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by Janet MacLeod Trotter


  She stared at him in disbelief, shaking and crying. How could he not know how much she loved him?

  ‘Please forgive me, Kitty,’ he begged, squeezing her hands in his.

  She wanted to, but the humiliation of her terrible birthday was still too raw.

  ‘ Y-you d-didn’t even send me a card,’ she said miserably. ‘Nothing to show you cared even a little.’

  ‘But I do,’ he insisted, producing a handkerchief and dabbing at her tears. ‘I have a present for you, but it’s not one I could send in the post.’

  ‘What is it?’ Catherine sniffed.

  ‘Dear, sweet girl, please don’t cry any more. Come, let’s walk up Simonside - you’ll feel better for the fresh air - and I can explain.’

  Her curiosity raised, Catherine allowed him to link her arm through his and march her briskly away from the town. Along the railway embankment, the smell of newly cut grass mingled with cinders from the track. The evening call of birds grew as the clank and din of the yards receded. Above the embankment, hidden by briars and hawthorns, Gerald sat her down on a rough bench made from an old railway sleeper. It was their favourite sitting place, sheltered and secluded, and Catherine was suddenly desperate that he would put everything right again.

  He took her hand and began to stroke it. ‘I have a confession,’ he said in his deep voice. ‘My mother was ill, but I knew I should have made every attempt to come to your party. I hate myself for letting you down.’

  ‘I don’t blame you for your mam being ill,’ Catherine said generously.

  ‘It wasn’t just that,’ Gerald said, gazing at her intently. ‘I was afraid to come.’

  ‘Afraid? What do you mean?’

  ‘Your family. . .’

  ‘I knew it,’ Catherine trembled, withdrawing her hand. ‘You’re ashamed of us ‘cos we’re from the New Buildings and me grandda has no trade, and me stepda’s a common seaman. And you’ve been listening to gossip about me mother, no doubt.’

  ‘No,’ Gerald said, surprised by her outburst. ‘I don’t know much about your folk. But I’d heard the McMullens were a large family, a close family that looks after its own - doesn’t take to strangers easily. Quite frankly, I was worried your folks might get the wrong impression about us.’

  ‘What impression?’ Catherine asked in confusion.

  ‘That we might be courting.’

  She felt suddenly leaden. ‘But I thought we were.’

  He gently tilted her chin so she had to look into his dark brown eyes.

  ‘We don’t know each other very well,’ Gerald murmured. ‘We need to have time together - alone together - to find out if we are suited.’

  Catherine’s heart began to hammer. ‘What do you mean?’

  He smiled. ‘That’s my present to you, Kitty. We’ll go away on a holiday together, just you and me. No Mother, no McMullens, no nosy neighbours. I’ll pay for everything, of course.’

  Catherine could feel an excited flush spreading up from her neck into her fair face.

  ‘Go away where?’ she whispered.

  ‘The Co-operative Hotel at Gilsland. It’s in Cumbria - beautiful countryside. We can go on long walks and the food’s very good. I’ve been before.’

  Catherine eyed him cautiously. ‘Who with?’

  ‘On my own,’ he said. ‘The hotel caters for single working people.’

  Catherine smiled in relief. ‘So we don’t have to pretend that we’re—’ She broke off, flushing deeper with embarrassment.

  Gerald laughed. ‘Kitty McMullen, did you for a moment think I’d be proposing something improper?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Well, I’m not. I’d never do anything to take advantage of your sweet, trusting nature. It’s what’s so appealing about you, Kitty. Your youthful innocence.’

  He made her sound childish. ‘I’m a grown woman now,’ Catherine reminded him.

  He leant forward and kissed her forehead. ‘Of course you are. You’re entitled to go to Gilsland of your own accord, as a working girl on a good wage. That’s what you must do. We’ll both go separately, so as not to cause tongues to wag, but once we’re there we’ll have as much time together as we want.’

  Catherine felt a slight niggle. ‘Why should they wag when it’s all above board?’

  ‘You know what folk are like. We don’t want any tittle-tattle to the priest or your employers, do we? You can book in a couple of days before me and then I’ll join you. What do you say?’

