Goodbye Hamilton Page 8

  I had a cup of coffee; then I lay against the back of the couch and looked from one to the other and said simply, ‘What is it?’

  When I saw the tears well up in Gran’s eyes and she bowed her head, my voice was almost a yell as I cried again, ‘What’s happened? What is it?’ Then I was sitting bolt upright. ‘Sandy! I knew it. He’s gone. He’s dead.’

  ‘No, no, no.’ There were hands patting my shoulders. ‘No, no. He’s in the kitchen.’

  I relaxed and my throat had a piteous sound even to myself as I said simply, ‘Please.’

  Nardy now looked at George and said, ‘You had better start at the beginning.’

  I watched George rub his hand over his mouth and chin two or three times before he said, ‘Well, it was like this, Maisie. The bairns took the dog out. Yes, yes, yes’—he wagged his finger—‘it’s to do with the dog, but rest your mind, he’s there in the kitchen. But listen. As I said, they took him out, on the same walk as you used to take Bill, through the park and into the copse. There, they took the lead off and threw the ball for him; then they chased him and he chased them, in and out of the trees. You know the game he plays. Well, as they said, there they were the three of them, John, Kitty, and Gordon, racing round when they realised they were just racing after each other and the dog wasn’t there. Now, there was nobody else in the copse, not that they could see, and after all it isn’t that big, you can almost see from one end to the other of it when the trees are bare as they are now, except at the far end where the holly’s entangled. And as they said an’ all, coming through the park, the only people they met out with dogs was a woman with an Afghan hound, you know the one, and the fellow from the bottom of the terrace with his bull terrier, an’ two young lads pushing bikes. Anyway, they couldn’t find him, and it was on dark, John even climbed over the wire fence at the side of the copse, you know, the railway cutting. And he went along the line, and even under the footbridge, which is damned dangerous, ’cos the line curves there and the train could have been on him. Anyway, they came back here in a terrible state. We were all in a state.’ He glanced from one to the other. ‘It was black dark by now, but we all went out again looking, every one of us. We knocked on all the doors in the council estate but nobody had seen a white poodle. We went to the police station and they said they would look into it. And when Mam, here, didn’t take much to their casual approach about a dog being lost and did a bit of yelling, as is usual, the one behind the counter became sarcastic and said, “There’s an accident, madam, on the main road to Bog’s End: an oil lorry’s overturned, a car’s been set on fire, two people are known already to be dead, but we’ll stop our enquiry if you insist and see to your dog.” That’s what he said, didn’t he, Mam?’

  Gran merely nodded and George went on, ‘By, lad! I gave him the length of me tongue. Anyway, it’s wonderful what a name can do. I told him who the dog belonged to, an’ first thing next mornin’ there was a copper on the doorstep taking particulars. And speak as you find, from then on they did everything in their power to be helpful. But there was no sign of Sandy. That night there was a big advert in the local paper offering a hundred pounds for his return. Nardy thought of that.’ He nodded towards Nardy. ‘And you wouldn’t believe it’—a small smile touched his lips—‘we had all kinds of dogs brought to the door, didn’t we? May there’—he thumbed towards her—‘she could tell you a tale about the kids that brought a poor little, distempered-white mongrel. But even now we can’t laugh about anything, because it was one hell of a time. As Mam there said, knowing how you went on about Bill, what you would do when you found out about Sandy was past thinking about. Anyway, four full days passed and we were practically giving up hope when the bell rang one night. It was around ten o’clock, and I went to the door.’

  He stopped and stared at me and I stared back at him, waiting, telling myself that Sandy was in the kitchen, what more was there to know? I watched him wetting his lips; then he began again, but slower now. ‘There was nobody at the front door when I opened it, but there on the step was a bundle. It was wrapped up and I didn’t know what it was. But I stepped over it and looked along the street. And in the light of the last lamp I saw two figures running, one what looked like a woman, the other a child. Anyway, I stooped down and I picked up the bundle. My God! Maisie, the shock will be with me till me dyin’ day. It’s no good keeping it from you any more, you’ll see the result of it for yourself in a minute. It…it was Sandy I was looking at, what was left of him.’

