Hamilton

by Catherine Cookson

  When I got him home I made a bed in the clothes basket for him, and gently pressed him into it and told him to stay. I had taken two steps away from it when he got up. The ‘stay’ business went on for about five minutes before he got the message.

  I then ran up to May to see how she was. She seemed to be sitting in bed exactly how I had left her, her hands on top of the cover, her head propped up against the pillow. She said, ‘Did you get him?’ And I said, ‘Yes. But he won’t cause any trouble.’

  Surprisingly, she now said, ‘I’ve always wanted a dog, but never got round to having one. Perhaps you’ll bring him up sometime?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ I smiled broadly at her and again said, ‘Oh, yes.’ That she should like Bill would surely give him an entry ticket to get past Howard.

  That evening, Howard came in the back way hurriedly, then stopped dead on the sight of the anything-but-beautiful three-legged-and-one-white-stumped dog. I’d heard the back door open as I came downstairs, and I raced to the kitchen, there to see him and Bill surveying each other, mutual dislike evident in both their faces. And Bill was giving voice to his in a low growl. As I bent and patted him I looked up at Howard and said, ‘I had to bring him home.’

  ‘Well, he’s not staying here, not that thing.’

  ‘He is.’

  ‘I said, no.’

  ‘You can say what you like, Howard, he’s staying. And May wants to see him. She tells me she’s always wanted a dog, and wants to see him.’

  ‘May said she wanted to see him?’

  ‘Yes. Ask her yourself.’

  For the evening meal I had cooked some lamb chops, potatoes, and vegetables, and I had May’s tray ready to take up when Howard entered the kitchen. Looking down on it, he said, ‘Where’s the gravy?’ And I said, ‘Well, I didn’t think you would need gravy with chops; I’ve…I’ve put some butter on the potatoes.’

  ‘Don’t need gravy with chops!…Stupid!’ He drew in a quick sharp breath, then grabbed the tray from me and went out.

  And I stood and repeated, ‘Stupid!’

  The following morning I took Bill up to see May. I had a job to get him up the stairs. It was evident he had never had to negotiate stairs before and we were only halfway up them when I sat down and laughed; and he licked my face and gave one whoof of a bark as if he was enjoying the joke. But I silenced him, saying, ‘Shh! Shh! No barking in the house.’

  When May saw him, she smiled and, looking at me, she said, ‘You do pick them, don’t you, Maisie?’

  ‘I couldn’t do anything else,’ I said; ‘I was so sorry for him.’ And then I added, ‘It isn’t so much me picking them, as they picking me.’ She stared at me for a long time, and then, her head drooping, she said, ‘Yes, you’re right, they picking you. I’ve done a lot of thinking lately, Maisie…You know I’m dying?’

  ‘Oh no! Oh no!’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Her voice sounded as of old; but she paused before saying, ‘I’ve faced up to a lot of things, and one of them is, I know I did wrong by you.’

  I stared at her silently. Then she went on, ‘I liked your house…this house. I never expected to die in it though. The main thing was, I wanted security for Howard; I felt he hadn’t had his rightful chance in life. I was wrong. But there, the excuse I have is that so many mothers are wrong, and in a way I’ve always looked upon myself as Howard’s mother, because I’ve mothered him from the day he was born. I think it’s because I knew early on that he’d be the only man in my life. You see’—she moved her head slowly now—‘I’ve…I’ve never been able to like men, except…except Howard. But I’m not blind to his faults. And Maisie—’ She put her big bony hand out towards me, and I lifted mine from where it was resting on Bill’s head and let her clasp it, and now, her words halting and her eyes cast down, she said, ‘I…I know you’ve had a hard time with Howard. I didn’t imagine he would be like that. You are a girl who would have responded to kindness, been grateful for it. I recognise that, and I thought that, once you were married, he would see the other side of you, the kindness, and…and would therefore come to… well, care for you in a way. But from what I understand now, I fear that can never be. And…and I feel full of remorse for saddling you…for saddling you both with each other, when you are so unsuited.’

