Read Katy's Men Online

Authors: Irene Carr

Katy's Men (22 page)

He
stopped then, seeing the tears running down Katy’s face, and looked uncomfortably at Leybourne, appealing for help. The policeman took Katy’s arm. ‘I don’t think we can do any more here, ma’am.’

Katy
thought, Nor anywhere else. Louise was out of her reach, gone away with her father and at his mercy for as long as this war might last. And she was suddenly certain that war was inevitable. She could not see either the policeman or the clerk properly because of the tears blinding her, could hardly mouth the words through the grief which was choking her: ‘Will you take me to the station, please? I want to go back to Sunderland.’ She wanted to hide from the world and went, drooping, with Leybourne.

*

Ivor Spargo made the run from York to Newcastle twice a week. He was in .charge of the vehicle inasmuch as he conducted the business but he had a man to drive it for him. Vera, his mother, had bitterly insisted on that. Her anger at having to leave Sunderland had not abated. She daily derided and cursed Arthur and Ivor for the fiasco they had engineered. Ivor was grateful for the trip to Newcastle because it took him out of reach of her whiplash of a tongue for a while, at least.

The
business was the collection of miscellaneous goods from warehouses set by the Tyne. It was as he emerged from one of these that Ivor saw Katy being helped into a cab by a police sergeant. Even from across the street, Ivor could see that she was distressed and wiping at her eyes with a scrap of handkerchief. As he stared the cabbie shook the reins and the horse trotted away with the cab swaying behind it. A clerk stood outside an office, watching it go, and Ivor told his driver, ‘Wait here a minute.’

The
driver protested, ‘We can’t hang around here all day! Your ma will be expecting us!’ He knew Ivor stood in fear of Ma Spargo.

But
Ivor was not deterred this time and only snarled back at him, ‘You damn well wait!’ He ran across the road to catch the clerk before he could re-enter his office, and panted, ‘Here! Was that lass getting arrested?’ And craftily pretending solicitude rather than vulgar curiosity, ‘It must be a mistake, a bonny lass like that.’

The
clerk shook his head dolefully. ‘No, she’s not being pinched. It’s a very sad case. I don’t know all the ins and outs but it seems she had a bairn by a feller and then he didn’t marry her. Now he’s taken the little lass and gone off to Germany. That woman you saw is broken-hearted.’

Ivor
feigned sorrow, ‘Aw! That’s terrible! So he’s not taking her to the station?’

The
clerk chuckled at this. ‘Aye, he is, but not the pollis station. She’s gone to get the train back to Sunderland.’ Then he stared because Ivor was racing across to the lorry and swinging up into the cab. A second later it roared off down the street.

At
the railway station, Katy smiled shakily up at Sergeant Leybourne and said, ‘Thank you, but I can manage on my own from here.’

He
tried, awkwardly, to cheer her: ‘Keep your pecker up, lass. They say if this war starts it will be over by Christmas and then you’ll get her back. Keep that in mind.’ Then he left her with a salute and Katy looked for and found her train. She was oblivious to the crowds of reservists and they were all seeking main line trains. She found a seat easily in the local that would stop at all stations to Sunderland. She stared out of the grimy window, seeing nothing but Louise — and a grinning Howard Ross. There was a slamming of doors, the guard’s whistle blew and the train jerked with a preparatory banging of couplings then started to move away. And suddenly Ivor’s face took the place of Howard’s.

He
had run frantically from the lorry to catch this train, had charged through the barrier, brushing past the clutching fingers of an outraged ticket collector, ignoring his bellow of, ‘Come back here!’ He was gasping for breath but he had caught Katy and that was all that mattered.

He
clung with one hand to the door handle as the engine gathered speed, clung long enough to shriek at her, his voice breaking with hate and triumph: ‘So that white-headed fancy man o’ yours has done you dirt again! Run off wi’ the bairn he left ye with! Serve you right, you little bitch!’

He
had to let go then, his labouring legs unable to match the acceleration of the train. He fell back and out of Katy’s sight but he had been laughing with glee at her pain and she knew he would be laughing still.

*

Matt had packed his kit and carried it down to the hall. He looked in the drawing-room and saw Fleur sitting in an armchair and staring sulkily into space. Matt said. ‘I’m going down to the yard for a few minutes to tie up a loose end, then I’ll come back here for my kit and catch my train.’