  ‘Don’t go on…don’t go on, George. Don’t go on.’ Nardy had put his hand out towards George and his other arm was around me.

  ‘She’ll see soon enough for herself. Now, my dear’—he jerked me tightly to him—‘he’s alive and getting better every day and, given time, he’ll look like himself once more. Just think of that.’

  ‘Will I bring the basket in?’ Mary’s voice was small, and Nardy said, ‘Yes, please, Mary.’

  I didn’t speak; I just waited, and a few minutes later Mary placed the basket at my feet, and I stared down on the thing lying there, which on the sight of me stumbled to its feet and spoke its welcoming sound. I thought my whole being would burst asunder in the agony of pity. This skeleton was my Sandy, because that’s what he was, just a skeleton: there was no hair left on his ears, it had been hacked off close to his head; his head had been shaved and apparently with a blunt razor, for the healing scars were evident; his body showed tufts of hair here and there, but in between them was revealed the bare skin, again with scars on it; the tail had no pompom, it was a piece of bone sticking out.

  Gran was kneeling by the basket now, gently stroking one of the tufts of hair. Her face was awash, as was Mary’s, and it was she who whispered brokenly, ‘He’s eatin’ again though, and…and he barked this morning. He must have known you were comin’.’

  George, now on his hunkers, put his finger under the chin of my poor little beast and said, ‘He’ll be as right as rain, won’t you, laddie? Won’t you?’ Then looking at me, he said, ‘The one who did this wants crucifying. That’s the word, he wants crucifying. To tie a poor beast’s mouth up with tape so he couldn’t bark, or eat, or drink…’

  ‘George!’ Nardy’s voice was firm. Then Gran said, ‘Look. Look, he wants to get on your knee.’

  I stared down into the hairless face. Only the eyes were recognisable, and they were looking at me and in them was a deep plea. I put out my arms and drew him upwards, and when his nose found its way into the old position under my chin I couldn’t bear any more: I let out a cry that ended in a long wail, and when my tears ran onto his face he licked my cheek. Then Gran said, ‘Here, give him to me. Put him in his basket.’ And I gulped, I gasped, and cried, ‘No, no.’

  George’s voice came to me now, saying, ‘He’ll get along like a house on fire from now on. And when you feel a bit rested, lass, you’ll have to look through all the postcards and letters that were sent to you in sympathy like, after the R.S.P.C.A. had put his picture in the paper. Eeh! That inspector said he had never seen anything like it in his life. One thing I do know, when we can prove the maniac who did this, all I can say is, God help him.’

  It was the words ‘when we can prove’, as if the maniac was already known to George, that brought Hamilton into view. He was standing to the side of me. His eyes looked red; there was steam coming from his nostrils and hanging in the air as if encased in frost; and he was repeating a name in my mind. And of a sudden I wanted to be sick. I pushed Sandy into Gran’s arms, and as I made to rise from the couch, I felt the hands come out to help me. I thrust them aside, put my own hand over my mouth and stumbled from the room as quickly as I could …

  It was some hours later when Gran and I found ourselves alone. I had gone to bed early, and here she was sitting by the bedside. Presumably she had come up to say goodnight. ‘Feeling better, lass?’ she said.

  ‘Yes, Gran. I’m glad to be home.’ And to this she said, ‘Well, the best thing I think you can do as soon as you’re
able to travel is to get yourself away back home, to your real home now. You’ve had enough of this end to last you a lifetime.’

  ‘Gran.’

  ‘Aye, lass.’

  ‘Have you any idea who did this?’