  I could not look at her. I turned my gaze down on Bill. His eyes were on me. And now she said, ‘We made a mistake about you. I…I imagined you were very amenable. We didn’t realise that behind your sort of inoffensive manner there is a strong character.’

  I now raised my eyes to her, my mouth was slightly agape. I didn’t know I had a strong character: I had looked upon myself as weak, easily led, rather inane. Her head drooped back on the pillows now as if she was tired, and I rose slowly from the bed and was about to release her hand when her grip tightened slightly and she turned and looked at me again as she said, ‘I shouldn’t say this, but I must: stand up to Howard. He’ll respect you more for it. If…if you let him get the better of you, he will treat you like…like…’ She closed her eyes and swallowed deeply, and I heard myself murmur, ‘It’s all right. It’s all right, May. Don’t worry. But…but thank you.’ She opened her eyes and looked at me, and I repeated, ‘Thank you, for talking to me as you have. And…and if I can help it, you’ll not die; I’ll look after you.’ I bent towards her, smiling slightly now as I ended, ‘I’ll even cook you a tasty meal.’ She gave me an answering smile and said, ‘That’ll be the day.’

  I laughed outright now. ‘Just you wait,’ I said. ‘Just you wait. I’ll make a hash that I won’t make a hash of.’

  I found I had to get out of the room quickly. There was no need to call Bill; he followed at my heels. And out on the landing, I stood with my hand pressed tightly against my cheek, the tears were blocking my throat, and I muttered aloud, ‘Please, God, don’t let her die. We could be friends now. I could see that, we could be friends. She understands the situation. Please, please, don’t let her die…’

  During the following days that were left to her I learned to make junket, egg custard, and light pastry, and I served her these appetisingly. But as time went on she ate less and less.

  The atmosphere of the house had changed completely. Different people from the terrace came in to see her. And Doctor Kane visited her every day. It was during the middle of the fourth week that, after coming downstairs, he put his hand on my elbow and led me into the sitting room, and there he said, ‘I don’t think it will be long now.’

  I couldn’t speak for a moment; then I said, ‘Shouldn’t she be in hospital getting special treatment? Couldn’t they do something there?’

  ‘No, they couldn’t do anything for her now that isn’t being done here. I would have had her in weeks ago, but she refused. There’s only one good thing that has come out of this sad business; she speaks very well of you now. Strange that, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, yes, it is,’ I said.

  ‘It was she who pushed you into this marriage. I know that and she knows it. But in her own way she’s been trying to make amends, although if that’ll have any effect on her dear brother, I don’t know. We’ll have to see what happens when she goes, won’t we?’

  I made no answer to this, just stood looking into his face. I seemed to know every hair on it. I had seen it every week for months now across his desk, mostly on a Monday morning. It was something I had come to look forward to. I knew all the regulars who visited the surgery. I had very little to say to them, but I listened a lot, and the snatches that came to me made me want to laugh, even when I didn’t feel like it. There was one woman in particular who, when she sat beside me, would say, ‘You here again?’ Hamilton laughed his head off about that. He would sit on his haunches in the middle of the round table where the out-of-date magazines were and rock with laughter. You here again? he would mimic. She would then give me a running commentary on her ailments: ‘’Tis the neck of me bladder. He says it wants seeing to. Me water’s like nobody’s business, ’cos I’ve had it all taken aw
ay, you know. Hysterectomy, you know; yours is only nerves. By, you’re lucky! But you’re always here. Men don’t understand. He said to me, me husband, “Well, what about it, are you or aren’t you? Come on, make up your mind; it’s either that or I go to the club.” So I said, “All right,” and we got down to it and papered the front room. But I didn’t feel like it.’

  On that occasion the women on the other side of her spluttered and choked. They had evidently placed the wrong construction on her words.

  I don’t think it had dawned upon the woman that she was as frequent a visitor as I was or else she wouldn’t have known I had been there so often.

  As I now stood looking at him, there came a scratching at the door, and when I went hurriedly and opened it and Bill marched in, the doctor turned his gaze down on him. ‘Who’s he?’ he said. ‘Where did he spring from?’

  ‘It’s Bill,’ I said; ‘he’s a bull-terrier. I’ve had him for some weeks. I keep him in the kitchen. He must have got out.’

