The Bondage of Love

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘Oh, Sammy!’ Fiona was now standing with her hand across her brow, then looking at them both, she said, ‘Go on, both of you, get yourselves out. Go and tell Nell and Bert the glad news. Because it is glad news.’ She put her hands out to both of them, and as she did so, Katie said, ‘No, we won’t go to Nell’s, not straight away. We’ll go and join Willie at Daisy’s, because I want to laugh; if I don’t I’ll sit and howl.’

  ‘Well, get away.’ She pushed them now, then held on to Sammy’s arm for a moment, saying, ‘Oh, Sammy. When you come back, make it up with him, will you, please? Because he’s had enough through me.’

  ‘I’ll do that. Yes, I’ll do that.’

  As they went out, Mrs Vidler came from the open kitchen door, and she and Fiona stood looking at each other for a moment before Mrs Vidler said, ‘I’m sorry, my dear, but I heard it all. Imagine me being sorry for Bill; but I am, you know, especially over him rowing with Sammy, because he’s been his blue-eyed boy, hasn’t he, all these years?’

  ‘Yes, Mother, and he’s done so much for him. Oh, dear me!’

  ‘Don’t worry, dear. Like everything else, it’ll pass. But I must go up now and clear the debris, whatever it is. And that’ll give him a chance to come down and take it out on someone, because he won’t take it out on me. He’s so polite and kind to me, it’s unbelievable. And I…I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful. Anyway, here goes.’

  Fiona watched her mother go up the stairs, before she herself returned to the drawing room, there to await the avalanche that was now certain to come.

  The house had an unearthly feeling, with no movement or sound in it at all. She longed for the telephone to ring. Before returning to London, four days ago, following the long vacation, Mark had promised to ring her when he got there. But he hadn’t. Mark, she had found, only rang her when he wanted something. She wouldn’t admit to herself that her once beloved Mark was a disappointment to her; indeed over the past holiday his attitude towards the family had irritated her. From Willie to Katie he had scorned their activities. And she could count on one hand the times he had joined in an evening meal. He had seemed to live at the Featherstones and had accompanied them on holiday to France and Italy.

  Katie had a word to describe her brother but her mind rejected it. It was ‘insufferable’. Bill, she knew, would have another word for him and that would be ‘upstart’. But she hadn’t heard him voice it yet.

  Fiona had a desire to cry, but were she to indulge herself in this relief and Bill should happen to come in, he would call it female blackmail.

  She would wait no longer. She would go and prepare the evening meal.

  She was crossing the hall, when she glanced towards one of the long windows, and through the twilight she saw Bill crossing the drive in the direction of the woodland. He was walking slowly, his head down. She stood and watched him for a moment. He must have gone out the back way.

  She set the meal for two on the corner of the dining table. She laid out the cold meat from yesterday’s roast, put it on the middle of a large serving dish and surrounded it with salad. After putting this in the fridge, she mixed up a treacle sponge pudding and put it on the stove to boil. He always liked a boiled pudding after a cold meal, and he was particularly fond of treacle. Not that she hoped its sweetness would do anything to soften his temper tonight…

  By now, it was quite dark and she had switched on all the necessary lights in the house and had gone into the little sitting room. And there, after banking up the fire with logs, she sat in one of the two armchairs that flanked the fireplace. She chose the one where she would have her back to the door because she didn’t want to be met by his expression as he entered the room, calculating that by the time he was seated, and this would be after him taking a pipe from the rack to the side of the fireplace, filling it with shag and lighting it from the fire with a spill, she would be ready for whatever he had to throw at her.

  She picked up her magazine from the fender stool and began perusing it lightly. And after fifteen minutes she brought herself forward in the chair and almost exclaimed aloud, ‘Oh, he’s not going to keep this up, is he? He’s waiting for me to go and apologise and say, “All right. I’ll not do it. I’ll sit in this great empty house, for it will be empty, and wait for you coming in, tired and ready only for a meal, a bath, an hour’s work or so in your study, and bed. And in bed, you will likely know I am there.” But no. She reared up. She would do nothing of the kind. She would stand out for something she thought was just, as any reasonable man would consider just…But then, Bill wasn’t a reasonable man where she was concerned. She lay back in the chair and at that moment the door opened and she closed her eyes. She was aware he didn’t go to the pipe rack, but had immediately sat down opposite her and was looking directly at her.

