Miss Martha Mary Crawford

by Catherine Cookson (Catherine Marchant)

  It was some seconds before Nancy answered, and then it was on a gasp, as if she had come to the end of a long run. ‘He…he went out early this morning with his father. They are herding cattle.’

  ‘Do you dislike him…I mean apart…apart from marriage?’

  There was another long pause before Nancy said, ‘No, I…I don’t dislike him.’

  ‘Then take that as a start and build on it.’

  ‘Oh, Martha Mary.’ Now Nancy fell against Martha’s breast. ‘I’m so unhappy.’

  ‘That will pass. Anyway, as I said, you have your choice.’

  A moment later, when Nancy lifted her head, Martha saw by the look in her eyes that she had made it, and she bent forward and kissed her, saying softly, ‘Come up to my room and wash your face and hands, and we’ll see about getting some of this mud off you. Then after you’ve had something to eat, go out of this house for the last time, and without regret, for it’ll never be again as you knew it; and take the road to your home, because from now onwards his house is your home. Make the best of it, and make yourself into something that he will be proud of. Yes, that’s what I said, because this much I have gathered, he doesn’t consider any of us anything to look up to at the moment. Moreover, he himself has a fierce pride and you’ll never break it, but you could foster it and channel it into something good.’

  They stood now looking deeply and sadly into each other’s eyes; then without further words they joined hands and went quietly out of the drawing room.

  It was about fifteen minutes later when Martha came downstairs to set a tray of food for Nancy that Roland came hurrying from the passage and, catching up with her as she neared the kitchen door, grabbed her, saying, ‘Come back here a minute, I want to talk to you.’

  ‘Leave go of me!’ She slapped not only at his hand but at his chest, saying angrily, ‘If you lay hands on me again like that I shall strike you in the face.’

  He actually gaped at her as he said thickly, ‘What’s come over you? You’re acting like a common hussy. It’s him, isn’t it, that fellow back there. There’s something between you and him. He’s putting you up to this…Well, anyway, you’re not going to persuade Nancy to go back there…’

  ‘Nancy is going back there. I’m sorry to dash your revived hopes of an unpaid servant for your future wife, but Nancy has already chosen. I think she would rather go into the workhouse than stay here with that person and you.’

  ‘You are a hussy…a mean, spiteful hussy.’

  ‘Don’t you dare call me such names.’

  ‘I can and will; you’re as far from a lady as…as Peg back there. And what you forget is I have the power to keep Nancy here. I can make her stay; I can take it to law.’

  ‘Do that. Try it on. You do just that, and you’ll find yourself the laughing stock of the county because by that time she herself will fight you. And another thing I’ll tell you, you’d put up a poor show in any court, private or public, against such a man as Robbie Robson. To use one of Dilly’s expressions, he’d wipe the floor with you. His grammar may not equal yours but his intelligence far outweighs any you possess.’

  As she turned from him with a look of disdain and thrust open the kitchen door, he yelled after her, ‘You’ve turned into a fiend, a common loud-mouthed fiend,’ and she answered as loudly and without pausing or turning her head, ‘And it’s not before time.’

  It was three o’clock in the afternoon when Nancy, her clothes as clean as it had been possible to get them, her face washed, her hair combed, her bonnet strings tied neatly under her chin, said her farewell to Martha at the end of the drive leading into the lane.

  After they had embraced tightly and kissed each other, Martha stood holding Nancy’s hands as she said, ‘Take heart, my dear; there are new lives opening for all of us, and whatever happens we’ll see each other quite a lot in the future. Ask…your…ask Robbie if I may call. And do as I said, tell him that you just felt you wanted to take a stroll. And about your clothes—’ she looked down at the stained cape and dress—‘explain that you were foolish enough to take a short cut across the fields. Now, go on, and…and keep to the main road all the way. Goodbye, my love.’ Again they embraced, but now they couldn’t see each other because of their tears.

  With a gentle push Martha now sent Nancy on her way, and she watched her until she reached the bend in the lane, where she turned and waved; then slowly she walked back up the drive and into the house, and to the study.

  She had not returned to the room since she had left it with Nancy earlier and it was as if he had been waiting for her since that time.

  Slowly, she walked towards the couch and at the foot of it she stopped and said simply, ‘It’s done; she’s gone back.’

  ‘Good. Sit down and tell me.’

  ‘I…I can’t, not at present. I heard Aunt Sophie singing as I came in; it’s always a bad sign. I’ll…I’ll come back later. Will you excuse me?’

  ‘No. No, I won’t.’ He hitched himself further up on the couch. ‘Anyway, tomorrow or the next day Aunt Sophie will cease to be your responsibility…Look. Don’t go. I want to talk to you…Please.’

  Martha was half-turned from him, her head was bowed and she remained still; then after a moment she walked down the room and he did not now try to detain her.

  As she crossed the hall she said to herself, ‘Will you marry me? I want a housekeeper.’

  She was upstairs attending to Aunt Sophie when Peg came scurrying into the room, whispering loudly, ‘He’s come, miss, Robbie Robson; he’s downstairs with a face like thunder. I…I didn’t tell him Miss Nancy’s gone, he nearly knocked me on my back.’

