Norman fled from the house. He ran across the yard, ignoring anxious questions from Ethel and Rose, and vanished down the ginnel.
Rose was the first to react. She hurried ahead of Ethel up the steps into Sylvia’s house, watched by Betty Hollings from her doorstep and by Ada from her vantage point at the window of number 6. ‘It’s us – Aunty Rose and your mum. Can we come up?’ she called from the bottom of the stairs.
Sylvia sobbed as if her heart would break. ‘Why not? Let them all come,’ she cried bitterly.
Rose climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom ahead of Ethel. She took in the scene – Hazel still busily tending to an exhausted Sylvia and Mabel standing by the window with the baby in her arms.
Mabel beckoned Rose then handed the baby to her. ‘A girl,’ she murmured with a long, meaningful stare.
‘Oh, my.’ Rose’s sigh filled the room.
The baby’s fingers flexed again. Her long-lashed eyes stared out at a brand-new world.
‘Oh, but she’s a beauty,’ Rose breathed, won over in an instant. ‘Look, Sylvia – look.’
Sylvia swallowed her sobs and took her daughter in her arms, her eyes searching the infant’s face, absorbing every detail.
Rose made room for Ethel at the bedside. ‘A little beauty,’ she said again.
Ethel crouched beside the bed. She offered her finger and the baby grasped it. Ethel smiled. ‘Oh,’ she sighed. ‘Oh, Sylvia, love!’
‘See,’ Rose told her. ‘No one blames you. No one at all.’
Sylvia’s tears eased. She felt the warmth of her daughter’s tiny body against her breast. Their gazes locked while everyone else in the crowded room blurred then faded away.
Mabel took Hazel to one side and gave her a quiet reminder. ‘What about Norman – shouldn’t someone go after him?’
Hazel nodded and made a decision. ‘Me. I’ll go.’
‘Off you go then. I’ll look after things here.’
‘I know you will.’ Without another word, Hazel left Mabel to make Sylvia comfortable and tidy up the room. She came out of the house and crossed the yard, emerging onto Raglan Road and wondering which direction to choose.
‘Did you see which way Norman Bellamy went?’ she asked a freckled, tow-haired lad delivering meat to number 17.
The boy shrugged. ‘I don’t know him from Adam,’ was his careless reply.
‘If you’re looking for Norman, he went that-a-way.’ Cycling down the hill on his way to the Friday fish market, Henry Pennington pointed over his shoulder. ‘He didn’t bother to say hello. It looked like he had a lot on his plate.’
Hazel thanked Henry and sprinted up the street. The door to John’s house was open so, without stopping to think, she ran up the steps and called his name. ‘John – are you there?’
He appeared through the back door, dressed in overalls and wiping his hands on a rag. He took one look at her face. ‘What’s up? What’s happened?’
‘Sylvia’s had her baby. It’s obvious Norman’s not the father. He’s upset. I need to find him.’
John walked towards her and put a steadying hand on her arm. ‘How can I help?’
‘I’d get on quicker by bike than on foot. Have you got a spare one I could use?’
Nodding, John fetched one from the back yard. ‘Try this for size. Don’t worry – it’s in good working order. Where are you heading off to?’
‘To Hadley,’ Hazel decided on the spur of the moment. ‘Norman’s mother lives over there. I don’t suppose he’s got anyone else to turn to.’
‘Right you are.’ John carried the bike down the front steps and saw Hazel on her way. ‘Good luck,’ he said as she set off.
‘Thanks.’ Suddenly remembering her note, Hazel stopped and fished it out of her pocket. ‘Here,’ she said, thrusting it at him.
John took the note with a questioning look.
‘My answer is yes.’ She smiled briefly and was off again, turning the corner onto Overcliffe Road and cycling for all she was worth.
What would she do in his shoes? she wondered. After all, Norman had just had the biggest shock of his life, completely out of the blue. The expression on his face as he’d run from the room had been that of a man who couldn’t make sense of what he’d seen – confused, hurt, angry – all of these.
