Shelter from the Storm (33 page)

‘Aye, I’m just like Alf that road,’ Dryden said.

It made her laugh.

‘And you are bonny,’ he said. ‘You always were bonnier than everybody else. C’m’ere.’ He put a hand to her cheek and kissed her, and the moment he did he remembered how sweet she had been, how sweet women always were. It was no hardship taking her to bed, it was just that he didn’t love her, but then he had never loved any of the others. He had never touched the only woman he had ever loved. She was probably busy counting the day’s takings at the shop.

*

Thaddeus insisted that Joe should be at his house for dinner on Christmas Day. He looked offended when he reminded Joe of the occasion and Joe tried to get out of it. The last thing Joe wanted was to see Luisa and George together. Alice would go on and on about the baby and he didn’t think he could bear it, but Thaddeus frowned when he said he didn’t think he would come.

‘But you must. Alice has arranged everything. Especially now when we have such good news about the baby. It’s what we’ve longed for, prayed for.’ He threw Joe a searching look. ‘You can’t be going to sit in that draughty old house of yours all on your own.’ He looked harder at Joe. ‘Why don’t you bring her with you?’

‘Who?’

Thaddeus smiled.

‘The woman you’re intending to spend Christmas Day with instead of us.’

‘Thaddeus—’

‘No, really. Alice would be pleased. She’s always saying we must find a wife for you, though God knows you aren’t very old. You’ve had to be older, that’s the trouble. She must be a nice lass if you like her. Bring her with you. I’ll tell Alice. She’ll be very pleased.’

Joe couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. He didn’t want to go; he didn’t want to go by himself, and he certainly didn’t want to take anybody with him. Neither did he want to spend Christmas Day at home. The arrangement with Thaddeus and Alice had been made so long ago that he didn’t see how he could not go.

He finished work late. It was Christmas week and he hated it, looking in the houses for signs of festivities. The miners bought good food for their families and presents and hung their houses with holly and mistletoe. The churches were lit as people practised carol services and there were good smells from the houses in the row as cakes and puddings were made and left to mature. This year there would be extra for everyone — the wages were good and Joe had put more on top for the holiday — but to look into the lit windows and not be able to go inside was hard for him.

Instead of going directly home he wandered up the street. The sounds of laughter coming from the pubs made him feel worse. His status in the village ensured that he had no friends and he had had none from boyhood, not having gone to school and his father being a drunk. He should have been grateful for Thaddeus and Alice, instead of which … He didn’t want to think about that.

The lights were on in Vinia’s shop and she saw him and waved and unlocked the door, smiling. Joe did not feel that he deserved the smile.

‘Come in.’

‘I shouldn’t.’

‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

He went reluctantly into the shop and the memory of the meeting with Luisa came up into his mouth like bile. Vinia either didn’t notice or chose not to. She went off into the back and he followed, and he remembered each detail, each word. He felt he was breathing the same air again.

‘What are you doing for Christmas?’ Vinia asked, as she busied herself making tea. Joe could suddenly see the point of these ceremonies. They were so useful to hide in.

‘I’m supposed to be spending the day with Thaddeus and Alice.’

‘Won’t that be difficult?’

‘It’ll be wonderful,’ Joe said. ‘Luisa and George will be there.’

‘You could come to us.’

‘I can’t get out of it, but thanks. What are you doing?’

‘Nothing.’ She hesitated for a second and then said, ‘At least this year I won’t have to put up with Mary. That’s about all there is to be said for it.’

Joe had an idea. He almost dismissed it but his mouth got in the way.

‘You could come with me,’ he said.

Vinia looked at him.

‘I could?’

‘You wouldn’t want to, of course. I shouldn’t have asked.’

She looked at him and frowned, and then the frown cleared.

‘Can you take somebody?’

‘Yes, but if you did …’

‘If I did what?’

‘They’ll think that we’re …’

‘Luisa and George won’t think it.’

‘True. Don’t give it another thought. It was a stupid idea and I didn’t mean to insult you. You must think I’m …’ Joe couldn’t face her. He walked around the room as though it were a pleasure garden.

