Durham Trilogy 03. Never Stand Alone

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Durham Trilogy 03. Never Stand Alone Page 14

by Janet MacLeod Trotter


  Linda’s mouth tightened. She could not admit to their hostility towards her.

  ‘Your mam’s dying to see you. Couldn’t you just come home for Christmas?’ Carol pleaded.

  ‘Dan and me have planned a special dinner, it’s all booked at the local pub - after he’s been to see . . .’ Linda hung her head.

  Carol stretched out a hand. ‘You could pop home and see your family too. Come tomorrow, Christmas Eve.’

  Linda flinched and moved out of her reach. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You can,’ Carol urged. They won’t give you a hard time; they’ll just be pleased to see .you.’

  Linda’s look was harrowed. ‘I can’t face them, Carol.’

  Carol began to lose patience. She could not bear to think of the lively Linda cooped up in this soulless flat, killing empty hours waiting for Dan to return. And if he cared for her so much, why did he spend all his time with his other mates?

  ‘Look at yourself, Linda man! You’ve cut yourself off from everyone who cares for you. If Dan really loves you, why is he afraid of letting you see your own family?’

  Linda suddenly burst into tears. Carol leapt across and hugged her. Laura looked up, startled.

  ‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ Carol urged.

  ‘Oh, Carol,’ Linda sobbed. ‘It’s me who’s afraid of seeing them. Oh, God, Carol, I-I’m pregnant!’

  Chapter Twelve

  1984

  ‘What do you mean he won’t marry you?’ Lotty was scandalised.

  ‘We don’t want to get married,’ Linda told her mother, her look stubborn. The family were gathered in the cosy sitting room in Dominion Terrace, but tempers were growing hotter than Carol’s roaring coal fire behind its protective glass screen.

  ‘I’ll see that the bugger weds you!’ Charlie bellowed. ‘Nobody treats a daughter of mine like that.’

  ‘It’s not for you to say, Dad,’ Linda rounded on him. ‘Dan thinks we’re too young to get married yet.’

  ‘And maybe he’s right,’ Lotty said, ‘but you’ve a bairn on the way so things are different.’

  Linda rocked dangerously on two legs of her chair. ‘We’ve decided to live together for a bit. You don’t have to get wed any more because there’s a baby.’

  ‘Oh, aye?’ Charlie thundered. ‘And you think this Dan Hardman is going to stand by you once the bairn is born if he won’t marry you now? You’re living in cloud cuckoo land, Linda.’

  Val tutted. ‘I don’t know what you see in such a lad. He obviously has no respect for you. Can’t you see the way you’re upsetting your mam and dad?’

  Linda lashed out. ‘You’re just jealous of what I’ve got because you’ve ended up a sad old spinster!’

  Val threw up her hands with impatience.

  Lotty wagged a finger. ‘Don’t you speak to your Auntie Val like that. She’s done far better for herself than you ever will. You’re a silly, selfish lass! Fancy running off and getting yourself pregnant. It’s not just your life you’ve got to consider; what about the poor bairn? What sort of home is it going to be born into with a dad who doesn’t even want to give it his name?’

  ‘And where is he?’ Charlie demanded. ‘He hasn’t even got the decency to face us!’

  Linda threw Carol a desperate look and Carol wondered if she had done the right thing by bringing Linda to face her censorious family. She was thankful that Mick had taken Laura over to Grandda Bowman’s to avoid the row, but it was almost dark and she wished Mick would hurry back. What could be keeping him?

  It was that bleak time in January when the Christmas decorations had been put away and the days were short and dark and lifeless. And here were her in-laws bickering among themselves over the hapless Linda and her unborn baby. Whatever she said she would be condemned, Carol thought, because they resented her, the outsider, for knowing about the baby since before Christmas. But they were all turning to stare at her now.

  ‘What’s happened has happened and we just have to make the best of it,’ Carol said stoutly. ‘None of us can make Dan and Linda marry if they don’t want to. Perhaps when the baby comes along he’ll realise that it’s best if they do, but until then we just have to support Linda. We can’t do any more and all the arguing in the world isn’t going to change a thing.’

  Linda smiled in gratitude. ‘See, Carol understands.’

  This seemed to incense her parents and they started to shout at the same time.

  ‘That’s typical!’

