THE JARROW TRILOGY: all 3 enthralling sagas in 1 volume; The Jarrow Lass, A Child of Jarrow & Return to Jarrow

by Janet MacLeod Trotter

  Then she thought of Tom and felt a familiar ache. How she wanted him! She hungered for physical companionship, for his world of knowledge and respectability. Catherine felt a shiver at the thought of being intimate with Tom. It excited yet unnerved her in a way she did not understand. Having him under the same roof would make it increasingly difficult to resist. But to make the same mistake as Kate had frightened her even more. She smothered her lustful thoughts.

  Just before Tom returned, Catherine faced up to Bridie.

  ‘I want you to be nicer to Tom Cookson. It’s upsetting the way you pick on him in front of the others.’

  Bridie snorted. ‘Not upsetting enough obviously - the wretched little man is still here.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that,’ Catherine reproved. ‘He’s done nothing to you and I’ll not put up with the way you treat him. This is his home in Hastings.’

  Bridie shot her a keen-eyed look. ‘I knew it. He’s after you again, isn’t he?’

  The aggression in Bridie’s voice made Catherine suddenly wary. ‘He’s a friend - but I’ll not be questioned about it as if I’ve done something wrong, do you hear?’

  Bridie said nothing more as she slammed out of the room.

  Although delighted to see Tom return, Catherine had to caution him when they snatched a moment alone.

  ‘We can’t let her know we’re courting again - not yet. She’ll just make things difficult for the both of us. But we can meet up away from here - especially when the days get longer. We can go for walks.’

  Tom looked at her in disappointment. ‘You said you were going to tell her.’

  ‘I was ill over the holidays and she was so kind to me - I couldn’t be too hard on her.’

  ‘Ill?’ Tom asked in concern. ‘How ill?’

  Catherine was evasive. ‘Just overtired. I get heavy nosebleeds when I’m run down.’

  Tom touched her face. ‘My poor Kitty. I wish I’d been here to take care of you.’

  Catherine seized his hand, kissing it quickly. ‘Me too. I’ve really missed you.’

  Tom abided by Catherine’s ruling that they would show nothing of their feelings in front of the household, but it grew increasingly difficult for both of them. They had stolen moments on Saturday afternoons when they walked the quiet country lanes. Tom would take a book and read to her, while Catherine sat with her head on his shoulder and drank in his words. They would kiss and joke about having to sneak about at their age. Somehow it heightened the excitement of their romance, yet Catherine was fearful of Bridie finding out, knowing how cruel she would be to Tom. More and more, Catherine contemplated getting rid of Bridie. But she could not afford to set her up in another boarding house like Kate, and it would seem like a betrayal of their former friendship. Above all, Catherine felt responsible for Maisie and could never make her homeless.

  The summer term came and Tom became restless.

  ‘We know how we feel about each other. Isn’t it time we did something about it? We could get engaged - worry about marriage later.’

  ‘Not yet,’ Catherine panicked. ‘It wouldn’t look right with you living under the same roof. You’d have to move out and then we’d hardly see each other. I couldn’t bear that. It works better this way - and it won’t be for ever.’

  Tom gave her a rueful look. ‘How long, Kitty? I love you and want to be with you.’

  ‘Soon,’ Catherine promised.

  Bridie was growing suspicious of the number of times they were out at the same time. One afternoon she got Dorothy to follow them and report back where they went. That night, Bridie confronted Catherine in her bedroom.

  ‘How long have you been sneaking around with the schoolboy?’ she demanded. ‘And don’t deny it. Dorothy saw you.’

  Catherine faced her. ‘I don’t deny it. Tom and I are courting.’

  Bridie went puce. She marched forward and seized Catherine by the arms. ‘You silly little fool! Can’t you see he’s a nasty little gold-digger. He only wants you for what you can give him.’

  Catherine was stung. ‘That’s not true! Tom doesn’t need my money. It’s me who needs him. He has ten times more to offer.’

  ‘Like what?’ Bridie was scathing. ‘A handful of books. I can buy you those.’

  ‘It’s not what he can buy,’ Catherine exclaimed, trying to shake her off. ‘I want him for who he is. He makes me feel like the most special person in the world. I love him.’

