The Most Precious Thing (37 page)
There was silence for some seconds, and then Alec nodded. ‘Yes, sir. I see.’
‘Now you get back to your comrades, there’s a good fellow. ’
It was only when Alec settled down for sleep with a blanket on his lower half some time later that it dawned on him how instinctive his reponse had been to the lieutenant’s question. And with the realisation came the knowledge that he had crossed a line tonight. Matthew was his son. He would defy Carrie and the rest of the world to say different, and when he got back home -
if
he got back home - things were going to change.
if
he got back home - things were going to change.
Chapter Seventeen
A sudden crackling from the wireless broke the silence, causing Carrie’s head to rise sharply. There was going to be another air raid warning. The wireless always crackled when they switched the radio transmitters off. Carrie braced herself, and sure enough the sirens began wailing a second later.
The sound jerked her out of her chair by the fire where she had been putting the finishing touches to a silk and crêpe wedding dress that Horwood’s van was collecting first thing in the morning. She hurried into the dark hall and shouted, ‘Matthew! Matt! Quick! Get up.’
She had to repeat herself twice before she heard the thud which meant his feet had landed on the floor. Carrie darted back into the kitchen and grabbed the bag containing the torch and flask full of tea. ‘Matthew!’ she shouted again. ‘Get down here.’
Since Matthew had been working down the pit he arrived home from his shift so dog tired it was all he could do to eat and then fall into bed, and Carrie was never sure he was really up and properly awake until she heard him coming down the stairs. Last week he had been half sleepwalking when he came downstairs and he still had a row of large bruises all down one side to prove it.
The heavy daylight raids over Britain had stopped at the end of September and the Luftwaffe were now mostly coming at night. Folk had barely had time to voice their delight that the Battle of Britain had been won - Winston Churchill’s broadcast praising the RAF, ‘Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few,’ had raised cheers from those who heard it - before an onslaught of a different kind had begun. Not that they had it bad, Carrie thought now. Not like Coventry or London, poor things.
The thought of London brought David’s father to mind and Carrie shivered. Night after night the Luftwaffe were blitzing London, and Ned had written to say he hadn’t slept in weeks for the sound of bombs, anti-aircraft guns and the shrill bells of fire engines and ambulances.
David had written back immediately, suggesting that he get out of the capital for a while but Ned had replied that as far as he was concerned it didn’t matter if you were north, south, east or west, if a bomb had your name on it, your time was up.
Carrie shivered again, wondering why the wail of the sirens always sounded so much more ominous when it was dark outside.
Matthew joined her a moment later, his hair ruffled and standing on end. He yawned long and loudly as he did up his trousers. Carrie handed him his jacket which was hanging ready on the back of a chair. ‘I hope your da is all right in Nelson Square,’ she said. ‘I wish he was somewhere else than there.’
‘You say that every time, Mam. Nelson Square is as safe as anywhere else.’
Carrie glanced at him but didn’t respond to the irritable tone in his voice because she knew she
did
say it every time. But she couldn’t help it. Instead she said quietly, ‘You ready?’
did
say it every time. But she couldn’t help it. Instead she said quietly, ‘You ready?’
‘I suppose so.’ He frowned at her, as though the air raid was her fault. ‘Although why we have to keep going backwards and forwards to the shelter is beyond me.’
‘You know why, Matthew, so don’t start that again. It’s safer.’ She opened the back door.
‘Huh.’ He pulled in his chin. ‘Safer than what? Safer than being down the mine every day? I doubt it.’
She said nothing more until they were in the shelter. She stared at him in the torchlight. ‘I know you hate the pit, Matthew, but--’
‘You don’t know the first thing about how I feel, you couldn’t. Not unless you’d been down there.’
‘Matthew--’
‘I know, I know.’ His voice was resigned. ‘Da is a miner and Granda’s a miner and his da before him.’
‘I wasn’t going to say that. I never have, have I? I was going to say that perhaps you could do something else.’
‘And be a laughing stock? Thanks very much. It would have been different if I’d never gone down in the first place but now I have, I can’t just not go. And you know how it is with the war on. I’m a miner’s son. I’m expected to do my bit.’
The last was so bitter Carrie winced. In the past few weeks since Matthew had begun work he had changed so drastically she felt she barely knew him. He never smiled, he never even spoke to her unless he had to. She didn’t know what to do. Strangely, he wasn’t so withdrawn with David, in fact she felt their relationship was better than it had ever been since he had gone down the pit. She just wished Matthew would talk to her properly, tell her exactly how he was feeling.
She watched him as he climbed into the six-foot single bunk bed she had bought from Binns for seventeen shillings and sixpence when the store had been advertising their special shelter furniture. With Matthew working down the pit she’d felt he needed something better than a chair to try and sleep in.
‘Would you like some tea?’ she asked quietly, sitting down on one of the three hardbacked chairs which, together with the bunk and a small table, made up the sum total of the furniture in the small structure.
‘Mam, you can’t call that brew we have these days tea,’ came the muffled reply. ‘And no, I don’t want some. I just want to sleep.’
‘All right. I won’t talk any more.’ After a moment or two Carrie switched off the torch and shut her eyes. As she sat in the darkness, her mind immediately began gnawing at the question that always nagged at her when she had time to think, which fortunately wasn’t often because however much she agonised, she never got any nearer to an answer. Why hadn’t she fallen for another bairn?
She didn’t understand why it hadn’t happened. It wasn’t as if anything was wrong in that regard. She liked their making on, more than liked it. In fact, if she thought about some of the things David did under cover of darkness in their big double bed, it made her hot all over, but it was a nice heat. Sort of glowing. But in the last year she’d begun to give up hope that she would ever be able to say to him, you’re going to be a da. It was so unfair on him after everything that had happened, but when she tried to talk to him about it he just said she was enough for him. Her and Matthew. But she knew Matthew was included to please her. Of course David wanted his own bairn, every man did, didn’t they?
