by Maggie Hope
‘Now,’ he said, ‘tell me all about it.’ He was quiet and controlled again, his profile stern and dark, the happy excitement all gone from him.
‘It’s Dave. You remember Dave Mitchell from Morton Main, don’t you?’
Robert nodded and gave a small bitter laugh. ‘Oh, yes, I remember David Mitchell. How could I forget the boy who made my life a misery in the village? I might have known it would be David Mitchell.’
Karen bit her lip. It was true, Dave had been a one for tormenting boys who were different. And certainly Robert had been different from the other boys in the village. She remembered now that Dave had had a nick-name for him. What was it? Saint Bob, that was it. She remembered Dave and his cronies shouting it after Robert as he walked home from school, his shoulders hunched defensively. And she remembered how she had burned for him to retaliate. He was bigger and older than Dave. If he had turned on his persecutor, Dave would have left him alone.
‘Well? Go on,’ Robert prompted her.
Karen wasn’t going to tell him of Dave’s desertion. She had not even called it that to anyone as yet. But it was almost two years now and somehow when she started talking about him the whole story came out: how he had gone away to Australia and simply disappeared, shaking her off along with his old life.
‘We were only married for a few weeks before he went and I was going to follow as soon as I finished my training. I never heard from him again. He wrote to his mother at first but even she hasn’t heard from him for over a year.’
Robert said nothing. The only sound was the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the cobblestones. Karen stared out of the window, unseeing.
‘Well, we’d better get back to the hospital,’ Robert said at last, his voice flat.
‘You won’t say anything to Matron, will you?’ Karen asked tremulously. ‘I only have a few weeks now. I’ll go to another hospital when I have my certificate.’
‘You’re living a lie, Karen,’ he said.
‘Oh, please, Robert! Please don’t give me away.’
The cab reached the hospital gates and he handed her down.
‘Robert?’
‘I won’t give you away. As you say, it is only for a few weeks,’ he said and made to walk away before abruptly turning back to her.
‘Oh, Karen, how could you? How could you marry a blackguard like David Mitchell?’ he cried. Then, without waiting for an answer, he strode rapidly away from her.
She hurried up the drive with tears streaming down her face. Oh, she was a terrible, unfeeling woman to hurt such a good man as Robert Richardson. She had told herself it was all innocent but she knew in her heart she had been leading him on, she had. She had thought she could go out with him tonight and have a grand dinner and then tell him about Dave. And now look what she’d done. She was a terrible bad woman, she was, and Mam and Gran would be horrified if they knew of it. And Da … Karen didn’t like to think what he would say.
Next day Robert was polite but distant when they met in the course of their work, his face closed up tight. Gradually, over the next few weeks, Karen stopped wanting to hide away whenever she saw him and they formed a polite, though constrained, working relationship.
She spent all of her spare time in her room, studying for her finals, and began to consider looking for work in another area, away from the North-East and Robert and her memories of Dave. She was not really needed by the family; Kezia coped wonderfully and even their mother seemed to be fairly fit and well. She was finished with men, Karen decided. From now on she would concentrate on her career. She was a good nurse with a lot to offer any hospital.
Kezia’s baby was born at the end of October, a fine boy. Karen went to see him on her day off, the first time she had been home for some weeks thanks to her studying. But now her finals were behind her and she had her Certificate of Competence.
‘He’s grand, isn’t he, Karen?’ Kezia, sitting up in bed with her baby in her arms, lifted him up so that Karen could see him properly.
She looked at the tiny red bundle and agreed with her sister. She took hold of the tiny fist and wondered what it would have been like if Dave had stayed, if it had been herself proudly holding her first baby. But she pushed the thought away. This was Kezia’s day and she was very happy for her sister.
‘We want you to be godmother, don’t we, Luke?’ said Kezia, and he nodded his head, beaming, willing to agree to anything his wife suggested.
The baby was to be named Luke also and already was being called Young Luke to distinguish him from his father. It was a proud and happy day with the family all gathered round, Gran too, down from the dale for the day.
