She could feel the force of the anger rising in him. It was like a heat emanating from him—but she urged herself to go on, so she said, ‘We’ve been married eleven years, Bill, and I have never crossed you in any way. And this desire of mine appears to me such a simple matter; however, simple or otherwise, I have made up my mind to carry it through, and so much so that I have already applied.’
As she watched his doubled hand tapping against the side of his thigh, she was fully aware that if he had been dealing with a woman of his own type, that hand would have come across her face. Bill Bailey was Bill Bailey. Slowly she turned from him and walked out of the room.
The sun was shining and dappling the ground where the trees thinned out towards the edge of the wood. When a light breeze brought down a small shower of leaves, Katie looked upwards, saying, ‘Who was it said;
I cry with each leaf that falls,
Although I love the drying of the year
And dance round the burning pyre
That was summer’s glorious array.’
‘I wouldn’t know…Well, who wrote it?’ asked Sammy.
‘I don’t know either. I just remember reading it somewhere, and it was brought back to mind when I saw those leaves falling.’
They reached the end of the wood, then stood looking across the low fence towards the open farmland. Then turning to Sammy, Katie said, ‘How do you feel about this being your last day; I mean, starting a new life? Because that’s what you’ll be doing tomorrow.’
And to this, Sammy answered, ‘I can’t explain it, except that I’m sad, and glad. I seem to have lived in this place all my life, been with the family all my life. That is the sad part, because after tomorrow, nothing will ever be the same again. Didn’t you feel like this when you went up last year?’
‘I suppose so; well, I was homesick for a time, and everyone seemed far away. And yet it was only twelve miles. But it will be different this time for you, because you will have’—and she did not say, me near you, but—‘one of the family already there.’
When she felt her hand caught and held, and saw the look on his face, she knew the moment had come for which she had been waiting…oh, yes, waiting. Even so, she put out her other hand and gently laid it on his lips, saying, ‘Let me say something first, something that’s been singing in my mind for a long time. I love you, Sammy, so very, very much.’
She watched him close his eyes tightly and bring his teeth down onto his lower lip and, for a horrifying moment, she thought, No, no! Have I imagined it? No. Oh no.
Then she was startled as his arm shot out and pulled her to him. Pressing her close, he muttered, ‘Oh, Katie! Katie. To hear you say that. I…I had hoped; and yet had thought because we were such pals that was as far as it would ever go. But I meant to tell you what is in my heart and I meant to do it today.’
Her eyes were moist as she gazed into his face so close to her own. The well-known face that was neither handsome nor plain, but was different. Her dad had once said that he had the ascetic look of a budding priest. Sammy had thrown a cushion at him, and had then put up his fists in a sparring attitude. But his face was different from any other boy’s or man’s she had seen. Likely it was because of her feeling for him. He had a longish face and the skin had a tinge of tan. His eyes were round, his eyebrows, like his hair, brown and thick. His nose was slightly wide at the nostrils, and his mouth, although not full-lipped, had shape to it, and would go very much out of line when he was annoyed. And the top lip seemed to aim to press the lower one down towards his straining chin. He always looked funny then, nicely funny, and he used to get mad at her when she laughed at him at such times. But it was a long time since he had been mad at her.
His voice was soft as he said, ‘At school, you were known as my girlfriend. We all had girlfriends and, as you know, a lot of snogging went on. But I used to think, here we were, real pals over the last four years, and we had never…we had never kissed.’
When their lips came together it was a tentative gesture until their arms tightened about each other. Then, such was the force of their embrace, they both fell against the tree that was to the side of them. Their lips parting, they lay against the support of the comforting oak and rested there, gazing at each other, until the breeze again brought another shower of leaves down onto the path. And as she watched them she laughed gently as she said, ‘I’ve never thought to feel like this in my life. Never. After that stupid and terrifying business with Rupert, followed by that year when Dad sent me to Coventry and never spoke to me unless he was obliged to, that was terrible. And I was so sure then that nothing nice or decent would ever happen to me. Then, the night your father was buried, you came and told me he had suggested you talk to me because I was lonely. Oh, that broke me up. For a long time after I used to cry every time I thought about it. But I think I started to love you on that day. And you will remember you took my hand, and we were going downstairs holding hands when we suddenly realised that if we went into the drawing room like that, all eyebrows would be raised in large question marks.’
