Bill Bailey's Lot

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘Oh, another one of them?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what Bill said, there’s many of them. Anyway, forget about us; you want to get yourself inside and into bed.’

  ‘Yes, that’s where I’m going.’ She rose to her feet, then turned to Fiona and said, ‘Heard any more about the big deal?’

  ‘Yes, but the news isn’t very good. Too many in for it, I understand. But you know Mr William Bailey; if he goes down it will be fighting.’

  ‘Oh yes, in all ways. You know, Fiona, I’ve never come across anyone in me life with such a loud voice. He’s just got to say “hell” and it’s like a blast.’

  ‘Go on!’

  She followed Nell to the door, saying now, ‘You stay in bed in the morning. I’ll pop across once I get them off to school.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be all right by then. See you.’

  Fiona returned to the sink and the dishes. Life was strange. One time you were on your own with three children to see to, no-one to back you up, but a mother to point out that everything you did was wrong; the next minute you had a fellow like Bill and a friend like Nell, not forgetting an adopted daughter called Mamie, and she was the result of Bill’s hidden sensitivity. Life was good. If only Bill could manage to pull off that deal it would be more than good, it would be marvellous.

  Chapter Two

  It was half-past eight by the time Bill finished his bath, but before going downstairs again he went into the bedroom which Katie shared with Mamie. The latter was already in bed and was sitting up talking to Edward Muggins her teddy bear. There was no doubt about the bear’s name, it was written across the chest of his sweater. And after Bill had kissed Mamie goodnight he then had to shake hands with Mr Muggins and tell him that he must go to sleep and stop talking and keeping Mamie awake. Next he put his head round the door of the playroom, and when three eager faces were turned towards him, he said quickly, ‘Not tonight. Not tonight, comrades.’

  Katie, getting to her feet and coming towards the door, said, ‘You can spare five minutes.’

  ‘No, not even five minutes because I know what your five minutes is: I’d be roped into something. Keep your distance, woman. Goodnight, Mark. Goodnight, Willie. And goodnight to you too, Katie.’

  They all answered, ‘Goodnight, Dad.’ Then Katie, having the last word, said, ‘Be careful how you go,’ and at this they all laughed.

  Fiona was in the sitting room. He went to the back of the couch and bending over it he rubbed his face in her hair, then said, ‘I’ll give you another hour then get yourself upstairs.’

  ‘Do you want a drink before you start?’

  ‘Not one of yours, thank you, Mrs B.’

  He now walked to the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room and, opening it, he poured himself out a measure of whisky, and drank it raw. He then came round to the front of the couch and, looking down on her, he said, ‘Why don’t you put the telly on?’

  ‘I prefer to read.’

  ‘Have it your own way.’ Then, dropping onto his hunkers, he caught hold of her hand, saying, ‘I’m sorry I’ve been stuck next door so often of late, but it’s got to be done if…’

  ‘Oh, Bill, you don’t have to apologise to me. You should know that by now. And who do you think’s keeping you next door with your nose to the grindstone until all hours? We are, me and my lot.’

  ‘Our lot, Mrs Bailey.’

  ‘Sorry, our lot. But it’s true: if it wasn’t for us you wouldn’t give two hoots about getting that contract.’

  ‘Oh yes, I would. Let me tell you, I was an ambitious man before I set eyes on you. You forget, from tea-boy to little tycoon. Little, I admit, but nevertheless a tycoon. Because I’m very proud of that last job of mine, every house has been sold and could have been twice over. The finance company made a nice little pile out of that; and I’m not grumbling, I didn’t do too bad either. So don’t ever suggest, Mrs B, I lacked ambition before I entered your portals and met your mother.’ He threw his head back now. ‘I often think of that day. She was after my blood, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Oh no, she wasn’t.’

  ‘Oh yes, she was, until I told her I had been divorced four times and that my intake of whisky was that of a whale. But the last bit that did it was when I suggested she get off her legs because she was such a poor old soul.’

  ‘You were a terrible man then.’

  ‘You never thought I was a terrible man, did you, not from the first.’

  ‘Oh yes, I did. Don’t kid yourself. I not only regretted your entry into these portals, as you say, on that first day but for a number of days afterwards.’

  ‘But when I left, you came running after me, didn’t you?’

