‘I wouldn’t worry about her, Mam. She wants her ears boxed. I bet, if they were counted up, she’s got more clothes than you, me and Angela put together.’
‘You may be right there.’
In the drawing room Bill voiced Katie’s sentiments, only more strongly, when he said to Fiona, ‘She wants her backside scudded, that one, and I’ll be the one to do it before long, I’m telling you. There’s one thing certain, she doesn’t take after her mother or father. I sometimes think it’s a pity she didn’t go with them when the car went up.’
‘Oh, Bill.’
‘Never mind, oh, Bill’—his finger was pointing at Fiona—‘you’re the one that has to put up with her: keep your tongue quiet and use your hands. See if that’ll make any difference.’
Nell put in now, ‘Is it that Miss Nancy has got something new?’
‘Spangles.’
‘Spangles?’
‘Yes, spangles. Apparently she’s got a dress that’s all spangles, and madam wants some put on her party dress.’
‘Oh, that’s a lovely dress. You mean the last one?’
‘I suppose it’s the last one; I don’t know. But it’s one of her party dresses. She’s had three in the last year.’
‘Funny that,’ said Bill, nodding as if to himself. ‘The old fella can send money galore for her clothes, but he’s quibbling at paying her school fees. And I don’t know what he’ll do next year or so when she moves up, because they’ll be trebled. In his last letter the old bloke asked if that kind of school was necessary, for there was good education all round these days. By the way, that family, what kind of people are they? She’s been going to tea every Friday there for months now, hasn’t she?’
‘Yes, but you met her at the parents’ do; you were talking to her, remember? She said her name was Mrs Polgar, but that she was usually called Gertie.’
‘Oh yes. Yes, of course, I remember. Very chatty. Smart, not bad-looking either.’ He now turned slightly to the side and winked at Bert, and Bert’s unexpected reply brought laughter from both Fiona and Nell, while Bill said, ‘You watch it, boy. Watch it.’ For what Bert said was, ‘With a name like Gertie to go with the spangles she’s passed on to her daughter, she should be just up your street, boss.’
‘Let’s get out, Bert,’ Nell said hurriedly. ‘We’ve outstayed our welcome. Be seeing you, Fiona.’
‘Bye-bye, Fiona.’
Fiona nodded at Bert the while still laughing; and Bill, calling after them almost in a yell now, cried, ‘And if either of you want to enter this house again, ask for an appointment.’
‘Will do. Will do.’ They both turned and nodded at him, their faces serious now. ‘Yes, sir, we’ll do that.’ ‘Goodbye,’ added Bert now, ‘and the best of the rest of the weekend to you, sir.’
When the door closed on them, Bill threw his head back and said, ‘Talk about people changing; there’s a change in a man if you ever saw one. He’s a dark horse, you know. He’s got a lot up top that I never dreamed of. I’m…I’m going to put him on the board.’ The latter was said casually as he stooped down and lifted Angela from the rug, where she had been playing with her poodle. And, dropping onto the couch with her, he added, ‘He’s worth it.’
‘Oh! Oh, Bill.’ Fiona sat down close beside him, then put her hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her and added, ‘At times, you know, I like you very much. When I don’t love you, I like you. But when I love you and like you at the same time, I like you very much, Mr Bailey. Nell will be over the moon.’
‘Aye, I bet she will, and he’ll get the surprise of his life. Oh, he’ll say he can’t do it, that he’s not fit for that kind of position. And my answer to that’ll be, I wasn’t at one time either. But look at me now.’
‘Yes, look at you now. That was a wonderful piece in the paper yesterday about the houses, and from an unsolicited quarter. “Bailey’s homes will be hard to beat.” And they went on to describe the mosaic that woman’s having in her flat.’
