Chaff upon the Wind

by Margaret Dickinson

  He caught hold of her, pinioning both wrists easily in the broad grasp of his one hand. ‘Don’t you call me a fool.’

  ‘You promised, Jack. You . . .’

  ‘I never promised any such thing.’

  ‘Let – me – go,’ she cried, wrenching herself free. Standing back, a little way from him, she shook her fist. ‘I’m done with you, Jack Thorndyke. The only thing that’s held me here these last few years has been the truth about Johnnie. And now that’s out, there’s nothing to keep me here.’

  His lip curled. ‘The boy stays with me. He is my son.’

  ‘Prove it,’ she spat back at him. ‘Your name’s not on his birth certificate, because I registered him. I am his mother in the eyes of the law.’

  He stepped closer, menacing, trying to intimidate her, but Kitty was too angry now to be afraid. ‘In the eyes of the law, then, you’ve committed a criminal act if you’ve registered yourself as his mother.’

  ‘Prove it,’ she said again boldly. ‘Who’s to prove it?’

  For a moment he looked nonplussed then the devious smile curved his mouth again, a mouth, Kitty noticed now, that had a cruel twist to it. ‘There must have been people who knew when he was born just who did give birth to him. There must have been a midwife or a doctor present.’

  Now it was Kitty’s turn to smile deviously. ‘Oh aye, and where was he born then? Only me and Miss Miriam know that and we aren’t going to tell.’

  His face was thunderous, but he was not beaten yet. Not quite. He shook his fist in her face. ‘I’ll report you for giving false information on his birth certificate. That’s a criminal offence.’

  Kitty realized he was probably right, but she had one final card to play and it was as if her whole future depended upon it. ‘Go on, then. Report it. But just think – before you do – what it would do to Johnnie. You make out you care for him so much. Let’s see if you really do. You know full well that you are his father, but is it the action of a loving, concerned father to drag such a scandal through the courts? And how would you come out of it? When you seduced Miss Miriam, she was a young, genteel girl who, for all her fiery temper, was very naive and probably didn’t know much about how babies were made. But you did, Jack Thorndyke. How will that look, eh, splashed across all the local papers?’ She paused, seeing the glimmer of uncertainty creeping into his eyes now. Then she made her final thrust. ‘Go on then, Jack, report the whole sorry story. You can’t hurt me any more than you already have done. But there’s others you will hurt and badly. Miss Miriam and her family – and that includes Sir Ralph now, because despite the way his son died, he’s stuck by her and he’s very fond of her. Treats her like a daughter, he does, even though she mebbe doesn’t deserve it. And you – who do you think is going to employ Threshing Jack around here after that? Because Sir Ralph and Mr Franklin will see to it that no one does.’

  ‘By, you’re spiteful, Kitty Clegg, when it comes to it, ain’t you?’

  Kitty shook her head and said, with infinite sadness in her tone, ‘There’s no spite in what I’m saying. I’m just stating the simple truth. But I’m finished with you, Jack, ’cos there’s no more you can do to hurt me now. I loved you once, oh how very much I loved you. I’d have done anything for you . . .’ she nodded, ‘and I did. But slowly you’ve killed that love and now I feel nothing for you, except perhaps a great sadness for what might have been.’

  ‘I suppose you think your genteel lover, Master Edward, is going to rescue you, eh?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, not now,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Not after what he’s learned this day.’

  ‘No, turned his back on you, hasn’t he, now he’s found you out for the scheming little hussy you really are.’

  They glared at each other, but no more was said. Everything had been said, and that had been a mite too much. How true it was, Kitty thought, that you could never undo something once said.

  Jack’s outburst could never be undone and oh, what tragedy might yet unfold because of his few vengeful words.

  Fifty-Four

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Clegg. Are Kitty and – and young Johnnie staying with you?’

  She heard his voice at the door and, straightening up from where she had been bending over to black-lead the range in her mother’s kitchen, Kitty’s heart began to pound.

  ‘Teddy,’ she breathed, the pet name of their youth coming to her lips. She half-turned, looking towards the door, absent-mindedly rubbing her hands down her apron, leaving grubby streaks. A smudge on the end of her nose gave her a vulnerable, girlish look and this was how Edward saw her when he came into the room at her mother’s invitation. They stood staring at each other while behind Edward, Mrs Clegg quietly closed the door and tiptoed out of the house.

