The Would-Be Wife

by Annie Wilkinson

  They sat together in a corner.

  ‘What’s it like, in the Arctic, Dad, really?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve just told you.’

  ‘A freezing, howling wilderness. That doesn’t tell me a lot.’

  ‘What else is there? Men are fishing in temperatures you’d wonder how anyone can survive. The spit freezes in their throats. It freezes their voices – they can’t shout. It takes a tot of rum for them to be able to speak. Put your hand on anything, and it sticks to it. You can’t take it off without tearing your skin off. If you’re inside the Arctic Circle in the middle of winter, there’s no sun to rise, and none to set. You only know what time it is by looking at the clock on the bulkhead. You’ve got perpetual darkness. I do six-hour watches, but the deckies hardly get any sleep when they’re gutting fish and hauling nets. Because they’re usually dead on their feet and their hands and arms are frozen, there’s accidents with gutting knives and machinery. Talk about fishermen and their vast amounts of money . . . if you consider the hours they work and the conditions they work in you realise they’re the worst-paid people in the world. No, they’re not over-paid, fishermen.’

  ‘What else?’

  ‘Storms, blizzards, constant wind, seas that wash over the decks, black frost that ices the ship up, and ice, cracking and creaking and groaning all the time. You see the Aurora sometimes, the Northern Lights. They’re something spectacular, they light the whole sky up. Icebergs as big as a block of flats, and ice isn’t white, it’s blue. In summer, you might see some of the animals . . . Arctic foxes, you hear ’em more than see ’em. Seals, Polar bears, caribou. Birds, Arctic tern, mollies, ptarmigan. The cleanest, clearest seas you’ll ever see – but you’d rather be at home.’

  They sat talking until closing time. Her father left his sandwich almost untouched and went with her to collect Simon. They all walked back to the house together, and Lynn rang for a taxi.

  Her father hugged Simon before he left. ‘Look after him, Lynn. They’re the best years of your life – when your bairns are little. I missed too much of you three growing up.’

  ‘I’ve just had a thought,’ he said, as they stood at the door. ‘I wonder if Alec can remember that bloke’s name? I’ll be off down to our Anthony’s, see if Brenda knows where I can find him.’

  ‘She doesn’t. He’s moved out of his digs and they’ve heard nothing from him since the end of August. They told me that on New Year’s Eve.’

  With his last hope gone, he seemed to deflate like a burst balloon. He got into the taxi looking as if he’d aged ten years and she felt heart-sore to see him, and to think of him going back to an empty house.

  Watching him go, Lynn wondered how she could have ignored all the clues her mother had been giving out. But her head had been too full of her own troubles, and she’d never imagined her mother being anything other than what she’d always been – there, at home where she belonged, keeping house for them all. Her dad had never had to fend for himself, so how on earth would he manage if she never came back . . . and how well would they get on together if she did come back, after this? He’d always worshipped the ground she walked on, but now she’d done something that was hard for any man to stomach, and it had knocked him for six. Vain, selfish Nina had met somebody else, so the love and devotion – not to mention the worldly goods – her husband had lavished on her for the best part of his life counted for nothing.

  How could she treat him like that? How could she break their home up? Not only her father’s home, but theirs as well – hers and Margaret’s and Anthony’s. It had been theirs to go back to at Christmas and Easter and birthdays and weekends, and whenever they wanted to, and find everything just the same. But Nina had gone out and destroyed all that, and now nothing would ever be the same again. She had deliberately trampled it all into the muck, as if none of them counted for anything.

  Lynn was suddenly overwhelmed by anger. The intensity of her feeling took her by surprise, and frightened her. It gave such power to her limbs that if Piers Marson had been there, she would have killed him herself, on the spot. She would never make him welcome; him, or whoever else her mother’s partner in crime was – not ever. She would detest the slimy creature to her dying day. They would never step over her threshold – either of them. And that she should feel like this . . . at her age! A grown woman with a home of her own!

  She remembered Alec at their last meeting, and the way he’d looked at her when he said: ‘Oh, Lynn – you’ve no idea! Kids don’t get over it, they put up with it – because they’re powerless to do anything else!’

