Harold

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘There you are, isn’t that a dutiful son for you? Well brought up, speakin’ the truth.’ She opened her mouth wide, to show a surprisingly fine set of teeth; then turning her attention to me again, she said, ‘You’re still lookin’ surprised. Wonderin’ why I’m here, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes; yes, I am a bit.’

  ‘Well, it’s not that I want to put a spoke in your wheel with regards him’—she again nodded towards Harold—‘not that I could because it’s all been signed and sealed, but I thought I’d put your mind at rest about somethin’ else that I know you haven’t taken to, and that’s his nibs comin’ to claim his rights every other week or so. Gawd! That sounds funny, doesn’t it?’ Her large stomach and big breasts seemed to wobble in unison. ‘Claim his rights. But you know what I mean?’ She broke off here to open her handbag from which she took out a fifty-pence piece which she handed across the bed to Harold, saying, ‘Go on to the ’ospital shop an’ get yourself a bar.’

  Harold looked at the money, then looked at me, and when I said, ‘Yes, go on,’ he went, but with evident reluctance.

  The door closed, I looked at my visitor. Yes, I knew what she’d meant the first time. And now she went on. ‘Mum says she hasn’t told you the full story.’

  ‘No; Janet hasn’t told me anything, I mean with regards to yourself.’

  ‘Better comin’ from me, I suppose she thought. Well, it’s like this, Mrs Leviston. You know I was in for a divorce ’cos I was goin’ to marry this bloke … I’m a bad lass you know.’ She leaned towards me and grinned widely as she made this statement. ‘He was the third bloke I’d made a mistake about since walkin’ out on Jimmy. But anyway, when I found I’d one in the pot’—she patted her stomach again—‘I thought it was about time I stayed in one place, so Ralph, this fellow, said we’d get married. So all I wanted was a divorce. And of course I’d given enough grounds, you could say, to let a battalion off the hook.’ Again she laughed. ‘Then, I ask you, what did Ralph do? The bloody swine … Well, he was, an’ I’ll say it again, he was, he takes a pattern from me an’ he scarpers. But James Stoddart wasn’t to know that, was he, when down he comes to see me. My! I nearly fell off me perch when I opened the door to him. Well, the long and short of it was, his piece had done the dirty on him an’ he was left with Doris and Gloria. By the way, I don’t suppose you know that the kids aren’t mine, they were his by his first wife. Anyway, we got to talkin’ … Am I borin’ you, Mrs Leviston?’

  ‘Boring me, Maggie? No, I’ve never felt so entertained for a long, long time.’

  We laughed together now, and her hand coming on the shoulder of my still-plastered arm in no light slap definitely quelled my laughter and almost made me cry out. But I said, ‘Go on. Go on.’

  ‘Well, there we were sittin’ tête-à-tête, as they say, ’aving a cup of tea, an’ what ’e says to me is, “You intent on goin’ through with this an’ marryin’ him?” And I, like the good liar I am, says, “Well, of course; what else can I do, Jimmy? You can see me condition.” And you know what? Do … you … know … what, Mrs Leviston? He said to me, “I don’t mind your condition, I’ve had it once afore if you remember, all I want is you to come back.” Well, I ’ummed and ’aaed and ’ummed and ’aaed; then finally thankin’ God on the side, I said, “All right.”’

  Again her head was back; again she was laughing. Then of a sudden her laughter stopped and her face lengthened as she said, ‘I slipped up there, didn’t I?’

  ‘What do you mean you slipped up?’

  ‘Well, what I said about ’im takin’ me before in the same condition.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Anyway’—she shrugged her big shoulders—‘I think you’ve got a right to know; you see, Harold isn’t his.’

  ‘No? He’s not his father?’

  ‘That’s what I’m sayin’, Mrs Leviston, Harold isn’t his. Mind, he tells himself that he is, but at bottom he knows what he knows. That’s why he’s never been able to stand the kid, and ’Arold sensed this from the beginnin’. That’s why he became such a little terror, I think. No, his father was the only decent bloke I’ve ever known. But I wasn’t up to his standard, you know like, so he scarpered.’

  I was singing inside. Of course the boy had nothing of Jimmy Stoddart about him; but he had his mother’s humour and impishness. Oh, yes, yes, I could see that. But Maggie was going on.

