She sighed now and seemed to slip further back onto the chair before she said, ‘He’s me grandson, ma’am, you know, the one I told you about, one of our Maggie’s lot. Oh, I’ve had a time of it, I can tell you. I told you, ma’am, she went off and left the three of them with Jimmy, that’s their dad, but she saw them every weekend. They were like yo-yos: first with their dad and his new fancy piece, and then with our Maggie and her bit. Anyway, ma’am, to cut a long story short, our Maggie scarpered.’ She nodded her head at me now. ‘Yes, she did it again from the fellow she left Jimmy for, she went off with another one. And where to? As far as I can gather, Australia. And Jimmy’s piece finding them on her hands all the time wouldn’t have it, and she threatens to walk out on him, and Jimmy’s at his wits end an’ for putting the lot of them into care. But my Harry got on his hind legs and said they had to come home, I had to take them; and there was I with Greg, Rodney and May still clinging to me skirt tails. And Max, who I told you was divorced, well he’s out of work and he landed. Well, I can tell you, ma’am, I nearly went round the bend. But I was just saved by Hilda. You know, she’s single but she’s got a boyfriend, and she’s got a bit of a flat, and they’re a couple, dyed hair, the lot. But I must say she turned up trumps and said she’d take Doris and Gloria—Doris is eight and Gloria’s nine—for a time. But there was no way she would have young ’Arry’—Janet now thumbed towards the drawing room door—‘because he’s a holy terror. But in a way it’s understandable, for he’s been passed from dog to devil and he’s listened to so much he doesn’t know right from wrong, I mean with regard to talkin’ like. Well, as you’ve just heard, ma’am, it comes out as often as God Bless You with him. Anyway, for the last few weeks he’s been mostly with his grandad, his dad’s father, and that man should be locked up. Well, he is for a time because he’s now been put in a home. So there you are, ma’am. It was either staying at home to look after him, because nobody else will take the responsibility of him, or bringin’ him along of me.’
‘Well, don’t let that worry you, Janet. If you don’t mind bringing him, I certainly won’t mind his being here, and I’m sure neither will Nardy.’
‘Oh, you don’t know what you’re sayin’, ma’am. He never stops talkin’ and askin’ questions. But I wouldn’t care if it’s in ordinary English. Oh! I’m ashamed to me boots at times. And I wouldn’t take him in a bus, not to save me life.’
‘You don’t walk all this way with him?’
‘I do, ma’am.’ She made a deep obeisance with her head. ‘You haven’t heard him. He’s got one tone, and that’s loud. And if people don’t look at him when he starts, they look at me and they tut-tut-tut. Mind, at times I feel like turning on them I do; I’d like to hear their language when they’re behind their own doors. And the trouble is he picks up everything so quickly. He’s bright, more than bright for his age, and he comes out with things like an old man at times. But of course, that’s his grandad. And I don’t get any help from the lads at home: they encourage him; they think it’s funny. Yet, ask one of them to stay in and look after him, an’ they leave greased lightning standing’.’
‘Come on, Janet.’ I rose to my feet. ‘Let me go and meet the culprit properly.’ I smiled widely at her, but she did not return the smile.
‘You’ll have to be prepared, ma’am, an’ not be shocked,’ she said.
‘It will take a lot of language to shock me, Janet.’ My tone and face were serious now. ‘I had a husband once who, from almost the day we were married, sprayed me every night with the most vile language, and I mean vile language, not just swearing.’
‘That a fact, ma’am?’
‘Yes, it’s a fact, Janet. And that man got his deserts a few days ago, twelve years.’
‘Yes, yes, I know that, I read it. But to think he treated you like that. For meself, I don’t mind swearin’, but I can’t stand dirt.’
I understood what she meant only too well: I couldn’t stand dirt either.
When I entered the kitchen and really looked at Harold Stoddart for the first time, a sort of gurgle spiralled up from my stomach and stuck somewhere at the top of my breast bone. He was what you call, podgy. He had round dark eyes in a round face, topped by a mass of fair hair. But this combination didn’t make him look like a cherub, anything but.
‘Hello there,’ I said.
