by Maggie Hope
‘I want to look in the shed, it’s the last one. She might have been there and dropped something.’ Cath looked up into his face. How had she not noticed before how hard he could look, how his lips went into such a thin line? She stood her ground though her heart pounded in her chest.
He had put the dog down and it was nosing about in the grass following some animal scent. Now he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him.
‘Don’t touch me,’ she said, and again through clenched teeth, ‘Do not touch me or I’ll scream the place down.’
Jack grinned. ‘Go ahead, scream,’ he invited her. ‘There’s no one about. Who do you think will hear you?’ Cath tried to pull away but his grasp only became tighter. He pulled her towards the shed with one hand and opened the door with the other and thrust her inside.
Cath was furious rather than frightened. She struggled violently against his grip and pulled herself loose, but he easily caught her by the wrists and held her against him.
But Cath was not finished yet. The time when Eric held her down when she was nothing but a child flashed into her mind and she was filled with hate. She slumped against Jack and he laughed softly.
‘Just playing hard to get, weren’t you?’ he asked, laughing ‘Well, I’ve had enough. I’m not going to hurt—’
Whatever he was going to say or do, he was stopped by Cath, who, taking advantage of his slight relaxation, had turned her head and bitten deeply into his lip. Jack exclaimed and let her go. Stepping back, he tripped and fell to the ground. His legs were across her feet but she managed to kick them off, stepping over them to get out. As an afterthought, she pulled the door to and with a great effort managed to slide the padlock over the sneck and force it closed. She stood for a few brief seconds listening to him swearing softly but, when she heard him begin to move about, she ran up the field towards the road. Her breath was coming in great painful gulps but she didn’t stop until she was within sight of the village. She might have scarred him for life, she thought.
Patsy hadn’t seen a newspaper or listened to the news on the radio for a while. Both she and Jim had been busy cleaning out the new council house they had been allotted.
‘By, Jim,’ she said as she scrubbed at the bits of cement still clinging to the front doorstep where some careless workman had dropped it. ‘This stuff is hard to get off.’
‘Aw, get out of the way, woman, I’ll scrape it off with a knife,’ Jim replied. He knelt down and chipped away at the bits. ‘Bloody council workmen,’ he grumbled. ‘Wouldn’t get a job with a decent builder, they wouldn’t.’
‘Still,’ said Patsy, ‘it’s lovely isn’t it? And everything’s so nice and new. I love it here, Jim.’
Jim sat back on his heels, job done and smiled. ‘Aye, I know you do. Better than Bell’s Buildings, isn’t it?’
They had slept in the house last night, though most of their furniture from the old house was still to come. But Patsy wanted it all clean for the furniture van coming today, and they already had a new carpet laid in the living room and the surrounding floorboards were varnished and shining. They smelled a bit strongly but Jim had opened all the windows and fresh air blew through the house. It was a novelty to be able to open the windows because the ones in the house at Bell’s Buildings were stuck tight with years of overpainting.
It had been a bit strange sleeping in the new bed from the Co-op store in the room right next to the lovely bathroom that had hot and cold water and a washbasin and lavvy and a shining white bath with gleaming taps. But it was lovely, all the same. Patsy didn’t envy Sadie her house miles from anywhere, no matter how big it was. Any road, it was old even if it did have some modern conveniences. Jim interrupted her thoughts.
‘Howay then, let’s get back to the old place. The removal men will be coming in an hour or so. You want to be there when they pick up the stuff, don’t you? I have to go to work this afternoon, an’ all.’
‘I’m coming.’
Patsy hurriedly removed her apron and the scarf she had wound into a turban round her head, folding them and putting them on the windowsill for want of anywhere else. Then she put on her coat and hat and followed him out of the house. It wasn’t a long walk to Auckland Road, though it took them about three-quarters of an hour, for Patsy kept meeting women she knew and, of course, she had to tell them all about her new house, even if they had heard it before. It was the first time she had felt really happy since little Annie left and went back to her slut of a mother.
‘You shouldn’t say that about your own sister,’ Jim had remonstrated with her when she had said it.
