‘And this too is Ron. The cellist. And believe it or not we’ve got to put him on a high chair to enable him to manage his instrument.’
The short man’s answer was lost amid laughter.
‘And finally, this is Percy. Percy can play anything from the triangle to the tambourine. He can also whistle.’ Percy took her hand, saying, ‘Definitely my art is diffused, but I have never stooped so low as to even touch a guitar.’
She was laughing. They were all laughing, and she was amazed at the feeling of camaraderie among these men and particularly at Charlie’s obvious standing amongst them, for all four looked to be in their mid-forties.
‘Sit down, dear.’ Charlie pressed her onto the pouffe near the fire and then he sat down on the floor beside her.
Solely for something to say to cover her embarrassment, she said, ‘When did you get back; I mean, from Spain?’
‘Oh, we landed at Newcastle airport’—Charlie turned and looked at the men—‘at three o’clock?’
They nodded, saying, ‘Yes, three o’clock.’
For the next ten minutes or so she sat listening to these mature men chipping him, and he, her quiet Charlie, giving them back as much as they sent. This was a different Charlie. She had never imagined him being a popular figure. The man called Percy was now leaning forward and saying, ‘Those two old girls in the old people’s home, remember? They summed up your guitar playing as nobody else has been able to do.’
The memory caused another burst of general laughter; then Percy, addressing himself to Peggy, explained, ‘We were giving this concert in this old people’s home. Two old girls were sitting very close at the front. One had a hearing aid and she kept fiddling with it. His nibs here was doing his solo piece, the stage to himself and the old people were comparatively quiet, until the one with the hearing aid asked in no small voice, “I can’t get me aid to work; what’s he playin’?” And her companion answered in an even louder voice, “It’s one of them tinny things. And don’t bother with it, you wouldn’t like it anyway, it’s got no tune.”’
The room again exploded with laughter.
And still laughing, Charlie said, ‘But I did what you lot didn’t do: I came back with an Irish jig, and then, “We’ll Meet Again” and “Roll Out The Barrel”. But you stiff-necks, what did you play? Mozart’s Quartet in A Flat, and half of them fell asleep. Of course it could have been in B Minor and then they would all have been carried out.’
‘Who does he think he is? And fancy him knowing about Mozart’s Quartet in A Flat.’
‘Not only A, but B Minor.’
Charlie was about to retaliate when the door opened and May now appeared, saying, ‘Well, there it is. If you’re hungry, come and get it. It’ll fill a holey tooth until later.’
As they made their way to the dining room Peggy went towards the kitchen, calling to the men, ‘I’ll be seeing you again.’
Amid their replies Charlie said, ‘Carry on, will you? I’ll be with you in a few minutes,’ and he whipped up his coat from among a stack of luggage and instruments lying in the hall, and taking her by the arm he hurried her through the kitchen.
Out of sight and sound of the house, in the wood, he put his arms about her and kissed her hungrily; and she returned his kisses with fervour, muttering, ‘Oh Charlie. Charlie.’ Then she asked, ‘What’s afoot? I mean, your mother said something about breaking up.’
‘Yes, this is a sort of parting party. I’m going to miss them. They’re a fine bunch of fellas, grand, each one of them.’
‘But why?’
‘Oh, it’s a long story. Anyway, to make it brief, they’ve got a chance of doing a six months’ tour in America from coast to coast. Now two of them, Percy and Joe, they are staying in America, I know that, and I think the other two could be persuaded. It will depend on how the tour goes. None of them has any connections here, not really; they’re all bachelors; at least, in a way. One’s a widower and another’s divorced, and only Joe’s parents are alive, so they’re freelance in all ways. But I couldn’t see me staying away all that time…not from you, and then probably being persuaded to follow their line and make America my home. No, I just couldn’t do it.’
‘Oh, Charlie, I’ve spoilt that for you, too. And Auntie May’ll be so mad at me. She’ll try to hide it, I know, as she always does.’
