‘Yes’—I nodded at him—‘and the explosion would take everybody down with me. Don’t be silly…put me in a pub! George, it’s no good; you don’t have to keep anything up with me. I know exactly what I am. I accepted it years ago. People around here think I’m lucky to be married. I don’t agree with them on that point, but I know that’s the local opinion, and would be a general opinion too, so stop waffling about me and making believe I’m the ugly duckling looking down in the water and imagining she sees a swan, only to find when she lifts her head she’s in the middle of a nervous breakdown.’
At this point we both started to laugh, and he came round the table and caught hold of me and we rocked together; and as I felt the strong nearness of him and smelt the mixture of sweat and tobacco and maleness, my tears almost stopped being tears of laughter.
Oh, if I could have only married someone like George. All right, he might have gone after other women, seeking a little excitement, but one thing I felt sure of, if he had been mine he would have come back to me; his heart was too kind to leave anybody lonely for long. I gazed up at him now and said softly, ‘I wish I was one of those four children.’
‘Aw, Maisie, fancy saying a thing like that.’ I saw his Adam’s apple jerk up and down; then he turned away from me, saying, ‘How’s the business going? Ma tells me you’re doin’ fine.’
‘Oh, I get plenty of bits and pieces, but I get bored typing them. I’ve had nothing interesting since I typed a novel for a woman, but that’s nearly a year ago.’
When he walked into the hall, I knew he was going, and I said, ‘How long are you here for?’
‘Just overnight. I’ll be away early in the mornin’. But I promised Ma to come back at least once a month.’
‘That’s good. She misses you; she gets very lonely.’
‘Aye,’ he nodded, ‘so she told me. She didn’t half rub it in. But as I said, I’m a big lad now.’ He put his hands out and laid them on my shoulders and he said softly, ‘Life’s funny, Maisie, crazy, barmy, bloody hell one minute, bloody heaven the next, but all the time, barmy. Have you ever asked yourself why we’re here? I have. Lately I have. It never used to trouble me at one time, but I woke up the other night and I thought, Georgie lad, here you are lying aside somebody else’s missis an’ workin’ for his four bairns an’ who’s to know that he doesn’t come back through that door some day and try to knock your bloody head off.’
Once again we were leaning against each other. Then all of a sudden, he pushed me away and with an abrupt, ‘Be seeing you, lass,’ he went hurriedly out, leaving me staring through the open door at him. He didn’t even turn at the gate and wave. When I closed the front door, I stood with my back to it and my head bowed, and I cried for there went the man I loved. Always had, and always would.
Four
It was 1973 and, strangely, I look back to that year as a time I realised I took very little interest in outside affairs; the state of the country, the state of the world passed me by. I didn’t get a daily newspaper, but I listened to the radio. Yet, good, bad, or indifferent, it made very little impression on me. My life seemed to be taken up with looking after Bill, doing the typing and cleaning the house, yet I know now that, threading all this and the thing that blotted out the concerns of the outside world, was my fear of Howard. At times I might stand up to him, but most of the time I avoided him so that there would be no conflict. Yet, I saw very little of him. I cooked his breakfast in the morning, but left him to eat it alone while I got on with other things. I found I couldn’t sit at the table with him. Now that he had his main meal out at dinner time, there was only the evening one to see to, and this I left ready for him and had my own on a tray in the study.
Weekends were the best because he often now left home on a Friday night. Sometimes he returned on a Sunday evening, but very often I didn’t see him until the Monday evening. Even when he went to stay with Mr Hempies, he must have spent some time with his bottle hunting, because often he would bring a bagful back and they would be all clean and ready for the shelves; at least I presumed so because he would take them straight upstairs; those bottles the children gathered for him he cleaned thoroughly in the kitchen sink.
As time went on I blessed Mr Hempies, at the same time wondering what kind of a man he must be to take such a liking for Howard. He must be old and very lonely I imagined. And also what idea he had of Howard’s wife, the woman that never went anywhere with her husband.
