She gave the cheque to Joanne who was amazed and thrilled with the amount. But Carol did not stay to take the praise. She went home and changed her clothes and scrubbed her face and hands and teeth in icy cold water. She was thankful that Mick was out and she did not have to explain. He would be walking the cliffs and coastal paths on his own. It was as if he could not bear to be confined indoors since his three months in prison. Both Eddy and Sid had rallied round and tried to take Mick fishing, or for a rare half pint or a game of pool, but he made excuses not to go, preferring his own company and the stormy seascape.
Later, forcing herself to think no more about Vic’s predatory kiss or his smirking insinuations about Pete Fletcher, Carol went back to the Welfare Hall to help.
The week before Christmas, Carol got a call from Laura’s head teacher asking her and Mick to come and see her at school. ‘Do you need me there?’ Mick asked, growing agitated. He paced the room restlessly.
Carol lost her temper. ‘Aye, I do need you there! You’re the bairn’s father, Mick. Or have you forgotten?’
‘Of course not,’ he snapped.
‘Well, I sometimes wonder,’ Carol cried. ‘You disappear all day, you do nothing with her at weekends, and you don’t even pick her up from school. I have to do that when I’ve got a hundred other things to be doing. And where are you? Roaming round the countryside like bloody Heathcliffe or summat. I don’t know where you go or what you do. I just know you’re not here for Laura - or me!’
They faced each other, Carol trembling from her outburst. She had kept the resentment bottled up for so long, but now it was out. Mick’s look was harrowed. It made her want to take back her angry words, yet she would not apologise. It was like having a lodger in the house, not a husband, and it was time he knew how she felt.
Mick struggled to say something. Eventually he simply nodded and muttered, ‘I’ll come.’
They walked up to the school in the early afternoon in tense silence. Carol noticed how people glanced round at them in surprise at seeing them out together. Even others have noticed our estrangement, she thought unhappily. She wondered what Mrs Little wanted to say to them. Maybe she was worried about the state of Laura’s clothes or was going to offer free school dinners at last. Carol glanced around the playground to see if she could spot her daughter, but it was too crowded.
Mrs Little was a smartly dressed woman with short, greying hair and a brisk, kind smile. Carol had never talked to her for more than two minutes before. Mrs Little sat them down in her office.
‘Is anything wrong?’ Carol asked, seeing that Mick was going to remain silent.
Mrs Little did not answer directly. ‘How are things at home, Mrs Todd?’
Carol was going to shrug off the question, then decided to be truthful. ‘Difficult. We’re only just managing. Some weeks we don’t.’ She avoided Mick’s look.
The head teacher nodded in sympathy. ‘I see that among so many of the families here.’ There was a pause. ‘Has Laura been ill recently?’
Carol looked nonplussed. ‘Ill? Well, she seems to have a permanent cold - her nose is always running. And she’s had a couple of mild attacks of asthma, but I think that’s because of the old paraffin heater Mick’s parents have lent us. We have it on when she’s back from school, but she doesn’t like the fumes. Trouble is, if you open the windows then the house is freezing again.’ Carol stopped, realising she was gabbling.
But Mrs Little just nodded in understanding. ‘So nothing that would keep her off school for several days at a time?’
‘No, of course not. She loves school, she doesn’t like to miss it,’ Carol insisted.
‘That’s what I thought.’ Mrs Little smiled kindly. She leaned forward in her chair and spoke gently. ‘This term we’ve had a big problem with truanting. The children are very unsettled by what is going on - they show it in different ways. I’m afraid Laura has been absent from school three times now in the past two weeks, yet I’ve had no note from you.’
Carol was stunned. ‘But I bring her to school myself.’
Suddenly Mick was vocal. ‘The bairn’s only five! She can’t be skiving off school!’
‘I know, it’s a shock,’ Mrs Little said. ‘Does she come to school with anyone else on some days?’
Carol flushed. ‘Well, there have been a few times recently when she’s gone up with the Dillon children - when I’ve had to leave the house early.’ She gulped. ‘The oldest lad, Rob, sees them into school before he goes on to the comp.’
