‘But you’re my mammy,’ Raymond answered with a perplexed little frown. Louie and Sam exchanged wary glances, but said nothing more. However, later they found their appetites had deserted them when they unwrapped the fish they were sharing and the bags of chips. Raymond tucked enthusiastically into his, though, smearing his small mouth and fingers with delicious grease.
The Durham shops were festively bedecked with holly and baubles, and the cries of the busy market-stall traders mixed with a Salvation Army band bringing Christmas cheer to the passers-by. Even Louie could not help her spirits lifting with the anticipation and joyfulness she saw around her. Durham was looking like a scene from a Christmas card, with a sugar covering of snow on the noble town buildings.
They filed into the packed church hall where Barnfather’s company was performing Cinderella. Iris was playing Prince Charming, and Louie’s heart lurched to see how attractive her slim, vivacious sister-in-law appeared in her dashing costume. As the magic of the show took hold of its audience, Louie forgot for a time why they were there, giving herself up to the pleasure of the singing and the romantic story. Raymond screamed with delight at the Ugly Sisters, but grew bored at the singing and love story. He seesawed restlessly from Sam’s knee to Louie’s, and Louie felt a stirring of unease when Raymond did not appear to recognise his mother.
‘Watch Mammy now,’ Louie bade the child, but he just laughed as if she was teasing him.
Afterwards, with leaden hearts, his aunt and uncle took Raymond by the hand and led him backstage to see Iris. She came out of a tiny room, her face bizarrely accentuated by stage make-up. She was still in costume, though her auburn hair was freed from its wig and curling about her pretty face.
‘Raymond!’ she cried at the overawed boy and threw her arms around him. Raymond gave out a yelp of panic and struggled to loosen her hold on him.
‘Mammy,’ he blubbered and held out his arms to Louie. She was flustered with embarrassment.
‘Don’t be daft, give your mammy a kiss, Raymond,’ she instructed, but the boy howled the louder until Iris released him in indignation.
‘I’m sorry, Iris,’ Louie gabbled, ‘he’ll come round, he’s just not used to seeing you -’
‘It’s all right.’ Iris brushed her excuses aside. ‘Of course I seem like a stranger to him at the moment. He’ll get used to me soon.’
‘Aye,’ Sam nodded. ‘It was a canny show.’
‘Good,’ Iris put on a smile, ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’
‘So you’re getting plenty of work?’ Louie asked tensely, as Raymond held tightly on to her hand.
‘Yes.’ Iris brightened. ‘It’s hard work, and the pay’s up and down, but I love it.’
‘I’m glad you’re happy,’ Louie smiled back, more at ease. To break the awkwardness, Iris showed them around backstage and introduced them to the fast-talking Barny.
‘Pleased to meet you - you’re a nice kiddie.’ He bent and pinched Raymond’s cheek, which sent him behind Louie’s skirt again. ‘No harm meant. He’ll get used to me. He’ll have to!’ Barny grinned and disappeared.
‘What does he mean by that?’ Louie felt her heart begin to hammer nervously. ‘You’ll be moving on soon, won’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Iris began, fixing her sister-in-law with a determined look, ‘and I’ve decided to take Raymond with me. I’m earning enough to support us both and I want him back.’ She stretched out a hand and ruffled her son’s hair. ‘You’ve no idea how much Mammy’s missed you, pet.’
Louie’s body turned shivery-cold. ‘But you can’t!’ she cried.
‘Louie.’ Sam put a warning hand on her arm, which she shook off.
‘I mean, we - we haven’t brought all his things with us. I need more warning than this - to pack - it’s too sudden …’ Her voice dried up with fear.
‘We don’t work tomorrow,’ Iris continued resolutely. ‘I’ll get Barny to run me through to Whitton and fetch Raymond’s belongings. I’ll bring Raymond with me too,’ Iris smiled reassuringly, ‘so you can see him again before we go. That fair enough?’
‘Of course,’ Sam agreed for both of them. ‘He’s your bairn after all. We’ll say goodbye then and be off, won’t we, Louie?’ Louie could say nothing; she had lost all power of speech and movement. She just stared at Raymond, unable to comprehend that she was about to lose him forever.
Iris bent down and kissed her son’s head. ‘I’ve got so much planned for us to do,’ she promised him. ‘We’re going to have a grand time, me and you, see the world together.’
