Bill Bailey

by Catherine Cookson

She stopped in her clearing and now asked herself if she had said there was only one thing that was marring her happiness; she was forgetting her mother…Oh! her mother…

  It was almost four hours later when she heard the car draw up at the gate, and she hurried from the sitting room to open the door.

  A few minutes later he was in the hall, and she was in his arms, her slim body seeming to be lost in the bulk of him.

  As he took off his overcoat and dropped it onto a chair, she said, ‘You hungry?’

  ‘No. No. I’ll have a cup of tea; but not yet awhile. Come in here.’ He put his arm about her and led her into the sitting room, and when they were seated on the couch before the electric fire, he pointed to the artificial logs, saying characteristically, ‘We’ll have that out of that; I can’t stand make-believe things. We’ll have an open fire put in there, eh?’

  ‘I like my artificial logs.’

  He pulled her tightly to him, saying, ‘You’ll like what I like or else.’ Then his mood changing suddenly, he lay back against the couch and became silent; and after a while she said, ‘Been a bad day?’

  ‘Horrible. I knew I’d miss him, but God! when it came to the final act I nearly howled aloud. As I said, lass, he was like a son, the one I always wanted and never had. I love kids. Well, you know that. By the way, they’re quiet.’ He looked upwards.

  ‘They’ve been in bed for some time now, and don’t you go in to them tonight.’

  ‘Oh no. You needn’t stress the point, I haven’t a joke in me tonight. You know something, lass?’

  ‘No; what?’

  ‘They say blood is thicker than water…that’s all my eye and Betty Martin. Those two, Dan’s parents and the pair they had with them…I can’t get over it. All right; his mother’s crippled with arthritis, but she’s not yet sixty. And his dad’s had two slight heart turns. But nevertheless, that little lass in hospital is their grandchild. But they were adamant they couldn’t take her on. Get a kind of housekeeper in, I said, and I’ll stand half the racket; ’cos they’re not without money. I know that. But no, no. And then there was his cousin and his piece, both in their thirties. But no, no; again no; they couldn’t have the child. They were both in business, you see. And what was more, they had made up their minds when they married they didn’t want children. What they should have said was that they were a couple of upstarts, too big for their bloody boots, moving into a bigger house in the Welsh upper belt…And talking about houses. The old man might have a dicky heart, but he hasn’t got a dicky head. You know what he’s been up to over the last three or four days? He’s made arrangements for all the furniture to go to the sale, and he’s put the house in the hands of an estate agent. You know, Fiona’—his voice was grim now—‘if it hadn’t been I’d just come back from the funeral, I would have shot me mouth off, because they didn’t give a damn about that child lying there. The only thing I got out of him was that he’d come back within a week or two when her arm was properly fixed and she was fit to leave hospital and decide then what was to be done with her. And I’ll tell you what they’ll do, I know it, they’ll have her adopted. You’ll see, they’ll have her adopted. But whatever happens to her, I’ll damn well see that what is made out of the house and furniture and insurance goes into trust for her.’

  She held his hand tightly, but could find nothing to say, and after a moment he went on, ‘It came to me today why Dan and Susie only went up once a year to see them. Sometimes, they’d stay a week, but more often only two or three days; and before he got married he made just flying visits. Somehow he didn’t seem to belong to them. I could recognise nothing in either of them that was in him. I suppose he missed something right from the start and that’s why he cottoned on to me. And I was ready for a son.’ He now turned his face fully towards her and, lowering his voice, he said, ‘And I’m ready for a wife, lass. I asked meself the day, if I hadn’t you to come back to what would I have done? Oh, I know’—he tossed his head—‘got blued, really stinkingly blued. And now we’re on the subject of you and me, it’s gettin’ harder each night not to come along that landing and bash your door down, as I’ve said afore; and I nearly did last night; you know that?’

  She made a small motion with her head.

  ‘Well, you were lucky you have three kids; I somehow couldn’t do it with them scattered about. I imagined just as we’d be gettin’ down to it Katie would put her head round the door and say, “What you doin’, Mr Bill?”’

