There is a Season

by There is a Season (retail) (epu

  Cathy was worried too about the amount of the fine. Five pounds! Could it be paid by instalments? she wondered. She decided to ask John when he came downstairs, but when he appeared, wearing a clean shirt and an old pair of patched shoes, and supporting his left hand with his right, she forgot everything else at the sight of the pain on his damaged face.

  She started forward in alarm. ‘John, your hand? What happened to it?’

  ‘Two fingers broken, I think,’ he said. ‘They were aching all night and I’ve just knocked them, changing my shirt.’

  ‘You’ll have to go to the hospital,’ Cathy said, looking in horror at his swollen and misshapen hand.

  ‘I’ll have to go to the office first,’ he said. ‘Find out if I’ve got the sack.’

  ‘But you can’t!’ she exclaimed. ‘Not with your face like that. And you’ll have to go to the hospital right away with those fingers.’

  ‘They’ll have to wait,’ John said. ‘And I can’t stay off until my face is all right or I certainly will get the sack.’

  ‘Wait, until tomorrow at least,’ Cathy begged him.

  ‘No, I’d rather go in now and see where I stand,’ John said stubbornly. ‘If I get the sack I’ll go straight to the hospital, and if I don’t I’ll go on my way home.’

  Cathy insisted that he had a cup of tea and a cheese sandwich before he left, and as soon as he went hurried over to see her mother.

  ‘Greg called in,’ her mother said as soon as she appeared. ‘Thank God the lad was able to come home, anyway. I was afraid they’d send him to gaol.’

  ‘John’s gone into work. I didn’t think he should. He’s got a black eye and his fingers are broken, but he’s worried about his job.’

  ‘He’ll have to go to the hospital, surely,’ Sally exclaimed.

  ‘That’s what I said, but he said he’ll go to the office first to find out where he stands.’

  ‘Greg didn’t say John was hurt. He just said he was home and it was only a fine. Fancy that magistrate being at school with Greg.’

  ‘He didn’t tell me that,’ Cathy said. ‘He hardly spoke before he rushed off to work.’

  ‘Poor Greg, he must have felt small, but it probably helped with John. Peggy said all the others have gone to gaol.’

  ‘How does she know?’

  Sally shrugged. ‘How does Peggy know about anything? She’s got a talent for finding someone who knows someone else.’ She smiled but Cathy still looked serious.

  ‘John’s lost his good shoe,’ she said. ‘He had to go to work in a patched pair.’

  ‘If that’s the worst he’s got to worry about, he’ll be lucky,’ Sally said drily, then her face softened. ‘Poor lad. He doesn’t know what to be at. He can’t get over losing his grandad.’

  ‘I know,’ Cathy agreed. ‘He seems to have gone off the rails lately. He’s always out and he never says where he’s been. I think he’s with that wild crowd from that Club, but if I ask him he snaps my head off.’

  ‘Never mind, love. This might bring him to his senses,’ Sally comforted her.

  ‘I’m afraid it’ll mean more trouble between him and Greg,’ Cathy said. ‘I went to get water to bathe John’s face and I heard Greg ranting at him before he dashed off.’ She stood up. ‘I’d better get back in case he got the sack and comes home before he goes to the hospital.’

  ‘He must be in pain if his fingers are broken,’ Sally said.

  ‘He was. His hand looked terrible, all swollen and twisted. If it was anyone else, Greg would have been doing his First Aid stuff, but with John he didn’t bother at all.’

  Sally walked down the lobby with her and detained her by the door. ‘You can’t blame Greg for being vexed with John, Cathy,’ she said. ‘He’s got every right to be. Most fathers would have given the lad a good hiding instead of going to court to speak up for him.’

  ‘I suppose so, Mam,’ Cathy said, smiling briefly and turning away.

  Mam’s always on Greg’s side, she thought resentfully. Anyone would think he was her son instead of her son-in-law, and they both seem to forget that John’s a man now. Part of her resentment was due to the fact that Greg had told her mother more than he had told his wife, but she was unwilling to admit this, even to herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Cathy busied herself about the house, expecting John to arrive at any moment and tell her that he had lost his job, but Greg and Sarah arrived home before John appeared.

