by Maggie Hope
‘Jack,’ she protested. ‘It’s black dark out there and it is a long walk.’
Jack leaned over her and opened the car door, then pushed her. She couldn’t believe he meant it. She resisted for a moment, and he got out of the car and walked round to her side. He took hold of her arm and pulled her out roughly so that she stumbled, catching her foot in the strap of her bag which she had placed at her feet when she got in. She didn’t fall because he had such a tight grip on her arm, so tight it hurt.
‘Jack, please Jack,’ she gasped. Finding her feet, she grasped her bag,
‘Don’t you speak to me! You’re a little whore, that’s what you are, just as your mother must be. Leading a man on, teasing him until you get what you want.’
Cath gasped anew at the injustice of it. He thrust her away and went back round the car to the driver’s side. He opened the door but before he got in he shouted at her again.
‘Go on, get away before I give you a hiding you won’t forget. Tell your mother to get her claws out of my father, do you hear? Oh, I’ll see about this, I will, you’ll be out on your ears in the morning so you might as well pack your bags now. I ought to have known what you were, nothing but a miner’s brat. Why did I ever have anything to do with you?’
The anger was rising in Cath too now; her arm hurt where he had grasped it so tightly and his words, so full of contempt and scorn, rang in her ears.
‘Why? Why?’ she shouted at him. ‘Because you thought you could get what you wanted from me, that’s why. Because you had an itch and thought I could scratch it, that’s what. You thought it would be easy with a miner’s brat, didn’t you? Well, let me tell you—’
But what she had to tell him he didn’t hear because he was in the car and roaring away down the road, his lights disappearing over the slight rise in the road and the noise of his car engine fading in the distance.
It was very dark under the trees as she set off up the drive towards Half Hidden Cottage. She stumbled over the ruts, for the drive was not asphalted; it was really more like a cart track. She fell on one knee as she slipped over the edge into soft mud as the track curved away then straightened again. She had no flashlight because she had lent it to Annie so she could find her way in the house in the middle of the night. The wind soughed in the treetops, unearthly somehow. Don’t be stupid, she told herself; she was thinking like Annie.
Annie, oh Annie. Why hadn’t she just come home to Annie instead of being tempted by that man. Well, he had shown what he really thought of her, he had. Miner’s brat. The insult burned into her brain. Not the fact that she was a pitman’s daughter, but that he should make it a term of abuse. Oh God, she hated him, how she hated him.
She rounded the last bend in the drive and there was the house, looming even blacker than the black trees around. There was not a light on in the place.
Chapter Thirteen
‘Annie? Annie, where are you?’
Cath ran through the house from the front door to the kitchen, switching on the lights as she did so. She ran upstairs and through the bedrooms and the bathroom but there was no sign of Annie. Where was she? Annie wouldn’t be out in the dark; she hated the dark. Oh, she should have come home as she had intended to before she saw Jack in Old Elvet. Why had she let that man talk her into going with him? She admitted to herself that she had known he wouldn’t like her and her mother living in Half Hidden Cottage, but why had she thought he must already know? He was an arrogant snob, the worst kind there was.
The thoughts ran through her mind as she searched for Annie. She picked up her flashlight, which Annie had left on her dressing table, climbed into the attic to look for her, shining it all around and into the corners where the large, old roof trees met the walls. Tiny eyes shone in the light; birds twittered nervously. There were nests in crannies in the walls. Downstairs, Cath dithered in the hall, unsure what to do next. Annie might have gone out with her mother. She might have done, but it wasn’t likely. Sadie rarely took Annie anywhere. ‘She cries at the drop of a hat,’ she would complain to Cath. ‘I can’t be bothered with her. You take her.’ Annie’s eyes would fill up.
Cath gazed at the telephone on the hall table. It was newly installed and paid for by Mr Vaughan, for his own convenience more than anything. But whom could she ring? Dad had no phone. She couldn’t ring the police, what could she tell them? She was saved by the sound of a car coming up the drive and stopping before the house. She flung open the front door and ran towards it. Sadie was just getting out.
‘Where’ve you been? Have you got Annie with you?’