  She opened her eyes now and met his gaze. He looked tired, worn. For the first time, she realised that he looked his age, a man in his fifties, not one who could be taken to be in his middle forties.

  ‘Well?’

  She didn’t answer the syllable.

  And now he asked outright, ‘Pleased with the day?’

  She forced herself to say, ‘Part of it. I was pleased to hear Katie’s and Sammy’s news.’

  ‘Oh, you were? Well, that was another surprise to me. A “Bog’s End” product and your daughter. Oh, we all know he’s got a veneer, but he’s still Sammy Love under the skin.’

  ‘I don’t consider that a bad thing, remembering his father.’

  ‘“Bog’s End” coming into its own at last. You’ll be telling me shortly that you are all for Willie’s association with Minnehaha. Although that one has started to dress differently, she won’t create a façade. Oh, no. So, what you going to do about her?’

  ‘I’m not concerned about her at the moment.’

  ‘Oh, you’re not? Well, doubtless you’ll get back to being concerned about her after you stop being concerned about us. By which time, you will have expected me to have given you my blessing to your education stunt.’

  ‘I never expected any blessing from you in that direction. But I did expect you to be fair and to see my side of it: the life I will lead in this house from tomorrow onwards.’

  ‘Many a woman would be damned glad to be in your place, and leading the life you talk about living in this house in the future, let me tell you.’

  ‘Well, let me tell you something, Mr Bailey. I am not any woman, I am myself, and I’m not damned glad to be mistress of this house at the present moment. And for that matter I will add something else: nor am I glad to be Mrs Bailey at this moment, at least not the Mrs Bailey I have come to know lately.’

  She saw the colour drain from his face. She saw his hands gripping each side of the armchair. She knew he was making a great effort at this moment to control his temper. And when he didn’t bawl, or even shout at her with his next words, she knew how far she had hurt him. And what he said was, ‘You knew the type of man you were marrying. As you are yourself, so am I. And now when we’re facing facts and the truth is out, I will tell you this much: you’ve always made me feel bloody inferior, and no man should feel inferior to a woman, especially his wife. I, as a man, feel inferior to no other man, no matter of what station, nor to any other woman but you, right from the word go. Not, mind, that I think you have brains above the average. Oh, no, that didn’t come into it. It was just something about you, that middle-class aura that clings to you and your tribe. It’s a false thing, and it isn’t worthy of notice, because it doesn’t come through lineage or breeding, and definitely not brains, but it’s there, created by money and superiority. Your mother’s got it, too. But funny, I don’t have the same feeling with her. The only emotion she once created in me was hate. But now we’re all pals together, and, oddly, I like her and I know she likes me. And it is not with the intention of putting any lightness on this matter when I say that I could have married her and you would have been my stepdaughter. What about that? But at the present moment I can’t see
the funny side of anything. I only know that you’re going to step away from me in a different direction.’

  He leant back in the chair now, and she was so shocked by his outburst and what had been in his mind all these years that she could find nothing to say. Then he began talking again, quietly now. ‘I’ve taken extra pride,’ he said, ‘in being known as “Bailey, the big fella”, builder and contractor, who swiped the biggest deals that this town has known in years, and who is a name to be reckoned with in the business world. Bill Bailey, who has men toadying to him for sub-contracts. Bill Bailey, who had been invited onto the council, but was big enough to refuse. Yes, he’s got a nice wife. She was a widow with three children when he took her. Then he adopted another, one of his men’s bairns. Then, you could say, he fostered a young fella from “Bog’s End”, a rough piece, and look at this young fella now, going to university the morrow. Oh, he’s done well, not only for himself, but for everybody connected with him, has “Big Bill Bailey”. And what do they know about “Big Bill Bailey”? Bugger all. They don’t know that he has an inferiority complex, as the degrading condition is so-called. And now his wife is determined to overwhelm him by it, and what he’ll hear in the future is, “Oh, his wife’s a different kettle of fish from him. Dragged by his shoelaces, he’s been, but she’s got degrees.”’

