The Loom Part 20

Emma took the money reluctantly. 'I'll have to put it somewhere safe until I can take it to the bank.' She looked around and then went over to the coal-scuttle. She placed the money in the bottom, under the coal.

'The envelope'll get a bit dirty, but they always say dirty, rotten money, don't they,' she said and laughed a little, her good humour returning.

'How is Darkie getting on, anyway?' Maud said, 'and Miss Marion as well, of course. It does seem odd them being married, doesn't it?'

'Aye, but I'm a bit more used to it now. They moved from New York, you know and went to live in California. To Los Angeles where all the film stars live. You know, Hollywood.'

'Never,' Maud said and looked duly impressed. 'Ee, Hollywood. You might just as well say the moon it seems so far away, and amongst all them film stars.'

'No, no, they're not with the film stars, Maud, so don't spread that around.'

'Well, Darkie should be with his looks,' Maud said staunchly.

'Ee, no, I can't imagine Darkie in the films, he's not the type. But they're doing all right. They bought a garage.'

'Did they! Oh, aye, Leah did say something about it the last time I saw her. She said they hadn't liked New York, it was that hot in summer and freezing in the winter.'

'Aye, I think they had a bit of a time of it at first, just reading between the lines you know. Marion was ill after the baby was born. I'm a grandmother now. Ee, it would be good to see them all.'

Maud sighed. 'Aye it would.' If there hadn't been that terrible war, she thought, she would have been a grandmother, too, by now. Her daughter, Maggie, had no children and it looked like there wouldn't be any either. Maggie and Tom liked a good time and Tom couldn't abide children from what Maggie had told her. She liked it at the Hall but it wasn't like having your own family around you. Emma saw her look, heard the sigh.

'I'm sorry, Maud, nattering on,' she said apologetically.

'No, no, I love hearing all about your family,' Maud said quickly. 'It makes up for not having one of me own.'

'Well, you know you're welcome here any time, Maud.' She felt sorry for Maud and wondered why she hadn't married again. From all accounts she'd had plenty of offers.

'Your Darkie and Marion have a little girl, now, haven't they?'

'Aye, she's called Elizabeth. I think they call her Betty for short. She is bonny. Wait a minute,' and she rummaged on the dresser amongst a pile of letters and took out an envelope. She drew sepia photo out of it. 'Here, this is little Betty. Isn't she a picture?'

Maud took the photo of the baby girl. 'Ee, she's lovely, Emma. She looks like Darkie. Look at all that dark curly hair. She is bonny.'

'Aye, she's got Marion's eyes, though. Bright blue they are, Darkie said in his last letter.' Emma looked sad for a moment. 'I wonder if I'll ever see them again, Maud. I'd love to see the baby. If only California wasn't such a long way off. It's even further away than New York.'

'Is it,' Maud said. Geography was not her strong point. She'd really no idea where America was for that matter, never having seen a map in her life.

'Aye, but they like it there and the garage business is booming.'

'That's good. I'm glad they're doing well and you never know they might come for a visit, or they might even come back to live. But whatever happened to Master Raymond? I've not heard much about what happened to him. I don't think they've had many letters from him at the Hall. Did he go to California as well?'

'No he didn't. From what Darkie says he didn't stay long in New York, either. Got the wandering bug and decided to go to Canada and the last I heard he was in Alaska or some such place.'

'Alaska,' Maud said in surprise. 'Where's that?'

'Ee, I don't rightly know, Maud. It's somewhere in America. Up north, I think and freezing cold. You'll have to ask Leah. She knows more about it than me. Anyway, Maud, I want to thank you for what you've done, before Leah gets back.'

'I'd nothing to do with it,' Maud said innocently.

Emma looked skeptical.

'You'll probably get more of the same,' Maud added as an afterthought.

'Never, I couldn't take it.'

'You wait and see. Now that Janey's not here and Leah not working yet you'll need more. By the way, talking about Janey, did she get off all right?'

'Aye,' Emma said, her face clouding. 'We went to Liverpool with her last week to see her off. I still feel uneasy about her going all that way on her own, but we met a nice family on the dock who were going to New York and they said they'd keep an eye on her. But then she's got to go all the way to California from there and me and Leah were looking on the map and it's hundreds and hundreds of miles.'

