I noticed the pride in her voice.
‘But his attitude infuriated Dudley and he made my other children’s childhood very difficult when it should have been a happy time.’ The hankie came out again and she blew her nose.
‘Let’s walk a while,’ she said, turning towards the way we had come. As we slowly climbed the steps again she stopped to take a breather. ‘I was ever hopeful that Dudley would grow up and get some sense, but he didn’t change at all. He went to work in the pit when he left school, but he hated it. Hated the hard graft and having to rely on others for his safety, and if I’m honest, the other men didn’t want him down there. His attitude was all about himself. He wasn’t a good man to have to rely on.’ We started climbing again. ‘When he was eighteen he signed up for the army saying he couldn’t wait to leave and he’d never come back to us again. I can’t tell you how relieved I was. It was like being given a gift of peace and every day was like Christmas day after that.’
We fell silent as we reached the top of the steps into Graig Street again. It was the last of the streets at this end of the Graig before the mountain took over in its natural, unruly state. ‘Let’s climb up a way,’ she said, and I followed her in silence trying to avoid the sheep droppings and tufts of coarse grass that could easily trip you up. The mountain loomed bulbous with the grass flecked black from coal dust. I didn’t really want to climb it in my Sunday best, but follow her I did. She was Tom’s mother after all, and I wanted to find out about Dudley.
As we climbed the air became cleaner, but not by much. It depended on which way the wind blew. You had to climb right up to the top to get cleaner air, but most people were too tired or busy to make the trek. After ten minutes or so, we came to a flat rock people used as a seat. There was no one else around and we sat down and kept the silence. I knew better than to disturb her. She seemed to be wrestling with some memories and I wondered if she was trying to decide how much to tell me. With her pride I knew it must have been difficult for her to talk to me about these things. I felt privileged that she was confiding in me, and thought that she must love Tom very much to be helping him in such a way.
I looked at the backs of the houses and rooftops marching down the hillside. They were grey and dark but strangely comforting. I started to get a little chilly and shivered and I think she noticed for she suddenly said, very quickly, as if she was afraid of it, ‘He was dishonourably discharged from the army a year after the war finished.’
‘Dishonourably discharged?’
I could see she was trying hard to keep tears at bay, so I said, gently, ‘Why? What did he do?’
I had to struggle to hear her. ‘He was too difficult for the army. They said his character wasn’t suitable soldier material. He was always getting into fights and volunteered for any duty that might involve some bother or other. It came to a head after a fight he started left the other soldier badly beaten and on the critical list in hospital. It wasn’t the first time, and he’d been warned apparently, but to no avail. He just carried on being the same . . .’ she took a deep breath, ‘horrible person he’s always been.’ She sighed deeply, fingering the hankie in her hand. ‘Poor Dudley,’ she whispered. ‘No one wants him. Not even the army.’
‘How long had he been in?’
‘Seven years in all. Of course, the army wanted him throughout the war, I’m sure he was a fearless fighter, he even won some medals. Then, after he’d been thrown out, he turned up on our door demanding to live with us again. The children had grown up and there was simply not enough room. He would have had to share a room with Tom and that was out of the question. I had to think of Tom’s welfare.’ She hesitated. ‘I’d believed him when he said he wouldn’t come back. It was a great shock to see him again. His father and I decided that he would have to go into lodgings and we arranged for him to go and live with a miner and his wife in a nearby street. They had no children and the man was big and powerful, he could take care of Dudley and his ways. Strangely enough, he seemed to like it there. He respects strength I suppose. Anyway, he always comes to us for Sunday dinner. Quite frankly, I wish he wouldn’t, but he insists, saying he’s part of our family. I’m trying so hard, but he makes it very difficult.’
She didn’t speak as she dabbed her eyes and turned to look at me. ‘You see, it was shortly after Dudley returned that my husband died. He’d been injured in the war and he was in so much pain he had to go to Rookwood Hospital.’
