Judy nodded. She could hear everything that was said, and yet she hardly heard a word, because it was still Davie who filled her mind and held her heart in a way as never before. And it was the strangest thing.
‘So, now that we’ve got that out of the way, will you tell me what happened…you said you got into the blanket to keep warm?’
More attentive now, Judy went on, ‘I fell asleep, and the next thing I knew, Davie was ready to leave. He wrote the letter and then he was gone.’
‘And was it then, that you realised your feelings towards him had changed?’
Embarrassed, Judy lowered her gaze. ‘I’ve always loved Davie, like a brother really. But now, I don’t know what’s happened, Mam. It’s all different, and I can’t stop thinking about him.’
Taking the girl into her arms, Beth told her how love between man and woman was a strong, unpredictable thing. ‘But I think the trouble with you now is that Davie has always been here and you never imagined he wouldn’t be. You’ve seen him most every day since the two of you went to infant school. You were both only children, and we were all so happy that you’d found each other – Rita most of all, poor lass. She was thrilled that her Davie had you for his best friend. Now, suddenly, his life has changed, and because of that, so has yours. Happen you’ll see him again, and happen you won’t. But either way, there is nothing you can do about that.’
At the thought of never seeing him again, the girl burst into tears.
‘I don’t like it, Mam.’ Her emotions were running wild. ‘When I think about Davie now, it really hurts.’
‘I know, lass, I know. But you must learn to live with the situation, because whether we like it or not, in the end everything changes. The years pass and nothing ever stays the same. You’re bound to miss him. And I daresay he’ll miss you the same.’
‘Do you really think he’ll miss me?’
‘Well, o’ course he will, lass.’ Her heart ached for Judy. ‘You’re older now, and so is he. In fact, he was due to leave school soon and start work as a man. Like I say, things change. One day you wake up and what happened yesterday is gone; it’s the past already. But the future is still in front of us. That’s the way of things, and we have to accept it. And remember, your dad and I love you, and we’ll help you get through this.’
For a time they sat cuddled up together, these two; one settled in her life and content with it; and the other still finding her way, unsure and afraid.
‘Will he ever come back, Mam?’ Judy was the first to speak.
‘Who knows?’ As ever, Beth was practical. ‘Davie has a lot to deal with. Happen it’ll be easier for him to do that from a distance. And then again, he may suddenly yearn for familiar things, and find his way home. All we can do is wait and see. Give him time, love, as much time as he needs.’
She gave her daughter a final hug. ‘You stay awhile and think about everything,’ she suggested kindly. ‘If you need me, you know where I’ll be.’ She chuckled. ‘I’ll be over by the chickens…making sure your father doesn’t run amok with that shotgun.’
In the evening, when dinner was over, Judy helped to clear the table and wash up, before excusing herself. ‘I’m ready for bed now,’ she said, gave each of her parents a hug and quickly departed the room.
‘What’s got into our Judy?’ Tom was perplexed. ‘She hardly ate any of her food, and if she spoke it was only because you or I talked to her first. Is the lass ill or what?’‘No, Tom, she’s not ill – at least, not in the way you think.’
‘Oh, aye, an’ what’s that supposed to mean?’ he asked, going to sit by the fire for a read of the News of the World.
Choosing her words carefully, Beth told him, ‘The thing is, our little girl is growing up fast. Right now, there are things going on inside her head that you can’t begin to understand.’
‘Oh, give over, woman!’ Tom didn’t take kindly to riddles. ‘Just tell me what’s going on, an’ I’d like it in plain language, if you don’t mind.’
‘Hmm!’ Beth smiled knowingly. ‘What ails our daughter can’t be told in plain language. She’s a girl becoming a woman, and as I say, there’s not a man on God’s earth who could fathom that out, even if he tried.’
Tom tutted impatiently, but he had a smile and a comment. ‘You’re not wrong there. I’ve been trying to fathom you out long enough, Elizabeth Makepeace, an’ I’m still no nearer than the day I put a ring on yer finger. Women!’ he muttered. ‘Damned if I can make head nor tail of ’em!’
