by Maggie Hope
‘It was true, Timmy was not the first then,’ Cath said to her mother, her voice coming out in little more than a whisper. She was shaking. ‘Oh Mam, how could you do it? How could you give away your babies?’
‘You don’t know what it was like,’ Sadie snapped. ‘Don’t you judge me. I had no man the first time. Lots of people give their babies up for adoption.’
‘Not many sell them,’ Mark observed.
‘I tell you, I did my best for you,’ said Sadie. ‘You don’t know what it was like having a bairn on your own in them days.’
Mark snorted. Cath glanced at him; he was beginning to look really ill. Her mind was running on two levels, one still in shock and hardly able to take in the revelations that were emerging and the other feeling concern for Mark.
‘Mark, you’re ill. Leave this now. I’ll help you upstairs – you’d be better lying down.’
His eyes flew fully open. ‘I’m not staying in this damn house,’ he cried. ‘I’m going back to Staindrop.’
‘No, you can’t,’ Cath insisted.
With a visible effort he got to his feet but then his legs gave way beneath him and he would have fallen if she hadn’t caught him. She was staggering under his weight and her mother rushed forward to give her a hand.
‘Lie him down on the sofa,’ said Sadie, and they managed between them to drag him over and lay him down. Sadie took off his shoes while Cath loosened his tie and his collar button.
‘Mind, it’s a bit since I did this for Alf when he came in drunk,’ said Sadie. ‘I can smell he’s been sick, an’ all. Alf was sick all over me new proddy mat.’
‘I’ve put the hearthrug on the back porch,’ said Cath. ‘I’ll get a rug for him.’
When he was settled they sat down in the armchairs and gazed at him.
‘Mind, he’s made a fine figure of a man,’ said Sadie. ‘He’s a lad any mother could be proud of. He’s a university lecturer, did you say? Aye well, his dad had brains, I’ll say that for him. Let’s go into the kitchen. I’m dying for a good, strong cup of tea.’
‘He’s my half-brother, then,’ said Cath as they waited for the kettle to boil. ‘Mam, he said he loved me. Do you know what harm you could have done?’
‘It’s not my fault, none of this,’ said Sadie. ‘I’ll not take the blame. That stuck-up Daphne Drummond said they were going down south to live. I thought it was a good chance for the lad. It was, wasn’t it? Then when I met her in Auckland in the war she wanted Timmy. She was staying up here to get away from the bombing. I told her she’d have to go away again, as far away as they could get and she agreed. She wanted our Timmy. And I needed the money.’
She stared at Cath with a challenging expression, then it changed. ‘Oh God, you didn’t, did you? You slept with him?’
Cath looked away. She couldn’t speak for a minute. They had been so close to it.
‘Bloody incest,’ said Sadie. ‘Wouldn’t that just happen. By, if I got hold of that Daphne and Nigel Drummond I’d strangle them with my bare hands, I would!’
‘But I didn’t sleep with him,’ said Cath, at last.
‘Oh, thank God!’
They were silent for a few moments. The kettle boiled and was ignored. Then Cath got to her feet and took it off the flames. She was reeling. Not only was Mark her brother, but Toby was her long-lost baby brother, Timmy, whom she had so adored.
‘I’d better check on him,’ she said at last. ‘My half-brother, isn’t he? I have to look after him.’ She sounded very bitter, very bitter indeed.
Chapter Twenty-seven
‘Do you think we should have called the doctor?’ Cath asked. It was a couple of hours later and Mark had woken once but he was confused. A bruise had come out on his head and, when he had seen Cath, he had held out his arms to her and wanted her to sit by him. He seemed to have forgotten the reason he had come to Half Hidden Cottage.
‘We’d best get him upstairs to bed,’ Sadie had said. ‘It won’t be so hard if we have him between us. Henry said he was staying at home tonight but there’s still a chance he might drop in.’
Cath didn’t reply to that, though her bitterness towards her mother rose further. Sadie was more worried about what Henry might think than about her son. They helped Mark to his feet and he leaned on them as they went out and up the stairs to Cath’s room, which was the handiest. They were both panting when at last they got him on to the bed.
