by Maggie Hope
‘I like to sleep in your bed,’ said Annie. Her eyes were already closing. Cath took the flashlight and put it on the bedside table, then turned to cuddle her sister.
‘It’s all right, Annie,’ she said. ‘Everything will be fine.’
The house was called Half Hidden Cottage, though it was not so isolated as it had seemed at first. The drive curved away so that it couldn’t be seen from the road, but it was only a few minutes’ walk and there was a bus stop a few yards from the gates. The bus ran between Durham and Bishop Auckland too, which was handy for Cath going to work. She wondered why it had been built in the first place. Had some ancestor of the Vaughans’ built it as a love nest for his mistress? If so, it was well enough hidden. She hadn’t even known of its existence until they came to live in it.
The following Saturday, Cath walked up Castle Chare to Palace Green once again. Not on the off chance that she would meet Jack again, oh no: she just had a yearning to sit in the quiet back pews of the cathedral again and think things out. She looked up at the exquisite fretted stone screen erected by some long ago Lord Neville in thanksgiving for the English defeating the Scots at Durham when they had marched into England.
It was quiet in the nave, and her thoughts ranged over the last few weeks of living in Half Hidden Cottage. Her mam was happy most of the time, Mr Vaughan visited her regularly in the evenings and Cath and Annie would disappear upstairs out of the way. But it was when he wasn’t there that Sadie would become restless, and Cath knew she hated the quiet and the loneliness. They had always lived in among people. Sadie had fought more with her neighbours than become friends with them, but still, she missed them. And Annie was frightened. She was frightened of going into the large empty rooms by herself, she was frightened of being upstairs on her own, she was frightened of ghosts.
‘There’s no such thing,’ said Cath. ‘It’s just shadows. Put the lights on, it’s OK.’
‘You great soft baby, our Annie,’ Sadie jeered and crooned. ‘Crybaby, crybaby, put your finger in your eye, baby.’ And Annie’s eyes would be swimming once again. She had to catch the bus into Eden Hope Colliery on her own to go to school. Everything was a nightmare to her.
‘Oh shut up, our Annie,’ Sadie would say. ‘By, I should have given you away.’
Cath had come in one day as she said this and it made her remember Timmy, her little brother. ‘Don’t say that!’ she had shouted at her mother.
‘I’ll say what the hell I like,’ Sadie shouted back. ‘I’m sick to death of her snivelling, I am, I’m telling you! I might give her away an’ all, I can still do it, you know.’
It had taken Cath all evening to pacify Annie, who, in the end, had fallen asleep still murmuring, ‘She won’t, will she, Cath? You won’t let her, will you, Cath?’
Cath was remembering Timmy as she sat in the cathedral. Where was he? And the other one? The one her mam had been expecting when she went to Kent, chasing after the Canadian airman, where was he? And the one before? It would have been a he, Cath thought, as she sat on the hard wooden seat in the great cathedral and pondered on her life. There was a hassock hung on a hook on the back of the seat in front and she took it down and knelt on it, bending her head and folding her hands together as she had been taught in Sunday School. But her thoughts were too much of a jumble so God couldn’t be listening. Or else there was no one there. She sat up.
‘Hello, Cath,’ a man’s voice said, and for one insane moment she thought God had really spoken and her heart beat fast. Then she relaxed. It wasn’t God and no, it wasn’t Jack who sat down beside her.
‘Brian,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘The same as you, it looks like,’ he replied. ‘I come in here sometimes.’
‘Well, I’m going now, I have to catch my bus,’ said Cath, rising to her feet.
‘Me too,’ said Brian. ‘Would you like a lift?’
‘I don’t live in Auckland now,’ she replied. ‘Thanks all the same.’
‘I know where you live,’ said Brian. ‘It would be no bother to take you there.’
‘No thanks, I’ll get the bus. It’s due anyway.’ Cath walked down the aisle and out into a day of wintry sleet, which pricked at her cheeks like needles. Behind her Brian stood in the doorway by the brass sanctuary knocker and watched her go.
