THE CINDER PATH (22 page)

house did the hurricane of her temper sweep through

the place, when she threatened to make a bonfire of

every stick in it.

Now she was gone, and he'd soon be gone and he

might never come back again. What then? The place

would go to Betty; he had made a will to that effect and it was about that he must talk to her. If anything

happened to him Victoria would likely put a

claim in, as was her right. But under the circumstances she might not. Anyway they could fight that out between them.

She brought him a meal on a tray and while he

ate they exchanged hardly a word. He did ask

how she was getting on with the men; and her answer was, all right, but she kept them in their place, for after

all they were Germans, weren't they, and she was a

woman alone here.

After he had finished his meal and she had poured him

out a second cup of tea she repeated those words

by saying, "Have you ever considered my situation now that I'm alone here among these prisoners?"

"You'll not be alone as long as

Arnold's there. Where is he, by the way? I thought

he would have popped over."

"It's his time off. Anyway he's gone into

the town. And what use would he be if any of them

attacked me? He can't straighten that back of

his."

"I don't think you need worry about that."

"Huh!"-she screwed her small tight

buttocks down into the couch-"I'm as attractive

as the next; true I'm not like a full blown

horse"-he took it that she was referring

to Victoria-"but when it comes down to the needs and seeds, looks won't bother men."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and

looked into the fire before saying heavily, "I

wasn't underrating your looks in any way, you know

that, but Heinrich is a gentleman, what he says

seems to go with the others. Moreover. ..."

"Moreover, nothing!" She spat the words at

him. "Will you never grow up, Charlie? He's a

gentleman!" She mimicked his voice. "So is the bull; he's the best of his breed but if he thinks

at all there's only one thing on his mind. And it's

the same with them, more so "cos they're frustrated."

"All right, all right, Betty." He

was shouting now. "You can have it your own way; Wetherby may come, that's if you get married, but the stipulation still stands that when I return you'll have to find a place of

your own. You won't have to do it emptyhanded, I can

assure you, you've worked hard here, no one harder, so

you're entitled to half the profits that are standing when I come back ... if I come back. If I

don't"-he shrugged his shoulders-"well, then you'll have it all your own way. I've already put that in

writing, and also the business of you drawing cheques on the bank while I'm away."

She stared at him for a moment, then bit on her

lip. "You'll come back," she said.

He rose from the chair and walked across the room

to the window and stood looking out for a moment before he spoke again. "At the present moment I don't much

care, the only thing I want is to be posted,

anywhere, Land's End, John o" Groats,

overseas." He swung round and looked down the

room towards her. "Ginger Slater is my

sergeant. He's been giving me merry hell$3

"Gingerff1 'allyes, Ginger$3

"Good God! How did he become a sergeant?"

"Because he's smart and he's got a head

on his shoulders and he's wily."

"But why should he want to take it out on you? I

knew he didn't like you very much, in

fact at times I thought . . . well-was She

turned away and put her hand on the mantelshelf and

looked down into the fire, and he came towards her

now, repeating, "Well what?" and she turned to him and ended, "Well, at times the way he used to speak to you and you stood it, well, I thought he had something on you."

"What could he have on me?" He stared down at her as she bent and lifted a log from the side of the

hearth and pressed it into the red glow of the fire, and she was dusting her hands as she said, "Oh well, it was just a thought."

"What was?"

"Well, that he had you where he wanted you 'cos you were over pally with Arthur."

"What! You mean. . . ?"

The look on his face told her how wrong she

had been, and she repeated, "Well, it was just a

thought."

"Just a thought. My God!"

He turned from her. She must have been thinking all

these years that he and Arthur . . . No

wonder she had treated him like muck. He had the

strong desire to tell her the truth, but common sense

prevailed for he knew she was her father's daughter

TCP 9

and nothing but vengeance would satisfy her.

"Well, what is he getting at you for?"

He turned and faced her. "He can't forget that

he was flogged on the cinder path."

Her face stretched in amazement. "You mean

he's borne that grudge all this time and now he's

holding it against you?"

"What else?"

"You must be mistaken. Father flogged all the

lads."

"He flogged this one too often."

"It's unbelievable, he must be crackers."

"No, he's not crackers, he's just got a long

memory."

She was nodding, about to speak again, when the sound of the front door bell clanged through the house and she

looked at him slightly surprised, saying, "The

front door, who can that be?"

He watched her hurry from the room; he heard

her go across the hall and open the door; he heard the

murmur of voices; and then she was coming

back into the room, followed by Florence Chapman.

He felt a slight flush creeping over his

face. It was almost two years since he had last

met his mother-in-law. He had got on well with

her. She had done her best to try and smooth

the situation that had arisen so soon after his marriage.

He went towards her holding out his hand and she

took it, saying, "Hello, Charlie."

"Hello, Florence." It had been her

suggestion that he call her by her Christian name.

"Come and sit down." He led her towards the fire.

"Will you have a drink?" Betty was addressing her now. "Tea? The kettle's boiling."

It was evident that Betty was ill at ease yet

at the same time curious why this woman who had never

set foot in the house since a week after her

daughter's wedding should be here now.

"I wouldn't mind a cup of tea, Betty,

thank you."

The request didn't urge Betty to run to the

kitchen, but looking directly at Florence she

asked, "Is anything wrong?"

Florence looked from her to Charlie, then back

to her, and she said slowly, "Hal's ill, very ill.

The doctor doesn't hold out much hope.

