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Authors: 1906-1998 Catherine Cookson

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BOOK: The year of the virgins
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'She doesn't know it' - he drew in a gasping breath - 'but things aren't going to be easy out there.' Another gasp at the air. T . . . I shouldn't wonder to see them back in . . . in no time.'

'Oh, I think they know what they're up against. They've got through it here so they'll manage.'

'You're . . . you're all dressed for out.'

'Yes, I have to go to work sometimes, you know' - Joe smiled - 'if it's only to put in an appearance.'

'Nurse said your . . . your light was ... on at half-past two . . . this morning.'

'She's a Nosey Parker, like all nurses.' He glanced towards Nurse Porter and she turned, smiling, towards him, saying, 'I'll tell her tonight what you said. She's a hefty piece; you'd find your match.'

'That would be nice.' He returned her smile; then looking at Don again, he said, 'Well, I'm off. I'll be back at lunch-time. Behave yourself, mind. Do you hear?'

'Joe.' Don's voice was a thin whisper now. 'When . . . when is she . . . coming? I mean . . .'

'Any time now. I'm going in this afternoon; I'll likely bring her back with me then.'

'Do. Please do, Joe.'

'I will.' He patted the thin shoulder. 'Don't you worry, just behave yourself.' And with this, he turned and went out and along the corridor to his own cottage.

Having thrown some papers into his case, he stood looking down at it for a moment and repeated to himself and grimly, 'Everything comes to him who waits.' My God! Flo must have thought he was hanging on for that. .. Well, wasn't he?

No, Nol He wasn't going to have that said of him.

He entered the hall at dinner time to see Maggie coming slowly down the stairs. She stopped, and he stood at the foot smiling up at her, saying, 'You've made it then?'

'Yes, I've made it. But I hadn't realised just how much it had taken out of me until I stepped outside the hospital. I would prepare yourself before you go along there' - she thumbed towards the sick room - 'there's visitors.'

He glanced in the direction she had indicated, then said, 'Who do you mean? Annette?'

'Yes, Annette.'

'But how?'

'Oh, quite easily. She phoned Lily. Lily brought her clothes and mine in a taxi, and Bob's your uncle, here we are. Now, now; don't look like that; it's all right.'

'And the child too?'

'Yes, and she's doing fine. She's put on a pound or more in a week.'

Maggie descended the rest of the stairs and stood in front of him, saying, quietly now, 'Oh, you should have seen his face when he took the child from her. You know, it's sort of given him a new lease of life. I shouldn't be surprised if - she shook her head now as if denying her thoughts.

'Anyway, it's given him a reprieve, I know that.'

He made no comment on this but turned from her and walked towards Don's room. His step was not hurried nor yet slow and he prepared himself for the tableau before opening the door. And there it was: father, mother, and child, close together.

It was Annette who spoke first. Getting to her feet, she said, 'Now don't be annoyed with me, Joe; I just couldn't stand that room a minute longer. And I'm fine. We're both fine. Look at her!' She pointed to where the child was held in the hollow of Don's arm, a finger of his other hand stroking the wisps of hair. And Don looked at him, saying, 'This is . . . the happiest day of my . . . my life, Joe. Isn't . . . isn't she beautiful?'

'She is that, she's beautiful.' He was bending over them now, and when he put his hand out towards the tiny one groping at the air and it hung on to his thumb the restriction in his throat seemed to expand and cover his chest, making his own breathing difficult for a moment.

It was the nurse who broke the tension by saying, 'Not that all babies don't do that, but, there you are, she's claimed you straight away. So look out! If she howls in the night you know what to expect.'

'She doesn't cry at night,' Annette said. 'They told me she sleeps soundly.'

'And that's what she's going to do now,' said the nurse. 'So here! Give her to me. And you' - she nodded towards Annette - 'go and have something to eat and then it's bed for you this afternoon. Now do what you're told. I've had my orders and I'm giving them to you.'

When the nurse had taken the baby from Don's arms Annette leant over him and, after looking into his face for a moment, she kissed him. And his arms came around her

and held her close. Then he was lying back with the tears oozing slowly from beneath his lids.