‘No, mebbe not, but that’s what she is,’ Patsy replied tartly. ‘That poor bairn is left to God and providence and has been since she was a babby.’
‘Forget about her today, Patsy,’ said Jim. ‘I thought you said you were happy?’
‘Oh, I am.’
They turned off Auckland Road and went under the arch to Bell’s Buildings. By, it looked like something out of Oliver Twist, she thought. Come tonight, she would never ever come back here.
‘Look, you must have left the door open,’ said Jim and pushed at it so that it clattered against the wall of the passage. The living room looked strange with all the ornaments packed up in cardboard boxes waiting for the removal men.
‘I’ll go upstairs and bring down everything I can,’ said Jim. ‘It’ll save time later.’ He bounded up the stairs, his steps sounding loud and hollow on the bare boards, for the floor-covering was already rolled up and tied with string at the bottom. Patsy was just checking everything was out of a cupboard when she was shocked out of her mind by loud screams. Was there an animal up there that had somehow got in? No, it was a child. Annie? How could it be Annie?
‘Jim? What is it?’ Patsy called up the stairs. The screams had dulled to a low whimpering. She ran up the stairs.
‘Look at this,’ said Jim. The door of the tiny closet in the corner of the bedroom was open and Annie was crouched in the corner.
‘Annie! What’s the matter, pet?’ Jim stooped and attempted to lift the girl up but she struggled free from his hands and ran past both him and Patsy, heading for the stairs. She caught her foot in a crack in the old wood on the tiny landing and went head first with a sickening series of bumps and fell in a huddle at the bottom. Patsy ran down after her and picked her up. Thank God she had fallen on the rolled-up stair covering and it had cushioned her fall, so at least she hadn’t knocked her head on the concrete floor at the bottom.
Patsy sat on the stairs cradling Annie. The girl’s body was stiff and unyielding and after a moment she struggled wildly to be free before she realised it was Patsy who held her, then she relaxed against her aunt.
‘I’ll take her and lay her on the sofa,’ said Jim, who had come down behind Patsy. But when he put his hands on the child she screamed and clung to her aunt.
‘Just give me a pull-up and I’ll manage,’ said Patsy. Soon they had Annie on the sofa with Patsy perched precariously on the edge, for Annie was still clinging to her. After a few minutes the girl quietened and gazed at her aunt.
‘You weren’t here,’ she whispered. ‘I came for you and you weren’t here.’
‘No, we were at the new house,’ said Patsy. ‘But why, pet? What happened?’
‘You didn’t come back and I waited all night,’ said Annie. She sounded like a three-year-old.
‘I’m sorry. But I didn’t know you were here, did I?’
‘Tell Aunty Patsy what happened,’ said Jim. ‘What’s the matter, hinny?’ Annie didn’t answer him. She shrank away from him and against Patsy.
‘Leave her be,’ said Patsy.
Jim shrugged. ‘I’ll go and get a paper then.’
Annie had stopped sobbing and was lying quietly when he ran back into the house carrying a Northern Echo.
‘Look here,’ he cried. ‘She’s on the front page!’
‘Who is?’
‘Annie! Annie is on the front page. She’s lost, it says. It
says that daftie did something to her!’
Patsy couldn’t make head nor tail of what he was talking about so she grabbed the paper from him. Sure enough, there was a school picture of Annie and a story about her and Ronnie Robson and how he admitted meeting her in the woods and running after her and God knows what else he had done to her.
‘Eeh, Jim, no wonder the lass is in such a state,’ Patsy cried. ‘By, if I get hold of that lad I’ll murder him, I will, I’ll crucify him, the dirty bugger!’
‘I think you had best have a proper look at her, see what he has done to her, like,’ said Jim. ‘Shall I go for the polis?’
‘No, no, don’t do that. The poor lass is in a worse state than Russia, now, she doesn’t want the polis asking questions, no, not yet. I wish I had her to the new house. I’m sure she would be better if she had a nice bath and something to eat inside her.’
‘Wouldn’t it just happen when we’re moving? But I tell you, I think we should tell the polis. I’ll walk up to the station now.’
