‘You’re not one for traditions, you youngsters, are you?’ Ben said with false joviality. ‘In my day when we wanted to get married we asked the girl’s father first.’
Mick said nothing. Ben’s smile died.
‘You haven’t known my daughter very long, have you, Michael?’
No one had called him Michael since school, Mick thought with irritation. It made him feel juvenile.
‘I’ve known Carol all her life, Michael, and I can tell you she’s not easy to live with,’ Ben grunted. ‘In fact she can be exceedingly difficult. Moody, rebellious, never sticks at anything. Oh, I’m very fond of the lass, naturally, but she’s still very young, got a lot of growing up to do.’
The two men regarded one another with suspicion.
‘What is it you want to say to me, Mr Shannon?’ Mick asked stiffly.
Ben leaned forward. ‘What I’m saying, Michael, is that she’s too young to get married. She’ll have changed her mind in a few months’ time and then it’ll be too late. You’ll be landed with her.’
‘Landed with her? How can you say that about your own daughter? We may not have been going out long but I think I know Carol better than you think. She’ll not change her mind. Me neither.’
‘Listen, Todd,’ Ben snapped, ‘you have a good job in the pit, good prospects for the rest of your working life if you want it. Don’t throw it all away on a girl like Carol. She’ll never make you happy.’
Mick stopped himself giving his boss a mouthful of abuse. He was incensed by Shannon’s high-handed meddling in his personal life and astonished at the bitterness with which he talked about his own daughter. But Mick heard the menace in the remarks about his job in the pit and knew Shannon could make things difficult for him.
With restraint he replied, ‘This thing with Carol and me has got nothing to do with me job. It won’t affect the way I work down the pit. I’m sorry if you don’t want me for a son-in-law, but we’ve decided to get wed no matter what anyone thinks. We’ll make our own mistakes, Mr Shannon.’
They glared at each other, Ben going red in the face at Mick’s intransigence. He could see that nothing, not even veiled threats, would change the young man’s mind. He stood up abruptly.
‘I think you’re making a big mistake,’ he growled, ‘but I can see you’re both as pig-headed as each other. Carol will continue to do what she damn well wants, but she’ll have no help from me, financial or otherwise. I wash my hands of her.’
Mick flushed with fury. ‘That’s what you’ve always done, isn’t it, Mr Shannon? I’ve seen pet dogs tret better. Well, we don’t need your money, we can manage just fine. We’re not having a big white wedding at Brassy or a posh reception at the castle. We don’t want to show off to anyone, we just want to get wed.’
‘Get out, Todd,’ Ben seethed. ‘You don’t deserve my help. And you’re not welcome at my house either, son-in-law or not. As far as I’m concerned, Carol’s no longer mine, so you can both go to hell!’
Mick gave him a disdainful look and marched out of the office without another word, leaving his boss shaking with rage.
Charlie Todd was secretly laughing at him, Ben knew it; he bet the whole village was laughing at him. Because for all their airs and graces their daughter was marrying a ‘common pitman’, as Nancy called Mick Todd. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, despite all his carefully built power in the village. It mattered little to Ben that Mick was one of his ordinary miners, but it mattered a great deal that he was a Todd.
He whipped round and yanked the photograph of Carol off the wall where it hung below his other children. He glared at the broad smiling schoolgirl face with the shaggy brown hair and mischievous green eyes that looked back at him.
‘You silly little bitch, Carol!’ he roared and threw the framed photograph into the metal bin, where the glass shattered with a deafening crash.
Outside his window he watched the broad back of Mick Todd as he strode away across the pit yard and felt overwhelmingly alone.
Chapter Nine
In late September, Carol and Mick were married at the Methodist chapel on Good Street, where the Bowmans were regular attenders. It was to be a small affair of close family and friends with tea afterwards at the Comrades Club, where Charlie Todd was secretary. Right up until the last minute, Carol was unsure who, if any, of her own family would attend. As her parents were not speaking to her, she had asked her brother Simon to give her away, but he had made excuses about going on holiday with his girlfriend, Kate. Simon would be safely in France and so could avoid having to take sides. At Mick’s suggestion Carol had asked Eddy to stand in.
