Jim came in behind him.
‘That’s what we want to tell you, Anthony. We were married yesterday.’
Anthony sat down suddenly. His face gave away the fact that although he had half-expected it, having been instrumental in reuniting them, nevertheless, the suddenness was still a shock.
‘My congratulations,’ he said, shaking hands with Jim and at the same time searching Katharine’s eyes as if to read her deepest feelings. She avoided his questioning gaze.
Throughout dinner the two men kept up the flow of conversation for which Katharine was thankful. She was tired after the journey and neither was she ready to make light conversation nor to answer questions about her life during the past five years. But at the end of the meal Anthony said,
‘I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear of your marriage, after all, I sent you to her didn’t I? But …’
He stopped, as if in embarrassment.
‘You thought he wouldn’t ask me now,’ said Katharine in her curiously flat voice.
‘No, no,’ said Anthony quickly. ‘I knew Jim would ask – but I thought you would not accept – more than ever now, knowing you.’
Before she could reply, Jim said,
‘I bullied her into it, wouldn’t take no this time. I think she’s still in a dazed state of shock,’ he teased, smiling. ‘Can you prescribe anything, doctor?’
Anthony looked at her soberly.
‘You’ve changed, Kate, but I hope you’ll become what you were before, when you’ve been with us a while.’
Katharine looked away unable to speak. She knew herself, without being told, that she was suffering from deep melancholia – she was not a doctor for nothing.
But at the present time the physician could not heal herself.
‘Well, I must be going,’ Anthony said.
‘Come and see us any time, Anthony, you know you’re always welcome,’ Jim said.
‘Thanks, and I’ll see what I can do to help.’
He leant down and rested his hands on the arms of her chair, looking directly into her eyes.
‘You need help, don’t you, Katharine?’
After a moment she nodded dully.
‘If only I could walk again,’ she whispered, but knew that both men heard her.
‘Perhaps you will, perhaps it’s not so hopeless as they made out, Kate,’ Anthony said.
But Jim’s voice cut in sharply.
‘No. I mean – she’s no need to do more damage to herself – by – forcing herself to try and walk. I’ll look after her. She’s no need to walk.’
Katharine stared at him, startled by the vehemence in his tone. The deep frown had returned to his face and the haunted look to his eyes. It was exactly the same expression she had seen darken his face when she had left him five years before.
After Jim’s outburst, Anthony’s leavetaking was slightly strained. Naturally, from a doctor’s point of view, Anthony’s goal was a cure for her, whilst, it now appeared that Jim was quite content to let her remain tied to her bathchair.
Katharine was shocked by this unexpected revelation of Jim’s feeling and not a little hurt by it.
Why, she asked herself, should he want me to stay like this?
And although the matter was not referred to again between Jim and Katharine, the incident had left her wondering.
Chapter Seven
The first full day after their arrival back in Brackenbeck was taken up almost entirely with callers at Kendrick House. The first of these, and, from Katharine’s point of view, the most welcome, were the Gifford family. As soon as they entered the house Katharine could hear the excited chatter of the children and the quiet tones of Mary trying to quieten her lively offspring. Tom came in first, his grin stretching from ear to ear, and without a glance at the bathchair, he clasped her hands warmly, but not before Katharine’s professional interest had noted that his injured leg was stiff and that it still caused him to limp.
‘Reet glad we are to see thee back, lass.’
The children sidled in, pushed by their mother, shy now that they were to meet their new aunt. The little girl, Katharine, spotted her favourite person.
‘Uncle Jim, Uncle Jim,’ and her round little arms stretched out to Jim and she trotted towards him with a cherubic beam. Jim swung the small girl high above his head and perched her upon his broad shoulder, whilst the child gurgled happily. There were certainly none of the restrictions imposed upon these children by which most children were ruled.
Little Tommy, now a sturdy boy of seven, was not to be left out of his uncle’s attentions and noisily clamoured to be lifted on to his other shoulder.
‘Children, children, what will your Aunt Katharine think of you?’ remonstrated Mary in her soft voice.
But the children merely beamed delightedly at their aunt and then turned their attention back to their uncle. Katharine watched them, feeling, for the moment, left out of their family. Could they ever really accept her as one of themselves? But Mary’s welcome was warmth itself. Her pleasure was genuine, Katharine was sure. And she gave no indication that she disapproved of her crippled sister-in-law. Perhaps, Katharine though she had had some notion that this was what Jim had in mind when he had left for London and consequently the news was no great surprise to her.
As Katherine watched Jim with his nephew and niece, it became apparent to her that he adored children. There was nothing, she supposed, to prevent her having children, but if not impossible, it would certainly be difficult.
She sighed to herself. There were going to be many things which were difficult, she could see that.
The days slid by forming a pattern. Jim stayed with her as much as possible, but he was obliged, at times, to visit his various farmlands and even the quarries, where he was often needed to give Tom advice. He tried frequently to persuade Katharine to go with him.
‘You would be quite comfortable in the motor car, Katharine. It would do you good to come out.’
But Katharine would shake her head and avoid his eyes. She clung to the safe confines of Kendrick House. She went out into the garden, either with Jim’s help or with Arthur – but no further.
