* * *
They did pay a visit to Ralph Royd at Christmas, though all the while she and her husband were there Kit was on tenterhooks and she was glad to have the excuse that there was lots of work to be done on the farm, thereby rendering her stay brief. Her relief at getting away was two-fold, for Wyn had had a stillborn baby, and besides feeling sorry for her niece, Kit did not wish to be reminded of her own past hurts nor to dwell on her present infertility.
Making a January resolution to stop bewailing the absence of a baby, Kit threw herself into another year of hard work. It was tremendously difficult for her, though, when spring came to see the mares producing foals and the ewes their lambs – especially so when the orphans and weaklings were brought into the kitchen for her to rear. Once a piglet, too, was given to her care, nestling in Kit’s arms like a little pink baby. Her devastation when it died brought ridicule from her father-in-law, who told her she was too soft to be a farmer’s wife, and even Phoebe with whom she got on so well began to think that Kit was overly sentimental.
Whitsuntide came. Little girls and boys dressed in white marched in procession round the village. The hawthorn hedges were amassed with creamy blossom. In the pasture the daisies grew so thickly that one could hardly see the grass beneath. But still there was no wriggle of life within her womb.
Kit began to despair that the fortune-teller had been right after all: she was destined to remain childless. And if she could not give Worthy the child he longed for, then he might conclude there was no point in remaining married to her, so fulfilling the gypsy’s entire reading. His words and actions denied this, he was as loving as ever towards Kit, but watching him give piggyback rides to his small nephews and nieces, seeing the warmth upon his face as he spoke to them, she found it impossible to ignore this blight upon her otherwise happy marriage.
Worthy thought she might be homesick and, as they waited for others to join them for a cup of tea one sunny morning, said, ‘You haven’t seen tha kin since Christmas – we mun go over this Sunday!’
Kit thought about this. It would be the first Sabbath in the month and the family – or what was left of it – would be gathered in one place. But any contact with her old village brought risk and she did not want to expose herself. ‘It won’t be much of a pleasure for you, dearest. They’re an odd lot.’ She concentrated on pouring the tea.
‘They’re all right to me.’ Having come to read his wife’s face well, Worthy noticed that she seemed reluctant for him to accompany her. It rather hurt him. ‘Have I done something to offend you?’ He tried to think of some inadvertent blunder he might have committed.
‘No!’ She had finished pouring the tea, though had not yet sat down, setting more cups on the table, pretending to busy herself. ‘It’s just an old tradition that our family gathers at Monty’s house on the first Sabbath of the month.’ That, at least, was the truth.
Worthy was baffled as to why she would want to leave him out. ‘But aren’t I part of your family now?’
‘Of course! But none of them bring their spouses—’ Kit broke off as her mother-in-law appeared in the doorway. ‘Oh, the devil take tradition! You can come if you like.’
* * *
Her family was pleased to see Worthy again, for all had taken to Kit’s giant of a husband, deeming him a good sensible chap – just the sort their sister needed to keep her in line. Kit was mortified when Gwen voiced this to Worthy, but upon realizing her mistake Gwen qualified her statement by saying that her youngest sister had never been particularly keen on housework nor cooking and she hoped he wasn’t suffering too much at his wife’s hands. Worthy merely laughed and, pointing to his expansive girth, replied that he had not had to tighten his belt yet but if he did it might not be a bad thing.
Excusing herself, Kit said she was just going to the farleymelow. Gwen thought to explain the word to Worthy but he already knew what it meant — Kit had told him all about the funny things her nephews and nieces had said when they were little. He could tell from the way she spoke about them how much she loved children. It was a crying shame, he said in his wife’s absence, that Katherine did not have a baby of her own. She would make such a wonderful mother.
Charity glanced at Gwen and said, ‘Well, there’s plenty of time yet.’ Gwen made a joke and said, ‘She’s maybe building up all her energy – it’ll be a big un when it comes, looking at the pair of ’ee.’
Worthy said it was a wonder his mother had had any more after him. ‘I were a huge babby – sixteen pounds, Mother said.’
There were gasps. ‘We thought Kit were big!’ laughed Monty. ‘You make her look like Thumbelina.’