‘That’s in Cardiff, isn’t it? For soldiers injured in the war?’
‘Yes. He’d been shot in the spine and he had great difficulty in walking until finally, he couldn’t walk at all. But he struggled on bravely. I was proud of him. He was a good man, he deserved better.’ Suddenly, she broke down into heaving sobs and her body convulsed uncontrollably. She was living on the edge of her tolerance and I felt Tom had good cause to be afraid for her.
I felt useless and just sat there as she cried herself out. I didn’t dare put my arms around her shoulders, although I felt that was what was needed. She should have someone to lean on but I was so busy stifling my own emotions that I knew I wasn’t the one to help her. I couldn’t. I wasn’t capable.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said as the sobs subsided. ‘I try to be strong for my family, especially Tom, who fusses about me all the time, but I’m not feeling strong. I’m sure Dudley coming back hastened my husband’s end. Oh, it’s all so unfair!’ she shouted. ‘I can’t take much more.’
She looked up at the sky again and I felt she was on the edge of a scream. I’d never seen anyone in such a state and I didn’t know what to do. So we sat there. The two of us: Mrs Mallow trying to gain control of herself and me, shocked and unsure.
‘I watched him, you know,’ she blurted between sobs. ‘I watched him die a painful death. He used to scream with pain when he needed another dose of morphine. But there wasn’t enough to go around all the men. They had to ration it out. Oh God! So much suffering. He was in the hospital for three months before he died. It was awful to watch. I tried to help him. Go there every day, hold his hand. You see . . . I loved him very much and I blame myself for sending him off to war. It was all my fault – like Dudley was all my fault.’
‘Oh, it wasn’t, Mrs Mallow, it wasn’t. You’re too hard on yourself.’
She looked down at her lap, blew her nose and took a deep shuddering breath.
‘We had to move to the Graig after my husband died, and oh, God help me, Dudley moved here too. He found himself lodgings nearby and still comes to Sunday dinner.’ She stared ahead, lost in thought and the look of anguish on her face told me all I needed to know.
She grabbed hold of my hand. ‘I don’t want to see any more suffering in my family, please, for me, please see Tom. Let him talk to you and explain why that stupid, stupid, fight happened and let him explain about Dudley. If, after you’ve heard his story, you still don’t trust him, then at least he’ll know there’s no hope for you two. That’s all I’m asking. Just give him a chance. I’ve never seen him so smitten with a girl before. You’d be good for him – not like those tarts – sorry; I didn’t mean to say that.’ She hesitated. ‘He needs a nice, decent girl, like you, Kate.’
Her tears subsided. She’d gained control once more although little tears escaped from her eyes, a light shower escaping from the storm inside her. I couldn’t really do anything but agree to meet Tom after church next Sunday.
CHAPTER EIGHT
That Sunday, the sun shone. It was warm and the buzzing of the insects felt reassuring. Tom’s face had healed and we were both in our Sunday best but walked up the mountain none-the-less. The tufts of grass were soft underfoot and as long as I avoided the whimberry bushes their ripening berries didn’t stain my shoes. The incline of the Graig Mountain is deceptive and I felt the climb in my calves. I was glad when we reached the rocking stone: two large slabs of stone with their legs embedded in the mountainside while their bodies sat flat and naked exposed to the dirty air. They lay one on top of the oth
er, not quite fitting together, and when I was a child it took six of us jumping at the same time to cause any slight movement to the top stone, but Tom and I didn’t attempt any such frivolity. He took off his jacket and put it down on the rock for us to sit on. We sat in nervous silence for a few minutes. Tom was sitting with his knees up to his chest, clutching them as if they would fall off if he didn’t. He was looking out over the town as if it was the most interesting sight he’d ever seen.
Picking at a thread in my dress, I took a deep breath and said the one thing that I’d promised myself I wouldn’t talk about. ‘I haven’t seen Dudley since your fight. He avoids me now, so at least something good has come out of it.’ I could have kicked myself. Why was I talking about Dudley?