‘Huh!’ He laughed now. ‘She’s a marler that one, she must be a millionaire; two or three times over, I would think. She’s paid for half the place now and she’s always urging me to hurry; she wants to get in. But I have to tell her, “No, madam, we can’t hurry.” As for the mosaic, she’s having it brought from Italy, and two Italians to put it down. It will be all over her private hall. I nearly suggested her doing the main hall with it, too, but I didn’t. Anyway, it’ll be like a palace before it’s finished. And I think that’s what the bloke who wrote that piece saw; and it’s only half done.’
‘Has she got a big family?’
‘I don’t know anything about her family, love, but I know that she’s got three dogs, two of them are as big as ponies. The third one, a little Pekingese, would go in a pint pot, and it rides on the back of one of the other Afghans. And I’ve got another piece of news for you.’
‘Well, spill it, Mr B.’
‘We’re invited to the Hunt Ball.’
‘Oh! Well, that isn’t earth-shattering, but it’s very nice.’
‘Yes, it’s very nice, especially when the invitation came from Mr George Ferndale.’
‘Ferndale, the barrister?’
‘No other, and one of the chief men in Sir Charles’s trust. They are the power above the board, if you get me.’
‘I get you. Did you accept?’
‘I thanked him and said yes. And he said his wife would be getting in touch with us.’
‘Oh, that’s nice. I hope she calls.’
‘So do I.’ They bowed their heads politely at each other, then laughed. And musingly now, Fiona said, ‘It’s fantastic. You’re fantastic, the things you’ve done.’
‘You’re not taking into account, Mrs B, the things I’m going to do. This pleasant lot should last for three years or so. In the meantime I’ll have to look further afield because there’s no more big plots left in Fellburn or on the outskirts, as far as I can gather. And I wouldn’t likely ever be able to take this crew again with me, but whatever I do, dear, I must look after my lads. You see, I look upon them as family, eleven of them; I feel I’ve brought them up. They’re all in good positions now and they thanked me in their own way, such as calling me, behind my back, “Big Bill Bawling Bailey”.’
‘That’s a new one.’ She was shaking now.
‘Well, it used to be just “Bawling Bailey”, but now it’s Big Bill. I suppose I should take it as an honour, you know, MA, or D.Litt., like the square-heads have after their names.’
She leant forward now and slowly stroked Angela’s hair away from her brow and laughing eyes as she said, ‘I was just thinking yesterday of the burden our lot are on you. Well, not quite a burden, but there’s four of them, including Sammy, of course. And by the look of it Mark is quite determined to go in for medicine in rather a big way, not just as an ordinary doctor; he’s got the idea of being a surgeon.’
‘A surgeon? Ah, I hadn’t heard that bit. But then again I couldn’t see him being an ordinary doctor; he would never be able to acquire the bedside manner; he would be like ours, who marches into this house, comes up to the bed and says, “What’s the matter with you?”’
Fiona laughed and said, ‘Yes, he does, always. But he’s wonderful, nevertheless.’
‘Aye. Aye. He’s been wonderful about her.’ Bill now outlined the shape of his daughter’s face with his first finger. The mongol look wasn’t prominent, but it was there, and no-one, not even Dr Pringle, was able to convince him that her mind wasn’t normal, in fact was even superior to those of some children of her age and that she would grow up and develop like any other child.
Fiona was saying now, ‘But he’s well aware that when he leaves the Royal Grammar next year he’ll have perhaps up to ten years slogging before him. And it’ll have to be paid for. He says’—she now glanced at Bill—‘he’d like to do his training in London if possible, there or Edinburgh. But I’ve already pointed out to him that the living in London would be terribly expensive. Ye
s, he said, he knew and he didn’t know how he was going to approach you.’
‘So he told you to soften me up, eh?’
‘No. No, he didn’t. It wasn’t like that at all. It’s very rarely you see him at his desk without his head down. I found him moping and he said he was wondering what he should really do. You see there is the medical school here, and apparently a very good one, but London and Edinburgh, of course, have built up their reputations over a long period. He feels he should stay here.’
‘Oh, does he? Just to save expense? Well, when you next find him moping, you can hint to him to forget about the expense. But I’ll expect him to pay me back and look after me in me old age.’
