by Maggie Hope
‘Well, if you’ve come to see our Billy you’ve wasted your time. He’s not coming home till the weekend.’
‘No, I know, he told me,’ said Katie and June’s lips tightened. She turned on the counter assistant and snapped at her before flouncing up the stairs to the office.
‘Get a move on, can’t you? The line will be out of the door soon.’
The assistant pulled a face at June’s disappearing back. ‘She’s not the boss, not by a long way,’ she said, careful not to let her voice carry however.
‘That one must be disappointed in love,’ Dottie observed. ‘It’s a good job I can’t afford to buy cream or her face would have soured it.’ The women grinned.
When Katie came out of the shop she carried her basket of shopping along the top of the rows. It wasn’t heavy; she swung it a little as she walked. Perhaps she would drop it in at home and walk on up the lane. It was a cold crispy day but the sun shone and up the lane she would get away from the all-pervasive smell of sulphur coming from the coke ovens. In the end she walked on, past the end of West Row, forgetting to drop off the basket. And there, just coming down from the bus stand, was Billy. Katie’s heart lifted.
‘Billy! I thought you weren’t going to get here today. Your June said—’
‘What does she know,’ said Billy as he reached her and, after a quick glance round, kissed her on the lips. The touch of his lips was soft and gentle, his mouth closed. He smiled down at her, pleased because the pleasure of seeing him showed in her eyes.
‘I was just going to walk up the lane to catch a bit of fresh air,’ she said.
‘Right. I’ll come with you,’ said Billy. He took her basket from her and they walked on up the rise, not touching, just side by side. Billy swung the basket a little and Katie grinned, imagining what some of his mates might say if they saw him. Dave Canvey for instance, Dave wouldn’t be seen dead carrying a shopping basket.
Overhead the trees were bare and black against the pale, wintry blue of the sky, and when they reached the top of the bank and turned they could see the rows, wreathed in grey smoke and the older village of Winton, standing apart from the pit and all that belonged to it. The tower of the old parish church was not quite as tall as the chimney and winding gear at the pit or the slag heap by them. A wagon full of colliery waste went up the incline and tipped at the top. It looked like a child’s toy from this distance. The pit hooter blew and Katie could just distinguish the winding wheel turning as the cage was brought to the surface. Behind the wheel and tall pit chimney the other side of the valley rose, brown and grey now and without the patches of green which showed in the summer.
They paused at a break in the hedge where a track led into a rabbit warren, the bunny banks as they had always called it. Up here there was a brick-built one-storey building which had once housed the engine which worked the overhead aerial flight; dragging corves of coal along a thick wire rope to the top of the bank where they could be dropped into wagons and run down the other side to the main railway to the coast. That had been years ago, nowadays the railway engines were of sufficient strength to carry the coal all the way themselves.
Katie shivered. The wind up here was so much stronger than down by the rows and the quality of her coat was poor. She’d bought it from the tally man before she had gone nursing.
‘You should have got a club out at the store,’ Gran had counselled but Katie didn’t want any debt hanging over her when she started her new life.
Billy looked at her with concern. ‘You’re cold,’ he said and drew her in the doorway of the building out of the wind. The door was ajar and Katie looked around curiously for she remembered it as always being locked up. Billy put his arm around her waist and drew her further in. It was strangely warm in there; leaves rustled on the floor, brown and sere. In the corner there was a coal sack – perhaps a tramp had taken shelter one night.
‘Keep away from the middle,’ advised Billy though how she could have gone anywhere without him she couldn’t imagine, feeling his arm around her. It too was warm; he was wearing a good thick overcoat, dark blue and belted.
There was a square hole in the middle of the floor where the engine had been. There was nothing left now but a wire rope hanging from the overhead beam. The hole was about eight foot deep.
