‘Not very nice to listen to, is it?’ said James Cordwell and looked at the American guest who shook his head, his face pale. ‘I still think of her as my little girl. Have you any sons, Richard?’
Dickie glanced at his son but shook his head.
‘Like me, only daughters, eh? It was a grand day for me when Win produced young Johnny.’
‘I haven’t any children at all,’ replied Dick.
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ Cordwell sympathised.
No it isn’t, thought Dickie, trying to block his ears to another scream. I’m glad she can’t have any. I’d never want Dusty to go through that.
‘My uncle’s hoping to adopt young Freddie out there,’ Nick explained.
Cordwell hoisted his glass. ‘Oh well, I wish you every happiness.’
Dickie tossed back his whisky and muttered thanks. The gaps between the agonised wails were becoming shorter. There came yet another. ‘Mother o’ mercy, what’re they doing to the poor girl?’
‘Don’t worry yourself, Uncle.’ Nick sipped his drink in blase fashion. ‘It’s quite a normal birth.’
‘Normal?! My God … I think I’ll take a walk round the yard.’ Dickie left.
Nick smiled at his father-in-law. ‘I thought I was bad enough. You’d think he was the expectant father.’
Even in the two-acre garden Dickie could not escape the sound of Win’s birthpangs. Stomach taut, he wandered along the different paths, trying to get as far away as possible from the house. As this cigarette was extinguished another was lighted. He could think only of Dusty screaming that way.
‘What’s she making all that din for?’ Dickie looked around but could see nobody. ‘I’m over here.’ Frederick waved from his hideout in an untidy corner of the garden. ‘I’ve made a camp.’ He crawled out from behind a leaning clump of Golden Rod to join his adoptive father.
Dickie eyed the green bits in the boy’s hair and used a hand to brush them out. ‘Been spying on me, have ye?’
‘What’s spying?’
‘Watching me when I didn’t know you were there, seeing what I did.’ He narrowed his eyes against the evening sun and the cigarette smoke, viewing the lanes of delphiniums gone to seed, the petal-strewn earth.
Frederick went back to his original question. ‘What’s she making all that row for?’ Dickie did not respond. The boy’s face turned worried. ‘I think she’s having a tooth pulled. I once heard somebody shout like that and they were having a tooth pulled. It must be a big’n though, she’s been shouting for ages … he won’t come and take mine out, will he?’
‘Who?’ Dickie seemed confused.
‘That dentist fella.’
Dickie looked down at the concerned free and decided to be honest. ‘She’s not having a tooth out, Fred. She’s having a baby.’
‘Oh.’ It was said in wonder. ‘But… why’s she screaming, then? Women like babies, don’t they?’
Dickie teased a strand of tobacco from his tongue. ‘Aye, but… they take a bit o’ trouble in getting out.’
‘Out o’ the bag, you mean?’
‘Er…’ Dickie was about to say yes, when another scream changed his mind. ‘No, Fred, out o’ the woman’s belly.’
‘Heck.’ This was obviously a great revelation. ‘Do they have to cut her open, then?’
‘No, it just comes out between her legs, but it takes a lotta work to shove it out an’ that’s why Win’s screaming.’
Frederick picked a ladybird from a leaf and let it run from one grubby finger to another. ‘Out of her bum, you mean? Blimey, I wouldn’t like a baby coming out o’ my bum, would you?’
Dick chuckled. ‘I would not … but ’tis not exactly her bum, it’s just a special place that only women have.’
‘Oh … well, how does it get there in the first place – the baby, I mean?’
That was predictable. ‘The man plants his seed in her special place an’ it grows into a baby.’
‘But how … ?’
Dickie scrabbled for words. ‘Look, ye know what your prick is?’
‘Yes, I did prick meself with a needle once.’
‘No, no! The thing ye keep in your trousers.’
The boy was thoughtful, mentally listing the items in his trouser pocket.
Dickie heaved a sigh. ‘Your prick, man – your willie or whatever ye call it.’
‘Oh, that!’
‘God love us! Yes, that.’
Fred covered a smirk. ‘You’re rude!’
