The Most Precious Thing (21 page)
Margaret’s pale blue gaze moved to the baby who was now in his grandmother’s arms, and again she experienced a pang of envy. She hoped they would have a child soon. She didn’t mind if the first one was a boy or a girl, although she knew most men wanted a son, but she longed to be pregnant with Alec’s child. She glanced at her husband as the thought hit and saw his eyes were fixed on the infant. He would make a wonderful father. He was wonderful altogether.
Ten minutes or so passed before Alec made a move to leave. As Margaret was buttoning her coat, Alec turned to his mother and said, ‘May I?’ holding out his hands for Matthew.
Carrie froze for a second and then as Olive passed Matthew over, her heart jumped into her mouth. The baby gurgled and smiled as he did at everyone these days.
‘He’s taken to you, Alec,’ Olive said. ‘He knows you’re his uncle, that’s what it is.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘Oh aye. If you’re a bit nervous with them they sense it right away, like dogs.’
In the ensuing laughter Carrie found her hands were bunched at her sides as she fought the urge to snatch Matthew away. She didn’t want Alec touching him, not for a moment, but she could see what Olive meant. Alec was handling the baby as though he did it every day of his life, showing none of the male awkwardness that Walter and Ned had displayed.
Carrie stood stiff and staring, wondering if anyone else could see what she was seeing.
They were so alike.
But of course everyone would assume this was natural in an uncle and nephew, and the baby wasn’t unlike David. Under his soft baby features, Matthew had the straight Sutton nose and firm chin all the brothers had. Did David see the marked resemblance to Alec? She didn’t dare glance at him.
They were so alike.
But of course everyone would assume this was natural in an uncle and nephew, and the baby wasn’t unlike David. Under his soft baby features, Matthew had the straight Sutton nose and firm chin all the brothers had. Did David see the marked resemblance to Alec? She didn’t dare glance at him.
But perhaps she was imagining things here, because she knew Alec was Matthew’s father. Certainly she had dreaded this moment ever since the child had been born, and it had been a huge relief when David had flatly refused to attend Alec’s wedding. Foolishly - she admitted now - she had been hoping that the bad feeling between the brothers would mean their paths would never cross, especially now that Alec had gone up in the world.
Alec was aware of Carrie’s tenseness and it was all the confirmation he needed that his suspicions were correct. For his part, he was taken aback by the rush of emotion that flooded him when his son smiled up at him. It was one of the rare occasions in his life when he was experiencing regret. Not that he would have changed any of the decisions he had made regarding Margaret and his marriage, he assured himself silently, his eyes taking in each feature of Matthew’s tiny face. He wanted what his marriage had brought him. But he would have liked this child to have come from a union between Margaret and himself, that was all.
‘Give him here, you have to be off.’
When David took the baby from him, Alec was again unprepared for the wave of emotion that came over him. But this time it was resentment liberally laced with jealousy. As David held the infant against his chest and Carrie took her husband’s arm, her other hand moving up to stroke the baby’s head, he could have socked his brother on the jaw. Instead he contented himself with saying, ‘He’s a bonny lad, considering he was so early.’
Carrie’s eyes shot to his face, and in the fleeting second before she dropped them, Alec thought, aye, he’s mine all right. Even without the dates fitting so perfectly, he could read it in her eyes.
‘What do you mean?’ David’s voice was flat but the edge to it was pure steel.
‘Mean? Nowt.’
‘Come on then if you’re going, Margaret’s father will be wondering what on earth has happened to you.’ Olive’s voice was brisk but there was a warning in it too. She didn’t want a scene in front of the neighbours, not on New Year’s Eve. Mr Kirtley had a very nice little hardware business and his daughter was a secretary in a solicitor’s office. You didn’t air any dirty washing in front of people like that, let alone Mr Reed’s daughter. She didn’t know what Alec was thinking of to come out with a crack like that.
