‘You want more from life than you’ve got at present. You were born into a certain station and here’s your chance to return to it. I wish you well. Now I’d best get off before the ironmonger’s closes.’
He touched his cap to her and walked away. She stared after him, tears freezing in her eyes. What should she do now? He hadn’t said it. If she had no hope of a future with him, she couldn’t carry on volunteering at Brookburn, where she might bump into him at any moment. In fact, wouldn’t it be better to put her dashed hopes behind her and start again elsewhere? Grandfather had been astounded when she turned him down. Should she go back and say she had changed her mind?
The savoury aroma of beef and onions filled Carrie’s nostrils as she walked into the flat, followed by Evadne and Mr Weston. Cottage pie today. Mustard tart yesterday. Toad-in-the-hole the day before that. Mam hadn’t said a word, but she was churning out all Carrie’s favourites and Carrie knew it was because Joey’s birthday was coming up.
‘I’ve been thinking about this afternoon,’ she said, as the four of them tucked in. ‘Evadne, you should go on the evaluation visit with Mr Weston. I’ll be fine on my own.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I promise not to pretend to know something I don’t.’ This was Mr Weston’s golden rule. ‘If you go, you’ll learn. That’s more important than us holding one another’s hands in the shop.’
‘A wise decision, if I may say so,’ observed Mr Weston.
So she spent much of the afternoon on her own. She had customers, but they were what Mr Weston called ‘likers’. No specialist knowledge, but if they liked what they saw, they bought it. She smiled to herself. Her kind of customer! But one day she would be equipped to serve the knowledgeable ones too.
She said as much to Mam and Evadne when they settled down for the evening.
‘My girls working in a place like Armstrong’s,’ said Mam, ‘and one of them owning it. Who’d have thought? I can see how much Evadne is enjoying it, but what about you, our Carrie?’
‘I’ve a lot to learn, but I don’t mind that.’
‘I know, love. You’re a grafter like your dad. But that’s not what I asked.’
‘Leave her be, Mother, if she doesn’t want to talk.’
Carrie looked from one to the other. ‘Have you been discussing me behind my back?’
‘Of course,’ said Mam, unabashed. ‘We love you and we’re concerned for you.’
‘There’s no need.’
‘There’s every need,’ said Evadne.
‘If there’s no need,’ said Mam, ‘answer my question.’
Carrie stilled. She was poised on the brink. Step back with an easy lie, which they would recognise as such – or step forward. Tell the truth. But that would open her up to – she didn’t know what.
‘Yes, I enjoy it. It keeps me busy and interested. But …’
‘But?’ asked Evadne.
‘It doesn’t fill me up.’
She could almost hear the clang of shock. Good God, what had she unleashed? She wished the words unspoken, but it was too late. She had had her chance to retreat from the brink and she hadn’t taken it.
‘Well, it wouldn’t, would it?’ Evadne said carefully. She licked her lips and Carrie felt a tingle beneath her flesh. ‘You’re never going to feel right again until you have another child.’
‘Oh! Is this what you’ve been saying to one another? You’re just like those stupid women who said I must have another, as if Joey didn’t matter.’
‘Of course he matters, but that doesn’t mean you have to blot out the possibility of more children. And if you did have another, it would’ – she drew a breath, as if steeling herself to utter the words – ‘fill you up again. Your words, not mine.’
Carrie could scarcely believe her ears. How dare Evadne speak to her like this?
‘What do you know about it? All you ever wanted was a rich husband.’
‘Carrie!’ exclaimed Mam. ‘There’s no call for that.’
‘It’s all right, Mother. I’ve spoken frankly and Carrie’s entitled to answer in kind.’ Evadne’s voice was steady, but her face was pale. ‘You’re right, Carrie. For a long time, that’s all marriage meant to me – the right sort of man who could give me the right sort of life; and I never gave children a thought except in so far as I assumed I’d have them. I never dreamt about children, like you did. But I’ll tell you something I learnt from Joey.’
