Mary Ann's Angels

by Catherine Cookson

  Mr Blenkinsop straightened up and his face was very solemn as he said, ‘Yes, ma’am. Yes, I can see your point. I can see that you’d be upset. Oh yes.’ He did not add that he could also see her husband’s side of it. It was no use upsetting her still further. ‘I’m very sorry that I’ve been the instigator of your worries. I can assure you I wouldn’t have enlarged upon them for the world. If only I had known I would have whipped her back here like greased lightning.’

  Mary Ann’s face softened, and she said now, ‘Thanks. I feel you would have, too.’

  ‘I would that. Yes, I would that.’

  They stood looking at each other for a moment. Then Mr Blenkinsop said, ‘Well, I must be on my way, but I’ll be seeing you shortly.’

  ‘Would you like to stay and have a cup of coffee?’

  ‘No, no thank you, not at the moment. But in the future we’ll have odd cups of coffee together, no doubt, when the work gets under way.’ As he turned towards the car he stopped and said, ‘You’re pleased about the factory going up?’

  ‘Yes, oh yes, Mr Blenkinsop; I’m very pleased.’

  ‘Good, good.’ When he reached the car, he looked over it and said, ‘Nice little farm you’ve got here.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a very nice farm.’

  ‘I’d like to come and have a look round some time.’

  ‘You’d be very welcome.’

  ‘Goodbye, Mrs Boyle. Please accept my apologies for all this trouble.’

  ‘It’s quite all right, Mr Blenkinsop.’ They nodded to each other, and then she watched him drive away, before slowly walking out of the yard and through the garden to the farmhouse again. As she entered the house Rose Mary’s voice came to her, laughter-filled and excited, saying, ‘Yes, Grandma, I’d have liked to have stayed if David had been there, but I couldn’t without David, could I?’

  Mary Ann paused in the scullery. She leant against the table and looked down at it. How was she going to explain the situation to Rose Mary? How to tell her that she had to stay here while David remained at home? How? She could put her off for a few hours, but in the end, come this evening, when she knew she wasn’t going home she’d have to explain to her in some way…Oh God! Why had this to happen to her, to them all?

  Chapter Eleven

  But before Mary Ann was called upon to explain the situation to Rose Mary she had to explain it to someone else—to Mr Lord.

  It happened round about teatime that Rose Mary came running into the house calling, ‘Mam! Mam!’

  ‘What is it?’ Mary Ann came out of the front room, where she had been sitting alone, leaving Lizzie busy in the kitchen. Lizzie had refused her offer of help, and this, more than anything else since she had come home yesterday, had made her feel, and for the first time in her life, a stranger, a visitor in her home. She had gone into the front room and made a valiant effort not to cry. She had met Rose Mary in the hall, and again she said, ‘What is it?’

  Rose Mary was gasping with her running. ‘It’s Mr Lord, Mam. He says you’ve got to go up.’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you not to go anywhere near the house? I told you, didn’t I? I told you to keep in the yard.’

  ‘But I was in the yard, in the far yard, and Mr Ben, he waved me up the hill. And when I went up he took me in to Mr Lord, and Mr Lord asked if you were still here.’

  Mary Ann lowered her head, then walked slowly into the kitchen and spoke to her mother.

  Lizzie was setting the table. She had her back to Mary Ann, and she kept it like that as Mary Ann said, ‘He knows I’m here; he wants me to go up.’

  ‘You should know by now that you can’t keep much from him, and you’d better not try to hide anything from him when you see him.’

  ‘It’s none of his business.’

  Now Lizzie did turn round, and her look was hard on her daughter as she said, ‘Your life has always been his business, and I’m surprised you have forgotten that.’

  Again Mary Ann hung her head, and as she did so she became aware of Rose Mary standing to the side of her, her face troubled, her eyes darting between them.

  As she turned away, walking slowly towards the door, Rose Mary said, ‘Can I come with you, Mam?’

  ‘No, stay where you are.’

