The Invisible Cord

by Catherine Cookson

  Annie moved her head slowly as she kept rubbing the tears of laughter from her face and she thought it was funny how life worked out. She had always regretted letting herself be persuaded to go to the Baileys that Christmas, yet if she hadn’t gone this man, because he was a man, he wasn’t just a youth he was a man, wouldn’t be sitting at her kitchen table now laughing into her daughter’s face, and she into his, the daughter for whom she’d had no hope. Oh, it was wonderful how things worked out.

  Tishy, still laughing, was on the point of saying something when the clatter of a bucket rolling, followed immediately by a spate of cursing, came from the backyard. Putting her hand to her mouth, she looked at Alan and said, ‘Now you’ll see something I bet you’ve never seen before, and hear something too. That’s Gran McCabe. What a pity Gran Cooper isn’t here. Boy, you’d know what entertainment was then. Arsenic and old lace …!’

  ‘Tishy, be quiet! That’s enough now.’ Annie spoke harshly as she pulled open the kitchen door and called, ‘You all right, Mollie?’

  ‘All right? Do you leave that bloody bucket and shovel stickin’ out there on purpose? The times I’ve split me shins against it.’

  Mollie limped over the threshold. Then, her mouth half-open, she gaped at the man standing at the opposite side of the table, and, glancing quickly from him to Annie, she said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, lass; I didn’t know you had company.’

  ‘Get yourself in.’ Annie pushed her; then closed the door before saying ‘This is Arthur’s nephew. You remember Arthur?’

  ‘Course I remember Arthur, I’m not in me dotage. Hello, lad.’ Mollie extended her hand.

  ‘Hello. How are you?’

  ‘Almost bloody well legless if you ask me.’ Mollie sat down now and began to rub her shins. ‘There hasn’t been a time in the last ten years when I’ve come in that yard but somebody’s set a trap for me. An’ what you laughing at, miss?’

  ‘At you being legless, Gran.’

  Mollie stared at her granddaughter for a moment as if she, too, were noticing some difference in her. But as usual she said what came foremost to her mind, and this was, ‘You’ve got a cold on you again, I see.’

  ‘Yes, Gran.’ Tishy’s voice was flat now. ‘Don’t let me forget it.’

  ‘What you cooking at this time of night for?’ Mollie now turned to Annie, and Annie replied, ‘I’m not cooking, I’m just knocking up something for the supper. Bacon and egg pie and a batter pudding. You going to stay for a bite?’

  ‘Not just for bacon an’ egg pie. Is that all you’ve got?’

  ‘Well, there’s cold meat, cold ham, or a leg of raw pork in the fridge, help yourself.’

  ‘Poor meat house.’ Mollie leant across the table towards Alan who was staring at her fixedly. ‘Mingy on the grub.’ She winked as she finished, and he, falling in with her mood, nodded solemnly and replied, ‘I thought as much.’

  He continued to stare at the old, fat, flamboyantly dressed woman, who he guessed was Georgie’s mother. She looked a character. He watched Annie now put a hand on her shoulder and, bending forward, say, ‘Well, you’ll stay for a cup of tea?’ Annie was nice to the old girl, not a bit ashamed of her, as many would have been, for she not only sounded but also looked a type. He had come across some different types in the few days he had spent in this northern and foreign quarter of the country, and not only among the working class, yet he found them all refreshing, it was as if he had come into a new world. On reflection, he didn’t think he could be more interested in, or more amused, or entertained by people if he had gone as far as Australia. These people were different, a class on their own, although he had already learnt that they were sharply divided into top, middle and bottom, much more so than back home. There was a snobbery here that he hadn’t met with before.

  ‘What did you say your name was, lad?’

  ‘Alan.’

  ‘Oh, Alan. Well, Alan, what do you think of the north?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘You’d better watch it, miss.’ Mollie was wagging her finger at Tishy. ‘An’ let him speak for himsel’.’ She now leant across the table towards Alan, saying, ‘Best place on earth, lad. We’re one big family in this neck-o’-the-woods. But mind, just like any family, there’s good, bad an’ indifferent in it, an’ if I had me way I’d put half of them in sanitary confinement…sanitary confinement.’ Her laughter gushed out. ‘But you know what I mean? There’s one or two saints, a few sinners, but the majority are buggers. Just like any family. You know some folk think there’s only three good people in the world, themsels’, the Pope, an’ God, an’ he’s a bit of an also-ran these days; I’m sorry for the poor bugger.’

