The Bondage of Love

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘That a fact?’

  ‘That’s a fact. I paid sixty-five pounds for Katie’s ankle boots, and they’re nothing compared with those.’

  Straight away putting out her hand, Daisy pushed Katie in the shoulder, saying, ‘Well, I’ve got one up on you at last.’

  Before Katie could retaliate Sammy asked, ‘What did Mike get?’

  ‘Oh, well, you wouldn’t believe it.’ Daisy shook her head. ‘You should have seen how he came down those stairs; and I’ve never seen him look so…well, the only word I can say is happy. As you know, Sammy, Mike’s always got a perpetual scowl against life; but he looked handsome. He did. Well, he was never bad-looking.’

  ‘I thought he was very good-looking,’ put in Katie.

  ‘Oh, you did?’ Daisy had turned quickly towards Katie. ‘I’ll tell him, then.’

  ‘Yes, do. Quite macho.’

  ‘Oh-ho!’ Daisy laughed now. ‘That’ll tickle him.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Sammy said, ‘tell us, woman, what did he get?’

  ‘Well, he got two pairs of smashing trousers, lovely stuff, and a tweed jacket, the like he has never had. But the main thing was the overcoat, and he kept telling me it was a Crombie, made in Scotland. I’ve never seen him go over the top about clothes before; but then he’s never had anything like that.’

  ‘Well, if it’s a Crombie, it’s the tops.’

  She looked at Bill and said, ‘Well, it looks it. It’s a fawnish colour, almost a light brown, and you would swear he’d had it made to measure. I tell you, I’ve never seen our Mike look so happy. He also got two shirts and a pair of boots. Oh yes, and a pair of shoes. And Miss Gwenda must have fallen for him, because she put all his odds and ends in a plain bag. And when me da saw the stuff he was absolutely miffed; and me ma’s going there to get him some odds and ends.’

  ‘How much did he spend altogether?’ Willie asked.

  ‘Eighteen pounds. And’—again she was nodding at Bill—‘he could only do that because of you. And if over these holidays you’ve made anybody happier than the rest, I think it’s him. I’ll never forget his face when he came down those stairs into the lower shop in that coat.’

  ‘And what did all yours cost you?’ Katie was asking.

  ‘Fourteen pounds-fifty. But mind, I could have had four of me usual rig-outs for that, and a hair-do.’

  ‘Well, thank God, we’ve been saved any more shocks.’

  ‘Oh you!’ She jerked her head towards Bill, and in answer, he said, ‘You, an’ all.’ And they smiled at each other. Then turning to Fiona, Daisy said, ‘You know something? I can’t get over the old girl in that shop. She must have been…well, kicking seventy herself; the veins on the back of her hands were standing out like pikestaffs.’

  ‘Is that how you tell age?’

  She turned to Willie now, saying, ‘Yes, it is, in a way. But…but there she was, at a holiday time, sorting out all that stuff, and likely would keep open all day. And it’s voluntary, you know. Oh, yes, she looked a voluntary type, and I bet she wasn’t in need of a penny either. Well, when you wear Chanel, you must have a bit put by.’

  ‘Chanel scent, you mean?’

  ‘Yes, Chanel scent, that’s what I mean.’

  She jerked her head towards Bill now, and when he said, ‘How d’you know about Chanel?’ she almost snapped back ‘That’s my business! Anyway, I bet I know more about it than you do.’

  ‘I bet you don’t. I’ve paid thirty pounds for a bottle of it for her mother. And that monkey there,’ he stabbed his finger towards Katie, ‘she poured the lot over herself. But’—he smiled now—‘it saved you from being murdered, didn’t it?’

  ‘How’s that?’

  ‘Oh, it’s another long story. But how did you recognise the smell of Chanel?’

  ‘It’s a private matter.’

  ‘Well, that’s not going to stop you from telling us, is it?’

  She looked at Fiona, saying, ‘He’s nosy, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, he is nosy, Daisy. But I, too, would like to hear.’

