by Maggie Hope
‘Righto.’
When the door closed behind Richard and Penny there was a small silence. Penny looked across at Elizabeth. She was pleating her skirt with nervous fingers, making tiny folds and letting them go. Doing it again and again.
‘I’m pleased to see you so much better, Mrs Fortune,’ said Hetty.
‘Thank you.’
Elizabeth stopped fiddling with her skirt and looked directly at her. ‘You know, if it had been up to me I would never have let you go off on your own. I was fond of you, Hetty.’
‘I know, Mrs Fortune.’
‘And when Matthew was killed …’ She stopped and took a tiny lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Hetty, I didn’t mean to get emotional. I know it must have been a terrible time for you, too.’
‘That’s all right, Mrs Fortune. It’s a long time ago.’
‘I wanted to bring you back here but Havelock … Mr Fortune wouldn’t hear of it.’
Hetty thought of that time, how Havelock had been – so vindictive, so determined to get rid of her and the baby she was expecting. But she had survived. She had done more than that: she had become a prosperous businesswoman and there was some satisfaction in thinking it was in spite of Havelock Fortune. She almost laughed aloud when Elizabeth went on.
‘You mustn’t think too badly of him, you know. He loved Matthew and only wanted the best for him.’ Elizabeth caught the bitter amusement in Hetty’s expression and looked away quickly. ‘Well … as you say, it was a long time ago.’
‘Yes.’
‘You realise that Penny is my only grandchild. It’s unlikely that Richard will marry now.’
‘For goodness’ sake, he’s still a young man. How can you say that?’
‘No, I think Richard is not the type to marry.’
Hetty said no more. To her mind, Elizabeth was jumping to conclusions. Or was she warning Hetty off? Did the older woman think she had designs on her son? No, that was ridiculous. Wasn’t it?
‘I didn’t mean to bring this up just yet, not until we had got used to each other again, but now that I’ve seen my granddaughter … she’s so pretty, isn’t she? And do you know, she looks so much like Matthew and Richard did when they were young.’
‘She looks like my side of the family too,’ Hetty put in, and she could hear the defensiveness in her own voice. ‘She has grey eyes like yours, but she’s like me in so many ways.’
‘Well, of course.’ Elizabeth was silent for a few minutes again and Hetty wondered what it was she was finding so hard to say. She had not long to wait for when the question came it was in a rush and the shock of it was even more sudden.
‘Would you consider coming to live here at Fortune Hall? After all, Penny ought to be here. She will have a much better chance in life. She will meet all the County people, it’s her birthright. She—’
‘No! Don’t say any more, it would be a waste of time. I will not consider coming here to live. Never.’ Hetty rose to her feet and went over to the window. The blood pumped painfully through her veins, her stomach felt as though she had swallowed a lead weight. She stared out of the window but of course, on this side of the house, she couldn’t see Penny or Richard. She wanted to run out of the house and find her daughter, gather her up in her arms and get away from here.
‘Well, I know you run a business, Hetty, you have your living to think of. But you wouldn’t need to work. You could stay here – I need a companion.’
Hetty couldn’t believe she had said that. Did Elizabeth still think of her as a servant?
‘No!’
‘Well,’ Elizabeth persevered, ‘if you don’t want to give up your business, you might consider letting Penny come to live with me? You know she will have a better life.’
That was enough. Hetty couldn’t trust herself to stay in the same room as Elizabeth, she felt like clawing her eyes out. She ran out of the room without another word, straight through the hall and the baize door to the kitchen. Out of the back door and she was in the yard, and there, just by the stables, was Penny, kneeling down and stroking a sheepdog. Richard was leaning against the stable wall but Hetty didn’t even look at him.
‘Come on, Penny,’ she cried, and ran across to her daughter. She picked her up in her arms and ran round the side of the house towards the car for she would not go back through that house, never would she go back inside.
‘Hetty! What’s the matter?’ Richard shouted, and came after her, easily catching up with her as she stumbled along with the child. ‘Did Mother say something? She wouldn’t mean to offend you, Hetty, really she wouldn’t.’ He tried to take Penny from her. ‘At least let me carry her for you,’ he said. ‘Or let her walk, she’s not a baby any more. Leave go of her, Hetty. Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?’
