Harold Read online

  ‘Good form? Wait till you hear.’

  As I related Harold’s school performance Tommy laughed, and when I came to the Frankie Vaughan piece he lay back on the couch and bellowed until the tears ran down his cheeks.

  ‘That boy will go far,’ he said; ‘but you’ve taken on a handful,’ and after passing a handkerchief over his face he remarked nonchalantly, ‘and I think you need a hand with him. What do you say?’

  ‘Oh, Tommy.’

  Quickly now his mood changed, and, gripping me by the shoulders, he pulled me round to him, saying, ‘Don’t say “Oh Tommy”, in that way. It’s over a year now since Nardy went. He understood the situation, you know he did, and he wouldn’t want you to go on living alone. Oh, Maisie, apart from loving you and needing you, I want to look after you. You’ve had so many rough rides, I want to smooth the path ahead.’

  ‘I didn’t have a rough ride with Nardy, it was a magnificent ride. I … ’

  ‘You know what I mean. But now … tell me truthfully now, how do you feel about me? How have you come to feel about me over the past year? Tell me.’

  I looked at him; then looked away and said quietly, ‘I’m very fond of you, I’ve grown more fond of you, but … but, Tommy, I can’t say I love you, not like I did Nardy.’

  ‘I don’t expect you to love me as you did Nardy. There are all ways of loving, all kinds of love; I’d be content with your affection, content with anything as long as I can stay near you.’

  I looked back into his eyes. There must have been an amazed expression in mine that was reflected in my voice as I said, ‘I can never understand it, I never will until the day I die, how men like Nardy and you could love someone like me. I sometimes think it’s as if you were both under some spell that has changed your sight, and you see me as entirely different from what I am, as someone tall, slim, beautiful, gracious … ’

  He laughed gently now, saying, ‘No, our sight was not affected, my dear; we see you as someone small, plain but petite, but with a something that neither of us could define: character is an inadequate word; you have a natural drawing power and something that created in us a tenderness … ’

  Again I said, ‘Oh, Tommy!’ interrupting his flow of words and in doing so bending slightly towards him and lifting my hand with the intention of placing it on his cheek. But the action was fatal; it had the same result as when I was dealing with Harold: Tommy’s arms came round me and for the first time his mouth fell hard on mine, and to my surprise I let it remain there, and I knew that I would not have withdrawn from him but for a voice saying gruffly, ‘I brought your tea.’

  I pulled myself from Tommy’s embrace and there, over the end of the couch, I saw Harold standing in the middle of the room, a cup and saucer in his hand. Making my voice sound ordinary, I said, ‘Well, fetch it here.’

  He approached slowly and the cup rattled in the saucer and the tea spilled over as he handed it to Tommy, who said quietly, ‘Thank you, Harold.’

  Now my boy turned and confronted me.

  ‘He was kissin’ you.’

  I drew in a deep breath, saying ‘Yes, yes, he was kissing me.’

  ‘What for?’

  This I wasn’t called upon to answer because Tommy put in quietly, ‘Because I like her very much, like you do, I love her.’

  ‘You don’t.’

  ‘Oh, but I do.’

  ‘Not like me you don’t. Bloody well you don’t, not like me.’

  ‘Harold!’

  ‘Well, he doesn’t. He’s a big silly bugger all ’cos he’s got a swanky car. Gag says he’s a bloody mani … nac in it. Why’d you let him?’

  ‘Harold!’ My voice was loud. ‘That is enough. Go in the kitchen and give Sandy his tea.’

  ‘Won’t. I’m goin’ ’ome.’ And as he marched away I went to rise from the couch, but Tommy’s hand stayed me. ‘Let him go,’ he said; ‘it was a natural reaction, he’ll get over it.’

  ‘Will he? You don’t know him. Oh dear me.’ I leant back and put my hand to my brow. ‘This has been the most irritating kind of day, right from early morning when I phoned Gran.’ I made to rise again, and again Tommy stayed me, saying, ‘Don’t; he’s likely packing his case.’ He smiled now. ‘He’ll cool off, you’ll see.’ Then he added, ‘One of the reasons I came round early was to ask you if you’d like to see Pack of Lies at the Lyric. Judi Dench and Michael Williams are in it.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t, not tonight, Tommy.’

