Road to Berry Edge, The (32 page)

That Christmas Faith went to John's grave and put
greenery there and tidied it, but only out of habit and guilt. The feelings were not there. Rob had broken her heart anew.

*

Harry went home after Christmas, mostly because his father had written in his usual high-handed way and demanded his presence. Harry heard the message through the clumsiness and went back to London.

It was strange and it hurt, but London didn't feel like home any more. It was true that he had lived most of his life in Nottingham but he had always hankered for London, because his infancy and the first part of his childhood had been spent there. He had happy memories of the parks, of his nanny, of the various little girls he knew, families of them dressed alike out with their governesses, the more modest house which the Shaws had then in a less fashionable address when Ida's parents were still alive and had the big house, though he and Sarah were allowed the run of it. Christmas was endless days of outings and toys, parties and pantomimes.

He went home and pretended to be happy. At least it wasn't Nottingham and he was glad that he had gone for Rob's sake. Christmas was always a difficult time for them and Rob was particularly low. Even though he said nothing, Harry knew him too well to think otherwise.

On New Year's Eve they went out with a number of friends, had supper, gambled, got drunk and, somewhere before the evening was out, ended up in a brothel. Harry hadn't really noticed where he was going, just went along with the others until he stood there in the hall, glanced across at Rob, and then without a word both walked out.

‘I've had enough of women for one year,' Harry said.

‘Me too.'

*

Ida had invited several people for New Year's dinner in the middle of the day which was a shame, Rob thought, when
he could think of anything. Ida insisted that they should both be there, although neither of them was in any fit state to eat or make conversation. Vincent seemed determined to make things worse. At the end of the meal, when the men were sitting around drinking brandy - except for Rob and Harry who couldn't entertain the idea - Vincent turned to Rob and said, ‘I was wondering whether you could spare Harry from the steelworks, whether he could go back to Nottingham for a while. They're talking about building a bridge—'

‘I'm not interested in bridges,' Harry cut in.

‘I just—'

‘I know what you just, Father,' Harry said, regarding him severely.

‘You seem so wasted up there, considering your talents.'

‘I'm perfectly happy where I am. Nobody else can do my work except Rob, and he isn't there. I'm good at it, and I'm going to stay there and do it.'

‘Fine, that's fine,' Vincent said, putting up both hands. ‘And how is the lovely Miss Norman? Do you see her?'

‘Sometimes'; Harry said.

‘I imagine that her company is most illuminating.'

‘It can be.'

‘Does she interest you?'

Harry said nothing to that.

‘What interests you most about her? Is it her beauty, her intelligence, or her fine hazel eyes?'

‘Vincent …' Rob said.

‘Do tell me, Harry, what you like most about her?' his father said, and the table was silenced, everyone listening.

‘I think it's the way that she pours her tea into her saucer before she drinks it. It's the best way if your tea's very hot,' Harry said.

Vincent looked around at his company.

‘You do remember Miss Norman, I take it,' he said. ‘She was Robert's intended bride, a badly-dressed north country girl with a thick accent, no schooling and piety
that would offend a priest. She's plain, charmless and commonplace.'

Harry excused himself and left. As soon as he could get away Rob followed him.

Harry was standing in front of the fire in the library smoking a cigar. Rob closed the door. Harry threw the half-smoked cigar into the flames.

‘I always imagined that when this happened she'd be eighteen and brilliantly lovely and funny and witty and … and adore me and I could bring her home to Vincent and Ida and … Faith is as old as me and she's embittered. I don't think she likes me at all.'

‘I wish you'd told me.'

Harry looked at him. ‘You couldn't control the guilt that you felt about John. Marriage to Faith would have done that, possibly.'

‘But if you loved her—'

‘I didn't want to love her, it was the last thing I intended. You saw how my father reacted. They didn't want you to marry her but me … I think he'd never speak to me again, banish me—'

‘He wouldn't. He has too much to lose by it.'

