Father McHaffie took a sip of his tea before he spoke, his voice cold. ‘Olive has something to tell you and she asked me to be present. I must warn you it will be a shock, Mrs Morgan.’
As her mother’s eyes shot to her face Olive licked her lips. She had gone over what she was going to say umpteen times but now the moment was here she found she couldn’t speak.
Cissy, her eyes wide and questioning now, looked from her daughter’s white face to that of the priest’s, and then back to Olive again, but it was George who said quietly, ‘What is it, lass? What’s wrong?’
Olive took a deep breath as her stomach turned over. ‘It – it was on New Year’s Eve . . .’
When Ruby flung open the back door and walked into the kitchen, she was aware of several things simultaneously. Her father was sitting with his head in his hands, her mother was crying and Father McHaffie had a cup to his lips, but it was to Olive, whose head had jerked up as she’d entered, that she said, ‘I hate you. How could you, how could you do that? You’re dirty, disgusting.’
‘That is quite enough.’ Father McHaffie had put down his cup and stood up. ‘Control yourself.’
‘Control myself?’ There was no respectful ‘Father’ and neither was there any deference in Ruby’s attitude when she cried, ‘You know what she’s done and you tell me to control myself? She’s done it to spite me, she planned it, and with Adam. She doesn’t even like him, she never has, and yet she forced herself on him when he was drunk. She’s worse than any dockside dolly.’
Ruby heard her mother gasp but she and the priest were glaring at each other and she didn’t look her mother’s way as Father McHaffie growled, ‘What is done is done and this is helping no one. Furthermore, your speech and conduct leave a lot to be desired. Olive has confessed her sin and is repentant before God—’
‘Repentant before God? And that makes it all right?’
‘First and foremost it is against the Almighty that your sister has sinned.’
‘Well, forgive me, Father, but I don’t see it that way.’ Ruby had always been afraid of the priest like everyone else but her sense of injustice had done away with the fear. For the first time in her life she was seeing Father McHaffie as merely a man, and a man who had been sitting at the table with her parents and Olive sipping tea as cosy as you like. It was this that caused her to say, ‘If you think Olive is repentant then that’s because she’s pulled the wool over your eyes, and even if she is, which she isn’t, a few Hail Marys and attending Mass till kingdom come won’t take away the wickedness of what she’s done to me.’
Father McHaffie had gone red in the face, and it was Cissy who said quickly and apologetically, ‘Ruby is upset, Father. This has been a terrible shock for us all. She doesn’t mean anything.’
‘I know what Ruby means, Mrs Morgan, and of your two daughters I think it is the younger one you need to pray for the most.’ The priest glanced at George who was still sitting at the table and his voice was a bark when he said, ‘If you are ready to accompany me to the Gilberts’ I suggest we leave now before your daughter further puts her soul in peril.’
‘I haven’t put my soul in peril by speaking the truth and God knows what’s in Olive’s heart even if you don’t.’
‘That’s enough!’
The look that Father McHaffie gave Ruby as he spoke caused her to step back a pace, and even in her rage and pain she wondered how a man of God, a priest, could appear so devilish. It was the shock of what she had seen in his face that kept her silent as the priest strode out of the kitchen into the hall, her father following a moment later but stopping long enough to squeeze her shoulder as he passed her, his eyes full of pity and sorrow.
They heard the front door shut behind the two men and Ruby turned to look steadily at her sister.
‘I don’t know why you did what you did on New Year’s Eve but I tell you this, you’ll live to regret it. It wasn’t a mistake on your part – you knew exactly what you were doing and the consequences. Oh, not the bairn, even you couldn’t have planned that, but you wanted to spoil what me and Adam had, that’s the truth of it. And all this talk of repentance that Father McHaffie was on about, I don’t believe a word of it.’
‘You shouldn’t have spoken to him like that, hinny.’
Cissy’s voice caused Ruby’s gaze to swing from her sister to her mother.
‘How can you say that after what she’s done?’