‘I’m glad,’ he said, still looking out over the valley. ‘I told him if I ever caught him near you again I’d kill him.’
‘Tom, please don’t talk like that, it upsets me.’ I picked more strongly at the thread. ‘I don’t like violence, it frightens me.’
He looked down at the rocking stone. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s the only way to make him stay away from you. I don’t mean this to sound rude, but you know he only wants you because I want you, don’t you?’
‘What do you mean? Surely he can get girls for himself. I’ve seen him with a girl on his arm many times.’
‘Yes, that’s true, but they’re girls of a certain type, they seem to like his temperament, his little bit of danger. They find it exciting or something. But nice girls – like you – won’t go near him. He’s always fighting around town, outside the pubs and things. But that’s what he’s like. He likes to spoil things for people.’
We fell silent again. It was now or never. ‘Your mother said you’d tell me about your childhood and how things were between you and Dudley.’
I saw his body stiffen and he took a few deep breaths.
‘Yes, you need to know,’ he said, looking straight ahead. ‘This is difficult, but if you’re to understand about Dudley and me then I have to tell you as much as I can. How it’s always been.’ He rubbed his hands over his face as if he’d walked into a large cobweb. ‘My mother told you some things I think.’
‘She told me that Dudley was always fighting with you, causing trouble between you, but she didn’t go into detail.’
‘Yes, well, she’s right, he made my life hell. I . . . I don’t know where to start.’ He looked anguished.
‘Why not at the beginning?’ I suggested gently. ‘What do you remember first?’
He looked out over the valley. ‘Well, I remember when I was about six and my mother saw bruises all over my body one bath night. Dudley was always tormenting me, pinching me and thumping me. I didn’t say anything to anyone, just said I’d fallen over or something, because if I told, he just became worse. But these were big bruises, much more than usual and when she asked me how I got them I remember crying and it all came out. Dudley got a hiding and was sent to bed without his tea. That night, when I went to bed – we had to share the same bed – he put his pillow over my face and almost suffocated me. I really thought I was going to die.’ He was silent for a while. ‘I’ll never forget the panic of it. I tried to push him off, but he was too strong for me. He told me that tell tales got what was coming to them and one day, he just might have to kill me. And so it went on. It was like torture.’
He stared ahead and I waited patiently, afraid to break his thoughts. He sighed. ‘But never mind about all the details, you get the picture, don’t you?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, Tom. I’m sorry.’
‘Then when I got bigger, I was able to give as good as I got, but I don’t like fighting so I tried not to. It was only if he went too far that I had a scrap with him. Boys fight, Kate, it’s a fact, and boys in Ponty do seem to like a scrap and sometimes it’s difficult not to get involved.’
‘Yes, I know.’
He looked at me for the first time. ‘He always wants to be the top dog and control people, especially me. He said his life was perfect before I came into it.’
He smiled a little. ‘He was the only son with two sisters, he was top dog, but suddenly, he was pushed aside in favour of this little bundle of sunshine – me!’
I laughed and it broke the tension somewhat.
‘But seriously, Kate, he loves power, even if it’s against a dog or a cat, he’ll do his best to rule them and torment them. Being pushed into second place by me made him angry and he gets very nasty and violent when he’s angry. That’s just the way he is.’ He fell silent and took a deep breath.
‘Take your time, Tom, there’s no hurry.’ We smiled at each other in a tentative way.
‘It all sounds so stupid now. I mean, lots of boys fight. But Dudley was different. Oh, how to make you understand . . .’
‘Just tell me simple things, things you remember.’
‘Well, it didn’t help we shared a birthday,’ he said after a while. ‘So there was always a double celebration. He hated that and said I had ruined his birthdays forever. When we were kids he refused to celebrate them. Mam would bake a nice cake and put icing sugar on it as a special treat, but he would throw his piece into the grate. One year after everyone had sung happy birthday to us, he picked up the cake and pushed it hard into my face. My father jumped up and smacked him one round the head in no uncertain terms, but he ruined the party and that was his aim. It’s always his aim, to ruin things for everyone, especially me.’ He looked at me, unsure.
