The Loom (31 page)

Maud was like a terrier hanging on to a bone in her vendetta to get what she called ‘some justice’ for Leah. As soon as she heard the news of Leah’s pregnancy she relayed the news to Jessica. Jessica had been dumbfounded. Three months after the baby was born she summoned Maud and placed an envelope in her hand.

‘Could you see that Mrs. Hammond gets this, please, Mrs. Walters,’ and she smiled a little diffidently, a blush rising to her cheeks.

Maud was elated and couldn’t wait to get to Glebe Street. She handed the envelope to Emma with a flourish. Emma automatically took it. ‘What’s this then?’ she said.

‘Have a look.’ Emma stared down at the envelope as though it was going to jump up and smack her in the face, ‘Go on then, open it, it’s from Mrs. Townsend.’

Emma dropped the letter as though it was red hot.

‘
Why would she send me a letter. Ee, I hate letters because usually it’s bad news. My mother always said to me, don’t ever put anything bad in writing, but it seems that’s all they do put in writing lately.’

‘Don’t be stupid, Emma,’ Maud said, irritated and picked the letter up. ‘Of course Mrs. Townsend’s not going to send you a bad letter. I think I know what’s in it and that you’ll like it. Here, for God’s sake, have a look.’

Emma took the letter dubiously, stared at it for a moment, broke it open and wordlessly drew out a large amount of money in notes. She held them up for Maud to see. ‘What’s this for?’

‘What do you think? For the baby, of course! This is her way of helping. Come on, let’s see how much there is.’ She quickly counted the money as Emma stared at her as though she’d gone out of her mind.

‘Two hundred pounds,’ Maud said, triumphantly.

‘What, nay, it can’t be. Not that much.’

‘It is, go on count it yourself.’ Maud thrust the money at Emma, who backed away.

‘I can’t take all that money.’

‘Why ever not,’ said Maud in exasperation.

‘It just doesn’t seem, well, right.’

‘Don’t be daft, Emma,’ Maud said sharply. ‘You and Leah are having enough trouble as it is making ends meet. This’ll straighten you out and make life a lot easier. Think about Leah, too. She’ll need things for the baby and so on.’

‘Leah won’t have anything to do with it,’ Emma said firmly. ‘She’ll not take it because I know our Leah.’

‘Well, don’t tell her it’s from Mrs. Townsend.’

‘Who, then,’ she said, still staring at the money as though it was going to bite her.

‘Tell her your Darkie sent it from America. He’s doing well now, isn’t he?’

‘Aye, he is from all accounts. Well, if you think I should, though it seems such a lot.’

‘You don’t know the half of it, Emma. Two hundred pounds is nothing to the Townsends. I’ve seen them spend that on one of their dinners. The best champagne and food and all the other odds and ends, so don’t feel guilty about taking it. I think it’s the least they can do. Go on then,’ she held the money out. ‘It’s burning a hole in me hand.’

Emma took the money reluctantly. ‘I’ll have to put it somewhere safe until I can take it to the bank.’ She looked around and then went over to the coal-scuttle. She placed the money in the bottom, under the coal.

‘
The envelope’ll get a bit dirty, but they always say dirty, rotten money, don’t they,’ she said and laughed a little, her good humour returning.

‘
How is Darkie getting on, anyway?’ Maud said, ‘and Miss Marion as well, of course. It does seem odd them being married, doesn’t it?’

‘Aye, but I’m a bit more used to it now. They moved from New York, you know and went to live in California. To Los Angeles where all the film stars live. You know, Hollywood.’

‘Never,’ Maud said and looked duly impressed. ‘Ee, Hollywood. You might just as well say the moon it seems so far away, and amongst all them film stars.’

‘No, no, they’re not with the film stars, Maud, so don’t spread that around.’

‘Well, Darkie should be with his looks,’ Maud said staunchly.

‘Ee, no, I can’t imagine Darkie in the films, he’s not the type. But they’re doing all right. They bought a garage.’

‘Did they! Oh, aye, Leah did say something about it the last time I saw her. She said they hadn’t liked New York, it was that hot in summer and freezing in the winter.’

