Go Tell it to Mrs Golightly

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘Gee-up there!’

  Oh, they were being pulled by a horse; his hooves were clop-clopping and she could smell him. He smelt like cows, only different. ‘Ooh! Ooh!’ She laughed as she swayed, and she turned to Miss Braithwaite and asked, ‘Is this a carriage we’re driving in?’

  ‘No.’ Miss Braithwaite’s voice really did sound frightened. ‘It’s a cart, a flat cart with sides, and we’re sitting on a seat that runs along the front.’

  ‘Oh, I like it. Have you many horses, Granda?’ She turned her body to the side, but the next moment Miss Braithwaite had tugged it straight again and was whispering in her ear. ‘Don’t talk.’ Yet after giving this order she herself went on talking; but Bella could scarcely make out what she was saying above the rattle of the cart.

  ‘We…we are passing through the village. It’s a very nice place, small but very nice. There’s a general shop on the right of us and some cottages and an inn; then a blacksmith’s shop.’ She paused here before saying, ‘To the left is a rather large house, next to the church. It’ll be the vicarage.’ There was another pause before she added, ‘There’s a group of cottages down in a hollow. I suppose they are where the farm workers live.’

  After a long pause Miss Braithwaite spoke again. ‘We are now in the open country, Bella,’ she said. ‘To the left are well cultivated fields, and beyond them is a farmstead; and beyond that the hills rise upwards. But on the right-hand side of us the hills are much nearer.’

  There was a long, long pause now and Bella felt she would like to say something, anything, she just wanted to hear herself talking. She couldn’t talk to Gip, well not here because people were funny about Gip, they didn’t seem to understand him. But Miss Braithwaite had started again.

  ‘Oh, this is interesting, Bella; there’s a big house lying away to the right of us. It is turreted and there’s a long drive leading up to it. We’re passing the gates now, but it’s all overgrown, I don’t think anyone can live there.’ Now Miss Braithwaite raised her voice as she leant in front of Bella and asked tentatively, ‘Does anyone live in that house, Mr Dodd?’

  ‘Stop your jabbering, woman; you’ve never ceased since you got off that train.’

  There was a silence bereft of human voices now that hurt Bella, and it had evidently hurt Miss Braithwaite, because when she did speak again her voice trembled as she said, ‘It is necessary, Mr Dodd, that I explain…I mean point out the surroundings to Bella.’

  ‘Nothing is necessary. You’re wasting your time.’

  Now only the clop-clop of the horse’s hooves, the swishing of its tail, the flapping of the reins, the jingle of the harness, the grinding of the cartwheels, the sudden wafting of a bird as it winged its way above their heads, the lowing of cattle in the distance, a train whistling far, far away, and the thumping of her own heart filled the void deprived of the human voice and told her that this new grandfather of hers didn’t like her. She had said to Mrs Golightly, ‘What if he doesn’t take to me?’ and Mrs Golightly had laughed and said, ‘Never you fear, he’ll take to you all right; but if he’s a bit sticky at first it’ll be up to you to work on him. Talk to him, tell him about things. And remember what I’ve always told you, if you are afeared of anything, tackle it; the only way to get over fear is to face it.’

  ‘I’m very good at washing up, Granda, and I can knit and make straw baskets and mats. I can also play tunes on the piano. I’m very good at…’

  She felt she was going to be lifted wholly from the cart and into the air, the way Miss Braithwaite jerked at her arm; then she was made aware that the cart was turning and the wheels were going over cobbles. She was also aware that the light had changed, the brightness had gone from the day.

  The cart stopped and Miss Braithwaite lifted her to the ground; then they both stood, Miss Braithwaite watching, and Bella listening, as Joseph Dodd took his horse and flat cart towards the stables.

  ‘Where are we, Miss Braithwaite? Has the sun gone in?’ Her voice was a whisper now.

  ‘No, dear, it’s only that the house is built almost—’ She paused and Bella knew that she was looking about her, before she went on, ‘It’s built right onto the hillside. I…I shouldn’t think it gets the sun all day.’

  ‘Is it a nice looking house?’