Eddy had looked at her in astonishment and Carol had thought he might refuse, but then he’d squeezed her arm and nodded. ‘I’d be pleased to, flower,’ he said, his voice full of emotion and Carol was not sure if he was delighted or embarrassed.
One thing had delighted her though; Kelly had agreed, after protest, to be her bridesmaid.
‘I’m too old,’ she had grumbled at first.
‘You’re nineteen, same as me,’ Carol had laughed. ‘And I promise not to dress you up in frills and petticoats.’
In the end, they had had a happy afternoon trawling through the boutiques and second-hand clothes shops in Whittledene, putting together their traditional outfits.
‘Val will never forgive you for not hiring one of her new bridal dresses,’ Kelly said.
‘Seeing as I’ll be leaving the chapel on the back of Mick’s motorbike, I think she’ll understand.’
Carol saw the expression change on Kelly’s face like a sudden shadow and quickly changed the subject. They settled on a cream denim knee-length skirt and matching jacket for Carol with black boots and a shocking-pink dress for Kelly. Both chose black berets.
‘The chapel won’t have seen anything like it,’ Kelly giggled. ‘What will Lotty Todd say?’
Carol grimaced. ‘Probably sigh with relief I’m not turning up in me leather jacket and jeans.’
On the wedding morning, Lesley gave Carol breakfast in bed and Kelly and Val Bowman came round with a bottle of sparkling wine to wish her luck and calm her nerves.
‘We’ve brought a surprise visitor for you,’ Val told her with a throaty chuckle, ‘an old school friend of mine.’
‘Someone else who used slates and pencils?’ Carol teased.
‘Cheeky!’ Val gave an affectionate swipe.
Kelly opened the door with a flourish and there standing behind it, clutching a huge bunch of flowers and dressed in a floppy Jubilee hat, was Auntie Jean. Carol screamed with delight and rushed to her aunt, throwing her arms round her.
‘I’m staying with Val,’ Jean told her, smiling. ‘Wouldn’t miss the punk wedding of the year.’
‘I’m dead grateful you’ve come all this way,’ Carol said. ‘You might be the only family there, you know.’
‘I gathered that.’ Jean gave her a rueful smile and another hug. ‘But we’ll make it one to remember.’
Vic stepped out of the Jacuzzi and rubbed himself down with a huge jade-coloured towel.
‘I’m going anyway,’ he told his heavily pregnant wife, ‘and I think you should too.’
‘Why do you have to do this?’ Fay cried petulantly. ‘You know I can’t go. It would be disloyal to Mother and Dad.’
‘Carol’s one of my employees,’ Vic said, dousing his beard with aftershave.
‘I’ve got nothing to wear,’ Fay complained. ‘Nothing nice fits me these days.’ She eyed her husband’s tall, hairy body and felt unattractive.
‘It’s hardly the social event of the year,’ Vic laughed.
‘Oh, God, the Comrades Club! I can’t face it.’
‘Just come to the chapel service then,’ Vic suggested indifferently.
Fay gave him a suspicious look. ‘You’ve got close to Carol working with her, haven’t you? Do you find her attractive?’
Vic wrapped the towel round his waist and padded across the deep pile ca
rpet to their bedroom door. ‘Carol’s like a little sister to me, nothing more,’ he said without turning round.
Fay was not convinced. ‘You’re not growing tired of me, are you, Victor? It must be difficult to fancy me when I look and feel like a beached whale.’
Vic hid his irritation at her constant carping about her pregnant appearance. He turned and strolled back across the room. He bent down and kissed her swollen stomach.
‘I love you like this,’ he grinned and put his hands on her enlarged breasts. ‘Let me show you how much,’ he said softly, nibbling at her neck.
Fay was mollified, but pushed him away. The thought of sex made her feel tired. ‘There’s no time,’ she replied, ‘not if I’ve to get ready for this wretched wedding.’