She put her arm around his neck, and he said, ‘Look out, woman! And stop making love to me in front of the child. She takes everything in, you know. Don’t you, love?’
‘Da…da. Mum…Mum.’
‘Yes, there you are. That’s plain enough for you, isn’t it, da…da, and mum…mum? You say yourself you hardly spoke a word until you were five. Anyway, that’s Mark settled. Now there’s only the others. The other two males are at Dame Allan’s and it’ll be some time before you’ve got to worry about them. You know, I’ll always think it was another nice thing that Sammy did when he, too, had the choice between Dame Allan’s and the Royal Grammar School and he picked Dame Allan’s, as Willie had done, knowing there would always have been his big brother’s reputation to contend with at the Royal Grammar.’
It was odd, Fiona thought, that he always found and put forward Sammy’s good deeds. He rarely pointed out those of Mark or Willie. But then they rarely did the same kind of things that Sammy did, unselfish things. A tiny spark of jealousy caused her to think, he loves that boy better than he does mine. But then, she mustn’t forget he owed much more to Sammy than he did to either of hers. And again, Sammy was but a replica of himself as a boy and a young lad, with the quick-fire and brash tongue.
Kissing her quickly on the lips before thrusting the child onto the rug again, he said, ‘I’m off into the office, but I promise you, only an hour. In the meantime, look up your posh magazines and pick on some highfalutin shop where you can go and get a dress. But not, mind’—he was wagging his finger at her now—‘with spangles on.’
She did not speak until he had gone through the doorway and was about to close the door, when she said quite calmly, ‘Just might at that.’
For answer he turned and gave her a long look, pushed the door wider and then banged it closed. And she sat back and thought, yes, she would like to put a spangle on her dress, metaphorically speaking that is. Here she was, thirty-six years old, she was bringing up three males and three females and a man who demanded all her love, and had sworn to her and meant it when he told her what he would do if she ever looked at another man. She had this beautiful house. She had everything that any sensible woman would want, would dream of. Yet there was…what? She didn’t know, only that when Rupert used to drop in they talked about different things, not about children or house-building. She couldn’t remember the gist of their conversations only that they were pleasant. His presence stretched her mind; that was it.
She shuffled to the front of the couch. That indeed was it, stretching one’s mind. Her life was such that her husband was doing everything for her and she was doing everything for her children, but nothing for herself. Why shouldn’t she take up something? Oh dear. Oh dear. She shook her head: she could hear Bill; his roar was deafening her even now. As she said, hadn’t she everything? Six kids and him, a beautiful house, a mother who had changed character, friends like Nell and Bert, she went out to dinner at posh restaurants, she had been invited to the Hunt Ball.
But that spot in her mind said, so what?
Two
‘Look! It’s all right going in by bus, but what about coming back? It’ll be dark.’ Fiona was addressing Sammy, the while Katie and Willie stood looking on, both knowing the argument that Sammy was about to put forward, because they had been all over it.
And now he was saying, ‘Look, Mrs B. All right, we’ll go halves; you can pick us up somewhere coming back. But if you were to drive us to those doors in a car, well, I’d lose some of my friends.’
‘What d’you mean, you’d lose some of your friends?’
‘Just what I say, Mrs B. To them I’d become toffee-nosed.’
‘Don’t be silly, Sammy. I bet every one of those that go there, they’ve got a car. At least, their parents have.’
‘Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Mrs B. Every one of them hasn’t got a car. And many of those that have…well, you wouldn’t call them cars, not even bangers.’
They looked at each other, then she said quietly, ‘Is it such a rough part?’
‘No. It’s not rough at all. Well, what I mean is, not like the middle of Bog’s End. It isn’t in Bog’s End, it’s well out of it.’
‘But, as you said yourself, Sammy, the patrons’—she stressed the word—‘are mostly from that quarter.’
