Authors: Yelena Kopylova
he did not look into her eyes as he said, ”It must have been pretty tough for you, and I can
understand just how you felt, so ... well, if it’s all the same to you, we well, we can come
together ... be happy without the usual palaver, for after all. . . .”
Her movement away from him was as quick as a few minutes before it had been towards him.
She stood now gazing at him, one hand pressed across the corner of her mouth pushing it out of
shape; her eyes wide, her small frame bristling, her feet planted firmly apart, she poured her
indignation over him. ”What are you suggesting? I’m not like that! You think because our
Florrie’s loose that I’m the same. Oh yes, you do. Same family, no difference you think. She does
what she does for money and what she can get and because I told you about Mr Maxwell you
think the same of me, I married him for what I could get. Oh yes, you do. Yes, you do.” She
wagged her head at him.
He rose to his feet but didn’t move towards her and he said quietly, ”Listen ! Listen, Hilda,” he
said. ”I just thought you might prefer it that way. Everybody around here knows I was taken in
off the road, what do you think they’ll say when they know I’m aiming to marry you? Taking
advantage, they’ll say. Oh yes, they will.” He jerked his head towards her as if she had denied his
statement. ”I made the suggestion . . . well, with the idea of bringing you comfort without
embarrassing you.”
He watched as, like an injection, each word of his relaxed her, and when she sat down on the
chair, her head and shoulders drooping, he looked towards her hands where one thumb was
passing swiftly backwards and forwards over the front of her fingers. It was as if she were feeling
the texture of some material, giving herself its name by touch alone. He had observed this habit
of hers before, it spoke of nerves.
He went forward now and gripped one of her hands, and as he pressed it tightly against his waist
he felt a deep sense of compassion for her; but there was no ingredient of what he thought of as
love in it. He would have felt the same for some animal that had caught itself in a trap, or
someone who was inflicting self torture upon himself; and that’s what she had done, and was
doing.
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His compassion for her did not lessen when shé^whispered without looking at him, ”I could have
nothing but marriage, Abel. I ... I couldn’t act loose, no matter how I felt.”
’I understand. It” - he swallowed deeply and now had to force out the words that spelt yes - ”it’ll
be as you wish.”
”Oh, Abel. Abel.” She was on her feet now, her arms about him, and when he gave a slight groan
she cried, ”Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and you in pain.” She took one arm away from his neck and
eased her body to the side; then she lifted her face upwards and when he bent his head and put
his lips to hers her eyes were tightly closed, and his own body registered the shiver that passed
through her.
When after a moment she stepped back from him, her face was bright, her eyes shining and her
voice husky as, looking him up and down, she said, ”You’re so big and so gentle. I’ve never
imagined anyone so gentle as you, Abel.”
”You don’t really know me.” He gave a small laugh and a shake of his head.
Swinging round like an excited girl now, she cried, ”Oh, the plans I’ve got. I’ve lain in bed at
night and thought what we’ll do with the business, because I know you like the business. You do,
don’t you?” She turned towards him again and he said quietly, ”I’d be hard to please if I didn’t.”
”We could extend if we could get Esther Burrows to sell that field of hers, and she will have to
sooner or later because her money’s running out. And we could sell petrol; I’ve thought a lot
about that. There’s plenty of places for purnps in the front.”
He had sat down again and now he watched her flinging the tablecloth over the table prior to
setting the table ready for tomorrow’s breakfast, talking all the while and all about the business,
until she stopped and as if she were throwing off the businesswoman and returning to the girl
again, she said, ”Do you think I could be married in white, Abel? I’d love to walk up the aisle
this time in white. I wore just an ordinary costume. . . . What is it?”
She moved slowly towards him where he had risen from the chair, his face wearing a stiff blank
look. His voice, too, held a note of firmness she had not heard before, at least not during this
evening as he said, ”I won’t be married in church, Hilda.”
She was aghast, and showed it in her face, her voice, and even
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%&’-
in her outstretched hands. ”Not in church ? But where ?”
”The registry office.”
”Oh no! No!”
She shook her head wildly. ”Never! Marriage in a registry office? There’s . . .
there’s no holiness or anything good about it.”
”It’s the same as a church ceremony.”
”It isn’t. It isn’t. Abel, I’m surprised at you. And what will the vicar say ? He won’t allow it.
We’ve been church people for years. I’ve . . . I’ve always gone to him for advice, and Mr
Maxwell was a sidesman, we met there. The vicar knew about our . . . well, I mean he knew
about our marriage state and everything. He’d . . . he’d never stand for it.”
”Then I’m sorry, Hilda; but I won’t be married in a church, a church of any kind.”
The flatness of his voice, the note of determination in it that brooked no softening told her
immediately that the only way she could get this man was to marry him in a registry office.
When he made towards the door, saying, ”I’ll go across now. Think about it, there’s no rush,”
she stared at him for a moment before asking, ”Will you be able to manage?”
