Durham Trilogy 03. Never Stand Alone

by Janet MacLeod Trotter

  ‘Dirty stop-out!’ Kelly peered long enough to notice the man standing at Carol’s side and then disappeared.

  ‘Better go now, eh?’ Carol told Pete.

  Pete smiled and kissed her quickly on the mouth. ‘I admire your loyalty to Mick. But you know that I won’t be far away if you need me, don’t you, Carol?’

  She pushed him down the path. ‘Go.’

  ‘He’s a lucky sod,’ Pete whispered and blew her a kiss as he disappeared into the dark.

  There was a fumbling with locks and then Kelly’s head appeared round the door.

  ‘Where’s he gone?’ she asked.

  ‘Who?’ Carol countered.

  ‘Don’t give me that butter-wouldn’t-melt expression,’ Kelly snorted. ‘Haway in and tell me what you’ve been up to with that reporter of yours.’

  ‘He’s not mine,’ Carol hissed.

  Kelly put her finger to her lips. ‘Shh! My room. Tell all. Then I’ve got a secret for you that’ll knock your socks off!’

  Carol looked at her friend’s animated face and felt a pang of misgiving. She knew that Kelly had been keeping something from her for ages, but now that her friend was going to confide in her, she was frightened of what she was about to discover. She would much rather have crawled into her bed to ponder what had happened to her tonight. But Kelly would never allow her to get away with that, so with reluctance she tiptoed after her red-headed friend and steeled herself for the interrogation.

  The small picket on the gates was no match for the convoy that swept towards them down the main street of Brassbank and on towards the pit. But Charlie went among the men, encouraging them to stand firm and block the bus that trundled towards them. Mick strained to see if he could recognise any faces, but the windows were covered in wire mesh to resist assault and all he could glimpse was an anonymous figure wearing a black balaclava to conceal his identity.

  The pickets rushed into the road to halt the bus, but a loud-hailer warned them to stand back from the road. Mick ran alongside the vehicle and battered his fist against the side. Even the driver was wearing a helmet. Mick realised with a shock that it was Kelly’s father, Ted Laws. For a moment their eyes met and then Ted looked away quickly and revved the engine. Mick thought how Sid, Ted’s son-in-law, had sacrificed everything not to cross the picket line, even to the point where his marriage to Kelly seemed shaky. Yet here was old man Laws actively breaking the strike by bringing in the scabs who cowered in the bus not wanting to be recognised. Worst of all, Mick realised, if Ted was the driver it confirmed that the bus belonged to Vic Proud, his own brother-in-law.

  He swore and hammered the side of Proud’s bus in his fury. ‘You’ll not bring them in, Laws!’ he roared.

  A policeman rushed up and pulled him away from the bus, but Mick was stronger and threw him off. As the bus edged forward, Mick hurled himself into the road in front of the bus. There was a screech of brakes and shouts.

  A local officer, a cousin of Lotty’s, came forward and held up his hand to the bus driver, then turned to Charlie.

  ‘Call your lad off, Toddy, will you?’ he asked. ‘We don’t want any trouble.’

  ‘Looks like you’re set on trouble with this army of occupation you’ve brought in,’ Charlie challenged him.

  George Bowman looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s back-up from other forces,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Either we take care of this ourselves or the boys from the south will take over the show. Neither of us wants that now, do we, Toddy?’

  ‘We have a right to talk to the lads on board,’ Charlie was firm, ‘that’s what the picket’s here for.’

  ‘And it’s my duty to see that they get safely into the pit,’ Bowman said wearily.

  ‘Since when has it been your duty to protect scabs instead of striking miners?’ Charlie demanded. ‘What happened to impartial policing?’

  Bowman glared impatiently. ‘Toddy man, I haven’t come here to argue with you. I’m not interested in your politics, I’m just doing my job.’

  ‘The very fact you’re here protecting strike breakers is a political act, George,’ Charlie told him, ‘so don’t pretend this isn’t political. Everything’s political. You’re being used by the Government against your own people, George, just like the police were in twenty-six when your own father was a pitman. Doesn’t that bother you? Don’t you sometimes wonder what your father would’ve done? He’d have been standing on this side, George, with me, or lying down in front of the bus with Mick, wouldn’t he?’

