When, two days before New Year’s Eve, Lillian arrived on the doorstep with an invitation from Olive to see the New Year in with them, David’s first instinct was to refuse. It was only when Lillian began to beg the pair of them to reconsider that he wavered. It was an olive branch, Lillian insisted - sister and brother oblivious to the unintentional pun until Carrie began to giggle - and she knew their mam wanted to see her first grandchild.
‘Then she should have paid a visit, shouldn’t she?’ David responded. ‘Or are you telling me there wasn’t a time in the last four months she didn’t have a minute?’
‘I know, I know, but she’s stubborn and maybe she thought you would throw her out.’
David snorted.
‘She’s been in a right two an’ eight since she realised she wasn’t going to be asked to the Reeds’ New Year do,’ Lillian confided. ‘She’s been longing to see their house. Oh, Carrie, please come.’ Lillian turned her attention to her friend. ‘It’ll be awful if you don’t. There’ll only be Mam and Da and the neighbours, and maybe Walter and Renee, and I don’t want Isaac to be bored.’ Lillian blushed on the last words, not least because of Carrie’s delighted reaction.
‘Isaac? Isaac Wellburn? Are you walking out with him?’ Carrie had suspected for a long time Lillian was sweet on the young steelworker.
In the end, mainly because she knew Alec was not going to be present, Carrie said they would accept. ‘We could call in at my mam’s for a few minutes first,’ she suggested to David, and when he nodded without comment she sent him a grateful smile. Since the night of Matthew’s birth they had become more frequent visitors to her old home on her mother’s insistence. Her da made a fuss of his grandson and was forever bouncing the baby on his knee, but to Carrie’s knowledge he had never spoken to David unless David spoke first. It saddened Carrie, but she consoled herself with the thought that at least Billy and David were back to their old selves, ribbing each other and acting the goat as though the last nine months had never happened. She longed for her da to come and visit them but had reconciled herself to the fact that this was never going to happen now.
It was snowing slightly when they left the house on New Year’s Eve after sharing a meal with Ada in her room. Carrie had tried to persuade the old woman to accompany them to her mother’s, but Ada would have none of it. ‘I don’t want to traipse about the streets on a night like this, hinny, besides which Emilia would never forgive me if I didn’t see the New Year in with her.’ Ada cast a loving eye on the little tabby cat who was cuffing her six remaining kittens about the room. The kittens should have long since followed the two Ada had found homes for, but the old woman had got so upset over the ones that had gone that she had decided to keep the rest - not something, Carrie felt, Emilia approved of. The little cat had made it clear she had no time for her offspring and was already fluttering her eyelashes at Spud and Jonah, Ada’s two ginger toms who appeared ready and eager to fulfil their God-given role in life. ‘I’ve a drop of the hard stuff for when the clock strikes twelve, an” - Ada lowered her voice - ‘a nice saucer of cream an’ two pennyworth of cod bits for this lot, so we’ll be as happy as Larry.’
All the public houses were doing a roaring trade as Carrie and David passed them, the strains of ‘Bye, Bye Blackbird’ and ‘Black Bottom’, the year’s two popular hits, already wafting out into the bitterly cold air. David was carrying a sleeping Matthew, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, and Carrie was clutching a half-bottle of gin - Ada’s present to her mam and da - and a batch of teacakes she’d made that afternoon for her mam’s table, along with another for David’s mother.
In Carrie’s old home the glow from the fireplace and the Sunday cloth on the table - recently retrieved from the pawn shop - couldn’t hide her family’s reduced circumstances. The Christmas decorations - coloured paper cut up and clipped into shapes and hung on a piece of string - were brave enough, but with just Billy working and her mam taking in washing and ironing for some of the big houses Southwick way, money was as tight as it had ever been. But quite a few of the neighbours were there and they had all brought something to help the evening along; the atmosphere was merry and all the bairns were beside themselves with excitement.