  ‘What about me?’ Bridie cried, gripping her harder. ‘Haven’t I been your best friend? Who was the one cheered you up when you were new and lonely in Hastings? We were so happy together. And I was the one had to deal with Kate’s tantrums. I did it all for you, Catherine, I did everything for you!’

  Catherine felt a flicker of fear at the anger in Bridie’s intense blue eyes. She gently pulled away.

  ‘I know you did. I’m still your friend. Loving Tom doesn’t change that.’

  ‘It changes everything!’ Bridie screamed. ‘He’ll take you away from me. You’ll throw me out. I’ll die if you try and get rid of me, I swear it!’

  ‘I’m not going to throw you out,’ Catherine insisted. ‘I couldn’t run this place without you. There’s always a job here for you as long as you want it.’

  Bridie gave her such a look that Catherine thought she would strike her.

  ‘Job?’ She spat out the word. ‘Is that how little you care for me? I’m just your bloody housekeeper!’

  Catherine stepped back. ‘Keep your voice down. Everyone will hear—’

  ‘Let them,’ Bridie shouted. ‘Let them hear how you’ve used me. You want to cast me off like an old shirt now you’ve no further use for me! What’s the schoolboy got that I haven’t got?’ She began to sob uncontrollably.

  ‘You’re being ridiculous,’ Catherine said in agitation. ‘It’s not a matter of one or the other.’

  ‘Yes it is,’ Bridie said, tears coursing down her angry red face. ‘It’s me or him.’

  Catherine stood holding her look. ‘Then it’s Tom,’ she said decisively.

  Bridie shrieked as if she’d been burnt.

  ‘You can’t, you can’t! The priest won’t let you. You’d have to live in sin and you’d never do that, I know you. You could never marry that man!’

  ‘We’ll face that when the time’s right,’ Catherine insisted. ‘Now will you please leave my room?’

  Bridie looked at her wild-eyed. ‘Please don’t make me go. I love you too. I love you more than he ever could!’

  She was so distraught, Catherine was terrified the woman would attack her.

  ‘I’m not going to throw you out. Not if you calm down and leave my room now.’

  Bridie glared at her and Catherine held her breath, trying not to betray her fear. The moment passed and Bridie stormed from the room. Catherine sank on to the bed, shaking violently. Never had she guessed that Bridie was capable of such hysteria, such jealousy over her. She was behaving like a possessed lover.

  Catherine’s stomach turned over. Surely Bridie did not see her in that light? They had been friends, more like mother and daughter. But Bridie had spoken of loving her more than Tom ever could. If Bridie saw herself as a spurned partner, however far-fetched that was, then she really had something to fear. Catherine clamped her hands over her mouth to stop herself crying.

  The next day, she caught up with Tom as he walked down the street towards school and told him of the dreadful scene. Tom’s face broke into a smile of relief.

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s finally out in the open. Now we can get on with our courtship.’

  ‘How can we? I’m frightened of her,’ Catherine exclaimed, ‘frightened of what she might do to us - to herself!’

  Tom unexpectedly grabbed her hand. ‘She’s playing games -manipulating your feelings. Don’t let her do i
t, Kitty. She’ll ruin everything if you let her.’

  The next days were tense. Bridie’s mood was volatile: protective and mothering one moment, threatening and sarcastic the next.

  It was the major who intervened to lighten the atmosphere in the house.

  ‘There’s a dance on at the Calais on Saturday night. Why don’t we go - you, Tom and myself?’

  Catherine agreed at once. But when the evening came, Bridie sent Maisie to fetch her as she was getting ready. Maisie was upset that her mother was ill. Catherine rushed to her room to find Bridie retching into a basin, her hair damp and stuck to her flushed face. Catherine felt her head: it was burning hot. The room was unbearably stuffy, as if the electric fire had been on.

  ‘You’ve a fever - I’ll call the doctor.’

  ‘No,’ Bridie whispered. ‘I don’t want a doctor. I want you to look after me.’

  Catherine caught sight of a hot-water bottle on the bed. It was the middle of summer. Bridie’s fever was manufactured. She did not try to hide her irritation. ‘Maisie will run you a cool bath and get you to bed. Mrs Fairy can keep an eye on you while I’m out.’