  George Bowman looked down at Mick stretched out in the road in his worn-out jeans, his gaunt face resolute. By now other men had joined him, while a steady flow of miners and onlookers had come out of the dark to gather at the pit gates, defying the men in uniform. George had a lifetime of experience among these people, his own people, and knew the lengths to which they would go to protect their own. They were loyal, stubborn and would tolerate great suffering for what they believed to be right. For a moment, Mick Todd seemed to embody all that George Bowman respected in the Durham miner and he would not see the lad harmed.

  Abruptly, he turned on his heel and waved at the bus. ‘Back her out!’ he ordered.

  There was a moment of confusion while all around took in what was happening, but George ordered his men to fall back.

  Charlie looked up the hill where the convoy of police vans waited to be called upon. They were not called. Ted began to back the bus down the street, until he reached the opening to a back lane where he could turn.

  George came up to Charlie again and said with a grim look, ‘This is just a reprieve, Toddy. These lads will be back.’ He jerked a thumb towards the riot vans. ‘I can’t stop them any more than you can. But there’s been no trouble in our village, and I’d rather keep it that way. Speak to that lad of yours, won’t you? I might not be here to save his skin next time.’

  Charlie nodded and smiled briefly and George knew that was the nearest he would get to a thank you from Lotty’s husband. He turned and led his men away, wondering whether he had acted foolishly after all these years of careful policing. He was too tired to ponder his decision; all he knew was that the situation had been too volatile and he would not go into retirement with blood on his hands.

  Mick was hauled up and clapped on the back.

  ‘Well done, lad,’ Stan Savage congratulated him.

  ‘You’ve turned the buggers back!’ Frankie Burt crowed.

  Mick grinned with triumph, but his father broke into the shouts of victory.

  ‘Like Bowman said, they’ll be back at the next shift,’ Charlie warned. ‘We’ll need a bigger picket to see them off next time. So gan and put the word out now!’ He turned to Mick. There was no need to speak of his pride in his son again; it lay like an invisible bond of strength between them.

  Lowering his voice, Charlie said, ‘We need to know who was on that bus and where the pick-up is.’

  ‘Aye,’ Mick nodded grimly. ‘Leave that to me.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Carol was stunned when Kelly told her.

  ‘Pregnant?’ she cried.

  ‘Aye,’ Kelly grinned, ‘isn’t it great? It’s what I’ve always wanted really.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ Carol stammered, ‘of course it is. It’s just I didn’t think you and Sid were, you know . . .’

  Kelly stared at her an instant and then started to laugh. ‘Hell no, it’s not Sid’s baby!’ The dawn light was already fusing the room with a pearly glow and Kelly’s face shone with happiness.

  Carol sank down on the bed. ‘I don’t think I want to hear this.’

  ‘Haway,’ Kelly mocked, ‘don’t come on all virtuous with me, not after you’ve spent half the night on the beach with that journalist with the tight little arse.’

  ‘I told you nothing happened between Pete and me,’ Carol protested too hotly.

  Kelly smirked. ‘Oh, aye? I bet Mick wouldn’t see it that way.’

  Carol gave her friend a warning look. ‘Don’t you dare go
telling him tales.’

  Kelly pouted. ‘Forget Mick. Now do you want to hear who the father is or not?’

  Carol sighed, ‘Not really, but you’re obviously going to tell me anyway.’

  ‘I thought you would’ve guessed by now,’ Kelly grinned. ‘We’ve been seeing each other on the quiet since last year. We’ve just been waiting for the right moment to leave our partners but with the strike and that—’

  ‘Oh, Kelly man!’ Carol exclaimed. ‘He’s not married an’ all?’

  ‘All the best blokes are now, aren’t they?’ Kelly answered defensively. ‘But this is the excuse I’ve been waiting for to leave Sid - now I’m pregnant with this bloke’s baby. Once he knows, there’s no way he’ll stop with his wife any longer.’

  Carol stared at her friend as if she had gone mad. But Kelly looked radiant. This was the reason why her figure had filled out to its former roundness, why she was happy in a way she had not been for years - she was carrying the baby of a man she really loved. Carol had always suspected her marriage to Sid had been a sham, something Kelly had done because all her other friends were getting wed and she did not want to be left out. Perhaps if she and Sid had managed to have a bairn . . . Carol had often wondered what difference a child might have made in bringing them closer together. Her mind spun to think of how Sid would react to the news that Kelly was carrying someone else’s child while he had longed for Kelly to settle down and give him a family.