As if their conversation had been transmitted, Kit was thinking about babies too. Kneeling by her daughter’s grave, she plucked handfuls of grass away from the stone in an attempt to tidy it up. Deep in thought, she jumped at the sound of a voice.
‘Sorry, Aunt.’ Probyn dropped to his knees beside her, and gripped her arm – she looked as if she were going to faint. ‘I saw you coming in here and came to say hello.’
‘I’ll swing for you one of these days.’ Slightly recovered, Kit brushed the dirt from her hands and rose. ‘I’m supposed to be in the privy.’ The closet at the end of her garden backed on to the allotments; after answering the call of nature she had sneaked through the hedge and across to the graveyard. ‘I just thought I’d pop in and see her – and your mam and your sister – I get so little chance.’
Probyn nodded, fully aware that his Uncle Worthy knew nothing of this.
Kit studied him. Over the past year he had shot up but it seemed doubtful he would exceed his current height of five foot five. With the demise of his mother, he remained the smallest in the family. In fond manner, she made to take his arm. ‘Come on, we’d best shift.’
Asked where he had been, Probyn said he had visited the pit to look down an old shaft before the watchman had chased him off. He had often peered down into the blackness, dropping pebbles and waiting for the responding sound, trying to picture himself at the bottom. He inhaled, looking nervous. ‘I start tomorrow.’
Kit felt sorry for him, but said she was glad that he had resigned himself to the fact.
He corrected her. ‘I still want to go in t’army.’
The trees in the graveyard sagged under a froth of blossom, its pungency tickling her nostrils. When she spoke her voice had a nasal tone. ‘Well, maybe you can when you’re older. Just keep your dad happy for the time being.’
Her nephew was terse as he opened the gate for her. ‘He’s happy as a pig in shi – in muck, making a fool of himself with that Mrs Carr. Everybody in t’village is talking about ’em.’
‘That lot are never happy lest they’re talking about somebody,’ retorted Kit. ‘It makes a change for it not to be me!’ She tightened her grip on his arm and said in kind tone, ‘I know you loved your mam but she’s been gone two years now. You shouldn’t begrudge your dad some happiness.’
Probyn distorted his mouth and remained stubborn. After escorting his aunt back across the allotments to the end of her garden he said he had promised to visit one of his pals and would have to leave her. Kit returned to the cottage alone.
‘We were just going to send out a search party,’ said Gwen.
Kit groped for an excuse. ‘I saw our Probe over t’fence in t’allotment and got chatting to him. What’s all this about you and Mrs Carr?’ she asked her brother, and thought how quaint it was to see a fifty-year-old man turn as red as his hair.
Her sisters obviously knew nothing about it either. Merry, who kept house for her father, pursed her lips and looked at the floor.
As Monty was pounced on by his womenfolk, Worthy looked from one to the other, without a clue as to what was going on.
‘You’ve no need to justify yourself to me,’ said Kit as her brother started to do so. ‘I like Mrs Carr – but I think it’s about time you made an honest woman of her.’
Still crimson, Monty looked at his other sisters, who se
emed to be in accordance with this. In fact he was the only person in the room to voice contrariety. ‘People might say it’s too soon,’ he mumbled.
‘From what our Probe says it’s not soon enough,’ said Kit.
Monty banged his fist on the chair arm. ‘Dang that little – what’s he been saying? If he’s slandered that fine woman I’ll—’
‘He hasn’t!’ Kit soothed him.
Monty brought his bad-tempered frown under control and glanced at his brother-in-law, who was looking bemused. ‘I’m sorry, Worthy.’
‘No need to apologize to me,’ came the big man’s reply.
Kit turned to her seventeen-year-old niece. ‘Merry, you’d like to see your dad happy, wouldn’t you?’
Meredith held the same grudge as her brother – did not want Mrs Carr coming in here taking over as if she were their mother. It was bad enough when Aunt Gwen came in and bossed her about. She gave an unenthusiastic, ‘Yes.’
‘There you are!’ Kit told her brother. ‘There’s nothing to stand in the way of a proposal.’ She was surprised to see Monty cringe again. His reply was sheepish. ‘I’ve already asked her. She agreed.’
