The Loom

by Sandra van Arend

  Blackpool had its huge Tower facilities, which included a gigantic ballroom, an indoor circus where the floor would suddenly disappear and then fill with water to form a huge swimming pool where high divers thrilled the crowd.

  There was also the Winter Gardens complex, again with an enormous ballroom capable of holding hundreds of dancers. There were numerous elegant bars with palm fronded décors.

  Then there were the Blackpool Illuminations: a three-mile promenade of millions of coloured lights, intricately bringing fairy stories to life for young and old alike. There were pantomimes and all kinds of entertainment on the beach (donkey rides were one), and a trip to this fascinating place was a yearly event much anticipated.

  When Leah and Kathryn went for the weekend they stayed in cheap lodgings which only cost them two and six each. It was spotlessly clean and although Kathryn turned her nose up she put up with it because Leah couldn’t afford anything else.

  On these weekends they thought of nothing but dancing. They’d dance on the pier in the morning to the pier band. In the afternoon it would be off to the Palace where Wilmington’s band played. They would only stop to catch their breath when Wilmington did his ‘turn’: handless cartwheels while still playing his fiddle.

  The best time was the evening. Dressing up, dancing all night and falling into bed in the early morning. They would have a few hours sleep and arrive home late Sunday, absolutely exhausted.

  Leah hurried into the station to see the train disappearing round the bend. She stopped in consternation. Kathryn would be livid. She’d have to wait an hour now for the next one, twiddling her thumbs because it was too far to walk home and back again. She cursed her mother. It was her fault!

  She wandered up and down the station frozen to the bone until the next train came. She boarded it with relief and huddled in the corner trying to keep warm. Fifteen minutes later she stepped off the platform. Kathryn stood waving and shouting. Even from such distance she could hear every word.

  ‘Where the bloody hell have you been? You promised me you’d be on the six o’clock train. Bloody night’ll be over by the time we get there.’

  Leah hurried over. ‘I’m sorry, Kathryn. It was Mam’s fault.’ Kathryn glowered at her.

  When the train came for Blackpool she wouldn’t talk and sulked all the way. Leah sat in the other corner and resigned herself to Kathryn’s bad mood. It’ll go when we get there, she thought, hoping she was right.

  Blackpool was crowded with the usual Saturday night people, all out to have a good time. The huge ballroom of the Winter Gardens was filled with elegant dancers, women in glittering finery, men dandied up, many of them in black tux and snowy shirts.

  Two bands at either end of the ballroom were warming up, Duraski’s, the one at the far end, looking set to play the first few numbers. The high pitched voices of the women and lower tones of the men echoed round the cavernous dance hall. Hundreds of lights blazed down from huge chandeliers, turning the ballroom into a fairyland of light and colour. Leah stood on the top step of the wide staircase, which led onto the ballroom below. She smiled in anticipation, her cheeks flushed. She loved these Saturday nights!

  She decided to wait for Kathryn at the bottom. As she walked the chiffon floated around her. Eyes turned towards her. Her flush deepened. Normally there were a lot of people on the stairs but just now she was the only one so she stood out. Leah hadn’t seen Paddy. He stood watching as she walked, or seemed to him, to float down the stairs, her breasts rising and falling under the filmy material, her hair gleaming red under the lights. He caught his breath. Enchantment was the word that came to his mesmerized mind. This was an image of Leah which would come back to him time and time again over the years: the billowing white chiffon, rise and fall of her breasts, the halo of her hair.

  Paddy’s feelings for Leah had not diminished over the years. Rather they’d grown stronger. Even her lack of reciprocation had not deterred him. What did grate on his nerves was the sneaking suspicion that she was interested in the eldest Townsend son. There was nothing he could do about that except hope it was temporary and she’d get over it. What chance did she have with that lot, he thought, as he watched her, even if she was beautiful? No chance at all if he knew the nobs. They kept to themselves those sorts and he only hoped that she didn’t fall for some of the soft-soaping, because he knew the nobs liked to play along with the lower classes and then leave them high and dry. And not always dry, he thought. But surely Leah was not stupid enough to fall for that! In the meantime he was willing to bide his time. When she got fed up of mooning over something she couldn’t have, he’d step in. He had patience and he was stubborn, which he hoped would wear her down. One day she might look on him as more than a friend. There was no law against looking though, he thought, his eyes devouring her.