Fleur
answered, ‘As you wish.’ The threat of war had spoiled her holiday and looked as though it would disastrously affect her social arrangements. Matt was running off because of some stupid idea of duty and she could scarcely attend a dance or go out to dinner on her own.

Matt
bit off an angry retort. These were the last hours before he went off to war. He did not want them soured by a row. ‘Then I’ll see you soon.’


Very well.’ She did not turn her head to face him.

He
left the house and drove off in the Vauxhall. As the sound of his engine died away, Fleur thought there might be a solution to the problem of the escort.

It
was some time later that her thoughts turned to Katy Merrick.

*

Later Katy remembered little of the nightmare journey back to Monkwearmouth station. She left the train there, rather than cross the bridge into the central station in Sunderland, and walked to the yard. As she entered she saw Matt’s Vauxhall standing outside the office. She remembered dully that he had said he would look in that afternoon — something about an authority for Fleur to draw money while he was away — before he left to join the Army. It meant nothing to Katy now. Matt ran out to meet her as she trudged wearily up to the office. He set his hands on her shoulders, peered down into her tear-streaked face and said, ‘Annie told me all about it.’

Annie
showed behind him. She, too, had been weeping and the corners of her mouth were down. She wailed, ‘I had to tell him the truth about Louise’s father. Matt thought he was a sailor.’

Katy
looked up at Matt and explained, not caring now, ‘It was a story I made up because Louise was born out of wedlock.’

Matt
said, ‘I know. Never mind that now. Did you find Louise?’ Katy shook her head dumbly, wordless from the lump in her throat, and he said softly, ‘Oh, dear God! I’m sorry, Katy.’

She
tried to speak, failed and tried again. It came out chokingly, ‘He’s taken her to Germany. I can’t do anything until the war is over and I don’t know how I’ll find her then.’ Katy’s face crumpled and she sagged with it under the weight of emotional exhaustion.

Matt
said, ‘Oh, Katy!’ He opened his arms and she fell into them, they wrapped her round and she lay with her head against his chest and wept. He held her and whispered words of commiseration, stroked her and stooped his head over her to kiss her cheek. ‘We’ll find her, Katy. As soon as this war is over — they say it will be over by Christmas — we’ll find her and bring her back.’ Just for a moment Katy, unreasoning because she was not able to reason, felt safe and secure in his arms and hopeful. Then Fleur said harshly, ‘And what the hell are you two up to?’

She
had come in at the gate unseen and now stood only feet away. The cab that had brought her was turning away outside the gates, the cabbie clicking his tongue at his horse. Fleur glared at Matt and Katy as they turned startled faces towards her, and she went on, voice rising, ‘Not as I can’t bloody see!’ And glaring at Matt she mimicked, ‘ “I’m going down to the yard for a few minutes.” That was an hour ago!’

Katy
pushed herself away from Matt, her hands on his chest. She tried to dry her tears with a scrap of handkerchief, tried to explain: ‘I’ve lost Louise. Her father took her—’

Fleur
broke in, shouting, ‘I’ll bet that’s not all you’ve lost, by the look of things! Oh, I’ve had my suspicions about you and him for a long time!’

Matt
snapped, ‘Don’t talk rubbish!’


Rubbish?’ Fleur laughed, jeering. ‘All those times you were late coming home and said you were working! No wonder you hung around this place so much and so long, with her and her bairn! I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the father!’


That’s enough!’ Matt grabbed her shoulders as he had Katy’s but this was no gentle grip. Fleur squeaked as his fingers dug into her but he ignored that and rushed her across to the Vauxhall.

Fleur
shouted, ‘It’s true, isn’t it?’


No! It isn’t!’ And that came from Annie now standing at the office door. For a second they stared at her and she was able to put in: ‘It isn’t true because I was waiting here. Katy just got back and she’s heartbroken, anybody can see that. Matt was only giving her the comfort any decent man would.’ Her angry stare caught Fleur and she told her, ‘So don’t you go making slanderous remarks or Katy can have the law on you.’

That
silenced Fleur and Matt shoved her up into the Vauxhall. As he drove it away he turned his head once to stare back at Katy. Then he swung the motor car out of the gateway and was gone.

