A Crimson Dawn (17 page)

Soon afterwards, Helen arrived to help, as did the Curran women. Nell took up the role of hostess in the kitchen, presiding over the teapot and regaling visitors with the drama of the birth and the crucial part she had played in it all. By the time Tom returned, Nell was the heroine of the hour, and even Mrs Curran was giving her reluctant approval to Emmie's brash sister.

Tom was overjoyed with his new son, at first hardly daring to touch him for fear of harming him. Then, encouraged by Emmie, he boldly held him in his arms and paced back and forth, talking and whistling to him in delight. That night, Emmie fell into an exhausted sleep to the sound of Tom and Nell clinking cups of brandy and toasting young Barny. She woke in the night to a strange noise she could not locate, then realised it was the baby crying for milk. Tom hardly stirred as she reached across and put Barny to her breast, the way Mrs Haile had instructed.

At dawn, she was roused from a deep sleep by Tom shaking her awake.

‘You've let me sleep in, lass. I never heard the caller,' he said in annoyance. ‘Why didn't you wake me?'

Emmie blinked at him in confusion. ‘Sorry, Tom, but the baby kept me awake half the night…'

Tom peered over at the sleeping infant and smiled. ‘Divn't worry. You'll soon get used to it. Is he feedin' canny?'

Emmie nodded. The baby seemed to know exactly what to do.

‘It's grand having your sister around to help, isn't it?' Tom grinned. ‘Nell says she'll stop as long as you want.'

Emmie looked at him in dismay. ‘I thought she was ganin' to Newcastle to find work?'

Tom glanced away. ‘She will - once you're up and about.'

‘Tom,' she stopped him, ‘don't you think Nell should stop at the MacRaes' of a night? It's a bit awkward having her sleep in the kitchen.'

Tom shrugged. ‘Doesn't bother me. You sort it out if you want.'

But Nell was so reproachful at the suggestion, Emmie quickly backed down.

‘Haven't seen you for ages, then you want me out,' she chided. ‘Suppose you think you don't need me now the baby's here.'

‘Course I don't want you out,' Emmie said hastily. ‘Just thought you'd be more comfortable at Auntie Helen's with your own bed.'

***

Nell soon tired of helping with Barny, disgusted by the mess and smell of changing and washing nappies. So, while Emmie was confined to the house with the baby, Nell came and went as she pleased. She would leave in the morning to do any shopping and not return for hours. Emmie could not imagine how she filled in the time, but from Helen she heard how her sister paraded around the village in her green high-heeled shoes, chatting to anyone who had the time of day. Soon she was being invited into people's houses to drink tea and eat scones; she went to support Tom in a football friendly against Blackton and she sang for Mr Attwater at the chapel social. The chapel summer picnic came and Tom took Nell. Louise called round afterwards and told Emmie that Nell had larked around like a giddy foal and pushed Tom in the river.

‘Me da wasn't best pleased, but Tom's a married man now and he can't tell him what to do.' Louise was forthright. ‘I wouldn't let my husband carry on like that.'

Emmie blushed. ‘How can I stop him when I'm stuck in here?'

‘You should tell her to go.' Louise was blunt. ‘She's making a play for our Tom, that's what I think.'

But Emmie could not believe Nell would be so heartless.

‘She's just enjoying a bit attention - and not having to kip in a different place every night, that's all.'

Yet Emmie's doubts about her sister were growing. She yearned to take her baby out in the July sunshine, but until she was ‘churched' she could not leave the house. Left alone for long hours by Nell, sore from breast-feeding and short-tempered from lack of sleep, Emmie began to resent her sister's presence. Most of all, her anger was growing over Nell's monopolising of Tom.

In the evenings, he would rush in and pick up Barny for a few minutes. While he hardly spoke to Emmie, he was quick to agree to walk Nell round to someone's house, or go with her to the shops for something she had forgotten, or sit at the back door as the sun set, drinking tea laced with brandy. This was not how she had imagined their family life to be. Louise was right: whether Nell meant to or not, she was undermining her marriage.

The Sunday came when Emmie and the baby could come out of confinement and the Currans laid on a special meal after the long service. Still, Nell showed no sign of leaving. When Nell and Tom pushed Barny out in his pram one summer evening, leaving her to wash up the dishes, Emmie could take no more.