'Don't worry, Emma. Your Janey'll be all right. She's got a lot of common sense.'

Not long after the regular donations from the Hall they had another windfall, amazingly through Harold. He'd been walking home from the Wellington and got run over by a care. Could you believe it, Emma said when she heard. The one and only car in Harwood and he had to be in front of it! He left two terrace houses in Accrington, which he'd inherited from Agnes, to the three children, as well as a quite substantial sum of money.

They were really on easy street now, Leah thought as she walked over to the dress and took it off the hanger. I should be happy, she thought and really she had a lot to be thankful for. She was glad, too, that she and Paddy and the baby had a place of their own to live in. Her mother had wanted them to stay with her for a while, but Leah had been adamant. She knew her mother would be lonely at first, but they would only be living just off Glebe Street on the Square, 'not a spit and a stride' she'd said to Emma.

The inheritance had been a G.o.dsend, because it had enabled her to start up the dress shop she'd planned when Stephen was alive. The shop had stayed empty for months. Every time Leah walked pa.s.sed it she remembered all the plans she'd had for it.

One day, she stood staring into it, at the bare boards, well scuffed from years of feet tramping backwards and forwards. It had been a green grocer's shop before it closed (before that a butcher, from all accounts, but that had been quite a long time ago) and there were still a few shelves around the walls, a counter (shabby) and some kind of trolley. They would all have to go, of course, and everything redecorated because paint was peeling from the ceiling, but she could see the potential.

The doorway in the back wall led to another room and suddenly a man appeared, dressed in a butcher's ap.r.o.n and carrying a large knife in one hand and a long loin of lamb in the other. He was muttering to himself and looked in a bad mood. Then he was gone. Leah shook her head. The image had been so substantial, so real that she had seen the hairs hanging from his nostrils (not a pretty sight) and how his very black brows had beetled into a straight line across his forehead in his ill humour. It had shaken her a little. She wondered why she got these sudden fleeting, what could she call them? Sightings, dreams, visions! No one else seemed to get them.

So she had bought the shop and was doing well now and more importantly it had given her another interest, taking her mind off the temptation to dwell on the past. Annie Fitton and her mother took it in turns to look after Stephen when she was working. Her dresses were now selling well, thanks to Kathryn's help. Kathryn had turned out to be a born saleswoman with 'the gift of the gab' as she herself put it. Leah had hired a girl to do the basic sewing. Her finest work she displayed in the window, just one garment at a time, as she'd seen in the London shops. It seemed to have worked and she now had more orders than she could cope with; she would need more help soon.

When she finally succ.u.mbed to Paddy's ardent wooing (and sighing and cajoling and anything else he could think of), she decided that the two rooms above the shop could be turned into comfortable living quarters until Stephen was older. She furnished them tastefully without too much expense, because most of her money had gone into the business. She roamed the second hand shops in Accrington and Blackburn for furniture, and found some beautiful pieces. A comfortable chintz sofa and two matching chairs, a drop-side polished walnut table and two chairs to match; for the bedroom a bra.s.s bed, which she polished until she could see her face in it, a good solid wardrobe and dressing table and a chest of drawers.

Paddy painted the shop and the two rooms upstairs in a pale cream colour. Upstairs she had pale green carpet and beige curtains, but it was the downstairs into which she'd poured all her creative energy. She'd paid more for the carpet (a dusky blue), and bought two antique chairs upholstered in pale blue velvet. There was a large vase of wax flowers in deep maroon with pale green foliage on an ornate antique table between the two chairs.

'How elegant,' Kathryn said when she saw it finally finished. 'You'll do well.'

Leah pulled the close fitting silk hat on her head. It was beaded with pearls, like the dress. She pulled a few wispy tendrils of hair onto her forehead. How pale she looked. She pinched her cheeks to give them a bit of colour and bit her lips so that they didn't look so much like a wax doll. I don't look like a happy bride, she thought as she stared into the mirror. Unbidden, her eyes filled with tears. Stop it, she told herself. Don't give way now. But the anguish was giving her a physical pain, something which tore at her insides, ripping open that delicate membrane she'd tried so hard to form over all that had happened. How could she ever love like that again? Not even if she lived to be a hundred! She wanted to howl his name but instead she banged the drawer shut, slipped on her cream shoes to match the dress, picked up the beaded cream bag on the bed and walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.