Katy,
slumping, watched him go. Annie grumbled, ‘When he came down here he told her it was to tidy up some odds and ends before he went for a soldier. But when he heard what had happened to Louise and how you were looking for her, he stayed on. She must have wondered why he was so long and come down here for him. But don’t you take any notice of what she said; that woman has a poisonous tongue. She ought to be ashamed of herself. But I know the sort o’ lass you are and it’s not the sort she said. She was talking a pack o’ lies.’

They
entered the office, Annie still chattering, ‘I would ha’ been out sooner but I was keeping an eye on Beatrice —she’s upstairs and ready for bed.’

An
open envelope lay on the desk, a letter beside it. Katy glanced at it as Annie commented, ‘He said that was for the bank.’ It was an authority for Fleur to draw from the firm’s account while Matt was away. Katy dropped it on the desk. It would have to wait until the bank opened.

Katy
got through the rest of that terrible day and went to bed in the room beside Beatrice but without Louise. She was conscious of the missing child, that Matt had gone, and God only knew when — if — either would come back to her. Her weary mind trudged again and again over the disasters of that awful day as if on a treadmill. She realised Howard Ross had timed the abduction and his escape almost to the minute. The German ship had been dropping down the Tyne on her way to the sea while Katy was still trundling around the countryside doing Harry Rogers’ job.

Annie
had said Fleur had talked a pack of lies when she accused Katy and Matt of being lovers. But Fleur had been right.

Katy
had known it and so had Matt when he briefly held her in his arms.

The
ultimatum to Germany expired at eleven that night. As Katy had dreaded, it had come to war and her daughter was somewhere on the other side of the battle lines. All communication with Germany now was through neutral countries. She would have tramped barefoot through the length and breadth of Europe to find her child, but while Holland or Switzerland would have passed her through, as soon as she set foot in Germany she would be locked up as an enemy alien, to spend the rest of the war behind bars.

Katy
was powerless and she recalled Annie’s talk of living trapped inside a bottle. Trying to find Louise was like climbing a glass wall and Katy wept into her pillow night after night. Nevertheless, over the following months she pleaded with her Member of Parliament and wrote frantically to everyone she thought might help, but without result. The war was that wall of glass between herself and Louise.

She
was not to know how long she would fret and grieve for her daughter, and her frustration at being unable to act was a recurring torment.


Louise . . .
Louise
!

And:
‘Matt

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

MONKWEARMOUTH. DECEMBER 1914.


You be careful when you’re out today!’ Annie issued the warning as Katy opened the gate to let her into the yard. The older woman had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders over the winter coat she wore. Her breath steamed on the winter air and frost glistened and sparkled on the road behind her and on the yard.


I will, don’t worry.’ Katy swung the gates wide and wedged them open, then she and Annie walked up the yard to the office. Katy wore overalls, the legs of them showing under her heavy coat. From the corner of her eye she saw Annie’s disapproving glance but was used to it now. She had seen that look numerous times each day since she had first worn the overalls two weeks ago. She had ignored it every time because now she spent all her working days behind the wheel of the Dennis. There was only one now, the first she and Matt had bought when they started the partnership. The others, all purchased under the War Office Subsidy Scheme, had been claimed by the Army. The War Office had paid compensation, of course, but the bank had taken back the money loaned to buy them. Little capital was left and money did not carry any loads. It sat in the bank and earned interest — or was spent. And that was another story.


Good morning, Ernie!’ Katy halted outside the office and called as he came in through the gates. His skinny body was now bulky with an old raincoat and several ragged pullovers. He was blue-nosed with the cold.


Morning, Mrs Merrick.’ Ernie sniffed. ‘Shall I start her?’


Aye, get her warmed up, please.’

Ernie
said lugubriously, ‘That’s what we all want this morning.’


That’s true.’ Katy laughed as she watched him cross the yard to the garage. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute or two.’ Ernie Thompson could not drive but he was able to start the Dennis. Katy was grateful for him as he cranked the starting handle and the engine burst into life. She reflected wryly that if the Army had left her the lorries there would have been no one to drive them. Ernie was the only man left to her. All the others had joined one or other of the fighting services. Ernie had volunteered with the rest, despite his brood, but the doctors had turned him down because of his flat feet.

Katy
joined Annie in the office. While Katy was driving out on the roads, Annie now looked after the office and answered any enquiries for work. Beatrice was also there, seated at the desk and reading a book. She was ready for school, bundled up warmly with a thick muffler around her neck and would be leaving in a few minutes. She had asked about Louise several times, curious as to where she was and when she would return. Katy had answered brightly that Louise had gone to visit an uncle and would be back when the war was over. She managed to smile while giving this explanation, not wanting to worry the child, but afterwards she was tearful.