If the neighbours knew that he was never at home at the weekends, I’m sure they weren’t surprised, because when he had lived with May, he spent most of Saturday and Sunday bottle hunting; in fact, the children called him ‘the bottle man’.
The two years’ grace I had demanded in payment for the money I had given him had passed, and he had made no move towards me. Just in case, I kept my bedroom door locked.
Then one night I knew the time had come again. It started in the kitchen. I had left his tea ready. I had mashed the tea and was about to leave the kitchen when he came in and stood behind his chair, looking down at the table. I thought he was about to find fault with the meal, but he said, ‘Sit down. I want to talk to you.’
I didn’t sit down, I just stood and looked at him; then he said, ‘Well, please yourself,’ and he sat down.
‘We’ve been getting on pretty well together lately, haven’t we, not treading on each other’s toes?’ he said.
I made no response, and he went on, ‘And that’s the way it should be, and could be. Well, I’ll come to the point; it’s no good beating around the bush with you, I know that. It’s just this. I don’t think it’s fitting that a man in my position should take the bus to work every morning, nor have to go by bus and train to…to Durham and Mr Hempies’. Everybody else who goes there has a car.’
I put my head on one side and said, ‘Everybody? I thought he was a lonely old man and that you were his sole companion.’
‘I don’t know where you got that idea. Of course, he’s an old man, and he hasn’t got any family. I mean…well, any close family, except a nephew. But he has lots of callers at times, and friends…well, they come and stay, like me. He looks upon me, I can say, more like a son. So what I need at the moment is about two hundred pounds. I’ve seen a car. It’s second-hand, and I’d like to have it. I’ve been taking driving lessons.’
When I still didn’t make any response, he said, ‘Well?’
Then I spoke. ‘If Mr Hempies looks upon you as a son, then why doesn’t he buy you a car?’
As he got to his feet the fear corkscrewed within me, then seemed to lodge in my throat as he glared at me, his face working.
‘I’m trying to keep things on an even keel, but you don’t want it, do you? Now, you’ve got that money stacked away and you don’t spend it on yourself. What do you think you’re going to do with it?’
‘I could buy a car and I could take lessons.’
Why did I say such things? Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut? I was making things worse.
‘Yes, you could; then we would both have cars.’
‘I can’t ask Gran for any more.’
‘You’re not asking Gran for anything. Don’t try to hoodwink me. Anyway, think about it, but don’t waste too much time over it.’
I turned from him and made for the door, and when I reached it his words stopped me as he said, ‘And as for locking your door, if I wanted to get in I could, I’ve had extra keys made. I think ahead, you see. I said, if I wanted to get in, but I don’t, at least not unless you force my hand. As I’ve said before, there’s more ways of killing a cat than drowning it. And there’s always Bill, isn’t there? Bill.’
Bill was standing at my side now waiting for the door to be opened to leave with me, and as if the animal knew what Howard meant it turned its head and gave a low growl. And I think this rather staggered Howard for he stared at Bill somewhat in surprise. As I opened the door I said, ‘I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again, if you touch that dog it will be t
he last thing you’ll ever do.’ And now, what frightened me more than anything else was, I knew that I meant what I said, and the consequences made me feel so sick that I could have vomited there and then.
In the study, Bill lay close to my feet and when I put my hand down on his bony head and stroked it, he turned and licked my arm, and his small round eyes seemed to send a message of love to me. The next minute, I found myself on the floor, my arms about him, rocking him as if he really were a child. And in a way he was, he was my child …
It was difficult to see Gran these days unless I went in the morning. But I seemed to be able to get through the typing better in the mornings. In the afternoons, she was either playing bingo or she was at one of the numerous clubs round about. It was the same in the evening. As she said to me, and so often, ‘Lass, I can’t abide in the house, not since our Georgie went, ’cos there’s nothin’ to stay in for.’
But on this occasion, accompanied by Bill, I went to her the next morning early, although I knew what she would say, before I got there.
