The Loom

by Sandra van Arend

  Why had she married John? She hadn’t been even remotely in love with him, although she had always liked him as a friend. She’d been pushed into it, in actual fact and so had John.

  After the Neil episode and after she’d been presented at court her mother had been obsessed with getting her married and ‘out of trouble’. Jessica never let her forget that episode with Neil. It had scared her mother as much as it had scared her. Nothing she had said had been able to convince Jessica that she would not do the same thing again. So she’d just let things drift, mainly because she had been bored with the endless round of partying in London. Marriage, she had thought, might be preferable and she had wanted children. She had always liked John and wanted children, but now she knew that it would be a miracle if she ever had any. Not with John, anyway.

  One thing was certain. She could never tell her parents. Was it her? Was she so repulsive that John didn’t want to touch her? No wonder she was having all these thoughts about her chauffeur. The whole situation was making her feel ill, but she just didn’t know what to do about it. If something didn’t happen soon she’d explode.

  She sighed and looked out of the window. She really must shake off this depressing feeling. They were nearly home. She couldn’t think of Cheshire as home. Hyndburn was home. It’s a beautiful day, she thought, surprised. She hadn’t noticed. She could see the mill chimneys and Pendle Hill in the distance, standing out as clear as a bell in the sunshine. She suddenly felt better and the anticipation of seeing her parents banished her misery for the moment. What she needed was to get out more. Her eyes flicked to Darkie’s capable hands on the steering wheel and her expression brightened even further.

  ‘Darkie, will you teach me to drive?’ she said suddenly.

  Darkie was startled out of his own reverie.

  ‘What, now, Mrs.

  Grentham?’ he said. ‘I’d think we’d better ask Mr.Grentham. He might not like it.’

  ‘Never mind about Mr. Grentham, Darkie; why on earth didn’t I think of it before? A lot of women drive now.’

  ‘Well, if you really want to,’ Darkie said dubiously. He didn’t like the idea at all!

  ‘Stop the car, now,’ Marion said firmly. ‘It’s quiet here and you can give me my first lesson.’

  Darkie pulled the car up reluctantly onto the grass verge. He turned round to Marion. ‘Are you sure about this Mrs. Grentham.’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Marion said impatiently. Why on earth hadn’t she thought of this before? She opened the car door and jumped out and stood next to the driver’s side. ‘Move over then, Darkie.’

  Darkie didn’t move for a moment. She didn’t just think she was going to get in and drive did she. Evidently, yes because she opened his door and he move to the passenger seat reluctantly. She settled in the driver’s seat as though born to it and turned to smile widely at him. He couldn’t help grinning back. She had a nice smile. He hadn’t seen it before, or noticed her lovely eyes.

  ‘On your head be it then,’ he said. ‘Don’t blame me if anything goes wrong.’

  ‘Of course I won’t,’ Marion said. ‘I think I’m quite capable of driving a car.’

  ‘I’m not saying you’re not, Mrs. Grentham, but a car’s a big thing to handle.’ She sighed in exasperation, waiting.

  ‘Oh, all right then,’ Darkie said, resigned. ‘First thing is, never take your eyes off the road and always keep your hands on the steering wheel.’

  Marion got hold of the wheel and Darkie began the instructions.

  ‘Now, on the floor if you just have a look you’ve got three pedals. Left for gears, next to it is the brake, and right one is the accelerator, that makes you move, so don’t be too heavy on that.’

  Marion looked at her feet and at the pedals, concentrating. She nodded.

  As Darkie continued with the lesson he found he was enjoying himself and noticed that Marion had lost that strained look. Before long she made her first tentative start, jerking along first but then the car began to roll smoothly.

  ‘All right,’ Darkie said. ‘Put your foot on the gears, take your foot off the accelerator and brake gradually.’ They pulled to a stop and Marion beamed over at him. ‘I did it.’

  ‘Aye,’ he said, laughing at her pleased expression. ‘Good. Try again.’

  She put the car in gear and pressed the accelerator. She lurched forward at a snail’s pace.

