Daniel's Story

by Paul Kelly

  "You say you loved Frieda," she said and watched the response.

  "Yes, I did" he replied, "I really did, but you know ... It wasn't what you might say, 'love at first sight' as is usually understood. No, when I first met Frieda, it was at a dinner party at one of the schools where I was teaching. I didn't think she was particularly attractive, but I think her music and her knowledge of music was the thing that made me think we might be compatible. After all, it was that lack of compatibility with Rene that led to our divorce."

  "But wasn't that enough then?"

  "No ... far from it. I had an attack of my MS. Nothing much, but I had to stay in bed for a few days and I think that was the final straw. Frieda, who up until that time had seemed to be very kind and even attentive to anything I needed, which again I must stress, wasn't much. I am one of the lucky ones with this disposition. I am able to walk O.K. and apart from a little awkwardness if I have to stand on a stage or anything like that, where I get a little dizzy if I look down, but that spell of weakness was what did it for both of us."

  "But surely she knew about your illness before you married her" Alison asked and Daniel corrected her.

  "It is not an illness, I keep telling you," he snapped. "It is a condition only. I am not ill.”

  "No, I understand that Daniel, but surely she must have known about your condition. You did tell her, didn't you?"

  "We lived with each other for nearly two years before we got married, so I thought after that time, that everything was understood. Wouldn't you have thought so?"

  Alison lowered her head. She found it hard to understand how any woman could have married a man, knowing his 'condition' and yet dump him such a short time after.

  "I think ..." she started to say when Daniel put his hand up in the air.

  "Did I tell you that Frieda was married before she met me?" he asked and Alison looked at him with surprise.

  "No ... I don't think so. I think I would have remembered if you had done," she said, but she was confident that he did tell her before about Frieda’s other marriage ... or was it Dillon who told her ...? and Daniel continued.

  "Frieda was married to the first guy for about the same time as she was to me. Perhaps even a little shorter time than we had together," he said, "but she wasn't very happy in that marriage either, I guess."

  "She seems to make a habit of this, doesn't she? Short stay marriages, I mean. Do you think it is her way of living where she can fleece some poor old guy after a few months of living with him and then making her wealthy and lucrative 'goodbyes' "

  Daniel smile again, but more broadly this time.

  "So you think I am a poor old guy?" he asked and Alison apologised immediately.

  "No, no ... I don't mean that, but there are some women who do this sort of thing. Vows don't mean anything to them and loyalty and love, even less."

  "Yes, I think you may well be right, Alison and that is why I have told you so many times that I would never get involved with another woman as long as I live."

  Alison left Daniel's flat that afternoon with a heavy heart, wondering if she should continue her 'chase' for the man of her dreams.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Rosie bumped into Ken as she was leaving her evening shift at the cafe and the encounter was anything but pleasing.

  "I see you've still got that 'thing' then," he snapped, staring at Rosie's tummy with a look of thunder on his face. She coughed as she tried to pass him on the pavement, but he moved in front of her to stop her in her path. "I asked you a question," he went on, "but I can see how useless that was as the bloody evidence is right in front of me. My God, I never realized how ugly you look ... and even in the evening air, when most women pride themselves on looking good in the moonlight."

  Rosie started to cry and Ken pushed her against the wall, where he thought nobody could see her.

  "Shut your row," he barked, "I hate crying women. You should know that by now."

  Rosie straightened herself up and dried her tears with the back of her hand.

  "I don't want anything more to do with you," she cried out in the night air and her voice sounded hollow. "I'll have this baby whatever you say or do and that's the end of it, so why don't you just get off and do what you have to do."

  Ken looked at her closely.

  "And what do you mean by that?" he demanded in a rough voice, "I'll do what I like and nobody ... but nobody will stop me, do you hear?"

  "Oh! just go away and leave me alone." Rosie muttered, afraid of what Ken might do to her if she continued her conversation with him, but he heard what she had said and retaliated as he slapped Rosie's face twice in anger, before he pressed his hand hard against her stomach and told her to grow up. Suddenly a voice came from nearby.

  "Hi there. What's going on here, eh?" Ken turned round to stand face to face with a policeman., he faltered for a moment as he squeezed Rosie's hand and winked at her.

  "Just a little domestic tiff, officer. My dear wife here likes a little rough treatment on occasions, don't you dear?" he said and squeezed Rosie's hand again. She smiled and nodded to the policeman.

  "It's alright officer. I'm fine really," she said and the police constable tipped his helmet as he moved on, but Rosie pulled away just as soon as the policeman had disappeared from sight. "I don't want to start any trouble," she said, "but if you ever hit me again, I'll make life very tough for you, young man."

  Ken laughed and tightened his grip on Rosie's arm as he whispered into her ear.

  "And if you don't behave yourself and do as I tell you 'Old dear', I'll make your life a veritable hell."

  Rosie stood up to him and pushed him away from her.

  "I don't frighten that easily," she snapped, "and whatever you do to me, I will make sure that you come off the worse for it."

