katy had answered, ‘We’ll cope.’ Now she felt she had failed him, though God knew she had tried.
She
heard the first tap at the door of the office below but did not run to open it, wondering who it might be at that time of night. The second knock was firmer and now she rose from her chair, ran down the stairs and looked out of the office window. She could see the man only by the diffused light from the room upstairs and just in profile but she knew him and opened the door.
Charles
Ashleigh said, ‘Hello, Katy.’
MONKWEARMOUTH. OCTOBER 1917.
Charles
Ashleigh was older, of course, still tall and lean but heavier in the shoulders. He raised a hand to his cap in salute and there were the three gold rings of a commander on his cuff and a block of medal ribbons on his broad chest made a subdued splash of colour against the navy blue of his jacket. He said, ‘Hello, Katy.’
‘
Hello.’ It came out shakily, incredulous, and she held on to the doorpost for support. After all these years —
Charles
Ashleigh
! Katy realised she was staring at him, a hand to her open mouth. ‘I’m sorry. Will you come in?’
Upstairs
in the kitchen she sat him in the other armchair, the one she always thought of as Matt’s chair. Now, in the gaslight, she could see that Charles was bronzed, burned by the sun, and there were streaks of silver in his butter-coloured hair. She knew he was only thirty-one or two but also that the war aged men — and women for that matter. But, for all that, he was a handsome — she corrected herself —
very
handsome man. He looked at her across the fire and asked, ‘Am I welcome?’
Katy
wondered why he asked. Of course you are.’ And explained, ‘I know it was your father’s idea to have you sent to China and I’m sure your mother drove him to it.’ And when he stared she told him the whole story, how she had seen the letter from his father’s friend in the Admiralty, how she had left Ashleigh’s and eventually Newcastle.
Charles
sighed, ‘I concluded something like that had happened, but not for a very long time. I wrote from China, again and again, but you never replied.’
‘
I had no letter, ever.’ Katy thought a moment, then asked, ‘You wrote to the address where I was living when you left, I suppose?’ And when he nodded she said, ‘And as I’ve told you, I moved — and I think my landlady would not forward your letters. I expect she burned them.’ She did not say that Mrs Connelly regarded her as a harlot because of her affair with Charles.
He
said, ‘I guessed as much. When I came home from China I had three months’ leave before joining my next ship in the Med. I spent the time looking for you. I even put an advertisement in the personal columns of the papers but there was no reply. Then mother persuaded father to rent a house in London for the Season and you know what goes on there.’
Katy
contradicted him: ‘No, I don’t.’
He
blinked at that but then said slowly, ‘No, of course, you wouldn’t — I’m sorry. Well, it’s a marriage market. Mothers give balls for their daughters in the hope they will make a good marriage. By that they mean to a man with plenty of money and hopefully a title as well. I met my wife there.’ He was meeting Katy’s gaze directly. ‘I hadn’t seen or heard from you for six or seven years. I hadn’t forgotten you, still loved you, but — Eleanor was there. She was good to me, good for me. I think I was good to her, and love came. Can you understand that?’
That
the prolonged absence of one lover could make room for another? Katy could, only too well. ‘Yes, I can understand.’
Charles
said, ‘She gave me two sons. She died just over a year ago.’
Katy
said softly, ‘Oh, Charles, I’m sorry.’
He
fell silent for a minute then glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece and rose to his feet. ‘It’s late. I only came because I got off the train just a half-hour ago. I should have waited, I suppose, but I couldn’t. I wanted to see you now, just to be sure you were really here. I have a lot to say but not tonight. I’m staying at the Palace. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night? I understand they have a band for dancing.’ He waited, unsure.
Dinner
and dancing! Katy felt like Cinderella. She wondered if she should, but then thought that she had worked and worried too long, was worrying still. ‘For old times’ sake? Yes, I will.’
His
face broke into a smile, teeth showing white against his tan. ‘I’ll call for you in a cab.’
Katy
was sorry to see him go, briefly to lose this excitement which had come into her life, but at least she had gained a breathing space, time to think. She thought for a long time that night because sleep was slow to come, and all through the following day. She arranged with Annie to care for Beatrice that night and worked on her wardrobe. She dressed with care in the lilac silk evening gown she had bought in the long ago days of peace. When she was ready, Beatrice stared open-mouthed and said, ‘Ooh! You’re beautiful!’
Annie
agreed, ‘She’s right. And you enjoy yourself with this old friend of yours. You’ve earned it.’
Katy
found herself blushing and turned away.
Charles
arrived on time and handed her into the horse-drawn cab — there were few motor taxis now because of the petrol restrictions. He escorted her into the restaurant of the Palace and across the dance floor to one of the best tables and Katy could see heads turning as she passed, the eyes of the men on her.
Charles
said as they were seated, ‘You’ve caused something of a sensation.’
Katy
laughed, ‘More likely because of you, the grand naval officer. You have gone up in the world.’