‘Yes. Yes, they are.’ There was an edge to his voice now and his chin came out. And on this Fiona said quickly, ‘All right! All right! Don’t get on your high horse, Sammy Love.’ She pushed him playfully in the shoulder, and at this he doubled his fist and gave the impression he was returning her gesture as he said, ‘Fair enough. We’ll bus there and ride back. You know where my old school is, Mrs B, don’t you? You once deigned to come and view it’—he pulled a face at her—‘and you found your son’—he thumbed towards Willie—‘waiting outside. Oh! That was a day, wasn’t it, Willie?’ And Willie answered, ‘I’ll say.’
Since the flare-up on Saturday, Willie had been very quiet, and it was only as a concession that he was accompanying them tonight; and as he had emphasised strongly, he wasn’t going to fall in with any of their ideas. And at this Sammy had said, well, he could be assured that nobody there would force him because there were queues waiting to take up every sport.
As they made for the door, Fiona said to Katie, ‘Keep your collar up, dear, it’s cold out there. And…and you haven’t got a scarf on.’
‘I’ve got this roll-neck sweater on underneath, Mam; there was no room for a scarf.’ She smiled at Fiona, and Fiona said quietly, ‘Be careful, dear.’
‘I’ll be careful, Mam. Don’t worry.’ Then, with a grin, she added, ‘I only need one lesson then I’ll be able to toss them on their backs, both at once, too.’
Amid derisive laughter she followed the boys out.
They took the bus from the crossroads, and twenty-five minutes later they alighted at Denham Road, for this particular bus did not pass the Sports Centre.
Denham Road was almost on the outskirts of Bog’s End, which became apparent to Katie when she realised that demolition of houses was already in progress and others, which were inhabited, were partly boarded up. On an open piece of ground children were playing with an old car amid shrieks of laughter.
Willie had seen similar places in Bog’s End some years before, when he had first made his way to Sammy’s school. But this kind of dereliction was new to Katie, and she knew that Sammy was talking all the while in order to keep her attention from her surroundings.
Then, having crossed this space, quite suddenly they were walking along an ordinary street again, and this, Sammy Love pointed out, was the new council estate.
When Katie drew in a long breath, Sammy turned to her, saying, ‘That’s better.’
She half stopped and stared at him and said, ‘You don’t always come this way then? I mean—’ she jerked her head backwards.
‘No; you’re right, I don’t always come this way. I thought I would introduce you to the other half; but you’ve really seen nothing as yet. Willie, here, knows a bit about it. My school and where I once lived was a good introduction. But don’t worry, we won’t come this way again. I only thought, if you saw for yourself how things are around here for most of the youngsters, you’d understand what a blessing the Centre is.’
Whatever impression S
ammy had meant to make on Katie by introducing her to the real Bog’s End, he didn’t know. Had he known, there would certainly have been a bust-up between them as of yore, for she was angry. He was treating her as if she were a pampered child who had never left the protection of her own home. Well, wasn’t he right? She never had really left the protection of home. And in comparison with anyone in this area she had been a pampered child before Bill Bailey, as he was then, had come on the scene, but more so since he had become her dad. Yes, she had been pampered, as had Mark and Willie. No, perhaps not Willie. He had stepped out of what her grandmother would call his class, and that at a very early age, when he had sought the friendship of her dominant companion, Sammy Love. Why was it? she was asking herself as they passed through the new council estate, some houses with well-tended gardens, others with weeds, with an old pram or some such stuck in their middle.
Why was it that Sammy always appeared older than herself? Even before he had begun to grow, as he was doing now, he had always acted as if he were years ahead of her. She sighed now as she gave herself the answer: he was the son of his father and an only child, and only children always appeared older than their years; but mostly it was because he was the son of Mr Davey Love, and that couldn’t be a bad thing.
‘You’re not getting huffy, are you?’ Sammy had bent towards her and was peering into her face. There was a grin on his own, and she answered it, ‘No, of course not. I’m enjoying every minute of this walk. It’s really beautiful.’
When his elbow dug into her side, she said, ‘We’ll take up the reason why for all this, later on, won’t we?’
The Bondage of Love Page 3