  She choked and gulped; then dropped her head onto his shoulder, saying, ‘Oh, Bill.’ And he, his voice now almost a broken whisper, said, ‘But there’s no fear of that happening the night, lass. Put your arms around me and hold me tight because all I want at the moment is a mother.’

  They got out of the car in the hospital car park, and once again Fiona asked in an undertone, ‘Are you sure it’s all right to take the three of them in there?’

  ‘Woman, I’ve told you, there were squads in there yesterday.’

  She now looked down at the three pairs of eyes staring up at her, and after drawing in a sharp breath she muttered, ‘I’ve told you now, behave yourselves.’

  ‘They always behave themselves. Come on.’ He held out his hand to Katie, adding, ‘What does she think you’re going to get up to in there, coup your creels? That’s what the Geordies say, don’t they?’

  Katie, glancing mischievously over her shoulder at her mother, said, ‘She thinks we might all sing, “Won’t You Come Home, Bill Bailey?”’

  He, too, now glanced at Fiona; then looking from Willie to Mark, he said, ‘That’s a good idea, isn’t it?’ and they both laughed while Willie piped up, ‘We didn’t bring our tin whistles.’

  ‘Oh, what a pity! Why didn’t you think of it beforehand?’ And at this Willie, now hanging on to his other hand, grinned up at him knowingly.

  A few minutes later, after walking along two corridors, they entered a wide room with beds and cots along both side walls. Every cot had a child in it and with the exception of one all were surrounded by people and toys, some of the latter almost as big as the children.

  Bill led the way to the cot where the child was sitting with her head lowered as if looking at the plastered arm lying on the coverlet.

  ‘Hello, there, Mamie. Look who I’ve brought to see you.’

  The child raised her head and there was a dazed look in her eyes for a second; then her face brightened and she said, ‘Oh! Uncle Bill.’

  ‘Look who’s here!’

  Katie was now standing wide-eyed and wide-mouthed and hugging a small box of sweets to her breast, and Bill had to tug her towards him by the arm while saying to the child in the bed, ‘Look! this is Katie. And you’re nearly as big as her and you just turned three and she all of seven. My! My!’

  There was no response from either child, and now Bill, turning his head to the side and speaking into the back of Katie’s neck, said, ‘Say hello to her.’

  Katie made an effort; she closed her mouth, then opened it, then shut it again while she stared at the bandaged head and discoloured chin; then she acted uncharacteristically, she burst into tears.

  Taking the box from her, Fiona lifted her into her arms and, smothering her head against her shoulder, whispered, ‘There now. There now. She’s all right, she’s all right. Now look! if you don’t stop you’ll have to go outside.’

  Bill now took the box from Fiona’s hand and gave it to Willie, saying, ‘You give it to her.’ And on this Willie, utterly composed, moved up by the bedside, grinned at the small occupant and, handing her the box, said, ‘They’re mixed, some’s got chocolate on, t’others just toffee. There’s half a pound.’

  It was some seconds before the small hand came out and took the box from Willie. But when she made no verbal response Bill leant over her, saying gently, ‘What did you say to Willie for those nice sweets?’

  The child looked up into Bill’s face and her lips trembled, and her eyelids blinked, and she said, ‘Uncle Bill, I want my mammy.’
>
  Bill now turned quickly from the bed, muttering softly, ‘Oh God!’

  Fiona had put Katie down on the floor again and she now stared at this man who, she imagined, could never be lost for words on any occasion: he was the quick thinker with a ready rejoinder, the man who could take the words out of your mouth and make them funny. She looked from him to the pathetic figure of the child in the bed, and now pushing him to one side, together with Willie and Katie, she drew a chair towards the head of the bed and, sitting down, she took the hand from the box and stroked it gently whilst saying, ‘It’s all right, my dear, your mammy has…has gone on a little holiday.’

  The round red-rimmed eyes looked into hers and the quivering mouth said one word now, ‘Daddy.’

  ‘Well’—Fiona swallowed deeply—‘he’s with your Mammy. She’s…she’s not very well.’ There was a break in her own voice now and she turned a desperate glance on Bill. But she got no help from him for he was still standing with his back to the bed and stroking Katie’s hair with quick movements of his fingers as if endeavouring to brush something from it.

