Kate Hannigan's Girl

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Kate Hannigan's Girl Page 5

by Catherine Cookson


  His scout was called Benny and addressed him as ‘sir’. It had taken some time to get used to the ‘sir’. He thought of the things of which he had deprived himself in order to tip Benny and the porter at the end of term. And, on the day he took his degree, when according to custom Benny helped him on with his hood, the thought of the pound note he gave Benny helped him to keep his head up and eyes level as he walked to the platform. There had been no relations with glowing eyes to see him—his father was down the pit and his mother was out charing—but their images were clearer in his mind at that moment than at any other time in his life.

  His mother said, ‘We’re right glad you’re staying up there another year for the teaching course.’

  His mouth drew into a thin line. ‘I’ve stayed up there too long already…I shouldn’t have taken it on. I could have got a job without it. Oh, I wish I was finished!’

  ‘But why, lad?’ she asked in surprise. ‘What are you all fratched about? What is it? I thought you liked being up there.’

  ‘I should be working!’ he said. ‘God! it’s about time. Nearly five years and not a penny earned.’

  ‘Oh lad, don’t be silly.’

  ‘Will you give up this job of yours if I get a post near home?’ he asked her earnestly.

  ‘Why, lad, there’s plenty of time to talk about that,’ she parried. ‘Anyway, you’ll want a bit of money for yourself. You’ve had to scrape and scratch for years …’

  ‘I have?’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Well, it’s different for us, lad; we don’t want much.’

  ‘And you don’t get much! You’re stopping work as soon as I get home.’ He banged the plates into the rack.

  ‘Ah! we’ll see. Anyway, lad,’ she laughed, ‘ye’ll be getting yerself married.’

  He sprang round. ‘What!’

  ‘Why, lad, don’t knock me over. Married, I said…People do, yer know.’

  ‘What do you take me for?’ he asked. ‘That’s the last thought in my head.’

  ‘Well, it shouldn’t be. ’Tisn’t natural. Ye’re twenty-two, and you’ve never had a bit of a lass…Not that I want you to get married straight away. But oh, lad,’ she smiled at him softly, ‘I want to see you happy and enjoying yourself; ye’ve done nothing but work. I wonder sometimes it hasn’t driven yer daft—it’s not natural not to have a bit of fun.’

  He stared at her. Her utter selflessness hurt him; he felt mean and small before the greatness of it. He pulled her towards him and enfolded her gently in his arms.

  ‘Eeh! lad. Look, I’ve the dishcloth in me hand, I’ll wet you all.’ She gave a shaky, embarrassed laugh, then laid her cheek against his. ‘Oh, my Terence…Oh, my lad,’ she whispered.

  The light was fading as Mrs Macbane trudged down the lane some twenty yards behind her husband. She had stopped for a last word with Terence, and Mr Macbane had walked on through the snow, leaving her to make her way as best she could. Shouts and laughter were still coming from around the house, and as she neared the gate a small boy dashed out, yelling, ‘No! No! Not yet. No, Annie!’

  ‘Ah, Master David, what are you up to now?’ asked Mrs Macbane.

  ‘I’ve got to go in and have my bath, and I’m not going! Oh, Mrs Macbane!’ he squealed, and dodged behind her long skirt as Annie came running through the gate.

  ‘Why, hello, Mrs Macbane!’ cried Annie. ‘Have you had a nice Christmas?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Annie. Fine thanks. And you?’

  ‘Oh, lovely!’

  Mrs Macbane put her hand behind her and tenderly patted David’s head as he pressed against her legs, and Annie asked, haltingly, ‘Is…is Terence coming to my party?’

  ‘Well, lass…Miss Annie, he’s not one for parties, you know.’

  ‘Oh!’ The bright, laughing face dimmed for a moment. ‘He never comes down, he’s never come once,’ she said frankly. ‘Why doesn’t he?’

  ‘He’s shy.’

  ‘Is he?’

  Mrs Macbane looked at Annie steadily. Then, taking a deep breath as if before a plunge, she said, ‘Why not go up, lass, and ask him? He only wants a bit of coaxing…You go up and ask him.’ She hurried away with a backward glance and a smile, saying, ‘Good-night, Master David,’ and adding, ‘He’d come if you could bring yourself to go and ask him.’

  Annie called after her, ‘Would he?’

