Durham Trilogy 03. Never Stand Alone

by Janet MacLeod Trotter

  ‘I’ve always been a bit frightened of you, Carol Shannon,’ he teased in a low voice.

  Carol laughed. ‘Oh, yeah? You look terrified.’

  Sid put out a hand and pushed her hair behind her right ear. Carol felt herself tingle at the touch.

  ‘I was! You being Shannon’s daughter. A lot of the lads feel the same. But Kelly said you were just like one of us. Still, I never guessed I’d end up on the beach with you like this.’

  ‘Like what?’ Carol smiled, her green eyes laughing at him.

  ‘Right cosy and dying to kiss that big mouth of yours,’ Sid whispered. Then he leaned over and kissed her.

  For the second time that evening, Carol found herself being unexpectedly embraced, but this time she relished the excitement inside and the feel of Sid’s strong mouth on hers. He tasted beery and his moustache tickled as his kiss became bolder, but she responded happily. Sid was good-looking and fun and it was high summer and this was the best thing that had happened all day, perhaps all year, Carol thought dreamily as she relaxed back on to the black sand. Above them, the sound of 10CC pulsated out of the car and Carol thought she heard Kelly talking to herself in the dark. Then Sid’s hands brought her thoughts back to the beach and she wondered how far she should let him go.

  ‘He’s down there. We’ve got some lager left.’

  Carol became aware of Kelly’s voice again and suddenly realised by the sound of heavy feet that her best friend was not alone. She pushed Sid away and sat up, her heart still pounding from the feel of Sid’s mouth and hands on her. It must be her brother Simon or someone come to tell her off and drag her home and show her up in front of her friends.

  Sid gave her a rueful look before glancing over her shoulder.

  ‘Hello, marra! Come to spoil the fun at last?’ he called.

  ‘I found him lurking in the dunes,’ Kelly teased as she pushed someone down the gully. ‘Said he was on his way home.’

  Carol had an impression of a stocky man with long fair hair, jumping down on to the beach.

  ‘Me and Uncle Eddy are on our way home. I’ve lost Eddy somewhere having a leak. It was his bright idea to take a short cut along the beach.’

  Carol could see his face now, illuminated by the firelight: a strong, square face with piercing eyes that seemed to be regarding her with a strange fierce look. It made her shift uncomfortably and draw her knees up to her chest, her long hair falling over her face in protection.

  ‘Daft old Eddy,’ Sid laughed, ‘probably halfway to Hartlepool by now.’

  ‘Haway and sit down, Mick,’ Kelly insisted, plonking herself down on the cool sand. ‘Here’s a can.’ She opened it for him and pushed it at his mouth, easing herself closer to him. Carol observed his awkwardness but thought he seemed quite pleased at Kelly’s fussing. She certainly has a way with men, Carol thought in amusement.

  Sid turned to her and put a casual arm around her back. ‘Hey, marra, this is Carol - Carol Shannon.’ Carol blushed with pleasure, realising Sid was showing her off.

  ‘Aye,’ Mick answered stiffly. ‘Kelly told me who it was.’

  Carol bristled at the way Sid’s friend was giving her that cold stare again. What was his problem? Sid seemed not to notice.

  ‘Carol, this is my mate, Mick. We work together down the pit. Wouldn’t pass the time of day with the bugger otherwise,’ Sid joked. ‘He plays a shocking game of pool, and he supports Newcastle. All the Todds do - it’s a family failing.’

  ‘Supporting Sunderland shows your brain’s failing, Sid Armstrong,’ Mick quipped back.

  Realisation dawned on Carol. This was Mick Todd, Sid’s close friend, whom Kelly had talked about as one of the many blokes she fancied. Val Bowman, her employer and also Mick’s aunt, had pointed him out before, passing the boutique window, but he’d usually been helmeted on a motorbike and Carol had not been interested anyway. The Todds had a grudge against her father’s family for some reason and they were all too bolshie to speak to her. When the mother came into the shop she was stand-offish and insisted on being dealt with by Val. And as for the younger girl, Linda, she would stick out her tongue or screw chewing gum under the counter when Val was not looking and Carol would invariably get it on her hands or clothes after the kid had gone.

  And here was the eldest of the tribe, giving her bonehead looks. She had a sudden desire to make him dislike her further. It was the devil in her, she was always being told, but if people had a bad opinion of her, it merely made her the more mischievous.