  ‘When you are better you can come to our house.’

  They all looked at Mark now who was standing at the other side of the bed.

  He had caught the child’s attention. Her face seemed to brighten for a moment, and when she said, ‘And Johnny?’ Mark said quietly, ‘Yes, and Johnny. And Katie’s got a doll’s house and it’s got six rooms, and I’ve got a rocking horse, it’s called Horace.’

  Fiona stared at her son. There had always been something different about Mark since he was quite young. She recalled the times when his father and she would be arguing, especially if the children had been making a noise and he couldn’t get on with his writing which, as he would inform her loudly, was their livelihood. At these times Mark was apt to come between them and ask some irrelevant question but one that needed an answer. She recognised, as time went on, that he was trying to divert their attention from each other and on to himself.

  She was smiling her approval across the bed at him when Willie burst in with, ‘’Orace’s not yours now, he’s mine. I scratched my name on his belly.’

  ‘Willie!’

  ‘Well I did, Mam.’ He looked up at Fiona.

  ‘She means you should say, stomach.’ It was Katie now, tears forgotten, and at this Willie grinned.

  Then all their attention again was drawn to the child in the bed for she had put her hand to her head and, her small face screwing up, she began to cry.

  Bill immediately drew the attention of a nurse, and when she came to the bed she said quietly, ‘Head aching, dear? Oh, we’ll soon give you something to ease that.’ Then turning to Fiona she made a gesture that they should all move away and when they were in the aisle she said, ‘She’ll have a drink then she’ll go to sleep. She sleeps a lot; her head was badly bruised.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Fiona spoke the word gently, and the nurse said, ‘No, not as far as we know. There was no visible damage, only grazing and cuts, but mainly on the scalp. She’ll be all right.’ She nodded reassuringly.

  Fiona moved towards the door, but Bill did not immediately follow; he stood at the foot of the bed gazing at the child whose face was now awash with tears. Then he turned abruptly and joined the others; but he didn’t speak.

  Not until he was seated in the car and with his hands on the wheel and his head bent over it were his feelings expressed in the word, ‘Hell.’

  ‘Eeh! Mr Bill. He swored.’

  ‘Be quiet! Willie.’

  ‘Well he did, he said…’

  ‘Willie!’

  Fiona was looking straight ahead through the windscreen as she said now, ‘I feel like an afternoon out. Would you like to take us all to tea somewhere?’

  Bill slowly straightened himself, turned his gaze on her; then slowly he said, ‘Yes, woman. Yes, that’s what we’ll do.’ And leaning his head back, he said, ‘Right, kids?’ And after a small pause they all answered as in one voice, ‘Right, Mr Bill.’

  They had driven to the coast; they had walked along a cold and windy beach and for a time the children had joined in a game with others and a dog and a ball; then they’d had tea in an hotel where Katie had caused a stir among the occupants of the room by remarking, and none too quietly, ‘They’ve got real tablecloths on here.’ At home they’d had another tea, followed by the usual routine that led to the children’s going to bed. And so it was some time before Fiona and Bill went into the sitting room, where Bill, dropping onto the couch, said, ‘You know what I’d like to do?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You don’t, ’cos I’d like to get really bottled up.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes, because every time there’s a crisis your reaction is to go and get bottled up.’

  ‘But I’ve only been bottled up once since I came here, the night of the accident.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, but the urge has been on you at other times too.’

  ‘You see too bloomin’ much, woman.’

  ‘I don’t mind if you go and get bottled up’—she sat down close to him—‘the only thing I would object to, even if I hadn’t to stay back and see to the children, would be if you expected me to accompany you.’

  He gave a short laugh, saying, ‘That’ll be the day when I see you bottled up. I’ll know then that the last vestige of your mother has been wiped out…By the way, did you see your mother’s stooge from two doors down’—he thumbed towards the street—‘in the ward when we were there?’

  ‘You mean Mrs Quinn? No, I didn’t notice her.’

  ‘Well, she noticed you, she noticed us. And she was there when we came out an’ all. I bet by now the jungle wires have been singing.’

  ‘Well, she couldn’t make much out of that, could she, visiting a children’s ward?’

