THE BONDAGE OF LOVE (42 page)

"But what would they have done with it, living in that village?"

"I don't know what the old fella's got stacked away, but I bet that that young nephew of his and his missis, who is as bad as he is, have lived it up over the years. But the money business is secondary in their case. Oh, yes!

It's rape and the result of it, and whatever else the beast put her through that have turned her mind. As Dr. Pringle has said, all the peace, quiet and good feeling in the world is not going to help much, till she gets rid of this fear. And she won't get rid of it unless she's able to speak about it.

And I doubt, dear, whether she'll ever open up to us, so I too think we must follow his advice and get her to a psychiatrist."

"Well, if she's afraid of the males in this house, you, Willie, Bert, and there was Sammy and Sep on Sunday, if she's afraid of us then we're not going to get her to lie on a couch and talk to a strange man, are we?"

"No, but she could lie on a couch and talk to a strange woman. There are women psychiatrists too, and undoubtedly, in many cases they'll be better than men."

"Because they talk more?"

Fiona sighed, saying, "Yes, you're right. Of course, you're right. But it's getting her there. D'you know that when she walks in the garden with us she hates to cross the drive, because the gate's at the end of it, and she can see it. Twice she's attempted to come straight back indoors, when I've said,

" Let's go into the wood. Nothing but the birds and rabbits, and there's a fox's hole there. " I took her and showed her the fox's hole, but she just stared at it as if she weren't interested. And yet you can never tell by her expression because she suddenly said, " Has it got young? " This flummoxed me for a moment, but I said, " No, not now; it had a litter in the spring.

At least they used to run around here just as it was getting dark. You'll see them next year. " And she nodded but said nothing. But this morning you know what she did? She went into the kitchen and asked Mrs. Watson if she could do the vegetables. At the time, I was in the pantry and she hadn't seen me. And Mrs. Watson said, " Well, lass, yes. Yes, you can do the vegetables. There are not so many to do now, with three of them away, but we've still got to eat, haven't we? And the master likes his taties, mashed or roasted. Yes, you may do the taties; and

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there's parsnips there, too. Yes, I'll be glad of a hand. "

"When I emerged from the pantry, Mamie looked at me and said, " You . you don't mind? " And I said, " No, my dear; I certainly don't mind.

I would be glad of a hand at any time. And Mrs. Watson hates scraping

carrots. Don't you, Mrs. Watson? "

'"Yes, ma'am," said Mrs. Watson, "one thing I can't abide and that's scraping carrots; I'll peel them. You'll lose half the goodness, but scraping, no."

"Well," Bill now asked Fiona, 'did she do them all right? "

"Perfectly. She did carrots, she did the potatoes and the parsnips, then she peeled the apples for a pie."

"Well, she must have been made to work at that end, 'cos she never did it when she was here, did she?"

"No, oh, no."

"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Bill, springing up from the chair.

"I'll phone that doctor who saw to her when she was in the hospital here.

I'll put him in the picture." . Fifteen minutes later Bill came back into the room, saying, "Well, that's fixed. He put me on to a Dr. Sheila Smith, a common name but an uncommon woman, or so he said. She's also a hypnotist and very good with disturbed children. She said she would come out, but she hasn't a vacancy until next Tuesday, three o'clock next Tuesday afternoon.

Well, now," - he nodded towards her, smiling now "I feel we're on our way.

But to tell you the truth, dear, I won't feel right until I see that girl smile and laugh and stand near something male without flinching."

It was the week before Christmas and Dr. Smith was paying her fifth visit to the subject, as she called Mamie. She was a small woman, in her forties.

She had a bright face, the prominent feature of it being the eyes, which were grey and, at times, looked colourless. There was nothing about her to

suggest a forceful personality, except when she was talking, and then her manner only suggested a quiet pressure.

"Give me your coat," said Fiona.

"What a day!"

"You can say that again. I skidded twice on the main road, the second time near a lorry. Do you know, lorry drivers have the greatest command of words in the English language. Some, as yet, I don't understand, although I've heard them a number of times. Apparently not one of them thinks I'm a good driver."