Carol arrived in a taxi with Kelly and Lesley and Auntie Jean and saw with a racing heart that Mick’s motorbike was parked outside the chapel. It gave her courage, as did the small band of onlookers at the steps. She recognised some of the drivers from work and their children, and two of Lesley’s friends from the pit canteen, Dot and Sid’s sister Joanne, both of whom had come to the hen night the week before.
‘Good luck, Carol!’ they called to her good-naturedly.
A squall of rain battered the wedding party and threatened to streak Carol’s black eye make-up. Kelly and Jean pushed her inside. The neat, plain chapel was decorated with yellow and white roses that filled the large building with perfume.
‘Lotty did those,’ Lesley whispered, nodding at the tasteful displays.
Carol raised her eyebrows in surprise. Her in-laws-to-be had been civil and co-operative over the wedding arrangements, but Carol was sure they had little enthusiasm for the match.
She saw Eddy in a smart suit and wide tie that must have been borrowed, but was amused to see he still wore his old winkle-pickers. He winked at her in encouragement and put out a tentative arm for her to take as the music struck up for their walk down the aisle. She was touched to see he had tears in his eyes.
In the blur of excitement, Carol noticed the Todds and Bowmans clumped together behind Mick’s strong shoulders. Beside him, his best man, Sid, stood with gleaming brown hair still wet over his collar, both of them self-consciously formal in hired suits.
The bride’s side of the chapel was virtually empty, save Auntie Jean and Lesley and a couple of girls from work. Then Carol heard the tap of heels behind her and turned to see Vic and Fay arriving late. She smiled at her sister, overjoyed that one of her immediate family had turned up, and wondered for a dizzy moment whether her parents had relented and come to support her too. But there was no one else and Carol swallowed her disappointment.
She turned forward again and was greeted by Mick’s loving, smiling face. He was waiting for her, impatient to start their future together, and she had no shred of doubt that she wanted him too. Never again would she stand alone in the world. Carol smiled back and felt Eddy squeeze her arm with encouragement as he let go and Mick stepped forward to be at her side.
Nancy Shannon looked out of the long French windows at Granville House and watched her husband in his grubby gardening clothes, methodically digging out the last of the annuals. The first frost had bitten last night and killed their fading blooms. He worked on as if it was an ordinary Saturday afternoon, as if nothing of note was taking place in the village that day.
Nancy stifled a sob and went to pour herself another gin. She thought of her youngest daughter at that very moment being married to the Todd boy and took a large swig, hoping to drown the pain she felt inside. She turned on the television at full volume, wanting to deafen the awful thoughts that plagued her mind, but still they haunted her. How dare Carol deny her the small pleasure of seeing her married, of being able to make the arrangements and choose a new outfit and be at the centre of the occasion. She was filled with bitterness and fury at her daughter for having chosen so badly.
Yet as the alcohol numbed her senses, she dared to blame her husband. With it came a surge of bravery. She would defy Ben and rush round to the chapel to see Carol. She yearned to know what she looked like, who else was there, what they were all saying and doing. Carol was her baby. He didn’t have the right to stop her!
Then her husband straightened from his digging and turned to look at the house, as if he could read her thoughts, and Nancy jumped back guiltily out of sight. Of course she could not go there without him - she was incapable of doing anything without Ben Shannon.
Nancy flopped down on the flowery patterned sofa, sloshing her drink over her pale yellow trousers, and broke into racking sobs. She was contemptible! She was a coward and a drunkard. She had been a useless mother and a disappointment as a wife. All she had to show for twenty-five years of marriage was this Gothic, draughty house filled with expensive pretty furnishings but echoingly lonely now her children were gone. Nancy felt crushed by the burden of her failures. All through the afternoon she sat drinking and weeping and wishing she was somewhere else.
It was time to leave. Sid had given an amusing, irreverent speech about Mick, and Mick had said a few brief, tenderly shy words about his new wife. They had eaten the pies and salad tea and ice cream laid on by Dimarco’s genial proprietor Paul and the club bar had been flowing generously with drinks provided by the Todds. Now people were coming up to the newly-weds and kissing them goodbye and good luck as they prepared to leave.
