Twisted Strands (41 page)

He picked up her hand and held it to his cheek. ‘Oh, Bridie,’ he murmured, ‘what would I do without you?’

Beyond him, out of the corner of her eye, Bridie caught a movement in the doorway. She glanced up to look straight into her father’s grinning face.

‘I can see I shall have to warn my sister about that husband of hers,’ was Jimmy’s greeting the next morning. ‘Mind you, it’s her own fault. She
never could keep a feller for long.’

‘Don’t talk such nonsense,’ Bridie snapped, for once her patience at an end.

He laughed. ‘I expect, when all this is over, she plans to come and live here. Play the lady of the manor like she always wanted. Maybe it’s all she’ll have left.’ He
winked at her and tapped the side of his nose. ‘If her dear husband’s got his eye on you.’

To her dismay, Bridie could not stop the colour flooding her face. She was angry, yet knew he would see it as embarrassment.

‘Oho,’ Jimmy said at once. ‘I see I’m right.’

‘Nothing of the sort,’ she answered hotly. There was only one way she could nip this in the bud. ‘Besides,’ she added, ‘I’ve got my sights
elsewhere.’

But Jimmy only laughed. ‘Trying to put me off the scent, eh? Well, I know what I saw last night and I’m sure my sister would be interested to hear all about it. Very
interested.’

‘You . . .’ Bridie began taking a step towards him.

‘Is he bothering you, Bridie?’ Andrew was coming slowly down the stairs, holding tightly onto the banister. He had not yet fully recovered his strength and the wound in his side,
even after years in the prison camp, still refused to heal properly. ‘’Cos if he is . . .’

‘No, no.’ Bridie hurried towards him to help him down the last few steps. He stood at the foot of the stairs, panting from the exertion, yet his eyes glittered with hatred as he
glanced at Jimmy. The latter, however, just stood smiling superciliously at them both.

‘Oh aye, and what do you reckon you could do about it? You couldn’t beat me last time, so what do you think you could do now, eh?’

‘Will you two just stop it?’ Bridie began, but already Andrew was pulling himself free of her hold and stepping towards his adversary.

‘I’ll swing for you, Jimmy Hardcastle. I’ll—’

‘Come on, then.’ Jimmy adopted a fighting pose, fists raised. ‘Let’s be having you. Let’s see what you’re really made of, Burns.’

‘Stop this. Please—’ Bridie pleaded, but Andrew pulled himself free and lunged towards Jimmy, who landed a punch on his jaw with his right hand and then swiftly followed it up
with a heavy blow to Andrew’s side. Then he stood back as Andrew groaned and doubled over in agony, crumpling to the floor.

‘Whatever is going on?’ Dulcie was hurrying across the hall. Bridie turned to her in relief. ‘I couldn’t stop them. I—’

‘Go to your room, Singleton. I’ll deal with you later. And you too, Mr Hardcastle.’ She glared at him and added sarcastically, ‘It seems to me that your memory is
returning very quickly now. I shall be calling the authorities to have you assessed with a view to you returning to duty.’

‘And as for you.’ She looked down at Andrew, writhing on the floor. ‘How are we to get that wound to heal if you get involved in fights?’ She tutted disapprovingly and
beckoned to two other nurses to help her take Andrew back to his room so that she could examine the damage.

‘Please, Matron—’ Bridie began, but Dulcie only said sharply, ‘I told you to go to your room. I’ll send for you when I’m ready to listen to you.’

‘I can’t have that sort of behaviour, Bridie.’

She was standing in front of the matron’s desk, whilst Dulcie sat in the chair behind it. The fight had reopened Andrew’s old wound and the doctor had had to be called.

Bridie stood silently, her head bowed, taking the blame. She felt Dulcie’s gaze on her and heard her soft sigh. ‘I know it wasn’t really your fault, but it’s a mistake to
have them all here. I thought it would be helpful to them, Mr Stokes as well, for them to be near you, but it seems I was wrong. I’m sorry, Bridie, but I will have to take steps to alter the
situation. I intend to ask Dr Roper, when he calls to see Mr Burns, to send Mr Hardcastle to his mother’s.’ Dulcie smiled wryly. ‘It’s what she wants anyway, even if he
doesn’t. But he seems to be the centre of the trouble. Mr Stokes and Mr Burns have no quarrel with each other, have they?’

Bridie shook her head, but bit her lip. There hadn’t been actual trouble yet, but if Jimmy carried out his threat then there very well could be.