It was probably all over Winton and Eden Hope Colliery villages by now, Cath thought as she pulled her scarf up over her nose against the sleet. Sadie Raine was living in sin with a nob. But still, they had always known she was no better than she should be, hadn’t they?
Chapter Twelve
Jack gazed out of the window of the guest room. He was staying with Mark and his parents for the weekend.
‘Come to Staindrop, old lad,’ Mark had said. ‘It’ll please the old folk no end to have you. They’ll kill the fatted calf for you. On Saturday night we can go into Darlington and try out the local talent.’
Nigel and Daphne Drummond had only recently come back up north, buying an imposing old stone house set back from the green at Staindrop. Nigel had made a fortune during the war running a factory making some sort of army supplies. Now they were trying to cultivate the local gentry. Having Jack to stay was an achievement for Daphne.
Jack was already regretting accepting the invitation. He gazed out of the window and wished himself back in Durham or even at Eden Grange Hall with his father mooching around being miserable. Though he hadn’t been so bad lately … He’d seen that girl last Saturday, hurrying along from the cathedral and disappearing down an alley. He should have followed that up; she was probably quite amusing and she was definitely worth looking at with her great dark eyes and hair and white skin. It probably wouldn’t do, though; she was too close to home, living at Bishop Auckland.
Outside, the green beyond the hedge was ruffled by the wind and sleet ran down the windowpane. Jack pulled the curtain to one side and watched a couple of girls walk along the path bordering the green, their heads bent against the wind. One of them glanced up at the window and saw him standing there and smiled. Her mouth was a pillar-box slash in her white face. He dropped the curtain and turned back into the room, feeling exposed. Why did they live in a place where anyone could look in?
Mark knocked and put his head round the door. ‘Ready to go?’
‘Indeed,’ Jack replied. They went down the stairs together and opened the front door, whereupon Mrs Drummond, coming out of the drawing room, stopped them.
‘You’ll be in for dinner, boys?’ she stated rather than asked.
‘Yes, of course, Mrs Drummond,’ said Jack. ‘Wouldn’t miss it, looking forward to it. You know what university food can be like.’ He smiled at her.
‘We’ll see, Mother,’ said Mark. ‘We might be held up.’
‘Mark! I have dinner guests and they wish to meet you both.’
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Drummond, I’ll bring him back,’ said Jack.
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort,’ said Mark as they climbed into the car and took the road for Piercebridge and Darlington. ‘The old woman just wants to show you off to her friends. It would bore us both to death.’
‘We’ll see,’ said Jack. He glanced across at his friend. He had met Mark at school and they had been friends ever since. But for some reason he had not met Mark’s parents before; it had always been Mark who visited him. Now he was struck by how unlike Mark was to his parents. In colouring especially – Mark was dark while both his parents were fair. He was tall and slim, whereas his father was of medium height and stockily built. In fact, Mark had the same colour hair as that girl … Why on earth was he still thinking of the miner’s brat, the girl with the mundane name of Cath?
They sped along the road to Darlington, where Mark roared into the centre and parked outside the Majestic ballroom.
‘The local hop, is it?’ Jack asked as they followed a group of chattering girls in the queue for tickets. But he was feeling happier already as the strains of ‘Peg of My Heart’ could be
heard from the dance band inside.
It wasn’t until after eleven and Jack was crooning softly in a girl’s ear ‘Walking My Baby Back Home’ as they walked, arms wrapped round one another along Houndgate, that he remembered about the dinner. And that was because he suddenly felt hungry as they passed the fish and chip shop.
‘We’ll be in trouble,’ he said to Mark later as they retrieved the car and set off for Staindrop. It was one o’clock in the morning and the streets were practically deserted as they roared out of Darlington on the Barnard Castle road.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Mark. ‘Don’t you know you belong to the landed gentry, you can do no wrong in my mother’s eyes.’
‘Rubbish, the Edens were the landed gentry round here. My great-grandfather made his money in trade in the last century. Railways mostly.’
‘Three generations are enough for my mother. Besides, the Edens took off for the south. Never mind that, though, how did you get on with yours?’
