‘Wonderful.’
Now bringing his face nearer to mine and his voice taking on that rapid, non-stop chatter that I loved so much, he said, ‘And they’re all suckin’ up, wantin’ to be me friend, all ’cos of you an’ the Indian, an’ the racket. And Millie Stott’s mother asked me to go to tea, she did. She was waitin’ outside the railin’s and she asked me. But I’m not goin’ … ’
‘You are.’ Again I looked from one to the other. They were exchanging glances, and now Harold said, ‘She’s soppy, Gag.’
‘She’s a nice little girl, what I’ve seen of her. You should thank your lucky stars someone like that takes an interest in you, clodhopper that you are.’
Oh, I definitely was back home, and it was lovely.
‘Ah, Gag.’
Janet was looking at me now, her eyes twinkling. I said to her, ‘Has he been a good boy?’ And she pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose, but then, her face straightening, she said softly, ‘Yes, ma’am, yes, he’s been a very good boy. And so upset. Like all of us. Oh, ma’am’—she reached across and caught my hand—‘what you’ve gone through. And all through the Indian an’ meetin’ him in my house. I felt sort of responsible, we all did, all the lads. They were so bothered. You know, our Rodney and Max, they took a day off an’ went down to help them search after that man came forward an’ said where he had seen you. And they had just found you when they got down to Hastings. Nobody thought you would live, you know.’ She paused, then said, ‘Oh, ma’am, you were in a dreadful state!’
I forced myself to smile now to prevent myself from crying again, and, nodding towards my leg, I said, ‘I still am, Janet. They’ve got to feed me, wash me … the lot.’
She sniffed now, then straightened up. ‘We haven’t got to tire you else that nurse’ll be on us again,’ she said.
Indicating Harold, I asked quietly, ‘Has his father been around again?’
‘Oh.’ Janet raised her eyes to the ceiling, saying, ‘There’s a tale there. You won’t believe it. I can’t believe it, I just can’t. I’ll tell you some other time.’
‘Me mum’s comin’ back.’
‘You shut your mouth, young ’Arold.’
‘His mother’s comin’ back?’ There was apprehension in my voice, and Janet said, ‘It’s a long story, but it’s got nothin’ to do with him.’ She jerked her head towards Harold. ‘You’re all right; so’s he; an’ if I could laugh about the whole affair I would, especially at Stoddart, but I can’t. Oh, our Maggie!’
My hand was tugged, and I looked at Harold as he asked quietly, ‘When you comin’ home, Mrs Nardy?’
‘I’m not quite sure, Harold. Next week … ’
‘You’ll be lucky.’ We both looked at Janet. Then again I turned my attention to Harold, saying, ‘Soon. As soon as possible because I miss you.’
When his arms jerked upwards and around my neck I almost screamed as the pain shot down my spine, but I closed my eyes and with my short arm I held him to me. His nose was pressed into the only part of me that didn’t seem to be bandaged up, a space above my short arm and below my chin. And when it became wet I said, ‘Now, now, you’ll have me crying and then the nurses will go for me.’
His words were smothered but I heard them, and when I answered, ‘I love you too, darling,’ Janet got to her feet and made her way to a table near the window on which was a huge flower arrangement in a basket. After a moment she turned and said, ‘I … I think you’ve had enough, ma’am. I think you’ve had enough. Come on, you. Come on.’
I pressed my son from me, because that’s what he was, he was my son and the love I had for him was of a quality I’d never before experienced. I could have given him birth so close was the feeling I had for this child, and he for me. Oh yes, and he for me.
He was standing now with his head bowed, rubbing his nose on the side of his first finger, and I endeavoured to bring things back to everyday normality by saying, ‘Harold Leviston, what have I told you about that finger and your nose?’
‘Oh, you!’ He was groping for his handkerchief again and when he put it to his face he made great play of blowing into it while his eyes blinked at me.
When we kissed goodbye, he said, ‘See you tomorrow.’
‘You’ll not.’
I looked at Janet.
‘Well, you’re not fit yet, ma’am.’
‘Of course I am … please.’
