by Maggie Hope
‘How are you, Mrs Rain?’ asked Robert, taking off his driving gloves and holding out his hand.
‘Grand, thanks,’ Gran answered.
Karen put out a hand to the wall to steady herself. She couldn’t believe that neither of them had noticed how close she had come to fainting only a second before. She bent her head and stared at the flagged step of the door. Vaguely, she could hear the angry honking of the gander and Gran shooing him away.
‘You don’t look too well, Karen.’
Robert had indeed noticed how white she was. He took her arm. With a great effort of will, she looked up at him and smiled.
‘I’m all right, thank you, Robert.’
‘Howay in, now, you’d better sit down, Karen,’ counselled Gran. ‘We’ll have another cup of tea with Doctor Richardson, anyroad.’
There was speculation in Gran’s eyes, Karen saw, as the old lady glanced from Robert to her granddaughter and back again to Robert.
He said no more, though he kept giving Karen concerned glances as they sat at the table drinking tea. And as soon as they’d finished he suggested they go for a spin in the car.
‘You too, of course, Mrs Rain,’ he said, ‘if you can spare the time, that is?’
‘I cannot. But you can take Karen if you like, it will do her good.’
‘If you’re sure, Gran,’ Karen said doubtfully, ‘but I think I’d rather go for a walk than a ride, Robert.’ In truth, she was worried the car might make her nausea return. A walk would be better.
They walked along the track a little way and cut across the fell to the little wooded ghyll hidden in a fold of the moor. It was a favourite walk of Karen’s and she loved the way it suddenly revealed itself as they walked near, by the sparkle of the burn tumbling down the steep, wooded side of the ravine.
‘It’s beautiful,’ commented Robert, looking at the bird cherry which grew in profusion between the outcrops of limestone.
‘It is,’ agreed Karen. ‘I’ve always loved it here.’
She showed him a rare wild orchid and pointed out the ‘cuckoo pint’; they even found wild arum, its purple flower spike shielded by a pale green hood.
‘Let’s sit awhile,’ he said.
Robert took her hand and led her to an outcrop of rock which had been smoothed by the weather to a broad fiat top. He saw her seated and sat down beside her and for a few minutes they stayed in a silence broken only by the murmur of the stream, the ‘chackchack’ of the jackdaws as they swooped about the sky, and the strange cry of the peewits circling over their nests.
‘Why didn’t you tell me, Karen?’ asked Robert.
‘Tell you?’ She was startled. Had Sean said something to him after all? She trembled. ‘Tell you about what?’
‘The baby.’
She looked up at him quickly. How did he know? The question must have shown in her eyes for he answered it.
‘I can see you are pregnant, Karen. Why didn’t you tell me when we met in the village? Why did you let me think there was a chance for me? Who is he, Karen? Is he going to marry you?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Robert, really I am. I couldn’t tell you – I didn’t want to hurt you. I like you too much for that. But yes, it’s true, I am going to have a baby, that’s the real reason I have come home. And no, I am not going to marry the father.’
Robert stood up abruptly and walked to the side of the tiny stream. He picked up a pebble and flung it into the water. Karen watched him dumbly.
‘Who was it? The father, I mean.’ Robert continued to stare into the water, keeping his back to her. ‘Was it a soldier? Has he been killed? Is that what happened, Karen?’ Already he was searching for excuses for her behaviour, she thought numbly.
‘No, nothing like that.’ How could she tell him about it? How to tell him she had fallen in love with a Roman Catholic priest, tell him her lover could not possibly marry her?
Robert turned to face her. ‘He left you then. He made you promises and then left you. When he found out about the baby coming, was it?’
‘No, no, it wasn’t like that,’ cried Karen.
‘No, it never is. Oh, Karen, don’t you think I haven’t heard this tale a dozen times before? A girl comes to me and begs me to help her. She always thinks her case is different, she’s not like those other girls who get caught.’ He sighed. ‘And now, with this war, it happens more and more. Tell me who it was and I’ll seek him out, make him do the right thing by you.’