  He stopped speaking. And now she saw his eyes were tightly closed and his teeth were grinding one against the other, when he said, ‘Why have you made me appear so small, even to myself, that I have to talk like this to you? It proves I have reached bottom in self-estimation. And what you felt like, listening to me, I don’t know. But listening to myself has made me feel sick.’

  She could not suppress the groan; it was riven from the depths of her. And when the words, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Bill. I’m sorry. I didn’t know,’ spiralled from her throat and as she attempted to rise she was almost knocked back by the force of his body against hers. And there he was, kneeling at her side, his head on her lap and his arms about her. And she bent over him and held his head that lay against her.

  How long they remained in this emotional embrace, neither was aware. But, after some time, when she said, brokenly, ‘It’s all right, dear. It’s over. I…I won’t do it,’ this brought his head up, and the fact that his face was wet caused an agonising pain that seemed about to put her heart into a cramp. And when he said, ‘Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t give it up. No! You’re going on with it.’

  ‘Bill, its all right. I…’

  ‘It isn’t all right.’ Now he moved his body until his elbows were resting each side of her on the arms of the chair, and he gripped her hands as he said, ‘Don’t make me feel any worse than I am at this moment. You’re going to go through with it, even if I have to apply for it for you. Sammy threw something at me before I levelled the jug at him. It was about a man discovering a big diamond, only to find there was a flaw in it. And it would seem that everyone in this house, with the exception of Willie, has discovered a flaw in me today. But your mother’s been the kindest of them all, for all she said to me was, “Bill, that was such a nice jug. But then, what’s a jug?” Even the child became afraid of me and she took some pacifying. I think that was the last straw.’

  When he drooped his head, she shook the hands within hers, saying, ‘Bill, look at me. Look at me! All you have said isn’t news to me. I’ve always known how you have felt. Yet, at the same time, I wondered how such a big creature as you are, and in my mind you’re away above any man I know, or will ever know, could really hold such an idea in his head. And I’m hurt to the very soul of me by the fact that you would, even for a moment, think yourself in any way…in any way at all, inferior to me. And the reason I wanted to take up this course wasn’t only because I would have a lot of time on my hands in the future, it was because I know so little. My view of the world and everyone in it is so narrow, and I can never widen it by travel, because I don’t like travelling. So I could only turn to books. But I know so little about literature, so I felt I needed a guide in that way. I wanted to have an interest as you have in your work, designing, planning, arranging, always having something to look ahead to. In that world you are looked up to, adhered to, and it brings you satisfaction, I know it does. But I had nothing like that to look forward to, except my children coming back from university and, in the main, talking over my head. So, you see, dear’—she smiled wanly at him—‘we all have our inferiority complexes. But, oh, my darling,’ she now cupped his face with her hands, ‘the relief, the wonderful relief that it’s over, this awful feeling between us. I could never have believed that it could happen. Yet, in a way, I know now we’ll understand each other better.’

  He did not reply as she leant forward and pressed his lips gently to hers. And when she said, softly, ‘Let’s go upstairs and see Angela,’ he nodded at her. Then, getting to his feet, he said, ‘You go along, I’ll follow you. I’m—’ Then, half-shamefully, he added, ‘I must sluice my face.’ At this he took a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed his eyes as he muttered, ‘There’s a first time for everything, and I’ve proved it today. Yes. Yes, I’ve proved it today.’

  Two

  ‘Mam. What would you think if I asked Sep to dinner on Sunday? Tea would be too late, because Sammy and Katie will have to get back early in the evening and there would be no time to have a game or…’

  Fiona was busy at the kitchen table, preparing a fruit salad, and she stopped the process of peeling an orange and, looking across to where Willie was sitting, she said, ‘If you would like to explain who Sep is, and why you want him to dinner, and what game you want to play, then we can discuss it.’

  ‘Oh, Mam. It’s Sep Gallagher, Daisy’s brother. The one, you know, who works for Dad.’

  ‘Oh, Sep. And you want to ask Sep Gallagher to dinner?’

  ‘Well, yes. You see, we never have tea before about six o’clock…’

  ‘You’ve said all that. But you’ve never before expressed a wish to invite any of the Gallaghers to a meal, except Daisy.’