‘All right then. Well, I’ll let one of the others bring him because they’re all mad to come. Oh, I must tell you.’ She came and bent over me and her mouth moved from one side to the other before she said, ‘My ’Arry sent you a message, ma’am. “Give her my best respects,” he said. Did you ever! Give her my best respects. I said to him, “That sayin’ went out with your granny.”’
‘That was very nice of him, Janet.’
She sighed. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I suppose it was, because he never gives a damn, I mean a thought, to anybody but himself. Yes.’ She laughed now. ‘Huh! Yes, I suppose it was when you come to think of it … Come on, you!’ She held out her hand; then looking at me tenderly, she said, ‘Take care. The house isn’t the same. It won’t be until you get inside again.’ And at this, she grabbed her grandson and without further ado made for the door; and when from there he shouted his last goodbye I lay back and closed my eyes, and smiled.
I had been asleep again. I was always wanting to sleep; I was so tired. I remember they woke me up for dinner, which I insisted on managing myself after they had cut up everything to size. Yet when the nurse came to take the tray away she said, ‘You’ve hardly touched a thing.’
‘I’m not hungry, nurse.’
‘You’ve got to eat.’
Yes, I had to eat, but what I wanted more was just to sleep, peacefully sleep, because when I slept now I dreamt. I dreamt that all my limbs were moving: I was walking; I was running; I was sitting; I was standing; I was chasing Harold and Sandy across the heath.
Sandy. I never asked where Sandy was. Oh no, he couldn’t be left on his own from Janet leaving in the early afternoon until she returned the next morning. My worry must have shown on my face for the nurse asked, ‘Now what’s the matter?’
‘My dog. I don’t know what’s happened to my dog.’
‘Oh, your dog. The white poodle?’
‘Yes, the white poodle.’
‘Oh, I understand your caretaker’s looking after him. He and his wife brought him the other day. They kept him in the forecourt; the husband thought you might be able to see him out of the window; he didn’t know you hadn’t come round. I wouldn’t worry about him. If you were as well as him you would do, my dear. What you’ve got to worry about is yourself, and eating.’
I wondered as she fussed over me how she and all her like managed to keep this caring attitude for one and another of those that passed through their hands. I was sure I couldn’t do it. They were a special breed; but all different. Some were a bit stiff and proper, never thinking of calling you my dear, but giving you your full title while doing everything that was required of them.
Later that night, as I dropped off to sleep, I knew there was someone else who was caring for me, and very deeply, for Tommy was still sitting there, just as, I understood, he had done most nights since I was first brought into hospital.
I had been transferred to a private ward and visitors were allowed in any time. However, they didn’t usually put in an appearance until after the doctor’s round which I had come to know was usually over by eleven o’clock. But on this Sunday morning the breakfast tray had hardly been taken away when a head appeared round the door. The bush around the face seemed to get greyer every time I saw it, and on this appearance I again caused a pain to shoot down my spine as I tried to turn on my side as I cried, ‘Mike! Oh, Mike! Where’ve you sprung from?’ I was muttering the words into his beard as he kissed me.
‘A quite comfortable hotel, madam. I came down last night late on, couldn’t get away earlier. Jane had arranged to come with me when at t
he last moment her dear mother arrived. You’ve never met my mother-in-law, have you?’
‘No. No, Mike.’ I was smiling widely.
‘Well, she’s the original stand-up comic’s target.’
‘Oh, Mike.’
As he pulled a chair up towards the bed, he said, ‘She’s not really; but she comes on the hop, no phone message, nothing, just lands on the doorstep and expects her only daughter to wait on her as she did before we were married … How are you feeling, dear?’ His voice had dropped.
‘Which part are you enquiring about, Mike?’
He chuckled. ‘Oh, you’re reviving,’ he said; ‘I think my journey’s been unnecessary. Well, we’ll start with the head. That got the most bashing.’
‘It aches.’
‘It’s bound to. But he did a good job on you, he’s a clever fellow. They don’t come any better, so I understand. Your leg and your arm. Oh, that’s ordinary, just compound fractures, they’re nothing.’ He pulled a face. ‘How’s the middle?’