  ‘Are we going home when you come back?’

  Mary Ann didn’t answer, but as she went out of the back door she heard her mother’s voice speaking soothingly to Rose Mary.

  Mary Ann entered Mr Lord’s house by the back door, as she always did, and found Ben sitting at the table, preparing his master’s tea, buttering thin slices of brown bread, which he would proceed to roll into little pipes. His veined, bony hands had a perpetual shake about them now; he was the same age as his master but he appeared much older; Ben was running down fast. Mary Ann was quick to notice this, and for a moment she forgot her own troubles and the interview that lay before her, and she spoke softly as she said, ‘Hello, Ben. How are you?’

  ‘Middling, just middling.’

  ‘Is Mrs Rice off today?’

  ‘They’re always off. Time off, time off, that’s all they think of.’

  ‘Shall I take the tray in for you?’

  ‘No, no, I can manage.’ He looked up at her and, his voice dropping, he said, ‘He’s waitin’.’

  ‘Very well.’ She paused a moment longer and added, ‘You should stop all this; there’s no need for it.’ She waved her hand over the tray. ‘There’s plenty of others to do this; you should have a rest.’

  ‘I’ll have all the rest I need shortly.’

  ‘Oh, Ben, don’t say that.’

  ‘Go on, go on. I told you, he’s waitin’.’

  As she went through the hall, with its deep-piled red carpet hushing her step, she wondered what he would do without Ben. Ben had been his right arm, also his whipping post, and his outlet; he’d pine without Ben.

  She knocked gently on the drawing-room door, and when she was bidden to enter, the scene was as it always remained in her mind. This room never changed; this was Mr Lord’s room. Tony and Lettice had their own sitting room. It was modernly furnished and very nice, but this room…this room had beauty, and dignity, and it was a setting for the figure sitting in the high-backed chair. There was no beauty about Mr Lord, except that which accompanies age, but there was dignity. It was in his every moment, every look, every glance, whether harsh or soft.

  He turned his head towards Mary Ann. Giving her no greeting, he said, without preamble, ‘You have to be sent for now?’

  She did not answer, but walked to the seat opposite to him and, sitting down, said quietly, ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m very well. How are you?’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Then if you’re all right you should make your face match your mood.’

  She stared at him; she had never been able to hide anything from him. She turned her gaze to the side now and looked out of the window; then looking back at him, she said, ‘Have you heard from Tony and Lettice?’

  ‘Yes, I had a letter this morning. They’re enjoying their holiday very much.’

  ‘And Peter?’

  ‘I understand that he, too, is enjoying himself.’

  ‘You will miss him.’

  ‘You have to get used to missing people.’

  ‘Yes…yes, I suppose so.’ You have to get used to missing people. Would she ever get used to missing Corny? How was it going to end? What was she going to do?

  ‘Well. Now, you’ve made all the polite enquiries that are necessary to this meeting, you can tell me why you came yesterday and spent the night alone, without either your husband or children?’

  She kept her gaze lowered. It was no use saying, ‘Who told you I came yesterday?’ Ben was also Mr Lord’s scout; nothing escaped Ben. He might be old and doddery, but his mind was as alert as his master’s. From his kitchen window he looked down onto the farm, and onto the road that led to the farm. Few people came or went without Ben’s knowledge.

  ‘Have you and Corneli
us quarrelled?’

  She still kept her head lowered; she still made no sound.

  ‘Look at me!’ Mr Lord’s voice was now harsh and commanding. ‘Tell me what this is all about.’

  She did not look at him, but, as she used to do when a child, she pressed her joined hands between her knees and rocked herself slightly as she said, ‘Rose Mary got lost yesterday. Me granny came to visit us and upset her. She hid in the boot of a car belonging to an American, a Mr Blenkinsop. He didn’t discover she was there for a long time. We were all searching when Mr Blenkinsop phoned to say he had found her and he took her to some friends of his. They live in Doncaster. Then, later, he phoned to ask if she could stay the night.’ She paused here before going on. ‘I wanted her brought back straight away, but Corny said it was all right and she could stay.’

