Part 10 (2/2)

'I'm s...sorry Mrs. Townsend. I was just getting me thimble from under the chair.' Leah said.

Raymond was too stunned to speak. He stared at his mother, his eyes two wide orbs, his face chalk white.

'Raymond?'

'We heard, Mother.' Raymond turned to Paul. 'I hate you, I've always hated you and now I hate my mother as well. I never want to see either of you again.' His voice rose to a shout.

Jessica stared at him. Paul looked round in panic for his cigarettes; he needed another one straightaway.

Jessica wanted to die because she couldn't bear to think of what Raymond had overheard. Raymond brushed past her as he ran out of the room. She'd never forget that look on his face! She tried to compose herself. Leah was still standing as though she'd turned around and seen Sodom. Jessica forced her gaze on her.

'This must not go beyond here, Leah,' she said. Leah nodded. She couldn't look at Paul. 'No one must know,' Jessica repeated.

Leah wet her lips and rubbed her hands together nervously. She was going to be sick and she had to force the words out.

'Yes, Mrs. Townsend,' she managed to whisper. 'Can I go now?'

Jessica stared at her for a moment, frowning. Leah wouldn't say anything, she was sure of that. She wasn't a tattletale, not like that obnoxious Gertie. But you never could tell with people. Besides, what could she do? Nothing, absolutely nothing! Leah was still waiting. Jessica wished she wouldn't stare at her with those big cow eyes. She nodded.

'Yes, go. Just remember what I said.'

Leah went swiftly from the room, keeping her head down so that she couldn't see Mr. de Lacey. What her mind did register, a quite inconsequential and trivial thing but which strangely she remembered after, was a piece of cigarette ash, still in its intact round form, on the floor.

She closed the library door quietly behind her and stood for a few minutes. She was trembling and her teeth chattered like a couple of castanets. She couldn't believe what she'd heard. Mrs. Townsend and her brother! It was terrible, shocking and poor Raymond. She thought he was going to have a heart attack at one stage. They shouldn't have stayed hidden! They should have made their presence known straight away because, as her mother always said, no good ever came of eavesdropping. She should listen to her mother more and her sayings because they were all true: a bird in the hand, pride comes before a fall, a st.i.tch in time and so on and so on. All true, especially that one about eavesdropping. How she wished she hadn't heard a word. Leah walked slowly towards the staircase. She'd left her sewing basket in the library but she'd get it later. Just now she had to go somewhere and try to calm down.

Janey swept disinterestedly under her looms. Another burst of steam filled the air with a thick haze, adding to the humidity. She stood up and wiped the sweat off her face with a cloth, then stared more closely at the straps turning the loom. Was it her imagination or was her loom slowing down. She turned to look at her other loom. Yes, that was doing the same. She blinked. It couldn't be. She'd never heard of the looms being turned off before finis.h.i.+ng time, and here it was, only a bit after eleven. They were though and she blinked again as they stopped completely.

By this time everyone had stopped to watch as all the looms gradually came to a standstill. The weavers automatically knocked the shuttles off, the silence uncanny after the roar of the machinery.

'What's happened?'

'Why have the looms stopped?'

'What's going on?'

Dora came over to Janey and they stood for a few minutes uncertainly, watching the other weavers. Then there was a loud shout from a man standing at the other end of the weaving shed. He had just come in from the Tatler's room waving a paper.

'The war's over! The war's over!'

As if on cue hundreds of pairs of clogs began a thunderous clatter as the weavers swarmed out of the weaving shed. The iron runners on their clogs were almost as deafening as the running looms had been.

Dora and Janey were swept along with the crowd. When they reached the yard there were hundreds of people yelling and screaming, laughing and crying.

It was over!

The two girls followed the excited throng out of the mill yard and down the street. People began to sing the war song of Tipparary, quietly at first and then the music swelled into a crescendo and people marched in unison to the Square. The noise was deafening. Janey covered her ears. It was bad enough in the mill. Besides, she hated crowds, especially when they were carrying on like this.

She hadn't forgotten when she went to a cricket match in Manchester. She had gone with Leah and they'd clung together as the crowd pushed them towards the gates. Instead of going through they were pushed behind and had to wait until thousands of people left the stadium.

She had the same feeling now. Suffocated. She had to get home. Dora had disappeared in the crowd. She struggled to get to the side so that she could duck down a side street. She heaved a sigh of relief as she finally made her way home, away from the crowds. They'd all be making for the Town Square. Well, she wasn't going. Her mother wouldn't because she couldn't abide crowds either. Janey ran the rest of the way. It was not even twelve o'clock and she was on her way home!

Her mother was there before her, having a cup of tea usual. She looked at Janey in surprise.

'I thought you'd be on the Square.'

Janey shook her head. 'You know I'm like you, Mam, I hate crowds.'

'Aye, I'd forgotten; cup of tea, love?'

'Ta, I will, Mam. Are there any of them oatmeal biscuits left?

'Aye, I think so.' Emma reached up for a tin on the shelf over the range. She took a biscuit out and gave it to Janey, 'One or two?'

'Two please.' Janey took a bite and looked at her mother.

'When do you think he'll come home, Mam?'

'I haven't the faintest idea, love. All I know is that I won't be able to sleep proper until he does, or celebrate either. I haven't heard anything for months, although he never was a good letter writer. Ee, I hope he's all right.'

'He'll be home in no time now, Mam, so stop worrying. You're always worrying about something or other and it doesn't help. It only makes things worse if you ask me.'

Emma nodded and sat down in her favourite chair. It squeaked alarmingly every time she sat in it and if any more stuffing came out it would be completely flat.

'You're right there our Janey, but I can't help it. It's just the way I'm made. Some people are born worriers and, most of 'em are mothers. I can't believe it. After all this time it's over. Well, let's hope it's the last one.'

Janey finished her tea and biscuits and then stood up.

'I'm going to the petty, Mam.' She picked up a newspaper and went out of the room.

Emma watched her from her chair as she went into the lavatory at the end of the yard. When Janey came back she'd make her cut some newspaper up for the toilet instead of having to take some with her every time she went. She had been talking to Mrs. Martin down the street, who told her she always did her's nice and neat and hung them on a nail. Thinks she posh, Emma thought with a smile, silly b.u.g.g.e.r. But it was a good idea!

She was off on a lovely day-dream about Darkie coming home when a sudden shout from the lavatory almost made her fall off the chair. She jumped up as Janey came tearing out of the toilet pulling up her knickers.

'What's wrong,' Emma called in panic. Janey's eyes were two vivid green slits.

'Somebody's taken John Gilbert off the wall and I'll bet I know who did it. Oo, I'll kill our Leah, I will that. She's always doing it, taking my pictures off the petty because she can't be bothered to take newspaper with her. And now she's wiped her b.u.m on John Gilbert.'

'Now, now Janey,' Emma's fear turned to anger with relief. 'There's no need to carry on like that. You nearly gave me a heart attack, shouting at the top of your voice, and all over a flaming picture.'

'Not just any picture. John Gilbert! That was me best picture of him as well. I'll kill our Leah, I will.'

Janey flounced back down to the lavatory, her knickers showing because she'd got her skirt caught in the elastic. Emma looked after her in irritation. Ee, she did carry on did Janey and all over a picture!

Emma went back into the kitchen, shaking her head. Well, she'd enjoy this extra time off, anyway. I wonder how long it'll be before we hear from Darkie, she thought. Wouldn't it be terrible if something happened to him now, right at the end? She was wrong in her head to be worrying like this, though. Janey was right, worrying got you nowhere, except a big headache. She should be laughing instead because the war was over and now everything would be different!

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