When she had ushered Alec and his wife out of the front door and waved them off, Olive turned back into the room, her gaze going immediately to the baby. She hadn’t expected to feel any affection for her grandson. Of all the children she had borne, only Alec had stirred her maternal love and this she admitted quite readily to herself. The others were at best an irritation and at worst a liability. And so she had been prepared to feel nothing for David’s child, especially with the mother being Carrie McDarmount. But . . . She stared at Matthew who was now being dandled on Lillian’s knee. He was a nice little thing with a ready enough smile; charm the birds out of the trees, he would, when he was a bit older. She couldn’t remember David ever being like that.
Chapter Ten
The weeks since New Year’s Eve had seen nothing but sleet and snow, and bitter, unrelenting cold. The sky was so low it seemed to rest on the frozen rooftops, and the masts of the ships in Wearmouth docks were lost in swirling grey mist which soaked through clothes and boots far quicker than ever rain did.
David had still not been taken on at the face and consequently was like a bear with a sore head. Matthew had only recently fully recovered from a cold which had made him fretful and miserable, and which had made Carrie’s quota of fireworks twice as difficult to achieve. And Lillian was living in a constant state of nerves, convinced that each time she saw Isaac, he was going to finish with her - something she called round daily to discuss with Carrie.
The back lanes were a sea of mud which got traipsed into every house, the tall black chimneys of the factories and mines seemed taller and blacker, and the terraced streets surrounding the shipyards where the great hulls of ships rose above the houses were grey and windswept.
All this Carrie could have coped with fairly easily if it hadn’t been for the fact that she knew David was very unhappy. Seeing Alec again had revived all the memories of the night of Matthew’s conception, and although she tried not to let it show, she was petrified David would soon insist on the consummation of their marriage and that she wouldn’t be able to bear it. She
wanted
to be a good wife to him, she told herself endlessly, but the act itself . . . They couldn’t carry on like this much longer, though, that was for sure. She knew he sensed how she shrank from any physical contact and it wasn’t fair on him, not when he was so kind and so good with the baby.
wanted
to be a good wife to him, she told herself endlessly, but the act itself . . . They couldn’t carry on like this much longer, though, that was for sure. She knew he sensed how she shrank from any physical contact and it wasn’t fair on him, not when he was so kind and so good with the baby.
Things were still as far away from being resolved as ever one morning in early April when David shook her gently awake, his hand on her shoulder. Carrie opened her eyes to find him standing at the side of the bed, fully dressed, and with Matthew wrapped up in his arms.
‘What is it?’ She jerked into a sitting position, her hands instinctively reaching out for the child. ‘Is something the matter with Matthew?’
‘Nothing’s the matter with Matthew.’ He didn’t pass the sleeping baby to her; instead, his voice lighter than it had been in days, he said, ‘Get dressed. I want to take you somewhere and you’ll need to be well wrapped up. It’s the best day we’ve had so far but still nippy.’
‘David?’
‘Get dressed.’ He wouldn’t answer the question in her voice and turned away as he said, ‘We’ll wait for you outside. Don’t be long, all right?’
What on earth . . . Carrie glanced at the window. It was still dark outside.
She dressed rapidly, pulling on her heavy black boots last of all. David had sat all evening a couple of nights ago repairing them for her with some leather, nails and a wax end he’d bought. He had borrowed the iron last and a hammer from a pal he worked with, and had been as pleased as punch when he’d come home and shown her what he was about to do. Her heart gave a funny little lurch now as she thought of it, and the way he’d ignored the holes in the soles of his own boots.
Outside, Carrie pulled her hat further down about her ears. Nippy, he’d said. It was freezing, but at least the morning was dry. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked as they began to walk.
‘Wait and see.’ He looked down at her and grinned. ‘Have a bit of patience, woman.’
‘Huh!’ She wriggled her shoulders in pretended irritation, but inwardly she was thankful he seemed so cheerful. She would have turned out of their warm bed and walked miles for that alone.
