The Man Who Cried

by Catherine Cookson

  When he did move it was almost with a spring, then he was on his feet, and with both hands he tore at the shackle around his ankle.

  Now he was standing over her, and as he gazed down on her a new fear enveloped him. She looked dead; there was blood running down the side of her face from her hair. Oh my God! He put his hand tightly across his mouth, then turned his head slowly to-5i

  wards Dick as the boy said, ”She’s bleedin’, Dad^he’s bleedin’.”

  Reluctantly, he lowered himself down on to his knees beside her on the stone floor but he had to force his hand out to take hold of her wrist. When a pulse beat came to him he closed his eyes and drew in a long breath. With more courage now, he took her by the shoulder and called to her as if she were at a distance, ”Wake up ! Come on, wake up!” But the only movement she made, and that an involuntary one, was when her head fell to one side and the flow of blood oozing through her hair increased.

  He pulled himself to his feet and stood rubbing his chaffed wrist as he looked down on her. It could be just a surface scrape. . . . But what if there was a gash there and she bled to death ? He stepped back. Well, whatever happened to her he wasn’t staying to find out. He’d had enough, more than enough. Staggering now as if slightly drunk, he said, ”Come on, get your pack, we’re going.” Dick obeyed him immediately by grabbing up his rucksack and ramming his blanket into it; then he ran to the opening of the barn and there he waited, his body half turned as if on the point of a

  run.

  When Abel reached the barn door, his rucksack hitched high on his shoulders, he turned and gave one last look towards the figure lying now like a dead animal waiting to be carted away; then turning swiftly, his hand on the boy’s shoulder, he propelled him across the yard at a run. But having passed through the gate, he stopped. He did not look back but stared ahead. What if she didn’t recover and lay there all day, perhaps into the night and died of exposure ? They could have him up.

  Don’t be silly. He shook his head at himself. Nobody knew he had been here; it could be days before anyone looked in again. . . . Aye, it could, and she’d certainly be dead by then.

  It was as if the words had been spoken by somebody else and they brought his chin in to his chest, and when the boy’s hand gripped his and the small voice said, ”What’s the matter, Dad?”

  he took no notice but continued to stand, his head bent, until, giving another hitch to the rucksack, he walked on.

  Five minutes later he was standing on top of the hill looking into the distance down on to the cluster of houses he had noticed the night before last and to the left where lay a narrow strip of road leading to them. And now, so quickly did he go down the hill that the boy had to run to keep up with him.

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  The first cottage they came to was actually some three hundred yards from the village itself, and as he passed the gate the door opened and a man came out, evidently a farm worker. He stood on the step for a moment and gazed at the pair before saying, ”Mornin’.”

  ”Good mornin’.” Abel stopped and waited for the man to come to the gate and he definitely surprised the man by saying abruptly, ”Is there a doctor in that village, or ... or a polis . . .

  policeman?”

  ’Aye, there’s one but not t’other. Polis is a good two miles away but Doc Armstrong, he’s in the first house.” The man nodded along the road.

  ”Thanks, thanks.” Abel was about to hurry away when the man added, ”But you won’t find him there this mornin’, he’s over at young Phil Gallespie’s ; his wife’s havin’ her first, an’ hard goin’

  with her it is they say. Saw doc goin’ along there past the gate here with his buggy close on ten last night, hasn’t come back yet, else wife would have heard him. Light sleeper she is, wake half the night, sleeps half the day. You feelin’ bad or summat?”

  ”No, no.” Abel shook his head. ”It’s . . . it’s the lady over . . . over at the pig farm; she’s had an accident.”

  ”Ah, Miss Tilda.” The man smiled broadly now. ”What’s happened Tilly-the-touched now ?”

  Abel paused before answering. Tilly-the-touched, he had called her; it must be common knowledge that she was barmy. ”She . . . she had a fall.”

  ”Well, I shouldn’t worry about her, the doc will see to her when he gets back. Related he is to her, half-cousin he is ; the only one that bothers about her . . . ’cos he’s the only one she’ll allow to bother about her. Barmy, barmy for years. She should be locked up, everybody says so. ...