  ‘Well, all right then. But let it be a warning to you.’ She turned back to Bill, making a deep obeisance with her head. ‘Well, it’s like this. There were three bosses at our place. One we called Highchurch. He was the fellow who built the concern, and he would pop in every now and again. Lowchapel, as we used to call the second, was a stiff-neck. The third one we’ll call Mr X. He was very popular. Not that I saw anything of him, for the offices were right over at the other side of the yard, and being down in the basement…By the way, did I tell you I’ve been promoted? I’m head of the packing section now. Eight under me.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good!’ This came from all quarters. And as they looked at her, they registered her pleasure, for her face looked bright, her round dark eyes twinkling. Then she said, ‘To get on. The Chanel business started, oh, long before that. I’ve only been in my elevated position for the last five weeks, and it’s got one drawback; I can’t make any more excuses about going sick, or me ma being in bed, or some other futile excuse, because I was never believed. Anyway, the manageress upstairs has been known to say, “If they are a trouble”’—she now mimicked the voice of the manageress—‘“give them a little power, and it works wonders.” So that’s what they did with me.’

  When the laughter died down she went on, ‘I’d never seen this bloke…this third boss, more than twice and then from a distance. Until one night I was crossing the yard with the lasses and he was going the other way to get into his car, one of those BMWs, you know, a smasher, and he smiled at us. The others went all goofy and giggly, but not me. Mind, he was a good-looking bloke and even my mates used to ooh and aah about him. Well, I’ve never oohed and aahed about anybody and I wasn’t going to start about him.’ She now pulled a face, ‘And anyway, I wasn’t like the rest, was I? And he must have noticed.’

  ‘I bet he did.’

  Again she was nodding towards Bill, saying, ‘Being of the male tribe, you would.’ Then turning quickly and almost apologetically, she said to Fiona, ‘I can’t help it, Mrs Bailey; he asks for it.’

  ‘Well, if he asks for it,’ said Fiona, ‘you give him back as much as he sends. You have my free permission.’

  ‘Well, that’s good enough for me. Anyway, where was I? Oh aye. The night that I was a little late in coming out; it was the Friday and the parcels all had to go out, and I was by meself when I went out of the gates and making for the bus stop, and he comes along right up to the kerb, stops the car and says, “Can I give you a lift?” Well, well!’ She drew in a long breath here. ‘What did I say to that? Well, I poked me head in the window and said, me ma says, no!’

  There was a gurgle from around the room and Bill said, ‘What did you say?’

  ‘You heard. I said, me ma says no!’

  ‘Well, was that any kind of answer to give him?’

  ‘Yes, it was. Oh, yes, it was, ’cos I guessed what he was after.’

  Fiona leant against the tall back of the couch and her body was shaking and, as Daisy listened to her laughter, she said, ‘That’s what he did, too, Mrs Bailey. That’s what he did. He suddenly threw his head back and he laughed. You could have heard him in Bog’s End. And when I was halfway along the road to the bus I could still hear him, and the car hadn’t moved. Anyway, I thought that was that. Then, about a week later, there he was again. It was as if he had been waiting for me coming out by meself, because he had stopped in the same place. But he didn’t ask me in this time, he put his hand out and pushed a little parcel at me, and said, “A nice smell for a good girl.” Then before I could say anything, he had started up the car and was off. Anyway, I didn’t open it until I got home, and as soon as I did and me ma saw what it was, and had been told how it had come about, she said to me, “And your ma says no!” And I said to her, “I’ve already told him that, ma.” You see, it was a saying between us, because when I was little, I would say, “I want this,” and “I want that,” and “I want to go here and I want t
o go there.” And one day me ma shook me by the shoulders and said, “Your ma says no!” Well, after that it became a sort of slogan with me. Anyway, about the Chanel: we both had a good laugh, and she said, “You keep it and don’t you dare open it. You keep it with you and throw it back into the car the next time he stops.” Well, I kept that damn package in me pocket all the following week, but no car stopped by the kerb. And then the rumours started. Well, they must have been rife upstairs, but we were the last to get them, down in the packing room. It appears there had been a stinking row upstairs in the head office, and Mr X had been sent off, so one rumour said, to the German end of the business. Another said that one day he just got up and walked out, and there wasn’t any row. There must have been because orders came from the boss to clear Mr X’s office. But nobody really got to the bottom of it for a month. Some said he had just gone on a holiday and would be back. And it was because of that rumour that I hung on to the bottle. Then it all came out; one of the typists was going to have a bairn, and then we heard his wife was asking for a divorce, because the typist wasn’t the first one to rock his cradle. Eeh!’ She stopped now and looked from one to the other as she said solemnly, ‘Just think what I escaped, just because me ma said no! When I told me ma what had happened we laughed fit to kill ourselves, because, she said, “If you hadn’t said the famous words, you would likely have been one of the many.” She also said that if I’d had a bairn, she was sure it would have been born fully rigged-out, with a bum-freezer, because that’s what must have caught his fancy.’

