Tangled Threads

by Margaret Dickinson

  For a moment Josh looked startled. ‘Oh no, I don’t think so. I’ve signed. Er – um – sort of proxy, or whatever they call it.’

  He seemed to be avoiding meeting her direct gaze now. Eveleen glanced at her mother’s ecstatic face and decided to say no more – for the present.

  Later, in the yard, she cornered Josh.

  ‘Now, Josh Carpenter, I want the truth and I want it now.’

  ‘What do you mean, Eveleen?’

  ‘Josh, don’t take me for a fool. With the greatest respect, there’s no way someone like you could save enough money to buy a place like this. Oh I know you had a good job at the factory, but you’d never earn enough there if you worked till you were a hundred.’

  ‘I – I’ve never had anyone to spend my money on, Eveleen. I – I’ve saved.’

  ‘So why spend it all on giving comparative strangers their old home back?’

  Now she could see that she was hurting him, but she drove on relentlessly. She had to know the truth, and she was sure that the story that Josh Carpenter had bought the property, land and animals was not the truth.

  ‘You’re not strangers, Eveleen. Please don’t say that. I’m very fond of you both, and little Bridie, too. I wanted to see your mother happy again.’ His eyes had a haunted look for an instant, then he said hesitantly, ‘Don’t laugh at me, Eveleen, but I was rather hoping that one day your mother might consent to become my wife.’

  Eveleen felt ashamed. The sincerity in the man’s statement was apparent. She could see it in his eyes. But she saw also that he had craftily turned her attention away from the financial side to the more personal and emotional side, of which there could be no doubt in her mind.

  She sighed and shook her head. ‘I’m not laughing. I’m sure you’d make her very happy.’

  ‘I know she’d make me the happiest man alive,’ he said, smiling now, some of the loneliness chased from his eyes.

  Softly Eveleen said, ‘But you’re still not telling me the truth about how you bought this place, are you? I know why now and I believe you. But I don’t believe that you’ve bought it.’

  Josh fidgeted and shifted uncomfortably. He ran his hand over his forehead and Eveleen could see that there were beads of sweat standing on his brow.

  ‘All right, all right, I’ll tell you the truth. But you’ve to promise me one thing first. That you won’t do anything about it. You won’t cause trouble. And especially that you’ll never, ever, tell your mother.’

  Slowly, she nodded, but the truth was becoming clear to her, even as Josh began to explain.

  I was right. It’s not Josh who’s bought our home for us at all. It’s him. He’s behind all this.

  She heard the words coming out of Josh’s mouth, but now she could scarcely take it in. Her mind was reeling, the world spinning around her. She felt dizzy and sick.

  How could she live with this, knowing that he, of all people, owned the house they lived in?

  Fifty-Nine

  ‘You’re being very selfish.’

  Richard Stokes was now sitting behind the desk that had once been Josh Carpenter’s.

  Eveleen, her eyes blazing and her mouth tight, leant across the wide expanse and shook her fist in his face. ‘Don’t you dare to tell me what I am. Aren’t I giving up my whole life to taking care of my mother and Rebecca’s child? I made a promise to her and I meant to keep it. I’ll be the one to take her back to Bernby, not you.’

  ‘Of course you would have kept your promise and taken her back home,’ he said smoothly, but he added pointedly, ‘one day.’

  ‘Oh you know how to dig the knife in, don’t you? Well, if you and your condescending father paid better wages, I might have managed it a bit quicker.’

  He rose and came round the desk to stand close to her. In so doing, he placed himself between Eveleen and the door so that she could not flounce off before he had said what he intended to say.

  ‘I didn’t want you to know about any of this and I’ll give Josh Carpenter a piece of my mind when I see him.’ The twinkle in his eyes belied the threat. ‘But since you know part of it, you’d better know the rest.’

  ‘The rest? What do you mean, the rest?’

  ‘Won’t you sit down?’

  ‘I’d rather stand, thank you.’

  ‘Very well.’

  There was tension between them and a spark that had nothing to do with Eveleen’s anger, yet she held on to that indignation. That was why her pulse was racing and her legs felt weak. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was standing so close to her she could have reached out and touched his face, traced the line of his strong jaw, smoothed back the unruly lock of black hair that fell on to his forehead, drowned in those dark eyes . . .

