by Maggie Hope
Rose, lying sleepless in bed, was also planning the future but not a future she was looking forward to. She’d gone over all the options, she told herself. She could try telling someone else. The police? Her mind shrank away from the thought of the police. Everyone would get to know, everyone in Jordan. And anyway had her dad even done anything the coppers could take him for? Nothing she could prove. The minister then? She pictured kindly old Mr Mee. No, she doubted he would even understand what she was talking about. In spite of her own state of mind, she smiled. There was the time, years ago, when the Sunday School class had recited the Ten Commandments and Mr Mee had explained what they meant. But he had glossed over Thou shalt not commit adultery, looking hard at his Bible the while. No, not the minister then. And if Aunt Elsie didn’t believe her, who would? Maybe Marina. But she could never tell her friend, the thought filled her with horror.
There was only one thing to do and Rose knew what it was. She didn’t want to do it, no, she didn’t, her very flesh shrank against the horror of it. But there was no alternative, not if Mary were to be saved. Beside her, the child whimpered in her sleep and turned towards Rose and cuddled in to her side. Rose put an arm around the small body, careful not to wake her. Then she settled down to wait for her father coming in from his shift. It would be the middle of the night but she would get up and put her proposition to him then, before she could change her mind. She absolutely refused to let herself think about how it would be afterwards.
Sometime in the early morning, Rose had fallen into a light doze but the sound of Alf’s pit boots clanging against the cement brought her awake and she sat up with a start. Her head was thumping painfully and her mouth was dry as she heard the back door open and close quietly and footsteps as he walked over to the fire and stirred the cinders to get them to let out some heat. Now was the time; now, as he sat down by the hearth and took off his boots, but before he shed his pit clothes or filled the tin bath which had been left ready for him. Her heart beating as painfully as her head, Rose slipped out of bed and dressed quickly. She couldn’t face him in her nightie. She had to be very quiet, didn’t want to disturb Aunt Elsie who was asleep in the next room. As she went slowly down the stairs she tried to send a thought winging to her mam that was not quite a prayer. You know why, don’t you, Mam? You understand.
Chapter Ten
Marina stood by the card-sorting machine in the office, staring out of the window rather than watching the cards slotting into the racks. Even then, she wasn’t seeing the snow-whitened fields and dark river before her but Charlie’s face when she had met him on her way to the bus the evening before. It had been an accidental meeting; he was with a group of students and she was hurrying down Silver Street to catch the bus, and as she dodged round a crowd of housewives gossiping in the narrow street there he was.
‘Charlie!’ she had cried, and the boy beside him who had been declaiming something in a loud, excited voice, stopped in mid-sentence. He looked from Charlie to Marina and back again, speculation dawning in his face, and for a split second she had thought Charlie looked embarrassed and irritated at the same time. Then she realised she was mistaken as he smiled a greeting.
‘Hallo, Marina,’ he’d said. It was a week into the new term and this was the first time they had met. He stood facing her and the group he was with moved on up the bank towards the market place, some of them glancing back to the couple standing still among the hurrying crowd.
‘How are you, Marina? I was hoping to see you but you know what it is, the beginning of term and all that.’
‘That’s all right, Charlie,’ she assured him, though of course it wasn’t all right. It sounded as though he was making excuses. Why, even now he was edging round and glancing up towards his friends.
‘Look, I’m in a hurry, I’ll see you soon,’ he said, and put out a hand and touched her on the cheek, smiling a cheery self-possessed smile now the encounter was almost over.
‘Yes, see you soon.’
She had watched as he joined his friends and heard one of them laugh and clap him on the back before she turned and went on down to the bridge and then to the bus station.
There was a sudden change in the sound of the cards slotting away in the sorting machine and Marina’s thoughts were dragged back to the present. A card had caught in the mechanism and others were piling up behind it, twisting and tearing. Hurriedly, she switched it off.