The real clincher in her decision to marry Paddy had been his devotion to the baby. He had doted on him ever since his birth and thoroughly spoilt him, buying him everything, from stuffed toys to cars. Leah finally put a stop to it.

'He'll become insufferable, Paddy,' she said when he arrived at her mother's, again with more presents, this time a set of small cars, quite expensive from the look of them.

'I want to,' Paddy said stubbornly.

'Well, I don't care what you want, Paddy, it's got to stop. He's not old enough to play with most of what you buy and we'll have to move out soon to fit all this stuff in, or I'll have to start a toy shop instead of a dress shop.'

Paddy laughed, and chucked the baby under his chin.

'All right, all right, I'll cut down a bit.'

As Leah walked into the living room and saw her mother dressed in her best grey suit and new hat, she had a decidedly sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

'All right, love?' Emma said. 'You look lovely.'

'Thanks, Mam.' Emma looked at Leah sharply. Ee, she wished she looked a bit happier and she was as pale as that plate on the sideboard over there.

There was a knock on the door.

'It's time,' Emma said.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

'You say the wedding's at two, Mrs. Walters?' Jessica queried, self-conscious when mentioning anything to do with Leah Hammond. She didn't often come into the kitchen and she looked out of place, as though she were on another planet.

'Aye, it's at St. Hubert's,' Maud replied, looking up from the pastry she was rolling. Don't tell me she's going to go? People will have something to talk about! Never a dull moment, although it had been very quiet at the Hall, especially since Mr. Townsend had been taken to that there place in Ches.h.i.+re. Maud would never give it its real name. All she knew was that the Hall had been like a morgue for the last two years and she didn't know how long she'd be able to stand it. What with Mrs. Townsend creeping around like a lost soul and her cooking having to drop to next to nothing, it was all getting a bit much was how she described her feelings to Alf Grimsby.

Jessica inclined her head at Maud's reply. 'Thank you Mrs. Walters and could you ask Grimsby to bring the car around at one thirty?'

Maud nodded. 'Aye, I'll do that. Half past one did you say?'

'Yes, thank you Mrs. Walters. Oh, by the way. You know what I require for the dinner, don't you? There'll be four of us.'

All that many, Maud thought sarcastically; ee, I'll be up all night getting ready for that, but she answered without rancour because it wasn't Mrs. Townsend's fault that she was dying to cook for a lot, like she used to.

'Aye, I've everything prepared. Bob Wilc.o.x is bringing up the odds and ends from Harwood this afternoon,' and Maud gave a friendly nod at Jessica. She'd really begun to like the mistress of late. She couldn't put her finger on it but the mistress, in spite of everything she'd been through, had come up trumps as far as Maud was concerned and just let anybody say any different and they'd be in for it!

When Jessica had gone Maud finished off the pie. She was on her own in the house today except for Grimsby. It was Jenny's day off and now that there was only Mrs. Townsend to cater for they'd dispensed with a lot of the staff. How glad she'd been when Gertie Wicklow had left, although her replacement, Beatrice Knowles, 'Beattie' or Batty Beattie as she sometimes thought of her wasn't much better: a sly 'un! Beattie also helped Miss Fenton with the sewing as well as the heavy cleaning, which it was obvious she didn't like at all, as Maud had discovered when she found dust an inch thick in the library. She had been looking for Mrs. Townsend at the time to discuss dinner arrangements and had been shocked at the state of the room.

'Looked like it hadn't seen a brush for two years,' she said to Alf in disgust.

Maud often wondered why Mrs. Townsend stayed in Harwood. Why didn't she go to London where there was a bit more life, instead of wandering around this great house, half the time twiddling her thumbs, or so it seemed to Maud. Or visit her brother in Germany, even? But no, she didn't seem inclined to do anything except mope around and visit Mr. Townsend once a week. He was another lost soul, only much worse.