  She blinked her eyes rapidly, wetted her lips, then said, ‘Well, you might know we’ve talked this over so often, you could have walked from John O’Groats to Land’s End and our ideas haven’t changed, at least, that is Georgie’s and mine; the others are not in the picture like we are, not even Nardy. But the only one who could really wish you ill, and you know it, is Stickle. And there’s something I didn’t know until this business came up. He’s living now not three streets away from us, in the new council estate. He must have had to sell the cottage. I made a few enquiries here and there and he’s been out of work this past year, until recently. He’s now driving a taxi, part-time. For Corbett’s you know; they have that big garage opposite the supermarket in Bower Street that runs off the market square. I say, I made enquiries. I’m telling a lie, I got this from John. Apparently, Stickle’s two lads go to the same school now and, funny, but he’s chummed up with this Neil, that’s the younger one. This happened after he had a fight with the older one, because…what d’you think? The lad Ronnie, so he’s called, tackled John, saying he was living in their house…this house’—Gran now pointed down to the floor—‘and this was his dad’s house, Stickle’s you know. That was the time John came home with a black eye, and apparently the younger lad, Neil, had a black eye an’ all because he had tried to help John. It seems that the brothers don’t get on. Then, now this is what made us think’—she now leant forward and caught my hand—‘it was the day after the dog had been brought back that the young lad, Neil, asked John if the dog was all right, and John wanted to know how he knew about the dog. And the lad became flustered and said, it was in the papers. And of course it was in the papers…the next night. But this was the first day back at school in the afternoon. Anyway, Georgie passed this on to the police and they went round there. It’s one of these districts where you’re not allowed to keep animals. There was a bit of a shed in the garden, but there was no sign of a dog having been kept in it. But, as our Georgie said, there are plenty of cupboards in the house and if a poor dog’s mouth was tied up with sticky tape, as Sandy’s was…’

  When I closed my eyes tightly, imagining what Sandy had gone through during those three or four days, Gran said, ‘I’m sorry, lass, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t jabber, but I think you should be put in the picture an’ know where you stand. That man’ll never forgive you till the day he dies. And our Georgie swears it’s him, an’ that he’ll get him one day. I hope to God he doesn’t, lass, I do, I hope to God he doesn’t, ’cos he’ll do for him. He swears it must have been the wife and the young lad who brought the dog back. I understand she used to be a spritely piece, quite good looking, but they say she looks a null individual now. And Mary Pratt—you know, the Pratts who lived below us—well, her daughter’s got one of the new council houses only three doors from Stickle’s and from what she can gather there’s hell to pay goes on there every now and again. But he still goes out dressed up like the tailor’s dummy that he once was, and when anybody speaks to him butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, so it’s said. Oh, he’s an actor that one, and the devil’s been his tutor. And, you know, he still has the sympathy of some folks. That’s because you’ve got on and your name’s countrywide now. Some folks cannot bear the thought of anybody moving upwards and being able to change their style of living.’

  ‘Oh, Gran.’ I patted her hand gently. ‘I’m still myself. As for moving up…’

  ‘I know that, lass, I know, but it’s them papers. And of course, you’ve got to admit your mind’s not like everybody else’s. Now is it?’ She punched me gently. ‘And there’s them that wishes they had a mind like it an’ could make money hand over fist…’

  I again closed my eyes. This was life, ordinary life. I was back in it again.

  The following morning, quite early, Mike popped in. He sat on the side of the bed and said, ‘Well now, Mrs Hamilton-cum-Leviston-cum-Carter, how goes it?’

  ‘Sadly I’m afraid, Doctor.’

  ‘Yes, it couldn’t be otherwise but sadly. What you’ve got to realise, my dear, is besides the nice people in this world, such as Nardy, and George, Gran, Mary, and me and Jane, of course, there are fiends, demons,’ his teeth ground together for a moment before he went on, ‘maniacs, lunatics. But it isn’t the lunatics or the maniacs you’ve got to look out for, it’s the fiends and the demons, for they are usually classed as sane. They carry around with them the appearance of normality. They do all the things that every ordinary person does, but there is in them one extra brain cell, as it were, and this brews such evil that makes the minds of us ordinary folks boggle. Howard Stickle is an example, my dear.’

  There was a constriction in my throat. I felt fear sweep over me, it was as if my blood had suddenly been heated to an unbearable temperature. I gasped and gripped the hands that were now holding mine, and then muttered, ‘You too…you think?’

  ‘Yes, I think. Who else would want to harm you? You had thirteen years’ experience of him.’

