by Irene Carr
Matt rubbed a fist on his jaw, leaving a smear of black grease. He muttered, troubled, ‘I’d never thought of it like that. I won’t have people thinking of Katy in that way. I took her in because I couldn’t turn her and her little girl away, and I don’t know how I’d have managed without her.
Fleur thought that he would have to. She said, with feigned sadness, ‘We’ve got to do something for her sake, Matt. It’s—’ She hesitated, not wanting to dignify the girl with her name, already thinking of her as ‘that woman’. But she went on, ‘It’s Katy’s reputation that will suffer. She’ll have to go, Matt.’
His head jerked up. ‘What? Turn her out of house and home? I can’t do that. No, I’ll move.’
Fleur did not like that, had wanted to be quit of Katy for good, but she could see Matt’s antagonism to that idea and agreed, ‘You’re right, of course. The simplest and best thing to do now is what you intended in a month or so. Find some lodgings today, and as soon as there’s one room fit to live in at our house, then move in. Let’s tell that decorator man this afternoon that he must finish one room for you.’
Matt agreed reluctantly, ‘I suppose so.’ And then: ‘I must tell Katy and make sure she doesn’t think she’s being accused of anything improper. I wouldn’t want her hurt.’
Fleur thought that she had cauterised this sore just in time.
They crossed the yard together and Fleur waited in the office while Matt shrugged out of his overalls. She had visited the office once or twice but had hardly got past the door. Now her eyes flicked over the desk with the vase of flowers which Katy had introduced, and sharply noticed the neatly made bed under the counter. It was only a few yards from the foot of the stairs leading up to the flat and her lips tightened.
They climbed the stairs together and Fleur smiled with false sympathy as Matt washed and explained to a quiet Katy, her tears dried, ‘I just never thought of —’ he paused to choose his words ‘— our arrangement, that way.’ Katy thought that Fleur would. He said, ‘I won’t have old wives talking about you, so I’m moving.’ He told her what he intended and Katy listened while Fleur looked on. Matt finished awkwardly, ‘This won’t make any difference to us. We’ll just go on as before.’
Katy saw Fleur’s eyes flicker and said, ‘I’ll pack your things. They’ll be ready when you get back.’ Fleur did not like that; Katy saw the flicker again, quicker than a snake’s tongue. But Fleur said nothing and Katy knew she was silent because she realised she had won.
Matt left with Fleur then, clattering down the stairs, and he called a farewell. Katy did not go to the window to see them drive off in the cab. After a while she descended to the office and tried to absorb herself in her work because Matt had said, ‘We’ll go on as before.’ She failed miserably. They would not go on as before because Fleur
would be watching them now, for any word or action, however innocent, which might be construed as affectionate. Matt might not realise that but Katy did. She thought that she could simply leave as Fleur wanted. Katy had made a lot of money in the past months. She had enough to rent a comfortable house — But then she rebelled. She was a partner there, had helped to make the business successful and would not give it up.
Katy walked to the National School and met Beatrice, then together they called on Annie Scanlon and they all had a cup of tea. Afterwards Katy brought Louise and Beatrice back to the flat above the office, because this was their home and here they would stay.
Matt departed for lodgings that evening, carrying the suitcase Katy had packed for him. In the next few days Katy stripped his bed, washed the bedding and put it away in a cupboard then covered the bed with a dust sheet. Matt asked Katy, ‘Can you look after Beatrice until I’m married?’
Katy answered, ‘I’ll keep her as long as you’ll let me.’ She suspected Beatrice would not be happy with Fleur. So Beatrice stayed on in the flat.
Fleur became a frequent visitor at the yard, calling suddenly, unexpectedly, sometimes even on foot and at all hours. Katy greeted her with cool politeness and Fleur would stand with her arm in Matt’s or her hand on his shoulder, possessively. Beatrice once asked clearly of Matt when he was with Fleur, ‘Who is that woman?’
Old Mrs Ecclestone collapsed a week before the June wedding and died within twenty-four hours. Fleur was distraught — because Matt suggested postponing the nuptials. ‘No,’ she said bravely, ‘we must go on. Mother would have wanted it so.’ Fleur certainly did not want a postponement. With the death of her mother she had lost her only official source of income. She had to make sure of Matt now. So she buried her mother with great mourning on Friday and made a gallant recovery in time to walk down the aisle on Saturday.