‘Very well, then. You may go now, but do try to keep them apart as much as you can.’

‘Thank you, Matron,’ she said in a small voice.

That evening, after dinner, Richard was once more hovering in the hall, waiting to waylay her. ‘You’re right, Bridie. I should talk to Eveleen,’ Richard said.
‘Perhaps she will understand.’

‘Of course she will.’

‘But would you – would you talk to her first? Maybe she’d understand better if you explain to her that it – it happens to a lot of men.’

Bridie nodded. ‘If you really want me to.’

‘I do.’ He was pathetically grateful.

But when Bridie broached the delicate subject with her aunt the following Sunday, Eveleen felt humiliated. ‘How could he? How could he do that to me? Discuss such a personal matter with
anyone else.’ Eveleen paced up and down Dulcie’s office. The matron had given permission for Bridie to talk to her aunt in private and they were alone in the room. Eveleen whirled
around now and faced her niece. ‘And to you, of all people. You’re only a child.’

‘I’m seventeen, Auntie Evie,’ Bridie said quietly. ‘And believe me, after what I’ve witnessed here, I feel much older.’

‘He should have talked to me.’ Eveleen’s face crumpled and tears threatened.

Bridie stepped towards her, her arms outstretched. ‘Oh, Auntie Evie, don’t. It’ll be all right—’

But Eveleen pushed her away, beside herself with resentment and jealousy. Richard had talked to Bridie, had discussed an intimate problem with a young girl when he should have talked to her, his
wife, about it.

‘He’s coming home with me. Today. I won’t have him stay here another minute.’

‘Please, Auntie Evie, listen to me. You mustn’t be angry with him. You must treat him kindly – gently—’

‘Don’t you tell me how to treat my husband,’ Eveleen flashed back and Bridie could see that her efforts were hopeless.

Eveleen brushed past her and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Alone, Bridie closed her eyes and groaned aloud. She had tried her best, yet now she feared she had only made
matters worse.

Eveleen had enough common sense to see that she must not show her anger to Richard. Though it pained her to admit it, she knew Bridie had been right in all that she had said.
Many men returning from the war had great difficulty in adjusting to their home life once more, even to a loving relationship with their wives. Win, ever grateful for Eveleen’s help with her
son-in-law, Sid, had confided, ‘Things are much better between them. He’s that sorry, he can’t do enough for our Elsie.’ She had sighed. ‘The only thing he can’t
do is be a proper husband to her, if you know what I mean.’ Win had gone on to tell her that several of the homeworkers, whose husbands had returned from the war, were experiencing similar
problems. But knowing this still didn’t make it any easier for Eveleen to deal with and to have had it confirmed by Bridie had been more than she could bear. To think that Richard had
preferred to confide in the girl rather than in his wife hurt her deeply.

But to Richard she presented a smiling face, a gentle tone and understanding. Only when he asked her, ‘Has Bridie talked to you? Has she told you?’ did it take a supreme effort to
keep the smile on her face and the anger from her voice.

‘Yes, yes. We’ve talked. But everything will be fine, darling. Matron says you must see the doctor first, but she sees no reason why you won’t be able to come home next Sunday.
And once you’re home and we’re together again everything will be fine.’

She saw him glance at her, saw his wan smile and knew he was not convinced.

After her conversation with Richard, Eveleen talked to Dulcie and then she went alone to Pear Tree Farm.

‘I’ve got a feeling Fairfield House won’t be needed as a home much longer. Several of the patients are well enough to go home now. Even some of the staff have left. And
Richard’s coming home next week.’

‘What about Jimmy?’ Mary asked at once.

Eveleen placed her cup and saucer carefully on the table. ‘That’s partly why I’m here. There’s been a bit of trouble between him and Andrew and Dulcie feels that Jimmy is
well enough to leave. Once she’s had the doctor’s approval and possibly that of the naval authorities too, he can be released.’

‘He must come here. He must come home,’ Mary said, clasping her hands in glee, her eyes shining.

Eveleen glanced towards Josh sitting quietly in the chair near the range. They exchanged a long look of understanding and she heard the big man sigh with resignation. He loved her mother dearly
and Eveleen knew he could refuse her nothing, but the prospect of having Jimmy to live with them obviously did not appeal. Mary, however, was too wrapped up in her own anticipated pleasure to
notice.

For very different reasons, Eveleen warned them, ‘He probably won’t stay long, you know. As soon as he’s really fit again, he’ll want to be off.’

