A Kind of Loving (39 page)

Just for a minute Ma Rothwell glares at Mr Rothwell as if to
say, 'Whose side are you on?' and then she climbs down off her
high horse a bit.

'I just want to make it clear that this sort of thing involves other people besides the two of them.'

'Yes, I think Victor appreciates that,' Mr Rothwell says. 'I
think he's as sorry about it now as any young man could be.'

(Sorrier than that, old lad, if you did but know.)

'He's had his parents to face as well and I expect that wasn't
too easy. I don't like the idea of young people starting married life this way any more than anybody else does, but the damage
is done now and we shall just have to make the best of it. Victor's
come straight out like a man and said he'll marry Ingrid, and I
respect him for it. As for Ingrid, from what she's told me I think
she'd like nothing better than to be Victor's wife, baby or no
baby.'

This makes Ingrid blush a bit but she doesn't look up.

Well, considering all the circumstances and the fact that I wish
I'd never had to meet him, I'm beginning to like Ingrid's old man,
and I reckon he doesn't think I'm all that bad either. Her mother's got her little mouth all pursed up and I reckon she's disappointed
at not being let shout the odds a bit longer and a bit put out
because her hubby's put all his cards on the table so soon. She
says nothing, though, and I wonder what she's going to turn
out like when Mr Rothwell isn't around to keep her in check. I'm not very hopeful.

'I think we ought to get down to practical matters,' Mr Roth
well says, like a bloke who wants to get his business wound up
because he hasn't a lot of time to spare. 'Such as how soon the wedding can be and where they're going to live. I think the
wedding should take place as quickly and as quietly as possible,
with no fuss, I should say in three or four weeks' time. What d'you
think, Victor?'

'I think that'll be all right.'

May as well be tomorrow if it's going to be at all. I can't say
anything else but okay because it's got beyond me now. I'm not
in charge any longer. I'm horrified, though, at how fast things
are beginning to move. A month ago I was free to come and go
as I liked, and a month from now, at this rate, I'll be a married man with a wife I don't particularly like, let alone love, and a
chico on the way! Oh, what a mug, what a mug!

'Of course,' Ingrid's dad says, 'there's still a chance that it's
a false alarm. A small chance. But in that event you'll be married
anyway, so it doesn't really matter.'

That's the maddening thing about it all, the way everybody's
looking at it upside down. They all think we've been courting
in the ordinary way and got a bit impatient and jumped the gun. They've got no idea the way things have really been and I can't tell them. All I can say is it'd be real rich if I wind up married to
Ingrid and it does turn out to be a false alarm after all!

'Registry office, of course,' Mr Rothwell says, and Mrs Roth
well's bottom lip starts to tremble and she feels for her hanky.

'When I think', she says, nearly repeating what the Old Lady
said, 'of the nice wedding I've always imagined Ingrid having. All in white, at church, with the choir and all our relatives and
friends there. When I think what a proud day it would have been
... And now this ... this hole-in-the-corner affair ...'

Ingrid puts her hand into her ma's. 'It doesn't matter, Mother.
I don't mind.'

'But
I
do,' Mrs Rothwell says. 'It's a mother's proudest
day.'

'Well I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about that now,'
Mr Rothwell says, 'so we'll just have to put it out of our minds.
The next important matter is where they're going to live. Have
you any ideas on that, Victor?'

'Well, I don't really know ...' It's all happening so quick,
without giving me a chance to think. All I could think about was
would I get out of it, would it be all right. I've always imagined
that when I met that girl we'd have a house al! lined up, or at
least a flat to begin with. Somewhere private and cosy, just for the
two of us. 'I haven't had time to think about it,' I say. 'I suppose
we could live at our house for a while. We don't stand a chance of finding a house of our own straight away.'

'To rent, you mean?'

'Yes. I can't afford to buy one.'

I fancy Ingrid's mother curls her lip at this but it might be
just imagination. I'm in the mood for fancying that sort of
thing.

'What do your parents think to that idea?'

'Well I haven't actually mentioned it yet. I don't think they'd mind, though. We've plenty of room.'

'Well I have a suggestion,' he says. 'We talked it over before
you came. I'm away most of the time and if Ingrid leaves too
it'll mean that her mother will be on her own. Of course Ingrid
can't stay to keep her mother company for ever, but for the
present there's no reason why you shouldn't live here. The next few months will no doubt be a bit trying for Ingrid and it'll help
her if she's near her mother. That will give you a breathing space
to look for a house to rent, or save up enough to put a deposit on your own. What do you say?'

Here again, what can I say? They've got it all worked out.
I look at Ma Rothwell, who's saying nothing. I fancy they've
talked this over and left it open till they saw what sort of a bloke I was and whether they could bear me about the place. Well, it
seems I've passed muster on that one, anyway. Still, I'd've preferred to be in a place I know, especially now I'm not sure
about how Ingrid's ma will turn out. But I'm not calling the tune.

