The Narrowboat Girl (36 page)

‘Meet me again, will yer?’ she said to him. ‘And bring Billy with yer.’

Tony nodded, his eyes very dark in his pale face.

‘You’d best get ’ome. You must be hungry.’

‘I could go and ’ave a look – over round ’is place,’ Tony said suddenly.

‘Well – if you can stand the sight of ’im.’ Maryann touched his arm, smiling. ‘T’ra, Tony. See yer soon.’

When she got back to Nance and Mick’s, Nance started up from the table as she walked in, trying to pretend she hadn’t been sitting crying, and quickly wiped her eyes.

‘Oh Nance – what’s wrong?’ Maryann wasn’t fooled for a moment. ‘I do wish you was happier, that I do.’

‘I’m awright—’ Nance hurried over to put the kettle on. ‘It’s just I wish Mick’d stay in a night or two sometimes. ’E never seems to be ’ere lately. But never mind, eh? How’s Joel?’

‘No better.’ Maryann sank down at the table. ‘’E just seemed the same as yesterday. Oh Nance – I wish there was something I could do.’

Thirty-Seven

Maryann spent the following days in an agony of waiting. Though she was pleased to have had such a good meeting with Tony, and enjoyed Nance’s company, her mind was never far from Joel. She was sick with worry. Her appetite had disappeared almost completely and she had trouble sleeping, thinking of him lying there as she saw him every day, hanging between life and death, not quite belonging to either. She often cried out her desperation in bed at night, trying to keep quiet so Nance and Mick wouldn’t hear her next door.

On the other hand, they often weren’t quiet themselves and Maryann realized her own presence was making things worse.

‘How much longer’ve we got
her
hanging about for?’ she heard Mick demanding one night.

Another time he made some comment about her living off them.

‘She ain’t ’ad a penny off of us,’ Nance snapped back at him. ‘So yer needn’t start on like that. Maryann’s got money of ’er own and she ain’t mean with it neither.’

But this only seemed to increase Mick’s resentment, and the added conflict she was causing between Nance and her husband made Maryann feel even more desperate. If only she could leave them in peace, but where else did she have to go?

On the third day after she had seen Tony she woke after a broken, wretched night and lay in bed, unable to sleep but too limp and tired to get out of bed. She heard the door bang as Mick went off to work, and closed her eyes. She always felt relieved knowing he was out of the house.

She was still dozing when there came more banging. Nance was downstairs and Maryann heard voices, then Nance calling up the stairs, ‘Maryann – someone to see yer!’

Bewildered, she hastily pulled her dress on and ran down without combing her hair, her mind full of irrational questions. Was it news about Joel? Had he passed away in the night? But no, of course not – no one came out to tell you. And it still felt very early.

Downstairs, she found a man with dark curly hair, looking enormous in the little room, his head almost touching the ceiling. He looked exhausted and was twisting his cap between his hands, obviously most uneasy to be in this strange place. It took her a moment to realize who he was.

‘Darius – you got my letter then!’ She felt so pleased to see him, as if he was a member of her own family. ‘How did you get ’ere?’

‘I come almost nonstop,’ he said. ‘After I ’eard from you. Bessie’s all in. Pulled into Birnigum as it was getting light. So—’ He stepped closer, urgently. ‘What about Joel – have I got ’ere in time?’

‘Oh Darius . . .’ Tears came so readily to her eyes at the moment. ‘You have if ’e’s the same as yesterday. I’ve been waiting and watching every day and ’e’s been lain there, not knowing what’s going on around him and his breathing’s that bad. Every day when I go I don’t know . . .’

‘Well ’ow about us go now – where is it? Is it far?’

Maryann managed a wan smile through her tears. ‘We ’ave to go in the afternoon – they won’t let us in now.’

‘’Ere—’ Nance gestured shyly at the table. ‘’Ave a seat, Mr Bartholomew, and I’ll make us some breakfast. I’ve even got some eggs today, thanks to Maryann.’ Maryann noticed that Nance seemed quite overwhelmed by his presence.

Darius sat down rather reluctantly, as he had been all primed to spring into action straight away. Maryann sat with him and they drank tea as Nancy cooked, quietly listening and turning often from the range to look curiously at Maryann and this great, rugged visitor.

‘So you came in the
Esther Jane
?’ Maryann quizzed him.

‘’Course. What else? You got to me just in time. They’d just finished ’er up at Tooley’s Yard and I was off to load up when your letter came.’