  With that she strolled off leaving Ken to lick his wounds, if he had any, but she had decided in that moment to cut herself off from him entirely and have the baby on her own. She would look after the little one on her own and she was determined that she would do so, regardless of anything else that might happen in her life to put her off having her child. Others had done that before her and she would manage somehow. Of that she was sure.

  The following day Rosie met Alison, as she was coming in to the cafe for her afternoon shift and told her of her incident of the night before with Ken.

  "That bastard needed castrating," Alison shouted without realizing that others could hear what she had said, but she didn't care. Ken Royle was a bad experience for any woman, she concluded, but how can you tell others that fact when he had such a charisma, of a kind, on every woman he met, apparently. However, it was with this thought in mind that Alison decided on something that she hadn't thought of before.

  She would contact Ken Royle and find out exactly how he was living and what was on his mind. She went home later that day after her shift at the cafe and sat down resolutely by her telephone. Ken's number was still in her address book, even if she had scored it through in red ink making it seem obsolete and she dialled slowly and carefully.

  "Hello," came a female voice from the other end of the line and Alison smiled. Had she made a conquest? Somehow she imagined that she had ... .

  "Oh hello, I'm trying to contact Ken," she went on, with the best seductive voice she could muster,

  "Oh yes, and who are you might I ask?"

  "Oh, I don't think you would know me by name. Ken has told me when he was with me last night that his mother might answer the telephone and I was to be careful what I said. Are you his mother, dear?" Alison cupped her lips with her hand as she giggled into the air, trying not to make a sound.

  "You were with Ken last night, you say ... and where was that, may I ask?" The strange female asked and Alison giggle again quietly as she covered her mouth with her hand.

 
"Oh, I don't think I should give you the details darling, but you have a very attractive son. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

  "Where were you with him," came the following demand and Alison knew that her trick had worked.

  "I can't tell you that, dearie, Sufficient to say that we made each other very happy ... Very happy indeed." she said and put the phone down, however within moments it rang again.

  "I've got your number, you hussie and I'll tell Ken about this call when he comes in. Do you hear?"

  Alison grinned again.

  "Yes, I can hear alright, but I wouldn't upset Ken if I were you, darling. He nearly strangled me last night when we were ... well, you know what, don't you and he gets very uptight when he's excited."

  There was a protracted silence on the phone at that moment and then a quieter voice came back again.

  "I know you're not the only woman he's had, but I don't care a fuck about that. He's with me now and I know how to please him, so piss off and leave us alone."

  In the anger that came through on the voice and with the much softer tone, even if the vulgarity was extreme, Alison thought she recognised the speaker as she let the telephone fall into its cradle ... but she began to wonder as she pulled at a strand of hair that had fallen across her eye.

  She went to bed that night, more satisfied than she had been for a long time and resolved that the following day, she would make further investigations into the life and loves of Kenneth Royle.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  The next time Alison went to visit Daniel at his flat, he was out, but Dillon was in and he was delighted to see her. She cuddled him as he wound his legs around her waist.

  "daddy is not in at the moment, Alison, " he said, "But I'm sure he'll be pleased when he comes back to know that you are here. Can I get you a coffee form my 'new percolator'?"

  Alison smiled in bemusement and enquired if the 'thing' was still working as Dillon laughed and ran into the kitchen'

  "Only be a jiffy," he called out, "This thing works like magic. It's black with only one sugar, isn't it?"

  "Yes, that's right. What a good memory you have ... Oh! and whilst we are on that subject, Can you remember where I put my tape recorder after my last visit when we were together, huddled up on the floor of the bedroom?"

  "Yes, I remember. I put them away safely. Do you want them now?"

  Alison looked down at the floor, puzzled as to where the ingenious Dillon had hidden her 'evidence'

  "Yes, I would if you don't mind," she replied knowing that politeness was important to the little boy, but surprised by his next reply.

  "I hope what we heard on the tape recorder will be enough to make that rotter swing," he said as he produced the notes and the tape recorder from his bag.

  "But Dillon ... That's not a very nice thing to think or say about anyone," Alison remarked as she took the little package from Dillon.

  "I wouldn't piss on her if she were on fire," he replied and Alison's eyebrows shot up in her face.

  "That's not something a well mannered boy would say either," she grunted, half heartedly and Dillon started to smile.

  "That's what daddy says," he said with a look of triumph on his face and Alison could only agree, even if she said nothing more on the subject.

  "Listen to this," she said as she plugged the tape recorder into a wall switch and it purred its way into sound. "Do you think you would recognise Frieda's voice from this recording?"

  Dillon stuck his fist up to his ear and with an old fashioned look on his face, he nodded his agreement.

  "That's her voice O.K. I would recognise the cow ... er lady, anywhere," he shouted gleefully, but Alison ignored his logic as she listened herself to the voices more carefully. Daniel sounded muffled at times, but Frieda's voice was sharp and almost 'tearing' to the ear.

  "I thought I had heard that voice before," she remarked as she pulled the connection from the wall plug and the tape recorder became quiet again.

  "What do you mean?" asked Dillon as he screwed his face up with curiosity, "What do you mean when you say that you had heard Frieda's voice before? I think you may have met her here at the flat when you and Rene were here."