  On the day her world had finally fallen apart, Kitty had spent three hours searching the fields and woods for Johnnie. At last she had found him, once more huddled in the hayloft in the stables at the Hall.

  She had climbed up and sat down in the warm dry hay beside him. For a long time they had not spoken. Then he had moved in the hay beside her and she felt his warmth as he snuggled against her side. ‘I met Mister Edward in the lane and he – he asked me if anything was the matter. I – I . . .’ The boy hesitated, as if ashamed to admit it. ‘I was crying.’ Her arm went about him and in the dusk, she smiled sadly. It seemed to her infinitely sad that a boy as young as Johnnie should feel shame at shedding tears.

  ‘I didn’t tell him anything, but he must have just come to see what was happening.’

  ‘It’s all right. It – it doesn’t matter,’ she tried to reassure him though it was hard to keep the tremble from her voice. If only, oh if only, Teddy hadn’t come at that moment.

  Beside her, the boy shifted again and the hay rustled. His voice was muffled against her as he said, ‘I don’t want to stay with Dad if that Milly’s going to come. I don’t like her. Why does he want her when he’s got you?’

  Now Kitty did smile. ‘It’s all very complicated. Maybe some day I will explain it all to you. It’s grown-up silliness. But your dad isn’t happy with me any more and he thinks he can be with Milly.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe he can. I don’t know.’

  She was tired of it all. Tired of all the secrets and the lies. In a way she was glad it was out, glad that the ties that bound her so tightly to Jack had been severed just as if he had cut them with the axe he had been wielding.

  ‘Then I want to come with you. I don’t want to stay with him – and her.’ His arms tightened about Kitty and happiness and relief flooded through her. His voice was muffled as he buried his face against her breast. ‘I love you, Mam. Whatever happens, I’ll stay with you.’

  They had climbed down from the loft then, hand in hand, and made their way back through the darkness to the cottage. Jack was gone and Kitty neither knew nor cared where. But she packed their few belongings and left, anxious to be out before he should return. She was not sure what he intended to do about Johnnie. She feared that he would still, if he could, try to take the boy from her.

  In the early hours of the morning they were knocking on the door of the stationmaster’s house.

  ‘It won’t be for long, Mam, I promise,’ she told a startled and bleary-eyed Betsy Clegg. ‘Just until I can sort out what I’m going to do. We ought to get away, right away from here, but I can’t go yet. Not just yet.’

  Something had held her here. Was it a vain hope that, even yet, all was not lost?

  And now here he was standing in the centre of the cramped and crowded kitchen, the only sound the singing of the kettle on the hearth. She rubbed her hands down her apron again, feeling them damp with nervousness.

  ‘Master Edward.’ Aloud the courtesy title still came automatically. ‘Won’t you – sit down?’ Her voice was hoarse.

  But he continued to stand, just looking at her. ‘Oh Kitty,’ he said at last and a small, sad smile touched his mouth. ‘Still not “Teddy”?’

  She glanced down, awkward and unsure. T
hen she lifted her head and looked at him again as she felt the tears prickle her eyelids. ‘Oh Teddy,’ she burst out, no longer able to contain the words. ‘I’m so sorry, so terribly sorry. How you must hate me, despise me . . .’

  He covered the space between them in two strides and put his hands gently on her shoulders. ‘How could you even think that of me? Don’t you know how very much I love you, adore you. I always have. All I have ever wanted was your happiness. And now I find that your life has been wretched and all because of my selfish sister. And my mother, if it comes to that. Yesterday, when Thorndyke blurted it out, it was a shock naturally, but when I’d – well – calmed down, I realized that it wasn’t so much of a surprise after all. Everything fell into place at once. Even though I was only a boy at the time – and a sick one at that – I remember being concerned about Miriam. I used to see her riding off across the fields, but I thought she was going to the Hall to see Guy. And I knew he would never have done anything to harm her. When you both went away so suddenly, I was puzzled for a while but I believed my mother’s explanation that she wanted Miriam to see a bit of the world before she settled down as Guy’s wife. And then, when you came back, all I could think of was that I’d lost you for ever to Jack because you’d had his child.’ He paused and wrinkled his forehead and there was a note of surprise in his tone now. ‘But do you know, even then, it didn’t ring quite true that my selfish sister would have been so thoughtful and caring about her maid that she’d have taken her away and looked after her. Now I see that it was much more likely to be the other way about. And it was, wasn’t it?’

