There was a frantic tapping at the glass of the station door. Ted lifted his head wearily. The railway was closed – didn’t they all know it? What idiot was trying to get into the station now? He hauled himself to his feet, ready to give whoever it was short shrift, but then he caught a glimpse of a familiar red coat through the ticket-office window. Annie! She’d come after all! She was not with that Watson-Clarke fellow, despite what her father had said.
He ran clumsily across the room, knocking a stack of paperwork off the counter in his haste to open the door and let her in. He fumbled with the lock but at last it was open and she stumbled inside, falling immediately into his arms.
‘Ted! Oh Ted!’ She was out of breath, as though she’d been running.
His own despair forgotten, he held her tight, revelling in the scent of her perfume, the softness of her, the brush of her hair against his face. ‘Shh, Annie, I’m here. It’s all right.’
‘Ted, my darling. It’s over, it’s all over …’
‘Over?’ For a terrible moment he thought she meant it was over between them, or that her pregnancy had somehow gone wrong.
She looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes but also a wildness, a recklessness he hadn’t seen before. ‘I mean my engagement. I told him. I told Bertram it was over. My father had insisted I go out today with Bertram. I wanted to come here, to be with you on the last day, but I had no choice. Ted, I wanted to be here so much!’
‘It was a g-good day,’ he said. ‘A lot of people came.’
‘That’s good. But Ted, I told Bertram about the baby. I didn’t tell him whose it was. And I told him I wouldn’t marry him. He got angry. So angry – I’ve never seen him like that! He scared me. We were in the car – he’d pulled over when I told him, and he was shouting at me and calling me … all sorts of horrid things.’
‘Did he hurt you?’ Ted asked. He could feel rage rising at the thought of that fellow abusing his darling Annie. He gently pushed her away to look for evidence. If Watson-Clarke had harmed a single hair of her head, Ted couldn’t be responsible for his actions if he ever saw the other man again.
‘He grabbed my arm, bruised me, I thought he was going to slap me but he didn’t …’
‘I hate him. How dare he. I’ll … I’ll …’ Ted’s fists involuntarily formed themselves into balls.
‘I got out of the car. I ran. I flagged down a van; the driver dropped me here.’ Annie stroked Ted’s arm, as though trying to calm him. ‘I told him I was going to marry you, Ted. And I am.’
‘But what about your father?’ Ted couldn’t help himself – the question slipped out even as a rising tide of joy rose up within him, quashing the anger he’d felt a moment ago.
‘I don’t care anymore. I think we should marry, as soon as possible, and go away somewhere.’
‘Where?’ Ted’s world had been Lynford for so long. He couldn’t imagine where else they would go, although of course he knew he had to move soon. Within a week.
‘Anywhere. Away from here. Out of Dorset. Out of reach of my father and Bertram.’ She clutched at his hands and gazed up at him. She’d never looked so beautiful. He wanted to say yes, of course, let’s go now, today, immediately. But his sense of duty held him back. He was employed for another week. He must work that week, and be paid for it. He – they – needed the money. And then he must find another job that would keep them both.
‘Ted? What do you say? Do you still want me?’ Her voice sounded small and uncertain.
He pulled her towards him once more and wrapped his arms around her. ‘Of course I do. I love you, Annie. I always have and I always will. I would do anything for you. I’d lay down my life for you, and for our child.’
She smiled. ‘It won’t come to that, dear Ted. So I will tell Father, and if he throws me out, well, then I shall come back here and be with you. We can stay here for as long as you’re allowed, and then we will go away. I have a little money. Not much but enough to live on for a month or two, and you’ll find work in that time. We’ll be together, which is what matters most. And we will live happily ever after.’
He let her words soak into him. Why shouldn’t things work out as she’d said? They had every chance. They had a future – they only needed to reach out and grab hold of it, and make it happen. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and then as she shifted, lifting her face to his, he met her lips with his and they kissed, long and deep, just as they had on that long-ago night of the storm.
And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement outside the station once more, through the now-unlocked station door. A figure outside, his hands cupped around his face as he peered through the window, his eyes wide with shock, his mouth open as he roared with fury at what he was witnessing.
