Tangled Threads (23 page)

‘What’s got into you, Evie?’ For a moment he looked angry. Then he grinned. ‘Oh, I get it. You’ve arranged for Rebecca to meet me here, have you? I knew it. I knew
you’d be on our side eventually.’

‘Nothing of the sort,’ Eveleen snapped.

His face fell. ‘Well, in that case, I’m off. I’ve got a date in the village.’

‘Oh aye,’ Eveleen’s voice hardened. She had suspected as much for she had heard Jimmy’s whistling as he came back into the yard and towards Bridget’s cottage late
at night. He was either out with a group of youths in the village or seeing a girl. ‘Oh aye,’ she said again. ‘Going to get another one pregnant an’ all, are you?’

In the dim light, she could see that Jimmy’s jaw dropped. It gave her a second’s devious pleasure to see that he actually looked shocked.

She nodded and folded her arms, still leaning against the door. ‘That’s wiped the smile off your face, hasn’t it?’

‘You – you don’t mean it.’ He tried to laugh, but the sound was brittle. ‘You’re having me on.’

She bent towards him, her gaze holding his. ‘Do you think I’d really joke about a thing like that? Rebecca’s having your child and the poor girl’s frightened out of her
wits. So, Jimmy Hardcastle, what are you going to do about it?’

He stared at her and then his lip curled. ‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing? What do you mean, nothing?’

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and cocked his head on one side as he returned her gaze boldly now. ‘How do I know it’s mine?’

Eveleen lifted her right hand and slapped his face hard.

Eveleen never told Rebecca the full conversation that had taken place between her and Jimmy in the wash-house, merely that Jimmy now knew about her condition.

‘Oh, you shouldn’t have told him,’ Rebecca wailed.

‘He’s got to know. You can’t keep it secret for ever, Rebecca.’

A look of sheer terror crossed the girl’s face. ‘Don’t tell my father. Please, Eveleen.’ She clung to Eveleen’s hand in desperation.

‘He’ll have to know,’ Eveleen said quietly. ‘Sooner or later.’

‘Then – then let it be later. As late as possible.’ She cast about her, seeking escape. ‘I’ll go away. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll have to. I
can’t stay here. Jimmy will take me, won’t he?’

‘I think,’ Eveleen said slowly, ‘that once the truth comes out, we’ll all have to leave. Your father won’t want us here any longer.’

‘It’s not your fault. Or your mother’s.’

‘Maybe not. But I doubt your father will see it that way.’ She thought a moment and then added, ‘Rebecca, maybe we’re misjudging your father. Maybe he will stand by you.
You’re his only daughter. You’re all he’s got. Surely he won’t turn his back on you.’ She hesitated and there was doubt in her own voice as she added, ‘Will
he?’

‘If you think there’s the slightest chance of that, then you really don’t know my father,’ Rebecca said bitterly.

‘Then I really think we should tell Gran.’

Rebecca shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘She’ll not do anything.’

To that Eveleen had no answer. She was very much afraid that Rebecca was right.

They were singing Eveleen’s favourite hymn. Sitting close together in the pew, they looked like any other happy, close-knit family. But Eveleen could feel the tension in
the air so tangibly she could almost reach out and grasp it. Jimmy was sitting at the far end of the pew, squashed against the wall, while Rebecca had been placed almost at the opposite end with
her father sitting on her right-hand side near the aisle.

After the service, Eveleen planned to take Rebecca with her on her usual afternoon visit to their grandmother. But today there would be no lace-making done.

Today they had something to tell Bridget. And the good Lord alone knew what would happen after that. Eveleen closed her eyes and offered up a fervent prayer.

If ever she had needed to pray in her life, she needed to do so now.

‘This is nice. Both my granddaughters paying me a visit.’

Unaware of the bombshell about to explode, Bridget welcomed them. ‘Sit down, sit down. Don’t make the place look untidy,’ she joked.

They obeyed her, but both of the girls sat on the edge of their chairs, glancing at one other, each waiting for the other to begin.

Seeing how white and frail Rebecca looked – far from gaining weight because of her pregnancy, the girl looked to have lost it – Eveleen licked her dry lips and said, ‘Gran, we
need to talk to you. We’ve . . .’ She glanced across at Rebecca, but the girl was now sitting with her eyes downcast, her fingers laced tightly together in her lap. ‘We’ve
got a bit of a problem.’ Even as she said the words she almost laughed hysterically at the understatement.