  Leah glanced over to where he stood. Her eyes flew wide with surprise.

  ‘Paddy!’ she said. ‘I didn’t know you were coming tonight.’

  ‘Aye, I thought I’d put me dancing shoes on and have a bit of fun.’ His mouth was as dry. Damn and blast that Townsend! ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes, Leah.’

  ‘Thank you, Paddy.’ Leah looked around. ‘Have you seen Kathryn? I’m supposed to meet her here.’

  ‘No, no I haven’t.’

  The band suddenly started to play. Leah’s face brightened.

  ‘Come on, Leah, have a dance with me,’ Paddy said.

  Leah gave one last look around and put her hand out.

  ‘All right, Paddy, I can’t resist that music.’ She smiled at him as he took her in his arms. I wish you couldn’t resist me, he thought, as they began to waltz. Paddy was a good dancer, a joy to dance with, Leah thought as they twirled and dipped to the music.

  Leah looked up. ‘You’re such a good dancer, Paddy.’

  ‘It must be me partner,’ he quipped. He was looking at her with such intensity that she flushed. She hoped he wasn’t going to start that again. He knew how she felt. She was glad when the dance ended. She looked around. The floor was almost full now of dancers waiting for the next number.

  ‘There’s Kathryn,’ she said in relief. ‘Come on.’

  She walked off the floor quickly, followed by Paddy. How she wished it were Stephen and not Paddy following behind.

  Paddy had immediately sensed how she felt. His eyes glittered with anger and his smile disappeared.

  Leah felt guilty because Paddy wasn’t stupid and probably had twigged; knew when she was with him she was wishing it was someone else.

  ‘Thanks for the dance, Leah,’ he said, nodding to Kathryn, ‘I’ll be seeing you,’ and walked off.

  ‘What’s up with him then?’ Kathryn said. She rather fancied Paddy and had hoped he’d ask her to dance. ‘Not often he’s like that with you.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Leah said, watching him walk away. Why did she suddenly feel hurt that he’d gone off in a huff? But then again, she’d almost told him she didn’t want him around, not by anything she’d said but what she hadn’t said. She sighed in exasperation. Why should she worry about Paddy? She didn’t owe him a thing! She smiled brightly at Kathryn who was eyeing a particularly debonair young man with slicked back hair and smart moustache.

  ‘I’m not going to worry about him. Let’s have a good time while we can.’

  **********

  Marion turned to look back. Her mother and father stood on the front terrace. She raised her hand to them and then settled back in the seat. ‘Thank goodness that’s over with,’ she said to the back of Darkie’s head.

  He nodded. She heard him sigh with relief. ‘Aye, thank goodness.’

  George and Jessica watched as the Rolls disappeared round a corner of the drive. The day had turned into a lovely evening and the sky was lit by the glow of a magnificent sunset. Clear blues merged gradually into pale pinks, then lilac and mauve and finally fiery orange and red, the colours brilliant against the dark silhouettes of the trees. Wisps of trailing clouds had turned into golden ba
nners.

  ‘She seems much better,’ George said, turning to look at his wife.

  ‘Yes, she does. That’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh in months. She must be getting used to married life at last.’

  George put his arm around Jessica. She leant against him, not at all like Jessica. He wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, though and hugged her closer. She smiled up at him. His heart lurched. It hadn’t done that in a long time. Jessica was much more lovable lately and he was enjoying it; also the fact that he was seeing a lot less of Paul. He’d wondered about this but when he questioned Jessica she had been very vague. He wasn’t going to complain about it. Just enjoy the peace and quiet while he could.

  Another strange but welcome change was in Raymond. He was now working hard for his entrance to Oxford. George was surprised at this because Raymond was not academically inclined and it was almost as though he was doing it to please him. Wonders would never cease, he thought as they walked back inside.

