The Bondage of Love

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘And you think the cutlery was silver?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know, Ma, but it was heavy.’

  ‘What was the dinner like?’

  She turned to her father now, saying, ‘Well, I suppose you would call it ordinary, but it was very tasty. Their friend, Nell they call her—she’s Mr Ormesby’s wife, you know, the man who does part-time at the Boys’ Club, and got Sep set on—she seems to be like one of the family. And she’s got a baby an’ all—she did the cooking. There was soup first, then a sort of shepherd’s pie. It was different from yours, Ma.’

  ‘It would be’—her mother nodded at her—‘fresh beef likely.’

  ‘There were three other vegetables. They were in dishes and they were passed round from one to another; you helped yourself.’

  ‘My! My! No grabs?’

  She smiled at her father now and said, ‘No grabs there, Da. No grabs there.’

  ‘Have they got any servants?’

  ‘There weren’t any kicking about, but apparently there’s a Mrs Green comes in from Fellburn every morning. When the woman, Nell, went for Willie—yes, she did, she went for him about leaving his room like paddy’s market—she said Mrs Green had only just cleaned it, and so he had to go and tidy it up himself.’

  ‘And…and young Willie took it?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Da. Mrs Ormesby, or Nell, is a power there, I think. Always has been, as far as I can gather. But somehow, I wasn’t listening to them; there was so much to see, you wouldn’t believe. Oh, Ma, you know me, I don’t care for things, at least so I’ve said up till now. But the hall, it’s a beautiful hall. It was tiled like, I suppose what you would call mosaic like. But the drawing room was carpeted wall to wall, as was the dining room, in a lovely deep pink with a pattern on it. In the drawing room, you’ll never believe it, the colour that matched the carpet, the upholstery and the curtains was a sort of golden-yellow; brocade stuff. It was like something you would see on telly.’

  ‘Did they take you all over the house?’

  ‘No; well, not all over it, Da; Willie took me to the recreation room. He knew I’d be interested in that. They’ve got everything in it. As Willie said, they only need horizontal bars and a trampoline.’

  ‘You said there was a swimming pool?’

  Daisy looked at her mother for a moment now without speaking, then she said, ‘Yes. Aye, Ma, there is. But I couldn’t stay there looking at it. I couldn’t bear it, ’cos I was imagining what it would be like to get up and swim in there every day. My! I got a bit bitter at times, thinking, This lot don’t know they’re born. But then Katie took me upstairs and her bedroom wasn’t as posh as I expected. In fact, it was a bit old-fashioned. To me, the bedroom suite was outsize. She said quite openly that it had come with the house, but it was of such beautiful wood the mother wouldn’t part with it. And the bathroom was a bit old-fashioned, an’ all. It had a standing iron bath, Da, you know, with little legs on, curved legs. I bet you it was six-foot-six, if it was an inch. But it was just one of the bathrooms. I think there were three up there. And the main bedroom had what you would call a dressing room going off.’

  ‘She took you in there?’

  ‘No, Ma, not really. She didn’t purposely take me in, but she had to go in to pick up a warmer coat to take to her mother. And we went through the bedroom and into this other room that used to be the dressing-room but is now all wardrobes. The bedroom too had old-fashioned furniture in it. Nothing what you would call smart. Well’—she tossed her head—‘it’s a matter of taste, isn’t it? But you would have liked it, Ma, and you an’ all, Da. Aye, you an’ all. But there was none of the beds canopied, or any of them in modern brass, they were all just wooden or padded backs…but oh, downstairs it was lovely! I have to admit, Ma, it was lovely. And you would have gone crackers over the kitchen. Thirty feet! Oh aye, thirty feet if an inch.’

  ‘The kitchen was thirty feet long?’ Len poked his head out towards her.

  ‘Yes, Da. It was as long as this room and the front room put together.’

  ‘Never!’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘But the main thing,’ put in her mother, ‘is how did you find them? As a whole, how are you finding them?’

