The Wingless Bird

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘I don’t know. It’s how long it takes us.’

  ‘Don’t be coy with me, woman!’

  ‘Was I being coy, Mr Conway? Well, well.’ She walked slowly towards the door, and Jessie followed her almost at a run.

  It was when Agnes reached the door that her father came to her side and, bending, he said, ‘Keep your eyes open.’

  She turned and looked into his face, saying, ‘Why?’

  ‘You know why; right well you know why.’

  In walking away from him she had to make an effort to keep her steps steady. As they went through the shop Nan nodded to each one in turn, but no-one responded to her. Then they were in the sunlit street, and there Jessie did something that brought her mother and Agnes to a halt, for she turned right round and looked back at the shops and up at the windows above them.

  ‘You forgotten something?’

  ‘Not a thing, Mother. Not a thing.’

  Alice Conway looked from Jessie to Agnes as if to say, What did she mean by that? And Agnes, almost on a stutter said, ‘I…I th…th…think we’ll go to Fenwick’s first.’

  And this is what they did…

  ‘Is this where you thought you saw the dress?’

  ‘Well’—Agnes looked about her—‘I thought it was. It…it must have been in another department. Yes, there’s another department through that opening. It must be in there.’ She turned and looked at Jessie now, and as she did so she rubbed her forefinger along the bottom of her nose as if it was irritating her. And at this Jessie, hurriedly and under her breath, said, ‘I feel I must go…go to the Ladies’, Mother.’

  ‘Where is the Ladies’?’

  It was Agnes who answered as she pointed, ‘It’s over there.’ And then looking at Jessie she said, ‘Go on then. Don’t be too long.’ And at this Jessie turned about and, between a trip and a run, made her way towards the Ladies’. And Agnes turned back to her mother and said, ‘Over here. I’ve got a feeling it was at this end.’

  With only a short glance towards the Ladies’, Alice Conway followed her elder daughter across the department and through an archway and into a section which Agnes knew was given over to nursery requirements and outsize gowns.

  ‘Yes, yes, I thought it was this department. Yes. Yes. Look at these outsize gowns.’ She was gabbling now but her mother was looking at the price tag on a dress and she turned her head and exclaimed, ‘Four pounds! It’s ridiculous. It’s neither shape nor make.’

  ‘There’s…there’s quite a lot of material in it, Mother.’

  ‘Look’—her mother was nodding at her—‘I know how much material it takes to make a dress. Don’t tell me. You could get something similar to this at Rolley’s stall in the market for fifteen shillings or less—oh yes, less.’

  ‘They don’t sell maternity goods in the market, Mother,’ said Agnes now, moving on. ‘Look at that one,’ she pointed beyond the counter: ‘It’s three pounds ten; it’s very nice.’

  ‘It’s still far too much for this kind of thing. Where is she, anyway?’ She turned round and looked towards the archway through which they had come and Agnes said, ‘Her stomach was upset. She was in the closet a number of times before we came out.’

  ‘Huh!’

  Agnes now went over to a counter and picked up a little woollen coat and holding it before her she said over her shoulder, ‘This is nice, isn’t it? Sweet.’

  ‘There’s plenty of time to see things like that.’

  ‘But…but I thought you said to Father that she’d want other things. And you know how mad he’d get if he saw her knitting baby things.’

  ‘Yes, but let’s get this dress or overall or whatever seen to first. Anyway, where is she? Look, go and see what she’s up to.’

  ‘Mother’—Agnes turned and confronted her—‘I know exactly what she’s up to. She’s in the Ladies’ and…and she must be feeling unwell.’ She closed her eyes for a moment as she said to herself, And I’m feeling unwell, so unwell. How long has she been gone? Three minutes? Five minutes? Yes, five minutes. She’ll be well clear now.

  As if obeying her mother she turned and walked slowly back towards the arch and through it and across the other department to the Ladies’ and, opening the door, she went in. One woman was washing her hands, another was looking in the mirror. This was an innovation, having washbasins in the toilets. She went into one of the cubicles, and when she came out she had the room to herself and, looking in the mirror, she saw that her face was utterly colourless, her eyes looked enormous and there was a look of definite fear in them. What would be the outcome at the end of the day? Dear God! She wished she knew. But she couldn’t stay here any longer. And now the act must begin and be played out before her mother. She made herself hurry across the department and through the arch again to where her mother was talking to an assistant about the dress that cost four pounds.

