Act of Will (14 page)

Laurette was a sweet-natured girl, and at twenty-two she was the nearest to Vincent in age. They had always been very close. She was lovely looking with fair, wavy hair, a sensitive face and grey eyes that were enigmatic and soulful. Tall, slender, she had a frame and a build similar to her brother’s, but it was young Maggie who truly resembled him, with her gypsy-dark hair, widow’s peak and large green eyes that were a reflection of his. Olive, the middle sister, was more like Laurette to look at, but she too had dark hair, and she had inherited her
mother’s pale blue eyes. Olive, who was twenty, had married her childhood sweetheart when she was eighteen and she and her husband Hal lived near by.

Maggie joined Vincent and Laurette at the kitchen table.

She stood next to her favourite brother, rested one hand on his shoulder and with the other she slapped a packet of Woodbines down in front of him, along with some loose change.

‘Here’s your cigs, our Vincent. And don’t smoke ’em all at once either. Because I’m not going out again today. Not for nobody I’m not. Not even you. So there!’ Flopping down on the chair next to him she threw him a challenging look, added, ‘If you want to know, I’m fed up being everybody’s blinking errand boy!’

He threw back his head and roared. ‘Aren’t you the tough little tiddler this morning. But thanks for getting my cigs, love.’

Laurette said, ‘I can’t believe everybody went out… on a cruel day like this… why, it’s blue murder out there, Vincent. Where on earth have they all gone?’

‘Dad went to the barber’s to get a haircut. Our Frank, the aspiring equestrian, is at Hardcastle’s stables, helping to exercise the horses. And the learned Bill took his books back to the library.’

‘I see.’ Laurette sipped her tea. There was a short pause. Then she asked, ‘Olive’s not been up this morning, has she?’

‘No, not yet.’

‘Oh I am glad I haven’t missed her. We’re supposed to be going to the old-time dancing tonight, and I want to make my arrangements with her.’ Laurette paused and smiled at her brother as an idea struck her. ‘Would you like to come with us, Vincent?’

‘I would!’ Maggie interjected eagerly, swinging her eyes to her sister. ‘Let me come with you and Olive, Laurette.
Please
.’

‘No, you can’t, you’re too young,’ Laurette said. ‘Well, Vincent, what about it?’

He shook his head. ‘No, thanks for asking, though.’

‘But why not?’ Laurette demanded. ‘You’d enjoy it. Come on, say you’ll come with us.’

He shook his head more vehemently.

Maggie cried, ‘Oh he doesn’t want to go
there
, Laurette! It’s too tame. He always goes to the
pub
on Saturday nights. But first he goes down to the Parish Hall and has a look round… giving all the girls the once over, that’s what I’ve heard. I bet that’s why he stands in front of that there mirror over there, titivating himself for hours on end. I’m not surprised it drives our dad bats. He’s vain, our Vincent is, and he fancies himself. Anybody would think he’s a girl the way he looks in the glass all the time.’

Vincent flushed, glared at her. ‘You’re getting to be a right cheeky little bugger, do you know that, our Maggie?’

Maggie stiffened in her chair, shrieked, ‘You’d better not let me dad hear you call me that, our Vincent! Or he’ll land you a clout that’ll send you right into the middle of next week!’

‘Huh! Fat chance of that!’ Vincent shot back.

‘Now you two, quieten down,’ Laurette hushed, scowling at them. She wagged a finger at Maggie. ‘You
are
getting too big for your breeches, and so you’d better watch it from now on. As for you, Vincent, you ought to know better than to swear at her. Mam doesn’t like that either, you know.’

‘Aye,’ Vincent muttered, annoyed with himself for letting the girl get his goat in the way that she had.

Maggie, genuinely regretting that she had teased him, leaned across the table, peered into his handsome face, saw that it was cold and closed. She filled with chagrin, said softly, ‘I’m ever so sorry, Vincent, really I am.’ She reached out, squeezed his arm. ‘Let’s be friends again. Oh and by the by, you said you’d give me something, for going for your Woodbines.’

‘If you’re not careful it’ll be a thick ear,’ he growled.

‘Well, I never!’ Maggie gasped. ‘It’s the last time I’ll do an errand for you, Vincent Crowther. You don’t keep your promises.’

For a reason he couldn’t explain he began to laugh. His eyes twinkled as he reached out, rumpled his little sister’s hair. Then he pushed a sixpence towards her. ‘There you are, love, that’s for your money box.’