Jack’s father was sitting on the sofa with an arm around Sadie. He was comfortable; there was a good fire in the grate and the curtains were drawn against the weather. Henry was disinclined to go home, and why should he, after all? This was his house, and Sadie was soft and compliant and he was very fond of her. Jack was away somewhere, staying with a friend. There would be no one at home; even the cook went back to her cottage every evening. Servants were hard to find nowadays.
Henry slipped his hand down the low front of Sadie’s dress, selected and paid for by him. His thumb rubbed the nipple and he felt it harden.
‘The girl’s in bed, is she? Will she come down?’
‘No, she won’t, not when you’re here,’ said Sadie. Her eyes were glazing and she licked her lips. ‘Oh, Henry, don’t stop, it’s lovely.’
‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said. ‘I’m getting too old for this rolling around on the sofa business.’ The excitement was building in him.
‘Quiet, then,’ whispered Sadie. They crept up the stairs and past the door of Cath’s room to hers, closing the door softly behind them. He undressed her, pausing once or twice to touch and kiss and feel particular places, and she undressed him, holding and caressing him until his half-hardened manhood was erect. They fell into bed and the springs squeaked slightly and Sadie moaned.
Along the corridor, Cath closed her eyes and tried to close her ears too. One of these days she would leave, she told herself. One of these days. But always it came back to the question of Annie. There was no way she could leave Annie. She put her arm around the little girl whom she had found in her bed fast asleep, with her thumb firmly in her mouth, when she came up. Would Annie ever grow up?
Even now, well over four years after the end of the war, Cath liked to see the lights of the city come on from the window above the sorter in the machine room. Though the days were getting longer, still it was dark before the end of the working day and the lights twinkled between the trees and on the bank that rose on the opposite side of the Wear. The large, cumbersome tabulator in the middle of the room clanked for the final time that day and Cath pulled the cover over her punch-card machine and picked up her bag. The other girls were talking and laughing now, but Cath had to get home; she couldn’t be sure that her mother would be there for Annie. She grabbed her coat from the cloakroom and ran down the stairs. If she hurried she would get to the bus stop in New Elvet in time to catch the bus at five. As she emerged into the street, she didn’t notice the car parked a short distance along or the man leaning against it with his legs crossed.
‘Hey, Cath!’ he called.
Cath stopped and turned and there he was. ‘Jack?’ She was surprised and delighted and mixed up. She took a hesitant step towards him.
‘Hello there, long time no see,’ he said. ‘Would you like a lift home?’
‘Hello, Jack,’ she said. Oh, Lord, she looked a mess, she knew she did. She wished she’d taken the time to renew her lipstick in the cloakroom, wished she had put on her new skirt that morning, wished she had had her hair cut and styled at that new salon in Silver Street. The car was parked right under a streetlight too. She put up a hand to push back a strand of hair from her brow.
‘I … I don’t live in Bishop Auckland now,’ she said.
‘Don’t you? Well, it doesn’t matter. Where do you live? Eden Hope Colliery?’
‘No. Nearer to Coundon,’ she replied.
‘That’s all right then, I’ll take you there,’ said Jack. ‘You want a ride, don’t you?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
He opened the door and she slid into the seat. A couple of the girls from the punch-card room stopped and looked as he got into the driver’s seat and set off, roaring up New Elvet. He said nothing until he was on the Al, then he glanced at her.
‘You’re looking lovely this evening,’ he said. ‘What do you say, shall we stop somewhere for dinner? Would you like that?’
Cath cleared her throat nervously. ‘I’m not dressed for it. Besides, I must get home. My sister will be on her own.’
‘Why do you have to be there? How old is she? Where are your parents?’
‘She’s ten. I don’t know, she will be expecting me,’ Cath answered. ‘We live in a pretty isolated place. She’s nervous.’
‘Oh, come on, we’ll have an early dinner. She’s not your responsibility. Besides, I’ll see you get home quite early. Nothing is going to happen to her.’
Perhaps nothing would. Sadie had been home more often lately too. Jack was slowing and turning into the forecourt of the Bridge Hotel at Croxdale.
