âI can't do that. Imagine, Mrs Brent, if you were carrying a child, even if you'd conceived before you were married, that child is part of you, part of you and part of the man you love. Could you go through all those months, feel its first movements in your wombâ'
âEnough!' Ewart Bert blustered. âWhere's your sense of decorum, madam? There are some things one doesn't discuss. Perhaps it's
your
influence that has done this to the girl. Love, you say! As if love has to be expressed by . . . by . . . by . . .' He found it difficult even to say the words âsexual gratification'. âJust to say the words fills me with shame. We've given her every chance. If she does as we say and has a few months away, hands the child over for adoption, and humbly prays for forgiveness, then we are prepared for her to come home.'
âThat's your final word? And you, Mrs Brent?'
âOf course that's the wise thing to do and we'd look to you not to spread the word in the village. But Ewart and I have talked for most of the night and we have made our minds up. If she refuses to do as we say, we shall have to move right away. I won't, no, I will
not
have Ewart's position jeopardized in the village. He is thought very highly of, and so he should be. To leave Sedgewood is a sacrifice for both of us, but it's what she has done to us with her dirty, immoral ways. No schoolboy is going to let a romp on the hay cast a long shadow over his life, especially a boy with good prospects. We've told her just what she is letting herself in for, but she is stubborn as a mule â and has no thought for her parents or what this will do to them.'
It seemed hopeless. Anger, disappointment, hurt, these things Kathie could understand, but this cold laying down of rules â rules that didn't consider Sally's feelings â put an unbridgeable distance between them.
âWe're going round in circles,' she said. âI'm sorry you take the unsympathetic attitude you do. But just in case once you settle in your new surroundings you have a change of heartâ'
âNever!' Ewart thumped his fist on the table. âIt's not easy to live by the commandments from on high, but ours is not supposed to be an easy path. Never, never will we condone her sin. That you even suggest it tells me the sort of woman you are.'
âIf you want to drive her away, at least write a letter of consent to her marriage.'
âWoman, are you deaf or stupid? To do that is tantamount to forgiving the sin.'
Kathie turned and left them, slamming the front door behind her. She found herself shaking with anger and frustration.
Instead of going straight home she went to the Hall where she was told that Bruce was in Exeter and wouldn't be back until after lunch.
That evening just as she was clearing away their meal, there came a loud knocking at the door that pushed everything else from her mind. It must be Bruce; occasionally he came in to sit with Dennis who was so deprived of male company.
âI'll get it, Auntie Kathie,' and Beth was already halfway across the passage. Kathie listened for the voice she wanted to hear.
âBeth, can you get Mrs H. I've got to speak to her.' Hearing Sally's words Kathie knew what the next step must be.
âDen,' she whispered urgently, âI'll explain everything later. But please,
please
trust me and be kind to Sally.'
âI've no idea what you're talking about, but whatever it is you'll have your own way.' Today had not been good. Claudia had spent it in Exeter having her hair done, her hands and feet manicured, her perfect teeth checked and trying on numerous skirts before finally deciding that none were worth using precious clothing coupons for.
Although Dennis's reply irritated Kathie, she was touched by his expression of forlorn hopelessness. Leaning over the back of his chair as she passed him on her way to the passage, she rubbed her cheek against his. âGood chap. I can't explain till we're on our own, but you'd do just the same as I would.'
âMakes no difference whether I would or I wouldn't. Go and see what that girl of yours wants.'
âYou old grouch!' She forced a light note into her voice as she ruffled his hair. Then her mask of light-heartedness dropped.
âSally, come inside. Yes, bring your case. Beth, love, can you finish drying the dishes for me and put them away.'
Something was afoot and Beth would much rather have stayed to hear why Sally had a big case with her. Was she going away?
âIs that girl still here?' Dennis asked her as she hurried through the warm room to the kitchen. âDid she say what she wanted at this time of the evening?'
