The year of the virgins (17 page)

Joe drew the chair up close to the bedhead and, looking tenderly down on the white face, he said, 'Fire ahead.'

'It's . . . it's about Annette.'

'What about her? She's all right, she's doing fine. You won't have all that long to go before you see your . . .'

Don's hand came on to his now and pressed it as he said, 'You've put your finger on it, I won't have that long to go.'

'Oh, now, now!' Joe pulled his hand roughly away.

'Stop that nonsense. Don't take me up wrong. You've been doing fine since you came home.'

Don now turned his head away and said slowly, 'Joe, please. If ... if I can't speak the truth to you, who can I speak it to? You know as well as I do time's running out.' He now tapped the counterpane in the direction of his stomach, before saying, 'They were thinking of taking me in again with that. But if they do, it'll be a quick end, so they suspect. That's why they're putting it off. But I don't suspect; I know. And my breathing's getting . . . worse. Now, now!' He was looking at Joe again. 'Please, Joe. She'll likely be back at . . . any minute, and it's about her I want to speak. And listen to me, don't say a word until I'm finished. No matter what you think, don't . . . don't say a word. And it's just this. By rights you should have married Annette . . . Please!' His fingers went into a fist and when Joe was about to emphatically check his words, Don put in, 'If Dad hadn't manoeuvred and pushed me forward just because ... because he thought it was best, I know that, to get me out of... Mam's clutches, she would have continued to admire you. She always did, you know . . . from when she was a schoolgirl. But even when . . . when she turned to me, I was afraid at first that it was only a flash in the pan and then there would be you again. I loved you, Joe, but I loved her too. So I - ' He paused for breath, gasped for a moment, then almost in a rush he said, T deliberately made sure she would be mine. I was the one who made the first . . . move, not her. And . . . and once done, it went on. Then that didn't seem enough. I could have continued like that with no results, but... but I made up my mind there would be a result; at least, I hoped there would and that would clinch it. And it did. But then I was scared, we were both scared, very scared. That's

why I insisted on the wedding being brought forward . . . "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft a-gley". God, there's never been a truer saying . . .'

'No more. No more. I know all about it.'

'You do?'

'Yes, yes, I do: Dad being supposedly with you all the time when you went out, but him going off too, leaving you two alone, and you went straight to the cottage.'

'How did you know that?'

'Intuition, partly, but I happened to go to the cottage one day with the plans. You remember Annette wanted the kitchen extended, and before I turned up the farm track I happened to see the car outside. And that night both you and Dad talked as if you had been together all the time. So, what are you worrying about? Tell me something I don't know.'

'Yes, yes, I will. When . . . when I'm gone I ... I want you to look after Annette and the child, to do what you've always wanted to do: marry her.'

Joe got slowly to his feet, saying now, his voice firm, 'You're alive, Don. You're going to be alive for a long time yet. What you haven't taken into account is that Annette looks upon me as a brother, a big brother. She loves you and always will.'

'Sit down, Joe, please. This business of ... of love and death, I've given them a lot of thought of late. Yes, Annette loved me during that year we were together. Funny, but when I went for Mam that time I called it "The Year of The Virgins"; and yes, we were both virgins. But love can still be love even if it changes. Annette still.. . still loves me but in a ... a different way. She is my nurse, my companion, and yes, she even plays the mother, strangely while waiting to be a mother herself. And because she . . . she is waiting for

that I think she is somehow apart. I think if the accident hadn't happened I would have learned to understand that . . . because she was carrying the child she had in a way grown apart, somehow self-reliant, taken up with what she is nourishing. All ... all women must feel that. And you know, lying here thinking, I don't believe that love can ever be the same once a woman has a child . . . because . . . because she's housed it in her body and in some way the man has lost a piece of her. Strange thing.' He smiled wanly now. 'But along those lines I can even understand Mam, although, oh God! I don't want to see her again, ever, Joe.' He turned and groped for Joe's hand. 'That might s . . . sound awful of me, but I dread the thought that she'll ever come back here.'

'I don't think you need worry very much about that. By what Dad's said and by what Flo confirmed, the very thought of facing your Dad again would indeed send her mad.'

'Well, with treatment, she will likely get over it some time. But I hope I die before that time comes.'

'You're not going to die. Will you stop it?'

