The Bondage of Love

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘Look here! I want…’

  It was almost a scream she let out as she stuck her head through the window now and cried, ‘Shut up! For God’s sake! Dad, shut up and let me get home! You can do all the shouting you like then. Just drive me home.’

  When Fiona left her seat, she opened the back door of the car and pressed Katie in. Then, when she herself sat down, she said quietly to Bill, ‘Get us home.’

  He said nothing, but started the car with a jerk, and almost at the same time Katie turned and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and began to sob uncontrollably.

  Katie’s crying did not stop when they arrived home. It did not stop until the doctor, two hours later, gave her a sedative, declaring she was suffering from delayed shock. And it was more than twenty-four hours later when, once again seated downstairs, she related all that had transpired. And when she was held in Bill’s arms, he, too, brokenly related what had transpired since she had been asleep. It was to do with a meeting with George Ferndale, and the punishment the man intended to mete out to his son.

  Two

  Vague rumours were fleeting through the town. One concerned the big contractor’s daughter: that she had been raped and had turned up at a barrister’s house early one morning.

  What was known for certain was that the barrister’s son was to start work in the court offices, in a position no better than a tea boy’s. It had been assumed he would have been off to university, but the fellow had not had enough guts to refuse.

  Yes, there must be something in the rumour. Somebody’s palm must have been well oiled to keep quiet about it. That’s how things were worked these days, in all ways. You could get away with murder, if you had enough cash.

  Funny, too, it should be that man Bailey’s family again. Not so long ago there had been that drug business, in which one of the family had also been concerned …

  Oh, what did it matter after all? The trains were still running, there was water in the mains, and nobody yet had thought of cutting off the town’s electricity. Although, when one of the bright lads found out a way to shin up the pole to those wires without being electrocuted, undoubtedly they would have a shot at it. And you only owed four hundred and sixty-five pounds in back rent. So why worry? All they could do was put you out, then find you another place where you could start all over again.

  So was Daisy’s opinion of rumour and the condition of the country. And when her father shoved her so hard that she fell against the chest of drawers, she cried at him, ‘Don’t you start knocking me about, Len Gallagher. I’m not your wife, I’m only the result of a skinful of beer.’

  ‘Our Daisy!’

  ‘Yes, our Ma. Well, you said so yourself, and I remember the time you said it an’ all. You were laying on to me bare backside and you said that I showed fear for neither God nor man. And it was all because of him,’ she thumbed towards her father, ‘because he came in roaring that night, full up to the gunnels. And you always said he had fear of neither God nor man when he was in drink. Well, he’s passed it on.’

  She cast a laughing glance at Len now and he shook his head slowly at her, saying, ‘By God! I did an’ all; and we’ve all had to pay for it since.’

  ‘What’s brought you home at dinner time, lass?’ Annie now pushed a mug of tea towards Daisy, where she was sitting at the corner of the table close to her father’s chair. ‘Well, it’s about the only time I guessed that the house would be empty except for you two,’ Daisy replied. She looked down into the mug of tea before she explained quietly, ‘I want to ask you something, both of you, and it’s serious.’

  She had their attention now; they were both staring at her. And when she didn’t go on, Annie pulled a chair from under the table and sat down; and she said, ‘What is it, lass? Something worrying you?’

  ‘Yes, you could say that, Ma.’ Daisy nodded towards her mother. ‘Yet, it’s all cut and dried in my mind; it was just that I wanted to know what you think about it.’

  ‘You’re not thinking of leaving home, are you?’ It was almost a growl from Len, and Daisy, looking at him, said, ‘Not for a while, anyway, Da, and not in the way you mean. No.’

  ‘Then, what is it?’

  She now looked from one to the other, then said, ‘If you fell for somebody, you know what I mean, and…and you knew he didn’t want you, never would in that way ’cos he had somebody else in his eye, would you think it a good thing to take second best?’

  She watched her parents exchange glances. It was her father who answered, ‘That, in a way, is a tough question to answer, lass, but as it happens, I can answer it from personal experience.’ Now he had turned his gaze fully on his wife as he said, ‘Isn’t that so, Annie?’