Joe, taking hold of Annette's arm, drew her from the bed and out of the room. They didn't speak until they reached the dining-room; and there she sat down before, looking up at him, she said, 'You're vexed with me?'

'No. What makes you think that?'

'Because .. . because I came home on my own and didn't wait another day or so as I promised. But I'm all right and I felt I must be here near him. You understand?'

'Of course I understand.' He sat down beside her. T was going by what the doctor said was best for you; but if there had been any noticeable change in Don you know I would have brought you home immediately.'

'He looks dreadful, Joe.'

'Do you think so? I thought . . . well, I thought he was even looking better?' he lied firmly.

'No, no. And it's not just because I haven't seen him for a week or so. But now, seeing the baby, perhaps he'll rally. What do you think?'

'I think just that, he will rally, he'll go on.'

She shook her head as she looked away from him. 'You don't believe that. Neither do 1.1 looked in on father-in-law ... or Dan, as he insists I call him. He says he's coming home too, but he still looks awful. He ... he told me he's selling the house: he's already told his secretary to put it on the market. I'm glad of that. I hate this place; I wish I could take Don and the baby straight to the cottage. Oh, it's all right, it's all right.' She closed her eyes and put out her hand towards him. 'I know I can't but . . . but I did think Dad might have waited until . . . well -' She shook her head. Then looking at him again, she said, 'What will you do?'

'Oh, don't worry about me; I have it all worked out.'

'You won't leave the town?' There was a note of anxiety in her voice, and he answered, 'No. No, of course not; my work's here.'

'You could set up your work anywhere. Newcastle for instance. Durham, anywhere ... or even Canada.'

Her head drooping on to her chest now, she murmured, 'I felt so lost in there, Joe. I ... I thought perhaps Mother might come and see me. Father I knew would never come, but . . . but somehow . . . But there, she didn't. When the papers were full of it last week one of the new nurses said to me, "It's a good job your parents weren't in the same house when your mother-in-law got going. I bet they were relieved that you were in here at the time." And when I burst out crying she patted me, saying, "They'll likely be in soon. Don't worry. Don't worry." '

Her face flooded with tears and he steeled himself not to draw her near to him, but just took her hand and patted it, saying, 'There now. There now. Don't cry like that, please. If he sees you upset it'll only make him worse. And . . . and you've got the baby to think about.'

'By the way' - she was drying her face now - 'where's Stephen? I haven't seen him.'

'Oh, he's been in bed these last few days. He's been having accidents again, you know. I think he heard Lily and Peggie talking about the likelihood of this place being sold and the old fear about being put in a home has erupted again. He's been threatened with that so many times. I've tried to tell him that wherever Dad and Maggie go, he'll go with them. You understand about them, don't you, Annette?'

'Well, I do now, Joe, if I didn't before. I must admit I was a bit surprised, but I don't blame him, either of them. Oh, no, I don't blame them, Joe.' She squeezed his hand

tightly and paused before she said, 'Do ... do you think Don's mind is becoming affected too?'

'His mind? What makes you think that?'

'Well, it happened as soon as I put the baby into his arms that . . . that he held it up as if showing it to somebody, and he looked towards the foot of the bed and said, "And this is the result." It ... it was as if he was seeing someone. You don't think . . . ?'

He took her other hand now and pressed them between his two large ones, and he shook them gently as he said, 'He's not going off his head, dear; it's just that he imagines his mother has come back. And it isn't just imagination, you know, for at times I too feel she is here. Now don't . . . don't. Please . . . please don't shake like that. You have nothing to fear. She's gone. She's dead. But you know how she felt about him, and these things happen whether we like to believe them or not. I wouldn't have believed it a few months ago. In fact, I wouldn't have believed any of this.' His voice was harsh now. 'But I know as well as he does that she's there in that room. And that's what's troubling poor Stephen as well. We try to put it down to the fact that he doesn't know what's going to happen to him, but whereas once he wouldn't leave Don's side, he now seems afraid to go into the room. The last time he was there he actually wet his pants on the spot. Now, that's never happened before. Did you feel anything strange when you went in?'

'No. No, I didn't. Perhaps I hadn't been in the room long enough. I was only so pleased to see him.'

