So wrapped up was Nora in her thoughts that it didn’t dawn on her she hadn’t said goodbye to her youngest daughter until Clara positioned herself in front of her. Her voice was small as she said dutifully, ‘Ta-ta, Mam.’
Nora inclined her head. ‘You do what you’re told, mind,’ she said flatly. Then, conscious of watching eyes, she bent and gave Clara a cursory kiss. ‘Get yourself away now and have a nice time.’ She spoke for all the world as though the occasion was nothing more than a Sunday school picnic.
As the train chugged out of the station, Abby stood watching it with a heavy heart. She hoped she’d done the right thing in encouraging Clara to leave. Her sister had kept her promise and hadn’t caused a fuss like some of the bairns, but the misery in the little face had been plain to see. Abby glanced at her uncle who was standing close to the platform edge, waving frantically to Audrey who was hanging halfway out of the train window. Abby’s gaze moved to her mother. Her face showed little expression but then she was a cold fish, her mam.
When the guard’s van had disappeared, the quiet in the station seemed overpowering, and little was said among those left on the platform. Ivor stood for a few moments more staring down the track and then he turned, making his way over to where Abby and her mother were waiting. ‘Damn war,’ he muttered. ‘Hitler wants stringing up by his toes.’
Nora made no comment to this. What she did say was, ‘I’ve got a nice piece of topside and I’ve done some extra taties. Why don’t you and the lads come round and have Sunday dinner with us?’
‘I can’t speak for the lads but I don’t feel much like eating the day. Thanks all the same.’
‘You’ll have to have something.’
‘Aye, well, Audrey’s left some cold brisket and chitterlings. Likely I’ll have some of that later.’
‘You’ll need something hot,’ Nora persisted, her hands twisting together over her stomach. ‘I’ll take a plate in to Da if you’re worried about him.’
Ivor made no answer; his face was set as he stood looking at her. Abby realised that her uncle rarely looked at her mother and then never directly like he was doing now. It made her uncomfortable, uneasy, but she didn’t feel she could break the silence which had fallen on the three of them, although she didn’t know why.
Nora was staring at Ivor, anger and supplication fighting each other in her face. After what seemed like an age, she said, ‘Tomorrow then. I’ll have something hot ready tomorrow when you come home from the yard.’
‘Not for me. I shan’t be around the next few days although I dare say the lads’ll be grateful for a bite.’
‘Not . . . not around?’
‘I’m going to see me brother in Consett, him that’s been middling the last year. I had word from his wife the doctor’s told her on the quiet he’s not long for the top and of all of us, me and Art were the closest as bairns. I’d like to see him again afore he goes.’
‘Audrey didn’t say.’
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t see the need to mention it to her. She’s had enough on her plate the last little while, the way Jed’s played up about being sent away.’
‘But do you have to go now? Can’t it wait a couple of days at least? What . . . what if they don’t like where they end up, Audrey and the bairns, an’ come home? What then?’
Ivor shrugged again. ‘It seems the obvious time to go an’ Audrey won’t bring the bairns back. Mrs Appleby next door is going to look in on your da throughout the day and see to his meal at midday. It’s all arranged so you needn’t fret about him.’
‘I see,’ said Nora, her face white but for two vivid patches of colour on her high cheekbones. ‘You’ve made up your mind you’re going then?’
‘Aye, I have.’
The three of them left the station without further conversation, but as they stepped into the drizzling rain in Union Street Abby found herself in the peculiar position of feeling sorry for her mother. Her mam had only been trying to be nice in asking Uncle Ivor and the lads round for a bite; he could have sounded a bit more grateful even if he did have to go and see his brother. And her mam had made an effort to be nice to her Aunty Audrey as well - her uncle must have noticed that. Now her mam had gone all stiff and prickly and she’d likely be in a tear for days, making life unbearable at home. At least Clara was out of it. Abby stared ahead, matching her pace to Nora’s brisk strides. That was one thing less she had to worry about.
In fact, her mother was very quiet for the rest of the day rather than ranting and raving as she was apt to do when annoyed. The two of them didn’t exchange more than half a dozen words, which was fine by Abby, and when she said goodnight to her mother who was sitting staring blankly at the glow of the fire in the kitchen range, she received no more than a cursory nod of acknowledgement in response.
Wilbert was staying overnight with a pal, and Abby lay awake for some time expecting to hear her mother come up. The feeling she’d experienced in the train station of sympathy for her mother was on her again and it was unsettling, that and the ever constant concern for James. She tossed and turned for some time and was just thinking about going downstairs to see if her mother was all right and to get a drink of water, when sleep overcame her.
Nora sat in the kitchen until the clock chimed midnight. She had known all day, ever since the conversation with Ivor in the train station, exactly what she was going to do. After checking Abby was fast asleep she brought her nightie and dressing gown down to the kitchen where she had water boiling on the range. It took her some time to fill the tin bath which she’d brought in from the scullery and placed in front of the warm range, but she did not hurry over it. There was no need. In fact the later the better for what she proposed to do.
Once the bath was ready she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the warm water. She had a bar of scented soap which had been a Christmas present from Wilbert and which she had been keeping for a special occasion. Now she lathered herself all over, luxuriating in the unfamiliar smell of the rich soft perfume. After some minutes she took the pins out of her hair and washed that too, lying in the water until it began to get cool, whereupon she climbed out and dried herself before padding through to the scullery and filling a jug with cold water. She brought this to the bath and, bending over, rinsed her hair free from the last of the suds.
