The Man Who Cried

by Catherine Cookson

  Molly now rose abruptly to her feet and, coming to the end of the table, she now pushed Dick out of the room, across the hall and into the kitchen. When she had closed the door he turned to her and said on a laugh, ”I can understand your death wish, but what’s she got against me? I haven’t set eyes on her now for months.”

  Molly now went and adjusted the blackout over the kitchen window and from there she said,

  ”Nothing more than she’s got against anyone else.”

  He was silent for a moment, then said, ”Well, I’d better get in next door; but if Dad’s in I’ll come straight back and stay with you just in case there’s any high jinks.”

  She said nothing to this but went towards the back door and was about to pull the blackout curtain back when his words stayed her hand and she held her pose for a full minute before she turned and looked at him with her eyes wide and her mouth 188

  slightly open, and he repeated what he had said, ”I love you, Molly, I had to say it some time. I told meself when the siren went the other night, almost at the same time as the bomb dropped, that it might have been the finish of both of us and you’d never have known how I really feel about you, and so I made up me mind that the very next time it went I’d ... I’d tell you, just in case I didn’t get another chance. And . . . and you needn’t come back with, ”There’s four years between us, not to mention the two inches and a bit,” I know all that, it’s been drummed into me for as long as I can remember. But the years and the inches don’t make any difference to what’s inside. I ... I can’t remember a time when I haven’t loved you, Molly. But I ... I don’t want you to be troubled with what I’ve said, ’cos . . . ’cos I know what you think of me, just pally like.”

  ”O ... h you! Dickie Gray, you fool.” Her lips were trembling, her head was bent towards him, and now her voice shook as she said, ”Why? Why do you think” - she made a quick movement with her thumb towards the kitchen door - ”she detests the sight of you, eh ? It’s . . . it’s because .

  . . well, it’s because she knows how I’ve felt about you ever since you first came into the yard.

  But I was that four years older, I was a big sister then, then I was a young woman and you were the schoolboy. Now I’m nearly the old maid” - there was a high treble note in her voice ”and you’re a young man, a good-looking attractive young ...”

  They were holding each other tightly, not speaking, not kissing, just holding tightly. When they drew slightly apart they looked at each other, then almost shyly they kissed, a soft closedlipped kiss, almost like two children who were afraid of what they were about. That was until the querulous voice shattered them, crying, ”Molly! You Molly!”

  ”Damn!” But she laughed as she said it; then again they were kissing, hard and hungrily now, while the voice, louder, came at them, crying, ”Do you hear me? My back’s breaking. Molly!

  Molly!”

  As she pushed him from her, smiling into his face, she whispered, ”Come back. Come back as soon as you can.”

  He stood for a moment, his short slim body straight and steady, his shoulders remained still, his lids were unblinking. He swallowed deeply and his Adam’s apple bounced in his throat. He didn’t speak but, thrusting out his hands, he grabbed hers and 189

  held them at each side of his face for a moment, then turned quickly and without paying the required attention to the blackout he pulled the curtain aside and went out. . . .

  Hilda was in the kitchen. As she turned from the fire a look of disappointment on her face she said, ”Where’s your father?” ”I ... I thought he’d be in, he was only on till nine o’clock.” She sat down in the wooden chair and tapped her fingers on the arms a number of times before she said, as if to herself, ”He’s likely had to stay on.”

  ”Why don’t you come down into the shelter ?” ”You know I don’t like the shelter. I can’t bear the confined space.”

  ”It’s safer.”

  She cast a sideward glance at him as she asked, ”How safe would it be if they dropped a bomb on the house?” Then she added, ”You go down if you like.”

  ”Me!” His voice was high. ”I don’t want to go down there.”

  When he came and sat opposite her she brought her glance to bear on him with a penetrating stare before she said, ”What’s up with you, you look pleased with yourself? You . . . you haven’t heard differently from the air force after all ?”

  ”No, no.” He shook his head, and he felt a sense of added warmth as he realized that she was pleased he hadn’t heard; then half shamefacedly he said, ”I ... I think I’d better tell you, Aunt Hilda. I’m . . . I’m in love with Molly.”