  Cathy greeted Greg coolly. She was still angry that he had not given her more information before dashing off to work, and determined not to ask for any details before he volunteered them. Greg seemed equally determined not to ask about his son after a quick glance at his empty place, even when he saw Cathy putting John’s dinner between two plates.

  Fortunately Sarah and Mick asked questions about what had happened at the court and why John was not at home now.

  ‘He’s probably at the hospital,’ Cathy said. ‘As well as the damage to his face, he had two broken fingers. His hand was in a dreadful state, all swollen, and he was in a lot of pain.’ She darted a reproachful glance at Greg as she spoke, but he continued to eat his meal without making any comment. A little later John arrived home. His fingers had been heavily bandaged and supported in a sling, and the bruising round his eye was even more noticeable.

  By this time Mick and Sarah had both gone out and Cathy and Greg were alone in the kitchen. John ignored his father, went to his mother and kissed her.

  ‘Sorry I’m late, Mum,’ he said. ‘I went to look for my shoe after I’d been to the hospital but I couldn’t find it.’

  ‘What happened at the office?’ Cathy asked anxiously.

  ‘I had to go to see old Meredith,’ John said. ‘He read me a lecture a mile long but he was all right really. Just a reprimand. Lucky it’s my left hand so I can still write. The fellows pulled my leg about this black eye.’

  Greg had been sharpening a pencil on to a newspaper resting on his knee. He stood up and shook the shavings into the fire, then walked into the parlour without a word. Cathy cut up the meat on John’s plate so that he was able to eat his meal, and suggested that they should go to see his grandmother when he was finished.

  She hesitated in the lobby and then looked into the parlour where Greg was sitting listening to a record on the gramophone.

  ‘Just going over to Mam’s to tell her what’s happened,’ she said shortly.

  ‘Right. Will you tell her the wood’ll be delivered tomorrow, please?’ Greg said. Cathy nodded and followed John over to her mother’s house. At least John could be sure of sympathy there, she thought as she walked down the lobby and heard Sally and Josh exclaiming in horror at the sight of his hand and eye.

  When Cathy and John returned, Greg was sitting in the kitchen reading, and John went straight upstairs to bed.

  ‘Did you remember about the wood?’ Greg asked.

  ‘Yes. Mam said she’ll be glad of a new drainboard. She doesn’t fancy using that one now it’s split,’ Cathy said. For both of them the wood served as an uncontroversial subject that enabled them to speak to each other without mentioning John.

  For a while they sat in silence, Cathy knitting and Greg reading, then he closed his book.

  ‘I’m going to insist on changes here, Cathy,’ he said quietly. ‘In future I’ll want to know where John is and who he’s with. I’m not having any repetition of what happened today.’

  ‘You can’t treat him like a prisoner,’ she said angrily. ‘Just because he was unlucky enough to be caught up in that trouble last night. He was only standing up for what he believes in.’

  ‘He wasn’t “caught up” in anything. He was a ringleader, shouting through a loud hailer to try to incite trouble. I saw some of his so-called friends today, and I’ll see he keeps away from fellows like that in future.’

  ‘Unemployed, were they?’ Cathy taunted him. ‘You might have been one of them yourself if you hadn’t been lucky enough to have Josh speak for y
ou for a job.’

  Greg face grew red with anger. ‘I don’t know why it is that any time I speak about John you turn on me like a tigress. You just can’t bear to hear him criticized.’

  ‘I should be well used to you criticizing him,’ she flared, ‘you’ve done it all his life. He just can’t do anything right as far as you’re concerned.’

  ‘And he can’t do wrong in your eyes,’ Greg said furiously. ‘But I’ve had enough. He’ll toe the line and behave himself, or get out.’

  ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Cathy said. ‘The further away the better, as far as you’re concerned. Just because he’s got the courage to stand up for what he believes in.’