  ‘Now change gear like I showed you,’ Darkie said, which she did with an alarming crunching sound. He winced, ‘easy, easy.’ The words had hardly left his mouth when the car suddenly shot backwards at what seemed like a hundred miles an hour. He yelled and Marion clung to the steering wheel, her foot firmly glued to the accelerator.

  ‘Take your foot of the accelerator,’ Darkie yelled, ‘jumping bloody Moses!’ He tried to put his foot over hers to reach it. He looked through the back window and saw a hedge looming. He grabbed the wheel, but Marion hung onto it as though she was part of it.

  ‘Jumping bloody Moses,’ he shouted again as twigs and leaves from the hedge scraped the car. Then the car swerved over to the other side of the road. Now they were heading for a ditch. If only she’d take her foot off the bloody accelerator, he thought in panic. He was sweating, an image flashing through his head of the car upside down and them inside it. The car tipped dangerously. Frantic, he kicked Marion’s foot off the accelerator and managed to get his other foot on the brake. By this time he was almost sitting on her knee. The car suddenly stopped at the edge of a steep incline.

  There was complete silence for a moment, except for heavy breathing. Marion’s legs were like jelly. She began to shake. Darkie turned the ignition off with a trembling hand. He was almost on top of Marion. She didn’t seem to notice but just stared at him, her eyes enormous.

  ‘It’s all right, now, it’s all right,’ he said.

  Marion drew a deep breath. Darkie’s face was so close to hers that she could see the fine dark hairs on his upper lip. He had full red lips. Just the white tips of his teeth were showing as he gazed down on her. Her mouth began to twitch and she said in thick dialect. ‘Jumping bloody Moses?’

  Darkie looked surprised, ‘aye, jumping bloody Moses.’ His voice shook a little. They looked at each other for a moment, then began to laugh hysterically.

  ‘That’s one I haven’t heard before, Darkie,’ Marion said when she got her breath back.

  ‘Aye, we said it all the time at the Front,’ Darkie said. ‘Moses was jumping all over the place there.’

  He smiled at her ruefully. ‘Well, so much for driving lessons. Had enough for today?’

  Marion nodded, aware of how close they were. She could feel his breath on her cheek. A hot flush swept through her. His gaze dropped to her lips and he slowly bent forward and kissed her, lightly at first and when she didn’t draw back, more firmly. His lips were soft, with a gentle pressure, which made her want more. Another heat wave engulfed her. She was weaker in the knees now than she had been when the car had shot bac

  ‘I shouldn’t have done that,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Marion put her finger to his lips. ‘Don’t say that. I know what you’re thinking, but times have changed.’ She looked at him and said fiercely. ‘I liked it.’

  ‘So did I!’ Darkie was in a daze. A few moments ago his mind had been on nothing more than going to see his mother. Now his heart was beating like a drum. He’d kissed Mrs. Grentham like he’d never kissed any one in his life before. His mind was in a whirl, not to mention the little drama with the driving. He moved slightly away from her.

  ‘I’ve never felt like this before,’ he said in a low voice.

  ‘Me either.’

  ‘But you’re married!’

  Marion sighed and pulled her hat on which had come off when Darkie had kissed her. ‘If only you knew,’ she said softly.

  ‘Knew what?’ Darkie said.

  She told him. Everything! Darkie sat and listened in stunned silence. It didn’t make sense. ‘You mea
n in all this time he hasn’t touched you?’

  Marion shook her head. ‘Not once.’

  ‘I can’t believe it. He must be wrong in the head. He hasn’t got someone else, has he?’

  ‘I don’t think so, but if he has he’s been pretty good at hiding it.’

  ‘You don’t think it was the war, do you?’

  ‘I don’t know, Darkie, I honestly don’t know. I’ve tried to talk to him about it but he just ignores me. Do you think it’s me?’

  Darkie laughed. ‘Don’t be stupid.’ Marion blushed.

  ‘All I can say,’ Darkie said, ‘Is that there’s something seriously wrong with the man.’ He took a packet of Woodbine’s out of his pocket and lit up. Marion watched him. She felt comfortable with him.

  Darkie turned to her. ‘What are we going to do, then, Mrs. Grentham?’ He hesitated.

  ‘Call me Marion,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Not when other people are around.’