‘Look here,’ said Margaret and Marina jumped; she hadn’t noticed the supervisor come up behind her. ‘Don’t you think you should be paying more attention to your work?’
‘Yes, Margaret, sorry,’ Marina mumbled and extricated the spoiled cards from the machine, going over to a punching machine to punch them again. Doris, feeding paper into the clanking tabulator, winked at her and rolled her eyes at Margaret’s retreating form and Marina smiled ruefully back.
Perhaps she had misread Charlie’s expression, thought Marina as she took the newly punched cards to the sorter and ran them through. Perhaps he really was busy with the new term. He would get in touch with her as soon as he had the time, of course he would. They were practically engaged, weren’t they? She looked up at the clock on the wall above Margaret’s desk. It was almost five o’clock, Charlie could be waiting for her downstairs even now. The thought brought a little thrill of excitement with it. Of course he would be there. It was Thursday and last term he had always been there on Thursdays.
The noise of the machines stopped as the hands on the clock reached the hour and was replaced by girls talking and gathering up their belongings. If she rushed, Marina could catch the five-fifteen bus from the bus station as she normally did. Tonight, though, she took her time, calling goodnight to the others as they went. In the cloakroom she pulled a comb through her hair, clipping the sides back from her cheeks and turning the bangs on her forehead over her finger in the new fashion.
‘Coming?’ asked Doris on her way out.
‘You go on, I have one or two things to do,’ Marina replied.
As she descended the stairs, she felt her heart beat just that bit faster in anticipation so that when finally she got outside into the bitter wind which was sweeping down Old Elvet it was all the more disappointing when he wasn’t there. Despondently, Marina started to walk to the bridge and on up the hill to the market place. The lights from the shops twinkled on the waters of the Wear and normally she would have paused to admire them but tonight she trudged on, not caring whether she caught her bus or not. He didn’t say he would meet me tonight, she told herself. But the evening stretched ahead of her with nothing to fill it, nothing important anyhow.
The town hall clock was striking five-fifteen as she passed and went on down Silver Street so it was a waste of time even going into the bus station, she told herself. She would walk on. The air would do her good after that stuffy old office. She wound her scarf round her head and neck and began to climb yet another of the hills of Durham, not admitting even to herself where she was going until she stopped at the house and rang the bell.
‘Is Charlie in?’ she asked the scruffy-looking youth who answered. He looked uncertain.
‘Er … I’ll just see,’ he replied and left her standing on the doorstep, wishing with all her heart she hadn’t come. The door was slightly open and she could hear as he bounded up the stairs and knocked at a door at the top; she could even hear the sound of voices as he spoke to someone. She was being a fool, she knew she was being too forward, men didn’t like to be chased, they liked to do the chasing. She would just go now, slip away before Charlie realised it was her. She was outside the gate and a few steps away when the door opened again.
‘Marina? Where are you off to?’
Charlie’s voice, cool and amused.
‘I thought …’
‘Come on in out of this wind, you must be frozen,’ he said and smiled at her and all her doubts melted as she went into the light and warmth of the house. ‘I meant to come and meet you out of work but then I got involved in som
ething else,’ he said as he took her arm and kissed the tip of her nose before leading her upstairs to his room. She wondered what else it was he had got involved in, what had made him forget about her. ‘It’s more private in here,’ he said. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’
Marina shook her head. She could hear there were others in the communal sitting room, talking and laughing, and didn’t feel like joining them, not tonight. She wanted to be alone with Charlie. Perhaps they would talk things out. He was smiling at her, his green eyes ringed with dark lashes a girl would have given anything for, and everything was all right, of course it was. Her barely acknowledged fears melted away.
‘Come and sit in this chair. Take off your coat, I’ll make you a cup of tea,’ said Charlie. He shifted a pile of books from the only armchair and she unbuttoned her coat and hung it on the back of the door next to his. He went down to the kitchen and Marina sat back in the chair and looked around the room. There was a small electric fire so it was warm enough. The room smelled of books and ink and the mixture of Palmolive soap and young man and something else indefinable which was Charlie.
