by Maggie Hope
‘I think I’ll just go to my room, I’m tired,’ she said from the doorway.
‘What? Oh, righto,’ Sadie replied absently.
Cath ran a hot bath and got in and lay back, luxuriating in the warmth. She closed her eyes and the next thing she knew she woke up shivering, for the water was cold. She must have slept for an hour, she reckoned, as she got out and wrapped a towel round her and went to her room. She felt woolly-minded and aching as she fell into bed, pulling the bedclothes over her shoulders and falling asleep again in a minute. In her dreams Jack was holding her as his father had held her mother. He was looking down at her and smiling and they had walked up the stairs like that and fallen into bed. She woke in the grey morning light feeling intensely happy and felt the bed on either side of her for Jack, but of course he wasn’t there. He wouldn’t be, would he, he had just been amusing himself with her. It was her own fault, wasn’t it? After all, she had known what he was like.
Chapter Twenty-three
Cath walked across Elvet Bridge and up the bank to Durham marketplace. Though it was just past five o’clock it was quite dark and the streetlights gleamed only dimly in the mist that was rising from the river. The damp cold struck through to the bone. She shivered slightly and turned up the collar of her coat as she turned right for Gilesgate. Today was Friday and she was going back to Half Hidden Cottage for the weekend on Saturday morning. The year was almost over; soon it would be Christmas. Fairy lights were going up in shop windows. It was still close enough to the austere war years for Cath to take pleasure in the twinkling lights but she wasn’t looking forward to Christmas very much.
She thought about Jack every day and the pain was only a little duller than it had been at first. Yet she was fond of Mark too; she looked forward to seeing him, he was good company and he didn’t force himself on her. In fact, he acted that old-fashioned thing – the perfect gentleman. He was very good for her damaged ego, she thought wryly. Being treated as Jack had treated her was humiliating as well as painful.
There had been those anxious weeks when her period was late and she had thought she was pregnant. What would she do if she were? She would have to go back to Eden Hope and the whole village would know that they had been right all along: Cath Raine was no good, just like her mother.
She was heady with relief when she found out she wasn’t pregnant after all. She had steeled herself to go to the doctor and had been mortified when he gave her a vaginal examination.
‘Have you been doing something that makes you think you might be pregnant?’ the doctor had asked. (At least he wasn’t the doctor from home who had known her all her life. This was a Durham doctor.) Cath had murmured that she had and the examination followed.
‘Get dressed now,’ the doctor said when he had pulled off his rubber glove and put it into a kidney dish. He had sat at his desk making notes.
‘Well, as far as I can tell, you’re not expecting a baby,’ he had said. ‘Try to be more careful next time, young lady.’ Her face was fiery red as she left the surgery.
This Friday evening as she passed the policeman in his glassed-in box, watching the screen by which he directed traffic through medieval Silver Street, her thoughts were interrupted. She almost walked into Brian just coming out of one of the shops with a parcel wrapped in Christmas paper.
‘Oh, I didn’t know you were back,’ she exclaimed.
‘I’m on leave,’ he replied. He looked at her for a moment without smiling, then made to walk past her.
‘Brian, you didn’t reply to my letter,’ she said, then felt foolish as he stared at her in astonishment.
‘You didn’t expect me to, did you? There was nothing to say. My mother told me she saw you with someone. I suppose it was that Mark bloke I saw you with that time. You weren’t straight with me, Cath. You’re a tart, just like your mother. I should have listened to my mother a bit sooner.’ He shrugged, moved past her and went on down Silver Street.
She watched his stiff back for a moment then turned for Gilesgate feeling guilty. Brian had been good to her, and she had used him. He was better off without her really.
A wind had sprung up and there was an icy feeling to the air as she approached the house in Gilesgate. As she closed the front door behind her she heard voices from the sitting room. Putting her head round the door she saw Mark sitting on the couch. Pete and Hilda were there too. They were watching the flickering television set in the corner, discussing the news and drinking tea.
‘There you are,’ said Hilda. ‘Come in and have a warm. Here’s your young man come to see you. I’ll just go and freshen the teapot.’