‘I've been so badly raised that I think even I'd be ashamed of her. What values have been instilled into me that I care so much for a woman's age and appearance, as though a wife was a prize for coming first in something? God, I hate that. I miss her. When I'm away all I remember is that first night when we met and you quarrelled with her and she stood in that bloody freezing hall at your house and cried into the coats. I always think when I'm not there that that's what she's doing. There's nobody to look after her. I want her in that house on the hill. I want her in my bed and at my table and by my side. I want children who look like her and who have to wear long coats and thick boots half the year because the weather there is so awful. I want children who have those lovely
singing Berry Edge accents, and I can't because she doesn't like me.'

‘You could come home for a while, and I'll go there and run the works.'

‘I don't know how to come home any more. When I'm here or in Nottingham, I'm wretched for Berry Edge. I feel like I'm having my guts pulled out.'

‘I used to feel like that.'

‘But not now?'

‘I don't feel like that about anywhere now, they're all just places I can use and leave. I don't want that again. I don't want to be tied to any place because of family or memories or anything that matters ever again. I think your parents know or at least suspect how you feel about Faith. Vince suspected you of liking Faith ages since.'

‘It's probably his worst nightmare,' Harry said.

*

Their guests left in the middle of the afternoon, just before the winter's day gave in to evening. Harry searched out his father who was sitting alone before the drawing room fire. Vincent immediately looked up.

‘You're going back, aren't you?' he said.

‘Tomorrow.'

‘You can't wait.'

‘No.'

Vincent shook his head. ‘I don't remember when you were children, you and Sarah, ever being aware that I was to lose you both so surely. I didn't think that it was going to hurt like this. Childhood problems are nothing compared to the pain of this. I thought that you would both settle near us and have a family and that there would be grandchildren and that things would go on and that … I thought we would run the businesses together. I made such plans. Now Sarah is dead and you … you don't really want Faith Norman, Harry, you'll never be able to take her anywhere.'

‘Rob did.'

‘That was different. You're a Shaw. She would not be accepted as your wife, she's too plain and too old and too opinionated. Men like you are obliged to marry pretty simpletons so that other men can envy them their supposed good fortune. All successful men need a mirror so that they can see themselves.'

‘Mother wasn't a pretty simpleton.'

‘Your mother came from an aristocratic background so it didn't matter. Faith has neither background nor anything else which would make her acceptable in the society to which you belong.'

‘I don't want to belong to it. I don't care about it.'

‘You will care about it when you're older, and you would care very much if your wife was snubbed. She would care, too, I think. You and Robert are a great disappointment to me. I thought that no matter what your general behaviour was like, you would have enough sense to marry suitable women. I didn't expect to be caught up in the middle of scandals and muddles. You're thirty, for God's sake. Why don't you just bed her and be done? That's what you usually do with women.'

Harry couldn't think of anything to say.

‘That's the trouble, isn't it?' Vincent said. ‘You want her. You don't love her, Harry, you just want her on a bed or over a sofa. She won't let you, is that it? She's hanging out because you have money and position and all those things which she can't have. She would never be acceptable to your mother or me.'

Harry still couldn't think of anything to say. He had a picture of Faith in her grey dress in the kitchen in the Chapel hut, up to her wrists in soapy water as a lady would never be.

‘I love her,' he said.

‘Very well then, take her, marry her, do whatever you like. Just don't come back here. And when you grow tired of her, your dull little north-country woman, when you wish that
you had married a beautiful, charming, educated girl whom you could have been proud of, just remember what I said. You can leave any time you like - and take Robert Berkeley with you. I'm bored with his bloody north-country face!'

‘He'll get over it, Harry,' Rob said as they stood by the fire in the library.

‘I won't,' Harry said.

*

Somebody had broken into the house and taken Susannah's precious store of jewellery, even though she and Claire thought it well hidden.

