Past and Present - A Modern Day Romance of North & South

CHAPTER TEN - THE TIES THAT BIND

Margaret didn’t return to work for several days, having no choice but to rest her ankle until the swelling went down. Her mother fussed around her, muttering little asides about health and safety at work and generally deriding the shoes that Margaret chose to wear. She tried to insist that Margaret went to see the doctor so that her ankle could be checked, but Margaret flatly refused. It was only a sprain and as soon as the swelling had diminished enough for her to walk on it without being in absolute agony, she was going straight back to work.

The days Margaret was compelled to take off work dragged by, her spirits overhung by an acute sense of monotony. The fact that she couldn’t go out and was effectively confined to the house was the worst thing and even moving around was so painful it was much better just to sit. She missed work though, she missed her shifts with Bess and she was amazed by how much she actually missed John. She had secretly hoped that he might come to the house to see how she was, but after the fuss she’d created when he’d tried to kiss her she suspected that he had probably not considered it safe to be anywhere near her. Her response to him, she knew, had been completely irrational at the time - particularly after the consideration he’d shown her when she’d been hurt. It had been like witnessing another side to him, like watching another layer peel away from the armour he wore, bringing her closer to the man who hid beneath.

If the days were tedious then the evenings were more so. Margaret, never one for watching television much, found herself with no choice but to sit in front of it while her mother scoured the channels for all the home improvement programmes she could find, supplemented along the way by a dip into her usual diet of soaps. Margaret had endeavoured to finish off Jane Eyre but was too distracted by the television and in the end she just gave up, resting her head lethargically against the arm of the sofa.

“By the way, Margaret, I meant to tell you earlier,” her father began. “John sends his regards and hopes you make a speedy recovery.”

Margaret’s attention was instantly pulled towards her father at the mention of John’s name, her heart jumping in anticipation. “When did you see him?”

“This morning. Adam and I had to go to the hotel on business. We had a very pleasant lunch in the hotel restaurant as it happens. In fact, I might try and book a table for us to go one day when your ankle’s better. It’s open to the public and apparently, from what Adam tells me, is very popular with the great and the good of Milton.” He chuckled to himself, his eyes lowering once more to the book he was reading, settling himself comfortably into his armchair, no doubt thinking that having passed on the message his job was done. 

“How was he?” Margaret asked, unable to stop herself. She desperately wanted to know if John had given any hint to her father about what he might think of her.

“Mmm?” Her father glanced up from his book again with an affectionate smile.

“Mr Thornton. How is he?” she persisted, wondering whether she was the only one who heard the faint edge of desperation in her voice.

“Very well, yes. He looks very chipper actually.”

Margaret wished she hadn’t asked. In her heart of hearts a part of her wanted to hear that he was miserable, that he was distracted because he missed her. But that obviously hadn't happened. Her lack of presence hadn’t had any effect on him at all, it seemed.

Oblivious to Margaret’s growing gloom, her father continued on: “He’s looking forward to the Mill Owners Dinner, I think. It’s a lot of work by the sounds of it, but it’s clearly something he enjoys the challenge of.”

“I suppose he’ll be taking Ann Latimer,” Margaret said before she could stop herself, her morosity hardly disguised. Not that either of her parents seemed to take any notice. Her mother was too enthralled by the latest goings-on in the Platt household to care.