  ‘One of the famous Todds, eh?’ she said, unwinding her legs and leaning on Sid’s shoulder. ‘I’ve heard a lot about them from me dad. You’d fight with your own shadows, he says. But you don’t approve of us Shannons, do you, Mick?’ she challenged. ‘Something to do with ancient history - so far back they don’t even teach it in school.’

  ‘Too recent to teach in school, you mean,’ Mick snapped back. ‘Nineteen twenty-six was only fifty years ago.’

  ‘Long before I was born,’ Carol smirked.

  ‘Well, perhaps if you bothered to find out something about what happened before you were born, you might not sound so cocky. But then I wouldn’t expect a lass like you to care a toss about the village or the pit or the people who support your comfortable life. Bet you didn’t even notice the strike here two years ago!’

  ‘Steady on, marra!’ Sid intervened.

  ‘You’ve no right to say that, you know nothing about my life,’ Carol protested hotly. She stood up, quite ruffled by his aggression.

  Kelly waved her down. ‘Stop getting your knickers in a twist! You started it.’

  Carol was unsure what to do. If she sat down, she would feel humiliated, like a reprimanded child. She was sure that was what Mick Todd thought of her anyway, a spoilt little rich girl; it showed all over his disdainful face. He sat there now, impassive and sipping at the beer Kelly had given him. Well, damn him for spoiling her evening with Sid and Kelly, the first real fun she’d had for weeks.

  ‘I’m going for a swim,’ she suddenly announced. When cornered, she usually did something daft to get her out of the original trouble, Carol mocked herself, and this seemed daft enough just now.

  ‘Swim?’ Sid queried. ‘You’re mad.’

  ‘I mean it,’ Carol laughed, pulling off her trainers.

  ‘She’s mad and she means it,’ Kelly said calmly. ‘I’ve seen her go mental like this before, specially on a full moon.’

  Carol had her jeans off and was heading for the sea before anyone could stop her. ‘Last one in’s a moron!’

  Sid laughed and called after her, ‘Haway, Carol, and wait for me!’ He struggled with his laces and fell around in the dark trying to peel off his clothes. ‘Come on, Mick, get your clothes o-off,’ he hiccupped.

  ‘No, ta very much, I’m staying a dry moron,’ Mick grunted.

  ‘Oh, haway, Mick,’ Kelly coaxed, ‘it’s a smashing night for a dip. I promise not to look while you take your kit off.’

  Mick looked with annoyance at the shadowy figure at the cold water’s edge, her white legs gleaming in the moonlight and long hair loose, and cursed Carol Shannon for upstaging him. He knew it was a challenge. Her actions were saying, if you Todds are so hard then prove it; follow me into the icy North Sea.

  ‘Oh, hell,’ Mick muttered and struggled to his feet. Kelly giggled with glee and kicking off her high heels ran straight for the sea in her skimpy disco clothing.

  Carol was already half submerged. She gasped at the shock of cold water about her legs, but made an effort not to cry out. She would soon be numb and not feel a thing. With a final plunge she struck out into the black water, ducking her head beneath a sluggish wave. She came up with a cry of delight.

  ‘It’s great, Sid, get yourself in!’ She watched a dark figure weave its way towards the sea. Carol laughed as he threw himself into the shallow water with a string of oaths about the North Sea. He floundered around like a puppy, splashing aimlessly in three inches of water and it suddenly occur
red to Carol that he might not be able to swim. He seemed quite content to sit in the gentle waves and shout abuse at the others. With satisfaction, Carol noticed that Mick was being goaded into the sea by a shrieking Kelly. Now let’s see how brave you are, Mick Todd, she thought.

  Carol turned and struck out a bit further. She relished the feel of the dark water about her and the bright moon above, making the cliffs and sand dunes gleam with a ghostly light. For a few moments she was completely free from the carping of her relations and the censure of villagers like the Todds who condemned her without even knowing her just because she bore her father’s name. There was just the sea and the dark beach and in the distance the lights of the pithead like a friendly beacon - permanent, reassuring, the heartbeat of Brassbank.

