The Invisible Cord

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘You went to the hospital?’

  ‘Yes, of course. They put eight stitches in it. They say it’ll save the pad, it was only hanging by a thread.’

  She grimaced and said, ‘I’ve just made some tea. Have you had anything to eat?’

  ‘Not since this morning, I haven’t wanted anything. But there’s half a chicken in the fridge from yesterday.’

  As she set about getting him a meal she asked ‘Where’s Mam?’

  ‘At the cottage. I expected her back before this.’

  ‘How are you managing with the car?’ she asked now.

  ‘I’m not; one of the fellows brought me home.’

  There was no more conversation between them, and after she had buttered some bread and cut up the chicken for him she left the kitchen and, picking up her cases, went upstairs. After unpacking she went into the bathroom and felt the tank. There was plenty of hot water so she decided to have a bath.

  Twenty minutes later she was leaving the bathroom when Rance opened his bedroom door and said, ‘Will you help me change my coat? I can bend the arm but I can’t get my hand through the sleeve, one side’s all right but I’m stuck with the other.’

  Even before she moved towards him she felt the revulsion rise in her, and when he eased his hand into his coat sleeve the feeling inside her was so strong that she admonished herself sternly, saying, ‘He’s your brother; you’re taking animosity too far.’

  ‘Will you knot my tie for me?’ In the same breath he added, ‘Mam should be back by now. What’s keeping her?’

  She kept her eyes away from his face and firmly on the tie as she thought, Yes, Mam would have dressed you. You would have liked that. Oh God! Why was she so bitter against him?

  ‘Will that do?’

  He turned round and looked in the mirror, then said, ‘Fine, thanks.’

  They both turned now as the front doorbell rang, and he smiled and nodded at her, saying, ‘That’s her; she’s forgotten her key.’

  Tishy ran down the stairs and opened the door to see Percy standing there.

  ‘Oh, hello, Percy. I thought it was Mam and she had forgotten her key.’

  ‘Hello, Tishy. You had a good time?’

  ‘Oh…oh yes, Percy, I suppose I can say I had a good time. But give me England; at least if you get watery cabbage you know it’s watery cabbage. But by the same token I hardly spoke to a foreigner, everybody seemed to be English.’

  ‘Well, as I’ve always maintained, Tishy, if you want to meet people you want to get away from, go abroad.’ Percy laughed his thin, piping laugh, and Tishy laughed with him, saying, ‘That’s Irish, but it’s true.’

  ‘It is indeed.’

  Tishy now led the way into the front room. To her mind Percy and kitchens didn’t seem to go together; he was the kind of person who only relaxed in formality, and as Kathy had confessed, she could get him to do most anything but sit down to a meal in his shirt sleeves.

  He turned to her now, saying, ‘Kathy phoned several times this afternoon, she thought Mam would be back. Then she phoned me to say that my mother had called in to take them out to the beach and would I keep phoning in order to make a certain request. Well, I did up till five o’clock, but got no reply.’

  ‘It was just about five when I got in.’

  ‘Well, well.’ He smiled widely at her now. ‘I should have kept to the maxim of try, try, try and try again, shouldn’t I?’

  She made no reply to this but answered his smile, then he said, ‘If Mam doesn’t return in time I wonder—but really I feel it is a bit of an imposition when you haven’t been in the house five minutes to ask you to babysit for us. Mother would do it, but between you and me, Percy junior takes advantage of her and she gives in to him, and I’m afraid she pacifies him with sweeties, and you know—’ he nodded at her now—‘how many children’s teeth have been ruined by a grandmother’s indulgence.’

  ‘Yes, of course, I’d love to, Percy. What time?’

  ‘Well, we’d like to be off at seven. Oh, I do feel it’s an imposition. But the invitation came at short notice, I only received it this morning. It’s to do with a very important client. Well, it isn’t only the client that’s involved, it’s his father also, and his father has come up from Cornwall. Oh, it’s a very involved story. It’s got to do with a trusteeship about which we are acting, and my client said would we like to come to dinner at his hotel in Newcastle this evening at eight. But I do think it’s an…’

  ‘It’s all right, perfectly all right, Percy, I’ll just get into some clothes and be round by seven.’