‘I’ll have to be getting back,’ said Karen after a while. ‘I’m on duty tonight. But I’ll get down more often now that I’ve got my certificate. I won’t be studying so much.’
‘I’ll walk to the end of the street with you,’ said Mam, and Karen knew she wanted a quiet word.
‘Your Da’s that proud of you getting your certificate, our Karen,’ said Rachel as they walked up the row, adding anxiously, ‘You won’t try going off to Australia to look for Dave, now will you, pet?’
‘No, Mam, I won’t. That’s over. He must not want me or he would have written so I’m not going chasing after him. Anyway, I doubt I’d find him, it’s a big country, you know. No, I’ll stop in England, Mam, don’t worry about that.’ She hesitated for a moment before continuing, ‘I might go down south, though. I saw an advertisement for a hospital in Essex in the Newcastle Chronicle. You won’t mind that, will you? I will still be able to come home every year. I want to get away, Mam, what with Dave leaving me like that. I want to make a fresh start.’
‘Eeh, Karen, I can’t say we won’t miss you, pet. But we understand how you feel. Mebbe it will be for the best.’ Rachel kissed her and patted her on the shoulder. ‘Now go on or you’ll be late back at that hospital of yours,’ she said firmly, and turned back down the row.
It was after Karen had said goodbye to her mother and was waiting for the horse bus to the station that she saw Mrs Mitchell. Dave’s mother was walking along on her way back from the shops, basket in hand and an old woollen shawl clutched round her chest. She marched up to Karen and stood squarely in front of her. Karen smiled tentatively but this was ignored.
‘I suppose you’ve been to see Kezia’s new babby then?’ Mrs Mitchell demanded. ‘You weren’t going to come and see me, I gather.’
‘Hallo, Mrs Mitchell. No, I’m sorry, I haven’t got much time. I have to get back,’ Karen excused herself.
The older woman sniffed. ‘It doesn’t matter to you that it’s your fault I’m left on my own, does it? No, you don’t give a tinker’s cuss.’
‘My fault? Why is it my fault?’ Karen was stung into replying.
‘It was your fault, all right. It was you drove my lad away, wasn’t it? Leaving a poor widow woman all on her own like. You’d only been married a few weeks. What did you do to my lad to drive him to the other side of the world, that’s what I want to know?’
‘I didn’t – it was Dave wanted to go, I wanted him to stay –’
But Mrs Mitchell wasn’t listening to Karen. She went on and on, her voice getting louder and louder, until folk in the street began taking notice and Karen wished fervently that the bus would turn up and she could get away.
‘By, if I’d known what would happen I’d have stopped my lad marrying a bitch like you! Turned him against his own mother, you did, not content with driving him away. I haven’t had a letter from him for long enough, God knows what has happened to the poor lad. I can’t sleep at nights thinking about him and worrying.’
‘Mrs Mitchell, I can’t help it if he’s lost touch with you, can I?’
‘No? He hasn’t got in touch with you, has he? No, because he wanted rid of you, that’s what. And I daresay he’s stopped writing to me in case you find out where he is from me. Me, his own mother! And I was saving up to go out and see him, mebbe make a home for him like, poor lad.�
��
Mrs Mitchell folded her arms and glared, thrusting her face to within an inch of Karen’s nose. ‘You couldn’t be a proper wife to my lad and now I have to suffer for it. Oh, it’s all right for you, away to your posh job in Newcastle, but what about me, eh?’
Karen was saved the necessity of replying as the horse bus drew up and she climbed aboard. A small crowd had gathered, mostly women with shopping baskets on their arms; they were drinking in every word avidly. This would provide plenty to talk about in the back rows for days and days. As the bus drew away Karen could hear her mother-in-law declaiming to the interested onlookers, nodding her head emphatically and shaking her fist after the bus.
I will get away, she vowed to herself as she stared straight ahead, ignoring the amused glances of her fellow passengers. I’ll apply for the first post I see which is as far away from here as I can get.
