Bill Bailey's Daughter Page 2

  ‘Oh, the big fellow would have gone out and hauled somebody in. You would have managed. By the way, how’s his pains?’ She laughed and Fiona replied with a chuckle, ‘He had cramp in the night. He had to get up and stamp his feet on the floor.’

  ‘He’s having a bad time carrying.’

  They both laughed out loud now. Then Fiona, becoming more serious, said, ‘If I’ve had worries at all during this period they’ve been about him. I’ve picked the wrong time to become pregnant. It would have to be, wouldn’t it, just as he’s starting work on the estate.’

  ‘But that’s going well, isn’t it? Bert says it was a brainwave of Bill’s to put the eleven disciples’—she pulled a face—‘in charge of gangs. They’re already vying with each other as to who can get the most work or the best work out of their lot. Bert says it’s funny to hear them in the cabin. He calls the cabin the hen cree. One of them threw some water over him yesterday because he said they were like hens with their first brood. And yet, you know, he’s just as bad with his lot. Anyway, what would you like to eat besides apples? You’re getting no more apples today; there’ll be pips sprouting in your ears.’

  ‘I don’t feel very hungry, Nell.’

  ‘You must eat; you’ve got to feed it. By the way, have you decided on names?’

  ‘Yes. If it’s a boy it’s going to be Samuel.’

  ‘Samuel?’

  ‘Yes. Sam…u…el. Because, as Bill says, if it wasn’t for the Samuel that I heard pounding up the stairs a moment ago he wouldn’t be here today.’

  ‘And if it’s a girl?’

  ‘Angela.’

  ‘Angela. That’s nice. Did he choose that?’

  ‘Yes, it was his idea. Because, as he says, it’ll be his first real child and it will be like an angel to him.’

  ‘Well, well. The big fella being sentimental.’

  ‘You don’t know the half.’

  ‘Oh.’ They both turned towards the door as the footsteps came running across the hall. ‘Here comes the lady of the house.’

  Katie had put on inches during the year. Every time Fiona looked at her she saw herself as a girl of eleven, straight, slim, luxuriant brown hair, deep brown eyes with arched brows and a well-shaped mouth, wide but matching the face. She could not imagine, though, that her tongue could ever have been as caustic as her daughter’s could be at times.

  ‘Hello. Hasn’t it come yet, Mam?’ Katie grinned down on Fiona; then, with a swift movement, she put her ear down onto her mother’s stomach, saying, ‘How’s the alarm clock?’

  ‘Get out of the way.’ Fiona laughingly pushed her upwards. ‘I’ve had enough of that for one day.’

  ‘The juniors have been at it?’

  ‘Yes, the juniors have been at it.’

  ‘Their lugs want scudding.’

  ‘Katie!’

  ‘Well, Dad says that.’

  ‘He might, but it doesn’t sound the same on your tongue.’

  ‘Not ladylike, eh?’

  ‘Certainly not ladylike, not even girl-like.’

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘They’re upstairs with Sammy.’

  ‘Oh. Is he here again? I thought that when Sir Charles let them have the posh bungalow near Gran’s we’d seen the last of him. Why doesn’t he bring his bed?’

  ‘Katie!’ Fiona was wagging her finger at her daughter now. ‘I’ve told you. We owe a great deal to Sammy. Never forget that. I won’t and your father won’t. So remember, we are all together and doing well and only through Sammy.’

  ‘I’m not allowed to forget it.’

  ‘Why do you dislike him?’

  ‘I don’t dislike him, Nell. It’s only that…well, there seems to be only Sammy in this house.’

  She now turned a painful glance on her mother and Fiona said, ‘Oh, Katie, you know that isn’t true.’

  ‘It is, Mam. And you know when Dad comes in, what does he say? “Has Sammy been round?” At one time he used to yell out, “Where’s my gang?”’

  ‘He still does.’

  ‘Yes, but then he says, “Has Sammy been round?” His gang isn’t sufficient for him now.’

  ‘Come here, Katie.’

  Slowly Katie went to her mother, and Fiona, hitching her heavy body to the side, pulled her daughter down onto the edge of the couch and, putting her arm around her shoulders, she said, ‘Your dad cannot forget that if it wasn’t for Sammy he would now be lying very deep in that frightful tip. And, you know, Sammy hasn’t a real home.’

