Tangled Threads (39 page)

Craftily Eveleen said, ‘I would have said you were the head. You’re the oldest. What do they call it?’ She sought in her mind for the right word. ‘The matriarch of the
family.’ With a note of gentle pleading, she added, ‘Won’t you come, Gran? Please. She’s your great-granddaughter.’

The old woman’s face worked as she fought the inward battle, but years of obedience still remained strong. She shook her head. ‘No, I can’t. I’m sorry.’

From the tone of her voice, Eveleen believed her, but she returned to Andrew’s cottage disappointed.

A little later as they trooped out of the house and across the road to the chapel, Eveleen glanced back to see her grandmother standing at her kitchen window, her face almost pressed to the
glass. This time, however, there was no sign of her uncle skulking in the shadows watching his granddaughter being taken to her baptism.

Eveleen was amused to see that as they went to and from the chapel, Josh offered his arm to Mary, sat by her when they returned to Andrew’s cottage and fetched and
carried food from the table for her.

In the tiny kitchen, Win nudged Eveleen. ‘I reckon your mam’s found herself an admirer.’

Eveleen chuckled. ‘Well, his excuse at first was that he came to see the baby, but now I wonder.’ For once she was feeling relaxed, almost happy. The service had gone well, apart
from the moment when the minister doused the baby with water and Bridie set up a squealing that echoed out of the chapel and into the street. Everyone had laughed and assured a flustered Eveleen
that it was a good sign.

‘Driving out the Devil, she is.’

Now, back at the house and surrounded by such loving, caring people, Eveleen was able, if only for a few brief hours, to lay aside her worries and enjoy the moment.

If only this day could last for ever, she found herself wishing.

‘Why won’t you let my father see your mother?’

The feeling of contentment had been all too brief. The following day, Eveleen found Richard waiting for her during her dinner break.

‘I have asked her, and the idea upsets her.’

Richard’s gentle eyes flashed with an unusual fire. ‘I have my doubts that you’ve even told her.’

‘I am not in the habit of lying,’ Eveleen said loftily.

Richard’s left eyebrow arched. ‘Really?’ he drawled. ‘And you don’t call impersonating your brother and deceiving us all a form of lying?’

Eveleen felt the colour suffuse her face. ‘That was different. I was desperate.’

He leaned closer. ‘And my father’s desperate to see her again. He wants to help. He can’t bear to think he caused her such misery and yet he never even knew about
it.’

Now it was Eveleen’s turn to doubt. ‘Really?’ she echoed. ‘Do you honestly expect me to believe that he knew absolutely nothing about it at the time? Or did he
“conveniently” not know? Surely, he must have known he might have left her pregnant?’

Richard was really angry now. ‘I tell you he knew nothing. He was only nineteen, for God’s sake. At that age, you still believe everything your parents tell you. You believe they
know what’s best.’

‘Oh yes, they knew what was best for him all right. But they didn’t care what happened to a slut of a girl who was daft enough to believe the sweet nothings of a young feller out for
a bit of fun.’

Appalled, Richard stared at her. ‘You believe that? You really believe that she meant so little to him?’

‘You’re all the same. You so-called gentry.’ Her verbal attack was scathing. ‘You’ll take your fun wherever you can get it, but you’ll always marry your own
class.’

Now the conversation was more about the two of them than about his father and her mother.

‘And you think my interest in you is just as – shallow?’

‘What interest?’ she snapped.

He blinked and, for a moment, was disconcerted. ‘Well, I don’t visit the workroom to see the other women, I can assure you, or to check up on the supervisor. Miss Brownlow does a
good job.’

‘You haven’t been near the workroom for over two weeks.’

There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone as he said, ‘So you noticed?’ Eveleen felt her cheeks glow pink, but even she could not tell whether it was from embarrassment or anger. His
tone was gentler as he went on. ‘I’ve only kept away because of this business between your mother and my father. Don’t you know how difficult it’s been for me to stay away?
How hard it’s been not to see you?’

Eveleen echoed the words that her own mother had once used to her. ‘What could the likes of you possibly want with the likes of me?’

He shook his head wonderingly, but his gaze never left her face. ‘Eveleen Hardcastle, don’t you know I’m falling in love with you? That all I want is your happiness? That
I’d do anything to help you, to look after you. Yes, you and all your family. Even that reprobate of a brother of yours, wherever he is. If I could find him, I’d do my damnedest to
bring him back to face his responsibilities.’