  ‘Mother!’

  Alice Conway glanced towards her, but it was the expression on her daughter’s face that made her almost throw her body around and gasp, ‘What is it?’

  ‘She’s…she’s not in the Ladies’.’

  ‘What!’

  As Agnes watched her mother run across the department she turned to the assistant, saying, ‘Excuse me.’ Then she hurried after her mother and within a minute found herself back in the ladies’ room, her mother looking around as if she would see Jessie hiding somewhere there.

  There was still no-one other than themselves in the room, and Alice now cried aloud, ‘God in heaven! Do you know what’s happened?’

  ‘I…I think I do.’

  ‘You think you do! She’s…she’s run away.’

  ‘Perhaps…perhaps not. Perhaps we’re wrong. Perhaps she’s just looking round. Calm yourself, Mother. Calm yourself. Let’s just look round the store. You know she hasn’t been out for weeks and…and she’s just feeling…well, what it’s like to be free.’

  ‘Shut up! Shut up, will you? She wouldn’t wander round the store by herself, and she hasn’t any money.’

  That’s all her mother knew. Jessie had twenty pounds: nineteen pounds wrapped up in chamois leather and in a pocket sewn onto her first petticoat, the twentieth sovereign in her glove waiting for an emergency, such as hiring a cab. She hadn’t been carrying a handbag. This had been decided to convey to her mother there was no need for it, as she hadn’t any money.

  ‘Calm yourself, Mother. You’re in a shop.’

  ‘Yes, I’m in a shop, girl!’ Alice’s voice was a hiss now. ‘But do you know where we’ll both be when we get home and tell him she’s gone? Likely end up in hell. Remember what he did to that fellow. Oh, God in heaven! I could kill her myself if I had her here this minute. I could, I could. All the trouble she’s caused me, the shame, the disgrace and now this. To have to put up with him and his reactions; because, let me tell you, he doesn’t care two hoots for you or me; for me less than you because you are useful to him. But her…he thought the sun shone out of her, because you know why? Do you know why, Agnes? Because I’m not her mother and you’re not her sister. She was adopted; she was the daughter of his whore.’

  The words rang out and caused those in the vicinity to turn in amazement and stare at the middle-aged woman bending towards the younger one, whose mouth was agape.

  It was Agnes who became aware of the stares. Gripping her mother’s arm, she almost ran her out of the shop and into the street; and there, bringing her to a halt, she said, ‘You’re imagining it, aren’t you?’

  Alice Conway shook her head slowly now and said, ‘No, lass, I’m not imagining it. That’s why she’s done what she’s done; she’s reverted to class. You would never have done that because, like me, you would have had some pride; like me, you would have kept your mouth shut for years.’

  Agnes watched her mother now put her hand to her head and close her eyes, which prompted her to take her arm and ask, ‘Are you all right? Look; there’s a tea shop over there, we’ll go and have a cup of tea.’

  ‘No, no; we�
�d better go home.’

  ‘It’s no good, Mother: no matter what time we get home he won’t get her back.’

  ‘You know something?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know a lot. But come and sit down.’

  When they were seated at the corner table and had ordered tea, Agnes, drawing deep on her breath, said, ‘Did you mean what you said, that…that Jessie is not my sister? She is not your child?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, every word of it. And now perhaps…well, I know I’ve been funny over the years; eating has been my one consolation, I think. It’s a good job I didn’t take to drink.’

  ‘But…but who is she then? Who is Jessie?’

  ‘Well, it isn’t a very long story, but it’s very telling. He was supposed to be so deeply in love with his first wife. Anyway, he was comforting himself with a woman whose man went to sea. I didn’t know this; perhaps I wasn’t looking at that side of him; all I wanted, and I can be frank now, was to hook him, as he points out, because he had a good business going and I had just been let down by somebody, and none of my people seemed to bother with me. So he was a kind of a snip. Then I found out about his fancy woman, so I left him.’

