‘I have; and I really don’t believe that Michael makes sixteen pounds a week, do you?’
‘Oh yes, they can make that at the pits now doing overtime. And I shouldn’t be surprised that he reaches twenty when he gets to the face. Coal is like gold now. And long may it last for them, they’ve had it rough long enough.’
‘I’d hate to marry a pitman.’ Kathleen was sauntering to the door as Sarah said, ‘Well, don’t.’
‘I won’t.’ And once again they looked at each other and once again they laughed.
‘I won’t stay long,’ said Kathleen.
‘There’s no need to hurry. If Paul comes over I’ll come up and knock for you.’
‘You will?’ Kathleen’s face brightened. ‘OK. Bye-bye.’
‘Bye-bye, my dear.’
Paul, Paul, Paul; Paul all the time, waking and sleeping. Would she change? She was only sixteen, she might. But no, Sarah shook her head at the thought. She was held fast. Although Paul did not look like his father, there emanated from him the same virile attraction. No, Kathleen wouldn’t change. She prayed to God she wouldn’t, anyway, because if she did, well then…Sarah’s hands became quiet on the board and she looked at the wall opposite. All her efforts, all her self-denial, all her trying to do the right thing would have been in vain, wouldn’t it? Still staring at the wall, she saw there the day of her choice. It happened six months ago in this very kitchen. John had been out of the Air Force for eighteen months then and was doing well in his wireless business. That’s how he had started, talking about the shop. ‘I’m on to something here, Sarah,’ he had said. ‘You’d never believe the money that’s in it. Joe’s opening another shop in Wallsend and I’m going to keep on with the Newcastle one and see to the workshops. And if we can get a likely enough fellow we’ll open one down here in Shields. Everybody is wireless mad. And you know another thing that’s going to boom…television. I bet you a shilling before ten years is out everybody’ll have a television in their own house.’
‘Television? Just what is television?’
‘The pictures, that’s what it is, the pictures.’
‘And in your own house?’ She had laughed as one would at a tall story.
He had shaken his head solemnly at her. ‘It’s a fact, Sarah. Fellows have been working on this long before the war and now they’re getting pictures from London. I’m telling you, it’s no fairy tale. And we’re in on the ground floor, Joe and me.’ He had looked away from her at this point and said, ‘That’s one good thing that came out of the Air Force anyway, Joe and me stuck in that godforsaken hole planning what we’d do together after the war. Joe was to do the talking and the buying, and I was to do the making, wirelesses and that, and see to the production end. And that’s how it has worked out. When I think of those years on the dole…years…my God, it was an eternity! I can’t believe this is really happening to us…I’ve bought a car, Sarah.’
‘A car?’ Her eyes screwed up at him.
‘Yes, a dandy. I got it as a snip. It’s second-hand, but it was lying up all through the war. A 1938 Rover, a beautiful job, like a Rolls-Royce, it is, honest.’
‘Oh, John.’ She had looked at him softly and smiled. She was pleased for him. Success would ease the turbulence in him, part of it at any rate.
He had said then, ‘I made plans at the end of the war, Sarah, not only with Joe, with meself. I said, I’ll make money, real money, and then I’ll buy me out, so to speak, and I’ll do what I’ve longed to do for years.’
Her body had become stiff rigid, but she had remained silent as he went on, ‘I’ve had enough, a bellyful if anyone has. I’m not God’s gift to woman, I know. Oh, I know, nobody better, but that’s over. I’ve got money now and I’ll have a hell of a lot more before I’ve finished. But I’m determined on one thing…May’s not going to wallow in it. No, by God, I’ll see to that. I’d rather give it to all the whores in the town.’
She had exclaimed aloud at this and he had cut in abruptly saying, ‘You don’t know what it’s been like, Sarah. She’s me mother all over, only in a different way. A damned sight worse if you ask me. No, I’ve made up me mind.’
She had said at this point, in a voice she could scarcely hear herself, ‘Aren’t you forgetting about Paul?’
‘No, I’m not!’ he had barked back at her. ‘Paul will know where he’s going in a few months’ time. He’ll have to do his National Service, anyway, and once he leaves the house he’ll be on his own and my life sentence’ll be finished.’
