Harry & Hattie
Harry Gives his All for Love
Hattie stood by Harry’s bed. The hospital ward was hushed around her, the silence broken only by the soft tread of the nuns and Harry’s laboured breathing.
Dear Harry, how strong he’d been for her through these last painful months.
Every day Hattie had thought her spirit would be crushed under the burden of it all. How had it come to this? But she couldn’t dwell on it, couldn’t think of the horror of what had happened and her devastation – the loss of her life as she’d known it. Everything, everything as she knew it, had gone.
A further thread had snapped when Sally joined up. Not that she’d have it any different, as the lass wanted to do her bit, and Hattie was proud of her for it. But it beggared belief – Sally knowing all that French stuff and studying books, so she could actually use it to help in the war effort. A translator, her Sally! Still, she was safe in what she was doing, which wouldn’t have been the case if she’d been to France and knew of the life they lived and the country’s geography. Then they’d have had her over there, doing God-knows-what, most likely in constant danger. Sally was upset that she hadn’t been accepted for such work, but she enjoyed the job they’d given her. Eeh, she’d always known as Sally was a clever lass; it had shown in how quickly she’d caught up with her learning, once she’d come back to Hattie. From that time, Hattie had thought Sally was really meant to work with her head, not her hands, even though she did a good job with both.
Aye, and I’ve to do the same, if I’m to keep everything going. Megan’s factory, as well as me and Harry’s emporium. But all of it is draining so much from me. Oh, dear Lord, I miss Megan so much. I miss life as it was.
Maybe that was confusing her, where Arthur were concerned, but all Hattie knew on that score was that she needed him – really needed him – and the thought shamed her.
Harry stirred. His agitation showed in the way he picked at the sheet with his long, thin, yellowing fingers. His voice, weak and shaky, was difficult to understand. ‘Ha – Hattie?’
‘I’m here, my love. Don’t try to talk. I know everything as you want to say.’
‘I – I must. Hattie, be happy. Ar – Arthur . . . It’s all right—’
‘What? Harry, what’re yer saying?’
‘I – I know. And I . . . want you happy. G – go to him.’
‘Harry! Oh, Harry. I’m sorry.’
‘N – no, it’s all right. I want . . . P – please, go to Arthur. He loves you.’
‘Please don’t say this, Harry. I can’t bear to see the hurt in you. I never meant—’
‘You gave me happiness, my d – darling. I will die at – at peace . . . if I know you are happy. Please, Hattie.’
‘Don’t leave me, Harry. I love you. Please stay, please . . . Harry.’
‘I – I love y—’
‘Harry! Harry, listen to me. I love you like I’ve never loved another being.’ Despite everything, she knew what she said was the truth and came from her heart. Her love for Arthur wasn’t anything like what she had for Harry. She could depend on Harry; he’d never let her down. Arthur held her soul, but he could destroy it as if it was nothing.
‘I – I know, my love. But . . . go to Arthur. Th – things change. I – I want you happy.’
With the last vestige of her world collapsing, Hattie felt she had no choice but to utter the words she never thought in a million years to say to her Harry. But she had to give him peace. ‘All right, my love, I will go to Arthur. Now don’t fret. Save your energy, get well, and make it as I don’t ever have to leave you. I can’t bear to be without you. No. No, Harry, don’t go . . .’
Harry’s grip on hers slackened.
Hattie’s heart thudded painfully, causing her throat to constrict with each intense beat. ‘Oh, Harry, no, no, no—’
An arm took hold of her, trying to drag her away. She fought against it and escaped, flinging herself onto the bed, where she snuggled into the still body and kissed the unresponsive waxy features. The hand grabbed her arm again. ‘Come along, dear. He is at peace now.’
But she didn’t want him at peace; she wanted Harry here with her. She wanted him to hold her, to . . . ‘Oh, Harry, my love.’
A voice that she could not see the owner of spoke from behind the curtain, championing her cause. ‘Sister, leave them a moment. They’ll be all right.’
‘It isn’t right, it’s—’
‘Who are we to say what is right?’
‘Yes, Doctor, but Matron wouldn’t—’
‘Matron won’t know. Now come away.’
