Because today was the day she would see Rob Chadwick again.
‘Sorry Carrie, but he is Archie’s cousin,’ Nancy had said when she had broken the news to Carrie the week before. ‘It would be strange not to invite him when the rest of the family is coming.’ She paused and then said hopefully, ‘But you know what Rob’s like. He probably won’t even turn up.’
He certainly hadn’t bothered much with his relatives in Bowden over the past three years. The only time he had returned to the village was when he paid a surprise visit to the Miners’ Gala a year after he’d left. By then Carrie had been engaged to James but still nursing her newly patched-up heart, and Rob’s visit had caught her completely unawares. This time she wanted to be prepared for him. More than anything, she desperately wanted to walk in to the wedding on her husband’s arm, defiant and proud with her head held high.
But now James was not coming, she could feel her confidence sinking.
‘Perhaps I shouldn’t go either,’ she said.
‘Of course you must go, you’re matron of honour,’ James said. ‘You can’t let your friend down. Besides, you’ve been looking forward to it.’
‘I know, but—’
‘Carrie, you must go.’ James rested his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her lovingly. ‘I’m only sorry I can’t come with you. But you do understand why, don’t you?’
‘Of course.’ She pressed her hand over his, smiling at his reflection. Poor James. He looked so tired.
‘Are you going to work today?’ she asked, and saw the brief look of pain that flitted across his face before he shook his head.
‘I shouldn’t think there’ll be any trouble at the pit, with everyone at this wedding.’ He paused, then added, ‘Actually, I thought I might stay at home and look after Henry.’
‘There’s no need for that,’ Carrie said. ‘I can leave him with my mother. She’s stopping at home since Father’s taken poorly, so she won’t be going to the wedding.’
‘Please, Carrie, I’d like to look after him. He is my son, after all. And I’ve been like a stranger to him lately.’
Carrie looked at James in the mirror. She couldn’t think of another man who would willingly look after his children while his wife went off to a wedding. Even her own father, much as he loved his daughters, regarded looking after bairns as ‘women’s work’.
But James was different. He was special, like no other men she had ever met.
She smiled at her husband. ‘I’m sure he’d like that very much.’
The sun had come out for Nancy’s wedding. Even Bowden Main looked beautiful, basking in the warm June sunshine.
Inside the doors of the tiny, crowded chapel, Nancy was fretting. ‘Do I look all right? What about my hair? And my dress? Oh, I wish I wasn’t so nervous!’ She picked at a wilted petal on the posy she gripped in her fist. Her pretty face was pale under her rouged cheeks.
‘You look beautiful,’ Carrie reassured her.
‘Do I? Are you sure?’ Nancy reached out and grasped her hand. ‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you.’
They both glanced towards Iris, who was looking sour and fiddling with the sash of her dress. She had spent more time fussing with her own appearance than helping calm Nancy’s raging nerves.
‘I’m glad to be here.’ Carrie squeezed Nancy’s hand in return, but all the time her own heart was fluttering against her ribs.
Somewhere in that tiny chapel, Rob Chadwick would be waiting.
She tried to look for him from the corner of her eye as they made their way down the aisle. She could see her three sisters, Eliza, Hattie and Gertie, sitting in a row. But there was no sign of Rob.
Perhaps he had decided not to come after all? Carrie knew she should feel relieved, but after a week of working herself up into a state of worry, she could only feel deflated. As the ceremony went on, she held herself rigid, expecting at any moment to hear the chapel door creak open behind her. But still Rob did not come.
There was no sign of him at the Welfare Institute afterwards, either, and Carrie began to relax.
The long trestle table in the centre of the large function room groaned with food – sandwiches, sausage rolls, cakes and an enormous pie in the centre of it all.
‘I heard Nancy’s mother had to pawn her wedding ring to pay for it,’ Eliza said.
‘And her brother went poaching on the Haverstocks’ land to catch a rabbit for that pie,’ Hattie put in.
Carrie stared at them. ‘Nancy never said?’