‘Aye, I think they had a bit of a time of it at first, just reading between the lines you know. Marion was ill after the baby was born. I’m a grandmother now. Ee, it would be good to see them all.’

Maud sighed. ‘Aye it would.’ If there hadn’t been that terrible war, she thought, she would have been a grandmother, too, by now. Her daughter, Maggie, had no children and it looked like there wouldn’t be any either. Maggie and Tom liked a good time and Tom couldn’t abide children from what Maggie had told her. She liked it at the Hall but it wasn’t like having your own family around you. Emma saw her look, heard the sigh.

‘I’m sorry, Maud, nattering on,’ she said apologetically.

‘No, no, I love hearing all about your family,’ Maud said quickly. ‘It makes up for not having one of me own.’

‘Well, you know you’re welcome here any time, Maud.’ She felt sorry for Maud and wondered why she hadn’t married again. From all accounts she’d had plenty of offers.

‘Your Darkie and Marion have a little girl, now, haven’t they?’

‘Aye, she’s called Elizabeth. I think they call her Betty for short. She is bonny. Wait a minute,’ and she rummaged on the dresser amongst a pile of letters and took out an envelope. She drew sepia photo out of it. ‘Here, this is little Betty. Isn’t she a picture?’

Maud took the photo of the baby girl. ‘Ee, she’s lovely, Emma. She looks like Darkie. Look at all that dark curly hair. She is bonny.’

‘Aye, she’s got Marion’s eyes, though. Bright blue they are, Darkie said in his last letter.’ Emma looked sad for a moment. ‘I wonder if I’ll ever see them again, Maud. I’d love to see the baby. If only California wasn’t such a long way off. It’s even further away than New York.’

‘Is it,’ Maud said. Geography was not her strong point. She’d really no idea where America was for that matter, never having seen a map in her life.

‘Aye, but they like it there and the garage business is booming.’

‘That’s good. I’m glad they’re doing well and you never know they might come for a visit, or they might even come back to live. But whatever happened to Master Raymond? I’ve not heard much about what happened to him. I don’t think they’ve had many letters from him at the Hall. Did he go to California as well?’

‘No he didn’t. From what Darkie says he didn’t stay long in New York, either. Got the wandering bug and decided to go to Canada and the last I heard he was in Alaska or some such place.’

‘Alaska,’ Maud said in surprise. ‘Where’s that?’

‘Ee, I don’t rightly know, Maud. It’s somewhere in America. Up north, I think and freezing cold. You’ll have to ask Leah. She knows more about it than me. Anyway, Maud, I want to thank you for what you’ve done, before Leah gets back.’

‘I’d nothing to do with it,’ Maud said innocently.

Emma looked skeptical.

‘You’ll probably get more of the same,’ Maud added as an afterthought.

‘Never, I couldn’t take it.’

‘
You wait and see. Now that Janey’s not here and Leah not working yet you’ll need more. By the way, talking about Janey, did she get off all right?’

‘Aye,’ Emma said, her face clouding. ‘We went to Liverpool with her last week to see her off. I still feel uneasy about her going all that way on her own, but we met a nice family on the dock who were going to New York and they said they’d keep an eye on her. But then she’s got to go all the way to California from there and me and Leah were looking on the map and it’s hundreds and hundreds of miles.’

‘Don’t worry, Emma. Your Janey’ll be all right. She’s got a lot of common sense.’

Not long after the regular donations from the Hall they had another windfall, amazingly through Harold. He’d been walking home from the Wellington and got run over by a care. Could you believe it, Emma said when she heard. The one and only car in Harwood and he had to be in front of it! He left two terrace houses in Accrington, which he’d inherited from Agnes, to the three children, as well as a quite substantial sum of money.

They were really on easy street now, Leah thought as she walked over to the dress and took it off the hanger. I should be happy, she thought and really she had a lot to be thankful for. She was glad, too, that she and Paddy and the baby had a place of their own to live in. Her mother had wanted them to stay with her for a while, but Leah had been adamant. She knew her mother would be lonely at first, but they would only be living just off Glebe Street on the Square, ‘not a spit and a stride’ she’d said to Emma.