  Fiona leant against Bill; Katie turned her face into Daisy’s shoulder; Willie leant over the top of Sammy’s high chair; and Sammy, himself, made groaning sounds, saying, ‘Oh, dear me!’ and put his hand tightly against his side.

  It was some time before calm was restored; then Fiona said, ‘So, you enjoyed the scent after all?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t the real scent, Mrs Bailey; it was Chanel all right, but it was toilet water. It had the scent but it didn’t last; you know, not like the proper stuff. It was supposed to be used after washing your hands. Well, I didn’t just use it for me hands, I dabbed it all over. But I recognised it on the old dear in that shop, because it sort of clings to you, doesn’t it? Not strong, just nice.’

  It was Fiona now who asked, while drying her eyes, ‘Did you have a nice time at Christmas?’

  ‘Oh, Mrs Bailey, you wouldn’t believe it; it was a one-off Christmas Day, all right. And you know, we’ve got neighbours, the Misses Browns. I think I’ve told you about them. Well, they came in. Eeh! My! You never know what’s under people’s skins, do you? The tales they told. You talk about laugh. And you know something? They both liked a drop of the hard, they said. So they had a good measure of your whisky. But that didn’t please me da: he didn’t mind them having the dinner wine, oh no, but, as he said after, it was a waste giving them whisky. You know, we’ve always thought they were two dried-up sticks of old maids. Very nice, you know. Oh, always been good to us, but still old maids. But from the tales they told about one another, they vied with each other to see who could tell the worst one. I think they had been two sparks in their early life. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much. But some of their tales were far-fetched; you couldn’t believe they were ever so innocent. One had a proposition put to her by the head of a school, and she thought it was to be a kind of pupil-teacher. But it turned out he wanted her to be his mistress. It was the way they both came out with the tales, so innocent-like. Oh, yes’—she nodded her head now—‘it was the most wonderful Christmas. And you know something?’ She now bit on her lip, then looked around her and said, ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you lot this. I just don’t. I mean, personal things. There should be a law against people dragging personal things out of you.’ Again she was biting, almost dragging her lower lip in between her teeth. Then, her voice soft, in fact, her whole expression soft, she said, ‘Me da kissed me.’

  Nobody spoke. They didn’t even move. They just stared at her, all of them stared at her, as she now added quietly, ‘He had never kissed me in his life. I’d…I’d never seen him kiss anybody, not even little Jean, and she’s only nine. Never me ma. But…but he kissed me. Mind’—her manner reverted to its old style and her voice became louder as she added—‘it was just a splosher, and on the cheek. And of course, he’d knocked back two double whiskies. But’—her voice sank again and her eyes lowered to where her hands were joined on her lap, the fingers interplaying with each other nervously, as she ended—‘it was nice. It put the finishing touch to a wonderful Christmas.’ Her head now coming up, she looked towards Fiona and Bill, and it was as Bill said, ‘You’re a very kissable lass, Daisy,’ there came a groan from Katie. And now it was she who had the attention of them all, for her head was turned away and she was wiping her face hastily with her handkerchief. And when Daisy put her hand on her shoulder and tried to pull her round, as she said, ‘Oh, my! What’s got into you? Leave off. Good Lord! I shouldn’t have…’ Katie turned on her and said, ‘People like you, you know, Daisy Gallagher, should be put down at birth.’

  After a moment, Daisy said, ‘Oh, I know that. Yes, I know that.’

  ‘You’re a stirrer-up, that’s what you are. You never keep to one theme.’

  ‘Don’t I?’

  ‘No, you don’t. One minute you’re a clown and the next you’re a…Oh!’—she tossed her head—‘I’m going to make some more tea.’