'All right... Thank you.'

Well, the conversation carries on in a general sort of way now
and they begin to fish for information about the family. I tell
them about the Old Man and the Old Lady, and about Chris
and Jim, and David. I think Mrs Rothwell would be happier if
the Old Man was a doctor or a solicitor, or a business man even,
rather than a miner. But I've never been ashamed of the Old Man's job before and I don't intend to start now. I think Chris and David help to make up for it a bit as far as Ma Rothwell's
concerned, because she's a snob, no doubt about it.

A bit after nine, when I've had a cup of tea and a biscuit and
promised to fix up for Mr Rothwell and the Old Man to meet
each other and have a natter, I beat it. Ingrid comes with me to
the corner.

' Well?' she says as we walk along.

'It wasn't so bad. And anyway, it's done with now.'

'Think about me,' she says. 'I've got it to face yet.'

'Oh, you'll be okay. They won't eat you. Just be yourself and
don't put any airs and graces on and they'll take to you okay.'

Why shouldn't they take to her? I think. She's a nice enough
kid and they haven't to live with her for the rest of their lives.
Forty years, maybe longer. It's a
real
life sentence, and no time
off for good behaviour ...

'When will it be?'

'I suppose the sooner the better now. What about tomorrow
night?'

'Oh, dear... Well, all right.'

A bit farther on I say, 'I like your dad.' I'm thinking it's a
pity he'll be away most of the time because having him around
would probably increase my chances of rubbing along with
liogrid's mother. Anyway, I shan't be the first bloke who didn't care for his mother-in-law; or his wife, for that matter. Not that
that's any consolation at all. Not a bit.

III

'Well he seems a nice enough chap,' the Old Feller says when we
get back home. It's Wednesday night now and we've been to
meet Mr Rothwell in the lounge bar of the Craven Arms. 'Talks
reasonable an' quiet an' doesn't go flyin' off the handle about
summat 'at can't be altered.'

'You want goin' an' talking over your children's futures in a
pub,' the Old Lady says.

'It isn't a pub,' the Old Man says, 'it's t'best hotel in Cressley.
It wa' good enough for our Christine's weddin' reception,
wadn'tit?'

'That wa' different,' the Old Lady says. 'We had a private
room: we didn't go into the bar.'

'When a couple o' fellers get together to talk things over they
have a drink,' the Old Man says. 'I'll bet there's more important
matters settled there than anywhere else in Cressley. 'Xcept maybe t'Con Club. An' anyway, I told you before, we had to
meet on neutral ground like. If he'd come here he'd ha' felt
at a disadvantage, an' I know I should if I'd gone to their house.
Besides,' he says, giving me a sly wink, 'we didn't want any
women about throwin' spanners in t'works.'

'Oh, aye,' the Old Lady says. 'Oh, aye, leave it to t'men an'
it'll be all right. I know.' She nods her head a time or two. 'Well
them 'at lives t'longest 'ull see t'most.'

She goes into the kitchen and comes back in a minute with
a couple of mugs. 'Here's your cocoa, if you can stomach any more liquid tonight.'

The Old Man lifts his eyebrows at me but says nothing.

'Well I must say,' the Old Lady says, sitting down, "at Ingrid
seems a decent enough lass. I'll admit I was quite prepared to
dislike her, but I changed me mind when I'd seen her. Time'll tell whether I'm right or wrong, but I don't think our Victor's getting a bad lass for a wife. He could ha' done worse.'

This is high praise from the Old Lady, and something to tell
Ingrid when I see her again.

'What's her mother like, Vic?' the Old Feller asks me. 'D'you
think you'll get on with her?'

I pull a little face and shake my head.' She's a bit of a rum 'un,
Dad. I don't rightly know.'

The Old Feller looks at me and there's a kind of frosty smile
in his eyes. "Tha're goin' to have plenty o' time to find out, lad,'
he says.

'Married?' Mr Van Huyten says. 'Well, bless my soul!
Congratulations, Victor. This is rather sudden, isn't it? Or have
I been out of touch?'

'We kind of decided all at once.'

'Ah, well, you impetuous young people,' he says with a twinkle.
'Of course you can take your first week's holiday when you like.
You must have a honeymoon.' He makes a note in his diary.
"The second week in May. No, I don't see any objection to that.'

'I'm afraid we shan't be able to ask you to the wedding, Mr Van Huyten. It's going to be a very small affair, y'see. Just close family like,'

'Oh, that's all right, Victor. I understand perfectly.' I wonder if he does. And if he does he says not a dicky bird
about it either now or later. He's like that, of course, is Mr Van
Huyten.

Henry's a great believer in marriage.