‘Jack,’ Cath said weakly. She looked at the front of the hotel. It was lit up and exciting and she had never eaten a meal out in anything other than a café before. ‘Will I be home before half past seven?’ she asked.
Jack grinned. ‘Of course you will. I’ll have a word at the desk. They won’t be serving dinner yet, but I’m sure they’ll rustle up something.’ He parked the car and they went into the hotel.
‘Wait here,’ he said. ‘I won’t be long.’ Cath hovered a few yards behind him, very conscious of her shabby coat and plain lace-up shoes. Her bag was leather but the saddler at the pit, who made them in his spare time to make extra money for Christmas, had made it. Jack came back.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We can go into the residents’ bar. They can serve us there.’ He took her arm and led her along the corridor to a small room with a bar at one end. A man in a white coat was polishing a glass behind the bar.
‘Good evening, sir, madam,’ he said politely. ‘What can I get you?’
Jack ordered pink gins and they took them across to deep leather armchairs by the fire. Cath drank hers too fast and the fire of it burned her throat and she coughed. Suddenly everything seemed slightly hazy. She had forgotten about Annie, or rather, getting back to Annie no longer seemed important.
They ate omelettes and salad and slices of chicken in a lemony sauce and Jack ordered a bottle of white wine. Cath took a sip but no more. She didn’t like it.
‘It’s not a bad wine, is it?’ Jack asked. ‘Not the best, but drinkable.’
‘No,’ said Cath. She took another tiny sip. It was awful; she would never be able to finish it. But the food was lovely and she was hungry. Jack watched as she cleared her plate.
‘You liked that, anyway,’ he said and she blushed. Had she eaten it too enthusiastically?
‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘Thank you for the meal.’ She got to her feet and Jack looked surprised.
‘Already?’ he queried. ‘But we could stay, we could—’ He stopped. He had been about to say they could take a room but something told him that would not go down well with her. Still, he had made a start.
They went out into the cold of the night and Cath stumbled against him, feeling a little dizzy. He put his arm around her and laughed.
‘Whoops! Lean on me, you’ll be fine,’ he said softly.
Safely in the car, he leaned over to her and kissed her softly on the lips and her mouth
opened a little. His hand was on her breast and suddenly it was under her jumper, pushing her bra up to free her breast to his touch. For a minute she was swept along with him. She closed her eyes and let the exciting sensations sweep over her. He nibbled her ear.
‘I think I love you,’ he whispered softly. ‘You’re so sweet. Let’s go back in, I can get a room, please darling. It will be OK, I’ll look after you.’
‘No, no, I can’t, Jack, no.’ She could smell the wine on his breath. What was she doing? Dear God, she had almost let him. She struggled and he resisted. ‘Let me go,’ she whispered, for a car had pulled up beside them and a man was getting out. He looked at them curiously. ‘Let me go,’ she said again. ‘I have to go home.’
‘Oh, all right,’ said Jack, frustrated. ‘You bloody virgins make me sick.’ He sat up and started the car and drove out on to the road. They drove through Spennymoor in silence and took the road for Bishop Auckland. Cath sat beside him quietly. He was annoyed with her, she could tell. Now he would finish with her, he wouldn’t come back. But Jack seemed to have recovered his spirits by the time they had driven through Spennymoor and were heading for Coundon.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said and smiled at her, and her heart lifted. He wasn’t going to finish with her. ‘Where to now?’
‘Turn off here,’ she said as they approached the opening to the drive leading to Half Hidden Cottage.
‘Here? Are you sure?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course I am,’ she replied with a small laugh. ‘Mr Vaughan rented this place to my mother.’
‘My father keeps your mother in Half Hidden Cottage?’ Jack was incredulous. But then, hadn’t he known there was something going on with his father? Of course he had. He had speculated to himself whether his father was seeing a woman but he never for a minute thought that it had gone this far.
Cath watched the changing expressions on his face; the incredulity was turning to anger. He hadn’t known about his father and her mother; she could see he had not and he didn’t like it.
‘Get out of the car,’ he said eventually. ‘Go on, get out!’