  ‘You know, when I walked into the kitchen the other day I thought me mum would pi … kill herself laughin’. An’ the lads, all they could say was, “Oh, Maggie!” Like our Max said, I could take on a brigade of guards an’ they’d all be worn out by the mornin’. Well, you know what I mean, Mrs Leviston.’

  She was flapping her hand at me now. And yes; yes, I certainly knew what she meant.

  ‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘when things had quietened down in the kitchen I had a talk with Mum and she told me about the rumpus there’d been between him and Mr Tommy. Well, I said, I’ll put a stop to that. It isn’t as if he cares anything for the lad, it’s just that he wants to be bloody contrary … Excuse me swearin’, Mrs Leviston.’ I excused her swearing. ‘Anyway, I said I’d take the girls back, ’cos, you see, they weren’t mine no more than young ’Arold was his. So that’s what I said, “I’ll take the girls back if you let go altogether on ’Arold. He’s got the chance of a lifetime, something that I could never give him nor you. No, never you.” That’s what I said. Oh, yes, that’s what I said. I don’t pull me punches.’ Again her mouth was wide. ‘So that’s why I thought I’d come an’ tell you meself. You’ve got no need to worry about any more visits from him. If ’e starts shoutin’ about his rights, ’e’ll get his rights all right, but I’ll see they’re curtailed.’ Again her breasts and stomach were wobbling. ‘Mind, not that I’d like to cut off from him, the kid, altogether, you know what I mean; now and again I’d like to see ’im. That’s if you don’t mind.’

  I put my hand out and laid it across her fat fingers, saying, ‘Of course, Maggie, of course. And I can assure you he’ll be a credit to you.’

  For the first time I saw her show some genuine emotion. She turned her head away for a moment, sniffed, then said, ‘No credit due to me. I’ve … I’ve always pleased me bloody self. Made like that you see, where the other thing is concerned: can’t ’elp it, sort of. I don’t know who I take after. Likely our old man. ’Cos Mum always said he was determined to have a baker’s dozen but she put the cork in at eight.’

  She turned to me now. Her eyes were blinking, her mouth was tight. ‘People don’t understand; we’re all made different, aren’t we? Aren’t we?’

  ‘Yes, of course we are, Maggie.’

  ‘There’s you, so nice’n kind an’ normal like, who would think you have spent years talkin’ to a horse that wasn’t there and gettin’ it to kick people’s arses? I read your book. I did, an’ I laughed till I cried, because, oh God, the people that I’ve wanted to kick in the back of the front!’

  ‘Maggie! Maggie!’ It was a groan now. ‘Please!’

  ‘What is it?’

  I was choking: ‘Please, don’t make me laugh like this, it hurts all over.’

  ‘Oh, Mrs Leviston, does it?’ She was laughing more loudly herself now.

  The door opened and in came Harold. He looked from one to the other, then said, ‘You’re laughin’.’

  ‘Yes. What d’you think we’re doin’, big head?’

  He looked at his mother but didn’t answer her; then he looked at me and said, ‘For a minute I thought you was cryin’.’

  ‘Were!’

  ‘Oh, you!’ He glanced at his mother again, then grinned and said, ‘That’s what she does,’ before turning to me and asking, ‘What d’you want, a Smartie or a piece of Mars bar?’

  ‘Ask your mother first.’

  He stretched across the bed, and I watched her take a Smartie, say ta, then pop it in her mouth.

  When he offered me the packet I also took a Smartie and, laying it on the bedside table, I sai
d, ‘I’ll keep it for after; they’ll be bringing the tea round in a moment.’

  And when presently the nurse entered with a tea tray on which there were three cups and saucers, a teapot and water jug, and a plate of small cakes, Maggie exclaimed, ‘My, my! Isn’t this nice now. This is the life. What I wouldn’t give to have a fortnight in ’ere.’ And when her son replied quickly, ‘Don’t be daft, Mum, you’d have to be knocked about to be in ’ere,’ she looked at him and said, ‘You’re right. You’re right, boy; you would have to be knocked about to be in ’ere, and I ’aven’t been knocked about enough yet.’

