Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts

Happy New Year 2014

on Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Sunset or sunrise? You choose.
Another spell of 365 days has passed. The New Year promises much, is replete with potential. Will we harvest the fruits of our talent and labour? Or will we fritter away the next year, as we might have done the last? That's the beauty of a New Year: it gives us hope and choice. Whether we select 'same old, same old' or opt for 'everything changes' or some road between is entirely up to us.

I prefer the New Year to Christmas. Xmas is all about children (bless their little hearts!) and the commercialisation of ritual giving. But New Year marks a new opportunity, a point of change, a fulcrum for potential.

New Year Resolutions will proliferate; but not from me. I make only one resolution: to make no resolutions.

But I have intentions, dreams, plans, hopes. There will be more books from my pounded keyboard, posts on this blog, tweets via that truncated network, pins to the boards of interest, status updates on the book of my face, additions to the google plus, comments on the output of others. I will read more and record that activity on Goodreads, reviewing those volumes that please me. But, more than anything else, this new season of days will find me writing, writing writing.

I wish all of you all that you wish for yourselves. May 2014 be THE year for all of us!
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Read My Novel, Free: Chapter 18

on Friday, May 18, 2012

Still here? Stubborn, or are you really enjoying this story? I certainly hope so.

I posted Chapter 1 on 13 January. Following chapters appear each Friday. You can find them via the archive; just search for the chapter you want to read.


Read, enjoy, invite friends to join us.