  ‘You left him?’

  ‘Yes, I left him. I left him for six months. I was supposed to be looking after an aunt in Harrogate. I took you with me and I also took all his takings for the week. I felt I was due them to keep me going for a time. Then I got a job as a sort of housekeeper to another shopkeeper and part of my duty was to look after his child and serve in the shop and do the housework and the cooking, the lot. It was hell. So, when he arrived one day and asked me to come back, well, I did and without much protesting. You see, his fancy piece had died in childbirth and the child, his child, was going to be put out for adoption. But I came back into a scandal, for the disgrace was put on me: it was supposed to be my child. You see, Arthur has always been very discreet about his pastimes. Anyway, I was so tired and down at the time I let it pass. Can you remember nothing about that time?’

  Agnes shook her head, then said, ‘The only thing is, I often have a dream, which I can’t understand, about a dog scratching my face.’

  Her mother gave a short laugh as she said, ‘Oh, well, you remember, all right, because there was a dog. It was a puppy and you liked to hold him, and the boy, his boy, used to scratch you. One day his nails drew blood and I skelped him and the man went for me. I think that’s what really decided me on coming back. I couldn’t stand the situation any longer. Anyway, Agnes, you are my only daughter and somehow we’ve never really hit it off, and it has been my fault because I’ve lived with bitterness, it seems, all my life, and especially when he took up with his latest piece. Oh, yes, that was the end. Sometimes I’ve wanted to go into that room next door and kill him. I really have.’

  Agnes now rose and, holding the back of her chair, pulled it round the small table and placed it near her mother’s and, taking her hands, she looked into her face and said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t understand. If only I’d known, I wouldn’t have felt like this towards…’ She stopped.

  ‘Yes, I’ve known how you’ve felt towards me, and also Jessie. I could understand her because blood’s thicker than water, no matter what they say; so there was always a barrier between me and Jessie. And I’ve been torn to shreds many times when I’ve seen the palaver he’s made over her. That’s why he went mad at that fellow that night; he could see her reverting to type.’

  ‘But…but Jessie is refined, I mean…’

  ‘On the outside, lass, on the outside, through the schooling and that, but she was bred from a common slut of a woman. I know, because I made it my business to find out about the mother. And my dear husband wasn’t the only one she was running at the time. But the rest scattered when she was carrying the bairn and, as I’ve thrown at him, he doesn’t even know if Jessie’s his or not.’

  Agnes watched her mother put her head back and open her mouth wide as if she were laughing loudly. No sound of laughter, however, issued from her lips, but she spoke, saying, ‘I was frightened just now when I went for you, frightened of Jessie’s doing a bunk, so to speak; but now you know, lass, I’ll take pleasure in telling him. Yes, I will. Why shouldn’t I, eh? Because if ever there was a two-faced individual in this world, he’s one. Everyone likes Arthur Conway because he’s a jolly fellow. Oh, he’s been a bit of a lad, they say, yes, yes. That’s what they say.’ She was nodding now. ‘But which man hasn’t, I ask you? Oh, Arthur Conway’s all right, but her, his wife, is a sour puss. Oh, I know their opinion; and they’ve often tacked upstart on to it an’ all. But we’ll see who laughs in the end. Don’t look so sad, lass. One thing I’m glad about, you and me know each other now. Oh, yes, yes. Don’t keep anything back from me. Talk to me. Let me know there’s one person in the house that knows the truth.’

  Agnes had a strong desire to throw her arms about this woman, this woman who was her mother, but whom, she had said openly, she disliked. How did one know anything about another’s life despite having lived close to them for twenty-two years? She said quietly, ‘They’ll be married now, at the Registry Office.’

  ‘You fixed it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Huh! Huh! Huh!’ Alice’s shoulders were shaking; she put her hand tightly over her mouth to suppress her laughter, then she said, ‘Will they still be in the city?’

  ‘Oh no, they are leaving straight away.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘I don’t know that, Mother. It’s left to him.’

  ‘God speed them and speed us, lass, to get home and break the news to him.’