  ”Huh!” She started to laugh, gently at first, then quite loudly. He’d never heard her laugh so freely for a long time; but slightly peeved, he said, ”You find it funny?”

  ”No, no, Dick; I don’t find it funny that you should be in love with Molly, but I do find it funny that you should tell me something I’ve known for years. In fact, you’ve plastered it all over the place, you might as well have put it up on billboards.” ”Oh! Aunt Hilda, it hasn’t been like that. I never . . .” She now flapped her hand at him, still laughing as she said, ”Yes, you did. Has there been a day for years past when you haven’t scampered over there on every possible occasion ?”

  ”Yes, yes.” He was laughing himself now. ”But I thought. . . well, I thought you would think I was just being pally.”

  ”Pally my foot! Anyway, that’s how you feel, what about her?”

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  He bit on his thumb nail twice before he said sofdy, ”I can’t believe it, she feels the same way.”

  ”Well, I could have told you that an’ all.”

  ”You don’t object in any way ?”

  ”Why should I?” Her voice was quiet, her face straight now. ”I’m glad, I’m glad for you. She’s older than you I know, but that’s what you need, Dick, someone older than you, steadier.”

  ”Yes, I suppose so.”

  ”Tell me” - she leant towards him now, her hands joined on her knee - ”I’ve wanted to ask you this for a long time. Is there, or has there been anything worrying you, I mean besides wondering about the air force and how Molly felt with regards to you ? Have you had anything on your mind ?”

  His shoulder jerked, his lids blinked and he rose to his feet as he said, ”No, no, nothing, nothing important. Is there any milk left? I wouldn’t mind a drink.”

  ”Dick” - her voice made him turn towards her again - ”I don’t believe you. I believe you’ve got something on your mind, something worrying you that’s caused these nerves. Now . . . now I’ve never mentioned her, your mother. I haven’t probed, have I?”

  Both shoulders jerked now, one after the other, then both together they almost cupped his head, and now she, too, rose to her feet, saying, ”It was your mother, wasn’t it ?”

  The beads of sweat rolled from his brow and down the sides of his cheeks as he muttered, ”Yes.

  Yes, in a way.”

  ”What did she do to make you like this ?”

  ”Oh” - he looked downwards and shook his head from side to side - ”she was just bad-tempered and . . . and used to box my ears. . . .”

  . . . ”Oh my God!” They had sprung the distance between them and were clutching on to each other as the house shuddered.

  She hadn’t realized she had said ”Oh my God!” and she was saying it again when he cried, ”It’s all right. It’s all right.” Then he listened for a moment before adding, ”He’s gone, over the town way I think, the anti-aircraft’s coming from that direction.”

  As he released his hold on her and went to make for the door, she shouted, ”No, no! don’t go out yet, Dick, not yet.” Then putting her hand to her face, she said, ”There’s another one!”

  Again he said, ”It’s all right; it must be in the town.”

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  ”And another! Oh, dear, dear, Lord!”

  ”Come on into the shelter.”

  ”No, n
o.” She shook her head wildly, then muttered, ”Abel. Where would he be?”

  ”He’ll be in the post or thereabouts and that first one was t’other side of here and nowhere near the post, so don’t worry. Look; sit down, I’ll make you a drink.”

  She allowed him to press her into a chair, and like a small girl she now sat with her hands joined in front of her knees, her body rocking slightly all the while.

  He had just handed her the cup of tea when he heard his name being shouted and before he could get to the door Molly burst in. Banging it behind her, she stood with her back to it, one hand gripping her throat; and now both Hilda and he were holding her, asking at the same time, ”What is it? What’s the matter? It didn’t hit the house? It wasn’t that near.”

  ”No, no.” She shook her head, swallowed deeply. ”It ... it must have been the shock.”

  ”What must have been the shock?” Hilda was shaking her now.