  ‘Are you telling me this lad doesn’t even know you’re pregnant yet?’ Carol asked in disbelief.

  ‘You’re the first person I’ve told.’ Kelly smiled her secretive smile. ‘You should be honoured.’

  ‘Kelly,’ Carol was impatient. ‘How do you know he won’t go off the deep end with you? Does he want bairns? He might already have a family.’

  ‘He has.’ She looked unconcerned. ‘He’s got two daughters.’

  Carol’s heart began to pound. She felt unexpected fear clutch her stomach. ‘Who is he?’ she whispered.

  Kelly gave her a look of triumph, like a cat that had just finished a bowlful of cream. ‘You know him. It’s your brother-in-law. Victor.’

  Carol gawped. Her ears rang as if blocked by sea water. ‘What? Vic? No! You must be kidding!’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ Kelly sounded miffed.

  Carol felt the hysteria rising inside. It was too absurd to be true! Unexpectedly, she found herself laughing.

  ‘Why’s that so funny?’ Kelly was hurt. ‘Why is it so unbelievable?’

  She was right, Carol instantly realised; it was quite believable. Vic; with his string of suspected infidelities, his go-to-bed eyes and wandering hands and that sensuous mouth with the moist kisses. Vic the boss; with his money and position of power over impressionable, unhappy Kelly, wooing her with his brashness, his cash and his empty promises. Kelly must have been easy prey, Carol thought with disgust, keeping her happy with secret dates while Fay kept order in their expensive home, entertaining his clients and bringing up his children.

  ‘I’m just as good as that stuck-up sister of yours,’ Kelly continued. ‘She gives him a hard time for everything. His life’s a misery with her. Spends his money like water, won’t do anything in bed—’

  ‘Shut up!’ Carol suddenly snapped. ‘I don’t want to hear whatever Vic’s been mouthing off about Fay just to get you into bed. Kelly man! I didn’t think you’d fall for all that rubbish.’ Carol thought with distaste how her brother-in-law had even tried it on with her when she had gone to him for help. ‘Vic’s a womaniser; he’s always done exactly what he wants. You’re not the first one to be taken in. Why do you think they had a string of nannies that never stayed? But he’s never left Fay for anyone. They’ve got too comfortable a life together. He’s probably living off her business at the moment anyway. Why should he leave her now?’

  ‘Because we love each other!’ Kelly shouted. ‘I’m having his baby. I’ll tell Fay about it and then he’ll have to act. He’s dying for the excuse to leave her, he told me so. We’re going to live in their cottage up in Weardale. I’ve been there; it’s got big open fireplaces and rugs on the floor like summat out of Ideal Homes. Vic says she can keep the house in Brassy, he doesn’t care about all that, and I can’t wait to get out of the place. We’ve planned it all.’

  ‘Oh, Kelly.’ Carol did not know what to say.

  Kelly’s face was pleading like a small girl’s wanting approval. ‘I thought you’d be pleased for me. Isn’t it time I had a bit of happiness?’

  ‘But it’s all such a mess!’ Carol cried. ‘What about Vic’s girls? And Sid? It’s such a step to take. Don’t you think you better find out what Vic thinks about you being pregnant before you throw everything away?’

  Kelly looked close to tears. ‘I know what he’ll think. But I’ll ask him tomorrow and then you’ll see how serious we are about this.’

  ‘He’s here in Whitby?’ Carol asked in astonishment.

  Kelly nodded. ‘He’s been staying at a hotel down the coast for the past three days, but he’s ganin’ home tomorrow.’

  Realisation dawned on Carol. ‘That’s why you came on this holiday, isn’t it? You arranged it at the last minute to get away and be with Vic.’ Carol stood up. ‘’And I thought you’d come because you wanted to help out with the bairns. But you weren’t thinking about them at all, were you, Kelly? You were just thinking about yourself as usual.’

  Kelly’s eyes blazed. ‘Bloody hypocrite! You’ve used Laura as an excuse to come on the trip and get off with your fancy journalist. Don’t you lecture me about Sid when you’re going behind Mick’s back. Well, me and Victor are different. We’re not just having a dirty little affair.’