There was laughter, congratulations and pleas for him to waste no more time. Infected by their pleasure, Monty grew more animated and told them that he and his lady friend had talked about marrying next month – he hoped they would all attend.
Kit said she for one would be there and gave a happy sigh. ‘Eh, I don’t know – we’re all embarking on our new lives: Probe down the pit, Monty getting wed, me with my fine husband.’ With a warm smile she told Worthy they should be on their way home. ‘It’s been a grand day.’ Worthy asked if he could take the ladies anywhere – the trap had room for four. To Kit’s annoyance, Gwen was swift to acquire a lift home, taking them miles out of their way. Charity as usual was more thoughtful, alighting at the same time as her sister and saying she had not much further to walk.
Before the trap pulled away, Gwen said: ‘I been thinking. This wedding might be an ideal time to bring those two brothers of ours together. They’ve been acting like schoolboys long enough.’
‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea,’ said Kit.
‘No, well you might not,’ replied Gwen. ‘But I feel sorry for Monty. He did so much to keep his family together and I know it hurts him to see it fallen apart. There’s only us two make the effort now.’
Charity excused their younger sister. ‘Kit has further to travel than we do, Gwen.’
Worthy jumped in. ‘I don’t mind bringing her more often.’
This was not what Kit wanted. ‘You’ve enough to do!’
‘Anyway, never mind that,’ said Gwen. ‘I think we should hatch a plan to get Owen to come to his brother’s wedding.’
‘It’s a waste of time,’ said Kit, her other sister agreeing. ‘Once Owen has his mind set against something it’s impossible to shift him.’ He was not alone. There were other families in the area that had been torn apart by the strike and had not shared one word for the past three years.
Gwen thought she knew best. ‘I’ve been around longer than you have. Sometimes people need a good shove.’
‘What are you going to tell him?’ asked Kit.
‘Oh, he’ll know I’m up to something,’ said Gwen, abdicating her role. ‘Better if you do it – you’re the only one to see him anyway.’
Kit frowned. ‘I don’t know whether I can lie to him.’
‘It’s never stopped you before,’ retorted Gwen – then at her sister’s blush realized she had put her foot in it and added quickly, ‘It’s for a noble cause. We got to get these two silly boys back together, Kit. What do you say? Worthy, you wouldn’t want to be exiled from your brother, would you?’
He shook his head, but said that as he did not know Owen he could not say how he would react. ‘I abhor lies myself, but then if it’s for a good cause …’
Kit pondered over the matter. It would be nice to see her brothers reunited. ‘Shouldn’t we consult Mrs Carr?’
‘What’s it got to do with her?’ demanded Gwen.
Kit emitted a laughing gasp. ‘Well, it’s her wedding too!’ Then, she sighed. ‘This is daft. Owen won’t come within a mile of Ralph Royd and we can’t get Monty to change the venue without raising his suspicion.’
Gwen didn’t care to be told her plan was silly, and was determined to see it through. Charity came up with a solution. ‘Your Donald comes of age soon, doesn’t he? You’ll be throwing a bit of a do I expect – well, invite Owen and Monty to that.’
Though not as dramatic as the wedding idea, Gwen agreed that it was the only way to do this. She pressed Kit for support.
Kit sighed again. ‘Well, I still say it’s a waste of time, but I’ll do it.’ At the others’ thanks she allowed her husband to drive off. ‘Now all we have to do is think of a convincing excuse for Owen,’ she told Worthy.
He sighed, ‘Well, rather you than me. I can’t lie to save my life.’
* * *
It was sad that Monty’s wedding took place without his brother present, but in retrospect Gwen had to agree that it had not been a good idea. Had anything gone wrong the event would have been ruined. As it was, the day turned out to be a very happy one, even Probyn and Merry discarding their misgivings.
As ever, Kit was worried that Worthy might overhear some snippet of gossip, but that did not happen, the occasion spawning only good things. She and her sisters were able to use this get-together to devise a plan to bring their brothers into the same room.
Speaking to his brother-in-law, Monty indicated the three sisters who huddled in conference in a corner of the reception hall. ‘Like witches round a cauldron – I wonder what they’re at.’