‘No, of course I haven’t, why would I? I’ve been out all afternoon; we’ve been shopping in Newcastle.’
‘Newcastle? You’ve been to Newcastle?’
‘I just said so, didn’t I? For goodness sake, Cath, stop making a fool of yourself in front of Mr Vaughan. And give me a hand with these bags, will you?’
Henry Vaughan was taking bags out of the boot of the car; bags with names on them like Bainbridge and Fenwick. He carried them round to Cath.
‘I have to go, I have a dinner engagement and I’m late as it is. Sorry,’ he said. ‘What did you say about the little girl? Well, she’s not so little, is she, surely she will be all right?’ He smiled at her, unconcerned.
‘She’s nervous, she wouldn’t be out in the dark on her own,’ said Cath.
‘Well, she’s not with us,’ he said easily. ‘I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow, Sadie.’ He climbed into his car.
‘Wait, you can help us – give us a lift to my father’s place at Eden Hope Colliery,’ said Cath.
‘I’m afraid I haven’t time now,’ he replied as he got into his car. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be all right. Probably playing at a friend’s house, I should think. Bye, now.’
Cath couldn’t believe it when he drove away. She turned to her mother. ‘Why didn’t you stop him?’ she cried. ‘We have to find Annie. She might be anywhere.’
‘For goodness sake, she’ll be all right, didn’t Henry just say so? If she is lost, it will do her good. She has to get over being such a little coward about everything.’ Sadie was beginning to sound angry. ‘Give me a hand with this lot, will you?’
Cath ignored her. She wondered whether to ring for a taxi; there was one in Winton Colliery. A returning soldier had started a service after the war.
‘Cath! Pick those bags up when you’re told.’
Cath picked them up and ran into the hall, where she threw them down and picked up the telephone.
‘What are you doing? I’m not made of money, you know, or are you going to pay the bill?’ Sadie asked.
‘I’m getting a taxi to Eden Hope. I’ll pay for the call,’ said Cath. ‘I asked you not to leave her alone, I asked you not to.’ Cath was repeating herself in her anxiety.
‘Don’t be stupid. I told you, she’ll be somewhere near, she’s too much of a baby to go far.’ Sadie was halfway up the stairs with her bags. ‘Come up and see what I’ve bought,’ she said. She was unconcerned; happy after her day’s shopping spree.
Cath was irresolute; she stood with the telephone in her hand for a moment, then she put it down again. It might be quicker to walk up towards the Hall and then cut down the path leading to Eden Hope Colliery. She had left the flashlight on the table by the telephone: now she picked it up, pulled on her coat and went to the front door.
‘Get yourself back here! Where are you going?’ Sadie shrieked, her mood changing. ‘Annie will be fine, I’m telling you, get back here!’
Sadie was shouting at no one; Cath was gone. She cut across the fields to the Hall and skirted round it to the path going down into the valley. She swept her light in broad swathes to either side and called as she went, stumbling once or twice on the uneven ground.
‘Annie, Annie, where are you?’ There was no answer. Annie might have caught a bus. It would still be daylight when she got home, and she might have just turned round and gone back to the main road when she found her mother was
out. She was probably sitting in her dad’s kitchen having supper with his new German wife.
At last Cath saw the lights of Eden Hope through the trees. First the lights in the pit yard, showing the tall chimney beside the winding engine house and the billow of smoke coming from it, the turning wheel. Then the rows of colliery houses and the new ones, some of them prefabricated and built where the older rows had been cleared. She ran down the road to his house and banged on the door.
‘Cath? What’s up?’ Gerda opened the door and stood aside for Cath to enter.
‘Is Annie here?’ Cath was breathless. She walked past Gerda to the door to the kitchen and stared around. ‘Where is she? I thought she would be here,’ she said.
‘No, she is not,’ said Gerda. ‘Why would she be here? She is not at home?’
‘No, she isn’t,’ said Cath. She sank down on a chair. ‘I was so sure she would have come here.’
‘I have not seen her,’ said Gerda. Her English was improving, Cath noted dimly, though her accent was not.