  Daisy looked down at her hands and she drummed her fingers on the table for a moment before she said quietly, ‘If I’m being honest, I would say they’re a decent lot. You know how the swanks get up my nose; and when I first met Katie I thought she was one of them, but she’s not. As for Willie. Oh, no; he’s no high-hat. I think perhaps his older brother, Mark, might be a bit. But he was nice enough to me, although quiet and stared a lot.’

  ‘Could you blame him, lass,’ her father said, ‘could you blame him? That hair! When are you going to stop messing your hair up? Come on, now; it’s gone out of fashion, you know. I might not get out very much, but I read the papers, and the woman’s page’—he laughed at her—‘and it’s gone out of fashion, as have your football socks.’

  ‘Well, I don’t go with the fashions, Da; never did. And I’m me, and if you don’t like me, you know what you can do.’

  ‘Aye, madam; and if you raise that tone to me again, you’ll know what I’ll do.’

  ‘Now, now, both of you!’

  ‘Well, Ma’—Daisy tossed her head—‘you know for a fact you’ve got to make yourself stand out else nobody takes any notice of you. You’re just one of a crowd to be humped together, to be treated like scum or made pregnant and live in one room, or land up in the police court, or…’

  ‘Enough! Enough, lass! Enough.’

  ‘Well, Da, you started it. Just leave me and me hair alone. Anyway, none of them passed out when they saw me. Although the woman…Nell grinned at me, and she called me lass. We seemed to be on common ground then. And Mr Bailey…well, I’ve told you. He can be as rough as a sheet of emery paper one minute and then be speaking Mr Fowler’s English the next.’

  ‘Who’s Mr Fowler?’

  Daisy tilted her chin and laughed, saying, ‘Oh, Ma! Ma! He’s nobody I know; he’s just a man who wrote a book, and our English teacher at school, you know the barmy nun, Sister Felicia…Well, we all said she used to go to bed with Mr Fowler ’cos he spoke correct English. Oh, what a lot of time she wasted on us.’ She now turned her laughing face towards her father. He didn’t return her laughter but said, ‘And what a lot of time you wasted, lass, in not listening to her.’

  ‘I can speak as good as the next, Da.’

  ‘You can speak in a certain way as good as the next, but not as good as the next.’

  Daisy got to her feet abruptly, saying, ‘You always hit me on the wrong spot, Da. Anyway, I’m off to bed now, ’cos I’m getting up early in the morning and going to the hospital.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to work the morrow, lass?’

  ‘Yes…Ma…Yes, I’m going to work the morrow, don’t worry. And they won’t sack me ’cos I’m the best they’ve got in our department. There’s some lazy buggers in there. If I was in charge I’d give them the sack.’

  ‘Mr Fowler’s English! Mr Fowler’s English!’

  ‘And the same to you, Da, and the same to you!’

  As she went out of the room and they heard her going up the stairs, Len said quietly, ‘As I see it, Annie, she’s got a chance in a lifetime, getting to know that family. But…but being her, she’ll bungle it, and not so much through her get-up, but through her tongue. I’ve never known her be concerned about anybody so much as she is for this lad and the condition he’s in, ’cos she couldn’t have known him all that well.’

  Danny’s voice came from the end of the table, where he had been quietly playing tiddlywinks with Jean during the whole of the conversation, and he was saying, ‘Our Sep says it’s ’cos she’s gone sweet on him, and that she was just trying to get her picture into the paper along of me, just to show off her hair.’

  His mother now turned on him, saying, ‘Then all I can say is, you’re a silly little idiot to think she wants to get her picture in the pape
r. But your brother Sep is a bigger idiot saying what he did.’ She turned now and went towards the fire, and as she poked it vigorously Len said, ‘I don’t know so much about Sep’s idea being that of an idiot. The particular lad in question is no relation whatever to the Baileys. He’s still the son of Davey Love. And, as I’ve openly said before, and maintain, that Davey Love, at best, was a rough customer. But by what the lass said when she was here on Saturday, the Bailey family, from top to bottom, seem to love him. And I give it to you, that everybody has another side. I’ve seen Davey Love in action and he knew every letter of the ‘no holds barred’ term. So I cannot see any difference between the lad in question and our Daisy. Except that she will dress outrageously, I admit that. But put her in some decent clothes and put her where she can talk and she’d be as good as the next, at least on that young man’s level. Although again I admit that he’s having an education well above her own. But to my mind, that’s her fault; she could have stayed on. Now I’ve said that, haven’t I, Annie? She could have stayed on.’