‘I’ll leave you to undress him,’ said Cath. ‘After all, you’re his mother.’ Her bitterness showed in her tone.
‘Aw, Cath, there’s no point in us falling out,’ Sadie replied. But she cajoled and eased him out of his clothes and put a pyjama jacket of Henry’s on him. When they laid him back on the pillows he fell asleep immediately. Sadie and Cath looked at each other.
‘I don’t think we’d get a doctor out in this weather,’ said Sadie. The wind was howling outside and snow was piling up on the windowsill. ‘Maybe it’s just the drink. He could sleep it off by morning. He didn’t hit his head so hard, did he?’
‘He might have concussion,’ Cath replied fearfully. She tried to put his hand back under the bedclothes but it turned and clasped hers.
‘Cath,’ he muttered.
‘I’ll just sit here with him,’ Cath decided. ‘If we think he’s any worse we can ring the doctor and ask his advice.’
She sat in a chair beside the bed, still holding his hand, while Sadie went downstairs to make supper. She brought Cath’s up on a tray. The room was fairly dark with just the bedside light with a cloth over the shade providing a soft glow. Cath studied Mark’s face. He looked a little better than he had earlier with some colour in his cheeks, she decided. She stood up and gently took her hand away and put his under the bedclothes. He stirred but did not waken. Now, as she studied him, she could see a family resemblance. The same colour hair, the cut of his lips. Had the attraction he held for her been because of their shared blood?
The wind outside rattled the window frame but no draught got in, for Sadie had drawn the heavy curtains.
Sadie came in again. ‘He seems better,’ she said. ‘It was probably just the drink. I’ll sit with him for a while if you like.’
Cath’s first impulse was to refuse but she was tired herself and in any case she had to do something about the Drummonds. Slipping from the room, she went downstairs to the telephone and tried to ring them, though her heart beat fast with apprehension at the thought of it. But it was no good: the lines were down. She didn’t know whether to be sorry or relieved.
She sat on the stairs and leaned against the wall holding her head in one hand. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. It was all such a mess. He had said he loved her. He would get over it and put it all behind him but it was difficult for her, oh yes it was, even if she didn’t really love him. The wall was cold against her shoulder and she shivered. Rising to her feet, she went back upstairs. Sadie was asleep, slumped in the chair, her head lolling against the bed and her mouth hanging slightly open. Gentle snores sounded through the room. Cath nudged her shoulder.
‘What? What?’ Sadie asked.
‘Howay to bed, Mam. He’s all right now, I’m sure, just sleeping it off. I tried to ring the Drummonds but the lines must be down.’
‘What did you want to ring them for? It was their entire fault, this. They promised me they wouldn’t come north again, they promised me faithfully.’ Sadie had woken up in a grumpy mood. ‘But I tell you what,’ she went on, ‘I’ll tell her, I will, I wish I’d never had nowt to do with her, I do. I should have kept the lads, I know I should, but she offered me money and I didn’t know where to turn for debt. But I would have got through. You do somehow. Look at him, isn’t he a grand lad?’ She began to weep.
‘Mam, pull yourself together, will you? You’re getting maudlin. Anyway, I know you didn’t care much for Timmy so you probably felt the same about Mark. I daresay you would have sold me and Annie an’ all if you could.’
‘Eeh no, I wouldn’t
, our Cath. I wouldn’t do that,’ her mother replied as if the thought was really repugnant to her. ‘I can’t believe you said that.’
‘No. Well, I think you’d better go to bed. Mark will be all right until morning.’ Cath couldn’t bring herself to say she was sorry.
‘We’ll both go. You can sleep in my bed.’
‘No, I’ll go in the spare room. Goodnight.’ Cath took a nightie from a drawer and went up the corridor to the spare room. It was very cold in there; the curtains were open and she could see snowflakes as big as pennies driving down from the sky and piling against the window ledges. She drew the curtains and undressed quickly then climbed into bed. The sheets were icy cold. She curled into a ball and hugged her knees. She would soon warm up, she told herself, and there was a thick eiderdown.