Mark had risen to his feet still holding his cup and saucer. He smiled at her, his dark eyes wrinkling at the corners. ‘I thought we could eat out,’ he said. ‘Then we could go to the rink at Spennymoor, the ten-until-two session.’
‘Oh, I don’t know—’ Cath began and stopped as Pete shot her a quelling glance.
‘I’m listening to the news,’ he said pointedly. ‘Our boys are giving those North Koreans a hammering.’ Pete loved their recently acquired television; he watched everything on it when he was at home.
‘We’ll take our tea upstairs,’ said Cath as Hilda came back in with the teapot.
‘A good idea,’ said Pete, and Hilda frowned at him. But Cath and Mark took their tea and left, grinning at each other as they climbed the stairs. ‘We could eat in. I’ve got some macaroni,’ Cath offered as they sat on the edge of the bed and drank the hot, sweet tea. The mattress sagged a little; her thigh touched his and warmth from his body penetrated through her skirt.
‘If you like,’ he whispered and bent his head to kiss her on the lips. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes and, satisfied with what he saw there, set down his cup and hers on the bedside table and put his arms around her and kissed her again.
After a moment or two he lifted his head and looked down at her face. Her eyes were closed and her long dark lashes swept her cheeks, still rosy from the cold.
Suddenly, Cath felt strange. ‘No,’ she said, ‘this isn’t right, Mark.’ But Mark didn’t seem to hear her protest.
‘No!’ Cath repeated, louder, snapping them both back into awareness as she roughly pushed Mark away.
‘What? Why?’ Mark sounded hurt and angry. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said flippantly. ‘I have a French letter. You won’t get caught.’
‘No, it’s not that, Mark, I, I don’t know, it just isn’t right. I’m sorry.’ They sat quietly for a moment on the bed, side by side, neither knowing quite what to say.
Then Mark stood up abruptly and looked down at her. ‘This isn’t about Jack, is it?’ he said sharply. ‘I know you were keen on him before.’
‘No, no,’ said Cath, rising from the bed too, keen to reassure him despite her confused feelings.
‘Well,’ said Mark, feeling a little uncomfortable himself, ‘maybe I was rushing you a bit. I’m sorry.’
Cath just felt embarrassed; she had wanted him before, but then she’d wanted to stop, and now she’d made him feel bad.
‘Let’s go and get something to eat, Mark, and then we won’t miss the session at the rink,’ she suggested brightly, trying to lift the mood.
‘Yes, let’s,’ said Mark, moving towards the door, clearly relieved.
They drove to Spennymoor to the Clarence Ballroom, which was called ‘the rink’ by everyone for it had begun life as a roller-skating rink. Cath had never felt less like dancing but she knew the two of them couldn’t stay in her room all night or Hilda would be knocking on the door to see what they were up to. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted him to leave. She just felt confused by the strength of her feelings. What did it matter anyway? Jack was not coming back to her. He had left her high and dry.
There was a big band playing on the dais at the rink. A trumpet player played ‘On Moonlight Bay’ and other hits, and she and Mark foxtrotted and waltzed and even jived through midnight and beyond. Afterwards he drove her to Half Hidden Cottage
and pulled up by the front door.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I’ll come for you at ten.’ He brushed his lips across hers.
‘No,’ said Cath, ‘I have to go to see Annie.’
‘When, then?’
‘Later, in the afternoon.’
‘Three o’clock?’
‘Yes.’
It was a cold night. A break in the clouds allowed a shaft of moonlight to break through. It sparkled on frost that overlay the grass and the paths and among the branches of the hedge. The car was beginning to cool down already, though it was only a few minutes since Mark had switched off the engine. He held her closer. ‘I love you, you know,’ he said, surprising himself as much as her.
‘I must go,’ said Cath and opened the car door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ She ran to the front door and let herself in to the hall without looking round. She didn’t put on the light but went up the stairs in the dim moonlight from the staircase window. As she did so she heard Mark start the car, turn it round and drive off.
