Mary Ann and Bill Read online

  ‘Oh, we’re not worried about Diana.’ Mrs Blenkinsop was walking towards the French windows. ‘She can take care of herself.’ She cast a smiling glance back to her daughter before going onto the terrace and calling, ‘Roland. Brian. Lunch. Bring them in…lunch.’

  Mr Blenkinsop now seated himself beside Mary Ann and began to talk to her. She had a feeling that he was trying to be kind, going out of his way to be kind. When she looked at him she thought he was in much the same position as herself, being small. Perhaps he was being kind because he knew what it felt like to be confronted by the big types, either male or female.

  His effort was checked by the avalanche of his four boys and their sister, Susan, together with her own two. They all came into the room yelling at the top of their voices; even Rose Mary and David. She wanted to check them but resisted. And then Rose Mary had hold of her hands, gabbling, ‘Oh, Mam! Mam, you must come and see them. They’re beautiful, lovely, aren’t they, David?’

  ‘Oh yes. Come and see them, Mam, will you, ’cos they’re super.’

  She smiled her bewilderment not only from one to the other, but also to the group of Blenkinsops, who were all around the couch now, and they explained in a chorus, ‘The puppies…The Grip’s had puppies.’

  Fancy calling a dog, a female dog, The Grip; yet she remembered her one and only encounter with the family’s bull terrier, and the name, she imagined, wasn’t entirely inappropriate, although they had assured her The Grip was as gentle as a kitten…with people. With other dogs it was a different matter, they explained. Apparently, she had earned her title from her power to hang on to any four-footed creature which earned her dislike. But now The Grip had had puppies. It was odd that anything so fierce was capable of motherhood. Mary Ann widened her eyes and showed pleased surprise and assured them that she would love to see The Grip’s puppies.

  ‘But not before lunch,’ said Mrs Blenkinsop emphatically, as she shooed the children into the hall, with orders to wash.

  A few minutes later they were all in the dining room, and Mary Ann was both impressed and saddened by the quality of the silver and china used, and the chips and cracks in the latter. And she was almost horrified at the toe and heel indentations on the legs of the period table and chairs. It was all right being free and easy, she thought, but the condition of this beautiful furniture almost amounted to vandalism. But, as her dad was always saying, it took all kinds.

  The lunch, she considered, was very ordinary, and the food would have been completely dull if it hadn’t been enlivened with wine. She took note that Corny allowed his glass to be filled up three times, and also that the two Blenkinsop girls and Roland were allowed wine, and the boy was only thirteen. By the end of the lunch she told herself this was an entirely different way of living from her own; nevertheless, she preferred her own every time.

  The children’s demands that they should go to see the puppies cut short any lingering over coffee, and Mary Ann wasn’t displeased that they should get outside, because she was finding herself irritated by Diana Blenkinsop’s supercilious attitude, and more so because it seemed lost on Corny, for he was talking to her as if he had known her all his life; and she had even condescended to laugh at something he said.

  But one thing Mary Ann told herself as she walked down the garden by Mr Blenkinsop’s side, nodding politely as he talked without really paying much attention to what he was saying, was that when they left here she must say nothing detrimental about Diana Blenkinsop. She must keep her spleen to herself; all the books told you that you got off on the wrong foot when you showed your jealousy. Not that she was jealous. Oh no; it was only that Corny had seemingly found Diana Blenkinsop attractive, and if she should voice the opposite view about her it would only show her less attractive by comparison…That’s what all the books said.

  They came to the paddock and the stables, and here, in a wire-netting enclosure, were The Grip and her six offspring.

  The barking and yapping of the young puppies was overlaid by the exclamations of admiration from the children.

  Mr Blenkinsop stooped down and picked up one of the puppies and, putting it into Rose Mary’s arms, said, ‘There. What does he feel like?’

  ‘Oh, Mam! Mam!’ Rose Mary was laughing hysterically as she strained her face away from the puppy’s tongue and endeavoured to hang on to his wriggling body.

  ‘She may drop it,’ said Mary Ann anxiously, and Mr Blenkinsop said, ‘It’s all right, I’ve got him. But she mustn’t drop this one because he’s the prize pup. Thirty-five guineas’ worth there. He goes tomorrow.’