‘Oh no, Auntie May won’t, Auntie May’s delighted at this arrangement. Anyway, it’s been in my mind to step out on my own for some time now. I’ve enough material to give a full recital. And what’s more, I can always teach. And there’s more people taking it up seriously now, not just strumming chords. I learnt so much from Mr Reynolds. I do miss him when I come back. But he was old and tired; he’s had youngsters falling over themselves to be taught by him. Knowing his methods, I feel teaching could be quite a sideline. I won’t starve. And, darling, you wouldn’t starve, either. Can’t you make up your mind?’
‘Oh, Charlie, you know my mind’s been made up for years. I could walk out this minute, this very minute, if it wasn’t for Emma. But he would and could claim her, you know he would. And there’s things going on now that frighten me.’
‘Worse?’
‘In a way, yes.’
‘He hasn’t…?’
‘Not as far as I know. But I just don’t know; she’s afraid of rows between us, so she’s afraid naturally to say anything.’
‘And the great Mrs Funnell?’
‘Oh, as enamoured as ever.’
‘I can’t believe it of that old girl, you know, I just can’t. She was such a level-headed, dynamic person; and to be taken in by a scut like him.’
‘Vanity’s a strange thing. I never realised it until lately, but looking back I can see she has always been inordinately vain. Mother said the same. And that’s another thing. Mother used to pop in nearly every day. She doesn’t any more. I envy her her happiness—she can’t help it shining out of her—but I’m also bitter against her for saddling me with this lot, and for changing me from what I was: she made the young girl into a woman before her time and a bitter one at that. Charlie, I’ve changed. I’m…I’m not the person you knew years ago. I say and do things that shock me.’
He laughed now, saying, ‘My dear, dear, Peggy, you’ll always be the same to me. You know I’ve loved you from the very beginning and I’ll go on loving you. And now that I’m home for good, at least my bookings abroad will be for just a week or so at a time, that’s all, well…we’re coming together. Do you hear? Really coming together. I don’t care where or when. Oh yes, I do, as regards when, anyway, because it’s got to be soon. And you needn’t have any feeling of compunction about him, for he’s been at it for years on the side, and you know it. I must get back now, if for no other reason than that the table will soon be cleared and I haven’t had a bite since this morning. Oh, love.’ He held her close again, and as they were about to part she said, ‘Charlie,’ and he said, ‘Yes?’
‘Have you never wanted anyone else; is that true?’
There was neither an immediate protestation nor confirmation from Charlie; then he said, ‘No; I have never wanted anyone else; but that’s not to say I’ve never had needs, and they had to be met. But over the past few years, what with one night stands and travel, there was little energy or time left except for eating and bed.’
He kissed her again, then said, ‘I’ll see you later tonight. I’m coming over with Emma’s present.’
‘All right, Charlie.’ Even to herself her voice sounded flat.
She did not hurry back to the house.
That’s not to say I haven’t had needs, and they had to be met, she thought.
She, too, had needs that cried out to be met, but there was no way of meeting them. But Charlie was a man. She had to remember that: though why should she? Yes, why should she? Who was to weigh the difference in the urge? Her body was racked at times when the torment had almost driven her across the corridor into Andrew’s bed. Only shame and pride had prevented that humiliation.<
br />
Damn men! Damn Charlie!
Oh no; never say that. She’d have to pull herself together. But if only he hadn’t told her. Oh, come off it. What did she want in a man? A plaster saint? She should remember that she went with a man when she was sixteen. Oh well, didn’t she know that? Dear God, didn’t she? But Charlie had been different.
PART THREE
1983
One
‘Take her to the doctor,’ Lizzie said.
‘What can I say to the doctor, Mam? That her teacher says she’s not paying attention? That twice this term she’s had to leave the classroom because she was sick?’
‘Yes, you can say just that, especially the latter…She’s not…?’
‘Oh, my God! Mam, don’t suggest such a thing.’
‘Well, my dear, just think back; you weren’t many months older.’
‘Don’t rub it in, Mam.’
‘I’m not rubbing it in, Peggy. That’s the last thing I would do, you know. I’m just stating a fact.’
‘Well, it isn’t that, it’s him. She’s worried in some way about him, but I can’t get anything out of her. And if I can’t make her open up, how do you expect the doctor to do so?’
