Danny said, ‘Is he refusing to come in?’
‘No! I’ve only just found him.’ Brightly she said, ‘Mummy’s just found you, hasn’t she?’
Mark stared at the ground. As Danny came closer she saw a wet patch form on the front of his trousers. Danny snorted. ‘Dirty little bastard. Come on you – in. Now.’
In the kitchen Peter Rabbit and The Tale of Mrs Tiggywinkle had been placed side by side on the table. Annette stared at the books in dismay and felt her own bladder loosen so that she pressed her thighs together. Danny knelt on the floor so that his face was level with Mark’s. He held on to his shoulders and at once Mark looked at her in terror, his eyes pleading.
Evenly Danny said, ‘I found two books hidden under your mattress. I want you to tell me where you got them from and why you hid them away.’
‘Danny I put them there! Miss Grey gave me them – you know, the old ladies on Linden Avenue–’
‘Quiet! Don’t you lie for him! For Christ’s sake – why would you hide baby books? No, I want the truth and I want it from him.’ He shook Mark. ‘You stole them, didn’t you?’
‘No! Danny listen – I was given them, honestly!’
‘Shut up. I will make him speak. I will if I have to beat it out of him. Now, one more time. Where did you get those books?’
Mark shuddered. He bowed his head and a tear splashed onto the floor between him and his father. Danny drew his hand back and hit him hard across the face so that he staggered and almost fell. ‘You stop crying! You don’t cry just because I’m speaking to you, you little snivelling bloody nancy! And don’t look at your mother – she won’t help you!’
Annette lifted Mark into her arms. ‘Leave him! Just you leave him alone!’
Danny shook his head in mock disbelief. ‘Put him down. Put him down you silly bitch. You’ll make it worse for him if you don’t.’
Mark clung to her more tightly, his arms around her neck, his face buried in her shoulder. She could feel his wetness soaking into her skirt, his snot and tears through her blouse. Tremulously she said, ‘Danny, I hid the books, as a surprise for him when he went to bed. It was just a game.’
‘Put him down.’
‘Don’t hurt him.’
‘I won’t.’
She kissed Mark’s head. Setting him on the floor she crouched in front of him and said, ‘Let’s go upstairs and get you bathed, eh?’
As she straightened up Danny grabbed her arm. ‘He’s not going upstairs.’
She had almost cried. ‘Please, you said you wouldn’t hurt him!’
‘I’m not going to. You are.’
In the cemetery Annette shuddered. The breeze became colder, wisps of cloud scuttled across the sky. She drew on the cigarette, right down to its filter; she closed her eyes.
Danny had reached behind him and picked up a bamboo cane from the worktop. To Mark he’d said, ‘Because you’ve lied and caused your mother to lie you’re going to be punished. Take off you trousers and underpants.’
‘Danny –’
Danny looked at her. ‘Help him. Help him get undressed.’
‘No – there’s no need for this. I’m going to take him out, to Joan’s. Let you calm down.’ She took Mark’s hand and made to edge past him. Danny pushed her back, his hand flat against her shoulder. Turning around he locked the back door and put the key in his pocket. ‘Get him undressed.’
He’d told her that if she caned Mark he would receive only five strokes; if she disrespected him and refused he would beat him and he would get ten, or more, perhaps. Wearily, as though tired of explaining it to her, he said, ‘He has to learn, Annette. He has to learn that he can’t just hide behind your skirts.’
She’d undressed him. He’d stopped crying but his whole body was shuddering. His teeth were chattering and she pressed her hand against his cheek, trying to look him in the eye and give him what little comfort she could, but his eyes seemed not to see her, too frightened even to make a silent appeal. When he was naked from the waist down he hung his head with such abject shame that she began to cry.
‘Please don’t do this, Danny. I’ll do anything…’
Danny sat down. He said, ‘Mark, come here and bend over my knee. Your mother’s going to cane you.’
The cemetery rooks took off as one, startled by something only they sensed. Annette covered her face with her hands, seeing again the red weals that criss-crossed Mark’s flesh.
When she’d brought the cane down the third time she’d stopped, her face wet with tears as she said, ‘Danny, please don’t make me go on.’