When she returned to the village for young Luke’s baptism on the Sunday before Christmas 1913 she had already left the Royal Victoria Infirmary and had secured a post as a staff nurse at Oldchurch Hospital in Romford in the county of Essex. Karen had never been in the South of England in her life and had only sketchy knowledge of Romford or Essex, but she didn’t care. It was hundreds of miles from County Durham and that was all that mattered to her.
The day was sunny but crisp and cold and Young Luke was bundled up in two shawls over his christening gown so that only the lace hem peeped out. It was the robe which Gran had embroidered for her first-born. All the Knights had worn it in their turn and now Young Luke was the first of the new generation to be baptized in it. They set out for the church, Karen carrying the sleeping baby, watched anxiously by Kezia.
The proud father had his hands full too, for he was to offer the first person they met on the way to Chapel a piece of christening cake and a shiny new threepenny bit. The old custom was solemnly carried out to the delight of the young boy who was lucky enough to turn into the row at just the right moment.
‘I asked if Mr Richardson would baptize the baby,’ whispered Kezia. ‘He’s friendly with the new Minister, you know, and we all liked him when he was here.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Karen said absently as they took their seats at the front of the congregation. She was concentrating on holding the baby correctly and at the same time enjoying the sensation of having the tiny new life in her arms.
The service went well, Young Luke sleeping through the whole of it, and it wasn’t until afterwards when friends were crowding round to coo over the baby that Karen looked up straight into the eyes of Robert.
‘Hello, Karen,’ he said softly.
‘Oh – Robert,’ she answered, his appearance taking her by surprise though it was perfectly natural for him to come with his father.
‘I wanted to see you before you go away,’ he said. She glanced up at him. He looked pale and unhappy. The chatter and laughter of the christening party seemed to recede into the background, leaving the two of them standing alone. Karen didn’t know what to say; she had thought she had got over her feelings about him but here she was again, feeling like a guilty schoolgirl.
‘Er – it was a nice service,’ she said at last, a remark he didn’t seem to even hear. Bending his head to hers he spoke in a low, urgent tone of voice.
‘Karen, I wanted to say I’m sorry if I made you unhappy. I thought about it afterwards and I realize you didn’t mean me any harm.’
‘Oh, no –’ she began but he was rushing on. Taking her arm, he drew her slightly away from the company.
‘Have you heard anything from Mitchell?’
Karen shook her head. ‘No, and I don’t think I will. I realize now he wanted to get away from me. He never wanted me.’ She stared down at the ground. It was a hard thing for her to admit even now, her pride was so badly dented.
‘Karen, I still care for you,’ said Robert. ‘I would wait for you. Do you know that in a few years, if you don’t hear any more from him, you can have him declared dead? I would wait, my dear, no matter how long it takes.’
Karen looked at him helplessly. What could she say that wouldn’t hurt him more? At that moment there was a buzz of voices. The christening party was breaking up and moving towards the door so she was saved the necessity of replying to Robert bar a quick noncommittal word.
‘Howay, Karen, it’s for you to carry the baby home,’ cried Kezia, walking over to them and depositing Young Luke in Karen’s arms before turning to Robert. ‘You’ll come back to the house with your father for a cup of tea, won’t you?’
‘It’s good of you to ask me, but I have to get back to the hospital, I’m afraid,’ he answered. ‘I should have been on my way already.’ He walked rapidly away up the row, leaving Kezia and Karen gazing after him.
‘A surgical registrar leads a busy life,’ murmured Karen and Kezia nodded, forgetting about him. But Gran had noticed and as they were walking back down Chapel Row she fell into step alongside Karen. She gazed curiously at her granddaughter.
‘You and Mr Richardson’s son were thick enough there, weren’t you? What were you talking about?’ she asked baldly.
‘Oh, it was about a patient,’ Karen answered. ‘Robert’s at the RVI, you know. I nursed some of his patients.’
‘Hmm,’ said Gran. ‘He looks as though a few home-cooked dinners would do him good, he’s that thin and pale. Mebbe he’s working too hard during the week and then having to rush back on a Sunday night, like.’