  Annie did not answer, but she lifted up her mug and took a long drink of tea. Then, looking at Len again, she said, ‘Well, go on with your tale.’

  He turned back to Daisy, saying, ‘I was knocked for six when I was let down by someone I thought I couldn’t live without. I was a young fella, and the day she married another bloke I got drunk. I’d hardly touched it afore; it didn’t appeal to me. All I could think of in those days was saving money to make a home fit for a bride. Huh! Well, I went on the razzle. Then I met’—he now jerked his head sideways—‘her. She was a shoulder to cry on. I liked her, but I didn’t love her.’ He now turned and his look was soft on the bowed head. ‘But I wasn’t married to her long before I knew her value. I also knew if I had got the other one, I couldn’t have put up with her five minutes. By that time, she was already leading the other fella a life of it. He was working time and a half to keep her in clothes. And they parted within two years. I was working in the yard then. When I went into the actual foundry the thirst, at times, got the better of me. And so I’d get a skinful and I’d raise hell. Yet, in between times, in my sober senses I knew that the second best, as you would call it, was the best thing that had happened to me.’ He now put his hand out and took one of the hands that were clinging to the mug and, laying it on the table, he patted it as he said, ‘I’ve never been any use with words, except swear ones, but she knows what I mean.’ He was nodding at Daisy the while, and he finished, ‘Life works things out for you if you let it. So, have you got your answer?’

  ‘Aye, Da, in a way, that is.’

  Her mother was looking at her now, saying, ‘Who’s let you down, lass?’

  ‘Oh, nobody, Ma. Nobody’s let me down. I’ve let meself down. He’s never been other than pally, and I saw the red light ages ago, but wouldn’t take any notice. But, in his own way, he swung the lantern in me face, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘Who’s he, lass?’

  She lowered her lids before she said, ‘Sammy.’

  ‘Sammy Love?’

  ‘Yes, Da, Sammy Love. I only know one Sammy.’

  ‘Well, all I can say, lass, is, he’s a blasted fool. He must be swinging the red light before his own eyes.’

  ‘No, Da. No.’

  ‘Has he got somebody else?’

  She looked at her mother. ‘Yes, and always has had, I think.’

  ‘Well, I’ve got no need to ask who your second choice is.’

  ‘Haven’t you, Da?’

  ‘No, it’s that Willie, isn’t it?’

  Daisy gave a short laugh as she said, ‘No, it isn’t that Willie, Da, although he would like it to be. And sometimes, in a way, I wish it was, ’cos he’s got spunk. Well, I mean, he was never afraid to be seen with me in me rig, and he’s a nice lad. But I’m not daft or blind, and if I did like him that way, I know there would be opposition. Not from the big fella, or Katie, or Sammy, but as nice as his lady ma is, I don’t think she can see me as a daughter-in-law. And then there’s his big brother, the one that’s in London learning to be a doctor. Oh, he was snuff up your nose, if anyone was. He used to look at me as if I was a cabbage snail and should be trodden on.’

  ‘The bugger; he did?’

  ‘Yes, Da, the bugger; he did. And many a time I wanted to give him a mouthful. I d
on’t know who he takes after in that family. Of course’—she laughed now—‘Big Chief Running Buffalo isn’t his da, else I think he’d have had the upstart knocked out of him afore now. But stepfathers have to watch their step; at least that’s what I think.’

  ‘Who’s your second choice, lass?’

  The question was quiet and she looked at her mother and answered as quietly, ‘Jimmy.’

  When they both said together, ‘Jimmy?’ She nodded from one to the other, saying, ‘Yes, Da, that’s what I said, Jimmy.’

  ‘Is that why you brought him here this last twice or so?’

  ‘Aye, in a way, Ma, so you could pass an opinion. It would just be a surface one because you don’t know him, only what I’ve told you about him. But he was the one that pulled me up and stopped me being daft that long while ago.’

  ‘Does he feel for you?’

  ‘I don’t really know, Da. Well, yes, he does in a way, because he’s always seemed to look after me in the club and that. And I’ve laughingly called him my minder.’