Sammy laughed and said, ‘Oh, yes, I remember that. To me it was a red-letter day, that I could hold your hand while going downstairs. I think I began to hope then. Before that, I had given up hoping.’
‘What d’you mean, given up hoping?’
‘Well, you see, my first memory of you was sitting in your kitchen and experiencing a very odd sensation. It was a mixture of anger, a desire for retaliation, and something else which I couldn’t understand, because, you know, you were looking at me as if I was something the cat had brought in. In fact, your cat would have had more sense. That was your opinion, wasn’t it?’
Her shoulders shook with laughing now, as she said, ‘Oh, yes, it was. Yes. I couldn’t stand you. Mam was dead nuts on breaking up the association between you and Willie. And she had a good lieutenant in me. Every time I looked at you, or saw you coming, I said the two words to myself and with disdain, “Bog’s End”. Oh, I was a little bitch.’
‘Yes. Yes, you were. You know something? It’s amazing, but you’ve…you’ve lost all class-consciousness. You’re just like Willie in that way, and your dad. Not your mother. Oh, no, she’ll always be class-conscious. Yet I love her because she took the place of the mother I hardly knew, but missed all the time. But after that good turn I did for Mr B, she couldn’t do enough for me, could she? I wonder what she’ll say about us? D’you think they twig anything?’
‘No. No, I’m sure they don’t; we’re just pals. Well, that’s all we have been to all appearances, anyway. But they’ll welcome it. I know they will. Dad will…and Mam, too, because, you know, you are no longer “Bog’s End”, but someone she is very proud of. I heard her talking about you to Mrs Watson. It was when her son was sitting the exam for the Royal Grammar School. She was saying how wonderful it would be if her son got in there because Mr Willie and Mr Sammy were both brilliant. And Mam was kind enough…surprisingly kind, I considered at the time, to say that, well, they weren’t both alike: Mr Willie was what you would call a plodder, he would get there but he would have to work hard, whereas Mr Sammy was what was termed a flier.’
‘Flier?’ And Sammy laughed. ‘I had the real jitters in the last exam.’
‘Well, you didn’t show it; you never do. And you have never shown what you feel for me; you have never, Sammy Love, used your surname to put into words your feelings for me.’
‘Oh, Katie.’ Again she was tightly pressed close to him. ‘Do I have to? To say “I love you” wouldn’t suit my bill. The words are too prosaic. And yet when you said them they were so beautiful, so wondrous, so…’
‘Oh, Sammy, shut up! Just say, I love you, Katie. Go on, just say, I love you, Katie Bailey.’
His face straight now and his tone flat, he repeated, ‘I…I love you, Katie Bailey. I adore you, Katie Bailey. You are the most wonderful girl in the world to me, Katie Bailey. But I can explain my feelings better through the Bard.’
‘Damn the Bard.
I’d much rather hear the fella from Bog’s End now and again. Not always, mind’—she shook her head—‘but now and again. And over the last year he has fast disappeared; I’ve not heard you curse for months.’
‘Well, I’ve been practising self-control. You don’t want me to go up there, do you, and speak perfect Bog’s English. Mind, it isn’t that I wouldn’t like to, and who knows, if I get worked up I likely will some time. But in the meantime—’ he stopped and, cupping her face in his hands, he said very, very softly, ‘How long d’you think it’ll be before we can be married?’
‘Oh, Sammy, Sammy. I hate to think of it, but there’s another two years up there for me before I get my degree, and then another year in the teachers’ training department. And you, there’s a full three years for you. And you say you don’t want to go in for teaching, but into the commercial world. That means, in both cases, it’s three years at least before we can do anything.’ She drew her head back from him now and looked down the avenue between the trees. She kept her gaze directed on it as she said, ‘Unless we decide on anything else.’