  ‘It’s a waste of time trying to talk reasonably to you about him,’ Greg exclaimed angrily. ‘But I mean what I say. He’ll either behave himself or get out of this house, and I intend to tell him so.’

  ‘You do – you drive him out, Greg Redmond – and we’re finished. I’ll never speak to you again.’

  They were shouting by this time and suddenly the kitchen door was flung open and John appeared, wearing pyjamas.

  ‘Stop it,’ he yelled.

  ‘Clear off and mind your own business,’ Greg shouted, but John turned on him.

  ‘It is my business. You’re talking about me. I’m not having you bullying Mam on my account.’

  Greg’s face was purple with rage. ‘Don’t you speak to me like that, you impudent swine! Defending your mother from me. You’ve shown a lot of concern for her, haven’t you?’

  Mick came walking down the lobby as John and his father were both on their feet yelling, and his mother was also shouting ‘John, John,’ and trying to push him towards the door.

  ‘Is this a private fight or can anyone join in?’ Mick asked cheerfully. He was astounded when his father swung round and gave him a box on the ear.

  ‘Don’t you start,’ Greg yelled. ‘I’m having no impudence from you, either.’

  Mick looked at him in amazement, his hand to his ear, and John snarled, ‘That’s right. Pick on him. Why don’t you hit someone your own size. Hit me.’

  He squared up to his father who raised his fist, but Cathy stepped between them, gripping Greg’s arm.

  She turned her head to shout at John as Sarah came down the lobby and stopped, horrified at the tableau.

  ‘What’s up? What’s happening?’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Don’t ask,’ Mick advised her. ‘I tried to cool them down and got a clout on my ear for my trouble.’

  Sarah dived into the group, pushing her father and John apart with a hand on each, then flinging her arms round her mother. Cathy burst into tears and Sarah said furiously, ‘What are you doing to Mum?’

  The angry colour left Greg’s face. He grew pale, and sat down heavily in his chair.

  ‘Go to bed,’ Sarah ordered John as she helped her mother to her chair and knelt down beside her. He turned and went meekly out of the room, and Sarah ordered Mick to put the kettle on for tea.

  ‘Don’t cry, Mum,’ she said, kneeling with her arms round her mother and shooting angry glances at her father. Greg sat with his head bent, looking at the floor, his hands clasped between his knees.

  Sarah took a bottle of aspirins from a cupboard in the back kitchen, and gave two and a mug of tea to Mick. ‘Take those up to our John, but don’t talk about all this,’ she instructed him. ‘Just ask him if he’s going to work tomorrow.’

  She poured four cups of tea and took the tray into the kitchen. Her parents both accepted the tea with a murmured thanks, and Mick came down and picked up his cup. ‘Can I take a piece of fruit cake, Mum?’

  ‘Yes, and you take some too, Sarah,’ Cathy said quietly.

  ‘I don’t want any, thanks,’ Sarah said. ‘I had some supper in Edie’s.’ She drank her tea quickly and made a sign to Mick, and they both said goodnight to their parents and went to bed.

  After they had gone, Cathy leaned back in her chair with her eyes closed while Greg stood up and wound the clock on the mantelpiece. His face was pale and he looked unutterably weary, but he bent and laid his hand on Cathy’s.

  ‘I’m sorry, Cath,’ he said. ‘Come to bed, love.’

  She stood up without a word and closed the damper in the fire while Greg locked the door, and they both went wearily upstairs. They undressed in silence, but when they were in bed he said suddenly, ‘I regret striking Mick. He was only trying to help.’

  ‘I know,’ Cathy said. She seemed too tired to say more and after murmured goodnights they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Greg was awakened by Sarah’s hand on his shoulder. She put her finger to her lips and indicated her mother who was still soundly asleep, then held up Greg’s pocket watch to him. He looked in dismay at the time. Sarah crept from the room while he jumped up and dressed, taking care not to waken Cathy.

  When he went downstairs Sarah had made tea, and wrapped sandwiches and cake for his lunch. Neither of them mentioned John but a used cup and plate on the table showed that he had had his breakfast and gone to work.