‘Don't you think it's time you paid a visit to Dr Flora?' Emmie suggested the next morning after Tom had gone to work.

‘There's plenty of time.' Nell was offhand.

‘Did you really steal money and jewellery from her?' Emmie blurted out in frustration.

‘Is that what she said?' Nell sniffed. ‘Well, I might have taken the odd fiver - but she had plenty to spare - owed it to me really - I worked hard for her.'

‘And the jewellery?'

‘I only took the worthless paste necklace and earrings - needed them to make me look respectable when I was looking for work. It wasn't asking much. I could have taken far more by rights.'

Emmie was amazed at her sister's lack of contrition. ‘And when are you ganin' to look for work now?' she demanded.

Nell's look was hard. ‘When I'm good and ready. I like it here; I'm in no hurry to leave.'

Emmie lost patience. ‘Well, we can't keep you for ever - not now there's the bairn to pay for - and you spend the housekeeping quicker than water. I want you to go, Nelly.'

Nell surveyed her. ‘You've turned into a right little nag. I wonder Tom puts up with it.' She picked up her green felt hat, arranged it neatly on her well-groomed hair. Emmie caught her by the arm.

‘You leave my Tom alone. He's a good lad, but he's easily taken in by fancy clothes and a posh accent. He might not see you're leadin' him on, but I do.'

Nell was dismissive. ‘Don't know what you're talking about. Tom just likes a bit of a laugh. You bore him, Emmie; he told me so.' With that she walked out.

Emmie stood there shaking with anger and disbelief. Had Tom said such a thing or was Nell being malicious? Why did her sister hate her so? She had the world at her feet, free to go where she pleased, yet never seemed satisfied. Nell was never going to change. She would always be resentful towards Emmie for some reason and desire whatever she had. Well, Tom would have to choose.

Emmie stormed back into the bedroom and got dressed. Wrapping Barny in his new shawl, she pulled on her coat over her too-tight skirt and blouse, bundled some spare clothes into the pram and went out. She would not stay a minute longer while her sister swanned around the village making a fool of her and her marriage.

Still weak from confinement, she was nearly finished by the walk to China Street. She arrived breathless and shaking at Helen's door. Her aunt took her in at once.

‘I'm stoppin' here till she gans,' Emmie declared. ‘If Tom wants me and the bairn then he'll have to come and ask.'

That evening, Tom came banging on the MacRaes' door, demanding to know if they were hiding his wife and son. Emmie confronted him.

‘Nobody's hidin'. It's a wonder you noticed me gone, Tom.'

‘Where's Barny?' he demanded, puce-faced.

‘Sleepin', so don't you gan waking him with all your shoutin'.'

‘What do you think you're playing at?' he hissed. ‘All the neighbours are talkin' - makin' a laughing stock of me.'

‘You're doing that yourself - carrying on with me sister.'

‘There's no carry-on and don't blame me,' he said angrily. ‘You're the one wanted her here in the first place.'

Jonas came to the door. ‘Come inside - I'll not have you shouting at Emmie on my doorstep, laddie.'

Tom glowered. ‘I'll speak to me wife how I want.' He grabbed Emmie's arm. ‘Haway, fetch the bairn, you're comin' home with me now.'

Emmie shook him off. ‘Not till you've told Nell to leave.'

Tom struggled with her. ‘You're me wife and you'll do as I say.'

Jonas stepped between them and shoved Tom off the step. ‘Away you go. She's told you what she wants. Look to your marriage, Tom, and tell that besom to go.'

Tom's look was livid, but Jonas was more than a match for him and Emmie knew he would not risk a fist fight in the street. He stalked away, glaring at the neighbours watching from their open doors. Emmie retreated inside, avoiding Helen's anxious look.

Peter gave her a puzzled frown. ‘Should I not call tomorra for me custard pie, Emmie?'

Emmie said gently, ‘Not this week, Peter. I'm sorry. But we'll be back to normal soon.' She glanced at the others. ‘Once Nell's gone, things'll be canny again.'

***

By the next day, word of Emmie's leaving Tom had spread around the village. Barnabas confronted his son outside the pit bank at the end of his shift.

‘What sort of husband are you?' he said angrily. ‘Running about with this common actress instead of looking after your wife and child. You're bringing disgrace on the name of Curran!'

