by Maggie Hope
Brian introduced her to his mother and Mrs Musgrave smiled, but distantly, and murmured something inaudible.
‘I’ll just mash the tea,’ she said. ‘Brian, will you call your father?’ Then she disappeared into the kitchen. Cath, left on her own for a moment as Brian went into the garden, looked around the room. It was very tidy and very, very clean: the windows sparkled and the table linen was snowy white. There were photos of Brian as a boy in silver frames on the mantelpiece and framed prints of Durham Cathedral and Lumley Castle on the walls. But it was chilly; the sun didn’t reach this inner room and there was no fire in the grate. Cath shivered.
‘You’re not cold, are you?’ Mrs Musgrave had come back in with the teapot, which she put down at one end of the table. ‘We don’t usually have a fire after May, but of course if you’re cold—’ She broke off and looked at Cath inquiringly.
‘No, no, I’m quite warm enough,’ Cath assured her.
Altogether the tea went off quite well, Cath thought. Mr Musgrave, whom she knew from seeing him in the shop, was cheery and Brian tried to fill any gaps in the conversation. At least no one mentioned Annie or Mrs Robson or Ronnie. But Cath was very glad when Brian said they had to be going.
‘There’ll be a queue at the Odeon,’ he explained. Cath was relieved and Mrs Musgrave looked as though she was too for a minute. It was lovely to be out on the street again, where the air was cold and smelling faintly of coal dust and smoke from the distant colliery chimney.
‘I told you Mam would be all right, didn’t I?’ Brian smiled down at her as they walked to the car. ‘She likes you, I’m sure.’
Cath wasn’t so sure but she smiled back anyway. Maybe Mrs Musgrave was always quiet and cold and distant. She wondered if she was discussing the girl from the scandalous and notorious Raine family now she was alone with Brian’s father. Cath shrugged as she got into the car. What the heck, she told herself, she didn’t care what the woman’s true feelings were. Anyway, she might be completely wrong about her.
It was the end of July when Cath met Mark again, in Silver Street, the narrow medieval lane leading up to the marketplace in Durham. He was with a boy of about six or seven who looked so much like him Cath knew it must be his brother.
‘Well, look who it is,’ Mark said and smiled a lazy sort of smile. ‘How nice to see you, er, Catherine, isn’t it?’
‘Cath,’ she replied and tried to edge past him, but it was midday on a Friday and the narrow footpath was thronged with shoppers. It was practically impossible to step out into the road for traffic although it was being controlled by a policeman in a television booth in the market place.
‘Cath, then. Toby, this is a friend of mine; Cath, my little brother.’
Cath smiled at the young boy before saying, ‘I have to go, I’m on my dinner hour and I have to get back.’
‘Of course. We’ll walk with you.’
‘No, I need to go into Marks and Spencer’s,’ said Cath. ‘And I haven’t eaten yet.’
‘Excellent! Then we can buy something and eat by the river.’ Mark was insistent; he seemed to take her over, grasping her arm above the elbow and steering her towards the shop. In no time at all she found herself sitting beside him on a bench by the river while all three of them ate chicken-salad sandwiches from the Marks and Spencer’s café bar.
The boy finished his sandwich and went to stand by the river, staring into its depths. There was something about the white skin of the nape of his neck against his dark hair that made him look vulnerable somehow. He began picking up stones and skimming them over the flowing water. She glanced from him to Mark, sitting beside her. They weren’t so alike, she thought; Mark’s hair was lighter.
‘I’ll have to go now. Thanks for the sandwiches,’ she said. She scrunched up the packet and dropped it in the waste bin by the end of the bench as she got to her feet.
‘What’s the hurry?’ Mark asked.
‘Work, I’m due back.’
‘Well, we’ll walk along with you to Old Elvet.’
They walked along the towpath with Toby trailing behind. Mark watched Cath out of the corner of his eye. He would ask her out, he thought. He remembered that Jack had professed indifference to her the last time they had spotted her on Elvet Bridge so he wouldn’t be poaching, would he? And it would be great to win out where his friend had failed.
‘There you are, Cath!’
