A Mother's Gift Read online

  ‘Leave the lass alone, I’ll get it,’ said Gran, suddenly noticing Katie’s white face. She got to her feet and stood, swaying alarmingly.

  ‘Now then, you sit down before you fall down,’ Hannah advised kindly. ‘Katie’s a strong lass, she can manage. Can’t you, Katie?’

  Katie nodded and cut a couple of slices of the slab cake, the kind that was always supplied by the Co-op store as part of their funeral tea. The store had taken care of everything, arranging the funeral, cars, chapel service, minister and cemetery plot and also, the tea. For a discount, of course, in a sad case like this one.

  Katie was trying not to think of the funeral tea that was going on at the same time in the next street in the Wrights’ house. She had managed to slip in for a few minutes to pay her respects but it was all so unreal.

  ‘Don’t upset me mam any more than she is!’ June had snapped when she saw Katie at the door. ‘I thought you’d be busy with your grandda’s funeral, any road?’

  ‘I’ve just called for a minute,’ said Katie.

  ‘Aye well, I don’t think you should go in, me man and dad are in a state as it is. I’ll tell them you called, will I?’

  Katie had stumbled back down the yard, her feelings too frozen even to cry.

  She looked around the Room now as she handed over the slab cake. Most of the visitors had already gone, thank goodness. Soon Gran would be able to relax.

  ‘Will you watch her while I get my things ready to go back to the hospital, Mam?’ she asked softly so that Gran didn’t hear, hating having to ask. ‘Only I must go back-’

  ‘Oh, aye, hadaway, get on back to Teesside,’ said Hannah. ‘I’m sure you’ll be glad to leave all this misery behind you—’ She stopped speaking, as there was a loud knock at the door. Everyone turned to look for it was the front door, unused for months until today when the coffin holding the remains of the master of the house had been carried out to the hearse.

  Who was it? No one asked but the question hung in the air. No one went to the door until Kitty roused herself.

  ‘Answer the front door, pet, will you?’

  Katie put down the plate of cake and went to the door and opened it. It opened easily for she had oiled it especially for the day.

  ‘Miss Benfield? If you’re ready we will go now.’ Matthew looked round at the gathering, most of them round-eyed and staring at him and stepped back on to the path. ‘I’ll wait in the car, shall I?’

  The mining folk still left in the house were struck dumb. They stared at the big boss, for by now they knew him for the ironmaster who owned most of the pits round about. Mrs Wearmouth from up the street even held her cup halfway between her saucer and her mouth and the mouth was hanging open. Everything about the toff, his dress, his air of health and well-being stood out in contrast to them and in this mean little room the contrast stood out sharper than ever.

  Chapter Fourteen

  KATIE SAT IN the front seat beside Matthew Hamilton and stared at the road stretching out before the car. Vaguely, in the back of her mind she was aware that she should have been overcome with embarrassment when he had shown up at her grandmother’s house like that. But it didn’t matter, nothing mattered now.

  ‘Are you warm enough? I can turn the heater up.’ Matthew took one hand off the wheel and moved it towards the dashboard.

  ‘Thank you, I’m warm,’ said Katie. She looked at his hand in the glimmer of light from outside. It was square and capable looking, the nails cut straight across and there was black hair protruding below the cuff of his shirt. Not the hands of a miner yet not the hands of someone who did no manual work either. If he could drive, why did he employ a chauffeur? Was it for prestige?

  If she kept her mind on small unimportant things she found she could keep the deep, painful misery at bay, behind a mental wall, somehow. She was tired to exhaustion point and beyond yet she could not stop her mind working, restlessly ranging about. She closed her eyes but it felt as though there was sand under the lids and it scratched and stung so she opened them again. She hadn’t noticed this was not the Darlington road until then. She roused herself to ask.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Why, back to the hospital, of course,’ he said smoothly.

  ‘But this is not—’

  ‘Yes it is. This way we cross the North Road and go through Sedgefield. It’s no further, just an alternative route. I like to vary my routes.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ She remembered the road now; they were passing Windlestone Hall, the home of the Eden family. Katie took no further interest in her surroundings but relapsed into seeming apathy. Her concentration had been breached and the agony threatened to overwhelm her yet again.

