A man who cried (11 page)

”Bring him in here. Lay him on the couch.”

When the man was lying stretched out on the couch the young woman rushed out of the room,

only to return within a minute, a glass of water in one hand and two pills on the palm of the

other.

”Here, take these.” She half turned to Abel. ”Will you raise his head, please?”

As Abel raised the man’s head and shoulders she said, ”Here now, get these down you. I told you

you should never have gone all that way. If they wanted to sell it so badly they should have taken

it themselves.”

”Ssh! Ssh!” The man closed his eyes wearily; then opened them again almost immediately and,

turning his head slowly,
he
looked at Abel, saying, ”You were very good, very . . . very good.

Kind . . . Samaritan, yes indeed.”

”Don’t talk; rest for a moment and then we’ll get you upstairs.” She again turned to Abel, saying,

”Will you stay and give me a hand?”

”Yes, yes, of course. But first may I bring my boy out of the car, he’s very wet ?”

”Oh!” She blinked and looked surprised, then said, ”Yes, yes, of course. Bring him inside.”

Abel went hastily out of the sitting-room, across a hallway, and into the kitchen, noticing as he

did so the extreme neatness everywhere but mostly the warm, almost faint-making smell of food

cooking. It came from the direction of a shining black-leaded oven at the far end of the room.

A few minutes later while pressing Dick down into a chair near the open fire, he realized the

effect of the smell on the boy and he whispered, ”Sit there and get dry; you’ll likely get a drink of something in a minute. All right?”

The boy nodded at him with more emphasis now and gazed round the room as if he had suddenly

been dropped into some heavenly place. •- ~

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• When Abel re-entered the sitting-room again the man was saying, ”Now don’t worry, don’t

worry; there’s never a good But there’s a better. Haven’t I always told you God provides ? Didn’t

He send me help in my hour of need ?”

The words, Oh my God ! almost escaped through Abel’s own lips. Not another of them surely!

He’d had enough of religious maniacs to last him a lifetime. Yet this man appeared normal . . . as

yet; and what he said next seemed to substantiate the fact.

”I’m all right, Hilda. Just leave me quiet, then I’ll get upstairs. What . . . what you can do is ... is give this good man and his boy a hot drink. And . . . and let them dry their clothes.”

The young woman turned a sharp glance on Abel before looking at the man again and saying,

”I’ll see to that once you’re settled, not until.”

”Oh, Hilda! Hilda! Child! Well... well, let’s get it over with.”

Again Abel had his arms about the man and this time he actually did carry him up the stairs and

on to a square landing.

”In here.” The young woman had preceded them into a bedroom and had swiftly turned down the

quilt on a large mahoganyframed bed, and when Abel had laid the man on it she dismissed him

rather peremptorily, saying, ”I can see to him now. Please wait downstairs.”

Abel made no reply but turned and went out of the room, closing the door behind him. On the

landing, he took stock of the place, telling himself it was a fine house, one of the old sort. There were closed doors on three sides, the fourth side being railed with a mahogany balustrade except

where the stairs led down into the hall.

As he stepped into the hall he had come to the conclusion that no longer were houses like this

one built; here, there was a substantial feeling about the place. A warm and a homely one, too.

When he entered the kitchen Dick was still sitting where he had left him. The steam was rising

from him as if he were being simmered and his face looked small, white, and weary, the eyes too

big for him.

He went to the boy’s side and, dropping on to his hunkers, he held his hands out to the blaze of

the fire, saying, ”Nice kitchen, eh?”

”Yes, Dad.”

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He turned and looked at the boy and there came a restriction in his chest and a tightness to his

throat, and a break in his voice as he muttered, ”Don’t worry, son. We’ll . . . we’ll have a kitchen like this one day. Yes, we will; I promise you.”

The boy didn’t reply but he bent his head forward and rubbed his sweating palms together.

Getting swiftly to his feet, Abel now went towards the table that was placed under one of the two

windows in the room. There was on it a green chenille cloth bordered with tasselled braid and, as

if he were in his own house, he grabbed a handful of the tassels and began to twist them between

his two hands. But realizing what he was doing, his hands sprang apart and with his fingers he

hastily began to smooth the tassels out
again.

