Kathy bit down hard on her lower lip to still its sudden trembling. She didn’t normally give way to self-pitying tears, but the concern in her friend’s tone touched her. ‘It’s not only that. It’s – it’s – Oh, everything! The way he treats me. I’m nothing more to him than a servant. An unpaid one, an’ all. I’ve a good mind to up sticks and go!”
‘But – but if you go away – ne’er mind the choir – what would your poor mam do without you?’
Kathy sighed. ‘I know. I’ve only stayed this long because of her. Because he’ll take it out on her if I do leave.’
‘Does – does he – hit her?’
Kathy bit her lip. ‘He did once. She dared to answer him back about something. I don’t know what. I was only ten and I wasn’t actually in the room when it happened. I – I heard it though. Through the bedroom wall. She had a black eye for weeks.’
‘Has he ever hit you?’
Kathy laughed wryly. ‘Oh yes. With his belt. The last time was two years ago.’ Kathy smiled at the memory, but it was a bitter smile. ‘He hadn’t realized how strong I’d grown with working on the farm. And I snatched the belt from his hand and told him that if he ever tried it again, I’d go. I meant it. And he knew I did.’
‘But can you leave home? You’re not twenty-one for another two years.’
‘Well, he’d have a job to carry me back physically, wouldn’t he? And first,’ she added pointedly, ‘he’d have to find me.’
No more was said, but Amy went home without the usual cheery smile on her face. ‘What’s up with you?’ her brother, Morry, greeted her. ‘Lost a shilling and found a farthing?’
Tears started in Amy’s eyes.
At once, Morry put his arm about her. ‘Hey, Sis, what’s the matter?’
‘Oh, Morry, it’s Kathy,’ Amy blurted out as the tears now trickled down her cheeks. ‘She – she’s talking about leaving home.’
Morry’s round, gentle face was grim. ‘Well, I can’t say I blame her. Living with that ol’ devil. But where would she go?’
Amy shook her head. ‘She didn’t say. I – I expect she doesn’t trust me. And – to be honest – I can’t blame her. You know what a blabbermouth I am. And if she does go, she doesn’t want him to be able to find her.’
‘Mm.’ For a moment, Morry was thoughtful. ‘I’ll have a word with her. See if there’s anything I – we can do.’
Amy scrubbed away her tears and glanced up at her brother. ‘You could ask her to marry you.’
Morry didn’t answer. He just smiled quietly.
‘Maurice, lad. Nice to see you. Come away in. I’ll get the missis to mek a cuppa. Or would you prefer a beer? And a piece of ’er currant cake.’ Jim Burton’s laugh was humourless, with more than a hint of cruelty in it. ‘Or mebbe you’d prefer to give that last one a miss, lad. My missis’s baking’s not a patch on your mam’s.’
Morry gave a weak smile, not sure how to respond. Jim’s attitude towards his wife always made the young man feel uncomfortable. ‘No thanks, Mr Burton. I – er – just wondered if Kathy was about, that’s all. I – er – thought we could walk to church together.’
He felt the older man’s eyes searching his face keenly. ‘Ah, yes, well now . . .’ Jim Burton’s mouth was stretched into an unaccustomed smile. ‘She’s getting ready. I’ll call her down.’
‘No need, Mr Burton. I’ll just wait. She’ll not be long. She’s never late for church.’ He stood awkwardly in the middle of the yard, twirling his cap through nervous, slightly sweaty hands.
‘Well, at least come into the kitchen, lad. It’s cold to be standing out here.’
Reluctantly, Morry followed the man into the farmhouse kitchen. He’d much preferred to have waited out in the yard, however cold it was.
‘Maurice is here, Edith. Mek the lad a cuppa.’
The thin, worried little woman hurried forward. She smiled at Morry, but the young man could see that though her smile for him was genuine, it did not touch her sad eyes. The thought sprang immediately to his mind: what would this nice little woman do if her daughter – her only child – left home? Maybe that was the way to touch Kathy’s heart if . . .