  Matthew looked across at her. Her face was so white and set in the light from passing headlights. For a moment her head fell forward, and she trembled violently. She wasn’t going to pass out on him, was she? He pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped the engine. With a visible effort she straightened up and clamped her jaw against the trembling.

  ‘Katie, Katie,’ he said gently and leaned over to her and took her in his arms, pulling her head down on his shoulder. She was tense and unyielding though she didn’t draw away.

  ‘Katie, Katie,’ he said again. His lips brushed against her hair. Beneath his hands he could feel her trembling increase. And then she cried.

  She could hold out no more, her whole body relaxed, slackened and she leaned against him and wept. Silently at first, then with heart-broken sobs and copious tears which wet his chest through to the skin.

  A surge of jealousy went through him. He kept perfectly still, holding her. Was she weeping for her grandfather? Or for the sweetheart he had found out she was meeting, the miner’s get. A surveyor was all he had been! What could he have given a girl like Katie? Nothing! Nothing compared to what he could himself, wife or not. His grip on the girl tightened, he could make her forget, he could indeed.

  Looking out at the night he realised they were almost to the turn-off for Hartlepool, it would only take a few minutes to get there. He gently eased her back into her seat and started the engine. Katie hardly noticed, she was beyond taking notice of anything.

  Within half an hour he had them booked into a small hotel to the south of the town. The night receptionist did not query his entry in the book after he saw Katie, drooping against Matthew so that he had almost to carry her in.

  ‘My wife is not well,’ Matthew said anyway.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, I can send for a doctor if you wish it,’ the man replied, sympathetically. Indeed the wife looked as though she might be at death’s door, he thought, and very young too.

  ‘No, she will be fine after a good night’s sleep. She suffers from weak nerves.’

  Oh that, the receptionist said to himself. Not anything dangerous then. The women from round the docks where he came from couldn’t afford the luxury of nerves.

  ‘What time would you like to be called in the morning, sir?’

  ‘Eight. Goodnight then.’ Tomorrow he had arranged to go over the books at the works.

  Once in the room, he sat Katie on the side of the bed and took off her shoes. She promptly fell down against the pillows and closed her eyes. He took off his coat and shoes and lay down beside and took her in his arms again.

  ‘I’ll look after you, Katie, I swear I will,’ he whispered in her ear and she murmured something. She didn’t object or even open her eyes as he undressed her and then himself and pulled the eiderdown over them both. He kissed her eyes, and let his lips travel down, kissed her mouth, the hollow of her neck and the top of her breasts and cupped her bottom with one hand, drawing her even closer to him.

  Katie did not open her eyes, she snuggled to him. She was dreaming of Billy. They were in the engine house of the old aerial flight and he had drawn her to the ground and, miraculously, the bed of leaves felt as soft as a feather mattress and as warm. This time, she would let him. The delightful thought floated through her dream. When he ki
ssed her lips she kissed him back, felt his tongue in her mouth and it was sweet and exciting. There were strange sensations in the pit of her belly and they were swelling and rising and she felt the blood rushing through her veins and it was hot and surging.

  ‘Billy,’ she whispered.

  ‘Billy be buggered,’ said Matthew savagely. But yet he was gentle as he took her nipple into his mouth. Mary Anne would not have recognised him or his lovemaking.

  Home Sister was knocking at the door. Through the woolly folds of sleep Katie could hear the knocking. And the voice calling.

  ‘Eight o’clock, sir, madam.’

  No, Home Sister would never have said that. She must have said it was six o’clock, that was it.

  ‘Thank you Sister,’ she called back though it came out as little more than a murmur.

  ‘Righto?’ It was a man’s voice.