He went to the window and stood looking out. The rain had eased to a mere drizzle. He looked at

the flagged yard. It was so well paved there were no puddles on it. To the right was a row of what

appeared to be workshops. The double doors of one were open and he glimpsed dismembered

bicycles hanging on nails from the wall, and part of a bench. The buildings on the other side of

the yard looked like garages. There were four of them, double-storeyed, having lofts or

storerooms above them. The bicycle business looked to be thriving. ”He’s settled, he’ll go to

sleep now.”

He started and swung round; he hadn’t heard her come into the kitchen. He looked at her fully

for the first time. She was what he would call comely; she was of medium height, slightly on the

plump side, her skin was fresh and her eyes clear, and her hair an abundant brown. Her mouth

was small, her lips full. Altogether she seemed like the house in that she gave off an assurance,

sort of God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world. Good Lord ! there was he spouting now. It

was catching.

”What. . . what is the trouble with your father?” It was a polite enquiry, but when the answer

came, ”He’s not my father, he’s my husband,” he felt the colour sweep over him and he almost

stammered, ”I’m sorry, miss . . . ma’am.’

She stared at him for a moment, her head wagging slightly, then she smiled as she said, ”Oh, it’s

understandable; it’s a mistake many people make.” Then she turned from him to the boy, and her

voice took on a high-pitched note as she cried, ”Oh my goodness! child, you’re steaming like a

pudding. Get that coat

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off! You’ll catch your death. Whatever made you sit^efore the fire with that on?”

As she pulled Dick from the chair none too gently, and tugged the coat from him, Abel said, ”It’s

my fault; I thought he would dry out before we went on again.” :

”On again ?” She turned her head towards him. She was holding the coat between her fingers and

thumb as if it were lice-ridden; then she thrust it over the brass rod running under the mantelshelf and the length of the fireplace.

”Yes, we’re . . . we’re on the road I’m afraid. I’ve . . . I’ve been looking for work, but . . . but unsuccessfully.’

”With the child?”

”Yes.” He lowered his lids. ”I... I had to bring him; circumstances were such . . . well, I had to

bring him.”

”Oh! Oh, I’m sorry.” Her voice dropped and she spoke in an aside as if the boy wouldn’t be able

to hear. ”His mother, is she. . .?”

The question caused Abel to turn his head away from her. .^JU.» What did one say ? What could

one say ? I’ve walked out on my ^^ wife and brought the boy with me and we’ve been on the

road for weeks and another one will finish him and when that happens that’ll be the finish of me

too. . . .

”Oh, I’m sorry, I understand.” From being low, her tone now rose sharply as she leant towards

Dick, smiling now and saying, ”Do you like shepherd’s pie?”

”Yes, ma’am.”

”Well, Mr Maxwell won’t be eating any tonight and so you can have his share.” She was still

smiling when she turned and looked at Abel, and he said, ”Thank you, ma’am. Thank you very

much ”

It was a great effort to eat normally and not to shovel the hot appetizing food into his mouth, and

he knew that the boy was having the same trouble. The shepherd’s pie was followed by a plateful

of creamy rice pudding, and this by a mug of tea and a buttered teacake, a whole one each. Never

before and never again was a meal to taste quite like this one.

Immediately they were finished he rose from the table, saying, ”I’ll wash the dishes up, ma’am.”

”Oh no, no” - she shook her head - ”I’ll see to those. Thanks all the same.”

7°

He remained standing, looking at her now as she bustled around the table, and when she went to

remove Dick’s plate, Abel reached out and pulled the boy to his feet, and she said, ”It’s all right, it’s all right. Leave him be.”

”Ma’am.” , ••.-...

”Yes ?” She stopped and looked at him.

”Could I ask a favour of you ?”

”Well” - her face became straight - ”it all depends what it is.”

”Would you allow us to sleep in one of your outhouses tonight?”

