Durham Trilogy 03. Never Stand Alone

by Janet MacLeod Trotter

  Vic, she was not so sure about. He was charming and friendly one moment and then moody and losing his temper the next and she often found herself intervening between him and other members of staff to prevent a row. She was not surprised that he had lost a string of youth opportunity trainees and noticed that he was reluctant to take on full-time workers to whom he would have to pay a proper wage.

  Still, she was happy. Thanks to Eddy, she had found lodgings with Lesley Paxton and left the strained atmosphere at Mafeking Terrace, although she met Kelly regularly for a lunchtime sandwich at Dimarco’s cafe. It was almost like old times, as long as she kept off the subject of Mick, which she found difficult to do.

  Carol lived for the times when she saw Mick after work when they would take off on the motorbike and roam the Durham countryside together. From the Dales in the west with their pale stone villages to the lush farmland in the east, they explored places Carol had never even heard of and time and time again they returned to Durham City, Carol’s favourite spot. They rowed on the river, walked the riverbank and drank in old pubs. On Miners’ Gala Day, Carol danced through the Durham streets with Kelly in front of the Brassbank lodge banner and met up with Mick and Sid at the fair, dragging the men away from listening to Eric Heffer and Arthur Scargill. For that day Kelly seemed to forget her animosity towards Mick and the four friends celebrated around the town together. Yet Carol enjoyed it most when she had Mick to herself.

  The only blight on their relationship was the attitude of Mick’s parents. Carol was acutely aware that they did not approve of the amount of time he spent with her and she felt awkward when she was at his house. Only Linda - who followed her around like a puppy - seemed pleased to see her and asked her questions about clothes and punk rock, which only annoyed Mick’s parents the more.

  ‘Why don’t you move out?’ Carol constantly urged Mick. ‘Get yourself a place of your own like you said you would. It would be so much easier for us to see each other and you could afford it.’

  But she felt Mick’s resistance to the idea and she silently cursed the hold his family appeared to have on him, the clannishness that excluded her. Sooner or later, Carol determined, he was going to have to make a choice.

  For his part, Mick had rediscovered his enthusiasm for the bike since going out with Carol and also his interest in everything around him. The countryside, Brassbank, the sea, his work, all took on a new vibrancy. He looked back on the time before Carol and thought how dull and aimless his life had been without her. But increasingly he worried about his family’s suspicious attitude towards her. Whenever he brought Carol home, his father would swiftly disappear to the allotment while Linda would flock like a vulture to question her and gawp at her punk clothing. But the worst was his mother’s stiff politeness, offering her refreshment but nothing more, keeping her well at arm’s length.

  Mick always felt uneasy around the house when Carol was there, frightened she would react to the hostility and cause another scene. Increasingly he made excuses for her not to call round, preferring to pick her up from Lesley’s and not have their every move scrutinised by his family. She began to badger him about moving out, which annoyed him, because she could not understand how much it would hurt his mother. His desire to leave home had always been half-hearted. He just wanted to leave well alone and let things go on as they were, keeping everyone happy.

  But towards the end of the summer it provoked a major row. It was Linda’s fourteenth birthday and she was having a special tea before going out to the pictures with her friend Denise. Mick had arranged to meet Carol later after the birthday tea, but she turned up unexpectedly on their doorstep, brandishing a present.

  ‘It’s for Linda,’ Carol said brightly as Mick answered the door. She saw his look of alarm. ‘I am allowed to say happy birthday, aren’t I?’

  ‘Aye, it’s just everyone’s here,’ he mumbled.

  ‘One big happy family,’ Carol mocked. ‘And me coming in is going to spoil it, I suppose.’

  ‘Carol,’ Mick gave her a desperate look, ‘I thought we were meeting later.’

  ‘I came to see Linda,’ Carol reminded him, ‘but if I’m not welcome, forget it.’ She pushed the present at him and stormed off. ‘And you can forget tonight an’ all!’ she shouted back.

  Mick closed the door on the shouts of inquiry from inside the house and ran after Carol, grabbing her arm in the street.

  ‘Don’t walk off like that!’ he said angrily.

  ‘Get off me!’ Carol struggled to release his hold.