âNo. But she has a huge case with her. They've gone into the sitting room.'
The minutes ticked by. Beth dried the dishes then put everything away. Wanting to give Kathie a pleasant surprise she even made a valiant effort at cleaning the sink; or was she just killing time rather than go back and wait with Mr H who, even after all these months, made her feel uncomfortable? If only he wasn't sitting and staring at nothing in the warm room she would creep through and listen in the passage outside the sitting room.
She was rescued by Kathie's voice calling, âBeth, can you come here a second.' She hurried past Dennis, but he seemed not to notice. âBeth, shut the door love. Now listen . . .'
A minute or two later, as the girls bumped their way up the narrow stairs with the suitcase Kathie went back to Den. âNow I can tell you. Don't say a word, Den, just listen and you'll feel the same as I do, I
know
you will.'
So she told him the story.
âWe have to help her. She can't get married, her parents are adamant they won't give their consent, even if Clive's approve. And that dreadful father of hers sees himself as a Christian!'
âThis is fast becoming a home for waifs and strays. There's no alternative; I can see that. You have a responsibility; they both worked for you and you were too wrapped up in your own affairs to see what was happening.'
She couldn't have been more surprised if he'd struck her, but at least he was in agreement that they must take Sally in.
âOnce we've got a second-hand bed she can use the sitting room,' Kathie planned.
Clearly that was a step too far. âLet her stay with Beth, keep all your do-gooding in one room.'
She pretended he had made a joke and managed to laugh.
âImagine what I was like when I was expecting Jess,' she reminded him. âThe pennies I had to spend in the night.'
âDon't!' He pulled back from her. âDon't bring Jess into this. I still say, pregnant or otherwise, if we have a responsibility to house her it shouldn't mean we have to ruin our home.' Fortunately at that second there was another knock at the front door.
âI'll go,' she said, getting up from her knees, âSally and Beth are upstairs.'
With her head held high and her shoulders squared ready to do battle she opened the door expecting the caller to be either one or both of Sally's parents. Relief and joy swept through her as she faced Bruce.
âI've only just been told that you called while I was in Exeter.'
âI have to talk to you. Thank goodness you've come; you'll know what to do.'
âKathie.' He gripped both her hands in his, speaking so softly she could scarcely hear him. âIs something wrong?'
âNot with us. But you're as involved as we are. Come inside and I'll tell you the whole story.'
In the warm room Dennis greeted him with something akin to pleasure, smiling for what Kathie was sure was the first time that day.
So Kathie told Bruce all she knew, while he listened with no more than the occasional nod. âHer parents are the most bigoted and sanctimonious couple I've ever had the misfortune to meet.'
âThey are her parents and they must be very hurt by what has happened.'
âIt hurts a lot of people,' was Dennis's opinion, âher parents, his parents, the boy's future, to say nothing of the unborn child.'
âTo my mind,' Kathie said, âit isn't for any of us to condemn. Whatever happened it came from a natural and innocent first love. We
have
to give them both all the support they're going to need.'
She was conscious of Bruce watching her.
âAmen to that,' he said. âYou realize I can't have Dunster back as head boy of Brockleigh next term? I shall phone his home this evening and hope to visit them tomorrow.' Kathie gripped her hands behind her back while every instinct was to reach out to him. She knew just how much he cared for Clive Dunster, a boy he'd guided with pride for a decade.
The odd-job man employed at the hall by Brockleigh School arrived pushing a cart on which was a single bed, a small wardrobe and a bedside table. He'd been instructed by the headmaster to help Mrs Hawthorne get the room ready for a visitor.
On the first day of term Bruce announced at assembly that for family reasons Clive Dunster would not be returning to school and the head boy's responsibilities would therefore be taken by the deputy. So after a successful twelve years at Brockleigh, Clive's name was painted out of the head boy's panel in the assembly hall and life went on as if he had played no part in it. But not for Bruce. Twice a week he posted a large envelope to the pupil for whom he had had such high hopes â and genuine affection too â keeping him abreast with his work, helping him with revision and finally with arrangements where he should sit his examination. Clive's work was returned promptly â and always at the same time he posted a second envelope addressed to Miss S. Brent, Westways. Not even to Sarah did Sally divulge what he wrote or what his true feelings were about his changed life.