He won’t use the bus in case he bumps into someone he knows, Hazel decided. He’ll go by foot across the Common.
So she took the footpath, passing three mighty shire horses from the brewery, put out to graze on the rough grass, and a road sweeper wheeling his cart towards the bandstand.
Norman had a ten-minute start on Hazel, but borrowing the bike from John meant she should soon catch him up, even if he ran full tilt all the way to Hadley. Head down and pedalling hard against a strong wind, she set herself the task of overtaking him and bringing him back.
She’d cycled about a mile towards the moors and the jagged outline of Brimstone Rocks when at last she spotted him – a solitary figure on the narrow cinder track bordered to either side by banks of brown heather. She heard the loud crunch of his feet on the path and saw by the hunched set of his shoulders that it would be hard to convince him to slow down and listen.
‘Go away, Hazel,’ Norman muttered as she drew alongside.
She got off the bike to walk with him. ‘No, Norman, hear me out.’
‘What for?’ He strode on without looking at her. ‘I’ve seen all I need to see. Heard all I want to hear.’
‘It’s a shock, I know.’
‘No, you don’t know!’ he countered. ‘I’ve been made a fool of – that’s the start and finish of it.’
The path narrowed and Hazel had to walk behind him. ‘Sylvia should have told you the truth. I expect she wishes she had.’
‘No, she’s not bothered. I’m just the poor sap who put the ring on her finger. I don’t count for anything.’ With an angry laugh he stopped and turned. ‘How long have you known about this?’
Hazel flinched under his accusatory glare. ‘Not long.’
He tossed his head back, his cheeks inflamed by the cold wind and the anger that bit into him. ‘You did know, though. When did she tell you? Was it when she went for the abortion?’
‘Yes. That’s when the truth came out.’
‘She swore you to secrecy, did she? Yes, that would be Sylvia’s style.’
Hazel lay the bike down across the path and prevented him from walking on. ‘Wait – you have to hear Sylvia’s reasons before you wash your hands of her. That’s why I came after you.’
He tried to push her aside but she held on to his arm. ‘Let go of me,’ he warned.
‘Norman, listen. You care for Sylvia, I know you do. You wouldn’t have married her otherwise.’
A deep frown was etched into his brow. ‘I did care,’ he admitted. ‘Anyone could see I did. I told you before – I could never work out why I was the one she picked. I see it now, though.’
‘No, I’m sure it wasn’t because she hoped she could trick you. It’s because, without even realizing it, she saw something in you – something decent and true that might draw out the same things in her. That’s why.’
‘Well, it didn’t work, did it?’ He jerked away from Hazel and walked on. ‘There’s not an honest bone in Sylvia’s body.’
She ran again to keep up. ‘But it still might work – if you would give her a chance and listen to what she has to say.’
‘More lies,’ he said bitterly, with only one thought in his head, which was to shake Hazel off and crawl back into the old family home to lick his wounds.
Without a last-ditch attempt, Hazel saw that she would lose the argument. ‘All right, here are a couple of things you should know. The father of that poor baby is a man much older than Sylvia, who she admired but she hardly knew. She might not see it like this, but from where I’m standing, the man behaved badly. He took advantage of an innocent girl.’
The frown deepened and Norman drew a sharp breath.
‘Do I need to name names?’
‘No.’ A wild look came into Norman’s eyes as he stopped and turned suddenly to face the town they’d left behind. In the distance was row after row of terraced houses lining the steep hillsides. In the smoky, crowded valley bottom, a forest of mill chimneys churned out grey smoke. ‘I’ve heard enough.’
‘Wait!’ As he set off at a run back towards the town, Hazel picked up her bike and followed. ‘Are you going to talk to Sylvia?’
‘No.’ Again the reply fell like a hammer blow on Hazel’s hopes. Anger propelled him, turning his face dark and blocking her out completely.
‘You should,’ she pleaded.
‘Go away, Hazel.’
She felt the wind billow through her open coat and catch at her scarf, knocking her sideways off her bike. ‘Shall I tell her I’ve seen you?’ she called after him.
