A Nurse's Duty (48 page)

‘Howay now! Give me the money or else …’

Nick stood up quickly at this, ready to jump off the trap into the street. He still didn’t know what was going on as he was just out of earshot but recognized the threat all right. As Polly moved
restlessly
with him, Karen glanced quickly over and waved to him to stay where he was.

‘No,’ she called, ‘I’m all right.’ She held out the money to Dave. ‘Here it is. Now go. I never want to see your face again.’

‘Don’t be like that.’ Dave’s grin reappeared. ‘Of course I’ll go. I said I would, didn’t I?’ He counted the notes carefully and stuffed them in his waistcoat pocket, his good humour restored.

‘Aren’t you going to wish me luck, Karen?’

She gave him a bleak stare, disdaining to answer. With a mocking laugh he touched his forehead and strode off down the street, whistling cheerfully.

Karen watched him disappearing around the corner to the station. Had they really seen the last of him? she wondered. She couldn’t stop the hope rising despite her distrust of him. Oh, if only he would go to Canada then things might turn out all right, she thought. Please let him go to Canada.

‘Karen.’

Nick had tied up the horse and walked over to her.

‘Howay, Karen, let’s gan yam.’

He took hold of her elbow hesitantly. He was deeply troubled and it showed by the twitching in his face and the way he had lapsed into his native dialect. Karen felt a stab of compunction. She had no right to involve him in this, she had not. She forced herself to smile at him.

‘Yes, Nick, we’ll go home.’

They climbed into the trap and turned Polly round to take the road back to Low Rigg Farm.

‘Who was it, missus?’ Nick asked suddenly as they pulled out on to the moorland road. He looked sideways at Karen, seeing the hesitation on her face as she prepared to answer him. ‘Eeh, you don’t have to tell me, it’s none of my business, like.’

‘Oh, Nick, it’s not that,’ she said helplessly. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth. ‘He’s someone I used to know.
I
owed him something.’ After a moment she added lamely, ‘He’s gone now, gone to Canada, we’ll see no more of him.’

Nick said nothing to this, simply stared at the road ahead. Karen watched his face. What did he really think? she wondered. Well, no matter, Dave had gone now and they would all just have to get on with living, trying to make up their position to what it was before he came. And that would take a lot of doing, she thought dismally. It meant Patrick working long hours on the roads. And she would have to use less eggs and butter for the family. She could sell them in Stanhope perhaps, to bring in extra cash.

They reached the farm and Karen climbed wearily down. Patrick came out of the stable, his eyes anxiously questioning. She shook her head.

‘There was no trouble. He’s gone now, Patrick.’

There was a little aching void in Karen, troubling her like a broken tooth. It grew larger as time went on and she couldn’t leave it alone but kept probing it with her mind.

It was Patrick. He was different somehow. Oh, he was civil enough and hard-working as ever. He rarely lost his temper as he had sometimes done before. He was soft-spoken most of the time, even when she herself spoke sharply. And she spoke sharply often these days, both to him and the children. He was good to them and they loved him though they seemed to love Nick almost as much. But there was often a remote look in his eyes, a look which set aside the closeness they used to enjoy, the two of them.

Karen found it difficult to bring up the subject of their coming together in the closeness of the double bed; she couldn’t discuss sex. She found it impossible, his remoteness inhibiting her. Not that he left her bed, apart from that night following the Stanhope Show, but more often than not he simply turned his back when she was aching for the comfort of his love-making. Not that sex was
gone
altogether from their lives. Patrick was a lusty man, or had been until September. But on the few occasions when they came together in bed nowadays he seemed driven to it. It was not as it had been, thought Karen. Here it was January and things had been this way since September.

It was 1925, she thought wearily as she broke the ice in the bucket of water in the scullery one morning. Her thoughts matched the cold white dawn, so cold her fingers had stuck to the iron handle on the back door, causing a slight freeze burn.

At least they had heard no more from Dave so maybe he really had gone to Canada, she thought as she sucked her finger. She filled the kettle and went into the kitchen where the newly kindled fire was blazing up the chimney.

Patrick had managed to get work on the road the council was building over the top of the moor, the snow was slight so far and the road-building went ahead as long as the weather allowed. It was hard labouring work and he needed a good breakfast before meeting the waggon which took him and the others to work.