‘I’ve brought you a hot-water bottle.’ Her mother spoke from the doorway.
‘Thank you,’ said Cath, amazed. This was the first time in her life she could remember her mother thinking of her comfort.
‘Right, I’ll go to bed now,’ said Sadie, looking uncertainly at Cath.
‘Oh, go on then, come in here with me.’ Cath held the bedclothes up and Sadie jumped in beside her, snuggling up close for warmth.
‘I didn’t—’ Sadie began to say.
‘Leave it be!’ said Cath. ‘Go to sleep.’
It was quiet for a while and Sadie’s breathing became deep and even. She turned over once. ‘His name is Matthew,’ she muttered. ‘Matthew, not—’ The rest tailed off and Sadie began to snore gently.
Cath woke early. Though the sky was still dark there was a glow from the white snow when she peeped out the curtains. She shivered in the cold and dropped the curtain. Though her nightgown was winceyette with long sleeves to her wrists it did little to keep her warm. She went along the corridor to get her dressing gown from behind the door in her own room.
‘Oh! Should you be up?’ Cath asked as she went in and saw Mark, already dressed and standing by the bed. Quickly she pulled the dressing gown on and tied it round her waist.
‘How do you feel?’
‘Like someone hit me with a sledgehammer,’ said Mark. ‘What am I doing here, anyway?’ He sat down on the bed with a thump. ‘Oh Lord, I feel dizzy again.’
‘Get back into bed and I’ll bring you a cup of tea and a couple of codeine,’ said Cath. ‘Can you manage or shall I help you?’
‘No, I’ll come downstairs. It’s passing now.’
They went downstairs and into the sitting room. Cath switched on a small electric fire and stood it before his chair. The coal fire in the grate was dead. Mark watched her as she moved about, a strange expression on his face. Dreading the time when it all came back to him, Cath went into the kitchen and made tea and toast. She put it on a tray with a couple of tablets and carried it back into the sitting room. While he drank the tea she raked out the fire and built it anew. Then she sat opposite him and sipped at her own cup.
Mark had a bite of toast and put the slice on the plate. He leaned back in the chair and said, ‘I loved you, you know. I still do.’
Cath looked at him: the moment had come. ‘I knew nothing about it, Mark,’ she said. With his elbow on the arm of his chair he held one side of his head with his hand. There was an awareness in his eyes now.
‘No, of course not, how could you?’
‘It was a bad time for the mining folk, between the wars. And a woman on her own … This wouldn’t have happened if your parents had stayed in the south as they said they would. It’s not all mam’s fault either.’
‘I’ve gone through hell these last weeks.’ He laughed without humour. ‘All those years I played about with girls I kidded myself I was immune; no girl could trap me. Then I had to fall for you.’
‘Poetic justice?’
‘Maybe.’
They sat for a while in silence. The room warmed up and light began to filter through the curtains. Cath rose to her feet and drew them back. The world outside was just an expanse of white.
‘You won’t be able to get home this morning,’ she said. ‘Unless you’re going to Durham? They usually open the main road and a farmer brings his tractor through with a snowplough along here.’ She turned back to him. He was still white and the bruise on his forehead showed livid against his white skin. ‘Probably just as well. You don’t look very fit.’
‘I’ll be all right. I’ll just rest a bit longer. Look, the sun’s breaking through, things are bound to improve now.’ He was gazing at her, studying her almost. He cleared his throat and sat up straight.
‘I came over yesterday to give you a letter. But I was nervous and stopped at the King William pub in Shildon and had a drink, Dutch courage, as it were. One led to another … I began to get angry and the more angry I got the more I had to drink. The landlord threw me out in the end.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I was drunk but then you know that.’
‘Where is it?’
‘What?’
‘The letter. Were you just going to write to me and tell me we were brother and sister?’
‘No. The letter wasn’t from me; it was from Jack.’
‘Jack?’
He nodded and winced at the head movement. Cath didn’t even notice.
‘Where is it?’ she asked.
‘Here.’ He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and brought out a crumpled envelope. He stared at it for a moment before handing it to her.