  ‘Of course, just when we’re on our own until we decide what to do. And I will do something, believe me Darkie.’ She kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t know. I could have the marriage annulled. I’ll just wait for a few days to think things over.’ She looked at her watch on her coat lapel. ‘We’d better go. Mother will be expecting us.’ She opened the car door. ‘I’d better get in the back. I think we’ll forget the driving lessons for a while.’

  ‘Aye,’ he nodded, ‘that would be a good idea.’

  ‘Thanks for the driving lesson, I’m sure you’ve had a rough ride, though. She got in the back and slammed the door. He saw her grin through the mirror. He laughed.

  ‘That’s an understatement. If I want a ride like that I can go to Blackpool and it won’t be half as dangerous.’

  He put the car into gear and drove off. Very carefully!

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Leah stood under the stairs, shivering. Her mother’s voice floated in to her from the partially open door. Through the crack she could see her having an animated conversation with Mr. Toomey the Club Man, as he was called who collected her insurance money every week.

  ‘Ee, well, Mr. Toomey, fancy that. Who would have thought that of Elsie Pierce? It just goes to show that some people’ll do owt for money.’

  ‘Aye, aye, it does that,’ Mr. Toomey replied in his ponderous voice.

  ‘Well, you’d think….’ On and on went the interminable conversation, punctuated by a few loud guffaws from the vociferous Mr. Toomey as Emma came out with a few laughable comments. It was the same every week. He always stayed and talked and talked. He normally didn’t come on Saturday but had been in the area and just ‘popped in’ (like so many others did, Leah thought in exasperation). Couldn’t it have waited until Monday, she thought, fuming because she had to catch the train to Blackpool at six?

  She shivered again. She moaned, as the blah blah blab drifted in to her. Mam’s forgotten I’m here. I could be here till next week the way they’re going on. She was to meet Kathryn at the Blackburn Station and then they would both catch the next train to Blackpool. Kathryn was going to kill her because she’d never make it by six.

  Peering though the crack again she could see the side of her mother and Mr. Toomey’s back, his stocky figure almost completely hiding Emma and preventing her from seeing Leah frantically gesticulating. She opened the door a little wider but that didn’t do the trick, either. It’s no good, she thought almost in tears, she’ll never see me and I could be stuck here for ages.

  Leah seethed in frustration. She was freezing as well. Her mother did annoy her at times and this was definitely one of them. She’d been having a good wash in the tin in front of the fire when someone knocked on the door.

  ‘Come in,’ her mother called from the scullery.

  ‘Mam!’ Leah was standing in her knickers at the time and looked up in alarm. Emma peered round the door.

  ‘Sorry, love, I forgot you were having a wash.’ Leah scampered under the stairs just as Mr. Toomey opened the door into the living area.

  It must have been a good quarter of an hour since then and she’d get pneumonia if her mother didn’t hurry up, because there was a cold draught blowing under her knickers and her behind and all the rest of her felt like a block of ice.

  That was the only thing wrong with her mother, her love of company. Yesterday it had been her three old aunts. Emma’s aunt’s that is, so they were quite old.

  The visit had lasted hours. Leah eventually got fed up and went out. She could stand the gossiping, laughing, taking snuff but when they began to fart she was off. She went over to Annie Fitton who wasn’t much better.

  ‘It’s like Windy Hollow in there,’ Leah shouted. Annie nodded. She was cutting a loaf of bread in her usual fashion with the loaf held against her chest and tucked under her chin, sawing away with the knife. Leah watched in fascination.

  ‘Be careful you don’t cut your throat, Annie,’ Leah said loudly.

  ‘It’s all right. This is the only way I can do it. Never could cut bread on a table. I’ve done this for forty years, so don’t worry,’ Annie replied.

  She put the bread down after she’d cut two slices.

  ‘Would you like a sandwich love? I was just going to make one for meself.’

  ‘No thanks, Annie.’

  ‘Aye, getting back to what you said. It gets like that when you get old. The plumbing system breaks down a bit.’

  ‘A bit,’ Leah said, raising her eyebrows. ‘I almost got blasted out of the room, not to mention the smell!’