‘It’s not rude. It’s what ye use to plant babies in women – but not till you’re married, understand? I want no son of mine …’ Bloody hell, I sound just like my father, thought Dickie. He dropped the cigarette end and mashed it into the crazy paving.
Freddie nodded in pleased manner. ‘I never knew that, Dad.’ Still thoughtful, he uncrumpled the bag he was holding and dipped into it.
‘Well I’m sure glad I can teach ye something. What ye got there?’
‘Gums. That nice woman Jane gimme them.’
‘Let’s see.’ Dick snatched the bag.
‘Aw, I was saving the black ones till last!’ objected Freddie as the sweet disappeared into the man’s mouth. ‘They’re my favourites.’
‘Sorry, Fred.’ Dick selected another black one. ‘I have special dispensation from the Pope to eat all the black ’uns.’
‘What’s dispensation?’
Dick was quite at home explaining the facts of life, but words were a different matter. ‘You’re too little to understand.’ He purloined the last black gum and handed the bag back.
Fred looked hopefully inside, but was disappointed. However, he had learnt two valuable lessons here: one about babies, the other was not to trust his father. He screwed the bag up. ‘She must’ve had it.’
Dickie stopped chewing. ‘What?’
‘She must’ve had the baby, the yelling’s stopped.’
Dickie cocked his ear. ‘So it has.’ He grinned and began to chew again. ‘Come on, let’s go see what she’s had.’ Fred was not really interested, but walked back to the house with his father.
‘It’s another boy,’ said James Cordwell cheerfully as they entered. ‘Nick’s gone up.’
Dickie gave a relieved smile. He was about to suggest a celebratory drink when Nick returned; he was carrying a bundle.
‘Meet James Nicholas, Grandfather.’ He placed the bundle in his father-in-law’s arms.
James Cordwell beamed down at his namesake who was quite alert. ‘Why, thank you for the honour! How’s my girl?’
Nick smoothed his blond hair. ‘It was a pretty quick exit, I’m afraid. She’s just waiting for the doctor to put some stitches in – oh … it sounds as though he’s started.’ The horrible wails had begun again – were even more ghastly to Dickie’s ears.
He felt sick, both at the screams and at the fact that the man over there was holding his grandson. It should have been a time of jubilation, but all he could do was watch from the sidelines. Anger flared. ‘The bloody butcher! What’s he doing to her?’
Cordwell looked up from the wrinkled face of his grandson, amazed that Nick’s uncle should be so sensitive. However, at this point Sonny arrived to see how things were progressing.
‘Good Lord!’ He stared at the new infant. ‘That was quick. I only came to see how things were going and report back to your mother. She said she wouldn’t bother coming as it’d be ages yet.’ He came forward as Cordwell offered him the baby.
Nick explained the noise. ‘Win’s just having some stitches in.’
‘Poor lass.’ Sonny cradled the new addition. ‘What is it then, boy or girl?’
‘A boy,’ said Nick. ‘James Nicholas.’
His father nodded smilingly. ‘He’s like you, James; bald as a coot.’
Cordwell laughed, then excused himself to go to the lavatory. Nick wandered over to stand beside his father, both smiling proudly at the newborn.
‘I know where babies come from.’ Their faces came up to look at Frede
rick. ‘Me dad told me,’ said the boy.
‘I’ve warned him not to go abusing his role,’ added Dick. Sonny showed amusement at first, then saw the underlying emotion on his brother’s face and understood how he must be feeling. He came over and placed the baby in Dick’s arms. ‘There you are, cop hold of that.’
Overcome by this act of generosity, Dickie resorted to bluffness. ‘God, he’s an ugly wee brute.’
His brother laughed and glanced at Nick for reaction, but his son’s back was turned.
Dickie poked about among the blankets and examined the baby’s hands. ‘Christ, look at the length o’ these – them’s pickpocket’s fingers!’
Nick stepped forward. ‘I’d better be getting him back upstairs or I’ll be in bother.’ He scooped the child from Dickie’s grasp, leaving the man standing there lamely.
When he returned, Sonny said, ‘Well, I’d better go home and tell your mother and telephone your Nan, they’ll want to come tomorrow, no doubt.’