  ‘You’re sure you’re not too tired?’

  ‘No, not at all.’

  ‘Oh, Kathy will be grateful. You see she expected her mother to be home. And she’d had no word from her; you know, she usually phones when she goes down to the road for milk.’

  ‘She hasn’t heard at all?’

  ‘No, not at all. But she told Kathy before she left that she would be back today. Well, I must be going, but thank you again, Tishy.’

  ‘That’s all right, Percy.’

  As Percy made towards the door, Rance entered the room.

  There was still a feeling of enmity between the two men, but whereas the enmity that existed between Rance and Tishy could lead to open quarrels, Percy refused absolutely to quarrel with his brother-in-law and Rance’s hatred against him had grown more deep if anything because of this. Percy’s coolness and correctness infuriated him, yet now when he wanted to ask a favour of him he could be civil. ‘Are you going back into the town?’ he said.

  ‘I wasn’t, why?…You’ve hurt your hand?’

  ‘Yes, tried to take my thumb off.’

  ‘It must be painful.’

  ‘It isn’t that so much; they numbed it, but it’s sticking out like a sore thumb,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll get used to it in a little while but at the moment it’s stiff.’

  Percy said coolly, ‘You want dropping somewhere?’

  ‘Yes, back to the garage if you wouldn’t mind; I’ve got an appointment there at seven.’

  Percy looked at his watch. ‘I could take you there now if that would be all right? It would mean you’d be early, but I must be in Newcastle by eight.’

  ‘Yes, that’ll be fine.’

  Tishy, knowing that taking Rance to the garage would take another fifteen minutes of Percy’s time, said, ‘Why not phone for a taxi?’

  ‘Oh no; if we go now it’ll be all right. I myself should hate hiring a taxi if I had a number of cars at my disposal.’ With his short quick steps Percy led the way to the front door, saying over his shoulder, ‘And thanks for tonight. We should be leaving about quarter past seven, not later.’

  ‘I’ll be there, Percy.’

  ‘Oh.’ He turned towards her. ‘Shall I come and pick you up?’

  ‘No, you won’t. I can use my feet. You’ll be lucky if you get to Newcastle on time as it is.’

  ‘Just as you say, Tishy. Goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye, Percy.’

  Rance didn’t speak, nor did he turn his head in her direction, and she closed the door before the car started up.

  She was about to mount the stairs again when she heard the hard rapping on the back door. Now who could this be and her in her dressing gown?

  She went through the kitchen and opened the door to see Mr Wilkins standing there, a strange dishevelled Mr Wilkins. But then Mr Wilkins had been going strange for a long time now, ever since Susan ran away, and he had got worse this last six months since he had been made redundant, for it had given him more time to go searching for Susan. He almost knocked her onto her back now as he pushed past her into the kitchen, crying, ‘Where is he? Where is he?’

  ‘Who, Mr Wilkins? Who do you want?’

  ‘You know who I want. Shielding him you’ve been, you and your mother. Shielding him, the lot of you.’

  Without again asking, ‘Who do you mean?’ she knew; but she still said, ‘Who do you mean, Mr Wilkins?’ and he cried at her,
‘Your Rance!’ He now went marching through into the hall yelling, ‘Come down, you bugger you! Come down, you bloody swine, out o’ that!’

  ‘Mr Wilkins! Mr Wilkins! Listen to me, please.’ She caught hold of his arm. ‘He isn’t in.’

  ‘Isn’t in! Don’t you tell me he isn’t in. The missus said she saw him comin’ in.’

  ‘That was some time ago.’

  ‘You can’t hoodwink me.’ He now swung round and burst into the sitting room; from there he went to the dining room, and he was about to go upstairs when she cried at him, ‘He isn’t in, I tell you, Mr Wilkins; he’s gone to the garage.’

  ‘The garage? The garage?’ His head was bobbing as if it would come off his shoulders. ‘I’ll garage him when I get him. By God! I’ll garage him.’

  ‘Mr Wilkins, please, please.’ She again caught hold of his arm. ‘Try to calm down. Tell me, what is it?’