  When he found himself overbalancing and thrust onto the hearthrug, he lay there laughing for a moment; then jumping up with the agility of a twenty-year-old instead of a man on the road to fifty, he punched her gently on the jaw, saying, ‘A sandwich and a cup of your rotten coffee in about an hour’s time,’ to which her answer was, ‘If you’re lucky.’

  He was on his way towards the door, and he turned and said, ‘I’d better be.’ Then just as he opened the door the sound of the front doorbell ringing brought him to a stop. Turning his head swiftly, he said, ‘I bet that’s your mother.’

  ‘No, no.’ Fiona had risen quickly to her feet. ‘She wouldn’t come out in the dark, at least not on her own.’

  He pulled the cord of his dressing gown tight, saying, ‘I can’t go and open it like this, but I’ll be behind the door just in case; you never know these days.’

  A moment later when Fiona opened the front door she was amazed to see that the unwelcome visitor of earlier in the evening had returned, only now he was accompanied by an extremely tall and bulky man. And it was the man who spoke, saying in a deep Irish voice, ‘You Mrs Bailey, ma’am?’

  ‘Yes, I’m Mrs Bailey.’

  ‘Well, you know all about this ’un. You’ve had him here the night, I understand?’

  ‘Yes, he was here.’

  ‘Well, he has somethin’ to tell you and somethin’ to give you.’

  It was at this point that Bill stepped from behind the door and looked at the visitor, and the visitor looked at him and said immediately, ‘Hello there, Mr Bailey.’

  Bill screwed up his eyes and peered at the man.

  ‘I…I know your face. You’re…m’m …’

  ‘Davey Love. I worked for you for a bit about two years gone.’

  ‘Oh aye, yes. Well, come in, don’t stand there.’ He pressed Fiona aside, pulled the door wide and allowed the very big fellow and the very small boy to enter the hall. Then after closing the door, he said, ‘You had better come into the sitting room.’

  ‘Thanks, I will…After you, missis.’ Mr Love’s arm went out in a courtly gesture that caused Fiona’s features to twist into what could have been taken as a smile or an expression of surprise.

  In the sitting room they all stood looking at each other for a moment until Bill, pointing to a chair, said, ‘Well, sit yourself down.’ And when the big fellow had seated himself he and Fiona sat on the couch. That left Samuel Love standing to one side of his father, but with his eyes directed towards the carpet, until a very ungentle nudge from his father’s elbow that nearly knocked him sideways brought his head up. And now he was glaring up at his parent who was saying to him; ‘Well, tell them why you’re here. That’s what we’ve come for, isn’t it? Well…in part. But you get yer say over first. Go on, don’t stand there like a stook, go over and tell her what you did, how you repaid her kindness after her stuffin’ yer kite with the other lad’s sandwiches and his cake an’ jelly. You did enough braggin’ about that, an’ if it hadn’t been for yer granny I wouldn’t have known how you repaid these good people. Go on, tell ’em.’

  The boy now took two steps towards Fiona, then, putting his hand in his pocket, he drew out a spoon and thrust it towards her, saying, ‘I pinched it off ya.’

  Fiona took the spoon and looked at it. It was one of a
set that someone had given her for a wedding present at her first marriage. They were silver-plated, but she had never liked them and the children had used them from when they were babies.

  ‘His granny had a few but not as good as that ’un. Presents from here, there, and every bloody where, day-tripper things you know. And this ’un here thought he would add to her collection. I’m ashamed of him, bloody well ashamed of him. He’s standing now ’cos he won’t be able to sit down for a week: he’ll be lying on his face the night. I’ll bet you a shillin’ he won’t repay anybody’s good tea pinchin’ their cutlery after this…Well! What have you got to say to the lady?’

  Sammy cast his father a glance that should have shrivelled him; but the man was too big, and so he looked back towards Fiona and said, ‘Sorry…’

  ‘You’re sorry who? Begod! I’ll knock some manners into you afore I’m much older.’

  Again there was the glance; then, ‘I’m sorry, missis.’

  The boy’s gaze was now jerked towards the fella who bawled even worse than his da because he was making a funny noise in his throat as if he was choking. He had his head bent and a very white handkerchief held to his nose. And when his wife said to him, ‘Mr Bailey!’ he lifted his head and replied, ‘Yes, Mrs Bailey?’

