The Most Precious Thing (18 page)
Carrie had opened her mouth to protest but when she glanced at Ada’s compressed lips she was silent. Dimly, with a mixture of understanding and compassion, she had come to realise that beneath the old woman’s bustling exterior lived a lonely soul who felt redundant most of the time now her Charlie had gone. She said simply, ‘Thank you, Ada.’
‘No need to thank me, lass. I just can’t abide to see good food wasted, that’s all, an’ you’ll offend me if you talk of thanks. I’ll be back in a mo.’ And with that she sailed out of the room.
David, his face unsmiling, stared at Carrie for some moments as she returned the baking board and firework material to the table but she did not look at him. Curiously, she suddenly felt very shy. She had held his hand and worked on his fingers for an hour and a half, but in a funny sort of way it had not seemed as intimate as now. When David spoke, his voice came from deep in his throat. ‘It was nice to see you waiting for me when I came home.’
She stopped her arranging of the papers and paste, her hands becoming still. And then she raised her head and looked directly into his dark brown eyes. ‘I was worried.’
‘You were?’
She nodded, and then because the intensity in his gaze was causing her heart to race, she added quickly, ‘I was worried about me da and Billy, Walter too. All of you.’
Her voice was dismissive, and but for the memory of the look on her face when she had first seen him outside and the note in her voice when she’d said his name, his courage would have failed him. As it was he conceded to her barely concealed panic by turning away, but his voice was still deep and soft when he said, ‘Like I said when you were doing my hand, I think the others are all right but I’ll find out when I’ve had me dinner. But . . . it was nice, more than nice, to see you waiting like that, lass. I just wanted you to know.’
And in the second before Ada came hurrying back with two steaming plates of food, he looked at her again and smiled.
The pavements were still hot enough to fry eggs on when David left the house an hour later. The dusty streets were full of barefoot, raggedy bairns playing in the last of the dying sunlight and women sitting or standing on their doorsteps as they chattered to neighbours now the evening meal was over. Everyone seemed skinnier these days, he thought, walking swiftly as the pervading smell from baking privies got up his nose. Skinnier, raggier, more desperate. Hens had stopped laying and had been eaten, pet rabbits and prize pigeons too in some cases. Poor old Sep Heslop had cried like a baby when he’d let his birds go to fend for themselves, and from what he’d heard, Sep’s wife had nearly brained him when she’d learned he’d given them their freedom rather than presenting them for the pot. But the miners would win through in the end, he told himself grimly. They had to. Anything else was unthinkable.
He had reached the corner of Southwick Road and was wishing he had taken a dose of Ada’s laudanum like Carrie had tried to persuade him to do before he left the house when he heard his name called.
‘David, man. I was on me way to see you.’ Billy was in front of him, his good-natured face more ruddy than usual. And the reason for this became clear when he continued, ‘I wanted to thank you for what you did, man. Is . . . is that the result of it?’
David had been supporting his throbbing hand as he walked along. Now he dropped it to his side. ‘It’s nowt.’
‘Look, I wanted to see you.’ There followed an awkward pause, at the end of which Billy cleared his throat and said, ‘All this the last months over our Carrie, well, I’ve had a bellyful.’
David raised wry eyebrows.
‘Heck, man, I didn’t mean--’ Billy stopped abruptly, his face scarlet, and then when David smiled he gave a sheepish grin. There was an attempt now at jocularity in his tone when he said, ‘You know me, always put me foot in it even when I’m trying to make things right.’
They stared at each other for a moment, and then David said quietly, ‘You’re a good pal, Billy, you always have been, and I can understand how you felt. I’d have been the same if it had been Lillian.’
‘Aye, mebbe, but to my mind it’s gone on too long, the way me da is an’ all. I’d like to get back to our old footing, that’s what I’m saying.’
‘And Sandy?’
Billy shrugged uncomfortably. ‘You know me da. He thinks the sun shines out of our Carrie, always has done, and he’s a stubborn old so-an’-so.’
‘Won’t it cause trouble if he finds out you’re consorting with the enemy?’
David’s tone had been light but Billy’s was perfectly serious when he said, ‘I’ve told him what I think, and I was already feeling this way before today, I want you to know that.’
David stared at his friend. In spite of the two-year age difference they had always got on like a house on fire and he had missed Billy’s sly ribbing and humour more than he liked to admit. He had known he would come in for some stick from Sandy and Billy when he’d shouldered the blame for the bairn, but he hadn’t thought they would keep it up like they had, and lately he’d been thinking along the lines of damn them both, they would want him before he wanted them. But like he’d just said, if it had been Lillian . . . He stretched out his good hand. ‘Let’s go on from here then, shall we?’ he said quietly. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘Aye, it is.’ Billy’s voice was eager and he gripped David’s arm, adding, ‘Would I be welcome if I called round any time?’
‘Don’t be daft, the door’s always been open, man. Look, I’m going to check on my da, he copped a blow to his head, but Carrie’s at home. Why don’t you go and see her? She’d like that.’
‘Aye, I will. Thanks, David.’ Billy punched him lightly in the chest. ‘See you later then, eh?’
Even before he entered the back door David could hear raised voices from within the house, his father’s the loudest. He paused for a moment in the scullery before walking through to the sitting room where he stood in the open doorway, surveying the occupants.
His mother, Alec and Lillian were seated at the table where the remains of the evening meal still lay, but his father was standing in front of the range, facing the others like an animal at bay. ‘You know nowt about it, nowt,’ he was shouting, his face as red as a beetroot. ‘Poncin’ about in that damn shop like Lord Muck! You’ve never done a decent day’s work in your life.’