It was with some reluctance that Carrie left with David an hour later. Difficult though it was between David and her da, she knew it would be worse at his mother’s and she was already regretting promising Lillian they would be there. But perhaps his mam would be different. Perhaps she really did want to pour oil on troubled waters, now she had a grandson.
It was snowing more heavily now, a carpet of white already settling on ground that was icy underfoot. David was again carrying Matthew, and he echoed her thoughts as he said, ‘We’re barmy turning out on a night like this for me mam, lass.’
‘It’s not for your mam, not really. It’s for Lillian, and your da as well. He’ll love having you there, you know he will, and Lillian wants us to be with her and Isaac. She’s been sweet on him for ages, you know.’
‘She shouldn’t let me mam within six feet of him then,’ David said darkly. ‘If anyone can put a spanner in the works, me mam can.’
‘All the more reason for us to be there and try to stop it happening then, I’d have thought.’
‘Stop my mother?’ David looked at Carrie pityingly. ‘You would have as much chance stopping a charging bull elephant as preventing her from doing and saying what she wants. Me da’s called her a she-devil before now, and he hit the nail on the head. I tell you, whatever Lillian’s said about olive branches and the like, here’s one who’s expecting nowt in that direction. Lillian’s too soft with Mam, always has been. She lets Mam walk all over her.’
Carrie stared at her husband as they reached the Suttons’ doorstep. This had all the makings of a wonderful evening.
Unlike the house they’d just left at the bottom of the street, there was no laughter and singing, nor rowdy shouts of welcome from the assembled company when they entered the spick and span sitting room after a perfunctory knock on the front door.
Mr and Mrs Kirtley from two doors up and their unmarried daughter who was well and truly on the shelf at thirty-four were sitting at the table, a cup of weak tea in front of the women and a small glass of beer in Mr Kirtley’s hand. Opposite them sat Olive and Lillian, and across the room, standing with their backs to the range, stood Ned, Walter and a red-eared Isaac Wellburn, the latter looking as though he was wishing himself anywhere but his present surroundings.
Walter raised his hand, explaining Renee’s absence by saying she wasn’t feeling too good the night and had gone to bed early, but Carrie wasn’t really listening to him. All her senses, every nerve and sinew in her body seemed to have frozen as she took in the tall dark man standing with one hand resting casually on the shoulder of the young mousey woman sitting on the remaining chair at the table.
‘Carrie.’ Lillian jumped up like a jack-in-the-box.
But Olive cut in and said, ‘Here you both are, and this is Matthew?’ her voice effectively checking Lillian’s impulsive dash. ‘I don’t think you’ve met Alec’s wife. Margaret, dear, this is Alec’s brother, David, and his wife and child.’
‘How do you do?’ Margaret’s voice held no trace of dialect, and Carrie told herself she should have been expecting this from all Renee had told her after Alec’s wedding. Mr Reed had apparently sent his only child, the apple of the old man’s eye, to one of those posh expensive schools which specialised in turning out young ladies of distinction. Not a boarding school though, but an establishment close enough for his darling to come home each night. However, although her voice was upper-class and perfectly pitched, it was also friendly, even eager, and the plain sallow face with its slightly pockmarked complexion and pale blue eyes was smiling.
‘How do you do.’ Carrie smiled back, keeping her gaze fixed on Margaret’s face although she was vitally conscious of Alec just behind his wife. And then she turned, took Matthew from David and busied herself with peeling away
the blankets from the child while David made conversation with Miss Reed - although she wasn’t Miss Reed any longer, she reminded herself, smiling at Lillian as her friend pushed her down into a seat.
‘What a beautiful baby.’ Alec’s wife bent forward the moment Carrie was seated. ‘Is he good?’ And then before Carrie could answer, she continued, ‘We aren’t really meant to be here, my father will be vexed we’re late but I think it only right and proper Alec sees his family on New Year’s Eve, don’t you? Have you seen yours?’ When Carrie nodded, Margaret twisted in her seat and looked up at her husband. ‘Carrie has been to see her family, dear. I told you, everyone does.’