  She turned her gaze on me, and the look in her eyes made me want to reach out to her and say, Oh, Maggie, Maggie, but she was laughing again, saying, ‘Will I play mother?’ And so I said quietly, ‘Yes. Yes, Maggie, you play mother.’

  Four

  Later, when Tommy came in laden down as if it was Christmas with a great bouquet of flowers, three books, and a bottle of perfume, that’s what I said to him, ‘Is it Christmas?’ And his answer was, ‘Yes, every day I’m with you.’

  Tommy was nice.

  While describing to him the reason for Maggie’s visit I had him laughing so loudly he had to put his hand over his mouth to still the sound.

  ‘That family,’ he said. ‘You know, you should write a book about them, starting with the day Harold was made legal.’

  ‘That’s the idea,’ I said.

  ‘But you’ll have to be careful how you introduce the Mohican: you’ll have to be truthful and say he put me off from the start, yet you recognised something in him that neither I nor anyone else did … clever clouts!’ He had picked up Gran’s phrase, clever clouts.

  I wasn’t clever or even perceptive in this case: as a silly woman I had responded to the emotional appeal of a young man with a very attractive voice who had presumably opted out of the system. I felt ashamed that, after living with a man like Nardy and knowing a man like Tommy here, I could allow my emotion to be so affected by such an unprincipled individual. And there was another thing; he had a nerve, hadn’t he, to imagine that I … Oh, shut up!

  ‘What did you say?’

  I hadn’t realised that I had lain back and closed my eyes while facing up to the fact that yet once again I was a very ordinary individual, and in more ways than one.

  ‘I was thinking.’

  ‘I thought you had gone to sleep. I’ve got a confession to make,’ he said.

  ‘What have you done now?’

  ‘I bought Spring Fever.’

  ‘The … the boat?’

  ‘The … the boat.’

  ‘Oh, Tommy.’ I shook my head; then asked, ‘How much did you finally pay for it?’

  ‘Thirty-one thousand.’

  ‘Oh my!’

  ‘She’s a beauty. I can’t wait to get you onto her, and I promise you that she’ll move no further than the Thames if you feel at all afraid; and I wouldn’t mind that because she’s just lovely to be in. I can’t explain it. Captain Lee feels the same way about her. He’s been with her as he puts it, since she was born, seven years ago. He saw her being finished off in the yard a week after he was made redundant because his company was cutting down on their line. You’ll like him … Ned. He’s a fine fellow. He’s dying to meet you.’

  ‘Oh, be quiet!’

  ‘Yes, he is, because he knows as well as I do that it depends upon you whether he keeps his job or not. It’s down to practicalities now. I can manage her on the river, but I should need some practice before I could cross the Channel and go up the French rivers. Just think of it, Maisie.’ He hitched himself further towards me and took my face between his big hands, saying quietly, ‘We could have our honeymoon in France. Come on, how say you?’

  I looked into his dear kind face and knew that I must stop stalling. Nardy had wanted it this way, and I did too. Yes, I did now more than ever. And just as I had felt grateful to Nardy for taking on this commonplace woman, as I knew myself to be, so I again felt grateful to Nardy’s friend. But such were my emotions at the moment that I couldn’t answer like a sensible individual with a simple ‘Yes,’ but had to say facetiously, ‘That seems quite in order, Mr Balfour.’

  ‘Oh, Maisie, darling.’ His arms were about me, his long lean face was close to mine, and his words came thick and muffled as he said, ‘I love you so much, Maisie.’

  That was the odd thing about it, the weird thing, the intensity with which I created love and hate in people … in men. Look at Stickle. At this thought I metaphorically shook myself, my mind crying at me, I’m not looking back on Stickle or my mother; I’m going to look ahead and count my blessings and realise that the love I’ve inspired is much stronger than the hate.

  ‘Don’t cry, darling.’

  ‘I’m not crying.’

  ‘No, of course you’re not.’ He wiped my eyes; then softly he asked, ‘Do you think you’ll ever be able to say you love me, really love me?’

  He did not add, ‘as you did Nardy,’ because he knew that would be impossible, and I knew I could never love again as I had loved Nardy. But there were so many different kinds of love and so many levels of love, and I knew in this moment that on one of the levels I loved this man, and so I replied simply, ‘I love you now, Tommy, and I thank you for loving me.’