Maud's thoughts were almost identical to Jessica's. When she left the kitchen she wandered up the stairs and into the big front room, which looked out over the front of Hyndburn. She watched the spray from the fountain as it arched into the air and then fell with a splash into the pond below. Why did she stay here? She had never really reconciled herself to living so far from London and the bright life she'd had before her marriage, and now there was really nothing to hold her here. Nothing, that is, except her memories and her guilt. That was what kept her here, the terrible feeling of culpability, that the disintegration of her family had all been her fault. So she had stayed on, visiting George in the sanatorium, returning completely devastated. She was tormented until her next visit by her husband's ravished face, blank, unseeing eyes, the flesh falling off his once solid bulk almost before her eyes. She remembered (how could she ever forget it?) that last week before they carted him off when he discovered the truth about Raymond. It had nearly driven her insane.

She sighed. She'd have to do something to get out of this terrible despondency. She'd thought of suicide more than once. She couldn't bear the quiet, the almost deathly stillness. The house echoed with it, empty rooms, empty beds, and empty places. Silence, where once there had been voices talking, laughing, even voices in anger would have been preferable to this terrible quiet, this feeling that life would never be the same for her again. And of course, it wouldn't, she thought with a sigh as she sat down at her desk to write to Paul. Perhaps she would visit Paul and his wife, Frieda after all. He'd been trying to persuade her to come for the last six months, but she'd procrastinated, putting him off with one weak excuse after another.

She picked up the pen and began to write. She would tell him of her impending visit, which, she wrote, should be within the next few months. Even as she penned the letter she was uneasy, not really happy in her mind about the visit. Paul had changed; she had read that much in his letters; as though a stranger wrote to her. All his news was of his wife, Frieda, of the man who had taken Germany by storm, of his own full political life in the new Germany. She sensed a harder Paul. She didn't know if she liked it, but she did miss him and in contrast to her life, his seemed full of excitement, of antic.i.p.ation. But, although she had misgivings she did want to see Paul. He was her brother, more than that, her twin, the other half of her. Yes, she definitely would go to Germany, and soon.

She had become so desperate for company she'd invited the Grentham's to dinner the following evening. Nothing formal and she was thankful that in spite of what had happened between John and Marion, the friends.h.i.+p was still intact. Granted, that immediately after the annulment, relations between the two families had cooled, a natural consequence Jessica thought, but now they were on good terms again and she was looking forward to their company tomorrow. She'd shunned people long enough. Life, after all, was for living and not burying oneself alive, which she had been doing lately.

The walk from Glebe Street to St. Hubert's Church wasn't far. A gentle breeze ruffled Leah's dress as she and Johnny Braithwaite, her hand through his arm (he was going to give her away) led the small entourage. Following behind was her mother, and Kathryn, her maid of honour. As they turned the corner onto St. Hubert's Road they were surprised to see a throng of people congregated at the bottom near the church.

'Look at all the people,' Leah said. 'I wonder what they're all doing here.'

Johnny laughed. 'What do you think, Leah, they've come to see you?'

'What on earth for,' Leah said in surprise.

'Well, you have got a bit of a name in this town. People are nosey and you should know that by now.'

'You mean they're waiting to see the scarlet woman in white?' She laughed a little, but was suddenly uneasy. This was the last thing she wanted: people staring. She knew they shouldn't have had the wedding in Harwood. She'd wanted to have it in Accrington, but Paddy's parents and her mother had been so against it that she'd hastily changed it to St. Hubert's.

Another bone of contention had been deciding on the church! All her family had been Protestants, none-practicing her mother always said with a laugh because they never went to church. Her mother didn't believe in all that bending your knees and singing hallelujahs.

'I live right, I do the right thing as best I can,' she would say, 'And I don't need to go to any church.'

Leah felt pretty much the same way and religion had never been an issue until it came to the wedding.

Mara and Shamus were shocked that Leah would even contemplate not being married in a Catholic Church. Leah knew how much their religion meant to them, so had fallen in with the plan of Catholic St. Hubert's. Unfortunately, she had not realized she would have to embrace Catholicism. By then it was too late to renege and she had to endure hours of instruction by the very unlikable Father O'Donnell. She'd drawn the line, she told Paddy later, when the priest began to discuss extremely intimate subjects.

'What's he know about all that, anyway,' she fumed at Paddy. 'He's supposed to be celibate so how can he tell you what to do? Anyway, you can tell him that I've had enough of it all and if he doesn't want to marry us we'll find someone who will.'

'He's only doing his job, Leah love,' Paddy said, trying to placate.

'He can do it with someone else then,' she said shortly. Did Paddy realize just how close she'd come then to cancelling the whole thing?