Bridget leant forward in her chair, looking from one to the other.

‘There’s no easy way to tell you this, Gran. Rebecca is expecting a baby.’

The old lady closed her eyes, groaned and flopped back in her chair. Eveleen half rose but then Bridget opened her eyes. Looking at Rebecca she said harshly, ‘You little fool!’

‘Gran—’ Eveleen began.

‘You keep out of this, miss. This is family business.’

‘But we’re family. We’re—’

‘Aye, you are. But I wish you weren’t. If it hadn’t been for you coming here, this would never have happened.’

Eveleen felt the colour drain from her face as she stared at the woman in front of her. The woman she had believed loved her, loved all her grandchildren. She had thought that Bridget would help
them. But already the old woman’s mood had turned against them. She was ready to side with the person who she knew would be the victor in any family quarrel. Her son, Harry.

And then Bridget said the words that Eveleen had expected to hear from her uncle, but never from her grandmother.

‘You’ve brought trouble back to our door, Eveleen. Your mother’s a bad lot and she’s tainted this girl with her wickedness.’ She leant back in her chair.
‘You’d better pack your things. You’ll be out of here before nightfall, I can guarantee you that. And you’ll be taking her with you.’

‘Oh Gran, I thought you’d help us. I thought you would understand. When we’ve talked you’ve sounded as if you regretted what happened twenty years ago. As if you wish
you’d acted differently. Now’s your chance to—’

The sharp eyes in the wrinkled face opened wide. Now there was a look of vindictiveness in them that Eveleen had never seen before. ‘Don’t you tell me what I can or can’t do,
girl. When Harry finds out about this, you’ll be out on your ears. The lot of you. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.’ Her head dropped and though she muttered the last few
words, Eveleen heard them. ‘Even if I wanted to.’

Shocked, Eveleen rose. Rebecca was now in tears. Sobs shook her thin shoulders and she sat hunched in her chair. As Eveleen looked down on her, she knew that from this moment on she had another
being for whom she was responsible. Two, if it came to that. For there was the unborn child to consider too.

‘You’d better get your things packed. We’ll likely be homeless by tonight. We’ve told Gran so I don’t expect it’ll be long before Uncle
Harry hears.’

‘What did you want to go and do a daft thing like that for?’

Eveleen clicked her tongue against her teeth in exasperation. ‘You’re as naïve as Rebecca. She thought that as long as no one knew, the problem would go away. Well, it
won’t.’

‘You’re the one that’s naïve, our Evie, if you thought any of them here would help. Why didn’t you let me find us somewhere else to go first before you went opening
your big mouth?’

‘Oh thanks. So it’s my fault we’re in this mess, is it? I rather think it’s your fault, not mine.’

‘Mebbe. Mebbe not.’

‘Don’t start that again.’

‘How do you know it’s not Andrew Burns’ kid? He’s always sniffing round her.’

‘I do know,’ Eveleen said shortly. ‘And if you cared about Rebecca at all, you wouldn’t even think such a thing of her.’

‘If she let me, how do I know she didn’t let others.’

Eveleen shuddered. Her brother had just confirmed what she had believed. He was no better, but probably no worse either, than most men. They wheedled and begged and promised the earth and then,
afterwards, they believed the worst. Thank goodness, she thought yet again, she had held out against Stephen Dunsmore.

Sadness washed over her. Was there no man in the world who would really love and cherish her?

Eveleen had been wrong about one thing. Bridget did not tell her son and so Eveleen had a few days’ grace to think and to plan.

Nottingham, she decided. There would be work there. Now that both she and Jimmy could operate frames, she was sure that there would be work in the hosiery industry for them. Somehow she would
have to take a day off from work to go to the city. But it was going to be difficult to explain her absence to her uncle.

The solution came from an unexpected quarter.

‘She is, isn’t she?’

The very next morning, Andrew was waiting for her as she went to work, barring her way up the staircase until she answered him.

Eveleen nodded, miserably.

‘I could break ’is neck,’ the lad muttered, and Eveleen believed that if her brother had been there at that moment, Andrew would have done just that. ‘What are you going
to do, ’cos he’ll throw you out, once he knows.’