Penny was sobbing now, not knowing what was the matter with her mother. ‘Let me down, Mam. Please, Mam,’ she cried.
But Hetty shook her head. She didn’t stop until she got to the car when she stood Penny down and opened the car door. ‘Get in, pet,’ she said. ‘It’s all right, don’t cry.’
She ran round to her own side, shrugging off Richard’s hand when he tried to hold her. ‘Don’t touch me!’ she shouted and got in the car. The engine failed the first time but then it caught and she was away in a spurt of gravel.
‘But why?’ she heard Richard shout as she sped away from Fortune Hall. The gates were open. Mr Oliver was sitting in a chair outside his front door and began to rise to his feet as she went past, but she was too upset to do more than wave to him. Then she was racing over the moor towards the coast and home.
Chapter 35
Hetty went back to Morton Main the next day, a Sunday, though it was a strain keeping a cheerful face before the family. Fortunately Gran was there for Sunday dinner; the old lady was frail now and, though she wouldn’t admit it, needed help with practically everything. ‘Blooming arthritis, Hetty,’ she grumbled as Frank helped her up from her chair. ‘I only used to be bothered with it in the winter time but now it’s all the flaming time.’
‘Watch your language in front of the bairn,’ Maggie whispered fiercely.
‘What language? If I wanted to use language, you would know about it,’ snapped Gran. There was nothing wrong with her voice or her brain, Hetty thought to herself. But she had heard Gran swear when she got really annoyed and was glad she was restraining herself before Penny.
The little girl was quiet at first. She sat on the sofa in the corner and watched the rest of the family with shadowed eyes. She had slept badly, with frightening dreams, and consequently Hetty had had a bad night too, having to get up often to comfort her daughter.
‘What did I do?’ Penny had demanded when they had got a distance from Fortune Hall. ‘I was a good girl, wasn’t I? Did Grandmother not like me?’
‘No, it wasn’t your fault, it was mine,’ Hetty assured her. ‘I had to come away in a hurry. I … I forgot I had an appointment.’ But Penny was not comforted.
‘I hope she’s not sickening for something,’ said Gran. ‘You know, there’s diphtheria about.’
‘Not here though, surely?’ Hetty turned to her mother, a surge of fear rising in her.
‘No, not in the rows, nor the village either. But I did hear there was some over West Auckland way.’
Hetty was relieved, that was some distance away. ‘Penny didn’t sleep much, that’s all,’ she said. ‘I think we’ll go home early, I want her to have an early night.’
They set off soon after dinner and well before tea, though Penny grumbled because she hadn’t had time to go with Frank when he walked the whippets. But Hetty was keen to be gone. It took all her willpower to keep cheerful as long as she did and she walked on eggshells in case she or Penny let slip anything about their visit to Fortune Hall. She wasn’t ready to discuss it with her family. In fact, she didn’t think she would be able to discuss it at all.
The day was overcast and it began to rain during the meal so the we
ather provided another excuse for her to go early. She was thankful to wave goodbye to them from the car, as Maggie and Thomas stood framed in the doorway.
‘There’s something bothering the lass, Maggie,’ Gran said when she had gone. ‘But then, she’s always been one for keeping her troubles to herself. I only hope she’s not getting mixed up with another man. By, our Hetty has no luck with men.’
‘Oh, Mother,’ Maggie exclaimed. ‘It’s probably just business worries, you know what she’s like. She’s more interested in the business than in men.’ She glanced over at Thomas who was standing before the fire in his shirtsleeves and braces, filling his pipe. ‘Whoever would have thought of our Hetty in business, eh, Thomas?’
‘Aye, she’s a clever lass,’ he took the pipe out of his mouth to say. ‘A lass to be proud of, eh, Maggie?’
In the car, Penny soon fell asleep, slumped in the seat beside Hetty. She looked comfortable enough so Hetty didn’t disturb her. But when she arrived back in Saltburn, Penny was still asleep and Hetty had to carry her up the stairs to the flat. Sylvia was back from her visit to her parents and met her at the head of the stairs.