  ‘I thought you understood,’ Mick accused.

  ‘Oh, I understand! It’s obvious you’re ashamed of me. I’m not good enough for your precious family, am I? That’s what they think and now you’re beginning to think it too.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Mick answered, pulling her into a side alley away from the inquisitive stares of neighbours. ‘Why are you so bothered about a bloody tea party? It’s only for Linda.’

  ‘It matters because Linda’s the only one who gives me the time of day. At least she speaks to me when I come round. Your parents treat me like a bad smell. I wanted to give Linda something and see her on her birthday. Is that such a crime? Have you any idea how I feel being snubbed by your family, being the only one not invited? For goodness sake, Mick, we’ve been going out for three months and I’m not even invited round to tea. My own family aren’t speaking to me - you’re the only family I’ve got!’ Carol glared at him in desperation.

  ‘Carol man, they’ll come round to you in time.’

  ‘No they won’t,’ she answered fiercely. ‘We could give your parents a hundred years, but they’re never going to accept me. So what are you going to do about that, Mick?’

  They stared at each other unhappily, but Mick seemed lost for words. Carol knew then that he was not prepared to stand up to his family for her sake.

  ‘You’re a coward, Mick Todd,’ she told him harshly, ‘and I don’t want to see you again.’ When he slackened his hold on her she ran off up the street, fighting back her tears of frustration and anger. She had come round on the spur of the moment, wanting to force the issue with him. It made her so angry that she was not included in the Todd household when she was Mick’s girlfriend and she thought by bringing a gift she could ingratiate herself with the family. She yearned to be accepted by them; if not loved then at least liked. What a fool she was!

  Perhaps Kelly had been right all along about Mick. He was not to be trusted; he had used her. Commitment frightened him and he would rather finish with her than risk his family’s censure. Torturing herself with her doubts and fears, she ran on.

  Eventually she found herself making for the beach and the consolation of the crashing, sighing waves. If he did not stand up for her over the small issues, what chance was there of him supporting her over the big ones? she thought miserably. If they were to part, Carol had no idea where she would go or what she would do. All she knew was that she would be unable to face Brassbank, with the constant reminders of what might have been. She would not be able to bear her parents’ triumphant reaction that they had known all along that Mick Todd was no good for her. Carol buried her face in her hands and let the sound of the sea drown out her tormented cries.

  When Mick returned, the room fell silent. Their faces told him they knew what had been going on.

  ‘Here,’ he muttered, thrusting the wretched present at his sister.

  Linda tore off the wrapping paper to find a pair of tartan trousers with zips in the legs, just like Carol’s.

  ‘Eeh, they’re lush!’ she squealed. ‘Look, Mam!’

  Lotty gave a despairing look. ‘You’re not going punk too,’ she told her youngest. But Linda had already rushed from the room to try them on. She came back in the figure-hugging trousers.

  ‘I love them! Why didn’t Carol stay to tea? Will you tell her I really like them?’ Linda enthused. ‘I’m going to wear them tonight.’ She pogo-ed out of the room to answer the door to her friend Denise, wh
o came in dressed all in black.

  ‘You come straight home after the film, mind,’ Charlie warned.

  The girls promised and clattered out of the room.

  ‘She’s a strange one, that Denise,’ Val commented. ‘Fancy wearing black all summer long.’

  ‘It’s your niece I worry about,’ Lotty sighed. ‘She’s wanting to wear everything that Carol wears. It’ll be the hair next - blue or something terrible.’

  ‘Not in my house she won’t,’ Charlie snorted, folding up the evening paper.

  Lotty eyed her silent son. ‘Are you going out later?’

  Mick shook his head. ‘Not any more.’

  Knowing looks were exchanged around the quiet kitchen.

  Lotty brightened. ‘Well, you could go over and fetch Grandda, take him for a game of dominoes.’

  ‘Aye,’ Mick agreed without enthusiasm. He was furious with Carol for having put him in such an awkward position and angry with himself for handling it badly.

  But suddenly Uncle Eddy piped up, ‘I think you should come for a drink with me. We haven’t been to see Lenin in The Ship together for weeks. How about it?’