  ‘Well, it’s a nice bungalow. It’s bound to be when it’s in the same crescent as Grandma’s.’

  ‘But he hasn’t a mother.’

  Katie’s mouth now went up at the corner and she turned her head half to the side before she said, ‘Grandma’s trying to sit that exam, isn’t she, Mam?’

  ‘Katie! What put that idea into your head?’

  Fiona had lifted her gaze towards Nell as she turned away, aiming to suppress her laughter, and now, looking back at her daughter, she said, ‘Your grandmother is only trying to be kind.’

  ‘That’s a change, isn’t it?’

  ‘Katie, what’s come over you?’

  ‘Nothing, Mam, only you know she’s set her cap on that big rough fella.’

  ‘She hasn’t.’

  ‘Mam, please.’ Katie pulled herself away from her mother’s hold now, saying, ‘I’m older than Mamie; I’m nearly twelve.’

  ‘You’re not nearly twelve, you’re eleven.’

  ‘All right, all right, but on my next birthday I’ll be twelve. I’m not a child.’

  ‘You are a child, Katie. You are still a child.’

  ‘Mam, don’t say that. I’ll tell you something. Sue’s mother talks to her about everything. Everything!’

  ‘What do you mean by everything?’

  ‘Well, you know, men and things.’

  Fiona felt the colour rising from her neck to her forehead, and, her voice stiff now, she said, ‘I’ve told you all that is necessary along those lines. You know you haven’t got to speak to strange men.’

  ‘Oh, that!’

  When her daughter flounced round and made down the room Fiona shouted, ‘Katie! Come here!’

  But her daughter took no heed and marched out of the room.

  Fiona brought her hands tightly together and held them on top of the mound of her stomach. Had she really said she had never felt so peaceful in her life before or so happy? Yes, she had said that because that’s how she felt. But had happiness blinded her to what was going on under her nose with her daughter? With Willie? Even with Mamie? The only one of her family who remained the same was Mark. Sometimes she forgot that her elder son was not yet thirteen years old for both his conversation and concern seemed at times to be that of a young man. She wished he was home, or better still Bill, but it would be half past six before he arrived. But she should be thankful it was that early in the evening when he came home now, for during the summer months it had been nine o’clock and sometimes later. He’d had a fortnight’s holiday after coming out of hospital; then he seemed to have spent the next three months on the site for this was his first really big concern and he was determined that, as far as it lay in his power, everything would go right. And up till now, except for small hitches mostly concerned with the weather, everything had gone according to plan.

  But no matter what time he came home now, almost immediately after his meal he would go into the study and work until midnight. Sometimes she would sit quietly in a chair watching him; and only recently she had said to him, ‘If the plans are all worked out in the beginning why must you keep going over them?’

  And he had answered, ‘Because you can always better somebody’s idea of the best. And I’ve discovered, what can look all right on paper can appear a mess when set up in a room, particularly bathroom fittings. Oh, and a thousand and one other things.’ And when she had asked, ‘Doesn’t McGilroy object if you alter his plans?’ he had replied, ‘Oh yes. But he can object as much
as he likes; if a thing doesn’t look right to me then it comes out. The second time that happened we began to see eye to eye. But I still feel I cannot and must not relax.’

  ‘He seems a nice man,’ she had said.

  He had grinned at her as he replied, ‘He’s always nice to women. Which reminds me, have you had your caller today?’ And to this she had answered, ‘Oh, Bill.’

  She could never understand how he had become jealous of Rupert, Sir Charles Kingdom’s secretary.

  After the near tragedy that happened to Bill she took it as an act of kindness that the young man should drop in when he happened to come into town. And Bill did too at first, until on two occasions he himself happened to pop in out of hours when on his way to a board meeting in Newcastle. On the first he found her dispensing tea to Mr Meredith who had insisted he be called Rupert. And nor were his feelings softened when on the second occasion Rupert Meredith was accompanied by Sir Charles himself.