‘Come here,’ said Billy softly and leaned against the wall, drawing her to him. He opened his coat and enfolded her in it and it was warm and cosy and she leaned her head against his chest. She could feel his heart beating, strong and sure. Oh, Billy, she thought. I could just stay with you; forget about a career. When he kissed her his kisses became more demanding, her mouth opened to his and his tongue probed, sending hot shivers down her spine. His hand was inside her coat, feeling her breast through her jumper, then beneath it and touching her bare skin gently then more insistently and she felt her nipple harden in response.
Billy groaned, his knee was between hers and he was forcing hers apart. And with a last glimmer of rational thought she caught hold of his wrist; pressed back against the hard brick wall.
‘Don’t, Billy,’ she said but softly.
‘Why not? Oh, Katie—’
‘No!’ said Katie, louder now.
‘But Katie, we’re engaged, it’ll be all right, really—’
‘No!’ Katie pushed him away.
Billy stood, breathing heavily now, his face flushed. He said nothing for a moment simply looked at her in anguish before seeming to take hold of himself and turning away. He stared into the corner where the brown leaves were rustling in the draught from the door; looked down the hole in the middle of the floor for a moment, blankly. Then he turned back to her.
‘Sorry Katie,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have tried to rush you.’
Katie felt awful. It was she who should be sorry she well knew. Either she wanted him or she didn’t, wasn’t that how it should go? And she did want him, her body cried out for him but it was the consequences she couldn’t bear to think about. Supposing she had a child? Then all her plans, all she had worked for would be finished. She would be just another housewife, dependent on her man. She gazed at him and bit her lip. He looked strained, unhappy.
‘I’m sorry, Billy,’ she said. ‘Oh, why can’t I be like other girls?’
Billy smiled and took a step towards her. ‘I don’t want you to be like other girls, Katie. I love you as you are. Anyway, you’re the one I want and I will wait if I have to. Don’t worry about today, it was my fault.’ He bent and kissed her lips again, chastely this time with his lips closed, a space between their bodies.
‘Come on,’ he bent and picked up the basket of groceries, ‘we’d best get these back to your gran. She’ll be fed up with waiting for them.’ He paused and looked at her. ‘You’re still wearing my ring, aren’t you? Even if it is on a chain round your neck.’
Katie fished inside the neckline of her jumper and brought out the ring. A shaft of light from the doorway caught one of the stones and it flashed brightly. ‘Of course I do,’ she said softly. ‘I never take it off.’
Outside the wind had freshened; the short winter’s day was already beginning to darken. She pulled up her collar, shivered, and Billy took off his scarf and wound it round her. It smelled of him, warm, masculines and with a hint of something else, bay rum was it?
He took her arm and drew her close to him and they set off down the bank towards the rows. A fine rain began to fall and they hurried on. A car came up: behind them with its lights already on and they lit up the first of the miners’ rows and reflected on the slanting rain. It slowed for a moment and Katie looked at it, it seemed familiar somehow. And was that Mr Hamilton sitting in the back? No, of course it couldn’t be, what would he be doing here on a night like this? Though it was a posh car and with a chauffeur.
‘Where the heck have you been, Katie? There must have been some queue at the store the day.’ Gran’s words greeted her as she opened the back door. Billy had gone off to his parents’ house, promising to call b
ack for her at half past six.
‘We’ll go to the pictures. It’s The Singing Fool,’ he had said. ‘You’d like to see it, wouldn’t you?’
Katie had assured him she would. Now, she glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and was shaken to see that it was already four o’clock.
‘Sorry, Gran,’ she said, looking contrite. ‘I met Billy Wright and we went for a walk.’
‘In this weather?’ Kitty looked at Katie’s flushed face and nodded her head. ‘Ah well, there’s no harm done. We can have a nice talk the night when we’ve had our teas.’
‘I said I’d go to the pictures,’ Katie admitted and her grandmother pursed her lips and spoke sharply.
‘Oh well, that’s all right. Just treat the place like a hotel, do.’
‘Oh Gran, I’ll tell him I can’t go, I’m sorry, I never thought,’ said Katie and Gran sighed.
‘No, you go on, I’m all right,’ she said. ‘I want to listen to the play on the wireless any road.’