  No-one spoke as she clattered the cups onto the tray and went out. Then Daisy said quietly, ‘I’ll have to be going. The bus leaves just after three.’

  ‘Well, let it go just after three.’ Bill got to his feet. ‘Stay and have a bite. It’ll be odds and ends as usual. That’s all we’ve lived on since Christmas Day.’

  ‘It isn’t odds and ends; there’s a leg of pork in the oven.’

  ‘Oh, pork! Oh, that’s all right then. I hope you’ve done the crackling so it’ll crackle. Nell’s the only one who can do that.’

  ‘Oh really!’ Fiona pulled away from him; then looking at Daisy, she said, ‘Do stay, Daisy, that’s if you’ve no other arrangements made.’

  ‘No, I haven’t any arrangements made, Mrs Bailey. And, aye, I’d like to stay, if it’s not putting you out.’

  ‘Oh, that old line, if it’s not putting you out. Of course you’re putting us out, that’s why we asked you.’

  ‘All right, Big Chief. Last word on the subject.’

  ‘You know something?’ Bill poked his face towards her, ‘I don’t put up with cheek like that from my own, in this house.’

  ‘Well, sir’—she now poked her face towards his—‘I always give people what they ask for, except when…me ma says no!’

  When Bill’s hand came playfully across the side of her head she fell for a moment against Willie, and Willie put his arm around her shoulder, saying, ‘He struck you, didn’t he? He struck you.’

  Making to leave the room, Fiona said, ‘Come on, Daisy, you can give Katie a hand setting the table. And you, Mr Bailey, can see to the hall and drawing-room fires. So, let’s all get moving.’

  When Daisy followed Fiona, Bill did not immediately leave the room, but bent towards the two boys and said, ‘That’s a miracle, if ever I’ve seen one. She could be a smasher, couldn’t she? Well, she is already. And to think she’s plastered her face and rigged herself out in that dreadful get-up, when all the time—’ He now straightened up and shook his head as he said, ‘Women are the weaker sex, you know; they don’t reason. She doesn’t know she’s an attractive piece even without that tongue of hers. But that’s definitely good measure.’

  It was Sammy, smiling now, who said to him, ‘But Mr X didn’t seem to mind the bum-freezer.’

  Bill now went out laughing, but at the door, he said over his shoulder, ‘Come on, you, Willie, and finish your job; we want some dry logs from the shed; that wet stuff’ll spit all over the place.’

  Willie did not immediately follow this command, but, looking at Sammy, he said, �
��I’ve known all along.’

  ‘What d’you mean, you’ve known all along?’

  ‘Well, about her being a spanker.’

  ‘Well, not the kind of spanker she looks now; nobody could have guessed.’

  ‘I did.’ The tone was arrogant.

  ‘Oh, second sight.’

  ‘No, first sight. I went for her first sight, the gear and everything.’

  ‘Look Willie,’ Sammy pulled himself somewhat painfully to the edge of the chair, and his voice was quiet as he said, ‘I think you want to get things straight in that quarter. She’s got Jimmy, you know.’

  ‘She hasn’t got Jimmy. Jimmy’s got her, but only like a brother would act towards her; he’s sort of looked after her.’

  ‘Well, why d’you think he’s looking after her? Not all out of charity. If you say you fell for her straight away and could see below her plastered surface, then he could have felt the same.’

  ‘He’s older than her.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be daft, man. Older…four, five, six years, what does it matter? Younger or older, when it hits you it doesn’t ask the age.’

  ‘What would you know about it, anyway?’ For the moment, Willie had forgotten that he was dealing with his friend who was far from well; and he went on, ‘You turn your nose up at girls. I think you’re frightened of them.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps I am. I’m afraid of them trying to hook me.’

  ‘Is that why you stick to our Katie?’

  The voice that answered this issued from no invalid, saying, ‘If I was meself, Willie Bailey, I’d knock you flat for that. I don’t stick to Katie; I like her company. It’s a relief from you and your tactless mouth.’ Of a sudden he lay back against the chair and gasped as if exhausted, and Willie, all contrite now, said, ‘Oh, man, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It is me mouth; I should keep it shut. I am sorry, I am. And I know you just took up with her because she was having a hard time after the Rupert “do”, when me da stopped speaking to her…’