Northern Girl (31 page)

But then the roar of the crowd came back, and she was aware, again, of the monsters standing round her and jerking her chair upright again. They were laughing, a terrible, sinister sound. It was so loud it felt as if someone had suddenly turned up the volume on a
wireless somewhere. The noise, along with the blurred sight of Ginette and Nicole, in their bloodstained clothes, clinging to each other in anguish, was the last thing that she was aware of.

Nicole held a button tightly. She’d picked it up from the cobbles, where it had fallen from Madeleine’s dress. She looked over at Madeleine and saw she had collapsed. Her lips had gone so pale they looked blue.

‘Oh, Maman!’ she cried into her mother’s ear. ‘If this doesn’t make Madeleine lose the baby, then nothing will.’ And, unable to control her sobbing, she added in a whisper, ‘That’s if she’s still alive!’

Ginette clutched her sobbing daughter and looked around in disbelief. Surely the gendarmes weren’t pretending this wasn’t happening? There wasn’t a single one to be seen!

Tom and Dominic skidded into the square and were rendered speechless by what they saw.

At first it was difficult to take in exactly what was going on, and then Dominic nudged Tom’s arm and pointed. Tom immediately focused on the spot in the middle where a group of dishevelled people were trying to lift an overturned chair. There was an unconscious woman roped into it, her unsupported head flopping backwards at each jerking movement of the chair.

Tom sucked in a huge gasp of air and roared like a wild animal. The veins on his neck swelled. Anger making him fearless and invincible, he hurled himself at the crowd. The look on his face was so terrifying that
people scrambled out of his way. He shouldered through, knocking people down, punching them to the ground, kicking them aside. Even the group who’d been trying to lift Madeleine’s chair turned to flee at the sight of this lunatic, screaming a war cry and barrelling towards them.

Dominic followed close behind, and got there just as Tom crouched over Madeleine. She was on the ground, still tied to the chair, completely motionless. One of the onlookers tried to help pick up the chair, but Tom punched him on the jaw, sending him reeling back. He turned and faced the crowd, his hands curled into fists, his teeth bared.

‘Don’t touch her,’ he snarled. And even though he spoke in English, the rabble backed away, understanding completely what he meant. There was such fury on his face, and in his tensed muscles, that they flinched. He glared round at their faces and shook his fist at them, before turning back to the chair and lifting it with Dominic’s help.

‘She’s breathing,’ Tom said quietly, loosening the ropes.

Madeleine half-opened her eyes. She thought she could see Tom’s face leaning over her, and assumed she was hallucinating. She shut them again. Whatever happened to her now didn’t matter. Let them do it. They could cut off her hair … and then leave her to die …

Tom picked her up in his arms, and turned to get out of the square, his heart still thumping furiously, knowing he’d never forget this moment. As he began walking
through the dispersing crowd, Dominic by his side, he noticed two pitiful-looking women, bald and bleeding, clinging together and watching him intently. He gave them a curious glance and the younger one came up to him, her eyes dark against a dead-white face, and asked quietly, in English, ‘Are you Tom?’

‘Yes,’ he answered.

‘Then follow me,’ she said, her tone so reasonable that he complied. Behind him, Dominic put his arm tenderly around the older woman, overwhelmed by pity at her plight, and together they walked out of the square.

There was a tap, tap, tap, on the side of Madeleine’s face.

‘Maddie!’ another light tap. ‘Maddie!’

Madeleine’s eyes opened reluctantly – and there he was again! Tom! Tom’s smiling face, with its deep dimples! Why did he keep appearing like this? She closed her eyes again, and another voice spoke. Why wouldn’t they just let her sleep?

‘Madeleine! Madeleine!’ the voice said. It sounded so familiar, so dear.

She murmured disbelievingly, ‘Dominic? Is that you, Dominic?’

‘Yes, it’s me, little sister.’ Dominic held her cold hand in both of his.

She squinted up at him. ‘
Mon Dieu
,’ she squinted again. ‘It
is
you …! Oh, Dominic, I’ve had such a horrific nightmare!’

‘I know, I know,’ he consoled. ‘But you are here now and everything will be fine.’

‘And Tom was in it! Why would Tom be in it, Dominic?’ she whispered.

‘That’s because he is here … with me,’ Dominic replied carefully, unsure what her reaction would be.

‘What! He is here? Right here?’ She tried to lift her head.

‘Shh, shh, Madeleine. Stay calm,’ Dominic told her. ‘Yes, he is here.’ He turned to look at Tom and beckoned him forward.

‘Tom?’

‘Yes, it
is
me, Maddie,’ he said cautiously.

