He could hardly wait to visit her again, his mind spinning with unlikely possibilities. Following his visit to the hospital he’d gone home as if walking on air, filled with hope for the future, a sensation that had quickly evaporated as reality had once more kicked in.
How could he even begin to dream of them getting back together when he was engaged to someone else? The college week seemed to drag by and always there was Caro at his side, a rude reminder of the cruel trick fate had played on him. He’d only taken up with her in the first place in an attempt to banish Harriet from his mind, believing she meant to marry Vinny Turner. But that hadn’t happened. She hadn’t even run back to him, obviously seeing sense in the end. He couldn’t bear to think of the frightening summer she must have spent all alone on the streets. He wanted her so badly, but it was too late. He was no longer free because he’d lumbered himself with a girl he didn’t love.
Yet one word to Caro and he could be free.
He certainly couldn’t marry the girl. It would be entirely wrong. No matter how painful, he must be honest with her. Even if he failed to win Harriet back, it was unfair to Caro when really he felt nothing more than friendship towards her. All he had to do was explain his mistake, and ask her to release him from his promise.
He thought of her tears when he’d tried to put off their engagement, which had resulted in his going off with her the very next day to buy the ring. He must tread more carefully this time, exercise tact and diplomacy yet remain firm, or she’d have him at the altar in no time. It was not going to be easy.
They spent the afternoon sitting in his study bedroom working on their respective theses. Caro wasn’t an easy companion as she tended to chatter all the time, which rather spoiled his concentration. Steve barely listened to a word she said today as his thoughts were elsewhere, still wrapped up in Harriet and her predicament, which was undoubtedly serious. If Joyce had her way, she’d have that baby adopted, using fair means or foul.
Steve suddenly became aware that Caro had raised her voice, demanding his attention. ‘You aren’t even listening to me,’ she complained. ‘You don’t seem interested in your own wedding.’
Steve’s eyebrows climbed in surprise. ‘Wedding? Who said anything about a wedding?’
Caroline pushed his books away and slid on to his knee. ‘Don’t be silly, when people get engaged there’s always a wedding shortly afterwards.’
‘We’re still at college. How can we even think of getting married?’
‘Silly boy, we’ll be leaving in just a few months. By next May or early June, we’ll be free, our finals will be behind us and we can do as we please. A June wedding would be lovely, don’t you think? Should we have the bridesmaids in ice blue or cerise? What do you think? Then a honeymoon in Paris or Rome, and your mother suggests that we put a deposit down on one of those nice new houses in Chorlton.’
Steve leapt to his feet so fast she fell off his lap, too startled by the sheer completeness of these plans to remember his intention to exercise tact and diplomacy. ‘There isn’t going to be any wedding. I’m sorry, Caro, but this farce has gone on long enough. I blame myself entirely for allowing the situation to go this far, but I can’t marry you, I really can’t. I don’t even love you.’
Caroline screamed, then cried a great deal, sobbing and begging him to change his mind, flying about the room in a rage one minute and flinging herself on to his bed in hysterics the next. She saw through his excuses instantly, and bitterly accused him of two-timing her with Harriet, which he strongly denied. Finally, when she realised that her tears were having no effect, she slapped his face, flung her ring at him and stormed off.
Steve felt nothing but relief.
‘Taking on another man’s child is bound to lead to disaster,’ Joyce had sneeringly informed him on that occasion when he’d battled with her to allow him upstairs to speak to Harriet.
His mates said very much the same thing, all insisting he was completely mad when he confided his intentions to them, which he supposed he was. But if this was madness, then he welcomed it. He knew that it was Harriet he wanted, and he would allow no one to stand in his way. Not Vinny Turner, not Joyce, not his own mother, and certainly not convention. Stuff convention. He loved her.
The only person who could prevent him from achieving his dream was Harriet herself. She’d naturally be nervous that any marriage between them might turn out to be a replica of Joyce and Stan’s, and who could blame her?
