i f6c06dd9cf3fe221

by Unknown

  "Where is he?" asked Rodney.

  "Oh, he's cleared out. He always does after a bout like this. You won't see him for days; goes to his sister's in Jarrow, I think. Hope he breaks his bloody neck in getting there. That's my prayer.... Can you see your way?" he asked, as Rodney went up the stairs, and added:

  "You stay here with me, Annie, and we'll see if we can get this place straight."

  Sarah, sitting beside Kate's bed, gave a start as Rodney entered the room, and her fingers went uncertainly to her mouth, and Mrs. Mullen, looking up from the fire she was tending, exclaimed in surprise; "Why, doctor 1' Rodney gave her a nod and bent over Kate, whose face was ashen except where it was spattered with blood. A towel, pressed to her neck, was red and wet.

  He stripped off his coat.

  "Come," he said to Sarah gently.

  "You must go to bed;

  you shouldn't be up, you know. " Whatever had to be done, he couldn't do it with her sitting looking at him, with that pained and frightened expression.

  "Will she die?" asked Sarah, letting him help her to rise.

  "Not if I can help it ... you know that," he added softly.

  She turned to him at the door, looking up into his face: "You'll not hurt my Kate?" she pleaded. "Oh, doctor, don't hurt her."

  "I'll never hurt Kate," he answered, after a moment.

  "You can rest assured."

  She sighed and turned away as if satisfied. Mrs. Mullen, taking her arm, put her own construction on the conversation.

  "Of course he won't hurt her, Sarah. You know that. If anyone can put her right, it will be the doctor."

  "Pray God you're right," murmured Rodney, as he set about examining Kate.

  She lay quite still, her eyes dosed. When he lifted up an eyelid he saw she was conscious, but she gave no sign of recognition.

  He took the towel gently away from her neck and examined the wound, his eyes narrowing as he did so. What an escape! Another fraction and it would have been a jugular vein. As it was she had lost a lot of blood.

  She was still in her clothes--what was left of them. Her blouse was torn in shreds, disclosing the weals on her breast and shoulders. The flesh was torn in places, and was now beginning to disco lour His jaw stiffened, even as his heart melted with pity.

  "Can you help me, Mrs. Mullen?" he asked, as she came back into the room.

  "I'll do whatever I can, doctor," she answered.

  "That's good. Then just follow what I say and we'll get along fine....

  First get me some boiling water, and then we'll start."

  "You've missed your vocation, Mrs. Mullen," said Rodney, some time later.

  "You should have been a nurse."

  Her homely face flushed at his praise.

  "Never had no chance of being anything like that, in my time," she said. "Will I try to get her clothes off, doctor?" she added.

  "No, her corsets are loose, so that's all right."

  "I'll sit up with her," said Mrs. Mullen.

  "I'll just go and settle them next door, and I'll come back. She'd better not be left, had she?"

  Rodney turned from washing his hands and picked up the towel and dried them carefully.

  "No, she can't be left," he said; 'but I'll be staying, Mrs. Mullen.

  "

  For a moment she looked her surprise.

  Then: "Very well, doctor," she said.

  "I'll get you some wood up to keep this fire going."

  It was none of her business. She had heard rumours, which she hadn't believed for a minute; but now . well, he was a fine chap. But he was married and Kate was a Catholic, and these things didn't ought to be.

  Still, she had a family of her own, and God knew what some of them would come to. Look at her Michael, for instance, going after Betty Farrow, and her a rank Nonconformist. You see, you couldn't tell what'd befall your baims. And with Kate being so bonny and that, it was harder for her. Well, shed keep her mouth shut. Nobody would know owl from her. "I'll bring you up a bite to eat, later on," she said, and went out.

  It was dose on two o'clock when Rodney heard the carol singers. At first their voices were distant and thin. They were some streets away, he thought, and he hoped they would come no nearer and disturb Kate.

  She was sleeping peacefully, after having had a light draught, and the deathly pallor had gone from her face. He felt he had been sitting there for an eternity; he felt no weariness nor any discomfort from the straight-backed chair. Had the choice lain with him of being whisked away to any place on earth at that moment, he would have elected to stay exactly where he was.