'Well, if he does mention it to you don't let him see that you're afraid. Just tell him that she can do him no harm. And you know, it's odd, but I'm sure she doesn't want to do him any harm; she just wants him. There's one thing,

though, I know, and I've got to say this, that once death comes to him she'll be gone too, because it's mostly in his mind.'

'But if it's mostly in his mind how do you too feel that she's there?'

'Because it's in my mind as well, I suppose. Love and hate can create a sort of ethereal body. At least, that's how I've explained it to myself: there's the three of us, three men. Don's love, or any feeling he had for her, turned to hate because of her abnormal obsession with him. As for me, her attitude towards me over the years created dislike. And yes, that could have bordered on hate too. But in Stephen's case it's fear: fear has created her for him. Well' - he sighed - 'that's the only explanation I can give. But what the three of us know is that her presence is still in that room. But the strongest emotion is between her and Don, and through this he almost sees her, if he doesn't actually see her. But as I said, once he goes .. . and he'll go in peace, she'll no longer be there. Nor, I imagine, will she be able to hold him, for there'll be no coming together.'

'That's an odd thing to say, Joe.' Her voice was quiet. 'It's against all the tenets of our religion, isn't it? The coming together, the meeting up with the loved ones, the forgiveness of sins, life everlasting, the mansions of God. What do you say to all that?'

'That it's mostly myth. Don't look surprised. Yes, I know I attend Mass, I go to Confession, I say the Rosary. But I'm protesting all the time. I've talked it out with Father Ramshaw and in his kindly, God-like way he tells me the doubts will pass. Every true Christian goes through this stage, he says. Well, I've been through it for some time now and all that has happened is the doubts have become almost certainties. Still, it takes strength to throw

over God, to do away with him altogether, and I doubt if I'm all that strong. But, don't look so worried.'

'I'm not worried, Joe, I'm only surprised, because you've put into words the feelings I had in the convent. Some of those nuns were like angels, some like devils. And if it hadn't been for Father Ramshaw I would have rebelled openly some time ago; especially after a rating from Father Cody. And do you know, that man tackled me about my sin, Don's and my sin together, and he told me I should do a long penance and berate my flesh.'

'He didn't! You should have told Father Ramshaw about him.'

'Oh, I don't think Father Ramshaw needs to be told about him. Odd, isn't it?' She smiled now. 'I know that those two hate each other like poison. Disciples of God and living in the same house and can't stand the sight of each other. Oh, but what does it matter? That's all beside the point really.'

'Yes, dear. Yes, it is. Now come on, have something to eat, then as the nurse said, you go back and you feed Flo. . . . They went off this morning, you know.'

'Yes, I know. They called in at the hospital again.'

'They didn't!'

'Yes. Yes, they did.'

'That was nice of them. I thought they were going straight on. Anyway, you're going to have a rest, but not in that room. You're going upstairs. Peggie had already fitted up a guest-room with a dressing-room attached, and now she's fixed that up as a kind of nursery. So it's all ready for you.'

'Oh, that is nice.' She rose now and went towards the dining table; then quietly she asked, 'Have you been along to the cottage lately, Joe?'

'Yes, I've looked in at least every other day. I had business with a client up that way, so it was easy. And I don't know why it's called a cottage, with nine rooms set in an acre and a half of land. It's like a little manor house. You'll be happy there, dear.'

She looked at him for a long, long moment, but said nothing; nor did he, for he felt it had been a tactless remark to make: happy in a nine-roomed house on your own with a baby.

*3

From the moment of Annette's and the baby's return Don seemed to blossom, inasmuch as his breathing became easier. He complained less of pain; the doctor seemed pleased with him; and he exchanged quips with Father Ramshaw. And a fortnight after Annette's arrival home his father stepped into the room and he held out both arms to him and returned the hug that Daniel gave him.

One side of Daniel's face was still discoloured, he walked with a slight limp and it was evident that he had lost some weight.

They talked about everything that didn't matter until the day wore on and it was time to say good-night; then, appertaining to nothing that had gone before, Daniel, from where he was sitting at the side of the bed, leant his elbows on the coverlet, took hold of his son's hand and said, 'She's not here. Get it into your head, lad, she's not here. She's gone forever.'

BOOK: The year of the virgins
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