‘Go on,’ I encouraged, ‘you may as well tell me everything. I want to understand.’
‘You’re a nice girl, Kate.’ He looked into my eyes. ‘I can talk to you.’ Then he went all shy and looked down at my hands resting in my lap. He put his hands out to touch them and his were shaking. He hesitated and then stroked the back of my hands, very gently. ‘I’ve not talked like this to anyone before. It’s nice, I like it. You have beautiful hands, so small and perfect.’ He looked at his own. ‘Not like my great big miner’s hands, all rough and chapped and calloused.’ He looked down at the rock again, embarrassed.
I took his hand and squeezed it encouragingly. ‘Go on, Tom.’
‘Well . . . you know, Kate . . . sometimes it’s . . . it’s best not to say too much. It’s not good to know about some things. You’re a nice girl and these things are vile. They’re vile to me, and I’m a miner. It takes a lot to upset a miner. I can’t tell you anymore, it’s not suitable. And truth is, I don’t like to say such things. He looked up at the sky. ‘I think he’s mad. He doesn’t think right. Not like a normal person.’
I was shocked. ‘Is it that bad?’
He looked into my eyes. ‘Oh, yes, it is that bad. He’s a nasty, nasty person.’
‘Do you know why he’s like that?’
‘I wish I knew. Our mam thinks he was born like it. You know, some people are well, just like that I suppose.’
‘Do you think he has some bad feeling about himself, deep down inside and he’s afraid people will find out? I know a boy at my school who was like that and one day he just burst out crying instead of fighting and cried for a fortnight so his mother said. He never did come back to school. His parents moved to another village, for his sake, I think.’
‘Could be, who knows what goes on in his mind, but I doubt it. I never saw Dudley cry. Quite frankly, he’s done so many horrible things to me, I don’t care. I can’t see him any other way but as my enemy. I tried when I was younger to be nice to him, in fact I was always trying to be nice to him and that threw him into an even more violent temper.’
‘I don’t think anyone is wholly bad,’ I said, sounding pompous even to myself. ‘There must be some good in everyone,’ I added, trying to redeem myself.
Tom bristled and I realised I’d said the wrong thing. He looked me straight in the eye. ‘You take too much notice of church,’ he said harshly. ‘Let me warn you now that it’s dangerous to think like that about him. If you give him any rope he’ll take advantage. Always has and always will. He has a self
ish heart and no pity for others. I can’t think of anything that would change Dudley – not even love. He’s not capable of it.’
He looked embarrassed and I couldn’t help wondering if Tom had been changed by love – love for me?
‘What I’m trying to tell you is that Dudley is a devil. He made my life miserable just for spite. And the thing about Dudley is that it never stopped. I had to always think Dudley. Whatever I did I’d have to take action to avoid him. It dominated my life. I should have given him what for years ago, but I didn’t and that encouraged him. I’m not a coward. I can fight and stand up for myself, but not every day, every hour of every day. Our mother wanted peace in the house, so I spent as much time as I could out with my friends. I tried to avoid him and not rise to any of his taunts. It was hell. I could never relax or enjoy anything because if I did, he would find a way to spoil it.’
I squeezed his hand, trying to encourage him. I felt his suffering.
‘I was so glad when he joined the army. But now he’s back he’s worse than ever. I don’t know what happened to him in the army but he’s become even more unbearable, if that’s possible.’
His eyes filled with pain. ‘I hope you can see why I lost my temper with him so completely when he said he was going to kiss you and . . . and . . . well, all the years I’d suffered at his hands flared into that moment and now I know I’m capable of killing someone. I nearly did kill him and I’m not proud of that. But at least it has finally told him that he must not go near you anymore. He’s stayed away from you, hasn’t he? He’s not bothered you since?’
The Rocking Stone Page 8