‘He’s a priest, lass.’
‘I don’t care. He’s still just a man.’
‘Ruby!’
‘Well, he is.’ Ruby stared defiantly at her mother. For some time now she had been having thoughts about the way Father McHaffie scared the wits out of everyone and acted like God Himself, especially when he gave his fire-and-brimstone sermons about the damnation of non-Catholics. Mrs Walton wasn’t a Catholic, but a kinder and better person you couldn’t wish to meet. And there were other things too, such as the way he threatened his flock with purgatory every Sunday and demanded unquestioning obedience and acceptance of everything he said. She had tried to talk about it with Adam but he always changed the subject or said, much as her mother had done, that Father McHaffie was a priest as though that ended any discussion.
Before Ruby’s eyes there rose a picture of Adam as he had looked walking away down the lane, and now she turned to Olive again, her eyes narrowed and her hands clenched. ‘You’re evil, that’s what you are. You were determined to ruin my life, weren’t you? And to trick Adam like that – you’re beyond contempt.’
Olive stood up and now there was no trace of the penitent about her when she hissed, ‘It takes two to make a bairn. I don’t know why you’re putting all the blame on me.’
‘Because Adam told me how it happened and I believe him.’
‘Of course you do. You’d hate to believe he could like someone besides you, wouldn’t you?’
‘He doesn’t like you, not in any way. He loathes you, you sicken him. He wants me to go down south with him and get married there, and he said you could go into the workhouse for all he cares.’ Ruby’s words were dipped in the poison of her hate but nevertheless carried the unmistakable ring of truth. She saw Olive blanch and felt a moment of bitter satisfaction. ‘But don’t worry, I wouldn’t let him touch me now if he was the last man on earth, not when he’s been contaminated by you. You can have him but just remember he’ll never forgive you for this any more than I will.’
‘Ruby, lass, don’t say such things.’ Cissy tried to take her daughter’s arm but as Ruby jerked herself free, she added, ‘Olive is your sister, your own flesh and blood, and with the lads gone—’
‘You’re right, Mam. She’s my sister but she’s never liked me and you know that as well as I do. Nothing I’ve done has been right as far as she’s concerned, not from when we were bairns. She’s spiteful and cruel—’
‘Lass, I know you’re hurting and the good Lord Himself wouldn’t blame you for feeling the way you do, but Adam’s more to blame than Olive, you must see that? To give a lass a bairn . . . Well, it speaks for itself. And Olive hadn’t been with another lad – it was her first time.’ Cissy was desperate to pour oil on troubled waters. ‘She didn’t know what she was doing, that’s the truth of it, and Adam was drunk and took advantage.’
‘You’re saying he raped her?’ Ruby could hardly believe her ears, or that her mother was so gullible. ‘Is that what she told you? Well, let me tell you, Mam, that there was a raping all right, but not on Adam’s side.’
‘Ruby!’
The shock in Cissy’s voice conveyed itself to Ruby, and she said tightly, ‘Don’t look at me like that, Mam. It’s the truth.’
‘No, lass, no. I don’t believe that.’ The reproach in Cissy’s face cut Ruby to the quick. Somehow she was the one who had been put in the wrong. And when Cissy further compounded her blundering by saying, ‘This is a terrible thing to have happened and my heart goes out to you, hinny, you must know that, but Olive is as much a victim as you are in all
this,’ she knew she had to get out of the house before she said something unforgivable to her mother. Her life was in ruins; it was supposed to be her wedding day tomorrow and instead Olive had taken Adam away from her, apparently with their mother’s blessing.
She turned to Olive, her voice low and deadly as she said, ‘You’ve made your bed and you’ll have to lie on it but it’ll be a bed of thorns, Olive Morgan. You think you’ve won now but you haven’t.’
The two sisters regarded each other for a moment more; Ruby as white as a sheet but with her eyes blazing, and Olive, the taller of the two, appearing even taller with her chin lifted and her thin mouth set in a grim line.