His voice was hard and bitter, impersonal almost. Karen held out her hand to him.
‘Robert, Robert, leave it alone. I can’t tell you who the father is. I can only say that he can never marry me, never.’
‘He’s married then?’
‘No, he’s not married. I can’t tell you what it is, Robert.’ She got to her feet and walked towards him, gazing up into his handsome face, seeing the hurt in his eyes.
‘Come on, let’s walk a little more. Let’s not talk about it,’ she said, and he took her arm and helped her up the bank side.
They strolled past the old lead mine workings where so many of Karen’s ancestors had toiled. The scars on the earth and the fallen stone of the buildings were faded now; they blended into the landscape as though they had been there as long as the limestone outcrop beside them. Only the song of the skylark disturbed the silence as they walked, Robert keeping a distance of a few feet between them. Eventually he stopped walking and turned completely away from her, gazing out over the moor, straight-backed and still. Karen watched him, biting her lip. She didn’t know what to say to him. She felt guilty for causing him such pain, he made her feel morally inadequate. She had not realized his love for her was so strong and she knew she should have done. But after all these years, surely his feelings for her should have weakened?
‘Robert?’
Her voice was tremulous, uncertain. His shoulders shook silently. Dear God, she thought, was he so upset? Surely there was nothing so special about her that a man like Robert should love her so much? She remembered Sean telling her she had ruined Robert’s life; how at the time she had thought that to be an exaggeration.
Robert began walking again and she followed him. They crossed the rough grass to the track which led to Low Rigg and soon they were by the gates of the farm. He paused and she looked up at him anxiously, noting that his face was composed now, the high colour gone. The sun was high in the sky and she could feel the spring warmth of it on her face and he, ever solicitous, drew her under the shade of the rowan tree.
‘Karen,’ he said, taking her hand in his, ‘there is only one solution to this. You must marry me.’
‘Marry you?’ she echoed him, her eyes widening in surprise, and shook her head. Oh, no, she couldn’t marry him, she couldn’t do that to him. Robert halted her refusal before even it was spoken.
‘You must, Karen. For the sake of the child. I would be a good father to your child, Karen.’
He has a father! she wanted to shout at him. She didn’t want any other father for her baby but Patrick.
‘Think about it, Karen, don’t say no immediately. I know you are thinking of me, how it would affect my life if I married you and a baby came in just a few months. But I have broad shoulders, and the gossip will soon die down.’
Karen felt even more guilty than before. She hadn’t even considered the effect such a marriage would have on him, both in his life as a doctor and as a local preacher. All she’d thought about was herself, she wasn’t even considering what it would be like for her baby to be labelled a bastard.
‘Robert, I don’t know what to say,’ she whispered.
‘Don’t say anything now. If we marry we should do it as soon as possible, I know, but another week won’t matter. Think about it, Karen, pray to the Lord about it. I know he will put it in your heart to do the right thing. I’ll go now, leave you to come to a decision.’
Gran came out of the door of the house, and seeing them standing there by the rowan tree, walked over to them.
; ‘Are you staying for a bite of dinner, Doctor Richardson? We have plenty and you’re very welcome. If you don’t mind lamb and barley broth, that is.’
Robert dropped Karen’s hand and smiled courteously at the older woman. ‘It’s very kind of you, Mrs Rain, I would have loved to stay. But I’m afraid I have to leave. Work, you know.’
‘Well, if you have to go, you have to,’ said Gran. ‘I’ll say goodbye then, lad, it was nice of you to call. I have to work an’ all, there’s the stock to see to.’ She nodded her head and walked back to the house and around the side to the back.
Robert waited until she was out of earshot before turning back to Karen and taking her hand. ‘You will think seriously about my offer, won’t you? Even if you can’t feel for me the way I feel for you, we could be happy together, I know we could, Karen. And then there’s the child, think of the child.’
‘Please, Robert, don’t press me. It’s too soon,’ begged Karen. ‘I can’t think properly about anything just now, I need time.’
