Tomorrow Brings Sorrow

by Mary Wood

  ‘. . . and so, given this, Billy – your father – had no control over what this other half of him did. It took him over. And what we haven’t told you, dear, is that this other half: it – it murdered your granny.’

  ‘What?’

  Sarah registered the shock and pain in Harriet as if it were a knife sticking into her own gut. Rushing towards her child, she held her, stroking her and sobbing her own tears alongside Harriet’s. ‘I’m sorry, me little lass, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It – it’s not your fault, Mam. It must have been awful for you. Well, for all of you. I just feel strange, like I’ve suddenly become someone else.’

  ‘No, you haven’t. Harriet, you are my child.’ Richard had stepped forward and taken Harriet and now held her to him. ‘You’re not Billy’s, and never have been. I was with you from the very beginning. I talked to you whilst you were in your mother’s womb, and I loved you right from then. You are not changed by any of this.’

  ‘I am more you, aren’t I, Dad? That’s right, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is, my darling.’

  Sarah watched. She couldn’t speak. Harriet and Richard. Harriet and her father – for that’s what Richard was: her father.

  ‘You are me. Just as much as, if not more than, the boys are, because we have something even stronger than blood ties. We have a love that stretches all of your eighteen years and the bit before you made your appearance. That doesn’t change, does it? And look how the boys are not remotely interested in medicine, and yet you have a passion for it. That comes from me, and from my father.’

  They clung together to the exclusion of all else – even her, Sarah thought as she stood still, not interfering. But then at this moment she’d have it no different; they needed to cement their bond once more, to overcome what could have created a schism in their love for one another.

  After a moment Richard asked, ‘Harriet, do you think you can look on Patsy in the same way? Not as an intrusion into your world, but as an addition to it? I think if you can, and she’s as nice as your Aunt Hattie says, then knowing her and having her as your own will enrich your life.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that, Dad. I hadn’t thought of how she’ll add to my life, but she will, won’t she? A sister. Aye, as Mam would say, that’d be grand as owt.’

  Their laughter penetrated the shield that Sarah had thrown up around herself from the moment she’d heard of Patsy’s existence. It shook her pain and splintered it into tiny fragments that she found she could deal with. Her own laughter started as a smile, then spread through her body, and suddenly she could think on this Patsy not as a threat, but as someone they should welcome as Harriet’s sister, Bridget’s great-granddaughter, Megan’s granddaughter and Richard’s great-niece. And, as such, the lass must be a nice person. She couldn’t fail to be, with all that goodness flowing through her veins. And, she had to admit, after listening to Richard’s explanation of Billy’s illness, for the first time in a long while a little understanding of Billy entered her. It broke down the ball of hate that had clogged a part of her mind and heart, freeing her of the shackles of the past.

  When she went over to them both, it was as if they read all of this in her, as Richard said, ‘You’ll be all right now, Sarah. Everything will be all right.’ And Harriet squeezed her and said, ‘I understand now, Mam. I understand.’

  51

  Sarah

  Building a Family Unit

  ‘Eeh, look at them, Sarah! Who’d have thought?’

  Sarah glanced through the window to where Bridget was pointing. A nice feeling entered her. It had been a long time coming. Oh, she’d pretended, played her part and kept everyone around her happy, thinking she was all right with everything, but deep down she hadn’t been. Deep down the betrayal had sat in her, gnawing at her. But as she watched Harriet and Patsy sitting on the bench at the bottom end of the lawn, both laughing over a shared joke, something happened to nudge that knot of pain away.

  They were beautiful. The sun danced on their rich red hair, and their faces glowed with goodness and love. They were soulmates in the way sisters can be, and all despite the evil that had spawned them. In some small part of her, she’d held that evil against the girl who’d come to them out of the blue and sparked such a change in their lives.

  The change was not life-altering for them, but it had been dramatic and devastating for those over at Hensal Grange. You could say that all those involved in the tragic events triggered by lust, jealousy and hate over the years had been touched by the appearance of this girl and by the one phone call she had made.