Dawn was beginning to break as they neared Penshaw Hill, and now Carrie saw quite a few people were making their way to the top where the monument, modelled on the Temple of Theseus at Athens, had been built by public subscription as a tribute to John Lambton, the Earl of Durham, decades before. ‘David, what are we doing here?’ She tugged at his arm as she spoke but he didn’t pause.
‘Wait and see,’ he said again.
They were passing a tinker’s covered cart, a little tent shaped like a segment of sausage, with a fire hissing at the door and the horse cropping at grass a few yards away, and Carrie’s mouth watered as the smell of cooking bacon wafted towards them. She was hungry, starving, and soon Matthew would be waking for his morning feed. What
was
David about?
was
David about?
They reached the top of the hill just as the sun began to rise in the east. Grazing cattle mooed below them and the birds were singing. Carrie wasn’t asking any questions now. There was what she could only describe as a spirit of expectancy about the people gathered around her. Then, slowly, darkness came over all the land, as the moon came between the earth and the sun. The mooing and birdsong ceased, even the bairns who had been running about just minutes before were still and quiet, pressed into their mothers’ skirts. It was breathtaking, uncanny. Carrie found herself clutching David’s arm, her eyes wide and her breath shallow.
A slight arc appeared around the edge of the sun, then slowly, very slowly, more and more of the sun’s rays hit the earth in a glorious display of the Creator’s power. A child clapped, a woman to the side of them gave a deep sigh, and then everything and everyone came to life again.
It was a rebirth. Carrie gazed about her, her heart so full she didn’t know how to contain the feeling welling up inside her. And she would have missed it but for David.
‘A total eclipse of the sun.’ His voice was very soft beside her. ‘I thought you’d like to see it.’
‘Thank you.’
It was an inadequate response considering how it had affected her, but something in her face must have satisfied him because his smile was very sweet as he said, ‘You’re welcome, love.’
Love. He had never voiced the endearment before but it had slipped out as naturally as if he often thought it.
Matthew began to wake up as they walked down the hill. He struggled out of his blankets and put both hands on David’s shoulder, gazing at the trees and birds and cows. There were primroses and dog violets starring the grass here and there, and when David bent down with the baby and pointed to a delicate white daisy type flower saying, ‘That’s greater stitchwort, Matthew, or
Stellaria holostea
if you want the proper name,’ Carrie’s mouth dropped open.
Stellaria holostea
if you want the proper name,’ Carrie’s mouth dropped open.
He saw her expression and grinned at her. ‘Surprised? Not quite the ignoramus you thought you were married to?’
‘I didn’t think you were an ignoramus,’ she protested vehemently, colour flooding her cheeks.
‘Good.’ He stood looking at her for a moment before he said, ‘You get more beautiful every day, lass.’ And then immediately changed the subject. ‘It used to be an interest of mine when I was a lad, flowers and birds and so on.’ His offhand voice told her he was slightly embarrassed about the disclosure. ‘I used to get books out of the library and come up here with them, seeing what I could find. Course, I don’t suppose I always get the pronunciation right.’
‘I bet you do.’ She stared at him, wondering what it cost him each day to leave this world of light and colour and go under the ground into blackness and filth.
He shrugged. ‘Don’t matter one way or the other, does it? Don’t alter the beauty of ’em if you don’t say it right.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ She hesitated, and then said quietly, ‘Would you teach me? When we’ve time, I mean.’
He was standing very still now, his eyes holding hers and seeming to draw her over the space between them, and it was a full ten seconds before he said, ‘Aye, I’ll teach you, lass.’
David was on the late shift that day. Once Matthew had had his last feed and was tucked up and fast asleep in the crib Ned had made from a few orange boxes, Carrie made several journeys to the tap in the yard. After heating the water on the range she filled the tin bath half full, then stripped off her clothes and sat down in the warm water. She sat there for some time, thinking about what she was going to do, and then as panic began to take over she concentrated on the task in hand, washing herself all over with the hard blue-veined soap which never seemed to lather. Once she was squeaky clean she began to wash her hair, persevering until the soap gave in and there was foam beneath her fingers.
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