‘Oh, she’ll more likely do so with him than to you, knowing that it’s hell let loose every time you look at each other. So do as I say: get on to Doctor Rice and make an appointment.’
‘She tells me she’s going to a disco tonight.’
‘Has she been before?’
‘Once or twice. But he doesn’t know.’
‘Well, you should tell him. Put him in the picture. He’s bound to know when he comes and finds her gone or going.’
‘He rarely comes home early on a Tuesday night. He has some meeting or other he goes straight to. On a Friday, too. So if there’s anything she wants to go to on these nights, I tell her to go.’
‘What a set-up for a young lass when her father mustn’t be told she goes to a dance,’ said Lizzie, which brought forth from Peggy the sharp and quizzical retort, ‘Remember, Mam, when I was fifteen I wasn’t allowed out at all after six o’clock unless you were with me.’
Lizzie turned in somewhat of a huff and made for the door, saying, ‘Things were different then. This is nineteen eighty-three. There was a set of decent rules then; now they’re changing partners every night.’
‘And having babies at fourteen.’
Lizzie turned from the doorway, saying, ‘Don’t get bitter, Peggy. What’s done is done. And it was done for the best, although I must admit it didn’t turn out like that. Anyway, you should be thankful that she’s got a clean name, and so have you.’
‘Oh Mam, for God’s sake shut up, and go home before I lose my temper! “Clean name, and so has she.” With a father like Andrew Jones? Let me tell you something, Mam: I’d have been happy to have had a bastard and to have taken my chance in never being married. But I would have been married and happily.’
‘Oh, yes, yes, we know you would, dear, and to Charlie Conway. But it didn’t happen like that and you’ve got to make the best of it.’
As her mother stamped away down the drive Peggy stared after her. Make the best of it, she had said. She got what she wanted and left me with the rough end of the stick…
An hour later Peggy was sitting by Victoria’s bed. She was holding her grandmother’s hand as she said, ‘I won’t be long. I’m just going to drop her off at the hall. It’s the only chance she has of getting out on her own.’
‘Peggy?’
‘Yes, Gran?’
‘I’m going to say something to you now and I want you to promise me something, for I’m not long for this side of the curtain.’
‘Oh, Gran; you know you’ve been bad so often during your life…’
‘Yes, I know that, lass; I’ve retreated into illness; but you know, and I know what’s wrong with me now. I’m not living on morphine for nothing, am I? Now when I go there’ll be a nice bit of money coming to you. She knows nothing about it.’ She thumbed towards the wall as if her mother were just beyond and not at the far end of the corridor. ‘Father left me a bit and she thinks I went through that a long time ago. She knows I’ve got some, but I’d never give her the satisfaction of telling her how much. I’ve always left my bank book locked away in that drawer.’ She pointed to the bureau. Then putting her hand under the pillow, she said, ‘There’s the key. Now, a copy of my will’s in there, too, and it’s also with the solicitor. Please, dear, please, dear, don’t cry, don’t cry. Just listen. Now I want you to promise, as soon as I go, when you get that money, you’ll take it and the child and go off somewhere abroad for a time. In the meantime, put in for a divorce. You’ve got enough on him. I know you want proof. Well, engage a private detective. He’ll find out his comings and goings to his so-called meetings, twice a week at least. Of course, you’ll have to tell Charlie, but by the time you’re free, Emma will be of age, such an age that he can do nothing to hold her. Now, promise me you’ll do what I ask?’
She forced herself to say, ‘Yes, Gran. All right, yes,’ knowing that she wouldn’t be able to do it; there were so many factors against it: the old woman along the corridor depending on her; Charlie, who had given up a good part of his life waiting for her. However, she had to reassure this woman whom she had never understood but had come to love. And so, bending over her and kissing her softly, she voiced her feelings by saying, ‘I love you, Gran.’
‘And I you, girl. And I you, and always have. Now go on and dry your eyes, because you don’t want to put another worry on that child’s shoulders.’