‘Have you still not booked anywhere after the first night?’ Lesley asked incredulously.
Carol laughed, thinking how sensible and organised Lesley’s honeymoon would be if she ever got Eddy to the altar. ‘No, we’re just going to take off on the bike and see where we end up,’ Carol grinned, her insides churning with impatience to be off and away with Mick.
Sid came up and kissed her, and her new father-in-law broke off his argument with Captain Lenin on the protracted strike down at Grunwick to give her a peck on the cheek in an astonishing display of affection. ‘Take care, lass,’ he growled.
Kelly threw her arms round Carol and burst into tears. ‘It’s never going to be the same now!’ she wailed.
‘I’m only away for a week,’ Carol teased her and gave her friend a hug. ‘I’ll come round as soon as we’re back. And once we get moved into Dominion Terrace, we’ll be in the next street to each other.’
But this just seemed to upset Kelly more and she howled louder. Val stepped in and prised the bubbling Kelly away. Carol caught Mick’s look across the room and they both made towards the door. Lotty stopped her.
‘Make him happy, Carol,’ she said in a low but firm voice. The two women regarded one another for a moment. Until their colliery house was ready, they were going to have to live under the same roof as Mick’s parents, Carol thought without relish. She was going to have to be careful not to clash with her mother-in-law over Mick.
‘We will be happy,’ Carol replied with conviction.
Lotty’s concerned face suddenly lit with a smile. She patted Carol’s arm. ‘Aye, well, any road, you’re family now. We’ll take care of you, pet. So off you go and enjoy yourselves while you can.’
Carol felt an unexpected flood of warmth towards the fair-haired woman and on impulse leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Mrs Todd.’
Lotty said in a fluster, ‘Call me Lotty, or call me Mam, but no more Mrs Todd, do you hear?’
Carol grinned and nodded and felt she had passed through some invisible barrier on the way to being accepted as a new daughter. And she was more than grateful. Her own mother had never turned up to wish her well and Fay and Vic had left early with excuses about her sister being exhausted. Carol had the impression Fay had been bullied into coming by Vic and would rather not have been there at all.
They emerged into the fading afternoon light and prepared to mount the motorbike, their few holiday clothes bundled into the panniers on the back. As Carol pulled on her helmet, Eddy lurched up to her and gave her a hug.
‘Lovely lass,’ he slurred and Carol thought he wanted to say
something else but was either too overcome with emotion or beer to form the words. She gave him a kiss and then straddled the bike behind Mick.
The guests fell back to the club doorway as the bike revved and kicked into life and they were off with grins and waves, roaring up the steep high street and past the park gates. Carol clung to Mick’s back, suffused with happiness, watching Brassbank fade behind them as they made for the open road. Tonight they would spend their first night of marriage in Durham, the city of their summer courtship, and after that. . . Carol could not think beyond the bliss of the night ahead.
She felt Mick’s gloved hand rest on her leg and give it a possessive squeeze. He shouted out and set the startled rooks around Brassy Church screaming in alarm.
‘What did you say?’ Carol shouted back.
‘I love you, Carol!’ Mick bellowed above the engine’s roar.
Carol laughed and hugged him tight. It was the first time he had actually said it, though she had known the truth of it all along.
Sid found Kelly outside the club, smoking in the dark.
‘That’s where you’ve got to,’ he said, plonking himself down beside her on the cold steps. ‘I thought you must’ve gone home.’
‘What and miss a party?’ Kelly said sarcastically.
Sid threw his arm round her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. ‘I know you’re missing Carol, but she’ll be back soon. Life goes on, pet.’
Kelly winced and ground out her cigarette. Life, she thought bitterly. She could never tell Sid that she had once carried the start of life inside her - her baby, Mick’s baby. Bloody Mick Todd! She had got rid of their child because she could not bear the thought that he had never really wanted or loved her. She could have used being pregnant to trap him and make him marry her, but for what? He would have despised and resented her and sooner or later he would have rejected her and the baby anyway, she had told herself.
Durham Trilogy 03. Never Stand Alone Page 11