Like Mother, Like Daughter

by Maggie Hope

  Cath went out of the ward and down the corridor in a daze. There was nothing she could do for Annie, nothing at all. She felt guilty. She had failed her sister: Annie thought it and so did Aunt Patsy. Just outside the door the policewoman was smoking a surreptitious cigarette and leaning against the painted corrugated iron of the hut cladding.

  ‘You want to think before you speak in there,’ Cath said to her. ‘Just because a patient is behind a screen, doesn’t mean they can’t hear, you know.’

  The policewoman shrugged. ‘I said nowt but the truth,’ she replied as she threw the stub of the cigarette on the ground and pressed it out with the sole of her shoe. ‘A waste of our time it is, minding folk that want to kill themselves. Let them, that’s what I say.’ She turned and pushed open the ward door and allowed it to swing to with a bang behind her.

  Cath was seething but she walked up the ramp and across to the car park. Mark saw her coming and sprang out of the car to open the door for her.

  ‘Get in.’ He waited until she was settled before going on. ‘How was she, your sister?’

  ‘Coming round, I think. Still very quiet and sleepy.’ She turned her head and gazed at him, judging his reactions.

  ‘The psychiatrist is coming to see her. And the police are there. I’d forgotten it is an offence to try to commit suicide.’

  Mark nodded. ‘Barbaric, isn’t it?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of it much before but this has brought it home to me.’ She thought with bitterness of the policewoman.

  Mark put his hand over hers and squeezed it. ‘Don’t think of that – nothing will come of it. It rarely does in such cases.’

  ‘Annie’s not a case, she’s my sister,’ said Cath. Still, she was glad of his sympathy and comforting presence. It was funny; she felt a closeness to him that was at odds with her first view of him when she had met him with Jack in the woods near Eden Hope.

  ‘Where do you want to go now?’ Mark asked. ‘Back to Durham?’

  ‘No, I’d rather stay near for a while. I’ll go to my mother’s.’

  ‘Oh yes, Half Hidden Cottage.’

  Cath glanced quickly at him but his face was expressionless. Of course he knew where her mother lived, he was friendly with the Vaughans, wasn’t he? He would have heard of her mother all right.

  ‘Look, we could go out for lunch. Or we could go to my parents in Staindrop. My mother wouldn’t mind us dropping in at all.’

  ‘I don’t know …’

  ‘Oh come on, you don’t want to be on your own. Too much time to think.’

  Mark started the car and drove out of the hospital grounds and turned right on to the Barnard Castle road. Cath lay back against the leather seat and closed her eyes for a few minutes, for she felt very tired suddenly and willing to leave everything to him. It was as they drove through West Auckland and were climbing the hill leading to Staindrop that the thought of Eric popped into her mind. Eric had threatened her and her family on the bus that day. Had he followed her to Shildon and seen Annie and threatened her? He could have done. Though surely she would have known if he were about. But why hadn’t she thought of Eric before? He had been so vindictive when he’d cornered her on the bus.

  ‘What is it?’ Mark slowed down at the top of Raby Bank and looked at her. Cath had sat up and gasped, and now she was clutching the edge of the seat convulsively. He pulled into the side by the castle wall.

  Cath forced herself to relax. ‘I just thought of something.’ She told him about Eric and how he had threatened her on the bus. She had to explain further about what had happened to Annie but was surprised that he didn’t know all of it anyway.

  Mark was angry; she could see it in the way his mouth set in a thin line. ‘It seems to me that this man is dangerous,’ he said.

  ‘Oh no, I don’t think so, not really. A bully perhaps, and that would be enough to frighten Annie.’ He had frightened her too, but no, he wouldn’t actually hurt them. Of course he wouldn’t. He was just angry for his cousin and his grandmother, poor soul; none of it had been her fault.

  Mark studied her for a moment then restarted the car. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘We will have to see. For now I think we should just go to Staindrop and have a nice meal with my family. Try to put it out of your mind for a while.’ He would not forget it, though, he told himself. He would check out this lad from the mining village and see what he was about. For Mark was beginning to realise he felt more for this girl than he had for anyone. He didn’t care that Jack was mooning after her; in a situation like this it was every man for himself.

