Twisted Strands (44 page)

At the breakfast table she could not hide the glow of happiness on her face and she was hard pressed not to laugh aloud at Richard’s somewhat sheepish expression as he said,
‘It’s a good job Josh leaves early for work. I’m sure he’d guess.’

Eveleen giggled deliciously, like a young bride. ‘I don’t care if he does. Oh, darling Richard, we’re going to be all right.’ She held him close and he buried his face in
her neck.

‘Yes, yes. I really think we are.’

Even the letter that Smithers brought in on a silver tray moments later, could not cast a shadow over her new-found confidence.

‘It’s from Bridie.’

Already they knew about the situation Bridie and Andrew had found at Flawford. Eveleen had visited once, going alone, guiltily persuading Richard not to go. But the atmosphere between aunt and
niece had been strained and Eveleen had not been able to bring herself to go recently. She felt ashamed that she had not visited again and therefore eagerly scanned the letter for news.

‘Things are much better,’ she said. ‘Andrew’s opening up the workshops.’ She looked up briefly. ‘Do you know, I hadn’t realized the machines were idle,
but now I think about it, I didn’t hear any noise the day I went.’

‘Andrew will soon have things up and running again. He’ll find plenty of men coming back from the war who are only too glad of a job,’ Richard said.

‘Mm,’ Eveleen agreed and returned to reading the letter. ‘Gran’s asking to see my mother.’ Then she gave a little gasp of surprise. ‘Bridie wants to know if
we can arrange it.’

Richard shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not. Would you like me to take her? It’s high time I started driving again.’

‘No,’ Eveleen’s reply was swift – perhaps a little too swift, but Richard did not appear to notice. ‘No. I – we’ll – go out to the farm this
afternoon and see what they want to do. All right?’

‘Anything you say, darling.’

Eveleen felt the tears spring to her eyes, but they were tears of joy. His words were simple, but they spoke volumes to Eveleen. Her husband – her husband of old – was truly back
home with her.

‘Jimmy will take me. There’s no need for you to bother. Not that I really want to go, but I suppose I’ll have to. Maybe she’s dying and that’s why
she wants to see me.’

Eveleen was appalled at the callous tone in her mother’s voice. There had been a lot of bitterness in the past, but surely Mary did not still bear resentment against a frail, sick old lady
– her own mother. But Eveleen made no comment, merely asking, ‘How are you going to get there?’

Mary waved her hand airily. ‘Oh, Jimmy will borrow something.’

‘Josh can bring the car home on Saturday. He could take you on Sunday. I don’t think it would be a good idea for Jimmy to go.’

‘Why ever not?’ Mary snapped, defensive at once.

Eveleen sighed. ‘He’ll only cause trouble with Andrew if he goes.’

‘No, he won’t. And I want Jimmy to take me. I’ll only go if Jimmy takes me. So there.’

Sometimes, Eveleen thought crossly, her mother was like a petulant child. ‘Then Jimmy,’ she snapped back before she had stopped to think, ‘can find his own means of transport,
if that’s how you feel.’

‘It’s all right, darling,’ Richard said. ‘Josh can still bring the car and Jimmy can drive it.’ He turned towards Jimmy. ‘You can drive, I take it?’

‘’Course I can. Nothing to it.’

But Eveleen had the distinct feeling that his answer was based more on bravado than actual capability. She knew her brother of old.

Bridie read her aunt’s letter with trepidation.

I’m afraid your gran insists that Jimmy should bring her. It’s the only way she’ll agree to come.

‘You will keep out of his way, won’t you?’ Bridie begged Andrew. ‘Please. I don’t want any more trouble.’

Andrew’s mouth was a grim line. ‘I’ll not start anything. I’ll promise you that much, but if he starts something . . .’

Bridie sighed. It was the best she could hope for.

The following Sunday was bright and warm.
They’ll be coming in the morning. Your gran won’t want to risk being forced to attend chapel
, Eveleen had written.

Though Bridie still went and sat in the family pew next to her grandfather, just as she had done before, she could not persuade Andrew to attend the services.

‘I’ve lost me faith, Bridie,’ he told her. ‘After all that I’ve seen in the war, there is no God in heaven.’

‘Oh, Andrew, it wasn’t God who caused the war, but the greed of men. You can’t blame him.’

He’d looked away from her, ill at ease. ‘I know I shouldn’t, but he let it happen, didn’t he?’

For the moment there was nothing she could do or say. Andrew would have to find his way back in his own time. In the meantime, her knees became quite sore from praying for her beloved
Andrew.