  Now the Cromptons had left the area, without even knowing of Patsy’s existence. Not that she and Richard had instigated that. Everything to do with Patsy’s mother and her mother’s family was the girl’s own decision.

  Louise Crompton had fled to her mother’s after her husband’s death. Theresa still lived in London; she’d suffered a nervous breakdown, and now lived the life of a near-recluse, according to a doctor friend of Richard who knew her well. And Lady Crompton had moved back to York, where she had brought her family from when she’d inherited Hensal Grange from her sister, Laura Crompton. The house had been sold, and the new owners had come full circle. They had once owned Hensal Grange Mine and had bought it from the Cromptons, but had now sold it on to the National Coal Board. They were millionaires and used Hensal Grange more as a ‘country pile’, as those who worked up at the Grange referred to it. ‘Live in London, they do. Travel the world half the time. Eeh, they don’t know as they’re born,’ they’d say.

  Well, she was glad of that. That place, and the folk who had owned it and lived there over the years, had had a big hand in the events that had affected all of those she loved. From her Granna Issy, to Aunt Megan, to her dad – all had suffered through the actions of the Harveys and the Cromptons. Now they had one of them in their midst. For at the end of the day, Patsy was one of them.

  Sarah watched Dorothy walk over to the girls. Funny thing, war. On the one hand it could devastate, and on the other it could bring people into your life to enrich it. Dorothy was one of the latter. What she’d done for Sarah’s dad had been nothing short of a miracle. Aye, and she’d helped where Patsy was concerned as well. She’d accepted the girl from the off and had helped her to settle. In the first few weeks after Patsy came into their lives, Dorothy had taken her in at the farm, and that had been the arrangement for a while, just to give the girls time to get to know each other and to come to accept each other. Dorothy was what you’d term ‘a quiet influence’. Different to Hattie. Hattie was up front, moved heaven and earth for you if you needed it, and made changes for the better in everyone’s lives, whilst Dorothy worked at a slower pace and in a manner so that you didn’t realize she was doing anything.

  Hattie, Arthur and her dad walked over to the little group, and the six of them looked comfortable together, talking and laughing like they’d known one another all of their lives. Jack put his arm around Dorothy. He was a wonderful man, her dad. Capable of giving complete love, and of being loved. But something in him was afraid, Sarah knew that. That love had been snatched away from him so many times, by death and through the violent acts of war and murder. She tried to picture what it would be like if none of it had happened.

  She turned her head. She hadn’t noticed that Bridget had left her. On the dresser, amongst all the family photos, was a brown, faded one of her mam. Eeh, Mam, you were beautiful, and you too, Aunt Megan. Reaching out, she moved the photos of them, taken when they were young girls, and stood them side-by-side. And now another generation of young women have found each other. My Harriet, yours and Megan’s grandchild, Mam – and Patsy, Megan’s granddaughter. How the world turns around, eh?

  It seemed to her that her mam’s smile widened, and into the air around her came a tinkling laugh. It was joined by a cackle, and then a giggle. Eeh, Mam, you’re with Megan and Granna Issy, and all three of you are here with us, I can tell that.

  A tear droppe
d onto her cheek, and through the haze of those that would follow, Sarah saw Bridget walk across the lawn. The others turned to greet her, but Patsy went towards her and hugged her. What must it feel like to grow up without anyone in the world belonging to you, and then to find you had someone like Bridget as your great-grandmother? Lass must feel as though she’d come to heaven.

  Mark held Sally’s arm as they joined the group. What a brave soul he was. And how Sally cocooned him in love and tender care. It warmed your heart to see them.

  Music penetrated her thoughts: thumping drums and electric guitars. The teenagers – her own, and Mark and Sally’s, who all thought they were the next rock ’n’ roll sensation – were practising with their instruments in the garage. ‘We’re going to give you a concert later on,’ Ian, her eldest son, had said earlier. Eeh, she wasn’t looking forward to that!