  ‘Oh, Mollie! Mollie!’

  As the laughter filled the house Mollie got to her feet, adding, ‘And here’s another bugger off home. Goodnight, lad.’ She held out her hand and he, already on his feet, took it and shook it warmly. His mouth was wide and his eyes wet, and when he said, ‘I hope we meet again,’ Mollie turned to Tishy and, digging her in the shoulder with her finger, said, ‘There, what do you think of that? He sounded as if he meant it an’ all; I’m not past it yet.’ And on this she went to go out of the back door, but Annie taking her by the arm, led her firmly round the table, saying, ‘The bucket and shovel’s still there and I don’t know why on earth you’ve got to use the back door every time.’

  ‘’Cos I’m on me way to our Winnie’s and it’s a short cut.’

  When they stood at the front door Annie said, ‘Are you on your way to Winnie’s?’

  ‘Aye, I was goin’ along there but I thought I’d drop in an’ tell you I’ve just left our Georgie; he was in the bar of the Wheelbarrow shortly after opening time. I had just popped into the snug an’ I caught sight of him, an’ during the time it took me to down a gin he had knocked back two doubles, and likewise the fellow that was with him an’ all, there was no standin’ of turns, he paid for both lots. I thought if that’s the pace he’s goin’ and early on in the evenin’ he’ll have to be carried back home the night, so I asked Phil to tip him the wink and tell him I wanted a word with him outside. And you know what?’ She laughed now and pushed at Annie with the flat of her hand. ‘When he came out he said straight away, “What the hell do you want? You know, Ma, I left school last week.” That’s our Georgie. Well I just said I wanted a word with him, I hadn’t seen him for the past two weeks or so, an’ I asked him who his friend was as I hadn’t seen him around either, an’ he must have been of some importance to have two doubles stood him. He said it was business; he said he had the fellow interested in a car, a new one, and the bloke was going to trade his in. An’ what do you think?’ Again she pushed at Annie but, her look aggressive now, she said, ‘The bloke had won a packet on the pools only last week, but there was our bloody daft Georgie doin’ the payin’. Anyway—’ her voice dropped—‘I told him to get himself around home while he could walk, but the answer I got, lass, made me think that you won’t see him for some time. An’ then you know what to expect when you do. So I just thought I’d drop in and warn you in case you were sittin’ waiting to go out. You’ve had some of that afore.’

  ‘Thanks, Mollie, it was good of you. And you’re right, I was expecting to go out; I thought he’d be home early and we’d go to the club.’

  Mollie walked carefully down the two steps onto the pathway and there she turned and said, ‘As things are in the kitchen I hope he doesn’t show up for a bit. An’ I’d get rid of that nice young fellow afore he comes in if I was you.’ Then, her voice rising, she ended on a laugh, ‘I should think he’s had enough of nature in the raw when he’s seen me. What do you say, lass?’

  What Annie said was, ‘Oh! Mollie,’ and her tone was full of deep affection. ‘If he meets no worse than you through life he won’t do so bad. By, he won’t!’

  ‘I wish everybody thought like you, lass. I shouldn’t tell you this but I can’t help it. I saw your mother in the market yesterday an’ she cut me dead. She looked through me like a
pane of glass. Not that it bothered me mind, for if she had spoken to me every word would have been like a pin in me skin. But it made me think of what me own mam used to say. “Always treat women as snakes,” she said, “until they open their mouths, and then you can hear if they’ve had their fangs removed.” Goodnight, lass.’ Then her voice quiet, she said, ‘Did I ever tell you you were canny?’

  When Annie closed the door she said again to herself, ‘Oh, Mollie,’ then, ‘Oh, me mam! If it wasn’t that her mother was under the weather these days she’d go along there and tell her something.’

  She stood looking down the hall now towards the kitchen door while thinking, She’s right, I’d better get rid of him and soon, within the next hour anyway.

  A few minutes later she was saying, ‘I hope you don’t mind eating in the kitchen, it’s warmer in here than the dining room.’

  ‘Aw, Mam—’ Tishy made a face at Annie—‘stop putting it on.’ Then she turned to Alan. ‘Christmas Day, birthdays and funerals, that’s when we use the dining room.’