Now
Katy smiled again: ‘All ready, Bea?’


Um,’ answered Beatrice, her nose in the book.

Off
you go, then. Give Annie and me a kiss.’ And as Beatrice obeyed, Katy added, ‘Be careful how you walk because the streets are very icy this morning. And come straight home at twelve o’clock—’

Beatrice
cut in: ‘Because Annie will have my dinner ready. Yes, I know.’

Katy
smacked her bottom lightly but chuckled, ‘Don’t be cheeky.’ She watched, fondly, as the little girl she regarded as a daughter crossed the yard and turned into the street.

Annie
said behind her, equally fondly, ‘There’s not much wrong with that one.’ And then: ‘Here’s the postman.’ He came up the yard with a handful of letters held in fingerless gloves, his nose as blue as Ernie’s. Katy took the letters and shuffled through them quickly with the daily surge of hope, but none had come from Germany by way of neutral Switzerland. They were all relating to the business.

Annie
asked, ‘Nothing about Louise?’


No.’

Annie
started, ‘That Howard Ross! I’d like to—’ She stopped her usual diatribe, remembering it hurt Katy. Then she went on gently, ‘Nothing from Matt, either?’

Katy
turned away so that Annie could not see her face. ‘No.’


He’s still on Salisbury Plain, then.’


I suppose so.’ Katy had sent several letters to Matt, businesslike missives detailing how the Army had taken the lorries — and the men. Matt had written only once. A week after he had left, Katy received a picture postcard of Stonehenge. In a few words on the back he had said he was living under canvas on the Plain. He was well but the food was awful. It might have come from any soldier — to anyone. There had been nothing since and Katy knew why.


We never see anything of
her
.

Annie’s tone was sour.

Katy
knew Annie always referred to Fleur that way. ‘No.’ Katy was not going to be drawn. Fleur had never come to the yard since her vitriolic outburst but Katy knew that she had been left a generous allowance by Matt — all his share of the profits from the firm, in fact — and that she was drawing it up to the hilt. Moreover Fleur’s name was frequently mentioned when the newspapers reported charity events, balls and suchlike, held to raise funds for comforts for the servicemen. Katy had also seen her out walking in the company of various young officers.

She
said briskly, ‘It’s time we started.’ The Dennis was ticking over with Ernie’s hand on the throttle. Katy crossed the yard, checked the oil pressure gauge and took

off
the radiator cap to see that the water was circulating. Satisfied, she climbed up into the driver’s seat as Ernie moved over to make room for her. A wave to Annie where she stood at the office door and then she drove out of the gates on the first job of the day. As she steered the Dennis between the gates she wondered bitterly if Fleur ever thought of Matt.

At
that moment, Fleur did not, but that was to change. She was woken by the hammering of the big brass knocker on the front door. She stirred sleepily and murmured, See who that is, darling.’

The
major was a recalled reservist, too old for active service but still energetic and his money also attracted Fleur. Now he was reluctant to move. The fire in the bedroom grate was almost out and he could see the frost on the outside of the window. ‘Let your maid do it. I’ve got a better idea.’ He began exploring again.

Fleur
giggled, ‘No! She doesn’t come in for another half-hour and I want you out of here before then. I’ve got my reputation to think of. Now go and see who it is — and I’ll be nice to you before you leave.’

The
major would settle for that. He slid out of bed and pulled on shirt and trousers as the knocking came again. He bellowed, ‘All right!’ Then padded down the stairs in his bare feet and opened the front door.

The
boy standing outside wore a pillbox cap and a leather belt and pouch around his waist. His face was pinched with the cold and he held out the buff envelope: ‘Telegram for Mrs Ballard.’

The
major fumbled in his trousers pocket for coins

and
tossed a penny to the boy, who snatched it out of the air. ‘Thank ye, sir!’

Fleur
stretched and smiled as the major returned. Then she saw the envelope: ‘A telegram?’


You can read it later.’ His hands fumbled at her but she shoved them aside.