Bridie fussed over the Sunday dinner, acutely nervous that everything should be just perfect. But it was not so much the preparation of the food that caused her concern, but the worry of the
trouble Jimmy’s mere presence might cause.

They arrived at half-past ten and came to the far-end cottage.

‘Where is she, then?’ Mary demanded curtly, with scarcely a greeting to Bridie.

‘In bed, Gran. She can’t get down the stairs now, though she sometimes can manage to sit in a chair by her bedroom window.’

Mary climbed the stairs, Bridie following her closely, torn between being with her great-grandmother during the visit and keeping an eye on Jimmy.

‘Here she is, Great-Gran.’ Bridie forced herself to say brightly as she opened the bedroom door and ushered Mary inside. ‘Here, Gran, sit in this chair by the bed.’

Mary sat down and stared at the old lady in the bed. ‘You’re looking well, Mother.’

‘Stuff and nonsense,’ the old lady retorted with asperity and Bridie hid her smile. Old and frail she might be physically, but Bridget Singleton was still quite capable of dealing
with a visit from her daughter.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she said, confident now of leaving them together. ‘I’ll call you when dinner is ready.’

Downstairs she went through to the front room to check on the joint, sizzling in the oven in the range.

The room was empty; Jimmy had disappeared.

Bridie ran out of the cottage and along the footpath, bursting into her grandfather’s cottage. ‘Is he here?’

She glanced round the room, but Harry was sitting alone in his usual place by the range. ‘Is who here?’ he grumbled and Bridie realized she had awoken him from a nap.

‘Oh, never mind.’ She turned and hurried out again. There was no-one in Andrew’s cottage either.

‘I’ll be in the workshop. I don’t reckon he’ll come up there,’ Andrew had told Bridie earlier. ‘Though your grandfather won’t like it if he knows
I’m working on the Sabbath.’

‘If it prevents trouble,’ Bridie had said, ‘I think the Good Lord will overlook it this once.’

Bridie ran down the path towards the workshops, tripping on an uneven brick in her haste. She climbed the stone steps and heard their voices in the workroom above her. She paused to listen.

Andrew’s was raised in anger. ‘How dare you say such a thing about her? It’s not true. None of it. I’ll smash your face in.’

Jimmy’s voice came nonchalant and tormenting. ‘If you don’t believe me, ask Eveleen. She’ll tell you.’

Oh no, Bridie groaned inwardly. Even after all these years, they’re still fighting over my poor mother.

‘Andrew! What a lovely surprise. What brings you to Nottingham?’ Eveleen cried, rising from the sofa and holding out her arms to greet him when Smithers showed him
into the morning room. Then she saw the expression on his face. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

At once, she feared the worst. Was it her grandmother? Had the old lady died? But Andrew’s expression was not one of kindly concern at being the bearer of sad tidings. It was anger that
Eveleen saw on his face.

‘Sit down. I’ll get Smithers to bring us tea—’

‘Don’t bother.’ His manner was curt. ‘This isn’t a social call, Eveleen, and when you’ve heard what I’ve got to say you’ll likely have me thrown
out.’

‘Thrown out?’ Eveleen gave a nervous laugh. ‘Whatever could you have to say that . . .?’ Her voice petered away and she sank back onto the sofa, feeling suddenly queasy
in the pit of her stomach. Andrew remained standing.

‘Your mother came to visit last week.’

‘Yes, I know about that.’

‘Jimmy brought her.’

‘Oh!’ Realization began to dawn. Once again Jimmy had tried to make trouble. She sighed.

‘I tried to keep out of his way. For Bridie’s sake. She asked me to. Now I know why,’ he muttered in a low voice more to himself than for Eveleen to hear. Louder, he went on.
‘But he found me. Sought me out in the workshop. He couldn’t wait to tell me.’

There was a pause and Eveleen prompted. ‘Tell you what?’

‘That your husband and my Bridie are having a love affair.’

The room seemed to spin around her and the sick feeling increased so that she almost wanted to rush to the bathroom. She covered her face with her hands.

‘Evie, I’m sorry.’ Andrew came to sit beside her and put his arm about her. ‘But I have to know. I have to know if it’s true or if it’s Jimmy up to his old
tricks.’

In a low, muffled voice, Eveleen said, ‘I haven’t any proof, but I had suspected it.’

‘You had?’ Andrew sounded startled, as if he had fully expected her to refute any such suggestion.