‘Sure?’ Katie looked doubtful but in the end she went off down the row to meet Billy. As she turned the corner she bumped into her father, striding along with his head bent against the wind, his hands deep in his pockets.
‘Watch out, lass,’ he said and stopped as he saw who it was. Tucker Benfield never said much to Katie on the occasions when they did happen to meet. To her he always seemed a silent sort of a man dominated by Hannah, his wife and Katie’s mother. But now he gazed at her as though he were seeing her for the first time for years which wasn’t strictly so. His mother and Hannah had always been at each other’s throats and he liked a quiet life, which was why he usually had to sneak off if he wanted to see his parents. Which wasn’t very often.
‘Dad,’ said Katie and she looked back at him. Tucker was like Noah to look at, she thought. But not at all like him in nature. If he had been he would have seen much more of her, she reckoned. Noah wouldn’t have gone months without seeing his daughter, no, he would not. Thomas, the baby who supplanted her at home, had died at six months and Gran had said Hannah wanted Katie back and the two women had fought over her. For once Tucker had asserted his authority.
‘Let the bairn bide where she is,’ he had said and from then on there had been a coldness in the family. And Katie still didn’t understand why she was the one who had been given away, as she called it. Even if it was to Gran and Grandda.
‘Now then, Katie,’ Tucker said now. ‘I’m away to see me mother.’
‘That’ll be a surprise for her,’ she answered. ‘How long is it since the last time? Six months, is it?’
‘Don’t you be cheeky, lass,’ he said but his face had reddened. ‘Any road, I thought you were in Middlesbrough, learning to be a nurse.’
‘I am. I’m on my day off.’
Tucker looked keenly at her. ‘You seem well enough, like,’ he said.
‘I am. And the others, how are they doing?’
‘All right, though your mother has a bad chest this cold weather.’
‘Oh,’ Katie replied. ‘Sorry.’ She waited but though he stood there he didn’t say any more.
‘Well, I have to go.’
‘Be seeing you then.’ Tucker turned and went off down the back street of West Row.
They talked to each other as though they were strangers, Katie thought, as she walked along the top of the rows to meet Billy. That’s what they were, really, strangers. She forgot about her father as she and Billy walked to the Royal, the new picture house that had opened at the other end of Winton. This was the first night out she’d had for ages and she intended to enjoy it.
When the lights went down in the cinema and the screen flickered and Al Jolson sang, it was warm and safe. Safe because they were not sitting in the back row and though Billy held her hand at first and then put his arm around her shoulders, it was nice, unthreatening. And afterwards they went to the fish shop and ate chips from the bag as they strolled home.
‘I’ll be working at Winton from next week,’ said Billy. ‘Now I’ve finished my training I’m a fully qualified surveyor and I could get an official’s house with a bathroom and everything if I wanted to.’ He glanced at Katie to see her reaction. The future was good for him, couldn’t she see that? Why did she have to be so different from other girls? Most of them would jump at the chance of marrying a surveyor and living in a nice house. But he was not surprised at her answer.
‘I know, Billy,’ she said. ‘But in three years my training will be finished too. I want to do it, Billy.’
Next day Katie was out for the eight o’clock bus to Bishop Auckland. Though she had a half-day and didn’t start on the ward until one she had a lecture at eleven. As she walked down Newgate Street it began to snow, big, soft flakes that clung to the windows of the shops before running down to melt on the pavement. Katie shivered in her thin coat and pulled her hat further down on her head and her scarf higher on her neck. It would be cold on the bus. But the time would pass quickly. Her pages of notes on the Theory of Nursing were in her bag and she had revising to do before she went into class.
The bus was not waiting in when she got to the market place as it usually was. There were a few people standing disconsolately at the bus stop, a few more huddled in the shop doorways as they tried to escape the snow. Katie stamped her feet, trying to bring life back to her toes. The cold struck through from the pavement, even though she wore rubber overshoes.