Karen sucked her sore finger again pensively. Patrick and Nick came in to wash their hands before breakfast. The children were still in bed. Both of them had feverish colds and needed a little extra coddling.

‘Beauty calved all right, a strong white heifer.’ Patrick volunteered the information as he sat down to his porridge which would be followed by bacon and eggs. He had to have a good breakfast so as to last the day, even if Karen herself made do with porridge.

‘Thank God,’ she said, smiling at him. She poured tea for him and Nick. ‘Maybe I’ll have time to paint that sheep rack you made later on.’

They fell into silence as they ate breakfast. The warmth from the range was beginning to fill the room and what with the smell of the bacon there was an air of snug comfort to it, contrasting with the cold outside. Patrick glanced at the wall clock and with a
reluctant
sigh took a last drink of tea and put on his outdoor clothes. As he moved to the door Karen followed.

‘We’ll be all right now, Patrick?’ He noticed her hesitation as she looked up at him, and patted her arm.

‘Don’t worry so, Karen. Yes, we’ll be all right now.’

Waving to Nick, he went out. Nick coughed, scraping his chair back as he rose.

‘Well, missus,’ he asked, ‘shall I clean out the pigs and byre then?’ He knew he could do the work in whatever order he liked, he was steady and could be relied upon despite his disability, but he always deferred to Karen.

‘Right, Nick.’

Karen rose too. Time to check on Brian and Jennie. They were awake and peevish, Jennie sobbing as Karen went into the bedroom while Brian was looking flushed and defiant. The reason for the trouble could be seen clutched tightly to his chest. It was a precious story book he had received as a Christmas present.

Jennie held out her arms to Karen, her lower lip trembling.

‘He hit me! Brian smacked me,’ she wailed.

Karen took her in her arms. ‘Why did you do that, Brian?’ she asked over the head of her daughter.

‘She wrote on my book.’ Brian’s voice was accusing as he held out the book, sadly covered in scribble. He was an early reader, encouraged by his father. His most prized possessions were his books, he couldn’t get enough of them and he hated Jennie to touch them. Consequently, she always tried to get hold of one.

‘Still, you shouldn’t smack her, she’s smaller than you,’ Karen admonished. ‘And you, Jennie, shouldn’t write on Brian’s book.’ The guilty Jennie sobbed even louder, hiding her face in Karen’s pinafore.

‘Come on now, never mind, just don’t do it again. I’m sure we’ll be able to rub it off, Brian …’ Karen was interrupted by the sound of Nick shouting up the staircase.

‘Missus! Karen, come down a minute, will you?’

‘What is it, Nick?’ She tried to put Jennie down on the bed but the child clung to her tightly, renewing her sobs. ‘I can’t come down just yet,’ she called back and returned her attention to the little girl who was at last becoming quieter. Karen wiped her face with a large, soft handkerchief. Jennie’s nose was sore and inflamed and red with her cold.

‘It’s that man, missus. Asleep in the stable.’

Nick’s quiet voice was yet loud in her ears. He had come upstairs and was standing close behind her, startling her before she took in the import of his words.

‘Nick, you made me jump!’ Her arms tightened round Jennie convulsively. ‘What man? What man do you mean?’

Nick stood in the bedroom doorway, miserable and uncomfortable. He shifted from foot to stockinged foot for he had left his boots in the hall. ‘You know, Karen,
that
man.’

She stared at him in disbelief. It couldn’t be! He couldn’t mean Dave. Brian and Jennie were quiet too. All three stared at Nick. At last Karen moved, putting down the child and standing up, automatically pushing a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

‘Be good now, pets,’ she said mechanically to the children, ‘I won’t be long.’ She turned to Nick. ‘Stay in the house until I’m back, will you?’

He nodded mutely, his eyes unhappy as she walked down the stairs and out to the stable. She could see he was longing to go with her but he wouldn’t leave the children, not when she’d asked him not to.

Karen stood in the stable doorway staring at Dave. He was sitting on a pile of the dried brown bracken so laboriously sledded down from the fell by Patrick.

‘Aren’t you going to offer me some breakfast?’

He was looking up at her confidently, the bad penny which
always
turned up, she thought numbly. She didn’t hear what he said, her mind too busy coping with the realization of all her nightmares of the last few months.