  Mrs Macbane didn’t turn round, but nodded and quickened her pace almost to a run, frightened now at her own daring. And Annie, making an unexpected swoop on her small half-brother, gathered him, kicking and struggling, into her arms and ran up the path, thinking: I will go, I will! I’ll go and ask him. Why not?

  The house seemed packed with happy, laughing people. Kate and Peggy Davidson were in the bathroom with an over-excited David; Rodney and Peter had retired to the study for a breather before tea; and in the drawing-room, playing a complicated game of cards that took up most of the available floor space, were Michael and Cathleen Davidson, Rosie Mullen, Brian Stannard and his two girl-cousins, and a cherub-faced youth who was receiving everyone’s censure in silence, returning only angelic smiles to accusations of being a card-sharp, a sneaking thief and a dirty, cheating hound.

  ‘Get Annie!’ cried Michael Davidson. ‘She’ll play him off the face of the earth. Tim Bailey, you’re a twister! You must be. No-one is that lucky.’

  ‘Annie! Annie!’ they all yelled.

  ‘I won’t be a minute,’ she called from the hall. She dashed into the kitchen. ‘Oh Summy, the table’s marvellous. Thanks a lot. And you too, Alice.’

  Alice smiled, and Mrs Summers said, ‘Well, you’re not eighteen every day, hinny.’

  ‘Eighteen and two days, Summy…Oh, there’s the phone!’ She ran back into the hall. ‘Yes. Yes, this is Annie. Oh, I’m very sorry, Mrs Beaney. What a shame! Tell him I hope he’ll soon be better. Yes, we’ve had a lovely Christmas. Goodbye. Goodbye.’

  She went into the drawing-room, saying, ‘Poor John Beaney’s got a cold and can’t come; his mother has just phoned up.’

  They all stopped playing and looked up at her.

  ‘Oh, that cissy would take to his bed with the sniffles,’ said Brian.

  ‘That makes us one man short,’ Cathleen exclaimed.

  ‘Two, if the Oxford don doesn’t turn up,’ put in Brian.

  ‘I say, Annie,’ said Cathleen, ‘why not ask Steve?’

  Annie looked down on Cathleen in surprise. ‘Steve? Oh, I don’t think he would come—not to a party, anyway.’

  ‘Why not? He’s all right! Let’s ask him …’ She got on to her knees, her black eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Let me go and ask him.’

  ‘Well …’ Annie hesitated. ‘All right. I should like him to come, but you’d better ask Mam first.’

  ‘Where is she? Upstairs?’

  ‘Yes, bathing David.’ Annie watched Cathleen dart out of the room. What had come over Cathleen lately? She was quite changed. She had stopped picking quarrels on every occasion, and these last few months she had been…well, ‘charming’ was the word. They were all saying how nice she was now, and Aunt Peggy and Uncle Peter looked happier than they had done since Cathleen left the convent and went to the art school. And even Annie didn’t mind her staying for weekends now. It was thoughtful of her to think of Steve. But would he come? He had been a bit odd lately. Well, if she got him to come it would make the numbers right. Of course, that was if Terence came too. Should she go down and ask him, and make sure?

  With an excuse to the rest of the company, she went into the hall again and stood for a moment undecided, staring at the Chinese lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Should she? She didn’t really know what to do. Then one thing became certain in her mind. If she didn’t go for him, he wouldn’t come. With the thought, the party took on a dullness; she had somehow been banking on him coming in order to break down the barrier that was purely of his making. Why was he so silly? He must come. His mother wanted him to come. Then should she go? Oh, I’ll ask Mam too; she a
lways knows what one should do.

  When she dashed into the bathroom, Kate exclaimed, ‘Oh, go away, Annie! You know what he’s like when you’re about…Now, David,’ she said to her struggling son, ‘it’s no use, you’ve got to be washed. Oh…and Cathleen,’ she added apologetically, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t answer you…Yes, of course, go and ask Steve.’

  When the two girls had left the bathroom, Kate said to Peggy, ‘I hope Steve comes; he’s hardly been in the house this Christmas, and he usually spends most of it with us. Rodney’s been a bit worried about him lately. He’s changed somehow…I can’t understand it myself. He was like one of the family, and we thought the world of him—we still do, but all of a sudden he seemed to close up and withdraw from us.’

  ‘Perhaps there’s a woman in the case,’ laughed Peggy.

  ‘Well, you know, I thought of that, but I’ve never seen any sign of one. I wish it was a woman; I’d like to see him married. He’s too nice to be alone, and he’s getting on.’