  The room had changed since he had last seen it; the floor was now covered with linoleum, a chintz frill camouflaged the wash-hand stand, and a number of books stood upon a chest of drawers. These additions, together with the innovation of a gas mantle, had transformed the appearance of the room from that of stark poverty, which he remembered, and gave it an air of homeliness.

  Kate had neither spoken to him nor looked at him, but he knew she was aware of his presence. He sat close to the bed, feeling more at peace than he had been for years.

  The carol singers, suddenly giving voice a few doors away, made him start. Strong male and female voices rose to the heavens, crying:

  "God rest you merry, gentlemen, Let nothing you dismay ..."

  He clicked his tongue with impatience, and was about to rise when Kate said, in a small voice, "It's all right; I like to hear them."

  "I thought you were still sleeping," Rodney said softly.

  "Kate, look at me. How are you feeling?"

  She opened her eyes slowly and looked up at him, as he bent above her, and her answer surprised him.

  "At peace," she said.

  They stared at each other, in silence. Then she murmured, "Do you believe in prayers being answered?"

  Before Rodney could reply, she went on, "No, you don't. You don't believe in God, do you?"

  "Don't talk, my dear," he said soothingly, his fingers on her pulse.

  "I must talk. Don't stop me. If I don't speak now, I never shall....

  Rodney," she whispered his name for the first time.

  He caught her hand and carried the palm to his mouth.

  "Oh, my love!"

  "I prayed to see you before you went to France, and my prayers have been answered."

  "Beloved 1' The dropping of her de fences was so unexpected that he felt light headed. He sat down and pulled his chair nearer to her, and traced his lips over her fingers: " Oh, Kate! "

  "Nothing can be changed," she whispered, 'only I wanted you to know before you went that I.

  I.

  "

  "Say it, my darling."

  He remained still, her hand pressed to his mouth, waiting

  "I love you."

  Making a little sound like a sigh he laid his face on the pillow beside hers. His cheek couldn't touch her because of the padding around her neck. But she turned her head slightly, and they lay looking at each other in silence.

  When she would have spoken he put his fingers on her lips: "Not now, my beloved. Not now. Go to sleep."

  He gently stroked her hair, and the delight of touching it was overwhelming.

  "You can talk tomorrow and tell me all the things I long to hear....

  It's all right," he assured her as a flicker of apprehension came into her eyes, 'nothing is changed; I know that. Sufficient to hear you say you love me. Sufficient for life, my dear. "

  As she dropped off to sleep again, he thought of the strangeness of the past twelve hours; most of all, that she had to be beaten almost to death for her prayer to be answered, and that through her suffering he had been saved from himself.

  FRANCE

  "No, Annie; you're not going. And don't ask again."

  Kate went on kneading lumps of dough into loaves and putting them into tins.

  "There's hardly any coal left. Rate. And Rosie and Florrie and Jimmy got a sackful of lovely cinders yesterday, nearly six bucke
tfuls...."

  "I've told you you're not going 1' Kate turned sharply on Annie as the back door opened.

  "And don't ask again."

  "And why not, may I ask?" queried Mrs. Mullen, coming in.

  "It's going to do her no harm, Kate, going getting a few cinders."

  Kate sighed.

  "She's not going, Mrs. Mullen."

  ' "Tisn't any disgrace, Kate. They like it; it's a sort of game to them. And when they sit round the fire at night, it's their fire."

  "It's no use talking ... she's not going."

  "You make me sick, Kate, so you do. You can't bring her up in cotton wool, not round these doors you can't.... And you can't bum the candle at both ends, either."

  Kate gave her a sharp glance.

  "Ah!" went on Mrs. Mullen; 'thinks nobody knows; but you can't sneak out of the house at midnight and come back in the small hours of the morn in', without anybody hearing you. You weren't back at three this mornin', for I listened for you. Now, don't you think it's better to let the child go and pick in the daylight than you to sit on the tip among a lot of men in the dead of the night? "

  Kate arranged the loaf tins along the fender and covered them with a doth.