‘Where’s my dad?’ she asked. ‘I’ll have to tell him.’
‘He’s at work, of course,’ Gerda replied. ‘It is the night shift. Extra money, we need it for the baby, it’s due very soon.’ She patted her now very large stomach.
‘When poor Alfie has to pay money to your mother,’ she added plaintively.
‘I’ll go to the police,’ said Cath and rose to her feet.
‘No, there is no need. Annie is not a baby, Cath. She will be with a friend, no? You worry too much. Sit down, I will make tea. It’s so nice to see you. I am lonely here when Alf is on the night shift.’
Cath stared. What was the matter with her? She was as bad as her own mother. Nobody cared about Annie except her. When she thought about it, Annie had no friends, no real friends at all. She was usually on her own unless she was with Cath or her mother. And she played truant from school quite often. Sadie had had more than one letter about it; letters she usually threw into the fire.
‘No, I’ll go.’
Cath hurried along the street and up one of the colliery rows to where the police station stood. The small office was closed and dark but there was a light in the house where Sergeant Duffy lived. Cath knocked on the door and the sergeant himself opened it. He was in his shirtsleeves with his braces hanging down by his side.
‘What do you want? I’m off duty – do you know what time it is?’
‘My little sister had disappeared, Sergeant Duffy.’
‘Disappeared? You’d best come in. Wait, I’ll open the office.’ He closed the door on her and after a moment the light went on in the office. Inside, he was taking a form from a drawer. He looked up when she came up to the counter.
‘Oh yes, I know you. You’re Sadie Raine’s girl, aren’t you? Surely your sister is ten or eleven now, isn’t she? I thought you were talking about a little lass. Do you think I’ve nothing better to do than run after young lasses? She’s likely playing chasey with the lads if she’s owt like her m—’ He coughed as he saw Cath’s expression. ‘Any road, how long has she been missing?’
‘I don’t know, she was gone when I came in from work tonight.’
Sergeant Duffy put the form back in the drawer. ‘Tonight? She’s likely gone to the pictures with her mates, man. Do you think I’ve nowt better to do with my time?’ he repeated. ‘I was going to have my supper. Get along home before I charge you with wasting police time. You’ll likely find her there, any road.’
Cath found herself out on the road outside once again. She hadn’t even had time to explain, but what could she have said? Nobody took her seriously. She would walk back by the main road, she decided; perhaps she would find Annie there. Maybe she really was making a fuss about nothing.
It took her an hour and a half to walk back to Half Hidden Cottage and when she got there the house was in darkness. As she let herself in, Sadie called from upstairs.
‘Is that you, Cath?’
‘Yes, is Annie back?’
‘I don’t know, I was so tired I went straight to sleep. Go on to bed yourself, I told you she would be all right.’
Cath was desperately tired but she ran up the stairs and switched the light on in her room. Annie was not curled up in the bed. Nor was she in her own room. She wasn’t in the house. The only sound was a faint snoring from her mother’s room. Cath felt defeated. She took off her coat and sat down on the bed then lay back against the pillow. Her feet ached and she kicked off her shoes.
When Cath woke, light was filtering through the sides of the curtains. Outside a bird twittered and was answered by another. She could feel a dead weight of worry on her, but for a moment she couldn’t think what it was. Then she remembered. She sat up so swiftly her head spun. She stood and went into Annie’s room, but the covers on Annie’s bed were smooth and unruffled.
‘Mam,’ she cried, standing at the door of her mother’s room, ‘Mam, Annie didn’t come home. Something must have happened to her. I told you, didn’t I?’
‘By, I’ll kill the little brat when I get hold of her,’ Sadie grumbled. ‘Worrying me like this.’ She sat up in bed and yawned hugely. Her make-up from the day before was smeared on her face; black eyebrow pencil was down one side of her left eye where she had rubbed it, giving her a clownish look which was enhanced by her rouge, which had spread to her nose.
‘Isn’t it time you went to work?’ she asked as she pushed back the bedclothes and got out of bed. The room smelled stale with body odour and cheap scent.