To Paddy's relief, Father O'Donnell agreed that the wedding should go ahead as scheduled, Leah promising that any children they had could be brought up Catholic, but she vowed never to set foot in a Catholic Church again.

When she saw the people waiting outside the church, which she now viewed almost with distaste, she broke out into a sweat and her insides fluttered like a bird's wing. What am I doing, she thought in panic?

'Don't worry, love, it'll soon be over.' Emma was worried. Leah was now a sickly white. 'There's nowt they can do.'

'No, only throw rotten eggs.' Leah gave a nervous laugh. They walked on in silence for a few minutes.

'Are you all right, Leah?' Kathryn said. 'I'm sure they won't throw anything at you on your wedding day.'

'I was only joking,' Leah said. 'I never said but you look lovely in that colour, Kathryn.'

She had made Kathryn's outfit of peach coloured silk and even her mother looked elegant in her new grey suit, which Leah still couldn't get used to because her mother always wore a long dark dress with a pinny on top. She couldn't ever remember seeing her mother without her pinny!

Johnny had decided on tie and tails. Leah thought the outfit a bit too much and although they'd all 'oohed' and 'ahed' when they saw him in all his regalia, she would have preferred just a dark suit. Thank goodness he hadn't insisted on a top hat. She would have had to do her Burlington Bertie routine.

The crowd in front of the church became silent as they approached. A few called out their good wishes. Thankfully nothing nasty was thrown. You just never knew with people and after what had happened in the last few years she wouldn't have been surprised at anything. She could hear the faint strains of organ music drifting through the door. Was this a dream? The church, the bridal party, the baby, (the baby had come into it from nowhere, or so it seemed). She'd wake up any minute now and find herself snug and secure in her little room at the hall and perhaps Miss Fenton coming in to tell her that it was time to get up...and Stephen would still be alive!

The sudden longing for things to be as they were was so painful she felt as though she'd swallowed a mouthful of gravel. She blinked rapidly, gripping Johnny's arm. He patted her hand and glanced concernedly at her pale face. The sadness seeped from her. She should be glowing with happiness on this day, he thought, suddenly angry. It was a shame that things had gone the way they had and he didn't think Paddy O'Shea half good enough for her, but he'd kept quiet about that, because he knew how Emma felt about Paddy. A G.o.dsend, she'd said to him, a G.o.dsend!

The congregation shuffled and talked quietly until the organist struck the first chord. A hush fell. Heads craned towards the door as the wedding march began.

Paddy stood straight and still at the altar. This is it, he thought and he turned to watch as Leah made her way on Johnny's arm towards him. He swallowed hard, saw her through a blur of tear-filled eyes as she approached and put out her hand to him.

Leah was vaguely aware of the people on either side as she walked slowly up the aisle. She thought, for one fleeting instant, that Mrs. Townsend was standing right at the back in a blue suit. She hung tightly onto Johnny's arm until she reached the altar. She was frightened. She was marrying a man she didn't love. A kind man, a man she'd known almost all her life, but she didn't love him. Not the way she'd loved Stephen. But the altar was suddenly there before her and Paddy was standing looking at her as though his heart would break.

When she saw that look she was all ready to blubber. She didn't because she was stopped in her tracks by a whiff of alcohol. She blinked and turned to Paddy, puzzled. He gave a brief sideways jerk with his head at Father O'Donnell. She stared at the priest in surprise. He's drunk, she thought. After all his sanctimonious sermons he was drunk performing the wedding ceremony! What a cheek!

She had known he drank. Everyone did, but most just laughed at his 'little drop'. He needed something to make life bearable, didn't he? This little drop was more like a bucketful from the smell. Paddy winked quickly at her as if to say, don't let it bother you. Well, she was bothered, all hot and bothered. Father O'Donnell was as drunk as a mop and she was so mad she'd like to mop the floor with him. He could hardly hold the prayer book his hands were shaking so much.

She should have expected something like this though, with her luck. She glared at the priest as he began mumbling intonations. He fumbled clumsily and the book dropped on the floor. Paddy bent and picked it up and then a second later the priest almost dropped it again and a loose page floated lazily to the ground. All eyes were fastened on this piece of paper, watching as it finally landed on the Paddy's foot.