  ‘Mum, this is Cath. You don’t mind that I brought her along, do you?’

  ‘Of course not. How nice to meet you, Cath,’ Daphne Drummond said and looked Cath up and down. Cath was in her blue tweed suit and a fresh white blouse, so she felt reasonably sure she would pass muster. After all, the suit had cost her half a month’s salary. Daphne frowned slightly then covered it up with a smile.

  ‘Do come and sit down. What would you like to drink?’ She indicated the drinks stand, which was in the shape of a globe though now the top half was turned back, revealing an array of bottles and glasses.

  ‘Just water, please,’ said Cath. The table was set lavishly with salads and pâtés and cold meats despite the fact that rationing was still in force.

  ‘Nonsense, you must have a glass of white wine at least,’ said Daphne. ‘Nigel?’ Her husband handed Cath a glass of wine. She took a sip and found it acidic on her tongue, but still refreshing.

  Cath couldn’t help comparing the meal with the one at Brian’s house. Both Brian’s mother and Mark’s had the same attitude towards her, she realised, as she took another sip of wine. The wine definitely made her feel better, perked her up a bit. She took another drink. Annie was going to be fine, she told herself. Even if she had to go into Winterton she would get out again, surely, and Aunt Patsy would look after her.

  Cath began to relax. What did it matter if Mrs Drummond sat at the table regarding her with the air of unassailable superiority she had noticed in other middle-class women? She smiled at the older woman tolerantly and took another sip of wine. Mr Drummond refilled her glass.

  ‘Do have a little of the smoked salmon,’ Daphne Drummond said. ‘What about you, Mark?’

  Mark helped Cath to a couple of slivers of smoked fish and then put some on his own plate. Cath ate a mouthful then put down her fork and took another sip of wine.

  Mark leaned over to her and whispered in her ear. ‘I’d go easy on the wine if I were you. It can have an effect on someone who is overtired.’

  Cath looked at him. ‘It tastes nice,’ she said. ‘I don’t think much of the smoked salmon, though. I prefer tinned salmon with a drop of vinegar, myself.’

  Mark smiled. ‘Squeeze a little lemon juice on it,’ he advised.

  ‘I must admit I like tinned salmon too,’ his father intervened.

  ‘Nonsense, there’s no comparison,’ Daphne snapped, then made a determined effort to cover up her disapproval. ‘Nigel, go and call Toby, will you?’ She looked across at Cath. ‘We are fairly relaxed about lunch on Sundays, but Toby would miss it altogether if I didn’t remind him.’

  ‘My little sister is a poor eater,’ said Cath and felt a pricking behind her eyes and for a few minutes was engaged in willing herself not to cry. Luckily, Mr Drummond came in with Toby, causing a small distraction. Toby had grown since she last saw him, and his legs beneath long grey shorts were very thin. Still, he seemed wiry enough and he smiled at Cath shyly and said hello. He reminded her of Annie.

  Daphne busied herself making him a plate of sandwiches. Cath took an individual dish of trifle when Nigel handed it to her and ate a few spoonfuls but found it too rich and sweet. She drained her wineglass.

  ‘Have you had enough?’ Mark asked her. ‘Only I thought we should be on our way back to Durham.’ He glanced at his mother. ‘I have things to do,’ he said vaguely.

  ‘That’s fine,’ she said. ‘Will you be honouring us
with a visit next Sunday?’

  ‘Probably,’ Mark replied.

  Cath, who had recovered her equilibrium, made to stand up but somehow her skirt slipped on the shiny leather seat of the dining chair and she found herself falling to the floor. Mark grabbed at her, catching her just before she disappeared under the table altogether, and Toby and Nigel burst out laughing though Daphne merely looked pained.

  Mortified, Cath struggled to her feet. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what happened there.’

  Toby was having a fit of the giggles, and Mark frowned ferociously at him. ‘Shut up, Toby,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t stop,’ his brother replied. ‘It was funny, you know it was.’

  ‘Come on, Cath, let’s go,’ said Mark. ‘Goodbye all. Don’t bother seeing us out.’