  ‘You can’t go and leave me,’ Bridie wailed. ‘Please don’t leave me.’

  ‘I’m going out with Tom and the major. It’s just for the evening. I’m not running away. There’s no need to make this fuss.’

  Bridie grabbed on to her. ‘No, don’t go! If you care anything for me you won’t go.’

  ‘Oh, Bridie,’ Catherine entreated. ‘I don’t love you in that way. You must know that?’

  Bridie screamed, ‘I’ll kill myself! I swear I’ll kill myself if you go with him!’

  Catherine shrank from her, appalled. ‘Don’t be daft. Of course you wouldn’t.’

  ‘I would!’ Bridie lunged for a metal button hook on the dressing table and jabbed it at her wrist.

  ‘Stop it,’ Catherine cried, wrestling it away from her. Bridie screamed incoherently. Maisie backed against the door, whimpering in fright.

  ‘All right,’ Catherine panted. ‘I won’t go out - not tonight. Please calm down. Maisie, it’s all right, pet. Nothing’s going to happen to your mother.’ She looked at Bridie. What had she done to reduce this vivacious woman to the shaking wreck in front of her? She must be partly to blame.

  Catherine put out a hand. ‘Lie down, you’re all done in.’ She went to the door.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Bridie said in panic.

  ‘To tell the major I won’t be going with them,’ Catherine said in a flat voice.

  ‘Thank you,’ Bridie said tearfully.

  She found the men waiting in the hallway, dressed smartly in dinner jackets, the major wearing his Boer War medals. Tom looked so handsome, Catherine’s heart twisted.

  ‘You’re not ready,’ he said in dismay.

  ‘No. I’m not coming. I’m sorry - Bridie’s not well - she has a fever.’

  ‘Fever be damned!’ Major Holloway barked. ‘The woman’s leading you a dance.’

  Catherine looked at them pleadingly and dropped her voice. ‘She’s threatening to kill herself. She’s in such a state, I daren’t leave her.’

  The major shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t let her get the upper hand like this. She’ll rule your life for ever.’

  But it was the look on Tom’s face that turned her cold. He stared at her with a mixture of anger and disappointment. If he had ordered her there and then to go with him, she might have. But he turned away from her without a word, his back stiff with rejection, and walked out of the house.

  Chapter 43

  That night, Catherine dozed in a chair in Bridie’s room. She could not sleep for fear of what Bridie might do and could not rid her mind of the angry look on Tom’s face. Bridie finally slept and Catherine listened out for the return of the men.

  After midnight she heard the key in the door and whispered good nights on the stair. She wanted to rush out and apologise, but when she moved across the creaking boards, Bridie stirred. She could not risk a scene this late at night. So she let the footsteps pass, and sat awake, wondering with whom Tom had danced.

  The next morning, Catherine brought Bridie breakfast in bed and told her to rest. The woman looked haggard and contrite.

  ‘I know the Devil gets into me when I think I’m going to lose you,’ she confessed. ‘I’m sorry, girl. I don’t mean to cause you trouble. Please forgive me.’

  Catherine nodded, her heart heavy. She was only just beginning to see how obsessive was Bridie’s love. It was more stifling than Kate’s need for her.

  Downstairs, Mrs Fairy helped her serve out bacon and eggs. The major told her pointedly what a good dance she had missed. There was no sign of Tom.

  ‘Mr Cookson’s gone to communion,’ Mrs Fairy said. ‘Taken a picnic - said he’d be out all day.’

  Catherine’s unease grew. Summer Sunday afternoons were times they managed a walk together. She needed to talk to him. She spent the day in the garden, weeding vigorously, unable to settle to writing or reading. By the end she was aching and exhausted. Pausing to sit in the warm summerhouse on her way back to the house, she promptly fell asleep.

  She was woken by a gentle shake of the shoulder. Tom’s deep brown eyes were looking straight into hers.

  ‘Tom!’ she cried in startled relief. She reached her arms around his neck but he pulled away. ‘You’re cross with me, I know,’ Catherine said quickly, seeing his stern look, ‘but I had no choice last night. I’ve never seen her in such a state. I really think she would have done some harm.’