‘But that’s it. There just isn’t any time, is there? With the child …’ He broke off what he was saying when he saw the hunted expression on her face. ‘No, you’re right, I shouldn’t press you now, I know I shouldn’t. I’ll go, but you’ll let me come back next week, won’t you? Perhaps you’ll give me my answer then?’
‘Robert, I don’t know, I really don’t. Everything is such a muddle in my head. Go on, go home, you’ll be late for surgery.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry. Of course I’ll go. Just …’ He moved closer to her and bent his head and she lifted her face to him, thinking he was going to kiss her on the cheek. But evidently he thought better of it for he turned abruptly to his car. He started the engine with his starting handle and when it fired he climbed into the driving seat before smiling ruefully at her. ‘Goodbye, Karen. God keep you safe until I come back.’
She stared after him as the car laboured up the track and disappeared round the bend. Dear God, she agonized, why couldn’t I have loved him? Why is everything so complicated? Slowly, she walked back to the house. Gran was in the kitchen boiling up vegetable peelings for the pigs. She looked up as Karen came in and gave her a shrewd glance.
‘I knew fine and well that lad has a fondness for you,’ she observed. ‘It’s there for anyone to see.’
‘Oh, Gran, don’t,’ said Karen helplessly. ‘Robert is just a good friend, that’s all.’
‘Aye, I’m sure. But remember, lass, it’s hard bringing up a bairn on your own. You could do worse than marry a lad like Robert Richardson. There’s many a one has to settle for the one they can get, not the one they want. It usually works out fine in the end.’
Chapter Nineteen
SURELY PATRICK FEELS as I do? thought Karen. He could not cut her out of his life, forget about her altogether. He loved her, she knew it in her being. It was you ran away from him, not he from you, she told herself. You don’t want him to come, you know it will ruin his life. Forget, that was what she had to do, forget all about him.
She was standing by the yard gate. Beside her the rowan tree was coming into full leaf. It was summer already, the winds were light and warm. But still she couldn’t stop her heart racing every time she heard the familiar rumble of the cart or the roar of an engine on the road at the end of the track.
She couldn’t help the aching need within her either, the deep physical ache which sometimes threatened to consume her. She placed her hands on her stomach and concentrated on the baby. At least she had the baby, Patrick’s son. Or maybe his daughter, a girl who would look at her with Patrick’s clear grey eyes ringed with dark lashes, and that way she would always have something of Patrick with her.
On Saturday Robert came back to see her and they drove down into Stanhope and on, across the ford over the River Wear and up the steep fell-side to Bollihope Common, the great breadth of moorland which divides Weardale from Teesdale. He stopped the car about halfway between the dales and they sat quietly, looking out over miles and miles of heather and bracken to where the distant horizon lay shrouded in a shimmering mist. Robert had put down the car hood and Karen could feel the sun on her head and neck, pleasantly warm. Sheep baa-ed all around them as they cropped the turf which edged the heather and a curlew cried mournfully close by. They were too near to its nest probably, thought Karen abstractedly, it was worried. Its cry sounded so human, so sad, it brought ready tears to her eyes.
Quickly she looked out over the moor, away from Robert, until the moment passed. A peewit flew low over the ground only a few yards away, trying to draw the intruders away from its nest. It too was worried for its young. And what of her young? She had the baby to think of. She had to provide for it and protect it, even though Patrick was gone from her life. Oh, why had she listened to Sean? Why had she not stayed a little longer at least? She and Patrick were meant to be together. Dear God, she cried silently, give me strength.
‘Karen?’
She looked at Robert who was turned sideways in his seat, watching her anxiously. ‘If you are sure you want me, I’ll marry you, Robert,’ she said. ‘But I have to be sure you want the baby an’ all, you can see that, can’t you?’
Robert smiled and the smile lit up his face so that it glowed. He took hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips. His kiss was as soft as thistledown.