  ‘Yes, you could. This is the very night to do it, to leave him with the Captain and his lady. He’ll miss you and likely run into your arms when you come back. And you did say he goes off with his father tomorrow, and I know that’s not pleasing him. Now, is it? Well, that should show him on which side his bread’s buttered. Don’t worry, my dear.’ Again he put his arm around me and, looking into my face, he said, ‘I’ve kissed you, really kissed you, short but sweet’—he smiled—‘but it’s a beginning. What say you?’

  I now did put my hand on his cheek and said quietly, ‘Let it go from here then.’

  ‘As you wish.’

  ‘I must go and see what he’s up to.’

  ‘Go on then’—he pushed me from the couch—‘you’re like a little hen with her first chick.’

  A little hen with her first chick. Yes, he was right.

  And he had been right too about packing the case, because there Harold was, in his bedroom, all his underwear from the top drawer of the chest thrown on the bed. He must have just pulled open the second drawer as I entered the room and was about to take out shirts.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked quietly.

  ‘I’m goin’ away, like I said.’

  ‘Oh? Where are you going to?’

  He swung round. ‘I’m goin’ back to Gag’s. I told you.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear that. Well, if that’s the case I’d better go and phone her and prepare her.’ I had reached the door when he said, ‘You don’t like me any more.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ I looked back at him over my shoulder.

  ‘You were kissin’ him.’

  ‘Yes, of course. And I kiss you, don’t I?’

  ‘You shouldn’t kiss him; he’s a bloody big goof; I’ll kick his shins.’ Three or four shirts were sent flying across the bed.

  I was immediately at his side. Gripping him by the shoulders, I shook him hard. ‘Stop acting like a stupid little boy. And you know I could never let you go back to Gran’s. And you know I love you more than anything in the world.’

  ‘More than ’im?’

  ‘In a different way.’

  ‘What different way?’

  ‘I can’t explain; you’ll understand when you’re older. But I do love you, Harold, and I want you, and I don’t want you to go back to Gran’s. I’d miss you so, so much.’

  His lips trembled, his eyes blinked, as I said, ‘If you love me you wouldn’t hurt me by saying you want to go back to Gran’s.’

  ‘I do, I do love you.’ His arms were round my neck and he was gabbling unintelligibly now as the tears rained down his face, and I, stroking his hair and holding him tightly, soothed him, saying, ‘There now. There now. It’s all over. And you know something? Mr Tommy likes you very much. He thinks you’re a very bright boy and will grow up very clever. He was talking the other day about teaching you to swim, really swim. He’s a great swimmer.’

  ‘Don’t want to swim. Don’t like him.’

  I pressed him from me, dried his face, and said, ‘Harold, you must not tell lies, you do like him. You told me you do.’

  ‘Is he gonna live here?’

  ‘Not for a long time, not until you’re older.’

  ‘How older?’

  ‘Oh.’ I thought as I moved my head from one side to the other, then said, ‘Oh, a year, perhaps two.’

  This long length of time seemed to satisfy him.

  ‘And will he sleep with you like Grandad does with Gag?’

  I made myself conside
r for a moment before I said, ‘Well, yes, perhaps.’

  He gave a shake to his shoulder as he turned from me, saying, ‘I’d be growed up by then in a year or two.’

  ‘Yes, of course you will. I tell you what: I’ll put your things away again if you go and tell Mr Tommy that you’re sorry.’

  ‘I can put me own things away.’

  He now grabbed up some of his underwear from the bed and as he did so I saw a pound note lying on the counterpane.

  As yet I gave him only fifty pence for his pocket money at the weekend besides ten pence each day for some sweets. I asked him now, ‘Where did you get that from?’

  He picked up the note and, taking it to the drawer, he pushed it down the side, saying, ‘Somebody gave it to me.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I’m not to tell.’

