Reach for Tomorrow (30 page)
His eyes opened wide now and he started walking again, his mouth thin and tight. How could she? How could she have preferred that cripple to him? And of all places he had had to install her in The Terrace.
‘All right, man?’
He was nearing Forcer Road now and about to enter a back lane which was a cut between two streets, and despite the late hour there were a few men, half a dozen or more, grouped at the top of it under the weak light of a flickering street lamp. They were all in the grim uniform of shapeless coats, caps and mufflers; some sitting on the pavement against a house wall, and others leaning against it, and the one who had spoken to him Shane thought he recognized as a lad who had been at school with him.
‘Aye, I’m all right.’ Shane stopped as he nodded abruptly. ‘Cyril Young, isn’t it?’
‘Aye.’ The voice was wry in answer. ‘Not that you’re young for long round these parts, man.’ There was a moment’s pause and then, ‘You back for good or passin’ through, Shane?’
Shane shrugged. He wasn’t about to divulge his private affairs to anyone. ‘Depends.’
‘Oh aye?’ Cyril stepped forward, coming fully under the pale golden glow, and in spite of himself Shane was shocked. The face he was looking at could have belonged to a man twice the age of himself. ‘Well, if I was you, man, with no wife an’ bairns, you wouldn’t see me for dust. The future’s in the south, there’s nowt here no more.’
‘Oh I dunno.’ An older man who looked seventy and was probably no more than fifty chipped in, his rheumy eyes a witness of years of working in black coal dust. ‘I’ve heard say we’re the backbone of the nation, lad. Or perhaps me ears are still ringin’ with the promises of ten year ago, when they needed the coal an’ the shipyards an’ all. Aye, we were the blue-eyed boys in them days right enough.’ It was bitter, very bitter, and Shane saw the old man’s trousers were held up with string and his boots needed cobbling.
‘Funny seein’ you back the same week as Davey Connor’s come home. You remember him, Shane?’
‘What?’ Shane turned to Cyril now, his eyes narrowing. ‘Davey’s back?’
‘Aye.’ And then Cyril’s eyes spoke for him as he added, ‘Not as well set up as you though, man. You’ve done right well for yourself by the look of you.’
‘I’m not complainin’.’ Shane remembered this lad as something of a joker, one of them bright sparks who was always ready with a quip and a laugh, but there was nothing of the vigorous youth he recalled in the tired, beaten man in front of him. He felt something stir in him, something he didn’t want to examine, and to assuage the feeling, and what he would term as weakness, he thrust his hand into his pocket and brought out a note as he said, ‘Here, man, have a drink on me to celebrate me return, eh?’
‘Aw, man. Ta, thanks.’
Shane didn’t look back as he walked down the lane, but by the time he had reached the end of the brick-walled tunnel and emerged into the dimly lit street beyond, his shoulders had straightened and he was saying to himself, If ever you needed an answer as to whether you’ve done the right thing you’ve had it tonight. By, it was every man for himself all right. There was no black and white, it was all shades of grey, and the sooner you learnt to play the game by your own rules the better chance you had of climbing out of the mire. And wasn’t that what Rosie had done? Aye, it was, and who could blame her? The little fellow was well heeled and he’d wanted her, and no doubt he’d used any sort of persuasion he could bring to bear to get her. He didn’t blame Rosie, no, it was that runt that stuck in his craw and he’d see his day with him. Oh aye, if it was the last thing he ever did. But this needed to be done right. He needed to take his time over this and make sure there were no mistakes, and then . . . He felt his loins tighten and a surge of excitement make him as hard as a rock. Then it’d be him and Rosie.
Chapter Fifteen
‘You mean to say Mrs McLinnie told you a few days ago that Shane was back and you didn’t tell me?’
It was the next morning and Rosie hadn’t gone into work, such was the condition of her feet, and now, as she padded to the stove, poking the fire into a blaze, lifting the kettle from the hob and setting it in the fire to bring it to the boil, she turned an exasperated face to her mother, who was sitting at the kitchen table. ‘Why on earth didn’t you say something before, Mam?’
‘Oh I don’t know.’ Jessie was uncomfortable. The truth of the matter was she had meant to, but in the furore of the newlyweds’ homecoming and then the performance with Flora and Davey it had slipped her mind, but she hadn’t been able to sleep the night before for worrying she hadn’t tipped Rosie the wink as Annie had expected her to.