She had looked at him then and stated flatly, ‘Paul is in love with Kathleen and she with him.’
His mouth had dropped open and he had gaped at her; for a full minute he had gaped at her before he said, ‘But they’re just kids; they’ve been brought up together.’
‘It’s more than that, at least I think so. Anyway, I’ll have to wait and see.’
He had taken a step towards her, crying, ‘Look, Sarah!’ but with her outstretched hand she had stopped him. She had not touched him, she had just put her arm out towards him, her hand raised vertically.
‘I’m waiting,’ she said. ‘Kathleen is the only thing that matters to me, you’ve got to know that.’
‘I do know it, but I’m willing to take a chance, I’m willing to take what’s left.’
She had her head bowed on her chest when she murmured, ‘There’s time enough for that.’
Again he looked at her for a long, long moment, and then characteristically he spoke the truth. ‘There might be for you, but not for me. I’m at the end of my tether, Sarah. I’m made that way…There’s got to be somebody…For years and years I’ve wanted it to be you.’
‘I cannot help you,’ she said. Her head was still lowered.
At this he had turned and walked out. It had all been comparatively quiet and orderly, the arranging of their future lives.
Sarah brought her attention back to the table. She gathered the scraps of pastry up, pressed them together, then rolled them out. As she lined an oven plate she saw Dan come in from the back lane and her face brightened.
When he entered the kitchen he sniffed, saying, ‘Coo! That smells good. What is it?’
‘Oh, just odds and ends; they’re always hungry.’
‘They are? You mean Paul. If you were to be paid for all the food he’s eaten here you’d have a tidy sum.’
‘Oh, that.’ She gave an impatient toss of her head. ‘I’ve got to bake, anyway. She can tuck it away like a young horse an’ all.’
‘By! It’s hot.’
‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
‘No, no, I won’t be staying a minute.’ Yet as he spoke he sat down by the side of the table.
Sarah looked at him. ‘But it’s Wednesday; you’re off, aren’t you?’
‘The shop’s closed.’ He nodded at her. ‘I’m off that far, but I’m going up again; the old lady wants some rooms turned round.’ He bounced his head. ‘She’s got an idea, and she’s working on it. She thinks I can’t see it…She wants me to go and live up there.’
‘Really!’
‘Aye. She’s lonely since the old man went. I’ve known this has been coming for some time, and’—he wagged his finger at Sarah—‘it wouldn’t be a bad thing, it wouldn’t at that, for she’s a dear old soul. I’m more than a bit fond of her, and, as she says, the place’ll be mine some time…You know.’ He rested his elbow on the table and pushed against a glass bottle lying on its side, and Sarah exclaimed quickly, ‘Look, you’ll get flour all over you.’ As she lifted the bottle out of his way, he said, ‘That’s a cute idea, using a bottle for a rolling pin. Where’d you find that?’
‘Oh, in a magazine. It works an’ all. You fill it with cold water and it helps to keep the pastry firm.’
‘Well, well, I wonder what next. But as I was saying. You know, Sarah, there’s kind people in the world, and those two have been pure gold to me, and not a drop of blood between us. Strangers can be kinder than your own, don’t you think?’ He did not
wait for her to comment on this but went on, ‘I did meself a good turn the day I put that four hundred into the business; they’ve paid me back a thousandfold…Well, not quite,’ he laughed. ‘But you know what I mean. And now this changing round of rooms. There’s six of them, you know, fine big ones at that, and well furnished. Oh, aye, they’ve got some nice pieces, and she’s been on about making two flats of it for some time now. She keeps saying two people could live here amicably and not get in each other’s hair…Poor old soul! I’ve known what she’s been driving at, but I’ve never let on. You see, it’s going to be difficult, I mean leaving next door.’
‘Yes.’ Sarah nodded down at him. ‘That is going to be difficult. I don’t think you should do it, Dan; she would be lonely without you.’
Dan stared at her for a moment before saying, ‘You know, you’re a remarkable woman, Sarah. I’ve always thought that.’