  Kitty nodded wordlessly.

  His tone hardened. ‘I am not proud of how my sister and my mother have used you, Kitty.’

  She was shaking her head. ‘No, no, it wasn’t like that. I am as much to blame. But they were going to place Johnnie for adoption. They were going to give him away and I couldn’t bear it. And that part of it, I’ve never regretted. Not for a moment. But I was wrong when I – I tried to deceive Jack.’

  ‘Ah yes, Jack Thorndyke.’ Edward’s hands fell away and his mouth was tight. ‘He’s at the centre of everything, isn’t he?’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Kitty, do you, despite everything, still love him?’

  ‘No, no, I don’t.’ Briefly, she covered her face with her hands and then she felt him gently pulling them away and taking them, dirty as they were, into his own and holding them tightly. ‘Kitty? Kitty, look at me.’

  Slowly she raised her eyes to look into his. Never in the whole of her life had she seen such love and devotion in anyone’s eyes. And it was for her, all for her. Suddenly, she felt very humble. ‘Oh Teddy, I’ve been such a stupid fool.’

  ‘Hush, my love . . .’ and then his lips touched hers in a kiss so gentle it was almost reverent.

  She clung to him then, burying her face against his neck and as his arms went about her, holding her close, she sobbed out all the unhappiness, all the burden of the guilty secret she had borne so long.

  ‘I’m sorry, so sorry . . .’

  ‘Hush now, hush, my dearest,’ he murmured and when at last she drew back and took the handkerchief he offered, he coaxed her to sit down in the old leather chair at the side of the range that was her father’s place. He dropped to one knee on the pegged rug and once more took her hands into his. ‘Kitty Clegg,’ he said, and though his tone was light-hearted, almost teasing, the expression in his eyes was never more serious. ‘Will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?’

  Kitty gasped. ‘Oh Teddy, I couldn’t – I mean . . . It wouldn’t be right.’

  The tone was still gentle though now she could see the hurt in his face. ‘Why, Kitty? I thought you said you didn’t love him any more. I know you can never love me, but I’d take care of you, you and your son. All I want is to make you happy.’

  She noticed that he said, with slight emphasis, ‘your son’, and she loved him all the more for that.

  ‘Oh Teddy, you’re wrong . . .’ Suddenly she was overcome with shyness and stammered, ‘I d-do love you. Truly I do. That’s what’s so awful – what’s been so awful.’

  ‘Kitty,’ he said, touching her face with the tips of his fingers. ‘Do you mean it? Do you really mean it?’

  ‘Yes, oh yes. I’ve loved you for so long now, ever since before you went away to the war, I think.’

  ‘Then why? Whyever did you stay with him if . . .?’

  She was shaking her head. ‘Don’t you see? I couldn’t leave him, because he threatened to tell the truth if I did. About Johnnie being Miriam’s. And – and he threatened to take Johnnie away from me.’

  ‘So you stayed with him, all this time, just to keep the secret? My sister’s secret?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, but it was for Johnnie too. I love him dearly, Teddy, every bit as much as if he really were my own son. And after all, Jack was his father.’

  ‘I see.’ He was silent a moment and then probed gently, ‘And now? Are things different now that the secret’s out? Well, out as far as me, that is, because I don’t plan to let it go any further. But surely Thorndyke has no hold over you now?’

  She shuddered. ‘I’m afraid he’ll tell Johnnie to try to turn him against me.’

  ‘But the boy’s too young. He couldn’t grasp the full meaning of it. Thorndyke wouldn’t stoop so low, surely?’

  Kitty shrugged helplessly. ‘I really don’t know what he might do. He’s like a stranger now. I feel as if I hardly know him any more.’

  ‘I suppose he could still demand the boy,’ Edward said slowly.

