Authors: Catherine Cookson
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Family, #Fathers and Daughters, #Family Life, #Sagas, #Secrecy, #Life Change Events, #Slums, #Tyneside (England)
“No. I mean, yes. Ben.” There was a silence, and then his voice came low, saying, “What is it? Are you all right?”
“I ... I haven’t any money and ... and I’m wet through and... and would you come and get me?” There was another short silence.
“Where did you say you were?”
She looked about her, then gave him a rough description.
“Stay in the box,” he said.
“Stay put; I’ll be with you as quick as I can, fifteen minutes at the latest.”
“Thanks. Thanks, Ben.” She put down the phone and leant against the partition, and waited. At one stage, when she saw a police car come racing down the road she turned and pretended she was phoning.
It could not have been more than fifteen minutes later when Ben drew his car up alongside the kerb but it had
seemed like an eternity, an eternity in which she’d had time to review her life, especially that part that had taken up the past eighteen months.
Having pulled open the heavy kiosk door he stood looking at her for a second, and she at him; then he put out his hand and took her case from her, turned and walked across the pavement to the car.
When she was seated he pulled a rug from the back seat and put in on her knee, he didn’t tuck it around her.
He had been driving a few minutes and still he hadn’t spoken, and she said softly, “Thanks, thanks for coming.”
When still he made no comment she put her head down, and now her voice angry, she cried, “Oh! say something, anything. Ask me what’s happened, why I was stuck out there.” He said, “I’ll ask you all the questions you want when we get inside.
I . I don’t want Mam to wake up, that’s if she does, and come out and find me gone; she would tell by my hat and coat being gone from the hall. “
She just prevented herself from screaming at him, “Damn Mam!” There was no more said until they reached the house;
then he opened the staircase door he said, “Ssh!” and she limped up the stairs and across the landing and into the sitting-room, he following her on tiptoe.
When he had closed the door gently behind him, he went to where she stood unbuttoning her wet coat.
As he took it from her he looked at the long gap left by the open zip of her dress, and, taking hold of the bottom clip, he hitched it up in one swift sharp movement.
She turned on him, her face scarlet, then bringing her joined trembling hands up to her mouth she pressed them against her lips but was unable to stem the How of tears spurting from her eyes. As her body slumped forward he put his arms around her and said, “There!
there! don’t. “ He did not add now, “ You’ll waken Mam,” but said, “ Don’t upset yourself like that. “ He led her to the couch and they sat down together. He was still holding her and her head lay against his shoulder, and when she said softly, “Oh Ben!” he looked down on her hair and became still. She felt the stillness and she muttered, “Don’t be mad at me. Please, please, don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you, Pat, I’m only’—he now moved his head slightly and bit hard on his lip, and when he didn’t go on she muttered, “ I didn’t go through with it . I’m a fool. “ Oh. “
She put her hand to her face.
“Oh, I don’t mean I’m a fool for not going through with it, I mean I’m a fool for ever thinking I could.
But still at the same time I . I feel an utter idiot, old-fashioned, behind the times. “
“I’m glad.”
She looked up at him, and they stared at each other, their glances deepening.
“I’m ... I’m unhappy, Ben.”
He took her hands and held them against his chest as he said softly, “You shouldn’t be, you’ve got everything: the chance of a fine career ahead of you; you’ve got a brain above the av....”
“Oh, Ben, brains! brains! Shut up about brains. A woman doesn’t just want brains, in fact I think they’re a disadvantage, I do, I do.” She was shaking her head now while sniffing loudly.
“All this piffle about equality, running round the University forming societies for this, that, and the other, all with the view towards equality. And the ones that get it, or think they’ve got it, you should see them.
Oh Ben, you should see them. The more they get what they want, the more apart they become from those they want to be equal with. They herd together, and they talk, they’re like over fed computers.
You know, lately, it’s made me afraid of my mind.” She laughed gently, derisively now.
“I
suppose it’s an awful admission but there’s something in me that doesn’t want to be equal, and that’s the truth. I just want. Oh Ben! “
Their gaze deepened still further, until it reached a depth in which they were both swimming.