She hadn’t felt able to discuss the matter with anyone, not even her mother, for a long time, and then one day when she was visiting Ada - the old woman’s legs were now so swollen she was virtually housebound - it had all come spilling out, mainly because she had found out that morning that yet again there was no baby.
Ada had listened quietly and then patted her hand. ‘Well, hinny, I know all about the disappointment each month an’ the hopin’ for the next. By, I tried everythin’, I did. Someone told me you’d fall if you drank stout an’ I fair lived on the stuff for a time, till Charlie got the idea I was turnin’ into a soak. Mind, that was one of the more pleasant things. Someone else said if you slept with a peeled onion under your pillow you’d have a bairn within nine months; it was a good job Charlie had trouble with his adenoids an’ couldn’t smell a thing ’cos everythin’ stank to high heaven. I tried smearin’ me you-know-what with goose grease, wearin’ a tassel of bairn’s hair under me clothes, drinkin’ a potion made with mornin’ dew an’ nettles, turnin’ round three times before I got into bed of a night an’ three come mornin’ - you name it, lass, an’ I tried it.’
Carrie’s smile encouraged Ada to continue. ‘Some bright spark said you had to lie with your legs in the air after. Now I’ve never been what you’d call a slip of a thing, an’ tryin’ to keep me legs up without Charlie catchin’ on wasn’t easy. He was a man who was always snorin’ within seconds after, but there’d be me with me legs over me head an’ me back breakin’. Damn near brained him once or twice when I slipped sideways. Nowt worked though.’ And then Ada patted her again. ‘But at least you an’ David have got your Matthew, lass. That’s a comfort to you both.’
Carrie had never wanted to confide her secret to someone as much as she did then but she just nodded, and since that time they had not talked of it again.
She must have been dozing when the explosion came but as her eyes flew open she knew it was Southwick way. She leaped up and opened the door into the backyard. The glow westwards confirmed her fears. Two more ground-shaking thuds came shortly after she was out in the open, anti-aircraft fire providing a constant smattering in the background. Her mam and da and the twins! And Lillian lived in Wellington Street just off the Green. Billy was all right, he and his new wife of three months had taken rooms in Liddell Terrace not far from Palmers. Her mam had tried to dissuade Billy from moving there, saying it was too close to the quays with their cranes and industry, but it looked as though it had been safer after all.
‘What’s up?’ Matthew joined her, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
‘They’ve fallen Southwick way.’ Carrie turned to him. ‘Go back in the shelter, I’m going to see if your grandma and granda are all right.’
‘Don’t be daft.’ Matthew caught at her arm. ‘Not till the all-clear sounds.’
‘I’m going now.’
‘You’re not, Mam. Da’ll kill me if I let you, you know he will. Wait a few minutes. It’ll probably all be over in a little while.’
‘I’m going now,’ she repeated frantically.
‘Then I’m coming with you.’
Once they were running Carrie realised the night wasn’t as black as it had seemed at first, although it was dark enough for her to miss her footing several times and nearly fall headlong. Matthew was just behind her and she could hear him panting and swearing but she didn’t waste her breath to rebuke him for the cursing as she would have normally. Once or twice wardens and fire-fighters called to them but Carrie ignored them, knowing they would do their job and send her home if they could.
As they turned into Cornhill Terrace from Southwick Road it became obvious that James Armitage Street had not been hit. The relief Carrie felt was countered by the fact that the Green was lit up and a fire engine had just arrived. Two or three firemen unrolling hoses were visible as black silhouettes against the red glow of the raging fires. Carrie paused on the corner of James Armitage Street, not sure whether to take Matthew to her parents before she went to check on Lillian and Isaac and the bairns. She did not include David’s mother in the thought.
As she stood hesitating, a voice said, ‘Carrie? Carrie, lass? An’ Matt? What are you doin’ here? Why aren’t you back home?’
‘Oh, Da.’ Carrie all but fell on Sandy’s neck. ‘I thought it might be you and Mam who’d got it.’
‘I’ve told you before, lass. Only the good die young.’
Carrie saw the flash of his teeth in the shadows, but then his voice became sombre. ‘I’ve come to check on young Lillian. With Isaac’s da havin’ died an’ his mam livin’ with the sister in Gateshead, I feel I owe it to Ned to keep an eye on the lass.’
‘I’m coming with you.’ Carrie turned to Matthew. ‘Go to Granda’s house and wait till we get back.’
‘Mam, I’m not a bairn.’
‘I know you’re not.’ Her voice softened. ‘But your granny will be upset, you know she can’t stand the bombing. Look after her.’
‘Danny and Len will be with Gran.’
‘They’re fire-watchin’ the night, lad,’ Sandy intervened. ‘An’ your granny gets herself in a right old two an’ eight about them an’ all the rest of you. It’ll put her mind at rest havin’ you with her.’
‘All right.’ It was grudging, but Matthew turned and disappeared into James Armitage Street without further argument.
‘I’d prefer you to go with him, lass.’
Carrie’s answer to this was to begin walking towards the Green where more firemen, ambulance crew and rescuers were mingling with neighbours and anxious relatives. One bomb had ripped up thirty feet or so of pavement, a gas main, which had caught fire, and electricity cables, and another had scored a direct hit on a house. As they neared the scene, firemen working on the blaze suddenly shouted for everyone to get clear - they’d seen the chimney stack shudder. In seconds the chimney from pots to base collapsed with a resounding crash. Clouds of lime, dust and soot filled the air as the front of the building disintegrated, blotting out visibility for a few moments. Through the thick and heavy atmosphere came the sound of choking and coughing and children crying.
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