It was from Arthur that she learnt more about Jim’s family, for she hesitated to broach the subject with her husband and yet she was curious. As Arthur pushed her chair round the garden one comparatively warm autumn afternoon, Katharine said,
‘Arthur, Mr. Kendrick tells me that you were with his father for a number of years. Tell me, what was he like?’
Arthur cleared his throat self-consciously.
‘I don’t think it my place, ma’am, to give my opinions on Mr. Kendrick’s family.’
‘Oh please, Arthur. I promise you this conversation will go no further. I shall not take offence at anything you say, and I certainly shall not repeat it, least of all to my husband.’
There was a moment’s pause before Arthur said softly. ‘There were never two more different people, ma’am, than Mr. Kendrick and master Jim. I first went into Mr. Kendrick’s employ when master Jim was twelve years old, and Mary a pretty little lass of four. They were sweet children, ma’am, but sad. They had everything material anyone could wish for, the parents were quite well off then. But they lacked affection. Little Mary clung to her brother and he to her. Two years after I went there, ma’am, Mrs. Kendrick took off and we never saw her again. They was always rowing, you know. I’ve seen them poor children sat on the stairs, Mary clinging to her brother, weeping, and him, master Jim, with his face set and his eyes dark with anger, and that at twelve or thirteen. Just the time when a lad should be carefree and happy.
‘Things were a bit easier, I think, after she went, but their father took to drink. Jim was sent away to school eventually and Mary lived with an aunt for some time. When Jim left school and came home at about eighteen, everyone thought he’d go into farming wi’ his father, anyway, seems the cussed old devil, begging your pardon, ma’am, but it’s no more than he deserves.’
; ‘It’s all right, Arthur, do go on.’
‘Well, ma’am, Mr. Kendrick and master Jim had a blazing row, no one knew what about, but off went master Jim to live on his own. And him not a penny to ’is name, mark you.’
‘Where was Mary then?’ Katharine asked.
‘She was still with her aunt, a sister of Mr. Kendrick’s, severe and strait-laced as they come. Poor little girl got no affection from that sour faced old bird either.’
Katharine could not resist a smile but was pleased that Arthur, pushing her chair, could not see her smiling at his tirade against her husband’s family.
‘Anyway, master Jim was not one to be beaten. He worked for Mr. Johnson at the quarry. He started work for him when he was eighteen, and seven years later, old Johnson died and Jim bought the quarry. In the meantime Mary had come to live with Jim in his little cottage and had met Tom Gifford. They wanted to be married but as she was under age, they had to get the old man’s permission. They had another big quarrel, old Kendrick and Mary this time. Although she’s a quiet little thing, ma’am, she’s got a will of iron if she really wants something, and she wanted to marry Tom Gifford all right. Well, in the end the old man gave his consent, but more or less disowned her. Left her none of his money in his will, but, of course, master Jim put that right and Mary’s well taken care of now.’
‘How did old Mr. Kendrick come to own the other three quarries?’
‘The old devil bought them as soon as he heard Jim had bought the Brackenbeck quarry, just so his son couldn’t buy them and get on. It’s a wonder, really, that he left his money to Jim, when all’s done and said, but they seemed to patch up their quarrel just before the old man died.’
‘And Jim’s mother, what of her?’
‘We heard she died about two years ago. Jim and Mary never saw her again from when she left them years before.’
‘How terrible!’
‘It is, ma’am, but they’re both all right now. Mary’s happy as can be, and so’s master Jim – now, ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
Katharine didn’t mind him saying so and yet, she felt guilty. I must try to pull myself together and regain my old cheerfulness, she told herself sternly, but she knew that she could never recapture her full measure of vivacity unless she could walk again.
The days grew into weeks, each a replica of the last. The monotony would normally have driven Katharine, the old Katharine, to distraction, but now she lived in a kind of apathetic stupor.
Christmas was fast approaching and Katharine found, against her will almost, that she was drawn into the festivities. Cook and Mrs. Johnson were constantly asking for her orders and advice as regards their preparations, so much so that Katharine began to wonder if there were not an ulterior motive in their persistence.
It was as if they were trying to force her, however gently and unobtrusively, to take an interest. Jim too was full of enthusiastic plans for Christmas.
‘We’ll have Mary, Tom and the children here for the day. And Anthony, too, if he likes. I’ll get a big tree for the hall. Oh, and by the way I shall get a little present for each of the village children. Will you think of gifts for them, Katharine my love.’
‘I’ll try, Jim. But how shall I know what they’d like? I don’t know them.’
‘Children are all the same. You’ll think of something they’ll love, I’m sure.’
But Katharine was not so sure. She made half-hearted attempts to make out a list and soon small scraps of paper with half-finished lists of suggested gifts were to be found in all parts of the house. In the end, Mary came to her rescue. It seemed that Jim had bestowed the task upon his sister the previous year and she confided to Katharine that she had experienced much the same difficulty.
Gifts for the family were easily settled between Jim and Katharine, but on her gift for him, she could not decide. Again she sought Mary’s guidance.
