When Lillian moved out, Carrie set about establishing her workroom, letting folk know she was working from home. She and David had decided to deposit his compensation money from the pit straight into the bank to join the nest egg she had laboriously saved over long years; they would touch it only if absolutely necessary, something Carrie was determined would not happen.
She soon found she had accepted more work than one person could realistically cope with, especially since the person in question had discovered the baby she was expecting was in fact two. When she asked Miriam, Billy’s wife, if she would like to work a few hours a week for her, Miriam had jumped at the chance. And no one was more surprised than Carrie when her mother offered her services.
‘I’ve been taking in washing and such for years, lass, to make ends meet, as you well know,’ Joan said when she called round to see her daughter the morning after Carrie had spoken to Miriam. ‘And I tell you, I’ve had me fill of steaming rooms and damp clothes everywhere. There’s enough of them anyway with your da and the lads. The thought of coming to work for you would be like a tonic - that’s if you want me, of course.’
Carrie had wanted her and within days it was clear to the three women that this was an ideal set-up. Joan had a flair for the work, and although Miriam was merely adequate, she was eager to learn. And Carrie paid well.
David’s final operation took place eight weeks before the twins were born, which meant he was out of hospital and as mobile as he was ever going to be when Carrie brought Philip and Melanie home. During the weeks leading up to the birth, they had discussed their future. Carrie had put forward a variation of her earlier proposition. How about, she asked David, if they followed through on her suggestion to buy shop premises with a flat above, but along with the workroom and salesroom they designated another part of the building for David’s use? He could buy, mend and sell secondhand sewing machines, irons, crimping machines, small hand mangles, goffering irons and other equipment.
She had been both relieved and thrilled with his enthusiasm for the idea, and it had gone some way towards easing the ache in her heart that had been present since Matthew’s abrupt departure from the house. But in the dead of night, when David was asleep, she often cried scalding tears, lying awake for hours in spite of being exhausted. Three times she had called to see Matthew, swallowing her pride with some effort when it became clear Olive was gloating over the estrangement. The first time Matthew had spoken to her just long enough to tell her not to call again, and the next two times he had flatly refused to see her. She had written many letters but had heard nothing in return and had no way of knowing if he’d opened them. She feared he had ripped them up unread.
She knew he felt she had grievously wronged him in concealing the fact that Alec was his father, and had compounded this crime by trying to prevent anything but the most minimal contact with his ‘uncle’, but she couldn’t truthfully say she wouldn’t do exactly the same if she had her time over again. And he did not seem prepared even to try to understand how difficult it had all been for her. David told her over and over again that Matthew would come round in time, but as the weeks and then the months passed, she had become increasingly frightened. And then they had heard Alec was alive and coming home soon.
Alone with her thoughts, Carrie found she couldn’t concentrate on the task in hand - Miriam and Joan had long since gone for the night. She rose and moved restlessly to the window to look out into the twilight. She had lost Matthew to Alec. She rubbed her hand over her aching eyes. Since Matthew had gone, she had begun to feel such hatred for Alec it scared her.
When she looked up, her thoughts seemed to have imprinted themselves on the glass because Alec was staring back at her.
She shut her eyes, then opened them very slowly, and when only her dim reflection looked back at her she put a hand to her racing heart. A moment later the doorbell rang.
Carrie’s nails were digging into the palms of her hands as she left the front room and walked into the hall. Just before she opened the front door she lowered her head, saying to herself, you knew he would come to crow that it’s all worked out his way, but don’t let him see how much you’re hurt. Don’t give him that satisfaction. Be cool and remote.
She opened the door.
‘Hello, Carrie.’
When she had imagined this meeting - and she had imagined it many times since they had received word via Mrs Browell that Alec had survived the war - Carrie had never dreamed she’d be lost for words. She had changed her hypothetical response many times as she tried to predict what Alec might say, but she had never considered she would be incapable of speech.
She had thought it was the thick window glass which had changed his face a little but she saw now he really was as thin as he’d appeared a few seconds before. There were deep lines carved in his face which had not been there four years earlier, and his countenance had taken on a rugged quality. He was still as handsome as ever but in a different way, and he looked bigger, although terribly gaunt, and every day of his forty years.
‘May I come in?’
Still unable to talk, Carrie swallowed before standing aside and gesturing with her hand for Alec to come in.
In the hall he turned and waited for her to shut the door. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Alec’s heart was thumping so hard he wanted to put a hand to his chest but he restrained himself. How many times had he pictured her in his mind the last four years? Hundreds, thousands. He had hugged the image to him every day he had been in solitary confinement, unable to stand upright or move about in the container and wondering if each day would be his last. Carrie had stood for home, for everything wholesome and beautiful and good in a world gone mad. What would she say if he told her that? But of course he never could, he had forfeited the right to do so twenty years ago. She was David’s. He had lost the chance of true happiness, first through blind lust, and then because he had been too stupid to see her worth. He was a fool. He had always been a fool.
It was with some effort that Carrie said evenly, ‘David is in the kitchen if you would like to go through.’
‘Thank you.’
She expected him to walk ahead of her, but when he didn’t move she passed him. He was aware that she was careful that no part of her body came into contact with his.
