The Miner’s Girl (31 page)

‘It wouldn't be like that,' he said lamely but he knew it would. That was exactly how his father thought about the pit folk, with contempt. ‘I'm sorry, Merry. I'm sorry you were hurt. Oh, what a mess we've made of everything!'

Merry stared at the cooling tea in her cup. There were so many questions left unanswered and yet just at this minute she couldn't think of one of them.

‘I have to go,' she murmured, for suddenly it felt very stuffy in the teashop and anyway Benjamin had finished his cake and glass of milk and was getting restless.

‘Come for a walk,' said Tom. ‘Come down the park or along by the river to the dam head. The fresh air will be good for Benjamin.' He had the feeling that if he let her go now he might not see her again, or at least not for years.

‘I can't. We have to buy trousers and shirts for Benjamin. That's why we are here.'

‘Oh Mam, I want to go to the park,' the boy cried.

‘We haven't time, you know I have to be back to answer the telephone,' she replied.

‘I will come with you then,' Tom put in quickly. ‘I haven't to be back in Durham until tonight. You can do your shopping and then I'll take you home. I have the car and I'll drive you.'

Benjamin's face lit up. ‘You've got a motor? Can I sit next to you? Please?'

‘We have return tickets on the horse bus,' said Merry.

‘Mam!' Benjamin looked shocked that she could deny him a ride in a real motor car. Dr Macready just had a horse and trap, and Mrs Macready a governess cart and an ancient pony.

Tom smiled; he knew by the weakening expression on Merry's face that he had won. He paid the bill at the desk and they went up the stairs to the drapery department. All the time Benjamin chatted, even when he was being fitted for trousers for his new school.

‘I'm going to the Friends' School at Great Ayton next term,' he said proudly. ‘I'm going a term early, aren't I, Mam? I've got a scholarship.'

‘The Friends' School, eh? Gosh, you must be very clever,' said Tom, sounding awed and Benjamin grinned happily.

‘He wouldn't have been able to go if it hadn't been for Dr Macready,' said Merry. ‘Well, actually it was Mrs Macready who showed me how to go about it. She says he is very clever and will be a talented artist one day if he works hard.' Merry still couldn't believe it was happening. Not so long ago it would have been unthinkable for Benjamin to go to such a school – even if he had a scholarship she would never have been able to afford the uniform. However the Macreadys had offered to help out and how could she refuse when it was such a good chance for the boy? But Merry said none of this to Tom.

After they had finished the shopping Tom led the way out to where the Wolsey was parked. He was full of questions he needed answers to, the most important to his mind being the one concerning her husband.

‘Where do you live now?' he asked as he picked up the starting handle ready to crank up the engine. ‘Eden Hope, isn't it?'

‘No, just outside Winton Colliery. We live in the flat above Dr Macready's surgery. I work for him, as a nurse really. I help him in the surgery.'

Tom had to ask whether the boy was there or not. ‘What about your husband? You married Robert Wright, didn't you?'

Merry glanced swiftly at Benjamin but he was so absorbed in looking at everything about the car that he was taking no interest in what the grown-ups were saying.

‘I left him,' she said tersely. ‘And I don't want to talk about it as it upsets him.' She nodded at Benjamin.

‘All right, we won't,' said Tom, his tone bright and conversational. He turned to the boy and began to explain and demonstrate to him how he used the handle to start the engine; Benjamin listened with his head on one side. He explained how the brake worked and the hand lever that changed the gears; Benjamin kept very quiet, taking everything in.

Eventually they drove down Newgate Street and on to Durham Road. When Tom said it was important to go slowly and as quietly as possible past any horses on the road for fear of alarming them, Benjamin nodded sagely.

‘I
was
ill, you know,' said Tom as though he thought she wouldn't believe him. They had left the town and were bowling along the country road which led to the village. ‘I wasn't myself for weeks. Then when I recovered and looked for you I discovered you were married.'