‘Tell her what you damn well like,’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘I mean it, Hazel – leave me alone.’
Mabel was still there, stoking the bedroom fire and quietly straightening sheets. Rose brushed Sylvia’s hair and praised her while Ethel rocked the baby to sleep.
‘Have we got a name for her?’ Ethel asked as she returned the infant to her mother.
‘Not yet.’ Only just coming to terms with the reality of motherhood, Sylvia noticed Hazel observing the scene from the doorway and was caught between eagerness and fear. ‘Did you find him?’
Hazel nodded.
‘How was he? What did he say?’
It was best not to hide the truth, Hazel decided. There’d already been too many secrets. ‘He was upset. It’ll take him a little while to come to terms with things.’
Sylvia’s lip trembled and tears welled up. ‘Does he hate me?’
‘No, I’m sure he doesn’t. He hates what’s happened, that’s all. I gave him a few of the facts.’
‘Oh, Hazel, you didn’t!’ Instinctively clutching the sleeping baby closer to her chest, Sylvia turned to Rose and Ethel. ‘What good will that do?’ she wailed. ‘Tell Hazel she had no right.’
‘Hazel was only trying to help,’ Rose insisted calmly. She too was bursting with questions but she knew she must wait until the time was right. ‘We all are. That’s why we’re here.’
Sylvia fought back her tears and went on quizzing Hazel. ‘Did you tell Norman who the father is?’
Hazel closed her eyes and gave a small sigh. ‘I didn’t have to. I’m pretty sure he’d already put two and two together.’
‘It’s that band leader you were always going on about, isn’t it?’ Ethel too had worked this out for herself and she didn’t beat about the bush. ‘He’s the father. Does he have any idea about the baby?’
Sylvia shook her head. ‘No. And I don’t want him to.’
‘She’s probably right,’ Rose cut in. ‘What good would it do to hold him to account? He’d only deny it. And we can do without more trouble.’
‘So that’s it – he just walks away,’ Ethel muttered. She left the room, went downstairs and could be heard banging pots and pans around in the stone sink.
Hazel took her place by the side of the bed and tried to reassure Sylvia. ‘I do think Norman will come round. Just give him time.’
‘Not after the way I’ve treated him, he won’t.’ For the first time Sylvia saw beyond her own fears. ‘Was he very upset? No, don’t say anything – I already know the answer. Did he say where he was going?’
‘When I found him he was halfway to Hadley, to his mother’s house, I expect. But then, after we’d talked for a while, he backtracked. I tried to follow him but I lost sight of him getting onto a tram on Overcliffe Road.’
‘That means he could be anywhere by now.’ Mabel reached for her coat hanging on the door peg. ‘Anyhow, I’ll leave you to it,’ she decided with one last fond look at the baby and a smile for Sylvia.
Hazel followed her down the stairs. ‘Ta,’ she said quietly. ‘I mean it – thank you very much.’
Mabel nodded. ‘I’m glad I could do my bit. But this is exactly what I was talking about – nothing’s straightforward these days.’
‘You’re right, it isn’t.’
‘And that’s why I’m ready to bow out.’ Unable to resist one last piece of timely advice, Mabel turned in the doorway. ‘I’d keep on looking for that young man if I was you,’ she told Hazel.
‘You mean Norman?’
‘Yes. He’s a loose cannon and there’s no telling what he’ll do – he could get into a fight, or worse.’
Hazel was reluctant to believe it. ‘No, not Norman – not once he’s had time to calm down.’
‘It’s up to you,’ Mabel said, solid and phlegmatic as ever as she departed. ‘But I’d go after him if I were you. You know what they say – better safe than sorry.’
‘All’s quiet on the Western Front, I see,’ Jinny murmured as she ventured into the kitchen.
‘Yes, but you heard about the father?’ Hazel whispered.
‘I did. News like that travels fast. Never mind, we’ll just have to make the best of it.’ Jinny squeezed Hazel’s hand warmly then went upstairs. ‘Oh, Sylvia, love – are you going to let your aunty have a hold?’ she asked as she crossed the room with arms outstretched.