  ‘How d’you really feel about him?’

  ‘Oh, I like him. I’ve always liked him, and if there was any second best, well, he could be it.’

  ‘Why must there be a second best, lass? Why can’t you wait?’ Annie was shaking her head slowly at her daughter, and at this Daisy said, ‘There’s a reason, Ma, and you would say I wasn’t doing things for the right reason. But, if Sammy waved a red lamp at me, I feel this is the only way I can wave a red lamp at Willie, else there’ll be a showdown shortly and it won’t be pleasant. It might mean that I’ll have to break, well, sort of cut off from the family, and I like them. But if I could show him I was really going with somebody else, well, it might dampen him down.’

  ‘Oh, lass! Oh, lass!’ Len’s head was bowed now and he was shaking it slowly. ‘I thought you’d have more sense than to play that game. And,’ he now wagged a finger at her, ‘I’m telling you this. From what little I’ve seen of this Jimmy, and how he talked when he was here, he was trying to put it over that he had kept an eye on you for years and would still continue to do so. And to my mind, if he had any feelings for you other than that of, as you call it, a minder, you would have known about it before now, because…how old is he? Twenty-one?’

  ‘Twenty-three,’ Annie put in.

  ‘He’s not, Ma, he’s not twenty-three.’

  ‘He is, lass.’ Annie let out a long-drawn sigh before she added, ‘And up to a few months ago, he was living with a woman in Pilot Road.’

  Daisy’s chair almost toppled backwards onto the floor as she sprang up, crying, ‘He wasn’t! He’s never lived with any woman. Who told you that?’

  ‘Mrs Anderson, from two doors down. I know she’s a gossip, but there she was in the supermarket and she said, “I see that Daisy’s taken up with Jimmy Redding. He’s a nice lad. I knew his people when they lived in Dene Street. They were a bit cut up when he went to live with that piece in Pilot Road. But now he’s back at home again, I see.” You like him that much, lass?’

  ‘No. No. But the fact that he’s been living with a woman and I didn’t know.’

  ‘What you talking about?’ It was her mother speaking now and harshly. ‘Why should you have known? Except that he was lodging there. And he’s a young man. It’s his life, and everybody’s living with somebody else now, and they don’t wait until they’re twenty-three. By that I don’t mean…or that kind of man is for you. No, I don’t! You’re young and clean and…Oh!’ She tossed her head now and walked towards the sink, and as she clashed the crockery into it, Daisy said, ‘I’m…I’m not gone on him in that way, but I never thought he was that sort.’

  ‘Look here, girl!’ Len’s finger was wagging at her again. ‘You were going to make him a second-best choice, and you made no bones about it. Now I’ll tell you something. What impression he has given you and others at the Centre, to me is much more underhand than him going to live with a woman, because it’s calculated. In our case’—he pointed to Annie—‘there was nowt calculated; it just happened. But you’re working things out aforehand, going to have them your way, and the man has to fit in. Oh, lass, I’m surprised at you, I really am. Well, you came home to ask our advice and mine is; don’t go in for your second choice, ’cos if he’s had one affair like that, he could have another. And it’s his life, so who’s to blame him? And as far as I can see he’s done nothing wrong to you, only looked after you and stopped you being a young tearaway years ago. ’Cos that’s what you were.’

  ‘Thank you very much, Da. Thank you very much.’ She now went and grabbed up her coat from the settee. It wasn’t the Aquascutum with the fur collar, but it was a warm-looking coat of reasonable length, one which had come from her private source. Then, she rammed her woollen hat on her head before making for the door. But there, her mother stood blocking her way, and quietly she entreated, ‘Don’t be mad, lass. Your da’s right, and’—she now put out her hand and pushed an errant piece of hair under the woollen hat—‘you’re much too bonny to throw yourself away on second best. Wait a while; think it over in that cute mind of yours, and it will straighten things out for you.’ Then, looking into the brown eyes that were expressing deep hurt, and as if applying a salve to the hurt, she said, ‘I’m making a big pot pie for dinner the night and a spotted dick for afters, and’—she now added more salve—‘if you wouldn’t mind taking me with you to your shop the morrow, ’cos I’m almost threadbare in lots of ways, I’d be grateful.’