She waited for an answer or a comment, and when none came she turned and looked at him again. What he said was, and slowly, ‘Yes, we could do that. We could set up somewhere; that is if both of us had money, which we haven’t; and what is more important still, we could do it tomorrow. But two of the best people we’ll ever know in our lives would be shocked. Your mother might accept it as being commonplace today, but not Mr Bill. Funny that, isn’t it? But I know deep down in me that this is true. He would see me as the leader in this business and despise me ever more for bringing what he would call disgrace on his daughter. He wouldn’t consider that half the population, at least those over sixteen, are shacking up today; no, he would be blind to all that, and you know it, don’t you?’
Again Katie looked along the path and her voice was low and slightly weary as she said, ‘Yes. Yes, I know it. But I’ll say this in our defence, in defence of all those whom we’ve mentioned, we’ve only got one life. It’s a very commonplace saying, but the youth of today know it to be true; so many things have happened to point it out to them. Anyway, half the parents don’t deserve consideration. But, like ours, when they do, you’d like to say to them, “But you’ve done what you wanted to do. You’ve gone your way and you’re happy together. You’re enjoying your lives. But anything could happen to us tomorrow, never mind in three years time,” although we wouldn’t say that, would we?’
He kicked the trunk of the tree with his heel and let out a slow breath before he said, ‘No, we wouldn’t say that. But to pick up what you said just a minute ago; that they’re happy. They always have been, but lately I’ve thought that your mam might be worrying about something. She’s been very quiet. I thought it was, perhaps because of Nell having another. But she’s got used to that.’
She was looking at him again as she said, ‘You…you think there’s something wrong? I’ve noticed too that she’s quiet at times. But then she always has been like that. Her broody periods, she used to call them. Some time ago when I asked her if there was anything wrong, if she had a pain, she said she was just going through one of her broody periods. Like the hens, they stop cackling and she stops talking for a time.’
He smiled widely now, saying, ‘It would be nice if all women had broody periods.’
‘Oh, are you telling me I must adopt broody periods?’
‘Yes, just that, woman.’
She had her arms around his neck now and her body pressed back from him, and she was laughing as she said, ‘I like that; to be called woman. I’ll be twenty next year, then you can say I’m a woman, I suppose. Funny, I’m more than a year older than you, but I’ve always thought that you were, oh, years older than me.’
‘I am. Oh, yes, I am in all ways: in worldly affairs, work capability and, of course, women.’
Now she was shaking him …
They remained locked together against the trees for some minutes more. It was then that she said, ‘D’you think we should go and tell them?’
‘Yes. Yes, I suppose so.’
They walked between the trees with their arms around each other, and it was when they were clear of the wood and were entering the cultivated garden, she stopped and said, ‘You saying about Mam being quiet. Now that I come to think about it, last weekend, just after Willie and Daisy left, I heard them; I mean, Mam and Dad in the drawing room. I thought they were going at it in some way, so I didn’t go in. But I wondered if it was over Daisy, because, you know, although she’s decently dressed now, she’s still Daisy. Of course, Dad thinks the world of her, he really does, but not so Mam. Oh, she likes her, but I’m sure she can’t see her as a daughter-in-law. The fact is, I would like her as a sister-in-law; she’s real good fun, with no pretence about her. She wouldn’t know how. And I won’t ask your opinion of her. D’you know something? At one time she was sweet on you.’
‘No!’
‘Yes, she was.’
‘Oh, I wish I had known, I’d have done something about it. She would have been a comfort.’
‘Look out where you’re pushing me; I’ve stood on that azalea. My, my! Arthur will have my guts for garters if he finds out. Funny about gardeners. As Dad says, they always imagine they own the gardens they work in.’
Within sight of the house they glanced at each other, joined hands, then began to run. In the hall, they stopped and leant against each other for a moment before crossing the hall and thrusting open the drawing-room door. Then just within the room they halted, and Sammy, raising his hand and pulling up Katie’s with it, exclaimed loudly, ‘Hail! Behold! We are the bearers of news.’