Chapter 18

Saturday 24th April

‘May I call you Mother?’
‘It’s who I am but I’d prefer Mum or Matilda.’
My sister watched curiously. I took in her long blonde hair, eyes the colour of cornflowers and the secret smile forming on her full lips. I knew at once she was everything Leigh looked for in a woman and my heart checked within me, causing me to gasp audibly.
‘The papers called you “Faith,” but I’d rather use “Fay” if you don’t mind. Can’t stand all that church stuff. I’m Netta, your little sister. Only not so little as you, it seems.’
I shrugged, noncommittally. Mother, Matilda, Mum stepped forward and we embraced, a little awkwardly at first until natural affinity took over and we hugged tightly as if neither of us ever wanted to let go. It was a feeling of such warmth and belonging that I couldn’t stop the tears. When I pulled back at last, I was relieved to see telltale trails running down Mum’s made-up cheeks.
Netta was eyeing up Leigh in the same way all other women did. She was as interested in him as he was in her. So far, he’d remained a silent observer at this family reunion.
‘Netta.’ I held out my arms in what I hoped was a welcome. She approached and allowed a small hug, even kissed my cheek.
‘Hi, Sis.’
‘It sounds formal, but I’m pleased to meet you. I thought I was alone.’
There was a brief, awkward silence.
‘Look, I want to get one thing straight, Faith. Netta and I don’t believe a word of what the papers say about you and that terrible business with Heacham and Hope. And we…’
‘I’ve kept the papers away from Faith, Mrs…’
‘Matilda, please. I’m sorry. I just assumed ...’
‘I’ve only just started to read newspapers, Mum; not in the habit yet. What did they say?’
‘You know, Sis, about how you must’ve helped him rape helpless little Hope…’
Mum’s look told me they had discussed this and that Netta had broken an agreement. ‘Neither of us believes a word of it, of course. We know you must’ve been unaware.’
‘Hard to fathom, though, when you’re supposed to be the one who looked after the poor, useless thing.’
‘That’s what Leigh thinks, Netta, so you and he will probably get along fine. I’ll say it just once; once more for Leigh’s benefit. I knew absolutely nothing about what that B was doing to our sister. If I had, I would’ve killed him with my bare hands. You can believe me or not. I can’t make you do something you don’t want to. But, whatever any of you think, it’s the truth.’
Leigh looked uncomfortable. ‘I do believe you, Faith. Have done for a while.’
I was angry and hurt that such was the beginning to what I’d hoped would be a wonderful day and the start of a new and pleasant phase of my life. Leigh’s declaration was late in getting through to me and by then he was speaking to Mum and Netta. I stared at him with surprise.
‘There’s a lot you can’t yet know about Faith. I’d give her the benefit of the doubt, at least until you know her better. But, be warned, she hasn’t had the advantage of a social upbringing and she speaks the truth as she sees it, always. It’s a little alarming, and just one of many reasons I’m very fond of her.’
I wanted to hug him, but I was wary of showing that sort of affection in front of Mum until I knew her better. Her good opinion was vital to me, so I just nodded at him and gave a smile of gratitude. I wanted to get him alone to explain and thank him properly and tell him how I really felt but events conspired against me and I had no experience to guide my behaviour.
‘Shall we all sit down?’ Leigh led us from the office into the sitting room where he offered drinks.
Mum was wearing a pale blue denim skirt that was too short for someone her age, though there was nothing wrong with her legs, and a top in black cotton that displayed a generous cleavage. Netta was in the shortest pale lilac dress possible. The soft fabric clung to her large, firm breasts. I felt demure in my knee-length cotton print dress. Leigh, of course, had eyes only for Netta and Mum.
We talked around things rather than about them, to begin with. I learned about the small bungalow they lived in and how Netta was supposedly studying for A levels at college.
‘It’s so boring. None of the lecturers is with it. Half the time I can’t be bothered. I’d much rather tune in, turn on, drop out, you know? Especially with Russia and the States playing games with our futures with their big boy’s toys.’
I didn’t really know what she meant but I nodded, applying the polite responses Ma was teaching me.
Mum worked part time in the office of a local car dealer. ‘That’s how I got my little car, you know.’
I answered the questions they asked until Leigh became impatient with my reticence and told them all he knew about my life with the B before I’d come to live at Longhouse.
‘No telly? No radio? No magazines?’ Netta couldn’t believe it was possible to exist without such things.
Mum, on the other hand, just nodded. ‘I should’ve known. He always was a weird bastard. Cruel and cold and hard. No love in the sod. He started on the God kick before we got married but it was becoming more of an obsession by the time he threw Netta and me out. I always hoped it would be another of his passing phases. I’d no idea he’d take it as far as that.
‘Now I think about it, it’s not such a surprise he was raping Hope. The only time he could ever screw me was when I was dead drunk or completely exhausted and had no energy to participate. Sod’s a necrophiliac. Real, live women scare the shit out of him. That’s why he never touched you, Faith; you could move and answer back. The bastard.
‘No wonder he wanted you out of the house. He must’ve realised you were getting old enough to put two and two together and he was scared you’d guess what…’
‘Christ, Mum, she’s nearly twenty-one! I’d’ve twigged when I was ten!’
‘Hasn’t had your advantages, Netta. I mean, you were acting like a woman by the time you were thirteen. Looking like one, too. I mean, Leigh, she’s been having sex since I don’t know when. I caught her with a farmer on her fourteenth birthday. I knew I couldn’t stop her so I’ve just made damn sure she’s protected. Don’t want her having to marry some bastard like Heacham because she’s in the club.’
‘Like mother, like daughter. Mum obviously enjoyed sex. I thought I’d have a bit myself before the stupid morons blow us all to kingdom come.’
‘A lot, more like.’
There was no animosity between them. It was as if they were playing a game. But I did not know the rules and, in any case, I had no wish to join in. Leigh watched them with interest. It was at that moment my head suddenly caught up with my heart and I understood, right there and then, how I loved and wanted this man. And, immediately after this revelation, I realized I had just invited into his home the young woman most likely to prevent him even looking at me again, let alone growing to love me. As if to underline my thoughts, Netta stood up and turned to face Leigh.
‘Is it true you take pictures of women with no clothes on?’
‘Sometimes I wear clothes, sometimes, not. Depends on the woman.’
‘Really? Anyway, I meant the women wear no clothes.’
‘When I take a picture of a woman I like her nude. And I mean completely unclothed.’
I did not remind him of the pictures he had taken of Abby and the other girls with their knickers or hot pants on; stuff for glamour magazines and papers where they didn’t like to see pubic hair or anything naked below the waist. Nor did I mention the pictures he had taken of me, fully clothed, in York. It seemed inappropriate.
To my horror, Netta pulled her dress off over her head. ‘Like this?’
Mum seemed completely unsurprised by her display. And Leigh just examined her and made a small sign to make her turn slowly in front of him as the flames flickered warm light up her perfect skin.
‘Will I do?’