  ‘Oh, Ma!’

  The two words spoke volumes, untranslatable to anyone other than their two selves and the man who stood watching them. Then Daisy went out.

  PART THREE

  One

  ‘I’m lonely, Bill, and I’m going to be more so. Katie’s ensconced in Durham, has been this past year, and whereas Sammy could have chosen Newcastle University, he plumps for Durham, too. So by October who will I have left? I’ll have Willie for another year, then he’ll be off.’

  ‘You’ve still got a daughter.’ Bill’s voice was cold.

  ‘Yes, I still have a daughter. But am I now to tell my mother I don’t need her to come here every day to see to Angela? You don’t understand, Bill, how much she has come to mean to Mother. The child has given her an aim in life, a meaning, and the love she showers on her is reciprocated. I…I feel jealous at times. Yet, in a way, I am glad for them both, because, as you know, Angela needs company all the time. She must be with someone. Nell used to take a turn with her, but now her time is taken up with her own son. It’s understandable she can’t keep running backwards and forwards here every day.’

  ‘And you’re too busy yourself to see to her?’

  ‘Don’t speak to me like that, Bill. You’re inferring what you’re afraid to say. I love the child, Bill; I love her dearly. You come in at five, six or seven at night and make straight for her and give her half an hour. Then you have a bath and your meal, and five nights out of six you settle in the study with your papers. Oh, yes, you want me to be with you and sit there. And what will I do? Knit, crochet or wait for you to throw me a word or two, and ask me how my day has gone.’

  ‘Ah, now, hold your hand a minute. Hold your hand a minute, woman.’

  ‘And please don’t call me woman. You know I don’t like it.’

  ‘All right, lady. Well, take your mind back. It’s only a few days ago that I asked if you’d like to go out to dinner, and what did you say?’

  ‘I said no, because you asked me while sitting in that chair there’—she pointed to a deep armchair to the side of the couch on which he was sitting—‘And you were stretched out and yawning. And when I said no, I didn’t want to go, you got yourself a drink, settled down again and dozed off.’

  ‘Oh, I’m terribly sorry, really I am; I shouldn’t be tired, the easy life I’ve got.’

  ‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Bill.’

  A pained silence fell on the room. Then in a low voice she said, ‘It’s now more than a year since I dared to men
tion that I would like to take up a career. And I was informed, in no small voice, that you were my career. Well, I’ve worked at it, but I am still left with a gaping loneliness in me. I love you. I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried, but what do I see of you? You’re out of the house every morning before nine; you don’t come home to lunch; you sometimes phone me, not so often as of yore, but sometimes. And then there’s your routine of the evening. Except for the weekend, and even then, I’ve known you to spend the whole of Saturday morning in the office. As for Sunday, you keep out of the way mostly, as one or other have their friends here. The only time, I may say, when you willingly show your face is when Daisy comes, because you like to banter with her. But up till now I fill my time with the family, seeing to food, seeing to their clothes, and, when Mrs Watson has been off, doing the chores. But now, since my family is going to be greatly depleted come the end of September, I can see myself passing the time answering phone calls, preparing our meal in the evening and, for a break, taking a run over to see how Nell’s faring. Well, all that won’t fill the gap, Bill. So, whether it vexes you or pleases you, I have made a decision.’

  His head jerked towards her, the look in his eyes hard, his mouth a tight line, and he waited. And she, looking him straight in the face, said, ‘I’m going to take a course at the Open University. I’m going to try for a degree.’ She watched the pink flush on his face deepen. She watched his Adam’s apple jerk up and down in his throat. Then, she watched his mouth open twice before he said through gritted teeth, ‘You wouldn’t like to go to college with the others, would you?’

  And when she dared to answer him fearlessly, saying, ‘Yes. Yes, I would love to do that, Bill. It was a chance I missed in my youth and I would simply love it, and people of my age are doing it every day. But I have a home to see to, and a daughter.’ She stressed the word. ‘Moreover, I would like to be here when different members of my family might need me, if ever they do.’