‘Hello, Maurice,’ Edith Burton was saying. ‘Come in. Sit down while I—’
But at that moment there were footsteps on the stairs and Kathy burst into the kitchen. ‘I’ll have to go, Mam, I’m late—’ She stopped short. ‘Oh, hello, Morry. What are you doing here?’
‘He’s come to walk you to church,’ Jim Burton cut in and there was a warning note in his voice that said: Now, you be nice to this lad. He’s the one I want as my son-in-law.
Kathy managed to quell the involuntary shudder that ran through her. She didn’t want Morry to sense her revulsion. He was a lovely lad, but – not for her. She loved him dearly, but only as she would have loved a brother. She could never – would never – see him as a husband. As a lover! But, smiling brightly, she crossed the red tiled floor and linked her arm through his. ‘Come on then, Morry. Best foot forward. You know the choir can’t start without me. Bye, Mam . . .’
When they were a good distance down the lane from the farm, walking briskly both to keep warm and to arrive at the church on time – already the church bell was tolling through the frosty morning air – Morry could contain himself no longer.
‘Amy says you’re leaving.’
Kathy sucked her tongue against her front teeth to make a tutting sound of exasperation. But it was a good-natured expression. She rolled her eyes heavenwards as she said, ‘Oh, that sister of yours! Can’t keep a secret for love nor money, can she?’
‘She was upset, Kathy. She was in tears.’
At once, Kathy was contrite. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her. It’s just – it’s just – oh, Morry, I’ve got to go. I can’t stand it any more.’
The young man was silent, his dark eyes full of sorrow. ‘We don’t want you to go, Kathy. I don’t want you to go.’ He stopped suddenly and stepped in front of her, bringing her to an abrupt halt. He caught hold of her arms. ‘Kathy – please – don’t go. Stay. Stay and – and marry me.’
Kathy’s mouth dropped open in a silent gasp. She stared at him with wide blue eyes. When, after a few seconds, she found her voice, the words came out all wrong.
‘What’s he said to you? What’s he promised you?’
For a brief moment, puzzlement clouded Morry’s eyes, to be replaced, as understanding dawned, by hurt. ‘Oh, Kathy – how can you think that of me? Don’t you know how much I love you? Don’t you know I’ve always loved you? For as long as I can remember.’
Now there were tears in Kathy’s eyes as she reached up and cupped his round face between her hands. ‘I’m sorry. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. You’re a lovely, lovely man and I love you dearly – as a friend. But – but – Morry, I’m not in love with you. Not in that way. Not to marry you. I – I’m sorry, but I never could be.’
His kind face was creased with disappointment, but, strangely, there was no surprise, no shock or disbelief in his expression. Instead he sighed heavily and nodded, ‘I – I thought as much, if I’m honest.’
‘And we’re always honest with each other, Morry, aren’t we?’ Kathy said softly. ‘We’re still friends, aren’t we?’
Morry managed a weak, but genuine, smile. ‘Oh, yes, Kathy, I’ll always be your friend, no matter what.’ Catching hold of her hands and gripping them tightly, he held them close to his broad chest. ‘Whatever happens, Kathy, whatever you do, always remember that I’m your friend.’
Kathy’s voice was husky as she whispered, ‘I will, Morry. I will.’
It was not the ‘I will’ that Morry longed to hear her say, but it would have to do.
With a sudden, old-fashioned gesture of courtesy that was way out of character, Morry raised her cold, chapped fingers to his lips and kissed them. ‘Good. And now we’d best start running. The bell’s stopped.’
*
‘So – did he ask you then?’
‘To wed him, of course?’
The spoon trembled a little in her hand as she felt her mother’s timorous glance. Kathy pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she carried on serving both her mother and herself with vegetables.
‘Well?’ Jim Burton snapped. ‘Are you going to answer me, girl?’
‘He did ask me, yes.’
‘And?’
‘I – I refused.’
‘You – did – what?’
A sudden calm settled over Kathy. Whatever her father might say – or do – no matter however much he ranted and raved, she knew her answer had been the right one. ‘I refused him,’ she repeated, but bit her lip as, out the corner of her eye, she saw her mother tremble and the colour drain from her face.
‘You refused him? Have you gone mad, girl?’ Jim Burton rose slowly to his feet, his dinner forgotten.