‘Well, ta-ta, Raymond.’ Sam tried to keep his voice even. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow. Let go his hand, Louie.’
Louie forced herself to disengage the boy’s limpet hold. She crouched down to his level and gave him a kiss. From somewhere her voice came. ‘You go to your mammy, she’s going to take care of you now. Auntie Louie will see you very soon.’
Raymond’s face crumpled in dismay at her words and he threw himself at her legs and clung on tightly. Iris reached out for him and seized his arms.
‘Come on, baby,’ she spoke coaxingly, ‘Mammy wants a big kiss and cuddle.’
‘No!’ Raymond howled in protest at the half-familiar woman dragging him from Louie. ‘Mammy! Mammy!’ he continued to scream as Louie backed away in distress.
‘Come on,’ Sam insisted grimly. ‘He’ll be fine once we’ve gone.’
Louie fought down the sob in her throat. ‘Tomorrow, Raymond, I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Just go!’ Iris ordered desperately. She had the boy in a grip while he kicked and struggled to be free, his horror at seeing Louie depart transparent on his thin face. He yelled for her again above Iris’s nervous placating voice. It was more than Louie could bear.
‘What did you expect,’ she accused miserably stopping in her tracks, ‘that he’d come running to you with open arms after the way you left him?’
‘Stop it,’ Sam hissed and pulled at his wife’s arm. ‘You’re making things worse.’
‘We’re the ones who’ve cared for him,’ Louie could not stop herself. ‘You can’t blame him for loving us.’
‘I’m his mother,’ Iris shouted in fury, her patience snapping. ‘You’ve turned him against me. I blame you for this, Louie!’
‘Out of here now.’ Sam seized Louie by the arm and pushed her down the corridor to the side entrance. Raymond’s screams and Iris’s efforts to control her son chased them from the hall.
For a full five minutes Louie buried herself in Sam’s arms and wept uncontrollably as the townsfolk of Durham hurried by in the crisp gloom of late afternoon. In spite of the curious looks from passers-by, Sam held his wife closely, patting her back and murmuring comforting words which she hardly heard. Eventually, grief gave way to a listless numbness and Louie wiped her swollen eyes and red nose.
‘We’ve over an hour before the next train,’ Sam said glumly.
‘I can’t look round the shops now,’ Louie sighed heavily, ‘not without …’
Sam hesitated and cleared his throat. ‘There is something else we could do,’ he began tentatively. Louie met his unsure look. ‘Call on Eb and Mrs Seward-Scott if you like?’
Suddenly the thought of seeing her quiet brother again seemed the only right action to take. Eb would understand how distraught she was at losing Raymond to Iris; Eb, who had been brave and compassionate enough to bury her baby Louisa, who had always been there to turn to when she was low. How had she not thought of the idea herself? Her parents need never know that they had called on him and ‘the Seward woman’, as they referred to Eleanor now. Yet she was plagued with doubt. It was nearly half a year since they had parted on bad terms and they had not seen each other since, in spite of Hilda’s attempts to get Louie to visit Eb when he worked at Greenbrae.
‘What if he doesn’t want to see us?’ Louie asked anxiously.
‘We won’t know unless we try,’ Sam said drily. Louie looked gratefully at her husband; she was astonished by his sensitivity.
He was prepared to swallow his pride and visit Eleanor just so that she could see Eb. Although she knew Sam could never see Eleanor as anything but a member of a despised privileged class, he did not understand Fanny and Jacob’s moral objections to Eb’s decision to be with her. In this instance, Louie knew, it had been her own pride and stubbornness that were at fault.
‘They live in the Bailey,’ Louie said, and, attempting a smile, linked her arm through Sam’s.
Lights shone out welcomingly from the narrow house and with the curtains drawn back, Louie could see a beautiful sitting room centred around a roaring fire. Her heart pounded fearfully as Bridget opened the door.
‘Is Mrs Seward-Scott at home?’ Louie asked meekly. ‘Or-er-Mr Kirkup?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ the young woman answered. ‘Please come in. Who should I say’s calling?’
‘Louie Ritson - Mr and Mrs Ritson,’ Louie stammered, impressed that the housekeeper showed no disdain at finding them on the doorstep in their shabby finery. She was obviously used to a wide variety of callers.