‘I don’t know, Mike. What did they do to the middle?’
‘Oh, I think they untangled your guts. Put a couple of rivets or so in your pelvis and sorted it out generally.’
‘Oh, is that all?’
‘As far as I know.’ He caught my hand now, saying, ‘You’re the luckiest girl alive. My God! You should have died with that subdural haematoma.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Well, to put it simply, it’s a blood clot between the bone of the skull and the brain. That’s why you were fluctuating in and out of consciousness.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. It was a tricky business. He had to drill a burr hole in your skull and aspirate the blood clot. It was touch and go with you for a time. I hope those three get their just deserts, the same as Stickle got his. Odd that you had to get rid of that pain only to have a worse one taking its place. Anyway, attempted murder will take care of them for some time, I’m sure of that. But by! You do pick ’em, don’t you, the men in your life?’
‘Yes, I seem to, don’t I? But don’t forget there was Nardy, and before him George, and now Tommy, and all the while, right from the beginning, you.’
The whole bush of hair round his face moved as he muttered, ‘Stop your soft-soaping.’ Then he added, ‘But it’s good to see you looking … well, different. I hadn’t much hope the first time I glimpsed you.’
‘You’ve been before?’
‘What do you think? I’ve been twice. You spoke to me the second time, and you know what you said?’
‘No?’
‘Hamilton.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘You did. Had he come back?’
I tried to think, then said, ‘Yes, yes, I think he did.’
‘You are going to marry Tommy?’
‘Oh.’ I thought a moment, then said, ‘Yes. Yes, I suppose so, some time.’
‘Don’t make it some time, make it soon. He’s a good fellow. He’s another Nardy, only twice the size.’
‘There could never be another Nardy, Mike.’
‘They say there’s never a good but there’s a better, but in this case I’ll say he’s as good as.’
‘Have you met the Mohican?’ Why should I talk about the Mohican when we were talking about Tommy? ‘I mean since he stopped being the Indian.’
‘Yes; I’ve met him once since he reverted to himself and I take back all I said about him. He’s a brave man. They’ve got to be, doing that kind of job. Over two years he played that game, so I understand; it’s a wonder he didn’t become an addict himself. I said he was, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, you did. He’s a nice person, Mike, very nice.’
‘I’ve no doubt of it, none whatever.’ He put his head to one side, then asked, ‘How old is he, do you think?’
‘Twenty-seven, twenty-eight.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t have thought he was that; a bit younger I would have said, twenty-four.’
‘I thought they had to be a certain age before they got into the CID.’
‘Oh yes, yes, perhaps. Well now’—his tone became brisk—‘this is a short visit, my dear, because I promised Jane I’d be home shortly after two, so I’ll have to catch that eleven o’clock, and before I leave I want to have a word with your man. Sister tells me he should be around about this time, being Sunday.’
As he looked at his watch I said, ‘It was good of you to come, Mike. I’m … I’m so grateful. It’s been almost as good as my Monday visit to the surgery.’
He now rose and bent over me, saying, ‘Nothing will ever be as good or as amusing or aggravating as those Monday morning visits. Do you exclaim “wh … at” to the doctor when he comes round?’
‘Yes, every time.’
He laughed. ‘That was a funny habit you had, wasn’t it? I’ve never heard anybody exclaim “What!” like you did.’
‘There weren’t many patients like me, Mike.’
‘No, you’re right there. By, you’re right there. Well, my dear … ’ Again he kissed me, and I put my hand onto his thick hair as I said, ‘Give my love to Jane, and thank her for sparing you. She’s a very understanding woman. Goodbye, love.’
He patted my cheek, walked two or three steps backwards, saluted, then turned and hurried out.
I loved that man. Yes, yes, I did, I loved him, and I wasn’t going to differentiate between a father and a brother or a husband or a lover, I just loved him.
I knew that Tommy wouldn’t be in until later in the afternoon because he had run down to Brighton to see Bella, who was ill too.
It being Sunday, however, I knew there would probably be visitors after lunch; but the only one I was looking forward to seeing was Harold.