  Bill wiped his eyes; then in a voice he had to control, he said to Davey Love, ‘If I remember rightly you were with us only a short time.’

  ‘Aye, that’s right.’

  ‘And if I also remember rightly you’re the only man who’s ever been on my books that left with two days’ pay owing him and never came back for it.’

  Mr Love laughed now as he said, ‘Aye, that’s right an’ all. But when I had time to come back you had finished that job and started another ’un. So, I said, to hell! Pardon me, missis; it just slips out, you know. But as I said, what odds.’

  ‘Did you get another job?’

  The head went back again, and now there was something in the laugh that was not quite bitter but which you couldn’t say was jolly, and the man said, ‘Sort of. Ah well, you might as well know, I went along the line.’

  ‘You did?’ Bill nodded. ‘Along the line?’

  ‘Aye, along the line. Well, you might as well know. You might have seen it in the papers at the time but didn’t link me with it. Of course, me name’s not that unusual, but you see, his mother had walked out on me again.’ He thumbed towards the boy. ‘She’d gone off with her latest fancy man. Oh, missis’—he flapped a hand towards Fiona—‘don’t look so troubled, he knows all about it.’ He again thumbed towards his son. ‘He’s been brought up on it. She’s like the swallows, she does a flit every year but she usually comes back, mostly on her own. This time though, she landed in the town with him. Well, if she comes back on her own we have it out an’ that’s that. But I ask you, for a fella of my size an’ appeal to be passed over for a little runt! Five foot five he was an’ she’s all of five foot nine or ten if she’s an inch. That’s why I took her at first ’cos she was near me size. Anyway, the sight of her latest choice was too much for me; I wiped the floor with him, an’ a couple of walls an’ all.’ He grinned widely now. ‘He had his quarters in hospital for two months after that an’ mine was in Durham for nine.’

  Bill could hold it no longer. His body was already shaking before the sound erupted; and then almost to his joy he saw that Fiona was in a similar state. When the man joined in, their laughter mingled, and it didn’t die away until Fiona, noticing that the boy was not laughing, held her hand out to him; and he took it, and when she brought him to her knee she said in a voice that she aimed to control, ‘It’s all right, I understand: you wanted it for your grandmother. Well, there you are, you give it back to her.’ She picked up the spoon from where it had been lying on the side of the couch and added, ‘And I think I have another one somewhere; I’ll look it out for you.’

  ‘What d’you say?’

  The boy turned his head sharply and looked at his father and, addressing him now as one adult to another, he said, ‘I know what to say, but let me have me breath.’ Then directing his gaze on Fiona once more, he said, ‘Thanks, missis. Ta.’

  ‘Well, that’s over. But not quite.’ The big man had both Fiona’s and Bill’s attention again. ‘But mind’—he wagged his finger towards Bill—‘I would have brought him along in any case. Oh aye. That’s one thing I won’t stand for in him, is light fingers. As far as I know that’s the first time; and it’ll be the last, ’cos the next time it’ll not be the belt across his backside, I’ll string him up. Begod, I will.’

  When Fiona closed her eyes for a moment Mr Love put in more moderately, ‘Well, that’s what you call stretchin’ it a bit, missis, but you get me meanin’.’

  She was unable to answer him but she inclined her head towards him. And he, looking at Bill now, said, ‘When you’ve done a stretch, whatever for, your name’s mud. But believe me that was the first time I’d been up, an’ that’ll be the last. It was an object lesson with a big “O” for me. Begod, it was. I hope I’m never tempted to bash anybody again. But if I am I’ll do it in the dark with a stockin’ over me head ’cos they won’t get me into Durham again, not in that van anyway. So, what I’m inferrin’ like is, jobs have been few an’ far atween, sort of. And I’m a man who likes to work, to use me hands, and I give worth for worth, no shirkin’ when I’m on the job. So, what I’m askin’ you for is, can you take me on ’cos I hear you’re startin’ on two new houses shortly?’