  Jessica had still not recovered from the library episode and Raymond had maintained a cold reserve with her ever since. She hardly saw him when he was home, except at meal times. As soon as he finished eating he either shot off to his room to listen to that infernal phonograph or walked the fells for hours on end. His moroseness and withdrawal hurt her deeply. Nothing she said or did could alter his attitude to her and in the end she had given up. Thankfully Leah had kept her mouth shut.

  She’d turned to George for consolation. His quiet reassurance, his loyalty, his kindness had given her a new kind of peace. She found that she loved him more deeply now than she’d ever done. So she was happy, in spite of her misgivings.

  ‘Where’s Paul these days?’ George said to Jessica as they walked into the sitting room. ‘We don’t see much of him lately.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Jessica said. ‘The last time I heard he was in Germany, with some cousins. You know how he loves Germany, so I suppose he’ll be there for some time.’

  ‘Good,’ George said. He laughed shortly. ‘He can sponge off them now.’ He walked over to a table and picked up his pipe. ‘By the way, are the Grenthams coming to the Conservative Ball this year?’ He tamped the tobacco in the pipe, then lit it.

  ‘Yes, I think they are from what Marion said. Stephen should be home from London as well.’

  He went and sat down on the settee next to his wife and draped his arm around her shoulders, puffing contentedly on his pipe. This is the way it should be, he thought. At last everything seemed to be working out. He was mainly relieved that Marion seemed happier. They might even see some grandchildren soon. He hoped so. He liked children. After all, wasn’t that what life was all about: the procreation of the species, being happy, enjoying life while you could. He seemed to be getting his priorities right for once and had even cut down on his work so that he could be with Jessica more. He felt that they were both now enjoying life to the full.

  Jessica noticed the slight smile, ‘Penny for them. You look like the cat that ate the cream.’

  He laughed. ‘Does it show that much?’

  ‘It does rather. I’m glad you’re happy, darling.’

  ‘I’m happy when you’re happy,’ he said, kissing her on the lips.

  Grimsby walked in with the tea tray. He set the tray on the table in front of them, his expression inscrutable as usual, but he’d seen the kiss. He was happy for them. Things had changed at the Hall, for the better, he would think just as long as that wastrel brother of Mrs. Townsend kept away. He often wondered how Mr. Townsend had put up with him.

  ‘Thank you Grimsby,’ Jessica said, taking the cloth off the watercress sandwiches. ‘I can pour.’

  ‘Very well, Mrs. Townsend,’ Grimsby said pleasantly.

  He went back to the kitchen still thinking of that look Mr. Townsend had given Mrs. Townsend. Like young lovers they were! He had a smile on his face as he entered the kitchen.

  ‘Now Gertie, what do you mean by that?’ Maud said as he walked in.

  Gertie had her hands on her hips, chin jutting belligerently.

  She looked smug. ‘Just what I said, Mrs. Walters: some things aren’t what they seem and that’s all I’m going to say for now.’

  ‘Aye, well, don’t come here with them sort of remarks, because they’re not appreciated.’

  ‘No, a lot of things aren’t appreciated unless some uppity person has done ‘em.’ Gertie glared at Maud and then at Mr. Grimsby.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he said. He wasn’t smiling now and his long face had darkened to a scowl. Maud looked upset. That’s what happens when that Gertie’s around, he thought. Just look at that face! He’d like to wipe that look off with the back of his hand. He would one day, too, if she wasn’t careful.

  ‘I’ll look at you any way I want.’ Gertie flounced off into the scullery before he could reply, or do what he wanted to do.

  Maud set a cup and saucer in front of him. ‘Ee, I don’t know Alf. Gertie comes out with some odd things at times.’

  Gertie came back into the kitchen with a cloth to clean the silver in the morning room. She ignored them both and went out, banging the kitchen door after her.

  ‘I can’t stand that girl,’ Maud said. ‘She’s an unpleasant piece and it doesn’t make a scrap of difference what anyone says, she doesn’t get any better.’

  Alf put the cup to his mouth, wrinkling his long nose as he took a sip. He looked odd, because his nostrils opened wide when he did it and as Maud said to Leah, you could almost see his brain. He nodded and put his cup down.

  ‘She’s a strange one that girl; never seen stranger; can’t work her out.’ He spoke with a strong Cockney accent, in short sharp sentences, as though cutting his words off with the scissors. ‘Something odd there. Something strange! She seems to have a lot of new clothes lately, too. Noticed that?’