  ‘Thirty-five guineas!’ Corny was making appreciative movements with his head.

  ‘Yes. It seems a lot,’ said Mr Blenkinsop, ‘but she’s a thoroughbred. And what’s more, I’m going to be out of pocket by the time they all go. You have no idea…I’m telling you you’ve no idea what it takes to feed these youngsters. But, thank goodness, they’ll all be gone by the end of the month, with the exception of Bill there.’ He pointed to where David was scratching the tummy of one of the pups who was lying on its back. ‘He’s the runt.’

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Mary Ann asked politely.

  ‘Oh, nothing really, except that his chest is too broad. It’s supposed to be broad—these brindles are noted for their chests, but they’ve got to have legs to support them, like this one here.’ He took the puppy from Rose Mary’s arms and held it up. ‘You see, his front legs are as straight as broom shanks, but when Bill there grows, his weight will make him bandy. But he’s full of life. He’s a lad, is Bill.’

  ‘Dad!’ Amid the hubbub David’s voice went unheard. ‘Dad! Dad!’ He tugged at his father’s sleeve.

  ‘Yes, what is it?’ Corny bent over David, and David looked up into his father’s eyes, then down at the puppy lying on its back. ‘Aw-w! I don’t know about that.’ Corny straightened up; then looked at Mary Ann and said under his breath, ‘He’s after a pup.’

  Mary Ann gave him one telling look. A pup indeed! She had enough to put up with without a dog going mad round the house. Oh, no! She was about to turn away in the hope of drawing her offspring with her when David’s voice hit her, crying loudly, ‘Mam! Mam!’ And she looked down at him and said under her breath, ‘No, David.’

  But Rose Mary had picked up the scent now. Standing close to Mary Ann she caressed her hand and looked up at her pleadingly, saying, ‘Couldn’t we, Mam? Couldn’t we?’

  ‘No! And that’s final. And stop it.’ Mary Ann was hissing now.

  It would seem that Mr Blenkinsop had not heard any of the exchanges, at least he gave a good imitation of being unaware of what was going on, for, stooping down, he picked up the now bounding puppy and, bringing it over the wire, held it in front of Mary Ann and said, engagingly, ‘Can I make you a present of him?’

  ‘WH…!’ Mary Ann swallowed, blinked her eyes, glanced wildly around her, then was forced to take the puppy into her arms, and her acceptance or refusal was drowned by the shrieks of delight from both Rose Mary and David, and these were echoed by the entire male side of the Blenkinsop family.

  ‘Oh good. I’m glad you’re going to have Bill,’ cried Roland; and Brian, endorsing his brother’s words, said, ‘We wondered what would happen to him. We wouldn’t be able to keep him, you see, not with The Grip. Sort of mother and son, you know.’

  And so Mary Ann, who didn’t want a dog, who had never really been fond of dogs, well, not since she was a child, who felt herself cramped and restricted in the confines of her four small rooms, and whose life at the moment seemed full of drudgery and empty of anything creative, was now to be saddled with a dog, and, of all breeds, a bull terrier, which type was known for its ferocity. She’d go mad. And this, without taking into account the future, in which Diana Blenkinsop portended to move large. But with eleven people all milling around, all expounding in different ways on Bill’s virtues, what could you do but just smile? She was still smiling when Diana, staring her straight in the face, said, ‘Ru
nts are always unpredictable, but the best of luck.’ Whereupon, Mary Ann had an almost uncontrollable desire to reach up and slap her face. Eeh! She’d be glad when she was home.

  It was a quarter to one when Corny was roused from a deep sleep by a small hand on his face and a voice whispering, ‘Dad! Dad!’

  ‘Yes…yes. What is it?’

  ‘It’s Bill, Dad. He’s howling. He’s crying.’

  ‘Look, Rose Mary!’ Corny too was whispering hoarsely now. ‘Go on back to bed.’

  ‘But he misses his mam, Dad. And it’s the first night. Could we not bring him up…?’

  ‘No! Definitely no. Get back to bed.’

  ‘But, Dad.’