  It was strange, but she was feeling a lightness over her whole body: it was as if she had never known a mother, that she herself had been adopted but had, in the last hour, been presented with a being who said she was her mother and had asked to be her friend. They linked arms as they went into the street, and she said to her, ‘Shall we walk or shall we take a cab?’

  ‘We’ll take a cab, lass, right to the door.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Arthur Conway yelled. ‘What are you saying?’

  Alice’s voice had a tremor in it now as she answered, ‘I’ve told you. She went to the Ladies’, and when Agnes here went for her she had gone, and…and we looked through the store and we couldn’t find her.’

  ‘You…couldn’t…find…her?’ His voice rose to a great roar that brought Agnes and her mother close together. While in the cab they had decided they should enlighten him quite coolly. Even so, before reaching home, Alice had admitted to being afraid of the confrontation, and now she was definitely showing her fear, yet aiming to act as her old self in crying at him, ‘Don’t yell at me like that, Mr Conway. She’s gone and that’s all about it.’

  ‘What are you saying, she’s gone and that’s all about it?’ He now thrust out his arm, but his hand didn’t touch her, it grabbed Agnes’ shoulder and pulled her forward, as he yelled at her this time: ‘You! What d’you know? Come on! Come on, tell me or I’ll throttle it out of you!’

  From where she found the strength she didn’t know; but she snapped his arm away and, almost jumping to the fireplace, she grabbed up a poker and brandished it at him as she said, ‘You handle me like that again, Father, and you’ll have this in return. I’m telling you. I can’t defend myself with my hands, but I can with this.’ Again she waved the poker at him and he stepped back from her, his head thrust out like some animal about to charge; but instead, he turned and rushed from the room, and they heard him running along the corridor, but not to the main bedroom, and Alice, hurrying to the far wall, listened; then suddenly turning to Agnes she hissed, ‘Oh, my God! He’s got a revolver. He keeps it locked up in there. He’ll likely think they’ve gone to the Feltons’ house. Knowing the kind of family, he’ll imagine they’re celebrating. Oh, dear God! Dear God!’

  ‘He…he doesn’t know where they live.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course. I went there, you know, to tell them about
the young man being taken into hospital. Oh, Mother.’ Agnes was now holding her head between her hands as she cried, ‘I…I’ll have to get there and warn them. He’ll be some time finding the place.’

  ‘Shh! Here he comes.’ Alice slipped back quickly to stand close to Agnes; but the hurrying footsteps passed the sitting-room door; then they heard the two kitchen doors being clashed one after the other, and Alice, almost pushing Agnes now, cried, ‘Go down the back way. Look, I’ve got a key.’ And she rushed into the kitchen; then back in the corridor she thrust it at Agnes, saying, ‘There! And take a cab. Take your bag. Where is it?’ They turned together to run back into the sitting room. The next minute Agnes let herself out through the back door and into the yard. But in the street she hesitated, to make sure her father wasn’t still anywhere close by.

  When she hailed a cab it happened to be the same one that had taken her on the night ride to the house, and the cabby said, ‘Well, hello, miss. You say you’re goin’ to the same place?’

  ‘Yes, please. And…and would you mind hurrying as quickly as you can?’

  ‘I’ll talk to me horse, miss, and see what kind of a temper he’s in…’

  When she paid him he said, ‘Want me to hang on, miss?’

  She thought for a moment, then said, ‘Yes. Yes, please,’ but quickly changed her mind: ‘No. No, thank you. You see, I don’t know how long I’m likely to be.’

  ‘As you say, miss. As you say.’

  She did not even bother to touch the knocker but hammered with her fist on the door and when it opened she thrust the man aside and rushed into the kitchen, only to be brought to a stop, for seated at the table next to Mrs Felton was a woman whom she then realised must be the daughter; and standing at the other side of the table were two of her sons. She couldn’t place either by name or the one who had opened the door to her, but she gabbled at them, ‘My father…my father knows. He…he could be here shortly. He must think they are here, my sister and your son.’ She nodded towards Betty Felton, who had now risen to her feet. ‘He’s quite mad and he’s got a gun…’