Without warning, he raised his right arm and struck her on the left side of her face. Kathy dropped the dish she was holding. It smashed to the floor, spilling hot potatoes across the tiles. She stumbled and almost fell, but managed to regain her balance by clutching the edge of the table.
‘Jim—’ Edith pleaded, but he waved his hand in dismissal and the cowed woman shrank back into her chair and shrivelled into terrified silence.
‘Now you listen to me, girl—’ Jim wagged his fore-finger into Kathy’s face. ‘You get yourself over to the Robinson place this minute and you go down on your knees if necessary and you beg him to forgive you and you ask him to take you back.’
Kathy stared into her father’s eyes, seeing him – really seeing him – for the first time. Not any longer as her father, the man who, though strict and dominating, must be honoured and obeyed, but as the man he really was: cruel and self-centred, without an ounce of love or compassion in his embittered soul. Though the side of her face was stinging, she gritted her teeth and determined not to put her hand up to it. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had hurt her. But the physical hurt was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.
‘You hear me. You’ll do as I say.’ It was a demand, not a request, and in that moment, Kathy’s heart hardened irrevocably as he added, ‘You’ll go to the Robinsons’ this very minute.’
Briefly, she glanced down at her mother. ‘I’m sorry, Mam,’ Kathy said softly. ‘So sorry . . .’
For a long moment, mother and daughter gazed at each other and then the girl saw the brief flicker of a smile on the older woman’s mouth. Edith gave an almost imperceptible little nod that told her daughter all she needed to know.
‘And so you should be,’ Jim growled. He sat down and picked up his knife and fork, confident that the matter was at an end, that now he would be obeyed.
Kathy moved round the table and knelt beside her mother’s chair. Edith clasped her hand and leant forward to kiss the girl’s forehead. ‘God bless you,’ she whispered so low that Kathy only just caught the words that released her, words that sprang the trap wide open.
She was free. Free to go, free to leave – and with her mother’s blessing.
‘You – you’ll be all right?’ Kathy whispered.
They both knew she wouldn’t be – not really – but Edith patted her hand, managed to raise a smile and say, louder now, ‘Off you go, love. You go to the Robinsons’.’
For a moment, Kathy leant her face against her mother’s bony shoulder and whispered, ‘I love you, Mam.’
‘I know, my darling, I know,’ the poor woman whispered back, ‘but off you go. It’s – it’s for the best.’
With a final squeeze of her hand, Kathy rose and moved towards the door into the hall and the stairs. She glanced back just once. Her father was eating as if nothing had happened, his whole attention on the food in front of him, but her mother’s gaze followed her.
Then Kathy turned and ran lightly upstairs to pack her battered suitcase.
Three
‘Hello, lass.’ Ted Robinson greeted her with a wave and began to cross the yard towards her. He was a big man, tall with strong, broad shoulders and a weather-beaten face that crinkled with laughter lines. ‘Going on your holidays?’
Kathy set the heavy suitcase down, straightened up and smiled at him as he neared her. ‘I’ve a favour to ask.’
‘Owt, lass, you know that.’
‘Could Morry take me to the station, please?’
The Robinsons had a dilapidated old truck that carried anything from pigs bound for market to the huge Christmas tree that Ted brought home every year.
‘Of course he can. But – but where are you going?’ Suddenly, the euphoria at her sudden freedom that had carried her this far faltered. ‘I – I don’t really know.’
‘Don’t know?’ For a moment Ted was puzzled. He moved closer, his gaze intent upon her face. ‘What’s been happening, lass? You’ve got a right old shiner coming up there.’ He frowned, already half guessing what had been going on in the Burtons’ unhappy household. He sighed and then said softly, ‘You leaving home?’
Kathy bit her lip and nodded. Then she blurted out, ‘Morry asked me to marry him and – and I said no. I’m sorry, Mr Robinson, truly I am. He’ll make someone a wonderful husband, but – but . . .’
‘But not you, eh, lass?’
She nodded.