  Catherine yearned to go, yet the idea made her nervous. ‘When will we go?’

  ‘August would be best for me. Mother goes to stay with her half-cousin at the coast and I usually take my holiday week then.’ He leant close. ‘Say yes, Kitty.’

  She had a strong urge to throw her arms about his neck and kiss him on his sensual lips. She would put up with the charade of not courting publicly so as to be with him at Gilsland. And perhaps after the holiday, he would officially be her intended. She felt a sudden surge of hope.

  ‘Aye, I’d like to go,’ she smiled.

  Unexpectedly, Gerald leant over and brushed her lips with a brief kiss that left her full of longing.

  ***

  The summer dragged on as Catherine waited impatiently for Gilsland. She had never been away from Jarrow for a whole week on holiday, let alone with a man. The thought made her insides churn with fear and excitement. She told no one but Lily that Gerald would be at the hotel too. Kate was surprised but pleased at her holiday plans.

  ‘I think it’s grand, you letting your hair down for once. But don’t you want to gan with Lily or Amelia?’

  ‘They can’t afford it,’ Catherine said with a shrug. ‘Anyway, I’ll meet other lasses there.’

  Kate eyed her. ‘And lads. Find someone more your own age, eh? Not like that Mr Rolland.’

  Catherine quickly turned away to hide her blushing. She had never told her mother about making up with Gerald.

  ‘Aye, find a lad that trets you right,’ Kate continued as she pounded bread dough. ‘Plenty more fish in the sea.’

  Catherine managed to meet Gerald briefly on Saturday evenings for walks if the weather was fine, or to go to the cinema if it rained. She could hardly contain her excitement about the approaching trip but he would merely smile and pat her hand as if indulging a child.

  Two weeks before they were due to go, Matron summoned Catherine into her office. Catherine was terrified word had somehow got out that she was holidaying with a man. Had Lily let slip her secret? She sat opposite Matron Hatch, clutching her hands to stop them shaking.

  ‘Miss McMullen, I’ll come straight to the point. Do you still have ambitions to become a nurse?’

  Catherine gawped at her. ‘A nurse? I-I don’t know. I suppose so. Well, yes.’ Her heart was hammering with relief that this was nothing to do with Gerald.

  Matron nodded and picked up a piece of paper. ‘There is one way into nursing for girls like you who don’t have the qualifications or background,’ she said bluntly. ‘You can train to be a midwife.’

  ‘A midwife?’ Catherine said in astonishment.

  ‘I have details here about such a course. If you are interested I could put a word in for you. You’re a quick learner and a hard worker. I don’t see why in time you couldn’t go on to becoming a fully trained nurse.’

  Catherine sat speechless. Here was the opportunity she had dreamt of, to become a skilled nurse, a woman with a profession. She saw herself in a smart matron’s uniform with a starched headdress. Gerald would admire her, maybe enough to marry her.

  ‘Of course, it’s not just a matter of training,’ Matron continued. ‘You will need to support yourself away from home. Some funding will need to be found.’

  ‘Away from home?’ Catherine queried.

  ‘Yes, the
training is in London. It would be an excellent grounding for you - and I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I didn’t think you were up to it.’

  ‘London!’ Catherine exclaimed. ‘Oh, I couldn’t gan there. It’s too far away. . .’ She could not go that far from Gerald, not now that there was an understanding between them.

  Matron gave a sharp look. ‘If you’re serious about getting on, Miss McMullen, you’ll have to be prepared to move away.’

  Catherine felt a rush of disappointment. A few weeks ago, after her birthday, she might have snatched at the chance to leave Tyneside. But now she was deeper in love than ever. Gerald was her future more than midwifery. The midwives she knew were common, illiterate women, helping out their neighbours for a few pennies. Besides, the idea of childbirth appalled her. It was the messy, mysterious side of nursing about which she had no wish to be enlightened. Kate had once said that giving birth was worse than torture and Catherine feared it. When she daydreamed of sweeping about in a matron’s uniform, it had nothing to do with the blood and sweat of a midwife’s lot.