  Daphne followed them to the door, ignoring him. ‘Do come again,’ she said brightly. Cath murmured her thanks and went out with Mark holding her firmly by one arm. Her face was bright red and her head was beginning to throb. She felt sick. She was just outside the front gate when she vomited into the hedge.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Mark. He was driving along the road to West Auckland on the way back to Durham. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘I’m not worrying, I have worse things to worry about,’ said Cath. She stared out of the window as the car went past the Eden Bus Company garage and bore right for Bishop Auckland.

  ‘You were so tired and strung out that the wine went to your head,’ said Mark. ‘Do you feel better now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She did too, for, in spite of her humiliation, the smooth movement of the car along the country roads had sent her to sleep. It was only for fifteen or twenty minutes but when she woke up she did feel better. But she barely looked at Mark in case she saw signs of disgust in his face.

  ‘I’m sorry, I disgraced you as well as myself,’ she said, looking down at her hands.

  Mark laughed. ‘You’re not used to wine. Neither were we, except on special occasions, until my parents went on holiday to France last year. Now Mum thinks it’s just the thing.’

  Holidays in France, thought Cath. The only people she knew who had been to France had been there to fight in the war. She gave him a quick glance. Was he just saying that to make her feel better? He caught her glance and smiled.

  ‘I’m glad you’re all right,’ he said softly.

  Cath looked out of the window as they were coming into the town. The hospital was on the left, the old workhouse buildings at the front looking as grim as ever. For a moment she was tempted to ask him to stop; to go in to try to see Annie again. But no doubt that dragon of a ward sister wouldn’t let her in. No, she would come tomorrow night.

  It was quiet in the car. They were out on the open road soon enough and heading for Durham. Cath thought about Eric Bowron again, oh, he was a mean-minded man! He had been mean-minded as a lad and he hadn’t grown out of it. She could still remember the feel of his hands on her immature body all those years ago, how the other boys had laughed uneasily but done nothing to help her. Only Brian: he had come to her rescue and he wasn’t as old as Eric. She must write to Brian tonight, she thought with a stab of guilt. She had to tell him she wasn’t going to marry him.

  They were approaching Durham, driving past the Cock of the North Hotel. Soon she could see the cathedral perched on top of the hill as they drove down into New Elvet and on to Gilesgate. Mark stopped outside the door and turned to face her.

  ‘If I were you I’d have an early night,’ he said. He leaned over and lightly touched his lips to hers. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

  Oh, he was a lovely man! Not many men would have given up their Sunday to run someone about the county.

  Pete and Hilda were not about so she went straight up to her room and got ready for bed. She felt washed out with all the strain of the day and lack of sleep the night before. She opened the curtains before getting into bed so that she could lie and watch the moon and the clouds chasing across the sky. She wrote to Brian sitting up in bed with her writing pad propped on her knees. The letter took a while to write, even though it was short but at last she was sealing the envelope and putting it on her bedside table ready to post tomorrow.

  Dark clouds had covered the moon and soon rain was pattering against the glass. Cath went to sleep with the soothing sound in her ears and slept through until morning.

  THE WAR IN KOREA – 38TH PARALLEL BREACHED: Cath read the headlines as she ate her sandwiches sitting at her desk in the Powers-Samas accounting machine room. Normally she would have gone down by the river or into the basement kitchen where the girls normally boiled the kettle and made tea, but today she felt like being alone. Besides, since she had been made supervisor, the other girls were not so friendly as they used to be. And if she worked through the dinner hour she might be able to get off a few minutes early to catch the bus to Bishop Auckland. Mr Graves, the new manager, was not as strict as his predecessor and wouldn’t mind.

  More soldiers and airmen were being sent to Korea, she read. With a pang of guilt she thought of the letter she had posted to Brian that morning. But surely Brian wouldn’t be going to Korea, would he? He had weak eyes, he wasn’t classed as A1.

  ‘Further reservists have been placed on alert.’ Cath thought of Jack and Mark. But Mark wouldn’t be called because of his gammy leg, though his limp was hardly noticeable now. Jack, though, he might be called. She sighed and sat back in her chair. It was no good: she couldn’t concentrate on anything now she had allowed Jack to enter her thoughts. Bittersweet memories came flooding back to her. How his head looked on the pillow; the way he’d looked at her through lowered lids sometimes.