He sat on the bed and watched her as she drank the tea. (Too strong and too much sugar but she drank it nevertheless.) When she had finished he stood and drew her to her feet and put his arms around her and kissed her. Marina relaxed and kissed him back and after a moment they sat on the bed, still entwined in each other’s arms, still kissing.
‘I came to talk, Charlie,’ she said breathlessly, not admitting even to herself that she had come for this. She leaned her head back and looked up into his face. His lips were reddened and moist and his eyes sleepy-looking yet intent.
‘There’s plenty of time to talk,’ he murmured, and his fingers were under her jumper, cupping her breast, pulling down the bra. She could feel his thumb rub across her hardened nipple and felt a prickling deep down inside her.
I can stop any time, Marina told herself, but she was swept along in a tide of feeling which would not be denied and the moment for calling a halt just did not come.
‘Charlie?’ a man’s voice was calling, dragging her back from the edge of sleep. She was lying in a curve with Charlie’s body wrapped around her, his arm across her breasts.
‘Charlie? Come on, we’re going to be late.’
Beside her, he stirred and turned over on his back.
‘OK, I’m coming. Give me ten minutes,’ he called, and there was the sound of footsteps retreating down the stairs.
Ten minutes? thought Marina. She had nothing on, her skin felt sticky, and where were her clothes? She had to go. She sat up in bed, looking for her pants and bra. They were on the chair by the bed.
‘Come on, love. I’m sorry to hurry you but I’ve made arrangements for this evening,’ said Charlie. He was pulling on his trousers now, running a hand through his hair. She looked at her watch. It was only half-past six, they must have slept barely half an hour. She was suddenly angry with him. What did he mean by rushing her off as soon as he’d finished with her?
‘I wanted to talk,’ she said.
‘What about? Oh, come on, love, we can’t talk now. If I’d known you were coming …’
There was a tiny silence. ‘I need the bathroom,’ Marina said flatly as she reached for and fastened her bra. She pulled on her coat so that she was decent going into the corridor, bundled up her other clothes and went to the door.
‘Don’t –’ he said, and stopped as she turned and stared at him.
‘What?’
‘Don’t be long,’ he went on, dropping his eyes, having the grace to look sheepish. ‘Look, I’m sorry, love. I really do have to go.’
In the bathroom Marina cleaned herself up and combed her hair. She looked at her reflection and took her lipstick out of her bag to outline her lips. ‘I love him,’ she said aloud, almost in apology to herself. She felt used.
Charlie was waiting when she got back to his room.
‘Ready now?’
‘Yes. When will I see you again?’ She hated herself for saying it. How spineless she was.
‘Oh, I don’t know. Look, I really have to go now, I’ll be in touch.’
‘I love you, Charlie.’ It was the first time she had ever said she loved anyone except her parents. He paused and looked over his shoulder at her, already at the top of the stairs.
‘Don’t be so intense, Marina. Look, I’ll meet you after work tomorrow. In the cafe in the market place?’
She nodded and followed him out into the dark January night. His friend was waiting at the door and they went off together. She watched them go for a minute but Charlie didn’t look back.
‘I’m going to the pictures with the girls from work tonight,’ Marina said to her mother in answer to Kate’s raised eyebrows when she’d appeared dressed for work in her best blue tweed suit, the one with inverted pleats in the skirt. The jacket was nipped in at the waist and flared out over the hips.
‘I don’t know, Marina, you lasses are always gadding about nowadays,’ grumbled Kate, and sighed. ‘Still, you might as well enjoy yourselves while you can. Mind, I think you should spare a thought for Rose Sharpe. Weren’t you two best friends for years? Now you scarcely have any time for her, and by the look of her she could do with a friend.’
Marina was smearing marmalade on a slice of toast. She stopped and looked over at her mother. ‘Oh? I thought she had her aunt there?’