The scene swayed before her. She put out a hand to the door post to steady herself. Dave stood up, brushing bits of bracken from his trousers and straightening his jacket.

‘Did you hear me, Karen?’ He had lost his mocking tone, his voice was sharp.

‘What?’ She was still staring, dazed.

‘I said, how about a spot of breakfast for a hungry man? Now I know you wouldn’t turn anyone away hungry, not even me.’ He walked indolently over to her.

‘What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Canada?’ At last Karen trusted herself to speak.

‘Well now, I’m not in Canada as you can see and at the moment I’m hungry, so will you get me something to eat when I ask you to?’ He smiled unpleasantly. ‘We’ll go into the house, eh? Bit nippy out here.’

She swayed as Dave brushed past her and strode into the house, heading for the kitchen fire where he stood with his back to the heat, his feet apart, his hands in his pockets. He sniffed appreciatively at the appetizing smell of ham and eggs still hanging in the room.

‘By, something smells good. I reckon I’ll have some of that.’

Karen had followed him in, her mind seething incoherently. To steady herself as much as anything she set to with the frying pan and cooked him ham and eggs. Dave sat down at the table and looked around appraisingly.

‘Nice and comfortable you are here, Karen,’ he remarked smugly, ignoring her lack of response.

Nick came downstairs and stood beside her as she worked. He kept his eyes on Dave, his face twitching, the stump of his right arm moving spasmodically.

‘Who’s this then?’ Dave stared back at him. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve got two fancy men?’ He laughed a taunting laugh, and Nick was goaded.

He stepped forward, growling in his throat, fist doubled up.

‘Nick!’

Karen put out a hand to him, holding him back. ‘It’s all right, Nick. Look, why don’t you get on with the yard work? Really, it’s all right.’

He looked at her doubtfully. ‘I’d better stay, missus,’ he said simply.

‘No, really, everything’s fine. Just get on with the work, there’s plenty to do and we want a private talk.’

Reluctantly, and with many glances behind him, Nick went out into the yard, but reappeared at the window at intervals, peering in anxiously.

Karen put the plate before Dave and sat down.

‘Righto, now tell me what it is this time,’ she said, her voice hard and flat.

Dave picked up his knife and fork and began eating. ‘Well, it’s like this, see.’ The words sounded thick through his full mouth. ‘I had a bit of bad luck. I was going to Canada, honest, but I reckoned I could save a bit of money by making my own way to Liverpool and then maybe sign on as a deck-hand on a ship. Leave enough money for a good start, see?’ He beamed across the table at Karen, obviously expecting her to appreciate what good thinking this was. She stared back at him uncompromisingly.

‘Yes?’ she prompted. He looked down at his plate, his smile disappearing.

‘Yes, well, to cut a long story short, I fell in with some travelling folk and ended up with nowt. “Well, Dave,” I said to myself, “Karen will help you out. You can be sure of Karen.”’ His grin reappeared wolfishly as he licked his lips and folded
his
arms confidently and leaned back in his chair.

‘I can’t,’ she said flatly. ‘We have nothing. You can see we have nothing.’

‘Come on now, I can’t see any such thing.’

Dave sat forward and leaned his arms on the table. His expression became ugly and his voice softer.

‘I can see that there is good food on the table and sheep in the fold. I can see your fancy man has a job. Don’t you tell me you have nothing because it’s a bloody lie! And I’m telling you now, I want some of it. Or else.’

‘Or else what? What can you do?’ Karen’s voice rose.

‘I can get you into plenty of bother, my lass. I could still make a bob or two if I told it to the papers. Then what would your holier than thou father have to say? And where would the Irish feller be and all? What would happen to your bastard bairns if you had to go to gaol?’ Dave stood up triumphant, pleased with the reaction he saw in Karen’s horrified face.

She was white and staring, fascinated as a rabbit by a stoat. She gripped the table with both hands until the knuckles gleamed white through red, chapped skin. She was bereft of speech, her mind a black, swirling mist. There was a sound behind her, a low, animal sound.

‘Call the loony off, Karen.’

Dave was looking over her shoulder. For a moment she sat still, frozen into position, before his voice penetrated her confusion. She turned slowly in her chair.