The Loner (9 page)

She wondered if Davie could hear that same owl, or see the same stars in the skies. The idea gave her a small degree of comfort.

Soon, it would be time for him to leave this place for good. She still had a lot of growing up to do, while he felt a hundred years old. If they never saw each other again it would be a very sorry thing.

But maybe, in the end, that might be for the best.

For now though, he desperately needed to sleep. Rolling over, he wrapped the blanket she had given him closer about his shoulders. His bag, now a pillow, was lumpy, but he tried to relax. However, his thoughts were too alive with new feelings. Time and again, he brushed his fingers over his lips, remembering the urgency of her kiss; so unexpected and lovely; her nearness, and the warm, earthy smell of her hair brushing against his face.

After a while, he drifted into a shallow, troubled rest, haunted by recent events and the unknown road ahead. His mother’s dying face, with its look of love, made him sob in his sleep.

Opening his eyes, glad to see it was almost dawn, he turned his thoughts to family.

Before he set out, there was one more thing he had to do. Then he would be gone from here, taking whichever path drew him away.

Not for the first time since that night, he wondered where his father might be. Had Don gone back to Ireland? Or was he still hereabouts, a mere few miles away? Or was he on a ship destined for foreign parts?

Davie needed him now more than ever, but he would never admit it out loud. All he wished was that his father should be safe, wherever he was, and wherever in the world his travels might take him.

He thought of his own situation and yes, the future seemed a frightening prospect. But the past was even more daunting.

And the sooner he put it behind him, the better.

Tom was more philosophical. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if a few neighbours turned up,’ he commented, as he wound his tie round his neck for the third time. ‘Happen not for Rita’s sake, but for old Joseph. He’s made a heap o’ friends over the years, an’he’s never let’em down when they needed him.’

He cocked his head to one side, skenning downwards through crossed eyes as he made a fourth attempt at taming his rebellious tie. ‘I reckon they’ll not let
him
down neither, especially not today of all days.’

Snatching the tie from round his neck, he threw it over the back of the chair. ‘I’m not wearing this damned thing! I can’t even fasten the beggar.’

Judy came to the rescue. ‘Don’t fidget, Dad,’ she said, sliding the tie round his leathery neck. ‘And I think you’re right. I bet the people will be there for old Joseph.’

‘I’m not so sure.’ Rolling the flesh-coloured stockings up to her thighs, Beth hoisted her skirt and hooked up the suspenders. ‘Although we were friends, there was summat inside Rita that made her lose all control. By! She must have bedded half the male population o’ Blackburn in her time. I’m just glad she never started on you, Tom. There must be a hundred women out there who’d like to dance on her grave, never mind come and pay their respects.’

As she spoke, she made the sign of the cross over herself. ‘God rest her soul all the same,’ she prayed.

Judy glanced across at her mam. ‘Your seams are crooked.’

‘What?’

Having looped her daddy’s tie into a neat little knot, the girl pointed down at her mother’s stockings. ‘The seams are all crooked, see?’

‘Oh, damn and bugger it!’ As a rule Beth never wore stockings; she much preferred bare legs, or a warm pair of socks inside boots or stout shoes. She was a farmer’s wife, not a townswoman.

Twisting herself round, Beth began tweaking the stockings, until the seams were as straight as she could get them. ‘How’s that, lass?’ she panted.

Judy nodded. ‘Much better, Mam.’

‘Right well, it’s time we were on our way.’ Looking in the mirror, she dabbed a discreet shaking of powder on her face, then a touch of lipstick, and then came the hat – a small round, blueberry-coloured thing. ‘How does that look?’ she asked, spinning round to face them.

‘Like a cherry on a cake,’ Tom remarked, making his daughter smile.

Ignoring his cheeky comment, Beth asked of Judy, ‘Do I look dignified, lass?’

The girl gave an honest answer. ‘Yes, Mam.’

‘And the hat – is it suitable for the occasion, d’you think?…And don’t look at your father; he’s got no idea.’

Judy gave her own opinion. ‘You look really smart, Mam. Rita would be pleased you’d made the effort.’

Beth regarded her daughter with a critical eye; the dark flared skirt and fitted jacket, and her light brown hair taken back in one thick plait. ‘You do us proud, so you do,’ she said with a generous hug. ‘Now then, are we ready or what?’

Tom was still tugging at the neck of his shirt; red in the face, he looked fit to burst. ‘It’s choking me, damn it!’

‘It’s
me
as’ll choke you, if you don’t stop yer moaning!’ Turning away, Beth winked at her daughter. ‘Look at our Judy,’ she told her husband. ‘She’s quietly got herself ready an’ not a word of complaint.’

Judy didn’t mind their friendly bantering; she had other things on her mind. ‘Do you think Don or Davie will be there?’ she asked. She’d dressed up with Davie in mind, just in case by some miracle he turned up; had wanted to look her very best. She knew it was silly. He’d have his heart and mind on his mam, not her. And she worried about how he’d been surviving, these past few days. He hadn’t been back to the barn.

‘I’ve been wondering the very same,’ Tom said. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me to see the lad there at some point. I mean, look how he stuck by his mam when everyone else turned against her. He’ll not desert her now, not if I know the lad, he won’t. As for Don, it’s a crying shame. He’ll probably not even know that the poor lass is dead.’

‘If he does put in an appearance, do what you can to persuade him to stay, Tom,’ Beth said. ‘Tell him he can have a home with us for as long as he wants.’

A few minutes later, with Tom lagging behind, still moaning because he was ‘being throttled by this blessed tie!’ the three of them made their way to the car. The old Morris Minor was in a bad humour today, and needed the starter-handle to get it going, by which time Tom had taken his tie off again, and had muck on his hands.

‘I hope Joseph was ready when they came for him,’ Tom said, breathing a sigh of relief as the engine caught. ‘I don’t expect he’s had a wink of sleep.’

As they made the short journey to St Peter’s Church, the conversation centred on Rita’s father. ‘You needn’t worry about him not being ready,’ Beth replied. ‘When we popped in yesterday, Judy and I went through everything with him – the time the undertakers would be there to collect him, and what he would need to wear. He had it all set out on the sofa ready.’

‘Aye, well, you never can tell with Joe. He’s a stubborn old devil when he puts his mind to it.’ Tom recalled his conversation with the older man. ‘I said it might be best if he stayed with us for a few days, and that we’d follow Rita to the church from here, if he wanted. But he were adamant that she had to go from his house, and try as I might, there was no persuading him otherwise.’

‘To tell you the truth, Tom, I never wholeheartedly agreed with your suggestion, kind though it was,’ Beth said now. ‘Joseph is used to his own four walls about him. Besides, I happen to believe he was right to insist that Rita was taken to the church from his house. It’s the accepted tradition, and she was his daughter, after all.’

‘And God help anyone who has a daughter like that!’ As Tom thought of the poor young woman dying in his cart, his heart broke at the pity and waste of it, and for Rita’s devastated family.

Tears ran down his face, and he took a long, withering sigh. At that moment, he heard the sound of an engine, and pulling aside one of the curtains, which were closed throughout the house, he saw the hearse draw up at the kerb. Inside was a coffin, covered with the flowers he had ordered. This was the third member of his family he had seen to their last resting-place from here, and his heart cracked under the burden of his sorrow.

Bracing his shoulders, and saying a last, brief prayer, the old man went to open the front door to accompany his daughter to the church.