‘Oh… can you possibly put Nan off for a few days?’ asked Nick, pulling his earlobe. ‘I don’t mind, but Win finds her a bit overpowering at times and well, you know what women are like if they think somebody’s trying to take over.’
‘I know all about it,’ said his father. ‘I’ve had it all to face from your mother when the girls were born. Tell Win not to worry, she’ll have a few days’ leeway before having to face the clan. ’Bye then, I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Dick said goodbye, then looked down at the boy who was yawning. ‘Looks like this one should be in bed.’
‘Ah yes,’ said Nick. ‘I’ll get Jane to take him up.’ He pulled the bell-rope. ‘I’m sorry I’ve only got the one bed, Uncle.’
‘Ye mean I have to sleep with him?’ Dickie was aghast.
‘You might have been lucky enough to furnish your house in one go, but most of us have to do a bit at a time.’
The maid arrived, saying that the doctor was leaving. While her master went off to see the man, Dickie pushed Fred from his seat. ‘Come on, Tiny Tim, time for bed.’
Fred, conversant with Dickens’ novels, said indignantly, ‘Tiny Tim’s a cripple.’
‘And if you don’t go to bed you’ll be one too.’ Dickie gave him to the care of the maid. He himself remained to chat with the Cordwells and Nick for a while. When Win’s parents went home, though, the young man made it clear that he didn’t wish to talk any more and Dickie rose. ‘Well … I suppose I’d better hit the hay.’
‘Here, take a lamp.’ Nick lifted the fluted globe of a paraffin lamp, lit the wick and handed it over.
Dickie thanked him, then said hesitantly, ‘Nick … ye won’t give me away, will ye?’ The young man looked blank. ‘To the police. Ye won’t tell them where I am?’
With a snort, Nick thrust his hands deep into his pockets. ‘And that just about sums up your opinion of me.’
Dickie waved his hand rapidly. ‘No, no – I’d understand it if ye felt that way.’
Nick looked tired. ‘Some of us have a little more loyalty to our families than others.’
‘Sorry … but I have caused a lot o’ trouble for ye.’
‘Would I have said you can stay here if I felt that way?’
‘Ye just seem … as if it’s too much effort to talk to me.’
‘It is, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to have you arrested. So… you can go to sleep and not worry about anything, can’t you, Uncle?’
Dickie studied him for a moment, then, holding the lamp before him said goodnight and wound his way up the shadowy staircase.
At the door of his room he turned the lamp down and crept inside. Undressing, he turned the lamp out altogether and slid into bed beside the boy.
‘What time is it?’
Dickie sighed and made himself more comfortable. ‘I thought you were asleep! I’ve been creeping about…’
‘I stayed awake for you.’ When Dickie said how kind this was, Fred asked the time again and was told eleven o’clock. He seemed pleased. ‘I have to go to bed at half past seven at home.’
‘Well don’t think ye’ll be stopping up this late every night. ’Tis only because o’ the baby.’
There was a thoughtful pause. Then, ‘Tell me again how babies get there.’
‘If ye’ve forgotten already I don’t give much for your chances o’ being a father.’ Eyes closed, Dickie gave a briefer version of the facts of life.
After a moment the little voice said, ‘You know, I think you must be wrong about the husband putting it there, Dad. You see, our real mam wasn’t married, we’ve never had a father.’
Dickie said that she must have had an admirer, then, but the boy refuted this. ‘Ah well, you must’ve been one o’ them miracle babies, Fred.’ His bed mate asked for explanation. ‘A gift from God – now shut up and get to sleep.’
‘Night night, then.’
‘Night.’
A pause. ‘Dad?’
A heavy sigh. ‘What?’
‘Will you kiss me?’
‘Oh … bloody hell!’ Dickie turned his head to plant a smacking kiss on the boy’s cheek. ‘Now go to sleep!’
‘Night, night.’
‘Night, night!’ Dickie gave a violent turn and settled down to sleep … then smiled into his pillow as a hand patted his bottom.
