Billy
A Seductive Encounter
Panting from his run, Billy felt better for having left the whole lot of them behind. He’d needed to escape the confines of what his family had become. Let them all stew – he didn’t care. His mam should have given him more time.
As he reached Breckton, everything that was once familiar now seemed alien to him. He just couldn’t put his finger on why.
Walking along the Miners’ Row, where he had lived until that day his ma left his dad and took him away with her to Leeds, he met no one he recognized. Crossing the road, he decided he’d walk down the lane before going into the pub, even though he had a strong urge to down several pints.
The trees still hung over the road and the cottages remained as they were all those years ago, though the folk living in them weren’t all the same ones as had lived in them when he were a lad. Issy’s old cottage, where he’d played with Sarah for hours and hours, looked different too, and he wondered who lived there now – whoever it was hadn’t kept the old place looking as nice as it used to. The roses hanging over the doorway had turned to brambles through the lack of care shown to them. And there was a new lot in old Henry Fairweather’s place. The old git had chased Billy many a time from places he shouldn’t have been. He remembered that Sarah had come in with the news of his death on one of her visits, her eyes full of tears, but he’d felt nothing. There were no place for old ’uns. They’d outgrown their usefulness and were a burden to everyone. Sarah was even worse when old Gertie died – breaking her heart, she were.
As he passed by the cottage where Gertie had lived, and where her son Gary still lived, he thought about the day he’d had some fun at Gary’s expense. Feeling bored, and with Sarah tied up keeping Bella, her halfwit sister, amused, Billy had gone off to find his Uncle Jack. He’d come down this lane – in fact, this was where it had happened! Aye, the very spot. By, it’d been a bit of sport, making the horse rear and throw Gary. Gary could’ve won the Olympic Games with the way he flew through the air.
Laughter at the memory bubbled up in Billy. As he released it, the laughter echoed, bouncing back off the silence and splitting the air. A shudder trembled through him at the sound, sending him back to those years as if it were now. And the thought came to him that nothing had ever been right for him. He’d been happy when it was just him and Sarah, but then her mam had died having Bella, and things had changed. Rage boiled his blood, just thinking of Bella!
At the end of the lane he could see the gates leading to Hensal Grange. Turning to his left, he saw that the stile was still there. He had a fancy to climb it and head for the beck, but memories of the last time he was up there stopped him. He wouldn’t put it past that ugly, stinking halfwit to haunt the area. This thought stippled his arms with goosebumps and raised the hair on his neck. A voice in his head told him not to be so daft. To prove he didn’t care, he climbed over the stile and ran towards the thicket. He slowed his pace when he reached the tree that he’d stood behind on that day, long ago. He looked in the direction he remembered Bella coming from. He could hear her calling, ‘Biwwy, Biwwy . . .’, and remembered the fear turning him to a statue, just before he’d beaten her to death and thrown her stinking body down the mineshaft. The same feeling seized him now and the atmosphere clawed at him.
A twig snapped. He stood still. A female voice came to him. A posh, top-drawer voice.
‘Bother! Well, I’ll just have to walk. Come along, Lady, we can’t stay here . . . Oh, you startled me. I didn’t know you were there—’
‘Sorry, Ma’am. I hope as I’m not on with trespassing. I were just out for a walk.’
‘I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you from the town?’
‘No, Ma’am, I live over on Fellam’s Stud Farm.’
‘In that case, as a stable-hand, you may be able to help. Lady – my horse – stumbled and now she’s lame.’
‘I’m no stable-hand. I’m stepson of owner. Me name’s Billy Armitage.’
Her hazel eyes changed as he spoke, as did her beautiful face. It had been poker-like in its cold expression and her eyes had held disdain, but now they showed fear and her cheeks flushed. This shocked him.
‘There’s no need to be scared of me. I’ll not bite.’
‘No, of course. I – I . . . Look, can you help or not?’
‘If you tell me who you are, and if you stop looking at me like I were scum, I might consider it.’
‘Really! You are very rude!’