  Annie swung the cloth over the table; then putting her two hands flat on it, she lowered her head and said, ‘See what I’m up against.’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Alan nodded, his smile broad. ‘Handicapped on all sides; I’m terribly sorry for you.’

  ‘You look it.’

  As she set the table she thought it was odd she could banter with this stranger. She glanced at him now where he was sitting side by side with Tishy looking at the old book and laughing over the quotations. He was nice, so nice he could be one of the family. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he took up with Tishy, and at the same time made friends with Rance. Of course Rance was younger, but a man like this would have a steadying influence on him. And Rance hadn’t a real friend, not that she knew of. What was that saying, ‘God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform.’ Yes, and every word of that was true. God did move in a mysterious way. She must get herself to Mass. She had been sliding of late, and sliding was putting it mildly. Her Easter duties, that’s all she had gone to for some years now, but if God took in hand the destiny of her two children about whom she worried most, then there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Him. She’d promise Him she’d be at his altar rails every Sunday morning, rain, hail or shine …

  ‘There, sit up, and I’m not going to apologise for it because if I do, that one—’ she jerked her finger towards Tishy as she addressed herself to Alan—‘she’ll say “Why, it’s a banquet to what she usually gives us!”’

  Before sitting down she went into the hall and called up the stairs, ‘Rance! Are you coming? I’ve got your tea out,’ and his muffled reply came back from the bathroom, ‘I can’t get down for a minute or so, put it in the oven.’

  Ten minutes later when Alan had finished a second helping of the bacon and egg pie and pronounced it simply first-rate, she was saying, ‘Our Rance must be giving himself a beauty treatment,’ when the sound of a car door being slammed turned her eyes sharply in the direction of the hall and almost as the same time as Tishy exclaimed, ‘That must be Dad,’ the front door opened and banged with a resounding clash and Georgie’s voice rang through the house, crying, ‘Where is he? Where are you, you bloody thieving snipe?’

  ‘Georgie! Georgie!’ Annie had rushed into the hall and, catching at his arm, she gabbled, ‘Be quiet! There’s…there’s someone here. Look, listen.’

  ‘Do you know what he’s bloody well done, that weak-kneed golden boy of yours? Do you know what he’s done? Now you’ll have to believe this ’cos it’s starin’ you in the face, at least it bloody well stared me in the face when I opened the garage door…A stolen car and two bloody tykes working on it. The buggers were actually spraying it, new number plate, the lot, a Morris 1100; I tell you, they were in wor garage…’

  ‘Georgie! Georgie! Listen, be quiet!’

  ‘No! You bloody well listen, for once in your life you listen to me, and not him. I had to choke it out of the buggers, but choke it I did. He’s in this racket up to the neck, running it, running it, and underneath me bloody nose. You know what this could mean? The polis, jail.’

  As he made for the stairs she held on to him, crying, ‘Georgie! Listen, listen.’

  ‘I’ve listened to you long enough where he’s concerned. Leave go of me!’ When he thrust her from him she staggered back and fell against Tishy, and they both would have fallen if Alan hadn’t thrust out his arm and steadied them. But once Annie had regained her balance she ran towards the stairs again. She didn’t mount them however, for Georgie had stopped halfway up, and there above him on the landing was Rance. For some seconds they both stood looking at each other. Then Georgie spoke, and what terrified Annie now was the quietness of his tone as he said, ‘You had it all planned, hadn’t you? The old boy never goes back once he leaves the garage on a Saturday night. Had enough, he’s always said, hasn’t he? Everythin’ would be clear until the Monday mornin’. But tonight I got a customer, bit of a bonus, and I go back to me garage, my garage, out of which I’ve kicked the arse of more than one whose asked me to join in a fiddle. Come to the wrong shop, mate, I’ve said. Out, at the double, if you know what’s good for you. Honest Georgie, that’s me.’ Now his voice almost rose to a scream as he ended, ‘And the fiddle was bein’ played under me bloody nose an’ by me own son!’

  When he leapt up the remaining stairs Annie screamed and as she went to run after him Alan gripped her firmly, saying, ‘No, no, stay where you are.’

  ‘Let me be! Let me be! Let me go!’ She was twisting and turning in his hold; and now Tishy was crying, ‘Stay out of it, Mam! Stay out of it!’