  She had an idea now, all right. Thank God they hadn’t done it to Simon. She grabbed hold of him, lifted him up and held him tight, kissing his neck. ‘I love you, Simon!’

  He laughed and pulled away from her, his eyes dancing. ‘Can I have a milkshake, then? Can we watch the telly, now Grandad’s gone?’

  Chapter 31

  ‘There’s no let up, is there?’ Graham said, glancing through the kitchen window at the blizzard outside. ‘The car heater’s never been off lately, and the lights and wipers are getting some stick as well. Where’s that bottle of distilled water? Where’s that Vaseline? I’d better clean the terminals and top the battery up before it dies on me. I don’t want to be stranded anywhere in this weather.’

  Lynn stooped and groped in the cupboard under the sink to retrieve them. ‘Where are you going, anyway?’

  ‘Work. Where do you think? Mr Senior’s scheduled a meeting. He wants us all there.’

  ‘What – on a Saturday morning?’

  ‘Well, he’s the boss, he can have meetings when he wants. You don’t think they’re paying me this brilliant salary for nothing in return, do you? If they want me somewhere, I’ll have to go.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re supposed to get weekends off, and I wanted you to look after Simon while I go into Hull.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘My dad’s ashore. I want to go and have a couple of hours with him.’

  ‘Well, what’s wrong with taking Simon? If they’re going on a spending spree, they can kit him out, as well. You as well, if they like. I’ve no objection.’

  ‘You know Simon hates trailing round shops. What time are you going to be back?’

  ‘How do I know? A few of us might go down to the golf club for a spot of lunch.’

  ‘You don’t play golf.’

  ‘You don’t have to play golf to eat a meal, Lynn – and if you think I’ll be rushing back to sit on my own with Simon while you swan off into Hull for hours, think again.’

  ‘What about taking me out for a meal at the golf club, then? I haven’t been out for ages. I had to sit on my own with Simon all Christmas and all New Year as well.’

  ‘I can’t help it. I wanted to take you out, and I would have, if we’d been able to get a babysitter. It wouldn’t have hurt your mother to have had him so that you could have got to the works’ do, at least.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have hurt yours, either.’

  ‘She had the chance to go out with my dad. You can’t blame her for taking it.’

  ‘Huh! Maybe not! She doesn’t often get chances like that, does she? She’s usually right at the back of the queue.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  Lynn sensed the danger, but she couldn’t restrain herself. ‘It means he’s usually busy with other people’s wives, by all accounts.’ So there, she thought.

  Graham thrust his face threateningly near to hers. ‘Just leave my parents out of it, will you? They’ve done nothing to you. You’re doing all right, dossing about at home all day. You’ve got nothing to complain about.’

  ‘So you’re not going to be in for your dinner?’

  ‘No. I’m not going to be in for lunch. That’ll save you something on the housekeeping money.’

  ‘You can’t save money on stuff you’ve already bought and held over because somebody hasn’t come in for other meals. It goes off. So are you going to be in for te
a?’

  Graham put on his sheepskin coat and snatched up the distilled water and the Vaseline. Lynn repeated her question.

  ‘Maybe, maybe not. More likely not, if I’m going to get a plateful of something that’s been held over from other meals,’ he said.

  ‘Oh. At least I know where I stand, then,’ she said.

  ‘My dad? He called in yesterday, before he went home,’ Margaret said, and it was obvious from the expression on her face that Margaret hadn’t a clue what had happened.

  Lynn turned to her four noisy nephews, all clamouring for her attention. ‘What did Father Christmas bring you?’

  The answers came thick and fast. Cowboy hats, cowboy guns, jumpers, coats, gloves, socks, games, boxes of sweets – and a train set they all had to share.

  ‘Go and show Simon, then and let me and your mam have a cup of tea in peace for five minutes,’ she said.

  The boys bounded upstairs, with Simon following. As soon as they were out of earshot Lynn announced: ‘She’s hopped it. My mam. She’s left him!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He got home yesterday, and she was gone. She left a note, telling him she’s buggered off with somebody else. She’s done a bunkoff, Margaret. He came all the way up to Cottingham yesterday, to ask me if I knew anything. I thought he might have come here looking for Alec McCauley.’