  ‘We did it for your mother as much as for you. More so, really.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘My father and I.’

  Eveleen was stunned to silence.

  ‘My father feels very guilty about what happened years ago.’

  Eveleen found her voice. ‘So he should,’ she muttered.

  ‘Even though,’ Richard went on firmly, ignoring her remark, ‘he knew nothing about your mother’s pregnancy and the tragedy that followed at the time. Now he wants to try to make amends as much as he can.’

  ‘And what would your mother say to all that?’ Eveleen asked sarcastically. ‘If she knew.’

  ‘She does know. My mother is a wonderful lady and very understanding.’ His words were like a rebuke to Eveleen. ‘My father told her everything. About how much he had loved your mother, had wanted to marry her, but because they were so young he had bided his time, hoping that when he reached his majority, he could go his own way.’

  ‘But he went away. He left her,’ Eveleen argued, still unwilling to believe that Brinsley Stokes had been entirely ignorant and therefore also completely innocent.

  ‘He was only nineteen and thought it politic to obey his family’s wishes until he was twenty-one. But when he came back home, your mother had disappeared. He searched for her, but never found her. He waited for more than a year, hoping she would come back, but then he came to the conclusion that she had gone away – just like her family said she had – because she no longer loved him.’

  Eveleen was struggling with her conscience. For so long she had believed that Brinsley had deliberately and callously deserted her mother when she had needed him the most, and yet . . .

  ‘You don’t believe me, do you?’

  ‘I . . . I want to. Really I do, but . . .’

  With great understanding, he said softly, ‘But you’ve lived all your life with your version of the story and you cannot change.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not that long, I knew nothing about it at all until we went to Flawford. My father must have known.’ Vividly she recalled his evasive answers to her probing questions. ‘But we – Jimmy and me – we didn’t.’

  ‘It’s hardly the sort of thing a mother would like to tell her children, is it?’

  Eveleen met his gaze. For a young man, not much older than she was, he was very kind and understanding. Or was it only a fac¸ade? Would this kind, generous face dissolve into twisted disdain if he didn’t get his own way?

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’ he asked gently.

  She jumped at how accurately he had gauged her thoughts. Trust? How could she trust any man after what had happened to her? She had trusted Stephen Dunsmore. She had even trusted her own brother and so had poor, naïve Rebecca and look where that had got her.

  ‘I know you’ve been hurt,’ he was saying and his tone hardened as he added, ‘and I think I’ve now met the man who hurt you so, but haven’t there been others in your life who haven’t hurt you? People who have loved you and cared for you and about you? What about your father and those nice people at Bernby? Bill and Dorothy. Their affection for you was plain to see.’

  It was as if a door opened in her mind. His gentle prompting caused her to think about the other men she had known in her young lif
e.

  Her father. But that was different. Of course her father had loved and cared for her and had never let her down. But Rebecca’s father hadn’t, a little voice reminded her. When Rebecca had needed him the most, he had turned his face from her.

  And then the others queued up in her mind’s eye, demanding to be remembered.

  Bill Morton, who had stood by the Hardcastle family, perhaps even jeopardizing his own job by doing so. Then Andrew Burns. How could she ever doubt his selfless devotion to Rebecca and, now, to Bridie? And Josh. Josh Carpenter, whom everyone ridiculed, had a heart of gold. He wasn’t a lecherous figure of fun. He was wonderfully kind and caring. And a very lonely man.

  And yet he had readily been party to deception. He had deceived her into thinking he had brought about their good fortune.

  Richard was watching her. Perhaps he was even reading on her face the signs of her inner struggle. He moved closer.

  ‘Won’t you forgive us? You must see that if we had told you the truth, you would never have agreed to it.’

  That was true, Eveleen was forced to admit.

  ‘What about Josh?’ she burst out. ‘Was that all a lie too?’

  Richard frowned, obviously puzzled. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Once he’s got my mother installed in the country, is he going to leave her?’