‘I know,’ Eveleen whispered hoarsely, aware that Andrew was now referring to her uncle. ‘I want to get to Nottingham to see if I can find us work and a place to live,
but,’ she spread her hands helplessly, ‘I don’t know what excuse to make to Uncle Harry.’

Andrew looked thoughtful. ‘Pity you haven’t got some lace to take to the city.’

Eveleen gripped his arm. ‘But I have. My grandmother’s been teaching me pillow lace. I’ve got balls of it in my bedroom.’ She didn’t tell the young man that the
work had been done every Sabbath afternoon.

‘There’s your answer then. Tell your uncle you’re going to sell your lace in Nottingham.’

Eveleen blinked. ‘Can I do that?’

He shrugged. ‘There’s something called the Lace Market there. I ’spect it’s where folks sell their lace.’

Eveleen’s face brightened. ‘You’ve been?’

‘No, but I’ve heard talk about it.’

‘Do you think I might find work there?’

‘Dunno, but if you don’t there are big factories. They employ a lot of folks to work their machines. You could try them.’

‘Where are they?’

‘Dunno. You’d have to ask.’

Now that she had two possibilities, however vague, Eveleen said, ‘Right then. I’ll go. In fact,’ she added with a calculating gleam in her eyes, ‘I’ll ask Uncle
Harry if I can go with him on Saturday.’

Once a month on a Saturday, Harry went to Nottingham to sell the stockings and socks knitted on the Griswold and assorted garments that had been made in the workshops other than those the bag
man disposed of.

‘By heck!’ For a brief moment the two young people forgot their trouble and smiled at each other. Andrew shook his head and glanced at her admiringly. ‘You’ve got some
nerve, I’ll say that for you. Doing it right under his nose.’

Eveleen’s smile faded and her mouth was grim. ‘Serves him right. He should be the sort of father poor Rebecca could turn to.’ Tears prickled at the back of her eyes as she
thought about her own father and how, if she had found herself in such trouble, she could have gone to him immediately. Oh, he would have been saddened, disappointed in her, but he would have stood
by her and helped her.

Hadn’t he done just that years ago with Mary when Harry Singleton had helped to turn out his own sister?

Harry grumbled and groused when Eveleen asked if she could go to the city with him the following Saturday. Usually, anxious to please and to earn a few extra pennies, Eveleen
worked all day on Saturday, when the young lads and even her uncle occasionally took time off to play cricket matches.

‘I know you’re not very fast yet on the frame, but your work is very neat and saleable.’ It was all that mattered to Harry Singleton.

‘I thought I could learn how things are done. I know you go yourself once a month, just to make sure the bag man isn’t cheating you . . .’

‘Oh now, hold on a minute.’ Harry held up his hand, palm towards her. ‘That is man’s business, Eveleen. I won’t have you interfering in trading.’

‘But I wanted to take my lace to sell at the Lace Market,’ she said, facing him. Eveleen Hardcastle, her conscience smote her, you are becoming an adept little liar.

A look passed between them, she with a wide-eyed and innocent expression, he with the knowledge deep in his eyes of what exactly did go on in Bridget’s cottage on a Sunday afternoon.
‘It’s not the kind of market you’re thinking of. But I can sell that for you. I can get a better price than ever you would get. I know the right people.’

Eveleen thought quickly. She needed to take the lace to show prospective employers her skills. She could cut small pieces off each pattern she had made and hide them in her reticule. He would
never know. She smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Uncle, I’d be very grateful.’ She cocked her head on one side and added, coyly, ‘But I really would like to see the
city.’

‘Well, I suppose you can go. But don’t start making a habit of wanting to go gallivanting off to the city, will you?’

‘No, Uncle Harry. I won’t.’ She turned away before he could change his mind.

The omnibus from Flawford set them down in Broad Marsh. Eveleen looked about her. This was her first visit to a big city and she felt a tremor of excitement.

‘Come along. Don’t dawdle. We haven’t got all day.’

Pretending obedience, Eveleen followed. Harry had said they would be returning home in the early afternoon, but Eveleen had ascertained when the very last omnibus left for Flawford. That was the
one she would be catching, she promised herself.

Harry set off, his long legs striding out so that Eveleen had to take little running steps every so often to keep up with him. They turned to the left and walked a distance, then to the right
and walked again. Eveleen found herself craning to look up at the grand buildings as she passed by. One street was lined with elegant houses.