  Katie turned over on her back and opened her eyes. This was not her narrow room in the Nurses’ Home. Where was she? But that question didn’t matter much as memory flooded back. Memories of yesterday and the funerals and worse. Grandda was dead. Billy was dead. They had been killed in the pit. What was that expression the Victorian coroners had used to put in the ledgers? ‘Burnt in the pit,’ that was it. Nothing else, that was enough, no investigation needed and it was neat and tidy at least. Katie closed her eyes and the agony washed over her again.

  ‘Katie, come on, Katie, it’s not so bad.’

  Katie’s eyes flew open. Mr Hamilton was sitting on the side of her bed in his shirtsleeves. Still disorientated, she stared at him. There were hairs coming out of his ears, she noted abstractedly.

  ‘I won’t let you down,’ he said. ‘I’ll look after you.’

  Katie sat up suddenly, clutching at the eiderdown. ‘What am I doing here?’ But she knew the answer. Memories of the evening before were coming back to her, fragmented and as in a dream. It wasn’t a dream though; her muscles ached and her breasts were sore.

  ‘Go away,’ she said.

  ‘Come on now, be sensible. I said it’s not so bad and it isn’t.’

  ‘Not so bad? What do you mean not so bad when my Billy is dead and my grandda an’ all! And you, all you wanted was to get me into bed. You took advantage when I was down, when I didn’t know what I was doing—’ Katie stopped for a moment, unable to go on. Then she said, struggling to keep her voice even, ‘By, you might be the big boss but you’re a rotten sod, Matthew Hamilton.’

  ‘It was a terrible accident killed them, it wasn’t my fault. But life goes on, Katie,’ he said tritely. ‘But be honest Katie. You wanted it as much as I did, you led me on.’ Surreptitiously he looked at the gold watch on his wrist. ‘I have to go, Katie, and so have you. I’ll be in touch, never fear. We’ll talk about this later.’

  But the passion had gone out of Katie. What did any of it matter any more? Her future had died with Billy.

  ‘Five past eight.’ The voice of the chambermaid came through the door.

  ‘Oh!’ Katie got out of bed and began to pull on her clothes. ‘I might as well go to work. I was supposed to be on duty at seven-thirty.’ Even her enthusiasm; for nursing had gone but she might as well get on with it.

  Matthew sighed. ‘All right, I’ll drop you there.’

  Within ten minutes they were in the car and driving out of Hartlepool. Katie was still in such a state of shock she couldn’t think straight and she didn’t even try. Everything was strange and unreal to her. She could only hold on to one thought at a time and at the moment it was that she was late reporting for duty on the ward. When they reached the hospital she got out without a backward glance and sprinted up the drive to the Nurses’ Home and changed into her uniform. She walked swiftly along the corridor to the ward (running forbidden except in cases of fire or dire emergency), knocked at the door of Sister’s office and went in when bidden.

  ‘Yes Nurse?’ Sister looked up from the notes she was studying.

  ‘I’m sorry I’m late, Sister,’ said Katie and Sister looked sternly at her over her pince-nez.

  ‘Not only are you late, Nurse, you’re on the wrong ward,’ she observed. ‘Or perhaps you have forgotten you have been transferred to A Ward.’

  ‘Oh!’ Katie gasped and turned to fumble blindly with the door handle. ‘I’m sorry, Sister.’

  Sister gazed at her. Of course she knew of the tragedy at Winton Colliery, everyone did. In her opinion, Katie should not have been expected back to work yet, she was obviously badly shocked. She got to her feet and went over to the girl. ‘You look ill, Nurse,’ she said. ‘I think you should be reporting to the sick bay.’

  ‘No, I’ll be fine,’ said Katie, managing to open the door at last. If only this white fog that surrounded her would go away, she thought.

  ‘No, you won’t, Nurse,’ Sister replied firmly. ‘Now sit down while I call Staff Nurse. She will take you there.’

  It was a good thing he was blessed with the sort of mind which could keep things in separate compartments, thought Matthew as he sat back in his chair after a management meeting. For though his mind had been totally on the business in hand for the whole of the morning, as soon as the last man had left the boardroom his thoughts reverted to Katie Benfield.