  The puzzled expression was replaced by one of understanding and then of gentle sadness. ‘One day, I’ll make the man who’s hurt you so much pay for what he’s done.’ Richard’s mouth tightened. ‘Believe me, I’ll make him pay. But as for Josh,’ he shook his head. ‘No, he’s not going to abandon your mother. He’s a happy man. A very happy man. You’ll see. Over the next few weeks and months, he’ll have shed several pounds and be as fit as a fiddle.’ He moved closer and said softly, ‘Oh Eveleen. Won’t you believe us? Won’t you trust me? Won’t you at least give me a chance to prove how very much I love you?’

  She looked into the depths of his brown eyes and she could see nothing but love and concern for her.

  He took her hand and raised it to his lips. Gently, almost with a reverence, he kissed each one of her fingers. Then she felt his sigh as he looked up and met her gaze. She could not doubt the look in his eyes. Desire was there, yes. She recognized that. She had seen it before in another’s eyes, but in Richard’s deep eyes there was something more. So much more.

  He gave a little shake of his head, a sad, almost defeated gesture. ‘You’re still in love with him, aren’t you, Eveleen?’

  ‘No, no,’ she cried vehemently. ‘I hate him. Hate him.’

  Richard closed his eyes and sighed so deeply now that it seemed to come from the depths of his soul.

  ‘Oh my love. My dearest love. Love and hate are blood brothers. Only indifference is truly the opposite of love.’ He opened his eyes and, reaching out, tenderly touched her cheek. ‘You can never truly love again until you can look at him and feel nothing. Absolutely nothing.’

  She opened her mouth to protest but gently he laid his forefinger against her lips. ‘But when that day comes, I’ll be here waiting for you, Eveleen. I’ll wait for you for ever, if I have to.’

  Sixty

  Eveleen was restless but did not know why.

  She was back home in the country. The cows in the field nearest the house belonged to them now and were providing enough milk for the family with plenty to spare. She made butter and cheese and sold it in Grantham market. Another field was to be ploughed up and set with vegetables which would also be sold at market. With eggs from the chickens and a recent litter of pigs, Pear Tree Farm was becoming a thriving smallholding.

  Josh looked to her to lead the way, but he worked alongside her in the fields, in the cowhouse, in the barn – anywhere where there was work to be done. The outdoor life had tanned Josh’s skin to a healthy bronze and the happiness was written on his face.

  As for Mary, she was back to her old self, happier, if that were possible, than she had ever been. She cosseted and fussed over the new man in her life and there was no denying that she was besotted with the baby. Mary had even, much to Eveleen’s silent amusement, mellowed towards her. Gone were the sharp retorts and remarks that had always been the tone of the early relationship between mother and daughter.

  There was only one cloud in her mother’s sunny sky, as far as Eveleen knew. Still no word had come from Jimmy.

  Everything should have been perfect in Eveleen’s life, so why did she feel restless? It was as if there was something missing. Why did she so often find her mind empty of rational thought and her dreamy gaze on the westward horizon?

  She was happy here. Win and Fred had visited and Andrew came often, though she knew his main purpose was to see Bridie. She was back home, Eveleen told herself, where she had longed to be.

  And yet . . .

  ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me,’ Eveleen confided in Dorothy one day when she had pushed the perambulator down the track to Furze Farm to sit in the warm kitchen over a cup of tea.

  ‘I s’pect you’re missing the bright city lights.’

  Eveleen laughed. ‘I didn’t get the chance to see any “bright lights”,’ she said. Then her smile faded. ‘But do you know, I do miss it. The noise and the bustle.’

  ‘And the people?’ Dorothy prompted gently.

  ‘Well, maybe one or two,’ Eveleen said carefully.

  There was silence between them, the only sound in the kitchen the settling of the fire in the range and the kettle singing on the hob, until Dorothy, changing the subject, said, ‘I don’t expect you’ve heard.’ She was beaming. ‘Our Ted and Alice Parks have got engaged.’

  ‘Oh, that’s wonderful news,’ Eveleen said sincerely.

  ‘Alice is so happy. Planning her trousseau and collecting bits and pieces for her bottom drawer.’ Dorothy cleared her throat and glanced at Eveleen. ‘They’re getting married next month.’