‘No, well, they wouldn’t,’ Eliza replied. ‘No one tells you anything.’ She sighed. ‘Poor Nancy. It’s nothing like your wedding, is it, Carrie?’
‘I’ll say,’ Hattie put in proudly. ‘We had a proper shop-bought cake.’
‘You shouldn’t say that. My wedding was – different, that’s all,’ Carrie mumbled. But she was suddenly aware that neither of her sisters was listening to her. They were both staring over her shoulder towards the door, their expressions aghast.
Carrie didn’t need to turn around to know who had just walked in. She felt his presence as a cold prickle up the back of her neck.
‘What’s Rob Chadwick doing here?’ Eliza hissed.
‘He was invited. He’s Archie’s cousin, remember?’ Carrie did her best to sound casual, even though all the muscles in her shoulders were rigid.
‘He’s got a nerve, showing his face.’ Eliza’s glance was worried. ‘Are you all right, Carrie?’
‘Of course. Why shouldn’t I be?’ She forced a smile.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll stay with you all night,’ Hattie promised, linking her arm through Carrie’s.
‘That’s right,’ Eliza said. ‘We won’t leave your side. And he’d better not dare speak a word to you, or he’ll have us to answer to!’ she added, her face screwed up in a fierce scowl.
But by the time everyone had finished eating, the chairs were pulled back around the edge of the room and Nancy’s uncle struck up on his accordion, her sisters forgot their promise. Gertie went off to gossip with her friends, and Eliza and Hattie were quickly claimed by a couple of local lads.
So much for not leaving my side, Carrie thought as she watched them spinning around the dance floor in the boys’ arms, laughing. But she couldn’t blame them for wanting to have a good time. Once upon a time she would have been joining in, dancing with the rest of them.
But now, she was too conscious of Rob Chadwick on the other side of the room to move. Typical Rob, to turn up and catch her unawares again, just as she had started to let her defences down.
She tried not to look at him, but he drew her gaze, like a flower turning towards the sun. Even when they were courting, she often found herself staring at him, drinking in his good looks. He was easily the most handsome lad in the village, with his burnished gold hair and his laughing hazel eyes.
But while she couldn’t stop stealing glances at him, he barely seemed to be aware of her as he stood on the far side of the room, laughing and joking with his friends.
It was just as well, Carrie thought. The less she had to do with him, the better. But that didn’t stop a little worm of disappointment burrowing into her heart.
She looked around the room. And to think, once upon a time, she had expected they would end up like this, celebrating their wedding in the Welfare Institute with their friends and family …
‘What’s this I hear about your husband bringing in scab labour?’
Carrie turned around, startled at the sound of the voice behind her. Nancy’s uncle stood there, his arms folded across his burly chest.
She could see straight away he was drunk. He swayed on his feet like a tree in the wind.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said.
The man sneered, his face mottled red with drink and anger. ‘You would say that, wouldn’t you? I heard he’s sent word out asking for men willing to work down t’pit in our place.’
‘Tom Chadwick’s seen a copy of the letter that’s gone out to Durham and Nottingham, and even as far up as Scotland. Begging ’em to come and take our jobs! And he reckons it had your husband’s name on it.’
Carrie stared at him, trying to take in what she was hearing. James always refused to discuss pit business with her, but she couldn’t imagine him doing such a thing willingly. ‘Then the Haverstocks must have forced him to do it,’ she said.
She tried to turn away from him but Mr Morris grabbed her arm, swinging her back round to face him. ‘That’d be right,’ he sneered. ‘Sir Edward’s bloody lapdog, that’s all he is.’
Carrie knew she should walk away, but anger bristled inside her. ‘You leave my husband alone!’
‘I’ll say what I like!’ Flecks of spittle flew from his slack, wet mouth. ‘Licking Sir Edward’s boots is all he’s fit for. He reckons he can crush us like his father did five years ago, but we all know your mester in’t half the man his father was.’ His voice was slurred. ‘He didn’t ought to have that job. Whoever heard of a pit manager who’s too frightened to go underground?’