Eveleen dropped her hands and turned to face him. She could see the incredulity on his face. He had clung to the belief that it was all Jimmy’s lies and now the shock that it might
actually be true was plainly written on his face.

Her voice was flat with defeat as she explained. ‘Perhaps it started as long ago as the Goose Fair.’

‘She was only a child then.’

‘Yes, yes. Oh, I don’t mean that he would have – but he might have started to care for her then in a way . . .’ She took a deep breath. ‘In a way that was not
strictly uncle and niece.’

Andrew clenched his fist. ‘I’ll bloody well kill him.’

‘He was always very fond of her, but – but it got more – more noticeable when he came back from the war. He was in a dreadful state. Shell-shocked, they call it. Bridie was the
only one who could handle him. That was why he went to Fairfield House.’ There was a wealth of sadness in her tone as she added, ‘I couldn’t help him. In fact, if I’m
honest, I seemed to make matters worse.’

‘Is it still going on? Because I don’t see how they can have met up since we’ve been at Flawford. I’ve been with her all the time. Unless—’

‘Unless what?’

He shrugged. ‘Well, I’ve spent a lot of time in the workshops recently. I can’t say that I know what she’s been doing every minute of the day. When she’s gone out
shopping and that.’

Eveleen shook her head. ‘I don’t know for sure, but we’ve been together most of the time since he came home from Fairfield House.’ There was a catch in her voice as she
thought how close they had become once more. Was all that to be torn away from her again? ‘But he did suggest,’ she went on, her voice trembling, ‘that he should drive my mother
to Flawford.’ They stared at each other as she went on, ‘Perhaps – perhaps that was an excuse so that he could see her.’

‘Where is he? I want to see him.’

‘He’s – he’s out for a morning walk. He shouldn’t be long.’

‘Then I’ll wait,’ Andrew said grimly.

‘Where’s Andrew?’ Harry asked belligerently when Bridie took his dinner.

‘Gone to Nottingham.’

‘To the lace market?’ It seemed that Harry could bring himself to speak civilly to her if it was a matter of business.

‘He didn’t say.’

Bridie was worried about Andrew. He had been bad-tempered ever since Jimmy’s visit last week. Worse still, he had been offhand with her and several times she had found him watching her
with a strange expression on his face. She couldn’t think what the matter was, other than that he was beginning to believe Jimmy’s lies that he, Andrew, might be her natural father. But
he had always been so adamant that that was impossible. Surely that meant he had never made physical love to Rebecca.

She had tried to question him, but each time he turned away from her, tight-lipped and uncommunicative. In the end, she had given up trying to coax him to tell her what was obviously bothering
him.

‘He’ll be back,’ Bridie said, forcing herself to be cheerful. ‘Maybe he wants to surprise us with some good news about the workshops.’

Her grandfather gave a grunt as if he didn’t believe it. And, for once, Bridie had to agree with him.

They heard the front door open and close, heard Richard greeting Smithers as the manservant took his master’s coat and hat and heard the low murmur of their voices as he
was told he was wanted in the morning room. They heard his footsteps cross the hall and then Richard was in the room and coming towards Andrew, his hand outstretched in greeting.

Andrew had risen from his seat, but made no effort to shake Richard’s hand. Richard paused in puzzlement and glanced from Andrew to Eveleen and back again, realizing at once that something
was dreadfully amiss. ‘What is it? Is it bad news from Flawford?’ He moved towards Eveleen to put his arm about her, but she could not bear him to touch her and she moved away to stand
near the window, leaving Andrew to broach the subject that was uppermost in both their minds.

‘Eveleen?’ Richard said, but as she turned her back on him, he looked towards Andrew for an explanation.

Andrew was blunt. ‘Are you having an affair with Bridie?’

For a long moment Richard stared at him incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘An affair? With Bridie?’ Then he began to laugh.

From her place by the window, Eveleen turned her head to look at him, but Andrew, his fists clenched took a step nearer to him.

‘It’s no laughing matter—’

‘Oh, Andrew, Andrew . . .’ Richard was reaching out to put his hand on Andrew’s shoulder, but the latter knocked his arm away. Richard’s face sobered as he glanced from
one to the other. ‘My God! You actually think such a preposterous idea is true?’ He paused and now there was anger in his tone, yet it was tinged with sadness. ‘How could you even
think such a thing of me? Or of Bridie? Good God!’ He was shouting now, incensed at their lack of faith in him. ‘And you, Eveleen? How could you ever,
ever
think that about me?
She’s a child, for heaven’s sake!’