  ‘If it’s the money you’re worried about, I’m sure we could ask Father O’Neill for help with a loan for the train fare and books.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Matron, but I don’t want to be a midwife,’ Catherine replied.

  Matron frowned. ‘Go away and think about it. If you change your mind, come back and tell me before the end of the month. The training starts in September.’

  Catherine nodded and rose quickly. As she opened the door, Matron added, ‘Lots of girls would jump at such a chance. This isn’t backstreet midwifery; it’s a proper training. So don’t go thinking you’re too grand for it, Miss McMullen.’

  Catherine hurried from the office, feeling rebuked. She had disappointed her employer, but she could not tell her the real reason for her reluctance. Perhaps, when Gerald proposed to her, Matron Hatch would understand.

  Yet part of her agonised that she was making a mistake. She could just imagine Kate saying, ‘Tak the bull by the horns, Kitty, and get yoursel’ doon to London. You can come back to Jarrow, hinny, once you’ve got your trainin’.’

  She confided in Lily. ‘Do you think I’ve done the right thing?’

  Lily shrugged. ‘It’s a grand opportunity, Kitty. I’d gan if I was given half a chance.’

  ‘Would you?’ Catherine asked in surprise. Lily had always seemed such a home-bird.

  ‘Aye,’ Lily nodded, carried away by her own brave words. ‘Just think of being in London. Seeing the King and Queen and all them big shops.’

  ‘Would you come with us?’ Catherine asked, curious.

  ‘Course I would,’ Lily declared.

  They stared at each other and burst out laughing at their daring.

  Then Lily said, ‘They’d not have me on the trainin’ and old Hatchet wouldn’t put a word in for a laundry maid like me.’

  Catherine sighed. ‘Maybes not. But wouldn’t it be a laugh to gan away together?’

  Lily studied her. ‘Have you told Gerald about this?’

  Catherine looked away. ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Catherine could not answer. Deep down she feared he might encourage her to go.

  Chapter 15

  From the train window, Catherine could see the moors covered in purple heather, and when she stepped out on to the quiet platform a blast of scented air nearly knocked her over. A charabanc from the hotel was there to meet the new arrivals and she found herself sitting next to a talkative girl from Edinburgh. By the time they reached Gilsland, nestling in a dip below the blustery fell, she knew that her companion was called Helen, had three brothers, worked in a telephone exchange, played tennis and was in love with Douglas Fairbanks.

  Catherine’s fear of being on her own for two days before Gerald arrived evaporated in minutes. By tea time, she and Helen had become firm friends and by bedtime had made arrangements to play tennis with two bank clerks from Preston.

  ‘But I’ve never played before,’ Catherine exclaimed.

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Terence, a tall, loping man with ears that stuck out, ‘neither has Billy.’

  ‘Yes I have,’ Billy protested.

  ‘Not that you’d notice,’ Terence grinned.

  That night, Catherine knelt by her bed and gave thanks for the spotlessly clean hotel, the heady view of vast open sky above mossy lawns and her new cheerful companions. Unable to sleep, thinking of Gerald’s arrival, she threw wide her window and leant out.

  In the dusk she could hear the distant bleat of a sheep and then silence. The air smelt of honey and grass. She breathed in huge gulps, marvelling at its purity. There was not a trace of coaldust or pitch or the raw effluent of the tide. Something else puzzled her about the night sky, deepening by the minute. At home, it was a yellowy haze of smoke and lamplight like a blanket thrown over the town. Here the sky seemed to go on for ever, glinting with thousands of stars. She had no idea so many existed. She could hardly wait to share such a romantic sky with Gerald.

  Catherine stayed by the window until she was chilled through, thinking fantastical thoughts. Was her father leaning on another windowsill in some other country house, gazing out at the starry sky at that very moment? Had Kate ever leant out of Ravensworth Castle and longed for her lover as she now did? Catherine shivered and pushed away such disturbing thoughts. She climbed into bed, leaving the window open, and was asleep in minutes.