  ‘Well, well, go on. He said it was all right; he wouldn’t have said that if it wasn’t all right. Did he know this man?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well then, there would seem little to worry about. But I take it that you didn’t like the fact that Rose Mary wasn’t coming back right away and so you got into a paddy.’

  ‘It isn’t as simple as that. You see…’ She now looked him full in the face. ‘Corny has always said that David would talk if they were separated. I have always been against it, and when I came home yesterday, I mean after searching for Rose Mary, he was full of the fact that the boy was talking. It must have been the shock of Rose Mary being lost, and Corny said he would have a better chance if they were kept apart a little longer. I thought it was cruel; I still think it is cruel.’

  Mr Lord pressed his head back against the chair and screwed his pale-blue eyes up to pinpoints. His lips moved from his teeth and he kept his mouth open awhile before he said, ‘You mean to say that is the reason you left Cornelius?’

  ‘It sounds so simple saying it, but it wasn’t like that.’

  ‘Stick to the point, child.’ He still thought of her as a child. ‘Your husband wants his son to talk; he feels that if he is separated from his sister he will talk. The opportunity presents itself, and no-one is going to be any the worse for the experiment, and you mean to say that you took umbrage at this and came home, and stayed the night away from him, purposely…You mean to tell me that this is what it was all about?’

  ‘I tell you it isn’t as simple as all that…’

  ‘It is as simple as all that.’ He leant towards her. Then, moving his index finger slowly at her, he said, ‘Now, if you know what’s good for you, you will get down to the farm quickly, get your things on and make for home.’

  Mary Ann straightened herself up. ‘No, no, I can’t.’

  ‘You mean you’re going to remain stubborn.’

  ‘I mean I can’t; he saw me coming away and he didn’t stop me.’

  ‘Well, I should say that is something in his favour. I uphold his action…But tell me. How did Rose Mary come here? Did she come by herself?’

  ‘No, he…he sent her with…with the American. When Mr Blenkinsop took her home he asked him to bring her here.’

  Mr Lord leant back in his chair again, and after a moment he said, ‘Do you realise, Mary Ann, that this is serious? Situations like this lead to explosions. Now, you do as I tell you.’ He did not say take my advice; this was an order. ‘Get yourself away home this very minute, and try to remember that you’re not dealing with a silly boy, but a strong-willed man. I’ve reason to know the strength of Mr Cornelius Boyle. Twice in my life I’ve come up against it. Because he cares for you deeply you might bend his will, but don’t try to bend it too far. For, if you do, you’ll break yourself and your little family…Come here.’ He held out his hand and she rose slowly and went to him, and when she stood by his side he took hold of her arm, and, looking up at her, he said, ‘Don’t destroy something good. And you have something good in your marriage. As you know, he wasn’t the one I wanted for you, but one learns that one is sometimes wrong. Cornelius is the man for you. Now promise me,’ he said, ‘you’ll go home.’

  Mary Ann moved her head from side to side. She pulled in her bottom lip then uttered under her breath, ‘I can’t, I can’t.’

  With a surprisingly strong and swift movement she was thrust aside, and, his voice angry now, he cried at her, ‘You’re a little fool! Now, I’m warning you. Start learning now before it’s too late. If you make him swallow his pride you’ll regret it to your dying day, but you’ll gain if you swallow yours. Have sense…Go on, get away, get out of my sight.’

  She got out of his sight. Slowly she closed the door after her and walked through the hall and to the kitchen. There Ben raised his eyes but not his head, and neither of them spoke.