‘Oh,
mon Dieu
, Tom, why are you here? And where am I?’ she said, trying to look around her, totally forgetting that she needed to speak in English to Tom.

Tom put his hand tenderly on her brow. ‘Oh, Maddie, Maddie, I’m so sorry, pet. So sorry for everything!’

‘Where am I?’ she asked more lucidly, now that it was beginning to dawn on her that this might not be a dream after all.

‘You’re in Nicole’s home,’ Dominic said.

At this she raised herself from the divan. And, seized by sudden fear, she tried to call out, but her voice was nothing more than a croak. ‘Nicole! She is in danger!’

‘We arrived too late, Maddie,’ Tom said gently. ‘Nicole and her maman were already injured when we arrived at the market square. They sheared off their hair.’

As Dominic translated, it all came back to her: the
horror of seeing Nicole and Ginette in such a dreadful state. She lay back down again, and closed her eyes, whispering over and over, ‘
Non! Oh non!
’

Nicole rushed to her side. ‘Don’t fret, Madeleine! We’re OK. Look,’ she said, pointing to the scarf on her head. ‘Very chic, don’t you think?’ Then, seeing Ginette standing in the open kitchen doorway, Nicole beckoned her over. ‘See, we match!’ Nicole said lightly, pointing to her mother’s head. They both wore turquoise silk scarves, knotted at the back, turban style.

Ginette fidgeted nervously. Madeleine was shocked to see such a proud, confident woman looking so crushed. Ginette said haltingly, ‘It all happened because of me, Madeleine. I am so sorry, so very sorry.’

Madeleine took her hand. ‘It’s OK, Ginette,
I
know, and Nicole knows, that you never did any favours for those German bastards. And those idiots, those monsters out there …’ She pointed towards the door. ‘They haven’t any idea what special people you both are, and what you risked to avoid doing the very thing you were unjustly accused of. I hope they all rot in hell!’

‘Hey, calm down, little sister.’ Dominic sat next to her.

‘Nicole and Ginette must see a doctor!’ Madeleine wasn’t ready to quieten down just yet. ‘They must have their bruises attended to and—’

‘We have seen a doctor, Madeleine,’ Nicole interrupted, ‘and so have you, although you don’t remember it.’ Madeleine was about to answer when Nicole continued, ‘Anyway, we will talk about all that
later. Right now I think you need some time alone with Tom.’ She and Ginette retreated to the kitchen, with Dominic following close behind.

Tom sat on the edge of the divan and turned her head to face him, then said gently, ‘I know how hard things have been for you, Maddie. And I know I was bad. I was so mean to you. I should have written, and I didn’t. Can you forgive me?’

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

He went on, ‘I know you’ll likely say no, and I don’t blame you if you do, because I’ve no right to ask this … but …’ He paused, and swallowed.

Madeleine was looking at him closely, as if lip-reading. There was a tiny wrinkle of concentration on her forehead. He was pretty sure she’d understood everything he’d said so far. He spoke more slowly, just in case she hadn’t. ‘I love you so much, Maddie. So much. Could you … Would you think of … coming back with me? Back to England … as my wife?’

Maybe it was too soon to ask her this, because she seemed to have some difficulty in responding. But when she did, he was so astonished, so relieved that he felt his heart would burst.

‘Yes, Tom, I will.’

‘Aw, lass.’ His arms were around her now. ‘We’ll make it work. I think I’ve learned my lesson.’ He bent forward and kissed her gently on the mouth. ‘We’ll be a family … a proper family! You’ll see.’

She placed her hand on her stomach, before asking, ‘The baby?’

‘Yes, we still have our baby,’ Tom smiled.

‘But will I fit? In England?’ she asked, suddenly afraid of what her answer had meant.

‘Don’t you worry about that, lass, I’ll be with you … all the way. I love you, and that’s all we need. All we’ll ever need.’

Evenwood, England

Thursday, 6 December 1945

‘’Eee’s done
what
!’ This wasn’t a question, but a statement. Jessie stood, hands on hips, aghast and disbelieving, in the middle of Hannah’s living room.

Before Hannah could answer, Jessie spat out her next words. ‘And just when did ’ee go, may I ask?’

‘A few days back.’ Hannah was deliberately being vague.

‘And didn’t anybody see fit ter let
me
know, like?’

‘It was all done in such a hurry, lass. There was no time.’ Hannah bent the truth a little, to save Jessie’s feelings.

Jessie paced around, saying nothing for a moment.

Hannah added, truthfully this time, ‘Ah haven’t been able ter believe it meself, yet!’

‘And
why
, might I ask, ’as ’ee gone ter France?’

