Part 10 (1/2)

By this time the whole town was aware that Darkie Hammond and the others on leave wouldn't go back to the Front. It was becoming a big scandal. A journalist was sent from the Manchester Herald to write a story, which appeared in the paper the next day. 'SOLDIERS REFUSE TO GO BACK...MILITARY POLICE REFUSE TO GO BACK...IS ANY ONE GOING BACK?'

Emma wiped her eyes. What a lot of carryings on! They had sent another lot of military police who had finally got the lads into uniform and on their way. It had kept Harwood talking for weeks. But whatever he had done didn't matter now. Just let him come back, she thought. When was this d.a.m.ned war going to end? Her head was starting to ache again.

Annie Fitton stood next to Emma. Poor Emma, she thought, it's not b.l.o.o.d.y fair! How many more were to be killed before this whole b.l.o.o.d.y mess was over? She'd never get over her Ned and Bill getting it. Never! But she wasn't the only one who suffered. Whole streets at a time had lost men and young boys, who'd all signed up together, gone off to war together and been killed together. And how they'd been killed was anyone's guess because you didn't get to know from the War Office, which was probably a good thing. Died valiantly could mean anything from the measles to being blown to smithereens.

It was shocking how many had died, in the millions so they said and there was hardly a household in Harwood where either brother, son or husband had not returned.

This little episode had lightened the mood a bit, but it still didn't alter the fact that those marching soldiers might also never return. She patted Emma's arm. 'Come on, Emma, let's go home and I'll make us a cup of tea.'

Leah bit off the end of the thread. You could hardly see where that tear had been. She smoothed the tapestry seat of the library chair and picked up another thread to finish off the final bit of st.i.tching. She thought again of Stephen Townsend.

Stephen Townsend! She hadn't been able to get him out of her mind since that fall. Of how he'd looked when he lifted her onto the settee, his blue eyes intense with worry. She could still feel his arms around her, still remembered how he smelt. She couldn't sleep at night and went around during the day in a daze. In other words she was infatuated. She'd looked that word up in the dictionary because she'd heard it used before. Yes, that was her, all right!

She wished she wasn't that girl, because now, every time she saw him she got all fl.u.s.tered and stuttered and stammered like an idiot. Before this thing had hit her she'd been easy with him, able to talk to him and had even got over feeling guilty about calling him a silly sod. Anyway, nothing had come of that little episode for which she'd been extremely thankful.

She began to pack up her sewing box, still sitting on the floor where she had to crouch to fix the seat. She heard the library door open. Raymond Townsend poked his head round. She groaned. Not him again! He'd been a bit more subdued lately, though.

Seeing Leah sitting on the floor Raymond grinned.

He came in and closed the door. 'Ha, ha, we meet again,' he said. 'How's your head? Better?'

'It's all right,' Leah said shortly. Raymond ignored her cool manner and walked over to her. 'By the way, I really was sorry that you hurt yourself. I didn't mean for you to fall off.'

'Well, you gave a good imitation of it,' Leah said watching him suspiciously. You never knew with him!

He observed the look and held up his hands. 'Don't worry, see, nothing there, not even a mouse.'

Leah continued to pack up, ignoring him.

'What, cat got your tongue,' Raymond said, 'and how's the elocution lessons coming along?' and laughed at the look on Leah's face, 'only joking.'

'Strange idea of a joke,' she said as she began to stand up and her thimble, which she'd forgotten to take off her finger, dropped on the floor and rolled under the chair. She muttered in annoyance. If she lost it that it would be the third one in as many weeks and Miss Fenton was getting annoyed with her. She bent down to look. She could see it right at the back against the wall. She tried reaching for it but just missed.

'What's the matter?' Raymond said.

'My thimble, I dropped it. Miss Fenton will be mad at me if I lose another one.'

'Here, I might be able to reach it.' He got on the floor and stretched full length.

They were both lying on the floor behind the settee when the door opened and Paul Townsend's voice drifted over.

'Look, it'll only be for a few days.'

Hearing his uncle's voice Raymond clutched Leah's arm and put his finger to his lips as Leah began to get up.