  Carol was aware that the tide was swiftly coming in and if she swam round the finger of rocks to her right, her favourite rock pool would be full enough to swim in. It was known locally as Colly’s Leap because there’d been a tradition of colliers jumping the rock pool as a feat of strength when Brassbank had first been sunk nearly a century ago. As a child she had spent hours down there with Simon, searching for crabs and filling an old shopping bag with the flotsam and jetsam of the sea. Fay had found the whole idea of playing on the polluted beach disgusting and had preferred to lie in the garden with a pile of romance comics, listening to the radio.

  Carol disappeared round the side of the rocks and let the tide lift her into the deep rock pool. The sound of the sea echoed around the natural chamber like giant whisperings and Carol thought with amusement of the mermaids she had conjured up in her childish imaginings. It was so calm here, so peaceful, so mysterious . . .

  Suddenly, to her right, she heard a thud and a heavy splash. She turned, grinning, expecting to see that Sid had pursued her round to the romantic pool, but there was no sign of him. She swam over to where she had heard the noise and strained to see in the dark. There seemed to be nothing and she thought it must have been something chucked in from over the rocks.

  ‘Stop carrying on, Sid! Show yourself.’

  There was no reply but Carol just caught a muffled sound above the sighing of the sea. She swam further under the cliff and saw one of the rocks move in the pool. All at once she realised it was a dark coat or jacket floating on the tide like a slick. A sudden panic seized her and her first reaction was to swim as fast as possible out of the pool away from the sinister sight. What if it was a person? What if it was a dead person? Carol froze. Then she heard the noise again, like a primeval cry, and something inside her forced her to go to the rescue.

  It was a man, and he was submerged, head down in the seaweed, weighed down by a heavy jacket. She grabbed a rock to steady herself and pulled hard at the coat, turning his head out of the water. But he was too heavy to hold and she felt him sinking back again.

  ‘Sid!’ she yelled. ‘Help me, for God’s sake, help!’

  Carol knew if she let go of the man he would sink out of sight, so weighted down was his clothing now. She launched herself into the water again and swam round him, trying to turn him and lift him and hold his head out of the water. At this, the man struggled and began to thrash with his arms. Carol felt a moment’s relief that he was still alive, but panic rose again as he knocked her in the face and she went under the water herself.

  Spluttering, she emerged and managed to scream, ‘Sid, help us, please Sid!’

  Then she felt the man grab feebly at her and take them both under the inky water. As her nose flooded, Carol was certain that this man was going to drown them both. She had no idea who he was or why he was here, but he was going to take her with him and her short, unremarkable life would end in Colly’s Leap.

  As she spluttered and heaved and tried to force them both on to the rocks, Carol had a vision of the headlines in the local paper, ‘Drunken teenager drowns in sea escapade after wedding’. Perhaps Pete Fletcher, the sardonic reporter, would write her epitaph. What a fitting end for Carol Shannon, they would all think.

  Everyone knew she was never going to come to any good. ‘I told you so’ would ring around the village. It rang in her ears now like a death knell ...

  Then, inexplicably, the drowning man pulled away from her and she found herself emerging again into the night air. Someone had hold of the half-conscious figure and was dragging him on to the rocks. She could hear him being rolled over. Carol flailed for the side, coughing and sobbing.

  ‘Is he breathing?’ It was Kelly asking.

  There was a sound of the man throwing up.

  ‘The bugger’s alive!’ Sid said. ‘Thank God.’

  ‘Thank Carol!’ was Kelly’s riposte. ‘Is she all right?’

  Carol gripped the rocks, spluttering and gasping for air. As she looked up, she felt strong hands grip her under her arms and heave her out of the water.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  She leaned back into wet arms, expecting to see Sid leaning over her but with shock saw that it was Mick Todd. Carol nodded, nauseous from the sea water, yet overcome by a sweet wave of relief that she was still alive and not a subject for the weekly newspaper after all. She was trembling with shock. She had had no idea how much she wanted to live until, for a brief moment, she thought life was about to be snatched away from her early by the black water. Carol started to shake.

  She became aware of Mick rubbing her cold limbs and was suddenly embarrassed by the feel of his muscled arms round her, his glistening wet body so close. His long hair was wet and straggly and tickled her shoulders and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face as he bent to see if she was recovering.

  Carol pulled away, unnerved by the unexpected intimacy. ‘I’m OK,’ she panted and cleared her throat of salt water. ‘Who is he?’ She nodded towards the groaning man, now supported in Kelly’s ample lap. Sid was wiping bile from the stranger’s face.