Bill had been leaning back in the corner of the couch, a newspaper across his knee. It was evident he had been dozing. But Fiona was at a side table pouring out tea into a second cup. And she turned, the teapot in her hand, and gazed at them. Then, after putting it down with somewhat of a clatter, she looked towards Bill. He had now pulled himself to the edge of the couch, and he blinked and peered towards them as he said, ‘Aye, aye. What’s this?’
‘I think you’d better have a cup of tea, both of you.’ Katie now tugged her hand from Sammy’s and went towards Fiona, saying, ‘Here, go and sit down, I’ll bring it to you.’
Fiona did not speak, but just stared at the pair of them, before going to the couch to sit down, but not close beside Bill, as was her wont. And when Katie, following her, handed her a cup of tea, then one to Bill, he pointed to a little table and said, ‘Put it down there.’ Then he added, ‘What’s all this in aid of? Practising for something?’
‘You could say that, Mr B. Yes, you could say that.’ Sammy was looking straight at Bill now. ‘I’ll put it this way.’ He now turned to Fiona and in a softer voice, he added, ‘We hope it’s the first step towards getting married.’
‘Good God!’ the exclamation spoke of Bill’s astonishment. And now he added, ‘Well, you two? I thought you were pals, just pals.’
‘Not on my part, Mr B, not for a long, long time.’
And now Katie, taking a step closer to Sammy, said, ‘Nor mine, Dad. It would appear we’ve both been holding back from each other while all the time knowing how we felt.’ Then, looking at Fiona, she said, ‘Well, say something, Mam.’
‘I…I just don’t know what to say. Once or twice I’ve wondered a little…well, about you, Sammy, and your feelings. But I suppose my mind has mostly been concerned with…well, I must admit, Willie’s affections. Willie’s the kind of person who must always glue himself on to someone. It was you for years, and now it’s Daisy.’
‘And you don’t like that, do you?’ Bill did not look at Fiona as he said this, but he turned and picked up the cup of tea from the table and drank half of it, before replacing the cup. And now he did look at her and say, ‘You didn’t, did you? And you don’t.’
‘What I feel about it is entirely my business, just as what you feel about it is yours.’
Both Katie and Sammy experienced the c
hill that was between these two lovely people, as they both thought of them. But whatever it was that had caused it, it was lessening any surprise at their news and, apparently, any opposition to the word marriage.
Sammy now said to Fiona, ‘She’s a good girl, Mrs B. She only needs a little polish.’
‘She needs nothing of the sort,’ Bill’s voice had a snapping edge to it. ‘She’s all right as she is, and if she suits Willie she has no-one else to suit. But about you two. Well, all I can say is, it’s a surprise, but a glad one. Yet, at the same time, if you want to do the thing properly, it’s going to be a while before you can really talk of getting married. Have you thought of that?’
‘Yes. Yes.’ They both nodded at him, but Katie added, ‘We’ve been into that.’ Then on a laugh she added, ‘But, of course, Dad, if Mam and you are agreeable, we could, well, we could shack up.’
‘Shut up! I don’t want to hear any such talk. You’ll shack up, as you call it, when you have a proper house to go to and a wage coming in to support it.’
Sammy’s voice now was almost as rough as Bill’s as he said, ‘You’ve got no need to press that point, sir. We’ve been into it and into the pros and cons. And we’re not asking anyone for anything or looking for handouts. What we’re going to do, we’ll do it off our own bats. But let me put it this way; if we did feel like shacking up, nobody could stop us now, could they?’
‘Sammy.’ There was a plea in Fiona’s voice, and he turned his head towards her but bowed it, muttering, ‘Don’t worry. I’m sorry.’
‘You’ve got no need to be sorry. No need whatever.’
Fiona did not glance towards Bill, but her further words spoke for her as she said to Sammy quietly, ‘Go and fill the teapot up again for us, and bring in a couple of cups.’
The Bondage of Love Page 27