Alec, in strict contrast to his father, was leaning back in his chair in a nonchalant pose, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his arms crossed over his chest. His voice, too, was casual when he said, ‘That’s a matter of opinion, but even if you were right, my “poncing about” brings in a sight more than you breaking your back down the pit does, and that’s when you’re in work. Face it, Da, no one is interested in the coal miners’ dispute any more. People are only concerned about such things when they’re being inconvenienced, and with coal coming in from Germany they couldn’t care less about the miners. You’re doing yourselves no favours acting like maniacs and attacking the police who are only trying to do their jobs, when all’s said and done.’
‘Like Da said, you know nowt about it.’ David’s voice was raw. Alec always seemed to have the power to enrage him, not least because his brother was so cocksure of himself.
‘Little brother.’ It was a slow drawl as Alec turned his head and noticed David. ‘And sporting battle scars, I see. That must make you feel like a man.’
‘Something you’d know nothing about,’ David returned bitterly. ‘How does it go, Alec? Oh aye. Yes, Mr Reed. No, Mr Reed. Three bags full, Mr Reed, an’ how low would you like me to grovel, Mr Reed?’
Alec was sitting up straight now and for a moment it looked as though he would spring up and strike his brother. Olive must have thought so because she caught at Alec’s arm, her voice low and deadly as she glared at David and said, ‘You, keep a civil tongue in your head or get out.’
‘Don’t tell him to get out. This is my house an’ I say who’s welcome an’ who isn’t.’
‘Oh aye?’ Olive’s gaze snapped from David to her husband. ‘Your house, is it? And who’s been paying the rent the last umpteen weeks and put food on the table, I’d like to know?’
‘You . . . you she-devil.’ Ned’s words were low now but heavy with such bitterness, David saw his mother blink. ‘All the years I’ve provided, workin’ extra shifts when I could get ’em when things were tight, an’ the minute I’m not bringin’ in you throw it in me face mornin’, noon an’ night. You work or you don’t eat, that’s what you’ve bin sayin’ for weeks without openin’ your mouth.’
Olive did not deny this. Instead she turned her head to David again, saying, ‘What’s brought you the night? I’d have thought you’d had enough fun and games for one day. You all ought to be thanking your lucky stars you’re not in Durham jail, if you ask me.’
Ned swore, a particularly base profanity which David had only ever heard underground, and he said quickly, ‘I came to see if Da was all right. One of those maniacs nearly brained him and he was a bit groggy on and off on the way back.’
‘Huh.’ Alec made an impatient movement, shaking off his mother’s arm. ‘If you were so concerned you’d have been better off talking him out of going. But that’s you all over, wind and water with half a brain.’
‘At least I’m not prostituting myself.’ He hadn’t meant to say it, the words had just come from an inner knowledge inside himself as to how to really get under his brother’s skin.
Alec’s face was now bereft of colour, his lips drawn back from his teeth and his eyes like green flame. Again Olive was hanging on to him but now it was with all her strength as Alec tried to rise to get to his younger brother. ‘Don’t, don’t, Alec. Remember you’re going to dinner there tomorrow night and you don’t want your face marked. Think of your position.’
‘He thinks of nowt else, Mam. Didn’t you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if the lass has made a nice little collar and chain to lead him about with.’
As Alec flung his mother off him and sprang to his feet, Lillian screamed loudly and shrilly. It was Ned who leaped between his two sons initially, holding Alec off David with the stocky force of his small body, and then Olive caught hold of Alec again, pleading with him not to fight.
In the moment Alec had come for him David had known he was no match for his brother, not with one hand tied behind his back, as it were. Nevertheless he stood his ground and didn’t give an inch, glaring at Alec over Ned’s head before Lillian’s whimpering cooled his rage enough for him to say, ‘To hell with you, Alec. You’re not worth it.’ He turned. ‘I’ll see you, Da,’ he called over his shoulder above Alec’s wild threats, and then he was outside in the backyard. He stood for a few moments in the fetid, still air, aware he was panting and that his hand, which had got jostled in all the pandemonium, was giving him gyp.
He had burned his boats as far as his brother was concerned. He stood breathing deeply for a moment or two before crossing the yard and opening the gate into the back lane. And he wasn’t sorry. He pulled his cap further down on his forehead. Tonight had been coming for a long time and they had both known it. Funny, but they had never been able to stand the sight of each other right from bairns.
He began walking, slowly at first and then more quickly. One thing was for sure, he’d miss seeing Alec and his mam like he’d miss a hole in the head. Lillian and his da had already got into the habit of stopping by Brooke Street now and again, so nothing need change there. The house in James Armitage Street had been full of strain and strife for as long as he could remember; it had never been a home. He’d felt more settled in one room with Carrie than he ever had living under his mother’s roof.
The twilight was thick when David entered the house in Brooke Street to find Ada waiting for him, all of a twitter. Carrie’s brother had gone to get her mam and Mrs Symcox, Ada gabbled, her mam’s pal who’d said she’d help at the birth. The baby was coming, and from the pains the lass was having it wouldn’t be too long about it neither.
Carrie’s baby was born at three o’clock the next morning. It was a fine healthy boy, with the sort of lungs that guaranteed he would get attention when he demanded it.
David was sitting by the fire with Ada in her crowded sitting room which smelt strongly of cats when Ann Symcox came to tell him the news, adding that the birth had been so quick it was like the lass had been on her fourth or fifth rather than her first. She didn’t remark on the fact that Carrie had behaved somewhat strangely in the minutes after the child was born, first of all refusing to hold or see it, and then, when her mother had insisted, staring at the small screwed-up face and tiny limbs for what seemed like ages before she suddenly reached out and grabbed the infant, and burst into tears. But then a confinement, even a straightforward one like hers, took it out of you.
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