  I stared at him. If his uncles had given him the money then he would have no compulsion crying aloud their generosity. It was likely his father. But why had he said not to tell? I let the matter pass, but now reverted to a little diplomacy that I found worked with him. ‘Would you mind, Harold,’ I asked, ‘if I went out to see a show with Mr Tommy tonight?’

  Never in his short but wide-awake life had he been deferred to, had anything been requested of him, or his opinion been asked. On the contrary he had been ordered to do this or that and told what would happen to him if he didn’t do it. In consequence, I’d found he’d become quite amenable when deferred to. But I also saw, on this occasion, that his permission was being granted very much against his will, for after flinging some more of his underwear into the drawer, which I immediately straightened, he said, ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I now sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him towards me and, with my face on a level with his, I said softly, ‘I love you very much, the best in the world. Always remember that.’ I didn’t attempt to kiss him as I didn’t want any more tearful embraces, not at this moment, but, pushing him gently away, I said, ‘Go on, tell Mr Tommy you’re sorry you swore at him.’

  Head down, he left the room, and a minute or so later I followed him, but outside the drawing-room door, which was half open, I stopped, arrested by his voice saying, ‘She says you can’t sleep in her bed, not like Mr Nardy, not for two years anyway.’

  ‘She did, did she? Not for two years?’ Behind Tommy’s serious tone there was a note of laughter. There followed a short silence and I was prevented from pushing the door further open by Harold’s voice saying now, ‘She’s my muvver.’

  ‘Yes, I know she is. You’re lucky to have a mother; I haven’t got a mother.’

  ‘You’re too big to have a muvver.’ Oh! That word again.

  ‘I’m not, what about all your uncles? They have a mother.’

  ‘I didn’t mean big, I mean old.’

  ‘I’m not that old.’

  ‘Yes, you are. Anyway, all muvvers die when you grow old, or they leave you before you’re five.’

  ‘They do?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I felt I’d better make my appearance at this stage because Tommy would not be able to work out if mothers died because they were old, or because their sons were getting old, or why they left you before you were five. That last had a deep significance: his mother had left him when he was three.

  I went in brightly, saying, ‘You know, Tommy, Harold and I hadn’t quite finished our tea when you arrived and the cup he brought you must be cold now, so let’s go into the kitchen and brew up again, eh? And Harold will give you a piece of his ginger cake. It’s a very special ginger cake, it came in a tin from Fortnum and Mason’s.’

  Harold turned and hurried from the room, whether at the thought of having another piece of ginger cake or the fact that he was still feeling upset I didn’t know, but Tommy stopped me following him by catching my arm and, bending his long length down to me, whispering, ‘I understand there’s been a discussion about my going into your bed.’

  I slapped at him and walked off, and as he followed me he laughed, and it had a very pleasant sound, a relieved sound …

  At seven o’clock the Captain and his lady entered the flat. As usual he was all muscle and voice, she all dignity. And tonight she was wearing a long dated evening dress and a small silk shoulder cape that had seen better days.

  ‘Well, well, well, here we are again.’

  The Captain was at his jolliest. ‘And where’s my protégé, the future chess champion. Oh, there you are, feller-me-lad. And all ready for bed. My! My!’

  Harold had come from the passageway; he was dressed in his pyjamas and dressing gown. I looked towards him, saying, ‘Say good evening to the Captain and Mrs Beckingtree-Holland.’ Oh that name …

  Harold now approached the Captain and, looking up at him, he said, ‘I’m not goin’ to play chess any more, I want to play rummy.’

  ‘Rummy? Well, well. All right, sir, all right, rummy it shall be. I used to be a dab hand at rummy too. What are we going to play for tonight, pennies or pounds or liquorice allsorts?’ He now put his head back and laughed and his lady wife, turning to me, said, ‘It’s a very wild night, you’re going to be buffeted. But then, of course’—her eyes slid to Tommy—‘you have the car. How fortunate.’ Her gaze rested on me again. ‘About what time shall we expect you back?’

  ‘About eleven I think. And … and I have left some cold salmon in the fridge and the usual accessories. There’s a small gâteau, too.’