  "They are mostly women who are there, the few men are old," she said.

  It's a disgrace that you should go at all," said Mrs. Mullen.

  "But not that Annie should go?" questioned Kate sharply.

  "No, that's different; she's only a hairn. Anyway, why doesn't that big lazy hulk do some picking? He's not working half his time. What's up with him?" Mrs. Mullen felt she knew, without asking, what was up with Tim Hannigan. He was puzzled, as she was herself. He, of course, would know about Kate and the doctor being thick, and wondered why, consequently, money wasn't more plentiful. She wondered herself. She couldn't, somehow, understand it. It was usual to be in funds, under the circumstances, but Kate certainly wasn't. Hannigan, she thought, was suspecting Kate of withholding her money from the house, and was playing up, making his bad leg an excuse for staying off work.

  "Leave the house without a fire for a few days, he'll soon get a sack on his back then," she finished.

  "There's my mother's fire to be kept going, and bread to bake, and food to cook. I'd rather freeze than ask him ... you know that."

  "Aye, lass, I know," said Mrs. Mullen flatly. She patted Kate's arm.

  "It's a hell of a life.... What makes me mad," she suddenly started,

  'is that lot o'er there," she indicated the houses opposite, 'getting pit coal for practically nowt and selling it for tuppence and tuppence ha' penny a pail, and not a roundie in it. The lot I got yesterday was all slack. Daylight robbers 1' Three faces suddenly appeared at the kitchen window.

  "Is Annie coming?"

  Mrs. Mullen opened the door: "No, she's not. Get yersclves away."

  "Aw ... w!" They stood, shapeless bundles of old coats and scarves, each carrying a bucket and a riker, and Rosie with an empty sack slung over her back.

  "Aw... wl Why not?"

  "She's got chilblains," said Mrs. Mullen.

  "Off you go now, and get a nice lot. And if we get a good fire going we'll have panhacklety tonight and ask Santa Claus to come and have a tuck in."

  "Ooh I Panhacklety and Santa Claus!" the younger ones cried, banging their buckets together.

  They went off down the yard, yelling, "At the cross, at the cross, where the Kaiser lost his horse and the eagle on his hat flew away...."

  But Rosie followed more slowly, turning to the window to look at Annie, standing wistfully there.

  "You're a fool, you know, but I suppose you know your own business best."

  Mrs. Mullen opened the stair door: "Anything you want taking up?" she asked.

  "No thanks," said Kate.

  "She's had her wash and her breakfast. And, Mrs. Mullen ... you won't mention the tip?"

  "Now what d'you take me for, a numbskull?" Mrs. Mullen gave a toss of her head and went upstairs.

  Kate turned to Annie: "Look out and see if the postman's coming," she said, glancing at the clock.

  It was a quarter to ten. Surely he hadn't been. ,. He'd be late, it was Christmas Eve. Oh, there must be a letter this morning; he couldn't have gone to France without letting her know . if he were still in England, he would have written. Over a week now and no letter; when every other day had brought a letter from him. What was wrong?

  Annie returned: "I can't see him, Kate.... Do you want me to go any messages?" she asked.

  "Yes, you'd better go and get some things." Kate sat down and wrote out a list of groceries, pausing as she did so to consider whether the money would run to all she was putting down. She thought of the case of groceries which had come every Christmas from the Tolmaches and she experienced again that deep sense of personal loss for the very dear people who had provided them. It seemed impossible to believe that she would visit the house in Westoe no more, that the three people who had given her new life now lay, side by side, in the earth.

  The brother and sister had seemed to wither away after Rex had died and Kate had left them. They had died in the previous summer within a month of each other, Bernard going first. In his will Bernard had left Kate twenty153

  five pounds of the hundred which was the total amount of his estate besides his books. Their generosity had amazed Kate afresh when she had learned that they had been living on annuities, not over large tor their wants, either. Yet there had always been an outfit every year from Miss Tolmache, and clothes for Annie, expensive books from Mr.