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘Forty-one or so, I think.’

  ‘Steve is teaching me to twittle, Auntie. Isn’t he, Mammy?’

  ‘Whittle, darling.’

  ‘And he’s not old, he plays with me. Will he play with me if he gets married, Mammy?’

  ‘Oh dear!’ said Kate, wriggling him into his dressing-gown. ‘I never seem to learn…Come along, darling,’ she added; ‘Alice has got your tea ready. And when you’ve had it you may come downstairs and say night-night to everyone.’

  When David was settled in the nursery with Alice and they were on their way downstairs, Peggy said quietly, ‘You know, Kate, this is the nicest Christmas I’ve had for years.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Kate. ‘There seems to be something extra special about it.’

  ‘It’s been lovely staying with you these past three days. I feel as if I’ve been on a holiday for months.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ said Kate. ‘You certainly needed a change.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ Peggy’s face lost its happy look and became grave. ‘You know, I thought when the children grew up life would become easy and mellow. But it seems to be just the reverse…Oh,’ she turned to Kate, ‘if only they would stay small like David. I get worried sick sometimes about what’s going to happen to them. Not so much Michael, but Cathleen.’

  Kate did not immediately reply. But when she said, ‘Yes, you do have a constant fear for them,’ it was more to comfort Peggy than to make a statement of her own feelings, for she had no qualms about Annie.

  As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Annie called from the dining-room, ‘Mam! Just a minute.’

  Peggy went on into the drawing-room, and Annie, pulling Kate behind the dining-room door, whispered, ‘Mam, Mrs Macbane says Terence is shy and might not come. But she said if I went and asked him she thought he might…Do you think I should? It’s funny a girl asking a boy, isn’t it? And,’ she laughed, ‘he isn’t a boy, he’s a man…Do you think I dare? Somehow I think he’s shy. But I’m a bit afraid to go,’ she ended breathlessly.

  ‘Mrs Macbane told you to go?’ said Kate, in surprise. ‘When?’

  ‘Just now, when she was passing the gate; she was going out with Mr Macbane.’

  Kate pondered a moment. ‘Well…Yes…Yes, I should think it would be all right if you went and asked him. He does seem shy. Perhaps the party will do him good. Yes, go along.’

  They smiled at each other, and Kate put out her hand and touched Annie’s cheek, a gesture that had more in it than the mere action. ‘Wrap up well,’ she said as she followed her into the hall.

  She helped Annie on with a hooded coat of dark green blanket cloth, and watched her pull on her top-boots, then let her out into the snow, saying, ‘Is your torch all right?’ As she stood for a while watching the torch’s gleam bobbing in the lane, she wondered why Terence had kept so apart; they had done their best. Perhaps he felt the uncertainty of being in between two worlds, sure of his place in neither of them. She knew what that felt like.

  She closed the door and turned into the shining warmth of the house again, and the thought came to her that Annie had always liked Terence Macbane. She hoped he was as nice as she imagined him to be. If they became friends it might cool Brian off. For surely Annie couldn’t like Brian. Oh, she couldn’t! Yet he was always here. Why hadn’t he stayed in London? His two years there might have improved his business acumen in buying and selling iron and steel, but it hadn’t improved him. He was, as Rodney said, all boast and brawn, and he seemed to keep everyone away from Annie. Yes, it would be nice if she became friendly with Terence. The possibility gave her a warm feeling and she returned to the drawing-room smiling.

  When Cathleen left the house by the side door she stood for a while looking up into the night sky. Venus stared down at her, unblinking, and Cathleen whispered into the night, ‘I could reach you if I wanted to. Yes, I could. I can do anything I want…Oh, it’s all so easy. Why are they such fools, gullible fools?’

  She ran swiftly down the garden towards the summerhouse, which looked like a huge, dark blob in the white garden. As she ran she kicked the dry snow into high sprays before her and hummed to herself. On reaching the door, she paused. Then with an abrupt movement she thrust it open without knocking, and went in.

  ‘What the …!’ Steve, in the act of pulling his shirt over his head, glared at her across the narrow space of the room. ‘What do you want?’ he demanded. ‘Why can’t you knock?’ He pulled the sleeves over his wrists and picked up another shirt from the chair before adding, ‘I thought I told you not to come here again.’