The voice startled him as they came up to the road. It belonged to a man in grey trousers, such as his father sometimes wore, and a tweed jacket and tie.
‘Hello, Brian,’ said Cath. ‘I had to go to Silver Street – sorry, I forgot to tell you.’
The fellow had taken her hand and Mark’s hackles rose. He stared Brian up and down haughtily.
‘Mark, this is Brian Musgrave, he works in the Architect’s Department. Brian, this is Mark, he’s at the university.’
The men did not shake hands. They simply nodded to each other coolly. A group of Italian tourists pushed past them chattering incomprehensibly and they moved back to the wall of the bridge. The antagonism between the two men was unspoken but tangible nevertheless.
‘We have to go, Cath,’ said Brian, taking hold of her arm. ‘We’ll be late for work.’
They moved away and Mark called after her. ‘See you soon, Cath.’
‘What’s he to you?’ demanded Brian as they walked up Old Elvet.
‘He’s a friend, that’s all. What business is it of yours?’ Cath felt like she was a bone between two dogs, and that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? She came to the door leading to the accounting machine rooms and went in, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder.
‘See you tonight?’ Brian said.
She thought about Mark as she stood by the sorter checking the punch cards that showed the salaries of the county’s teachers. The machine was running smoothly and she gazed out of the window to the old racecourse and the riverbanks beyond. She realised she was attracted to him and felt a moment of panic. What was she doing going out with Brian?
The sorter stopped and she gathered the cards and redid the couple with mistakes before taking them to the tabulator. Her thoughts wandered to the boy, Toby. He reminded her of someone, but of course it could just be that he resembled his brother.
‘You’re wanted in Mr Turin’s office, Miss Raine.’ Miss Green interrupted her thoughts. ‘Go along now.’
Cath had forgotten all about her irritation with Brian when she met him at five past five that evening. ‘I’ve been promoted to the tabulator,’ she said as she climbed into the car. ‘It’s more money and it means I’m on my way. Promising management material, Mr Turin called me. And it means I can look for a place of my own. I can afford a room in Durham now, after all. I won’t have any bus fares—’
‘You haven’t any fares now,’ said Brian. ‘And when we’re married you will be leaving anyway. I’m not having my wife working; people will say I can’t keep you.’
Chapter Eighteen
‘I’ll write as often as I can,’ said Brian. He was going away to do his National Service, which had been deferred until he’d taken his final examinations as a draughtsman. Now he was off to Padgate to begin his two years in the Royal Air Force.
They stood close together on Darlington Station along with quite a few other young men and their girlfriends. It was a bright sunny day in September, but the north wind whistled down the line heralding autumn and Cath shivered.
‘You’re cold,’ said Brian and put his arms around her. She looked up at the ornate ironwork of the roof and across to where Stephenson’s Locomotion No. 1 stood, looking frail and small compared with today’s engines.
‘I’ll write too, of course,’ she said. Thankfully, she heard the announcement of the imminent arrival of the train for King’s Cross and all stations in between. Brian would be changing at York for Manchester. The train steamed into the station and Cath wondered why she wasn’t distraught. A girl close by was crying and clinging to a skinny youth in a suit too lar
ge for him. Bought for him to grow into by the time he had done his time, she thought.
Brian caught her by surprise by kissing her hard on the lips. ‘I’ll write tonight,’ he said and climbed aboard the train. She waited until the doors closed and the guard sounded his whistle and the train moved out. Brian was standing at a window, waving, and she waved back.
‘It’s a blooming disgrace, they shouldn’t have to go away,’ the girl who had been crying said to her. ‘It’s five years since the war ended. Why do they want soldiers, any road?’
‘I don’t know, I’m sure,’ Cath murmured. ‘I have to go now, catch a bus.’ As she walked down Victoria Road she realised that what she mostly felt was a sense of relief. In fact, she was suddenly aware of the sunny day and her heart lifted. Oh, she was fond of Brian but he was a bit controlling, wasn’t he? She had got into the habit of considering his wishes first. Now she could do what she liked.
Well, it wasn’t as if Brian was going to war, was it? He wouldn’t be, anyway; he would probably be doing a desk job just as he did at home. His eyes were not up to scratch; he had to wear glasses for close work.