‘So, you ain’t sold ’er yet – to Mr Barlow?’

Darius shook his head slowly, swallowing a mouthful of tea. Maryann saw the muscles move in his thick neck. She waited for him to speak. The Bartholomews never hurried anything they wanted to say.

‘Not yet. I couldn’t sell ’er out from under the nose of my father without ’im being there. Nor Joel. Mr Barlow said ’e could wait.’

‘So . . . you didn’t come the whole way single-handed?’

‘No. There’s a nipper come up with me this time. The Higgins family loaned me young Ernie. I left ’im asleep—’ For the first time something like a smile came to Darius’s weathered face. Maryann saw Nance watching him, intrigued. ‘That’s a trip ’e won’t forget in a hurry!’

‘How’s old Mr Bartholomew?’ Maryann asked.

Darius shook his head. ‘Mending – slow though. Oh, ta – very good of you.’ He nodded appreciatively at Nance as she set before him a plate piled with bread and butter and
three
fried eggs. Maryann’s plate held one and Nance appeared to be having only bread. Maryann raised an eyebrow at her.

‘’E’s ’ad a long night,’ Nance said, blushing. ‘’E deserves a good feed.’

They ate in silence for a time. Darius seemed ravenous and emptied his plate quickly, wiping up every last drop of yolk with the bread. Nance’s knife and fork looked like toys in his big hands. She nibbled at her bread, seeming fascinated by Darius. Maryann also found her eyes drawn to his face as she ate. Having him here was wonderful to her, like having part of Joel. Though they looked different, there was something about the way they both moved and in the tone of their voices that was similar. She felt proud that he had appeared. But she was longing to ask him, keep on at him – you can’t really sell the
Esther Jane
? You’re not really going to? And her heart ached. She knew how much this would mean to Joel, how much he would struggle with every ounce of strength he had to stop it happening if he were able. But now perhaps Darius would be left alone for ever. Perhaps Joel would never . . .

Feeling tears welling in her eyes again she tore her thoughts away and looked up at Darius. He’d drunk his tea and his eyes were drooping, his whole body sagging with weariness.

‘You need a sleep,’ she told him. ‘Would it be awright if ’e went up on my bed for a bit, Nance?’

For a second Nance looked put out, and Maryann knew she was calculating what Mick would have to say about this. But Darius would be gone long before Mick appeared.

‘’Course ’e can.’ She smiled warmly. ‘You show ’im up there, Maryann.’

Darius was dead to the world all morning. Maryann helped Nance around the house, glad to have plenty to do to while away the morning. She scrubbed the front step and helped with a load of washing, mangling it and pegging it out in the hazy sunshine, a shaft of which penetrated into the yard round the back where they were working.

‘On the cut they hang the washing out along the boats,’ she told Nance, shaking out a dress of her own before she pegged it on the line. It smelled rather harshly of soap.

Nance looked up, bent over the mangle. ‘Do they? Fancy—’ She frowned. ‘I always thought them people on the cut were just a bunch of gypos. But that Darius seems a nice man.’

‘They ain’t gypos,’ Maryann said hotly. ‘And they ain’t
all
rough. They just live a bit different, that’s all.’

Nance looked doubtful. ‘
Very
different, going by what I’ve ’eard. Still – some of ’em are awright I s’pose.’

‘Yes.’ Maryann still sounded cross. ‘’Course they are. You want to see for yerself before you start canting on about things you don’t know.’

‘’Eh – there’s no need to bite my ’ead off—’ Nance began mangling again furiously. ‘Bet you’d’ve said the same if yer didn’t know.’

Maryann took Mick’s spare trousers as they rolled through the mangle. ‘S’pose so,’ she conceded. ‘Sorry, Nance.’

‘That’s awright. I know you’re on edge.’

After a few moments, without looking up from the mangle, Nance said, ‘’E’s got a wife, I s’pose?’

‘No.’ Maryann was stretching up to the line.

Nance looked over at her. ‘’E ain’t married? Your Joel ain’t married. I mean they’re getting on, the pair of ’em. What’s the matter with ’em?’

‘There’s nothing the matter with them!’ Maryann snapped again, irritated by the way Nance said it. ‘Joel ’ad a sweetheart when ’e was young and she married someone else by the end of the War. I don’t know about Darius – they’re working almost every hour of the day and it ain’t that easy to meet up with anyone on the cut. You just don’t know what it’s like, Nance.’

‘No. So yer keep saying. I’m just surprised a man with ’is looks ain’t wed by now, that’s all. ’E looks a bit of awright to me.’