‘You can’t just leave patients because it’s Sunday, Gran,’ Karen pointed out.
‘No, I know that.’ She was quiet for a few moments before startling Karen with her next remark. ‘Well, I don’t think it’s just overwork that’s the matter with him. I think he looks like a lad who’s in love – and not happily at that.’
Chapter Six
‘ROBERT!’ CRIED KAREN. ‘I thought you were in Africa!’
They stared at each other for a minute in the half-dark of the November afternoon, busy crowds of shoppers swirling round them. She was unable to take her eyes from him, he looked so ill, his skin a parchment yellow and his eyes sunk into his head. But his smile was as warm and bright as it had ever been as he took her hand in his. His own hand felt hot and dry and bonier somehow, so that she felt a spasm of anxiety for him.
‘I’ve been back for a few weeks now,’ he said. ‘Oh, Karen, it is good to see you. What a good thing I decided to come into Bishop Auckland this afternoon. But I understood you were having a great career in Essex? That’s what Father said. And here you are, back again.’
‘Robert, are you all right?’ she couldn’t help herself asking, hardly hearing what he was saying she was so disturbed by his appearance.
‘Oh, yes, I am now. Take no notice of how I look. I know I’m enough to frighten the children at the moment but I’ll improve now I’m back. I’m all the better for seeing you, Karen, it’s as good as a tonic.’
‘Robert?’
For the first time, Karen realized there was someone with him. Another man moved forward, smiling politely, and Karen noticed he wore a clerical collar. In the split second before Robert apologized and introduced them, Karen noticed that there was a similarity between the two men, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. It certainly wasn’t physical, for the stranger was shorter than Robert and fairly ordinary-looking. She dismissed the fancy from her mind as they shook hands.
‘This is Father Donelly, Karen, a great friend of mine. We met in Africa. Sean, meet Sister Knight. Karen and I are old friends.’
Robert beamed at them both but Karen was still watching him closely. Oh dear, he didn’t look at all well.
‘I didn’t expect you to come home so soon, Robert,’ she said, trying to cover up her worry at seeing him look so ill.
He pulled a wry face. ‘No, I didn’t expect to be back either. Look, let’s go into the tea-room at the Co-op and talk over a cup of tea. We can tell each other everything that has happened since we saw each other.’
‘Look, I�
��ll be off now, you two don’t want me with –’
‘Nonsense,’ Robert interrupted the priest. ‘We’ll all go in and have a cup of tea and a warm. I know you’re not in a hurry, Sean, come on now.’ He took Karen’s arm in one hand and Sean’s in the other and marched them into the tea-room.
They found a corner table and Karen watched Robert covertly. He had an air of bubbly cheerfulness very different from his usual quiet manner as he caught the eye of the waitress and ordered tea and toasted teacakes.
‘Now,’ he said when their order came and Karen had poured out the tea, ‘you first. Tell me all about your work. I hear that everyone in the village is proud of the way you’ve got on. What are you doing in Auckland? You haven’t got the sack, have you?’
Karen laughed. ‘Not exactly. Just moving on – the war, you know. Next week I start a new post at a military hospital near Romford.’
‘Oh, I say, that’s good, isn’t it? Don’t you think so, Sean?’
Father Donelly nodded politely. He sat quietly, looking from Robert to herself, a slight curiosity in his eyes.
‘Well, it’s just a small hospital, converted from a manor house or some such – Greenfields is the name. I’ll be in charge during the nights,’ she said deprecatingly, though in fact she was quite proud of making such good progress in her career. After all, it was just about a year since she’d been promoted to Ward Sister.
‘Small or not, I’m sure you’ve done very well,’ declared Robert, and she smiled at him.
‘Greenfields in Essex?’ asked Father Donelly. ‘Is that near Romford? Do you know, I have a friend there, from my seminary days –Murphy’s his name. Isn’t that a coincidence? Perhaps you’ll meet him. If you do, mention my name.’
Robert suddenly put down his cup with a little clatter of china which made the other two glance quickly at him. He was white and trembling and a slight perspiration had broken out on his forehead.