Kate Hannigan's Girl

by Catherine Cookson

  For the most part, Annie kept her head half bowed, talking at odd moments to young Jimmy, who sat at her feet. Brian said little; he seemed to be talking with his body, moving it slowly this way and that, until she thought, wildly: I don’t care, I can’t stand it, I’m going.

  The room became unbearably hot. She lifted her head, and the picture on the wall opposite began to sway. She heard Terence say, ‘No, no. Definitely no more for me, Mr Mullen, I’ve had enough.’ She felt Brian pressing closer to her; his hand, hidden by their bodies, began to rub the small of her back. She felt his breath on her neck; his mouth touched her ear, and he whispered thickly, ‘Come on, we’re going…I’ve had enough of this lot.’

  Unable to resist the nearness of her, he caught the lobe of her ear in his lips. The room whirled and, involuntarily, a cry escaped her. There was a tremendous bustle in the centre of the room; the Mullens seemed to be scattered to either side, and Terence was standing over her and Brian.

  Before she could struggle to her feet, Brian was lifted bodily off the couch, and in the faintness and humiliation that assailed her she was conscious of thinking, Terence couldn’t do that, he’s not strong enough!

  John Mullen was shouting, ‘Steady, Terry lad! Steady!’

  ‘Here! Here!’ Mr Mullen’s voice boomed. ‘We’re havin’ none o’ that.’

  The men were between them, loosening Terence’s hands from Brian’s collar and restraining Brian’s fists.

  Mrs Mullen cried, ‘My God! On a New Year’s morning too!’

  As Annie gained the front room Rosie caught her: ‘Oh, Annie, what have I done? I did it for the best.’

  Annie pushed her aside. ‘Leave me alone! I’m going.’

  ‘But you can’t, the car isn’t here. You can’t begin to walk all that way.’

  Annie grabbed up her coat and, as she pulled open the front door, gasped, ‘It’s all right, I’ll meet the car.’

  Once outside, she ran blindly down the deserted street and into the main road. The stinging night air and drizzle swept away the faintness and cleared her mind, leaving it empty to receive the flood of mortification.

  She couldn’t bear much more, she couldn’t! If only they would let her go…if she could fly to Sister Ann this minute…if she could only get within the quiet greyness of those stone walls…Terence had fought like some drunken docker—like her grandfather, who wasn’t her grandfather. He had spoilt the Mullens’ party. But it was her fault. She should have got up sooner; she should have turned on Brian. But how could she? Even when he was sober she couldn’t make any impression on him…She musn’t wait another four months! She must get away quickly from Brian. If she didn’t …

  Her feet flew faster, her breath tore at her chest. She imagined she could hear running footsteps behind. Oh, if the car would only come!

  She saw lights approaching, and stopped, gasping, under a streetlamp, and hung on to it for support. As the lights drew nearer she made out the shape of a lorry. Her own breathing was loud in her ears, but above it she heard clearly the sound of running feet. She started to run again, faster than she had done before. If only she could meet someone. She couldn’t go on much further, there was a stitch in her side…If it was Brian! She made an extra effort, the pain tearing at her. If she could reach the Jarrow slakes she would throw herself in if he touched her…Oh God! Where was the car? It must be nearly one o’clock.

  The steps were on her now; she could even hear the gasping breath of the runner…Oh, Mother of God! She stopped abruptly and flung herself against the wall, her hands outspread.

  The running figure loomed out of the dimness, stopped, and gasped, ‘Don’t be afraid, Annie…it’s me, Terence.’

  She was in the pool again, and struggling with him. And he was saying comfortingly, ‘Don’t be afraid, Annie…it’s me, Terence.’ But there was no comfort now.

  He was standing before her, supporting himself with one arm stretched out, the hand pressed against the wall by the side of her face. He spoke in jerks: ‘Oh Annie, I’m sorry…I wouldn’t have had this happen for the world…believe me. Don’t be afraid, don’t look like that…Annie, won’t you be friends? Won’t you just speak to me?’ He waited, then drew in his breath. ‘If Stannard touches you again I’ll kill him!’

  Still she made no sound.