  "Yes, that's true. I heard her then, but I heard her again even more recently than that, Dillon."

  Dillon started to scratch his head as the front door opened and Daniel came into the room. He looked pale and tired as he sat down heavily on the sofa.

  "Daniel, are you alright?" asked Alison with concern, "You look done in. Can I get you a cup of tea or something or better still have you any brandy in the house?"

  Daniel closed his eyes and spoke in a low tone.

  "I'm alright. It's just one of my turns. Don't pay any attention. I have quite a few of these, " he muttered, but neither Alison or Dillon would listen to his excuse as Dillon ran into the kitchen where he pulled a chair over to stand on as he reached up to one of the cupboards.

  "Is this alright Alison," he asked, but when Alison looked at the bottle he had found, she discovered it was whisky.

  "That's O.K." she said and poured a little of the spirit into a mug, "It will do fine."

  Dillon watched her as she lifted Daniel's head carefully and held the mug to his lips. He screwed up his face and Dillon coughed.

  "daddy likes a little water in it, Alison," he said, but Alison ignored his plea as she continued to hold the mug where Daniel could drink easily. He opened his eyes and smiled.

  "You're a bloody good nurse," he said as he started to rise up, but Alison stopped him, telling him to rest where he was and she would see to anything else that was required and at that moment, Dillon tugged at her skirt and beckoned her towards the kitchen.

  "Alison ... daddy is very ill," he whispered, " but sometimes he is worse than others. He was a lot better before he met Frieda, but she shouts and swears at him and I don't like it. It makes me frightened. He is much better now she is not around. I wish she was dead."

  Alison took Dillon by the shoulders and started to shake him gently.

  "Dillon ... you must never wish that upon anyone, do you hear. Life is a very sacred and important thing to have for anyone and I'm sure daddy wouldn't like to hear you say what you did about Frieda."

  Dillon's lower lip stood out from his mouth and he appeared to be in a sulk for a moment before he spoke again.

  "daddy wishes she was dead as well as me," he muttered and Alison shook him again.

  "Don't say that. When daddy says things like that, he doesn't mean them," she said, but she had reservations herself ... even if they seemed unhealthy ... as she returned with Dillon to the lounge. Daniel's colour had returned to his cheeks and he was sitting up a little, leaning on his elbow.

  "It seems a good thing that I came here when I did," Alison suggested,"and I think Dillon and I could do with a cuppa. What do you think, Dillon?"

  The little boy agreed with a grin on his face and raced back into the kitchen, calling out as he went,

  "You stay with daddy, Alison and give him a cuddle. I know where everything is to make the tea."

  Alison had a broad smile on her face as she looked down at Daniel.

  "Did you hear what Dillon said," she asked and Daniel nodded.

  "Dillon always gives me a cuddle when he thinks I might be a little unwell, that’s all he means," he said.

  “Well, I think he's a bloody good nurse too and I really should do as he tells me." she replied and with that she knelt down by the side of the sofa and put her arms around Daniel's shoulders.

  "You're taking advantage. You know that, lady?" Daniel said, but he offered no signs of wanting to move away. Ten minutes later and after a nice hot cup of tea, made with the expert hands of Dillon Roberts, Daniel rose up from where he was lying and Alison stood aside.

  "I t
old Alison that you like a cuddle when you aren't well, daddy." said Dillon, "Did she do it as well as I do?"

  Daniel shoved his fingers through his hair and groaned.

  "Not quite," he replied, "but she's learning, I suppose."

  "But she can always practice daddy. You know what you are always telling me when you teach me the violin. 'practice makes perfect' ... Isn't that right?"

  Daniel reached out and touched Alison's hand.

  "My son is a born philosopher," he said, "and I do appreciate your concern, but you know how my heart lies by now and I don't want you to get hurt."

  Alison stood up and shrugged her shoulders.

  "I know exactly how your heart dictates and I have no qualms about that, but I would just like to add a little philosophy of my own if you don't mind."

  "No objection to that," replied Daniel and Alison looked him straight in the eye.

  "Patience is a virtue," she said with her head close to Daniel's "and now, if there's nothing more I can for the moment, I'll take myself off. It's time I was at the cafe."

  Dillon ran to the front door and opened it for her, but as she was about to leave, the little boy stepped in front of her.

  "I'm not feeling very well myself," he said "And when I'm feeling this way, daddy gives me a cuddle," and with that, he held out his arms to Alison who didn't need to interpret his meaning.

  "Love you darling," she whispered into his ear.

  "And daddy too?" asked the little boy and she nodded enthusiastically.

  An hour later she met Rosie when they exchanged shifts at the cafe, but as she expected ... Rosie didn't smell of roses.

  "Any change in the war?" she asked but Rosie shook her head as she started to tell Alison of her decisions to have the baby and to forget Ken Royle, if she could.

  "I know it's gonna be hard, Alison, because you know how I feel about him, but I'll have to try," she said in a tearful voice and Alison was strongly tempted to tell her what she knew from her tape recording session, however, she thought it better to leave that news until a later date as she had other plans up her sleeve.