  Maud sat opposite him and drank her tea. She frowned. ‘Now you come to mention it, I have. She does seem to have money to burn lately. I’ve asked her about it but she just gives me one of her nasty, smug looks and laughs and tells me to mind me own business. Sometimes I could hit her and I will one day if she’s not careful.’

  ‘Oh, I forgot, Maud. They want dinner at seven tonight, not seven thirty.’

  ‘Oh, thanks for telling me,’ Maud said jumping up. ‘I’ve still got to make the jam rolly.’

  She called to Jenny Brown in the scullery, who was making a lot of noise with the dishes.

  ‘Come in Jenny, lass and help me with this pudding.’

  **********

  ‘You’re coming and I’ll not take no for an answer,’ Kathryn said determinedly.

  ‘I’d liked to,’ Leah said, ‘But what would people think?’

  ‘Bugger what people think,’ Kathryn retorted. ‘It’s only the bloody Harwood Mercer Hall, not bloody Buckingham Palace.’

  Leah laughed ruefully. She’d no chance against Kathryn once she got a bee in her bonnet. She tried once more.

  ‘I can’t imagine me, from Glebe Street, going to the Conservative Ball, can you? It’d be the talk of the town. You know what people are like.’

  ‘I couldn’t bloody care less. What’s it to them, anyway. None of their bloody business who goes to any bloody ball.’

  ‘I haven’t got a ticket,’ Leah said. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go. She’d be out of her depth with all the Park Lane lot.

  ‘I’ve got a ticket for you,’ Kathryn said triumphantly. ‘Me Dad had a spare one and I told him that I wouldn’t be going unless you came, too.’

  ‘Mm, well, if you’ve got a ticket.’

  Leah was still doubtful, although now she came to think of it, why shouldn’t she? She could hold her own with the nobs and it wasn’t as though she’d nothing to wear. She had a few lovely dresses. So what was to stop her? Kathryn saw Leah’s expression changing. She didn’t need to argue, because she’d come!

  ‘If you’re sure,’ Leah said doubtfully.

  Kathryn looked exasperated. ‘Do
you want it in writing?’

  Leah began to feel excited. The Conservative Ball! The biggest social event in Harwood where all the posh people went dressed to kill. Well this time it would be the posh people and Leah Hammond!

  ‘But what about your mother,’ Leah said.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about her. You know what she’s like. She says I drive her mad but I think it’s the other way round.’

  Leah smiled to herself. She could just imagine the look on Mrs. McAuley’s face when Kathryn told her. Kathryn was the bane of her mother’s life because no amount of beautiful clothes, going to all the right schools, associating with the Park Lane lot, playing tennis and golf in the exclusive clubs could make Kathryn what she was not. Kathryn couldn’t act posh if her life depended on it.

  Strangely enough though, Kathryn fit into both sets, because she was just herself ‘without any side’ as Leah put it. Mrs. McAuley couldn’t see this. Kathryn suffered in silence most of the time, and although she couldn’t hit a tennis ball for toffee or a golf ball for that matter, she attended all the right clubs to please her. She wore her expensive clothes to perfection for she had a superb figure, willow slim, as the latest fashion demanded. It was her voice, which had her mother at her wit’s end. No amount of elocution, sending away to finishing school or threats of dire punishment could get rid of Kathryn’s dialect.

  Mr. Peters was Kathryn’s elocution teacher. Kathryn was his worst student and not good advertising for his profession. Kathryn would mimic him to Leah, who laughed till she cried and declared that all Kathryn’s misery with him was worth it just for that.

  ‘Oh, thank you very much. I’ve got to suffer so that you can have a good laugh,’ Kathryn said. ‘If I have to say ‘how now brown cow’ one more time I’ll start mooing. And him and his rain in Spain! I hope the bloody place gets flooded. I can’t stand him, he’s such a bloody pansy; all them airs and graces and talking like he’s a mouth full of cotton wool. What, with him and me mother I’ll end up in the looney bin. If people don’t like me voice they’ll just have to lump it and take the odd swear words as well, just to add a bit of colour.’