‘It seems he must have been taking them off somewhere else instead,’ Mrs Little said glumly. ‘Louise Dillon has been truanting as well, as far as we can make out.’
Carol and Mick looked at each other in disbelief. Carol thought he was going to blame her for failing to see Laura safely into school. But he had washed his hands of all responsibility towards their daughter since his return from prison and she would tell him so.
Mick was angry. ‘We’ll have it out with her as soon as we get her home.’
‘Please, don’t be too hard on her,’ Mrs Little cautioned. ‘There’s bound to be a reason. I thought we could call her in now and have a quiet chat together.’
Carol heard the warning in her voice. ‘Yes, we’d like to see her now, wouldn’t we, Mick?’
Mick gave her a stormy look. Mrs Little went out to fetch Laura from her classroom.
‘Don’t go losing your temper with her,’ Carol hissed.
‘A truant at five!’ Mick muttered. ‘What’s our family coming to?’
‘Aye,’ Carol snapped back. ‘Just ask yourself the same question!’
Laura came in cautiously behind her head teacher, clutching her hand. Carol thought she looked terrified and wanted to reach out and hug her, but was inhibited by the formal surroundings. Laura did not attempt to go to either of them, preferring to sit on Mrs Little’s knee and answer her questions in a mouse-like voice.
‘You know you should have been in school, Laura?’
The girl nodded.
‘Your parents thought you were here,’ Mrs Little said gently. ‘It’s not fair to make them worry, is it?’
‘No,’ Laura whispered.
Mick blurted out, ‘So where the hell have you been, Laura? Where’s Rob been taking you?’
Laura cringed at his anger, burying her face in her hands. Mrs Little held on to her tightly.
Carol leaned forward and touched Laura. ‘Tell us, pet. We’re not going to be angry.’
‘Well, I am,’ Mick shouted. ‘My lass isn’t going to nick off school at her age and get away with it. She should be told what’s right and wrong.’ He glared at the teacher and at Carol.
Mrs Little ignored his outburst. Gently but firmly she pulled Laura’s hands away from her face.
‘I’ll not let anyone hurt you,’ she promised.
Carol felt her heart jerk at the reproof. She could not bear the look of misery on Laura’s face. Crouching on her knees in front of her, she urged, ‘We’d never hurt you. Tell us why you haven’t been to school. Tell Mammy.’
Laura looked at her, her face tear-stained. ‘It was Rob said we should d-do it,’ she whispered.
‘Do what?’ Carol asked, holding her hand.
‘Go up the woods, round Brassy church. He said we should. But not to tell.’
Carol exchanged anxious looks with the head teacher. She dared not look at Mick’s furious face.
‘Rob’s been taking you into Brassy woods?’ Carol echoed.
Laura nodded.
‘Why, pet?’
They held their breath.
‘It’s secret.’
‘Mammy can keep your secret,’ Carol whispered.
‘We’ve been getting it from there. Rob’s got a barrow. He takes it and hides it in his dad’s shed.’
‘Takes what?’ Carol asked in confusion.
‘The sticks and everything. We find them and put them in his barrow. He’s going to share it out. Says he’ll bring some round to our house whe
n it’s dark so the pigs don’t see.’
Carol was dumbfounded. ‘You mean you’ve been collecting firewood instead of going to school?’
Laura nodded. Then her face crumpled and the tears streamed down her peaky face. ‘I’m sorry, Mam! I thought it would make Daddy happy. He doesn’t like sitting at home with us ‘cos there’s no fire. I did it for D-Daddy!’ she sobbed.
Carol looked across at Mick. His face was appalled. He was staring at his daughter as if for the first time, yet she would not look at him.
Mick slipped off his chair and went to hold her. Mrs Little let go.
‘Oh, pet!’ he cried. ‘Don’t be sorry. It’s your dad who’s sorry . . .’