Tonight she might go to the dance at the rink in Spennymoor. Joan went there every Saturday.
‘Why don’t you come too?’ Joan had asked her at work yesterday. ‘You don’t have to stay in just because your boyfriend has gone in the forces.’ Well, she would go; she could catch a bus easily from Half Hidden Cottage. That was where she was going this afternoon, to see her mam. Sadie was always complaining that she was neglected, now that she was on her own in the cottage. Even Henry Vaughan didn’t visit her very often but at least she still had the cottage. Henry had never got over the scandal of Annie and Ronnie Robson.
Cath was sitting on the bus gazing out of the window at the sun-dappled fields where already corn was being harvested, when someone sat down heavily beside her. She turned to see who it was and was shaken to discover it was Eric Bowron, Eric from Winton, Ronnie Robson’s cousin. Eric: the lad she remembered so vividly pawing at her body and thrusting his leg between hers when she was just a kid. Instinctively, she shrank from him.
‘Hello there,’ he drawled and grinned. He looked her over and licked his lips, his light blue eyes seeming to be able to see right through her clothes. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
‘There are plenty of empty seats on the bus, go and sit somewhere else,’ she said.
‘No, I want to sit here.’
‘Let me out then and I’ll sit somewhere else.’
‘Have you missed me? I’ve been in the army,’ he said. ‘But I’m out now, National Service finished. Now I can attend to a few things that need attending to. You, for one.’
‘Me? You’ve got no business to do with me!’
‘Aye, but I have. With you and your sister.’
He was leaning in close to her now, pressing up to her and squashing her against the side of the bus. Cath looked round for the conductress but she was nowhere to be seen. This was the top of a double-decker bus and the conductress must be downstairs. There was no bell close, and only one other person aboard and she was making her way down the stairs.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
Cath was scared; seized with an unreasoning panic, which she was struggling to control. It was fuelled by the memory of that day long ago when he had held her down in the grass. And touched her body.
‘Nothing to what I will do, I promise you. You and your family had my cousin put in the loony bin and killed my gran. I will make you pay for it.’
‘It wasn’t any of our fault!’ Cath said. She was beginning to get really scared now. She looked ahead to see how far they were from a bus stop. It was just around the bend in the road ahead, she realised thankfully. She stood up, ready to push past him but just at that moment the bus swerved into the stop and she stumbled across him and he put a hand on her back.
‘By, I didn’t know you were that keen, we can get off here and go behind that hedge if you like,’ said Eric. His hand slid down to her bottom and he squeezed hard.
‘Get off me! Get off me!’ Cath pushed and shoved her way past him into the aisle and ran to the stairs. His laughter followed her.
‘I’ll be seeing you,’ he said and started to whistle the tune of the old song. The bus was moving as she jumped off and the conductress shouted something after her. She didn’t look back, so she didn’t see Eric staring fixedly at her – his expression had changed. Now it was vindictive.
She was about a mile from Half Hidden Cottage. Well, she would just have to walk it. When she came to a stile in the hedge, she hesitated: it would cut half a mile from her walk but the path went across Vaughan land in places.
Still, the wind had freshened and there were dark clouds gathering. It would probably rain soon and she wasn’t dressed for it. She would take a chance, she decided; it was unlikely that Jack Vaughan was home anyway, and even if he was he probably wouldn’t be out in the grounds. And what did she care? Cath asked herself as she set out on the path across the fields. She was more worried about the threat from Eric. It wasn’t just to her but to her mother and Annie. She shivered. She could still feel his hand on her.
‘I haven’t got much time, Cath,’ said Sadie. She was looking smarter than Cath had seen her for a long time, quite like the old Sadie, in fact. ‘I’m sorry, but Henry rang and he wants to come over. I’m hoping we’ll be going out to dinner tonight, maybe the George or somewhere like that.’
‘Mam, I told you I was coming,’ said Cath. ‘Why didn’t you tell him? I’ve come this way from Darlington but I might as well have just gone straight back to Durham.’ She sat down on the bed. They were in Sadie’s bedroom and her mother was sitting at the dressing table putting on her make-up. She didn’t reply for a minute, for she was applying eyebrow pencil to her plucked eyebrows, carefully shaping a sort of half-moon that gave her a permanently surprised look. She put down the pencil and turned to look at her daughter.