‘Lass, you’re mad. You give in to him like this an’ he’ll have every penny off you. Look, go to that solicitor’s and tell him what’s happenin’.’
‘I can’t, Gran.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, I just can’t. I’d have to tell him everything, and there’s some things I can’t talk about. How could I, to a strange man? And anyway, being a man, he would likely say, he’s your husband.’
‘What about the doctor?’
‘Oh, him! I’m always telling him one thing or another. He must be sick of the sight of me. And I can’t say that I look forward to seeing him either.’
Gran now went into the kitchen to make the inevitable cup of tea, and from there she shouted, ‘Something should be done with that fellow. And it worries me at times, ’cos I don’t know what’s gona be the end of it.’
When she came back with the tea, she said, ‘Stall. Aye, that’s what to do, stall. Tell him I’m away on me holidays and, of course, I’ve got the cheque book. An’ that’s that.’
I smiled at her. ‘That’s an idea,’ I said. ‘But he’ll have it in the end.’
‘Well, stop him, you silly little bitch, an’ go and blow the lot. Go on a world cruise, or something like that.’
‘What! By myself?’ I laughed.
‘No, I’ll come along wi’ you.’
‘I believe you would an’ all.’
Gran threw back her head now and laughed; then on a more serious note she said, ‘You never spend anything on yourself, do you? Just look at you. When is the last time you had a new rag? Or your hair done properly? Or went to one of them beauty parlours?’
‘Oh, Gran.’ I felt sharply annoyed now, and she came back at me, yelling at the top of her voice, ‘Yes, you can say, oh Gran, like that, but needs must when the devil drives, they say. And you could do somethin’ with your face. I know I’m speaking with me mouth wide open and there’s not a kind word coming out of it, but its the truth: you needn’t look as plain-faced as you do. You never wear a bit of lipstick or a bit of colour. There’s a place round Brampton Hill way that transforms people. Why, even old ‘uns like me do up. There’s a Mrs Maddison comes to the club every now an’ then an’ shows us how.’ And at this, she kissed me.
I sighed deeply; then said slowly, ‘Gran, I’ve got no desire to change. I know myself as I am and I live with myself.’
‘Aw, lass.’ She dropped down on the couch beside me, and, taking my hand, she said, ‘I wish I could do something for you. You’ve had a rotten deal all along.’
I said, ‘You do do something for me, just being you, Gran.’
At teatime that evening I spoke first. I said, ‘With regard to the money, I’m sorry, even if I would consent to give it to you, I can’t, Gran’s gone on holiday. She’s gone down to George’s in Devon. I don’t know when she’ll be back.’
He stared at me for a long moment, then said, ‘Is that so?’ And I said, ‘Yes, that’s so,’ before walking out with my knees almost knocking together.
About half an hour later he came downstairs ready to play tennis. He was wearing white shorts, a white shirt, and a light grey coat.
I saw him go into the kitchen. He usually left by the front door. I went into the sitting room and waited to hear him leave. But after ten minutes or so had elapsed and there had been no sound of the door closing, I imagined he had left by the back door.
Remembering that Bill was in the kitchen and that Howard could have left the back door and the back gate open, accidentally on purpose, I hurried out of the sitting room, across the hall, and pushed open the kitchen door; then I let out a high-powered scream of pain as the tennis racket swished to both sides of me. As I staggered back against the dresser, Bill sprang from his basket, his teeth bared, and stood in front of me, growling at Howard who appeared greatly contrite, saying, ‘I’m sorry. I…I was just practising my strokes. I…I didn’t expect the door to open.’
I knew he was standing some distance from me, not daring to move because of the dog. I had my hands cupping my breasts; the double swish of the racket had caught both of them. I felt I was going to faint as everything swam round me. Then his voice penetrated my shaken senses, saying, ‘Call him off. I want to get out. Maisie, do you hear? Call him off!’ As I opened my eyes, he said, ‘It was an accident. I didn’t expect you to come barging in like that. Call him off, the dog.’