‘To the eye, you’re perfect. The camera’s a little more discerning. Have to do a test shoot to be sure, but you have all the makings. It’s just possible your face is too individual to photograph well; difficult to know. The lens likes bland, and there’s no way I could describe you as that, Netta.’
‘Doesn’t she worry you when she acts like this, Mum?’
‘She’s perfectly safe. We’re here and Leigh knows about women. No, I’m not worried. I’m very proud of my beautiful young daughter. Proud of her looks, proud of her confidence. That’s all down to the way I’ve raised her. Aren’t you proud of your looks, Faith? You’re a very pretty girl, you know. My colouring, rather than your dad’s, of course. That’s where Netta has the advantage over you. She’s taken her dad’s colouring for her hair and eyes where you inherited mine.’
‘The B’s got dark hair and brown eyes. Haven’t I got his colouring as well?’
Mum looked at me quizzically and then made a face of sudden realization. ‘Of course! Silly me. You wouldn’t know. How could you? Heacham’s no more your father than he is Netta’s.’
Leigh looked with interest at all three of us. Netta stared at our mother expectantly. Then the meaning sank in. ‘You mean you left me with that twisted, perverted bastard even though you knew he wasn’t my father? I lived with that…that creature for all those years and did his bidding, worked my heart out, stripped naked for him, suffered all that misery and he’s not even my father?’
‘I had no choice, Faith. You can’t know what that evil bastard was like. I lived in …’
‘Fear? So did I, Mother! I lived with him for longer than you did. Of course I know what he’s like! I fed him and did his washing and cleaned his house, suffered his perverted beatings, acted as a living fantasy for his foul sexual practices and nursed his other daughter…I suppose Hope is his daughter, is she?’
‘Oh yes. The only one of the three of you that was his and she had to be like that. Hardly surprising. A man like that. What else would you expect of his seed? Hope’s his all right. I just wish she wasn’t mine.’
‘It’s not her fault she’s ...she’s disabled.’
‘It’s not mine, either.’
‘If Heacham’s not Faith’s father, who is?’
I was grateful for Leigh’s timely intervention. Again, things were not going the way I had dreamed for this meeting with my family.
Mum gathered herself and took a deep breath but I could not tell whether this was to prepare herself for a difficult task or to dampen her own emotions. ‘Faith’s dad. There was a man. David Lengdon. Professor Lengdon now, I expect. He went to the States on an exchange and I never saw him again. He never knew I was carrying you. I often wonder what would’ve happened if he had. No Hope and no Netta, I expect. He was a lovely man. My only real love.’
‘Where is he now, Mum?’
‘No idea. Like I said, he went to the States. I lost track of him; didn’t want to hold him back. Anyway, it’s water under the bridge. No point going over old ground again. But he gave you your brains; I gave you your looks.’
‘What about my dad?’ Netta had settled herself on the lamb’s wool rug in front of the fire where Leigh could ogle her whenever he wished, which was most of the time.
‘You know better than that, Netta. Put your dress back on, love. You’ve made your point.’
‘Why did the B marry you if you were pregnant with another man’s child?’
‘Told you she was direct, didn’t I?’ Leigh dragged his eyes away from Netta, who was making a sexual pantomime of replacing her dress.
Mum smiled at me and I knew I was being indulged, and that took some of the sting out of the way I felt.
‘I was young, pregnant and single, Faith. Your father was out of the country and I didn’t intend to ruin his career by dragging him back here just so he could make an honest woman of me. But in those days, a single girl with a baby was a social outcast. Heacham had always given me the eye. I was nineteen and very pretty and he was a fool. First time I got him drunk, I thought I’d overdone it. He just couldn’t get it up. But I fell asleep beside him without my knickers and woke up later to find him shagging me like a rabbit. Didn’t take long for me to cotton on that I had to be as near dead as possible before he would or could do me. I was very soon bored with that. He kept me on a tight rein but where there’s a will ...’
‘A willie, Mum.’
She pulled a face at Netta’s remark. ‘Hope came along and nearly died at birth. Wish she had. God alone knows why they try so hard to keep such rejects alive. Should’ve let her go, poor thing. What sort of life has she had?
‘I had the occasional fling without getting caught. Had a long, infrequent affair with Netta’s dad. Great bloke but a bit of a lad then. He’s settled down now, of course. Wife and three kids of his own. Still has half the girls in the country screaming and wanting him in their knickers whenever he steps on stage.’
Netta sat up; she had learned more about her father than Mum had ever told her before. If she expected to hear more, she was quickly disappointed.
Mum just smiled at some memory and went on. ‘I suppose it was inevitable that gossip would reach Heacham’s ears. When it did, he thrashed me with his belt, told me Netta wasn’t his and I must take her and go. I told him you weren’t his either, but he wouldn’t believe me. I’ve no idea why. Maybe he did, really; maybe he saw how much you meant to me and used you to punish me, I don’t know. But the bastard threatened all of us with violence if I ever came anywhere near you or the cottage. I begged him to let me write to you and he conceded that but, of course, he never intended to let you have the letters. Bastard.
‘I came into the village once or twice in the hope of seeing you. I daren’t let myself be known and I never brought Netta, just in case. I doubt I saw you more than half a dozen times in all those early years. It became clear the bastard was keeping you at home and I did worry for your safety and welfare, but there seemed nothing I could do. You don’t know how pleased and relieved I was to get that letter from Longhouse, Faith. I’m so glad we’ve met again. You don’t hate me too much, do you?’
There were tears in her eyes and Netta was looking at her in a strange way. I held Mum’s hands and looked into her lovely face. ‘Hate you, Mum? I could never do that. I wish you hadn’t abandoned me and left me with that cruel bastard but I’m sure you thought it was for the best at the time. I forgive you. I like what I’ve seen of you and I’d love to get to know you better. I want a proper mum to love me and guide me. Will you be my friend, will you accept me back as your daughter even after all this time?’
‘Try and stop me!’ She pulled me close and we hugged for a long time.
Bored with our emotional display, Netta sauntered over to the radiogram. ‘Bit yesterday, Leigh. I thought you’d have a proper hi-fi.’
‘One day. It was Uncle Fred’s and I’m reluctant to part with it. By all means stick a record on if you want.’
She perused the selection and found the records were more up to date than the equipment. It was not long before Queen were singing Bohemian Rhapsody. Later there was Donna Summer singing ‘Love to Love You Baby’ with Netta dancing to the music in a way that ensured Leigh had eyes for nothing else.
I doubt he even noticed me leaving for bed but I went up that night feeling more complete than I ever had. Mum was in the spare room across the corridor and we spent ages together, me sitting on the edge of the spare bed as she told me about her life in the market town to the south. It was not the life I would choose but she enjoyed it and I could not blame her for that. I was glad she was happy and felt fulfilled, even if she did seem promiscuous and licentious. What mattered was that she was my mum and she loved me and wanted me for her daughter.
It hardly seemed to matter just then that Netta, who should have been in the bed I was sitting on, was sharing Leigh’s and building walls between him and my belated hopes. For the moment, I had a mum again, and I thought that was enough.