When Carrie opened the kitchen door, David was awake and sitting up, probably woken by the doorbell, his stiff leg stretched out in front of him. Both babies were still fast asleep in his arms.
There was a moment when his eyes met hers, and then his gaze went to the man behind her. David stared at his brother and Alec stared back, his face impassive, but whatever reaction Alec was expecting, it clearly wasn’t the one that followed.
‘Hello, Alec,’ David said quietly. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’
‘I . . . I felt I needed to come.’ Alec was speaking in a formal manner and had made no move to step over the threshold into the kitchen.
Carrie had gone to stand behind David’s chair, one hand resting on her husband’s shoulder, the other gripping the hard back of the rocking chair. She felt slightly sick, mainly because this new Alec was an unknown quantity. David inclined his head, and he did not smile when he said, ‘You will have to excuse me not standing up but as you can see, my hands are full.’
Alec allowed his gaze to fall on the sleeping babies, and no one would have guessed from his expression that the sight of them pained him. ‘I heard about the twins. They’re bonny.’
‘Aye, they are.’ David paused, then said, ‘Come in, Alec. Carrie was just about to make a brew and what we’ve got to say to each other will be better over a cup of tea.’
Carrie turned away towards the range without speaking. She didn’t want Alec sitting in her kitchen drinking tea with them. But the sight of him had shocked her, his gauntness proclaiming its own story, so she put the kettle on the hob then turned and looked at the two men.
Alec pulled a chair from under the table and seated himself.
‘When did you get back?’ David asked.
‘Yesterday.’ Although the impassivity was back, Alec was twisting his hands which were hanging between his legs, and he must have become aware of this because he suddenly stopped and thrust them into his pockets.
Now David asked the same question Matthew had done. ‘Was it very bad?’
And Alec replied in much the same fashion as he had before. ‘It was no picnic.’
He had changed. How he had changed. In fact he didn’t seem like the same man. Carrie was feeling more and more disturbed as the seconds ticked on. The brashness, the swashbuckling cockiness, everything that had made him Alec seemed to have gone, and in its place was - what? Carrie found she couldn’t put a name to it.
Alec raised his eyes to Carrie’s white face. ‘I want to say at the outset that I asked Matthew to come with me tonight,’ he said flatly, ‘but he refused even though I made it clear I felt he should. I told him if anyone has been wronged in all of this, it certainly isn’t him, it’s you.’
Carrie did not contradict him. Part of her mind was saying, don’t trust him. He’s a master of manipulation. Look at how he wheedled his way in with David all those years ago just to get near to Matthew.
‘I would agree with that.’ David’s voice was still quiet. ‘And there’s something
I’d
like to say at the outset. If Carrie had told me the night of Walter’s wedding just who it was who had attacked her, I’d have killed you and been happy to take the consequences. And if it wasn’t for the war and what you’ve been through, I still might have done it. As it is, us fighting would only damage any reconciliation between Carrie and Matthew.’
Carrie noticed David did not include himself in the equation and it saddened her. To a certain extent, he had shared her pain and grief over Matthew’s leaving but there had also been an element of relief, though she knew he would never give voice to it. David and Matthew had never really got on. All excuses aside - and she had told herself plenty through the years - the relationship between her husband and his brother’s son was the same as the relationship between David and Alec. Chalk and cheese.
Her gaze moved from David to Alec. She spoke rapidly. ‘Have you told Matthew the circumstances which led to him being born, because he flatly refused to hear it from either of us when we tried.’
‘Aye, I have.’
She didn’t believe him and her face spoke for her.
Alec sighed, raking his hand through his hair which was now so grey. ‘Believe me, Carrie,’ he said very softly, ‘I have. He accepts I wronged you but . . .’
‘But what?’ she asked tightly when he paused.
‘He is more my son than yours.’ When she would have protested he raised his hand. ‘What I mean by that is he’s looking at all of this purely in terms of how it affects him, without considering anyone else. He’s selfish, like I was at his age. Like I was until the last few years, in fact. I just hope it doesn’t take a war to wake him up to the fact that the world doesn’t start and finish with him. That said . . .’ His eyes dropped from hers now. ‘I can’t pretend I’m sorry the truth is out at last. I knew he was mine, I felt it in my bones. He is my son and I need him.’
‘So do I.’
‘You have another son, a daughter too.’ The green eyes were looking straight into hers again and she saw they were moist, which took her aback. ‘Not to mention David. You could go on to have more bairns. As for me, Matthew is the only child I will ever have.’
‘How do you know that? You’re free now, and wealthy. You’ll meet someone--’
‘No, I will not.’
A long, steady breath escaped David, and Carrie turned to look at him.
‘What are your plans?’ he asked.
Why was he asking Alec what his plans were? She wanted her son back, couldn’t he see that? Didn’t he care? Couldn’t David, of all people, understand that she could go on to have ten, twenty, fifty bairns but she would still grieve for Matthew if they weren’t reconciled? But they must be, they must.
David was aware of Carrie’s stiffly held body and hurt eyes, but for the first time in his life he felt he really understood his brother. Alec loved her. It was there in his rigid control, in his eyes, in his voice, and this was Alec the man, not Alec the spoiled lad.
But Carrie was his. David glanced at her. He knew that now. And with the knowledge came pity for his brother.