  ‘How nice. How nice.’

  I went towards Harold now and, bending down, I kissed him on the cheek, saying, ‘Be a good boy and go to bed at half past eight. You will, won’t you?’

  He gave a small nod of his head but said nothing. I turned from him and amid nods and goodbyes we went out.

  In the lift I laughed gently as I said, ‘You know, I feel that I’ve just left some strict parents and they were allowing me out for the first time.’ And Tommy, putting his arm around me, added, ‘And with a man.’ And for the second time he kissed me on the lips and I felt strangely happy. It was the first time I had actually felt this way since I had lost Nardy and I told myself it wasn’t such a bad Friday after all. But that was only until the middle of the second half of the play when I was seized again by this awful pain in my stomach and chest and had to grip his hand tightly until it subsided.

  Four

  Saturday morning found me tired and listless. I had gone to bed about twelve o’clock the previous night, only to be wakened up at half past with the pain again. It stayed longer than usual this time and left me wide awake wondering what on earth it could be, and I decided when the weather cleared a bit, for they had been having it very rough in the north, I’d make a trip back there and see Mike and get his opinion.

  So I had almost to drag myself from the bed at eight o’clock because there was only an hour before Harold’s father would appear on the scene, and I wanted the child ready; I did not want that man waiting about.

  Harold took a lot of rousing. ‘Come on,’ I said; ‘that’s a good boy; your father will be here shortly.’

  ‘I don’t want to go.’

  ‘But you said he was going to take you to the pictures.’

  ‘I don’t want to go to the pictures with him.’

  ‘Get up,’ I said abruptly. ‘Get washed. Do your teeth, then come and have your breakfast.’

  When later he entered the kitchen and Sandy ran to him to give him his morning greeting by standing on his hind legs and licking his face, for the first time in their acquaintance he was pushed aside while his playmate said, ‘Stop it, you soppy date!’

  ‘Do you want flakes or rice crispies?’

  ‘I don’t want nothin’.’

  Angrily I swung him round. ‘Now look here! I’m having no more of this nonsense. You’re going out with your father and you’re going to behave yourself. He has a right to see you. That was the arrangement. If you try to alter those arrangements you mightn’t like it. Do you understand what I mean?’

  He understood all righ
t because he sat down at the table without another word …

  By nine o’clock he was waiting in the hallway muffled up against the weather. And by five past when his father had not arrived I said, ‘Go and sit in the drawing room where it’s warm.’ He went, still not saying anything, and I went into the kitchen and began to wash the breakfast things.

  When I next looked at the clock it was quarter past nine. Drying my hands, I now made my way to the drawing room, but did not find Harold sitting before the fire with Sandy, who was now curled up on the hearthrug; instead, he was standing before one of the two china cabinets. The door was open and he was handling a miniature chest of drawers, pulling the drawers in and out.

  ‘Harold! Haven’t I told you about touching those pieces. You may look at them but I’ve told you not to take them out.’

  In his haste to put the piece back on the shelf he toppled another over and I snapped at him, ‘See what you’ve done!’

  ‘I was only lookin’.’

  ‘You weren’t looking, you were handling them.’

  As I closed the glass door of the cabinet I thought, I must clean them again.

  Since coming into this house I had followed Nardy’s method of twice a year polishing or washing the collection. There were over three hundred pieces in the two cabinets and not one more than six inches high. Nardy’s father had been a collector of miniatures, and I understood there were some priceless pieces amongst them, especially the miniature silver tea service and the silver and gold Louis suite. This little set was a delight to look at as it was upholstered in green silk tapestry. There was also the copy of an Egyptian coffee jug, two inches high and of a beautiful design in silver, with a filigree lid.

  The cabinet doors were never locked; in fact, there was only one key which, the cabinets being of different designs, did not fit both locks. Whilst going through Nardy’s desk after his death I had found a catalogue of the collection.

  When I turned from the cabinet Harold was standing on the hearthrug, and he looked at me and cried, ‘You’re in a tizz, aren’t you?’