  ‘Yes…yes, quite nice, it’s like a large cottage…oh, bigger than a cottage. It’s on two floors and has what looks like an attic above. It could be very pretty with flowers about.’

  ‘Aren’t there any flowers, Miss Braithwaite?’

  ‘No, no; I’m afraid not.’

  ‘Are we in a yard?’

  Again there was a pause before Miss Braithwaite spoke, and then she said, ‘Yes. Yes, it’s quite a large yard, cobbled. Your grandfather’s work seems to be connected with wood. There’s a lot of thin trees piled up at the end of what appears to be a stable block, and there’s a saw bench and other things near.’ She paused again before she said, ‘They look like willow trees. Ssh! Your grandfather’s coming back.’

  Bella heard her grandfather approach; she felt him pass her quite close. She heard a key being turned in a lock. She thought it was an old key and an old lock because the sound was heavy and grating.

  ‘Come.’ Miss Braithwaite’s voice was low and her hand, as it gripped Bella’s, trembled slightly, then it actually jerked Bella’s hand upwards as her grandfather’s voice boomed now.

  ‘Look at it, woman! Look at it! How’s she going to find her way around in here? The first thing that’ll happen is she’ll break her neck.’

  ‘She’s…she’s very good at finding her way around once she’s been directed.’

  ‘But who’s going to look after her, clothe her…?’

  ‘I can clothe meself, dress meself, and I can put the kettle on an’ make tea, an’ make toast, an’ peel taties. I can light the stove and put the pan on. I’ve done it for me da comin’ in. Mrs Golightly said I was a dab hand at it.’

  ‘Well, we’ve got no stove here, miss, it’s a coal fire.’

  ‘Well, I can learn once I’m shown, and Mrs Golightly said…’

  ‘Shut up!’

  ‘Don’t bawl at me!’

  Following this retort there was a silence and Bella knew that her granda was staring at her, and she knew from the pressure of Miss Braithwaite’s fingers just how he was staring at her.

  ‘Leave her there a moment and come outside, you.’

  Her granda’s voice was no longer bawling but it now had a kind of finality about it that made her body slump, and when Miss Braithwaite directed her to a chair she sat in it and, as she would have said herself, went all flop.

  Her granda and Miss Braithwaite were now in the yard and, she imagined, some distance away but she could still hear most of what they were saying, for as Mrs Golightly had often told her she had ears as big as cuddy’s lugs.

  ‘You hoodwinked me.’

  ‘I did nothing of the sort.’

  ‘Well, the other one did.’

  ‘Miss Talbot did it with the best of intentions; she thought if you saw the child you could not help but like her…and pity her situation. I have only been dealing with the case for a week since Miss Talbot went into hospital, but she told me that Bella is very sensitive and is a lonely child because her father kept her to himself. He apparently did his best. He took her to school in the mornings and one of the teachers brought her back home at night, but she was often alone in their flat for hours. Your son, perhaps you know, was a lorry driver and his working hours were erratic. What is more, the child spent a traumatic weekend alone. Her father failed to come home, and when she knew he was dead she didn’t speak for days, and as you may have already noticed she’s a ready talker. When it was discovered after some long delay that the child had a grandparent you were advised of your son’s death…’

  ‘My son died for me when he left here fifteen years ago.’

  ‘That’s as may be, Mr Dodd, but officially your son died six weeks ago, and…and because he had left no inform
ation concerning any relative it took some time to discover you…’

  ‘And from that you thought you’d better go warily, that’s about it, isn’t it, before you panged a blind child on me.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that at all. The school Bella’s been at till now is a day school; she couldn’t be left alone during the Easter holidays, the alternative was to send her into a home, but Miss Talbot and the Committee thought that before they took this decision they would contact you. And Miss Talbot did so, and you offered to take the child during the holidays because, after, she’s to go to a boarding school.’

  ‘Aye; aye, I did, but I’ve been hoodwinked. Your Miss Talbot must have thought I was blind an’ all, and by God, I have been! I thought she was dim, but what she was…was wily…Women!’

  Bella, her body straight now, her ear turned in the direction of the door, waited for the silence to pass; and then her grandfather’s voice came to her again, saying, ‘How long has she been like that?’