  When later on that particular evening he had said, ‘What’s his game?’ she had stood up full of indignation, then pushed out her stomach, saying, ‘I’m alluring, aren’t I?’ And to this he had answered, ‘Yes, and so is your condition to some blokes…’

  She now lay back and stared at the fire. She had two weeks to go before the child was due. If all went well she’d be in hospital a fortnight today. And she was longing for the fortnight to pass. But of course, it might happen beforehand or even after. But whatever time it came she could see herself—as she had pictured hundreds of times since first knowing she was pregnant—watching Bill holding his own child. Only she knew how much this child was going to mean to him. She could laugh at the memory of that incident, in this very room, when she told him that he was to be a father, and for a moment she had imagined that he was going to pass out. And he had just returned from hospital that day, and so he could easily have done just that.

  Her thoughts were disturbed by the pounding steps running down the stairs, and then the sitting-room door being unceremoniously thrust open and Willie coming in, accompanied by his friend Sammy Love.

  ‘Mam, Sammy can’t stay to tea tonight.’

  ‘Oh. Why? Why not, Sammy?’

  ‘Aw, ’cos.’ The round brown eyes and the pugnacious face were riveted on the mound of her stomach.

  ‘Because what?’

  ‘Well, me da says I’ve got to get in and get the tea ready like I used to do in the flat so’s your ma won’t come in and start messin’ about.’

  Fiona nipped on her lip to stop herself from smiling, and she kept her voice level as she said, ‘Does…does my mother make it her business to go in often?’

  ‘Aye, she does. Well, she did when me da left the key in the gutter. She asked him to at first like, ’cos she said she wanted to tidy up for us. But now me da says we mustn’t put her out, take advantage like. Is it still kicking?’ He now pointed to the mound. And Fiona, after a slight gulp, said, ‘Yes; yes, Sammy; it’s still kicking.’

  ‘Let him hear it, Mam, the bumpety-bump.’

  ‘Oh no, of course not.’ She looked from her son to the nine-year-old auburn, nearly red-haired boy, and, seeing the defensive look she had come to know so well during the time when she could barely stand the sight of him, she said, ‘You…you wouldn’t want to hear its heart beating, would you, Sammy?’

  There was a pause before he answered, ‘Aye, if it’s all right with you.’

  ‘Go on, put your head on it.’ Willie pushed Sammy now, and Sammy, turning and looking at his friend and in his inimitable way, said, ‘All right. All right, hold yer hand, don’t rush me.’

  He now took the two steps that separated him from the couch and Fiona; and when she held out her hand to him and he placed his in it he did not immediately bend his head forward towards her stomach but looked at her, his face unsmiling. Then, his head to one side, he slowly lowered it down onto the mound.

  ‘Do you hear it?’

  He did not answer Willie’s excited enquiry but remained still for a moment before straightening up and, looking at Fiona, he said, ‘Ta.’

  ‘You heard it, Sammy? You heard its heart beating?’ Willie’s voice was full of excitement.

  ‘Aye. Well, I heard a kind of knock, knock, knock. That would be it like?’ He looked at Fiona, and she said, ‘Yes, that would be it, Sammy.’

  ‘I’ll tell me da. He’d be pleased you let me listen to it.’

  ‘Perhaps he’d want to come and hear it an’ all.’

  ‘Willie!’

  ‘I was only kidding, Mam.’

  ‘Well, don’t kid about such things.’

  ‘Me da’s got a new suit.’

  ‘Has he, Sammy? That’s nice. What colour is it?’

  ‘It’s dark blue. He wore it when he went to Mass yesterday mornin’.’

  ‘You went to Mass together?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘It won’t be for long, much more I mean, the year’ll soon be up he says.’

  ‘What do you mean, Sammy? Your father’s only going to Mass for a year?’

  ‘Aye, that’s what he says. He made a promise or somethin’. He said that’s what he owed Him.’

  ‘Owed who?’

  ‘God.’

  Fiona swallowed deeply. Why was it she always wanted to laugh whenever she met this child or his father. She could never see either of them altering. In the months the boy had attended the private school with Willie it had made little impression on him except for the fact that he no longer said ya, or fink, and of course she must admit that his use of strong language had become a little less frequent; only when very excited or angry did he resort to colourful adjectives.

  ‘Me da’s goin’ to get a car an’ all.’