He made no reply, just fixed those dark round eyes on me, until Janet said, ‘Say hello to the lady, young ’Arry.’
The eyes were turned, from me and took on a glare as he looked at his grandmother and said, ‘I’ve told you, Gag, tain’t ’Arry, ’tis ’Arold.’ Then looking at me again, he stated, ‘I’m ’Arold, like ’Ark the ’Arold Angels Sing, that ’Arold.’
‘That’s not Harold,’ I now stated, holding the young man’s eye; ‘That’s Hark The Herald Angels Sing.’
‘Same.’
‘No it isn’t.’
‘Bloody well is.’
‘’Arry.
‘Well, ’tis.’
‘You behave yourself, d’you hear?’ Janet was bending over him. ‘Or you know what you’ll get.’
‘Smacked arse.’ The round face went into a wide grin now. Then he almost fell on that same part of his anatomy as Janet’s hand slapped him lightly across the ear. And now the small face twisted up, the lips trembled as he said, ‘Oh, Gag, that ’urt.’
It was obvious, however, that there was no resentment in the child’s statement; but Janet, for her part, was visibly disturbed. And I came to her rescue by saying, ‘Can you knock me up a poached egg or something quickly, Janet? I’ve got an appointment with the doctor at half past two. But in the meantime this young man and I will go into the drawing room and have a talk.’
As Janet groaned I held out my hand, and to my surprise it was instantly taken. Together, we walked across the hall and entered the drawing room. But immediately we crossed the threshold my young companion said, ‘She won’t let me in ’ere, Gag won’t.’
‘Well, I can understand that.’
‘What? What d’yer say?’
‘I said, I can understand your grandmother not letting you come into this room because there’s a lot of ornaments that you could easily knock over. Come and sit down.’ I led him to the couch. And when he went to climb on it I said, ‘No, not with your feet, sit down.’ And I lifted him up and plonked him on the edge of the couch, his feet sticking out before him.
I did not sit down by his side, but took the chair that Janet had vacated earlier, so that we were facing each other. And I was about to speak when my young visitor said, ‘This your ’ouse?’
‘Yes, this is my house.’
‘All on it?’
‘Yes, all on…of it.’
He now let his gaze range round the room as far as his head could see over the end of the couch. Then he made an exclamation. I don’t know whether of condemnation or admiration: ‘Bloody hell!’ he said.
‘Harold!’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you know that you are swearing?’
The round eyes gazed fixedly into mine. Then he said, ‘What d’yer mean?’
‘I mean that you were using bad words.’
‘What bad words?’
‘Those that you’ve just said, when you were looking around this room and you were surprised by the colours and the size of it.’
His eyes were screwed up, and I saw that he was thinking. And now, when that loud, toneless voice said, ‘You mean bloody hell?’ I managed to say calmly, ‘Yes, that’s what I mean. Those are swear words.’
‘Swear words?’
‘Yes, swear words, not nice, not for little boys to use.’
‘Uncle Max uses ’em, an’ Uncle Greg, an’ Grandad Stodd, he uses ’em all the time…swear words.’
‘Well, they are grown up, you are just a little boy.’
‘I ain’t. I’m four-an’-’alf, comin’ up five…You the woman wots got an ’orse?’
I swallowed deeply now, closed my eyes for a
second, and knew what I would see when I opened them, and there he was, hanging over the back of the couch, his whole big black sleek body shaking with laughter, while Begonia stood at the head of the couch gazing solemnly down on this precocious mite.
I tried to ignore the pair of them and, looking at Harold again, I said, ‘Yes, I’m the lady who has a horse.’
‘Wot ain’t there, like?’
When I made no comment on this, Harold added for my information, ‘You’re the lady wot sees things, an’ gets a barra’ money for it. Are you barmy?’
I refused to look over the back of the couch. I kept my eyes fixed on this terrible infant and said, ‘No, I am not barmy. What makes you think I am?’
I watched him trying to think up an answer. His fixed gaze left my face, he looked at his fingernails, then began to pick them, using the thumb and the nail of the index finger of his left hand to clean the nails of his right. Then, lowering his gaze, he looked at his feet sticking out before him, and then he made another statement: ‘Grandad Stodd says; all the buggers around our way are barmy.’