This came with the hint of a smile. He decided to seize the advantage he’d gained. ‘Eeh, how can you say that? I’m just a bloke out for a walk. It were you as were rude in your manner towards me, but I’m not one to fall out with a pretty girl. I’ll take a look at your horse for yer.’
Something about the way she looked at him tickled a muscle deep in his groin, as she spoke in a much softer tone, and one that put him on an equal footing with her. ‘I’m Theresa Hawthorn. Hawthorn is my married name. I’m the daughter of Lord and Lady Crompton, and we live at Hensal Grange.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Ma’am. I’ve not long come home. I—’
‘Yes, I know all about you. But you don’t look like someone who would kill anyone.’
This came with a naughty aspect to it, like she was taking him on. It further aroused him. She stood by her horse, inviting him with her eyes. But then you couldn’t trust her lot. If he took her up on what he read in her manner, she’d more than likely have him hanged. ‘Well, you’re right with your thinking, cos I didn’t kill anyone. Not intentionally, anyroad.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘I’m not in the mood to rake over it. I’ve had it up to here, and I ain’t been home five minutes. So I reckon as now we know one another, it’d be best for me to take a look at your horse, then get on me way.’
Unsure what he was looking for, he lifted the lame leg. A piece of twig, about two inches long, stuck out from under the horse’s shoe. After telling her what it was, Billy asked, ‘Have you owt on you as I could use to prise it out? It must be giving her some pain.’ Without saying anything, she took a pin out from her hair, allowing her locks to cascade around her shoulders. His throat instantly dried. She let her fingers brush his as she handed him the pin. Holding her gaze, he said nothing. Didn’t trust himself to. She leaned towards him. Her face was near his, and he could smell the perfume on her and read the need in her eyes. But once again he cautioned himself. Women like her could be dangerous – not that he’d had any experience of them, but he had a sixth sense about it. He turned to get on with relieving the horse of the twig, asking as he did so, ‘Your husband staying at the Grange with you, then?’
‘No. We’re getting divorced, as it happens.’
That explained a lot. He was right about her having a need, and he had a mind that she liked the thought of him seeing to it. The muscle in his groin tightened even more. He held himself in check – after everything that had happened, he couldn’t risk anything going wrong now. He’d concentrate on the job that he had to do.
‘It’s lovely out here, don’t you think, Billy? So quiet and . . . well, secluded. You could be out here and not come across another soul, except that I did today, of course. What brings you this way? And with no coat on. You must be frozen!’
‘If you must know, it were me anger. Me mam thought it right to have a family do, to welcome me, and it went wrong. I didn’t have a mind to act like everything is as it should be when it ain’t.’
‘You sound very bitter. I don’t know everything that happened, but I know you’ve been away a long time. It can’t be easy to come home and have to try and fit in again, especially as everything has changed. I mean, I understand your family didn’t have money when you went away, and now they do; and on top of that, they are business people living in a big house. Quite a difference from a miners’ cottage.’
‘Aye, well, that were down to your lot. A cover-up, it were, but then you seem to know all about everything, so there’s nowt as I can add to it.’
‘Oh, I should think you could. I know my aunt had something to do with it all. An affair she got herself embroiled in, I believe. My twin brother, Terence, and I have never known the full facts, though.’
She’d moved close to him once more. Her perfume did things to him. He had to fight the urge to take hold of her and have some of what his Uncle Jack had had with her aunt, but he checked himself.
‘Here, it’s done. Your horse’ll be reet now. I’ve to get on me way.’ His hand went to rise to his forelock, but he stopped it. Instead he nodded his head towards her.
‘So soon? You haven’t told me about what went on. Are you going to be coming to Breckton again? Perhaps I’ll see you. I ride out every afternoon at about this time.’
‘Aye, I might, though it shouldn’t be long afore I get me call-up. I’ve been in to sign up. They said they’d send for me to have a medical, then if that were reet, I’d go off for six weeks’ training.’
‘We’d better make it soon then.’ She’d swung into the saddle, and as she looked down at him, she teased him once again. ‘I’ll look forward to it. You fascinate me, Mr Armitage. I like bad boys.’