‘Thieves know where to look,' Claire said dismally. ‘That was the rainy day money. Now what, now that it's pouring? We won't remind ourselves of how rich the man was, shall we? We'll just content ourselves with having to go on the street. Susie, can you not go to Berry Edge and see him? He's back, you know, he came back at New Year. You could always offer him a good time.'

Susannah smiled. ‘He's just come back from London. I imagine he's had plenty of good times.'

‘Would you rather do it for somebody else, because that's what we're getting to? By the end of the week we'll have nothing to eat.'

‘There are plenty of men.'

‘I don't want any of them in my bed and neither do you.'

‘It's the only thing we're any good at.'

‘I wish I'd listened to my mother now,' Claire said, trying to smile, ‘and learned something useful.'

By the end of the week, unable to think of a way out of the problem, Susannah resolved to go to Berry Edge and talk to Rob. She didn't know where he was staying but she knew that Harry had a house just off the main part of the town, and if he was not there then at least Harry would know where he was.

She went in the late afternoon under cover of darkness.
She was too beautiful for people not to notice her and remember who she was, but even in darkness, in the mid-evening streets of Berry Edge, most respectable women were indoors. There were men standing around or going into or coming out of pubs. They shouted and whistled at her. Susannah quickened her pace but somebody caught her by the arm.

‘Now then, pet,' he said as she turned around, ‘you're not from round here. Oh, look what a bonny one.' His friend came nearer, laughing, and Susannah remembered that awful night in Newcastle. ‘Give us a kiss then, pet,' the first man said, and when Susannah tried to hit him he said, ‘Why, what a little bitch, Walter,' and grabbed her.

The problem didn't last. She was aware of a voice behind them saying, ‘Get your mucky hands off her,' and the man was whisked away.

She was confronted with Michael McFadden, large enough to shut out the rest of Berry Edge.

‘Susannah!' he said in astonishment. ‘What are you doing here?'

‘Michael,' Susannah said in relief.

‘You shouldn't be on the streets here, it isn't safe for women at night.' He put an arm around her. ‘Howay home with me. Nancy'll put the kettle on.'

Michael had the good sense to go out and leave Susannah and Nancy, having made it clear that if there was a problem he and Nancy would do whatever was necessary. Nancy had hugged Susannah, asked after Claire and Victoria and sat Susannah on an easy chair by the kitchen fire.

‘I hear he's back,' she said.

‘Aye. Came back with Mr Shaw the day after New Year. You've got to admire his face after what happened.'

‘What is he doing back here?'

‘Working. I daresay it won't be for long. Mr Shaw's got the place going fine.'

‘I need to see him, Nancy. My investments haven't worked
out and somebody broke in and stole everything. I won't go on the street again, not after what happened. I feel so awful going to him. I tried to stop him from seeing Victoria. He can be quite intimidating when he's in one of those moods.'

‘He's not going to see you on the street, is he? Look, you can stay here—'

‘Nancy, I couldn't.'

‘Yes, you could. You did all kinds for me when things went wrong. When Michael comes back I'll send him for Claire and the baby. We've got three good bedrooms—'

‘Nancy, you have two children and a baby due any day. I won't put on you.'

‘You're not putting on me. Just for a little while.'

‘Your neighbours will talk.'

‘It'll be nothing new.'

*

‘You don't mind, do you?' Nancy said to Michael when they went to bed. ‘Susannah's not the kind to outstay her welcome.'

‘How could I mind after what they did for us?'

‘You'll get some stick at work,' Nancy said.

*

Harry didn't know how to approach Faith, so he just waited for Sunday. When he thought it was her usual time, he went to the graveyard, but she was not there. It was mid-afternoon. He waited around there for a while, and when she didn't appear he went to the house and banged on the front door.

Faith opened the door herself.

‘Why, Harry, how nice to see you. Do sit down,' she said, ushering him into the sitting room where a big fire burned. ‘Did you have a good holiday?'