Vinia poured out the tea, and then she put the teapot down and watched him as he went on meandering and said, ‘Look, Joe, you’re the pit-owner so I shouldn’t say things to you but we
know each other quite well and … everybody’s allowed to make one big mistake, you know.’

Joe stopped.

‘Where is that written?’

‘I don’t know where it’s written but it’s true.’

‘It was one hell of a mistake,’ Joe said.

‘Not really. Think of what some people do. Some men send hundreds of men into battle and get them killed.’

‘I got Tom killed.’

‘No, you didn’t!’ She went to him. ‘I won’t have that. You can’t be everything, save everybody. You can’t do it. You provide jobs for all these people—’

‘They risk their lives every day.’

‘It’s what they do. All you did was to fall in love with the wrong woman. Haven’t most men done that?’

‘I don’t know. And there’ll be a child.’

‘These things never work out. I would have given anything for a bairn. Things might have been different. And Esther Margaret … Is it going to be a big party?’

‘I should think so. Thaddeus has a lot of friends.’

‘And they have a nice house?’

‘Lovely.’

‘And there’ll be lots of food and drink and the women will wear pretty dresses?’

‘Sure to.’

‘I would love to go.’

‘What? Really?’

‘Yes. Why not?’

*

It was bitterly cold. She locked the shop and they walked down the street together. Vinia was glad it was before the pubs came out. She and Joe could not be seen together, people would talk, but she could not regret having said she would go to the party. She had never been to an elegant party and might never go to one
again, and she had a dress than she had not been able to resist, dark red like plums. It was not quite finished. It had been not quite finished for some time, but she determined that it would be and she would wear it. She deserved to go to an elegant party, just once. She imagined what it was like walking into a room with somebody like Joe, in a nice dark suit, all tall and handsome. She thought she should have cared that what he really needed her there for was for camouflage, but she didn’t. She and Joe liked each other and other things didn’t get in the way. It was not romantic but it might be fun, and she hadn’t had much of that in her life, and she didn’t think Joe had either.

When she reached home there was a lamp burning in the kitchen and the fire had gone almost to nothing, as though nobody had thought about banking it down for the night, or perhaps they had not gone to bed. She locked the back door and took off her coat and was rather glad of the fire because the room kept its heat well. It looked so pretty with holly along the mantelshelf, and Esther Margaret had mischievously put mistletoe at the foot of the stairs, though nobody had taken any notice of it and they were too busy to have visitors. They weren’t planning anything for Christmas Day and she didn’t think Esther Margaret or Dryden would mind her not being there.

Esther Margaret had left some supper in the pantry. She came back into the kitchen to find Dryden at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Oh, I thought you’d gone to bed.’

‘You’re late. If you’re going to be that late I would come and walk you, you know.’

‘Thanks. Joe was there.’ It made her self-conscious to say it and it sounded daft.

‘Joe? What was he doing there?’

‘He came to the shop.’ She busied herself rather as she had when she was making tea earlier and she had felt awkward with Joe. It was annoying to have to feel so guilty when you hadn’t done anything. ‘He asked me to go to a party on Christmas Day. You wouldn’t mind?’

There was the tiniest hesitation before he said lightly, ‘Who am I to mind?’

‘No, but …’ Her appetite had gone. She stopped trying to arrange something to eat and looked at him. He was standing under the mistletoe. He didn’t know it. ‘He has to go to Mr and Mrs Morgan’s and you know what that will be like and … I just thought …’

‘Their house is really big,’ Dryden said, moving into the room. ‘I think it would be nice, don’t you?’

Vinia couldn’t understand why she had lost her appetite. He was not Tom, he was not menacing, anything but, and she had worked hard that day and it was late and she should have been happy, what with the invitation and the shop doing so well. She wasn’t even thinking quite so much about the accident and Tom. But her instincts told her that there was something wrong.

‘Is Esther Margaret all right?’

‘Yes, she’s asleep. Aren’t you going to have anything to eat?’

Vinia gazed down at the dinner that had been left for her to heat up.

‘I don’t fancy it,’ she confessed.

‘Here, I’ll put it in the oven for you.’

‘You’ve let the fire down.’

‘It’s still warm.’

She turned her attention to the fire so that it began to burn with flame. He said suddenly, ‘I’m going to bed. Goodnight.’

