‘Oh, Bill, what’s the matter with you? You used to like him. When you first got to know him you thought he was a splendid fellow.’
‘Yes, perhaps; but I’ve changed me mind since he started visiting you, and knowin’ that you more than like him.’
‘I don’t more than like him. You know something? I…I feel he’s lonely.’
‘Oh, my God!’ As if he had been prodded with a fork, Bill rose from the couch. ‘Don’t take that tack. My, he has got to you.’
‘Bill.’ She brought her legs from the couch and, pushing herself upwards, she said, ‘You’ve got to stop this. It…it upsets me that you should go on like this.’ When her voice broke she was immediately in his arms and he was saying, ‘Aw, love. I’m sorry. I am really. But I’m worried sick. I want to be with you all the time an’ I’ve got to be on the job. And there I come in and he’s sittin’ an’ you’re natterin’ away as happy as Larry. And it’s at that time I should be happy for you. But let’s face it, I suppose it’s the old inferiority complex escaping.’
Fiona stared into his rugged face. Inferiority complex. That’s the last thing anyone would imagine could be tacked on to this boisterous and, let her now face it, loud-mouthed individual. The man who had bragged he was the middle-of-the-road man where women were concerned; neither the young nor the old were going to catch him. And this was true. He had only come to her as a lodger to escape the attentions of his middle-aged landlady. But what did one know really about the make-up of another, even someone as close as he was to her? Inferiority complex. That was the first time she had heard him use that term; but being Bill, he knew himself better than anyone else did.
She now took his face between her hands and in a voice that was soft and full of caring, she said, ‘Bill, there’ll never be anyone in my life but you. Never. Even if you walked out tomorrow, no-one could or would replace you. I love you as I never thought to love anyone in my life. In fact, I didn’t know what love was until I met you. All I want in life is to make you happy.’
He said nothing; he just stared at her for a moment, then dropped his head onto her shoulder, and she held him close, as close as her stomach would allow.
‘Here’s your tea, sweet and strong…and stop necking.’
They drew apart, and he turned to Katie, saying, ‘Thanks love. And…there’ll never be another you. I heard that on the radio comin’ over. It’s a nice song. Suits you.’
‘Flatterer. What do you want me to do? Get out and leave you two alone?’ She looked at her mother and said, ‘Mam, I think we had better have dinner because that shepherd’s pie will soon need a crook to dig it out of the dish; from what I gathered when I opened the oven door it’s going dry.’
‘Well, call the rest, dear, we’ll have it now. And you’—she pointed to Bill—‘don’t blame me if you have indigestion after eating meat on top of tea. Come on,’ she said, taking his hand now, ‘give me a hand to carry in the dishes.’
‘Carry in the dishes, she said,’ said Katie, looking at Bill. ‘She needs somebody to carry her in, doesn’t she? What do you bet she doesn’t go the full time?’
‘Katie, please!’
‘Your bet’s on. I bet you…what?’ Bill pursed his lips. ‘Five quid that she goes to the very day.’
‘Five quid.’
‘Pounds, Katie.’
‘All right, five quid, or five pounds, that’s a lot of money. I’ll have to take it out of my bank.’
‘Well, are you on or off?’
‘I’m on. And that means if it’s before or after you pay me.’
‘Aw, now you’re stretching it! Before, you were willing to bet it would be before. Well what about it?’
‘Meanie. All right, you’re on. Mam.’ She turned to Fiona. ‘You put a spurt on; I can’t afford to lose five pounds.’
‘No dear; you can’t; and with Christmas coming,’ said Fiona as they went across the hall. And, looking at Bill, she added under her breath, ‘Pity I didn’t arrange things better. I could have given you a Christmas box then.’
Dinner was over; the children had washed up and were now upstairs in the playroom, and Bill was again settled behind his desk in the study and Fiona seated in the big leather chair to the side of the fire. She stopped her knitting when Bill stopped writing and looked at her, saying, ‘I set four new ones on this mornin’, and it amazes me that with all the unemployed in this town there aren’t men queueing up for jobs. And of the four there was only one who really showed any interest. Apparently he had been a clerk and was in his late forties, but he said he had been on the dole for two and a half years and would be willing to try to turn his hand to anything. The other three seem to have been in and out of jobs like yo-yos. “Why did you leave your last job?” I asked one. “Well it was the travelling. You see, mister, I never got in until half past six at night and by the time you have a meal and a wash it was practically the next mornin’, and I had to leave at seven again. That was no life.” God in heaven!’