When Cissy said helplessly, ‘Please . . .’ it could have been directed at either of them, but it was enough to cause Ruby to swing round sharply and make for the hall. She ran up the stairs, not knowing what she was going to do or where she was going but only that she had to leave. Her suitcase was already partly packed with the clothes and things she had planned to take to her new home after the wedding celebrations here the next day, and now she added more to it, along with the money she had been saving for a little while to stock up the cupboards and buy bits and pieces for their new home. Adam had picked up the keys from the landlord two days ago and the second-hand furniture they had bought had been delivered that same afternoon, when Adam and his brothers had finished their shift at the colliery and could be present to put it in place. All her bottom-drawer linen and towels were there; they had even made the bed up that night two days ago amid much laughter and kissing. And then the next day Olive must have come to the colliery gates to wait for Adam . . .
She glanced at her wedding dress and the two bridesmaids’ dresses hanging on the back of the wardrobe door. If she’d had a knife in her hand she would have slashed the frocks to ribbons. They had been a labour of love, and she and Mrs Walton had spent long hours on the finer details of her bridal dress, every stitch, every little aspect perfect and beautifully fitted to her figure. Olive had said more than once that she thought Mrs Walton would have been better spending her money on something useful like curtains or bedspreads, rather than on finery that would be worn for a few hours and then packed away in mothballs. Stupid, Olive had called her, when very soon Adam could well be on half-time at the colliery or even laid off the way the country was going.
Well, she had been stupid all right, Ruby thought bitterly, but not about her dress.
Taking the frocks off their hangers she rolled them up and tied them into a bundle with the cord of her dressing gown. They were Mrs Walton’s by rights and she’d take them to her. It would be up to Mrs Walton what she did with them; she didn’t care one way or the other.
Fastening the suitcase she picked it up, and with the bundle tucked under one arm she walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Olive was again sitting at the table and her mother was mashing a pot of tea; she looked up as Ruby entered and said quickly, ‘I was just going to bring you a cup up, hinny,’ before her gaze went to the suitcase. ‘You’re not going somewhere, not tonight?’
Did her mother seriously think she could bear to stay under the same roof as Olive for a minute more?
Ruby’s face must have expressed how she felt because in the next moment, tears in her voice, Cissy said, ‘No, lass, no, don’t leave like this. Please, hinny, wait till your da gets back and we’ll talk about things.’
Quietly, and without glancing Olive’s way, Ruby said, ‘I’m going, Mam.’
‘But where, and at this time of night?’
She had known where to seek refuge from the moment she had looked at the dresses on the wardrobe door. ‘I’ll be at Mrs Walton’s.’
‘Lass, no, this is all wrong.’
No one knew that better than her. Again Ruby’s face spoke for her and Cissy murmured, ‘When will you be back?’
‘I won’t be coming back, Mam.’ Somehow her mother’s championing of Olive hurt more at this moment than her sister’s treachery and Adam’s betrayal.
‘Of course you will, this is your home.’
Not any more. As Ruby looked at her mother she knew with a quiet certainty that she would never return to live under this roof with its memories of a life that might have been. Whether Olive remained here or whether Father McHaffie had his way and Adam married her sister, she was saying goodbye, and she made this clear when she said, ‘I’ll write and let you know where I am when I’m settled.’
‘Where you are? What do you mean? You just said you were going to Mrs Walton’s. She’ll let you stay there for a bit, won’t she?’
When Ruby made no reply Cissy walked across and hugged her, but her daughter’s body was stiff and unresponsive and after a moment Cissy stepped back a pace, saying helplessly, ‘Be careful, lass, the pavements are like glass. Do you want me to walk along of you?’
Ruby shook her head. She just wanted to get away. She had reached the back door and opened it when Olive’s voice behind her said, ‘Whether you believe me or not I didn’t want it to be like this.’ Ruby paused for one second but she didn’t turn round or speak before stepping into the bitter cold, leaving the door ajar behind her. She walked across their small yard and opened the gate into the back lane and again she left this open, and as she trudged down the track that was practically knee high with snow she expected any moment that her mam would come running after her calling her name, but the snowy night was silent and she was the only person alive in the whole wide world.
