The Loom (42 page)

She covered her face, which had gone hot at the thought, and moaned. Like a proud fool she’d let him go and like a proud fool she’d never admit (to him) she’d been wrong. She could never, never go to him and tell him what she was thinking at this moment. She dropped her head onto her arms; she wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t. She was never going to cry about a man again. She’d stick with Walter and be bored stiff (Raymond had been right) but at least she’d never want to cry over him.

She sat up and looked around her as though waking from a dream (or was it a nightmare?) Walter! With him she wouldn’t have to worry about emotional commitment, about desires (because she hadn’t any with him). She wouldn’t find herself shattered as she had been in the past. She’d learnt the hard way and she didn’t intend to go through all that again. Raymond had talked about happiness. Well, there were all kinds of happiness.

Her happiness would be her peace of mind!

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

T
o some people time means nothing. They are today as they were yesterday and would be tomorrow and all the tomorrows to follow. They never change, in other words. Time stands still for them except for the physical aspect (no picture in the attic, unfortunately).

Gertie Wicklow, (now Barnes) steps out of the spanking new Rover onto the gravel drive of Hyndburn Hall. She smooths down her equally new outfit, the height of fashion, she thinks smugly as she adjusts the collar of the grey suit and straightens her red hat. She looks around her and has the distinct impression, in spite of her new outfit and new car, that she will soon don her apron and cap and take a tray up to the mistress. She shakes herself. She doesn’t like that image flashing through her brain.

‘
Come on, Fred. Get a move on. I’ve a few other places to call before we leave Harwood.’

Fred Barnes looked at his wife in annoyance (she annoyed him a lot lately). She was a bossy ‘un: his mother had told him this before he’d married Gertie – he should have listened to her.

‘
All right, all right, hold your horses,’ he said sharply.

‘
Let me get out of the car, will you!’

Gertie was already heading for the kitchen garden gate of Hynburn Hall. They’d parked the car at the front of the house (well, why not? She wasn’t a servant here anymore – she had to keep reminding herself of this) and before she turned the corner to the back of the house she saw two figures (male) making for the main entrance. One was tall and broad and the other only a boy. She stopped to watch. They were engrossed in each other, talking away and their voices floated over to her on the breeze. They didn’t notice her. She heard the last couple of words…Uncle Raymond!

Gertie’s eyes narrowed and an understanding gleam appeared. Uncle Raymond! So that was Leah’s brat and the other one was the one who had been a brat years ago and had returned from God only knew where. She continued to watch as the two disappeared inside. So it looked as though after all this time that Raymond Townsend was back from traipsing those heathen lands. Well, well, fancy that, seeing them two on the very day she’d decided to visit her old friend, Maud!

‘
What’s wrong with you,’ Fred said. Gertie’s face was now an even brighter shade of red than the hat. Now what was up? She’d been as happy as Larry when they set off, preening and prinking in the mirror in her new outfit, a smirky, self-satisfied smile hovering on her face all the way from Manchester. Now she looked like thunder, ready at any minute to let go with a great flash of lightning as well. It didn’t take much to rile Gertie. Sensibly, he refrained from saying anything as they made their way up the path to the kitchen door.

Maud Walters had just prepared the soup, chicken: with barley and celery and onions and a heap of chicken wings and other pieces she’d popped in for good measure. It smelt good, nourishing she always said, not that it was soup weather but she remembered how Master Raymond had always loved her soup so she’d decided to surprise him. She began to make the suet dumplings, a bit heavy again, but she couldn’t make soup without dumplings.

Maud was happy again, in her element she would think, like a fish caught and then thrown back in the water. Tonight there would be four for dinner. She smiled to herself as she thought of the Townsend’s grandson who would be one of the four. And not before time, she thought as she broke off another piece of suet mixture and rolled it deftly into a small, round ball. They were going to have a lighter main course, smoked salmon and salad and then fresh strawberries (from the garden) and cream, for dessert.

She counted the row of dumplings in front of her. Twelve! She’d make another ten and that should be enough. She had just started on the next one when there was a loud, sharp knock on the door, which almost made her drop one of the dumplings on the floor.

Maud looked up angrily. No need to knock that loud! The knocking continued and she dusted the flour off her hands, wiping them on her apron as she went to open the door. Whoever was knocking was certainly an impatient bugger. She called out, ‘all right, all right. I’m coming. No need to knock the door down.’

The knocking stopped and Maud opened the door.

She almost fell over when she saw who it was (and nearly slammed the door in her face as well, she told Alf Grimsby later).

‘
Well, if it isn’t Gertie Wicklow,’ Maud said in a most unfriendly way and not per her usual self. Gertie’s face darkened and the man standing next to her began to back away.

‘
Gertie Barnes now, Maud. And this is me husband, Fred,’ she said imperiously, indicating the man behind her, who had turned to go. Gertie grabbed his arm.

‘
Where the hell do you think you’re going, Fred?’

‘
I’ll just wait in the car, love.’

‘
No you won’t. We won’t stay a minute. Well,’ she looked at Maud. ‘Aren’t you going to invite us in for a cuppa. We’ve come all the way from Manchester.’

Maud nodded sharply and left the door open for them ungraciously so they could follow her in. ‘Aye, well, come in for a minute, but I’m busy at the moment so I won’t be able to sit down with you.’

Gertie Wicklow, or whatever she was called, was the last person she wanted to see. She had a cheek, she had coming back after what she’d done, but she had a skin as thick as orange peel. Why couldn’t she be left in peace today of all days to enjoy her baking? But no, it wasn’t to be because here was this fow piece interrupting her and with a husband in tow as well.

Gertie plonked herself on a chair. ‘We won’t be staying as I’ve a few other calls to make,’ she said. ‘So how are you getting on Maud?’