As she lay in bed a short while later she heard someone go to the bathroom, someone too heavy to be Sadie. No doubt Henry was staying overnight. Well, why not? For the first time she felt she understood her mother and Henry too. They were both lonely people.
‘Hello, I wasn’t expecting you back last night,’ said Sadie. She came into the kitchen yawning widely and dressed in an old dressing gown and with her hair all over the place, so Cath surmised that Henry must have already gone home.
‘We went to the rink at Spennymoor so it was just as easy,’ Cath replied. ‘There’s tea in the pot or I’ll make coffee if you like.’
‘Tea will do. By the way, Henry will run us to the hospital but he won’t stay,’ said Sadie. ‘Who’s we, any road?’
‘Mark. He works at the university. Mark Drummond.’
Sadie paused with her cup halfway to her mouth. For a moment she looked a little strange, then she shook her head slightly and took a sip of tea.
‘What is it?’ asked Cath.
‘Nothing. I used to know someone called that, that’s all.’
‘A lot of people are called Drummond,’ said Cath.
‘Aye.’ Sadie let her careful English slip when Henry wasn’t there. ‘I suppose we’d best get ready. By, I hate that place.’
‘Winterton is a bit forbidding but Annie will be coming out soon, I hope,’ Cath replied.
‘Blooming heck, what are you doing here?’
Sadie stood with her legs apart and stared at Alf and Gerda and their baby, John. Or Hans, as Gerda insisted on calling him. He was a good-looking child with fine fair hair and blue eyes, large for eighteen months. He looked uncertainly at his mother and father as Sadie stared at him.
They were in the cafeteria in the hospital grounds waiting to go into the hospital, for there were ten minutes to go before visiting time.
‘I have as much right to visit our Annie as you have, you know,’ said Alf, then turned to Cath. ‘How are you doing, lass? I heard you’d got a promotion and were living in Durham city, is that right?’
‘Yes. I’m fine, Dad, how are you all?’
Cath felt guilty – she didn’t realise how much time had gone by since she last saw her father. She nodded and smiled at Gerda and little John, who hid his head in his mother’s lap.
‘He’s shy,’ said Gerda.
‘You’ve not bothered much before,’ said Sadie, lifting her chin and sticking her nose in the air. She didn’t look at Gerda.
Fortunately it was time to go to see Annie so Alf didn’t reply. Cath walked with her father along the tarmac path. Sadie had met up with Patsy and the two sisters walked behind. Cath could hear them bickering but she took little notice. They always bickered when they met.
‘John’s a lovely baby,’ she said to her father. ‘I should make more time and get to know him better.’
‘Yes, you should,’ said Alf. ‘I once thought you would come to live with us but you didn’t want to.’
‘Well, there was Annie—’
‘Aye, I know, you had to look after Annie. But you weren’t with Annie when she needed you, were you? Aw, I’m not blaming you, lass. You couldn’t be with her all the time.’
Still, he had hit a nerve. She had always felt guilty that she wasn’t there for Annie when it mattered.
They sat at tables in a large hall and waited for Annie to be brought to them. When she was, she seemed to Cath to be like a zombie with dull eyes, pale complexion and lank, lifeless hair. She sat down opposite Cath and looked at her hands, which were clasped together in her lap.
‘Are you all right, Annie? Do you like it here?’ Cath asked, as neither Alf nor Sadie seemed to know what to say. Annie nodded. Patsy had been to the trolley where a helper was dispensing tea and biscuits. She brought back a tray of mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits. Cath glanced up at the other tables. Some of the inmates were tucking into the biscuits as though they were ravenous. Anxious parents watched them. Annie sat and looked at her tea.
‘She’s all right but she’ll be better when I get her home,’ said Patsy. Sadie pulled a face and looked as though she was about to argue but changed her mind. Alf looked uncomfortable and Cath took a sip of tea even though she had just had a cup in the cafeteria, and it made her feel nauseous.
‘Do you want to come home, pet?’
It was Alf who had spoken, and Annie looked quickly up at him and down again. She nodded.
After what seemed an afternoon as long as a week, a bell rang and visitors was standing up and saying their goodbyes. For the first time Annie showed some emotion. She leaned over to Cath.