‘The baby is part of you, isn’t it?’ he murmured. ‘How can I not want your baby?’ He drew her to him and held her close, kissing her lips. His arms were strong about her and he smelled cleanly masculine and familiar. She closed her eyes and leaned against him. Oh, it was good to have a man such as Robert to lean on, and she would play her part, she wouldn’t let him down, oh no, she would not. She could feel his heartbeat against her breast and he ran his hand up and down her spine. His breathing quickened and suddenly his hand was on her breast, cupping it, and his thumb brushed across the nipple. Abruptly, instinctively, she pulled away from him, as far away as she could get, and huddled against the door of the car. For he was not Patrick.
‘Karen? I’m sorry, really I am. I got carried away …’ Robert’s voice trailed into silence. She forced herself to sit up and move into a more natural position beside him, giving him a tremulous smile as she did so.
‘Are your breasts sore? I’m sorry, I should have known they would be with the baby. It was just … oh, I’m so happy Karen, this is the happiest day of my life. I got carried away, I’m sorry.’
‘They are sore,’ she said, jumping at the excuse. ‘But don’t be sorry, Robert, please. You have nothing to be sorry about.’
‘Let’s go down into Barnard Castle and buy the ring,’ he said, reassured. He started the car and they set off across the moor, descending slightly all the way now as they moved closer to Teesdale. ‘We’ll have to begin planning now, won’t we?’
Karen felt herself carried along on his enthusiasm and indeed it was pleasant for her to leave everything to him and relax. But she still had a feeling of guilt, as though she was taking an unfair advantage of his love for her.
‘I’ll make you a good wife, really I will,’ she said impulsively and reached out and put her hand on his arm.
They got to the jeweller’s just before closing time and chose a ring.
‘I don’t want a betrothal ring, please, Robert,’ she whispered urgently to him when he began looking at a tray of diamond rings in the window. ‘A wedding ring, that’s all, please.’
He smiled euphorically. ‘Anything you say, my love. I can always buy you a diamond ring later.’
They decided on a plain gold band and the jeweller put it in a box which Robert stowed in his waistcoat pocket.
‘We’ll call the banns tomorrow,’ he said as they drove back up the moor. ‘I’ll speak to Father tonight. We can be married in three weeks.’
Three weeks! Panic fluttered in Karen, almost closing her throat. ‘Maybe we should wait a week or two,’ she managed to say.
‘Best do it now. Don’t worry, dearest, everything will be fine.
I will look after you now.’
‘But I have no proof that Dave is dead.’ Relief swept over Karen. She couldn’t get married unless she could prove her first husband was dead, could she?
‘I’ll telephone Australia House tomorrow,’ Robert answered cheerfully. ‘I’ll ask them to confirm the death in writing, there should not be any trouble.’
They drove across the ford at Stanhope and on up to the farm. As they came into the yard they saw Gran standing in the doorway.
‘So you’re back,’ she called over to them, ‘have you had a good time?’
‘We have indeed, Mrs Rain, and we have news –’ Robert broke off what he was saying as the sound of a cart coming round the bend in the track made them all turn to look.
‘The carrier,’ said Gran. ‘He’s late today. Someone with him an’ all. Eeh, two visitors in one day, aren’t we doing well?’
Karen didn’t hear her, she was standing stock still, her face frozen.
‘Mind the cart, Karen.’
Robert grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back towards the rowan tree, out of the way. The cart trundled past them and she followed its path, her gaze riveted on the passenger in the front seat.
Not again, she was thinking dully, not again. Her senses must be deceiving her and she couldn’t bear it: that the elation should rise in her only to fall flat as a stone when she realized she was mistaken. She had forgotten Robert altogether. All she could see was the stranger in the dark suit, tall, black-haired, slimly built. The cart came to a halt and she watched him climb down and stand quietly beside it, his eyes only for her. She was not mistaken this time.
‘Who’s this?’ said Gran. She looked at the stranger and then at her granddaughter and was taken aback by Karen’s expression. She glanced quickly at Robert and away again; his distress showed much too plainly for outsiders to see. He too was watching Karen as she stared at the new arrival. Gran felt desperately sorry for Robert. It had only been a few seconds and the carrier hadn’t noticed anything as yet, he was busy fitting a nosebag of oats to his horse.