He didn’t look at her, just kept his gaze on Mark’s bottom. Evenly he said, ‘Two more strokes. Don’t worry if you draw blood.’
Danny had carried Mark upstairs when it was over and laid him tenderly on their bed. He knelt beside him and placed his hand over Mark’s forehead. Softly he said, ‘There. Now you know what will happen to you in the future if you’re not good and don’t do as I tell you. And Mammy will be even more cross, next time.’ Mark had seemed comatose, he didn’t even flinch when Danny leaned over him and kissed his cheek. Looking up at her standing in the doorway Danny had said, ‘He can sleep in here with me tonight. You sleep in his bed with Ben.’
On the cemetery bench Annette let her hands drop from her face. This wouldn’t do. Time was getting on. She had to go to the school and watch out for her boys. After their dinner they played in the yard. Ben played. Mark watched. She would watch Mark watching. She stood up and began to walk as quickly as she could.
Annette watched through the school railings as Ben and his friends chased each other around the yard. She couldn’t see Mark. She tried to catch Ben’s attention but he was too caught up in his game. Just beyond the railings two little girls were skipping. Annette called out to them. ‘Where’s Mark Carter?’ They looked at her as though she was mad. An older girl approached her. ‘Are you his Mam?’
‘Yes. Do you know where he is?’
‘Miss took him inside.’
‘Why?’ Panicked, she looked towards the blue doors that led inside the school. She imagined Danny had come to fetch him. Her knees felt weak and she held on to the railings to stop herself falling.
The girl turned away. ‘Here’s Miss now,’ she said.
‘Mrs Carter?’ Mark’s teacher stood in front of her. ‘Mrs Carter, are you quite all right?’
‘Where’s Mark?’
‘He’s inside, with the school secretary. I’m actually very glad you’re here, I was just about to take him home to you.’
‘Why? He’s all right. He’s all right, he was this morning…’
The young woman touched her arm through the railings. ‘Calm down, Mrs Carter. Look, why don’t you come in. I’ll take you to him.’
She followed the teacher along a corridor lined with little pegs for the infants’ coats. The coats were missing, revealing drawstring cloth bags made from navy serge or checked gingham, knobbly with the outline of plimsolls; there was a faint smell of rubber and sweat. Each peg had a picture of an animal above it and a child’s name written in neat, bold letters below. The name MARK CARTER was coupled with a picture of a panda, a long stalk of bamboo in its paw. She stopped and touched it. His teacher smiled at her. ‘He chose the panda. Did he show you his drawing of it? Wasn’t it good?’
He hadn’t shown her any drawing. As the teacher walked on she wondered if he had shown her and she’d forgotten; perhaps she’d hidden it away, out of sight from Danny. Best to hide things from Danny.
The teacher opened a door. ‘Here he is, Mum,’ she said. ‘Here’s your poor, poorly boy!’ The woman smiled at Mark and crouched in front of the plastic chair he was sitting on. ‘Guess what, Mark? Mummy must have guessed you weren’t feeling well and came right over to get you! What a clever Mummy you have!’
She stood up straight and turned to Annette. Lowering her voice she said, ‘He’s been very quiet this morning, even quieter than usual. When I asked him what the matter was he seem
ed not to be able to tell me. We asked Ben if he knew what might be troubling him and he told us Mark had a tummy ache this morning. Anyway, the poor little thing didn’t look well at all. I think it’s best that you take him home and tuck him up in bed. I don’t know if you should call your doctor out, but I think perhaps I might if I were you. He’s not the type of child who usually makes a fuss.’ She laughed slightly. ‘Not that he’s making a fuss now.’
Annette barely heard the stream of words. She kept her eyes on Mark, willing him to look up at her. But he went on staring at the floor, still as a doll. She stepped towards him and he flinched.
Gently she said, ‘Mark, come on now. We’ll go home, just you and me. Daddy’s out. Daddy’s out at work all day.’ She held out her hand. ‘Should I carry you? I’ll carry you if you like?’
He let himself down from the too big chair. He slipped his hand into hers and she squeezed it with relief. ‘Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home.’