###

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Read My Novel, Free: Chapter 16

on Friday, May 4, 2012

Great! You're still here. Thanks. I hope you're enjoying the read.


I posted Chapter 1 on 13 January. Following chapters appear each Friday. Find them via the archive.

Read, enjoy, invite your friends.

Chapter 16

Saturday 3rd April

When morning brought consciousness, my first thought was that I must face him again, must go back, apologize for my behaviour and beg his forgiveness. I was not sure I was up to it. I wasn’t even certain any more that I felt as sorry as I should, or had been as wicked as he accused.
There was a knock on my door.
‘Come in.’ I had to pull the cover up quickly as Leigh entered, carrying a tray with breakfast on it. He grinned at me, placed the tray on the cabinet beside the bed and unhooked a housecoat from the back of the door.
‘Modesty returns, eh? Pop this on. I’ll wait on the landing ‘til you’re decent.’
I slipped the towelling robe over my aching limbs and body, wrapping it protectively across my front, wondering what he meant about modesty and surprised by his cheerfulness. ‘Okay.’
He sat on the edge of my bed as I ate toast and drank tea with difficulty through my swollen lips.
‘I thought you’d be at work.’
‘Saturday.’
It should have been Friday.
‘You slept through most of yesterday. How are you feeling?’
I felt physically drained and my back and legs were sore. My mouth felt more uncomfortable than painful. ‘All right.’
‘Paul thought you might be a bit tearful. I don’t have the usual male fear of women’s tears, so don’t worry if you suddenly feel the need to weep.’
‘I don’t feel like crying, Leigh. I feel quite normal, really. Who’s Paul?’
‘Sorry, the doctor.’
‘Doctor?’
‘He examined you on Thursday; gave you something to help you sleep. Don’t you remember?’
I shook my head. Thursday was mostly blank. I recalled my return to the cottage and Father’s beating, but beyond that, nothing concrete.
‘Perhaps that’s just as well.’
Leigh had something on his mind, wanted to tell me something. ‘Out with whatever it is. I’m strong enough.’
‘You amaze me. I think I’ve got you sussed and then you go and surprise me again.’
He expected me to respond but I could think of nothing to say.
‘There’s no easy way of saying this, Faith. Your father’s in police custody.’
He let that sink in. At first, I thought I had misheard him but repeating the words in my head made no difference. ‘Because of me?’
‘No. Though you ought to charge the bastard with assault. No, not because of you, Faith, because of what he did to Hope.’
Now I knew I was hearing things. ‘Hope? Father would never harm Hope. He adores her. She’s his little angel, his piece of Heaven on Earth, his innocent amongst the sinners. He would never hurt Hope. You must be mistaken.’
‘I don’t know how to say this, Faith. I thought you must at least have some suspicions but I’m beginning to think, unlikely as it seems, you might not have known after all. I sincerely hope you didn’t…’
‘What? What’s happened to Hope?’
He leant forward and took my hand, squeezed it in such a way that I went cold at the prospect of what he might say. I wanted him to speak but did not want to hear the news of her death that I dreaded.
‘Your father’s been repeatedly raping Hope, since she was about twelve.’
Madness.
‘No.’
I could find no way to express my disbelief.
‘No!’
‘I’m sorry, Faith. I caught your father in the act, on Thursday, when I went to tackle him about you.’
‘It’s a mistake. Somehow it looked like that but he was…’
‘I didn’t knock, Faith. I walked in and he was raping her in the kitchen. She was making a high, keening sound each time he….’
‘Hope never makes a sound. She’s mute.’
‘I know this is hard for you, but I actually separated him from her. There’s no doubt he was raping her. In any case, he admitted it to the police and social services.’
I stared at him for what seemed an age whilst my mind tried to absorb this impossible news. Leigh watched me intently, his eyes never leaving mine. ‘Father was…? How could I not…? No. It doesn’t ... I can’t believe… I need to think. Can I be alone?’
He stood, gave my hand a gentle squeeze and bent to kiss my forehead. ‘I’ll be downstairs when you need me.’
I moved as soon as he left the room and went to look out of the window for no better reason than I needed to move.
Father was my rock, my foundation. Everything I was and everything I believed was based in him. If he was this evil creature that Leigh had described, what did that make me?
‘Leigh? Leigh!’
He was back in the room in an instant.
‘What about Hope? Is she hurt? Is she...? Where is she? Not still …?’
‘Hope seems unhurt, a little sore. But no real damage. I suspect because she couldn’t resist, she escaped the violence a lot of rape victims suffer. She’s fine, and safe. They’ve taken her to a residential home. Your father’s in the police cells for the moment. I hope he rots there.’
His face expressed utter disgust and contempt for the man who had brought me up. He expected me to challenge him in some way.
‘You think I knew.’
He was silent for too long for his denial to be true.
‘Oh, Leigh, I didn’t know, I promise you I didn’t. I don’t know what to … I’m so angry and hurt and unhappy and confused. My father. My own father.’ I turned back to the window and willed him to leave me to my shame and pain. I felt the softest touch on my shoulder and then he was gone.
I wept. Words punctuating my tears were random thoughts my mind gave out. Confusion mastered me as I wallowed in a quicksand of emotion, doubt and betrayal that threatened to drown and consume me. I could find no solid ground. There was nothing I could grip and hold for support.
‘I think it’s time we dried those tears.’
He was there, helping me up so I could sit on the floor. He knelt beside me and dabbed my face and eyes with tissues. I held onto him; he was the only solid in my fluid world and I would not let him go.
I had rarely wept before, even after he had beaten me. Father discouraged such displays and I had striven hard to please him.
Leigh eased me to my feet and to the edge of the bed. He dabbed softly at the last silent tears, cupped my chin gently in his other hand. ‘Better?’
I nodded.
‘I’ve brought your clothes to Longhouse. Do you want to dress for the evening meal, or are you more comfortable as you are?’
‘May I have a bath?’
‘Bath, shower. Help yourself. Treat Longhouse as your home, Faith. Once you’ve had time to collect your thoughts and work things out, you can decide whether you want to stay here or find a small place of your own. Your toothbrush and other toilet things are in the bathroom across the corridor. This can be your room for the moment. Later on, you can have a look at the other rooms and see if you’d prefer one of those.
‘Don’t be too long, now. Ma’s got the meal on and you know how she is about punctuality at the table. You’ve got about half an hour.’
He left me to it and I considered all he had said. There were too many new ideas there. I wanted no more questions for the moment, no more doubts, no choices. I must accept what he said as the reality of my situation for the moment. Later I could give it some thought and decide what I should do. For the moment, practicality was what I needed. And I must not be late down for the meal.
I discovered my clothes, both old and new, hanging in the wardrobe and folded in the drawers, all the creases of Father’s abuse ironed out. In the bathroom, I examined the shower but decided to work out its mysteries later. The bath water was deliciously hot. I could close the door and even slide a bolt across for privacy, if I wished. The bubble bath smelt of flowers and left me feeling soft and sweet skinned. There was a soft, clean, fluffy towel. The floor was carpeted and there was a soft rug beside the bath to step on whilst I dried myself. A radiator heated the room and a hot rail dried the towels. I realized what simple luxuries I had missed in Father’s house.
As usual, the table was heaving with food. Ma always cooked to feed a regiment and I suspected she was trying to fatten me up and put some flesh on my bones. They all smiled at me as I entered. I had put on the dress Leigh had bought me in York. But wore it with my shoulders covered this time.
‘You look very nice, Faith.’
I tried to smile at Ma.
‘Smashing.’
A nod at Old Hodge.
‘Very pretty.’ Leigh still seemed slightly distant and I guessed he was either ashamed of me or still not convinced I had been completely ignorant about what Father had done to Hope. I shrugged and sat at the table opposite Old Hodge, with Leigh to my left. They gave me a couple of minutes so I could say my private grace before the meal. Somehow, the words rang hollow in my head and I stopped half way through, unable to continue with sincerity.
After the meal, Leigh took me into the sitting room for coffee whilst Ma fed the new dishwasher before going home with Old Hodge. We listened to quiet piano music that Leigh identified as Chopin Nocturnes. He drank scotch with his coffee and poured a small measure of some sweet and pleasant liqueur into mine without asking. The fire roared in the grate, casting flickering shadows across the room and warming me inside as well as out.
Leigh moved from his chair to the sofa and patted it for me to sit beside him. I had no idea what he intended but joined him. From the floor, he picked up a small wooden box, from the cottage, and placed it on his lap. There was a single envelope on top addressed to me in neat purple handwriting.
‘Recognize the box?’
I knew it at once. ‘Father said…I don’t want to call him that now. I don’t know what to call him. I don’t want to swear.’
‘Compromise. You want to refer to him as “that bastard” or something similar. Just use the initial.’
I could do that. ‘The B said I was never to touch that, on pain of a severe beating every day for a week.’
‘Bastard. I’m not surprised. It reveals what a liar and a shit he really is.’
‘What’s in it?’
‘The same as this. Except this one’s addressed to you here and those in the box are addressed to the cottage.’
‘From my mother?’
‘From your mother. I’ve read some, Faith. I wanted to be sure there was nothing to harm you. Are you up to another weep; for different reasons?’
He was as different from my ... from the B as it was possible to be. He cared about me, cared about my feelings, consulted me, was considerate. So why was he still being distant? Why was he different from the way he was in York? I wanted him back like that. I wanted him warm and friendly with sparkling eyes that looked at me with wonder. Somehow, I had to find a way to make him see me as he had that day. Somehow, I had to regain the respect and affection he had shown me. I had to become worthy of him again. But I had no idea how.
‘Yes, I’m ready.’ I wanted to know why my mother had abandoned me and never come back.
I put out my hand and he handed me the most recent letter first. It was still sealed. He trusted my mother to write what would not hurt me. The other letters must have told him a good deal about her.
I had never received a private letter before. Leigh handed me the letter opener from the mantelpiece; a silver knife with a naked woman forming the handle. I weighed it in my hand for a moment and Leigh silently accused me of condemnation whilst I was actually considering the beautiful workmanship. The blunt blade slipped easily into the flap and opened the envelope. Three sheets of thick note paper nestled within and I drew them out with trembling fingers.