  All those sickly-sweet songs that came out during the war when couples were separated were meaningful now, but she despised herself for those thoughts. Restlessly she stood up and went downstairs to the basement to make a cup of tea. The room was blue with smoke, although there was no one in it but two comptometer operators; the others must have gone out for fresh air before coming back to their desks. Cath made a mug of tea and returned upstairs.

  The afternoon dragged as she watched the clock for the bus to Bishop Auckland.

  At the entrance to the ramp leading up to H Ward, Cath met her mother. Sadie was dressed in a green, close-fitting suit, which showed off her figure, and she had a fur cape over her shoulders.

  ‘Now then, Cath,’ she said defiantly. ‘You see I have come to see our Annie.’ She noticed Cath looking at the cape.

  ‘Henry bought it for me last time we went to Newcastle,’ she said. ‘He thought I looked cold.’

  ‘Very nice,’ said Cath, not because she liked the cape but because Sadie obviously expected her to. They paused at the entrance to the ward, for Sadie was having second thoughts about going in.

  ‘Come on,’ said Cath, taking hold of her mother’s arm and pushing open the doors. A staff nurse was standing by the door to the office, checking the visitors.

  ‘Annie Raine,’ said Sadie and as the nurse looked doubtful. ‘I’m her mother.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Annie Raine has been transferred to Winterton,’ the staff nurse said.

  ‘When? What for? Why wasn’t I told? I’m her mother, for God’s sake!’

  ‘Calm down, Mam,’ Cath whispered, though her own heart had dropped into her boots. Poor Annie! But Sadie was beginning to shout and the staff nurse was getting annoyed.

  ‘Keep your voice down, please, we have people in here who are very ill,’ she said sternly in a fair imitation of Sister. ‘If you don’t, I will call a porter to put you out. Now, if you come into the office I will give you the details.’

  ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ Sadie began to rage and her cheeks flamed with anger. ‘I’m her mother, and nobody told me she was being transferred to the loony bin. I have a right to know, I have a right to be told.’

  ‘Shut up, Mam,’ said Cath and dragged her into the office after the staff nur
se. Abruptly, Sadie changed. She sank into the visitor’s chair and began to cry. ‘I don’t know what I did to deserve this,’ she muttered through her tears.

  ‘I’ll give you the number of the hospital—’ Staff Nurse began but Sadie interrupted.

  ‘I know the bloody number,’ she said. ‘It’s not the first time the lass has been in, you know.’ She stood up and marched out of the office. ‘Howay, Cath,’ she went on. ‘We might as well go home. By, I bet our Patsy knew about this. But would she let me know? Not her. I’m just Annie’s mother, I am. I tell you what—’

  ‘Mam, shut up, please.’

  They were walking down the ramp now and a cool evening breeze was blowing against them. ‘I know you think I’ve got a big mouth, our Cath. But I was worried. By, you’re a cold-hearted bitch, you are an’ all. I could have gone out with Henry tonight, he wanted me to. But I thought I’d best see Annie. How I’m going to tell him she’s been taken to the loony bin again, I don’t know.’

  She rambled on as they walked down the street to the bus stop and after a while Cath simply stopped listening. ‘Are you coming home the night? Cath! That’s the third time I’ve asked. Have you gone deaf?’

  ‘Sorry, I wasn’t going to—’ Cath stopped as she glanced at Sadie’s face and saw that her mother really was affected. She was upset and she had a hurt, lost look in her eyes. ‘All right, I’ll come back with you. But I’ll have to be out early in the morning, mind.’

  She regretted the decision as they trudged up the drive to Half Hidden Cottage and saw Henry Vaughan’s car parked by the front door. As they approached, he got out and stood waiting for them.

  ‘Henry!’ Sadie ran the last few steps, rushing up to him and kissing him on the cheek. ‘I wasn’t expecting you or I would have been back earlier. Come in, come in, I’m so pleased to see you.’

  The change in her mother was spectacular, Cath thought as she followed them into the house. She sparkled and even her accent had softened. Henry had nodded to Cath and she had greeted him in reply, but it was as if they both forgot about her as they went into the sitting room.