  Annie said nothing. Len was right about many things. He was also right that if their Daisy would change her rig-out she could pass herself in some company. But, by her description of the Baileys and the house they lived in, she could never really mix with that lot. Not in a way so as to become close to them, as Sep had suggested, because the young lad now lying near death’s door mightn’t be a Bailey, but he wasn’t a kick in the backside off it, class-wise, because he had been with them for years. And the way he spoke was practically in the same tongue as that of the young fella Willie. So if their Daisy was wise, she would stick to her own class. But who was to tell her that? Oh, yes, there was the point, who would have the nerve to tell her that?

  Eleven

  Katie was feeling very tired. This was the fourth day Sammy had been in a coma.

  At the other side of his bed sat a policeman. He, too, looked weary.

  A nurse came into the room, and Katie moved aside for her to take Sammy’s temperature and blood pressure. It was as she recorded these on a chart that there came from the bed a sound that brought the policeman from his seat and caused Katie to exclaim loudly, ‘He spoke! He spoke!’

  ‘Hush!’ said the nurse as she stared down on Sammy.

  When the sound came again she said quickly, ‘Don’t fuss him, I must get Sister.’

  Once the door closed on the nurse, Katie could not restrain herself from putting her fingers on Sammy’s cheek and saying, ‘Sammy! Sammy! It’s Katie. Do you hear me? Come on, Sammy! Wake up! Come on! Look!’

  The policeman’s head was close to hers, and he said, ‘Quiet a minute, miss; he’s trying to speak…What did you say? What is it you said?’

  They both watched Sammy’s lips move: it was as if he was saying ‘Mama.’

  When Sister came hurrying into the room, hissing, ‘Leave him alone! Get out of the way!’ and went to push the policeman aside, he checked her, saying, ‘He’s trying to say something Sister, and if you don’t mind I would like to hear what it is.’

  For reply, he was greeted with a further hiss, ‘And if you don’t mind, constable, you will move to the side until I attend the patient.’

  The policeman stepped aside and looked across the bed at Katie, who had also been pushed aside.

  ‘Come along, Mr Love! Come along,’ sister was saying. ‘You’re all right. Everything’s all right. Open your eyes. Now, come along, Mr Love.’

  Had she omitted the ‘Mr’, Katie thought, she would have sounded affectionate, whereas she made the ‘Mr’ sound like a command. Then she did exclaim when Sammy’s eyelids fluttered; and she actually did speak aloud when he half-opened his eyes, ‘Oh, Sammy! It’s me…Katie,’ and when sister remonstrated, saying, ‘Miss!’, she in no way put Katie in her place, for she replied, ‘He’s more likely to respond to me than to a uniformed—’ she almost said, ‘individual’, but managed to bring out, ‘nurse’.

  The sister straightened up and, looking across the bed at Katie, she said in a voice just above a whisper, ‘He will respond to no-one for some time. He must not be disturbed or agitated any further at the moment,’ and she turned to confront the policeman and added, ‘Do you hear that, officer?’

  His reply was as soft, but as vehement, when he said, ‘Yes, Sister, I hear it. But I’m on duty here, and this patient holds valuable information, which’—his voice dropping still lower, he added—‘might be the means of helping a great many people, or destroying a great many. It’s how you look at it.’

  Sister’s neck seemed to stretch from the collar of her blue uniform; then, looking across the bed, she addressed her subordinate, saying, ‘Remain on duty in this room for the time being, nurse.’

  She might as well have said, ‘See that these two do as I’ve told them.’

  After the door closed on her the policeman muttered softly, ‘She’s like one of the old tartars. I thought they were all retired.’

  The nurse grinned at him before saying softly, ‘Like you, she knows her job.’ Then turning to Katie, she pushed a chair towards her, adding, ‘Don’t expect any change yet a while. But it’ll come.’