  She did not immediately return to the farmhouse but went up a by-lane and stood leaning against a five-barred gate that led into the long field. Her whole being ached. She wanted to cry and cry and cry; she felt lonely, lost and frightened. But she couldn’t go back. He had let her come away when he could easily have stopped her if he had wanted to. If he had cared enough he could have stopped her. She had been in paddies before and he had talked her out of them, coaxed her out of them. He had always brought her round, sometimes none too gently. Once he had slapped her behind, as he would a child, because he said she was acting like one. That had made her more wild still. They hadn’t spoken for a whole day then, but come night-time and in bed his hand had sought hers and she had left it there within his big palm.

  But she couldn’t go back, she couldn’t, because what he had done to her was cruel. She had nearly been demented when Rose Mary was missing, and no matter how much stock he had put on his theory of David talking if they were separated, he should have foregone that, knowing the state she was in, knowing how she longed to see Rose Mary again and to feel that she was really safe. But all he could think about was that he had been right, and David was talking. She was glad, oh yes, she was glad that David was talking; and now once he had started he would go on. There had been no need to keep them apart; no matter what he said there had been no need to do what he had done. He had been cruel, cruel, and she couldn’t go back, not…not unless he came for her.

  Chapter Twelve

  But Corny did not come for her, and now it was Tuesday and the situation had become terrifying. Her da had been over to the house; Michael had been over to the house; and when they had come back neither of them had said a word, and she had been too proud to ask what had transpired.

  Then today her mother had been over. She hadn’t known she was going; it was the last thing on earth she thought her mother would do, to go and talk to Corny. Now Lizzie was sitting with a cup of tea in her hand and she looked down at it as she said, ‘You’ll have to make the first move.’

  ‘What if I don’t?’

  ‘Well, that’s up to you; it’s your life.’

  ‘Why should I be the one to make the first move?’

  ‘Because you’re in the wrong.’

  ‘Oh, Ma!’ Mary Ann was on her feet. ‘You’re another one. Everybody’s taken his part, everybody. It’s fantastic. Nobody sees my side of it and what I went through, what agony I went through when Rose Mary was lost.’

  ‘We know all about that.’ Lizzie took a sip from her cup. ‘But that’s beside the point now; the whole issue, to my mind, is the fact that you’ve always been against the twins being separated even for a few hours. Now, if you’d only been sensible about that, this whole business would never have happened. And another thing, Corny was absolutely right, the child’s really talking. Four days they’ve been separated and he’s chattering away like a magpie.’ Lizzie now leaned towards Mary Ann and repeated, ‘Chattering. It’s like a small miracle to hear him. And that alone should make you realise that you’ve been in the wrong, girl.’

  ‘All right, all right.’ Mary Ann flung her arm wide. ‘He’s proved his point, he’s right. But that’s just the outside of things; there was the way this was done, and the time it was done, and how I felt. Isn’t that to be taken into cons
ideration?’

  ‘You’re not the only one who’s felt like this; I nearly went mad when you were lost, remember. All mothers feel like this.’

  ‘Aw, you’re just twisting it, you won’t go deeper. And another thing.’ Mary Ann bounced her head towards Lizzie now. ‘You don’t want me here. Oh I know, I can tell, but don’t worry, you won’t have to put up with me much longer, I can get a job any time.’

  Lizzie, ignoring the first part of Mary Ann’s small tirade, said quietly, ‘And you’ll let Rose Mary go back home?’

  ‘No, I won’t.’

  ‘Who’s keeping them separated now? And that child’s fretting. She’s hardly eaten a peck in two days; she’s got to go back to that boy, not because of him but for her own sake. David’s not worrying so much. He asked for her, but that’s all. He’s as bright as a cricket. Do you know where he was when I got there? Under a car with Corny, and thick with oil, and as happy as a sandboy.’

  Mary Ann walked towards the window. She wanted to say sarcastically: was Corny as happy as a sandboy too? But she couldn’t mention his name. Her mother hadn’t said anything about Corny. She was acting like her da and their Michael in this. They were all for him. Yes, even her da now. It was fantastic; everybody was for Corny and against her. She swung round from the window, saying, ‘Well, I’m not crawling back, Ma, no matter what you say or any of you. As I said, I’ll get a job.’