All he had to do was persuade her to set aside these fears, along with her pride and stubbornness, and admit that she’d never stopped loving him. Steve rather thought preventing the lean on the Tower of Pisa might be easier to accomplish. Nevertheless he was definitely going to give it his best shot.
The day after Harriet had sent Father Dimmock away in something of a temper, Rose came again to see her, and Steve came too. He turned up just ten minutes into visiting, and for some reason her grandmother instantly remembered an urgent appointment she must keep at that very moment.
‘I’ll pop in later this evening, as usual, but I’ve got to dash now. Steve’ll keep you company for a bit, won’t you, lad?’ Seconds later she was rushing out the door, not having stayed long enough to even remove her hat and coat. Harriet felt very slightly offended.
Equally embarrassed, Steve smiled awkwardly down at Harriet. She looked tired but with colour in her cheeks, and the beginnings of what might be contentment in her smile. She was wearing a new blue quilted bed jacket over a matching nightdress which Rose must have bought for her. She looked so beautiful he felt a lump come into his throat. Suddenly at a loss, he said the first thing which came into his head.
‘Mrs Ibbotson knows I shouldn’t even be here. By rights I should be at college, but I rang in sick.’
Harriet couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Playing truant, eh? I’m glad you are here though. As you can see, I’m in need of a friend right now.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ Steve’s mind went blank again, and he couldn’t think what to do with his hands so he took a peep at the baby, snuggled in a cosy blanket in her crib at the foot of the bed.
Harriet said, ‘I thought I might call her Michelle, as that means gift from God, which this child surely must be to have survived such an inauspicious start in life.’
‘Michelle. I like that. It’s a lovely name.’ He thrust his hands into his pockets, so that they wouldn’t do anything crazy of their own accord, like snatch her into his arms. Rushing her could ruin everything. ‘Does he know? Vinny, I mean. Sorry, that’s a daft question. Of course he must know. Has he called to see her, to see you?’ Steve could feel his heart pounding as he waited for her answer.
‘You must be joking. To be fair I haven’t even told him yet of Michelle’s birth, but then I’m not quite sure where he is, somewhere in London, I believe.’
He glanced down at the fingers of her left hand, to make sure it was still bare of any ring. ‘I assume he wasn’t prepared to marry you then, and that’s how you came to be homeless and wandering the streets?’
Harriet shifted uncomfortably in the bed, not quite meeting his eye. ‘You presume correctly, although there were other factors involved.’
He came to sit on the edge of the bed, quite against the rules, and took her hand in his. ‘I realise how difficult it must have been for you, Harriet, and I’m sorry. I know you loved him.’
‘I thought I loved him, but that’s not quite the same thing, is it? It seemed fun at the time, swept along in a mad-cap whirl of rebellion and freedom.’ She gave a bitter little laugh. ‘But he didn’t really care for me at all, or I him, for that matter. I was just confused.’ She blinked back the tears which pride wouldn’t permit her to let fall.
Steve thought of Caro when last he’d seen her, her eyes wild with fury, and nodded. He understood about that sort of confusion, of being swept along by events.
As if reading his thoughts, Harriet asked in a pseudo-bright voice, ‘So, what about this girl you’re seein
g? Are you about to get engaged or anything? Doesn’t she mind your being here?’
‘Caroline?’ Embarrassed, Steve took off his spectacles and rooted in his pocket for a clean handkerchief. Unable to find one, he gave them a quick rub on the end of his tie, then put them back on again. ‘Actually, it’s over. It wasn’t going anywhere. I went with Caro on the rebound because I’d lost you. Got myself tied up in something I never wanted, just as you did. To be honest, it was all a bit of a mess.’
There was a small silence in which they both looked at the baby, at the grey clouds scudding past the window, anywhere but at each other. After a moment, Steve took a breath and said, ‘So, what do you intend to do now?’
Harriet spoke with a determined fierceness. ‘I intend to keep her, no matter what the gossip-mongers of Champion Street say, or what the priest says, or whatever Joyce tries to do.’