Eleanor quickly appeared and greeted them with hands outstretched, making no comment on Louie’s harrowed, blotchy face.
‘How wonderful to see you,’ she cried with pleasure. ‘Bridget, take their coats. You’ll stay for tea, won’t you?’
‘Thank you,’ Louie accepted, thinking how well the other woman looked. Her face, always as delicate as bone china, had filled out around the jaw line and her prominent cheeks glowed pink in the bright electric light. Her black hair, once severely shorn, had grown to cover her ears and gleamed with a soft sheen. She moved in a calm, relaxed way and Louie was gladdened to think Eb made her happy. They followed her into the cosy sitting room, and Louie was grateful to Eleanor for her lack of reproach or questions as to their sudden appearance.
‘Have you been doing your Christmas shopping?’ Eleanor asked. ‘I’m so glad you called, Eb talks about you such a lot.’ Louie met her considering gaze, but saw a look of encouragement, not criticism.
‘Is he here?’ Louie asked breathlessly.
‘Yes, he’s in his studio. I’ll take you up there now if you like. Sam and I can start tea without you.’
Louie nodded and Eleanor led the way up to a back room looking out over the darkened garden. A man in a casual green jumper was sitting at a sloping table, bent over some sketches, under the glare of an electric lamp.
Eleanor had closed the door on them before Eb looked round.
‘Louie?’ he questioned in amazement. ‘Louie!’
‘Eb,’ Louie replied, rooted to the floor as she stared at her brother. He had grown a red-tinged beard that was closely cropped and made his moustache look bushy. His clothes looked comfortable if scruffy, paint splashes daubed on his sleeves and trousers. It was the first time she had seen him out of his pit clothes or Sunday best and for an instant he appeared a stranger.
Seconds later, Eb leapt to his feet and strode across to meet her. He threw his arms around her shoulders and she felt herself returning the hug. They laughed embarrassedly, with tears in their eyes.
‘I’ve longed to see you,’ Louie confessed.
‘So have I.’ Eb steered her over to the table and pushed her into a chair. He sat down opposite. ‘I never wanted us to fall out, Louie. How are Mam and Da?’
‘Champion,’ Louie lied; she would not have him blame himself further for the torture her parents inflicted on themselves.
‘And you, Louie? How are you and Sam?’
‘We’re canny too. Sam’s downstairs waiting to see you.’ Louie tried to put on a brave face, staring hard at his pictures. ‘Your painting’s going well then? Hildy tells me you’ve sold some already. Are you happy living here?’ Louie genuinely wanted to know if Eb had made the right decision.
‘Very.’ Eb smiled back contentedly. ‘I love my work - and I love Eleanor. We plan to marry as soon as she’s free from Reginald. I hope you’ll come to the wedding.’
‘Maybes,’ Louie answered, knowing it was a gentle dig at the way he had been excluded from John’s marriage celebrations. She dragged her gaze back from the drawings to meet his. ‘Iris is back.’
Eb nodded seriously. ‘I know; she’s been to see us. She said she’d come for Raymond.’
Louie’s chin sank on to her chest and she burst into tears. At once Eb’s arms were about her again, comforting her.
‘She’s taking him away from me,’ Louie sobbed. ‘I can’t bear it.’
‘You must and you will,’ he encouraged. ‘You’re as strong as they come.’
‘But I love Raymond,’ Louie sobbed. ‘He’s become our son. I never thought I could love another bairn after - Louisa.’ She said the name softly. She knew she could speak her daughter’s name to Eb without fear of embarrassment.
‘I know, but he’s Iris’s son,’ Eb reminded her gently, ‘and she loves him too.’
‘Aye,’ Louie admitted unhappily, ‘I know she does.’
Eb continued to cradle his sister in his arms. ‘One day,’ he said tenderly, ‘you’ll have a family of your own, God willing.’
‘But it might never happen,’ Louie answered fearfully. ‘I might not be able -’
‘Eleanor thought the same until recently,’ Eb whispered into her hair. Louie drew back and regarded him quizzically. What was her brother trying to say?
‘Miss Eleanor?’ Louie breathed in sharply.
‘Yes, she’s going to have our child,’ Eb told her gently. ‘She thought she was barren, but God has been good to us.’