First Davey and now Shane McLinnie. Rosie was frowning as she spooned tea from the caddy into her second-best teapot and then went to the range, lifting the kettle from its steel shelf above the fire as she shook her head at her mother’s offer to help. ‘I can manage, my feet are easier today, but I couldn’t get my shoes on with the swelling first thing, and as Joseph wasn’t expecting me in I thought I’d give them a chance to go down and go barefoot.’ ‘Oh aye, lass, aye. Joseph wouldn’t have you struggling. ’
Her mother’s voice had been warm, and Rosie mashed the tea, pulling the big bulky teacosy over the teapot and sitting down at the table before she said, ‘He’s nice, isn’t he, Joseph?’
‘Aye.’ Jessie looked straight at her as she said, ‘You know he’s asked me if I want that lass’s job?’
‘Mabel? Yes, I know.’
‘An’ you wouldn’t mind?’
‘Mind? Of course not, I think it’s an excellent idea. Hannah is old enough to look after herself for an hour or two when she comes home from school, and apart from the money it means you’re away from those four walls all day, and seeing people. No, I think it’s a very good idea, Mam.’
‘It’s just that . . .’ Jessie hesitated, and then as Rosie poured them two cups of tea she said in a little rush, ‘Your da wouldn’t have liked it, an’ I still think of your da, Rosie. But . . . but things are different now, aren’t they?’
Jessie was saying much more than the mere words that had been voiced, and it was in answer to the unspoken plea for understanding and approval that Rosie said, as she reached out and covered her mother’s hand with her own, ‘Quite different, Mam, and Da would have understood that, you know he would. He wouldn’t have wanted you to spend the rest of your life alone.’
Mother and daughter surveyed each other for a long moment and then Jessie relaxed, nodding slightly. ‘No, likely you’re right, lass. You always know what’s best.’ And then, as though it had occurred to her for the first time, ‘Where’s Zachariah, lass?’
‘He’s gone on his monthly visit to Gateshead, he couldn’t keep his normal appointment because we were on honeymoon so he’s gone today instead.’ Rosie’s voice was reserved, she knew her husband wouldn’t like her discussing his business affairs - or their affairs now, as he’d pointed out more than once since their marriage - with anyone, even her mother. But he enjoyed his sojourn at his solicitors and the bank, and the buying and selling that often transpired as a result of his visits. She had been amazed and not a little awed at the extent of Zachariah’s wealth when it was fully revealed, especially in view of how he was living when she had first met him. But she had since learnt that to him it was a thing apart from his normal day-to-day life. He bought shares and he sold them, he invested in this and that and thoroughly enjoyed keeping up-to-date with every little happening in the world, but the accumulation of riches was not the important thing to him - it was playing the game and winning. And in that he was tenacious, even ruthless. This side of her husband had surprised her and even disturbed her a little.
And now, as though the two things were connected in her mind, Rosie said, ‘So Mrs McLinnie doesn’t know if Shane is back for good?’
Jessie shook her head. ‘I haven’t seen her lately, with her bein’ bad an’ all, so likely it’ll all have panned out by now. I think she was hopin’ he’d be away again, with the lads laid off an’ all there’s no room to swing a cat in their house. Mind you it was worse years ago, when the bairns were small an’ her brother an’ his wife lived with ’em for a time. Made Annie bad in the end an’ her Arthur told ’em to clear out. They went to Australia, believe it or not. Funny how family outs, tain’t it, lass, ’cos her Shane is the spit image of her brother.’ Jessie took a loud slurp of tea before adding, ‘I might pop in on Annie on the way back, lass, an’ see how she’s doin’. She’s got a packet an’ a half at the moment with one thing an’ another, poor lass.’ ‘Jessie.’ Annie’s eyes widened with pleased surprise as she opened her back door in answer to Jessie’s rat-a-tat-tat of a moment before. ‘Come away in, lass, come away in. Aw, it’s nice to see you. This flu’s knocked me for six, I’m tellin’ you, I’ve bin feelin’ right middlin’. Haven’t got the strength of a kitten.’ ‘Aye, it’s nasty right enough. Here -’ as Jessie entered the kitchen its faint musty smell and general air of uncleanliness was all the more apparent after Rosie’s gleaming house - ‘few bits I thought you might be able to use with you not bein’ able to get to the shops.’
