‘Yes,’ Lotty sighed, ‘I’m sorry.’
Carol asked cautiously, ‘Do you think I’m being disloyal going to see them?’
‘Oh, pet,’ Lotty squeezed her hand. ‘You could never be accused of being disloyal. You’ve done more than enough for our family, our village. I’ll not blame you for going to see your own mam and dad and I’ll not let others bad-mouth you either.’
Thanks, Mam,’ Carol smiled. It seemed so natural calling Lotty that. She had never been as close to her own mother as she had grown to Lotty. What a disappointment we’ve been to each other as mother and daughter, Carol thought sadly and once again gave thanks for the way Mick’s parents had made her their own.
That weekend, she braced herself for the walk over to Granville House. Laura skipped and chattered all the way, oblivious of her mother’s apprehension. Carol half hoped that her father would be down at the pit offices, working. As they passed the end of the lane going down towards the pit yard, she realised how quickly she had got used to seeing the presence of police on their streets.
She no longer shivered at the sight of video cameras poised like birds of prey at the perimeter fence, training beady eyes over the colliery houses and their back lanes, far beyond the confines of the pit. The picket itself had become a part of the landscape; men huddled in donkey jackets stamping their feet to keep warm outside a crude shelter nicknamed The Alamo. Yet on reaching the gravel drive, Carol was shocked to see a constable positioned at the gate. Not recognising them, he came forward.
‘Can I help you?’
‘We’ve come to see Grandpa,’ Laura piped up at once.
The constable hesitated, then stood back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know . . .’
Carol flushed. ‘We don’t often come. Why are you here?’
‘Well, it’s these striking miners,’ he said confidentially. ‘Mr Shannon’s had threats. Not that it seems to worry him; it’s for Mrs Shannon, you know.’ He smiled. ‘You just visiting then? Bet you’re glad you don’t have to live in a hole like this.’
Carol went puce. ‘I do live here and it’s not a hole! Least it wasn’t till you lot marched in and took it over.’
The young man looked at her in astonishment and then suspicion. She would have turned round and left at once, but Laura had dashed up the drive and was shouting back at her. ‘Come on, Mam! I can see Grandpa in the garden.’
She followed her daughter, cursing herself for getting riled so quickly. She seemed to lose her temper at the slightest thing these days. She should not have let the constable’s silly comment bother her.
Carol’s heart lurched at the sight of Laura flinging herself at her grandfather and being picked up in a delighted hug.
‘How’s my favourite girl, then?’ Ben said as he kissed Laura.
‘What about Jasmine and Ngaio?’ Laura giggled.
‘They’re not around to hear my secret, are they?’ he laughed. ‘What have you been doing? I’ve missed you!’
‘What do you think we’ve been doing?’ Carol blurted out.
Ben shot her a look, but continued to question his granddaughter. ‘How’s the new class at school? Uncle Simon says you can count up to fifty.’
‘Sixty!’ Laura corrected.
‘Well, I can see you’re going to be an accountant.’
‘Uncle Simon rings me up. Why don’t you, Grandpa?’
Carol saw her father redden. ‘I must do that,’ he blustered. ‘Let’s go into the house and raid the biscuit barrel. Grandma’s going to be thrilled to see you.’
‘And can I have some ice cream? And then can I go on the swing?’ Laura bubbled with excitement.
‘Anything you want,’ Ben beamed.
It was too much for Carol. ‘Laura, pet, go and have that swing now while I talk to Grandpa.’
The girl looked between them in confusion and seemed about to protest, but Ben put her down. ‘Quick swing, then a special tea.’
Laura ran off happily. He turned to face Carol.
‘Dad, how do you think that makes me feel? You spoil her rotten for an hour and then what? She’s got to go back to living on baked beans in a house without heating - without her daddy. You don’t have to buy her affection.’
‘I haven’t seen her for months,’ Ben protested. ‘Why shouldn’t I spoil my own granddaughter? It’s not my fault you’re living in the state you are.’
‘No, it would never be your fault, would it?’
‘Well, it’s not. You know I would give you money if you asked for it. There’s no reason for you to live in squalor.’