‘That’s not true!’ Carrie protested, but Alec Morris was in no mood to listen.
‘You in’t seen him,’ he sneered. ‘Last time he had to come down, he were like a lass, clinging to that cage, his eyes shut, his face as white as a sheet … It would have been funny if it weren’t so bloody pathetic!’ He shook his head. ‘Nay, by rights that job should have gone to a proper miner, a man with experience. Your mester has no business being there. At least his father had summat about him, for all he was a hard man. At least he was worthy of some respect.’
Carrie stared at him, balling her hands into fists at her sides. Alec Morris was at least twice her size, but she was angry enough to knock him flat.
‘Now then, what’s all this?’
The sound of Rob’s voice behind her ran right through Carrie like a jolt of electricity. She went rigid, not daring to turn round.
Mr Morris kept his watery gaze fixed on her. ‘I’m telling this one what we reckon to her husband.’
‘Come on, Alec, leave the lass alone. She’s only come to celebrate the wedding, just like the rest of us.’
‘She ought to know …’
‘Then tell her another time. You don’t want to spoil your Nancy’s day with bad feeling, surely?’ Rob stepped forward and clapped Mr Morris on the shoulder. ‘Why don’t we have a drink? They’ve just opened another barrel, and I can’t abide seeing a man with an empty glass in his hand.’
For a moment Mr Morris didn’t respond. Then he said grudgingly, ‘I hope you’re paying?’
‘When have you known me not to stand my round?’ Rob laughed. ‘Come on, before they empty that barrel too. You know how we Chadwicks like to drink!’
The next minute they were going off together, Rob with his arm firmly around Alec Morris’ shoulders, half holding him up. As they walked away, Rob said something to the other man, who roared with laughter.
Carrie watched them go, silently marvelling at the way Rob could work his charm on people, bending them to his will with nothing more than a smile and a joke. It was like magic.
And still he hadn’t so much as looked at her.
Her argument with Mr Morris had left her feeling unsettled, so after a while she decided to go home. She desperately wanted to be there with James and Henry.
It was still light outside, and the evening air was so warm Carrie didn’t need her shawl around her shoulders as she slipped out of the Welfare Institute and started to make her way home.
She had barely gone a few yards down the lane before she heard that familiar voice behind her.
‘What’s this? You’re leaving without saying goodbye?’
Carrie swung round, dismayed. Rob was leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. For the first time that evening their eyes met, and suddenly she was sixteen years old again, running down the lane into his arms.
‘It in’t like you to leave a party, Carrie Wardle,’ he said. ‘You used to be the last one on the dance floor, as I recall.’
‘Yes, well, happen I’ve got a home and a husband to go home to,’ she snapped.
‘Ah, yes.’ Rob took a long drag on his cigarette, squinting at her through the smoke. ‘You ended up marrying him, then?’
Carrie felt her cheeks burning. ‘Why shouldn’t I?’
‘Why indeed?’
His words hung in the still evening air like the smoke from his cigarette.
‘Stay a bit longer,’ he said. ‘I’ve hardly had a chance to speak to you yet.’
Carrie forced herself to look back at him. ‘I don’t think we’ve got much to say to each other, do you?’
He smiled again. That maddening smile that melted her heart and made her want to hit him at the same time. ‘You still haven’t forgiven me then?’
‘I’m sure I haven’t even thought about you,’ Carrie said haughtily.
‘Not once?’ His brows rose.
Carrie turned away. ‘I have to go,’ she muttered.
‘You shouldn’t let them chase you away, you know,’ Rob said.
‘I’m not. And I didn’t need you to rescue me from Alec Morris, either,’ she said.
‘Oh, I wasn’t. I saw how angry you looked and I was afraid you were going to knock him out!’
‘I nearly did!’ Carrie smiled, then remembered herself. ‘Anyway, I have to go.’
She turned to walk away from him, but his voice followed her up the lane.
‘It was nice to see you, Carrie. Happen we’ll see each other again soon.’
Carrie pulled her shawl around her shoulders, suddenly feeling a chill in spite of the warm evening.