  A hand appeared on her shoulder. A loving hand with a gentle touch. A touch made for healing. Not just healing of the ailments of those in his surgery, but healing of her. Aye, and the loving of her. She turned and looked up into Richard’s concerned face. ‘Well, love, we have to let them go, don’t we?’

  ‘We do, darling. But it isn’t an end – it is a beginning. Our girls,’ he always referred to Harriet and Patsy as ‘our girls’, and had done from the moment Harriet had accepted Patsy as her sister, ‘they’re off into the big wide world of university. You know, I still can’t believe they want to both take up medicine. Isn’t that strange? Neither came from that background.’

  ‘Well, Harriet was influenced by you, and I expect Patsy by a need to stay close to Harriet. How they both got into the same college, though, is nothing short of a miracle.’

  ‘And a little nepotism. After all, both Father and I went there.’

  ‘Aye, I suppose so.’

  ‘So, no more tears. Let’s go and join in the fun. This is a party. We’re launching our girls into their new lives. They are taking the next step. Do you think you can do that too, darling?’

  He knew; he knew some part of her had held back. Sometimes it was as if Richard was on the inside of her. There was nothing he didn’t know about her or what went on in her head.

  ‘Aye, I can. And not just in me head – forcing meself, so as to please others – but in me heart. I think at last I can open up me heart, to let Patsy into it and take her on as you have done. I’m sorry as it took me a while.’

  ‘No, don’t be. She understood. We talked about it, you know. She has a capacity to give a great deal of understanding to things. It’s my guess she’ll go into psychiatry.’

  ‘Eeh, Richard, you and your medical world, it comes into everything. But I hope you’re right. It will give her some answers.’

  ‘And what about you? Have you found your answers?’

  ‘I think so, love. I think so.’

  His arms tightened around her and drew her to him. Encased in his love, she didn’t need answers; she had all she needed to help her go forward. It was time she helped Patsy to have that, too.

  Richard steered her outside. The girls were busy passing around sandwiches and seeing to drinks. Patsy brought a tray over to them. ‘Champagne, but no caviar, I’m afraid, just cucumber sandwiches. Ha, if they could see me now!’ Her face glowed. ‘Help yourself, Richard, and what about you, Sa—’

  ‘Mam. Call me “Mam”. Because that’s what I’d like to be, lass. You’re a sister to me daughter, and I’d like you to be a daughter to me an’ all.’

  Richard took the tray from Patsy before she dropped it, as her jaw had dropped. A silence had fallen around them. Then Sarah’s arms were filled with a bundle of joy. A nice feeling. She wasn’t holding a product of evil; she was holding a lovely young woman. A daughter.

  The clapping started somewhere in the distance, or so it seemed, but built into a loud cheer. Richard, his eyes glistening, put down the tray and came and held them both. ‘And I’m “Dad” from now on, right?’

  ‘Yes, oh yes – me own mam and dad. Me world’s complete.’

  ‘Eeh, Sarah, lass. That were a lovely thing as you did. It’s grand to have Patsy as one of us, and now she really is.’

  ‘I know, Aunt Hattie. I’m sorry I just wasn’t able to give all of meself at first.’

  Dorothy answered before Hattie had a chance to. ‘No, you mustn’t be sorry. Everyone understood.’

  ‘You knew then, Dorothy?’

  ‘I did – we all did. We talked about it, but decided you just needed time, and we were right.’

  ‘You too, Bridget?’

  ‘Aye, I knew an’ all, Sarah, lass.’

  Sally moved to Sarah’s side and took hold of her hand and squeezed it. She understood more than most, as they’d talked through how difficult it was to accept and forgive those who’d sinned against you. It was good to have Sally living so close. They understood each other, knew what the other was feeling, without being told.

  Looking around at these four women, three of whom had been with her for almost as long as she could remember, and one brought to her by the war, Sarah realized how lucky she was. Some that she’d loved to her very core – her mam, her Aunt Megan and her Granna Issy – had been taken from her, but she was still surrounded by strong women, and strong love.