  Margaret turned pale. ‘What for? Is it him she’s gone off with?’

  ‘No! But my dad thinks Alec might know who it is. I’m really worried about him, Margaret. Can I leave Simon with you for a bit? I just want to nip home, and make sure he’s all right.’

  ‘Why does he think Alec McCauley knows?’

  ‘I’ll tell you another time. Can I leave him?’

  ‘Well, I don’t think he’ll be sitting in the house, if my mam’s not there,’ Margaret said. ‘He’s not likely to find much out there, is he? Where would you go, if you wanted to find a mate?’

  ‘Rayners,’ said Lynn, ‘or Dee Street.’

  Margaret nodded.

  Lynn found herself repeating her father’s words: ‘You don’t look all that surprised, Margaret.’

  ‘Funny, i’n’t it? I’m not, really. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I’ve seen it coming, but I just had a feeling. She’s been . . . different, somehow, just lately. Anyway, try Rayners first, then the other pubs. I’ll come with you.’

  They left the boys with one of Jim’s sisters who lived within spitting distance, and walked the short distance to Rayners pub, a handsome building on a corner, properly styled the Star and Garter, according to the sign swinging high above and the gold lettering on the large windows. They went in by the Hessle Road entrance, into a choking fog of tobacco smoke, thick enough to make their eyes water. The place was packed and noisy as usual, with ‘Your Cheatin’ Heart’ wailing out of the juke box. The L-shaped bar, over twenty foot long on both sides, was lined with every conceivable cog in the wheel of the biggest deep-sea fishing industry in the world. Trawlermen and engineers and their sundry hangers-on rubbed shoulders with ship’s runners, bobbers, fish skinners, filleters and various allied trades, their fishy fragrances mingling with the stench of stale cigarette smoke – which reeked from them, the furnishings, and the very walls. Lynn’s eyes searched the room, taking in the two magnificent crystal chandeliers, sadly dulled by a film of nicotine, the polished tables, the padded stools and the upholstered benches which stretched the length of the walls beneath the windows. She spotted her dad in the distance, sitting near a window looking out onto West Dock Avenue with his arm around one of the few women in the place – none of them with much of a reputation to spoil. They made towards him.

  ‘Did you get to know anything, then?’ Lynn said.

  He was evidently the worse for drink and far from pleased to see her. ‘What about?’

  ‘Alec McCauley.’

  He returned his gaze to the street. ‘Not so far. You’d have been better off sticking with him. He’s a better bloke than the one you’re tied to.’

  ‘Simon loves his dad,’ she said, as if excusing herself for going back to Graham.

  ‘Humph.’

  She followed his line of vision to a steady stream of men going into the owner’s offices and coming out again, some jaunty and others less so, the mood depending on the amount of the settling, no doubt.

  ‘Did you go and see Brenda?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I suppose you were here till closing time yesterday, as well.’

  ‘No. I had a stroll up to Dee Street.’

  ‘Come home with me, Dad,’ Margaret pleaded. ‘I’ll get you some dinner.’

  ‘You’ve got enough to do looking after your own family.’

  ‘You are my family,’ Margaret said, and her eyes filled with tears.

  He saw it, and his expression softened.

  Lynn turned to the woman. ‘Give us five minutes, will you?’

  The woman looked at their father, waiting for his reaction.

  He jerked his head towards the door. She strolled away and put a coin in the juke box.

  ‘You should never have come here,’ he said, before she was out of earshot.

  ‘We were worried about you.’

  ‘You can cut that out. I don’t want any wet-nurses. I’ll look after my own business in my own way,’ he said, and the sudden glint in his eye forestalled any warnings about women like the one standing by the juke box, and all the rest of the well-meant advice Lynn had intended to give him.

  ‘Come for your tea, then,’ Margaret coaxed.

  He gave them a curt: ‘Cheerio, lasses,’ and beckoned his new friend.