Carol saw the tears spring into his eyes as Laura’s skinny arms went round his neck. They clung to each other in a fierce hug and cried. Carol’s vision blurred as she looked up gratefully to Mrs Little. What a terrible burden for a small girl to carry! How had they not seen how unhappy they were making her with their lack of love towards each other? How frightened and desperate she must have been to miss school in order to try and please them with the firewood!
Mrs Little got up quietly. ‘I’ll go and make a cup of tea for us all.’ Then she left them alone to weep and hug one another in reconciliation. Carol could hear young voices beyond the door, practising carols for the end of term service.
Mick looked at her. ‘I’m sorry, Carol. I’ve left you to cope on your own for too long. I’m going to help you now, I promise.’
Carol smiled through her tears and gave him a kiss.
Then for the first time in days, she saw Laura’s anxious face break into a beautiful smile.
For the last week of term, Mick took Laura to school and picked her up. As the preparations for the Christmas socials grew more frantic, he came to the Welfare to help out. He and Charlie went with Paul Dimarco to the cash and carry to buy bulk amounts of food to keep the village going through the holiday period. The soup kitchen would close after Christmas Eve until the New Year and they had to make sure the striking families would have enough to tide them over.
Carol and the committee spent long hours compiling lists of family numbers and ages and pinned them to a street map of the area. They asked the parents who came to the hall to write down requests from the children as to what they most wanted for Christmas.
‘We can’t promise they’ll get it,’ Carol told them, ‘but we’ll do our best.’
Laura still had her heart set on a puppy, but said some clothes for her teddies would do instead.
Carol and the other women stayed late into the night, sorting out parcels of clothing and presents. There were so many in need and yet so little of any value to go round. Some evenings Lotty would bring them in a bottle of cheap wine and they would sit around drinking out of tea cups, sharing each other’s worries and making one another laugh.
When she got home Mick would be waiting up for her instead of being already asleep and would ask how preparations were going. He seemed reluctant to let Laura out of his sight since the revelation about her truanting and was content to stay at home while she worked at the hall.
The day before Christmas Eve, Charlie and Mick came rushing into the Welfare kitchen, waving their arms in excitement.
‘We’ve got a message to go down the docks,’ Charlie shouted. ‘A call’s just come through. There’s a container of stuff come from France!’
They waited all day for the men to come back from the port. As dark descended, there were shouts of concern as a hearse drew up in front of the hall, until May shouted, ‘You bugger, it’s Eddy driving!’
He had borrowed it from the funeral director who drank at The Ship and it was full of boxes. Behind, Charlie drove up in Dimarco’s van. They all rushed out laughing to help unload. When they began to unpack the boxes of gifts from French trade unionists, the women were rendered speechless. They gasped at the generosity of their friends abroad. There were brand new toys of all descriptions - bikes and scooters, dolls and roller skates, games and footballs, clothes and books. There were hundreds of pounds worth of toys.
‘That’s not the end of it,’ Charlie told them, almost overcome. There’s another van load to collect.’
‘Hearse load, you mean,’ Eddy grinned.
Carol felt her throat tighten at the thought of their kindness. She had felt they were battling alone so many times recently and morale had been badly damaged by the trickle of pitmen back to work. At times she had questioned if they were right to carry on when there was so much suffering in the village and in countless other villages across the coalfield. But these generous workers in France thought they were right. They had not given up on them as some at home had done. They were not alone.
Carol went over to Charlie and gave him a hug, unable to speak for emotion. For once he could not reply, only patted her back.
‘Haway, then,’ said Lotty briskly, ‘get yourself back for the rest of the stuff. We’ve got some parcelling up to do.’
For two days they kept the children out of the hall while they sorted out presents and decorated the canteen for the party. Mick and Sid scaled ladders tying streamers and balloons, while Charlie and Stan Savage wrestled with the boiler that was threatening to pack up. Eddy had volunteered to dress up as a clown and entertain the children, while Captain Lenin was to make an appearance as Santa. Mick and Sid had gone over to Quarryhill and persuaded an old marra of theirs to bring his disco equipment for the evening party. He had agreed to do it in return for a few free pints. A London support group had sent up money to buy in some kegs of beer and bottles of wine so that everyone would have a free drink this Christmas.