Carrie felt giddy. Then Evadne was on her knees in front of her, clasping her hands, looking into her eyes, twisting her head, her neck, to stay locked on Carrie’s eyes.
‘The first time I saw Joey …’
Her words trailed off as if she hadn’t the words to express herself. Carrie stilled. She returned the clasp of the hands, focusing with all her heart on this unlooked-for link to her son. No one spoke to her of him. She thought of him constantly, but no one else mentioned him. The chance to hear him spoken of snatched her heart and held it, ripped it in two and stuck it back together. At her core, she trembled with anticipation.
‘I loved you when you were a baby,’ said Evadne, ‘but somehow I forgot it. I forgot how special babies are, but when I saw Joey, I experienced such … wonderment. He taught me that a baby of my own would be delightful. That’s what I learnt from Joey. That’s what he means to me, what I’ll always remember.’
Carrie parted her lips, but words wouldn’t come. Joey’s legacy could be a cousin he would never know. Might she find solace in that?
Evadne sat back on her heels. ‘It grieves me to think you might not have another child.’
The only way to cope was to make light of it. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a serious obstacle in the way of what you’re suggesting.’
‘No, there isn’t. I’ve seen the way Adam Armstrong looks at you. It’s plain as anything how he feels.’ Evadne met her eyes. ‘I’ve seen you looking at him too.’
There were so many things she wanted to say, words that would have ensured Evadne never again dared venture into such deeply personal territory. She opened her mouth to set them pouring out and the only words that crawled out were, ‘It’s not possible.’
‘Do you mean for legal reasons? They changed the law last year about men marrying their brothers’ widows. They had to, after the war.’
Carrie’s head filled with tears, her eyes, her sinuses, her throat. She couldn’t move, didn’t dare try, in case the floodgates crashed open. If that happened, she might never be able to force them shut again.
‘Shall I tell you one of my biggest regrets?’ said Mam. She looked at Evadne. ‘It’s to do with Daddy. The last time I saw him, I said all the things a soldier’s wife says when it’s time to part. Be careful, come home safe, all those things; but I didn’t say I loved him. I didn’t miss it out on purpose, but after he’d gone, I realised I hadn’t said it. I said to myself: That’s all right. I’ll make sure to say it next time.’
‘But there wasn’t a next time,’ said Evadne.
‘Did you say it to Pa before he went?’ asked Carrie.
‘Lord, yes. A dozen times. The last time, I stood on tiptoe and put my arms round his neck. I wanted to say it right into his ear, only I weren’t tall enough. But I know he heard because of what he said back to me.’ She pressed her lips together and shook her head. ‘If there’s something you should say to that young man, Carrie, say it. I didn’t get a second chance with Evadne’s dad.’
‘You have to speak to him,’ said Evadne, ‘before it’s too late.’
‘Now you’re being dramatic.’
‘I’m not. Mr Weston told me this afternoon about a hospital down south that has offered him an important position. He’s preparing to go to a conference there and – well, he might decide to go and work there.’
You’ve helped me make a decision. I won’t trouble you again.
‘I don’t know what’s keeping you apart from him, Carrie, but if you don’t go and talk to him, I will.’
‘No, you won’t,’ said Mam, and they both looked at her, ‘because you’ll be busy talking to your Mr Geeson.’
‘He isn’t my Mr Geeson. I’ve tried talking to him a dozen times and he isn’t interested.’
‘Ah, but did you say the right things? Goodness me, for someone so well educated, you can be remarkably stupid at times, Evadne. Listen to me, the pair of you. There’s a cabbies’ hut straight across the road. If there isn’t a cab there now, there’ll be one along soon. What are you waiting for? Get gone, and don’t come back without a couple of sons-in-law.’
Chapter Fifty
Evadne climbed out of the cab at the bottom of the drive and felt a moment’s fear; how dark it was. She should have waited until tomorrow – no, she shouldn’t. This wanted doing, and it wanted doing now. She hoped she wasn’t about to make a colossal ass of herself. No, actually, she didn’t care if she did. She had to do this.