Merry closed her eyes for a moment in anguish. If only she had known, if only she had waited. All she and Benjamin had gone through could have been avoided if she had had the courage to have him on her own. But she hadn't and she had paid the price all right.

Benjamin was sitting there in his father's car if he but knew it, delirious with pride and happiness at the unexpected treat. And he looked so like Tom that everyone would know when they were seen together. After all, it was years since Ben had been seen around here, so no one would think the boy took after him. This should have rung warning bells in her mind as they were approaching Winton Colliery, but it didn't for she was in such a bemused state of mind herself. Despite the fact that Benjamin was sitting between them there was something there, connecting them. Something warm and heady and electric and it was clouding her brain. She had to hold it at bay, so she turned and stared out at the passing countryside.

They drove past the end of the rows and up the gentle incline beyond the pit yard. There were few people
about anyway though unluckily the horse bus from Eden Hope passed them just beyond the colliery and everyone on it stared out of the windows at the motor car and its occupants.

Doris Wright and Annie Suggett were sitting halfway down the bus and they both turned and watched the car as it chugged along.

‘Did you see that?' gasped Doris.

‘I did,' Annie replied.

‘Not the car,' said Doris. ‘That was Merry and her by-blow with Dr Gallagher! You remember, he was doctor at Winton before Dr Macready.'

‘Yes, I know,' said Annie.

‘Aye, but did you see how like he is to that lad of hers?' demanded Doris. ‘Do you know, I thought he looked familiar somehow.'

Meanwhile, Tom was drawing up in front of Dr Macready's house. ‘We have a lot to talk about, Merry,' he said. ‘I want to know everything that has happened.'

‘Well, you should have come sooner!' It burst out of her as she fumbled with the door catch, unable to open it.

Tom got out, walked round to her side and opened it for her and the boy to alight. ‘Your mother and I have to talk,' he said to Benjamin who was hovering round the car, unwilling to leave it.

‘I have to man the telephone,' said Merry.

‘Then may I come in?'

Benjamin had run off around the back of the surgery to see if Kirsty was in, bursting to tell her about his ride in the motor car. Reluctantly Merry allowed Tom to carry her parcels and led the way up the stairs to her flat. He dumped the parcels on the table and came to her and she took a step back.

‘Listen, Merry, I can explain everything,' he said. ‘I did come looking for you when I was well enough but you were gone from Old Pit. And then I found out you were living at Eden Hope, and had married Robbie Wright. What could I do? I moved to—' He was interrupted by the telephone ringing.

‘I have to answer that,' said Merry and went out to the landing where the telephone extension from the surgery was. Tom could hear her talking in a low voice and fumed impatiently.

‘I have to tell Dr Macready, there's an urgent callout. I'm sorry but you'll have to go.'

‘But—' Tom began but she was already turning for the stairs and so he hurried after her.

‘All right,' he said. ‘I have to go too as I must get back to my practice. But I'll be back, I promise you I'll be back, first chance I get.'

‘Will you?' said Merry and it was not a question.

‘I will.'

She watched as he cranked the motor and climbed in. Then she turned and went to the house to call Dr Macready. For all her bitterness she knew there was still a powerful attraction between them – she couldn't bear the thought of all the heartache if he were to let her down.

‘Why don't you give in your notice to Arthur Bolton?' Bertha demanded. They had been sitting at breakfast in what had been her father's house and was now hers. The coroner's verdict upon her father had been accidental death and he had been buried the day before. In the afternoon his will had been read and, as expected he had left everything to his daughter with the proviso that Miles should have control of the mine.

‘Notice? Why on earth should I give notice?'

Miles looked up from his perusal of
The Times
with an expression of astonishment, though in fact he had been expecting it.

‘Because we have this place now,' said Bertha with uncharacteristic patience. ‘Why should we live over by Winton when we have this lovely house here?'

‘You can keep on this house anyway.'

‘Miles, what is the point in keeping two houses?'