His declaration, so unexpected, shook her, but her indignant anger was so high now that she did not stop to think what she was saying. ‘If you thought so much about me, you’d pay me
more so I can keep my promise to my mother.’

‘Promise? What promise?’

‘To take her back home. Back to Bernby. That’s the only place where she’s ever going to be happy again. She doesn’t want to be here, not with all the reminders of the
past. And she doesn’t like the city life. She wants to go home.’

As she turned and flung herself away from him, Richard stared after her thoughtfully.

‘He’s been. He’s been here to see me.’

By the time Eveleen arrived home late that evening, Mary was hysterical and Bridie was shrieking. Hurrying to the makeshift cradle – the bottom drawer from a chest of drawers – she
lifted the child out. The baby was soaking and red with anger.

Eveleen turned on her mother. ‘Have you fed her?’

‘I tell you Brinsley Stokes has been here.’ Mary was wringing her hands agitatedly. ‘This afternoon. How could you, Eveleen? I told you I was afraid to see him.’

Eveleen was enraged by the arrogance of the Stokes family. ‘How dare he?’ she muttered. For some reason she could not have explained herself her anger was directed not at the father
but at the son.

As she busied herself preparing a bottle for the screaming child, Eveleen said, ‘It’s not my fault, Mam.’

‘Of course it’s your fault. It’s all your fault. If you hadn’t been carrying on with young Dunsmore, your father would still be alive. And if you hadn’t brought us
here, none of this’ – she flung out her hand towards the innocent child – ‘would have happened either. And I’ve lost my Jimmy too. My baby boy. Oh you’ve got a
lot to answer for, Eveleen Hardcastle. I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes on Judgement Day.’

Harassed and worried, Eveleen snapped, ‘And I wouldn’t be in your shoes in the next few minutes if you don’t let me get this poor child fed and changed. Sit down, Mam, and for
goodness’ sake, just shut up!’

Mary sat down suddenly, so shocked she could only gasp, ‘Eveleen!’ As she recovered a little, she began to wail. ‘You’ve no respect for your mother. You don’t care
how I’ve suffered. How I’m still suffering. And seeing him today brought it all back. I can’t bear to stay here any longer. Eveleen,’ her plea was pitiful as she said, yet
again, ‘take me home. Please take me home.’

Eveleen never knew what made her wake up in the middle of the night with a start. There was no sound from the cradle nor could she hear her mother’s snoring from the room
directly above her. Eveleen turned on her side as sleep threatened to claim her once more. Then her eyes flew open again. Suddenly she realized what had disturbed her peaceful sleep.

The house was too quiet. There was no sound of the baby’s snuffling breathing or from Mary as she turned and murmured in her sleep or snored loudly, as she did when she lay on her back
with her mouth wide open.

In one swift movement Eveleen had thrown back the bedclothes and put her feet to the floor. The cradle was empty, the blankets that wrapped the child gone too.

On bare feet, Eveleen rushed upstairs to the top floor. Her mother’s bed was neatly made, looking as if it had not even been slept in that night.

Frantic now, Eveleen hurried down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen. The grate was cold, the room silent and empty.

Her mother and the child were nowhere in the house.

She went to the door and looked around the dark, wet yard. Rain was falling steadily and the night was black with not a glimmer of light from the moon or the stars.

‘They’ll be soaked through,’ she muttered. ‘Oh, Mam, how could you?’

Of course, she knew where they had gone. Seeing Brinsley Stokes again had brought back all her unhappy memories. His visit must have disturbed Mary’s mind so much that she had set off in
the night to go home, taking the child with her. In her confused state, Rebecca’s baby had become that other baby that she had lost. But Mary wasn’t going to lose this one. No one was
going to take this baby away from her.

‘Poor Mam,’ Eveleen murmured to herself as she dressed hurriedly, pulling on her warmest clothes. She was beside herself with anxiety, but she was no longer angry with her mother.
The poor woman needed help and pity, not censure.

Once more, Eveleen felt the weight of guilt. She had been impatient and sharp with Mary’s wailing last night when she should have been more understanding. She should have listened to her
mother and comforted her and reassured her that everything would be all right. Promised her yet again that, one day, they would go back home.