  He stared down at Bill. Then looking at me, he said, ‘You could have picked a better-looking one. Where did you find him?’ When I told him, he smiled and said, ‘Maisie, you’re a funny girl.’

  ‘Funny ha-ha, funny peculiar, or just funny?’

  ‘A bit of all three, I should say.’

  Yes, he would.

  At that moment Hamilton appeared. He was standing in the corner of the room, and I thought, Yes, if I were to tell him about you, it would be the middle one that would head my certificate. At times I longed to tell someone about Hamilton, just to see what effect it would have on them. Would they think I was barmy?

  Definitely, they would. Well, I didn’t feel barmy, and I wasn’t barmy. Then why did I talk to Hamilton?

  I didn’t know, not really. But talk to him I did. I felt I always would. I saw him now walk slowly across the room and stand by my side, facing the doctor. I say, stand by my side, he seemed enormous, my head only came to his shoulder.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  I blinked at him, ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You worried about something besides…?’ He jerked his head backwards.

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Not really? What do you mean? Has he been at his games again?’

  ‘Oh, no, no. He spends all his time, every evening, with May until very late. I…I think he cares deeply for her.’

  He turned now and walked up the sitting room towards the door, saying, ‘A man like that cares for just one person, Maisie, and the quicker you realise it the better. That person is number one.’

  I wanted to say, you’re wrong there, he cares for May, but I remained silent. At the door, he said, ‘If you see any definite change, give me a ring, straight away.’

  ‘I will. Thank you.’

  I wasn’t in the room with her when she died. It happened suddenly one evening. I went upstairs with a tray on which there was a glass of hot milk. I opened the door, and there I saw Howard sitting on a chair, his body bent forward, his face buried in the coverlet near her limp hand.

  I didn’t speak; there was nothing I could say. Her face looked white and thin; the flesh had dropped off her of late; her cheekbones stretched the skin. I went quietly out, taking the tray with me, and down in the kitchen I sat on the chair, my elbow on the table. I put my hand over my eyes, and found myself muttering, ‘Goodbye, May. Goodbye, May. I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other better earlier on. But you’re all right now. You’re safe now. Goodbye, May. Goodbye, May.’

  I had to make an effort to stop myself talking. It was as if she was in the room. As I made to get up I had to push Bill aside. His muzzle had been against my knee, and I looked down at him and said, ‘She liked you. Yes, she liked you. That was something, wasn’t it?’

  I went to the phone and told the doctor. He came almost directly, and when half an hour later he left, he stood on the doorstep and looked at me and said, ‘He’s all yours now, Maisie. He’s all yours now. It’s up to you how you deal with him. The only thing is, don’t let him trample on you, or you’ll be finished for good.’

  I stood in the hall and looked up the stairs. May’s presence seemed to have gone from the house. There was only his in it now, and in this moment I asked myself how I was going to prevent him trampling on me, because I didn’t think that anything May might have said to him before she died would make any difference in our association.

  Two

  It seemed that I was wrong, because for the first few weeks after May’s funeral he treated me almost like a human being. During this time I did my best to make the meals attractive. Usually before, whenever we had eaten together no word had passed between us; now, he began to talk, but it was all about May. I didn’t mind that in the least, as long as he talked, and normally, without that dreadful sneer in his voice. May, he told me had been everything to him, mother, sister, friend. He didn’t know what he was going to do without her. When I said, ‘You will have to go back to your collecting and take up tennis again,’ he nodded at me, saying, ‘Yes, yes, that’s what I must do.’

  When this situation had gone on for about four weeks I began to think he was right, regarding companionship, as he had suggested before we were married. Perhaps, I thought, if he continued in this way I could forget what had happened and life would be tolerable, more than tolerable, perhaps enjoyable. He would have his pastimes and I would have mine.

  I was trying to catch up on the orders for typing, and I was also beginning to write myself, not just scribbles, not just about Hamilton, but little pieces about different things that had happened to me. Like the day I took Bill to the vet’s to get his plaster off.

