The Loom (32 page)

Paddy laughed, and chucked the baby under his chin.

‘
All right, all right, I’ll cut down a bit.’

As Leah walked into the living room and saw her mother dressed in her best grey suit and new hat, she had a decidedly sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

‘All right, love?’ Emma said. ‘You look lovely.’

‘Thanks, Mam.’ Emma looked at Leah sharply. Ee, she wished she looked a bit happier and she was as pale as that plate on the sideboard over there.

There was a knock on the door.

‘It’s time,’ Emma said.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

‘
Y
ou say the wedding’s at two, Mrs. Walters?’ Jessica queried, self-conscious when mentioning anything to do with Leah Hammond. She didn’t often come into the kitchen and she looked out of place, as though she were on another planet.

‘Aye, it’s at St. Hubert’s,’ Maud replied, looking up from the pastry she was rolling. Don’t tell me she’s going to go? People will have something to talk about! Never a dull moment, although it had been very quiet at the Hall, especially since Mr. Townsend had been taken to that there place in Cheshire. Maud would never give it its real name. All she knew was that the Hall had been like a morgue for the last two years and she didn’t know how long she’d be able to stand it. What with Mrs. Townsend creeping around like a lost soul and her cooking having to drop to next to nothing, it was all getting a bit much was how she described her feelings to Alf Grimsby.

Jessica inclined her head at Maud’s reply. ‘Thank you Mrs. Walters and could you ask Grimsby to bring the car around at one thirty?’

Maud nodded. ‘Aye, I’ll do that. Half past one did you say?’

‘Yes, thank you Mrs. Walters. Oh, by the way. You know what I require for the dinner, don’t you? There’ll be four of us.’

All that many, Maud thought sarcastically; ee, I’ll be up all night getting ready for that, but she answered without rancour because it wasn’t Mrs. Townsend’s fault that she was dying to cook for a lot, like she used to.

‘Aye, I’ve everything prepared. Bob Wilcox is bringing up the odds and ends from Harwood this afternoon,’ and Maud gave a friendly nod at Jessica. She’d really begun to like the mistress of late. She couldn’t put her finger on it but the mistress, in spite of everything she’d been through, had come up trumps as far as Maud was concerned and just let anybody say any different and they’d be in for it!

When Jessica had gone Maud finished off the pie. She was on her own in the house today except for Grimsby. It was Jenny’s day off and now that there was only Mrs. Townsend to cater for they’d dispensed with a lot of the staff. How glad she’d been when Gertie Wicklow had left, although her replacement, Beatrice Knowles, ‘Beattie’ or Batty Beattie as she sometimes thought of her wasn’t much better: a sly ‘un! Beattie also helped Miss Fenton with the sewing as well as the heavy cleaning, which it was obvious she didn’t like at all, as Maud had discovered when she found dust an inch thick in the library. She had been looking for Mrs. Townsend at the time to discuss dinner arrangements and had been shocked at the state of the room.

‘
Looked like it hadn’t seen a brush for two years,’ she said to Alf in disgust.

Maud often wondered why Mrs. Townsend stayed in Harwood. Why didn’t she go to London where there was a bit more life, instead of wandering around this great house, half the time twiddling her thumbs, or so it seemed to Maud. Or visit her brother in Germany, even? But no, she didn’t seem inclined to do anything except mope around and visit Mr. Townsend once a week. He was another lost soul, only much worse.

Maud’s thoughts were almost identical to Jessica’s. When she left the kitchen she wandered up the stairs and into the big front room, which looked out over the front of Hyndburn. She watched the spray from the fountain as it arched into the air and then fell with a splash into the pond below. Why did she stay here? She had never really reconciled herself to living so far from London and the bright life she’d had before her marriage, and now there was really nothing to hold her here. Nothing, that is, except her memories and her guilt. That was what kept her here, the terrible feeling of culpability, that the disintegration of her family had all been her fault. So she had stayed on, visiting George in the sanatorium, returning completely devastated. She was tormented until her next visit by her husband’s ravished face, blank, unseeing eyes, the flesh falling off his once solid bulk almost before her eyes. She remembered (how could she ever forget it?) that last week before they carted him off when he discovered the truth about Raymond. It had nearly driven
her
insane.

She sighed. She’d have to do something to get out of this terrible despondency. She’d thought of suicide more than once. She couldn’t bear the quiet, the almost deathly stillness. The house echoed with it, empty rooms, empty beds, and empty places. Silence, where once there had been voices talking, laughing, even voices in anger would have been preferable to this terrible quiet, this feeling that life would never be the same for her again. And of course, it wouldn’t, she thought with a sigh as she sat down at her desk to write to Paul. Perhaps she would visit Paul and his wife, Frieda after all. He’d been trying to persuade her to come for the last six months, but she’d procrastinated, putting him off with one weak excuse after another.

She picked up the pen and began to write. She would tell him of her impending visit, which, she wrote, should be within the next few months. Even as she penned the letter she was uneasy, not really happy in her mind about the visit. Paul had changed; she had read that much in his letters; as though a stranger wrote to her. All his news was of his wife, Frieda, of the man who had taken Germany by storm, of his own full political life in the new Germany. She sensed a harder Paul. She didn’t know if she liked it, but she did miss him and in contrast to
her
life, his seemed full of excitement, of anticipation. But, although she had misgivings she did want to see Paul. He was her brother, more than that, her twin, the other half of her. Yes, she definitely would go to Germany, and soon.

She had become so desperate for company she’d invited the Grentham’s to dinner the following evening. Nothing formal and she was thankful that in spite of what had happened between John and Marion, the friendship was still intact. Granted, that immediately after the annulment, relations between the two families had cooled, a natural consequence Jessica thought, but now they were on good terms again and she was looking forward to their company tomorrow. She’d shunned people long enough. Life, after all, was for living and not burying oneself alive, which she had been doing lately.