  ‘Go on then,’ Lotty waved them away. ‘Your dad can fetch Grandda. You get yourself out, son. You’ve been neglecting your family and friends around the village these past months.’

  Everyone knew it was a criticism of Carol and the way she had monopolised him over the summer.

  Mick hauled himself up, suddenly eager to be away from the stifling kitchen and the stares of his family.

  ‘You deserve better than Carol,’ Lotty called after him, ‘and there’s plenty more fish in the sea, as Eddy always says.’

  Mick gave her a hard look and left.

  There was silence a moment when he and Eddy had gone, then Charlie said, ‘I told you not to worry. It was all bound to blow over sooner or later.’

  Lotty gazed out of the window after her son. ‘I’m not so sure,’ she murmured. She had expected to feel relief that things between Mick and the Shannon girl were heading for the rocks; she had actively encouraged the break-up, for she disliked Carol. She hated the way she looked, the way she tried to worm her way into the family, the hold she seemed to have over Mick. It annoyed her, too, that they were beholden to Nancy Shannon’s daughter for coming to Eddy’s rescue. And that, Lotty suddenly realised, was the problem. Carol was Nancy’s daughter. Nancy, who had once been one of them, Nancy Hutchinson, schoolfriend and neighbour, was now high and mighty Nancy Shannon who thought herself above them all and had forgotten where she came from. Every time Lotty looked at Carol she was reminded of that; she could not help herself.

  Now watching her unhappy son stride away down the back lane, Lotty felt a pang of guilt and wished she had not been so critical or hard on young Carol. Then she turned and saw Val clearing the table to show her some new dress patterns and felt her resolve return. If Carol had been as sensible and hard-working and obliging as Val, she would have had no qualms about Mick courting her. Her son deserved someone who would look after him properly and in time make him a happy, comfortable home to come back to after a hard day’s work at the pit. And Carol Shannon, Lotty knew, was quite incapable of that.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Go and find Carol,’ Eddy ordered. ‘You can’t let other people stand in the way of your happiness.’

  Mick was surprised by Eddy’s urgency for he had not thought his uncle had noticed the undercurrents of hostility at home.

  ‘Why can’t she just accept things as they are?’ Mick argued. ‘Everything was going fine. Mam and Dad just need more time to get used to her but Carol can’t see that.’

  ‘You know that’s not true.’ Eddy fixed him with his bright eyes. ‘Your mam and dad don’t approve of her. How do you think Carol feels about that when her own family have kicked her out an’ all?’

  Mick shrugged uncomfortably.

  Eddy put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m the last bugger should tell anyone about commitment, I’ve run away from it all me life. But if you care for the lass,’ he said gently, ‘then don’t miss your chance of happiness with her. She needs you to stand by her, Mick man. No one else has.’

  Mick saw the compassion in his uncle’s eyes and felt a leap of encouragement. He set down his pint on the round wooden table.

  ‘Aye, maybes you’re right,’ he murmured. He was too shy to say just how much he did care for her, but he suspected his uncle already knew.

  Carol stubbed out her fourth cigarette and went for a swim. The tide had come in and the sea seemed to beckon her in with its whispering spray. She left her clothes on the rocks and plunged into Colly’s Leap. Already the sky was darkening, marking the end of long summer days, and the water was icy cold. Black thoughts took hold of her. No one knew where she was and who would notice if she slipped under the freezing waters and never came up again? No one would come looking for her until she failed to turn up for work on Monday, or maybe Lesley might grow concerned if she was not there in the morning.

  Maybe she should return to London. Why not admit coming home had been a terrible mistake, for where now was home? Carol plunged her head underwater to rid herself of defeatist thoughts. When she re-emerged she thought she heard something.

  With a gasp she made out the shape of a man standing on the cliff above her. Then he disappeared from view. Carol swam for the rocks and heaved herself out, feeling suddenly vulnerable and very alone. She pulled on a T-shirt and struggled into her jeans and was reaching for her leather jacket when the man reappeared out of the gully. He came towards her and all at once she recognised the square shoulders and long hair in the semi-dark.

  ‘Mick?’ she whispered.