Peggy did not immediately go downstairs but went to her own room. And so it was that she didn’t hear Andrew come in and enter the sitting room, there to see his daughter dressed for going out in her wide-skirted jersey dress, her black hair hanging loose about her shoulders, and wearing, of all things, green-lobed earrings.
He stood within the doorway looking at her for a moment. She had risen from the couch and was awaiting his approach, her consternation evident as if she had been caught out in some misbehaviour.
‘And where are we going dressed up tonight?’
He was standing close to her now, not a hand’s breadth between them. And when she replied, ‘I…I’m going to a disco, Daddy,’ he stepped slightly back and his whole face seemed to crumble into disbelief as he said, ‘You’re what! You’re not going to any disco. By God, you’re not! Since when have you been going to discos, I ask you? Since when?’
‘I’ve been to two before, Daddy. I…I like dancing.’
‘You like dancing? Yes, I know you like dancing. We’ve danced, haven’t we? Well, if you like dancing I’m always here. I come home practically every night to be with you, so if you want to dance, we’ll dance.’
He now thrust his arm out and pulled her tightly towards him and waltzed her round the table, saying, ‘One, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three. That’s how I started you, that’s how I taught you to dance.’ Stopping now, he held her by the shoulders and, bringing his face close to her trembling one, he said, ‘How could you!’
When she tried to shrug herself from his hold, he said, ‘Don’t do that! Don’t ever do that. Now tell me: who asked you to go to this disco?’
‘Nobody, not really. All the girls from our class go there.’
‘It was a boy, wasn’t it?’
‘Leave go of my shoulders, Daddy. You’re hurting me.’
He closed his eyes tightly; then in a much quieter voice, he said, ‘Pet, you know I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, but you’re hurting me. You want to leave me on my own tonight and go to a disco and let some spotty lout put his arms about you?’
‘I’m turned fifteen, Daddy’—her voice trembling now—‘I’m not a child any longer. I don’t need…well, I’ve got to say it, I don’t need petting.’
‘You don’t need petting? Well, well! You don’t need me to love you any more? So you don’t love me?’
‘You know I love you, Daddy, and I…
I want you to love me, but…but I’ve got to…’
‘Yes? What have you got to…?’
‘Well, I’ve got to live. I mean, like…like other girls do.’
‘Like your mother did, you mean? Throw yourself into the arms of the first lad who looks at you.’
Emma’s long-lashed eyelids blinked rapidly, her mouth opened and shut twice before she said, ‘Mother never did.’
‘Mother did, and at me. She was a slut. That’s how you came about, because she chased me. Well, I’m going to see that you don’t do the same.’
‘Leave go of me, Daddy. Leave go!’
‘I won’t leave go. You’re mine, you understand? From the minute you were born you became mine. She didn’t want you. I did, and you will always be mine, do you hear? I’ll kill you before I let any goggle-eyed, snotty-nosed youth put a finger on you.’…
‘Let her go!’
He swung round, still with Emma in his arms, and not until he saw Peggy dash up the room and pick the long, steel poker from its rest on the brass openwork fender did he release her. And then, his voice falsely calm-sounding now, he said, ‘You use that, m’lady, and it’ll be the finish of you.’
‘Mammy! Mammy!’ Emma was clinging to Peggy now, her arms around her neck, crying, ‘Don’t! Don’t! Please, put it down.’
‘No, I won’t put it down, dear. But stand aside. Go on into the hall; we’re going out.’
The girl moved from her mother’s side, but now looked towards her father, and he, staring at her, said, ‘If you go to that place I’ll never forgive you. Do you hear? You go there, and I’ll never forgive you. And it’ll be the finish of me. If she comes between us—’ He now pointed towards Peggy without looking at her and repeated, ‘If she comes between us I’ll finish it. I will.’
‘Go on, dear. Get into the car.’
When she knew her daughter was out of the room, and still with the poker in her hand, Peggy took a step towards him, saying, ‘Well, that should be enough for you, shouldn’t it? Enough proof. You’ve lost your hold over her. She’s going to the disco and she’s going to mix with young people of her own age. And no matter how fresh the lads might get they’ll have a long way to go before they reach your handling, won’t they, Andrew?’
The House of Women Page 18