”Sleep in one of the outhouses ?” She looked down on Dick, then back up to him, and moving

her head slowly, she said, ”I ... I imagined you were on your way somewhere. You mean you

have nowhere to sleep ?”

”That’s it, ma’am.”

”Well, where did you expect to sleep tonight . . . and with him ?” She was again looking at the

boy.

”We . . . we were originally making for Hexham and . . . and the workhouse. I felt I must get him

into somewhere, he’s had more than enough on the road.”

”Yes, yes, I should say so.” She nodded her head. ”Yes, of course you may sleep outside. There’s

rooms above the garage. They’re in a bit of a mess ; I haven’t been up there since Jimmy went, I

haven’t had time. Jimmy, by the way, was our hand, he helped Mr Maxwell, he died a fortnight

ago. He ... he suffered from gas from the war, but he was a good worker. We miss him.”

During the time she had been talking she had cleared the table, put the dishes in the sink, washed

out milk bottles, and put the rice pudding dishes and the shepherd’s pie dish in to soak. Then

walking towards the door and without looking at him, she said, ”Come along and I’ll show you

the room.”

They mounted a dark stairway set between two garages, and followed her through a door at the

stairhead, where she switched on a light to reveal what apparently was a living-room. In it was an

old couch, two armchairs, a bookcase, and two tables, one in the middle of the room, the other

standing under a dormer window, and on this one was a gas ring and some cooking utensils.

”It’s in a mess, he was never very tidy, and he couldn’t cook for himself. He had his main meal

with us, but he made his tea and odds and ends on there.” She pointed to the table under the

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window. ”There’s no heating except from the oil stove.” She again pointed, to the corner of the

room now. ”But he-didn’t mind that; when he wasn’t working he was mostly out at nights.” She

gave a jerk to her head, then added quickly, ”But he was a good worker, none better. This is the

bedroom. I’m afraid to look at it, the mess it’ll be in.” She thrust open a door and showed a

dishevelled bed, an equally cluttered wash-hand stand, and a chest of drawers. ”The other room

is just full of his junk.” She pointed to another door, then added, ”He died in hospital. He had no

people. . . . Well, if you can put up with this -” She turned and faced him.

He smiled quietly down on her as he said, ”At the moment, ma’am, it has the appearance of a

palace to me.”

”Tut . . . tut.” She clicked her tongue, then added, ”Well, bring your things up. But first sort out what is wet and leave them in the kitchen, they’ll be dry in the morning.”

”Thank you, ma’am. Thank you very much indeed.”

He watched her go towards the door. All her movements were quick, brisk like her voice. She

looked so young and very much alive and she was married to that man! He must be fifty if he was

a day. Anyway, they had been the means of providing them with a night’s shelter, and for the

time being that was all that mattered. He looked at Dick and smiled as he said, ”We’ll be all right

here, eh?”

”Yes, Dad.” Dick nodded, then said slowly, ”The house was nice, wasn’t it, Dad?”

Abel turned away from the look on the pale thin face and from the eyes that held such weariness,

and he answered flatly, ”Yes, very nice.”

”The kitchen was lovely and warm, wasn’t it? I’ve never seen such a big kitchen. An’ the young

lady, she’s nice an’ all, isn’t she?”

Abel bit on his lip, then turned and went into the bedroom. Here, flinging back the rumpled

covers from the bed, he looked at the sheets. They were clean, comparatively so anyway. He put

his hand on them. At least they were dry.

”It would make a nice house this, wouldn’t it, Dad ?”

He was still leaning over the bed - he hadn’t heard the boy come into the room - and he remained

so, his hand flat on the sheet as he said slowly, ”We’re only here for the night; make the

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best of it, but don’t start dreaming.” Raising himself slowly, he looked down on the boy, and the

pain in the wide brown eyes stabbed at him with their misery. Turning abruptly from him, he

said, ”Come on, let’s get our things up.”

73

Wi

’
1^)

0

Strange, the bed had been comfortable. After having eaten another meal which she had called a

bite, his belly had felt cornfortably full too, and although every bone in his body had ached with