She lay with him on his bed and sang softly along to the little transistor radio, ‘ I left my home in Georgia, heading for the ’Frisco bay, I had nothing to live for…’ Such sad words. Her baby Mark was sleeping and she stroked his short, short hair. The music had soothed him, she hoped it had. She sang, ‘ Sitting on the dock of the bay, watching the tide roll in…’
Last night, just before dawn, she’d woken from a fitful sleep beside Ben to see Danny standing over the bed, Mark naked and limp in his arms. She knew that he’d killed him and she sat bolt upright. Unable to stop herself from crying she covered her mouth with her hand.
Danny jerked his head. ‘Get up.’
‘Danny – what have you done –’
‘I said get up. Don’t wake Ben or I’ll kill you.’
He’d turned and carried Mark out again. She got out of bed, stumbling in her haste to follow him. He was standing in the bathroom.
‘Run the bath. He needs a bath.’
‘What have you done to him?’
‘Run the bath.’
Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t get the plug to fit. The water poured from the tap, soaking her arm as she struggled. Danny prodded her with his foot. ‘Come on you silly bitch, he’s getting cold.’
‘But the water’s cold, Danny. There’s no hot water now!’ She looked up at him, crying openly. ‘Oh please Danny please say you haven’t hurt him.’
He lowered him into the few inches of cold water. ‘Wakey-wakey, Mark.’ He scooped a handful of water and poured it over Mark’s head, pinching his face hard between his fingers, distorting it. ‘Wake up, you little sod! Wake up and stop pretending!’ He’d let go of him abruptly. Brushing past her he’d said, ‘Get him dry and bring him back to my bed.’
Sitting on the Dock of the Bay ended. She kissed Mark’s forehead. ‘We like that song, don’t we. One day you and me will sit by the sea and watch the tide roll in.’ She smiled and kissed him again. ‘You and me and Ben, watching the tides.’
Mark opened his eyes and looked at her. For a while all he did was hold her gaze but then he reached out and touched her cheek. ‘Mummy,’ he whispered.
‘Yes, sweetheart, I’m here.’
‘Mummy…’
‘What? Would you like something to eat? Are you thirsty?’
He shook his head.
She kissed him. ‘It’s all right. I’m here.’ She drew him closer to her and closed her eyes. Outside in the street a woman laughed. A dog began to bark. She thought of Danny hating dogs. The barking went on, dragging her back from the edge of sleep. After while the dog was silent. She thought of Danny shooting it; he would have a gun, one day. One day Danny would have a gun. She drifted into sleep and dreamt of Danny marching the streets with a rifle on his shoulder.
She woke up to find Ben standing next to the bed. ‘Dad says you’re to come downstairs.’ He giggled and covered his mouth with his hand. Leaning forward he whispered in her ear, ‘He’s got a nice surprise.’
She sat up. Anxiously she said, ‘What is it, Ben, what’s the surprise?’
He shook his head and pressed his lips together.
‘Tell me.’
‘You have to come down and see!’
She glanced at Mark, still sleeping. ‘Did Daddy say any thing about Mark?’
Ben shook his head. He looked at his brother. ‘I don’t want Mark to wake up.’
‘No, perhaps it’s best he has a nice sleep, eh?’
‘Mark’s a baby.’ Still looking at Mark, his face twisted with contempt. ‘I wish I didn’t have to go to school with him.’ Ben looked at her hopefully, as if she might grant him his wish. When she didn’t say anything he added vehemently, ‘He’s too babyish to go to school anyway. Everyone thinks he’s just a soft baby!’
‘That’s not true, Ben! His teacher thinks he’s very clever.’
‘No she doesn’t!’ He looked away as if he knew his mother would guess he was lying. ‘Come down,’ he said. ‘Dad says come down now.’
In the kitchen Danny stood at the stove. An open can of baked beans stood on the sink. Toast was browning under the grill. He turned and grinned just as Ben had. ‘Ben – show Madam to her table!’
Ben smiled at her, pleased. He pulled out one of the chairs. ‘Sit down Mammy. Look what we’ve done.’
The table was set with knives and forks and side plates, a paper napkin folded at each of the three places. A single red rose had been placed in a vase next to the salt and pepper pots.
Danny said, ‘Ben, butter this toast for me.’
Timidly, unsure where all this was leading, Annette said, ‘I’ll do that, Ben, you sit down.’