  ‘Carol!’ As soon as he spoke her name she knew it was all right. They rushed to each other and his arms went round her in a fierce hug. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  ‘Me too,’ she admitted.

  They kissed urgently and clung to each other, Carol shaking with relief. ‘Don’t let’s fall out again,’ she cried. The thought of being without you, being alone ...’

  ‘You’ll never be alone again, I promise,’ Mick said, kissing her tenderly. ‘I want to marry you, Carol.’

  She searched his face. ‘Is that what you really want, Mick?’

  ‘Aye, it is.’

  ‘But your family?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what they think. It’s you and me that matter. I’d like them to wish us well, but we’ll do it anyway. How about it, Carol?’

  Carol kissed him in reply. ‘Oh, Mick, I love you so much. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Aye, bonny lass,’ he grinned at her, ‘I do.’ He pulled her tight against him and kissed her hard once more.

  It was the following week before Carol plucked up the courage to go and tell her parents. In the end she could not face going to Granville House but she knew her mother would be at Fay’s on Wednesday after her aerobics class in Brassy church hall. She got a lift with Vic who took the news with his usual amused detachment.

  ‘Well, break it to them gently,’ he pleaded. ‘I don’t want my wife miscarrying.’

  Carol knew that Fay was expecting their first baby in December. The news had at least served to distract her parents from her affairs. Carol thought with optimism that they might be pleased she wanted to settle down.

  But their reaction was one of shocked indignation.

  ‘You’re far too young,’ Fay scolded, distractedly pacing up and down the conservatory. Nancy was rooted to a cream leather chair, quite speechless.

  ‘I’m nineteen. You were going out with Vic at the same age,’ Carol pointed out.

  ‘That’s different,’ Fay said, waving her hands about as she did at her shop assistants. ‘We went out for four years before we married, we really knew each other.

  ‘You can’t possibly know this Todd boy properly. It’s a passing phase. You’re only doing this to shock us, as usual.’

  ‘He’s not a boy.’ Carol was indignant. ‘He’s older than
you, Fay. And I know him well enough to want to marry him. I’m not doing this for anybody’s sake but mine and Mick’s.’

  This galvanised Nancy out of her speechless state. ‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you? That’s why you’ve got to get married. Oh, my God, what am I going to tell everyone? What’s your father going to say?’

  Carol turned on her in annoyance. ‘Why is it always so important what Dad thinks? I’m not pregnant!’

  ‘Then why have you got to marry him?’ Nancy asked in perplexity.

  ‘Because I love him!’ Carol said in exasperation.

  ‘Fay’s right,’ Nancy continued, dismissing the explanation, ‘you’re much too young to know your own mind. You’re just doing this to get at your father and me - being childishly rebellious as always. Well, if you must see the boy, then carry on until you grow bored, but don’t frighten us with talk of marrying a Todd. It’s just not suitable. Your father would never agree.’

  Carol had had enough. She walked over to the open conservatory door, shaking with anger at their scornful rejection. ‘I just came to tell you, not to ask permission. We’re going to marry as soon as possible. I’m not asking for any help, or a big white wedding. It just would’ve been nice if you’d managed to wish me well.’

  She left them among the humid houseplants, gawping at her. Swallowing her disappointment, she made her own way back to Brassbank.

  Mick was half expecting a summons and it was almost a relief when it came. He entered the pit manager’s office still dressed in his working overalls, hidden behind a mask of coal grime. Ben Shannon nodded for him to sit down. Mick remained standing, awkward but defiant.

  ‘This is just an informal word,’ Ben smiled, clasping his thick fingers together on the large desk. ‘Man to man.’

  Mick looked warily at the shrewd brown eyes studying him, the mendacious smile under the bushy grey moustache. Although he disliked Ben Shannon for who he was and for the way he had treated Carol, Mick respected him as pit manager. Shannon worked hard on behalf of the pit and was always bullish but fair in his dealings with the men. The pitmen knew where they stood with their manager and although he was a hard bargainer, he was always willing to listen. Even Mick’s father had grudgingly admitted that Shannon would do anything for Brassbank. But they were not here now to talk about the pit and Mick knew he must be on his guard in the face of Shannon’s ruthlessness. He waited and listened.