‘Stop complaining and read your paper.’ Beth took out her sewing box and smoothed one of her husband’s socks over the wooden heel she kept for darning. And while she threaded the biggest needle with black wool, she thought of her young daughter upstairs, alone with her dreams.
It didn’t take much to see what was wrong with the lass, she thought, making a knot in the wool. All these years, Davie Adams and Judy had been friends through thick and thin. As small children during the latter part of the war, they had spent a lot of time over at Three Mills Farm, especially at weekends. Beth recalled her tiny daughter looking up at Davie with absolute love and hero-worship, following him around and ready to play any role he asked her to. She was cowboy to his Indian, batsman to his bowler, and they could spend hours in a corner of the farmyard, playing with their marbles and Dinky toys. With homemade nets, they’d fish for tiddlers and sticklebacks in the duckpond, and put them in jamjars, with string tied round, to make handles. And sometimes, Davie would push the battered old doll’s pram around the yard, full of teddies and hand knitted toys, while the hens squawked about them.
Beth sighed nostalgically. When Rita came to fetch him, the two women would enjoy a nice cup of tea and a bit o’ cake and a natter. She missed those days, despite the constant fear of bombing. As a farmer, thank God, her Tom was exempt from service, although he did his share of fire-watching and the like. Often, when Don was away, Rita would stay, and they’d all play cards, once the kids were in bed. Then Rita was a different woman from the one who went out with her mother, all dolled up with a load of powder and paint on her pretty face and the pair of ’em up to all sorts of tricks behind their husbands’ backs.
Those memories were best forgotten. Beth thought instead of the times she had helped the children with their homework when they’d gone off to the big school in Blackburn Town. She was canny at the arithmetic, was Beth – she’d needed to have a shrewd head on her shoulders, running the farm with her Tom, who was better at hosswork than headwork. Oh well. Davie had been due to leave soon, while her Judy had a couple of years or more yet. And now Rita was gone, and so was Don…and Davie had vanished into the wide blue yonder, just when Judy had begun to see her childhood friend in a different light.
It seemed that, with him leaving, their friendship, at least on Judy’s side, had deepened into a more mature emotion. The girl had said it herself. She loved Davie in a new way – and it was a painful thing. Turning to her darning, Beth consoled herself with the knowledge that Judy was still too young at twelve to experience the stirrings of real love- the kind that robs you of your sleep and makes the day seem never ending.
She thought of Davie, and her heart ached. Where was the lad? Why didn’t he come home, instead o’ wandering the streets like some poor vagabond! She tutted aloud.
‘What’s that?’ Tom peered over his newspaper. ‘What did y’say?’
‘I said, would you like another cup o’ tea?’ Beth asked, throwing off her anxious mood.
‘Aye, go on then…and don’t forget the sugar this time.’
Upstairs, Judy lay on her bed, her mind in turmoil. She was half-minded to go after Davie, but she knew her parents would be frantic with worry if she did so. And besides, which way would she go? Even Davie hadn’t known where he was headed.
After a few minutes of trying to get to sleep, she went and sat by the window; she felt comfortable there, as though that great outdoors had the answer to everything. A trillion stars were dancing in the heavens, an
d from somewhere in the distance a barn owl was calling for its mate. How could everything be so magical, while she felt so sad?She wondered if Davie could hear that same owl, or see the same stars in the skies. The idea gave her a small degree of comfort.
Davie was not as far away as Judy imagined.
Curled up at the foot of a tree trunk, he was finding it hard to sleep. Judy was strong in his mind, and stronger still was her impetuous kiss. It still burned on his mouth, her soft full lips against his. He wanted to see her again, but he knew it would be best if he didn’t.Soon, it would be time for him to leave this place for good. She still had a lot of growing up to do, while he felt a hundred years old. If they never saw each other again it would be a very sorry thing.
But maybe, in the end, that might be for the best.