  Molly pulled herself away from the door and put her hand tightly over her mouth and held it there for a moment before she said, ”She’s dead. It was after the bomb dropped. She . . . she cried out and sat up and bumped her head on the underside of the table. I ... I thought it had knocked her out but. . . but she hasn’t come round and -” She stopped and closed her eyes then said slowly, ”Her heart’s not beating.”

  ”Come on; you could be mistaken, she’s likely in shock and her pulse is weak. Come on.” As he went to open the door Hilda cried, ”Wait a moment. I’ll leave a note for Abel to tell him where we are.”

  Grabbing a pad off the dresser, she scribbled a few words on it and stuck it in front of the clock; then they were all running down the yard, along the road, and up the drive towards the house.

  It was only minutes later when the three of them rose from their knees and Hilda, turning to Dick, said quietly, ”Go and find your father. Bring him as quickly as you can. . . .”

  As he ran through empty streets towards the school, only once was he hailed by a warden shouting, ”Do you want any help?”

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  I

  ”No, no, thanks. I’m . . . I’m just going to the post, the Bower Road School one.”

  He looked upwards as he ran. There was a glow in the sky towards the old town of Bog’s End, and a brighter glow nearer still to the right of him.

  There were two men on duty in the post room. He knew one of them, a Mr Blythe, and the man, putting down a telephone quickly, said, ”You didn’t catch it?” and he replied on a gasp, ”No, no, it’s over Swanson Terrace way I think. I saw a blaze coming from there. But . . . but it shuddered us.” He looked round towards the other room. ”Is ... is my father about?”

  ”No.”

  ”Has . . . has he gone over there ?”

  ”I wouldn’t know, Dick; he went off duty almost an hour ago.”

  He remained quiet for a moment, then said, ”Oh. Oh, thanks.” As he went through the door, Mr Blythe called out to him, ”He’s iilely dropped in somewhere to have a pint; that’s if he’s been lucky enough to find a place with any.”

  ”Yes, yes.” He nodded back at the man.

  Out in the schoolyard he stood still for a moment. The blaze towards Swanson Terrace seemed to be brighter, it was illuminating the sky, and away towards the docks he saw a long line of lights, dull from this distance but definitely fires. They had been trying for the docks for some nights now and likely tonight they’d found their target.

  Where was his father ? He walked quickly across the schoolyard now, but outside the gates he paused again looking first one way and then the other. Should he go back home and tell her that his father was off duty at the post but had gone to help the firefighters, or should he turn the other way and go down to his Aunt Florrie’s ?

  Spurred now by a wave of feeling that was as near black anger as ever he had experienced, he was running towards Brampton Hill, his mind jabbering at him with every step he took. He had known for some time what was going on, he wasn’t a fool. His father must think he was a fool.

  That day he had seen his father helping his Aunt Florae out of the van and holding her hand before he would let her go through the gates and up the drive to her flat.

  Ï93 ,

  ”And another! Oh, dear, dear, Lord!” •• ....

  ”Come on into the shelter.”

  ”No, no.” She shook her head wildly, then muttered, ”Abel. Where would he be?”

  ”He’ll be in the post or thereabouts and that first one was t’other side of here and nowhere near the post, so don’t worry. Look; sit down, I’ll make you a drink.”

  She allowed him to press her into a chair, and like a small girl she now sat with her hands joined in front of her knees, her body rocking slightly all the while.

  He had just handed her the cup of tea when he heard his name being shouted and before he could get to the door Molly burst in. Banging it behind her, she stood with her back to it, one hand gripping her throat; and now both Hilda and he were holding her, asking at the same time, ”What is it? What’s the matter? It didn’t hit the house? It wasn’t that near.”

  ”No, no.” She shook her head, swallowed deeply. ”It ... it must have been the shock.”

  ”What must have been the shock?” Hilda was shaking her now.

  Molly pulled herself away from the door and put her hand tightly over her mouth and held it there for a moment before she said, ”She’s dead. It was after the bomb dropped. She . . . she cried out and sat up and bumped her head on the underside of the table. I ... I thought it had knocked her out but . . . but she hasn’t come round and -” She stopped and closed her eyes then said slowly, ”Her heart’s not beating.”