  He took deep gulps of air, and when his breathing was easier he said, ‘Annie, have you still got your mind made up about…the other thing? Won’t you give me another chance?…Oh, for God’s sake!’ he cried. ‘Answer me!’

  She moved her head wildly.

  ‘I didn’t mean to ask you. I meant things to go differently…I’ll not ask you again, not after tonight. Oh, Annie—’ his voice shook, and he made to draw her from the wall. But she shrank from him, putting her hands before her to ward him off. ‘All right. Don’t worry, I won’t touch you…But won’t you let us try again? Annie, please! Just be friends; I’ll ask nothing more.’

  In the dim light from the streetlamp a few yards off, he saw each feature of her face strained to its utmost. She was standing as stiffly as though she had become part of the wall. With a feeling of hopelessness he turned from her and walked to the kerb.

  She stared fixedly at the dark blur of his back…If the car did not come soon she would faint. Her head seemed to be swelling and disengaging itself from her body.

  Two lights approached swiftly from the distance. To her they appeared to dance hectically as they came nearer. She stumbled past him into the road, and when the car was still some distance away she recognised it and waved her arms wildly.

  The car pulled up almost opposite to where Terence was standing, and before the chauffeur had time to get out, Annie had opened the door and was getting in.

  The man stood uncertainly on the road. Then, putting his head inside the car, he asked, ‘Is the gentleman with you, miss?’

  ‘No! No!’ she cried. Her voice sounded strange, as if she hadn’t used it for a long time.

  The chauffeur got in and began to turn the car. As he backed, the headlights shone full on Terence, and their glare seemed to awaken him.

  Before he swung round and stalked away his face showed up clearly before her. It was as if she were staring at a picture, and the picture showed him crying. It wasn’t the rain—though his face was wet with that—but his eyes were full and blurred with tears. It’s the whisky, she said to herself. It’s the whisky. Men never cry otherwise. It’s disgusting! But she felt no disgust. The feeling she had was one of remorse, which was ridiculous, for what had she done that she should feel remorse?

  17

  There was a new crispness about the garden. Groups of daffodils edged the lawn; beds of tulips, their colours just beginning to show, bordered the paths; the herbaceous borders were thick with a variety of greens; among them were already showing sprinklings of tall, star-faced yellow dorontiums. The house was newly painted, black and cream. There were fresh light curtains at all the windows, some blowing gently out into the bright sunlight. Everything had a prosperous, well-ordered appearance.

  Kate, standing in the greenhouse slowly arranging daffodils into bundles and tying them with bass, kept looking up over the garden towards the house. With each uplifted glance she murmured the same words: ‘Oh God, make something happen.’ She murmured them so often they seemed to become part of her regular breathing. She had ceased to see the garden or the house as they were. The house was merely the place from which Annie would emerge when she returned from church, where she had spent most of this Good Friday, and the garden a piece of ground over which she would walk.

  This was the last holiday Annie would spend here. In two weeks’ time this would no longer be her home, and never, ever again would she belong to her. Oh God!

  Kate pulled the binding too tight, and it snapped, scattering the flowers on the floor. As she knelt down to pick them up she was hidden from view by the racks, and for a moment she pressed her head against the wooden support, and the tears she was continually restrai
ning welled up and ran down her cheeks…It can’t happen! Is this a punishment on me for denying the Church? Oh God, don’t punish me this way. Anything else! Anything else!

  Rodney’s voice, calling her name, came to her from the garden. She carefully dried her eyes, and as she gathered up the flowers she thought, with sudden intensity: Something must happen! I’ll will something to happen. Anything! Anything! The words seemed to be screamed inside her.

  Rodney, looking round the garden, caught sight of her when she straightened up, and hurried towards her, his limp becoming pronounced in his haste. ‘I didn’t see you there,’ he said as he opened the door.

  Kate saw at a glance that he was excited, and her heart leapt. He’s got news, she thought, he’s heard something.

  ‘Who do you think I’ve been talking to?’ he said. She shook her head, her eyes wide and staring. ‘Steve.’

  She felt her body collapse like a pricked balloon.