‘So you did, Little Miss Always Right.’ Alec’s voice was indulgent. ‘Just so long as you make it clear to your father it was your idea to come, that’s all.’
‘Oh, I know how to handle Father.’
‘Now that I don’t doubt for a moment.’
While the two were talking, Carrie took the opportunity to glance at Alec. He was dressed very well, ‘like some jumped up mine-owner’ as David said bitterly later. The dark dinner suit and shining black shoes were of excellent quality, anyone could see that, and the thick tweed overcoat draped over one arm and the hat hanging loosely in his free hand equally so. Margaret hadn’t taken off her dusky pink velour coat but it was unbuttoned, showing a dress beneath of exactly the same material but encrusted with rows of crystals on the bodice, and her feet were encased in cream kid shoes. They oozed wealth and power, and instinctively Carrie’s arms tightened round Matthew.
Her gaze rested for a second longer on Alec, but she wasn’t seeing the dark, handsome face with its startlingly beautiful eyes as it was now; her mind had superimposed the image of features savage with lust. She shivered, her whole being recoiling, and in that second he glanced at her over his wife’s head. His face slowly lost its smile before he said softly, ‘You have a bonny son.’
She inclined her head but said nothing, then turned to David as he bent down to take Matthew so she could take off her hat and coat. ‘Thank you.’ She smiled at him in the brief moment when both their hands were joined round the child on her lap, and he smiled back, saying, ‘Lillian’s getting you a cup of tea,’ his head close to hers.
‘So, David, what are your plans for the New Year?’ Alec’s voice was pleasant although cool as it cut into the moment.
David straightened, the child now in his arms, and he looked at his brother long and steadily. The seemingly amiable tone didn’t fool him for a minute, he knew his brother too well for that. Alec was annoyed about something - probably the way they had last parted in this very room - and he was out to get under his skin, as only he could. Alec knew full well he was in no position to make ‘plans’ of any kind: none of the miners were. Earning enough to be able to pay the rent and put food on the table was all any of them could hope for these days, and he couldn’t even manage that.
Margaret, too, sensed Alec’s mood. Loving him as she did, she had noticed a change in him the moment Carrie and David had come into the house. She had gathered enough from remarks her husband had made that there was no love lost between him and his brothers, but it seemed this one in particular, David, was a thorn in Alec’s flesh. His wife was beautiful though. Margaret let her eyes rest on the clear baby-smooth skin of the woman in front of her and knew a moment of intense envy. That hair and skin combined with the deep blue eyes were striking.
‘We just want to enjoy Matthew for the moment, don’t we, David?’ Carrie’s voice broke the gaze of the two men, and Margaret noticed that as she rose to hand her hat and coat to Lillian, her sister-in-law positioned herself so that she was between the two brothers and had her back to Alec.
The ensuing oohing and ahhing over the baby relieved what had threatened to become an awkward moment, but Margaret found she was watching David’s wife more than the infant. Some time after their marriage Alec had told her one day that his brother had got the girl into trouble and this had been the reason for their hasty marriage. He had intimated that David’s wife was no better than she should be and that his brother had got himself a handful, but the young woman sitting quietly at her husband’s side didn’t strike Margaret as a loose type at all. Quite the contrary in fact. But then, she had only met her tonight so how could she judge?
Margaret’s pale blue gaze moved to the baby who was now in his grandmother’s arms, and again she experienced a pang of envy. She hoped they would have a child soon. She didn’t mind if the first one was a boy or a girl, although she knew most men wanted a son, but she longed to be pregnant with Alec’s child. She glanced at her husband as the thought hit and saw his eyes were fixed on the infant. He would make a wonderful father. He was wonderful altogether.
Ten minutes or so passed before Alec made a move to leave. As Margaret was buttoning her coat, Alec turned to his mother and said, ‘May I?’ holding out his hands for Matthew.