  Yes, yes, I had thirteen years’ experience of him. As I nodded to myself, there was Hamilton standing by the doctor’s side, towering over him. I raised my eyes and looked at him and as I did so the atmosphere was lightened slightly by the doctor exclaiming, ‘Don’t tell me he’s standing up there again? You know how I used to go for you for looking over my head.’

  ‘Yes, yes. And yes he is standing up there. He’s confirming all you say.’

  ‘I had a word with Gran,’ he said. ‘She told you last night you should get back into the big city as soon as possible, and I’m with her in that. You are too near the source of disaster here and you want to rest. You went through a pretty hectic time, you know. Do you realise that? You should have taken notice of my fellow worker in London and had it done there and then.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right; and if I had I should have saved poor Sandy from that torture.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know so much about that; there’d be other times. You’ve got to remember that: there will still be other times, as long as he lives.’

  ‘What else can he do, except try to kill me?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think he’ll go that far, not openly anyway. That kind of individual thinks too much of his own skin, and at bottom his type are afraid of prison.’

  I smiled wryly as I said, ‘That’s comforting.’

  He laughed; then, standing up, he placed his hand on my head and, his voice soft, he said, ‘I’ve heard it said that no-one should be called upon to pay the price demanded of success. And you know there’s something in that. Anyway, it stems back to the old saying that everything has to be paid for. But in your case, my dear, you paid even before your success. Life isn’t really fair. But then it never is, is it?’ His tone changing, he thumbed at himself, saying, ‘Look at me. If I had my due I should be up in Harley Street raking in the shekels, and being addressed as Mister Kane, instead of having to see to a lot of barmy old girls every morning, expecting me to give them pills to keep them alive, and in the afternoon clinic handling a bunch of young ones, their stomachs sticking out a mile, some of them telling me they don’t know how it happened, or that they never wanted it to happen, with here and there, oh yes, here and there, one in her forties telling me that God has answered her prayers and provided her with a miracle. Eeh, the Immaculate Conceptions I’ve examined. Lass, you wouldn’t believe it.’ He was sounding just like George, and I lay back in the pillows holding my short forearm tight against the wound of my stomach, and I was laughing while at the same time the tears were running down my face.

  Dear, dear, dear, Doctor. Was there anyone like him anywhere?

  Tommy came up on Friday night. He stayed over the weekend and returned with us on the Monday. He and Nardy saw to the luggage. I cradled Sandy, like a baby, in my arms during all th
e journey. He was wrapped in a small white fleecy blanket, and no-one queried but that he was a child, for he lay so quietly under the influence of a pill the vet had given him. And not until I sat in that sun-coloured drawing room, with Sandy lying in his basket to the side of the fireplace and Nardy hovering on one side of me and our dear friend Tommy on the other, did the dreadful feeling of fear gradually slip away from me. And I promised myself it would be a long, long time before I ever visited Fellburn again…But as the weeks went by I had a longing to see Gran and Georgie, so it was arranged that they should come down to us for the weekend. I must have been excited at the prospect, for it was only when thinking of the practicalities to cover the weekend that I remembered Tommy’s mother; and quickly I turned to Nardy and said, ‘Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear!’

  ‘What is it now?’

  ‘She’s coming to tea on Saturday, isn’t she, Mrs Balfour?’

  ‘Yes.’ And then he put his hand over his mouth and repeated my words, ‘Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear! And George and Gran are coming on Friday.’ Our foreheads touched and we repeated, together this time, ‘Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear!’

  Nardy picked them up at the station; and when they entered the hall I was smothered in George’s great arms, then hugged tightly to Gran, while Sandy raced round us barking his head off in excitement. Gran picked him up and kissed him as she cried, ‘He’s his old self again. Thank God. Thank God.’

  I took her hat and coat, then led them into the drawing room and there they both stood speechless and gaped.

  Characteristically coming from the heart, George said, ‘Bugger me, but this is some place!’ And Gran muttered, ‘Eeh, lass! I never dreamed. You described it, but I never dreamed. It’s so lovely, beautiful.’