Staying downstairs, Hazel listened to the gentle flow of conversation overhead and was thinking again about Mabel’s warning when she looked out of the window and saw John crossing the yard. She rushed out to meet him.
‘How are things?’ he asked.
She quickly explained that Earl Ray was the father of Sylvia’s baby. ‘I haven’t forgotten about the bike,’ she added. ‘I was about to wheel it back up.’
‘Never mind about that.’ He held up a small bunch of keys. ‘I borrowed the car from Reggie, just in case.’
‘In case what?’
‘In case you didn’t manage to track Norman down. I thought we could carry on looking for him together.’
‘In the car?’ She jumped at the chance, not even going back into the house to fetch her coat or explain to the others. ‘Norman’s not normally a hothead, but Mabel is worried he’ll rush headlong into trouble if we don’t find him.’
‘She might be right.’ Running up Raglan Road, they reached the parked Ford and jumped in. ‘I had a word with Dan earlier. He said he bumped into Norman on Canal Road. Norman had been hammering on your landlady’s door, asking for Earl Ray.’
‘Mabel was right, then – Norman is looking for trouble.’
‘She sent him away with a flea in his ear. But Norman found out from Dan that Earl Ray is back in town and that he’s due to play at the jazz club tonight.’
‘Is that where we should be heading?’
John looked at his watch. ‘It’s too early. The club doesn’t open until eight.’
For a while they sat in silence, held up by heavy traffic and without any firm idea of what they should do next.
‘I read your note.’ As they waited at a crossroads, John nudged the talk in a new direction. ‘Tomorrow is fine by me.’
‘That’s good, then.’
‘I mean what I said – I really have turned over a new leaf,’ he assured her, tapping his finger on the wheel.
‘You’re not the only one.’ Hazel relived in a rush the feeling she’d had of opening up the prison door of shyness and reticence, of stepping out into the sunshine and letting her feelings grow and blossom. ‘I’ve seen what happens when a person tries to hide from the truth. From now on I intend to be open and above board.’
‘Uh-oh, should I be worried?’ he asked with mock alarm. The traffic eased forward and they crawled the length of Calvert’s mill, empty now that the workers had clocked off, with the furnaces to drive the engines dying down in the back courtyard and the restless, relentless looms lying silent.
‘Let’s see, shall we?’ Hazel took a deep breath then turned in her seat to gaze directly at him. ‘Keep your eyes on the road, don’t look at me. Here goes. I was thrilled when I got your letter. I’d been hoping to hear from you for I don’t know how long.’ There – she’d said it.
‘Blimey.’ He glanced sideways then straight ahead again. ‘What else?’
‘That’s enough for a start. Now it’s your turn.’
‘Right. I wrote the darned thing then screwed it up and chucked it in the bin I don’t know how many times. When I finally posted it, it felt worse than facing a firing squad – in case you turned me down. How’s that?’
‘Not bad.’ Hazel gave a quick nod. ‘Now me again. Once I recognized your writing, I could hardly open the envelope, my hands were shaking so much.’
‘“About blooming time” – that’s what you thought.’ He glanced again with the special smile playing on his lips.
‘Yes, but now I realize that any earlier would have been too soon – for both of us.’
‘Yes. Knowing that and deciding to stand back nearly killed me,’ he admitted. ‘Let’s face it – you’re a catch, Hazel. One look at you and any man in his right mind would want to make a move – Reggie for a start, and any one of those hospital doctors who hang around at the jazz club. I nearly drove myself mad thinking about it.’
Flattered, Hazel raised a rueful smile. ‘We’ve both learned a lot about ourselves lately and now I see the timing is just right.’ She felt strangely calm and confident.
With both hands on the wheel and resisting the impulse to pull over and embrace her, he drove on. ‘Tomorrow it is, then.’
‘Yes, but for now we have to concentrate on finding Norman. Let’s turn onto Canal Road. I suppose there’s a chance he’s still hanging around there, waiting for Earl Ray to show up.’