‘Oh, don’t make game, Dan. Remarkable, huh! I know just how remarkable I am.’ She was nodding her head slowly at him.
‘I’m not making game, not on this matter, I’m not. I know what I think. Here you are trying to persuade me not to leave her because you think she would be lonely. She’s got Stan, she’s got John and May across the way, she’s got two grandchildren, and you say she’ll be lonely. After the way she’s treated you, you can still feel sorry for her.’
‘She’s not a happy woman…inside. That’s what I mean. And unhappy people are lonely. We are all lonely in a way, but unhappy people are more lonely.’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right there. But there’s another thing against it, but I suppose you wouldn’t notice. I wouldn’t be able to pop in here every day.’
‘Oh, I’d notice that all right, Dan.’ She stood with her hands resting on the table, her body leaning towards him. ‘I just don’t know what I would have done without you, Dan. I’ve…I’ve never said this before, but I think that at the beginning I would have gone clean off my head, really off my head, if it hadn’t been for you. Oh, I know what it would be like if you stopped popping in.’
Dan stared at her, his eyes holding no vestige of humour now. Then, pushing his fingers through his thick greying hair, he rose abruptly and went towards the fireplace and stood looking down into the empty grate. And Sarah stood by the table, her hands moving nervously and without purpose until he said, ‘Have you talked to John lately?’
‘John?’ The name said like that jerked her into stiffness and she twisted her head over her shoulder and looked towards his back. And again she said, ‘John?’
‘There’s going to be a bust-up there and it’s a pity. He should let the lad get settled first. Although in a way I don’t blame him, he’s had it rough since he came back. It was bad enough before the war.’
She watched him turn slowly towards her now and he held her gaze when he spoke, ‘He’s going to leave May.’
There was a pressure in her throat as if from the point of a bone; the feeling would not allow her to swallow. Yet this was not news to her, she had known it was going to happen.
She heard him say, ‘What are you going to do, Sarah?’
‘Me?…Me?’ She moved her head from side to side in one wide startled sweep. ‘Nothing, nothing. Why…why should I?’ She sounded indignant. But she could not keep her eyes on his and her lids dropped over them; then her head moved downwards. She felt him coming towards her, and when he was near he said, ‘I’m glad of that, Sarah, I’m glad. I’ll tell the old lady that I won’t be moving up there, at least not for the present. I’ll be going now. So long, Sarah.’
‘So long, Dan.’
She waited for him to move, and when he didn’t she looked up. She looked into the kindly face of this man—this man who had about him the gentleness of David and the virility of John. It was a strange attractive combination, seeing that he was also the brother of her mother-in-law. When he put out his hand and touched her cheek gently it was as if David had come alive. He turned from her and went out.
As Sarah watched him go down the backyard, pausing to turn off the dripping tap before going into the back lane, she did not think of him, nor yet of John, nor yet of David, but she thought of the woman next door who was mother and sister to these three men, and the words she had once spoken resounded loudly through the kitchen: ‘You have taken my menfolk.’
Her head drooped again and she supported her brow with the palm of her hand. Then, blinking rapidly, she said to herself, ‘I’ll make a cup of tea before I clear.’
As she sat drinking her tea she thought of what the years had done to her, of what loving a number of people had done to her. She had loved David…Oh, yes, she had. But she had passioned for John. Without loving him she had wanted him. She realised that. During the first month of her marriage her body had in a way become a university for her natural desire, but she had learned so quickly in this direction that her tutor was left far behind on a plane from which he had not the power to propel himself. David was not ruthless enough, not brutal enough, not selfish enough. John in this particular field would have been all three.
She pulled at the neck of her blouse to give herself air. She felt as if she was going to suffocate, the room was stifling. She rose and went to the window and pushed it further upwards, and as she did so there walked in through the back door the thin wizened figure of her father. He saw her almost at the same moment as she caught sight of him, and to prevent the door being locked in his face he sprinted up the yard.
Breathing heavily, Sarah turned to the table. It was no good rushing into the scullery, he’d be in by now. The next moment his voice came from behind her, not placating as it was once, but surly. ‘You would have shut me out, wouldn’t you?’