  ‘Is he? Oh, that’ll be nice for you both.’

  ‘I don’t know so much. I won’t be able to drive until I’m seventeen, and then I’ll be old.’

  ‘No, you won’t be old at seventeen, you’ll just be a young man.’

  ‘Aye; I know, but I don’t want to be a young man.’

  ‘Why?’ Fiona’s question was in earnest. And the answer came back in earnest. ‘’Cos then you think about lasses an’ you get married an’ they leave you. Then your troubles start.’

  ‘Oh, Sammy.’ She put her hand out again and caught his, and as she did so she thought. It’s true: your early environment never leaves you. Her own never had. That’s why she could never love her mother, because her mother never loved her. She put out her other hand and brought her son to her side too and, looking from one to the other, she said, ‘When you are both seventeen you will be a pair of rips and you’ll both have cars, racing ones. And the only trouble that’ll happen to either of you won’t come from girls or lasses’—she nodded her head, laughing now into Sammy’s face—‘but from the police for speeding.’

  Willie’s laugh rang out at this, but Sammy only grinned and said, ‘Mine’ll be white like the Pink Panther’s.’

  ‘Mine’ll be red.’ Willie did a zoom over his mother’s head with a twisting hand. But he stopped suddenly when Sammy cried, ‘Don’t do that! You’ll frighten it.’

  Both Fiona and Willie now looked at Sammy, who said, ‘Well, you can. I mean, it was on the telly, t’other night. Some sheep were chased by a dog and they dropped their lambs afore time and the farmer said they were just like humans: give them a shock an’ things went wrong.’

  ‘Oh, Sammy.’ Fiona now swung her leg slowly from the couch and, pulling herself upwards, she said, ‘It would have to be a big fright before a baby dropped out. But thank you for being so protective.’

  As she made her way slowly down the room towards the door, one hand on a shoulder of each boy, she said, ‘Have you ever thought about getting a dog, Sammy?’

  ‘Aye. Me da and me had a row about it just last week. He said I wouldn’t look after it and it would be thrown out and I said, it wouldn’t. But he said, it was cruel to leave a dog in the house all day, an’ that’s what would happe
n to it. Anyway, he said, it would mess the place up.’

  ‘Well you could come home at dinner time and let it out. I’ll get Mr B to have a talk with your dad. How’s that?’

  He looked up into her face in that odd way he had of holding her gaze, then he said, ‘Ta.’ And again, ‘Ta.’

  ‘Miss Slater said you had to say thank you, remember?’

  ‘Aw.’ Sammy pushed Willie none too gently, saying, ‘Don’t you start. I’ll say ta when I like and thank you when I like, so that’s that. I’m goin’ now ’cos me da won’t say ta when his tea’s not ready.’ There was a quirk to his lips now as he glanced at Fiona before pulling open the front door and running down the path, crying as he did so, ‘Ta-ra! Ta-ra!’

  After Willie shouted a similar goodbye, Fiona said as she closed the door, ‘As Sammy has just said, don’t start that. No more ta-ra’s.’ And as he ran from her, making for the stairs, she called after him, ‘Do you hear?’

  He was already halfway up them when he turned and grinned down at her, shouting, ‘So long, Mam! So long.’ And she went into the kitchen saying, ‘So long, Mam! So long!’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘That, Nell, is the result of checking my son from shouting ta-ra after Sammy.’

  ‘I like the sound of ta-ra!’

  ‘You might, but I don’t think it’s in the curriculum at school. Sammy apparently was pulled up today for ta instead of thanks.’

  ‘Oh, my, my! How dreadful!’ Nell gave a short laugh as she nodded towards Fiona. ‘You set that school a task when you got them to take Samuel Love.’

  ‘Oh, that wasn’t hard at the time; he was the town’s hero, don’t forget that. He could have got into Newcastle University at that time and they would have pinned a degree on him.’

  They both laughed now; then Nell said, ‘Get off your feet and sit down.’

  ‘I’ve got to move, Nell; it’s part of the exercise.’

  ‘There’ll be plenty time for you moving when you get rid of that. I’ve never seen anybody so big. It looks as if you’re carrying a young elephant or a whale.’