The door crashed open and Ted and Annie jumped apart, putting a couple of feet between themselves. Ted was horrified. How much had the man seen? Watson-Clarke’s face was red, furious, a vein pulsating on his temple.
‘What the hell do you think you are doing? Who is this? Oh, it’s that weedy stationmaster. Out of a job as of today, aren’t you? What were you doing, pawing at my fiancée?’
‘Bertie, please …’ Annie began, clutching at his arm. But he shook her off. Ted stood mutely, his head bowed as though his lips were still on hers, the way they had been a moment ago. That perfect moment just now, the dream of them running away together evaporated like steam on the wind.
‘Get off, Annie. I see how it is. This is the fellow, isn’t it? The one who’s knocked you up. It is, isn’t it? This pathetic excuse for a man. Look, he can’t even say anything in his defence. Mute, is he?’ Bertram stabbed at Ted’s chest hard with his forefinger. Ted’s instincts wanted him to push back, but something told him it’d be wise not to provoke the man. He took a step backwards but still said nothing.
Annie sobbed. ‘Bertie, leave him. He’s … just a friend. A good friend. I didn’t know where to go, so I came here.’
‘You’re saying it’s not him? He’s not your lover?’
‘He’s … just a friend,’ she repeated. Ted stared at her, and she gazed back, a look of pleading in her eyes. She wanted him to keep quiet, he realised. She was hoping he’d back her up, say they were just friends, deny that he was the father of her baby. Could he do it? He determined to play along, if he could. She knew this Watson-Clarke fellow, and would know how best to handle this situation.
‘That right, is it?’ The man stepped forward, nose to nose with Ted who was backed against the ticket-office wall now. ‘You’re just her friend, are you? Never been anything more to her than that? Never kissed her, taken her to your bed, done her?’ He spat these last words out.
The provocation was too much. Ted raised a hand to wipe away spittle that had landed on his cheek, and then slowly, carefully, placed his hands against the other man’s chest, fighting to keep himself under control. ‘You are standing too close. You are making me feel uncomfortable,’ he said, keeping his voice as steady and quiet as he could manage. Annie looked like she was holding her breath.
‘Uncomfortable? I can make you feel a lot more uncomfortable yet, buddy. Answer my question. Answer it!’ Bertram’s voice had risen to a screech, and Ted flinched involuntarily.
He pushed Bertram away again. ‘I am her friend, yes. And I hope to marry her one day. And the baby she carries is mine.’ There. The truth was out, and saying it brought Ted a sense of freedom, no matter what happened next.
‘Why, you utter bastard! If I had a gun, I’d shoot you now, right here. What did you do, force yourself on her? She felt sorry for you, I expect, you being such a pathetic excuse for a man, and you saw your chance and took advantage of her? I should take you outside now, and give you a right pasting, you unspeakable cad!’
‘It wasn’t like that at all. I love her. She loves me too.’ Ted kept his voice quiet and steady still, hoping to defuse the situation, but it didn’t work. His calm tone seemed only to inflame Bertram further.
‘Love? How dare you speak of love! The woman is my fiancée, or at least she was. Now I have to decide whether I want to take on some other man’s brat. You should be begging me to keep her and the child. You have no way of providing for her, do you? The railway’s closed, hasn’t it? You’re out of a job, buddy, and she’s got expensive tastes.’
‘I love her,’ Ted said once more. Wasn’t that enough of an explanation? Bertram roared with rage and grabbed him by the collar, slamming him against the wall, causing Ted’s prized stationmaster’s certificate to fall and smash. It was hard to determine which caused him the most pain: the ruin of the certificate or the assault.
‘Bertie, please, leave him alone. Just go,’ Annie cried, clutching at the other man’s arm, attempting to pull him away from Ted.
‘Let go, woman. This is for us men to resolve. Outside, buddy.’
‘No. I won’t fight you. I don’t want to hurt you.’ Ted shook his head. He could feel his self-control ebbing away with every breath. He was bigger than the other man – taller, and strong from all the manual work in the goods yard. But whether he’d win a fight was another matter. Something about the fury in Watson-Clarke’s eyes, or whatever stupid name the man went by, told him the fight would not be a clean one. This wasn’t what he wanted. Suddenly it all felt too much. He wanted to back away, to be alone, writing in his journal to try to make sense of things. Or speaking to Norah who would advise on the best way to deal with all this.