‘Yes, but how are things otherwise? I mean the schedule and so on.’
‘Oh, the schedule. We seem to be a bit ahead. And the board seems well satisfied. We had a contingent round yesterday but some of them ask bloody silly questions though. What would be the saving if you could cut down on this, that, or the other? I answered one particular gentleman bluntly by saying, “inferior buildings”. Another asked why we put lime with the cement. So you could pick the pointing out between the bricks with your fingers, I said to that one, and he believed me; I had to put him straight. Some blokes feel they must say something no matter how stupid. The fact is we’ve been through all this in the boardroom, minutely and minutely…There’s the bell. Who can this be at half past eight? Your mother likely to say she’s not going to America, or will I accompany her. Now sit where you are; I’ll go and see who it is, that’s if one of the squad doesn’t get there first.’
None of the squad appeared in the hall, and when he opened the door it was to see Davey Love standing there.
‘Hello, boss. I’m sorry to trouble you.’
Bill suppressed a sigh and said, ‘Come in. Come in, Davey.’
‘It’s a cold night; cut the ears off you.’
‘Yes, it is,’ said Bill. ‘We are in the study. There’s a proper fire in there, not artificial logs; come along.’
As they entered the study Bill said, ‘Here’s Davey. Fiona. He wants a word.’
‘Oh, hello, Davey. Do sit down.’
‘Ma’am, I feel I’m intrudin’, but it’s of necessity. You know what I mean?’
‘Well, she will when you tell us why you’re intruding. Sit down, man.’
Davey sat on a straight-backed chair, a hand on each knee, his cap dangling from one. He leant forward more towards Fiona than to Bill and said, ‘’Tis a delicate subject that I’m about to bring up, but I’m troubled. And knowin’ me, it isn’t often, you know, that I’d be lost for words, but at this minute, as God’s me judge, they’re all stickin’ in me gullet afraid to jump out an’ into me mouth in case they upset you, ma’am…’cos, you see, ’tis about your own ma I would speak.’
Fiona, resisting casting a glance in Bill’s direction, said, ‘Don’t be afraid to speak about my mother, Mr Love.’
‘Well, even with your permission, ma’am, I’m still chary of utterin’ me thoughts. But afore I begin I’d like to stress this point. Aye, I would, an’ it’s this: me thoughts aren’t made up of ’magination in this case; there’s no Irish blarney coatin’ the facts. The fact is, ma’am, that your ma…your mother has got the wrong end of the stick. Aw, begod! Begod! How can I put it?’
‘I’ll put it for you, Davey. You mean she’s been chasing you?’
Davey looked at Bill for a moment; then his gaze dropping away and his head swinging from side to side, he said, ‘’Tis a rough way to put it, boss, but that’s the top an’ bottom of it. And’—he raised his eyes now and looked at Fiona—‘I’m scared. I am. An’ that’s a strange thing to come from me
lips, at least with regard to women, ’cos I’ve never been scared of a woman in me life. I get on with women, and I suppose that’s the trouble in this case. But you see…well, how can I put it, ma’am, but I thought she was only bein’ motherly. An’ what man, I ask you, would say he didn’t want a woman of her calibre to be motherly? ’Twas a nice feelin’ at first: there was the table set all ready for the lad’s tea, and mine an’ all, when I come in. And there was me washin’ sent out to the laundry. Begod!’ He now slanted his gaze towards Bill adding, ‘Don’t those bug…I mean, those laundry blokes, charge? You could get a new shirt for what you have to pay for their washin’ an’ ironin’. It must be the pins they stick in that put the price up.’ He gave a small grin now. ‘But, give the devil his due, I’ve never been so clean in me life afore. As for the youngster, he’s become sick of the sight of soap, for she’s had him washin’ his hands when he went to the lav. Well, ’tis only right, I suppose’—he was nodding his head now—‘in that case. But afore his tea and after his tea! She was even there at times in the mornin’, afore he went out to school, examinin’ his nails. It got that way that I hoped he’d give her a mouthful, you know the way he used to an’ that would’ve put her off. But now I don’t think it would have. She’s a tenacious woman, your ma.’