‘You know I couldn’t take your money! Not while my family and neighbours are suffering like they are. Not while Mick stews in prison. Have you enough money to pay everyone’s debts?’ Carol looked at him squarely with angry green eyes. ‘All the money in the world wouldn’t make up for what’s happened to the miners. It’s never been a fight over money; it’s always been over jobs and the future. That’s why we have to see it through. That’s the only reason we put up with all the hardship. When will you ever understand?’
Ben was riled. ‘It’s you who doesn’t understand! If the men don’t go back to work, there won’t be a future for any of us at Brassbank. I’ve lived and worked here most of my life. I dragged your mother back here from Newcastle so that I could be manager of this pit because to me that was the best job in the world. I was so proud to be in charge here.’ His brown eyes blazed. ‘And I was proud to work with men like Charlie Todd because they don’t come much better than him. You won’t believe me, but I even admired your husband Mick before he went and attacked Dan Hardman. The idiot! He punched me too, did you know?’
Carol was taken aback by her father’s outpouring. ‘No - when?’
‘Just before he lay down in front of Proud’s bus and stopped the workers coming in,’ Ben grunted. ‘I went to see Charlie in his allotment - I often did before the strike. I suppose I was trying to get him to see sense as I saw it. But we argued and I said things I shouldn’t have. Mick stood up for his father and hit me. It was just like seeing a young Charlie standing over me again.’
Carol was astounded. ‘But you never did anything about it?’
Ben shook his head. ‘I’d asked for it. In a way I admired Mick for standing up to me. I’m not the sort to go blabbing to the police about a personal fight.’
‘Charlie never said anything,’ Carol answered, the anger draining out of her.
‘How is Mick?’ Ben asked at last.
‘I don’t know,’ Carol said in a small voice. ‘They won’t let me visit him until he stops his non-cooperation. He’ll serve out the full three months at this rate.’
Ben sighed. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not the way I would have wanted it.’ He waved Carol towards the house. ‘Come on; let me spoil you too for just one afternoon.’
Carol gave in. Ben called to Laura who came rushing over like a frisky puppy. Carol thought how skinny she looked; as if a sea breeze could lift her off spindly legs and blow her away like the autumn leaves. She would put principles aside for the afternoon and allow Laura to gorge herself on treats. There was no point in living beyond the day.
Her mother was quite flustered by their sudden appearance and she fussed around them, talking incessantly about everything but Mick and the strike. After half an hour, Ben could stand it no longer and took Laura back out in the fading light to pick a turnip to make a lantern for Halloween.
Immediately Nancy began to talk about Fay. Carol knew she had been bursting to speak of the affair since her arrival.
‘I can’t imagine what Vic was thinking of! I mean, that Laws girl has always been so common.’
Carol grew annoyed. ‘Stop it, Mother. Kelly’s still a friend of mine.’
Her mother humphed. ‘Anyway, is it true that she’s pregnant?’
Carol contained her anger. ‘Yes, she’s having Sid’s baby.’
Nancy snorted. ‘How do we know it’s not Vic’s?’
‘It’s none of our busines
s, Mother. You keep your suspicions to yourself. They don’t do anyone any good.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t go telling anyone, it would reflect too badly on Fay. She’s distraught about the whole thing, of course. Blames you for not stopping it in its tracks.’
‘Me?’ Carol said in amazement. ‘How was I supposed to know what was going on? And even if I did, how could I have stopped it?’
‘Well, you know Fay,’ her mother blustered.
‘Aye, still blaming her little sister for everything. Does it never occur to her that her precious Victor might be the real villain?’
Nancy sighed. ‘Anyway, they’re staying together for the sake of the children. It’s the best way. And perhaps it wasn’t all Vic’s fault. Maybe Fay made him unhappy.’ She shrugged.
‘Don’t go making excuses,’ Carol retorted.
‘And don’t you go getting on your high horse. No marriage is perfect and people do sometimes make mistakes they regret.’