  In this case, however, both the nurse and the sister were mistaken, for it was less than half an hour later when Sammy again opened his eyes. He blinked and his eyes moved from side to side while his head remained still. This time the name was distinct, ‘Mamie!’

  ‘She’s…she’s all right, Sammy. This is me, Katie. You’re going to be all right.’

  ‘Mamie!’

  The policeman was hanging over him now, saying, ‘Yes, sir, Mamie is all right. Can you remember anything?’

  Katie put out her hand and pushed at the policeman’s shoulder as she hissed, ‘Give him a chance. It’ll come.’

  ‘He could go off into a coma again…Can you remember any names, sir?’ the policeman persisted.

  ‘If you don’t leave him alone,’ the nurse said, ‘I’ll call Sister back right now.’

  The policeman straightened up, and he said stiffly, ‘Every word he says will mean something and could be a lead.’

  Before the nurse could respond, Sammy spoke again, ‘Ka…tie,’ he murmured.

  ‘Yes, dear?’

  ‘Mr…B.’

  The policeman was all ears now, saying nothing, but listening intently until Sammy said, ‘Ma…mie…Bunch…powder.’

  When Sammy closed his eyes, the nurse said, with some agitation, ‘Leave him alone, please! Let him rest.’

  They both straightened up and the policeman, after rapidly making some notes, said, ‘Well, that’s a start,’ to which Katie stressed, ‘Mr B is referring to my father.’

  Slightly disappointed, the policeman said, ‘Well what about Bunch? Did you recognise that?’

  ‘No,’ said Katie.

  ‘Sit down!’ said the nurse to both of them, ‘And be quiet, please.’

  By eight o’clock that night, Bill had taken Katie’s place and there was a different policeman sitting there. When Bill had entered the room, the policeman introduced himself, saying, ‘Police Constable West, sir.’ Bill had nodded to him before turning to Katie and saying, ‘Your mother’s waiting for you,’ and she whispered, ‘Dad, he spoke. He said Mamie and another name that sounded like Bunch.’

  ‘Oh, yes? Yes?’ He nodded at her, but pressed her towards the door.

  In the corridor he said quietly, ‘He likely wanted to say something about that little bitch. I’ve got it in my mind that she’s been the instigator of all this. She still won’t speak except to say she wants to go to her grandfather. I can tell you, she can’t get there quick enough for me. Anyway, don’t let your mother come out again; Willie’s coming to take over later on.’

  As Bill sat down by the side of Sammy’s bed, the policeman said, ‘He’s been knocked about…the young fella, hasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, he has,’ Bill said; but when the policeman said, ‘You can’t believe the things that happen these days,’ and went on to relate them, he wished to hell t
he man would shut up.

  He sat back in his chair, and closed his eyes, only to jerk forward again at the sound of Sammy’s voice, saying, ‘Mr Bill…Mr Bill.’

  ‘Yes, Sammy, I’m here. Take it easy now.’

  ‘B…Bill.’

  ‘Yes? Yes, lad, this is Bill.’

  ‘Shop…lift…’

  Both Bill and the policeman exchanged glances. And the policeman said, ‘What did you say, sir?’

  They had both heard what he had said, and when it came again, ‘Shop…lift,’ and then after a gasping breath, ‘Mamie lifting,’ the policeman repeated, ‘He said shoplifting.’

  Bill had heard the words but was actually shocked by Mamie’s name being associated with them.

  Sammy had moved his head slightly on the pillow and now he looked at the face above him and said again, ‘Br…Br…Brunch.’

  ‘What did you say, sir? Brunch?’

  Sammy’s eyelids drooped, but as they did, he repeated, ‘Brunch.’

  At that moment the door opened and the nurse came in, and as she made for the bed Bill said, ‘He’s spoken, nurse.’

  ‘Good.’ Her voice was noncommittal. ‘But he mustn’t be pressed. He wants sleep now, ordinary sleep, and then tomorrow he will likely be quite lucid.’ She now went through the procedure of taking Sammy’s pulse, blood pressure and temperature; then said ‘I’ll be back in a minute or so.’ Then, turning to Bill and her voice softening, she said, ‘Unless you’d like to stay in the waiting room as before.’