THE CINDER PATH (12 page)

"I've been wanting to get a word with you, I've

never seen you over the holidays. I wanted to say

Happy Christmas."

"Oh, thanks, thanks, Charlie, an' the same

to you."

In the lamplit passage they smiled at each

other. Then her face suddenly becoming straight, she

whispered rapidly, "And I... I want to have a

word with you, Charlie. Can I see you, I mean

outside like, for a minute or so? It's important,

Charlie, I'll . . . I'll go over to the dairy

in ... in ten minutes or so, an' I'll wait.

It's important."

There was a burst of laughter beyond the passage

door, then it was pushed wide and Nellie entered,

accompanied by two laughing girls about her own age.

She paused a moment to look at Polly disappearing

into the kitchen; then laughing, she came towards

Charlie, saying, "There you are, boyo! And what are you up to, eh? What are you up to?" She lifted

her hand and tickled him under the chin, and he caught her wrist and, laughing down at her, answered, "Looking for you."

"Liar! Isn't he a liar?" She

turned to her companions, and they laughed and said,

"Yes, yes, you are, Charlie MacFell, you're

a liar."

Charlie looked from one to the other of the laughing

faces. They were flushed, their eyes were bright. He

had the desire to kiss one after the other, just in fun, that was all, just in fun. The wine that was making their faces

bloom like roses before his eyes was also making him

feel gay enough to sip the dew from them, so he told

himself. He had drunk more tonight than he had ever done in his life before; he had never known Chapman to be so generous with his cellar.

"What are you all up to in here?" The voice

brought them round to face Victoria standing with the door in her hand, and Charlie stared over the heads of the three girls towards her. She looked beautiful. He

had thought so when he had first seen her tonight, but she had grown more so as the evening wore on. Oh yes, he

had told himself already that he was seeing her through the fumes of hot rum and old brandy, in Fact only

a short while ago he had warned himself that he

wouldn't be able to see her at all if he indulged

himself further,

She was standing in front of him now, She

was wearing a green velvet dress, her flesh

appearing to pour over the low cut neck like rising

cream. Her dark hair was piled high on her head,

and two strands had come loose in the dancing and were lying one on each of her cheeks.

"Come on, come on, you're going to dance this one with rne."

"Oh, Victoria! you know I'm no dancer."

"Leave him alone, our Vic, it's my party."

Nellie's voice was a hiss now, and he looked

from one to the other; then stretching his arms wide between them, he laughed with the two young girls who were convulsed with what they took to be a comic situation.

"What's on here?" Hal Chapman had joined

them in the passage, and Victoria's voice, still

holding laughter, said, "I want Charlie to dance with me and she's trying to stop him."

"Don't be silly, Nellie. Behave yourself!"

The slap that brought Nellie's hand from Charlie's

arm was almost in the nature of a blow and she winced and sprang back, and stood against the wall and watched

her father pushing her sister and Charlie through the door and into the hall.

"Did he hurt you?" One of the girls had

remained behind, and Nellie shook her head

vigorously, saying, "No, no. Go on, go on

in; I'll be with you in a minute, I'm just going to the toilet." On this she ran down the corridor,

past the door leading into the

hall and up the back stairs and into her bedroom.

Three times during the next hour Polly

scurried across the icy yard and into the dairy, but

Charlie did not come.

"What you keep going out to the netty for, you got diarrhoea?"

"Yes, a bit." Polly nodded at Lindy.

"What's given it you, you been dra*' the

glasses?"

Polly smiled weakly as she answered, "Aye,

a few," thinking as she did so, I'd be hard put

for a drink to drain glasses, I would that.

"Well, you missed a few "cos I've had a

lick at some. Eeh! the stuff that's been swilled

in there the night, you could launch a boat on it. The

boss must be in a generous mood, It's some party."

"Aye; but it isn't like a birthday party, it's not as Miss Nellie wanted it, I'm sure of that."

"No, you're right there; 'tis more like a wake or a weddin". . . . You off again?"

"Yes." Polly pressed her hand against

her stomach and, grabbing a cape from the back of the

door, she put it over her head, and ran out into the

yard once more; and as she did so

she saw the side door open and a dark figure show

up against the snow and make its way unsteadily

towards the dairy.

"That you, Charlie?"

"Yes, Polly. S . . . sorry I

couldn't get here before. Goin' mad in there." He

laughed.

They were inside the dairy now. The cold seemed

more striking than outside, and the clean bareness of the place could be sensed even through the darkness.

"Wait a minute," Polly whispered now;

"I'll light the candle. It won't be seen if we

keep it this end."

As the flame of the candle flickered upwards,

Polly looked into his face. It wasn't the

face she knew so well, the face that was deeply

etched in her mind burnt there by the trammels of young love. His thoughtful, even sombre, look was

replaced by a large inane grin; the grey eyes,

whose kindness and concern was usually covered by blinking lids, were half closed as if he were about to fall

asleep where he stood.

"Charlie."

"Yes, Polly." He had hold of her hand.

"It's Ginger."

"Ginger? What about him?"

"He ... he wants me to marry him."

"What!" For a moment he seemed to sober up

completely, his eyes widenedj and his lids blinked

rapidly. "Ginger . . . you marry Ginger? You'll

not! Wait till I see him. The bloody

insolence!"

Funny, it was the first time she had ever heard him

use a swear word, but then she hadn't been with him much since they had grown up and she had come over here

to work. She took him by the arm and shook him slightly and, reaching her face up to his,, she whispered as if

they might be overheard, "There's . . . there's

nothing else for it., Charlie, is there?" Her last two words seemed to pierce the fug of his brain and he

repeated to himself, "Is there? Is there?"