Fiona felt the child inside her wobble, and she had the greatest desire to stop herself from bursting forth in high, almost hysterical laughter. She blinked her eyelids a number of times as she looked at the big raw Irishman now appealing to her, saying, ‘What am I goin’ to do, ma’am?’
‘Get yourself a woman. Bring one in.’
‘Oh Bill!’ Fiona shook her head.
‘Never mind “Oh Bill”!’ Bill was nodding at Davey now. ‘That’s what to do. Be cheerful about it. Introduce her to Mrs Vidler. That’ll knock the nail right on the head.’
‘You know, boss, them were me very thoughts at times, but, you see, the Crescent isn’t the kind of place that you do that kind of thing, is it? They’re nearly all old dears an’ highly respectable people an’ they’ve been very kind, I mean…well, they’ve been very civil to me an’ the lad. Of course, it was all ’cos of the papers, you know, an’ makin’ Sammy out to be a hero an’ all that twaddle. They fell over themselves at first; not so much now, you know; but still they’ve been very civil. An’ the type of woman that might suit me mightn’t suit them.’
‘To hell with them! Just say that to yourself. It’s your life. And anyway, you’re divorced, you could marry again.’
‘Aw begod, no! The fryin’ pan put the fear of the fire into me; I’m takin’ nobody in on a permanent basis like. No, sirree! ’Cos you see I’ve got this bit of a temper. Well, I did the nine months in Durham ’cos of it—didn’t I now?—for plasterin’ me wife’s fancy man’s face all over the wall. No; no more marriages. An’ that’s why, you see, life appeared rosy when your ma took such an interest in us: I had a mother at last, I thought, not like the real one, an’ the lad had a granny not like his real one.’
‘Tell me’—Fiona leaned forward now—‘what’s made you think otherwise then, that she doesn’t still think of you as a mother?’
‘Aw, ma’am. Ma’am. There’s some things in this life you can’t explain, not even God himself could put it into words. ’Tis the way some women have: the things they drop you know, little hints; an’ the way they titivate themselves up. An’ she could, couldn’t she, your ma? Not that she looks her age. I’ve told her time an’ again that nobody would take her for a day over forty.’
Bill’s laugh was a deep guffaw, and he ran his hands through his hair. ‘Aw, Davey Love, I thought you’d have more sense than that. Not a day over forty. You’ve asked for it. All you’ve got you’ve asked for. Anyway, she won’t trouble you for the next few weeks, she’s goin’ to America.’
‘She’s goin’ to…?’
‘Yes.’ Fiona now nodded towards him. ‘She came in not so long ago to tell me that she’s going on a holiday to America. And who knows? She might meet her soulmate on the journey.’
‘Praise be to God and His Holy Mother if she does. Praise be to God. Aw, you’ve lightened me day. You know what I was goin’ to say next? That we must up an’ leave, an’ that would be a shame. I put it to the lad last night: I said, “We might have to leave here.” “Why for?” he said. “Well, you don’t want another ma,” I said. “It depends,” he said. “How about Mrs Vidler?” I said. “Bloody hell!” he said. Oh dear, ’tis sorry I am, ma’am, ’tis sorry. But he only uses language when he’s troubled like. And he was troubled. Aye, begod, he was, ’cos you know what he said? “You might have to do it, Da,” he said; “’cos if you didn’t you might upset Mrs B.” You gave him leave to call you that, didn’t you, ma’am, ’cos that’s what he said, that I might have to take on your ma, ’cos I might upset you. ’Cos he has a great feelin’ for you. Oh aye, past understandin’ the feelin’ he has for you. But it’s good news, oh aye, ’tis good news, America.’
Bill had to make himself go down on his knees and poke the fire, then add more coal to it. And when, after dusting his hands, he sat back in his chair his face was red, not only from the flames: ‘Now look here, Davey,’ he said: ‘take no notice whatever of the other occupants of the Crescent—they’ve all got their own dark secrets; there’s not a house anywhere that hasn’t—you find yourself a lass, a nice one for preference, not a beer slugger from the Dirty Duck. By the way, are you still goin’ there and washin’ up the glasses?’
‘No, boss, no. Since I’ve been on this job I’ve hardly been in the place but twice. No, I left that when I left Bog’s End, and me patronage now is given to the Crown.’