19
He wasn’t smiling much the next morning when the maid announced that some gentlemen from the police were in the hall. Panic ensued, until Nick took charge, giving Jane instructions and leading his uncle by another door to the dining room. Once this door closed on them, Jane admitted the police, allowing Nick and his uncle to dash out into the hall and up the stairs.
Win was breastfeeding the new baby when her husband and Dickie broke in on her. Fortuitously, the midwife had gone down for her breakfast. ‘I’m sorry about this, Win!’ Nick lifted the overhanging coverlet for his uncle to crawl underneath the bed. ‘If any more strange men barge in on you, just smile and look radiant.’
He dashed off to meet the deputation who informed him they had a warrant to search the house for a wanted man. Coolly, he voiced the opinion that they would find no one but they could search the house if they wished. ‘But please show consideration for my wife; she has just given birth to our son and I don’t wish her to be upset.’
Having gone through the ground floor rooms the officers duly moved upstairs. Dick lay on the hard linoleum under Win’s bed, staring up at the springs, waiting and listening. The door opened. He tensed.
Apologising to Win who had hurriedly covered her breast at their entry, the officers made cursory examination of the room, then left. Dickie breathed again. Win, too, relaxed.
However, when Nick came to say the coast was now clear he informed his uncle that another officer had remained outside in the guise of a roadsweeper. Whether any of them liked it or not Dick was here for a while.
* * *
There was little to laugh about, either, when the family came over two days later. A struggle took place as to who would get to him first. Belle was the one to win the honour and by the time her grandmother entered the room, was well and truly into a verbal thrashing. Dusty stood there looking furious, but not as furious as Erin who had only recently been told about Brian catching her brother in Belle’s bedroom, so ruining all hopes of a truce.
‘Belle, can’t it wait!’ censured Thomasin. ‘At least till we’ve seen Win – it is her house, you know.’
Belle stopped shouting, but narrowed her eyes at Dickie and told him she hadn’t finished with him yet.
He turned penitent eyes to his wife. ‘Sorry, Dust… have ye brought some things for me?’
She sighed and kissed him, handing over a valise. ‘Yes, here’s some clothes and your razor and stuff.’ Here, Nick muttered thanks; his razor didn’t feel the same after his uncle had used it. When Dick asked about finances she told him, ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you’d be wanting any … I mean you won’t be going anywhere with a police guard outside, will
you? Here, you can have this loose change to buy cigarettes. Now, where’s Freddie?’ With sickened features Dickie pocketed the coins and told her the boy was probably in the garden. She said she would go look for him when she came down, but right now she must go and see the new baby. The rest of the family accompanied her, all except Belle who took the opportunity to lay into her uncle again about the boy’s kidnap.
‘Honest, Belle, I never took him,’ pleaded Dickie. ‘He followed me.’
‘And what about my money and my food, did they follow you too?’
‘I didn’t think you’d mind helping a …’
‘I do mind. I mind being robbed and I mind being called a woman of loose morals by my landlord!’
‘Surely that’s due to Brian, not me. I only stayed at your house the once. Have ye seen anything of him, by the way?’
‘No! And we’re talking about you and Freddie.’
‘I really can’t see what harm it’ll do to let him stay here for the time being.’
‘Can’t you? What happens if the police decide to search again and arrest you? Imagine the impression that would leave on him, especially if you were convicted. I rue the sentimental twaddle that allowed me to even consider you for the adoption, and I detest the idea that it’s going to have to be me who dashes their hopes … but rather a moment’s hurt than a lifetime’s.’
‘What about my hopes?’ demanded her uncle. ‘Dusty’s hopes.’
Belle was dismissive. ‘They’re not the same as those of a child. She’ll recover after a time, but if Freddie is led on like this it could affect his whole life.’
‘And ye think it won’t affect Dusty? Christ, Belle, you’ve seen the way she is with those kids … if ye knew what you were doing to her… Don’t tell her ye’ve changed your mind, please.’ She didn’t respond. ‘I’d’ve thought you’d sympathise with her, not having given birth yourself.’
‘I’m not sure I understand.’
‘Well, isn’t that what every woman wants? It must have been a disappointment in your life.’
Dickie (Feeney Family Sagas Book 4) Page 43