"Do ... do you want to marry him?"

"No. Nost"

"Well then." He knew as he said it it was a

stupid answer to give her and that was why she was

actually shaking him.

"But don't you see, Charlie? If I

don't he could ... he could split."

He looked down into her face and for a moment he

forgot about Sidney Slater as he thought. She's

bonny; not beautiful, but bonny, warmly bonny.

That's what he wanted. warmth. He had always

wanted Polly, the

warmth of her. He had continually dreamed of her

until recently, when he had realized the stupidity

of it. But what was she saying? That Slater! that

ginger-headed weasel wanted to marry her! It was

strange but he had never imagined that he could really

hate anybody, yet as he had watched the undersized

skinny lad sprout inches and his shoulders broaden

until now at eighteen he was a presentable young

fellow, he knew that his mere dislike of the boy had

grown into hate, for never once had Slater looked

at him over the years but his eyes had said, "Don't come the master with me; we know who's got the upper

hand, don't we?" As for the fellow's effect on

Arthur, at times he wouldn't have been surprised if

Arthur hadn't tried his hand at a second murder.

He said now, "Arthur, does Arthur know?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"Well-was She turned her head away

and looked towards a bench on which stood a gleaming row of copper pans, the candlelight bringing out gold from

their depths, and her voice was low in her throat as

she said, "When me mother told him, she said he

banged his head against the wall, then went out and got drunk."

Again there was silence between them, and now he stuttered,

"You . . . you're too young to be married."

"Don't be silly"-her tone was astringent"...me ma was married at sixteen."

"Do ... do you like him?"

Again she turned her head to the side, right on to her

shoulders now, and out of the corner of her eyes her

gaze rested on the wooden churn, the handle of which had hardened the muscles of her arms since she had come

on the farm, and she looked at it for a full minute

before saying, "I don't dislike him; he's . . .

he's always been decent towards me, not like he's

acted with Arthur ... an' you. He hates you

both."

"I'm well aware of that. Anyway-1' He

made an attempt to straighten his shoulders and his

lips worked one over the other before he said, "Leave it to me, I'll see to him. I'll bring it into the open

. . . Should have done it years ago. Who's

going to believe him, eh? Who's going to believe

him? Think he's mad, that's what they'll think,

think he's road. Don't worry, Polly"-he

put his hand on her shoulder and his face hung over

hers for a moment-"you'll not marry him, I'll see

to that. Leave it to me, eh? Leave it to rne."

She gazed back into his eyes before she whispered,

"Yes, Charlie. All right, Charlie."

Their faces were close, their noses almost touching,

he felt himself swaying. Once she had offered to pay

him for what he had done for them. He would like to take the payment now. Oh aye, he would like to take the

payment now, to hold her in his arms, to kiss her,

to hug her, to roll with her on the floor ... to love

her. Oh, to love Polly. The old dream was

returning. Their noses touched; his arms were moving

upwards when she sprang back from him, "I've .

. . I've got to go; I've been comin' back

an' forward for the last half hour, an' Lindy's

been wonderin'."

He didn't speak. His arms were still extended in

front of him as he watched her nip out the candle,

then walk through the open door into the whiteness of the yard.

There went his love, his buried love. He knew

he'd never have Polly. Yet he had said,

"Leave it to me." What did he mean? Aye,

what did he mean? . . .

Polly didn't run across the yard, she walked,

her head deep down on her chest until it was brought

abruptly up, when a cry bordering on a scream

came from her open mouth as she felt her arm being

gripped. She

was pulled into the side doorway, then into the light of the passage and the sound of merriment.

"What've you been up to?"

It was almost with relief that she looked down

into Nellie's face.

"Oh . . . Miss Nellie , . . Miss

Nellie . . . I've just been to the dairy."

"Yes, I know you've just been to the dairy, and I

know who's been in the dairy with you. What I'm

asking you is what you are up to."

"Nothin', Miss Nellie, honest, noth*in.

Well. . . there's trouble at home"-there was always trouble at home so that was no lie"...an5 I asked

Mister Charlie to give me a minute of his time

"cos I wanted him to take a message ... a

message to me mother."

"And you had to go into the dark dairy to do it?"

"It wasn't dark, Miss Nellie,

I lit a candle."

"Oh, you lit the candle . . . the better to see

him with. Well"-Nellie was now stabbing her anger

into Polly's chest-"you know I've always been decent to you, don't you?"

"Aye, Miss Nellie. Oh, aye."

"Well, I'm going to give you some advice;

get Mister Charlie out of your mind.

"What?"

J his

I

"You heard what I said. Oh, I haven't been

blind all these years, I've seen you watching him every time he comes to the place. I'm not blaming you, mind,

I'm not blaming you, but I'm just telling you there's no future in it for you. And you're sensible enough to know that, so why do you carry on?"

Polly's mouth opened and closed, then her hands

working agitatedly on her apron smoothed the bands

around her waist, then the wide bib before she ran her

fingers down the broad side hems as far as her hands

could reach, and when she stopped pressing and plucking she said in a tone that definitely held dignity, "I

think you're barking up the wrong tree, Miss

Nellie, never such a thought crossed me

mind. I ... I'm . . . well. . . I'm about

to give me word to Sidney Slater at the farm."

There was silence between them for a moment; then in a soft voice now, Nellie said, "Honest?"

"Yes, honest."

"Oh well . . . well I'm sorry, but you

must admit it looked fishy. And just think Polly,

if Mother had caught you or ... or her ladyship."

She grinned now. "If you had told her you were going to marry ten Sidney

Slaters it wouldn't have convinced her but that you were up to something."

Again they looked at each other; then with a slight