The Loom Part 12

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Darkie had taken her for a drive in the Rolls one day. She sat in the back, feeling like a Queen as he whisked her down the drive, turning to grin at her every now and then. He laughed aloud when she turned her nose up and said in a posh voice.

'Please carry on with your driving my good man and keep your eyes on the road.'

Yes, she was sorry he would be going to Ches.h.i.+re.

Another thought niggled her: jealousy! Sometimes Stephen came home with a beautiful girl on his arm. Well he would have girlfriends, she'd told herself sternly after she'd seen them go into the sitting room where Mrs. Townsend was waiting for them with the tea tray all set up with small cakes, sandwiches and a large fruit cake. Of course he'd have girlfriends because he was so good looking and they were probably all falling over themselves to get him. Wouldn't she if she could?

The last one had been extremely lovely, blond and blue eyed and groomed to perfection. Leah was crossing the hall with her sewing basket (looking like little Miss m.u.f.fet she thought crossly afterwards). They were talking animatedly and Stephen had given her a cursory nod and smile. The girl ignored her completely. She rushed into the library and had a crying fit, then wiped her eyes, pushed her chin up and told herself she was a complete idiot. She hadn't a hope with him and she'd better just forget him and look to someone like Paddy O'Shea, who was still mad about her.



It would have made things so much easier if she'd had the feelings for Paddy that she had for Stephen. If only her stomach wouldn't go into knots every time she saw Stephen. If only she could feel all swooney about Paddy, but there was no rhyme or reason to anything lately and she just wished she could get rid of her feelings for Stephen as easily as she'd bobbed hair tonight.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

The choices you made in life were crucial. They could make you or break you. Choices and decisions, Marion Grentham, nee Townsend, thought as she sat in the back seat of the Rolls and looked absently at Darkie's capped head in front of her.

With this profound insight she realized the enormity of choice, the 'what if' syndrome. What if she'd never met Neil and there'd been no drama and her parents had been amenable about university. Would she be sitting here now, married? She didn't think so. That 'if' word; such a small word, such a huge connotation. There was a slight frown on her face. She'd been sitting like this, without moving, right from Ches.h.i.+re, oblivious to the fact that it was a glorious spring day, the sun s.h.i.+ning from an unblemished sky and the countryside, once the grimy outskirts of the towns had been left behind, a verdant panorama of meadows and trees.

Darkie glanced through the rear vision mirror. She looks like death warmed up, he thought. She'd lost so much weight that her already small face was like that of a child under the cloche hat. The huge gray-blue eyes were clouded with misery.

He didn't know why he was worrying. It was nothing to do with him that she looked down in the dumps. He couldn't help it, though. I'm a b.l.o.o.d.y soft idiot, he thought. Sorry for the likes of her when she's got everything money can buy? I must be wrong in the b.l.o.o.d.y head.

In spite of this he couldn't help the way he felt, because she always looked miserable. To be honest he had never seen her any other way. He hadn't been with the Grenthams long and he wondered if she'd always been miserable. Perhaps she was just a miserable person. Some people were. Never happy no matter how much they had.

He wondered whether she'd been happy before her marriage. There was something strange about that. Not that he knew much about marriage because he'd lived most of his life with only one parent, but he just had this gut feeling that things weren't quite right with the Grenthams. They were too polite with each other. On the surface the household in Ches.h.i.+re seemed peaceful enough. There were no arguments; never a wrong word in fact, which Darkie thought abnormal. How many people could go without an argument now and then to clear the air? It was all darling this and darling that, which sometimes set his nerves on edge. He probably wouldn't have seen so much of this, but being Mr. Grenthams valet, he was inside the house quite a lot. Beneath all that politeness he sensed a smouldering unease.

He'd mentioned a bit of this to his Mam. As usual she'd told him that it was none of his business and that the 'cla.s.s' were different. He should worry about his own affairs and be glad he had such a cushy job.

It was a cushy job, too. He'd been amazed when Stephen Townsend had offered it to him.

'I don't know one end of a car from the other,' he said to Stephen.

'Nothing much to driving,' Stephen replied, taking out a cigarette and lighting up.

He'd called around at Glebe Street about a month after Darkie was demobbed. Emma had opened the door when she heard the knock and 'I nearly fell over' she said later. 'Gave me such a shock it did to see Captain Townsend on the step and I couldn't leave him there, could I, so I had to ask him in. He sat on that there chair that's ready for the dust-bin. I was that embarra.s.sed but it didn't seem to bother him. He just sat there and talked liked he was one of us and even had a sup of tea in one of our pint pots. Well, I didn't have anything else to put it in did I?'

Stephen had been right about it not taking him long to learn to drive. And here he was driving along on this beautiful day with not a care in the world. He liked this part of the job because he had learnt a bit about the mechanical side of cars as well. He still wasn't too sure about the valet part, though. In fact, he was more of an odd job man, from chauffeur, fixing the occasional faulty tap, or serving wine at dinner parties.

He'd felt like an idiot the first time he had to serve drinks: all dandied up in black suit and bow tie and white gloves. He'd coped quite well, though, in spite of feeling that he had ten thumbs in the gloves. Now he was a dab hand at it, but was quite sure he wouldn't like to make it a lifetime job. But it certainly beat working in the pit and here he was, driving Mrs. Grentham to visit her mother at Hyndburn Hall. He would take this chance to see his mother and had been told to take the whole of the afternoon off while Marion was at the Hall. No, he couldn't complain and it wasn't his fault that she looked as miserable as sin in the back.

Marion realized suddenly that Darkie Hammond was glancing through the mirror at her once too often. Why was he staring at her? Was her hat on crooked, had she a black mark on her nose? What? She noticed how his black hair curled over his cap at the back, uncommon now as most men had short back and side. She liked it! His good looks had come as a shock. When he smiled at her that first time she thought him most attractive with he the whitest teeth she'd ever seen. She flushed. She was married! What was she doing thinking like that?

'Are you going to see your mother, Darkie?' she said.

'Aye, Mrs. Grentham, I am that; looking forward to seeing her, too.'

He glanced quickly through the mirror. She looked a bit better. More colour in her cheeks.

'I haven't seen her for a while and it's her day off so she'll be pleased to see me I should think.'

'I'm sure she will,' Marion said.

They lapsed into silence again. Marion thought again about her marriage. Was it a marriage, she wondered? Her mother had not told her much at all about what being married entailed.

'It'll all come naturally, Marion darling,' she'd said vaguely when Marion put a few tentative questions.

Marion had never had any really close friends who she could confide in. No one it seemed, wanted to tell her what it was all about so she hadn't worried either and thought that everything would just fall into place.

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 Ches.h.i.+re 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 suns.h.i.+ne. She suddenly felt better and the antic.i.p.ation 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 gra.s.s 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 pa.s.senger 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 b.l.o.o.d.y Moses,' he shouted again as twigs and leaves from the hedge sc.r.a.ped 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 b.l.o.o.d.y accelerator, he thought in panic. He was sweating, an image flas.h.i.+ng 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 b.l.o.o.d.y Moses?'

Darkie looked surprised, 'aye, jumping b.l.o.o.d.y 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 mean 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, s.h.i.+vering. 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.

The Loom Part 12

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The Loom Part 12 summary

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