Miles folded his paper and put it on the table. ‘I don't want to discuss this now. I have to go to Eden Hope as I have business with the manager. After that I have an appointment in Durham City. If it gets too late in the day I will stay at Tom's.' He paused for a moment and considered his wife. She was pale, the only colour on her face was the tip of her bright red nose. ‘Besides, it is too soon to come to any decisions – you are still overwrought my dear,' he added.

Bertha erupted. ‘We'll talk about it now! This is my house and I won't be told to shut up, do you hear me?'

‘I should think they could hear you in the kitchen,' said Miles. He rose to his feet and walked to the door. ‘I'll send Rose in to you. I told you that you were overwrought.'

Bertha, even more infuriated, was left shouting after him but he wasn't in the mood to listen.

‘I'll take the trap, John,' he said to the stableman. ‘The mistress might want the carriage.'

‘Yes sir.'

John, who had been Mr Porritt's stableman, backed the pony between the shafts and saw to the traces. There was something about Miles he didn't like – he had been too eager to take over from the master in John's opinion.

Mr Porritt might have been an old man but he had been a working mine owner for a lot of years and before that he had been fond of telling folk that he had started
down the pit as a boy of six. The miners John met in the Pit Laddie tavern in the village had shaken their heads when they heard of the accident. Of course accidents happened – they were acts of God or the result of carelessness – but there had been something not right about that one.

Old Porritt was well able to read the coal face, aye, and listen to it to, at least as well as any of the old men who had spent their lives underground. And he would be very aware of outworn pit props.

One of the aged miners had quoted from the rhyme that every pitman learned as a young lad.

Still, when did coroners take notice of the likes of pitmen? John thought about it as he watched Miles drive out of the gates and take the road to Bishop Auckland. But there was nothing he or the miners could do anyway, no matter what they thought. Even so, Miles Gallagher should have looked out for the old man, at least.

Miles took the train to Durham, leaving his pony and trap in the station stables at Auckland. He was quite happy and confident for his master plan was going well so far, the worst part already over. Now he felt he had earned
himself some relaxation. He left the train at Durham and took a cab to Silver Street. Once there he walked the rest of the way to his destination, which was down one of the streets leading down from the other side of the market place – a small house with nothing about its outward appearance to show what it was.

His discreet knock was answered almost immediately and he was drawn inside by a maid in white cap and apron who dropped a quick curtsey.

‘Good afternoon, sir,' she said as she closed the door after him. ‘Who do you wish me to call?'

‘Er, Lysette, I think,' he replied.

It was almost five o'clock when Miles emerged from the house and walked back towards the market place. Ben was sitting in a teashop close by the town hall waiting patiently. He had been shadowing Miles since he had returned to the country and by now he had worked out some sort of pattern. Miles strolled along over the cobbles and passed by on the opposite side of the statue of Lord Londonderry that stood in the centre of the wide square. Ben took the opportunity to throw a florin on the table for the startled waitress and slip out behind a couple of housewives and their children.

Miles was oblivious to Ben's presence as he hailed a cab from the rank before the town hall but Ben heard him call up to the driver, ‘Borden Colliery.'

Ben nodded to himself. He had already established that Borden Colliery was where Tom Gallagher lived, the same Tom Gallagher who had shamed his sister. Merry swore he was not a bad man, not like his father, but then she was a woman and obviously still had a soft spot for Tom in spite of the fact that he had deserted her. That was another score he had to settle with the Gallaghers but for the time being it would have to wait until the main job was finished.

Ben paused for a moment considering his next move and then strode off towards Jennings and Co., an estate agents in Elvet.

‘I am interested in buying a house somewhere in the Neville's Cross area,' he told the young man who came forward to meet him.

It showed how different he looked compared to when he had been living rough in the deserted village, that the young man gave him his undivided attention. Ben was dressed in an impeccable single breasted suit with cutaway coat and narrow trousers that was the epitome of the well-dressed gentleman in 1903.