*********

The walk from Glebe Street to St. Hubert’s Church wasn’t far. A gentle breeze ruffled Leah’s dress as she and Johnny Braithwaite, her hand through his arm (he was going to give her away) led the small entourage. Following behind was her mother, and Kathryn, her maid of honour. As they turned the corner onto St. Hubert’s Road they were surprised to see a throng of people congregated at the bottom near the church.

‘Look at all the people,’ Leah said. ‘I wonder what they’re all doing here.’

Johnny laughed. ‘What do you think, Leah, they’ve come to see you?’

‘What on earth for,’ Leah said in surprise.

‘Well, you have got a bit of a name in this town. People are nosey and you should know that by now.’

‘You mean they’re waiting to see the scarlet woman in white?’ She laughed a little, but was suddenly uneasy. This was the last thing she wanted: people staring. She
knew
they shouldn’t have had the wedding in Harwood. She’d wanted to have it in Accrington, but Paddy’s parents and her mother had been so against it that she’d hastily changed it to St. Hubert’s.

Another bone of contention had been deciding on the church! All her family had been Protestants, none-practicing her mother always said with a laugh because they never went to church. Her mother didn’t believe in all that bending your knees and singing hallelujahs.

‘
I live right, I do the right thing as best I can,’ she would say, ‘And I don’t need to go to any church.’

Leah felt pretty much the same way and religion had never been an issue until it came to the wedding.

Mara and Shamus were shocked that Leah would even contemplate not being married in a Catholic Church. Leah knew how much their religion meant to them, so had fallen in with the plan of Catholic St. Hubert’s. Unfortunately, she had not realized she would have to embrace Catholicism. By then it was too late to renege and she had to endure hours of instruction by the very unlikable Father O’Donnell. She’d drawn the line, she told Paddy later, when the priest began to discuss extremely intimate subjects.

‘
What’s he know about all that, anyway,’ she fumed at Paddy. ‘He’s supposed to be celibate so how can he tell you what to do? Anyway, you can tell him that I’ve had enough of it all and if he doesn’t want to marry us we’ll find someone who will.’

‘He’s only doing his job, Leah love,’ Paddy said, trying to placate.

‘He can do it with someone else then,’ she said shortly. Did Paddy realize just how close she’d come then to cancelling the whole thing?

To Paddy’s relief, Father O’Donnell agreed that the wedding should go ahead as scheduled, Leah promising that any children they had could be brought up Catholic, but
she
vowed never to set foot in a Catholic Church again.

When she saw the people waiting outside the church, which she now viewed almost with distaste, she broke out into a sweat and her insides fluttered like a bird’s wing. What am I doing, she thought in panic?

‘
Don’t worry, love, it’ll soon be over.’ Emma was worried. Leah was now a sickly white. ‘There’s nowt they can do.’

‘
No, only throw rotten eggs.’ Leah gave a nervous laugh. They walked on in silence for a few minutes.

‘
Are you all right, Leah?’ Kathryn said. ‘I’m sure they won’t throw anything at you on your wedding day.’

‘
I was only joking,’ Leah said. ‘I never said but you look lovely in that colour, Kathryn.’

She had made Kathryn’s outfit of peach coloured silk and even her mother looked elegant in her new grey suit, which Leah still couldn’t get used to because her mother always wore a long dark dress with a pinny on top. She couldn’t ever remember seeing her mother without her pinny!

Johnny had decided on tie and tails. Leah thought the outfit a bit too much and although they’d all ‘oohed’ and ‘ahed’ when they saw him in all his regalia, she would have preferred just a dark suit. Thank goodness he hadn’t insisted on a top hat. She would have
had
to do her Burlington Bertie routine.

The crowd in front of the church became silent as they approached. A few called out their good wishes. Thankfully nothing nasty was thrown. You just never knew with people and after what had happened in the last few years she wouldn’t have been surprised at anything. She could hear the faint strains of organ music drifting through the door. Was this a dream? The church, the bridal party, the baby, (the baby had come into it from nowhere, or so it seemed). She’d wake up any minute now and find herself snug and secure in her little room at the hall and perhaps Miss Fenton coming in to tell her that it was time to get up…and Stephen would still be alive!

The sudden longing for things to be as they were was so painful she felt as though she’d swallowed a mouthful of gravel. She blinked rapidly, gripping Johnny’s arm. He patted her hand and glanced concernedly at her pale face. The sadness seeped from her. She should be glowing with happiness on this day, he thought, suddenly angry. It was a shame that things had gone the way they had and he didn’t think Paddy O’Shea half good enough for her, but he’d kept quiet about
that
, because he knew how Emma felt about Paddy. A godsend, she’d said to him, a godsend!

The congregation shuffled and talked quietly until the organist struck the first chord. A hush fell. Heads craned towards the door as the wedding march began.

Paddy stood straight and still at the altar. This is it, he thought and he turned to watch as Leah made her way on Johnny’s arm towards him. He swallowed hard, saw her through a blur of tear-filled eyes as she approached and put out her hand to him.

Leah was vaguely aware of the people on either side as she walked slowly up the aisle. She thought, for one fleeting instant, that Mrs. Townsend was standing right at the back in a blue suit. She hung tightly onto Johnny’s arm until she reached the altar. She was frightened. She was marrying a man she didn’t love. A kind man, a man she’d known almost all her life, but she didn’t love him. Not the way she’d loved Stephen. But the altar was suddenly there before her and Paddy was standing looking at her as though his heart would break.