Chapter 72: Mary Schormann & Ellen Booth

Ashford: Monday, October 20th

Ellen lay on the settee. She raised one hand languidly towards Mary. ‘Sis.’ She was pale, dark shadows circled her eyes. She didn’t bother to wipe away the easy tears. ‘Linda’s pregnant. On top of everything else, she’s gone and got herself pregnant.’

So that was what was wrong. Mary had known there was something but she’d put it down to the trouble with Ellen’s drinking. ‘Don’t let that be an excuse for you to go off the rails again, Ellen. She’ll need your help.’

Ellen lifted her head off the cushion, looking aggrieved. ‘Why do you always have to get at me?’

Mary wasn’t in the mood to pander to her sister. ‘It’s not the end of the world. She’ll be all right.’

‘That’s what I said.’ Ted looked gratefully at Mary.

‘She’ll be a single mother. Them two next door will have field day.’ Ellen sank back onto the cushions

‘Since when did you care what people thought?’ Mary said, sharply.

Ellen had the grace to look sheepish.

Mary put the flowers and chocolates on the coffee-table. ‘A little thank-you for having Richard stay with you,’ she said, determined to change the subject. She wasn’t going to discuss Linda without her being there.

‘It was no trouble,’ Ted said, cottoning on to what she was doing. ‘He’s a nice lad—’

‘Except for the company he keeps.’ Ellen set her mouth.

‘What does that mean?’ Peter spoke for the first time since he and Mary came into the house.

Mary shot a look at Ted. She’d told him on the telephone she didn’t want Peter knowing who Karen was. At least for now.

His nod was imperceptible. ‘Nothing.’ He glared at Ellen who rolled her eyes.

Mary felt the tension inside her lessen. Her brother-in-law would keep her secret. ‘What you need, my lady,’ she said to Ellen, ‘is some fresh air. Come on. Let’s go for a walk.’ She took hold of her sister’s hands. ‘Up!’ She dragged Ellen into the hall, snatched their coats from the stand and flung open the front door. ‘See, it’s a lovely afternoon.’

‘Bit cold. We could call in at the Crown.’ Ellen fastened the buttons of her coat and looped her headscarf around her neck.

‘Rubbish. And no.’ Mary was adamant she wasn’t going to let Ellen get drunk. ‘Anyway, they’re closed. We’ll have a walk in the park.’ She banged the door shut and set off at a brisk pace down Henshaw Street with Ellen trailing behind.

‘I’m bored with Skirm.’ Ellen dug her hands into her pockets.

‘Okay, then. Along the canal?’ Even as she said it she didn’t know why she’d suggested that. She hadn’t been on the canal path for years – since that day.

As though she understood, Ellen said, ‘We could walk Mossbridge way instead of … the other. It’s a nice walk, so Linda tells me. Her and Martin used to walk that way a lot … before.’ Her voice wobbled. ‘I thought she had more sense, our Mary. Being a nurse and with the pill … you know.’

‘These things happen, love. She’ll be okay. She’s strong.’

‘Not like me, eh? I couldn’t manage on my own.’

‘Things were different, Ellen. She’s got you and Ted behind her. He’s nothing like our dad was.’

‘Thank God…’

They linked arms. ‘You wouldn’t have married Ted if he was even a bit like Dad.’

‘I married him for all the wrong reasons though; you always knew that, didn’t you?’

‘Mmm. But you’re okay now,’ Mary said. ‘Aren’t you?’ Was this the right moment to talk to Ellen about her drinking?

Ellen didn’t answer.

They reached the steps of the canal without talking. When Mary moved off the last step she winced, refusing to glance towards the bridge nearby. She wouldn’t look; didn’t want to see where it had happened. Didn’t want to think about Frank Shuttleworth – alive or dead.

‘This way.’ Ellen tugged at her arm. ‘I’m worried about Linda. I have no idea why she’s finished with Martin. Especially now. A baby needs a dad.’

Apparently the subject of her drinking was off-limits. Later, then, Mary thought, determined not to let Ellen ignore it. ‘And he or she will have one in Martin.’ Mary kept quiet about his lack of interest but there was no fooling Ellen.

‘I’m not sure he’ll be bothered. Linda said he was so angry that she finished with him, you know. And what about her job? She’s always said she wants to get on in the hospital. Now what?’ Ellen demanded. ‘What happens to her career now?’

‘It’s not like when I had the twins,’ Mary said. ‘They take married women and mothers back now. Things will work out. You’ll see.’

They strolled on. The path was rutted; a pattern of holes gouged out by footsteps and filled with shallow rainwater, the reflection in them like scraps of sky where shadows of cloud drifted across the surface.

‘I still miss you, you know, our Mary. I do wish you’d come home.’

It was a refrain that had echoed down the years.