It was a day of brilliant, burning sunshine. Fleur was ravishing in white silk and Matt handsome in a good suit. Fleur had refused to have a bridesmaid, though Matt had proposed Beatrice. Instead Louise and Beatrice spent most of the day with Annie Scanlon. Katy received an invitation from Fleur — prompted by Matt. Most of the guests were friends and relatives of the bride. Matt’s brothers and sisters were scattered far and wide and wrote apologising for not being able to attend. His guests were men he met in the way of business, with their wives. And Katy.
The reception was held at the Palace Hotel and while Fleur had seated several of Matt’s guests on or near the top table, Katy found her place at a table furthest from Matt. Afterwards there was dancing and on another occasion Katy would have loved to put Annie’s dancing lessons to good use. Instead Katy sought out her hostess. Fleur was on the edge of the dance floor with men clustered around her. She was in animated conversation, eyelashes fluttering and slender fingers gesturing so her rings caught the light.
Katy excused herself, ‘I have to go back to the children.’ She could not say she was sorry.
Fleur’s smile was wide, that of a victor. ‘Of course. I can understand how you feel. Goodbye, Mrs Merrick.’
The band struck up then, a waltz, and Matt came to claim his bride because they were to lead off the dancing. He whirled her around the floor, Fleur with her head back and smiling. She knew now that she could relax, was ‘home and dry’. She had hooked this man and secured her financial future. She laughed as they passed Katy, who saw the light of triumph in Fleur’s eyes.
Katy walked home across the bridge to Monkwearmouth, oblivious to the ships in the river and the clanging electric trams with the Saturday crowds filling the seats and standing in the aisles, swaying to the motion. She collected the children from Annie Scanlon, who chided her, ‘Didn’t you stay on for the dancing? I’d ha’ thought a young lass like you would ha’ jumped at the chance.’
Katy forced a smile. ‘I think these two little girls will be the better for bed and I can do with an early night. We’ve been busy at the yard the last week or two.’ That was true but it was not that which had wearied her. ‘Thanks for looking after them, Annie.’
Katy took the two girls back to the flat. When they were in bed and sleeping sweetly, Katy sat in an armchair staring into the cheerless bleakness of an empty grate; the weather was too warm for a fire. She knew she had made another terrible mistake, instinct told her that. After Howard’s seduction of her and his cynical betrayal she had sworn never to trust another man. Now, by her stubborn adherence to that oath, she had let Matt walk out of her life with another woman. She might not have won him but she could — should — have tried. Now it was too late. She would not commit adultery and she was sure Matt would never betray his vows to Fleur. Katy was desolate.
Chapter Sixteen
MONKWEARMOUTH. JULY 1914.
It was a fine summer but for Katy it came at the end of a very bad year — and there was worse to come.
Marriage had not changed Fleur and she was always watching, or so it seemed. She appeared at odd times and on odd days, as she had before she married Matt. Katy worked at her desk in the office with one eye always on the gates of the yard. This was not because of any sense of guilt for there was nothing between her and Ma
tt, Katy was painfully aware of that. She watched for Fleur so she could avoid her, because whenever they did chance to meet Fleur would make some comment like: ‘You’re looking tired, Mrs Merrick. I hope my husband isn’t working you too hard.’ Katy could not relax even when Matt said ruefully, ‘Fleur has gone to Durham for the day to do some shopping.’ Because on occasion she returned far sooner than might be expected.
Katy could imagine Fleur shopping. She suspected that a large part of Matt’s share in the profits of the partnership were spent by Fleur. That share was not overgenerous, either, because they had bought another Dennis lorry with a War Office subsidy, making six in all, and taken on another two men to crew it. Most of the money the firm made was ploughed back in this way. Katy spent some of her share on clothes, crisp white blouses and mid-calf length skirts for her days in the office, a pink silk suit with a skirt which almost hobbled her ankles for day wear and a lilac silk gown which floated lightly. If Matt noticed he did not comment, but Billy Nicholson, who had asked them to move his bricks all that while ago, told him, ‘By lad, that lass is a good advertisement for your business!’ She also bought some furniture for the flat and decorated it — and finally took a holiday she would bitterly regret.
