So Long At the Fair (29 page)

A few moments later Abbie followed him outside, pulling on her mittens as she went. In silence they walked for a while in the direction of the lane, then, coming to a stop, Arthur turned to her and said, ‘Abbie, I must ask you again – are you sure it’s your mother?’

‘Oh – Arthur . . .’

‘Perhaps – perhaps you’re just not ready for marriage. I’m aware that it’s all happened rather quickly between us . . . Or perhaps you’re just not ready for marriage to
me
.’

‘Please, don’t say that . . .’

He stood waiting, but she did not go on. ‘Anyway,’ he said sadly and not without a trace of bitterness, ‘I suppose it’s as well to get things sorted out now – rather than try to do it when it might be too late.’ He lifted a hand, as if to touch her, then let it fall back to his side. ‘Come on,’ he said wearily, ‘I’ll walk with you to your home.’

They did not speak again until they reached the entrance to School Lane. There he came to a halt. ‘I won’t come any further, if you don’t mind. You’ll be all right, won’t you?’

‘Yes, of course.’ She could hardly look at him.

‘I – Is your mind made up?’

‘Arthur – yes. Believe me, there’s nothing else I can do. Mother has to stay here – and I have to stay with her.’

He nodded. And he remained standing there, waiting, as if even now she might say something that would change everything – make everything as it had been. But she said nothing.

‘If you change your mind,’ he said into the silence, ‘you know my address.’

She nodded.

‘Well.’ He shrugged. ‘There’s nothing for me to stay here for, so I’ll leave for London first thing in the morning.’

She looked down at her mittened hands clenched before her.

‘Goodbye, Abbie,’ he said.

He hesitated a moment longer, as if giving her a last chance to say something that would hold him, stop him going, then turned and started away. In just moments his receding figure was swallowed up in the dark of the night.

She remained there for a few moments longer, then set off along the lane. When she got to the schoolhouse she came to a halt, her hand on the gate, hovering, undecided. She could not bear to go indoors just yet. After a moment she turned and set off back the way she had come.

A few minutes later she had arrived at her erstwhile home, the cottage in Green Lane. Violet answered her knock at the door and quickly urged her to come in out of the cold. Eddie was out, she said as Abbie entered the warm kitchen, adding, ‘Gone to the pub for his weekly pint. He hasn’t been long gone.’

As Abbie took off her coat she declined Violet’s offer of tea, saying that she had just had some. She moved to bend over the crib where the baby lay sleeping.

‘She’s beautiful, Violet,’ she whispered. ‘You must be so proud of her.’

‘Oh, ah! But she’s a little madam at times, I don’t mind saying. She’ve got Eddie’s spirit – which is the worse for ’er.’ Violet’s soft laughter belied the content of her words, though, and Abbie chuckled along with her. There was such a sense of normality and peace in the little cottage. It was a feeling that Abbie seemed to have been without for so long.

As Abbie sat down beside the fire Violet asked, ‘How is your mam? Is she all right?’

‘Yes – she’s fine, thank you.’

‘Is something wrong, Abbie?’ Violet was looking at her intently.

‘Wrong?’ Abbie shook her head. ‘No. No, nothing’s wrong.’

Violet nodded. Taking up her knitting, she asked Abbie how her school work was progressing and for a while they spoke of mundane affairs. Abbie appeared calm as she sat there, though she was aware that the calm was only on the surface. After an hour or so she got up from the chair, saying that she must get on home. She reached for her coat. ‘Mother will be wondering where I am.’

Having said goodnight to Violet she let herself out of the house. As she pulled the gate shut behind her she saw Eddie coming towards her.

‘’Ello, Abs,’ he said as he reached her side. ‘Been in to see Vi, ’ave you?’

‘Yes.’

‘You goin’ ’ome now?’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘I’ll walk a way with you if you like.’

‘I’ll be all right. You don’t need to trouble yourself.’

‘It’s no trouble.’

She set off and as he fell in step beside her he asked, ‘Well – how is she?’

‘She? Mother?’

‘Ah – Mother.’ It was clear that he found difficulty in saying the word.