‘No. He can do it. We’re giving Mam a rest, aren’t we Ben?’ He turned off the grill and tumbled the toast on to a plate. ‘Come on son, chop chop, you’re on cook-house duty now!’
Annette sat down. The sickly smell of baked beans filled her mouth and nose and she felt her stomach cramp. She knew she wouldn’t be able to eat more than a mouthful without feeling sick. She would have to force it down. Danny wouldn’t stand for anything else.
‘Right!’ Danny poured the beans onto the toast. ‘Sit down, Ben. I’ll be the waiter.’
Ben scrambled onto the chair opposite her. He smiled happily and she made herself smile back at him. She cleared her throat. ‘Isn’t this nice! Haven’t you and Daddy been working hard!’
Danny set their meals in front of them. Sitting down with his own meal he said, ‘Let’s say grace.’
About to pick her knife and fork up she jerked her head up to look at him. Danny said, ‘Bow your heads, then.’
Ben glanced at her, anxiety creeping back into his eyes. She nodded at him and he bowed his head and closed his eyes tight. She did the same. Danny laughed suddenly, causing them both to jump.
‘Look at the pair of you! Grace! For Christ’s sake! For what we are about to receive may the lord make us truly fucking thankful!’ He ruffled Ben’s hair. ‘You know your Mam believes all that rubbish, don’t you? She’d have you down to Sunday School if she had her way. You don’t want to go to school on a Sunday, do you son?’
Ben shook his head.
‘No! Course you don’t!’ Danny looked at her. ‘Eat your tea. We’ve got a surprise for you after, haven’t we Ben?’
Her stomach rebelled at every mouthful. Fear at what was to come next made her barely able to swallow. Her hands shook and Danny looked at her pointedly.
‘You had a sleep this afternoon, then? Had a nap?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you should be feeling bright as a button, eh? Fresh as a daisy!’
‘Yes. I am.’
‘Good. That’s what I like to hear! I know – we’ll have some music on – make it even more of a party!’ He looked to the windowsill where the transistor radio usually stood. Turning to her he said, ‘Where’s my radio?’
She stood up at once. ‘I’ll go and get it.’
He said, ‘Sit down. Tell me where it is.’
She sat. Trying to contr
ol the tremor in her voice she said, ‘It’s by Ben’s bed. Ben – you go and get it like a good boy.’
‘No.’ Danny sighed. Earlier he’d spread his paper napkin over his knee and now he screwed it into a ball and tossed it down. ‘For fuck’s sake, nothing’s ever nice and easy in this house is it? Always something to spoil things.’ Pushing himself away from the table he said, ‘I’ll go and get it. Eat your teas. Don’t worry that mine’s ruined will you?’
She listened to his light, quick tread on the stairs, her body stiff with fear. From the corner of her eye she saw that Ben was listening, too, his knife and fork clenched tightly in his hands. ‘It’s all right, Ben. You finish your tea now.’ He ignored her, staring down at his plate, both of them listening to Danny’s footfalls in the room above them where Mark was sleeping.
He came straight down again. He set the radio on the table and turned it on. A DJ’s voice filled the kitchen. The Supremes began to sing Baby Love. Danny grinned at her. He sang along in his lovely tuneful voice. After a few bars he sat down and finished his meal.
Later, when Ben had gone out to play and she stood washing the dishes, Danny came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘Did you like your surprise?’
‘It was lovely, Danny.’
He had bought a cake, a cream sponge. He’d hidden it in the cupboard and had brought it out with a little fanfare. Ben had looked at her, gauging her reaction and she had forced herself to pretend delight. For once Danny seemed to have been fooled. The cake had tasted of milky cardboard, clagging against the roof of her mouth as she struggled to swallow it.
Standing behind her at the sink he squeezed her tightly. ‘Do you love me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Say you love me, baby.’
‘I love you.’
‘I’m going to buy Ben a bike. I told him he should have a bike, promised him.’
She closed her eyes, hating to think of Ben’s disappointment when the promise was broken. Danny stepped away. He leaned against the table, watching her. Eventually he said, ‘You’re in a funny mood.’
‘No I’m not. I’m fine.’
‘I thought you’d be pleased to have your tea cooked for you.’
Say You Love Me Page 18