  Sarah started work later than Greg and she said that she would waken Mick before she left so that he could look after Kate if Cathy still slept.

  Cathy woke and came to the head of the stairs in her nightdress as Sarah was in the lobby putting on her hat.

  ‘Have they gone, love? Dad and John,’ she said anxiously.

  ‘Yes, Mum. I did tea and toast for them and Dad’s sandwiches,’ Sarah said. ‘I’ll have to go or I’ll be late.’ She ran upstairs and impulsively kissed Cathy. ‘Don’t worry, Mam,’ she said, hugging her mother.

  ‘You’re a good girl,’ Cathy said, her eyes filling with tears.

  Sarah walked rapidly along the street, feeling a black cloud of depression settling on her. Why was everything so horrible? she thought miserably. Grandad gone, and everybody quarrelling and snarling at each other, and Michael not bothering even to speak to her now. No matter how much she told herself she didn’t give tuppence for him, she knew she had only to see him and she was filled with love for him.

  And Mabel with her daily announcements of people who had died in the neighbourhood! Anne said Mabel was only trying to make her feel better because she wasn’t the only one who had been bereaved, but Sarah felt that if Mabel announced another death today, she would scream at the top of her voice.

  Fortunately only Anne was in the shop. She said Mabel had gone to the Dispensary to have a boil on her neck lanced.

  ‘Thank God,’ Sarah said. ‘I hope they keep her a long time. I just couldn’t stand her going on about deaths today.’

  ‘As bad as that, is it?’ Anne said sympathetically.

  ‘Worse,’ Sarah said. ‘Our house is upside down and everyone at each other’s throats because of these barmy ideas of our John’s. You should see his face, and his hand was in a sling this morning. He said he’s broken two fingers.’

  ‘It’s a pity he doesn’t start courting, keep his mind off politics,’ Anne said. ‘But he doesn’t seem interested in girls, does he?’ Her face coloured as she spoke and Sarah glanced at her. Don’t tell me Anne’s going to fall for our John, she thought. That would be the last straw, if I had to worry about her as well.

  Aloud she said carelessly, ‘No. He’s just wrapped up in this business.’

  She was slightly cheered later when Michael came in for his pie. The girls had new green overalls, and as Sarah handed the paper bag to Michael, he said quietly, ‘That colour suits you.’ There was no time for further speech as she and Anne were frantically busy without Mabel’s help, but Sarah thought constantly about his words and his smile as she dashed about the shop, and went home in a happier frame of mind.

  She had been kept late at the shop and when she reached home found that John and her father had both had their meal and gone out. ‘Dad’s gone to the St John’s Ambulance,’ her mother told her. ‘I don’t know where John’s gone.’

  John had gone defiantly to the Club. He wondered what his re
ception would be as he was free when so many others were in gaol, but found he was regarded as a hero by the younger men. He was still bitter towards his father and told his friends that he intended to leave home, and asked if any of them knew of a room to let.

  Later he was called into an inner room with some of the older more experienced men and asked to tell all that had happened. He enjoyed telling them about his speech at the meeting and what had followed, telling them how angry he was that his father had interfered and paid his fine.

  He also told them that he had quarrelled with his father and intended to leave home as soon as possible, but was surprised to be told that he should continue to live at home. ‘You’ll be a marked man for a while,’ one of the men told him. ‘Stay at home, keep your head down, and don’t have any more rows.’

  John protested and was asked if he had read about what was happening in Spain. The legally elected government of the Popular Front was being opposed by General Franco, who had called upon the caretaker Prime Minister to declare a state of war to prevent the Popular Front taking power. He had been exiled to the Canary Isles, but John was told that might not be the end of it. Workers of the world might need to unite to help their comrades.

  ‘But what’s that got to do with me?’ he asked, bemused.

  ‘You’d want to help, wouldn’t you?’ a man said. ‘So keep your nose clean and your head down until you’re called for.’

  John walked home feeling as though he was treading on air: to be accepted by these men as one of them, men who had experienced hard labour and trouble in other parts of the world, and who talked of international affairs as knowledgeably as about matters in England.