  Bill looked at the big fella. It was his intention to set on two extra men on Monday because of the time limit set on this last piece of work he had in hand which, if not met, would mean loss of money on the contract. Considering what he had just heard, and such was this man’s need and the appeal of his raw child, he made his decision. In the brusque business-like manner he usually adopted when dealing with new starters, he said, ‘You’re lucky. I was thinking about setting two on on Monday. If you show up then we’ll see what we can do.’ He could have added jokingly, ‘If you don’t reach Durham again in the meantime.’ But he resisted the temptation, because Durham must have been an experience in this man’s life that would be best forgotten. But perhaps not best forgotten, perhaps the thought of it would keep him out of trouble in the future.

  Davey Love stood up now and his whole attitude seemed to change: the tone of his thick Irish voice had dropped several levels when he said, ‘That’s real kind of you, sir. I won’t forget it, and you won’t regret it. No, begod, I’ll see you don’t.’

  Bill, too, got to his feet, saying, ‘Would you like a drink?’

  ‘Aye; thank you very much, I would that.’

  ‘Whisky? Gin? Beer?’

  ‘A beer would be welcome, sir; you get more in a beer.’ He turned a laughing face on Fiona now, and she smiled back at him. Then looking at the boy again, she said, ‘And would you like a drink of milk or orange juice?’ And he glanced towards his father as if for permission, and when it was given with a nod he said, ‘Got any coke?’

  The bawl was as loud as Bill’s: ‘Milk or orange juice the lady said. Take your choice an’ be thankful, you ignorant scut.’

  Again that look was levelled at the big man; then Sammy said, ‘Orange juice.’

  ‘What else? God an’ His Holy Mother! Won’t you ever learn?’

  There was an actual sound of a sigh before the boy said, ‘Please.’

  Fiona had to hurry from the room, and when she reached the kitchen she stood with her back to the door for a moment, her hand tight across her mouth. She had never thought that this evening would end in laughter, not after the fracas she had had with that small piece of humanity back there, and then knowing of the worry that Bill was experiencing.

  Quickly now she poured out a glass of orange juice and put a large piece of cake onto a plate, then both onto a tray. And she was crossing the hall when there was a hiss from the top of the stairs; and there they were, the three of them, and it was Mark who whispered, ‘There’s company?’ And she whispe
red back, ‘Yes. Tell you about it later.’

  ‘What’s that for?’ Katie was pointing downstairs; and Fiona, stretching her head forward, whispered back to her daughter, ‘It’s for the guest. He only takes orange juice.’

  ‘Mam!’ It was a loud whisper. ‘Yes, Willie?’

  ‘Hurry up and come up and tell us.’

  ‘I will. Go on now and get ready for bed, you two.’

  ‘Mam.’

  ‘Yes, Katie, what is it?’ Her voice showed her impatience now.

  ‘Can we…?’

  ‘No, you…can…not! Now you, and you Mark, do as I say, get ready for bed. If you don’t I won’t tell you a thing that’s happened.’ She moved away amid the muttered grunts.

  In the sitting room she put the tray on a small table and, beckoning Sammy to a seat near it, she said, ‘There you are.’

  ‘Ta!’ said young Master Love with deliberate emphasis now, and his father, shaking his head, said, ‘My! My! You won’t forget this night, will you, laddie? There’ll be no livin’ with you after this. You’ll not only want to move from the flats you’ll want yer meals brought to you on a tray.’ He now turned and made a face towards Bill, and Bill smiled, and Fiona smiled.

  Five minutes later when Mr Love had finished his beer and Sammy Love had got through his orange juice and his piece of cake, the big man said to his son, ‘Go and stand in the hallway; I’ll be there in a minute.’

  The boy rose from the chair, looked from one to the other of the three adults, then slowly walked out, closing the door behind him.

  Davey Love now turned to Bill, explaining: ‘I yammer on about things and his ma and the situation atween us in front of him ’cos he knows all about it; he’s heard it since he was on the bottle. But there’s some things it’s better him not to know, ’cos kids talk. It’s like this: I’ve a piece of news that might be of some use to you. You see I get around. Well, you do down at Bog’s End. It’s a particular pub I go to and you hear things. I sometimes give a hand behind the bar. I’m not s’posed to serve, you see, being on the dole.’ He stretched his upper lip over his lower one and his face took on a comic, grotesque look. But he continued straight away, saying, ‘One or two things have happened to your lads lately, haven’t they?’