Through the trees was a glow of light. The groundsman’s cottage. She headed towards it, the grass damp and chill. Her shoes would be ruined. She should have worn her ankle boots, but she had wanted to look her best for Ted.
She stopped outside the cottage door, fishing for a hanky. There was a nip in the air and her nose felt runny.
The door swung open.
‘Who’s there? Miss Baxter – what brings you here?’
Rats! She hadn’t wiped her nose yet.
‘Come in, lass. Is something wrong?’
She walked through a lobby into a large room that combined kitchen with sitting room and held her breath, half-expecting to feel let down. It was a long way from the kind of home she had dreamt of. But what she felt was interest. She looked round, assessing the place. It was spacious and well appointed, containing the necessary items, but lacking little comforts. It needed a woman’s touch.
‘Give me your coat and sit by the fire. I’ll put the kettle on. We’ll soon have you warmed up.’
She didn’t want tea, but she did want him to turn away so she could wipe her nose. She whipped out her hanky and gave a discreet blow.
Ted put the kettle on the gas. Could she respect a man who made the tea? Yet why not? He was taking care of her and what could be better than that? Alex wouldn’t have got her a drink unless he could pour it from a decanter.
How cosy it would be to be Mrs Ted Geeson!
‘Leave the tea,’ she said. ‘I came to talk to you.’
‘Oh aye?’ He lowered himself into the other armchair. ‘What about?’
‘My grandfather’s offer. Do you truly want me to accept it?’
‘It’s not for me to say.’
‘Well, I don’t want it. I used to, most dreadfully, but not now. In fact, when Grandfather invited me, I said no, thank you.’
‘What will you do instead?’
‘I’m already doing it. Working in the shop, living in the flat, volunteering here. This is what I want.’
‘I’m glad for you.’
Heat flushed through her. ‘Is that it? Are you really that dense? I’ve been dropping hints like bricks ever since I came home from prison and you haven’t picked up a single one. Is it because—is it because you don’t like me?’
‘I like you well enough. You should know that. You’re always telling me what friends we are.’
‘That’s because I wanted you to know how deeply I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hoped it might … encourage you.’ She bit her lip. Her face scorched, but it was nothing to do with the crackling fire.
He grinned, his face creasing into lines of humour and … something else that she didn’t dare name. The prospect of being mistaken was too horrible to bear.
‘A word of advice. Calling a man your best friend isn’t encouraging. Quite the reverse, in fact.’
‘But you are my best friend. Can’t you think of anything more wonderful than your best friend also being the person you … you …? Oh, must I say it? I’ve spent years chasing after other people, desperately trying to please them so that I could get what I wanted. Since I was at school, I’ve been trying to make Grandfather take me in, but he never would; then I thought I had a chance with Alex Larter, and look where that led. But in my own way, I was as bad as he was. I didn’t love him. I just wanted his status and his wealth. But what I want now is the most important thing I’ve ever hoped for and … and I want the way it happens to be different. I don’t want to do the chasing. I want … I want the other person to want me, to come to me and seek me out. Oh, goodness,’ she said as tears began to flow.
Ted stood up as fluidly as any able-bodied man. He took the hands that were trying to smooth away the tears and drew her to her feet and into his arms. Her heart rampaged all over the place, then settled into the steady, contented beat of certainty and security.
‘There now, I’ve got you. You’re safe. Look at me. You shall be courted,’ he promised. ‘My dear love, you shall be courted.’
Evadne stood on tiptoe in shoes that were wet and tight, and slid her arms round his neck. She was tall enough to speak right into his ear so that there was no possibility of his not hearing, only her voice caught and broke, but she knew he had heard because of what he said back to her.
‘I love you too, Miss Evadne Baxter, though it’s a bit early in our formal courtship to say so.’
‘No, it isn’t, Ted Geeson. No, it isn’t.’
When Sister Wicks said Doctor Armstrong was in his rooms, Carrie bolted upstairs. With a brief knock, she rushed straight in. Adam looked up in surprise from the settee, where he was relaxing with his pipe and a newspaper.