  Speak of the devil, there, look ! there’s the buggy. That’s the doc comin’ back. See, round the end of the road there. You’d better go and tell him, although he won’t thank you ’cos he’ll be wantin’ his bed.”

  Abel nodded, then hurried along the road with Dick following him towards the advancing trap, and just before coming abreast of the horse he hailed the driver and, looking up at the man sitting on the leather-covered seat, he said, ”Excuse me, sir.”

  The doctor drew the trap to a stop and, gazing wearily down at Abel, asked, ”Yes, what is it?”

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  ”It’s . . . it’s the lady over at the pig farm.” He didn’t say your relative. ”There’s something I must tell you.”

  He watched the doctor ease his soft trilby from off his brow and push his fingers through his hair, then almost sigh, ”What’s happened now ?”

  ”Well, sir, I stopped there the night before last and asked if we could sleep in the barn, my son and I” - he nodded towards Dick ”an’ she said, yes, if... if I worked for a night’s rest and some food. This I did all day yesterday. Then she got it into her head that she wanted me to stay on.

  She . . . she tried to make me promise and I said I couldn’t, we ... we were leaving in the morning. You see I am making me way North. Well. . . well -” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe the substance of what he was about to say and he brought the words out at a rush; ”Believe it or not, sir, she had me chained up. When I woke up I found meself chained both by the ankle and the wrist.” He held up his hand to show the chaffed skin. ”She must have put something in the cocoa she brought last night because I remember nothing until, as« I said, I woke up. Then she kept at me to swear by the Bible. I would have sworn on anything to get loose, but when I promised she just left. Well” - he again shook his head - ”to cut it short, sk, I got my boy to look for a piece of wood or anything with which I could hit out at her. He found an iron rod and . . . and I used it on her, but only on her arm. As she fell she must have struck her head against the stone floor for it split open somewhere at the back. I tried to get her round, but I couldn’t. Anyway, all I wanted was to get away from that place but. . . but I thought. . . well, she might peg out lying there. I’m sorry. I ... I didn’t mean to hurt her but to find meself chained up, well, I nearly went mad, I ...”

  ”It’s all right, it’s all right, don’t harass yourself.” The doctor sighed. ”But I think you’d better come back with me.”

  ”Back there ?” Abel stepped on to the grass verge in protest, saying, ”Oh no! sir. I don’t want to go back there ever; I don’t want to see that place again.”

  ”Well, from what you’ve told me I’m afraid I’ll have to insist. What if she’s dead ? Come on, don’t worry, get the boy up, the sooner we get there the sooner we’ll see what damage has been done.”

  Abel hesitated for a moment before swinging Dick up into the 54

  back of the trap; then pulling himself up, he sat in the corner of the seat, his body bent forward, his hands hanging between his knees, the rucksack still on his back. . . .

  It seemed to him it was only seconds later when there he was again standing in that awful barn looking down on the woman while the doctor examined her.

  ”Well, she’s not dead. It’ll take more than a fall I’m afraid to kill Matilda, but she’s got a nasty gash in the back of her head and I’m afraid you’ve managed to break her arm. Now we’ve got to get her into the house. Give me
a hand. There’s nothing of her, she’s as light as a feather.”

  And Abel found she was indeed as light as a feather, he could have carried her himself, all her weight seemed to be in her clothes.

  ”We won’t get in the front door, we’ll have to go round the back.”

  Having pushed their way through the back door, then through a large kitchen, a hall and now into a sitting-room, Abel’s mouth almost fell into a gape with surprise, because the contrast between the inside and outside of the house was amazing. Everything here was shining; the furniture and the floors were polished to a high intensity, the curtains were white; there were even flowers in the vase on the table.

  ”Just lay her on the couch here.”

  ”I can’t believe it.”