  She walked close up to him without speaking, and stood watching him as he put the shirt on and tucked the tails into his trousers. Then with a swift movement she reached up and, thrusting her face into the opening of the shirt, caught some of the black hairs on his chest between her teeth.

  ‘God!’ he exclaimed. ‘You little …!’ He gripped her by the shoulders, holding her from him. They stared at each other. Then both began to laugh. ‘One of these days,’ he said, ‘you’ll get what you’re asking for.’

  She chuckled, a deep, throaty chuckle, then waltzed away, whirling in the narrow space between Steve’s bed and the small couch by the side of the fire before coming to a stop again in front of him. He was buttoning his shirt, his fingers fumbling; his face was stiff again, and he moved his big body restlessly.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘we’ve had all this out. I told you not to come down here again. Don’t you see? If they got to know …’

  ‘Oh, wouldn’t the holy family be shocked!’ she laughed.

  ‘Don’t blaspheme,’ he said. ‘And I’ve told you this can’t go on. If they found out, I’d never hold up my head again…I can barely do it now. Look, Cathy,’ he pleaded as to one with superior strength. ‘Be sensible. Nothing can come of this; I’m old enough to be your father. Look at all the young fellows there are about …’

  ‘I do. Young fellows bore me, I’ve told you. I like them old—but not too old; and round about six foot one, and broad, with hairs on their chests, and doggy eyes …’

  ‘Look—’ he said.

  ‘Don’t keep saying “Look”, darling.’

  ‘Well, it’s just this way.’ His tone became grim. ‘I like this job; I don’t want to leave it. But if you keep this up I will…I’ll have to.’

  ‘Why do you like this job?’ she asked quietly. ‘A servant and a nursemaid to the lot of them! You’re clever with your hands; you could get something better than this tomorrow.’

  ‘Perhaps. But I like it here. Besides, jobs aren’t so easy to pick up as you imagine; there are thousands unemployed.’

  ‘There wouldn’t be any special attraction that keeps you here, would there?’

  ‘Now stop that! We don’t want all that again,’ he said sharply. ‘I like the job; the doctor’s fine to work for.’

  ‘Ah! yes. The doctor’s wonderful to work for,’ she mimicked. ‘And Kate?’

  He
said helplessly, ‘She’s a fine mistress, I’ve told you.’

  ‘Ho-ho! That’s funny. A “fine mistress”!’

  His face darkened with anger. ‘Cathy! Stop it! I’ve explained there are different ways of liking a woman. Your mind is like a cesspool.’

  ‘Really?’ She looked at him coldly.

  ‘I’m sorry…but you turn things so. Look. What have you come for? If they get to know you’re here …’

  ‘My pet, they sent me. What do you think of that? They want to know if you’ll come and join the party. A youth has not turned up, so I guilelessly put your name forward to Virgin Annie.’

  He frowned at her allusion to Annie, and said, ‘I’m going out.’

  ‘But, darling, it’s a command…And besides, I want you to come.’ She put out her hand and touched the grey hair at his temple. ‘I want to play Postman’s Knock and kiss you in the hall. I want to watch you and think: I know things about him that would make their hair stand on end.’

  ‘You little devil!’

  She came nearer to him. ‘Do you love me?’

  He shook his head with the same helpless movement as before. ‘I’ve told you.’

  ‘It’s funny,’ she laughed softly, ‘how that satisfies me much more than “yes”. You’re not clever, Steve. Do you know the way to get rid of me, darling? Go wild about me. The only things that attract me are the things that elude me.’

  She leant against him, her arms round his waist, her head under his chin. ‘Be nice to me, sweet, I’m having such a beastly time. I’ve been charming to everybody for weeks just so I can be up here near you. I’ve got Mummy and Daddy sitting back and purring; my brother smiles at me and calls me Sis; I’m even nice to the Virgin; and they’re all saying, “Oh, she is improving. Getting over the adolescent phase. Perhaps we’ve misjudged her …” Even the Countess Kate has dropped her defences. The only one who doesn’t unbend is that haybag contralto, Miss Rosie Mullen; she’s more clever than I imagined…But oh, Steve, I can’t keep it up. I hate even the pretence of being good. I was tempted to flirt with Tim Bailey, when the idea about you came into my head. Oh, Steve!’ she chuckled, ‘imagine their reactions to me setting my cap at Tim—he’s an embryo priest, you know. My mother would have his uncle up to exorcise the Devil out of me.’

 

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