‘I’m sorry, lass, but I had to say yes to him. After all, he lets me have this place and helps me out when I need it.’
‘I thought you didn’t like it here on your own,’ said Cath. ‘Anyway, maybe you should move. That Eric Bowron is threatening us about his cousin. And he says his gran died because of us. You shouldn’t be on your own.’
‘Eric Bowron? Oh aye, I know who you mean. Where did you see him?’
‘He was on the bus. He’s just come out of the army. He’s a nasty piece of work, Mam.’
‘I’m not frightened of him. Henry will protect me.’
‘He’s not here for much of the time,’ Cath reminded her.
‘No, but he’ll see to it, I dare bet. In fact, it might be just the thing to get Henry more interested. He’ll frighten him off, you see, lads like that are all wind and water.’
Sadie thought for a minute then began to apply a postbox-red lipstick to pouting lips. She smoothed them together then went on, ‘I might just get our Annie back, an’ all. Tell our Patsy I need her.’
‘No! Don’t do that. He threatened her besides us, and you know she’s not up to it.’
Sadie considered. ‘Aye well, we’ll see. Mebbe our Annie is better off in Shildon. Aw, stop worrying, our Cath, and tell me which costume to wear. Or will I wear a dress? It’s not too cold, is it? If we go out and it is cold I can get him to buy me a new coat.’
Cath despaired of her. Sadie was hanging on to Henry for dear life, and she wouldn’t do or say anything to make him give her up altogether. She didn’t want to lose the house, for one thing. She didn’t like the mutterings against her that she had heard in Eden Hope or Winton and she couldn’t go back there – they would only rejoice if she got her comeuppance.
‘You’d best be going before Henry comes,’ said Sadie. ‘Go on, lass, don’t spoil it for me. You know I like to see you, but it’s awkward today. Can you come back next week?’
As Cath walked down the drive towards the bus stop she smiled wryly to herself. Her mam would
never change. She reached the end of the drive and turned left for the stop. She had decided to give the rink a miss for tonight and go back to her room in Durham. She might go to the dance at the County Hotel or she might not. It wasn’t much fun on your own but it was a long bus ride to Spennymoor.
In the end, Cath decided to go to the County. There would be sure to be girls from work there and she definitely didn’t want to be on her own. The encounter with Eric had upset her, even though she told herself he wouldn’t follow her to Durham. Annie was safe enough, for she didn’t go anywhere without Aunt Patsy, and Sadie would be all right for she was going out with Henry Vaughan. It was probably all talk on Eric’s part, anyway: he liked to scare girls. Still, she would go to the County and get a taxi home, even it if was costly.
The ballroom in the County Hotel was thronging. A five-piece dance band was playing a modern waltz when Cath went in. She saw one of the girls from work, Rosemary Carr, who had taken over her job on the punch-card machines, and went over to her. The band played ‘Moon River’, the trumpet lead soaring over the dancers as they whirled and weaved around the floor.
‘Hello, Rosemary, on your own, are you?’
‘Waiting for my boyfriend. You know, Jimmy from the Licensing Department.’
‘I’m by myself. Brian’s gone in the Air Force.’
‘Jimmy won’t be long, he—’
Whatever Rosemary had been going to say was interrupted by a man’s voice. She automatically stepped forward and he put an arm around her and swung her into the crowd of dancers. It was the Progressive Barn Dance and Cath was soon snapped up too and they went into the preliminary quickstep. It was considered bad form to refuse to dance with anyone.
It was at the halfway stage of the dance that Cath came face to face with someone she knew only too well.
‘Nice to see you, Cath,’ said Jack. ‘What have you been doing with yourself?’
The music had stopped and the band were turning over music sheets ready to start again while the couples made small talk or flirted with their partners. Cath made to walk off the floor. Jack grasped her round the waist and drew her with him out of the circle and into the middle of the floor, where a few couples who didn’t want to progress were just beginning to dance as the band started again.