Her skin smelt like apple blossom and peaches, and she held her arm to her nose for a moment, taking deep breaths, before pulling on her nightie. Then she sat drying her hair with a big rough towel until it was only faintly damp, its shine brought out by the washing.
Half past one. As the clock chimed the half hour Nora stood up, pulling on her dressing gown and sliding her feet into her slippers. Very quietly she let herself out of the back door and walked round to her sister’s scullery, trying the handle of the door gently. It was locked. Audrey had always had a thing about locking the doors although most folk round these parts didn’t bother. Nora reached up and felt for the loose brick at the side of the door. She removed the brick and her fingers closed over hard metal. The spare key.
Still without making a sound she opened the back door and slipped inside, closing it carefully behind her. Her heart was pounding now, and she flitted through the kitchen, into the hall and up the stairs like an ethereal spirit in the pitch blackness.
She could hear snoring from the lads’ room but there had been no sound from her father’s room. Snores were coming from the room Ivor and Audrey shared too. Good. He was asleep. She opened the door which creaked loudly and caused her to freeze, but no voice met her ears and the snores continued unabated.
When she climbed into bed beside him she was completely naked. She snuggled into his back, wrapping her body round him and kissing and licking the back of his neck. She wanted him so badly it consumed her. She knew when they made love again he would admit it was her he loved. He stayed with Audrey out of duty, she knew that, but the time for duty was past. They were at war, anything could happen. They had to make the most of every minute now. He had to run away with her. It was the only way.
‘Mmmm.’ He groaned as he began to surface out of sleep, and she slid her arms round him to hold his penis. It was already erect and she stroked and smoothed the hot silkiness, sure of her power over him now she was here, pressing herself against his back so he could feel her breasts. He murmured her sister’s name as he turned to face her in the darkness, but when she whispered, ‘It’s me, darling, Nora,’ he froze.
The next moment his hands caught hers and his voice was a furious hiss as he said, ‘
What the hell?
I don’t believe this. What are you doing here? You’ve actually come here in the middle of the night? Are you insane, woman?’
‘For you, yes.’ He was still holding her wrists but she arched her body against him in the darkness. ‘I love you, Ivor, and you love me, you know you do. We’re meant to be together.’
‘Don’t move. Do you hear me? Don’t move a muscle or so help me I’ll throttle you.’ He flung her from him as he swung his legs out of bed, and the next moment she was sitting blinking against the light. He was standing with his hand still on the switch, staring at her. ‘Get out of here before I do for you. For you to come here,
here
.’ His voice was low but she couldn’t mistake the ferocity in it. ‘You’re mad, you know that, don’t you? Stark staring mad.’
‘Ivor, please. Please listen to me.’
‘
Listen
to you? You come here, into my home, and you say listen to you? I could kill you, Nora.’
‘Kill me then.’ She knelt up, letting her breasts swing, their fullness tipped by hard peaks. ‘But only after we’ve made love. Kill me then.’
‘You really don’t get it, do you?’ He grabbed his dressing gown, pulled it on and yanked the belt tight before walking over to where she was watching him, her hair cascading about her shoulders. ‘You disgust me, Nora. You’ve disgusted me for years. Just looking at you makes me feel sick to the pit of my stomach.’
The colour had drained from her face but she didn’t move or make any effort to cover herself.
‘I’ll live the rest of my life and eternity too regretting I ever so much as laid a finger on you. Is that plain enough for you? Now get out.’
She stared at him a moment more before slowly sliding off the bed. She walked across to where her nightie and dressing gown were lying on the floor. She picked them up and pulled the nightie over her head before she faced him again. She hadn’t said a word.
‘Get out,’ he said again.
‘You think you’re such a big man.’ Her voice was as quiet as his had been but full of enmity, her face burning with humiliation and rage. ‘But you’re nowt, a big bag of wind.’
‘Aye, that’s right, that’s what I am. Now you’ve had your say, get out.’
‘You’ll live to regret this, Ivor Hammond. I’ll see you rot in hell, you see if I don’t.’
‘No doubt I’ll be in good company.’
Nora stared at him. For the first time she knew it was really over. He’d chosen Audrey. He’d chosen
Audrey
over her. She had humiliated herself for nothing.
Along with the rising tide of fury there was a pain as though she’d been disembowelled. For a moment she considered screaming to bring the lads running. How would he explain her presence in his bedroom then?
But no, she cautioned herself in the next moment. She must think this through. If Raymond threw her out, where would she go now that Ivor didn’t want her?
She walked past him, making her way down the dark stairs and out of the house. She heard him lock the door again as she reached the end of the backyard and the sound of bolts sliding at the top and the bottom. Her lip curled. Thought she’d return at some point, did he? She’d rather slit her own throat. She continued into her own house, her progress hindered by the scalding salt tears washing her face.
Chapter Eight
T
o Abby’s delight, Clara was home again before Christmas. An excessively wet October and November which had made staying indoors a necessity had added to the strain for both evacuees and those billeting them, and as no bombs had fallen and the newspapers talked scathingly of the ‘bore war’, people concluded the danger had been grossly overstated.
True, the war was inconvenient and even dangerous for those in the forces, but as Christmas approached, the conflict had not impinged much on the life of the average civilian, except for the dramatic increase in accidents on the roads due to the blackout restrictions.