  ‘Her eyes were weak from when she was born, so I understand. Her mother was very young, only sixteen. She had to take the child to the hospital every week and it must have become too much of a strain for her because she left the child and her husband before the child’s first birthday. I don’t know all the ins and outs of the case, I’m merely acting as guide today because of Miss Talbot’s sudden illness. But I understand your son apparently did his best for the child, he wouldn’t allow her to be taken into care, he even went to Court once in order to keep the custody of her. They tell me that when Bella was five she could see relatively well, but then she contracted measles and other childish ailments and these weakened her system and her sight went completely when she was six years old.’

  ‘The sins of the fathers.’

  ‘Well, you should know about that, Mr Dodd.’

  ‘Look you here, miss, don’t you come that with me! I’ve lived a blameless life, I’ve been a God-fearing man all me days, and I brought me son up…’

  ‘To fear his Maker; and you too, I should imagine.’

  Bella had pulled herself to the edge of the chair, her toes were touching the ground, her body was stiff. Eeh! Miss Braithwaite must have stopped being afraid of him for now she was giving him what for. What would he do to her? Hit her?

  ‘For two pins I’d send you and her packing.’

  ‘Well, that’s what you intended to do from the beginning, isn’t it, Mr Dodd? But I can tell you that I, too, have come to a decision: I intend to take her back because I can see you are not the right person to look after her. She’d be happier in a home…far happier.’

  Bella moved quickly from the chair. Her hands outstretched, she began to walk towards the stream of fresh air, which meant the doorway, and when she reached it she groped around it and stood for a moment before shouting out, ‘Please!’

  She knew they were both looking at her and waiting for her to go on. She knew what she wanted to say, it was all in her head and in her chest. There was a great feeling in her chest, a painful feeling. She had had it there since they told her her father was dead. She thought they had meant he was dead drunk, as he so often was, but then they had explained to her that he was dead, dead, and from then she knew that she was alone, except for Gip and Mrs Golightly. But neither of them could make up for her da. And then two weeks ago she had heard she had a granda and the pain in her chest had sunk right down. But now it was back again and it was stopping her from speaking.

  She put her hands out and walked towards where she imagined they were standing, and when Miss Braithwaite’s voice said gently, ‘Bella,’ she turned her body to the right, then stopped, and what she said now was simply, ‘I don’t want to go back, Miss Braithwaite; I want to stay with me granda.’

  She was lost in the silence until the horse neighed. After that her granda spoke. ‘Show her the ropes inside,’ he said; ‘I’m going to see to the animal.’

  Bella held out her hand but Miss Braithwaite did not take it immediately. When she did, she gripped it and almost took Bella at a run back into the house.

  ‘Now!’ Miss Braithwaite’s voice had an excited sound. Bella could feel the excitement going right through her, and she said in a whisper, ‘What is it like, Miss Braithwaite?’

  ‘Cluttered, but very homely. Now we’ll start. You come in through the door and right opposite to it is the fireplace; but mind, there is a table in the middle. Take four steps. Now here we are at the table. Come round it to the right. That’s it. Now here is a big wooden chair, likely your grandfather’s.’

  Bella felt the arms of the chair and placed her fingers over the pad on its seat, and then Miss Braithwaite said, ‘You can feel the heat of the fire; now you’re standing directly in front of it. Put your foot out and you’ll touch the steel fender. That’s it. Now let’s see. The length of the fender will take four of your steps, try it. There, I thought so. Now at this end you can lean over and touch the side hob. There’s a pan standing on it, can you feel it?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Braithwaite; and I could easily take it off.’

  ‘I…I wouldn’t do that, it might be full of liquid, boiling liquid. And remember you mustn’t do anything that is going to hurt you or cause trouble with…with your grandfather.’

  ‘What is at the other side of the fireplace?’

  ‘An oven, a round oven. I’ve never seen one like it before but I’m sure it’s the kind that makes lovely bread.’

  Bella knew that Miss Braithwaite was smiling, the smile was coming over in her voice.

  ‘Back to the table we go. There are two wooden chairs under it, you can feel them? So far, so good. But now we come to the clutter. I would keep clear of this part of the room if I were you; go no further than the horsehair sofa.’