I followed his nodding head and looked down on Bill, who was braced as if ready to spring. Slowly, I leant over and caught him by the collar, and the very fact of bending nearly brought me tumbling to the floor. Holding Bill with one hand, I groped with my short arm for a chair and sat down, while Howard, now opening the kitchen door into the hall, repeated, ‘It was an accident. How was I to know you were coming in.’
Like hell it was! I heard Hamilton’s voice as if from a far distance.
I felt sick. My breasts were never big, but they were shapely. Strangely, my body had grown very shapely: I had a thirty-two bust and a twenty-six waist and a thirty-six hip measurement. Now my breasts were paining as if they’d been punched, which indeed they had. He had caught one with the inside of the racket and the other with the outside as if he were changing from forward drive to backhand. Practising!
Practising. He had been waiting for me. He had likely been aiming for my face, but I’d put my arms up swiftly to protect myself, and my breasts had caught the blows. What kind of a man was he, anyway? A dangerous one. Oh yes, a mean dangerous one. A weakness in me said now, Let him have it all, every penny, and then he’ll no more need to get at you.
Bill was at my side, his head pressed tight against my knees. And Hamilton was standing by the end of the table, his long face drooped towards me. That money is your only protection, he was saying. Without it, it could be your life next, with a man like that. Oh yes, you can shake your head, but after he’s got all you’ve got money-wise, he’ll start on the house and what’s in it. And you’ll be lucky if you escape. Stranger things have happened, and to stronger people than you.
After a while, I went upstairs and took a hot bath, and the pain eased somewhat. Then later, when I went to bed, I not only locked the door but stuck the back of a strong chair beneath the handle …
I put up with the pain for three days; then I went to Gran’s to leave Bill with her while I went to the doctor’s again. And all she could say on my relating the story of the tennis practice was, ‘My God, lass, what next? What next?’
Reaching the waiting room I found myself sitting next to the ‘You here again?’ woman; and that’s what she said immediately to me, ‘You here again…nerves?’ She nodded. ‘Your eyelid’s at it. Well, you’re lucky, in a way, because you can get over nerves, if you pull yourself together.’
When my turn came to go into the surgery, he said, ‘What now?’ It had become his usual form of address.
‘It’s my breasts,’ I said; ‘they’re swollen and they’re all lumps.’
&
nbsp; ‘Your breasts, swollen and all lumps?’
‘Yes.’
‘What have you done to make them like that?’
‘I…I had an accident.’
‘To both of them at once?’
‘Yes.’
He looked at me steadily for a moment, then said, ‘Mmm. Well, let’s have a look-see. Take your blouse off.’
I went behind the screen and took my blouse off.
He examined me without uttering a word; then said, ‘Put your things on.’
As I was getting dressed I heard him washing his hands at the sink; and now his voice came to me, saying, ‘You’ve got mastitis.’
‘What?’
‘I said, you’ve got mastitis.’
‘Ma…stit…is?’
‘Yes, mastitis. Cows get it in their udders.’
‘Cows?’
‘Yes, that’s what I said. They get it in their udders and they can’t give milk. But you needn’t worry on that score.’
I came slowly out from behind the screen and, looking at him, I repeated, ‘Cows?’
‘That’s what I said, cows. They are females too, you know.’
He now sat down at his desk and began to write. Presently, looking up at me, he said, ‘Anyway, you’re luckier than the cows, you can wear a camp brassière.’
‘What?’ I watched him now close his eyes and droop his head, and his voice seemed to come from way beneath the floor as he said, ‘Maisie. Maisie, I’ve told you before, will you please stop what-ing me!’
‘Well, a thing like mastitis. You tell me cows get it, and now I’ve got to wear a…a what?’
He put his hand to his head and pressed his lips tight together, and I turned my head away, only to see Hamilton crouched in the corner of the room with his forelegs crossed, his head leaning against the wall, looking as if he was having cramp from laughing so much.
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