Annie was shivering and crying as she clung to Patsy. Damp was seeping through to her aunt’s skirt and stockings. ‘Put the kettle on the gas ring, then. I’ll have to clean her up a bit before anyone sees her and besides, she’ll catch her death like this if she hasn’t already.’
Patsy lit the fire she had sworn she would never light again and filled a washbasin with warm soapy water. Annie was drooping now, her eyes beginning to close, and she had almost stopped shivering. Gently, Patsy took off her clothes and gasped at the bruises on the girl’s thin thighs and stomach and arms; all over her, in fact. It was obvious she had put up a fight with him, Ronnie Robson or whoever it was. She was just slipping an old dress of her own on Annie to cover her nakedness before anyone came in when the door opened and the removal men came, and the police, and shortly afterwards an ambulance man.
Annie started to scream and shake. She tore herself away from Patsy and ran for the stairs and the cupboard in the corner of the bedroom. The look of terror and betrayal she flung over her shoulder at Patsy, her aunt would remember all her life.
Chapter Seventeen
‘When she gets out of that place Annie can come and live with us,’ said Patsy. ‘At least she’ll get looked after properly.’
‘What the hell do you mean?’ Sadie squared up to her sister. ‘You’d best watch your mouth, our Patsy, or I’ll give you a hiding you won’t forget.’ Sadie looked ready to carry out her threat, with her hands bunched into fists and her face red with fury. ‘I looked after her all right, and any road, she’s ten for God’s sake, it’s not like she’s a baby.’
‘Aye well, she’s always been a bit femmer,’ said Patsy. ‘Poor little lass cannot stick up for herself – she’s frightened of everything.’
‘That was no reason to put her in Winterton,’ said Sadie, conveniently ignoring the times she had told Annie that Winterton was the best place for her. ‘Well, she’s coming home now.’
‘She wants to live with me,’ said Patsy stubbornly. ‘And it’s no good going for me neither, I can give as good as I get now, I’m not a kid. You can’t beat me up like you did when I was smaller than you, not now.’
‘Aw, you were as soft as our Annie is now. A bloody crybaby, that’s what.’ Nevertheless, Sadie stepped back.
‘It was me she came looking for when she was attacked, wasn’t it? Not you, she knew she’d get no sympathy from you. She’s coming to live with me and Jim, I’m telling you.’
Sadie glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf. ‘Aye well,’ she said. ‘You can have her. I get next to nowt off her dad for her. Mind, I’m not paying a ha’penny towards her keep.’ She was fed up with the argument and besides, it was almost one and Henry was calling for her. They were going out for the afternoon and later, dinner at the Grange. Besides, she thought, as she closed the door behind her sister, Henry didn’t want Annie about the place. He would rather forget all about her. It had taken her a long time and a lot of cajoling to get round Henry, and she wasn’t going to upset him again, not while there was a chance of getting him to marry her.
‘Annie’s going to live with Aunt Patsy?’ Cath was taken aback when her mother told her the following day. It was Sunday, so Cath was home all day. She was planning to go to the hospital to visit Annie in the afternoon.
‘Aye, she is,’ Sadie replied. She was sitting at the kitchen table drinking strong tea. Her hair was wound up in tin curlers and covered by a turban made from an old woollen headscarf and there were remnants of last night’s make-up still smeared around her eyes. She took the dangling cigarette from her mouth to take a sip of tea. ‘It’s for the best, any road,’ she said. ‘You dad’s not interested since the new bairn came, and our Patsy’s always had a soft spot for Annie.’
‘I’ll miss her,’ said Cath sadly. Annie had been in Winterton for a month but she was getting out next week. The doctors said she was all right but Cath knew she wasn’t. If Annie had been like a scared rabbit before, she was worse now.
‘Do you want to live with Aunt Patsy in Shildon?’ Cath asked as she sat in a corner of the visitors’ room with her sister.
Annie didn’t speak, simply nodded her head. She rarely spoke these days. In any case, Cath knew Annie hadn’t forgiven her for not coming home the night it happened.
‘If you’re sure,’ said Cath. ‘I’ll come and see you as often as I can, you know that.’