  Eveleen spoke without thinking, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. ‘Next month?’

  Dorothy nodded. ‘Yes, it’s a bit sudden, but then Alice’s dad is holding a shotgun to our Ted’s head.’ To Eveleen’s surprise Dorothy was laughing as she added, ‘If you know what I mean.’

  Eveleen’s eyes widened and then she said tartly, ‘Well, I hope Ted doesn’t run off like our Jimmy.’

  ‘He won’t,’ Dorothy said firmly. ‘He’s really looking forward to being a dad, even though they are both a bit young.’

  ‘He’s changed then,’ Eveleen murmured.

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Oh nothing,’ Eveleen said evasively. She could hardly tell Dorothy of the advice that Ted had once handed out to Jimmy. Obviously he was no longer following his own counsel.

  ‘You – you don’t seem to mind,’ Eveleen said hesitantly.

  ‘There’s not a lot me and Bill could say. Our Ted was born only six months after we were wed. And he was a full-term baby.’

  ‘Oh,’ was all Eveleen could say but the comical look of confusion on her face made Dorothy burst out laughing.

  There was someone coming down the track that led to Pear Tree Farm: a slim young woman, holding up her skirt to pick her way daintily around the puddles. Eveleen, emerging from the cowhouse, a bucket of milk in each hand, paused to watch her. The girl reached the gate, lifted her head and looked about her.

  A wide smile spread across Eveleen’s face and she almost dropped the buckets to the ground in her haste to reach her visitor. Her arms flung wide, she ran towards the gate calling out a greeting.

  ‘Helen! Oh, Helen.’

  ‘Eveleen!’

  Their shrieks of joy, their laughter and the tumult of questions they fired at each other brought Josh and Mary out of the house. Linking her arm through her friend’s, Eveleen drew her towards the house. ‘Mam, Josh, look who’s here.’

  Josh came forward, smiling and holding out his callous-hardened hand. As Helen’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, Josh chuckled, ‘Yes, mi duck, it’s rea
lly me.’

  As she put her small hand into his, the girl said candidly, ‘You look marvellous. So – so . . .’

  ‘Much thinner,’ Josh beamed and they all laughed.

  ‘Come in, come in, love,’ Mary said. ‘We haven’t met before, have we? But I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  ‘This is my mam,’ Eveleen made the introductions. ‘And the little madam who’s making all the noise is Bridie.’

  They went into the house and Mary picked up the baby. ‘You’re hungry, my little precious, aren’t you? There, there,’ she crooned.

  ‘You sit down, love. I’ll make her feed,’ Josh said, heading for the scullery.

  Eveleen could not hide her laughter at the astonished look on Helen’s face. ‘Well,’ the girl whispered, anxious not to cause offence. ‘Who’d have thought it?’

  Close to her ear, Eveleen murmured, ‘Who indeed?’

  For a moment the two girls watched the happy, domestic scene, then Eveleen said, ‘I’ll show you round.’ She pretended to grimace as she said laughingly, ‘We won’t get our dinner until mi lady there has got hers. I’ll take the milk into the dairy and then we’ll go for a walk.’ She hesitated and then added, ‘Unless you’re tired.’

  Josh came back into the room as Helen answered, ‘No, no, I’d love to see everything. I don’t get into the countryside very often.’

  ‘Dinner in half an hour then. If your mam hasn’t finished feeding Bridie, I’ll get it ready.’

  The two girls exchanged another glance and hid their smiles.

  ‘Oh, I nearly forgot.’ Helen fished in the bag she carried and pulled out a dog-eared postcard. ‘I’ve something for you. Win said this came to the house you had in Foundry Yard.’

  Eveleen took the card in her hand and turned it over. She drew in a breath sharply, making a little startled sound of surprise so that Mary and Josh looked up.

  Eveleen raised her gaze to meet her mother’s eyes. ‘Oh, Mam, it’s from Jimmy.’

  ‘Jimmy!’

  Eveleen nodded.

  In Mary’s arms the baby squirmed and protested. She could see the bottle but it wasn’t coming to her mouth quickly enough.