‘I’ll take her,’ she whispered, and Hetty was pleased to hand over her burden. As she took off her hat, Sylvia paused on her way to take Penny to bed. ‘You have a visitor,’ she said. ‘I told him you would not be back until much later but he wanted to wait.’
Hetty immediately thought it must be Richard and braced herself mentally. When she opened the sitting-room door she found she was right.
‘You’ve wasted your time coming here, Richard,’ she said without preamble. ‘I have no intention of bringing Penny to live with your mother.’
‘No, of course not,’ he replied, ‘I never dreamed you would and Mother was wrong to suggest it. How are you, Hetty? You look tired.’
‘So now you’re going to tell me that looking after the business and looking after my daughter is too much for me, are you?’ Hetty’s temper was rising though she wasn’t sure why.
‘Please, I’m not implying anything, I was just stating a fact. You look tired, it’s the truth.’
‘Well, I’m not surprised. Penny had a bad night and consequently so did I. Now I’ve just driven forty miles to Morton and back. I have a right to be tired.’ She stood before him, confronting him, he thought, and he tried to bring the conversation back to normal.
‘Will you sit down? I’m rather tired myself and can’t sit until you do, I’m afraid my upbringing won’t let me.’
‘I suppose you think I wasn’t taught any manners, not in a pit village?’ Hetty snapped, but she sat nevertheless and he took the seat opposite hers.
‘I never thought anything of the sort. You’re not being fair in saying that, Hetty.’
‘Perhaps I’m confusing you with your brother. I think you’re more like he was than I believed.’
Richard sighed. ‘I didn’t come here for an argument, Hetty.’
‘No. Then why did you come?’
‘I wanted to explain.’
‘There’s nothing to explain, it’s all perfectly plain. Your mother thinks she’s a better person to bring up Penny than I am. And you knew what she wanted when you came here in the first place.’
Hetty knew she was probably exaggerating but she couldn’t help herself. She sat back in her chair, her hands folded in her lap, her face set and white. She looked very alone, very determined, intent on defending her child, thought Richard. And very beautiful, too. If anything, the years had improved her beauty.
He had been very angry with his mother when he went back into the house after Hetty drove away.
‘What did you say to her?’ he had demanded.
‘I only said it would be better if she came back to live here with Penny, but Hetty refused,’ his mother replied. She too looked upset, her bottom lip trembled, but Richard was too angry to feel sorry for her.
‘But, Mother, I told you, they live very comfortably in Saltburn, Hetty has a thriving business, why should she want to live here?’
‘This is Penny’s home, or it should be,’ Elizabeth had answered.
‘No, it isn’t, Mother. Father made sure of that. The child’s home is with her mother, wherever she wants to live.’
‘I’m an old woman.’ Elizabeth’s voice shook. ‘I want to have my granddaughter near me. You live in Africa, Penny is all I’ve got—’
‘No, Mother, Penny is Hetty’s child. I told you, you have no rights over her.’ He stopped for a second as a thought struck him.
‘You didn’t say Penny could come to live here without Hetty, did you?’
Elizabeth didn’t have to answer, he could see he had hit the mark by her expression. So now he was with Hetty to try and repair the damage done by his mother.
‘Hetty, I’m sorry my mother upset you. You know she would never try to take Penny from you, she likes you.’
Hetty gazed at him. ‘It didn’t seem like that to me, and what’s more I think you only came here to try to get me to give up Penny. You weren’t interested in how I was doing, how I had managed since she was born. I always thought you were the only one of the Fortunes who had any feeling for people, but I was wrong.’ She stopped talking, suddenly realising she had probably revealed some of her own feelings for him, her hurt at his betrayal as she saw it. She stared down at her hands, clenching them until the knuckles gleamed white.
‘No, Hetty, that’s not how it was at all,’ he said softly. ‘I came here because I wanted to see you. I wanted to be sure you were all right.’ He glanced around the well-furnished room, the deep-pile carpet, the furniture, everything of good quality. ‘I needn’t have worried, though, need I? You proved yourself well able to take care of yourself and my niece.’