  ‘Take the easy way out, is that it, Carol?’

  ‘The lad has responsibilities!’

  ‘You’ve always encouraged Linda to go her own way - now look what’s happened.’

  Linda suddenly leapt up. ‘Shut up, both of you!’

  An astonished silence fell on the room as they gawped at her livid face.

  ‘You’ve no right to attack Carol like that. She’s the only one who’s really bothered about what I want. The rest of you are just worried what the village gossips will say. Well, I’m going to keep me baby and care for it just as well as any of you would, and I’m going back to live with Dan ‘cos I love him and that’s where I want to be.’

  The room seemed to echo with her words and they all sat in stunned silence, as if they had run out of steam.

  With a surge of relief, Carol heard Mick and Laura clump in at the front door, their chatter lively. The door swung open and Laura raced in and rushed straight to Lotty. Her grandmother put out eager arms and at once her strained face was beaming.

  ‘Nana, nana! I’ve got a surprise for you.’ Laura announced breathlessly, still wearing her coat and woolly hat and scarf. Her cheeks were pink with cold and excitement.

  ‘What’s that then, pet?’ Lotty laughed. ‘Have you brought me something from Grandda’s?’

  Mick came in grinning. ‘You could say that. We found him at Grandda’s, any road.’

  Everyone craned to see. Laura sprang across the room again and dragged the mystery guest through the door.

  ‘Eddy!’ The screech went round the room.

  Carol was overjoyed to see Mick’s uncle standing there, an impish smile on his craggy face, with Laura scooped up into his arms.

  ‘You’re back!’

  ‘Are you back for good?’

  ‘You should’ve said. We could’ve come to meet you!’

  They all crowded round him, showering him with hugs and kisses and handshakes.

  ‘Laura’s already told me off for missing Christmas,’ Eddy laughed. ‘But I’m back now and I’m staying put. I’ve had enough of working in that Midlands pit.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad to hear it, pet,’ Lotty smiled. ‘But let’s get you home and the tea on.’

  ‘Why don’t you all have your tea here?’ Carol offered at once, and before Lotty could refuse, Mick insisted too.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ Charlie sat down with his brother. ‘There’s an overtime ban at the pit and things are looking dodgy.’

  ‘Don’t let him put you off with his doom and gloom,’ Lotty scoffed. ‘You’ll find summat here.’

  ‘Aye, I already have,’ Eddy said with a pleased look. ‘Start Monday in the workshops.’

  ‘Well, that’s champion,’ Mick said, giving him a pat on the back. ‘Think we might go down The Ship later and celebrate with the Captain, eh?’

  ‘Took the words out me mouth, bonny lad,’ Eddy chuckled. He smiled over at Carol. ‘That’s if you don’t mind, flower?’

  Carol laughed. ‘Learnt some manners towards the lasses while you’ve been away, Uncle Eddy? Have we the southerners to thank for that?’

  ‘Thank them for nothing,’ Charlie grunted. ‘They sent the bugger back to us.’

  Eddy laughed the loudest. ‘By, I’ve missed these family get-togethers. It’s what’s brought me home, if I’m honest. All us Todds together again.’

  ‘Oh, aye?’ Val chortled. ‘And now Lesley’s married off, it’s safe to come home?’

  Eddy winked at her and grinned. ‘So, tell m
e, is it something special? Have I forgotten someone’s birthday?’

  An awkward silence descended as looks were exchanged round the room.

  ‘Well, Eddy,’ Lotty cleared her throat. ‘Our Linda’s got something to tell you.’

  Uncle Eddy’s surprise arrival put an end to the family squabble over Linda and she returned to Whittledene knowing she could rely on her family if she needed them. As February came and work grew busy at the hire shop, Carol felt happier that things were going to turn out all right for them all - for Linda and the baby, for Eddy who did not seem the least upset at Lesley marrying Paul Dimarco in his absence, and for her and Mick. Laura was happy at school, Mick was content with his rugby and a quiet pint with his uncle or Sid, and they hoped one day for another baby. They had never planned for Laura to be an only child, but it looked increasingly as if she would be. But when she thought of Kelly, who had never managed to become pregnant, Carol knew she was lucky to have her precious daughter.

