Part 9 (2/2)

'Oh, all right.' He walked self-consciously to the middle of the room.

'Sweet Sixteen, Ben?' he said.

'Right, lad.'

Leah watched Paddy, her blue eyes enhanced by the blue dress. The room fell silent as the strains of the lilting Irish ballad filled the room. Paddy's voice soared effortlessly. The sad, sweet notes and the nostalgia of the occasion soon had people in tears. Emma snuffled into a piece of calico thinking of Darkie going back and watched Paddy as he stood in youthful glory, his earlier self-consciousness forgotten. Singing did that to him. It transported him somewhere else. Somewhere wonderful!

His gaze was on Leah, his blue eyes piercing. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. She wished he wouldn't look at her like that. She liked Paddy, but not that way. Her gaze fell under his and she twisted her fingers curled on her lap. She wished he'd stop. Everyone was looking!

Darkie heaved a sigh of relief as he closed the door on the noisy household. The party was still going strong and he'd stood with a forced smile for so long he thought his face would crack.

It had been b.l.o.o.d.y hard work in there, trying to look happy. He was happy to be back, but smiling was something he hadn't done in a long time. What he'd been through in the last few months seemed to have completely shattered his sense of humour. And there was no one who'd liked a good laugh more than he did. No one! Yet, in that room full of laughing people, it had been murder, b.l.o.o.d.y murder!

He walked on up the street, a hunched solitary figure. A few snowflakes drifted onto his shoulders and he pushed his hands deeper into his pockets. It was freezing and he was a numbskull to have left that warm house.

A shout caused him to stop and look back.

'Hold on there, Darkie.' He recognized Paddy's voice.

'What the h.e.l.l are you doing here, Paddy? It's freezing.'

'I could say the same for you,' Paddy said, s.h.i.+vering, 'just thought you might need some company.'

Darkie nodded. He couldn't very well say he'd rather be on his own. 'Aye, thanks. Come on then if you're coming or we'll freeze to death.'

'Why didn't you stay,' Paddy asked as they hurried up the street.

'I just felt a bit smothered in there,' Darkie said.

'Thought I'd go and have a pint on me own.'

'Aye,' Paddy said, his teeth chattering with cold. 'They are a bit overpowering aren't they? You're all right now, though, aren't you?'

'Aye, I'm all right. But it takes a bit of getting used to being back here in Harwood.'

'I'll bet you could tell a few stories that would make me hair curl.'

'Aye, I could that, but I'd rather forget 'em.'

Paddy nodded. He'd been shocked at the change in Darkie. Darkie had always been taller, but big with it. Now he felt as though Darkie towered over him because he was so thin. Like a bean-pole! Darkie's face seemed to have shrunk and his black eyes looked enormous in his white face.

'I'm not getting in your way, am I?' Paddy said.

'No, no. We'll go to the Wellington. Me Dad might be there and I can have a word with him. But don't let on to Mam, will you. She doesn't like me seeing him.'

'Don't worry. I'll keep me gob shut.'

'I could give him a good hiding I could that, big as he is.' Emma looked in exasperation at Darkie, who had been brought home much to her embarra.s.sment, by Harry Huxtable, the local constable.

'Just look at you,' and she gave Darkie a shove into the back room, 'sozzled up to your eyeb.a.l.l.s again.'

She turned to Harry. 'I'm sorry he's giving you trouble, Harry. I don't know what's come over him.'

'Don't tha worry, Emma; he's still only a lad and he's letting off steam and you can't blame him after what he's been through. I'm sorry we had to lock 'em up last night, but Jack at the pub had had enough. They were carrying on a bit and people were getting fed up, especially when they kept thinking the back of the bar was the petty. There wasn't half a to do as you can imagine. They were like the b.l.o.o.d.y Co-op hosses, so Jack said; nearly flooded him out.' Harry laughed. He was a good sort, but Emma was embarra.s.sed again.

'I don't know what things are coming to, I don't. I know they've had a time of it, but there's no need to carry on like that.'

This was the second time it had happened, Darkie getting drunk and he knew she couldn't abide drunken men. That was one of the reasons she'd left Harold. Darkie knew that and he was still putting her through it all again. She wasn't going to stand for it, war or no war. Darkie was standing in the doorway of the back room, swaying and hanging onto the doorframe.

'Go on you daft happorth.' She gave him another push. 'You smell like you need a good possing.'

'I'm sorry, Mam,' Darkie said, his words slurring.

'Sorry's not good enough.' Emma turned back to Harry. 'I'm sorry he's put you to so much trouble, Harry, but I'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again.'

'That's all right Emma. As I said they were just letting off steam.'

'Aye, well, there'd better not be any more steam or he might just get scalded with it.'

She went back into the house. Darkie was staggering around in the back room, b.u.mping into things.

'Get on up to bed,' she said sharply. Men, they were all the same!

The band struck up a rousing tune, appropriately 'pack up your troubles in your old kit bag' and the seven young men, spruce in their uniforms began to march.

The Salvation Army Band made its way from the Town Square and down Queen Street to the railway station, the soldiers striding along behind. People lined the street to see them off.

'Take good care of yourselves, lads.'

'Aye, good luck and give the Huns one from us.'

'Aye, make sure you don't get sozzled before you do, though.'

The band thumped and trumpeted in front, a seemly escort to Darkie, and company.

Emma stood listening to the comments. She didn't care now what he'd done, just as long as he came back safe and sound. She gazed after the procession, Darkie towering above the other soldiers, his shoulders wide and strong as he swung his arms. He turned round once for a final wave. She raised her hand and then put it to her mouth to stifle a sob.

She'd been so relieved when he came back, but the change in him had worried her. He didn't seem like her Darkie anymore! Now he was a man, withdrawn, haggard, with a core deep in him she couldn't reach. He had tried to drown whatever was bothering him in drink.

That was all he and his friends had done since they came back. Drink! For the two full weeks of leave he'd been on the booze. Then he'd refused to go back to his regiment. She'd been floored when he told her.

'But you have to go back, Darkie lad,' she'd said. 'Although G.o.d knows I don't want you to.'

'I'm not b.l.o.o.d.y going back to that h.e.l.l hole,' he said.

Nothing any one had said had been able to persuade him. Then a few others had got the same idea, so the Redcaps had come to make them. But Darkie had the gift of the gab like his Dad and the Redcaps had ended on the booze as well.

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