  ”Come on; you could be mistaken, she’s likely in shock and her pulse is weak. Come on.” As he went to open the door Hilda cried, ”Wait a moment. I’ll leave a note for Abel to tell him where we are.”

  Grabbing a pad off the dresser, she scribbled a few words on it and stuck it in front of the clock; then they were all running down the yard, along the road, and up the drive towards the house.

  It was only minutes later when the three of them rose from their knees and Hilda, turning to Dick, said quietly, ”Go and find your father. Bring him as quickly as you can. . . .”

  As he ran through empty streets towards the school, only once was he hailed by a warden shouting, ”Do you want any help?”

  192

  I

  ”No, no, thanks. I’m . . . I’m just going to the post, the Bower Road School one.”

  He looked upwards as he ran. There was a glow in the sky towards the old town of Bog’s End, and a brighter glow nearer still to the right of him.

  There were two men on duty in the post room. He knew one of them, a Mr Blythe, and the man, putting down a telephone quickly, said, ”You didn’t catch it?” and he replied on a gasp, ”No, no, it’s over Swanson Terrace way I think. I saw a blaze coming from there. But. . . but it shuddered us.” He looked round towards the other room. ”Is ... is my father about ?”

  ”No.”

  ”Has . . . has he gone over there?”

  ”I wouldn’t know, Dick; he went off duty almost an hour ago.”

  He remained quiet for a moment, then said, ”Oh. Oh, thanks.” As he went through the door, Mr Blythe called out to him, ”He’s likely dropped in somewhere to have a pint; that’s if he’s been lucky enough to find a place with any.”

  ”Yes, yes.” He nodded back at the man.

  Out in the schoolyard he stood still for a moment. The blaze towards Swanson Terrace seemed to be brighter, it was illuminating the sky, and away towards the docks he saw a long line of lights, dull from this distance but definitely fires. They had been trying for the docks for some nights now and likely tonight they’d found their target.

  Where was his father ? He walked quickly across the schoolyard now, but outside the gates he paused again looking first one way and then the other. Should he go back home and tell her that his father was off duty at the post but had gone to help
the firefighters, or should he turn the other way and go down to his Aunt Florrie’s ?

  Spurred now by a wave of feeling that was as near black anger as ever he had experienced, he was running towards Brampton Hill, his mind jabbering at him with every step he took. He had known for some time what was going on, he wasn’t a fool. His father must think he was a fool.

  That day he had seen his father helping his Aunt Florrie out of the van and holding her hand 1~ £ 1

  betore he would let her go through the gates and up the drive to her flat.

  J93 .;: ,

  , It was as his father had turned towards the van again that he had caught sight of him along the road and when they met he had said glibly, ”I saw your Aunt Florrie out shopping, I gave her a lift back.” He had only just stopped himself from saying, ”She must have dropped her basket or her parcels somewhere then.”

  And his Sunday afternoon walks. His father no longer walked the fells. He had even seen him going towards them, then cutting down behind Wardle Drive. Now why should he do that ?

  When he reached the gates of No. 46 he stood hanging on to them for a moment. Then he swung his torch on to the drive and began to run again, and he kept on running until he reached the house door. There he stopped. Bracing his shoulders, he buttoned his coat, smoothed back his hair, then went through the hall, along the corridor and to the door of the garden flat.

  When a woman opened the door he stared at her for a moment thinking that it wasn’t his Aunt Florrie, then when he recognized that it was, he put her changed condition down to the fact that she was standing under an electric light that was enveloped in a dark green shade. But when she said under her breath, ”Oh, Dick,” he went into the passage and she closed the door. He then saw the reason for the change in her. His Aunt Florrie had always been as thin as a rake, but the woman standing before him was fat, at least part of her was. His Aunt Florrie was pregnant, very pregnant. Quickly he turned his head away from her and looked towards the end of the passage, and there stood his father. He had his overcoat on and was apparently ready to leave. He came swiftly towards him now and when he spoke his voice was harsh, ”What do you want here?”