Give it to me!’ Fleur snatched the envelope, ripped it open and scanned the message inside. Damn!’ She balled the buff flimsy and threw back the bed clothes. At sight of her nakedness the major reached out for her again but she slapped his hands away and brushed past him: ‘Get dressed and out of here! My husband’s on his way home!’ The major fielded the clothes she tossed at him and stood gaping at her with his shirt-tails hanging outside his trousers and his braces dangling. Until Fleur shouted, ‘He sent that telegram as he was getting on the train at King’s Cross! He might walk in any minute!’ That was an exaggeration but Fleur wanted him out of her house and it worked. Thoughts of an angry husband hastened the major in his dressing. They were ready for the street together but left separately, she by the front door and the major by the back.

Fleur
would have taken a cab to the station but did not see one and had to use the tram. As it clanked and ground into the town she tried to pull her jumbled thoughts together. The telegram had come as a shock. She had virtually forgotten about Matt, only thought of him occasionally and absently as she pursued her life of pleasure. She had known that he would be given leave at some point but that was in the future and possibly the distant future at that. In truth she did not care when he came home because she was having a good time and his arrival now would spoil it. She did not want him. She was sure that he had been ‘carrying on’ with Katy Merrick and that had enraged her. When he went back to the Army they had parted in a cold silence. He had written several times but she had not. She needed the money he allowed her but not him. He had been her escort in the days of peace and his success had given her a key to society, but now there were other men to take her to dances and soirées.

So
Fleur considered how she should treat this nuisance of a husband and decided to be outwardly sweet and forgiving, to submit to his advances. She was sure there would be advances; he had been away for four months. She felt a little thrill of excited anticipation then, began to look forward to the coming of this big man. She could use his hunger to manipulate him, as she had done with others. Besides, it would only be for a week or so and then she could go on with her life of dalliance.

She
stood on the platform as the train puffed into the station with a sigh of steam and rattling of couplings, a grinding of brakes. The men were hanging out of the windows, eager for it to stop. Most were in khaki but there were some in the dark blue of the Navy. As the train halted they spilled out of the carriages into the arms of the waiting women who thronged the platform. Fleur looked for Matt and soon spotted his head above the crowd around him. She waved her handkerchief and smiled tentatively. He smiled in return but it was mechanical. When they met among the embracing couples they did not touch except for the peck Fleur planted on his cheek. He was unshaven from travelling through the night and his stubble scraped her. She noted the three stripes on his sleeve. She had forgotten he was a sergeant and that it would be awkward. In the circles in which she now moved she had become used to walking on the arms of officers. A sergeant would be out of place. She would just have to stay at home.

Irritated,
she said, ‘So there you are.’

Matt
sensed a coldness and tried to ignore it. ‘Aye, the bad penny.’

Fleur
smiled politely. ‘Will you get us a cab?’

They
found a horse-drawn cab outside the station and sat facing each other, Matt’s pack on the seat beside him. They conversed politely as the cab took them home and Matt knew then it had all gone to hell but he still tried. During the long nights on the Plain he had told himself he had loved this woman and married her, sworn fidelity and much besides. He would not throw that aside. And when they were in the house Fleur put her arms around him and whispered, ‘It’s good to have you home.’ But then she added, ‘I forgive you.’


Forgive me?’ Matt stared down at her. ‘What for?’ ‘When I found you with that woman.’

Matt
’s face stiffened. ‘I explained about that. There was nothing to forgive.’

Fleur
’s arms slipped away and she stepped back from him. ‘It wasn’t explained to my satisfaction.’

Matt
took a breath, swallowing the first angry retort.

He
insisted, ‘I told you, there was nothing between me and Katy, not all the time we worked together.’

Fleur
sniffed, ‘I saw how she clung to you.’


She needed to cling to somebody,
anybody
! The girl had just lost her child, stolen by her father!’

Fleur
laughed without humour. ‘That’s her story.
If
he was the father. You never know with that sort of woman.’

Matt,
outraged, snapped, ‘I won’t have you talking about her like that! She’s not “that sort of woman”!’

Fleur
shrugged, pouting, ‘If you say so.’ And remembering how he had hungered for her, said, ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I have a migraine. I’m going to lie down.’ She looked for disappointment in his face, thought he might plead, but she was the one to be disappointed when Matt said, ‘Of course.’

Fleur
turned at the door to have the last word: ‘Will you use the spare room? I haven’t been sleeping well lately.’ Then she left without waiting for an answer.

Matt
stared bleakly at the closed door. He did not want her.

He
dined with his wife that night and breakfasted with her the next day, then told her, ‘I’m going down to the yard.’

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