  ‘It’s me Uncle Eddy,’ Mick told her. ‘You probably saved his life, Carol. You’ve saved the life of a Todd.’

  She gave him a sharp look but saw the teasing in his vivid blue eyes - and something else that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps it was just gratitude.

  Carol managed a laugh. ‘Throw him back in then.’

  Sid came over and put his dry jacket round her. ‘Hey, pet, you’re shivering. You’re a brave lass. I’d have dived in myself but I can’t swim that well. Mick here has his uses.’ He gave her a squeezing hug and kissed her wet head.

  Carol welcomed the warmth, but noticed Mick glance away and the brief moment of closeness between them was broken. Perhaps she had imagined it anyway, in her relief at being rescued.

  She watched him walk over to Eddy and begin to talk to him in a gentle, concerned way. Carol flushed in the dark to realise he was only dressed in underpants and had been sitting so close to her moments before. He wasn’t tall, but he was broad and athletic in build and when his face smiled as it was now with his uncle, it struck her how good-looking he was.

  By now Kelly had reappeared from the beach with dry clothes and was standing close to Mick, his leather jacket draped round her own shoulders.

  ‘Get that sopping jacket off him,’ she said. ‘He’ll catch his death.’

  Eddy groaned. ‘Watch what you’re doing with that, it’s me oldest friend,’ he said, hanging on to his beloved velvet-collared coat. ‘Eeh, I think I drank something bad.’

  ‘Aye, half a gallon of sea water, you daft bugger!’ Mick chided him. ‘That’s the last time I let you lead the way home. What were you doing over there, any road?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Eddy said groggily, looking confused.

  ‘Trying to beat the Colly’s record, eh, Mr Todd?’ Kelly joked.

  ‘Na, he was taking a piss and fell in,’ Sid conjectured.

  ‘I - I was - I think I was flying,’ Eddy said, quite seriously.

  ‘Drunk as a skunk!’ Sid laughed.

  ‘Come on, Uncle Eddy,’ Mick said gently, helping him to his feet, ‘let’s get you home and dried off. Sid’s car’s jus
t up the gully.’

  ‘Feel free,’ Sid said. ‘Soak my seats.’

  Kelly suddenly screeched. ‘Eeh, I can’t gan home like a drowned rat, me dad’ll have a fit!’

  Carol looked at her own bedraggled state and groaned, ‘me too.’

  ‘We’ll all gan back to Mick’s place then,’ Sid announced. ‘It’s the nearest and your mam’ll have summat the girls can put on. Then I’ll drop them off home.’

  They all looked at Mick for confirmation and saw the reluctance on his face.

  ‘Haway, Mick,’ Kelly smiled, ‘we’re all freezing. Look at Carol, she’s going blue.’

  ‘Aye, OK,’ Mick agreed. ‘Eddy better sleep at ours tonight any road. I don’t trust him on his own.’

  ‘Stop fussing, I’m all right, man,’ Eddy complained.

  ‘Oh, aye? Flying home, are you?’ Sid snorted. He steered a shivering Carol towards the gully, keeping a protective arm about her.

  Back at the car, Sid put Carol in the front seat beside him, while the others squeezed in the back. Carol noticed how close Kelly snuggled into Mick’s shoulder and wondered why it should bother her in the least. She had more or less paired off with Sid Armstrong; she fancied him and was happy that he was making a fuss of her. So stop thinking about his friend, Carol told herself severely. You hated him on sight half an hour ago!

  It was only when they bumped up the back lane of Septimus Street that Carol came out of her stupor and realised with a lurch that she was about to go into the Todds’ house - the lion’s den. She had been too numb with cold and shock to take it in before. She should have insisted on being dropped off first. Even a telling-off by her parents might be preferable, to the reception she was likely to receive in the Todd household. And what a state she must look! But it was too late, Sid was steering her out of the car and into the back yard, from where she could see lights on in the kitchen.

  The door flew open and Lotty Todd stood on the back steps peering into the dark, her blonde hair piled high on her head, her small, neat body wrapped in a quilted dressing-gown.

  ‘What in the world - ?’ she gasped, catching sight of the sodden Eddy being helped in by Mick and Kelly. She gave a sharp look at the buxom girl in the wet skirt and T-shirt and then at her son.