Her laughter lingered in the air as she rode off. By, I need that pint more than owt now.
Although the family had continued with dinner, the atmosphere had been tense. Sarah couldn’t engage in any of the conversations; her mind was in turmoil and her stomach churned. She feared for Billy’s return: how would he behave when he came home? But then a sense of wonderment and confusion filled her as she remembered what had happened with Richard in the garden; what he’d said had lifted her, and yet increased her despair and compounded her sense of feeling trapped.
Besides feeling shackled to Billy because of her dread of what he might do, she now had another fear and, if it turned out to be true, she’d not have any choice other than to go through with their marriage.
The sickness and dizzy bouts she’d experienced hadn’t resulted in her having her period, and that meant only one thing. She swallowed hard. I have to stay strong. Whatever happens, the family can’t know of this until after the wedding. I can’t bring the shame of being pregnant out of wedlock down on them. I can’t . . .
Something Grandma Bridget said suddenly brought Sarah out of her thoughts. She and Granna Issy were doing their best to lift her spirits as they stood together in the drawing room. ‘Just act as if nothing has happened, when Billy returns, darling – it’s the best way with men.’ Nodding her agreement, Sarah looked for a distraction. She’d listened to their advice for a good ten minutes now and was on the point of not knowing what to say next. Laughter coming from across the room drew her attention. Mark and Sally stood in a corner, enjoying a joke.
Sarah smiled at her grandparents. ‘Ta, I will. I’ll do all you say, I promise. I’ll come and talk to you again later, but I think now, if it’s all right with you two, I’ll go and see what’s causing the merriment over there. I could do with a laugh.’
Neither of them stopped her. As she headed towards Sally, she saw Richard out of the corner of her eye, heading in the same direction. When he spoke to her, his voice sounded as if nothing had happened earlier. ‘I see you have the same idea – gatecrashing the only people in the room who seem to be having any fun . . . Now then, you two, what are you up to? Share the joke.’ But then what he said didn’t match the way he looked at her. There was so much in his eyes. How was it she was so tuned into Richard that she could almost read what was in his mind?
‘We’re actually talking about the war, believe it or not. I know – not an amusing subject, but Sally tells me she is thinking of joining up, and we had this picture of all these women in high heels, brandishing handbags and brollies and terrifying the German army as they charged towards them! No need for you and me, big brother. The ladies will sort Hitler out for us.’
The idea tickled Sarah so much she laughed as she hadn’t done in ages, and it felt good. It released a lot of the tension she’d held inside her. Richard joined her, touching her arm as he leaned forward, dabbing his eyes and adding to the picture: ‘The Petticoat Army – ha, the very thing. Some of them can carry custard pies to throw. That should do the trick.’
This doubled Sarah over even more and weakened her knees so much that she clung onto Richard to steady herself. But then, without warning, a pain ground into her, as if someone had dug a knife into her back. She stumbled, and Richard grabbed her. ‘What is it – oh God, darling, what is it?’
‘Let go of her, you bastard!’
Richard took the full force of Billy’s fist and his body shot towards the door, blood trickling from his nose.
Sarah could do nothing, let alone sort out in her head where Billy had come from. Pain gripped her in a spasm that took everything from her. She wanted to cry out for Billy to stop. She wanted to go to Richard, to hold him, comfort him, but all of those wishes went into a black hole as she sank to the floor.
The scene held all of Megan’s nightmares. It seemed that her world would end; she’d no one to call out to. All were involved in one way or another: Hattie and Sally tending to Sarah while Jack, Mark and Edward were trying to get Billy off Richard; and her mam held Issy, stopping her from ploughing in, although physically restraining her didn’t stop the tirade of abuse coming from Issy as she screamed, ‘Stop it, you scum, you murdering scum! You’re not fit to be in the same house as that lad—’
Oh God, for the first time in her life she wanted to claw at Issy, stop her, clog her mouth, as her heart screamed, That’s my son, my son . . .