THE BONDAGE OF LOVE (20 page)

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Authors: Yelena Kopylova

BOOK: THE BONDAGE OF LOVE
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"Funny! Funny! But, lass, I would like to be there tonight when all that stuff arrives."

"So would I, dear." Fiona's voice was soft.

"And, you know, I may as well tell you, I got great pleasure out of seeing that hamper packed.

And Mr. Graves promised that the other parcels would be dressed up to the eyes. I told him it was your idea, and . now hold your head in case it

swells . he said he had heard you were a good fellow. Ah, but wait! For he added, "at bottom" ; he wasn't saying what was on top. "

"Careful, Mrs. Bailey, careful."

"No; seriously, dear, he thought it was a wonderful gesture, and he could understand why you wanted to make it. And I told him about one or two other things you intended to do, and he was so interested."

"You should mind your own business about that, Mrs. Bailey."

"I'll try, Mr. Bailey, I'll try. What time will you be home?"

"Well, as we're closing down tonight, I want to stay on to see what type of guards they're sending this time."

"You have to be there, and the managers?"

"Yes, I know they'll be there, dear. But you know me; and this is a new firm we've taken on, don't forget: I'd like to tell them myself what will happen to them if they kip down on the job."

"You're an awful man, but canny in your way." He laughed now as he said,

"You're canny yourself, Mrs. Bailey. Be seem' you, lass."

When Fiona put the phone down she looked towards her mother who was entwining holly in the wrought-iron balustrade of the broad stairway, and she said,

"Bill's saying he wishes he could be at the Gallaghers tonight when the hamper and parcels arrive."

Mrs. Vidler paused in her work and, sitting down on one of the stairs, she said, "And you know, Fiona, so would I. Yes, so would I, if it was only to see that girl again. She intrigues me; I've seen nothing like her. I was thinking about her the other night and I thought she must be absolutely fearless to walk about dressed up as she is. And that hair, you know, has all gone out of fashion."

"Not quite, Mother. I understand that when they go jiving or whatever, a lot of them go round like that."

"And, you say she fences and does jujitsu?"

"Yes, and very well, from what I've been told."

"My! My! As they say, you shouldn't judge people by their dress."

Fiona gave no answer to this, but she went to the large open fireplace at the end of the room and placed another log in the iron basket, thinking my, my!

for her mother to say, never judge people by their clothes! At one time, that's all she went by except, of course, their accents. If there had been a change in anyone in this world, it had taken place within her mother.

Her mother's voice came to her now, saying, "I'm so looking forward to Sammy coming home tomorrow. And you know, Fiona, I've been thinking a lot about his father recently. Whether you believe it or not, I had a great affection for him. I had."

"Yes, I know you had. Mother, and he appreciated it." Even as she said this she conjured up Davey Love, Sammy's father, a man so opposite to her mother it was impossible to imagine. Her mother so prim and correct before her unfortunate, or perhaps, fortunate experience in America that brought her back to England a chastened woman. And then there was Davey, half her age, who could hardly say three words without two of them being curses, even if they were laughable ones. And he, poor Davey, scared out of his wits by her mother's attention, so much so that he had come and appealed to them for help. It had been laughable in those days. She stood looking down into the blazing logs, thinking, they had laughed a lot, they had all laughed a lot when Davey was alive, because he had played the part of God's idiot. That's what he had called himself, "God's idiot'. He had been such a wise man underneath it all. But during this last year they hadn't seemed to laugh very much. There had been little merriment in the house, family merriment, and it was all due to that girl. And she had tried. Oh, how she had tried, and all the time it had been useless, for there she was, shoplifting and taking drugs. Dear, dear God! She closed her eyes tightly for a moment as she thought, well, things would be different from now on: she was with her grandfather and likely to stay there, because he would hang on to her, if for nothing else for the money that was coming to her. But knowing what she did about Mamie, once that girl got her hands on her own money, she doubted if even her grandfather would see much of it.

Anyway, Sammy was alive, and he was coming home tomorrow. Like his father, but not so much, because he didn't now decorate his language with colourful adjectives . and nouns. Nevertheless, he created laughter, did Sammy. And pray God, from now on laughter would once more return to the house.