‘Work? How can I go to work?’ asked Cath, astonished that her mother should suggest it. ‘I’m going out to look for her – she could have fallen in the dark and broken her leg or many a thing, couldn’t she?’
‘Good God, our Cath,’ said Sadie scornfully, ‘you’re always making a big thing out of nowt. Well, hadaway down and make us a pot of tea and we’ll talk about it.’
Cath was about to protest but decided that if she got her mother into a better frame of mind she might listen to her. She went down to the kitchen and lit the fire, propping the tin blazer on the bar to draw it up so she could boil the kettle. There was no gas ring fuelled by coal gas from the pit here, as it was too far out.
Eventually the kettle boiled and she brewed tea in the old brown teapot they had brought from Eden Hope. She wasn’t hungry and she was fairly sure her mother wouldn’t be either for Sadie rarely ate breakfast.
‘When Annie comes home we will have to see about getting her help, Mam,’ she said as Sadie came into the kitchen yawning and running her hands through her tousled hair. She sat down at the table and took the cup Cath handed to her.
‘What do you mean?’ she demanded ‘What help? There’s nowt the matter with her.’
‘There is,’ Cath insisted. ‘You know there is. We could go and ask Dr Short, couldn’t we? You can go to see a specialist for free now with the National Health.’
‘What specialist? Do you mean a mind doctor? You think our Annie’s not right in the head, don’t you? You think she should be in Winterton, don’t you? Why don’t you say what you mean?’
‘Mam,’ said Cath. Her heart sank. This wasn’t going the way she had planned.
‘I’m not having a lass of mine going in the loony bin, our Cath,’ Sadie declared. ‘I’d never be able to hold my head up again, not round here I wouldn’t. Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with her. She just needs to grow up, that’s all. A good hiding I’ll give her when I get her back, I can tell you, causing all this carry-on.’ She drained her cup and poured herself another, adding milk and sugar. All the time she chuntered on. ‘I’m not going looking for the little slut neither. She’s just making a bid for sympathy, that’s what she’s doing. I’ll give her sympathy when I get hold of her, you’ll see.’
Cath couldn’t stand any more. If she didn’t get away from her mother she might do her some damage, she thought. She felt like throwing the teapot at her – that would shut her up. For a moment she imagined the hot tea running down her moth
er’s face, making channels in the Max Factor pancake she still had on from yesterday. Cath ran from the kitchen and grabbed her coat before she could actually do it.
She went to the Hall first. Not to the front entrance, but to the kitchen door. The cook or Joseph, the chauffeur-handyman, might have seen her. It was worth taking the chance of encountering Jack or even Mr Vaughan, though she curled up inside at the thought. She had to find Annie, and it was possible she had come across the fields and hidden in one of the outbuildings when darkness fell.
The kitchen door was open, for it was an unusually pleasant day for early spring. The cook was making pastry at the scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen. She looked up as Cath stood in the doorway.
‘You’re trespassing,’ she said and carried on rolling out.
‘Good morning,’ said Cath, ‘I’m looking for my sister.’
‘Well, you’re not likely to find her here, are you?’ It was Joseph, the chauffeur-handyman who spoke this time. ‘I’ve seen nobody around this morning. But if I catch her I’ll send her home with a flea in her ear. Creeping around on private property, the very idea.’
‘We live here,’ said Cath with dignity. ‘In Half Hidden Cottage.’
‘Aye, I know where you live. Did you think we wouldn’t? Your mother’s that one battening on poor Mr Vaughan. You can’t keep anything like that from the staff, you know. We get to know everything. And it doesn’t give you the right to wander about the place, especially not around the house. So get yourself away.’
‘There’s nothing poor about him,’ Cath was stung into replying. ‘But it’s my little sister I’m worried about. I asked a civil question and I’d be glad of a civil answer.’
‘Aye well, we haven’t seen her,’ said the cook. She went to the oven and the smell of new-baked pies filled the room, making Cath dizzy. She hadn’t eaten since the evening before when she had a meal with Jack Vaughan in the Bridge Hotel. Now wouldn’t that little titbit give them something to think about?