  Bernard, and sly boxes of chocolates and a pound or two from Mr.

  Rex.

  Oh, Kate thought, were there ever such people born, as they!

  She remembered her last talk with Mr. Bernard: "Take happiness, Kate,"

  he had said, holding her hands.

  "It's all that matters. To be happy and to make another supremely so is the reason for being. In all my life of thinking and pondering I have come to know this as an essential truth. I learned it a little late, more's the pity, but you, Kate, can build your life on it...."

  She wondered if he had known. She thought he had . dear, beloved Mr.

  Bernard.

  "Will I get the taties from the shop, Kate, or will I fetch them from the docks?"

  "Potatoes, Annie!"

  "Potatoes... I'm sorry, I forgot."

  "Get them from the shop; they are too heavy to carry from the docks.

  Here's the list, and that's a ha' penny for your tram back. And don't stop if a man should speak to you, unless you know him; you understand?

  "

  "Yes, Kate."

  "Go on then."

  "Here's the postie, Kate," Annie called from the front door. "Postman, I mean," she added.

  "All right, dear, I'm coming. Go along."

  Kate waited tensely at the door for the postman's approach.

  "Two for you," he said, as he put them into her hand.

  She looked down at their open flaps . Christmas cards!

  Oh, Rodney, what is it? What's happened? The anxiety was like a heavy weight bearing her down.

  She returned to the kitchen and stood looking round her; the feeling of being hemmed in, chained for life within these four walls, returned.

  That was how she had felt when she had first left the Tolmaches, but Rodney, from last Christmas Eve, had lifted her spiritually out of this house and these streets.

  The sufferings she had experienced that night had almost broken her spirit. The humiliation of cowering under the merciless flailing of the belt had affected her more than the physical pain, bringing with it a desire for death. And then he had come. From the moment he entered the room she knew that he alone could give her the desire to live, and she would fight against him no more.

  After a week he had gone, leaving her still in bed, dazed with a strange happiness that demanded nothing but the knowledge that they loved each other. And then his letters had come, sometimes every day, at least every other
day. They were like beams of clear light shining through the muck of her surroundings.

  Only once had they met since . a few stolen hours taken from a broken journey when on his way to a remote corner of Scotland. He had wired her to meet him in Newcastle, and they had sat for most of the time in a restaurant, strangely tongue-tied, offering each other food which they neither wanted not could eat. Her love on that day, as now, was no dazed thing, content with words as it had been earlier in the year.

  Her body had cried out to give him all that she knew he desired but for which he would never now ask. His love had taken on a tender quality that seemed foreign to the desire that emanated from him. It puzzled her and made her impatient. If only he would take her by force, would give her no time to be afraid or to reason, no time to think of the future, the time that would come for looking back, and around her at the living consequence of their union . this was what she dreaded, another child, who would perhaps say to her, as Annie had said, "They said I hadn't a da." Later, Annie might forgive her for having, in the ignorance of youth, created her, but would be ashamed of her for having knowingly created another. Her mind had repeated, "She's right," but her heart had cried, "Nothing matters'.

  Mrs. Mullen came down the stairs and into the kit t55

  chen, breaking in on her thoughts.

  "She's a bit brighter this morning, Kate."

  "Yes, she seems to have had a good night." Kate changed the loaf tins around on the fender.

  "Well, I suppose I'll have to go and make a start," Mrs. Mullen sighed.

  "It isn't a bit like Christmas this year. I've no heart to do anything.

  What with the war and our Michael I don't know where I am. I just can't get over him. He's never missed mass or benediction for years until lately. Our Peter used to scoff him and say he should be a priest, and now he wants to marry a Nonconformist. "

  "She's a nice girl," said Kate.

  "I can quite understand him wanting to marry her."

  "There are plenty of nice Catholic girls, and you know, Kate, there's no good ever comes of a mixed marriage."

  "No, I don't," said Kate sharply.

  "I suppose it is better if they are both of the same religion, but if they love each other that's all that matters."

  "Love! Kate, you talk like a child." Mrs. Mullen was scornful.