Maggie beamed at him. ‘Oh no, I’m going to spend it immediately. Thanks.’

Vincent gave Laurette a curious glance, asked, ‘And who’s taking you to the old time-dancing? Allan Turner?’

Laurette’s eyes glowed. She broke into smiles, nodded. ‘Yes.’

Vincent was thoughtful. After lighting a cigarette he murmured in a low tone, ‘Don’t you think it’s about time you settled things with Jimmy? Went to see a solicitor in Leeds… about a divorce?’

‘Yes, it is, and, as a matter of fact, I have an appointment with a solicitor next Saturday. Jimmy’s agreed to everything.’

‘Dad’s going to be ever so pleased to hear
that
!’ Maggie announced before Vincent had a chance to say a word. ‘He never did think much of that marriage of yours, Laurette. He says that’s how idiots get born… first cousins marrying and having babies, I mean.’

Laurette gaped at her. She paled and her soft grey eyes
suddenly swam. She stood up unsteadily, rushed over to the door leading to the staircase, yanked it open. ‘I think I’ll go and help Mam,’ she whispered in a hoarse voice and flew up the stairs.

Vincent was furious with Maggie and he turned on her angrily. ‘Will you never learn, lass? Your mouth’s always open and your foot’s always in it, for Christ’s sake!’

‘What have I said
wrong
then?’ Maggie wailed. ‘And anyway, our dad
didn’t
like her marrying Jimmy Wells.’

Vincent sprang up, his anger spiralling. He looked down at his youngest sister in dismay. It took all of his self-control to keep his hands off her. He wanted to shake her until she rattled. Finally he said, ‘You know as well as I do how upset Laurette’s been because she didn’t get pregnant.’

Her defiance fully intact, Maggie declared, ‘Well, if what Dad says is true, it’s a good job she didn’t, and that’s a fact!’

Vincent lifted his eyes to the ceiling, groaned out loud. ‘Old wives’ tales… our dad’s out of date, living in Dick’s days.’ He strode across to the cupboard, took out his overcoat.

Maggie cried, ‘Where are you going, Vincent?’

‘Anywhere to escape you.’

Vincent saw her through the window of the pet shop.

For a moment he could not believe his eyes, could not believe it was really her.

He stood staring, transfixed. And then he cupped his hands around his face, pressed closer to the glass. Oh yes, it was her all right. As large as life, looking at budgies. Then he noticed the child standing next to her.

Vincent’s heart took a dip to his boots.

Was she a married woman? No, that was not possible. She had not been wearing a ring at the dance. And she was certainly too young to have a child as big as the one accompanying her. No, the boy was most likely her brother. And she was probably buying him a budgie, just as he himself had decided to buy his little brother Danny a pet of some sort. That was the reason he had directed his steps towards the shop in the first place.

Well, Vincent thought, standing here isn’t going to get me anywhere, so I might as well go inside. His hand went to his tie automatically, and he straightened the knot, then, taking a deep breath, he opened the shop door.

The tinkling of the bell caused the girl to glance over her shoulder. At the sight of him her eyes widened. Seemingly she was as astonished as he had been a moment before.

Vincent smiled at her.

She smiled back, her face dimpling.

He thought her smile was quite the most dazzling he had seen in a long time. Encouraged, he strode across the shop, very determined.

She turned around to face him, watched his progress in her direction with quickening interest.

As he drew to a standstill in front of her, Vincent saw the expectant look in her eyes. He took off his hat, stood holding it in his hands. He smiled again, said, ‘Excuse me… I wonder if you remember me?’

‘Why yes, of course I do. We had the last waltz at the Parish Hall… on Bonfire Night. And I must apologize for not thanking you for asking me to dance that evening. You must have thought me very ungracious.’

She was a lady. He stared at her, startled, and momentarily flustered. His voice fled and so did his nerve. Why would a girl of her obvious breeding be interested in the likes of him? he wondered, clutching his hat all that much tighter. A feeling of enormous disappointment trickled through him.
She
was beyond
his
reach. Oh yes, most assuredly she was. And just as she had been tongue-tied at the dance, now it was his turn to be struck dumb, and he felt like a ninny.

There was an awkward silence.

It was the child who broke it. He asked, in a shrill little voice, ‘What’s
your
name?’

The girl exclaimed sharply, but in a low tone, ‘Now, now, that’s most rude of you. Mind your manners, young man.’