‘Dear Faith,
Letters don’t come naturally to me. I speak better than I write on personal issues. It’s so important I get this right. I just hope you’ll be able to hear my voice as you read it.
First of all, I did reply to all your previous letters and posted them to the cottage where you live. I can only assume your shit of a father never let you read them.
I was intrigued to learn that you’re now working for Leighton Longshaw. I know of him and gather he’s a real ladies’ man. I hope you’re taking full advantage!
It’s so hard to know what to tell you and where to begin. Why don’t you know when your birthday is? Anyway, you’ll be 21 on 5th August and I’d love to be able to see you before then, if I could.
I don’t know what Paul Heacham has told you about me and your sister, Netta, except that he probably still refers to her as Charity, a name she hates. She’ll be 18 on 11th July, by the way. Mind you, she’s been acting like a mature woman for years, so her birthday just means she’ll be doing more things legally.
I do love you, Faith. It broke my heart to leave you when you were just six but I had no choice. Paul Heacham’s a vicious and brutal man and he threatened you as well as Netta and me with violence if I made any trouble. That’s why I’ve never been back. He said he’d make sure you were hurt if I tried to see you. Hope, of course, was always safe because he knew she was his.
I expect life has been hard for you, living with that cretin and a younger sister who will still be a baby. I bet she’s huge, like a beached whale, isn’t she?
 I was encouraged when your letter came and told me you were working, especially for that wicked, lovely man. I hope he’s giving you as much as you can take. I admit I’m jealous. I saw him once and he’s a real dish. Still, I’d better not say too much on that score or you might not let me meet him!
Look, it’s really too difficult trying to explain so much to you, after all this time, by letter. My phone number’s at the top. Give me a call and, if you like, I’ll drive over with Netta, and perhaps that lovely man would let us all meet at Longhouse? I really daren’t go to Heacham’s cottage; I think he’d kill me, and I know Netta wouldn’t be safe either.
Call me soon. I’m dying to meet you.
All my love,
Matilda, oops, sorry, Mum!’