Louie was jolted at the news, and she felt a pang of envy. She stared into Eb’s tender, loving face and felt ashamed.
Hugging him back she whispered, ‘I’m happy for you. Oh, Eb, you’ll make a canny father, I’ve always thought it.’
‘Thank you, Louie.’ Eb smiled back gratefully. ‘I hoped you’d understand.’
Downstairs, Eleanor poured Sam a second cup of tea. The noise was like a waterfall in the edgy silence between them. The polite exchange of pleasantries had dried up several minutes ago.
Eleanor lit up a cigarette, then seemed to change her mind and quickly stubbed it out again. She knew Sam did not altogether trust her, ever since the time she had arranged for Reginald to see him. What had transpired at that meeting Eleanor would never know, but she suspected that her husband had tried to coerce or bribe this hard-faced pitman.
‘I know you’re not enjoying this, Sam,’ she decided to be direct, ‘but I do appreciate your bringing Louie to see her brother. It will mean a great deal to him.’
‘It was Louie’s decision,’ Sam answered stiffly.
‘But no doubt you had a hand in it,’ Eleanor murmured. They fell into silence again while Eleanor stood up and threw another log on the fire. Sam resisted the urge to help her stoke it up.
‘You’re still working at the Cathedral, I hear?’
‘Aye, how do you know that?’ Sam asked suspiciously.
Eleanor decided not to give Hilda as the source in case it got back to her parents that Hilda was visiting them. She ignored the question.
‘The travelling must be tedious for you. I wish I still had some influence at The Grange pits, but I’m afraid I don’t.’ She smiled ruefully.
‘I wouldn’t accept any favours if you did,’ Sam retorted quickly, and then flushed to think he had secured his present job because of his father’s friendship with the under-manager.
‘No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,’ Eleanor apologised, at once seeing how she antagonised him. She glanced at the door hoping Louie would reappear and release the tension in the room.
‘I think you’re doing a grand job with the clinic,’ Sam suddenly announced. Eleanor gawped at him in surprise. ‘Not that I know much about what goes on,’ he added bashfully, ‘but I’ve heard the women talking. They speak of you highly - the younger lasses at any rate.’
‘Thank you for saying so,’ Eleanor said delightedly. ‘It’s really been a pleasure getting to know some of the girls b
etter.’
Sam gave her a quizzical look. ‘Surprised to find we’re quite human?’ he could not resist saying.
Eleanor coloured, but held his dark-eyed gaze. ‘I’ve never doubted it,’ she answered quietly, ‘even if my family have at times treated you otherwise.’ Sam had no reply, so she went on, ‘I’ve been impressed by their cheerfulness and resilience after all they’ve put up with - continue to put up with.’
‘They’re Durham people,’ Sam stated proudly. ‘That’s the way we are.’
Eleanor was glad that the wall of suspicion was being chipped away between them; perhaps now Sam Ritson would open up to her and talk about things that mattered to him. This radical interested her and his reticence only tantalised; she was sure they had more in common than he would like to admit. Eleanor opened her mouth to speak when the sitting room door opened and Louie walked in, her arm linked through Eb’s. She saw with relief that both were smiling.
Christmas morning was a bittersweet experience for Louie and Sam. They watched Sadie tearing open her meagre presents with glee. There was a musical box, a second-hand book, a pencil and an orange. Louie wondered distractedly if Raymond was playing with his new toy soldiers or whether they were already discarded as he joined in the play with Iris’s brothers and sisters. The waiting for him to arrive was unbearable, yet she dreaded the time of his coming because it marked the final leave-taking.
Louie served up a special breakfast of bacon and eggs and then they trouped off to chapel for the Christmas service. John and Marjory were there and many of their neighbours. Louie prayed for a miracle.
Perhaps Iris would not come for Raymond’s possessions; perhaps she would leave with her actors and Sam and Louie would journey triumphantly into Durham to collect her precious nephew and bring him home. Then she chided herself for such selfish thoughts. Raymond was Iris’s son; he was all Iris had in the world. How could she begrudge her sister-in-law what was rightfully hers? On the way home, they called into Clara Dobson’s house for the traditional cake and ginger wine, and it was midday by the time they turned into Hawthorn Street.
Durham Trilogy 01. The Hungry Hills Page 47