Part 17 (1/2)

'Well, you'd better do something or they'll send you away, then we'll never see each other. That might be the best thing, anyway.'

'Don't say that.'

There was silence for a few minutes. Raymond risked a peep round the door. His eyes opened wide in surprise. Darkie and Marion were kissing. A sense of deja vu hit him. Hadn't this happened before?

'Maybe it would be a good thing for you to get away for a while to really think this over,' Darkie said as they drew apart.

'No.' She pulled him closer and kissed him again.

Raymond was transfixed. He couldn't have moved, even had he wanted to.

Darkie laughed, a little with relief, as he looked down at Marion. 'The only thing I can think of is to run away,' he said, jokingly.

'Why not,' she said suddenly, 'why not?'

Run away, Raymond thought in shock. What was going to happen next? His mother would have a fit. She was already looking 'frazzled' he'd heard Maud Walters say, with 'the goings on'. This would really frazzle her! Serve her right. He still hadn't forgiven her.

'You know your father would come after us and bring you back,' Darkie said.

'Not if we run far enough away.'

'How far away,' Darkie asked, looking at her skeptically.

'Mm...America?'

'America! That is a b.l.o.o.d.y long way.'

It was Marion's turn to laugh at Darkie's incredulous expression, which gradually changed as he thought of what Marion had just said.

'What are you thinking about now,' she said.

'That might not be such a bad idea. I have a relative in America who started those penny bazaars, an uncle on my mother's side, the Winfields. They might be able to help us when we get there. I've got some money saved, so that's no problem.'

America! Raymond's mind raced. He'd always wanted to go to America. That was it! If Marion and Darkie were going to America then he would go with them. He was fed up of Harwood, fed up of studying, didn't really want to go to Oxford and read dreary law. It was also a chance to get away from all that had gone on, away from his mother who was a daily reminder, when he was home, of everything that had happened. He was still bitter and unhappy, unable to handle the situation, often las.h.i.+ng out at anyone indiscriminately.

Marion and Darkie turned as the door burst open.

'I heard,' Raymond said.

Darkie went to the door and closed it quickly.

'Keep your mouth shut then,' he said sharply.

'I want to come with you.'

'What do you mean, come with us?' Marion said. That was all they needed, Raymond's meddling.

'To America,' Raymond said.

'Don't be stupid, Raymond.'

'Why not, I hate it here.'

'I thought you were doing so well at your studies, Ray, and looking forward to going to Oxford,' Marion said in surprise.

'Well, I'm not and it's not only that.'

'You can't come with us and that's that. And don't you dare say anything.' Marion glared at him.

'Please, Marion.'

'I've told you, no.'

Raymond stared back. He was stuck. Could he tell her what had happened? He'd no alternative.

'It's because of mother,' he began haltingly. Then it poured from him, purging him. He'd held it inside him for two years, slowly festering. Like a canker cauterized he was released, relief seeped through him, healing. Marion and Darkie listened in amazement. Marion studied him as he spoke. He seemed more mature than his seventeen years and why hadn't she noticed that sadness in his eyes before? She'd been too wrapped up in herself. Raymond had his share of troubles as well. If only she'd known.

The hoot of the steamer echoed loudly in the morning air. The fog had lain heavy since dawn, but now the slight mist began to clear and the faint outline of the Corona could be seen. Her funnels suddenly belched black smoke. A tug made its determined way back to the wharf, st.u.r.dy and solid, fighting the rough seas like a pugnacious little bulldog.

The man pounded along the dock, his expensive Saville Row overcoat billowing from him as he ran. His hand made leather shoes thudded loudly, startling the three other people on the dock. Only a short time ago there had been throngs of people seeing relatives and friends off to the other side of the world. Now only these three remained. They watched as the s.h.i.+p faded gradually into the distance.

The man seemed unaware of them. The pounding of his feet had taken on the reverberations of a giant hammer on an anvil. Sweat ran down the side of his face. He finally recognized the futility of his mad race and stopped abruptly, bleakly watching the Corona disappear over the horizon. He looked around, conscious suddenly of the three other dejected figures, now staring silently at him. He walked slowly towards them, his breathing easing.

'Well, Mrs. Hammond, it seems that the birds have flown!' George Townsend took out an immaculate linen handkerchief and wiped his face.

Emma's face was tear-stained. He checked the angry words when he saw her misery.

'Aye, they've gone,' Emma said heavily. She looked at the well-dressed man in front of her. Grief was etched deep. All his bra.s.s can't fix that, she thought. She would have given all the money in the world to bring Darkie back. This one in front of her had lost a son and a daughter! If only America wasn't such a long way off. All that misery and worry during the war and now she'd lost Darkie in another way. She couldn't envisage ever seeing him again.

'Aye, they're gone,' she said again and looked out across the vastness of grey, at the grey mist, the grey outlines of the buildings on the docks. All different tonings of grey - like her mind at the moment.

Despondency settled on her, like a covering of cement, choking. Janey and Leah began to sob again.

'That's enough you two,' Emma said sharply, hiding her own unhappiness. 'That'll do no one any good. He's gone and there's nothing we can do about it.' She studied the man standing in front of her for a moment. 'I'm sorry Mr. Townsend. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen to reason. They'd made up their minds and nothing and n.o.body would have been able to change them.'

George flinched as though the revelation had only just hit him. He'd been angry, furious at what had happened. Now he realized he might never see his son and daughter again. He made a choking sound in his throat and turned away, shoulders heaving. He couldn't break down here!

Emma stared at him with compa.s.sion. With all his bra.s.s, she thought, he's only a man just like all the rest of 'em. This surprised her. Like most people in Harwood she was a little intimidated by the 'n.o.bs'. She looked upon them as almost G.o.d-like figures, untouchable and unattainable. All his bra.s.s, she thought again, won't bring his children back.

George turned to Emma and put his hand tentatively on her shoulder. 'I'm sorry, too, Mrs. Hammond. There's something I didn't do right and I've paid the price, very heavily I'm afraid. If there's anything I can do for you please let me know.'

He noticed Emma's surprise. 'I mean that, Mrs. Hammond, because I feel it's my fault they left. There's also another point to consider.'

'What's that, Mr. Townsend?'

'Darkie and Marion, our children,' he said.