  Bella placed her hands along the seat of the sofa, then with a touch of laughter in her voice she said, ‘It’s prickly.’

  There was laughter in Miss Braithwaite’s voice, too, as she replied, ‘It’s a very old sofa and the horse, I am afraid, is pushing its hairs out all over it.’

  For the first time since Miss Braithwaite had met the child she now heard her laugh outright. After a moment she took the child’s hand again and said, ‘When you want to go up the stairs make for the sofa, the stair post is right opposite. Up we go!’

  Together they mounted the bare oak stairs, counting as they went. ‘Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.’

  ‘Here we are, then. Oh, the landing is quite straightforward, there are just three doors going off it. Let’s see what is behind the first one.’

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ Miss Braithwaite’s voice had dropped to a whisper. ‘That is your grandfather’s room, the big bear.’ She laughed again, then went on, ‘And what’s behind this door? Oh, this I imagine has been got ready for you.’

  ‘So he meant to have me, Miss Braithwaite; if he got the room ready he must have meant to have me, didn’t he?’

  ‘Er…yes. Yes, I should imagine so.’

  ‘Where’s the window, Miss Braithwaite?’

  ‘It’s here. But it’s quite small, and I don’t think it has been opened for a long time. And here is your bed, to the side of it.’

  ‘Has it got curtains on it, Miss Braithwaite, the window?’

  Miss Braithwaite looked at the curtains which must once have been blue but which now appeared a washed-out grey and she said, ‘Yes, feel them.’

  ‘What colour are they?’

  ‘A pretty blue; they match the patchwork quilt on your bed.’

  ‘And…and the lino, what colour is the lino?’

  ‘Oh.’ Miss Braithwaite paused as she looked down at the linoleum which had evidently been washed so often it was almost devoid of pattern and she lied boldly as she said, ‘Well, it’s a kind of yellow, a golden yellow, you know. It has flowers on it and it matches the wallpaper.’

  ‘Oh, it must look pretty.’

  ‘Come.’ Miss Braithwaite felt she couldn’t lie any more at the moment and she led Bella towards the door, but stopped as sh
e went to go out, saying, ‘Oh, I forgot. Come over here; there’s a chest for you to put your clothes in it. It has five drawers and is just a little taller than you. Feel it.’

  ‘It’s got big wooden knobs on.’

  ‘Yes, it has big wooden knobs.’

  When Miss Braithwaite opened the third door on the landing, she exclaimed, ‘Oh, this is just a lumber room. There are odd pieces of furniture and boxes in it.’

  ‘And apples.’

  ‘Apples?’

  ‘Yes, I can smell apples.’

  ‘Oh, very likely. Yes, very likely it’s been a storeroom, those boxes could have been for apples. Perhaps there’s an orchard somewhere about. Come along.’

  ‘Will you show me where the washing-up is done? There must be a kitchen.’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course. I’ve forgotten about that, there must be a kitchen.’

  In the living room again Miss Braithwaite looked about her, then exclaimed, ‘Oh, there’s a door at the far end; it’s beyond the wooden chair. It’s a good job it’s at the clear end of the room.’

  A few seconds later Miss Braithwaite was standing in the stone-floored scullery and gazing about her in dismay. A shallow stone sink was attached to one wall of the room, and under it was an old bucket, and on the small table to the side of the sink were some tin mugs and two tin plates. Opposite the sink and placed in the corner between two walls was set an old-fashioned wash boiler, and next to it was an equally old-fashioned mangle.

  ‘Is it a nice kitchen?’

  ‘ …Very…er…pleasant. A bit old-fashioned but very serviceable. Here is the sink…and here is the pump. I think you can just reach it.’

  ‘A pump?’

  ‘Yes; feel it. It likely pumps water up from a well.’

  ‘Will I be able to drink it?’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course…Come.’

  Bella found her hands tugged away from the round scaliness of the pump and Miss Braithwaite was saying, ‘Here’s the door that leads directly into the yard. It’s on the side of the house, but from just outside where we are standing now you can take in the whole yard because the cottage…the house appears to be long and narrow. Ah! There’s your grandfather.’