I read it through four times. It said so much and so little to me. I felt elated, frightened, embarrassed, curious, impatient and confused. Leigh sat silently beside me, watching and waiting. I handed him that letter and turned to the box to read the older ones.
Leigh had opened only three of them, almost at random, it seemed. The B had clearly not even opened them before he had hidden them in the box. I wondered why he had kept them, knowing I could have stumbled on them at any time. And, that, of course, was the reason: he was so certain of his hold over me that he knew I would never disobey him by opening the box. It must have given him a sense of great power to have that box under his bed, knowing I could open it each time I cleaned his room and knowing, with absolute certainty, that I would not. How blind had been my obedience to that monster.
The letters, nearly two dozen, were mostly included with birthday cards and most held money, a lot of which was no longer legal tender since decimalization. But my mother had been generous and I counted enough from the later letters to buy me a couple of new outfits. The letters told of her love and her wish to meet me but they told me little more about her than the first letter I had read. There was a lot in them about my sister who she described as beautiful and, in the later letters, as a very popular girl with the men.
I heard Leigh chuckle beside me and knew he had reached the part about him and my mother’s advice to take advantage. It highlighted her ignorance of the reality of her eldest daughter. I realized she had no idea how the B had raised me. It was disturbing to learn that she was the exact opposite of him as far as I could tell from her letters. She loved men and sex was obviously a favourite pastime for her. She was wise to suspect my caution over her meeting Leigh.
‘So, when are we to meet this interesting lady and her other daughter?’
‘You think I should meet her?’
‘Of course you must! Don’t you want to?’
‘In some ways I’m desperate to know her but in others I’m not sure she’d be good for me.’
‘You need the sense of fun and love of life she clearly has. She’s responsible for half of your genes. Your looks must have come from her since Heacham’s such an ugly, sour-looking bastard. Don’t you want to know what she looks like?’
‘You want to know what she looks like, Leigh. I’m more interested in what she’s like as a person.’
‘She sounds fascinating to me. I know I’d like to meet her.’
‘She’d obviously like to meet you. It might not be sensible for me to encourage that.’
‘Not jealous, are you?’ Leigh put his hand to his mouth very briefly as if he regretted his words.
I wondered what was behind his gesture, when he would previously have made a joke about it, but let it go. ‘Jealous? No. I don’t really understand that emotion. But I do know I’d be in danger of paling by comparison with her and, by all accounts, my youngest sister. And I’m just learning how important it is that you see me in a positive light. I have feelings about you that I don’t fully understand but I know I’d like you to feel the same way about me. It might be harder for you to see me if there were other attractive women about.’
On the other hand, I felt an overpowering need to impress Leigh as soon as I could in some positive way. My mother and sister might make up for some of my missing qualities and I could see no real reason to keep them away. They were hardly likely to do anything to hurt me, after all.
Leigh looked seriously bemused. I tried a smile but my lips refused to co-operate so I had to resort to stroking his face as a gesture of my affection. ‘Poor, Leigh, so confused. I suppose you’re going to meet them some time, so I might as well make it sooner than later. May I invite them here for my first meeting, please? I don’t really want to go out anywhere looking like this.’
‘Invite who you wish, when you want, Faith. For the moment, this is your home. But, if you’ll follow my advice, you’ll wait a little while before you meet your mum and sister. You need time to adjust to your new situation, time to get better. I think both of you would be better off meeting once you’re fully recovered.’
‘But I can invite them whenever I like?’
‘This is your home, Faith. And, at home, you may do as you please. I know you need some guidance, so I’ll lay down the ground rules of life at Longhouse: there are only two: Treat my things as you’d wish your own to be treated. Allow people the privacy they prefer in their bedroom and the bathroom. Otherwise, there are no rules. If you want to listen to music, listen. If you want to watch telly, watch. If you want to dance naked on the kitchen table… well, anyway, do what you please. This is now your home and I know I can trust you to treat it with respect and me and my friends with consideration. And I know you’ll accord me the same freedoms. A word of warning. I wear nothing in bed and I don’t bother to cover up on the way to and from the bathroom.’
That no longer mattered; I had seen him naked with models more than once. ‘I don’t wear anything in bed either. Seems an odd thing to do if it’s not cold. But I will be covering myself on the way to the bathroom.’
‘Faith, you’re a singular woman, a living contradiction; confusion manifest and I’m in serious danger of ... It’s high time you were in bed. I want you well again as soon as possible.’
I silently wondered why.


###

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4 May 1972 - Make a Wave Committee changed its name to Greenpeace. I joined the organisation a year or so after it made its first faltering steps into the UK, in the late 1970s as I recall. It's made some mistakes but its heart has always been in the right place and it's an organisation I'd recommend to all those who have any sense of concern for our wonderful planet.

4 May - Star Wars Day - May the fourth be with you!


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Read My Novel, Free: Chapter 14.

on Friday, April 13, 2012

It's great you're still here. Thanks. Enjoy the read.


I posted Chapter 1 on 13 January and following chapters appear each Friday. You'll find them via the archive.

Read, enjoy, invite your friends.