  Only one unusual thing happened on our way there: we passed some buskers, and Bill stopped and, putting his head back, howled to the accompaniment of a man playing a fiddle and another a mouth-organ. A third was going round with a cap. Try as I might, I couldn’t get Bill away from them as long as they continued to play, and a lot of people stopped, and the man who was playing the mouth-organ shook with laughter and his mouth became so full of spittle he couldn’t go on playing.

  As soon as they stopped playing, Bill allowed me to lead him on. But the man who had played the mouth-organ called after me, ‘Will you loan him to us, miss?’ which caused the crowd to laugh.

  I was always addressed as Miss, no-one ever took me for Missis.

  As I led him along in his dot-and-carry-three step I thought, Oh, my goodness! If he starts that every time he hears music, we are in for something. Yet I’d had the radio on and there had been music and he hadn’t reacted in this way. I was to learn that he was only affected by reed or wind music such as the flute, the mouth organ, and yes, brass instruments; the piano and the violin didn’t seem to take his fancy.

  I was brought to another halt at a butcher’s shop. Bill tried to tug me into the shop, and I kept saying, ‘No, no, Bill.’ The customers in the shop turned round and laughed, and the butcher, leaning over his block, shouted to me, ‘If you want him cut up, bring him in.’ And, of course, this caused more laughter.

  I eventually got him into the surgery after a slight contretemps in the waiting room when Bill took a strong dislike to an Alsatian and then showed his preference for a cat whose head was poking out of a basket. The owner of the cat laughed when Bill wanted to lick her charge. She said she had never seen anything like it. Nor had the owner of the Alsatian. Her dog never fought, she said, he was as quiet as a lamb. I nearly asked her why he was baring his teeth at Bill. Of course,. Bill wasn’t only baring his teeth at the moment, every stiff hair on his body seemed erect. I was to learn that Bill loved people, but didn’t like any of his own kind. And, too, being contrary, he tolerated cats. Once he brought a young kitten home in his mouth while the mother was trying to tear him to bits. I think Bill was a male who should never have been a male. There are a lot of poor souls like him kicking about. Anyway, once the plaster was off his leg, Bill turned round and looked at his new paw as if it was something that didn’t bel
ong to him. The vet told me I must massage the limb every day. I promised to do so, then I paid his bill, which staggered me somewhat and made me realise that it was as expensive for a dog to be ill as it was for a human being.

  Outside, Bill continued to walk as he had been doing with his dot-and-carry-three step until, stopping abruptly, he looked round at his back leg and slowly stretched himself; then his leg went out, his head went up, his body stiffened, and he was off.

  It happened so quickly I didn’t know what had hit me. I was hanging on to the end of the lead and he was racing ahead like a greyhound after a rabbit. When we came to the open quay, men stopped working to watch our progress. We had passed the turning that I usually took for home. Then as quickly as he had started he stopped, and at a lamp-post. Like a top spinning, I wound round it before I, too, stopped; then I leant against it, gasping, and all I could say was, ‘Oh, you bad dog. Oh, you bad dog.’

  A man approached us from along the quay. He had jumped up from a small boat, and I could see that he was shaking with laughter. And when he stood in front of me, he said, ‘Enjoy your trip, miss?’ Then looking down at Bill, his grin spreading from ear to ear, he said, ‘I shouldn’t be surprised to see you in the greyhound stadium shortly, lad.’ But then, his glee subsiding a little, he asked with some concern, ‘You all right, miss?’

  ‘Yes; a little out of puff.’

  ‘I’d say. I thought you were going to take off. I’ve never seen anything so funny afore. You pay to go to the pictures, but what you see for free on this waterfront is nobody’s business. If—’ he started to shake again and spluttered, ‘If you could have seen yourself, lass, you would have died.’

  ‘I felt I was going to.’

  This seemed to add to his amusement. Bill, in the meantime, had been examining the lamp post from all angles, twisting his body back and forward in order to get the right position to leave his mark. I now pulled hard on his lead, saying, ‘Come on. Come on, Bill.’ And as the man repeated, ‘Bill? You call him, Bill? Well, he’s well named,’ what seemed to be the last straw happened: I gave one sharp tug, and off came his collar.