  ‘Well, we were together, and if we’re together so much in the day, we will definitely be together much more in the night, will be the general opinion if I know anything. Anyway I want to talk to you about that. When are we going to make our wicked thoughts respectable? Do you want it done in church or…?’

  ‘Oh, no!’ She held up her hand. ‘Not in church, not in our church anyway. Mother would have a protest meeting outside. No, I wouldn’t do that. And you being a divorced man, and an agnostic into the bargain…‘

  ‘I’m a what!’

  ‘You know what I mean, neither one thing nor the other.’

  ‘That’s wrong. I have me own ideas of why, seeing that He’s built us as we are, we’ve got to do nothing about it, until we sign our names.’

  She laughed gently as she pushed him away from her saying, ‘That’s like a current; it’s running through your mind all the time.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right, and it’s a wonder it hasn’t given you an electric shock before now.’ And in his turn he pushed her, and they both leant against each other laughing gently.

  Releasing herself from his embrace, she said, ‘All this is sidetracking the main issue, isn’t it?’

  He thrust out his lower lip, then ran his hand through his hair before he said, ‘The bairn, aye, I can’t get her out of me mind. You see, I saw her soon after she was born, before Dan even. And later when he saw her the tears ran down his face: he loved his boy but he always wanted a girl. I’ve watched her grow. She was chatting before she could walk. She took after her mother in that way, ’cos Susan was a chatterer.’ And his voice now rising almost to a shout he demanded of her, ‘Can you understand those grandparents? Can you?’

  ‘Shh! You’ll have the lot of them downstairs in a minute.’

  ‘I’m sorry. But can you?’ His voice had dropped to a mere whisper, and she said, ‘Yes, in a way; they are ill and they’re old. But not the cousin and his wife. Tell me’—she took his hand now—‘if you hadn’t come here and things hadn’t turned out as they have done, what would you have done about her? The truth now.’

  He turned his head away, saying, ‘We
ll, the truth is, I would have tried to adopt her in some way.’

  ‘And that’s what you would like to do now?’

  He looked at her, and after a pause he said, ‘I wouldn’t ask it of you; you’ve got enough on your plate in bringing up those.’ He raised his eyes to the ceiling.

  ‘What if I want to do it?’

  ‘It would just be to please me and that would make me feel under a sort of…oh, I don’t know, taking advantage. No. It’s no go.’

  ‘Would you allow me to have some thoughts on the matter and to tell you that my mind was already made up when I saw that child in that bed today? Of course, too, it was how you felt about her, but I knew as soon as I saw her. And then when she asked about her mother, that settled it completely. Now what’s the alternative? If we don’t take her, she will be put into care somewhere. And’—she raised her eyebrows now and poked her head towards him—‘what kind of a life would I have with you after that? You would become unbearable; you’d go on the razzle, and I would then have to admit my mother was right, I must have been blind. She took your measure, you know, the minute you stepped in the door, the middle-of-the-road man…’

  His arms were tight about her, his mouth was equally tight on hers: then when at last they drew apart he said, ‘Boloney! She thought I was right for her, the old bag. But lass’—his voice dropped to a tender note—‘I’ve got no words to tell you what I’m feeling at this minute: I’d only make a hash of it and come out with something brash, in tune with my character. Yet I’ll manage this, but don’t expect me to repeat it.’ He tweaked her nose gently with his finger. ‘I’ve thought about you as a lady from the first minute I set eyes on you, a real lady every inch of you, inside an’ all. I pass women in the street every day and I’m comparing them with you, and if we never married, if nothing ever happened after this moment, I’d know that me life had been worthwhile in just meeting you.’

  ‘Oh, Bill. Bill.’

  When she laid her head gently on his shoulder he held her for a moment; then reverting to his usual self, he said, ‘Oh, for God’s sake! woman, don’t start blubbing. I’ve had enough of it today. Come on; let’s have some of your horrible coffee…or tea.’ And lifting her head up, he held her face between his hands, ending with, ‘And let’s discuss the day I can make an honest woman out of you. And it’s got to be soon, or else this town’ll experience something that’ll put the rape of the Sabine women into the shade.’