She was diverted from her musing by the voice of her small daughter, who was now coming down the stairs, saying, "I help, Grin? I help.

Grin? "

"No, darling, you'll get prickles in you from the holly."

"Pickles?" The childish laughter rang out. And as Fiona looked up the stairs, there she saw someone who, in her own way, created laughter;

and not only laughter but love, binding love, a love that threaded the family together. Yet even this had been tested during the past year through that girl. Oh! why couldn't she . ?

She swung round and made for the kitchen, saying almost aloud, why couldn't she forget about that girl? She was gone from their lives never to return.

Never! Never! Never!

2. 07

"D'you want your suet puddin' with your stew, or are you going' to save it for afters, our Sep?"

"For afters, Ma."

The an' all," put in Danny, 'with sugar, Ma."

"We'll see about the sugar when the time comes."

"Well, if I don't have sugar, I'll have butter and jam on it."

"This is what comes from getting' your name in the papers." Frank was nodding down the table at his small brother.

"If I had my way with you, I'd scud your ear every time you opened your mouth."

"When I'm big enough, Frank, I'll remember what you said, and you'll be too doddery then to stand up to me. And I'll remember you're always shutting me up because of me lip. So, don't forget."

With the exception of Daisy and her mother, who were serving the meal from a side table, the rest of the family joined in the chuckles and laughter.

After placing the last soup plate of mutton stew in front of her mother at the bottom of the table, Daisy took her own place, yet no-one started to eat until Annie said, "Well, let's go."

They had been eating in silence for a while, when there was the sound of choking and spluttering from a different quarter of the table and Annie's voice came, admonishing her youngest daughter, "Stop playing about with your dinner, girl! Put that spoon down. You'd be glad of that if you were

hungry. You're getting too finicky by half. You only get it once a week now."

"But it's always fatty, Ma."

There was another splutter. Then, from the far end of the table, Frank said,

"You tell her, girl! You tell her, and ask her why she can't give us sirloin once in a while, and a rump steak. I like rump steak and chips me self And to add to this, Harry put in, The an' all, Frank. There's nothing can beat a rump steak and chips and plenty of tomato sauce on it." Then lowering his voice and his head going forward in order to look at his brother, he added,

"She's stingy with the tomato sauce, isn't she?"

Again there was a splutter. But Annie said nothing; she just continued to take her spoon around the side of the plate. And when Sep, in a quiet,

almost refined tone, said, "Roast lamb is very appetising, served with green peas and new potatoes. I remember once in the far, far past, having partaken of such and ..."

His voice was cut off by the scraping of a chair, and in amazement now they watched their mother hurry across the kitchen and push open the door into the front room. It was at this point Mike got to his feet and, looking down the table, he said,

"You're an unthinking lot of buggers. That's what you are."

"Sit down. Sit down, Mike." Len patted his son's arm.

"Another time she would have taken it, but with Christmas coming ... well, she's a bit touchy. Sit down, sit down." He now tugged Mike back into his seat.

But as Mike sat down, Daisy rose from her seat, saying roughly, "If you want fancy meals, then you should tip up fancy money," and with this she, too, went into the front room.

Frank now turned to his father, saying, "I tip up a decent share. Da.

Always have done. "

"I know, lad, I know."

"Mine isn't all that big to tip up." Sep's voice was again quiet, but expressing a note of regret.

It was a good ten minutes later when their mother returned to the kitchen.

And there, Frank going up to her, said, "Sorry, Ma. It was all in fun."

"I know, lad. I'm just getttin' thin-skinned in me old age. I should have more sense. D'you know something?" She looked about her.

"I hate Christmas. I really do, I hate Christmas. Oh," - she went over to the side table now, saying on a lighter note 'you would like your suet

puddin' with sugar. Master Danny, wouldn't you? "

"It doesn't matter, Ma," the small voice answered her now.

"I'll have it plain."

"You'll have it with sugar, and like it."