‘No, Elsie’s gone and taken the twins with her. There’s only Rose and her dad. I don’t know why she doesn’t get a job, there can’t be that much for her to do in the house, not with just the two of them. But she hardly goes out these days and you know what Alf Sharpe’s like – he hates visitors.’
Marina felt guilty that she hadn’t been to see Rose since the funeral. But Mam was right, Alf Sharpe was so awful, no manners at all, no wonder people had stopped going to visit Rose. No one liked to be insulted. ‘I’ll pop in to see her tomorrow, I promise.’
Charlie was not waiting in the cafe when Marina left work at five o’clock. Disappointment was like a great weight pressing down on her, even though in the back of her mind she had not expected him. She walked up to Elvet bridge, looking back every few minutes, and forward into the scurrying crowds in between.
‘Hey there, I’ll walk to the bus station with you,’ a voice said at her side but it was only Doris.
‘Sorry, I’m going the other way,’ said Marina and sped off to the left and up New Elvet hill. She could catch the bus from New Inn at the top. It was further to walk but at least she would be on her own. Doris was left staring after her, mouth open in affront.
She wasn’t going to go chasing after Charlie any more, Marina told herself. No doubt he had gone back to Yorkshire. After all, it was Friday. He’d probably intended to all along. He’d only said he would meet her to get rid of her. She burned with humiliation. And anger. She’d never speak to him again, she vowed. The bus came along on its way from Sunderland to Bishop Auckland and she climbed on to the top deck and went right to the empty seat at the front. Staring out into the dark night, she summoned up anger, wanting it to consume the humiliation. Oh, she would never, never speak to Charlie Hutchinson again, not if hell were to freeze over!
The bus stopped at Spennymoor and someone slid into the seat beside her. Marina hunched her shoulders resentfully and stared out of the window, to find herself staring into the grinning reflection of Brian Wearmouth.
‘You not speaking to me now, Marina Morland?’ he asked.
‘Hallo, Brian.’ She smiled brightly as she turned to him. ‘Sorry, I didn’t see you there. What have you been doing in Spennymoor?’ She looked into his eyes as though he was the only boy in the world, and indeed, she realised, he was a good-looking lad now all right, with his dark eyes sparkling and his hair slicked back in a quiff. He’d become a man, in fact, broad-shouldered and tall, while his skin, the scourge of his schooldays, showed hardly a blemish.
By the time they had got off the bus in Bishop Auckland and wer
e walking to the local stop for Jordan, he had told her how he had been to see Jeff who had gone to work at Easington on the coast because he couldn’t get on with his overman at Jordan. ‘Anyway, Easington’s a big pit, a man has a future there.’
Brian took Marina’s arm as they crossed the street and his grip was firm and warm and the way he looked down at her and smiled was balm to her rejected soul.
‘How’s he getting on?’ she asked.
‘Well, I think. He’s got a good lodging with a nice family.’ Brian pursed his mouth and shook his head slowly. ‘At least … he’s getting on all right at work and mixing with the folk there but he’s not happy, Marina. He misses Rose.’
She was surprised. ‘But I didn’t know –’
‘What, that they were a couple? They weren’t. But Jeff would like to be. You know how it is, he’s good fun, a right comedian, but he’s always carried a torch for Rose. At one time I thought she liked him an’ all.’ He cocked an eyebrow at her enquiringly as though she knew the answer.
‘Rose’s changed, Brian, especially since she lost her mother and then the twins having to go away like that. She never goes out, I don’t suppose she has much time for boys.’
‘And then there’s her dad,’ sighed Brian. ‘Bad cess to him, that’s what I say.’
Marina said nothing, there was nothing to say. They got on the bus to Jordan and after a while Brian enquired, ‘Have you got a boyfriend, Marina?’
‘No.’ She immediately thought of Charlie. Oh, God, when was she ever going to get over him?