The hush of earlier descended again, this time with nothing to disturb it. Into that hush came all of Hattie’s life: the wasted, rotten part after leaving the convent; the vile happenings, and her time as mistress to Arthur – Lord Arthur Greystone, as she now knew him to be, although back then she had thought him to be Captain Faraday. That deception still hurt. He’d found her on her patch, when she worked the streets. She could remember so vividly how he came up to her, limping and with a scarf covering most of his face. She’d seen a tear trickle from the stretched socket of his left eye and had been mesmerized by his sweet, gentle voice as he had said, ‘I – I will understand if you can’t, but I need—’ She’d understood: the so-called ‘Great War’ had left so many young men badly injured. Her heart had gone out to this one. ‘Of course, love. Where shall we go?’ she’d asked him. He’d summoned his cab, driven by Harry. Harry had smiled at her as he’d helped Hattie into the cab. Everything had seemed as though she was entering a different life, and she was. As time went on, she and Arthur fell in love, and she had thought of him as her lifetime companion; but he had gone back to his wife, the moment she could bear to look on his much-improved facial appearance following the skin grafts he had been through.
Now Arthur was back, but did she want him? At this moment it seemed that the only really good thing had been meeting Harry, through her association with Arthur. And now Harry – faithful batman to Arthur, and loyal and wonderful husband to her – was gone. Oh God!
Twice in the last year Hattie had felt alone, and when Harry had collapsed again a few days ago, she had known that the final nail was being driven into the coffin of her devastation. Now, as she left the hospital, the feeling of being abandoned by all those she loved engulfed her.
Arthur had waited in his car, as he’d promised, and as she looked at him, all doubts left her. No matter how wrong it seemed – no matter how it would look – she knew she’d go to him and become his mistress again. And she knew she’d do it with Harry’s blessing an’ all.
Arthur stepped out of his car and put his arms out to her. Hattie went into them. As she did so, a draught caught her legs. A nun’s habit had caused it, and the loud ‘tut-tut’ she heard came from the wearer. Anger made her turn on the Sister. ‘Aye, you can look with disdain on us who are sinners in your eyes, but by God, you should look inside yourselves, for a lot of life’s misery is caused by the likes of your lot. I should know, being a product of one of your convents and dragged up by them like you.’
The nun put her head down and walked on. Hattie felt a moment of guilt as she remembered the love given to her and Megan by Sister Bernadette when they were young. Sister Bernadette had been different, hadn’t she? But no, in the end her lies and deceit had been the start of it all. Of Megan not being with her mother, Bridget, all those years; and how she herself had been sent to work in a place where it was known the master was partial to taking the virginity of young maids. Sister Bernadette hadn’t challenged the Reverend Mother’s decision to place her there. She probably thought that praying would be enough to keep her safe, but it hadn’t been. Memory shuddered through Hattie. No, she’d not think on Sister Bernadette as being any different from the rest of them, because in the end her true colours had come to light.
Arthur didn’t tell her off for her outburst, or try to calm her. He just asked gently, ‘Hattie, dear, has Harry gone?’
‘Aye, he’s gone. Your way’s clear.’
‘Hattie!’
‘Eeh, I’m sorry. Aye, me Harry has gone, and he gave his blessing to us. But if you hurt me again, Arthur, he’ll haunt you, and you’ll have no peace as long as you live.’
‘I won’t, Hattie. I told you. My pain at our parting equalled yours. I endured deep agony every day at not being with you and knowing you were with Harry. I would have been back sooner if it hadn’t meant hurting him. Please believe me, dear – there was nothing I could do.’
‘I will try, Arthur, but it didn’t seem to stop you when you were freed up. You came back into me life quick enough then.’
‘I only meant just to see you, and not for you to see me. I – I couldn’t help myself.’
‘Oh, well, no matter. Like I say, Harry went happy, knowing you would be back with me. But tell me: it is what you want, isn’t it? I am more than a mistress to you this time?’
‘You are much more. Much, much more, my darling. I have never stopped loving you. I admit I had a moment of joy when I met up with my wife again and she wanted me back and still loved me. It clouded my judgement. The thought of being accepted back into the only circles I had ever known, and of being myself again, all added to the illusion, which made me think it was what I wanted. Then one day, a few months after I had left you, I woke up in the night with a terrible sense of loss. My heart felt like it would break, but it was too late. You had Harry, and everything in your own and dear Megan’s life seemed so settled. You all looked so happy. Harry was ecstatically so.’
‘How did you know all that?’
‘I had people watching you all and reporting back to me. They were business advisors and friends.’
‘The business advisors! I wondered why they approached us. We were just four people setting up a small business – folk who wouldn’t normally attract the attention of advisors.’