  Martha looked towards Sophie who was sitting propped up in bed and she said hastily, ‘I’ll be back in a moment, Aunt Sophie.’

  ‘Who’s Robbie Robson, Martha Mary?’

  ‘Just…just a young man.’

  ‘There’s different people in the house now, isn’t there, Martha Mary, different footsteps?’

  Martha stroked the thin hair back from Sophie’s forehead, saying, ‘It’s…it’s a guest.’

  ‘Roland’s not a guest and Roland hasn’t been to see me.’

  ‘He will, he will shortly.’

  ‘There’s only you who’s constant, Martha Mary, only you.’

  Oh dear God! She had felt riddled with guilt every time she had come into this room during the past two days, but now this was awful. Only she who was constant. And she was going to leave her to the tender mercies of that madam. But…but she was going. Yes, she was going. Nothing would stop her, nothing must stop her …

  Robbie Robson was in the hall. He watched her descend the stairs, and as she approached him she thought that Peg’s description of his face being like thunder was far from accurate, for it wasn’t dark but white with passion.

  She raised her hand in a warning sign for him not to begin there and then but said hastily, ‘Come this way, please.’

  Going quickly before him, she led the way into the dining room, and when he closed the door behind them he didn’t start by saying, ‘Where is she?’ but ‘You knew this would happen, didn’t you? You were prepared for it.’

  ‘Please listen to me for a moment…’

  ‘I’m not listenin’ to anything I don’t want to hear. She’s me wife, legally an’ afore God though we weren’t joined in any church, and so it’ll be until the end. Now no more talk, just tell her I’m here and we’re goin’ home.’

  ‘She’s not here.’

  ‘Miss Crawford.’ He moved a threatening step nearer to her. ‘I’ll go through this house like a small toothcomb in a dog’s coat if you don’t fetch her here an’ now.’

  ‘I’m telling you’—her voice was almost as harsh as his—‘she is not here. She came, but she went again.’

  ‘Went where?’

  ‘The only place she could go, back home to you.’ She watched him blink and she noted that he had extremely long eyelashes for a man.

  ‘Then she’s gone because y
ou sent her.’ His voice was quieter now, and hers too as she said, ‘Sit down.’ She motioned to a chair and took one opposite him, and she looked at him for some time before she said, ‘Would you do something for me, and incidentally for yourself? It might mean the difference between happiness and unhappiness for you both. I would ask you to go back home now, and should you find her already there act as if nothing had happened. If you should notice her mud-bespattered clothes, and she tells you that she fell into some mire when she was taking a short cut across the fields when out for a stroll, accept her explanation. Anyway, it would be understandable that she should want to take a walk because the day is now so fine and we’ve had such a lot of rain lately…’ She now bowed her head and ended, ‘It all sounds very lame, but what I’m asking you to do is to ignore her running away.’

  When he made no answer she raised her head and looked at him and now said softly, ‘Be gentle with her; she’s…she’s a very fragile thing…’

  ‘She’s not.’ The statement was definite, flat and knowledgeable. ‘She’s as tough as they come. And she’s not above using her cl…aws.’ His voice trailed away on the word, and now he bit hard on his lip and turned his head to the side.

  An embarrassed silence enveloped them both for a few moments, and they avoided each other’s eyes until he, getting to his feet, said, ‘I can see why she likes you, an’ why she misses you so.’

  She was standing facing him now and she asked, ‘May I come and visit her?’

  ‘Anytime. Oh aye, anytime. You’d be very welcome. An’ after all, we’re practically next-door neighbours, aren’t we?’ For the first time a faint smile touched his lips.

  ‘Not for much longer, I’m…I’m leaving here.’

  ‘You’re leavin’ here?’ He screwed up his face at her.

  ‘Yes; marriages seem to be in the air, my brother is getting married.’

  ‘The young one?’

  ‘The only one…And I wish to make a life of my own now.’

  He nodded at her, a slow understanding nod; and then he said, with a new note of bitterness to his voice, ‘Is that what persuaded her to come back to me?’

  ‘Partly I suppose, but…but not altogether. She likes you. Liking can blossom into love, and that will be up to you.’

  He looked past her towards the window now as he asked, ‘How long ago is it since she left?’

  ‘Just on half an hour I should say.’

  ‘Half an hour.’ She watched him thinking; then he said, ‘Who knows, I might meet up with her on the road if I go now.’

  She smiled faintly in return. ‘You might. Yes, you might if you hurry.’

  He turned from her, reached the door, then turned again and said, ‘You’ll do as you said and come an’ see us?’

  ‘As often as I may, or can.’

  ‘Good enough, Goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye.’