I... I was going to get word to Victoria and

Nellie, I was about to send one of the boys in this

afternoon, when Archie said he saw you." She turned to Charlie. "He

was up on the hill, and he guessed it was you, because as he said, he knew your walk." She smiled

weakly. "And so I thoughts if you wouldn't mind

telling them when you get back . . . that's if you're

going back tonight?"

He'd had no intention of going back tonight for where

would he stay? But he nodded his head now, saying,

"Yes, I was going back. I can go right away;

there's nothing to stop me. I'm sorry to hear about

Hal ... What is it?"

"His kidneys, and he's just been out of

hospital a month."

"Oh!"

He couldn't prevent a sardonical thought

crossing his mind. It didn't look as if his

father-in-law was going to live long enough to gain any benefit from their joined lands. It had been a bad

bargain all round.

She stared at him sadly for a moment, then turned

her gaze back to Betty, saying, "You need never

have anything on your conscience, Betty, for you

did your duty by your mother, and I think I can say that at times it mustn't have been easy for you, yet here I

am with two daughters, who had everything they ever

wanted, and what did they do? Under one pretext or

another they faded out of our

lives." She now looked at Charlie and, her

voice breaking and her eyes filling with tears, she

said, "We haven't seen either of them for six months.

In a way I could understand Victoria's attitude

but not Nellie's. I ... I don't know what's

come over that girl. I'm afraid for her,

Charlie."

"Oh, Nellie's all right, Florence. It's

a long way out here you know, and she's got a job, and

nobody's their own boss these days."

Florence now shook her head and sighed, while

Betty, having heard all she needed to know, got

up to go out and make the tea.

Florence looked at Charlie where he was sitting

opposite her, and she smiled at him as she said,

"You look well, Charlie, very fit."

"Well, they either make you or break you."

"Yes, I've . . . I've heard it's

pretty tough, especially for the-was She paused in

slight embarrassment, and he finished for her

on a laugh, "The conscripts? Yes, they make it

tough for the conscripts, Florence. But now my only

regret is I didn't join up before,"

"Really!"

"Yes, it's an eye-opener, you think you know people, men. But after all, our circle out here is very

small, isn't it, Florence?"

"Yes, I suppose so, Charlie. B. . . but

I'm surprised you're liking it."

"Ah, I wouldn't say I was liking it,

Florence, just let's say I'm learning from it."

Charlie watched her now look down towards her

gloved hands, thinking that it wasn't only the men who

were different out here, the women, too, seemed to belong to another generation. Florence's coat rested on the

toes of her buttoned boots, her felt hat was

set straight on the top of her grey hair. How

old was she? In her mid-forties yet somehow she

looked elderly. Back there in the town the women were

wearing skirts up to their calves; he'd actually

seen one marching along wearing a coat that came just below her knees. But these, of course, were exceptions.

Yet, as Johnny kept prophesying with his rough

wisdom, what Newcastle did the day, Shields,

Gateshead and likewise towns did the

morrow. Hang silk bloomers on the line and

there'd come a time when you wouldn't be able to buy a pair of woolly ones for love or money.

"How is Victoria?"

He now looked towards the fire before admitting,

"I... I haven't seen her for a while."

"How long is a while, Charlie?"

"Some months."

"Oh, Charlie!"

"It's no good saying Oh, Charlie, like that,

Florence, you know yourself it should never have happened, we're poles apart. I'm not blaming her, I

blame myself, I'm so blooming easily led it's a

wonder they don't shear me twice a year."

"Oh, Charlie!" Florence smiled sadly at

him. "You know what your trouble is, you're too

nice. And I'm as much to blame for this mess as

anyone. Hal wanted you to rnarry her. I needn't

go into that, you know why, and I wanted everything for Hal that he wanted for himself, but . . . but I also wanted you in the family. I thought somehow you would soften her, change her; I should have known that you can't change people, at least not people like Victoria." She gave a wry smile now. "She was christened after the old Queen and it's strange but she has a lot of her

traits, she'll have her way or die. . . .

Anyway, Charlie, go and tell them haw things are

with Hal, that he's very, very ill, and that they must come and see him. He'd not asked for them until last

night, and because of that I somehow deluded myself into thinking that

he wasn't as bad as he is, but I know now that his

time is running out. . . Look"-she got quickly

to her feet, her eyes full of tears"...I ... I

won't wait for the tea, I'd better be getting

back, he misses me."

"I'm sorry, Florence." He was holding her

hand tightly. "If there was only something I could do for you."

"You can do that for me, Charlie"-her voice was breaking-"go and see them both, tell them that they must come. If they don't they'll have it on their conscience for the rest of their lives."

They were already in the hall when Betty pushed open

the green-baized door and came through carrying a tea

tray, and she stopped and looked at Florence in

surprise and said, "You're not going?"

"Yes, yes, Betty, I... I feel I

must get back; Hal worries when I'm not there.

Goodbye." She didn't wait for Betty

to approach her but went out of the front door, and

Charlie followed. He helped her up into the trap,

then he stood aside while she turned the horse

around; and he remained standing on the drive until she disappeared from his view.

Betty was waiting for him in the hall and he said

flatly, "I'd better get a move on." He

til

lit

looked at his watch. "I can't hope to get

another lift, I'll have to get up to Knowesgate

Station and catch a train. I expect it'll be quicker

in the end. What time is it?"

As he spoke she turned and looked at the hall

clock. "Three o'clock."

"I'd better be off then, Betty." He