Steve smiled. ‘Good for you.’ He looked at her hand, still nestled in both of his, than tenderly kissed each fingertip as he’d used to do in that other time when the love between them had been freely expressed, a vital part of both their lives.
Harriet closed her eyes, as if in pain. ‘Please don’t.’
‘Why not? I still have feelings for you. I’ve never stopped loving you, Harriet.’
‘Oh, Steve.’
‘No, please don’t stop me. I’ve been wanting to say this to you for so long. I know I made a mess of things, not supporting you when you needed me to, always saying the wrong thing, putting my foot in my mouth, then struggling to apologise. I was young and gauche, and stupid. And I understand there was a lot going on, a lot of problems in your life, and that’s why - well, why you went a bit wild and behaved as you did. But I need you to know that I never stopped loving you, and if you still care a little for me, then . . . Well, it’s not too late, is it? I mean . . . Dammit, what I’m trying to say is, that I still want to marry you.’
Harriet looked at him aghast. ‘Stop it, Steve, you don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘I most certainly do.’ All embarrassment had gone from him now, his resolve to win her outweighing any awkwardness. ‘I know it won’t be easy for us, after all that’s happened, but I’m still potty about you. I can’t seem to get you out of my head. Not that I want to. That’s where you belong: in my head, in my life, in my arms. I don’t care if little Michelle is another man’s child, I shall love her because she’s yours. I hope you don’t still have feelings for Vinny Turner.’
‘Of course I don’t.
‘Good, because I want to take care of you. I want you to be my wife.’
Harriet gently tugged her hand away and wrapped her arms tightly about herself, as if for protection. ‘I would never do that to you. It wouldn’t be right. Joyce did something similar when she married my dad. They loved each other too, at first, but it wasn’t enough to get over the fact she was carrying another man’s child. The marriage was a disaster from start to finish, so no, it simply wouldn’t work. Thanks, but no thanks.’ She put up a hand as he was about to speak. ‘No, don’t argue with me, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll cope somehow. I’m certainly not prepared to ruin your life as well as my own.’
‘Do I take it from that convoluted refusal that you do still care for me a little?’
Harriet turned away, her cheeks flushed. ‘That’s not the point.’
‘I think it’s very much the point. I love you, Harriet. Maybe I haven’t said that enough recently, but I do still love you. You’re the only girl for me, and always will be.’
She looked at him then, her eyes swimming with tears. ‘Oh, Steve, what can I say? I’m so afraid of making the wrong decision, of making a mess of things just as Joyce did, of making you unhappy and regret ever having known me.’
He wiped away a tear from her cheek with one finger. ‘I could never do that. We’re not Stan and Joyce. We’re us! I’ve loved you forever, ever since I used to pull your plaits in junior school, and will continue to do so for as long as I live. I know things aren’t easy at home, and if Joyce really is set on having this baby adopted, of making things difficult for you, then why don’t you come and stay at mine for a while? At least give yourself time to think properly about what you want to do.’
Steve made the offer without even considering how his mother might react to this invitation, without even caring. And he still had to explain to her about ending his engagement with Caroline.
Harriet considered her though. ‘And what about your mother?’
‘She’ll be fine about it, once I’ve explained things properly to her. Besides, Mother likes babies.’
‘Oh, Steve, I don’t know. Everything is stacked against us, how can we be sure we’d survive?’
‘We can’t, we can only love each other and hope for the best. Life’s like that, isn’t it?’
‘If I accept your kind offer, to stay at your house, I mean, it’s on the strict understanding that it’s only temporary. I do need time to think, you’re right about that, but the last thing I want to do is to rush headlong into another mistake.’
‘That’s fine. Take as long as you need.’ At least he would have her close by, which would give him the opportunity he needed to convince her of his sincerity. ‘When do they let you out of this place?’
Harriet gave a rueful smile. ‘Next Sunday.’
‘Right, tell me the exact time and I’ll be here with my car to take you home. All I want is for you and this little one to be safe.’ He kissed her then, just as he used to, long and deep, proving the sincerity of his feelings far more than words ever could.