  ‘What is it? Why ask the road you know? You’ve known all along what it is. It’s my Susan. But I’ve got her back and she’s told me everything. It was him that started her on it, an’ not her alone. You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to the polis. You know what pushers get. My God Almighty! How many bairns has he ruined …?’

  The truth was out at last. It had been staring them in the face for years. In her heart she had known all along what it was, but her mother had pulled a shield over her eyes with the betting slip.

  As he now stormed back into the kitchen and towards the door she cried at him, ‘Wait! Wait till my mother comes in, Mr Wilkins, please…Please!’

  ‘Wait for your mother?’ He turned on her. ‘No, by God! an’ let her shield him again? She’d shield him with her life. Yet when she sees what he’s done to my poor Susan I…I don’t know. A wreck she is, a wreck. But she’s home. In Doncaster I found her. Mrs Nesbitt who used to live in 42, they moved there, and she phoned John Pollock down below and told him she knew where Susan was. An’ John run me through yesterday. We’ve just got back, just got back this minute, an’ I’ll not rest, I’ve sworn I’ll not rest or eat, until that brother of yours gets his deserts.’

  ‘Please! Please, Mr Wilkins.’ She was running down the yard after him now, but like someone demented he tore away from her.

  From the back gate, with her hand pressed tightly against her mouth, she watched him. He did not go into his backyard but ran to where a car was parked at the end of the lane. It wasn’t his car; he had sold his when he lost his job; it was Mr Pollock’s old red banger.

  Oh my God! She was back in the kitchen, her two hands covering her cheeks now. A pusher. Drug takers were victims, but pushers were creatures, vermin who, solely in order to make money, ruined thousands of young lives. They were the most…She rocked from side to side and shook her head; she could find no words adequate enough to describe such people, and her brother was one of them.

  Her mam. Oh! She dropped down onto a chair. This would break her. It would kill her. It wasn’t so much the public disgrace that would affect her but the fact, as Mr Wilkins had said, that her son had ruined the lives of young girls. And how many? Yes, how many? All that money in the top of the Scotch chest; and that had been three years ago.

  She got up now and began to pace the room. What should she do? Mr Wilkins would have likely gone straight to the garage. There would be a fight, and by the look of Mr Wilkins there could be murder. The garage was closed. There’d only be Rance in it and whoever he was going to meet. But she wasn’t going to worry about Rance, let him take his chance. It was her mother she was worrying about. Mr Wilkins would be as good as his word; he’d go straight to the police and they moved quickly in such cases. If only her mother were here and she could break it to her.

  She must get dressed. She ran upstairs and scrambled into her clothes; then, downstairs again, she stood undecided what to do. Her mother might turn up any minute and if she wasn’t here and the police came…She’d better phone Kathy. No. No, there was no need to tell Kathy or Percy tonight for they had this important dinner on, and if they were to go she must get round there. She looked at the clock. It was quarter to seven. She’d stay till seven. She could phone a taxi for then.

  At five to seven Kathy rang. ‘Oh hello, Tishy,’ she said. ‘You’re back all right then? Did you have a good time? Is Percy there?’

  ‘No; he was here, but he should be home by now. He was running our Rance to the garage. He’s hurt his hand, Rance, I mean.’

  ‘Oh Lord!’ Kathy’s tone expressed her impatience. ‘He’s cutting it fine. Is Mam back?’

  ‘No. I’m wondering what’s keeping her. I understand she was coming back this afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, so she told me, at least she said sometime on Friday. She’ll turn up before dark; she hates driving in the dark…Oh! Wait till he comes in, I’ll give him the length of my tongue…By the way is anything the matter, you sound funny?’

  ‘…No. No. Nothing the matter…and Kathy, don’t go for Percy, it wasn’t his fault. Our…our Rance should have taken a taxi. I said so.’

  ‘The garage closes at six, why did he want to go back there?’

  ‘He had to meet someone, I don’t know who, I didn’t ask, you know me. By he way, I’ve ordered a car to bring me around about seven; in fact, it should be here any minute now.’

  ‘All right, Tishy. Thanks for sitting in at such short notice.’

  ‘That’s all right. Be seeing you.’