What could I do? My head drooped; I covered my eyes as much as I could with my outstretched hand; I coughed, took a handkerchief from the pocket of my dress, and blew my nose; and, when his voice came at me, asking, ‘You got the flu?’ I shook my head while I continued to blow my nose.
When I uncovered my eyes and relieved my nose of rubbing it with my handkerchief, my companion asked, ‘You feel better now?’
‘Yes. Yes, thank you.’
‘I’m goin’ to school soon.’
As I saw Hamilton now cover his eyes with one of his front hoofs and mutter, God help them! I said, ‘That will be nice. But you must learn not to swear before you go to school.’
‘Why?’
‘Because…because little boys don’t swear at school.’
I almost did hear a snort coming from behind the couch as I went on, ‘They’ll be punished if they do.’
‘You mean they’ll get their ear ’oles banged?’
‘Yes. Well, not exactly.’ Oh dear me. I looked towards the drawing room door and almost said aloud, Oh, Janet, hurry up! for this little fellow was getting beyond me. And when, hitching himself towards the end of the couch and placing his feet on the carpet, he poked his head forward and in a voice that was for once a tone lower, which I imagined was his type of whisper, he said, ‘I know a lot of other words Grandad Stodd told me. D’yer want to hear ’em?’
‘No…not particularly. What I mean is…’
He was by the side of my chair now. His whisper still loud, he went on, ‘Grandad Stodd said they were special like an’…an’ I had to keep ’em till I got to school.’
‘He did? Well, I think . . . ’ I was about to say, your Grandfather Stodd is a very nasty old man, when the small hand came up and gripped the collar of my dress, which caused me to bend my head towards him, and there he was, his face close to mine, a wicked grin on it: ‘If I tell yer can I come back ’ere again?’ he said.
Well, I thought, I might as well hear the worst, so I nodded slightly. Then the small mouth was close to my ear and a puff of his breath crept over my cheek before he brought out the words, ‘Goal stones!’
My head swung round, our noses almost scraped in the passing, and I could see glee registered on his face at the amazement on mine. And now I whispered back at him, almost choking as I did so, ‘Gallstones?’ His eyes stretched, his upper lip aimed to reach his chin, his nose poked forward, and he repeated, ‘Goal stones.’
Now the imp in myself asked quietly, ‘Do you know any more like that…that Grandad Stodd said?’
He had hold of my ear now and his breath was once again fanning my cheek, and the next dreadful words which came from his small mouth were, ‘Bedpan an’ ’abit shirt.’
My face was screwed up tight. Whoever Grandad Stodd was, he had a sense of humour, and he was a man who realised that gallstones and bedpans and habit shirt, whatever that was, wouldn’t shock the teachers as much as bloody and bugger might.
I was saved from another confidence by Janet coming into the room carrying a tray. After placing it on the table, she came towards us and, noticing my wet face, she looked from me to her grandson, then back to me. And after a moment she said, ‘Has he behaved himself, ma’am?’
‘Oh, yes, yes,’ I said hastily; ‘he’s been a very good boy. And if he remains a good boy’—I had one eye on him now—‘and doesn’t swear so much, you know, using those big naughty words, then you may bring him into this room when I’m away.’
‘Can I, ma’am?’
Janet realising the situation, played up, adding now, ‘But I’ll have to tell you if he keeps using them, won’t I, ma’am?’
‘Oh, yes, yes.’ I nodded emphatically at her now. Then we both looked down on the subject of our exchange when it said, ‘Will you tell me Uncle Max an’ Uncle Greg, Gag, they got to stop an’ all? And Grandad ’Arry, will you tell him an’ all? ’cos he’s always sayin’ soddid. Is soddid a swear…?’
Janet took him swiftly from the room, the child’s feet hardly touching the ground, and I dropped on to the couch and laid my head back and looked at Hamilton doing cartwheels the whole length of the room, while Begonia still stood at the end of the couch, smiling, the while she endeavoured not to. When at last Hamilton stopped and sat on his haunches in front of me, he said, Won’t Nardy enjoy him? And I, nodding at him, replied, ‘Oh, yes, yes, he will.’