‘Oh, the Crown. That’s a nice pub, the Crown.’
‘Aye, it is that. An’ they get some nice folk in there an’ all, all types, but all respectable.’
‘Aye, yes, indeed they do at the Crown. If I remember rightly there’s a nice barmaid in there, auburn-haired, good figure, name of Jinny.’ He looked at Fiona now, and when he winked at her she said, ‘We’ll discuss her later, Mr Bailey.’ And this brought a laugh from Davey, and he said, ‘Don’t think you need to worry, ma’am, not in that direction. But aye, she’s a nice piece, that. I’ve had many a crack with her. And I know this about her: she’s been divorced these two years back, an’ no children. She lives with her brother up Melbourne Road.’
‘We’ll now, what are you waitin’ for? You’ll lengthen those cracks if you’ve got any sense, boyo, and you’ll have her installed by the time Mrs Vidler returns.’
‘Aw, boss, that’d take a fast worker indeed, and I’m not all that fast in that direction. Women never take me what you call seriously. They have a laugh at me; I’m good for a joke. Anyway, if I was for pickin’ up with a woman an’ Father Hankin got wind of it, begod! He’d expose me from the altar. He’s hard on me heels now ’cos I told him quite plainly, that was in confession of course, that I was only goin’ to Mass for a year to pay me debt to Him’—he now thumbed towards the ceiling—‘and once that’s done, well, we’re back where we started. You’d think those fellas, ’cos after all what are priests but men, well, you’d think now that they wouldn’t remember what was said to them in confession, wouldn’t you? They’re not supposed to blow the gaff; but begod, they must have pockets all over their brains, and in one of ’em he’s stored what I told him ’cos before that he didn’t take any notice to me, I was just one of those thick Irish blokes that go to Mass ’cos they’re frightened not to. They’re all scared that they’ll get knocked down an’ die in mortal sin, ’cos they still believe in hell’s flames. But there was this one’—he pointed to his chest—‘tellin’ him the truth. And I tell you, since then me Guardian Angel couldn’t be stickin’ to me closer than he is.’
‘Shut up, will you? Shut up! Come and have a drink.’ Bill’s cheeks were wet. ‘And you stay there’—he now touched Fiona on her bowed head—‘and I’ll bring you one in, non-intoxicant of course.’
Davey was on his feet now
and bending towards Fiona, saying, ‘Goodnight to you, ma’am. I’m glad we’ve had this crack, I feel better now. And who knows: Things’ll work out; they generally do. Oh aye, they generally do. And if I’m not to see you afore your delivery, ma’am, may the Holy Mother of God be with you on that day and help you through your trauma.’
‘Come on away with you, will you?…Dear God in heaven! I’m talkin’ as Irish as you.’ Bill put out his arm and almost hauled Davey from the room, leaving Fiona to sit back in her chair with the tears running down her face…And may the Holy Mother of God be with you on that day and help you through your trauma. Oh, Davey Love, Davey Love, and Sammy Love. How they had affected this family since they had come on to the horizon, and not least with laughter.
Two
She had only another week to go, at least according to her. But the betting in the house was varied. You could say a book had been set up in the family Bailey. It had gone on from Katie’s betting Bill, to Katie’s betting Willie; then Willie’s betting Mark, and Mark’s betting Nell, and Nell’s betting Bill, the bets being kept in the book by Mark with the amounts and dates of arrival against each case. Willie stood the lowest, aiming to gain or lose only twenty pence. Katie’s bet still remained at the top of the list.
A lot of laughter had been caused by the book, but, a certain amount of dissent too: on the one hand, Bill had laughingly said, she had kept her family off drugs, drink and smoking, only for them to take to gambling, and that, in his mind, was much worse than drink, whilst on the other it had heightened the war between Katie and Willie and caused it to be inflamed still further by Mamie’s preference for Sammy. Where at one time she had adored Willie and relished his impatience with her and had been given the brush-off every time she showed her affection for him, now she almost infuriated him by not only ignoring him, but also, in her childish yet knowing way, extolling the virtues of Sammy Love. And if Samuel hadn’t been wise enough to abhor little girls, as he once did nuns, there would certainly have been a rift between him and Willie.
Bill Bailey's Daughter Page 4