  ”What?” The doctor looked to where Abel was standing gazing round the room, then said, ”Oh, the spruceness. Oh, that’s all part of Tilda . . . ah, she’s coming round. Look, help me to get these coats off her before she becomes fully conscious else I’ll never get them off. I’d better give her a jab ; then set her arm too, for they won’t have her in the hospital, they’ll send her over to the asylum and if she goes in this time she’ll never come out again. Poor Tilda.”

  Abel stood back from the couch. The woman had opened her eyes and though they were levelled on him they seemed expressionless, until their gaze took in the doctor; then there came into them a look of bright eagerness and she made to raise herself, saying as she did so, ”Oh, John! John!”

  ”It’s all right, Matilda, it’s all right. You’ve just had a fall.”

  ”John, make him stay.” Now she was clinging on to the doctor 55

  It’.

  and gabbling, ”He was sent by God to see to trahgs and get the place ready for Arthur coming back, but. . . but he wouldn’t stay. He wouldn’t stay, John. M ... make him stay, John. Make him stay.”

  ”All right, my dear, all right. Now just you lie back; you’ve hurt your arm and your head. I’m just going to give you a little jab and you’ll go to sleep, and when you wake up Molly will be here to see you. You don’t mind Molly, do you ?”

  ”I want him to stay, John. I want him to stay.”

  ”There you are. There you are.”

  When she closed her eyes and her body went limp the doctor turned to Abel and said, ”You certainly made an impression on her. Now let’s get her fixed up. Just hold her arm, so. . . .”

  It was not until half an hour later, in the kitchen, that the doctor, having poured out three cups of tea, was handing one to Abel and another to Dick, asked, ”Where do you hail from?”

  ”Sussex.”

  ”Oh, Sussex. Nice county Sussex. I know it well. Which part?”

  Abel hesitated a moment before saying, ”Hastings.”

  ”Oh, Hastings. I know Hastings and roundabout. What’s your name? In all the excitement I’ve forgotten to ask.”

  Abel hesitated. He had said that he came from Hastings and the man had said he knew Hastings and roundabout. Perhaps that was why in the next fleeting second he decided to give a false name. Well, it wasn’t exactly false, he told himself, for it was his mother’s maiden name.

  ”Gray,” he said. ”Abel Gray.”

  As the doctor turned again towards the teapot, nodding as he said, ”Gray. Oh, Gray,” Abel glanced swiftly at Dick and with an almost imperceptible shake of his head warned him to silence.

  ”I knew some Grays ; they lived in Rye. Have you any relations there?”

  ”No, sir.”

  ”Well, now, Mr Gray, what am I going to say to you for all the trouble Matilda has put you through ? I can understand it was a very frightening experience.”

  ”It was that. Yes, it was that.”

  ”You’re not going to make anything of it, report her or anything?”

  ”Oh, no, no, sir. All I want to do is to be on my way.”

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  ”That’s good of you. She’s to be pitied you know; she’s had a very sad life. We are related way back. Her mother and my father were second cousins. But there’s been insanity all along the line on her mother’s side. The poor woman ended up in the asylum and Matilda was left to bring herself up. All this business of the shining house, the waiting, goes back to a hand they had here.

  She fell in love with him and the young swine he was, he would have married her just to get the place and the money, only he got one of the village girls into trouble and so that put paid to the romance. Then he went to France and she’s still waiting for him coming back.”

  ”Yes, she told me; she said he was missing.”

  ”Missing!” The doctor laughed. ”It would be better for his wife if he was; she’s just given birth to her eleventh.”

  ”He certainly came back then.” There was a suspicion of a chuckle in Abel’s voice and the doctor laughed outright as he said, ”Oh yes, he certainly came back.” Then his laughter trailed away and he added sadly, ”But poor Tilda, she has this house all spruced up. Morning, noon and night she’s cleaning it; everything ready for his return. And so it’ll go on till the end. . . . Well now, you’ll want to get on your way, and if you’ll do me one last favour you’ll knock on the door of the cottage where you met old Harry this morning and ask his wife to come up here as soon as she can. Will you do that for me ?”