Thirteen
It was early May when I finally brought Nardy home. The sun was shining, the trees were in their first coat of light green. The parks and window boxes were full of wallflowers, and tulips. We had come by ambulance from Newcastle. Although Nardy could now sit in a wheelchair and walk a few steps with aid, a train journey would have been out of the question. And here he was, being pushed out of the lift and into the hallway. And there was Janet waiting.
She remained still, looking at him for a moment; then swiftly coming towards him, she held out both her hands and when he gripped them and pulled her down to him and kissed her, she burst into a flood of tears, saying, ‘Oh, Mr Leonard. Oh, Mr Leonard.’
‘Would you mind?’ I said to the ambulance men, and pointed to our hall door. And when they had pushed Nardy’s chair through and into the drawing room, both men stopped for a moment before pushing the chair further towards the couch. And when Nardy was seated on it, one of the men looked around him. Then bending towards Nardy, he said, ‘I can see how you wanted to be back, sir.’
Nardy said nothing; he only smiled at the men, laid his head back against the couch and let his eyes roam round the room.
I thanked the ambulance men warmly. We had got to know each other on the long journey, especially the one who had sat by the bed all the way. And my heart went out to him because, not only had he read Hamilton, but he had been able to quote from it, in particular the bits in the doctor’s surgery. Apparently his wife had already endorsed that it was exactly as I had described.
They were both surprised at and very grateful for the tip they received and they shook my hand and wished me all the luck in the world.
When I once again entered the drawing room, Nardy extended his hand towards me, and I hurried to him. I sat down beside him; and his arm about me, he laid his head on my shoulder and said simply, ‘Thank God!’
I too thanked Him for having my dear one back home safe, if not sound, for now I was carrying a fresh burden.
This morning the doctor had asked to see me before we left the hospital and, after a polite exchange, he had said, ‘I have written to Doctor Bell concerning your husband, Mrs Leviston, and I think you, too, should be put in the picture. You may have been wondering why we haven’t continued the graftings these last few weeks. Well, we didn’t think it wise owing to the condition of your husband’s heart.’
At these words, a steel hammer seemed to have leapt up and hit my ribs, and the pain made me dumb. I just stared at the man, waiting for his next words. ‘It will no dou
bt improve with time, rest, and care. The main thing in his case is rest, at least for the present. He will naturally have to have therapy to get his joints moving again. Fortunately these are all intact. Doctor Bell will no doubt arrange for a therapist to visit him.’
In a small voice I had asked now, ‘Does my husband know of his condition?’
And to this the doctor had answered, ‘Yes, he knows. But it was his wish that you shouldn’t be informed. However, I made no promise to him one way or the other, but I felt you should know the situation, and how, in the future, he should be treated. He needs rest, but not inertia. The quicker he can walk unaided, the better, for gentle exercise will aid and strengthen his limbs.’
He then ended, ‘It will be up to you whether you let him know that you are aware of this or not. But my advice would be, at the moment, to pretend ignorance, for it would be of no help if he knew you were worried more than you have been.’
So here I was chatting away about the future and where we were going as soon as he was able to travel.
The door opened and Janet came in with the tea trolley, and she stood in front of us and smiled, a warm welcoming smile, as she said, ‘Oh, I’m glad to see you both sitting there again. Oh, I am. It does me heart good.’
I put my hand out towards her, asking now, ‘Where is he?’
‘In the kitchen. I’ve practically had to strap him down.’
‘Fetch him in.’
‘You’re sure? You’d better have a cup of tea first, ’cos mind, I’m tellin’ you, ma’am, he—’ she pressed her lips together, and her eyelids were blinking hiding the laughter there as she ended, ‘he hasn’t improved.’
I wanted to say, ‘Good, good,’ because I had told Nardy so much about the little fellow which had made him laugh until he had begged me to stop, and the fact that the child might have improved would, I thought, have made Nardy imagine that I had created someone else to join my little menagerie.
Goodbye Hamilton Page 18