He
shrugged, ‘I’m expecting my captaincy soon, assured of it, in fact. The war makes for rapid promotion and I’ve been very lucky. But when it’s over I’ll leave the Navy. Both my parents are dead. Tomlinson — you’ll remember him?’ Katy did remember the young manager very clearly, and nodded. Charles went on, ‘I’m sorry to say he was killed early in the war.’
Katy
whispered, ‘Oh! What a shame! He had a young wife and children.’
‘
Yes,’ Charles agreed. ‘He was a good man in every way. We’re paying them a pension, of course, but it can’t make up for his loss.’
They
were both silent for a moment, their thoughts in the past, then Charles stirred and continued, ‘Now Ashleigh’s is being run by an older man. He’s a very good manager making a great deal of money for us, but he’s coming up to retirement. I feel I should take over, now my father has gone.’
Katy
agreed. ‘I think you would do it very well.’ She meant it, was sure Charles would run the business competently, but she said it absently. Louise was never far from her thoughts, though she tried not to worry at a situation she could not affect, and now she wondered if she should tell Charles about the kidnapping of her daughter. The temptation was there, to pour out her tale of grief and misery, but then she decided it was not his problem, it would not be fair to him.
And
now Charles said, ‘I think I’m being too serious.’ He cocked his head on one side, listening. Then he smiled at Katy, ‘This is a foxtrot, isn’t it? Would you like to dance it?’
Katy
would, and stepped up and into his arms. He danced well though stiffly at first, but after a minute he shifted his hold on her and drew her close. Katy found that Annie’s verdict when teaching her had been correct; she was a natural dancer. As they circled the floor, Katy saw Dawkins, with his patent leather hair, sitting in the band and playing his clarinet. He recognised her, took the instrument out of his mouth and gaped at her. Katy stared back and after a moment his eyes fell. She told herself to forget him and Fleur and found it easy.
Back
at their table again, Katy asked one of the questions which had come out of her thinking: ‘How
did
you find me?’
Charles
grinned, more at ease now. ‘I employed a detective agency. They found your father. I didn’t know anything about him, of course.’
‘
And he told them where I was?’ Katy said drily, ‘He wasn’t so helpful as a rule.’
Charles
looked embarrassed. ‘I understand they paid for the information.’
‘
That sounds like him.’ Katy hoped the money had done her father some good but doubted it. Also that Ursula had never mentioned this, so Barney Merrick had pocketed the money and told no one.
They
dined and danced, talked and laughed. It was late in the evening when Charles became serious and said, ‘I should never have let them part us but I just didn’t know what was going on. I should have told them to keep out of my life, left the Navy and made a life for us elsewhere, maybe in Africa.’
Katy
touched his hand, ‘It wasn’t your fault any more than it was mine. Don’t blame yourself. You were young.’
‘
So were you. All through the years I kept thinking how young you were and how I’d failed you.’
‘
You didn’t fail me. We both suffered from the way of the world.’ Katy stood up: ‘Now, shall we dance this one?’
And
this time she held him close, trying to console him in his sorrow and for the lost years of his grieving. He held tight to her and she knew he could feel her body against his through the thinness of her dress.
They
drifted through the rest of the evening on a tide of remembered love. At one point Katy saw Fleur seated at a table with a party of young officers. She stared at Katy and Charles with a mixture of rage and disbelief; they were far and away the most handsome couple in the room. Katy looked through her and forgot her, only noticed some time later that she had gone. Fleur had stormed home, jealous.
Charles
escorted Katy back to the flat, handing her into the cab. In its sheltering darkness, as the horse clip-clopped along, the good man at her side put his arm around her and she rested against him. But when he lowered his head to kiss her she whispered, ‘No, Charles, please.’ Because she knew what was coming next and there would be an awful temptation. She would be able to live in the Ashleighs’ big house, with his money to buy her whatever she wanted, and servants at her beck and call. He would do everything he could to make her happy and it would be a marvellous life.
The
cab wheeled into the yard and halted outside the flat. Charles handed her down and walked her to her door. He stopped there with a hand on her arm and looked down into her face. He said, ‘I know you’re not married. The detective agency told me that. If you had been married then I wouldn’t have come here. But there is someone else, isn’t there?’
‘
No.’ Because she thought there wasn’t. She would be wishing for the moon if she hoped . . .
Charles
nodded slowly. ‘I didn’t know what I had all those years ago. And I haven’t got you now. There’s someone else.’
With
him looking into her eyes Katy faced it and admitted it to herself. She said, ‘Yes, there is.’ She had known that long ago, when Fleur had come upon her and Matt laughing in the garage in those days before the war, three years ago. In all that time she had told no one, never put it into words, kept that secret locked in her breast. Until now. ‘I’m sorry, Charles.’
He
said heavily, ‘And this is goodbye, then.’
‘
Yes.’ She would not lead him on to no purpose. ‘I’ll never forget you, Katy.’
He
started to turn away but now she reached up to take his head in her hands, pull it down and kiss him on the lips. ‘I won’t forget you, Charles.’
He
climbed into the cab then and Katy watched him driven out of the yard and out of her life. She mounted the stairs to the flat and found a sleepy Annie sitting by the fire. Katy asked, ‘Will you take on Beatrice, Annie, please? I have to go away.’