  Carol was stung. What was the use of repeating that she was not having an affair? Kelly’s accusations were not so wide off the mark anyway; she had come very close to the edge with Pete.

  ‘I would never leave Mick for anyone,’ she said hoarsely.

  ‘Well, more fool you!’ Kelly answered angrily. ‘He’s no saint.’

  Carol sprang forward and grabbed Kelly’s wrist. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ She flinched at the bitterness in Kelly’s flushed face.

  ‘Well, he walked out on me when I needed him. No man’s going to do that to me twice!’

  ‘You weren’t even engaged,’ Carol replied. ‘How can you say he walked out on you?’

  ‘He ditched me when he got me pregnant, that’s why!’ Kelly screamed.

  Carol let go of her, falling back as if she had been physically struck. ‘Pregnant?’

  ‘Aye! I was carrying Mick’s baby and then we finished . . . and . . . and I decided to get rid of it. I didn’t know what else to do.’ Kelly crumpled on the bed and burst into tears. ‘Oh, God, I wanted that baby! I still dream about it.’

  Carol felt winded. Why had Kelly or Mick never told her about this? She should have been told. ‘Mick knew about the baby?’ she asked, shaking Kelly on the shoulder.

  Kelly sobbed, ‘I never told him outright, but he must’ve guessed. Why else would he not want me? He scarpered that quick. I tell you, no one’s going to take away this baby. Even if Victor won’t have me, I’m going to keep it!’

  Carol shuddered. If Mick had guessed Kelly was pregnant, then he had been a coward to desert her and leave her to make the choice alone. She felt sick. Surely Mick could not have been so callous? But then he had been young and many lads his age shirked such responsibilities. Still, she felt somehow betrayed by the shocking news, to learn such a terrible secret about someone she thought she knew everything about. It was as if she no longer knew the man she was married to.

  All at once she wanted to escape from the claustrophobic room and Kelly’s vitriolic outburst. Their shouting had probably woken half the hostel. Had Vic stolen in and made love to Kelly right here while they had all been out on the beach for the day? Carol forced the image from her mind. She should have been back in her room with Laura and four of the other girls, but her bed would remain col
d and unslept in for she could not bear to creep to bed as if nothing had happened. She had to get out.

  Her thoughts rushed to Pete. He had told her he would be there for her when she needed him. She needed him now, she thought in desperation. Learning this about Mick, she wished she had given in to Pete on the beach. He at least did not pretend to be someone he wasn’t. He did not want her as a wife or a mother or a skivvy in the kitchen standing in support behind her man. Pete simply wanted her for herself, as she was, with no demands or expectations.

  ‘Carol?’ Kelly was sitting up, sniffing. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Out,’ Carol gasped and stumbled towards the door.

  ‘Don’t go!’ Kelly pleaded. ‘I didn’t mean to tell you those things. I’m sorry . . .’

  Carol lunged through the door and shut it behind her, not able to bear Kelly’s pity after her insults. She rushed back down the stairs of the silent hostel and let herself out into the street. A blast of cold sea air hit her as she emerged on the path and a watery pink sun was already emerging over the lip of the sea as she ran down the street.

  Mick went round to Ted Laws’ house later in the day. He knew Ted would not answer his knocking so he walked straight in. Ted was standing at the sink in his vest peeling potatoes and Mick hesitated a moment at the sight of the vulnerable, grey-faced man who had lost his wife so long ago Mick could not remember her.

  ‘What you want?’ Ted growled and spat into the sink.

  ‘You know what I want,’ Mick answered calmly, blocking the doorway.

  ‘Bugger off out of here,’ Ted grumbled.

  ‘Who are they?’ Mick demanded.

  ‘I don’t know their names.’

  ‘How many of them?’

  Ted shrugged. ‘It’s dark when I pick them up. I just drive the bus.’

  ‘Two? Four? Twenty-four?’ Mick questioned.

  Ted sighed, seeing Mick was obviously not going to give up. ‘Three. There’re three of them, but I don’t know who. They keep their faces covered.’

  Mick’s look was contemptuous. ‘Shit! They’re bringing in scores of police from all over the country just for three bloody scabs who daren’t even show their faces.’