She scooted to a halt as he came to his feet. He was as tall as Ralph, but with a slimmer build, not the bulk of a bully boy; and his handsome features were kind and trustworthy, where Ralph’s had been alert and dangerous. How could she ever have mistaken one of them for the other? She couldn’t meet his eyes. Would he turn away from her in disgust when she … if she …?
‘I imagined you packing. Evadne says you’re leaving.’
He balanced his pipe on the edge of the ashtray. The sharp, sweet aroma of his baccy hung in the air. ‘I didn’t want you to know about that yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘Have a seat and I’ll tell you.’
She whisked away as if he had tried to force her into the armchair. ‘I don’t want to sit down. I want to know what’s going on – and why you haven’t told me.’
‘Yet.’
‘So when were you going to?’
‘After Joey’s birthday.’
The energy that had brought her here evaporated and the dull ache of loss that accompanied her everywhere ballooned into a huge spasm of anguish that stifled her pulse. She sank into a chair, sniffing great dollops of air to forestall the tears.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘I’m sorry. It was tactless.’
‘So we’re both sorry.’ How easy it would be to leave, to walk out, to tell herself she shouldn’t have come. She had to concentrate on why she was here. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’
Adam returned to the settee, sitting on the edge, leaning forward, elbows on knees, hands lightly clasped. He had slender, sensitive hands, what Mam would call a piano-player’s fingers, though doctors must need clever hands too. Adam’s hands looked kind as well as clever. Ralph’s hands had never looked like that. Ralph’s hands used to pluck Joey from her.
‘I’ve been offered a post running the whole show in a place similar to this, only much bigger, but I haven’t accepted yet. I’m going down there to give a lecture at a conference and I’ll give them my decision then.’
‘Are you going to accept?’
‘Looks like it.’
She couldn’t bear it if he left. She had ignored him and avoided him, but it had been safe to, because he was always there, one of the constants in her life. She couldn’t do without him. She had avoided him and ignored him, but she couldn’t do without him.
‘Why?’
‘For
pity’s sake, Carrie, I don’t want to, but I think I ought to. Don’t you see, being here, seeing you … it’s too difficult. Since Ralph died, you’ve never given me the smallest indication of … anything. I don’t know what to think.’
She had to tell him. Yet how could she? How could she share her blackest secret?
Her throat closed. Her heart was going to explode with pain. She forced herself to meet his eyes, saw worry, confusion … hope; but above all, kindness. Kind, kind, kind. That was what she had to concentrate on.
‘It’s … it’s because of Joey. He … he died because …’ The hair lifted on her arms and at the back of her neck. Her skin went clammy, ‘… because I wasn’t a good mother.’
‘Carrie, no! You were the best—’
Her hands waved in front of her. To interrupt him? Or to pull the words back inside, to snatch them out of the air and unspeak them?
‘A good mother doesn’t have feelings for another man. A good mother concentrates on her child. Her mind shouldn’t be all over the place, teeming with … other things.’ Yanking off her gloves, she clenched her fists, digging her nails into the palms of her hands. The pain was meant to steady her, but her voice emerged on a wail. ‘All my life, the only thing I wanted was to get married and have a family, and when it happened I didn’t do it right. I stopped—I stopped paying attention.’
He fell to his knees in front of her. ‘Carrie, Carrie, listen to me.’ He disentangled her fingers. ‘What happened to Joey wasn’t your fault.’
‘It was!’ Remorse and shame swamped her. Her shoulders curled over into her chest, then sprang back. She pulled her hands free, shaking him off. ‘I didn’t come back and find him dead. Everyone thought that, everyone assumed it, and I let them, I let them, because … because what I did was so bad.’
‘Carrie—’
My fault. My fault.
Dozing off, falling asleep … while he died, he died, he died.
‘I was with him. I was there every moment. I never left the room. I was holding him – holding him. He was lying on my chest and … and I went to sleep and when I woke up, he was dead. He was lying on top of me and I never even felt him die. My own baby, and I didn’t feel him die.’
The Deserter's Daughter Page 38