‘Do you care?’

He did not answer. They skirted the green, moving in the direction of School Lane. After walking in silence for a while, Eddie said:

‘I saw your Mr Arthur Gilmore not long ago.’

Abbie said nothing. He turned, looking down at her profile. ‘Not to speak to, though. I just saw ’im in the distance – going into the ’Arp. Staying there, is ’e?’

‘Yes.’ Abbie quickened her step slightly.

‘What’s up, Abbie?’ Eddie said. With his words he reached out and took her arm, bringing her to a halt. ‘What is it? Summat’s up. Tell me.’

She just shook her head, unable to speak.

‘Abbie . . .’

She went to turn, to move away, but his hand tightened on her arm. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘tell us what’s up. Is it ’im – Arthur?’

She turned her head away.

‘What’ve he done? Tell me.’

‘He hasn’t done anything,’ Abbie said. ‘Don’t think anything like that.’

‘What is it, then?’

She took a breath. ‘It’s just – well, I’m not getting married now.’

‘What? Not gettin’ wed? Why not?’

‘I – I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘I just – can’t.’

He was silent for a moment, then he said: ‘Is it summat to do with our mam?’

‘Oh, Eddie –’ She loosed her arm from his grasp. ‘What does it matter anyway?’

‘It matters. Tell me.’

She sighed. ‘Yes – it is to do with Mother. I can’t leave her, can I?’

‘Well, can’t you take ’er with you?’

‘Not the way things are.’

‘And ’ow are things?’

After a moment’s hesitation she told him about her mother’s fall, of the doctor’s visit and what he had said.

‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ he said.

‘I didn’t think you’d want to know.’

‘Point taken.’ He gave a nod. ‘But you say she’ve been all right since then?’

‘Yes – but there’s no telling for how long. She could start again at any time. Don’t you see? I can’t take her with me – not with her being like that. Neither can I leave her to fend for herself.’

A little silence, then, ‘You – you makes me feel guilty,’ he said.

‘That’s not my wish. You must do what you have to do.’

‘Ah, I know, but . . .’ He shook his head. ‘You’ve ’ad it all to put up with.’

She shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’

‘Why d’you reckon she started to drink?’ he said.

‘I don’t know. Because she was unhappy, I suppose.’

‘Unhappy?’

‘Oh, Eddie – of course she was unhappy!’

‘But she ’ad everything. And she chose to give it all up.’

‘Well, you see her as having had everything. I don’t suppose that’s the way she saw it.’

‘Ah, she’s never been satisfied.’

‘I don’t suppose she has. But what can one do about that? People are different.’ She gazed at him in the dull light. ‘Eddie – why don’t you come and see her. You were always her favourite. It would mean so much to her.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘But Eddie –’

‘I vowed I wouldn’t. I’m sorry.’

‘You’re sorry,’ Abbie said. ‘Well, I can’t stand here. I’m getting cold.’ Turning, she stepped away from him. This time he made no move to hold her.

As she entered the kitchen a minute later her mother looked up expectantly. ‘Well, where is he?’ she said. ‘Where’s your Mr Gilmore?’

‘He’s gone back to the Harp,’ Abbie replied, not looking at her.

‘I thought you were bringing him back here. I was looking forward to meeting him.’

Abbie, taking off her coat, said nothing.

‘Shall I see him tomorrow?’ her mother said.

‘No – he’s leaving for London first thing in the morning.’

‘Leaving for London? But he only got here five minutes ago.’ Her mother clicked her tongue in disapproval. ‘Some way to conduct an engagement, I must say.’

‘There isn’t any engagement, Mother. Not any more.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just that. There’s not going to be any wedding.’

The following Wednesday a letter came from Arthur in which he expressed his great disappointment at the way things had turned out. Though he had not, it appeared, completely given up. Towards the end of his letter he wrote:

Abbie read Arthur’s words through many times. And each time her thoughts and emotions were warring inside her mind and her heart. Had she done the right thing? After all, she had been offered a life with a man who loved her, a life of comfort – and after so many years of insecurity, such an existence seemed a wonderful prospect. But then, yes, she would tell herself, she had done the right thing; in her particular circumstances she had done the only thing possible.