‘It was that lad,’ she whispered.
‘What was? Who?’ Cath asked, startled.
‘You know, the one,’ said Annie. Then a nurse appeared and she looked confused. It was as if a blanket had lifted for a few seconds then had fallen again just as swiftly.
The party was quiet as they walked down the drive. A sadness gripped them. All those people locked away. When you were going about normal life it was as if they didn’t exist. But Annie existed and she needed to get her life back. Cath wasn’t sure that turning her into a zombie was the way to do it.
Patsy’s husband, Jim, was waiting by the car. He had been walking round the grounds to fill in the time.
‘I can give Cath a lift if Sadie goes with you,’ said Alf. So it was agreed, and the family set off for home.
Chapter Twenty-four
‘We’ll drop you off here if that’s all right,’ said Alf. They were on the road at the end of the drive to Half Hidden Cottage. ‘Unless you’d like to come back with us today?’
Gerda was startled and not at all happy about the invitation, Cath could see, but she recovered and said, ‘Yes.’
‘No, I won’t, thank you very much though,’ said Cath. ‘Only I’m meeting someone.’
‘A boy no doubt,’ said Alf, smiling playfully.
‘A man friend, yes,’ said Cath as she got out of the car. ‘I’ll come to see you soon, though.’ She said her goodbyes and walked off up the drive. Her mother was already home.
‘I’m sick of our Patsy acting as though Annie was her bairn,’ she greeted Cath.
‘Well, you don’t want her here, not the way Henry feels. Do you? Annie trusts Aunt Patsy,’ Cath replied.
‘An’ she cannot trust me, that’s what you mean, isn’t it? By, you have a nasty streak, our Cath.’ Sadie sounded bitter. She was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of stout before her. ‘Any road, who is this Mark fellow? You kept him quiet, didn’t you?’
‘I’ve known him a long time,’ said Cath. ‘His family live at Staindrop.’
‘Staindrop, eh? I used to know some Drummonds but they went to the other end of the country.’ Sadie took a long swallow of her stout and made appreciative noises. ‘Good stuff, this,’ she said. ‘Well, he’ll be making better money at the university than down the pit. You could do worse.’
‘I’ll have to get r
eady, he’s calling for me,’ said Cath. It was no good saying anything to her mother; Sadie would never understand.
‘Aye go on, leave me alone as usual,’ said Sadie.
‘You’ll be seeing Henry later, won’t you?’
Sadie didn’t reply so Cath went up to her room. She still kept some things at Half Hidden Cottage and she took a pair of slacks and a roll-neck sweater from the wardrobe. She sat in front of the dressing table and put on lipstick, then looked at herself in the mirror and decided that would do. Pulling her hair back from her face, she tied it with a thin chiffon scarf, which echoed the soft rose colour of her sweater.
She sat looking at her reflection for a while without really seeing it. Her thoughts touched on Jack, and a stab of pain shot through her. It was like probing an aching tooth. And yet she was so mixed up. She was attracted to Mark and she knew he was attracted to her. What was the matter with her, she couldn’t be in love with two men at the same time, could she? Cath heard the doorbell clanging through the house.
‘Cath? Somebody to see you!’ Sadie called up the stairs. Cath took up her coat and went downstairs.
Mark drove up the dale to where the moor stretched out on either side and the heather was brown and bending to the prevailing west wind. Though the light was fading already he parked on the top of a rise and turned to her. Clouds were gathering in the sky and below them, in the valley, lights were beginning to twinkle. It was warm in the car and Cath had taken off her coat, and as he turned he slid a hand over her left breast.
‘Don’t,’ said Cath, pulling away.
‘Why not? You like it, don’t you?’
‘Please Mark, don’t.’ Cath pulled away from him and gazed out of the car at the rising darkness. There was a moment or two of silence.
‘I won’t if you don’t want to,’ said Mark. ‘But I thought you did want to.’
‘No,’ said Cath. ‘I’m sorry.’
He moved towards her again and put his arm around her and kissed her gently on the forehead. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘Everything is fine.’ Moving away, he started the car.