For now though, he desperately needed to sleep. Rolling over, he wrapped the blanket she had given him closer about his shoulders. His bag, now a pillow, was lumpy, but he tried to relax. However, his thoughts were too alive with new feelings. Time and again, he brushed his fingers over his lips, remembering the urgency of her kiss; so unexpected and lovely; her nearness, and the warm, earthy smell of her hair brushing against his face.
After a while, he drifted into a shallow, troubled rest, haunted by recent events and the unknown road ahead. His mother’s dying face, with its look of love, made him sob in his sleep.
Opening his eyes, glad to see it was almost dawn, he turned his thoughts to family.
Before he set out, there was one more thing he had to do. Then he would be gone from here, taking whichever path drew him away.
Not for the first time since that night, he wondered where his father might be. Had Don gone back to Ireland? Or was he still hereabouts, a mere few miles away? Or was he on a ship destined for foreign parts?
Davie needed him now more than ever, but he would never admit it out loud. All he wished was that his father should be safe, wherever he was, and wherever in the world his travels might take him.
He thought of his own situation and yes, the future seemed a frightening prospect. But the past was even more daunting.
And the sooner he put it behind him, the better.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THROUGHOUT THE WEEK following Davie’s disappearance, news of his mother’s untimely demise spread far and wide. ‘That silly tart got what she deserved,’ some declared callously. Others shook their head and found a degree of compassion for a life lost, and other lives ruined.
‘I expect we’ll be the only ones at the church.’ Beth had been getting her family prepared for the ordeal of the funeral on the Saturday morning.Tom was more philosophical. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if a few neighbours turned up,’ he commented, as he wound his tie round his neck for the third time. ‘Happen not for Rita’s sake, but for old Joseph. He’s made a heap o’ friends over the years, an’he’s never let’em down when they needed him.’
He cocked his head to one side, skenning downwards through crossed eyes as he made a fourth attempt at taming his rebellious tie. ‘I reckon they’ll not let him down neither, especially not today of all days.’
Snatching the tie from round his neck, he threw it over the back of the chair. ‘I’m not wearing this damned thing! I can’t even fasten the beggar.’
Judy came to the rescue. ‘Don’t fidget, Dad,’ she said, sliding the tie round his leathery neck. ‘And I think you’re right. I bet the people will be there for old Joseph.’
‘I’m not so sure.’ Rolling the flesh-coloured stockings up to her thighs, Beth hoisted her skirt and hooked up the suspenders. ‘Although we were friends, there was summat inside Rita that made her lose all control. By! She must have bedded half the male population o’ Blackburn in her time. I’m just glad she never started on you, Tom. There must be a hundred women out there who’d like to dance on her grave, never mind come and pay their respects.’
As she spoke, she made the sign of the cross over herself. ‘God rest her soul all the same,’ she prayed.
Judy glanced across at her mam. ‘Your seams are crooked.’
‘What?’
Having looped her daddy’s tie into a neat little knot, the girl pointed down at her mother’s stockings. ‘The seams are all crooked, see?’
‘Oh, damn and bugger it!’ As a rule Beth never wore stockings; she much preferred bare legs, or a warm pair of socks inside boots or stout shoes. She was a farmer’s wife, not a townswoman.
Twisting herself round, Beth began tweaking the stockings, until the seams were as straight as she could get them. ‘How’s that, lass?’ she panted.
Judy nodded. ‘Much better, Mam.’
‘Right well, it’s time we were on our way.’ Looking in the mirror, she dabbed a discreet shaking of powder on her face, then a touch of lipstick, and then came the hat – a small round, blueberry-coloured thing. ‘How does that look?’ she asked, spinning round to face them.
‘Like a cherry on a cake,’ Tom remarked, making his daughter smile.
Ignoring his cheeky comment, Beth asked of Judy, ‘Do I look dignified, lass?’
The girl gave an honest answer. ‘Yes, Mam.’
‘And the hat – is it suitable for the occasion, d’you think?…And don’t look at your father; he’s got no idea.’
Judy gave her own opinion. ‘You look really smart, Mam. Rita would be pleased you’d made the effort.’
Beth regarded her daughter with a critical eye; the dark flared skirt and fitted jacket, and her light brown hair taken back in one thick plait. ‘You do us proud, so you do,’ she said with a generous hug. ‘Now then, are we ready or what?’