The big man sighed. ‘I’m sorry too. Me an’ the missis would’ve loved you as a daughter-in-law, but if you don’t love the lad . . .’ He searched her face for a glimmer of hope that she might – just might – change her mind. Not seeing it, he murmured, ‘Aye, well, marriage is tough enough at times when you are in love, ne’er mind when you’re not.’ He glanced at her again, an unspoken question in his eyes.
She nodded slowly. ‘I know. I’ve seen the consequences at first hand. I don’t intend to make the same mistake. Not that I think Morry would be like that – like – like him, but . . .’
Ted put his huge, work-callused hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle, understanding squeeze. ‘Come along in,’ he said firmly, in a tone that brooked no argument. ‘And we’ll see what’s to do.’ He picked up her suitcase and walked towards the back door of the sprawling farmhouse, leaving Kathy to follow in his wake.
‘Mother,’ he shouted to his wife as he opened the back door. ‘We’ve got another for dinner. Set a place at the table, love.’
Betty Robinson bustled forward tutting with disapproval as she saw the red mark on the side of Kathy’s face and the swelling already beginning around her eye. ‘Now, what’s that old devil been doing? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want, cariad.’ Though Betty had been away from the valleys for many years, there was still a trace of the Celtic lilt in her voice. ‘Amy – Amy, come here.’
It wasn’t Amy who came into the kitchen, but Morry, his smile of welcome fading when he saw the telltale mark on Kathy’s face. For a moment, his benign, kindly face creased into anger. ‘Dad – we should go over there. We can’t let him get away with this.’
Before Ted Robinson could answer, Amy bounced into the room. ‘Kathy . . .’ she began and then halted, staring open-mouthed at her friend. ‘Wha. . .?’
‘You might well ask,’ Morry said grimly. ‘Been hitting her, that’s what he’s been doing.’
‘Now, now, let’s sit down and we’ll all have a bit of dinner together,’ Ted said. ‘You haven’t eaten, lass, have you?’
Kathy shook her head. ‘No—’ She smiled faintly. ‘It ended up on the kitchen floor.’
There was an awkward silence. No one knew quite what to say for a moment. Then Betty, ever motherly and sensible, said, ‘Amy, come and help me dish up. We’ll talk about it over dinner and decide what’s to be done.’
They ate in silence for several moments, even though not one of them had much appetite. Each was busy with their own thoughts, working out in their own minds what to suggest. Ted and Betty Ro
binson were ready to offer the girl a home. Amy was planning much the same, eager to have her very best friend as a sister, and Morry was determined to repeat his proposal. But Kathy had made her mind up and when she laid her knife and fork side by side on the plate, she cleared her throat and forestalled all their schemes by saying, ‘I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving.’
The other four stared at her and then all seemed to speak at once.
‘Oh now, cariad, don’t be hasty . . .’
‘You can’t leave, Kathy. What’ll I do without you?’ Amy’s eyes filled with ready tears.
‘I meant what I said, Kathy . . .’
‘You stay here, lass. Stay with us for a bit. That’ll make the old bugger come to his senses.’
‘It’s very kind of you and I love you all for it, but I have to go. I – I’ve been thinking about it for some time anyway. The – the only thing that has kept me here this long is – is Mam.’ Her voice broke then and she covered her face with her hands. The Robinsons glanced at each other uncomfortably, lost for words now.
Kathy pulled in a deep, steadying breath and raised her face, even managing to force a tremulous smile. ‘But now Mam’s sort of – sort of given me her blessing. But it – it doesn’t make it any easier. I can’t bear to think what might happen to her left alone with him.’
Betty touched Kathy’s arm with her plump, comforting hand. ‘She’ll want what’s best for you, cariad.’ For a moment, her fond glance rested on her own son and daughter. ‘Mothers always do. She’ll cope and – if not – then she’s always welcome to come here. We’d look after her.’
‘You’re very kind,’ Kathy murmured and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I – I don’t deserve it.’ She glanced apologetically at Morry.
‘We know all about Morry’s proposal,’ Betty said cheerfully. ‘And we’re sorry it’s not to be. But there it is. I wouldn’t want you saying “yes” to him just because you want to get away from home. I wouldn’t want you using him . . .’
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