Carol blushed, thinking of how attracted she had become to Pete Fletcher when she was feeling sorry for herself in the summer. She had been unhappy, vulnerable, close to being unfaithful. . .
‘How is Mick?’ Nancy asked suddenly.
‘Thought you’d never ask, Mother,’ Carol said sarcastically.
‘Well, you know I don’t approve—’
‘No,’ Carol cut her short, ‘so don’t say any more. He’s Laura’s father and you’ll not say a word against him, do you hear?’
Nancy looked at her strangely, Carol thought almost in fear. ‘Don’t be cross with me, Carol. It’s just I’ve always wanted more for you than this. It’s the reason . . .’ She shrugged and gave up trying to explain.
‘The reason what?’ Carol asked, suddenly aware something deeper was running through the conversation.
Nancy gave her a frightened look. ‘I’m being silly as usual, take no notice.’ She jumped at the sound of footsteps running along the hall. ‘Goodness Laura, you startled me!’
Ben appeared behind her, chill air still hanging around them like cloaks. ‘Your grandma’s such a bag of nerves all the time,’ he joked. ‘Jumps at her own shadow. She’ll be no fun at Halloween.’
Laura looked concerned. ‘It’s all right, Grandma, I’ll shine my lantern and chase the witches and goblins away. Then you’ll be safe.’
Watching her mother, Carol saw tears spring into her eyes. It was such an unusual sight, she felt disturbed by it. What was it about their conversation that had begun to upset her?
With the lantern, they set off into the dark back to Dominion Terrace, Laura promising they would call again soon. Carol was not so sure it was a good idea but decided to keep quiet for the moment.
In early November Carol got word from Ridley prison that she would be allowed to visit Mick. There were passes for three people and Carol asked Mick’s parents to go with her. Yet she was torn about whether to let Laura go with her, deciding that it would probably be too upsetting if she did. But the girl picked up from adult conversation what was going on and demanded to be taken.
‘She’s going on about it all the time,’ Carol told Lotty. ‘I’m going to have to take her.’
‘Well, it might cheer Mick up to see her,’ Lotty replied with a smile of understanding. ‘Charlie won’t mind giving up his place for her.’
Lesley Dimarco gave them a lift in the van on the day of the visit. They waited nervously in a canteen run by volunteers. Carol looked at the other visitors with apprehension, but they seemed just like her: distracted mothers trying to put on a brave face while keeping their bored children under control, wondering what they were going to say to their husbands when the time came.
Eventually they were shown into the interview room, secure and anonymous with Perspex tables. Mick came in with the other prisoners. There was an eruption of chatter and children’s wails, a scraping of chairs. Carol went to Mick and kissed him. Laura was suddenly shy and clung to her mother.
‘Say hello to your daddy,’ Carol ordered. But Laura was overwhelmed.
Lotty gave him a hug and then they all sat down. Carol saw the muscles in Mick’s neck working, as if he was trying to say something.
‘See-through tables, eh? Must be to stop us passing love notes,’ Carol joked.
Laura clung to her neck and peered with one eye at Mick.
‘How are you?’ they all said at once.
‘We’re champion,’ Lotty told him. ‘Father and Eddy said to ask after you. Keep your pecker up, Eddy said.’
‘And you?’ Carol asked again.
Mick nodded. ‘I’m fine.’ His voice sounded hoarse, as if it had not been used in a long time. ‘The other lads - they’re all right.’
‘I’ve brought you some books to read and some chocolate.’
‘What did you do that for?’ Mick was suddenly angry. ‘You can’t afford chocolate, Carol. Take it back for the bairn. We get better fed in here than you do at home. Three meals a day. One of the warders keeps reminding me,’ Mick added bitterly.
Carol gulped, feeling suddenly weepy. She could think of nothing to say. Lotty took over and began to chat about the soup kitchen and people in the village. But Carol had the impression that Mick was not really taking it in.
The time dragged and Laura shifted restlessly, asking to be taken home. Lotty picked her up swiftly. ‘We’ll wait for you outside while you say your goodbyes.’ She removed a protesting Laura.
When they were gone, Mick said, ‘You shouldn’t have brought her here. She shouldn’t see this.’