But Mary had not been able to wait for that. She had set off in the dark, in the cold and the wet, with the child in her arms, to walk back home to Bernby.

Eveleen’s banging on Win’s door threatened to wake the whole yard.

A sash window above her was pushed up and Fred stuck his head out. ‘Who is it?’ he asked quite calmly, and then, at his next words, Eveleen understood why someone knocking on his
door in the middle of the night was not an unusual occurrence for him. ‘Want the missis, do you? Which is it?’ he asked in a matter-of-fact manner. ‘Birth or a death?’

‘Fred, it’s me. It’s Eveleen.’

‘Eveleen?’ Now there was surprise in his tone. His head disappeared at once and she heard muffled voices. Only a minute later she heard the door being unlocked and opened.

‘Whatever’s wrong, mi duck?’ said Fred, barefooted, his thin legs like sticks beneath his nightshirt. ‘Is it the babby?’

‘Sort of.’ Breathless from running, Eveleen put her hand to her chest and leant against the wall. ‘It’s me mam. She’s gone.’

‘Eh?’ the man was startled. ‘What d’you mean? Died?’

‘No, no,’ Eveleen said swiftly, and pushed the dreadful thought aside that in this weather that eventuality was a strong possibility. And the child. Poor little Bridie out in the
cold, crying with hunger.

‘She’s gone out and taken the baby with her. I – I think she’s trying to walk home.’

‘Right,’ Fred said, and seemed to be thinking quickly. ‘Right. Come inside, lass, and sit down while me and Win get dressed. Then I’ll knock Joe up. He’ll lend us
his pony and trap again.’

‘In the middle of the night?’

‘’Course he will. He’s a good sort is Joe.’

The next half an hour was a flurry of activity. As they waited for Fred to return, Win asked, ‘What brought this on, d’you reckon?’

‘She – she’s always wanted to go back home. Back to Bernby.’

‘Oh I know that,’ Win nodded. ‘But why now? What happened to set her off in the middle of the night?’

Eveleen bit her lip. If these good people were going to help her they deserved to know the truth. The whole truth.

‘It was Brinsley Stokes.’

Win’s eyes widened. ‘Mr Stokes? How on earth—’

Haltingly at first and then in a rush, Eveleen told Win her mother’s pathetic story from the beginning right until the moment when Brinsley had found out who Mary Hardcastle really
was.

‘I never thought for a moment when I asked Mr Carpenter to help over my adopting Bridie that it would lead to all this. Mr Stokes came to the house yesterday to see her. When I got home
she was hysterical. The baby was screaming at the top of her voice. Mam hadn’t fed or changed her.’

‘Oh, mi duck, I am sorry. I should have been there, but our Elsie was poorly and—’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Eveleen said swiftly. ‘If it’s anybody’s, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have snapped at her last night. I should have understood
and . . .’ Tears spilled down her cheeks and she covered her face with her hands. ‘She’s right. It is all my fault.’

‘Of course, it isn’t,’ Win tried to reassure her, but her words brought no comfort to the wretched girl.

Fred returned with the disappointing news that Joe’s pony and trap was already out on hire for the next three days. ‘It’s out of town an’ all,’ Fred reported
dolefully. ‘No way of getting it back quickly.’

‘Who else has got a trap? Think, Fred,’ Win said.

‘I am, love. I am doing.’

Suddenly Eveleen sprang to her feet. Her tears dried as sudden hope spread through her. ‘Josh – I mean, Mr Carpenter. He had a pony and trap the day he came out to the christening.
He must have got that from somewhere.’

Fred’s yes lit up. ‘That’s right, lass.’

‘Do you know where he lives?’

Fred nodded. ‘Round the corner from the factory.’

Eveleen clutched his arm. ‘Oh please go and wake him up, Fred. He won’t mind. I know he won’t. I’ll come with you.’

They hurried through the wet streets while Win stayed behind to pack food and drink into a basket and gather together warm blankets. ‘Poor things’ll be frozen when you find
them,’ she said as they left.

Eveleen bit back the words, If we find them.

It seemed an age before Josh lumbered down the stairs to answer their urgent knocking.

‘What’s up?’ he asked before he had seen who was standing there. ‘Factory on fire, is it?’

‘Worse than that, Mr Carpenter,’ Fred said. ‘Eveleen’s mother’s gone off in the night.’

‘Mary? Whatever for?’