Carrie froze for a second and then as Olive passed Matthew over, her heart jumped into her mouth. The baby gurgled and smiled as he did at everyone these days.
‘He’s taken to you, Alec,’ Olive said. ‘He knows you’re his uncle, that’s what it is.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘Oh aye. If you’re a bit nervous with them they sense it right away, like dogs.’
In the ensuing laughter Carrie found her hands were bunched at her sides as she fought the urge to snatch Matthew away. She didn’t want Alec touching him, not for a moment, but she could see what Olive meant. Alec was handling the baby as though he did it every day of his life, showing none of the male awkwardness that Walter and Ned had displayed.
Carrie stood stiff and staring, wondering if anyone else could see what she was seeing. They were so alike. But of course everyone would assume this was natural in an uncle and nephew, and the baby wasn’t unlike David. Under his soft baby features, Matthew had the straight Sutton nose and firm chin all the brothers had. Did David see the marked resemblance to Alec? She didn’t dare glance at him.
But perhaps she was imagining things here, because she knew Alec was Matthew’s father. Certainly she had dreaded this moment ever since the child had been born, and it had been a huge relief when David had flatly refused to attend Alec’s wedding. Foolishly - she admitted now - she had been hoping that the bad feeling between the brothers would mean their paths would never cross, especially now that Alec had gone up in the world.
Alec was aware of Carrie’s tenseness and it was all the confirmation he needed that his suspicions were correct. For his part, he was taken aback by the rush of emotion that flooded him when his son smiled up at him. It was one of the rare occasions in his life when he was experiencing regret. Not that he would have changed any of the decisions he had made regarding Margaret and his marriage, he assured himself silently, his eyes taking in each feature of Matthew’s tiny face. He wanted what his marriage had brought him. But he would have liked this child to have come from a union between Margaret and himself, that was all.
‘Give him here, you have to be off.’
When David took the baby from him, Alec was again unprepared for the wave of emotion that came over him. But this time it was resentment liberally laced with jealousy. As David held the infant against his chest and Carrie took her husband’s arm, her other hand moving up to stroke the baby’s head, he could have socked his brother on the jaw. Instead he contented himself with saying, ‘He’s a bonny lad, considering he was so early.’
Carrie’s eyes shot to his face, and in the fleeting second before she dropped them, Alec thought, aye, he’s mine all right. Even without the dates fitting so perfectly, he could read it in her eyes.
‘What do you mean?’ David’s voice was flat but the edge to it was pure steel.
‘Mean? Nowt.’
‘Come on then if you’re going, Margaret’s father will be wondering what on earth has happened to you.’ Olive’s voice was brisk but there was a warning in it too. She didn’t want a scene in front of the neighbours,
not on New Year’s Eve. Mr Kirtley had a very nice little hardware business and his daughter was a secretary in a solicitor’s office. You didn’t air any dirty washing in front of people like that, let alone Mr Reed’s daughter. She didn’t know what Alec was thinking of to come out with a crack like that.
When she had ushered Alec and his wife out of the front door and waved them off, Olive turned back into the room, her gaze going immediately to the baby. She hadn’t expected to feel any affection for her grandson. Of all the children she had borne, only Alec had stirred her maternal love and this she admitted quite readily to herself. The others were at best an irritation and at worst a liability. And so she had been prepared to feel nothing for David’s child, especially with the mother being Carrie McDarmount. But . . . She stared at Matthew who was now being dandled on Lillian’s knee. He was a nice little thing with a ready enough smile; charm the birds out of the trees, he would, when he was a bit older. She couldn’t remember David ever being like that.
Chapter Ten
The weeks since New Year’s Eve had seen nothing but sleet and snow, and bitter, unrelenting cold. The sky was so low it seemed to rest on the frozen rooftops, and the masts of the ships in Wearmouth docks were lost in swirling grey mist which soaked through clothes and boots far quicker than ever rain did.
The Most Precious Thing Page 15