‘It's Emmie's fault,' Tom snapped. ‘I just did it to please her.'

Barnabas's look was withering. ‘You're weak. You can't control your wife and you let her sister lead you a merry dance. Your duty is to provide for your family, not neglect them. What sort of father is that?'

Tom was stung. ‘How can I be a father when the MacRaes have kidnapped me son?'

Barnabas was blunt. ‘Fetch them home - or become the laughing stock of the village. And get rid of that Kelso woman. Your mother doesn't want to see you till you do.'

Tom marched home in a fury. Emmie and her sister had made a fool of him. He had done nothing wrong. He had indulged Emmie's wish to have her sister to stay and then been blamed when she had stayed on too long. To be humiliated in front of his workmates by his overbearing father was the final straw. It hurt him deeply to think that his mother had been turned against him too. Fuelled by anger, he screwed up his courage to confront Nell.

She was not there. She would be out at the shops, spending his money, he thought in irritation. There was no tea cooking on the stove, no hot water in the hanging pot. Tom looked around more closely. Nell's bags had gone from under the sofa, her hairbrush and eau-de-Cologne from the mantelpiece. Quickly he checked his secret store of money in the linen drawer. It was gone, all twelve pounds of it; money he was saving for Emmie and the baby. Stunned, he sat down on a stool.

There was a noise at the back door, a baby's grizzling. Tom sprang up. Emmie stepped into the kitchen, carrying Barny. They hesitated, eyeing each other.

‘How did you know she'd gone?' Tom demanded.

‘Louise came and told me,' Emmie said, rocking the fretful Barny. ‘Your sister told her to get out - the way you should've done, Tom.'

‘I was ganin' to,' he said hotly.

‘Louise gave her a bit money to find lodgings in Newcastle.'

‘Gave her money?' Tom cried. ‘She's run off with all our savings, the thieving bitch!'

Emmie gasped, ‘Oh, Tom -'

‘Don't blame me. If you'd stopped at home like you should, you could've kept an eye on her. I've been too soft on the pair of you.'

‘Well, she's gone now, so there's an end to it.' Emmie kept her temper. ‘I'll not let her come between us again.'

‘And what about my hard-earned money?' Tom demanded.

Emmie sighed. ‘We can save up again. All that matters to me is that we're back together - you, me and the bairn.' She looked at him squarely. ‘Is that what you want, Tom?'

He felt full of anger and resentment, yet as he looked at Emmie and Barny, he knew that all he ever wanted was them. Nell had flattered and made him feel important, desirable even. But she was dangerous, destructive. Suddenly he felt a wave of relief that Nell was gone, vanished like a bad dream.

‘Aye, that's what I want, an' all,' he admitted. He held out his arms.

Emmie rushed forward. Tom wrapped his arms around her and Barny.

‘Oh, Tom, I'm sorry about Nell and the money.'

He kissed her. ‘I'm sorry too - for givin' your sister too much attention and that. You know it's you I care for, no one else, don't you, lass?'

Emmie nodded.

‘Here, give me that bairn,' Tom said, taking Barny in his arms and jiggling him. The baby's whimpering grew louder.

‘He needs a feed,' Emmie said.

Tom smiled bashfully and handed him back. ‘I'll put the kettle on for a pot of tea, eh?'

Emmie smiled, encouraged. She knew it would be all right as soon as the meddling Nell was gone. As she fed Barny, she watched Tom brew the tea, then fry up some potatoes and onions for their meal.

She blurted out, ‘I love you, Tom Curran.'

He looked round in surprise and grinned with pleasure.

Later, as they lay in bed listening to the sounds of Barny's soft breathing, Tom said, ‘I didn't like the way you ran off to the MacRaes, Emmie. Why did you do that?'

‘They're me family,' Emmie said, feeling awkward. ‘I didn't know where else to turn.'

‘You should've turned to me.' Tom was adamant. ‘I'm your family now. I don't want other folks poking their nose in our business - not the MacRaes, not even me da. I'll not have him bawlin' at me in front of me marras again. Do you hear?'

Emmie was dismayed at Tom's bringing up the subject again, but she agreed. ‘Aye, Tom, if that's what you want.'

‘It is. I love you, lass, and I'll always tret you well. But I'm yer husband and you must do as I say from now on.'