Worthy hoped he would not receive a direct enquiry, for then he could not pretend ignorance. ‘In forty-odd years I’ve never come to know what goes on in a woman’s head.’
You’ll certainly have your work cut out with Kit, thought Monty, suffering a pang of guilt that he himself was party to deceiving this good man. But he smiled at Worthy and said, ‘It’s better not to know.’
On the way home from the wedding, Kit asked her husband if they might make a slight detour and visit Owen to save her going back another time. When they arrived at Garborough Junction, it was to an unusually warm reception. Owen was alone, mending his boots but, presented with visitors, he put these aside.
‘Why, look at this!’ His dark eyes sparkled at their fine attire. ‘I’m honoured – but you didn’t have to get dressed up for me tha knows.’
Entering the cool shade of his pit cottage, a smiling Kit revealed the truth. ‘As a matter of fact we’ve been at Monty’s wedding. He married Mrs Carr who works at the shop.’
Owen maintained his happy edifice, though brushed over Kit’s information by asking if they would like a cup of tea – Meg was out somewhere, gasbagging he suspected. Seeing his guests were about to sit on the shabby sofa he told them to hang on whilst he shoved a newspaper underneath them. ‘I don’t want you muckying my furniture.’
To the crumpling of paper, Kit sat down next to her husband, telling Owen. ‘It would’ve been nice if you’d been there.’
Owen gave a nonchalant shrug, then reached for the teapot. ‘Do you want a biscuit with this? Oh aye, we can afford such things now tha knows – we’re nobbut posh.’
Pleased at his jovial air, Kit thought she knew the reason. ‘Our Monty’s just got a ten per cent rise – did you get it too?’
Owen looked momentarily distracted and tapped his chest. ‘He got it because I fought for it!’ Then, swallowing the brief taste of bitterness, he sat down with his sister and brother-in-law to explain the reason for the increase and all the work that had gone into acquiring it. Coal prices had shot up lately, thereby lending him bargaining power. Since seeing her last year he had made great inroads towards increasing membership – which was now even higher than it had been before the lockout. The Yorkshire miners had formed an alliance with Lancas
hire and the Midlands, so strengthening their cause. ‘I thought we might have another strike on our hands but the masters backed down – even them stingy blighters at Ralph Royd!’ He rubbed his hands in uncharacteristic glee. ‘Can you believe it? We’re out for a rise every year now – and an eight-hour day if we maintain this unity.’
Kit said she hoped he would get it. Owen confidently predicted he would, then seeing that glazed expression come over their eyes which indicated he had spoken too long on the union, he asked what other family events there had been.
Kit took a deep breath. ‘Well, that’s the reason we’re here really. It’s Donald’s coming of age next Saturday. Gwen’s having a little tea party and asked me to extend an invitation to you and Meg and the kids.’
‘Too idle to come herself.’ Owen cleared his lungs, then dipped a biscuit into his tea. ‘I never see her now.’
‘There’s nowt to stop you going there,’ Kit accused him. ‘Why should folk have to come to you?’
He was unresponsive. ‘I’m not right bothered about seeing any of ’em, especially Donald – he’s turned into a right jessie – and I never got a do for my twenty-first.’ The Kilmasters had always eschewed such frivolity.
‘We’re off, aren’t we, Worthy?’ Kit turned to her husband, who nodded his balding head though he was unable to participate in his wife’s machinations and could not look Owen in the eye, paying more attention to his teacup.
‘I suppose t’other fella will be goin’ an’ all,’ said Owen. ‘Well, I won’t.’
Kit’s lie was delivered in a casual straight-faced manner. ‘Oh, Monty won’t be there. He’s promised to take Mrs Carr somewhere – or Mrs Kilmaster I should say. They’ve had it arranged for ages apparently.’ She raised her cup to her lips.
Owen studied her. One could never tell if Kit were being truthful. ‘You’re sure? Well, we might just stick our heads in then.’
Kit grinned and said she was sure the others would be glad to see him again. Her mission accomplished, she finished her tea, then told Worthy it was about time they were getting along. ‘Tell Meg we were sorry to miss her.’
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