There were few people about apart from those waiting for buses; the sky was heavy over the town hall and the entrance to the bishop’s castle on the opposite side of the market place. Katie waited and shivered. The town hall clock struck a quarter past the hour; she checked it with the clock over the castle gateway. It was indeed a quarter past the hour. It was too early to panic, she, told herself, and there was still plenty of time to get there. She wished she had taken the train, trains always ran. But the fares were so expensive compared to the bus …
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car hooter, piping away in the comparative quiet of the market place. She looked up, there was a large car standing just along from the bus stop; a familiar large car, the one she had seen yesterday. Mr Hamilton’s car, she realised, as a man got out from behind the wheel and came over to her. The other people waiting for the bus looked at him curiously and then at Katie.
‘Mr Hamilton says are you going back to the hospital? We can give you a lift.’
‘No, I’ll get the bus,’ said Katie and the people looked at her as though she were mad.
‘The bus may not come,’ said Lawson. ‘I heard the snow was heavier along by Darlington.’ There was a chorus of groans from the people waiting.
Katie hesitated. She had to get to the lecture; it would be a bad mark against her if she did not so early in her training. Sister Tutor brooked no excuses, she knew that.
‘Come on, lass, it’s only a lift, it won’t hurt you,’ said Lawson. He glanced back at the figure in the back of the car. He didn’t want to go back and admit he hadn’t managed to persuade her.
Katie let out her breath. After all, what could happen in a car with a chauffeur sitting in front? And it was a lousy day and she was getting more and more wet and cold. She went with him.
‘All right for some,’ said a woman through the shawl that muffled her head. There was a murmur of agreement as the queue watched Katie enviously as Lawson held open the car door for her.
Chapter Ten
THE INTERIOR OF the car was warm and cosy with real leather seats and deep upholstery to sink into. Lawson closed the door after her and went round to the driver’s seat. The car set off, gliding through the slush, down Newgate Street and out on to the Darlington road. Katie had murmured a thank you as she got into the car and Matthew had smiled and inclined his head but apart from that nothing was said until they were on the open road.
Katie began to relax. She might as well enjoy it, she told herself. Car rides were a luxury she didn’t experience very often. And though the snow was beginn
ing to lie out here in the country, it was not enough to cause a problem.
‘You have been to see your family?’
He had been silent for so long that when he spoke Katie jumped.
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘At Winton Colliery,’ she added. ‘I’m grateful to you for giving me a ride, I have a lecture at eleven.’
‘It’s no trouble. I am visiting a friend in Bishop Auckland and I have to go back to Middlesbrough anyway.’
‘Well, thank you anyway, Mr Hamilton.’ Katie had to stop herself from adding ‘sir’. She glanced over at him; he was gazing at her, perhaps staring was the right word. She felt her cheeks redden; had she a smut on her nose? Did the scarf she had tied round her hat on the bus stand look common? She loosened it and laid it on her shoulders.
‘It’s warm in here,’ she said.
‘Not too warm, I hope?’ He leaned forward as though to issue instructions to the chauffeur then sat back as she shook her head hurriedly.
‘No, I like it.’
In fact her toes were at last beginning to thaw and she felt fine. Except that she would not be able to revise. She looked down at the bag containing her notes. Well, she would probably be at the hospital early enough to look them over.
‘Your grandfather is Noah Benfield, isn’t he? A good worker, according to Thompson.’ He did not add that Thompson had also said, ‘Though he takes Mondays off when he’s on fore shift. But he works hard enough to make up for it during the rest of the week.’
‘Yes.’ Katie looked down at her hands. Had he been making inquiries about her? It sounded like it. ‘How is Mrs Hamilton? Recovered, I hope?’ The words sounded stilted in her own ears, what was she doing talking like that? But Matthew didn’t want to talk about Mary Anne.
He nodded briefly, ‘Quite well, thank you.’
The road was becoming a little bumpy and they could feel the bumps even in this well-sprung Bentley. Outside the snow was falling faster. He saw her watching it anxiously.