‘It’s Vincent Crowther,’ Vincent said, swiftly, grabbing this opportunity. He was surprised that his voice sounded so normal and this helped to restore his diminished confidence. He glanced down at the boy and grinned at him, thankful for his presence.

The child turned his small bright face up to Vincent’s, thrust his hand towards him, announced, ‘And I’m Theophilus Bell of Calpher House, Upper Armley.’

Vincent shook his hand, endeavouring to match the child’s enormous solemnity as he said, ‘I’m very pleased to meet you. And if you don’t mind me saying so, that’s quite a mouthful of a name you’ve got, by gum it is, lad.’

‘It means
beloved of God
in Greek,’ Theophilus explained, puffing out his little chest importantly. He gave Vincent a shimmering smile and added, ‘But you can call me Theo for short.’

‘That’s right nice of you. Thanks very much, I will.’ Raising his head, Vincent now directed his gaze at the young woman. He cleared his throat, and having entirely regained his composure, not to mention his cool cheek, he gave her his most engaging smile. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you know my name. Can I have the honour of knowing yours?’

‘Yes, of course you may, Mr Crowther. It’s Audra Kenton.’ Her smile was warm, and as friendly as his had been, and she offered him her hand.

Vincent took it in his, was surprised at the firmness of her grip, the strength in her hand as she shook his. Such a small hand it was too, just as she herself was small and delicate. He held onto her hand for longer than was necessary, unable to release it as he gazed into her clear, very bright blue eyes which reminded him of cornflowers. Unexpectedly, he thought:
I cannot let this woman go. Never. Ever. I want her for the rest of my life
.

He was appalled at his thoughts.

He blinked, finally let go of her hand, glanced away, and he was struck at once by the irrationality of his feelings. The mere idea of marriage was absurd, and to this woman it was positively ludicrous. She was different.
Special. A lady. And one who would hardly be interested in
him
, a bricklayer learning his trade. She was obviously a relation of the Bells, who were local gentry, posh folk with pots and pots of brass and lots of clout in the neighbourhood. These facts aside, marriage was not part of his present plans; he had a lot of living to do before tying himself to a woman’s apron strings. That was a mug’s game. Why, he wouldn’t even be twenty-five until June.

All of this had flashed through Vincent’s head in a matter of seconds and now he wanted to run out of the shop immediately, to escape before it was too late. But to his own irritation he discovered he could not move. He was rooted to the spot. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable, ill at ease with himself and, therefore, with her, and he began to twist the brim of his trilby in his hands.

Theophilus tugged at Vincent’s coat, piped up, ‘
We’re
looking for a budgerigar, Mr Crowther. What’ve
you
come to buy?’

Thank God for the boy, Vincent thought. He said, ‘Well, I don’t rightly know, if you want the honest truth.’ Giving his entire attention to the child, he stooped down, confided, ‘You see, Theo, I came to get something for my little brother. He’s four. But I didn’t think to ask him what he’d like before I left the house. So now I’m stuck, sort of. You look like an experienced young man when it comes to pets. Maybe you could make a suggestion or two.’

‘Mmmm. Let me think a minute.’ Theo nodded his head sagely, pursed his lips, adopted an expression of great concentration. He swung his observant eyes around the pet shop, leaned into Vincent and said, ‘It’s a bit difficult really, making a proper suggestion, I mean. There’s not much to choose from, you see.’

Vincent burst out laughing at the boy’s pithiness, his blunt words. ‘You’d better not let Mr Harrison hear you say that. He thinks he owns the best pet shop in Armley.’

‘And he does, since it’s the only one,’ Theo replied, grinning, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

‘Little boys are meant to be seen and not heard,’ Audra remarked. But this was the mildest of chastisements. Laughter bubbled up in her throat and her eyes danced. She glanced at Vincent, then shrugged. She murmured, ‘What can you do?’

Vincent said, ‘He’s a right rum ’un, he is that.’

Theo’s beady black eyes, swivelling between the two of them, settled on Vincent, who obviously fascinated him. He said, ‘I think you should buy your brother a budgie. At least Mr Harrison has a big lot of those to choose from. Come on, Mr Crowther, let me show you.’ He plucked at Vincent’s sleeve. ‘What’s his name? Your brother, I mean.’

‘Danny.’ Vincent allowed himself to be led over to the many bird cages which lined one wall of the shop. He and the boy stood regarding them with interest, and after a moment Vincent said, and with some admiration, ‘I’ll say this, Theo, they are beautiful.’