  So with that episode yesterday and now today she’d be glad to get back to the Hall. At least there she had a bit of privacy. Then she felt guilty. It wasn’t her Mam’s fault that she liked people popping in all day.

  When Darkie had got the job at the Hall they’d persuaded Emma to quit work. Emma had resisted at first but then she had realized just how tired she was. Staying home was like Paradise, but she needed company, she told Leah.

  Leah looked through the crack again and was relieved that Mr. Toomey had walked to the door. Good, it looked like he was getting ready to leave. If only they’d both go through into the front room they could carry on their conversation for ever as far as she was concerned, just so long as she could get out from under these stairs. She was turning into a stalagmite.

  She heard the door close with a click and rushed out from under the stairs and into the back room, shivering violently.

  Emma returned to the living room looking shamefaced.

  ‘I’m sorry, love, I completely forget you were under the stairs until Mr. Toomey mentioned how he found it hard to get up the stairs these days on account of his rheumatism. I nearly had a fit when I remembered. It’ll be a wonder you don’t get pneumonia standing there and me gabbing like a two bob watch. Ee, I could shoot meself, nattering on like that.’

  Leah’s shaking had subsided to an occasional shiver.

  ‘It’s all right, Mam. I know what you’re like. You didn’t do it on purpose but when you get going you never know when to stop.’

  ‘Aye, I am a bit of a blabber mouth; me Mam was the same; talk, talk, talk, from morning till night.’ She looked at the clock. ‘If you hurry you can still catch that train.’ It was five thirty and the train left at six. She’d be lucky! ‘Come on love I’ll help you. I’ll go and get your dress from upstairs.’

  Leah quickly put on her girdle, her knickers, fine silk stockings and a camisole. Her mother came in carrying her dress, holding it carefully. It was white chiffon with hand painted pale pink roses here and there on it, sprigged with a few leaves in a russet colour. Underneath was a pale pink slip.

  The dress was beautiful, tight fitting to her hips and then falling in graceful folds to her knees. She had made it herself and also a russet green velvet coat. It matched the dress perfectly, as did her white silk shoes. She put the dress on and stepped into her shoes.

  ‘You look lovely,’ Emma said, standing back with her head
on one side. She was proud of the way Leah could sew. Even Mrs. Townsend was impressed with her skill and had even intimated that she would like Leah to make a dress for her. This outfit had hardly cost a penny. Miss Fenton took her up into the attics one day and they’d found trunks and trunks of old clothes carefully packed in mothballs. Miss Fenton had held up a long white high waisted chiffon dress from one of the trunks.

  ‘We could use this for your dress,’ she said. Then they found a long russet coloured velvet cloak, ‘and this for your coat.’

  ‘Mrs. Townsend won’t mind, will she?’ Leah said anxiously.

  ‘No, no, she said for us to come up and take what we wanted. You’ll have to be careful with the unpicking, especially with that chiffon.’

  That had been the hardest part. It had taken Leah ages but it had been well worth the effort, she thought, as she took a quick look in the mirror. She could only see her top half. Pity she hadn’t that long mirror at the Hall.

  ‘I’d better get going,’ she said. She ran a comb quickly through her hair, which she’d let grow and now stood out from her face in an auburn halo. She picked up her bag.

  ‘It’s a good thing you’re coming back tonight. You wouldn’t want to be saddled with all the paraphernalia you usually take.’

  Leah nodded and hurried to the front door. Usually she was laden with all the things her mother packed for her, because normally she normally the weekend when she went to Blackpool. Emma even went so far as to pack fresh eggs carefully put in an old stocking with a knot tied between, because they did their own cooking at the lodging house where they stayed. Leah was always afraid she’d open her bag and everything would be covered in egg!

  ‘Now be careful, love and make sure you don’t miss that last train back. I know what you and Kathryn are like, dancing mad and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you got stranded there.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mam.’ Emma watched Leah almost run up Glebe Street in her finery. A few people stopped to stare. And no wonder, Emma thought, she does look lovely.

  It still amazed Emma that working class people now patronized all the fashionable establishments and enjoyed themselves, like the Park Lane lot, dancing in the elegant ballrooms at Blackpool.