'No, I won't stop it, Joe, because, let me tell you, I'm . .. I'm not afraid of dying. I was some months ago, but not any more. It's those who are so healthy and strong and . . . and all people like you who are afraid of dying. But when you lose your body and you've only got your mind left it puts things in perspective. The only thing ... I want to live for is to see my child born. And then I'll be quite glad to go, because' - his voice ended on a break - 'I'm in pain, Joe, deep pain. The pills don't erase it entirely. The injections do, but I don't want too many of those.'

Joe was unable to speak and it was with relief that he greeted Stephen when the door burst open to admit the

young fellow who was carrying a narrow wooden box and saying, 'I had a job to find it. It was on top of the cupboard. You remember, Maggie put it up there because it made so much rattle when we played it.'

'That wasn't why she put it up there,' said Joe, 'it was because you cheated.'

'I didn't, Joe. Did I, Don?'

'No, you didn't Stephen, you never cheated.'

'You were just jokin', Joe, weren't you?'

'Yes, big boy, I was just joking.'

Joe ruffled the head that was on a level with his own and, in a quieter voice, he said, 'I don't think I would play the game with Don tonight; he's a bit tired.'

'You tired, Don?'

'Yes, I am a little, Stephen. We'll have a game tomorrow. Ah' - he looked towards the door - 'here's the boss, and she wouldn't let us play on the clean counterpane, would she?'

'What's this about playing on the clean counterpane?'

'I ... I brought the checkers game.'

'Oh, that rattly thing.'

'There you are.' Joe nodded at Stephen now. T bet you don't reign long with that one.'

'Ah! you.' Stephen now punched Joe in the chest, saying, 'You would get me into trouble, wouldn't you?'

'Yes, if I could, but it's so difficult to catch you out in anything these days.'

He watched the big form wriggle as a younger boy might, then say, 'Oh! Joe; you're teasin' me, aren't you? Pulling my leg, you are, aren't you?'

'I've never touched your leg. I wouldn't touch your leg with a barge-pole.'

As Stephen laughed it came to Joe that legs were a

tactless topic. But Don was smiling and saying, 'Go on, you two, get out. I never seem to get a minute alone with my wife; there's always one or the other of you here. All right. All right.' He wagged his finger towards Stephen. 'I'll play you a game tomorrow.'

'Come on, big boy.' Joe marshalled Stephen from the room, and Annette, taking the chair that Joe had vacated, said to Don, 'Don't you think there's a change in Stephen; I mean, for the better?'

'Yes. Yes, I do. I thought I was imagining it, but since you mention it, yes.' He looked up at her now and paused a moment before asking her: 'How are you feeling, really? Tell me; don't just say, all right.'

'To tell the truth, darling, I don't know exactly how I'm feeling, never ever having had the privilege of being in this condition before.' She tweaked his nose now. T suppose it's natural to feel . . . well . . .' She screwed up her face now. 'Sometimes I think that he or she could come tomorrow; but I've got several weeks to go yet.'

'Do you feel ill? I mean, just a . . .'

'No, I don't feel ill. And stop worrying. Here, let me put your pillows straight.'

As she rose from the chair she asked herself, 'Do I feel ill?' And the answer she was given was, 'Yes, in a way more like feeling odd; so odd I should go and see the doctor on Monday.'

It was the last week in March 1961 and very cold. Some were saying they could smell the snow, while others countered with, Don't be ridiculous; all that's happening is we've had two nights of keen frosts.

It was after seven o'clock and the house had dropped into its evening quiet when the front door bell rang. Maggie happened to be passing through the hall and, on opening the door, said, 'Oh, good evening, Father.'

'Good evening, Maggie. And what a snifter! I shouldn't be surprised if we have snow; I shouldn't at all.'

'Oh, the times I've heard that today. We're touching April, the daffodils are out. Anyway, are you better, Father? I hear you've had a nasty time of it.'

Maggie was helping him off with his coat now as he said, 'I'm the fellow who created the saying, "Swinging the lead". They say it was originally a timing device; don't you believe it. I've had them all run off their feet for the past two weeks or more and I've enjoyed every minute of it.' He coughed now, a deep rumbling cough, and Maggie nodded at him, saying, 'Yes, yes, I can believe

that, Father. At the sound of that chest I can believe it.' She laughed now as she took his coat and placed it over the back of a chair. 'What I can believe, too, is that you're a very queer individual, Father.'