  ”Yes, gladly.”

  ”Now about money. What does she owe you ?”

  ”Well, she offered to give me a pound a week, but I -Couldn’t have stayed, not if it had been ten.

  I worked a full day yesterday. Still, I got my meals.”

  ”And a big shock along with them.”

  ”You’re right there. Yes, you’re right there, sir.”

  ”Well now -” The doctor went to the dresser at the far side of the kitchen and, opening a drawer, he took out a cash box and from it extracted two one-pound notes and, handing them to Abel, said, ”Will that do?”

  ’Oh, more than enough. But I won’t refuse it, thank you all the same.”

  ”And here.” Again the doctor was dipping into the cash box, and now taking out half a crown he handed it to Dick, saying, ”I’m sure you could make use of that.”

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  ’”,1^f^flfr’^frflfrf/r-”tlF

  ”Oh ta. Thank you, sir. Thank you.” *

  The doctor patted his head; then nodded towards the kitchen door and said, ”Go and get your pack,” and as Dick obeyed him the doctor put his hand gently on Abel’s arm restraining him for a moment, and when the boy was out of earshot, he said, ”Are you aiming to settle somewhere before the winter?” ”Oh, yes, certainly, sir.”

  ”Good, good. The child doesn’t look over robust, and he’s small for his age. You said he was what, seven ?”

  ”Yes, coming up eight. But he’s never ailed anything, he’s wiry.”

  ”Yes, well, in the long run it’s the wiry ones who turn out to be .^WV* the toughest, but I’d get shelter if I were you before the bad weather sets in.”

  ”I mean to do that, sir, definitely.”

  ”Good-bye then, and good luck. And thank you for being such a help back there.” He nodded towards the sitting-room.

  ”Thank you, sir, I never thought it would end so ... so peaceably ”

  They were once more walking out of the gate and as they strode the same path along which he had scudded in fear only an hour or so earlier he thought to himself, By! it’s a strange world.

  There was one thing to be said about the road, you did see life. But then he wouldn’t choose to see too much of the life he had seen in the last few days.

  Dick now broke into his thoughts saying, ”Why did you say our name was Gray, Dad ?”

  Abel looked down on the boy and paused before he answered, ”Well, I said I was from Hastings and he said he knew it well, so what was to stop him from enquiring about me should he ever go back there? It’s a small world, you know, and news could just seep through to her . . . your mother. It might sound improbable like but such things do happen. . . . You don’t want to g
o back, do you ?”

  ”Oh no ! Dad. And Gray’s a nice name.”

  ”It was your grandma’s maiden name.”

  ”Was it?” ”

  ”Yes.”

  ”Oh.”

  The knowledge seemed to please the boy and, looking up at 58

  Abel, he now said, ”He gave me a full half-crown, Dad. But I won’t spend it, I’ll save it.”

  Abel looked down on his son steadily for a moment, thinking, he could have added, ”for a rainy day”, and the doctor’s words came back to him ”He doesn’t look over robust and he’s small for his age. Get into some place for the winter.” . . . Get them into some place before the winter ?

  But what if he couldn’t ? What then, the workhouse ?

  He shook his head at the thought and his step quickened.

  What did one do under circumstances like these? Pray? Pray that something might turn up ?

  Everybody on the road was praying for something to turn up; he would have to aim his prayer higher and ask for a miracle.

  Î9

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  r

  PART TWO

  The Miracle

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  Another eleven days had passed since they left Leeds and for the last five it had rained almost incessantly. They had been soaked to the skin and for three nights had slept wet. Abel was experiencing a new misery, one that was now bordering on despair. There were two avenues open to him; the first, to go into the workhouse and stay there for the winter. Were he to do so he knew he would be separated from the boy, but the child would be assured of shelter and of some form of education. The alternative was to make for North Shields where lived his half-cousin, John Pratt. The snag here was that Lena also had relatives living there, and once she knew of his presence there she would come scurrying across country and, to put it in her own words, claim her rights as a wife, which simply meant someone to work for her.