  ‘Oh! Well, I thought I might have mentioned it to you some time about Sep being an expert table-tennis player. We have a table, you know, Mam’—he thumbed over his shoulder—‘in the recreation room.’

  ‘Now, now, Willie Bailey…’

  ‘Well, Mam, it should happen that Sep has won the competition at the club. It’s been quite a big thing. He’s a wizard at it. He started at the club when he was a lad and then he dropped it when he was out of work. But since he’s had the job at Dad’s place, he’s picked it up again. And, as he said, just out of the blue he went in for the contest, and the champions from different clubs were also competing, and one after another were eliminated, leaving only him and the American still unbeaten. And I’d better explain who the American is. He is the son of an American who apparently came over during the last war. Well, he talks like a Yank; at least, I suppose, as some Yanks talk. Anyway, he was a crack player and Sep beat him and won the trophy. But, as Daisy said, the others in the house just made a joke of it, even his dad, although he was laughing as he said, “What’s the good of a silver cup if you only hold it for a year? Together with a free ticket to an international match of your choice, but not a penny to get you there.” So, I thought, Mam, it would be nice and it would make him feel that it was an honour—well, it really was, of a kind; and of course, it would please him and Daisy, if he could have a game with Sammy, because Sammy is hot stuff at it, you know.’

  Fiona looked down into her son’s face. He was a nice boy, was Willie. Thoughtful and kindly. Impetuous, oh yes: spoke without thinking at times. But when he did think it was nearly always about other people. And here he was, suggesting inviting another of the Gallaghers to a meal, just to make him feel good. So opposite to Mark; he was more like Sammy; they could have been brothers, those two.

  Thinking of Sammy for a moment she was so glad he was going to remain in the family, because he and Katie would always remain close to her and Bill. Oh, yes, and Bill. A
s yet, however, she couldn’t come to terms with accepting Daisy. But then, with regard to Daisy, Willie was tenacious. And it was odd, but during this last year, so Katie said, Daisy wasn’t pushing him off as she had done previously. It was as if she had changed her mind about him. But what she herself did know was that if she refused to accept Daisy, she would lose Willie.

  Still, Daisy was hard to accept, because in spite of all the change in her dress, she remained herself. In fact, she seemed determined to remain herself, and she would go out of her way to impress this attitude when she was in her company.

  ‘All right, Mam, if you’d rather not.’ Willie got up from the chair and was about to walk away when she said, ‘Wait a minute! Wait a minute! I…I wasn’t thinking about him, but about something else that’s on my mind. Yes. Yes, of course, invite him to dinner. But it’ll be the ordinary Sunday do, mind. And Nell and Bert will likely be here, and the children; then there’ll be Gran and Angela.’

  ‘Oh, he certainly won’t mind that. He’s used to a crush. They can hardly get round their table; they’re packed like sardines.’

  ‘Well, if he comes, that’ll be a round dozen here.’

  ‘Thanks, Mam.’

  Suddenly he went round the table and, putting his arms about her, he kissed her. Then, holding her at arm’s length, he said, ‘You know something? You’ve looked happier these last weeks than I’ve seen you for a long time. And you know something else? I’ve felt happier, too. There was a period when the house turned gloomy, didn’t it? But now we seem to be back like we were when Dad first came on the scene. Remember? Won’t you come home, Bill Bailey? Bill Bailey, won’t you please come home?’ he sang to her. ‘I look back, you know, on those days, as simply marvellous. There was Mr Bill always creating excitement, and Sammy, whom you couldn’t stand because he swore like a trooper; but you always gave us grand teas. And exciting things used to happen, didn’t they? Like Katie being kidnapped and Dad being nearly murdered; and Sammy’s father going to jail and Dad getting him out. Then Angela coming, and how she made us all love each other for a time. She did, an’ all, didn’t she?’ He nodded at her. ‘Then things got serious. Katie trying to brain Rupert and the girl, and Mr Davey dying. Life changed from his going. I suppose we were all growing up. But it isn’t life that changes, Mam, is it? It’s people. Mark, Katie and I, we’ve changed. Even Sammy has. But he’s like Daisy, in a way; he’ll always be himself underneath. People brought up as he and Daisy were are tough in some ways. Don’t you think so, Mam? They’re stronger somehow. And yet that isn’t the word.’