‘
I’m all right, as you can see,’ Maud said shortly, rolling another dumpling in her hand. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Gertie. Brand new suit obviously and the latest hat! Come up in the world but she still had that big bust that looked like you could stack books on it.

Gertie took off her gloves and returned Maud’s critical look. Maud must be well over fifty she thought enviously and still had that trim figure and not a line on her face. It wasn’t fair. If she even looked at food the pounds just piled on.

Fred stood awkwardly behind Gertie. He could feel the tension building; why had Gertie wanted to call, he wondered. She obviously didn’t like this Maud. Just to show off, of course. He knew Gertie.

‘
Just thought we’d give our new Rover a bit of a spin, like, seeing as it’s such a nice day,’ Gertie said with a smirk (Fred was right).

Maud raised her eyebrows. This was not lost on Gertie. That’s given her a bit of something to think about. How many people in Harwood had a car, let alone a Rover? That’d show her!

‘
Oh, you’ve got a new car then?’

‘
Oh, aye, Fred here’s doing well in his business, aren’t you Fred?’

Fred nodded. He felt bloody uncomfortable and all he wanted to do was to get Gertie out of this kitchen.

‘
Oh, and what might that be, Fred,’ Maud said to Fred.

Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that,’ he said, a bit evasively, Maud thought.

‘
Must be more than a bit,’ she said.

‘
Oh, aye,’ he said, still not looking at her.

A man of few words, Maud thought sarcastically. Poor bugger looks a bit lost. You could tell who was boss there.

Gertie looked round the kitchen. ‘Where is everybody then? Is Grimsby still here?’

‘
Oh aye, but it’s his day off and the other maids are upstairs doing some cleaning.

Gertie watched Maud carry on with her baking. Where was the tea she’d been promised: conveniently forgotten, obviously. Gertie’s bad mood increased.

‘
And how’s Lady Muck getting on?’ she said, knowing this would annoy Maud.

‘
What?’ Maud said sharply.

‘
You know, Lady Leah from Glebe Street. Lady Leah whose bastard brat I just saw walking up the drive with the other bastard.’

Maud stopped what she was doing, the colour rising in her face quicker than the dough rising on the oven.

‘
Now, that’ll do, Gertie,’ she said. ‘If you’ve come to name call you can just be on your way quick smart.’

Gertie pursed her lips. Fred put his hand on Gertie’s shoulder because he knew she was getting mad the way that little red feather sticking straight up from her hat was beginning to tremble. Gertie shook his hand off in irritation.

‘
I’m not saying anything that isn’t true, Maud.’

‘
Aye, that might be, Gertie, but nobody’s perfect and there’s no need to bring up something that’s been over and done with all these years,’ Maud replied.

Why had this brazen bitch come back? Just to show off from the look of it and to rile her up. What a cheek to come back after Mrs. Townsend had sent her packing with a flea in her ear.

It seemed that nothing short of gagging would stop Gertie. She ignored Fred who was doing his best to pacify her. He patted her shoulder, tried to prise her off the chair (it was like getting an elephant to move), anything to get her to stop.

‘
Come on Gertie, love. Let’s not have any trouble,’ he said.

Gertie turned and gave him such a scathing look he stepped backwards. If looks could kill! As weak as dishwater, Gertie thought, but he’s not going to stop me from having me say. She continued, pointedly ignoring Fred.

‘
That’s true, that’s true, Maud. People aren’t perfect, but there’s some that
think
they are and get away with blue murder as well. Leah Hammond’s nothing but a slut and look at the other one upstairs. We all know what went on there, don’t we?’

Maud looked at Gertie’s mean, fat face and suddenly her blood boiled (it was true then, blood could boil because she felt that hers was ready to boil right over onto that
bloody
horrible person sitting in front of her).

How dare this sly faced bitch come here like this and sit on
her
chair and say things like that! Maud’s gaze fell on the row of dumplings lined up in front of her like neat, fat little soldiers. She picked one up and threw it at Gertie. It landed with a plop on the side of Gertie’s red hat. The sticky lump stuck there like a big, white pimple.

Gertie jumped back as though she’d been shot (she had in a way, with a dumpling).

‘
Ee, now, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she shouted, her face beginning to match her hat again.

Fred stepped back from Gertie in alarm. ‘I’m off. I’m not putting up with this,’ he said. ‘Come on Gertie, let’s get out of here.’

Gertie tried to pull the sticky mess off her hat. ‘You bitch,’ she yelled at Maud. ‘This is a bloody new hat. Cost me a fortune.’

‘
Serves you right,’ Maud said and threw another one, which hit Gertie squarely on the face. Then she let fly with another and another, pelting Gertie with the dumplings, which rained on Gertie like huge bird droppings. Plop, plop, plop, they went. Gertie ran to the door, trying to dodge the dumplings and jumping around (like she had a bee in her knickers, Maud told Alf later).

Gertie ran for the door.

‘
I’ll get you for this see if I don’t Maud Walters. I’ll get you.’ She yanked the door open so violently it almost came off its hinges (she’d always been as strong as a horse) and raced off down the kitchen path her new suit (and hat) covered in dumplings.

Maud stood silently looking at the open door and then at the floor where some of the dumplings lay after dropping off Gertie. She couldn’t believe what she’d done! What on earth had come over her? She shouldn’t have done that but when she thought of the look on Gertie’s face and all those dumplings sticking to her clothes she couldn’t keep her face straight. She started to laugh! Louder and louder as she remembered Gertie’s face, and that first dumpling landing on her hat. Oh, it was funny! Maud had to sit down she laughed so hard. She’d have to make some more dumplings but she wasn’t bothered. It had been worth it just to see Gertie’s face.

Maud wiped her eyes with a towel. She’d better clear up this mess before somebody came in. They’d think she’d been in a war!