  ‘He could try,’ Kitty said, with a renewed surge of determination. ‘He did try, but I called his bluff . . .’ And she related the events that had followed Edward’s quarrel with Jack, but ended, with infinite sadness in her tone, ‘So you see, although I do – do love you, I can’t bring trouble on you. If he reports me to the authorities like he’s threatened . . .’

  In answer, Edward raised her hands to his lips and kissed each work-worn finger, slowly and deliberately. ‘Do you really think I care about that? Whatever happens, I’ll be there for you. We’ll face it together. Just marry me, Kitty. Marry me. Please?’

  Fifty-Five

  ‘Over my dead body! She’ll marry into that family over my dead body.’ John Clegg wagged his forefinger only inches from his wife’s face, while Kitty stood staring helplessly as the quarrel – the worst quarrel she had ever witnessed between her parents – vibrated through the house.

  ‘It was bad enough,’ he ranted on, ‘that she went to work for them. But you – you . . .’ he almost spat the word, ‘you wanted her there. I reckon you wanted her with him. Close to the master.’ He thrust his face near his wife’s and the bitterness of years was in every line, in the twist of his mouth and the flash of his eyes. ‘Did you want the same thing to happen to her, eh, as happened to you?’

  For a moment, Betsy wilted under his rage. ‘John, how can you say such a thing? How can you even think it?’

  He had the grace to look a little ashamed but, belligerently, he muttered, ‘Well, how am I to know what to think? I’d’ve thought you’d have wanted to cut loose from that family altogether, not keep clinging to them. Instead, you send your daughter – two of your daughters – to work for them. How am I supposed to know what to think?’ he repeated and then added, with one last shaft of malice, ‘Besides, there’s bad blood in them girls.’ He flung out his hand towards Kitty. ‘Your bad blood, bringing disgrace to our door. As if it weren’t bad enough what happened years ago, I have to go through it all again. And now Milly an’ all.’

  ‘Now just you look here, John Clegg.’ As his anger died away into maudlin self-pity, Betsy’s indignation flared.

  Kitty tried to interpose. ‘Mam, don’t. I didn’t want to cause trouble between you . . .’

  But Betsy flapped her away. ‘It’s not about you, Kitty, this. There’s things need to be said. Should’ve been said years ago.’ She faced her husband again. ‘You talk as if I’d
betrayed you, been unfaithful to you, but you courted me and married me after all that business.’

  John Clegg glanced uncomfortably at Kitty, but Betsy had an answer ready. ‘Oh aye, I’ve told her all about it. She knows. Your attitude over her bit of trouble wasn’t that of a loving father, was it now? I had to make her see it wasn’t all her fault.’

  Kitty swallowed, feeling fresh guilt sweep over her. ‘Mam . . .’ But Betsy was in full flow now.

  ‘Just answer me one thing, John. Did you ever love me? Did you marry me because you were genuinely fond of me or . . .?’ Now it was her turn to lean towards him and say, ‘Or did you think you could worm your way into the Franklins’ good books by removing an “embarrassment” for them, eh? Maybe,’ she went on, slowly and with calculated deliberation, ‘maybe you even thought that Henry Franklin would be so grateful to you that he’d set you up for life in a nice little job and slip you a few extra quid now and then, eh? Well, maybe he didn’t keep you on in the job you wanted, but I’ll tell you summat that you don’t know. He got you the job here, on the railway.’

  The man frowned. ‘How do you know that?’

  Quietly now, she said, ‘Because he told me.’

  ‘Well, I’ve no cause to be thankful for that. A job on the railway when all I wanted was to be with me ’osses.’

  Betsy sighed and shook her head. ‘But you’ve a position as stationmaster, some standing in the town, and just remember how fast you got that promotion.’

  He stared at her. ‘You telling me he was behind that an’ all? That it wasn’t on me own merit?’

  Betsy shrugged but said nothing and Kitty marvelled at her mother’s new-found strength. But no, it wasn’t newfound. It had always been there, and it was Kitty’s strength too.

  ‘You talk about my bad blood, John,’ Betsy was saying now, ‘but I know you and your devious little ways. I’ve seen ’em over the years.’ Now she prodded her forefinger towards him. ‘And it’s you our Milly takes after, if it’s anyone.’