"I would like hot syrup on mine, if you don't mind, Mrs. Gallagher."

Len now winked at those of his family who were looking at him in some

surprise, as it wasn't often their da took up a joke. And there was a pause before their mother answered him.

"You know what I'd like to do at this minute if I had any syrup in the house, don't you, Mr. Gallagher?" And when their father answered, "Yes, I've got a good idea, Mrs. Gallagher," there was laughter in the kitchen again, but slightly subdued now . It was a good half-hour later when, the table had been cleared and Daisy, helped by Jean, had washed up the dishes, Frank came into the room again dressed for going out.

Speaking to Mike who was sitting to one side of the fireplace reading the paper, he said, "Come on down to the club with us; I can afford to stand you a pint the night, it being pay day."

"No, thanks." Mike hadn't even looked up from the paper, until Frank's voice came at him, barking, "Don't be so bloody miserable! It'll get you nowhere.

You're not the only one who's having to sit on his arse."

Mike sprang up from his chair and, flinging the paper to the floor, he cried back at his brother, "I don't sit on me arse. I walk the streets, the roads, every bloody day."

When Annie pushed in between them, one hand on each of them pressing them apart, she said, "For God's sake! Give over, both of you." Then nodding towards them, she tossed her head backwards and indicated where Len was going quickly out of the room, and she hissed at them both, "How d'you think he feels? He's sitting there

2. "

because he can't do anything else . "

The knock on the front door drew them apart. It wasn't just a knuckle knock but more like a bang, which caused Annie to march to the door and give the visitor, whom she imagined would be a Christmas collector, a mouthful.

March to the door she did, but she didn't speak. Two men confronted her, and on the pavement between them was a very large hamper. And beyond the

pavement she could see a van.

"Mrs. Gallagher?"

"Yes."

"Well, we had better bring this in."

"Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" She stopped the men from lifting the hamper.

"I think you've got the wrong house. I'm not expecting any hampers." She recalled the adverts sent through the post advertising hampers, and she had been more than vexed just by the sight of them.

"This is Forty-five, Brompton Road West?"

"Aye, it is."

"And the name's Gallagher, Mrs. Gallagher?"

"Yes, you're right again."

"Well, this hamper is for you."

Slowly, she moved back, pulling the door with her, and the men had to edge the hamper in side ways. And after placing it on the floor near the table, they looked around at the staring faces, which caused one of the men to smile and address Mike, saying, "I think we'll need a hand to lift it on to the table."

Mike hesitated for some seconds before he moved forward as if in a daze.

Then, when the hamper was on the table the men, looking from one to the other, said, "This isn't all, there's more odds and ends to come."

Only the door opening and Sep coming back into the kitchen broke the silence, for it was as if the other occupants had been struck dumb.

When the men returned they placed a large square cardboard box on the table, together with four parcels in Christmas wrapping.

Both men, nodding to the occupants, exclaimed awkwardly, "Happy Christmas!

then. Happy Christmas!" They were smiling widely, but it seemed they weren't going to be answered until there was a joint chorus, some voices high and some low, saying, "Same to you! Same to you!" and from Annie, "Many thanks. Many thanks."

She saw them to the door. Then, when they were on the pavement and making for the van, and pulling the door after her, she went quickly towards them and in a whisper she enquired, "Who ... who sent this lot?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Bailey."

She nodded now silently, but didn't repeat the name. And when the men got into the van, they both leaned forward and looked at her again and one of them said, "That lot should help you over the holidays, missis."

All she could do was nod her head. Then the van drove off and she was left standing in the street, to hear a voice from the door calling, "Come in out of that, Ma; you'll be frozen."

Slowly she walked back to where Daisy was holding the door open, and she said, "Mr. and Mrs. Bailey."

At this Daisy just shook her head. Then they both joined the melee round the table.

"God in heaven!" It was Frank who, seemingly having recovered his good humour, made the statement, "I've never seen a hamper that size in me life.

Who's it from?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Bailey."

All eyes now were turned from the hamper on to Master Danny who, his head wagging, was saying, "Likely it's because Mike and me saved that fella."

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