The inheritance had been a Godsend, because it had enabled her to start up the dress shop she’d planned when Stephen was alive. The shop had stayed empty for months. Every time Leah walked passed it she remembered all the plans she’d had for it.

One day, she stood staring into it, at the bare boards, well scuffed from years of feet tramping backwards and forwards. It had been a green grocer’s shop before it closed (before that a butcher, from all accounts, but that had been quite a long time ago) and there were still a few shelves around the walls, a counter (shabby) and some kind of trolley. They would all have to go, of course, and everything redecorated because paint was peeling from the ceiling, but she could see the potential.

The doorway in the back wall led to another room and suddenly a man appeared, dressed in a butcher’s apron and carrying a large knife in one hand and a long loin of lamb in the other. He was muttering to himself and looked in a bad mood. Then he was gone. Leah shook her head. The image had been so substantial, so real that she had seen the hairs hanging from his nostrils (not a pretty sight) and how his very black brows had beetled into a straight line across his forehead in his ill humour. It had shaken her a little. She wondered why she got these sudden fleeting, what could she call them? Sightings, dreams, visions! No one else seemed to get them.

So she had bought the shop and was doing well now and more importantly it had given her another interest, taking her mind off the temptation to dwell on the past. Annie Fitton and her mother took it in turns to look after Stephen when she was working. Her dresses were now selling well, thanks to Kathryn’s help. Kathryn had turned out to be a born saleswoman with ‘the gift of the gab’ as she herself put it. Leah had hired a girl to do the basic sewing. Her finest work she displayed in the window, just one garment at a time, as she’d seen in the London shops. It seemed to have worked and she now had more orders than she could cope with; she would need more help soon.

When she finally succumbed to Paddy’s ardent wooing (and sighing and cajoling and anything else he could think of), she decided that the two rooms above the shop could be turned into comfortable living quarters until Stephen was older. She furnished them tastefully without too much expense, because most of her money had gone into the business. She roamed the second hand shops in Accrington and Blackburn for furniture, and found some beautiful pieces. A comfortable chintz sofa and two matching chairs, a drop-side polished walnut table and two chairs to match; for the bedroom a brass bed, which she polished until she could see her face in it, a good solid wardrobe and dressing table and a chest of drawers.

Paddy painted the shop and the two rooms upstairs in a pale cream colour. Upstairs she had pale green carpet and beige curtains, but it was the downstairs into which she’d poured all her creative energy. She’d paid more for the carpet (a dusky blue), and bought two antique chairs upholstered in pale blue velvet. There was a large vase of wax flowers in deep maroon with pale green foliage on an ornate antique table between the two chairs.

‘
How elegant,’ Kathryn said when she saw it finally finished. ‘You’ll do well.’

Leah pulled the close fitting silk hat on her head. It was beaded with pearls, like the dress. She pulled a few wispy tendrils of hair onto her forehead. How pale she looked. She pinched her cheeks to give them a bit of colour and bit her lips so that they didn’t look so much like a wax doll. I don’t look like a happy bride, she thought as she stared into the mirror. Unbidden, her eyes filled with tears. Stop it, she told herself. Don’t give way now. But the anguish was giving her a physical pain, something which tore at her insides, ripping open that delicate membrane she’d tried so hard to form over all that had happened. How could she ever love like that again? Not even if she lived to be a hundred! She wanted to howl
his
name but instead she banged the drawer shut, slipped on her cream shoes to match the dress, picked up the beaded cream bag on the bed and walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.

The real clincher in her decision to marry Paddy had been his devotion to the baby. He had doted on him ever since his birth and thoroughly spoilt him, buying him everything, from stuffed toys to cars. Leah finally put a stop to it.

‘
He’ll become insufferable, Paddy,’ she said when he arrived at her mother’s, again with more presents, this time a set of small cars, quite expensive from the look of them.

‘I want to,’ Paddy said stubbornly.

‘Well, I don’t care what you want, Paddy, it’s got to stop. He’s not old enough to play with most of what you buy and we’ll have to move out soon to fit all this stuff in, or I’ll have to start a toy shop instead of a dress shop.’