He got to the bottom of the stairs and there he stopped again, quite unconscious of the mistletoe, as though afraid the darkness beyond would swallow him up. Vinia never knew afterwards why she went to him but she did, and she kissed him, reaching up into his thick dark hair. Dryden looked at her in surprise. Vinia indicated above his head. She had always hated and avoided such customs, she couldn’t understand herself, or that she had invited him to do the same. She had kissed nobody but Tom in her life. Dryden took a very light hold of her and brushed his mouth against hers. It was nothing, but it was the
kind of nothing that was almost something, that could have been too much, as though he were in fear of it and of the consequences. Vinia wished she hadn’t done it. Tom’s kisses had always been uncomplicated and fierce. He had no idea about affection or caresses and she wondered where Dryden had learned such things, for although he didn’t exercise them he was certainly capable of them. He had not had a happy home life. Could the women that he had known have taught him? He said goodnight again and went to bed, and she stared after him.

It seemed to Vinia that Luisa McAndrew’s hot gaze followed Joe all that Christmas Day. If he was aware of it he gave no sign, and she was amazed at his coolness. He behaved as though there were nothing wrong. He kissed Luisa’s cheek and that of her mother, he spoke civilly to George McAndrew, and Vinia came to the conclusion that it was Thaddeus Morgan he did it for. It was obvious to her that the Morgans knew nothing about any liaison between Joe and their daughter.

The party was heaven to her. She wore the dress and was pleased with it, even though it was obvious that some of the other women wore dresses made of more expensive material by experienced dressmakers, and she liked being with Joe simply because she was not used to being with anybody any more, and he kept her close for his own defence’s sake. The house was like nothing she had seen before and seemed rich to her. The food was good and there were sufficient people so that she did not feel conspicuous or out of place. Thaddeus Morgan was kind and kissed her and welcomed her to his house, and so did his wife after her initial surprise. Vinia thought that people who did not know her looked askance, but she didn’t care.

Free to wander after the meal in the early afternoon, she found Luisa alone in a small book-lined room with a fire. When
she looked up, Vinia could not help saying, ‘You love Joe, don’t you?’

Luisa laughed.

‘Of course not. How could I possibly love him?’

‘It isn’t something people can help. Whoever would have wanted to love Tom, but I did. Doesn’t Joe love you?’

‘He was a child in a chocolate shop, that was all.’

‘I don’t think Joe’s like that.’

‘How do you know?’

‘He could have anybody, I dare say, but he hasn’t.’

Luisa stood by the window. It was a bleak day, cold and turning grey with evening.

‘My husband is a difficult man.’

‘So you’ve made a bargain?’

Luisa looked respectfully at her.

‘You’re very quick. There was nothing to be done.’

Alice came in then, saying briskly, ‘What about a turn about the garden before it gets dark?’

‘Don’t be silly, Mother. Winter is the world’s best reason for not going outside,’ Luisa said, smiling.

Alice came across and pressed her hand.

‘My dear, you’re right,’ she said. ‘We must look after you.’

‘You have a beautiful house here, Mrs Morgan,’ Vinia said.

‘Do you know, I’ve never liked it. Thaddeus’s father built it for his mother and I don’t think she ever liked it either. It’s too near the river, so damp.’

Vinia looked beyond to where the little fields made up a quilt and the river ran through them in silver. Across the other side of the valley the hills rose in a bare jagged outline that hinted at the fell beyond, and there were long grey farmhouses with stone walls and the sky was grey and white like sheep’s fleece. Inside, the lamps were being lit and the smell of good cooking permeated the hall. Mrs Morgan collected her daughter and walked her away to where George McAndrew was holding forth on some political issue in a bigger room across the hall.

Vinia went in search of Joe and found him leaning against the desk in Thaddeus’s study, with Thaddeus sitting at the desk. They were talking in low voices as though they were at work. She paused apologetically in the doorway.

‘It’s getting dark,’ she said. ‘We ought to go.’

They had been asked to stay the night but Vinia didn’t think she could be polite for two days running, and besides, she had turned into the kind of person who didn’t like to leave her shop for too long. The men would be going back to work the following day.