'It's just getting too much, Paul.' His mother's voice floated over to them, a note of annoyance in it.

Raymond raised an eyebrow at Leah in surprise. His mother never got angry with her brother!

'George will only put up with so much, you know and you're trying his patience. And mine, too for that matter. It's not right that you just come up any time of day or night.'

There was silence for a few seconds. Leah tried to rise again but Raymond held her down. She signalled with her eyes that she wanted to get up. They couldn't stay here any longer. They were eavesdropping!

'Ah, yes, we mustn't upset old George, must we? But what about you Jess? I thought you liked having me here.'

'I do Paul, you know that, but I've my husband to think of.' Jessica could see Paul was angry with her.

'Now don't be silly Paul. Be reasonable. Limit your visits to two or three a year and do try to let me know in advance. It's not fair to land on us at a minute's notice.'

Paul made an explosive sound.

Raymond peeped over the settee. Paul was standing next to his mother and he had cupped her chin in his hand.

'There was a time Jess darling when you wanted me with you every day, all day...and all night.'

Raymond stiffened. Leah, still crouched next to him sensed his rigidity and curiosity getting the better of her, she also risked a quick peep. She almost gasped and looked over at Raymond. He'd gone a deathly white as he gazed incredulously at his uncle and his mother. Paul was kissing Jessica: it wasn't a brotherly kiss.

Jessica broke away and rubbed her lips. 'You shouldn't have done that Paul; all that's over now. Do you hear, over and besides someone might come in.'

Paul took an immaculate white handkerchief out of his top pocket and wiped his mouth, looking calculatingly at Jessica, 'What if someone did come in? So what? I don't b.l.o.o.d.y well care. It's not that though, is it? Be honest. You're fed up with me and now it suits you I can just trot off like a good little boy. Well, you won't get rid of me so easily.'

'Sh...sh...some one might hear you.' Jessica sounded panicky.

Good, Paul thought. Serve her jolly well right. She grabbed his arm.

'Paul, please.' He shook her hand off him.

'I don't give a d.a.m.n. What would they do? George wouldn't do anything and you know it; too scared of scandal, too much of an old stick in the mud. Why on earth did you marry him? It's me you've always loved. Me!' He glared at his sister.

Jessica's voice was low now. 'I love George, too, Paul. You know that. I've always loved him. We were children when all that happened with us.'

'Ah yes, were we? What about Raymond! Does George know about Ray? What would he think of you then?' Paul laughed, mockingly. He walked over to a table and took a cigarette from a cigarette case. He tapped the end and then casually placed it in his mouth, using the lighter next to the case. His eyes narrowed as he took a puff. Jessica wasn't going to get rid of him like an old shoe.

Jessica was frightened. What was the matter with him? He'd never been like this with her before. She watched as he blew out a perfect ring of smoke. He turned to her again. 'That wouldn't go down too well, would it?'

'Don't say that, please. And don't try to blackmail me, it won't work. If you so much as hint to George I'll tell him to sack you and I'll never speak to you again. In spite of what you may think, Paul I do love George.'

Paul took his time making another smoke ring. He tapped the ash off the end with his finger and it fell to the floor intact, looking like a small grub. He was a bit tight at the moment and if he got the sack he'd be on poverty row. He stubbed his cigarette out on the ashtray.

'All right, you've made your point.' He walked over to her and took her hand. 'You know how much I care about you, darling, don't you? You're the only one I do care about in this d.a.m.ned world.'

Jessica looked into Paul's eyes; her's filled with tears. 'Of course I do, Paul, of course I know you care and you'll always be very dear to me no matter what happens. But you've got to think of the future. You've been on your own far too long. You need someone Paul and I don't mean a friend. You need a wife.'

Paul s.n.a.t.c.hed his hand away. 'I don't need a wife,' he said viciously. He turned away and immediately saw Raymond and Leah watching over the settee.

'What?' Jessica turned, her eyes following Paul. She gasped and put her hand to her mouth.

'What are you two doing here?' She could hardly get the words out. Raymond and Leah emerged from behind the settee.