  ‘Be seeing you.’

  Tishy stood by the table for a moment and drew in a number of deep breaths before she went into the kitchen and wrote a note to Annie telling her she was babysitting at Kathy’s, and to ring her up as soon as she came in. She ended by saying, ‘It is important that you ring me immediately, Mam. There is something you should know.’ She underlined the last words.

  The taxi came at seven, and seven minutes later she was entering Kathy’s house.

  Kathy, dressed in a green velvet semi-evening dress and looking more beautiful than she had done in her single state, came to meet her, saying, ‘I can’t understand it. It’s nearly ten past, and we should be leaving at quarter past.’

  ‘Ring the garage,’ said Tishy quietly.

  Kathy rang the garage, but there was no reply.

  ‘Ring the office,’ said Tishy now. ‘He may have gone back for some reason or other.’

  Kathy rang the office, and there was no reply.

  When a whimpering sound came from upstairs Kathy said, ‘No, don’t go up, he’ll just keep you at it. He’ll go off in a little while, he’s dog-tired. He was in the water all afternoon.’

  They were sitting looking at each other when the clock struck half-past seven. ‘Something’s happened,’ Kathy exclaimed, jumping up, ‘I know it has, he would have been back else. This is important; this dinner, it’s very important.’

  ‘Look, don’t get all het up. But there’s one thing certain, you won’t get there by eight o’clock. Do you know where you were going?’

  ‘To The Royal Station Hotel.’

  ‘Well, phone them and leave a message. Say your husband’s been delayed; he’ll ring later as to what time he’ll arrive.’

  Kathy made the necessary call and she had just replaced the receiver when she said, ‘I’m going to phone the police; there…there could have been an accident.’

  ‘If there had been an accident you would have heard before now.’ Tishy felt sick. If only her mother were here. ‘Wait,’ she said; ‘I’ll phone home again.’

  When there was no reply to the ringing Kathy said, ‘I’m not waiting any longer, Tishy, I’m going to phone the police.’

  Kathy spoke to a policeman, who put her through to another policeman. He sounded very calm. No, he said; there hadn’t been a report of an accident during the last three hours.

  ‘I’ll go to the garage,’ said Tishy, ‘but I’ll have to go home first to get the keys.’

  It was ten minutes before a taxi came to take her home. On the journey she prayed that her mother would be in, but t
he house was as she had left it. She picked up the keys, returned to the taxi, then later dismissed it in King Street. Whatever she was going to find in the garage she didn’t want the taxi man in on it.

  She was trembling as she opened the main door. She had to switch on the lights because it was dark inside. She walked slowly past the office, then round by the pit. There was a car above the pit, and she glanced underneath. Looking along to the end of the garage she saw that the doors were partly open. When she looked out into the lane, there was no car parked there. She closed the doors and bolted them, then as she returned up the garage she saw, in the far corner, Rance’s own car. She went towards it and looked inside. Then she stood gazing about her. She couldn’t understand it. Had he persuaded Percy to take him off somewhere? No, Percy wasn’t the kind of man to be persuaded. Behind Percy’s correct exterior and pedantic manner there was a will as strong as iron; his courtship of Kathy had been but small evidence of it.

  She looked at Rance’s car again. If she had the key she could drive it. There was no key in the ignition but she knew where the spare one was hidden. It was her mother who had insisted on putting a spare key under her car after she had locked herself out once, and she had suggested that Rance do the same.

  She pulled the sticky tape off the key, then opened again the back doors that she had recently bolted. She backed the car into the lane, and left it there while she returned into the garage, rebolted the doors, hurried out through the front gates, locking them after her, then ran into the back lane again. If there had been anyone about, her actions might have been questioned, but she saw no-one.

  Driving the car out of the lane, she turned it in the opposite direction to that by which she had approached the garage. This way she would avoid the main road. But she hadn’t travelled more than fifty feet when she drew the car to an abrupt stop, for there, parked in a line of cars, was Mr Pollock’s car, the one she had seen at the end of the lane, the one Mr Wilkins had taken. She couldn’t mistake it, it was red and a botched-up affair with dabs of grey rust preventative here and there along the bottom of the doors.