‘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 come 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.
He laughed. ‘Well, we can’t - we both have work awaiting us - and we should be thankful we have in this day and age.’
‘Aye, I know that, but it doesn’t do any harm to have dreams. What do you wish for, Gerald?’
He stopped, his face wistful in the glow of the setting sun. ‘To lead a good life, I suppose, and be happy. To find the right companion and make her happy too.’
Catherine’s heart missed a beat. Did he mean her? Tentatively, she put a hand up to his face and felt the roughness of his chin. He kissed the palm of her hand.
‘Gerald . . .’ she whispered.
In a swift movement, his arms came about her and he pulled her close. He leant down and put his mouth over hers. His lips were surprisingly soft and moist as they pressed on hers. It was their first real kiss, the one she had longed for all summer, but now it was happening, she was seized with panic. While his mouth sucked, his strong tongue was probing, trying to force her lips apart. Catherine clamped them tight. She had a vague idea that to allow him into her mouth would lead to pregnancy. Why was she so ignorant about these things? Why had she not asked Lily for more details about how far it was safe to allow a man to go? Lily had kissed Tommy and she would know.
Instead of feeling exultant that Gerald was finally kissing her as a man kisses a grown woman, she was gripped with panic and anxiety that she was doing something wrong. She stood as rigid as a statue, eyes squeezed tight shut, until he stopped.
When Gerald pulled away, she could feel the coldness of the evening breeze on her wet lips.
‘Kitty, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
‘I’m sorry, I thought... I was overcome by the perfect evening. I shouldn’t have.’ He sounded offended.
Catherine said quickly, ‘Oh, but I wanted you to.’
‘No, it was wrong of me. You are so young.’ Gerald turned away. ‘We should be getting back.’
Catherine’s eyes flooded with tears. She had spoilt everything with her stupid fears. She swallowed hard. ‘I love you. Please don’t go.’ She grabbed at his arm. ‘I have to tell you something. I turned down the chance to go to London - couldn’t stand the thought of ganin’ so far away from you.’
He stopped and stared at her. ‘What chance?’
‘Matron wanted me to gan to London to train as a midwife. I said no.’ Catherine searched his face for approval.
‘You didn’t say it was because of me?’ he said, startled.
She shook her head, feeling dashed. ‘I said it was too far from home. Anyways, I couldn’t afford it - haven’t got enough saved up.’
‘But isn’t that what you wanted to do, nursing?’
Catherine looked him in the eye. ‘I don’t want to be in London - I want to be with you.’
They stared at each other. Gerald reached out and touched her hair.
‘You turned all that down just for me?’
She nodded. He let out a long sigh and pulled her gently into his arms.
‘Oh, dear Kitty. I don’t deserve it.’
‘You do to me, and I don’t regret it,’ she assured him, pressing her cheek to his chest and returning his hug.
They stood in the dying light, holding on to each other wordlessly. Catherine wished she could stay like that for ever, listening to the quiet beat of his heart and feeling the warmth of his breath on her hair. But as the night breeze strengthened, he broke away.
‘Come on, we should go back before they lock the doors.’
Catherine tried to delay the moment. She felt there was so much unresolved between them, about what happened once they left the haven of Gilsland.
‘When we get back home,’ she said, ‘will we be courtin’ proper? I mean, we’ve got on like a house on fire this week, haven’t we? And you said we had to find out if we were suited. Well, we are, aren’t we?’
She could not see his expression in the half-dark, but his voice was full of warmth.
‘It’s been a grand week, Kitty, one of the best I’ve ever had. And if it means so much to you, we can say that we’re courting.’
Catherine felt a surge of relief.
‘That’s champion!’ she cried. She heard him laugh softly. ‘Gerald,’ she said impulsively, ‘kiss me again, please.’
He hesitated a fraction, then stepped close and kissed her gently on the lips. It was a chaste kiss, empty of passion, but tender. Catherine’s heart swelled at the thought that she could finally parade Gerald as her intended. No more skirting a
round town avoiding busy places. She would have him home for tea - or at least to Aunt Mary’s. They would go to the Harvest Festival dance together.
As she pressed her lips against his, a delicious thrill went through her at the thought of showing him off to Kate. She had found a gentleman who would give her the respectability she craved. Kate would be pleased and proud, and fuss around Gerald. She would have her mother’s approval - and a little touch of envy.
Chapter 16
On the evening she arrived back in Jarrow, Catherine could not resist rushing round to William Black Street to tell her news. The hot weather was ending abruptly in a thunderstorm and Catherine arrived soaked. Davie was back at sea, so a subdued Kate brightened at once on seeing her. Her jaw dropped when she heard Gerald Rolland had been on the holiday too.
‘Did you know he would be there?’ she asked in amazement, helping her daughter out of her dripping coat.
‘Well, I had an idea,’ Catherine admitted.
‘You’re blushin’,’ Kate declared. ‘Look at that! He must’ve found out you were ganin’. I hope you gave him an earful for missin’ your party.’
‘That’s all in the past,’ she said hastily. ‘We have an understanding now.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Me and Gerald Rolland are courtin’,’ Catherine said with glee.
‘By the saints!’ Kate gasped. ‘Are you havin’ me on?’
‘No!’
John woke up by the spitting fire. ‘What you wake me up for?’ he grumbled. ‘Kitty, is that you? Have you brought me any baccy?’
‘Aye, Grandda, and a pot of honey from Gilsland.’
‘Our Kitty’s courtin’,’ Kate said in a fluster. ‘You’ll bring him round for tea on your next day off, won’t you?’
‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ John snorted.
‘It’s true,’ Catherine insisted.
‘Don’t listen to him,’ Kate sniffed. ‘We’d all die old maids if he had his way.’
THE JARROW TRILOGY: all 3 enthralling sagas in 1 volume; The Jarrow Lass, A Child of Jarrow & Return to Jarrow Page 96