Harriet didn’t find it easy to settle in with the Blackstocks, almost instantly regretting her decision the moment she arrived. Steve’s mother showed her to a small guest room at the top of the house with a face like thunder.
‘I-I really do appreciate this,’ Harriet stuttered, in an attempt to placate her. Didn’t she get enough disapproval from Joyce, without this woman on her case as well? ‘I do assure you, it’s only temporary, till I have time to make more permanent arrangements.’
‘Yes, I can see you would want something more permanent,’ Margaret Blackstock acidly replied.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve no intention of doing anything silly, well, even more silly than I’ve done already, I mean.’ Harriet found herself blushing. ‘I want you to know that I’m not out to trap Steve into marriage. Michelle isn’t even his child.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ his mother interrupted in a voice like ice. ‘And of course he did have a new girl-friend, until you appeared back on the scene. Caroline was a lovely girl, quite delightful. You’ll find clean towels in the bathroom next door. If you need anything else, please let me know.’ Whereupon she marched off and left Harriet to her own devices.
Mention of Steve’s new girl friend unnerved Harriet slightly. Mrs Blackstock clearly was not pleased that Steve had finished with this Caroline. Harriet told herself it probably would have ended anyway and tried not to think about it, or hope for too much as she unpacked her few possessions and tended to Michelle. Since collecting Harriet from the hospital and moving her into his home, Steve had rushed back to college, promising to return the following weekend when they’d have more time to talk.
Relations with his mother did not improve over the following days but Harriet did her best to cope. The atmosphere remained chilly and she opted to stay in her room much of the time, only venturing out for an hour or two each afternoon to take Michelle for a walk in the small, soft-bodied pram Steve had bought for her.
‘I’ve not much money, living as I do on a student grant, but I’ve a bit put by from a summer working for Barry on the fruit and veg stall,’ Steve had informed her.
‘I don’t want to take your money.’ Harriet had valiantly attempted to resist but Steve very reasonably pointed out that she couldn’t carry the baby everywhere, and that she’d need other things too: nappies, nightdresses, vests and stuff.
‘You’ll have to tell me what’s needed.’
&nbs
p; His kindness filled her with fresh guilt, but it was Rose who came to the rescue, taking Harriet shopping and buying all that was necessary for the baby, apart from the pram which Steve insisted on paying for.
‘Joyce might not be prepared to provide you with a home, but you’re still my granddaughter, and this little one is my great-granddaughter, so I’ll see we do right by her.’
To Harriet’s great surprise and gratitude, Mr Blackstock made enquiries about a maternity allowance and made sure she got it. It wasn’t a fortune but would give Harriet a modicum of independence until she found herself a job and a place of her own. Steve didn’t want her to do any such thing, of course, but Harriet had no intention of being dependent on anyone, or rushing into marriage for the wrong reasons, as Joyce had clearly done.
In her heart she knew she still loved Steve as much as she ever had, if not more. And she believed him when he told her that he still loved her. But was love enough? Her experiences of that particular emotion thus far in her short life was that it was largely an unreliable commodity.
Chapter Forty-Two
Margaret Blackstock watched her young guest with close attention. Steve had confessed to her his defection over Caroline. They’d had quite an argument on the subject, Margaret actually accusing her own son of toying with the girl’s emotions. She was most disappointed in him and secretly appalled at the idea of welcoming this young hussy into her house.
Nevertheless, Margaret was nothing if not the perfect hostess, no matter what her private opinion on the moral standards of her guest might be. She provided Harriet with a MIRRO-Matic de luxe electric kettle which would allow her to make herself a cup of tea or coffee whenever she should want one. The girl also had her own bathroom up there on the second floor.
‘You may come down to the kitchen to prepare yourself a meal at any time, and there is a washing machine for Baby’s nappies. You only have to say, and so long as I am not using it, it is all yours.’
Lonely Teardrops (2008) Page 35