  ‘I caught a glimpse of him in Grainger Street, in Newcastle. I got out of the car and caught him up. He’s had a rough time, Kate.’

  She smiled at him, covering her disappointment, for she knew that this meeting was something he had been hoping for since he had learnt the real reason for Steve’s departure.

  She said, ‘Oh, I’m glad you’ve seen him. How is he?’

  ‘In rather low water; he’s only been in work a couple of months since he left here…He didn’t really have a brother to go to.’

  ‘But surely Steve could get a job anywhere?’

  ‘Yes, if there were jobs to get. But as he said, and not without some truth, it’s the ex-majors and -colonels who are being taken on as chauffeurs these days…You know, Kate, I think he’s missed us as much as we’ve missed him. He got a post with a family in Jesmond directly after leaving here. But he gave it up, which he regretted after a while, for he’s done nothing since.’

  ‘Where’s he living?’ asked Kate.

  ‘He didn’t say, but I’ve got an idea it’s a lodging-house.’

  ‘Oh no! Poor Steve.’

  ‘Kate …’

  ‘Yes, darling?’

  ‘Would you mind if I have him back?’

  ‘No, no, of course not. Not at all!’ Kate said spontaneously. ‘You know, I never blamed him. It was her…that –’ her voice choked—‘that devil! She’s caused all this.’ She turned from him, unable to control her tears.

  ‘Oh, darling, don’t—’ He pulled her round to him. ‘For a moment I forgot…Don’t. There, my dearest. There.’ He stroked her hair.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘But oh, Rodney, what can we do?’ She leant back within the circle of his arm and looked into his face, her eyes beseeching him to give her hope.

  He shook his head: ‘I can’t see any way out, bar taking it to law, since she’s not yet twenty-one. But I’ve never heard of anyone going to law to stop their daughter entering a convent. And Father Bailey has done his utmost. I wouldn’t have believed he would try so hard to persuade her against it…But you know, my dear, it’s my belief, and it’s rather late in the day to start thinking this way, that there’s been too much persuading done in one way and another. If we had ignored the whole matter, it might have been better, for she seems more set now than ever. It’s that damn calm manner she’s assumed. You can’t get beneath it. If you could, you’d let loose all the torment she’s going through, and then there’d be some hope of getting her to change her mind. But as it is, there’s no way out I can see. My dear,’ he said, gripping her shoulder, ‘with every pore of my body I hate the thought of her going in there, but I’m afraid we’ll have to make up our minds to it. As Father Bailey caustically pointed out that day, you always wanted her to be free to choose. Well, you’ll have to look at it that way: she’s made her choice.’

  ‘No, she hasn’t! She hasn’t!’ Kate burst out. ‘I know how she feels inside. She still loves Terence, and that…that witch told her something about Terence that day. I know it! I know it! And the tragedy is, it may not be anything of importance. But she’s so young that she thinks it’s unforgivable! If she could keep this attitude up for ever I wouldn’t be afraid for her, but she’ll wake up…and then…Oh! I don’t know what will happen. Sometimes,’ she ended, ‘I feel there is no justice in the world. Here’s Annie’s life broken before it begins, and we’re all unhappy, while that monster who started it all is enjoying herself in London.’

  ‘Come,’ said Rodney quietly, taking her by the arm, ‘I want to show you something.’

  As they went up the garden he said, ‘Getting back to Steve, he won’t return unless you agree, for he feels responsible for what happened to you.’

  ‘Oh, that’s silly!’ said Kate. ‘It wasn’t his fault. When is he coming to see you?’

  ‘He’s not coming at all unless he’s sure of your attitude. He’s going to phone me about three-thirty.’ He looked at his watch: ‘It’s nearly that now.’

  ‘Oh, tell him to come. Tell him to come down and have some tea with us. It may take our minds off things for a time. And you’ll have to give Paynter notice as soon as possible, won’t you?’ she asked.

  ‘He was going anyway, he’s only on a month’s trial. You know,’ he laughed, ‘I’m getting a bad name as a boss; Paynter is the third in six months. Steve spoilt me for any of these time-keeping johnnies. And I know someone else who’ll be glad to see him…old Summy; she’s always on about him.’