She had a job to stop the laughter bubbling up as she saw the acute disappointment on her mother’s face, but the relief on Josh’s. But then Mary smiled. ‘We’ll see. Once
he’s tasted my home cooking again, he’ll not want to go back.’

‘He may have to, Mary, love.’

She spun round on Josh. ‘Why? The war’s over.’

‘But Jimmy didn’t join the navy just for the war. He’s been a regular for years.’

‘So, he can still leave, can’t he?’

‘It depends how many years he’s signed on for.’

Mary thought for a moment and then said confidently, ‘Well, they won’t want him back if he’s lost his memory, will they?’

Eveleen and Josh exchanged another glance as Josh said heavily, ‘No, I don’t expect they will.’

‘Lost his memory? My foot!’

The following Sunday, when Eveleen came to Fair-field House to take Richard home to Nottingham, she was once again in the matron’s office. She had never seen the calm, usually unruffled
Dulcie so incensed.

‘I’m sorry, Eveleen.’ The two women had become friends and had been on first name terms in private for some time. ‘But that brother of yours!’

Eveleen smiled. ‘You don’t need to tell me.’

‘He’s hoodwinked the doctor and the naval people who came to assess him this week. D’you know, he should have been an actor. I wouldn’t believe a word he says. He’s
caused nothing but trouble here since he came. Flirting with the nurses, upsetting Bridie. He won’t even acknowledge that the poor child is his daughter. And then that fight with Andrew last
week, well, that was the last straw.’

She marched up and down her office. Then she stopped and faced Eveleen. ‘There’s one good thing, though. The doctor and naval people have agreed that he can be allowed to go home to
Pear Tree Farm. The only thing is . . .’ She smiled slightly and there was a conspiratorial twist to her mouth. ‘He’s refusing to go and whilst the home is still open, I
can’t insist that he should leave. I was wondering—’

Eveleen smiled. ‘You want me to tell him that the home is closing and that everyone must leave.’

‘Would you?’

‘What about the other patients?’

‘There’s only Andrew, who’s not really quite fit to go home without someone to care for him. And
that’s
Jimmy’s fault, anyway.’ She sat down and leant
her forearms on her desk, clasping her fingers together. ‘The thing is, Eveleen, Bridie is willing to go home with Andrew to care for him. In fact, she’s desperate to go with him. But I
wondered how you’d feel about it? Would you mind?’

‘Me? Why should I mind?’ Mind, Eveleen was thinking, I’d be delighted.

‘Well, I understand you are her legal guardian. Or is that your mother?’

Eveleen shrugged and laughed. ‘It wouldn’t make a deal of difference. If Bridie wants to do something, she will, no matter what we say. Besides, I haven’t any
objection.’

On the contrary, Eveleen thought, it couldn’t be a better solution. If Bridie were safely in Flawford, caring for Andrew, perhaps Richard would begin to forget about her.

Her smile widened. ‘I think it’s a grand idea.’

‘I’m coming home with you and that’s final,’ Bridie declared, packing Andrew’s possessions into a small trunk. There were pathetically few of
them. He was sitting holding the photograph of her. She held out her hand. ‘Let’s put that on the top and close the lid.’

‘Wrap it in something. I don’t want it to get broken. It’s the last photograph I have of you.’

She smiled at him. ‘I’ve four more upstairs in my chest of drawers just waiting for you to come home. I even went into Grantham this September and got one done.’

‘You remembered?’ he said softly. ‘You got a photograph done each year?’

‘Of course,’ she answered gently. ‘How could I forget a promise to you?’

‘Will you have another one done for me on your next birthday?’

‘You don’t need any more photographs. You’ve got the real thing now.’

His face clouded. ‘Your grandfather won’t like you being alone with me in my cottage.’

She grinned at him. ‘We’ll have to get married then, won’t we?’

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘I’ve told you, I’m too old for you, Bridie.’

She closed the lid of the trunk and straightened up, her face sober now. ‘It’s nothing to do with age, is it? You don’t love me the way I love you.’

‘I do love you, my dearest girl. I always have. You know that. You’re the most important person in my life. You’re the reason I survived the war and then the prison camp for
all that time.’

‘But . . .’ she prompted.

He sighed, but could not answer her. She moved and stood beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder. Her voice was shaky, but the words had to be spoken. ‘You still think of me as a
little girl. As Rebecca’s daughter. As the daughter that you and she might have had. Don’t you?’