The letter was dated the morning after Jack had spent the night with her in Durham – the day she had been expecting him to meet her:
My dearest Catherine,
I have had some surprising news. When I got home there was a letter waiting for me, ordering me to report to the barracks at Catterick immediately. It is the war in Korea, my darling, and I have to go. I am a reservist.
It couldn’t have come at a worse time for us and I am so very sorry, Catherine. But I’m sure, with the United Nations involved it will all be over very soon and I will be able to return to you and we will be able to plan for our future together. I am entrusting this to Mark and he has promised to deliver it to you. Now I have things to do before I go.
Don’t worry about me, Catherine. I will be back as soon as I can.
With all my love,
Jack
Cath read it through then read it again before looking up at Mark. ‘Why didn’t you give me it? Jack is your best friend!’
Mark shrugged. ‘You know what they say; all’s fair in love and war.’
Cath erupted. ‘How could you? How could you? I hate you, oh God, I hate you! Get out! Get out before I kill you!’
Mark rose to his feet. ‘You don’t mean that. You’re putting me out in the snow? You can’t, what will I do?’
‘I don’t care what you do, just get out of my sight, that’s all,’ Cath shouted.
‘Hey, hey, what’s all this? It’s a wonder they don’t hear you up at the Hall!’ Sadie had come in unnoticed. ‘Don’t be daft, our Cath, Mark has nowhere to go, has he? Besides this is my house, I decide who has to go. Sit down, Mark. I’m pleased to see you looking better, any road. Now, are you going to be civil?’
Mark pulled a face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered like a small boy with an apology dragged out of him.
‘Shall I make some more tea? An’ mebbe a bit of bacon? Henry brought some home-cured down the other day.’ Mark sat down and Cath stared at him, speechless now with anger.
‘Right,’ said Sadie. ‘I’ll away and do a fry up, then.’
When she had gone Mark said, ‘I was going to give it to you, really I was. But Toby came over to stay and what with one thing and another I was too busy to get over to Old Elvet. Then I suppose I made one excuse after another to myself not to give it to you until I thought it was too late. I wanted you for myself. And look where it’s got me.’
‘I suppose you wouldn’t have given it to me now if you hadn’t found out we’re brother and sister.’ Cath was still angry: she couldn’t believe he had been so un
derhand. Oh, she had misread his character, all right. The memory came back of Jack’s contemptuous remark, years ago, when she and Annie were caught trespassing on the Vaughan estate. A pitman’s brat, he had called her, or was it a miner’s brat?
‘So you are a pitman’s brat too, then,’ she said, wanting to hurt him.
‘What?’
‘Nothing. It was just something Jack said when we first met.’
Chapter Twenty-eight
It was mid-afternoon when the telephone rang out loudly, making them all start, for it had been silent for so long. Cath went to answer it – the operator informed them that the line was now back in operation, though the fact that she was speaking on it made that obvious. A few minutes later Henry came.
‘Are you both all right?’ he asked. Sadie came out of the kitchen and he sighed with relief. ‘Oh, thank God. I’ve worried about you ever since the road was blocked again. If we have more snow, I think you should come up to the Hall—’ He broke off as he saw Mark standing in the doorway of the sitting room. ‘Mark! Have you been here all the time? Do you know your parents have been out looking for you? You didn’t say where you were going, and when you didn’t turn up in Durham they thought you must be buried in a snowdrift somewhere. They rang me twice today. What are you doing here, anyway?’
‘I was coming to see you, sir,’ Mark said smoothly. ‘I wondered what the latest news of Jack was. I thought this way would be shorter than the main drive to the Hall.’
‘Well, at least this place was here, any port in a storm as they say. Only the line was down between the Hall and here. I’ve been pestering the post office to get it seen to.’
‘It’s all right now,’ said Sadie.
‘Good. Well, Mark, you chose a funny time to visit, during a snowstorm. Still, I’m glad you’re here. I had a letter from Jack on Christmas Eve. He’s coming home.’
‘Coming home? Why?’
‘He was injured and captured by the Chinese, evidently. Before they had time to take him behind the lines, the Chinese themselves were captured by the Americans. Good news, isn’t it?’