‘I asked them to approach you, but of course Lord Crompton saw them off. I didn’t know at the time that you had such an influential banker behind you. I relaxed as regards your ventures, once I did know, and by then I had all the information I needed about you all and how well your lives were turning out.’
‘My God, Arthur, if only—’
‘No, don’t say it. I wouldn’t have wanted you to leave dear Harry. You were his world.’
‘Aye, and he were mine for a long time. Oh, right enough, you were never far from me mind, but he and I found happiness together, and I need to grieve his loss. I’m not ready, not altogether ready. Oh, Arthur, take me pain away.’
‘Hattie, my dear.’
The world turned into a shimmery haze as she looked through the tears that had filled her eyes. Her legs gave way. Arthur supported her weight.
‘Come on, my dear.’
How she got into the car she did not know, but once there she knew where she wanted to go.
As they turned into the churchyard, the sun dappled its way through the boughs of the tree laden with leaves, throwing a pattern onto Megan and Issy’s grave.
Hattie thought of what Megan had told her about the first time she’d lain with Jack. How the trees above them had thrown a shadow that looked like a lace canopy, as the sun had filtered down just as it was doing now. ‘So your lace canopy is still there for you, love. I’m glad. I hope it’s protecting you, like you said it always did. I – I’ve come to tell you . . .’ She could get no further. She sank down. The soft grass, cut and nurtured so lovingly by Jack, accepted her. Her fingers dug into it. ‘Oh, Megan, help me.’ With these words, the very heart of her – the place she’d kept so tightly bound, so that it couldn’t escape to destroy her – broke free.
Sarah’s voice came through her despair. ‘Aunt Hattie? Oh, Aunt Hattie.’ She felt Sarah’s body as she lowered herself to kneel beside her. ‘Don’t, Aunt Hattie, please don’t. If you break, what is there left?’
Sobs that weren’t her own – deep and wretched – penetrated Hattie’s misery. The sound gave her a small amount of strength. She took Sarah’s frail, thin body into her arms and they clung together. Sarah’s belly dug into her own soft middle and she felt the life within it move – a new life. Out with the old, and in with the new: that’s what people said, wasn’t it? Well, they were all being given a fresh start, with what Sarah carried, and the little mite wouldn’t have any of its grannies there for it. Well, she could do that for Megan and Cissy. She could help Sarah through this and be a granny to her child. The thought gave purpose to her life.
‘Eeh, Sarah, lass.’ Pulling herself up, Hattie helped Sarah to rise. Arthur stepped forward with a big white hanky, but didn’t speak. Wiping Sarah’s face first and then her own, Hattie said, ‘By, lass, I could do with a cuppa. I’ve sad news to tell, but I feel better for the comfort of you and Megan and Issy.’
‘Harry?’
‘Yes. Dear Harry. This two hours since.’
‘I’m sorry. Oh, Aunt Hattie, it feels as though everyone will be taken from us.’
‘I know, but it won’t happen. We have to be strong, lass. You have to find yourself again and live on for your child, and for Megan and Issy. We both do. How does Granny Hattie sound, eh? Cos that’s what I’d like to be. It would honour me if you’d let me stand in for Megan and Cissy.’
‘It sounds grand. Like I’ve been given something back. A granny for me babby! Come on, Granny Hattie, I’ll make a start by taking care of you when you most need it.’
They walked together towards the churchyard gates, arms linked, just as Hattie used to with Megan, and it felt good. ‘We can do this, lass, me and thee. We can get through, and by doing so we’ll help your dad, I know that. It won’t be easy, but if we pull together and don’t shut ourselves down, or shut each other out, it can happen.’
Holding her breath, Hattie waited for Sarah’s reply. She prayed it would be a positive one, for she’d seen a difference in Sarah in these last few minutes. Like she had a purpose again. Please, God, let it be so.
‘You’re right, Aunt Hattie. I already feel like something has changed. As if something has opened up inside of me . . . Ouch!’
‘What?’
‘Babby kicked me! Eeh, it were a good ’un an’ all, like it were saying, “About bloody time.”’
‘Ha, Sarah Armitage, you swore! By, Issy’d have the soap out if she heard you!’
They giggled. It was a nervous sound at first, but then it became a deep belly laugh that doubled them over. Hattie thought, Harry, lad, your passing has brought about a miracle, cos I never thought to hear Sarah laugh again, but her having a purpose in looking after me has done the trick. We’re going to be all right, me and Sarah, and as such we can be a strength to Jack.