  It was almost one o’clock, he should go to lunch at home with Mary Anne, see how she was, for after all she could be carrying his son and heir. The trouble was he didn’t want to, he wanted to go to the hospital and seek out Katie and take her to lunch. Surely she had a dinner hour like everyone else? No, if he remembered correctly from his days in hospital, the nurses had only thirty minutes. Damn. He fiddled with his fountain pen, doodled with his blotter.

  It had been good last night, very good. She had responded to him in a way he hadn’t dreamed she would. There had been that bad moment when she called him by another name, Billy, her dead sweetheart. Well, he would soon make her forget about Billy.

  Matthew was slightly surprised at himself, usually when he achieved his objective with a girl like Katie he lost interest. Perhaps he would be making a mistake if he saw her again. There were plenty of other girls. But not like Katie.

  He clipped his pen into his top pocket and rose to his feet. What the hell, he would go back to the Hall for lunch and see Mary Anne. There was no sense in letting a pit wench think she had a hold over you. No, the best thing was to forget about Katie, at least for a while.

  ‘John, is the master in?’

  The grandfather clock in the hall was chiming one as Mary Anne ventured out of her room and came down the stairs, holding firmly on to the banister. John, who happened to be crossing the hall at that moment, looked up at her. Heck, she looked pale and drawn and tired to death even though she had only just risen. But then, breeding took some females like that, he knew.

  ‘No madam, not yet. May I ask if he is expected?’

  ‘I think so.’ Mary Anne almost asked if Matthew had rung to say he would be home but she stopped herself. The servants pitied her; she was well aware of it and was humiliated by it. Even now she thought she could see pity in John’s eyes. ‘Well, tell Cook I will wait another half-hour before starting. Perhaps he is delayed at the works.’

  ‘Yes, madam.’

  Mary Anne went into the drawing-room and walked over to the fireplace. There was a good fire burning but she shivered a little, she seemed to feel the cold so badly, especially since her last miscarriage. She put a hand protectively on her belly, oh God, she wasn’t going to think of miscarriages, this baby she was going to carry for the whole nine months, and she was determined. She thought about Matthew as she held her hands to the blaze, he hadn’t returned last night and staying out all night usually meant he came home for lunch. It was just a sort of sop to her feelings but still it showed he wasn’t completely uncaring.

  Mary Anne sat down on the sofa and picked up her embroidery. She was sewing a cross-stitch picture for the nursery, a picture of Peter Pan and Wendy, flying through the air under a starlit sky. She would have liked to be sewing a
layette for the baby coming (and it would come, he would come, oh yes, he would), but she couldn’t get rid of the superstition that having a layette all ready would offend the gods. She was well aware of the contradiction in the two thoughts but still …

  She heard the front door open, Matthew’s deep tones as he spoke to John and John answering. Quickly she put down her embroidery and rose to her feet though in truth she was hardly aware of it.

  ‘Matthew,’ she said as he opened the door and walked over to her, pecking her on the cheek and holding his hands out to the blaze almost in the same instant.

  ‘Good day, Mary Anne,’ he answered. She smelled a little of lavender water, a scent he had always associated with old ladies. Her breath was bad too, not exactly foul but unpleasant. Well, she had bouts of indigestion with this pregnancy of course. He should not be too critical; he didn’t want to upset her. Poor cow, he thought. It was amazing how last night had put him in a more sympathetic mood.

  ‘I’ll ring for lunch shall I?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, of course, I’m famished,’ said Matthew.

  ‘Where did you spend the night? I hope you had a proper breakfast,’ she said and immediately his mood changed at the idea that she was questioning him.

  ‘Where do you think I spent the night, Mary Anne? In the arms of some floozies? Have you forgotten that there was a mining disaster at one of my mines and it was the funerals yesterday? Or did you think I shouldn’t bother about a few dead men, after all they were only miners,’ he barked.

  ‘Oh, no, I’m sorry, Matthew, I didn’t mean—’ she looked at his angry face. Of course he was upset having to witness the results of the accident, the distress of the mourners at the funerals too. But why had he had to spend the night there? She decided not to ask, after all, there must have been a good reason or he would have come home to his comfortable bed.