Chapter 14

Thursday 1st April

Father all but dragged me in and closed the door as Leigh turned his back. He was rough with me; such a contrast to Leigh’s gentle touch. He stared at me with a look I hadn’t seen in his eyes before and refused to recognize. I heard the car start and knew Leigh had gone.
Only then did Father start on me. ‘Whore! Jezebel! Showing the world your nakedness. Get those whore’s rags off. I’ll show you the penalty for such wantonness. Take them off before I rip them from your sinful flesh!’
I was proud of myself that night. I stood my ground, for the first time ever. ‘Father, I’m going to my room where I shall close the door and get ready for bed. You will not come in. Good night.’
He was apoplectic. He grasped my wrist and held me as he raised his other hand. ‘Don’t talk to me like that, idiot girl.’
‘Strike me and I’ll walk out of here now, Father. Forever.’
He hesitated, and doubt clouded his face.
‘I will. I’ll leave you to cope; without my help and without my earnings.’
‘You’re a wicked, ungrateful child. Up to your room and prepare for the beating you deserve. I’ll grant you privacy to put off those devil’s rags before I come in with the strap to save your soul with pain and sorrow.’
‘I do mean it, Father. Touch me and I’ll go for good.’ I pulled my hand free and took the carriers from the floor. I walked upstairs slowly, without a backward glance. Hope was uncovered, with no nappy for protection. ‘If you leave her like that, Father, you’ll have her mess to clean up in the morning.’
In my room, I closed the door and pushed the chair against it, moved the bed against the chair and then sat down before my trembling legs collapsed. It was the first time I’d defied Father. And I’d done it because Leigh had shown me I was a person, a person worthy of respect. That I reacted to the situation with fear on top of my courage simply showed me how wrong Father was in his attitudes and behaviour. I would have something to say about that in the morning.
There was no mirror in my room. Nothing but a small chest of drawers to hold my clothes. I sat on the bed and thought about my joyful, extraordinary day and the miserable contrast of my homecoming.
I thought about leaving home and finding somewhere else to live. Hope would miss my care. Father would have a hard time without my help and my income. Perhaps in my talk with Father I could explain that I was no longer a child, but a woman needing to be treated in a different way. Perhaps I could get him to see that I’d changed, get him to agree to a new, more liberated way of living. That way, we could both have some of what we needed out of life.
Father stomped up the stairs and tried my door. I was too tired to reason with him just then and pretended to be asleep. I heard him, hovering on the landing for a while before he went into the bathroom. Then the house was silent and I sat in contemplation for a long time
At last, I removed Leigh’s gifts with care, folding them in a pile on top of the chest. I’d never considered my nakedness at bedtime as other than a normal state before. The cold was something I lived with but I hadn’t felt exposed or vulnerable. At the door, I stood and listened and heard only silence from the house. Father was asleep.
I moved the chair quietly and opened the door wide enough to view the narrow landing. It was clear. I crossed the landing, cleaned my teeth and splashed my face. All the time, I was conscious of some unspecified risk, an anxiety I’d never felt before. But shrugging it off as tiredness, I slipped silently down to the toilet.
It was cold outside, the stars sharp and glittering against a black as deep as velvet. Cold for that short time was nothing to me. I’d done this autumn, winter, spring and summer for years.
When I returned to the back door, I discovered my punishment. Father had locked me out. I hammered on the door, shouted, threatened and pleaded. But I could shout and scream all night and no one would be wiser. Our cottage was half a mile from any other habitation.
‘Think you’d defy me, girl? The night will cool you.’
‘Let me in, Father. I’m not a child any more.’
‘You’ll stay out there all night and cool your unnatural passion.’
‘I think it’s you who’s unnatural, Father. Let me in.’
He was silent at that for a moment.
‘I shall destroy those rags so you cannot sin in them again.’
‘Leave me out here if you will, Father. But damage those clothes and I swear I’ll leave here tomorrow and walk all the way to Longhouse, through the village, stark naked.’
He was silent but I knew he was still behind the door.
‘I mean it, Father. I swear I will, on the Bible.’ I knew he wouldn’t destroy them after I made an oath like that.
‘May God save your wicked soul.’
‘Let me in, Father.’
But he had gone.
I returned to the small stone-floored room and sat on the cold wooden seat and waited for the night to end. The long, black night of retribution.
So cold. The seat was cold. The walls were cold. The stone flags of the floor were cold. The very air that wrapped my skin was cold. I ached with cold. I hugged myself and shivered through that endless night without sleep.
Dawn crept slowly up the sky and pinked the tiny, frosted window. Father wouldn’t leave me outside, where prying eyes might see me, once daylight announced the start of my working day.
I found the back door unlocked and I stepped into the kitchen, grateful for the relative warmth.
Father had gone back to his room. He wouldn’t dare beat me after my threat, knowing his punishment of a night outside was risk enough. I would go upstairs, put on my lovely soft underwear and new trouser suit, take breakfast on my own in the kitchen and then set off for Longhouse, meeting Leigh as he came to collect me. He would be surprised and pleased to see me and we’d kiss before I sat in the car beside him. After that, I was unsure what might happen, I had no experience of what lovers did together. But life was spread before me in splendour and bright colours of joy.
I went through the sitting room toward my bedroom and Father stepped from behind the door and grabbed me. He dragged me across the back of his armchair. Grasping me with one strong hand in my hair, he lashed my back, my buttocks, my thighs, my shoulders and my flailing arms with the buckle end of his leather strap.
‘Think you’d escape God’s punishment? You’re a fool. Always been a fool. Born a fool. Grown up a fool. And now a whore as well. Whore again and next time I’ll do the Lord’s work with a stick to break your bones and spill your blood for your sins. Evil, wicked girl. Loathsome Jezebel. Vile, ungrateful whore!’
He stopped only when his arm was tired. I struggled to escape and to defend myself but made no sound. He tore his hand from my hair and brought the back of it across my face, back and forth, as I rose up. My teeth cut through my lip and the tips of his fingers slashed across my eye.
Unsteady from the beating and my night outside in the cold, I stumbled away without a word and clambered up the stairs. The clothes were scattered on the floor, trampled and creased but not cut or torn, as I’d feared. Anxious that blood from my injured mouth and bleeding nose might stain my fine new clothes, I dressed in what I’d worn to travel to York the previous day. In the bathroom, I staunched the bleeding with cold water, cleaned my teeth with difficulty and untangled my hair as best I could without a mirror.
I took my few possessions out of my chest of drawers and piled them on the bed. With a belt and woollen scarf, I tied them into a bundle, which I left on the bed. Leigh’s gifts I folded and took with me in the carrier bags.
Downstairs, Father was still breathing heavily. I heard but did not look at him. ‘Where do you think you’re going, girl?’
I stared at him as he sat so confident of my defeat and subjugation in his chair by a fire that was dying, waiting for me to rebuild it and rekindle the flames. I couldn’t bear to be with him a moment longer. I had to go. I had to leave that house with all its memories of sorrow and pain. I took my coat from its peg by the door and, from the corner of my eye, saw him move.
‘Touch me again and I’ll never come back. Ever. I promise you.’
He remained where he was, half in, half out of his chair. Something in my tone stopped him coming closer.
‘You’ll be back, my girl. Come crawling back, begging my forgiveness once he’s had his way with you and tossed you aside like all the others. You’ll come back. And I’ll have you. But you’ll regret your whoring till your dying days. You’ll beg me to save your soul and I’ll beat the Devil from your worthless hide each day until you know what sorrow and repentance mean.’
I left, determined not to return to that house except to collect my few possessions.
It was far too early for Leigh but I began to walk to Longhouse, keeping on the road I knew he would use, instead of trekking over the fields. I was slow because of the cold night, the beating and the lack of breakfast.
As soon as I was on the road and the first elation of escape began to fade, the familiar and habitual feelings of guilt and shame came abruptly to swamp the relief. A lifetime of obedience and correction cannot be so easily defeated. I was filled with self-loathing at my behaviour. I had questioned Father. I had disobeyed him. I had fallen far short of his standards. I had let him down. I was wicked.
After all he had done for me, I had abandoned him. Left him to fend for himself and care for Hope alone. How could I do such a thing? How could I even begin to think I knew better?
But, in spite of everything that my mind declared, my battered, tired, pain-filled body moved me instinctively away from him and toward Longhouse.
I would return. I would beg his forgiveness and accept the beating I deserved for my disobedience and wickedness. Father knew best, as he always had and always would. I was a fool, a simple girl with no knowledge of the world and its ways. He would guide me into the right paths, save my soul from damnation and set me on the road to salvation again. Pain and shame and suffering were all part of God’s plan, all measures to bring us back into the fold when we strayed and lost our way amongst the pleasures of the flesh.
I would return Leigh’s gifts and explain that I must not wear such devil’s rags. And, as penance, I would work naked and shamed in the cottage so that God could see the stripes of my wickedness and Father could correct me at once should I transgress again and thus save my soul and purify my flesh.
Leigh met me a mile from Longhouse and the look on his face as he pulled up, confirmed my doubts. He was all scorn and contempt, in spite of his offers of help. Father had been right, as he always was. When Leigh asked, I shook my head and asked him to take me to work. I had no energy to explain or to walk the rest of the way, as I should.
I had disappointed him as well. He said nothing against me, but winced every time he looked at me. Once at Longhouse, I went into the office and took off my coat as he yelled for Ma. I had lost Father’s small respect and now I had lost Leigh’s as well. I was worthless and wicked; a sinner of the worst kind. Of no value to Father, unworthy of Leigh’s kindness, unloved in the sight of God. Something inside me crumpled and left me hollow and without a shred of energy.
Ma came in a stared at me; obviously disgusted by what she saw. ‘What the Dickens?’
I stood before them; a worthless, useless girl. I had no emotion left. I hurt and I was shamed and, even though I understood it should not matter, I knew I had lost all the sweet affection Leigh had shown me the day before. It should not matter, but it did.
‘Are you hurt anywhere else?’ Ma’s concern seemed oddly genuine.
I shrugged and winced as the coarse material rubbed on the welts and wheals left by Father’s strap.
‘Let me see, love.’
She was too kind. I deserved only censure and scorn. I was a Jezebel, a whore. What did it matter if I became naked in front of him now? I had lost any dignity I might have had and deserved no consideration. I undressed completely and let them see my punishment; let them see how wicked I was and how my righteous father had striped me with God’s justice.
‘Jesus, Ma. Think she needs a doctor?’
Ma led me up to the bathroom where she tended my wounds with cotton wool and dilute disinfectant that stung. She was gentle and I tried not to cry, but the tears came anyway as if I had no volition. I know I did not sob or weep with noise, but my eyes leaked water down my face and I could not stop them.
Ma dabbed me dry with such gentility, all the while muttering about the brute under her breath so that I understood she was mistaken and thought Father was in the wrong. She sat me on a spare bed as she examined my face.
‘There’s nothing I can do there, love. The Doctor’ll know if you need stitches in that lip. You’re going to have a beautiful shiner. Lie on your front and I’ll put some ointment on those stripes.’
I did as I was told; obedient now I had been punished for my wickedness, reminded of my place. How could she be so kind when she should despise and scorn me? I had deserved my beating. Father had warned me often enough about loose behaviour. I had acted scandalously and dressed in a provocative way. I had even asked Leigh if I could spend the night with him. I thanked Heaven he had been so disgusted at me that he had not taken advantage.
As always, I was wrong. My false pride and earlier conviction that I was right had kept me going through the cold night, had sealed my lips against the screams of pain and anger, indignation and shame that wanted to burst from my lips as Father beat me, and had given me strength to leave the house without feeding him. But I had been wrong. Father, as always, had been right.
‘Lie there and try not to turn on your back, love. I’ll find something light to cover you and keep you warm.’
‘I’m warm enough.’ A direct lie in a good cause. I must suffer to save my soul, or be damned for eternity. Father had born the pain of punishing me so I might be spared the eternal fires of Hell. The least I could do in return was suffer a little without complaint.
‘You sure, love? It’s none too warm up here.’
‘I’m fine, really.’
‘Doctor’ll be here some time later. Try to sleep until he arrives.’
‘I ought to work, really, Ma. I’ll be…’
‘You’ll do as you’re told, young lady! You’re to rest. A beating like that can’t be shrugged off so easily. Your poor body needs time to recover. Now, you lie still and sleep, there’s a good lass. I’ll pull the door to, so you’re not on display if Leigh comes up. Sure you don’t want me to cover you?’
‘What’s it matter? He’s seen all there is of me to see. I deserve only contempt and disgust.’
For a while I could detect her standing there, looking at me with that same loathing they must all feel. Then she left and pulled the door closed. My tears were still falling and wetting the pillow but, for some reason, I could not stop them. The doctor would come and tell me to get back to work and I would go down to the office and get on with my job in spite of Leigh’s silent disapproval.
Later, I would go back to the cottage and beg Father’s forgiveness and hope he would not be too disgusted with me, would not scourge me again until my skin had healed. I would kneel before him, show him my shame and confess my guilt on my knees at his feet so he might think me worthy once more.