‘Oh, dear, I really don’t know. I’ll have to think about it, Katharine. I’ll ask Tom what he thinks.’ She giggled. ‘Isn’t it fun, all this present buying? But it’s a worry when you can’t think what to get.’
Katharine tried to smile. For years she had had no one for whom to buy a Christmas gift and now here she was surrounded by a loving husband and his affectionate family and still she could not call forth any enthusiasm. Where usually she felt shame and guilt sweep over her, for the first time she felt angry with herself and vowed that she would not let her misery spoil the Kendrick family’s Christmas.
And so it was only through the strength of that resolve that she was able, for once, to put on an act during the festivities. Christmas Day was bleak and cold, but devoid of the snow for which the children had hoped.
After breakfast, whilst they waited for their guests, Jim said,
‘Katharine, I want to give you my gift now, before the others arrive.’
And before she could protest he left the room returning seconds later with a huge box. In it she found a beautiful coat, of simple lines, but trimmed with sable.
‘I thought it would keep you warm in the motor,’ his eyes searching her face hopefully.
‘I don’t deserve such a gift, I don’t deserve …’ Tears filled her eyes.
‘Katharine, my love, I didn’t mean to upset you, what is it?’
‘Nothing – nothing it’s such a lovely coat and you’ve bought it because you want me to come out with you, don’t you?’
Jim nodded.
‘So much,’ he clasped her hand, ‘ so much …’
At that minute the front door bell pealed, heralding the arrival of the Gifford family and the moment when Katharine felt she was reaching out towards her husband, feeling really close to him for the first time, was lost.
The day passed in noisy gaiety. The children loved every moment and even the adult members of the family were joyously uninhibited – laughing and joking as if they had not a worry in the world.
Katharine too, surrounded by an aura of love and warmth, felt some of the cold bitterness in her heart melt away and her act at last became the truth. She enjoyed that Christmas Day, and was happy for the first time in five years.
But her new found contentment was shortlived. It seemed that her Christmas Day happiness was superficial and therefore soon to wither and die.
For most people the aftermath of Christmas leaves them feeling deflated, the festivity and joviality at an end with only the first harsh winter months of the New Year as a bleak prospect. But for Katharine the dejection was exaggerated and she sank back into the deep melancholia from which she had suffered for so long – if anything, she sank deeper than ever into the black abyss of misery.
It seemed, however, that plans were afoot to try to draw her out of this and Anthony’s arrival at Kendrick House, one cold February day, when Jim was out, seemed to confirm this.
‘Kate,’ he said coming straight to the point as was his habit. ‘I want you to give talks to the mothers of Brackenbeck on the care of their children.’
There was a silence in the drawing-room.
‘I couldn’t, Anthony.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, I can’t move about and do things. Besides, I don’t want to.’
‘Katharine Kendrick – what in heaven’s name has got into you, woman?’ Anthony slapped his thigh and rose from the arm chair where he had been sitting and began to pace the room.
‘I’ll tell you what you need, my girl, a darned good hiding.’
Since Katharine made no reply, he continued.
‘You sit there, wallowing in self-pity instead of using your talents and leading a normal life.’
Another silence.
‘Kate,’ he said softly now, his anger dying. ‘What’s wrong? In the old days you’d have flown at me, claws at the ready, after that little lecture. Have you lost all interest in life?’
‘Of course not,’ she said, twisting her idle hands in her lap. ‘I’m needed here at home – with Jim, that’s all.’
‘I
see.’
‘No, you don’t see. I’m finished with medicine.’
‘No, Kate, you’re not. A doctor has never “finished” with medicine.’
‘I’m not a doctor any longer. They didn’t want me any more, remember? I’m just Jim’s wife.’
‘But that’s not enough, is it, for someone like you? Jim wouldn’t be against you doing this – to help his own people. It needn’t interfere with your home life at all.’
‘I – couldn’t.’
‘I think you’re using Jim as an excuse because I’ve talked to him and he has no objections.’
‘Then you’d no right to discuss such things with him before telling me.’
‘Kate, I need your help. There’s a lot of ignorance amongst these women as regards the upbringing of their children. They’re either over-anxious or neglectful. You could teach them so much, Kate.’
‘What?’
‘General hygiene in the home, a basic knowledge of first-aid – simple dressings and such, besides special help with ante-natal care. There’s so much being done in other parts of the country now, Kate, with regard to personal hygiene instruction,’ continued Anthony, warming to his subject. ‘There’s been health visitors visiting mothers in their homes for a few years now. We haven’t got one here. I’d like you to do that work, Kate.’
‘How can I like this?’
‘You could if you wanted to do it. Nothing would have beaten the old Kate. Don’t you see, it would save lives?’
Katharine made no reply.
Anthony sighed and went towards the door. He turned back briefly.
‘You’ve disappointed me, Kate. I thought you had more spirit than this.’
And he left, slamming the door behind him so that the china in the glass cabinet clattered in protest.
Katharine thought about Anthony’s proposition a good deal during the next few days. But in the end she still decided that she could not go out amongst the people of Brackenbeck. She could not bear to be pitied and to know that they were pitying Jim for being tied to a crippled wife.
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