  ‘Come for your tea, Dad,’ Margaret pleaded.

  He raised a hand, and dismissed them with a wave.

  ‘Bugger him, then, if that’s his attitude’ Lynn said, when they got outside. ‘I’ve galloped all the way down here in this bloody awful weather, and that’s what you get.’

  ‘You can’t blame him. He’s had a shock.’

  ‘He’s had a skinful as well, or he wouldn’t have had somebody like her draped round his neck, with her hands in his bloody pockets. She looks a treat, don’t she? Made for the job. He might get more than he bargains for off that one.’

  ‘I reckon he’s past caring,’ Margaret said. ‘I might go and sleep at his house with the lads, if he won’t come to mine. He’ll have to have his meals.’

  ‘I’d come myself, but I’d have to bring Simon, and if he came he’d soon be blabbing about my mother not being there to “Graham’s team”, as my dad calls ’em – and he doesn’t want to give ’em the satisfaction. Neither do I, come to that. Come on, let’s get back. I’m dying for a cup of tea and a ciggie,’ Lynn said, feeling annoyed at having to dump everything on Margaret, as usual.

  ‘I’d have thought the stink in Rayners would be enough to put anybody off smoking for life,’ Margaret said.

  Lynn ignored that. ‘It’s a bit breezy in Scotland,’ she commented as they passed a newspaper hoarding proclaiming that twenty people had been killed by falling masonry because of a ‘killer hurricane’ there.

  ‘Pity it’s not blowing through Rayners,’ Margaret said. ‘It would take a killer hurricane to get rid of the smoke in there.’

  Chapter 32

  They got off the bus in Cottingham, and walked home feeling pretty jaded, with Simon dragging his feet all the way. Graham’s car was in the driveway and the door was unlocked. Lynn pushed it open, and an eager, jolly, fat little puppy came bounding down the hallway towards them and jumped up at Simon. He laughed, and tried to grab hold of it, all signs of weariness and bad temper gone. The puppy was too quick for him, and dashed away again, to Graham.

  ‘What’s this?’ Lynn demanded, although it was perfectly obvious.

  ‘What’s it look like? It’s a puppy. A King Charles spaniel, to be exact.’

  ‘Whose is it?’

  ‘It’s ours.’

  Lynn shook her head. ‘It’s not ours. I’ve got to be careful of e
very penny, Graham. I could barely scrape the bus fare together to go and see my dad. You’re on at Simon not to scuff his shoes or spoil his clothes, and last Sunday when he wouldn’t eat his dinner you threatened to take the cost of it out of his money box because we couldn’t afford to waste food – so don’t come home with any puppies for us to feed!’

  ‘I thought you might have come home with a few parcels, if you’ve been to see your dad,’ Graham said. ‘Didn’t you take him shopping?’

  ‘I wasn’t in the mood.’

  ‘You missed a golden opportunity to save on the housekeeping, there, then,’ he said.

  ‘I did, didn’t I? But it’s up to you to help me save on the housekeeping. You’ll have to take that dog back where you found it.’

  ‘I can’t. I got her from one of the bosses’ wives – she breeds them. I got her cheap.’

  ‘I want to keep her,’ Simon said. ‘I want to call her Lassie.’

  Lynn was focused on Graham. ‘How cheap?’

  ‘Cheap enough.’

  ‘It can’t possibly be cheap enough when we can barely feed ourselves, Graham. What do you think they cost to feed? And what if it needs a vet?’

  ‘Well you’d better pull your finger out and find a job, then.’

  ‘All right, I’ll take a job cleaning. There’s a postcard in the newsagent’s – a woman just round the corner on Hull Road wants somebody a couple of mornings a week. She’s all right. Her son’s in the same class as Simon.’

  ‘You won’t take a job cleaning, and especially not round here! I’m not having anybody saying that my wife does their charring.’

  ‘Well, you find me a decent job that lets me get to school in time for Simon, and I’ll take it. I’ve looked, and there’s nothing. And if I get a job, we can’t have a dog. You can’t get animals and then leave them on their own all day, so take it back, and get your money back.’