In the last week but one of that hot July Katy took the two girls to a boarding house in Whitley Bay. They spent their days sitting on the sand, paddling, fishing in rock pools, building sand castles or digging complicated -water-courses. It was a happy time and they left for home at the end of it tired but sunburned and happy. Beatrice pleaded, ‘Do we have to go home?’
Katy laughed but sympathised. She had found a world of relief in the childhood play, had contrived to forget her latest mistake, or at least had pushed it to the back of her mind. She said ruefully, ‘I’m afraid so.’ And told herself she was happy.
Howard Ross was not. He sat in a pub on the dockside of Newcastle that was filled with seamen off the ships in the Tyne. Ross stood out from the rest in, his expensive checked suit with narrow trousers and ornate waistcoat. Men walked carefully around him; he was known and feared. This was where his girls plied their trade. One of them sat opposite him now. Once a plump and jolly country girl, she was now afraid for her life. Howard demanded of her, ‘What the hell! She’s gone where?’
The girl faltered, ‘She said down south. Didn’t say exactly but I supposed she meant London. She said she had done a turn or two with this feller and he told her he’d look after her if she went down there.’ She shrank back from Howard’s glare. She knew he was quite capable of venting his anger on her, violently.
He demanded, ‘When did she tell you this?’
‘About an hour ago. She was just leaving the house as I came in.’ Howard Ross ran a ‘boarding house’ for his girls. This one went on, ‘I saw she was carrying a case and I says, “Where are you off to? Your holidays?” Joking, y’know. And she says, “I’m going away down south. I’m finished wi’ this place—’ But Howard cut her off then, backhanding her out of his way as he headed for the door. She watched him go with her hand to her bruised face, fear and hatred in her eyes.
He made for Newcastle Central Station and ran at full pelt, shoving aside people who got in his way. He knew the train his girl would be on and when it was due to leave. He arrived only in time to see the tail of it disappearing from sight. He paused for a minute, catching his breath, glaring at the now empty platform and cursing. He had lost a source of income. After a time he shrugged and turned away, thinking that he would just have to find a replacement. It was as he was passing through the station that he saw Katy.
For a moment he could not believe it was her because this girl was not poor and frightened but laughing and well-dressed in a silk suit. Then he could not believe his luck. ‘Katy Merrick,’ he said softly. ‘And done well for herself. She must have married some feller in a good way o’ business. And two bairns. One o’ them will be mine.’ He calculated: ‘Must be the little one.’ Now he was happy, his fortunes and good temper restored.
When Katy returned to the yard in the early evening she found Matt’s Vauxhall, with its fluted bonnet, standing outside the office. He had bought the motor car at Fleur’s urging — but he wanted it. She liked him to drive her about the town where she would be seen. To Matt it was a toy. Katy did not begrudge him the car — it was not an extravagance. He could well afford it out of his seventy-five per cent share of the business. Katy was satisfied with her own twenty-five per cent share. That was well-earned, but there would be no business without Matt’s mechanical expertise. He kept all the lorries running efficiently.
Some of the men were still working, exchanged cheerful greetings and made much of the children: ‘Did you have a nice holiday, Bea?’ ‘And what about you, Louise? Did you go plodging?’ Louise nodded vigorously. She had spent most of her time at Whitley Bay paddling in the sea. One of the men explained, ‘The boss asked us to
stop back to finish a special job, Mrs Merrick, but we’re just about done now.’
Matt came out of the office at that moment, shrugging into the jacket of his suit. He hailed Katy: ‘It’s good to see you all back and looking so well! We’ve missed you. I tried to keep the office work up to date but it’s fallen behind a bit.’ He grinned at her. ‘But only because we picked up a lot of extra jobs this week. I’ve been working late every night. We’re on top of the world, Katy.’ Then he glanced at his watch. ‘But Fleur has been complaining, at not getting out, so tonight I’m taking her out for supper and a show. I’d better hurry.’ He wound up the Vauxhall’s starting handle then vaulted into the driving seat. He paused then to call above the tickover of the engine, ‘Annie is waiting for you upstairs in the flat. She’s wanting to hear all about your week away — and to get her hands on the girls again.’ He laughed and drove down the yard and out of the gates.