In the evening, Mick helped Carol take some of the French presents around to families after children were in bed and they were rewarded with smiles and tears from fraught parents wondering how they were going to get through Christmas Day with nothing to give their children.
By the time Laura was getting dressed for the party, Carol was as excited as she was. Normally they would have bought their daughter a new dress for the season, but Carol had lengthened the one from last year. It looked tight round the armpits and Carol thought Laura was going to protest, until Mick came in.
‘What a little princess!’ he exclaimed, lifting her up and swinging her round.
‘Don’t crumple me!’ Laura complained and then giggled suddenly as he pretended to drop her.
Carol came back wearing the soft sequinned jumper of Val’s and a shortish black skirt. She had dashed on some eye-liner and lipstick and pulled a brush through her hair, without any more time to spend getting ready. But Mick whistled in appreciation for the first time in an age and made her blush.
‘I like your jumper, Mam,’ Laura said with approval. ‘Isn’t Mam pretty for her age?’
Carol and Mick laughed.
‘Very,’ Mick agreed, grinning.
‘I’m only twenty-six, you cheeky pair!’ Carol retorted. Yet how much older she felt at times.
She bustled Laura out of the house and told Mick to hurry and change and meet them down at the hall, but she went with a lighter step to think that Mick was more like his old self.
The children’s party was a huge success judging by the level of noise and laughter. Eddy had them screaming with giggles when his tricks went wrong and Carol was not sure if he deliberately messed them up or was just a hopeless magician. The women supervised the teas and she and Sid organised the games, while Kelly stuffed herself full of leftover jelly and ice cream. The pregnancy was showing, but Sid had broadcast this to the world long before. As far as Carol could see, they had settled into a truce, though she’d been too busy of late to discover how Kelly was feeling about her decision to stay with Sid.
Finally Captain Lenin rolled in with his white beard and booming chuckle, wearing an enormous Santa suit and carrying a sack of small gifts. Some of the younger children ran screaming to their parents, but were soon coaxed back with the promise of something from the sack.
By seven
o’clock the hall was emptying of tired party-goers and the committee began to clear the hall for the adult disco. Carol was nearly asleep on her feet and would have liked nothing better than to slink off home with Laura and put her to bed instead of Lotty. She wondered where Mick could have got to and was vexed he had not turned up to help with the party.
When they had finished resetting the tables, Carol slipped out for a cigarette and went home to say goodnight to Laura. There was no sign of Mick at home and Carol wondered if he had gone off to the pub with Eddy after the party.
Lotty confirmed this. ‘Said he wanted to see the Captain about something.’
Carol sighed in annoyance. ‘I hope he’s not going to get stuck there all evening with Eddy and not turn up at our disco.’
‘He won’t.’ Lotty seemed sure. ‘You get yourself back to the hall and have a drink.’
But Laura was too excited and would not go to bed. She knew that she would not be getting as many presents as usual, but thanks to donations from abroad, Carol was able to promise that Santa would come. Just then the front doorbell rang.
It was Eddy. He put a finger to his lips and whispered, ‘Go and open the curtains in Laura’s bedroom.’ Then he swept into the sitting room, shouting for Laura.
‘I’ve just come to say goodnight to me favourite girl,’ he called, his craggy face grinning.
‘Uncle Eddy,’ Laura said, jumping up and down on the settee, ‘do you think Santa will come tonight?’
‘Only if you get to bed now like a good lass,’ Eddy bargained. ‘I’ll give you a carry upstairs.’
He gave Laura a piggy-back and dumped her down on her bed. Carol was standing at the window peering down into the back lane.
‘Laura, come here quickly,’ she whispered, ‘but don’t make a sound.’
The girl scampered over to the window and gasped. There in the lane below was Santa carrying a sack on his back, his white beard gleaming in the soft street lights. In the wondering silence that followed, they could hear his boots clearly tramping down the lane.
Laura’s eyes were wide in awe. ‘Is that the real Santa?’
Durham Trilogy 03. Never Stand Alone Page 36