  Tom stood watching her, his face taut. ‘Maybe you’re right,’ he said quietly, ‘but I can’t go on like this, Kitty. Nobody’s happy. There’s a bad feeling about the house - you could cut it with a knife.’

  ‘What am I supposed to do?’ Catherine asked desperately.

  His look did not waver. ‘Choose between us. Either Bridie goes or I go.’

  Catherine gulped. ‘But I can’t just hoy her out - not with Maisie as well.’

  He was suddenly angry. ‘Then you’ve made your decision. I think it’s the wrong one. Bridie’s like a leech on your back - she’ll never let you be your own woman like I would - but it’s your choice.’

  ‘It’s not my choice!’ Catherine protested. ‘I don’t want to be tied to Bridie’s apron strings any more. It’s suffocating living with her. But what can I do?’

  ‘You could help find her another lodging house - like you did for your mother,’ Tom challenged.

  ‘I’ve thought of that,’ Catherine insisted, ‘but I can’t afford to.’

  ‘It’s not impossible.’ Tom was adamant. ‘But you’ve got to want it to happen, Kitty, really want it. For you and me. And I don’t think deep down you really do.’

  He turned away. Catherine was filled with panic. She knew that this time he would not come back. He was too hurt, and there was a stubbornness under the shy exterior, a firmness of purpose to match her own.

  ‘I do want it!’ she cried, jumping up after him and grabbing his arm. ‘More than anything I want us to be together.’ She shook him to try to make him understand. ‘But you’ve got to help me deal with Bridie. After last night, I think she might be capable of anything.’

  Tom seized her to him and held her tight. ‘I’ll be here to face her with you.’

  Catherine clung on. ‘Then together we’ll be strong.’

  Before she said anything to Bridie, Catherine went to the bank and asked about a loan. She could not raise enough to buy Bridie out. She had managed to build up another insurance policy, but again the cash value was not enough. It caused another argument with Tom.

  ‘If you can’t afford to set her up in business, she’ll just have to go back to work,’ he said, losing patience. ‘There’s plenty of it around now - new armaments factori
es opening up by the day.’

  ‘No.’ Catherine was firm. ‘I’ll think of something else. She gave up her job to help me with The Hurst. She’s used to this life now - and she’s put a lot into the place. It wouldn’t be fair.’

  Catherine had another reason she could not share with Tom. Only she knew just how intense and dangerous was Bridie’s love for her. She had seen it in the wildness of her eyes the night she had threatened to kill herself. Catherine knew from her own confused feelings for Kate how love could seesaw with hate. If Bridie’s love was spurned, the backlash of hate could be deadly. She must do all she could to give Bridie a decent alternative.

  It was while walking in the garden in the early hours of the morning, unable to sleep, that the idea came. She looked up at the dark canopy of trees and back across the damp sweep of lawns. This was her greatest asset, the land beneath her feet. Builders would snap up the chance of putting a modern villa on such a site. With the money she could buy Bridie a boarding house of her own.

  Catherine’s heart was sore at the very thought. But it was the answer she had been praying for. Armed with this new proposal, she braced herself to put it to Bridie.

  As predicted, Bridie exploded with rage. Catherine was heartless and spiteful, a betrayer of loyal friends. Then there were tears and pleadings. For Maisie’s sake let them stay. She would not stop her going out with Tom if that’s what she really wanted.

  But Catherine, strengthened by Tom’s quiet presence, went ahead with the sale of two-thirds of the garden. Even suicide threats and malicious slandering did not sway her.

  ‘You ungrateful woman!’ Catherine finally snapped. ‘I’m nearly bankrupting myself to set you up in your own place! How dare you tell my guests that I’m throwing you and Maisie out? I’m being more than fair - and after all you’ve said and done to Tom.’

  Any mention of Tom brought a string of invective from Bridie.

  ‘You’re making a big mistake throwing your life away for such a man. It won’t last. He’ll bore you to death. In ten years’ time he’ll go off with a younger woman. Then you’ll regret getting rid of the only real friend you’ve ever had.’