Katy watched until he was lost to sight, then she turned back into the office. As she entered, Annie Scanlon, ruddy and beaming, came hurrying down the stairs from the flat and calling breathlessly, ‘Hello, bonny lass! And two canny bairns! I got your postcard. And you’ve all had a lovely time?’
The girls told her all about their holiday as she put them to bed. When they were sleeping, Katy and Annie settled down with a cup of tea. It was a half-hour later when Katy heard a knock at the office door. She stood up and peered out of the window. ‘I thought all the men had gone.’ The yard was empty and the gates closed but not bolted and she concluded, ‘One of them must have forgotten something or want to ask me about a job.’ And she told Annie, ‘I won’t be long.’
Annie assured her, ‘I’ll listen for the bairns.’
Katy ran down the stairs, calling, ‘I’m coming!’ She crossed to the office door and swung it open. Howard Ross stood smiling at her.
For a second, shock ruled her. She recoiled and her hands went to her mouth, the blood drained from her face and Howard’s Cheshire cat grin danced and wavered before her. Then it steadied as he took a pace towards her to lean on the doorpost. Katy asked huskily, throat dry and tight and heart thumping, ‘What are you doing here?’
Howard flapped a hand carelessly, ‘Just visiting. I saw you on the station at Newcastle and thought you’d be worth following.’ His eyes drifted over her insolently, inspecting, penetrating. Despite herself, Katy felt the blood rush back into her face now and colour her neck. Howard laughed, ‘I’ll always find you, whenever I want you. And I want you now.’
‘I don’t want you.’ Katy tried to shut the door but his boot was jammed against it.
Howard still smiled: ‘It looks like you’ve done well for yourself. Nice clothes and you’ve somebody in this business — I heard how the men were talking to you, as if you were the boss, or the next best thing. And still using your own name. Are you the boss’s bit o’ stuff?’
‘No!’ Outrage wrung that out of Katy. ‘No, I am not!’
Howard’s brows lifted and he taunted her, ‘But you’d like to be.’
‘No!’ Katy had control of herse
lf again but was furious because he had tricked that reaction from her. ‘I work here, that’s all.’
Howard shook his head, ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘I don’t care. That’s the truth.’ Katy’s fear was now giving way to anger. She grasped the nettle and demanded, ‘Why are you here?’
Howard shrugged, ‘Just showing a fatherly concern. I heard the men talking to the bairns when you came in here today. I don’t know who owns Bea but the little one, that the men were calling Louise, she’s mine. You’ve only got to look at her.’
Katy knew that was true but denied him: ‘She’s not yours because you deserted her and me. We were nothing to you and you are nothing to us.’
At last Howard’s smile disappeared. He said softly, ‘You’ll be whatever I want you to be, do whatever I want you to do.’ His glare burned into her. This had always worked before with the girls who worked for him and he was confident it would again. He leaned towards Katy: ‘You can start off with a payment for services rendered. Give me ten pounds and—’
‘Ten pounds! Katy cut in, staggered by the request. Ten pounds was a month’s wages for a well-paid tradesman. ‘You’re mad!’
That infuriated him. ‘Mad? We’ll see who’s mad! You pay up or everybody around here will know all about you. I don’t know what tale you spun them but we’ll see what happens when they hear the truth!’
Katy hesitated for a moment. There was a temptation to give him the money to be rid of him. But then she remembered the kind of man he was and knew he would be back for more. She met his glare and told him coldly, ‘You can tell what you like to who you like. I won’t give you a penny.’ Howard reached out a hand towards her and she shouted, ‘Annie!’
‘Aye?’ came from upstairs. Howard froze, eyes lifted to the ceiling.
Katy called, ‘I’ll be up in a couple of seconds. Will you pour me another cup, please?’
‘Aye! I will! This minute!’
Katy still held the door firmly. Howard’s hand hung a few inches before her face but he knew she would scream if he touched her. He was also sure that she would fight. He recognised that instinctively, though it had never happened before with any of the other girls. Then there was this Annie upstairs who would be a witness. He turned away and strode off across the yard. Katy watched him go, turn into the street and out of her sight as the gate swung shut behind him. She ran across the yard and shot the bolts on the gate then leaned back against it, breathing deeply, feeling sick and shaky as reaction gripped her. Then she remembered Annie, walked back to the office and up the stairs to the flat.