‘Does ’e now?’ Maryann teased. ‘Well – you’d better watch yerself then. Old married woman like you.’

She didn’t fail to notice the blush that rushed through Nance’s cheeks.

They had to wake Darius after midday. He emerged from sleep utterly bewildered as he looked round, then seeing Maryann, he sat up in a panic.

‘Is it time – are we too late?’

‘No – yer awright. Nance’s done us a bit of dinner, and then we’ll go.’ She gave her hair a hasty going over with her treasured brush she had had that Christmas at Charnwood. ‘Don’t worry – we’ll be in good time.’

Don’t worry!
she thought later as she sat beside Darius on the tram along the Bristol Road. Well, there was a daft thing to say. The whole of her life was consumed with worry. She looked round at Darius. He didn’t look any too happy on the tram. It was quite full and she could sense how uneasy and out of place he felt.

Inside the hospital was even worse. He walked along the corridor beside her, tense and silent, looking about him. Maryann felt the usual sense of panic and dread engulf her as they approached the ward but she fought against it, determined not to show Darius how bad she was feeling.

At the door she forced herself to look along, her gaze racing to the spot where Joel had been lying all that week. For a moment she couldn’t take it in, could not make sense of anything, and then she saw properly as the room came into focus.

‘Oh—’ she gulped. ‘Oh, it’s awright, Darius – ’e’s still there! Come on.’ She found herself taking his arm, leading him down to Joel’s bed.

She had grown used to the sight of how Joel had become through illness and that his beard had gone, and she had not thought to warn Darius. The shock registered in his face. Plainly Joel looked a lot worse than when Darius had last seen him.

They went to the side of the bed and Maryann searched hungrily for any sign of change. Joel still lay with his eyes closed, his breathing shallow and laboured. Each time she saw him his body seemed more slight and the sight of him filled her with pain. He was disappearing. Slowly, inexorably, day by day, the man she loved was slipping away. Darius sat on the chair, cap in hand, staring at his brother in appalled silence.

Maryann kneeled down and took Joel’s hand, kissing it as she always did.

‘Joel? It’s me again – Maryann. And Darius – your brother – he’s here with me. He’s come all the way up from Banbury to see you – brought the
Esther Jane
out of Tooley’s Yard and she’s ’ere—’ On her own she often broke down talking to him, receiving as much reply as she would from a stone, but today she wanted to be strong for Darius’s sake. She looked round at him. ‘D’yer want to say anything to him?’

Darius leaned forward. ‘Joel. It’s Darius—’ He looked round the room distractedly, as if searching for the right words. ‘I ’ope you’re going to get better, Joel – on your feet soon, eh?’ He sat back, clearly at a loss, but his gaze never left Joel’s face.

‘D’you ’ear that, Joel? What Darius says? Please get better and come back to us. We all need yer – Darius and me and your dad and the
Esther Jane
. . . .’ More softly, she added, ‘And I love you, Joel – I do love you so much.’

It was then she felt it. Just for a second. She turned with a gasp to Darius. ‘He moved his hand! I felt it. ’E sort of squeezed mine – there, ’e did it again!’

‘Don’t ’e do that normally?’

‘No – no! I’ve not had anything out of him. Oh Joel – can you hear us?’

Again, a pressure round her hand. Then a faint fluttering of his eyelashes. She and Darius stood waiting, absolutely still. There was nothing more, though they waited on and on.

‘Nurse!’ Maryann was too emotional to be frightened of the nurse. The woman came over to her, her face grave, obviously steeling herself.

‘What is it?’ Her voice was sharp.

‘’E just squeezed my hand – a few times. He squeezed my hand!’

The woman’s face relaxed, looking relieved, then pleased. ‘Did he, now?’

Maryann left the hospital with Darius feeling like a different person. It had been a small thing, that tiny movement that told her Joel knew he was still with them, but it changed everything. They had hope, hope which lit the day brighter than the brightest summer sun.

‘I’m so glad it happened with you ’ere,’ she told Darius, who seemed to be grasping just how much this meant. ‘Oh – I feel so happy!’ She felt like shouting and singing. ‘Are you coming back to Nance’s?’

‘No – reckon I’ll get back to the boat.’

‘I tell you what, let’s take Nance to see ’er. We’ve got to go back that way any’ow and it’s not far. How about that?’

‘Awright. If that’s what you want.’ He smiled. ‘Reckon young Ernie’ll just be awake by now and starving ’ungry!’