  For a moment she stopped her struggling and gazed upwards, as they all did, towards Rance, whose crouched body had taken on the appearance of a wrestler looking for an opening, and his words came in a growl from his throat as he faced his father. ‘Your garage. Your house. Your bloody this, an’ your bloody that. Everything’s yours, or so you’d make people think. But you own nowt. Do you hear? Nowt, because you haven’t got an atom of brain in your thick skull; the only thing you’ve got is a big mouth. Everything you have right from the beginning you owe to me mam; if it wasn’t for her you’d be scavengin’.’

  It happened, seemingly, in the blink of an eyelid. One second Georgie was standing on the stairs, the next he was on the landing, his arm drawn back, his fist doubled. But the blow never reached its objective, for Rance’s foot came up and caught him in the groin, and like a stick being snapped in two and with the sound of the crack escaping his lips, Georgie’s body doubled and fell backwards.

  Annie’s and Tishy’s screams did not die away even when Georgie lay in a twisted heap at the foot of the stairs; not until Annie dropped on her knees beside him and she tried to straighten him out did her yelling fade into a moan.

  ‘Be careful, I wouldn’t touch him. You’d best get a doctor.’

  She took no heed to the low trembling voice at her side, but continued to tug at Georgie’s legs. Yet when she felt herself being lifted from the floor she didn’t struggle.

  Alan now turned to Tishy, who was staring up at Rance, where he was leaning over the banister, his hands hanging slack and his eyes staring out of a chalk-white face. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘take care of her for a moment.’ He had to push Tishy on the shoulder before she turned to her mother; then he knelt on the floor by Georgie’s side and slowly he laid his ear against his chest, and kept it there for a full minute.

  When he stood up they were both looking at him and he made a small movement with his head, and on this Annie yelled, ‘No! No!’ and pulling herself from Tishy’s hold she dropped to the floor again and, gripping the lapels of Georgie’s coat, she looked down onto his still face, and again she cried, ‘No! No!’ Then ‘Aw, Georgie! Georgie! Don’t go. Aw, don’t go…Oh my God! My God!’ She now turned her head and looked up at Alan. ‘He…he can’t be. Say he can’t be.’

  ‘You’d better call the doctor.’ Alan now wiped the sweat from around his mouth with his
fingers.

  ‘Oh God alive!’ She put her hand out and tentatively stroked each side of Georgie’s face; then her body jerked at the sound of Tishy’s voice crying, ‘You’ve done it! You’ve done it at last, haven’t you? You always wanted to do it. You’ve murdered him. You dirty rotten, stinking swine you! You’ve murdered him. When they put you in jail for life I’ll cheer. Do you hear? I’ll cheer.’

  ‘Stop it! Stop it, Tishy!’ Scrambling to her feet, Annie pulled Tishy from the foot of the stairs, and Tishy, staring at her through tear-blinded eyes, cried, ‘You won’t be able to save him this time, will you?’

  ‘What are you saying, girl? Don’t be silly.’ Annie was shaking her.

  ‘Don’t, Mam, don’t!’ Tishy pulled herself away from Annie’s grasp, ‘I’m saying he murdered me dad, that’s what I’m saying, and you can’t get him out of that.’

  Annie’s lower jaw moved twice before she looked up to where Rance was still hanging over the banisters. Then returning her gaze to her daughter she said under her breath, ‘It…it was an accident. You know it was an accident.’

  ‘Accident? Oh no, you won’t get him off with that, Mam. He lifted his foot, he kicked dad down.’

  ‘They were fighting; it was…’

  ‘No! No!’

  Annie turned to Alan and she moved her head from side to side in bewilderment for a moment before she muttered, ‘Look…look, after her, will you? Take her into the front room.’

  ‘Hadn’t you better phone the doctor?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Annie now put her hand tightly over her mouth. ‘I’ll…I’ll do it in a minute, but…but take Tishy away, will you?’

  She watched him go towards Tishy and put his arm around her shoulder and forcibly lead her into the front room. Then holding her head in her hands, she stood looking down at Georgie and all her mind kept saying was, Oh my God!

  It was a full minute later when she slowly mounted the stairs, and, lifting Rance from the banisters, she supported him as they went towards his room. Having pushed him down into a chair she slapped his cheek sharply with her hand, saying, ‘Rance! Rance! Look at me. Listen.’