  ‘Look. Do you want your backside skelped? Go on; you’ll wake your mam, and David.’

  ‘David’s awake, Dad; he’s on the landing, top of the stairs.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ The words were muttered thickly as Corny dragged himself out of bed, and, pushing Rose Mary before him, he groped his way out of the dark room and onto the darker landing.

  ‘David!’

  ‘Yes, Dad.’

  ‘Get yourself back into bed this instant.’

  There was no movement from the head of the stairs.

  ‘Do you hear me?’ Corny felt his son groping his way across the landing; then he followed him into the small room and switched on the light, and, looking from one to the other, he said, ‘Bill’s not coming upstairs. That was agreed last night. Now, wasn’t it? He’s got to sleep downstairs. You know what your mother said; you were lucky that she brought him. Now don’t press your luck, and get back into bed, both of you!’

  The last three words were like the crack of a whip. With a lift of his hand he hoisted David into the upper bunk, and without another word he switched off the light and groped his way back into his own room again.

  Corny hadn’t slept side by side with Mary Ann for eight years not to know when she was asleep or awake, even if she was silent. As he wriggled himself down under the clothes he said, ‘Don’t say it,’ and for answer she replied very quietly, ‘I’m going to say it. You evaded the issue when we came to bed by very conveniently going straight to sleep, but I saw you giving Mr Blenkinsop the wink to pass the puppy on to me. You wanted that dog as much as they did, and you saw the only way to get it was to put me on the spot. Well now, you got your way and what are you going to do about it? Just listen to him.’

  For a moment they lay and listened to the heart-rending howls that came up through the floorboards from the garage where Bill was ensconced in a blanket-lined wash-basket. Corny, making no reference to the duplicity of which he was accused, grunted, ‘He’ll get used to it.’

  ‘But what are we going to do until he does? He’s been like that for the last two hours.’

  ‘You’ve been awake all that time?’ He turned quickly and drew her into his arms, where she lay unyielding against him. ‘I’m sorry, love; I’m sorry. But…but they wanted him. Yes, yes, I know I did an’ all. I’ve always wanted a dog about the place, and he’s cute. You’ll get to like him. He’s cute.’ He squeezed her.

  ‘O-o-o-o! Ow’ll! Wow! Wow! WO-OW-OOO!’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Corny pulled the clothes over their heads, and as Mary Ann pushed them back again she remarked coolly, ‘You’ll get used to it.’

  ‘Now, look; don’t take that attitude. Very likely I will get used to it. I’ll have to, won’t I? But don’t be snooty and so damn self-righteous.’

  Corny turned round onto his other side again and again put his head under the bedclothes …

  At half past two, dragging on his trousers with such ferocity that he pulled off the brace belt, he went from the room and down the stairs and, unlocking the garage, grabbed up the yapping pup and marched upstairs with it to the kitchen where, dragging a cushion from a chair, he put it inside the fender, near the oven, and plonked the now quiet animal into the middle of it. Bending down close to it, he growled, ‘Now, another word out of you, just one more peep, and out of the window you go.’

  Bill stared up at Corny with his small round eyes, then he opened his mouth and yawned widely. He understood. The first round had been won.

  Mary Ann arose at half past six. She didn’t always get up so early, and after the night she’d had she needed extra rest, but something told her that she should rise. Perhaps it was the small scufflings from behind the wall to the right of her.

  When she entered the kitchen she stopped dead, absolutely dead, and so did Bill.

  Bill was in the middle of disembowelling the armchair; he was covered all over with kapok, and he gave two delicate sneezes to rid his nose of the fluff adhering to it; then he jumped down from the chair and bounded towards her. Mary Ann let him jump around her feet as she leant against the door, with one hand on the knob and the other across her mouth. Inside the fender was the remains of a cushion; on the hearthrug was what had once been a tea towel; the woollen hand-knitted tea cosy that she had bought from the bazaar just a few weeks ago had almost returned to its original state of unknitted wool. Great lengths of it stretched from one corner of the room to the other, and the legs of a chair had taken on the appearance of a loom. All that was left of the tea cosy was the pink woollen rose that had adorned the top. And pervading this chaos was a peculiar smell. It was what her da had been wont to call a widdle scent. He had said that animals didn’t smell, they just gave off a widdle scent.