  When the door closed she walked up the dining room to the window and stood looking out. When he came into view he was running, and there was something about his running that reminded her of Nancy. There was the same swift grace about it, although she doubted if Nancy could ever run as fast as he was running now. When he disappeared from her view down the drive she had the strange thought that Nancy was after all a lucky girl …

  In the hall again, she hesitated at the top of the passage. Should she go and tell him what had transpired? She’d have to talk to him sometime, so it might as well be now. But what if he should bring up the marriage business again? Well, what if he should? He had been honest. I want a housekeeper…Oh, dear Lord, if only …

  She went hurriedly along the passage and into the study.

  He was lying back now with his eyes closed and he didn’t open them until she said, ‘Robbie’s been.’ She did not now say Robbie Robson.

  ‘Oh! And what happened? Did he blow up?’

  ‘Yes, at first; but he went away much calmer. I…I think he will try and understand her, and be patient with her.’

  ‘Oh well, if he left you with that impression I should imagine it’ll work out and you’ll have no more worry from that quarter…But’—he now pursed his lips—‘from what seeps in here from outside I imagine you’re having trouble from other quarters.’ He put out his hand towards her and said, with deep earnestness, ‘When can we leave? I’m fit enough, at least I will be tomorrow. If this weather keeps up the roads will have dried somewhat and the doctor will get through and we could go back with him. What do you say?’

  ‘I…I think it would be wise for you to wait another day or so longer. You haven’t done any walking yet, and…and you’re very bruised, and bound to be stiff.’

  ‘Well, it won’t help the stiffness if I go on lying here, will it?’

  She looked at him for a moment in silence before she said, ‘After supper then, get up for a little while and see how you feel.’

  When he lay back and stared at her unblinking, her colour rose hot about her face and, somewhat flustered, she turned away, saying, ‘The sun has disappeared, it is overcast again. I do hope it isn’t a sign of more rain because Mildred will be on her way.’

  ‘Oh yes, Mildred. I’d forgotten about Mildred, I’ve forgotten so many things over the past two days. She’s another one who’s going to get a shock; but then, I think Mildred is the kind of girl who can withstand shocks…Martha!’ He had said her name sharply following a short silence. ‘How is Fred? You’ve never mentioned him for some time. And I’d forgotten to ask. Fancy me forgetting Fred.’

  She had turned towards him now and she jerked her head to the side as she mumbled, ‘Oh…oh, he’s all right.’

  ‘…Martha?’

  ‘Yes?’ She glanced at him over her shoulder.

  ‘Look…come here.’ He had pulled himself upwards again and was now leaning over the side of the couch. ‘What’s happened to him? Look, I’ll know tomorrow or whenever I get outside, what is it?’ His voice was rising.

  ‘Please. Please.’ She was standing by his side now. ‘Don’t excite yourself. All right…all right I’ll tell you. He…he died before we got him home.’

  She watched him slump back onto the pillows, turn his head aside and gnaw at his lower lip with his teeth until she thought the blood would spurt from it. A full three minutes passed in silence before he asked thickly, ‘How…how did he die?’

  It was an impossibility for her to describe the animal’s injuries; even now when she thought of them it made her stomach heave. The horse had been lucky to get off with one jab of a knife. She murmured, ‘A blow, on the head I think, such as was aimed at you. I’m…I’m sure he died quickly.’

  He was looking straight up at her now.

  ‘Where did you find him?’

  ‘He…he was lying across your chest.’

  Again his head went to the side, and she turned quietly away and went out of the room in order that he could give way to his distress without embarrassment. But as she went she admitted to surprise in herself at his almost feminine reaction to the death of his dog. Such emotion did not match up with his rough, brusque exterior. His whipping of Nick Bailey was, she thought, in character, but not the tears he had almost shed in front of her. Yet this very facet of tenderness would, she knew, have delighted her if it had been shown to a…a human being. But no, he reserved it for his dog, whilst to her he had said, ‘I want a housekeeper.’

  Mildred arrived home at half past five. She talked non-stop from the moment she entered the door. She was very hungry. The Armstrongs’ food was appalling; and what was all the fuss about the doctor being attacked? Was he still here? And anyway there wasn’t much sympathy for him in the town because he wasn’t well liked, he was without style or manners. She herself could never understand how he became a doctor; she was sure he would never get into the Brockdean household, they always sent for Doctor Pippin.

  Martha was cutting a shive out of a bacon and egg pie on the kitchen table and she didn’t raise her eyes as she said, ‘I thought you rather liked him.’
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br />   ‘You thought wrong. I’m civil to him. And anyway, who could like him? Just think of the way he treated you when he first came to the house. He’s churlish. By the way, what’s for supper? Not just that!’ She pointed to the pie.

  ‘I’m afraid so; I haven’t done much cooking these last two days.’ She stopped now, rested her hands on the kitchen table and looked across at Mildred, saying, ‘I’ve got some news for you, in fact two kinds of news. One leads to the other. First, Roland is going to be married…’

  ‘Our Roland!’ Mildred had sprung to her feet from the kitchen chair. ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘I’m not joking. His future wife and he are at this moment parading the grounds with a view to what purpose they can be put. I should imagine she is measuring out the squares for a playground or playing fields.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Just what I said, Mildred. I sent for Roland in haste to come home in order to prevent Nancy marrying.’

  ‘Our Nancy?’