“Pat.” He was holding her face between his hands now, and again he said, “Pat!” Then she was being crushed tight against him while they rocked backwards and forwards. After a moment he held her from him and murmured, haltingly, “All... all these years.
I never knew. I, I thought it was all on my side. Why. why, Pat. “ Again she was held tightly to him, but now with his lips hard on hers.
When at last they drew apart she brought his hands up to her cheeks, one on each side, and standing like this she asked softly, “Will you marry me, Ben ... soon?” As she watched his blue eyes mist over, then saw him bow his head, she knew a moment’s panicking fear and muttered in consternation, as he rubbed a hand across his eyes, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it.
It doesn’t matter. I. “
“Be quiet!” He was gripping her fiercely to him.
“It’s just that I never dreamt there was a chance ... never, never thought you could.... I’ve loved you all me life, but I could see me self going round courting Mam to the end of me days.”
“Oh Ben! Oh Ben! It’s funny.” Her voice was high, cracking.
“Both thinking alike ... you courting Gran, Mam. I’ve wanted to scream at you.... Oh Ben!” They rocked together again not knowing whether the other was laughing or crying. Then, their faces close, she asked softly, T)o you think Gran’ll be pleased? “ and he answered, “ Tickled to death. That’s after she gets over the shock. And it’s bound to be a bit of a shock after the way we’ve gone for each other over the years. “ Again they clung together; then he said soberly, “ Anyway, it’ll help to take her mind off this other business. “
“What other business?”
“Her mother, my grannie. The one I’ve never seen. They sent for her yesterday to go and see her.” 19 289
mary awoke around five o’clock on the Saturday morning, feeling as she put it to herself, like nothing on earth. She always did after taking a sleeping tablet.
The battle she’d had with her conscience over the past two days was something she thought she’d never have to face. It had begun with the policeman coming to the door. It was years since she had seen a policeman at the door; the last one had come about Jimmy: “I don’t want to take him in, Mrs. Tollett,” he had said kindly; Tie’s lying in a shop door in Ormond Street. If you’ll go and get him I’ll pass by on the other side. “
Now this policeman had asked, “Does Mr. Alee Walton live here?” When she answered, “Yes,1 he had said, “ Well, I’m sorry to inform you that his wife is dying. She’s in the Old People’s Ward, the annexe to the home, you know. “ She hadn’t spoken for a full minute, and then she said, “My father’s ill in bed.” You’re the daughter then? “
Yes. “
“Well, perhaps you’d like to go along.”
After a short silence he said, “Well good night.” And she too said, “Good night.” Her mother dying. She had thought, when she thought of her at all, that she might be dead already. The last time she had looked at her was as she lay in that bed paralysed, speechless, when she had wished her long life. Well, apparently, she had got her wish. But she shouldn’t feel sorry about it, should she?
And she wasn’t going to.
No, she wasn’t going to. As for telling her da, that was the last thing she was going to do.
This had taken place on Thursday, and when she went in to him to say good night he had held her hand and said, “I’ve got a sort of funny feeling on me, lass.” Tunny feeling. Da? “ she said.
“Aye, disappointed like, as if we were goin’ off on a trip an’ something had stopped us. You remember when I used to take you to Shields sands, we used to walk all the way to Tyne Dock and take the tram from there. And you used to pledge, an’ I used to buy you a stick of candy rock from that shop just afore you get to the Marine Park.
You remember? the shop with all the spades and pails hanging outside.
Eeh! those were happy days, lass. “
She had stroked his hand. Happy days when they hadn’t enough money to take the tram down to Tyne Dock! If they had taken the tram there would have been no ‘candy rock.
“Candy rock,” he said. Do you mind the fellow that used to come round the doors shoutin’ “Candy rock for stockin’ legs!” you mind him? And the time you took a good pair of me stockin’s out and when you came back and showed the rock to your ma she nearly went mad when she knew what you’d done? “ His voice trailed away.
She had looked down at him. It was the first time she could remember him mentioning her ma’s name during the last twenty-eight years. Her ma had died completely for them both when Lally died. She felt a shiver go through her as the thought came to her that perhaps, on her death bed, where she was now, she was again forcing her will on him, as she had done all those years ago.