PART FOUR

Chapter Twenty

For the tenth time in twenty minutes Abbie leaned forward to look from the window, her breath clouding the cold pane. As the mist on the glass faded she saw the lane clearly again, bleak and chill, with traces of last week’s snowfall still clinging to the verges. In the kitchen, though, it was warm. She had seen to that.

‘For goodness’ sake,’ came her mother’s voice from behind her, ‘you won’t make them appear any faster by standing at the window all the time.’

Turning to her, Abbie chuckled and said, ‘I’m just so anxious for them to get here.’

It was close on noon, Sunday, 16 February, and Lizzie and Iris were coming to Flaxdown. With their mother having returned they had received permission from their employers to take the day off. Iris had written earlier in the week to say they would be arriving during the latter part of the morning. She had changed her place of employment the previous November and was now situated at Radstock. This morning she would travel from there to Lullington, where she would meet up with Lizzie, and from there the two sisters would make the journey to Flaxdown together. Their time of arrival would depend on what lifts they could beg and how much of their journeys would have to be made on foot.

Abbie, with a little help from her mother, had spent the morning cooking and cleaning. Now, with everything ready, she had changed into her second-best dress, over which she had put her apron. Mrs Morris too had put on her best clothes, recently bought for her by Abbie, and then sat patiently while Abbie dressed her hair. Now, as Abbie looked at her mother she could see the nervousness in her eyes. It was hardly to be wondered at; today she would be seeing her two youngest daughters for the first time in more than ten years.

If only, Abbie thought, Eddie would also come round – come and make it up with their mother. She had asked him to, using the occasion of their sisters’ visit as an added reason. He would not, though; he still refused to have anything to do with their mother. ‘Lizzie and Iris knows where I am if they wants to see me,’ he had said and that, Abbie realized, was the end of it for now.

She could not understand how Eddie could continue in such cold determination. He and their mother had seen one another on just two occasions since her return and then solely by chance. In the small place that was Flaxdown such meetings were unavoidable. Mrs Morris, sorrowful and bitter, had later told Abbie of the encounters. On each occasion, she said, Eddie had merely nodded in a stiff, ungiving manner and continued on his way. Abbie tried to convince herself that in time he would unbend, and come to his mother and give her the recognition she so wanted. Until that happened, however, they would just have to get on the best they could.

Still, she told herself, at least Lizzie and Iris were coming – and that must be a real comfort to their mother. She herself was nervous at the thought of the imminent reunion. She so wanted it to go well and for everyone to be happy. Certainly she had done all in her own power to ensure its success. But with her mother there was no telling what would happen; there was no knowing what her mood would be. Since her return she had become more and more difficult to get on with, and there had been numerous ups and downs in the little schoolhouse. Mrs Morris had grown increasingly querulous and quarrelsome and hard to please, so that at times Abbie had despaired that they could ever be happy together.

Today, though, all would be well, she told herself, her mother was in a good mood.

Turning back to the window, she looked again along the Jane, then gave a little squeal of joy. ‘They’re here! Oh, Mother, they’re here!’

Abbie served roast lamb for dinner, followed by rice pudding. She and her sisters ate well, and even their mother ate more than was her wont of late. Now, with the meal ending, Abbie looked happily across the table as her mother laughed aloud at Lizzie’s recounting of some amusing incident that had recently occurred at the house in Lullington where she was employed. Abbie’s own laughter was not so much at Lizzie’s anecdote, but from pleasure at the general atmosphere. Besides, it was so rarely that she heard her mother laugh, or saw any contentment in her face.

Abbie sighed. The reunion of her mother and sisters had been so much better than she could have dared hope for. At first there had been a restraint between them, but gradually it had died away and they had begun to relax in each other’s company. Abbie had known then that everything would be all right between them. She was happy – not only for her sisters, but equally for her mother. It was what she needed – to find herself accepted by her children, to be forgiven and to feel close to them again. They could be a family once more – and even Eddie would come round in time.