  The two days of waiting passed swiftly in the company of Helen and the bank clerks. They played tennis in the morning, took a packed lunch and went for a walk in the afternoon. After tea, Terence organised a mixed game of cricket on the lawn and in the evening they gathered round the piano and sang while a store manager from Newcastle rattled through his repertoire of music-hall tunes.

  ‘Go on, Kitty,’ Helen pushed her forward, ‘give us some Geordie songs.’

  Catherine needed little encouragement. All those times she had stood on the fender performing for her Grandda John and Grandma Rose came flooding back, and she sang the traditional songs with relish.

  Her friends clapped and Terence swung an arm round her and declared, ‘I’d pay to sit in the grand circle to hear you any day, Kitty McMullen.’

  Gerald’s arrival in the middle of a tennis game the next morning took Catherine by surprise. She had imagined he would come on the afternoon train as she had, but he had taken an early bus.

  She was laughing from having delivered a fluke service that Billy had not seen coming.

  ‘Well done!’ Terence cried, patting her shoulder.

  ‘Someone’s staring at you,’ Helen remarked, pointing beyond the fence. ‘Has your dad come to check up on you?’ she laughed.

  Catherine swung round in alarm and squinted into the sun. ‘Gerald!’ she gasped and waved him over.

  He nodded at her, then turned and walked away, hands clutched behind his back. She turned back in embarrassment. ‘He’s a friend.’

  Helen raised her eyebrows. ‘I think he’s a wee bit jealous,’ she teased.

  ‘Don’t be daft.’

  ‘Do you want to finish the game?’ Terence asked, unsure.

  ‘Course I do. Gerald won’t mind.’

  But it seemed Gerald did. Catherine rushed to find him after their match and found him sulking in the lounge behind a newspaper.

  ‘Don’t let me drag you away from the fun,’ he said. ‘I see you’ve wasted no time making new friends.’

  ‘Well, what was I supposed to do?’ Catherine retorted. ‘Sit in my room and mope? Come on, I’ll introduce you. Helen’s from Scotland -she’s really canny - and the Preston lads are a laugh.’

  ‘I came here to be with you, not a bunch of boys from the cotton mills.’

  Catherine flushed. ‘They’re bank clerks - and it was you suggested we com
e here.’

  A middle-aged couple walked into the room and glanced at them. Catherine prised the newspaper from Gerald’s hands and pleaded, ‘Let’s go outside. I’ve been counting the minutes. Don’t let’s fall out over a daft game of tennis.’

  Mollified, Gerald led the way into the garden. They found a quiet spot beyond the kitchen garden and she slipped an arm through his.

  ‘I’m glad you suggested we come here - it’s a grand place. I couldn’t wait for you to get here - all the tennis and that was just to fill in time. Those lads don’t mean anything to me.’

  ‘That tall one has his eye on you,’ Gerald said suspiciously.

  Terence?’ Catherine laughed. ‘Well, he’s wasting his time. It’s you I want to be with, Gerald, no one else.’

  For the first time he smiled at her, his handsome face lightening. ‘Come on, we’ll take a walk up the hill. There’s a stretch of the old Roman Road further on, don’t you know?’

  Catherine did, but she kept quiet about having walked there with the others the day before.

  ‘Show me,’ she smiled back.

  The rest of the week passed too quickly and they spent every waking hour in each other’s company. Gerald had never been so possessive over her, steering her away from the others and declining invitations to tennis or cricket or board games in the evening. The weather held and they went out for evening walks along the river. Catherine had only momentary twinges of disappointment that she could not join in the occasional game with Helen and the younger ones. But walking alone in the twilight with Gerald was better than anything else. He was so much more affectionate and relaxed when they were on their own that she had a glimpse of what life could be like for them together.

  On the last evening, she tried to steer the conversation towards the future.

  ‘I love it here - the moors and the smell of the place. I don’t want to gan back.’

  ‘It is beautiful,’ Gerald agreed. ‘Didn’t I tell you you’d love it?’

  ‘Wish we could stay here together for ever,’ she said, squeezing his hand.

 

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