'I am that, Maggie, I am that. And anybody who says different I'll call him a liar. There's nobody queerer than me. That's another saying that sprang with me birth: "The Queer Fella". Where's everybody?'

'Oh, scattered around, Father.'

'Well, I'll find them, I suppose.' And he was on his way when he swung round, saying, 'Got a minute, Maggie?' And when she turned enquiringly and walked towards him, he said, 'Lent's nearly over and we're supposed either to give up something that's dear to our hearts or do something that could be dear to our hearts. And you know, Maggie, there's one thing I've always craved to do and that's make a convert. I've never knowingly made a convert, not in my whole career. Now wouldn't you like to please an old man and step over the wall?'

She pushed him as she gurgled with laughter, saying, 'Go on with you, Father. If anybody could have got me into your tribe it would have been you; but even you and all the tea in China wouldn't make me take that step.'

'You're a hard woman, Maggie. I've always known that you're a hard woman.' His smile denied his words. Then leaning towards her and lowering his voice, he said, 'When you produce the bottle, bring some hot water and sugar with it, eh?'

She was chuckling too as she said, 'Hot water and sugar it is, you queer fella. Hot water and sugar it is.'

As he turned, laughing, from Maggie, he saw Annette coming along the corridor and she greeted him with, 'Hello, Father. You're up?'

'Well, if I'm not, I must be walking in me sleep with all me clothes on. How are you, my dear?' He put his hand on her shoulder. 'The last I heard, you were ordered to bed for a time.'

'Yes, but I'm fine now.'

'Sure?'

'Nearly sure.'

'Like that is it?'

'Like that, Father.'

'Strain telling?'

'No, not really; it's just that. . . well' - she smiled now -'I'm not used to this business, you know.' She put her hand on her high abdomen, and he, serious now, said, 'No, no, you're not, child; but I'd go careful, it's a critical time. Obey the doctor's orders. I had a word with him the other day when he was trying to find out what was wrong with me, and he couldn't, so he said, "Get up on your pins because I'm not coming in any more." He then told me you were tired. And it's no wonder, so - ' his voice serious again, his hand on her head, he said, 'Go careful; he would like to see his child. You know that, don't you?' He did not add, 'That's what he's hanging on for.' But she answered, 'Yes, yes, I know that, Father.'

'And you know there's a possibility he will have to go into hospital again?'

'Yes, yes, I know that also, Father.'

'Ah, well, we all know where we stand, don't we?' And his voice rising, he ended, 'Where's the head of the house?'

'The last time I saw him he was making for his study.'

'Well, I'll slip along and see him, then have a word with Don.'

'He'll be pleased to see you, Father. He's missed you these last few weeks.'

'Ah, that's nice to know. It's nice to be missed. I'll tell you something, though: there's one who didn't miss me. He's had the time of his life, I understand, in that pulpit. You know who.'

'Yes, I know, Father. The church has been very warm these last few Sundays.'

His laughter rang out as he said, 'Ha! ha! That's a good one. Opened up a few more furnaces, has he? Well, let me get back on to that stand and I'll cool 'em down. You take me word for it.'

'I've no doubt of that, Father.'

They went their separate ways laughing, and the priest, knocking on the study door, called, 'It's me! May I come in?'

'Oh yes, yes, come in, Father,' Daniel called, and on the priest's entering the room, he said, 'I never expected to see you; I didn't know you were up.'

'Nobody seems to expect to see me except at me funeral. I've disappointed a lot of people, I can tell you. Anyway, I'm here and I've just given Maggie orders about the hot water and the sugar. Is that all right?'

Daniel made no answer to this but said, 'Sit down. Come up to the fire.'

The priest sat down and gazed at the flickering electric logs, saying, 'They give off a good heat; a little imagination and you feel you could stick a poker into them. I'm going to treat meself to one of those some day and put it in me bedroom, because, believe me, Iceland's nothing compared with that room. That's what's given me this.' He tapped his chest. 'Now the damage is done, they're going to put in central heating. The belief that freezing cold is good for the soul and dampens the emotions is poppycock; there's more people jump into bed together