Dennis had been back at Westways for almost a year on the day that Bruce brought news that Clive Dunster had gained his Higher School Certificate with a credit.
âI spoke to him on the telephone â to him and to his father. Cambridge was always his ambition but it seems he has already volunteered for the army. He's had his medical and expects his papers any day.'
To know he was at home studying for his exams was one thing; for him to be in the army quite another. To Kathie, it seemed a far cry from the boy who'd worked so hard in the garden on Saturday mornings. Was that how Sally felt too? Her expression gave nothing away as she left the others gathered on the small grassy patch in the evening sunlight.
âI must write and congratulate him,' she told them as she left them. There was a new reserve about her.
As Clive went through his initial training his letters still came, but less regularly.
âWhat's going to happen to them, Den?' Kathie said one evening in September. âAnother few weeks and the baby will be here. Suppose he lets her down.'
âWell, baby or no baby they can't marry. And God knows what his future will be â if the poor devil even has a future.' Then, folding his unread newspaper, he added, âKathie, I have to talk to you.'
Lately he'd seemed to have retreated even further into himself. Now his âI have to talk to you' gave her a great surge of hope. Was he at last going to break down the wall of misery that seemed to cut him off from her and from everything that went on at Westways? More and more she was thankful when Claudia arrived to take him to âhelp' her in her garden; only then did she see any sign of the pre-war Den. It was because there, with long-handled tools and the wide smooth paths for his chair he felt he played a useful role. Eager to hear what he had to say, Kathie stopped chopping the vegetables for tomorrow's lunchtime soup, washed her hands and pulled a chair nearer to his. Looking at him she expected something in his expression to tell her what was on his mind, but he seemed distant, almost frightened.
âWe can't live like this. Perhaps you can, you have a full life, people depending on you. I have nothing. As long as we stay in this place I have nothing but reminders of what I've lost. I'm giving notice; we'll leave Westways. After the value we've added by the work we've had done, they ought not to hold us to three months' notice.'
âLeave Westways! And where do you think you'll suddenly find everything changed and easy? I know that sounds hard, but the grass isn't going to be greener somewhere else. We all work togetherâ'
â
You
do. I don't. I want to get away, away from Sedgewood.'
âNo!' Something in her snapped. Away from Sedgewood . . . away from Bruce.
Fear fuelled her pent up anger. âYou could do lots of things if you wanted to.' At her change of tone he looked at her in amazement. âWhat do you do when you go to Claudia's? Do you sit all day feeling sorry for yourself? Of course you don't. You could look after the greenhouse; you could have mended the latch on the garden gate last week. But did you? No, you left it to me.' She felt tears welling up. She mustn't cry; she
wouldn't
cry. She'd tried so hard to give his life a purpose, but it was as if he was frightened to have anything to do with the old life.
âKathie, I can't live as we are. Here, I am nothing.' He started to bluster. âA few more weeks and that girl will be draping her illegitimate brat's nappies and God knows what to air on the fireguard. Whose home is it? Ours or hers? She must find somewhere else. And Beth must be given another billet. We shall leave here, get right away, somewhere new.'
âIf
I
can't make you think differently, what about Claudia? It's been good for you to spend so much time helping her, but what about her? She needs to feel wanted; you have been as good for her as she has for you. She'd be lost if we went. You can't expect us to drop her as if friends don't count.'
âFor Christ's sake, Kathie, how blind can you get? Don't you ever see what's going on before you? If we have any chance, we have to move right away.'
âI don't understand.' She saw how his hand was shaking as he lit a cigarette. âYou might offer me one of those.'