I had just settled myself for yet another nap when the door opened and the nurse called, ‘You have some visitors, Mrs Leviston.’ And there, as large as life, were Gran and George.
‘Hello, pet.’
‘Hello, love.’
They were bending over me.
‘How you feelin’? Eeh! What a mess-up.’ That was Gran. ‘My God! Lass, where’ve you gone to? You were little afore, but look at you!’
I hadn’t been able to say a word. They were now seated close together at the side of the bed and my voice was thick as I said, ‘How lovely to see you.’
‘Not half as lovely as seein’ you, lass.’
I smiled at George. He was looking older: his hair was quite grey, in fact it was as if I hadn’t seen him for years. Gran looked the same. She was ageless. And the next moment she proved that her tongue too had not altered, for she said, ‘Eeh by! You’re the one for notoriety, aren’t you? Gettin’ yourself into the papers. My God! For two days you hit the front pages, all mixed up with Indians and gangsters and drug runners. We couldn’t believe it, could we, Georgie?’
At this point, leaning towards me, Georgie picked up my hand and said, ‘But she was a hero … female-like, heroine.’
‘Well, it’s all how you look at it; she might have been a dead heroine. You don’t look half alive yet.’ And she put out her fingers and patted my face.
‘Oh, Gran.’
‘What d’you say it like that for, lass? You could have been dead, all through gettin’ mixed up with those funny people. You should never have left home; they’re a queer lot up this end. I’ve said it afore, and I’ll say it again. And when Georgie here came back and told me how you looked, eeh! I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t come ’cos Mary was down with a summer cold. It hung on, and I had to see to the bairns.’ Gran was nodding as if to emphasise her words.
Mary and the bairns were her first concern now. How things changed; how people changed. But then, in this case, that’s how it should be.
Gran leant towards me as she said, ‘Kitty sends her love.’
The fact that Gran was telling me that Kitty had sent her love was in the form of a reproach. Whether intended or not, that’s how I saw it, and that it all stemmed from my interest in Harold. And this seemed to b
e verified by her very next words: ‘It’s goin’ to be a long time afore you’re yourself again, lass, and able to see to that youngster.’
‘Oh, it won’t be all that long.’ I tried to keep my tone level. ‘And anyway, he’s staying with Janet. She’s seeing to him.’
‘Best place for him, among his own kind.’
‘Mam!’ George’s voice was loud. ‘I told you, didn’t I, keep off it.’
‘Yes, I know what you told me. But I know what I think, and all this trouble started with him.’
‘Gran.’
‘Aye, lass.’ Her voice had softened.
‘It isn’t fair; you’re hitting me when I’m down, because I’m not up to a fight.’
‘Who wants to fight? Not me. But you know me, I have to say what I think.’
Yes, yes, I knew Gran: she had to say what she thought. But years ago her thoughts had been softer, more tender. That was when I had needed her.
It was George who now asked, ‘You in much pain, lass?’
‘Not too much,’ I answered, ‘nothing that I can’t manage. A bit of a headache all the time.’
‘My! They were a lot of dirty buggers weren’t they?’
‘Yes, Gran; they were a lot of dirty buggers.’
My head, as I’d said, ached all the time, but now it thumped with her next words.
‘It said in the papers the other day that they can’t bring them to trial yet until you’re well enough to give evidence. That’ll be another big splash in the papers.’
I closed my eyes and drew in a long breath. A court case. I’d never thought about that. Of course, I’d never thought about much since I’d come round. Things had to be triggered off in my mind, and Gran’s remarks certainly triggered off my fear of being in a court. Even thinking about my past experience filled me with a sick dread, let alone the thought of facing those men again.
I was aware that George was whispering something to Gran, and for answer she dug him with her elbow; then bending to the side, she picked up her carrier bag and from it brought out a fancy wrapped box which she laid on the bed saying, ‘That’s from Mary. It’s chocolates. And this’—she now handed me a large envelope—‘is letters from the bairns.’ Then dipping into her bag again, she brought out another small parcel, saying, ‘That’s from me, it’s scent.’
Harold Page 17