  Perhaps it was because she had been so preoccupied with Linda’s troubles and Kelly’s dissatisfaction with Sid, or too busy at work, or so content with having the amusing Eddy back in the village that Carol had not seen trouble coming. But then no one seemed to have foreseen the tidal wave of trouble rolling towards them with such momentous strength, until it broke and came crashing over their heads in early March.

  It was a cold Thursday evening when Carol made her way from the shop to Septimus Street to pick up Laura.

  She had been working late for Val, doing a final fitting for Stan Savage’s daughter, Angela, who was getting married at the end of the month, and Lotty had picked Laura up from school. Entering the warm kitchen, all seemed normal. Laura looked up from her tea of ham steak and vegetables and grinned in welcome.

  ‘Hello, pet,’ Carol said, kissing her daughter. ‘What have you done today?’

  ‘Can’t remember,’ Laura smiled. ‘Can we go swimming on Saturday?’

  ‘She started a new reading book,’ Lotty prompted, peering over her sewing glasses. ‘And she’s doing a project on grandparents, aren’t you, Laura?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Laura said absently. ‘Please, Mam, can we go swimming?’

  ‘Perhaps after Daddy gets back from work,’ Carol half promised.

  ‘Yeah!’ Laura clapped her hands with glee.

  Suddenly Grandda Bowman appeared at the partitioned doorway that led into the sitting room, wheezing hard. Carol had been vaguely aware of the TV grumbling away in the far room and the old man shouting for it to be turned up. Carol saw the look of concern on his weathered face.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘They’re closing Cortonwood in Yorkshire - it’s just been announced on the telly.’

  ‘Isn’t that where your cousin Geoff works?’ Carol asked, turning to Lotty.

  Lotty nodded.

  ‘But Cortonwood’s one of the super pits,’ Carol said in astonishment. ‘I remember Geoff saying in his Christmas card they’ve just had new pit baths put in and—’

  Charlie came storming into the kitchen. ‘There must be some mistake!’ he cried. There’s been nowt said about this as far as we’ve heard. They can’t just say a pit’s going to close in a month’s time without it going through the proper procedures. There’s a rabbit off here.’ He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. ‘I’m off to the Welfare to do some ringing around.’

  He left immediately, leaving the women troubled. Carol had a gnawing anxiety in the pit of her stomach, but didn’t know why.

  ‘What’s wrong with Grandda Charlie?’ Laura asked, puzzled.

  Lotty went and put her arms round the girl’s narrow shoulders and Carol instinctively felt it was to comfort herself rather than the child. ‘Oh, just union business, pet.’

  Carol exchanged glances with her mother-in-law. ‘You’re not just worried for Geoff, are you?’ she murmured. ‘There’s more to this, isn’t there?’

  Lotty shrugged.

  ‘Charlie thinks so,’ Grandda Bowman fretted, gripping the back of a chair. ‘Cortonwood’s not a pit that’s worked out, it’s got plenty stocks of coal.’

  ‘So why are they closing it without any warning?’ Carol asked, baffled. ‘They must know the Union won’t stand for that.’

  ‘Aye,’ Grandda Bowman agreed, sucking in his cheeks, ‘and maybe that’s why they’re doing it - forcing a confrontation. Who knows?’

  Carol shivered. ‘Well, it’s just the one pit - it’s a matter for Yorkshire, isn’t it?’

  Lotty gave her a strange look and shook her head. ‘No, Carol, you should know by now that when it comes to the crunch, we all stick together. The union won’t stand by and see pits picked off one by one.’

  Carol felt her throat go dry. Up until now, her greatest anxiety for Mick had been that of any miner’s wife - fear of the danger below ground. She had become used to glancing at the clock and listening out for the buzzer at the end of his shift and the lightening of her spirits to hear him tramping through the front door and calling out her name. But now she was beset by a new fear of uncertainty. She didn’t know what this announcement really meant, none of them did, and it was the not knowing that sent her hurrying home, clutching Laura’s hand tightly in hers and praying that it was all a fuss about nothing.

  She hardly had time to talk to Mick about it as he hurried off for the late shift and by the time he had surfaced the next day and she had returned from work, there was a further announcement of the closure of Bullcliffe Wood, near Barnsley. Rumours were rife around the school gate when she collected Laura that Friday and Mick and the other men spent much of the weekend hanging around the Welfare and the clubs, trying to find out more.