  Widdle scent! Three puddles and two mounds of dark matter, the result, no doubt, of the extra mince with which the children had fed him.

  ‘Get away!’ Her voice was almost a thin scream. She slapped her hand so hard on his rump that he was bowled over sideways. But Bill was a friendly, forgiving chap, and he showed it by again jumping up at her. For this show of affection he found himself being lifted by the scruff of the neck and thrown into the scullery and the door banged on him. Well, well; that’s what a fellow got for simply passing the time until people turned up.

  Mary Ann now stalked into the bedroom, and when she ripped the bedclothes from her husband he sat bolt upright, spluttering, ‘W…what…What is it? What’s the matter?’

  ‘Would you mind coming into the kitchen?’

  ‘Aw, Lord!’ Corny flopped back onto the bed again. ‘He’s wet. All right, he’s wet. I’ll wipe it up.’

  ‘Corny!’

  He opened his eyes, there was a danger signal in that note. He got out of the bed and followed Mary Ann out of the room and into the kitchen. There he took one look then closed his eyes tightly and muttered deeply and thickly, ‘Oh, Christopher Columbus!’

  When he opened his eyes again she was standing a yard from him, the tears glazing her cheeks, and he went to her and said softly, ‘I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry. I’ll keep him downstairs. I promise.’

  ‘Have…have you seen the chair?’

  He looked towards the disembowelled chair. Then drooping his head, he said, ‘I’ll get you another. This very day, I’ll get you another, a better one.’

  ‘It’s…it’s one of a pair. It’s spoilt the pair.’ Her whole face was trembling.

  ‘I’ll get you a pair. It doesn’t matter about that, but…but I’ll kill him for this, see if I don’t. Where is he?’

  Corny would have had to be deaf not to know where Bill was, and he made for the scullery door, only to stop before opening it and say, ‘I’d better get my things on first.’

  A few minutes later, carrying Bill by the scruff of the neck, he took him downstairs and thrust him into the basket in the garage, and, holding him there, he addressed him. ‘Look here. The quicker you learn to put up with this the better for all concerned. This is your home. Now understand that, this basket, this place.’ He beat the side of the basket with his hand and rolled his head to indicate the garage.

  Bill, sitting on his hindquarters, now thrust out the tip of a very pink tongue, and, lifting his right front paw, he wagged it at Corny, and Corny rubbing his hand across his brow, said, ‘Aw, man, it’s no use; you won’t la
st a week at this rate, she won’t put up with it. And I don’t blame her. Look, if I’d had any idea of what you were going to do upstairs you could have yelled your lungs out; and you will the night.’

  The paw was still flapping at him, and after raising his eyes heavenwards and, shaking his head, he took it and said, ‘All right, all right. But I’m warning you. You’ve got to stay mum if you want to last out here.’

  Chapter Three: Like Mother Like Daughter

  This was the third time Rose Mary had been to confession. She had been frightened the first time, but she wasn’t any more. Father Carey was nice, but she wouldn’t like to go to Father Doughty. Eeh, no! They said he gave you awful penances like standing on your head and walking on glass in your bare feet, but Father Carey just said, ‘Say one Our Father and three Hail Marys.’ She liked Father Carey. She was trying to explain to him now a particular kind of sin; the sin of telling her mother she didn’t love her while all the time she loved her a lot, heaps and heaps.

  ‘Why do you keep telling your mother you don’t love her?’ The priest’s voice was very soothing.

  ‘’Cos of Bill.’

  ‘Bill?’

  ‘Our dog.’

  ‘OO-h!’

  ‘Mam says we’ve got to get rid of him.’

  ‘She doesn’t like Bill?’

  ‘No; ’cos he tore up the chair and the tea towels, and he howls all night, and he makes widdles and dollops all over the place if he’s let upstairs.’

  The priest cleared his throat and it was some seconds before he was able to say, ‘Well, you must train your dog.’

  ‘He doesn’t want to be trained, Father; he jumps all over you and licks you. He’s nice, Father.’