Yesterday he had said to her, “I still have this funny feel in on me, lass.”
“What is it like?” she had asked, and he had replied, “I can’t explain it, except I’m depressed like.” Then about eight o’clock last night he was sitting up in bed when she went in to him, and he said, “Aw, lass, I feel better. You know I’m going to get up the morrow. Of a sudden I feel on top of the world, just like a baim being let out of school, you know.” He had laughed at her, and she had laughed back at him, saying, “A hairn being let out of school at your age! You’re in your second childhood.”
“I shouldn’t wonder, lass, I shouldn’t wonder. But I tell you what.” He had leant towards her, his eyes bright and happy.
“You wouldn’t have to press me very much to get me to take a double dose of me medicine the night.”
“Go on with you.” She had slapped his hand, and when the whisky she brought in to him was a double, he said softly, “Aw, lass, you’re the best in the world.” And when raising the glass to her, he sang in a cracked voice, “I love a lassie, a bonny, bonny, lassie, she’s as pure as the lily in the dell,” it was all she could do to keep looking at him and stop the tears spurting from her eyes.
Years ago when he had sung these words, she had taken them as a recrimination for the mistake she had made with Ben, but not any more, for she knew that to him she was still as pure as the lily in the dell, and he had forgotten she had ever made a mistake.
And last night she had talked to Ben about her mother. Ten,” she said, “ I’ve got something on me mind. The polis’ve been and asked for your gran da me ma’s dying and he expected one of us to go. “ He had looked at her and said, “Well, what you going to do about it?” He knew all about his grandmother and what she had done to his mother.
“I don’t know,” she had answered him. Yet if the situation had been put to me, well, as a sort of, what do they call it? hypothetical, question, I wouldn’t have hesitated for an instant I would have said, no!
no! if she was dying twenty times over they wouldn’t drag me to her bed. Yet now, here I am in two minds what I should do. “
It was then Ben had said quietly, “If you’re in two minds, then you know what you should do? You don’t want any thing on your conscience, Mam. Look’—he had ended ‘do you want me to run you there?”
“NO! NO!” She had protested firmly.
“I’ll have to think more about it. But I’m so tired; I didn’t sleep last night at all.”
“Take a pill,” he said, ‘and in the morning things should be clearer.
You’ll know what to do then. “
She had turned to him when she reached the door and said, “She might be gone in the morning.”
“Yes, she might; but you’ll have to face up to that an’ all. Go on to bed.” Staring across the room at him, she remarked, You look off colour yourself,” to which he had answered,
“ I’m all right. “
She was thinking now that Ben had been off colour all week; it was that business last weekend. She wondered what that young monkey had done? She was worried stiff about her an’ all.
It was at this moment there came a tap on the door.
When Ben came in with a cup of tea in his hand, she stared at him, saying, You’re up before your clothes are on, aren’t you? It’s just gone five. “
“Yes, it’s just gone five.”
She continued to stare at him. His face was bright, his eyes were shining, and when he sat down on the side of the bed and handed her the cup she peered at him.
“You’re in fine fettle this morning.”
“Never better, Mam.”
You must have had some pleasant dreams? “
“Marvellous.”
“Good for you.”
“Pat’s here, Mam.”
She gulped on the hot tea, put the cup back on the saucer and said, “Pat! When did she come? I never....”
“No, you never heard her, the pill had knocked you out.”
“What time did she get in?”
“Well, let’s see. What time did we get in?”
“We?”
i “Yes, it’s a long story.” He leaned towards her now and > . whispered, “But I’ll tell you as briefly as I can.”
; And so he told her as briefly as he could, but in his own way. And towards the end of it she exclaimed, “Judo! t Our Pat and judo! Knocking a man out! I don’t believe ‘: ; you.” I “Well, I’ll leave it with you, she’ll demonstrate later. And I ; by the way, Mrs. Tollett, I’m going to be married, and right ;, ‘, ;
away. “ His hands went forward just in time to stop her cup’s :; I; toppling over. | I: “Married Right....” t “Married right....” | “Married! who to?” ; ^’| “Well, who do you think? ... Pat.” i ]^! Mary leant back against the pillows, and let out a long I ii? breath, then said,