  By Monday it became clear that the Yorkshire NUM were calling a strike for the Yorkshire area, to begin on the last shift on Friday. The following day, MacGregor announced that twenty more pits would close.

  ‘That’s a loss of twenty thousand jobs!’ Mick fumed when Carol got in from the shop. ‘And he’s refusing to say that there won’t be compulsory redundancies.’

  ‘But does it affect Brassbank?’ Carol asked anxiously.

  Mick looked at her sharply. ‘It affects all the NUM whether it’s our pit or not.’

  Carol still did not understand. ‘But Durham hasn’t voted to strike or anything.’

  ‘Listen, Carol,’ Mick said urgently, making her sit down, ‘this is very serious. It matters nowt whether we’ve taken a vote or not, they’re already striking in Yorkshire. It’s just a matter of time before we’re all picketed out - that’s the best way to start a strike.

  There’s one thing you can be sure of, no union lads are going to cross a picket line ‘cos loyalty to the union gans first. That’s how we won in seventy-two and seventy-four.’

  The following day, Carol could see that Mick was right. Two Scottish pits went on strike and by the Thursday all of Scotland, Wales, Yorkshire and Kent were granted official area disputes by the national executive in Sheffield. By Friday the pickets arrived in Brassbank and Mick went up to the pit as a formality, knowing that he would be turned away from work.

  ‘Guess who I met at the picket?’ he grunted. ‘Me cousin Geoff. Mam’s putting him up, along with a couple of the other lads.’

  ‘What’s their news?’ Carol asked as she folded up the ironing. She was tired after a week’s work and the anxiety over the pit, yet it all seemed so unreal. She could not imagine what it was all going to mean to them. There had been threats of strikes three years ago, but the Government had backed away and everything had settled down as before, so perhaps it meant very little. Business in the streets of Brassbank seemed as brisk as ever and she had a feeling of being cocooned from outside events as if it was all going on far away. But now the possibility of a strike was lapping at their door and she had a sudden chill feeling of fear.

  ‘They reckon half the coalfield’s out already,’ Mick replied, settling to watch the evening news.

  ‘So it might all be over quite soon,
then?’ Carol asked with a surge of optimism.

  Mick’s face was sombre. ‘Nottingham’s the sticking point though; they’re going to take some convincing.’

  ‘Why should they be any different?’ Carol could see the worry on her husband’s face.

  ‘They’re happy making good bonuses in big, modern pits,’ Mick snorted. ‘There’s a lot of lads come into the Notts pits for the money, who’ve never been pitmen before - not from mining families. They don’t have the same loyalty to the union as we do in the old mining areas. We’ve seen how the union has fought for us over the years. We’d still be working in dodgy private pits with piss poor wages and nee holidays if it hadn’t been for the union.’

  Carol came and put her arms round his neck as he sat tensely on the settee. ‘You don’t have to convince me about it, Mick love.’ She kissed his cheek.

  Mick smiled up at her, but his blue eyes were searching. ‘Carol, if it comes to all-out strike, it won’t be easy for us. Will you be able to . . .?’

  ‘Support you?’ Carol asked. She gave him a look of annoyance. ‘Do you still think that because I’m the boss’s daughter I’ll not be able to stick it if things get tough? Well, you should know me better than that, Mick man. I’ll always back you, however hard it gets.’ She bent again and whispered in his ear. ‘Loving and doing go together - and I love you very much.’

  For an instant she saw his eyes glisten with emotion and then he was pulling her over the back of the settee on to his lap.

  ‘Give us a kiss!’ he grinned.

  Carol laughed and kissed him tenderly and then he pulled her up and suggested an early night.

  ‘What you doing back here?’ Kelly demanded when Sid returned twenty minutes after leaving for his shift.

  ‘Pickets turned us back,’ he explained and threw down his bag. He had hardly kicked off his boots when she rounded on him.

  ‘What do you mean by that? They can’t stop you, you’re not on strike. You should’ve gone in. We can’t manage on just my wages, so don’t think you’ll be stopping work.’

  Sid gave her a baffled look and noticed for the first time that she appeared to be dressed up to go out. Her short red hair was gelled and there was a smell of fresh nail varnish in the room.

 

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