‘But just maybe I want to hurt you, hmm?’ Bertram spat. He grabbed hold of Ted’s lapels. Ted twisted, shaking him off, and moved out of the ticket office, into his sitting room. Anything to get away from the man.
‘Leave me be,’ he said, his voice emerging as a growl.
The other man had followed him in. ‘Leave you be? Why? You took my woman and knocked her up. You need to pay for that, buddy.’
Annie pushed past Bertram and stood beside Ted, taking hold of his hand. The gesture lent him strength for which he was grateful. ‘Don’t let him upset you,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t let him fight you.’
‘Out of the way, Annie. This is nothing to do with you,’ Bertram said, once more squaring up to Ted.
Ted watched as Annie’s mouth fell open. ‘Nothing to do with me? How dare you say that! It’s my baby. It’s everything to do with me! And I’ve made my decision. I’m not marrying you, Bertie. I’m marrying Ted, come what may. So now I think you should leave and stop threatening him!’
Bertram turned and sneered at her. ‘If I walk out of here, you are left with no choice but him. A life of poverty, with a pathetic excuse for a man. A baby a year until your body is worn out. Your father will be bankrupt so he won’t be able to help even if he was minded to, you realise that, don’t you? You might think you care for him but how long will that last, when you find yourself with no money and no status?’ He gazed around the room. ‘So this is where you’ll live? Or would live, if the railway wasn’t closing? I guess the company will be selling this place. You’ll live somewhere even smaller, even poorer.’ He was silent a moment and Ted could see a thought occurring to him. ‘So, is this where it happened, then? Right here, on that sofa?’
‘No, no. Not at all. Bertram, please leave.’ Annie’s voice was wobbly now, fear showing beneath her anger as she plucked at the man’s arm in an attempt to lead him back to the public parts of the station. Ted felt his whole body shake with fury. He’d always been fussy about who he let into his private space – only people he trusted and liked. Just Norah, the children, and Annie. This man was violating his home and Ted was finding it hard to keep control.
‘Not here? Where then?’ Bertram crossed the room and opened the door that led to the little staircase. ‘Up here, then? Let me see. I want to see the place where my fiancée lost her innocence. She wouldn’t give it to me, oh no. She saved it for a miserable git like you.’ He began to climb the stairs.
‘Don’t go up there. It’s private,’ Ted said, his voice low, gruff. He felt like a volcano about to erupt.
‘I’ll go wherever the fuck I want, buddy,’ Bertram said, over his shoulder. ‘Here? This tiny single bed with a grubby cover? Here’s where it happened? You fucked her here?’
That was it – the last straw. The use of that vulgar word in relation to their one perfect night. Ted could not take any more. He bounded up the stairs after him, shouting. ‘Get out! Get out of my house! Stop using that word about her. We made love. We love each other! Get out!’ He tore at Bertram, pulling him out of the bedroom. Annie followed them up, screaming at them to stop.
‘Get out!’ was all Ted could keep yelling.
‘Go down,’ Annie shouted. ‘This is Ted’s home.’
‘And you’re nicely at home here too are you, you slut?’ Bertram spat in her face. Ted wanted to hit him for that but there was no room to take a swing. The tiny landing wasn’t big enough for the three of them. Bertram tried to push past Ted to see into the other bedroom. Ted scrabbled at him, trying to stop him. Annie was wedged between them. Ted could feel her soft body pressed against him. She was battering her fists at them – at both of them – screaming in panic that she couldn’t breathe, that she was scared she’d fall.
‘What’s going on?’
The voice called up from below. It was Fred Wilson, peering up at them from the foot of the stairs. As Ted turned to look, Annie screamed again and he felt her stumble, he felt her lash out randomly in her panic. He reached and grabbed, anything to stop her tumbling down those steep, lethal stairs, anything to keep her safe, but the scream was one of pure terror, and now it was coming from his own lungs …