She placed two heavy shopping bags on the clutter of the kitchen table, and the gesture stopped Annie’s bustling, causing her to stare first at Jessie’s face and then the bulging bags. But it was when she began to empty the groceries on the table that her voice came, low and broken, saying, ‘Oh, lass, lass, I can’t take all this. There’s nigh on a week’s housekeepin’ here an’ that for my lot, not yours. It’s too much, lass.’
‘Go on with you.’ Jessie’s tone was brisk but when Annie didn’t respond she said, her voice gentle now, ‘You’d do the same for me, lass, now then, an’ have in the past when things have bin tight. An’ I’ve got a bit of news an’ all. I’m gettin’ a job.’
‘You!’ Annie raised startled eyes to her friend’s smiling face. ‘Never.’
‘Aye, aye, I am, at the Co-op. One of the lasses is leavin’ an’ Mr Green’s offered us the job.’
‘Lads alive! I’d have sooner expected the Pope to get wed than you takin’ a job.’ Annie’s face was the picture of amazement. And then, when Jessie’s face dropped and she said, her voice uncertain now, ‘You don’t think I could manage it?’ Annie’s voice was loud in reply. ‘What? With all them gormless gowks of bit lasses you see these days? You could do it standin’ on your head, Jessie Ferry - not that I’d recommend that of course, not unless you make sure your drawers are clean anyways.’
‘Oh, Annie.’ Jessie was shaking with laughter and when Annie joined her they were wiping their eyes by the time they’d finished. ‘Oh, I miss you bein’ next door, lass. I do that.’
‘Aye, me an’ all. Sit yerself down an’ I’ll make the tea, the kettle’s boilin’.’
It was as they were sipping Annie’s black brew that Jessie asked, her voice elaborately casual, ‘Your Shane made up his mind if he’s stayin’ yet, Annie?’
There was a second’s pause, and Annie was looking towards the fire glowing in the blackleaded range as she spoke. ‘Aye, he’s stayin’.’
‘For sure?’
‘Aye.’ Annie turned towards her friend but didn’t look at her as she said, ‘I think he’s got a woman, he’s stayed out a couple of nights since he’s bin back anyways, an’ the lucky blighter’s already pickin’ up regular shifts at the shipyard. There’s the rest of ’em bin queuin’ week after week an’ sent home regular as clockwork, an’ our Shane walks in after nigh on five years away an’ bob’s your uncle. Mind, our Patrick said years ago he reckoned Shane’d got somethin’ on the foreman, old Jones, an’ it looks like he was right.’
Jessie’s eyebrows rose in comment but she said nothing.
‘An’ he’s not short of a bob or two, I tell you, lass. He’s talkin’ about buyin’ a car, would you believe? Can you imagine, a car parked outside me front door? That’ll upset her across the road for a start, she won’t be able to keep up with that.’ Annie’s voice was jocular but there was bitterness beneath the laughter. Their Shane could brag about buying a car and flaunt his fine clothes in front of Arthur and the lads, but he hadn’t so much as slipped them the odd bob or two to buy some baccy, not even his old da. Granted he’d stumped up good as gold with his board and without her asking, but it wouldn’t have hurt him to see his da and the lads all right. And as always, when thoughts like this assailed her, they were followed with, He couldn’t suspect anything, could he? But he couldn’t, no one could. There were only two people that knew and one of them was across the other side of the world, thank God. Oh aye, thank God all right.
If ever there was a sick perverted swine of a man Walter had been it, and the only good thing that had come out of that night was that the end result of it had frightened him out of her life for good. But at what a cost . . .
And then the training of years stepped in, and Annie deliberately turned her mind from the guilt and self-abasement that had threatened to break her years ago, and which even now, in her low moments, surfaced in screaming nightmares and dark fits of depression.
It was just after three o’clock when Jessie rose to make her way home, and the sky outside Annie’s kitchen window was overcast and threatening rain. When Annie opened her back door the light was a muted, splintered grey with a strange hue reflected on the roofs of the houses, and she looked up into the sky as she said, ‘By, there’s goin’ to be a storm all right, Jessie, I can smell it. You’d best get yerself away home smartish, lass.’
Other books
From the Chrysalis by Karen E. Black
Imperial Assassin by Mark Robson
Odd Interlude by Dean Koontz
Before Beauty by Brittany Fichter
Fixed on You by Laurelin Paige
In the Lone and Level Sands by David Lovato
The People in the Trees by Hanya Yanagihara
Dark Promise by Julia Crane, Talia Jager
Carthage by Oates, Joyce Carol
The Newsy News Newsletter by Karen English