  ‘Eeh, Sarah, that were enough to set me off. I couldn’t talk for a mo. I’m glad as you’re all right, love.’

  ‘I am, Sally. I’ve never been more all right in me whole life. How could I not be, with having you all to protect me and bring me through?’

  Aunt Hattie’s arm came around her. ‘Aye, we’ve always been about strength and standing together. We had to be. And it weren’t just because we came from poor backgrounds; it were because we are women. It were how we got through, but, thou knows, times are changing. Look at lassies over there. Who’d have thought as them, coming from us who were at times considered the lowest of the low, could even think of going to university, let alone getting places there? Oh, I know as our fortunes have changed. We’ve made them do so, but still, it wouldn’t have been heard of in my day.’

  ‘You’re right, Aunt Hattie.’

  Bridget shook her head. ‘Aye, you are, but I doubt as women’s struggles are over. There’s still a long way to go. Lassies are still having their babies taken off them if they fall pregnant out of wedlock, and men still say there’s no such thing as rape. A clout round the ear to keep the missus in check is acceptable, and women can’t do anything without their husband’s permission.’

  They were all quiet as they took this in. Sally spoke first. ‘Well, let’s hope things change soon. It will only take some strong young women to get together, like that Mrs Pankhurst and her suffragettes did. Maybe one of ours even?’

  They all looked over to Harriet and Patsy. And Sarah thought: Aye, they are the women of the future. And without giving her mind to the horror that had gone before, she hoped with all her heart that things would change for women. Let them lassies know a different world. And she knew they were already putting a foot on the ladder towards that.

  But then again, Patsy still had stuff to deal with. And in my experience, and that of these around me, no one could just put sommat like that away from them. After all, even though I’ve given meself as a mam to the girl, Patsy has a real mam out there somewhere. A woman as is a mystery to us all, but she exists. Will it become a burning desire in Patsy to find her one day?

  ‘I know what you’re thinking, lass. And if Patsy wants to seek out Theresa in the future, she must do so. We can only hope she doesn’t get hurt. But it’s true what they say: we can’t predict the future; we can only learn from the past, and I think we’ve all done that.’

  ‘We have, Aunt Hattie, we have. But, thou knows, there’s always another day and there’s always hope. Tomorrow doesn’t have to bring sorrow.’

  Footnote

  * Winston Churchill, 13 May 1940.

  Author’s Note

  Tomorrow Brings Sorrow, though a stand-alone book, is the third in the Breckton series,
which consists of: To Catch a Dream, An Unbreakable Bond, Tomorrow Brings Sorrow and Time Passes Time.

  The use of the term ‘Mongol’

  In order to retain the authenticity of the dialect from the era in which the characters in the book lived, I used the term ‘Mongol’ to describe a Down’s syndrome child. This term is now considered inappropriate, and of course I agree that it no longer is. However, the cause of a child being born with Down’s syndrome wasn’t then known and the medical profession termed such children as being Mongoloid, as they were thought to resemble Mongolians. Lay people picked up on the term and shortened it to Mongol. It was rarely used then as a derogatory address.

  Then, as today, the loving nature of Down’s syndrome children assured that they were accepted and loved. But, as today, there were the bigoted, ignorant and discriminatory people who did call names and make anyone who was in the minority feel less of a person.

  By showing how things were in the days of this story and in the interests of authenticity, I have no intention of offending, and only wish to accurately reflect how my characters would have spoken.

  Research

  The research for this epic story of two sets of families – the rich and powerful Harvey and Crompton families, and the working-class Armitage and Fellam families – has centred around the coal-mining industry, workhouse life, the deep recession of the 1920s, stud farming and land management, the running of a country mansion, the ins and outs of being apprentice seamstresses and the running of a dressmaking business, culminating in this novel in how lives changed during the Second World War, with young people becoming Land Girls, special agents, pilots and naval officers.