  He didn’t kiss me, he just laid his head on my shoulder and said softly, ‘We’ll make it soon, straight after the court case is over.’

  The court case.

  The following day they took the plaster off my leg and arm and what followed was almost as painful as when I returned to consciousness. Yet, I forced myself to laugh with the therapist, the nurses and the doctor as they made jokes about the ‘two sticks’ they had to get moving.

  Three days later I was wheeled from the room to the therapy ward; and my efforts there to move ‘the sticks’ were even more excruciating. But at last I was out of bed, which was wonderful.

  And it was towards the end of the week that while I was sitting by the window the Mohican came in. He was carrying a bunch of flowers. They were roses, red ones, and as in such cases I guessed there would be the conventional dozen.

  ‘Back to life?’ He looked down on me.

  ‘Yes. Yes, back to life.’

  ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘Very well, fine in fact.’

  He continued to look at me; then holding out the roses at arm’s length as a child might and in the same manner, he said, ‘Brought these for you.’

  I looked at them, then said quietly, ‘They’re very nice, but you’re offering them to the wrong person.’

  His arm dropped: he turned and laid the roses on a side table; then going to the bedside he lifted up a chair and brought it towards the window and, sitting slowly down on it, he said, ‘I thought we’d discussed that at the last board meeting.’

  ‘Not quite.’

  I looked at him. He was staring me full in the face and again I felt sorry that I’d found him to be other than the nice Mohican, and also I knew that I couldn’t flail him with words as I would have done had he appeared shortly after Hilda’s visit. So my voice was quiet as I said, ‘Your roses might have been of some solace to Hilda in place of the baby that she wanted and could have had.’

  I watched the expression on his face change: his colour deepened, the muscles under his cheekbones moved in and out; and his voice came from between tight lips as he said, ‘She was no more fit to have a child than I as the Indian was fit to provide for it.’

  Now my voice was angry as I said, ‘If you didn’t consider her fit to have a child why did you give her one?’

  ‘Well, if you want to know the truth, Mrs Leviston, it was because she pestered me. I never took up with her in the first place; she became my shadow. She got rigged out as she did because she thought it would draw me to her. You could say that I didn’t give her the child, she took it from me.’

  ‘Then why did you keep on with her?’

  ‘Because in that particular job I recognised she could
be good cover. A loner is always under suspicion, but squatting with someone like her you were accepted. It’s a dangerous business, which has been proved to you, I hope.’

  I looked back at him and heard myself say, ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘And I’m sorry too.’ His expression altered.

  ‘She loves you so much.’

  He tossed his head impatiently to the side, saying, ‘Only because she saw I was a little different from her usual acquaintances. Maisie’—he was gripping both my hands now—‘don’t you see it’s impossible? What kind of a life would we have?’

  ‘Perhaps better in lots of ways than with a girl you consider of your own class. And she would learn. Why, she came in here the other day and she looked so … ’

  He screwed up his face. ‘She came?’ He had pulled back from me. ‘I thought it might be her mother or May, but she came?’

  ‘Yes, yes, she came.’

  ‘Good God!’ He got to his feet, put his hand to his head and turned towards the window and stared down onto the forecourt.

  I said softly, ‘You would make something of her, make her what you want, she would learn. As I said, she would learn.’

  He swung round on me. ‘She would learn nothing. She is of a type. All she wants is bed; she’s as oversexed as a bloody rabbit.’

  On other occasions I would have laughed, and when he said, ‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered, ‘Oh, you needn’t apologise.’ He came now and stood close by my side. ‘You see me as a louse, don’t you?’

  ‘No, I don’t, John.’ The fact that I’d spoken his name changed the light in his eyes, and I turned my gaze from his and looked out of the window as I continued, ‘But I’m sorry for Hilda, for I know that she sincerely loves you. Whichever way it is, she loves you, and it’s a pity you can’t see it that way. But I understand.’ I looked at him again and watched him slowly smile, and then he said, ‘You know, you have a funny face, an appealing, funny face.’

  There it was again, my heart knocking against my ribs. I brought my defences up and heard myself lying, ‘Huh! It’s odd you should think that, that’s what Tommy says. By the way, we’re going to be married shortly.’