Just then Patsy and Jim came into the room and Annie’s face showed a little animation for the first time as she turned to them. Patsy had brought a bag of liquorice allsorts and an Enid Blyton book, a new one, not a library book but one for Annie to keep. She didn’t say anything to Cath, simply nodded hello and gave Annie all her attention. Jim had a copy of the Empire News with him and he settled down on a chair and began to read.
‘I’ll go now,’ said Cath. ‘See you soon.’ Annie nodded. In the doorway, Cath turned to wave but neither Annie nor Aunty Patsy was watching.
Oh well, Cath thought as she sat on the bus for Bishop Auckland, it was better all round. But she would miss her little sister. Just as she had missed Timmy and still did, even though it was all those years ago that Mam had given him away.
The bus ran down Durham Road and up past the bishop’s castle to the marketplace. The town-hall clock struck four as Cath alighted from the bus. Brian was waiting for her; a tall figure leaning against the bus stop, his dark hair that was cut in the new longer fashion in a vee at the back lifting in the slight breeze. They had been dating lately, something Cath had drifted into rather than planned.
‘All right then?’ he asked, smiling down at her, and suddenly she did feel happier. Happy enough to smile back at him and allow him to take her hand and walk down Newgate Street with him. They passed other couples and sometimes groups of lads eyeing up the groups of girls walking by on the other side, giggling when a boy wolf-whistled. The girl being whistled at would walk by with a deadpan face and her nose in the air but her cheeks would be pink. Newgate Street might be the main shopping street in the town but on Sundays it belonged to the young, those now called teenagers.
Afterwards they would meet up in Rossi’s ice-cream parlour, and this was where Brian and Cath headed for now. They found an empty booth at the back and Brian ordered coffee. They sat opposite each other, oblivious of the others now piling into the shop.
‘How was Annie?’ asked Brian.
‘She’s fine, she’s coming out next week. She’s going to live with Aunty Patsy in Shildon.’
Brian nodded. It was for the best. Some people in the two mining villages blamed the Raines for what had happened. There was poor simple Ronnie in a locked ward at Winterton and not likely to get out for years, if at all. And if he did, where would he go? Who would look after him? Granny Robson was dead. The villagers whispered she had died of a broken heart, though Brian knew it was really a seizure. She had been old but still active and she had cared for Ronnie. Some of the villagers reckoned Annie must have led him on. The whole Raine f
amily was no better than they should be. In fact, that Sadie Raine was a right tart. Look at the way she had carried on during the war when her man, poor fella, was away fighting the Germans. And look at her now, a disgrace she was. No doubt the lasses were the same an’ all.
Look what had happened to Alf: he’d brought a German woman back with him, a hoity-toity piece an’ all. He wouldn’t have done that if it hadn’t been for Sadie carrying on.
Brian looked at Cath and knew it wasn’t true that she was the same as her mother. Cath was his love; she would always be his love, no matter what. He couldn’t believe his luck on the day he had got up the courage to ask her out again and she had agreed.
‘Will you come back to our house for your tea, Cath? We have time before the pictures.’
Cath looked at him doubtfully. ‘I don’t know, Brian, what about your mam?’ Going back to the house for tea was practically a declaration of intent to marry. At least it meant they were seriously courting. And Cath wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted. She had somehow drifted into going out with him from sheer loneliness. Yet she was fond of Brian, she was.
‘Oh, come on, Cath. Mam will be fine. Any road, I mentioned to her you might come. The car’s just on South Church Road.’
How could she refuse, even if it did mean going into the village, and even though she had avoided both Winton and Eden Hope since it happened? So she nodded her agreement and walked with him along South Church Road to where the Standard was parked outside King James Grammar School and they drove out to Winton Colliery.
The Musgraves didn’t live in the rows, of course, Brian’s father being the Co-op manager. They had a bay-windowed house in the old village. It wasn’t detached or anything but it was on the end of a row of four set back with front and back gardens. There was a small dining room between the kitchen and the front room and the table was laid with matching china cups and saucers with a floral pattern around the edges. There were home-baked pies and cakes and egg and tomato sandwiches cut diagonally into quarters.