She did not answer him for a moment, and then she said in a voice so unlike her own that it was impossible to imagine herself speaking, ‘I’ve told you not to come here. Can’t you take a telling?’ But she knew that she became an entirely different being when confronted with this man.
‘Aa’ve got no place else to go, Aa’ve been turned out.’
‘It isn’t the first time, you can find other lodgings.’
‘Aa can’t, not on my money; only place is a hovel.’
‘It’s of no interest to me where you stay, I’ve told you before. Now get out.’ She still had her back towards him.
‘Folks is talkin’. You with a room goin’ beggin’ and me on the street. You’d see me in the workhouse.’
‘Yes, I would.’
‘Well, you won’t then, I’m comin’ here.’
She turned towards him now, her eyes wide. ‘You’re what? You’ll come here over my dead body. You’ve blackmailed me for years, but now, as I told you before, the only one I was afraid of you hurting has gone. And you can say what you damn well like now, it makes no difference. Go on, get on with it; shout about all you think you know.’
‘You’re speaking out of turn, you should think a bit afore you open your mouth so wide.’ He was speaking slowly, quietly.
She narrowed her eyes at him. She couldn’t follow him. What did he mean? What was he alluding to? He had got something else into that warped, twisted mind of his. ‘What are you up to now?’ she said from between her teeth.
He peered at her through his bleary eyes. There was a trickle of saliva running from one corner of his mouth. He asked again, ‘Aa y’ goin’ to give me that room? You’ll be sorry if y’ don’t, mind. Aa’m tellin’ you, you’ll be sorry.’
‘Get out!’ she took a step from the table, a threatening step, but he did not move.
‘Y’ could handle me if y’ liked. It would be worth your while, Aa’m tellin’ you.’
‘Get out!’
‘Aye, aall right then. If y’ want it that way, Aa will. An’ Aa’ll find those two an’ tell ’em.’
Her face screwed up. ‘Those two? What two? Who you talking about?’
‘The bairns.’
‘The bairns?’ she repeated.
‘Aye, that’s what Aa said, the bairns. Do
Aa need t’ name ’em. Aa’ll tell ‘em they’d better go careful.’ Her face was slowly stretching. She mouthed the word ‘careful’, but without a sound.
‘They were carrying on together down the station bank, rolling about; they’re ready to jump into bed any minute, and they can’t, can they?’ He stared into her wild, startled face. ‘Y’ mustn’t let that happen, must you? It’d be unnatural, wouldn’t it? After you given’ ’em the same faather an’ all…Well, didn’t you? She was born practically nine months to the minute from one o’clock on that New Year’s morning on the wasteland, where you and the big fellow were neckin’. An’ that’s putting it mildly, isn’t it? If there’d been nowt in it, do you think you’d have paid up all these years…You had somethin’ to hide all right, an’ y’ still have.’
Once before she had experienced the feeling of her body swelling to explosive point; the feeling was with her again only more intense, more terrible. She felt her rage lift her off her feet. She swung round to the table and grabbed up the first thing that came to hand, which was the rolling pin bottle filled with water, and she hurled it at him. As he turned his face from the onslaught it caught him full on the temple and he dropped like a stone.
She was standing, her back to the table, hanging on to its edge. She was aware that someone was in the yard, but she didn’t know who; her body was still swelling, her head seemed to fill the room. She could feel her eyes stretching to snapping point as she watched the blood flow over the lino. The bigger her body grew, the quieter she became inside, it was as if she was being carried away into a great silence. Even when she saw May burst into the room with Paul by her side she made no sound. She watched May kneeling on the floor, she saw her raise his head up, then put her hand inside his waistcoat. May looked more human in this moment than she had ever seen her before. ‘He’s dead,’ she said.
Sarah knew he was dead. She knew as soon as the bottle had hit him that he had died. She was glad he was dead. Oh, she was glad he was dead. He could never hurt or terrify her again. He could never hurt anyone again. He could never hurt Kathleen now…that was the important thing, he could never hurt Kathleen. Kathleen was safe, safe, safe. And Paul too; yes, Paul was safe too. They were both safe.
The Blind Miller Page 26