And now the tears streamed down her face.
Chapter Three
Vera Walton stared aghast at the young lass she thought of as a daughter. When Ruby had knocked on her door the evening before and had almost collapsed into her arms it had been some time before she could get the full story of what had happened out of the distraught girl amid her storm of weeping. Once she had become aware of the whole sorry mess she had made Ruby a hot drink, adding a good measure of the brandy she kept for medicinal purposes and which had been in the back of the cupboard for goodness knew how long. She’d then made up a makeshift bed on the sofa with thick blankets and a spare eiderdown. It was only after another mug of tea, again with a large dollop of brandy, that she had persuaded Ruby to lie down, a stone hot-water bottle at her feet. Ruby had dropped off within minutes, worn out by crying and no doubt aided by the amount of alcohol in her bloodstream.
Now it was seven o’clock in the morning and they’d just had toast and a pot of tea, but it wasn’t Ruby’s chalk-white face or the change in her persona that worried Vera – it was the fact that the lass had just told her of her intention to leave Sunderland that very day.
‘Listen, m’dear, I know you are dreadfully upset and with good cause, but don’t do anything hasty. You can stay here as long as you please, you know that. We can clear out the spare room where I store the material and whatnot and that can be yours. You’ll be quite at liberty to come and go as you see fit, and I would be delighted to have you here indefinitely.’
Ruby forced a smile as she said quietly, ‘Thank you, Mrs Walton, and I appreciate your kindness more than you will ever know, but I need to get away. Right away.’
‘I can quite understand you thinking like that but all I’m saying is give it a few days until you are feeling a little better. Now is not the time to make such decisions.’
Ruby inclined her head. ‘You are probably right but I can’t stay. I have to go now. I – I don’t want to see anyone I know.’
‘You don’t have to. I will make sure of that.’
She wouldn’t be able to. Ruby looked at the old lady whom she thought of as more of a grandmother than an employer. She had never known her own grandparents – both her mother’s parents and her father’s had died before she was born – but they couldn’t have been nicer than Mrs Walton. And she knew Mrs Walton was talking sense and that she meant well, but she had to leave the town now, today, before Adam tried to see her or her parents came round, especially her da. She might weaken if she saw her da and she couldn’t afford
to do that because she knew she would go mad if she remained in Sunderland. Adam would marry Olive; the combined weight of both sets of parents and not least Father McHaffie would see to that. Olive’s stomach would swell and some time in the early autumn Adam’s child would be born, and she couldn’t, she just couldn’t play the auntie when that happened.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Walton, but my mind’s made up.’
Vera sighed and made one last effort. ‘Ruby, you know how much I think of you, don’t you? Having your company here for the last four years has made them the happiest of my life since my poor Maurice died.’ She had told Ruby more than once how her husband had perished in the last few weeks of the Boer War, one of over a thousand British casualties lying dead in the hills at Spion Kop, seven miles from the garrison town of Ladysmith. She had mourned him ever since and still wore black from head to foot. ‘I wasn’t going to mention this until it became necessary but I made a new will a little while ago and you are my sole beneficiary, dear. This house is bought and paid for and the business provides a steady income. Moreover, you enjoy the work, don’t you, and you have a gift for it, remarkable in one so young. Your life would be very comfortable and it would certainly mean a great deal to me if you stayed. We get on well, don’t we?’
‘Oh, Mrs Walton, I never imagined – I mean, I can’t believe –’ Ruby took a deep breath as she tried to pull herself together. She reached out and took the old lady’s hands, and there were fresh tears in her eyes when she said, ‘Thank you from the bottom of my heart. And I would have loved to continue here with you. I’ve always felt that you’re like family, and you’ve been so good to me, but . . .’
One Snowy Night Page 3