‘I did it all on my own!’ she flared, choosing to take his words the wrong way. ‘It helped that I had a partner, of course—’
‘A partner?’ Richard was frowning and she could almost read his thoughts.
‘Not Jeremy Painter nor any other man! Well, of course, Mr Jordan is a man, but it wasn’t like that. He’s a family friend, an old man, old enough to be my grandfather. Jeremy Painter was simply my employer for a while, when Matthew was alive. I was never involved with him, I took not a penny from him except my due wages.’
‘Please, Hetty, I didn’t mean anything. In any case, it’s none of my business, is it? How you got started, I mean. The fact is you have done so well—’
A discreet knock interrupted him and Sylvia put her head round the door. ‘Sorry to butt in but would you like tea served now, Hetty?’
‘Would you care for some tea?’ she asked Richard, her voice stiff.
‘No, I think I’d better be going,’ he replied. ‘Thanks all the same.’ He got to his feet and Hetty followed suit with relief. Her head was throbbing, no doubt because of the stress of the last couple of days. Sylvia had gone back out, closing the door quietly behind her.
‘I will come back,’ said Richard. ‘Perhaps when you have had time to think over what I’ve said, you’ll realise I’m not so bad as you think.’ Hetty watched as he walked to the door where he turned back. ‘I have plenty of time,’ he went on. ‘I have three months’ leave and may have more. I could be leaving the service. I will come back. I want us to get to know each other as we haven’t had the chance to before. And I want to get to know Penny.’ He hesitated before going back to her. ‘Hetty,’ he said softly, ‘please don’t think I’m your enemy. I’m not.’ He took her hand and carried it to his lips in a gesture she had only ever seen in films, yet in Richard it seemed anything but theatrical.
‘I don’t know what to think,’ she said.
‘Well, I’ll go now. I’ll telephone one day next week, if I may?’ He was no longer stating his intentions but asking her, Hetty realised.
‘I’ll be busy at the beginning of the week.’
‘Saturday then, or perhaps Friday? Thursday?’ He smiled at her, his face suddenly boyish, and Hetty could feel herself melting. Hurried
ly she snatched back her hand.
‘If you like,’ she said, and in an attempt to appear indifferent whether he did or not, ‘I may not be here, I may have to go to Whitby. No, I mean Guisborough. I have business with Mark Sefton.’
‘Mark Sefton?’ Richard knew Mark, and frowned. Why was she throwing in the name of a good-looking chap like Mark?
‘My solicitor.’
‘Oh.’
When Richard had gone, she flopped down in her chair and closed her eyes. She could still feel the touch of his lips on her hand. She rubbed her thumb over the place. She felt her guard slipping. She knew it and a part of her mind told her to be sensible, not to get involved, she wanted no more heartache. Jumping to her feet, she went to the door and called for Sylvia.
‘We’ll have tea now, if you like,’ she told her. ‘How do you fancy toasted teacakes? I’m feeling quite hungry.’
‘I’ll order some from downstairs,’ Sylvia replied. She glanced curiously at Hetty, obviously longing to ask about her visitor. Hetty had a look about her, a look Sylvia had never seen before. But instead she said, ‘Shall I waken Penny? She’s slept a long time, hasn’t she?’
‘No, leave her, she slept badly last night,’ decided Hetty.
It was about six o’clock when the telephone in the entrance hall of the flat rang. Hetty, who had been sitting idly leafing through a magazine and dreaming vague dreams of Richard, jumped to her feet. Because she had been thinking of him she somehow expected it to be Richard.
She picked up the telephone, smiling softly. ‘Hello,’ she said, ‘Hetty Pearson here.’
‘Hold the line, please, I have a call for you,’ said the operator. Then: ‘Please insert your money now, caller.’ It must be a kiosk, she thought. Where on earth is Richard? Probably in a pub.
‘Hello? Is that Mrs Pearson?’ It was Mr Hutchins’s voice. Something must be the matter with Charlie was the thought that jumped into her mind.
‘Mr Hutchins?’
‘Oh, Hetty, I’m ringing to say that Audrey can’t come back to work tonight, she’s poorly.’