‘Look, yer’ll ’ave ter talk ter ’im yerself when ’ee gets
back, lass. It’s not up ter me ter talk ter yer about it,’ Hannah said awkwardly.

‘It’s some lass, isn’t it.’

Again this wasn’t a question. Jessie stared at Hannah, until Hannah, ashamed, conceded, ‘Aye, it’s a lass.’

Jessie jumped up. ‘Well,
no
wonder ’ee’s been such an arse’ole with me, then!’

‘Now, now, Jessie. There’s no need fer that kind of language.’

‘Well, that’s nowt ter what ’ee’ll get from me when ’ee gets back!’ Jessie stood in front of the fire now, one hand resting on the mantelpiece, and when her laugh rang out Hannah visibly jumped. ‘’Eee’s got ’er pregnant!’ Jessie said, nodding her head in absolute certainty now, as she started to pace the floor again. ‘That’s it!’ she repeated. ‘’Ees got ’er pregnant.’

Hannah turned away, her lips pressed tightly together.

Jessie’s eyes widened. ‘Well, you sayin’ nowt says all!’ There was a distinct quiver in her voice now as she glared at Hannah’s back. And with still no answer from her, Jessie continued her tirade. ‘Well, if ’ee’s thinkin’ of fetchin’ ’er back here, yer can be sure ah’ll be around ter welcome ’er. There’s a thing or two she needs ter know before she gets ’er feet under the table.’

This obvious threat caused Hannah to grip tightly on to the front of her pinny as she answered. ‘Ah know me lad hasn’t behaved well towards yer, pet, but ah’m askin’ yer, please don’t cause any trouble when they get here, it’ll be difficult enough as it is.’

‘
Difficult!
Do yer have any idea just how
difficult
this whole
bloody
life is fer me?
Huh!
’ Jessie gave a bitter laugh. Then, with a jerk of her head, she rushed from the room, and out of the back door, leaving it wide open.

As Hannah walked over to close it she shivered, even though it wasn’t really cold outside, considering it was coming up to Christmas. I wish our Rene would hurry up and get herself home from work, she thought.

Jeannie, oblivious to what had been going on, came wandering down the stairs. ‘Gran, can yer sharpen me pencil for uz?’ she asked. She held the pencil up while absent-mindedly looking for something suitable to draw on. When there was no answer from Hannah, she walked round in front of her and peered up into her face, asking tentatively, ‘Are yer vexed with me, Gran?’

Hannah turned towards her and cleared the lump from her throat before answering softly, ‘No, ah’m not vexed with yer, pet.’ She patted Jeannie’s head affectionately.

‘Who are yer vexed with, then?’ Jeannie asked.

‘Oh pet, ah think ah’m vexed with everything at the moment. Ah still haven’t heard anything from our Tom, either.’

Jeannie took hold of her Gran’s hand, and said in the most consoling way she could muster, ‘Oh, he’ll be all right, Gran. Our Tom fought in t’ war and managed ter look after ’imself, didn’t he? Anyway, it’ll be Christmas soon, and he won’t want ter miss that now, will he?’

Hannah smiled to herself, realizing just how
grown-up and thoughtful her granddaughter was. She said, ‘Yes, pet, yer right. Everybody’ll be here by Christmas.’

‘Gran?’

‘Yes, pet?’

‘Yer know that lad what’s moved in down the road?’

‘The Mortimer lad?’

‘Yes, well, his name’s Eee-an.’

‘Yes, Ian Mortimer. What about him?’

‘Well, yer know ’ee talks posh, bein’ that ’ee comes from down South, and he’s goin’ ter be startin’ at the grammar school in Bishop?’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, yer know ’ow we’re movin’ ter Bishop?’

‘Ye-es.’

‘Well, ah’ve told ’im that he’ll be able ter come ter visit us, and come for ’is tea an’ all sometimes.’

‘Well, ah don’t know what yer mam’ll ’ave ter say about that, lass.’

‘Well, see, ’ee doesn’t know anybody here, and ah won’t know anybody in Bishop, so what ah thought was, that ’ee could learn
me
ter talk posh like ’im, and that’d keep me mam happy. And ah’ll learn ’im ter talk like me, and that’ll help ’im ter fit in better at ’ees new school, cause ’ee’s a bit posh fer round ’ere, like!’

Hannah started laughing hysterically.

‘Gran! Gran, what’s the matter?’ Jeannie yanked at the bottom of Hannah’s pinny and pushed it up to her hands. ‘Eee, wipe yer face, Gran. Why are yer cryin’?’

Hannah dabbed at her eyes with the crumpled hem of
her pinny. ‘Ay, pet! Yer better than any tonic, you are. Come on, let’s get tea ready fer when yer mam an’ yer grandda get home.’