‘She was that keen to see you,’ Carol tried to explain.
‘It’s best if you don’t visit again, Carol. I’ll be out at the end of the month, any road.’
‘Aye,’ Carol agreed, putting on a brave smile, ‘you’ll be home soon.’ But inside she felt desolate and more unhappy than when she hadn’t been allowed to visit.
They said a brief goodbye and Carol stumbled out of the room, blinded by tears. She ached for the man she left behind and yet feared that he no longer loved her. What would it be like when he was released and had to come home? she wondered fearfully.
Mick went back to his cell. The familiar smell and claustrophobia made him nauseous. It seemed so much more oppressive now that he had seen his family. He felt completely exposed as if he had been stripped and searched and scrubbed down all over again. It was the ultimate humiliation to have them see him like this, so helpless. He could stand being in prison, had found to his surprise that he could make friends among the other men; they were not beyond the pale, as he had imagined. They were ordinary men with feelings like himself.
As long as he could keep his old life at bay, he had been able to cope with confinement. But their coming here had shattered his defences, left him naked and vulnerable to feelings. How he had longed to see them! But watching Carol sitting there with a frightened Laura, he had been seized with guilt that they were having to cope alone without him. How could he ever make that up to them? And now he had sent them away feeling wretched and unwanted and it tore at his heart.
He sat down and pulled a grubby notepad from under his pillow. He began to write. The pad was full of letters he had written to Carol and never sent, telling her about life in the prison, the other men, the time dragging without her, feelings that he could not express to her in words. It made him feel better to write them down. Perhaps when he got out he would show them to her and it might make up for what he had done. Maybe one day Carol might forgive him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Carol wanted to look attractive the day Mick was released from prison in late November, but she was full of cold and her top lip was marred by a cold sore. She went round to Val Bowman’s for a hot bath and hair wash and Val trimmed her mane of shaggy brown hair, yet to Carol it still looked dry and without lustre.
‘You look grand,’ Val tried to reassure her, ‘a sight to gladden his eye.’
She insisted on giving Carol a soft jumper with sequins stitched on the shoulder that had
been salvaged from her failed shop. Val had finally had to close her business the previous month and was trying to sell the lease on the property, without success. ‘The jumper’s much too small for me,’ Val told her.
Carol was touched. Val must have so many worries of her own, but she managed to hide them behind her usual cheerful expression. ‘I’ll wear it for the Christmas party - if not every night in bed!’ Carol grinned.
‘You’ll not be needing extra jumpers in bed once your Mick’s home,’ Val teased her.
Carol blushed and looked away. What was it going to be like with Mick back once more? Part of her longed for his return, yet part of her dreaded it. They would be like strangers. And how would they be able to afford to feed him too?
She and Laura had got used to their quiet, close existence without him; a routine of calling round at the Welfare after school where it was warmer than home, then going to bed after tea and reading stories under the covers to Laura’s teddies and dolls. At weekends they would visit Lotty for Saturday tea and her parents on a Sunday afternoon.
Carol shuddered to think what Mick would say about her regular visits to Granville House. They were short visits and made for Laura’s sake, and the conversation never went beyond the trivial, but even Carol found herself looking forward to the teas where she could satisfy her craving for sweet cakes and biscuits as much as her daughter did. It was as if a truce had been declared between herself and her parents. She never mentioned Mick and they never mentioned the strike. She often thought how much better their relationship might have been if the strike had never taken place.
At times, watching her father playing patiently with Laura, she felt almost fondness towards him. Why had he never been able to accept her in the same easy, unjudgemental way? They had wasted too many painful years being at odds with one another.
And thinking of Mick now, Carol determined that she would try her utmost not to waste their future together. Lotty would collect Laura from school and they would be waiting for him with a special tea of mince and potatoes, apple crumble and custard. The mince had been a donation from the local butcher who supplied the Women’s Group with cheap meat and had heard that Mick was to be released. She would go with Charlie and Eddy to fetch him in Dimarco’s van.
Durham Trilogy 03. Never Stand Alone Page 34