‘Not if I can help it,’ she muttered under her breath.
Chapter Twenty
‘You’ll never guess what t’new nurse is doing now.’
Ida Willis spoke up over the clatter of pots and pans. Some of the village women had assembled in the back kitchen of the Miners’ Welfare Institute to make soup for the children for when they came out of school. They stood in rows, chopping vegetables, peeling potatoes and sawing up loaves of bread, talking and laughing over the sound of clattering knives and bubbling pans.
Ruth Chadwick stopped stirring the onions she was frying. She knew what was coming next, because Jinny had told her about it the previous week.
‘What’s that?’ Mrs Farnley asked, her knife moving swiftly through the pile of carrots she was chopping.
‘A baby clinic,’ Ida Willis said. ‘She’s asked the committee if she can have this place for two hours every week.’
‘Did they say yes?’
‘Well, my Reg reckons they weren’t too keen on the idea of the place being filled with screaming bairns, but t’nurse talked ’em round to her way of thinking.’
‘That don’t surprise me,’ Edie Farnley said ruefully. ‘You’d have trouble saying no to that lass. I told her enough times not to bother coming round to visit my Jack, but she would insist.’
Ruth glanced sideways at Hannah Arkwright, who was busy cutting up ham bones for stock. Her face gave nothing away, but Ruth could see from the tight line of her mouth that she was listening to every word.
‘What’s a baby clinic, anyway?’ Mrs Kettle asked.
‘Blessed if I know.’ Ida Morris shrugged.
‘It’s somewhere new mothers can bring their bairns to have them weighed and make sure they’re getting on all right. And they can come when they’re expecting, too, so t’nurse can make sure everything’s as it should be.’
The words were out before Ruth knew what she was doing. She looked over her shoulder to see the other women staring at her. And no wonder, she was usually the quiet one of the group.
‘You seem to know a lot about it?’ Hannah said in a low voice.
Ruth went back to stirring the onions, her face flaming. ‘T’nur
se was telling our Jinny about it.’ She didn’t meet Hannah’s eye, but she could feel the other woman staring at her accusingly.
‘What I don’t understand is, why she’s bothering?’ Susan Toller said. ‘Surely we don’t need a nurse telling us how to look after our bairns, do we? Women have been having babies for a long time in this village without her sticking her nose in.’
There was a mutter of agreement from the other women.
‘Aye,’ Edie Farnley said. ‘And if they need to know owt, they go to their mother or their sister to help out.’
‘Or to Hannah,’ Ida Willis put in loyally.
‘That’s true,’ Mrs Kettle agreed. ‘I don’t know what would have happened to our Ellen and little Harry if it hadn’t been for her.’
Ruth glanced at Hannah, hacking away at the bones and looking pleased with herself.
‘Happen if your Ellen had gone to the clinic, the nurse might have seen the bairn was in the wrong position a bit earlier?’ Susan Toller spoke up, saying the words that Ruth didn’t dare.
Mrs Kettle shook her head. ‘Nay, it was the shock of losing our Harry that caused the baby to turn round. In’t that right, Hannah?’
‘Aye, that’s right,’ she muttered.
‘And t’nurse were no good then, I can tell you,’ Mrs Kettle went on. ‘You should have seen her. She had no idea what to do with herself, for all her fancy instruments. Running about that bedroom like a chicken with its head cut off, she was …’
She stopped speaking abruptly. Ruth turned round to see what had shut her up, and saw Agnes Sheridan standing in the kitchen doorway.
She must have heard every word Mrs Kettle had said, although her mask of composure gave nothing away. Even so, Ruth was embarrassed for her.
Ida Willis stepped forward, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘Can I help you, miss?’
‘I’ve brought some money for the welfare fund.’ Miss Sheridan stepped forward and held out an envelope. From across the kitchen, Ruth could see it was heavy with coins. ‘I asked all the other nurses at Steeple Street to do a collection in their districts, and this is what they came up with. I hope it will help.’
District Nurse on Call Page 15