  They went into the study, and Rodney took a paper from his desk. ‘Look at that,’ he said, pointing to an announcement. ‘The mills of God are starting to grind for her.’

  Kate read:

  The engagement is announced between Lord John Dane Dee, only son of Eustace, eighth Earl of Halstead, Essex, and Maud, Countess of Halstead, and Patricia, youngest daughter of Lt-Col R. A. C. Fanshawe MC and Mrs Fanshawe, of Fenton Manor, Surrey.

  She turned to Rodney: ‘But hasn’t he been going after Cathleen? Didn’t she think …?’

  ‘Yes. He may have done, but apparently not with marriage in view.’

  ‘I can’t feel sorry.’ Kate looked squarely at Rodney. ‘I think it’s only what she deserves. Now she will know what it feels like to be hurt. The only thing is, she’ll likely make someone else pay for it; she’ll never suffer alone.’

  Rodney turned to his desk and began to arrange his papers. That was true. Cathleen would always take payment for her frustration and disappointment…But she was alone now, in London. For a moment the old feeling of sympathy for her returned. After all, she was really very young, and completely on her own, for there was no place now to which she could return. He shook himself. What a hold that girl had on the emotions! His common sense told him she wouldn’t be alone for long, and Peter’s words came back to him: she’d be on the streets within twenty-four hours. It sounded terrible, but that seemed her destiny.

  Would he ever see her again? He hoped not. It wasn’t likely she would return to the north now that her defeat was made evident in the papers. He felt a sense of relief that his family was out of the line of her retaliation. But had she not already done her worst here? He turned to where Kate was sitting staring wearily out of the window, her kind eyes shadowed with pain. His conscience smote him…that Cathleen could have had the power to make him doubt this woman, even for a moment. His love should have been strong enough to withstand a thousand Cathleens. His love was strong, it was like a rock. Then Cathleen’s power for evil must be even greater. In this moment his last vestige of sympathy for her vanished.

  Annie had her back towards Kate when she said, ‘I’m going to the clinic to see the children. I’ll have tea with them, and if David’s down there I’ll bring him back with me.’

  ‘But Annie, I’ve just told you, Steve’s coming to tea…Surely you want to see him, don’t you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But you can’t blame him. You know as well as I do—’ She stopped abruptly, then said sharply, ‘You must stay to tea, Annie!’

  ‘I’m not going to…
After all, there’s no need for me to see him. When he comes back, I’ll…well, there’s no need for me to see him if I don’t want to.’

  ‘When will you grow up?’ Kate said, almost angrily. ‘Your trouble is you put the wrong value on things!’

  Annie turned and looked at her coldly. Why did everyone think she was still young? The ‘things’ Kate was referring to were sex, of course—almost the same words as Terence had used. She said evenly: ‘Well, you taught me nearly all my values.’

  She would not allow herself to be touched by the pain in Kate’s eyes. She would not allow herself to be touched by anything.

  She walked past Kate, through the hall and out into the garden by the side door. It wouldn’t be long now, just a matter of days, and then she’d have peace. No more strain…it would be done. She wouldn’t have to face Kate’s and Rodney’s eyes and feel them forever watching her. Kate had expected her to meet Steve as if nothing had happened, after all she had told her. Didn’t she see that it took two to do…to commit sin? The word struck a false note in her mind, but she could think of no other to replace it. If she could overlook Steve’s action she could overlook…She wasn’t going to dwell on the matter. She would dismiss it from her mind.

  On the way to the clinic she decided instead to sit in the tennis pavilion and read. The sun was quite warm and she would be quiet and undisturbed there.

  Annie had only just left the house when the doorbell rang. At the sight of Brian Kate experienced a strange apprehensive feeling, followed by a surge of hope…wild hope, which found instant opposition in her mind. Well, far rather she married Brian than that the other thing should happen, she argued. But there was only a fortnight, no time at all, left. Yet if she told him of Annie’s intentions anything could happen in that time. He was domineering and tenacious, and his conceit, she knew, had never yet allowed him to recognise failure of any kind…and he wanted Annie so much.