###

You've come this far, so it's unlikely you'll stop now. But, just in case you're impatient for the next chapter, you know where you can buy the book.


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Read My Novel, Free: Chapter 9.

on Friday, March 9, 2012

You've come this far, so you don't need me blathering on with stuff you already know. Enjoy the read.

If you missed the start, here's the link to it: http://stuartaken.blogspot.com/2012/01/read-free-my-novel-here.html
Chapter 1 appeared on 13 January and following chapters appear each Friday. You can find them via the archive.

Read, enjoy, invite your friends.

Chapter 9

Wednesday 31st March

We had travelled for half an hour in uncomfortable silence.
‘Have I upset you, Leigh?’
‘I don’t say much about the way you look at work, Faith, because I know you’ve no fashion sense and clothes are just covers to you. But I thought I’d made it clear today was a bit special. I mean, that dowdy old tweed skirt, a blouse that’d look better on your grandmother and those shoes that seem to be all you ever wear. And that’s hardly an evening bag, is it?’
‘I’m sorry I’m a disappointment. Perhaps you’d better take me back home.’
‘Don’t get all injured with me. I hoped you’d make an effort, that’s all.’
‘I did what I could. I took up the hem of my skirt as far as I dare, persuaded Father to let me have a bath and washed my hair last night.’
‘And that’s it?’
‘What else could I do?’
‘Oh, come on! A bit of make up? Your best dress or skirt? A pair of new shoes? I’m sure you could…’
‘Oh, you’re sure are you? It’s easy for you, Leigh. You have a wardrobe full of clothes. Several pairs of shoes. What I’m wearing is what I have, Leigh. I can’t do better than that. Unless you’d have me travel in the stuff I wear for housework? Or naked?’
His silence unnerved me but I had said enough. The day had started badly and now I had made it worse. I wished he had never suggested the trip out.
‘I’m sorry, Faith. I just assumed that… Well, you’re a young woman, earning a decent wage. I automatically assumed you’d have new clothes and make up. What else would you spend your money on?’
‘Father doesn’t work because of his back and because he has to stay home to care for Hope. My money goes into the housekeeping.’
‘All of it?’
‘All.’
Again, he was silent. The hostility had gone but his continued silence unsettled me. From Ma and Old Hodge I had learned some of the basic social skills my father had neglected. A change of subject might help.
‘I never said before, but the lift you gave me when you asked me to come back to work was the first time I’d been in a car.’
His silence persisted for a few seconds that seemed an eternity. ‘I’m an idiot. I’ve taken on a bright, gifted, generous and hardworking assistant and I know nothing about you. It’s so easy to take things for granted. So easy to assume. Faith, I need to know something of your personal history. I need to know more about you.’
It was my turn for silence. Where to begin?
‘Begin from your earliest memory and take me as far as you like.’
‘I was very young; perhaps not even four. Father was shouting at my mother. At the time, I’d no idea what caused the argument, but now I know it must’ve been when Mother finally accepted Hope would never be any different, would always be a baby. Father won’t see it. He still believes; he has faith that she’ll somehow miraculously emerge from her silent imprisonment and start to talk and walk and laugh and cry. Of course, she never will. But that was the beginning of a change that made my mother leave and abandon me when I was six.
‘I’d had my first year at school and was doing quite well, I think. In any case, I remember Mother praised me, cuddled and kissed me for my efforts. Then, one day, I was waiting for her by the school gates and she didn’t arrive. Father came at last, with Hope in her pushchair that was too small, and took me home. I haven’t seen my mother since.’
I gazed at the curling strip of tarmac flowing quietly beneath the car, unwinding as we drove over hills and vales as foreign as a distant land. Pictures of my childhood filled my mind and I was suddenly aware that Mother took all joy and laughter with her. All the days since then were grey.
‘Don’t dream it, Faith, tell me. I can’t hear your unspoken memories.’
‘Sorry. I just discovered something very sad.’
‘Tell me.’
‘When my mother left, she took all the colour with her. Father only works in black and white, mostly black.
‘Don’t grow all lyrical and metaphysical on me. Now isn’t the time for poetry. Just tell me what happened.’
‘I went to school for one more day, but Father either wouldn’t or couldn’t take me after that. He was supposed to teach me at home. At any rate, when I was about thirteen, someone came to check and he persuaded her, with my help, that he was teaching me well enough. I’d started to learn to read before school and I was quick enough to learn the rules of language so I could read well very early.
‘There was an atlas, a history of the world, an old encyclopaedia and a dictionary in the house. Father had been through them with a thick black pen, crossing out words and paragraphs. There were entire pages missing from the encyclopaedia. There was the Bible, of course, and some books of sermons by eighteenth century clerics.’
‘You had no television, I know. Radio?’
‘Father says they’re instruments of the Devil, won’t have them in the house. Same with newspapers and magazines. I’ve seen those at Mrs Greenhough’s, of course, and I can understand why Father rejects a lot of them. All that flesh and talk of sex. It’s as if nothing else matters in the world.’
‘I know you’ve only travelled within a few miles of home, so all this is new to you?’ He waved a hand at the passing countryside with its flat fields and huge sky.
‘If I had to get out of the car now, I wouldn’t even know which way to go to get back home.’
‘Any idea how far you are from home, Faith?’
‘About ten miles?’
Leigh chuckled. ‘Sixty. Another ten and we’ll be in York. One thing you can teach me regarding local geography; you once mentioned a small tarn above your cottage. I don’t know of it. Is it far?’
I smiled secretly. ‘It’s my refuge. Small but quite deep in places. It’s where I go to be alone. I discovered it one day when Father wanted me to get some fresh air and sent me off for a few hours in the summer. Later on that same summer, it’s where I learnt to swim, almost by accident.’ I was too ashamed to tell him I had been trying to drown myself because my life was so miserable.
‘I’d like to see your tarn, Faith, like to see you swimming.’
‘I bet you would! But you’re not going to.’
‘Hey, no need to get all haughty. I’m not suggesting anything improper. Your swim suit would cover your...’
‘People don’t wear suits to swim. You’re pulling my leg again, Leigh. I’m not that daft. They’d get all wet and drag you under the water.’
‘No, really, it’s a special sort of…’ He realized the import of my words even if I did not. ‘You swim nude?’
‘Of course! Doesn’t everyone?’
‘But I thought you believed it was immoral to be naked?’
‘Only in public. I don’t wear anything in the bath or in bed, so why should I wear anything to swim? There’s never anyone about. No footpaths for walkers. And I’d hear a farmer with his dogs or tractor in plenty of time.’
‘But not a peeping tom.’
‘What’s a peeping tom?’
‘Doesn’t matter. Are there trees at the tarn, or nearby?’
‘There’s a small copse of mountain ash at the southern end, a few rocks along the western shore. Why?’
‘The farm where Merv lives with his father and brothers hugs the slopes on the other side of the hill above your cottage.’
This had nothing to do with what we were talking about. ‘I know; horrible family.’
Leigh grunted. ‘That explains that.’ He was silent for a while. ‘Apart from teaching yourself your many skills, keeping house for your father, nursing Hope and cleaning that barn your father calls a chapel, what else do you do?’
‘Read and sleep mostly; of course, I only have the books Father thinks are suitable.’
‘Does your father actually do anything at all?’
‘He has a back problem. He can’t lift anything or even walk far without pain. He hides it very well, though. Some people believe there’s nothing wrong with him, but that’s because he’s so brave and uncomplaining.’
‘Or such a good actor.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘No matter. We’ll be in York in a few minutes. After we’ve found somewhere to park, and that’ll take half a day, we’ll go for coffee and then find our new typewriter. Once that’s out the way, the rest of the day is ours to have a bit of fun, do some sightseeing, okay?’
‘Sounds exciting. Is it a very big place?’
‘You know we passed through Hawes earlier on?’
‘That big market town?’
‘That big market town is a very small market town. Think of fifty of them packed together, add a few buildings four or five storeys high and you’re getting near to the size of York. And York’s not a particularly big place.’
I shook my head and let him have his joke on me. I would discover the truth when we arrived.
‘There is one thing, Faith.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘I want no argument about what I’m going to say. No refusals, no fuss. Today is a treat for you, for me as well, but mostly for you. I’m going to spend some money on you, buy you a few presents, treat you. Okay?’
‘Why?’
He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again and drove in silence for a few moments. ‘Faith, you’re extraordinary. Any other woman would’ve started suggesting things I might buy her. You just want to know why. I’m having to learn a whole new set of rules in dealing with you.’
‘You’re having to learn?’
‘Okay, fair point. Anyway, as to the “why?”, it’s quite simple. You earned me a great deal of money with your handling of those bad debtors and....’
‘I was just doing my job.’
‘Faith! I want to reward you. I want to buy you something. I want to do it, I can afford to do it, and I’m going to do it. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Mr Longshaw, sir.’
‘Good. And don’t be so cheeky.’
‘No, master.’
‘Mmm. In a couple of minutes, we’ll be on the outskirts of the city. You’ll begin to see what I mean about the size of the place. Do I have your word that you won’t argue about the presents I want to buy you?’
‘What will you expect in exchange?’
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry, Leigh. It’s just that Father said I…’
‘Your bloody father’s got a lot to answer for. And he’s wrong. Not all of us expect to be paid with sex for presents. Not all men expect a girl to whip her knickers off for the price of a dress or a piece of jewellery. Some men like to give women presents because they like to give women presents. I like to give women presents. I expect and require nothing in return. Not even your gratitude. Do I make myself clear?’
‘I keep making you angry and disappointed. I’m sorry. There’s so much I don’t know and almost everything I do know has come from Father. His views differ so much from those of most other people. Thank you for your offer, Leigh. I accept gladly and I’ll try my best not to embarrass you.’
Leigh took his hand from the steering wheel, found mine and squeezed it gently. ‘Thank you. I’ll try to remember you’re an innocent with a fanatical puritan hypocrite for a father. Here comes York.’
We were travelling in a long queue of traffic. Leigh had called Father a hypocrite and I worried about that for a moment, especially when I remembered Mrs Greenhough had said the same thing. But then the volume of traffic and the buildings took my attention instead. In fact, there were more cars visible from my seat than I had ever seen in the space of a single day before. And houses lined both sides of the street; a street that seemed to go on forever. Where did all those people go when they wanted to be alone?
There were so many people on bicycles; so many people on foot. Men with beards and flared colourful trousers, men wearing shorts and coloured vests, women with skirts as short as Abby’s, some even shorter, some a lot longer, women with bare shoulders and necklines that made their breasts obvious. People in all sorts of clothes, people with different coloured skins, people of all shapes and sizes. And a huge stone wall with an arched gateway and towers. And so many shops I could not count them. It was amazing, exciting, frightening, fascinating, wonderful, alarming, incredible.
We drove into an open space that seemed big enough to hold my entire village and Leigh parked the car amongst hundreds of other cars in an area that seemed to exist only for that purpose. He switched off the engine and laughed at me. ‘Close your mouth, Faith, you’ll catch flies.’
‘It’s… everything’s so… I’ve never seen so many… I feel so small and … there’s so much to look at and…’
‘I thought it might be a little overwhelming for you. But you’re bright and brave and I’m sure you’ll cope. Don’t stare and gape, especially at people; they’re not so tolerant of innocence in cities. Country folk are a lot more accommodating of strangeness, rather oddly. I’ll answer any question you want to ask. And, please, do ask. Don’t be afraid or embarrassed. I’d much rather you asked than made an idiot of yourself.’
‘Or of you.’
‘True. But it’s you I’m most concerned about. Right. Stay in the car whilst I get the ticket.’
‘I want to come with you, Leigh. I want to see. I want to see everything.’

###

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