Tom was still tugging at the neck of his shirt; red in the face, he looked fit to burst. ‘It’s choking me, damn it!’
‘It’s me as’ll choke you, if you don’t stop yer moaning!’ Turning away, Beth winked at her daughter. ‘Look at our Judy,’ she told her husband. ‘She’s quietly got herself ready an’ not a word of complaint.’
Judy didn’t mind their friendly bantering; she had other things on her mind. ‘Do you think Don or Davie will be there?’ she asked. She’d dressed up with Davie in mind, just in case by some miracle he turned up; had wanted to look her very best. She knew it was silly. He’d have his heart and mind on his mam, not her. And she worried about how he’d been surviving, these past few days. He hadn’t been back to the barn.
‘I’ve been wondering the very same,’ Tom said. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me to see the lad there at some point. I mean, look how he stuck by his mam when everyone else turned against her. He’ll not desert her now, not if I know the lad, he won’t. As for Don, it’s a crying shame. He’ll probably not even know that the poor lass is dead.’
‘If he does put in an appearance, do what you can to persuade him to stay, Tom,’ Beth said. ‘Tell him he can have a home with us for as long as he wants.’
A few minutes later, with Tom lagging behind, still moaning because he was ‘being throttled by this blessed tie!’ the three of them made their way to the car. The old Morris Minor was in a bad humour today, and needed the starter-handle to get it going, by which time Tom had taken his tie off again, and had muck on his hands.
‘I hope Joseph was ready when they came for him,’ Tom said, breathing a sigh of relief as the engine caught. ‘I don’t expect he’s had a wink of sleep.’
As they made the short journey to St Peter’s Church, the conversation centred on Rita’s father. ‘You needn’t worry about him not being ready,’ Beth replied. ‘When we popped in yesterday, Judy and I went through everything with him – the time the undertakers would be there to collect him, and what he would need to wear. He had it all set out on the sofa ready.’
‘Aye, well, you never can tell with Joe. He’s a stubborn old devil when he puts his mind to it.’ Tom recalled his conversation with the older man. ‘I said it might be best if he stayed with us for a few days, and that we’d follow Rita to the church from here, if he wanted. But he were adamant that she had to go from
his house, and try as I might, there was no persuading him otherwise.’
‘To tell you the truth, Tom, I never wholeheartedly agreed with your suggestion, kind though it was,’ Beth said now. ‘Joseph is used to his own four walls about him. Besides, I happen to believe he was right to insist that Rita was taken to the church from his house. It’s the accepted tradition, and she was his daughter, after all.’
‘And God help anyone who has a daughter like that!’ As Tom thought of the poor young woman dying in his cart, his heart broke at the pity and waste of it, and for Rita’s devastated family.
Over in Derwent Street, Joseph Davies took a last look in the mirror. His beard was neatly trimmed, and the night before, he had had a bath in the old tin tub. His shoes were shined and his fingernails trimmed. He had done his best for his daughter.
Turning to the photograph of Marie, his wife, he told her: ‘Jesus promises us we’ll be reunited with our loved ones, so I don’t fear for Rita, knowing you’ll be with her and our little baby Matty.’ He sobbed as he spoke, then went on, ‘I know that you and our Rita were good women; you never meant to do anyone harm. You both had hearts of gold – ’twas some strange quirk in your natures that made you run wild. I feel I failed you both, and now I long to be with you. If God is kind, He will let me join you in heaven. But first, I have young Davie and Don to look out for.’Tears ran down his face, and he took a long, withering sigh. At that moment, he heard the sound of an engine, and pulling aside one of the curtains, which were closed throughout the house, he saw the hearse draw up at the kerb. Inside was a coffin, covered with the flowers he had ordered. This was the third member of his family he had seen to their last resting-place from here, and his heart cracked under the burden of his sorrow.
Bracing his shoulders, and saying a last, brief prayer, the old man went to open the front door to accompany his daughter to the church.
The Loner Page 8