Fiona laughed as she said, "Come into the drawing-room first and have a cup of tea. It's all ready or nearly so. Mrs. Watson was just about to bring me a tray."

"Oh, this is a lovely room." The small woman walked smartly up to the blazing fire; then turning her back to it, as a man would, she lifted her longish skirt well up past the back of her knees and let out a slow, "Ooh!

That's lovely.

The heating system in my car has gone haywire and the seats are leather. "

She looked now to where Mrs. Watson was entering with a tea tray, no smile of welcome on her face, for, in her estimation, psychiatrists came under the heading of dim-wit diggers . "Well, any progress?" Dr. Smith asked Fiona, as she gulped at the hot tea, and Fiona, shaking her head, said rather

ruefully, "Not noticeably. Although on Sunday she did play a game of table tennis with Katie, so, I suppose, that is something. However, she still veers away from my husband and Willie and, indeed from any other male person coming into the house. The sight of them seems to make her dumb. But the other day she said rather a strange thing when we were walking in the wood.

She stopped suddenly and looked up into the big oak that we have down there and she said, " I like trees, especially when they're bare; you can see them better then . the shape and the pattern on the bark. " Don't you think that was a little unusual for her to say?"

"Yes, I do, I do. But it means that her mind is moving away from the grim depths that she's lived in for so long. Yet so far, I have been unable to draw from her what happened in that house. It's been either yes or no, or I don't remember. So, I propose today, with your permission, to use hypnotism.

I've spoken to Dr. Pringle about it and he agrees with me that he thinks the time has

come when the treatment should be changed. If, as is often the case, I had progressed as far as to get her to talk a little about herself and why she is so fearful, then I would not have suggested this. I'm afraid you will have to sit in with me again, for she becomes very uneasy out of your presence. "

"Oh, I don't mind, and although I know nothing about hypnosis, may I ask if it can have any detrimental effects?"

"No, not in this case it won't. I think it can do only good, because if this fear remains with her it won't lessen, it will deepen. The memory of

whatever has happened has almost become en grained in her, and I am positive it is a fear that is making her remain in this childlike form. Although I must say, I can't promise that hypnotism will make her absolutely ... well, say, be her age. In my estimation, she is not what you would call deranged, but there is something wrong there, and whatever it is it will keep her in this state for the rest of her life if we don't drag it out of her. And they are the words: it will have to be dragged out of her."

"I'll call her. She's in the recreation-room with my mother and Angela.

You'll want to see her in the little sitting-room again, I suppose?"

"Yes, that's as good a place as any." . They were seated in the little sitting-room and Dr. Smith was saying to Mamie, "What kind of a week have you had?"

"All right."

"Have you been for walks?"

"Yes, in the wood."

The doctor now turned to Fiona and said, "There's a very funny pantomime on at the Royal. Do you like pantomimes?"

Fiona smiled as she answered, "Yes, we generally all go together as a family.

The only trouble is, we've got to stop Angela from screaming her delight when she sees the horse or the cow, or any supposed animal come on the stage."

Turning now to Mamie, the doctor said, "Do you like pantomimes, Mamie?"

Mamie stared at her for a moment. Her brow was furrowed and her lids

blinking as if she were trying to recall something, and then she said, "Yes.

Yes, I like ..." She broke off here and showed slight agitation before she ended, "I ... I don't want to go."

"All right, my dear, you needn't." Then, moving her chair closer to Mamie, Dr. Smith said in a soft, low voice, "In a minute or so you're going to feel very sleepy ... would you like to lie on the couch?"

"No!"

"You'll feel more comfortable on the couch, Mamie," said Fiona gently.

"But please yourself."

Mamie turned to Fiona and looked at her steadily for a moment; then rising slowly from the chair, she lay on the couch.

Dr. Smith sat down by the couch and, taking Mamie's hand, she said, "Relax, dear. In a minute you are going to sleep." Now she held up one hand in front of Mamie's face and, moving one digit after the other, she said in a rhythmic tone,

"Five ... four ... three ... two ... one ... Now you are nicely asleep."

She waited a moment, the while she kept her eyes on Mamie's closed lids, and then she said, "I want you to imagine you have reached your grandfather's house and describe what happened from then on."

Mamie's eyeballs now began to move rapidly under the closed lids, and her voice, beginning as a whimper, said, "Awful ... nasty," and she now leaned forward and gripped her knees, saying, "Sore. Sore ... always praying ... I hate you, Grandfather. I hate you! I'm itchy all over ...itchy." And she rubbed her arms, then her stomach.

Lying back now, she muttered, "I'm hungry. I want a drink ... You're cruel!

All of you. I won't sign your papers, I won't! I want to go home, I want to go back ... Prison. All right, prison ... My back is so itchy ... I can put it on myself. Owen ... Don't! Don't do that.

I'll tell. " Her arms were now flailing the air and she was crying, "

Please! Please. OwenI' Her hands came forward like claws, her head jerked back as if it had been struck and her knees came up and she was yelling now,

"Oh please! Please! No, don't do that. You're hurting.

Oh, no! No! "

Her body was now twisted into a heap, and she groaned before suddenly falling back on to the couch, her head and every part of her, limp.

There was a long silence; her eyeballs were moving slowly now from side to side; then the

words came, low and clear, "I'm going mad. I hope they take me away."

There was another silence, before a whimper came from her, "Oh, if only if only ..."

The doctor looked at Fiona, whose face was streaming with tears, and she said softly, "Very good. Let's hope it's done it. It must have done something, but just what, remains to be seen. Now, if I were you, I would go and make a cup of tea."

After the door closed softly on Fiona, Dr. Smith spread a hand in front of Mamie's face and said, "When you wake up you'll feel so relaxed and you'll welcome a cup of tea." And she snapped her fingers.

"Where's Auntie Fi?"

"She's gone to make that cup of tea, dear."

"Oh, that's nice. I'd like a cup of tea."

The kitchen looked bright: the wallpaper had a yellow base, the floor was newly covered with modern linoleum in a warm brown colour and it had the appearance of being tiled. The long table was covered with a chenille cloth; the old couch was enhanced by a chintz cover; and on the floor in front of the hearth was a multi-coloured rug. Overall, the kitchen had a new look.

And Len Gallagher was wearing a light coloured cardigan. The expression on his face, too, was light as he looked at Willie who was sitting to the side of him. Annie was busying herself at the side table, and she made no comment as she listened to her husband saying, "You know, lad, the world's changed since our day.

There's that one upstairs, packing what she calls her weekend case.

Can you imagine it? And as for changes, just look what's happened in this house within the last three years. And, you know, lad," he now stabbed his finger towards Willie, 'all through your family. Oh, yes, all through your family."

Willie could say nothing to this; he just smiled at the man he had come to know so well and whom

he liked more than a little. And when Mr. Gallagher said, "And you're sitting there, lad, telling me you're going' to marry me daughter. Eeh!

Lad, we can't believe it. Can we, Annie? " He looked over his shoulder; but when his wife made no answer, Willie put in, "Well, as I said, Len, it won't be for some long time, but we want to announce our engagement today. I have a long trek before me, possibly five years, and Daisy herself is going to be busy, so she tells me."

Len's voice was low now when he said, "How are your people going' to take this, eh? Have they any inkling?"

"Oh ... oh, I think so." He gave a short laugh as he added, "More than an inkling."

When he didn't go on any further, Len said, "Well, I can see your dad accepting her, and I'm speaking plainly now, tad, but what about your mam, eh?"

Willie did not speak for a moment, but he thought, Mam. She welcomed Daisy to the house, she was nice to her, but, yes, there was still a barrier there, for she never brought up the subject now of how he felt about her. And so it was in a rather lame tone that he said, "Oh, Mam likes her."

Letting this pass, Len said, "As her ma there' - he jerked his head towards Annie 'told her some long time ago ... well, since she came out of that mad gear and began to dress like a woman, or a young lass, which she still is; well, Annie told her that she should mind her manners and alter her ways.

But no, she wasn't going to change for anybody. And

yet, there's been a difference of late, hasn't there, Annie? We've noticed it, haven't we? "

"Yes. Yes, we've noticed it," Annie said. Then, as she sat down on the bench at the end of the table, and looked towards Willie, she added quietly,