He nodded and gave her a quiet smile as he answered, ”Yes, I’ll manage all right. Good-night,
Hilda. Don’t worry; there’s been no harm done. If ... if you can’t see your way to meet me in
this . . . well, things could go on as they have been. We’ll talk again in the morning. Good-night.”
The look on her face checked his movement and when of a sudden she ran towards him and held
up her face to his he knew there was no need to wait until the morning for her answer, it was
given.
He sat in a straight-backed chair. The boy stood in front of his knees; his face was white and
pinched looking, and fear was reflected in his eyes and his lips trembled as he said, ”Am I gona
get wrong, Dad?” ”No, no.”
’I only threw some snow at him, Dad. It was only a little bit and it didn’t hurt him and ...”
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”I know. I know.” Abel drew the boy closer, an»now Dick put his hand tentatively on the sling as
he asked, ”Does it hurt bad, Dad?”
”No, I don’t feel anything now, just a slight numbness. But listen, I want to talk to you, and
seriously.”
He stared down into his son’s face; he wetted his lips preparatory to speaking; then clenched his
teeth as if to form a barrier to check the words that must be spoken.
With a slight movement of his head to the side, he said softly, ”Listen. You know what I’ve been
telling you about thinking of your mother as being dead ?”
He waited. ”Well, don’t you remember?” His tone was harsh now.
”Oh yes, Dad, yes.” Dick nodded at him; then his chin jerking upwards, he repeated loudly, ”Yes,
yes, Dad.”
”Well, that’s all right then. But even so we both know, don’t we, that she was alive and well
when we left Hastings ?”
”Yes, Dad.”
”And for all we know she’s still alive ?”
”Yes, Dad.”
”Now listen carefully. When a man has a wife and she’s still alive he can’t marry another
woman. You understand ?”
Dick blinked, looked to the side, then looked back at his father before saying firmly, ”Yes, Dad.”
”Well now, say that this man goes and marries another woman while his wife is still alive, it’s a
sort of... well, a sort of sin and he can be put in prison for it because a man is not allowed to have two wives. You understand?”
Again there was a pause before the boy said, ”Yes . . . yes, Dad.”
Abel now gripped the boy’s shoulder and bending down further still until his face was on a level
with and close to his son’s, he said, ”Mrs Maxwell wants me to marry her. You understand ? She
wants me to marry her. If I don’t, then things will become very strained; in fact we will have to
leave here, and I’d have to look for work elsewhere.” He paused here. ”You know what happened
when I attempted to look for work before, don’t you ?”
The boy’s eyes were wide; the fear had been replaced by a look of deep perplexity. He did not
say as he usually did, ”Yes, Dad,” but remained quiet, his young mind trying to take in the
enormity
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of the situation his father was placing before him. His thoughts were ranging wildly around the
danger of sin which would lead to prison, the feeling was akin to that which he experienced at
the matinee on a Saturday afternoon when he saw the cowboys and Indians fighting and the bad
man at last being shot or taken off to prison by the sheriff. But it was only bad men that went to
prison, yet his father had said that if he took two wives he could go to prison. Then startlingly his mind presented him with a picture of a baby. He didn’t reason why this should be, except that
Géorgie Armstrong’s sister who was married three months ago had just had a baby and Géorgie
had had a fight at school with a bigger boy about it. Géorgie was eleven and he knew all about
babies. He said you could have one or you could have five, they were just like his rabbits, only
they took a little longer to come, three months for each one he said and that the doctor had come
and pulled the baby out of his sister’s belly button. . . .
”Are you listening?” Abel shook him roughly by the shoulder. ”It’s all up to you. Do you realize
that?”
”What is, Dad?”
”Boy, am I talking to myself? What have I been saying?”
”About not lettin’ on about mam.”
”Well then, you must remember to forget, so to speak, that your mother is alive, because once
I’ve married Hil . . . Mrs Maxwell and anyone finds out that I have another wife they’ll send me
to prison. I wouldn’t need to have to worry about findin’ another job.
Now do you understand? . .
.
Tell me you understand that you must never mention your mother to anybody.”
”Yes, Dad.”
There followed a long pause while they stared at each other, then Abel said, ”You’ve made
friends at school. This pal of yours, Géorgie Armstrong. He’ll tell you things and he’ll expect
you to tell him things back, but if you don’t want any harm to come to me you must never
confide in him, I mean . . . well, tell him secrets, like about things that happened when we lived
in Hastings.”
”I won’t, Dad. I won’t.”
^ Again they stared at each other; then the boy said quietly, What’d happen, Dad, if ... if me mam
came and found us ?”
Abel opened his mouth wide and gulped at the air. Then rising to his feet, he put his arm around
his son and pulled him tightly
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against his side as he said, ”Don’t worry about that. I’don’t think there’s any likelihood of her
finding us, I put her off the scent about us coming North before I left. Anyroad, should she come
this way she’ll go straight to yon side of the river and we are well inland here ; people hereabouts are apt to keep to their own neck of the woods ; some of them in North Shields haven’t been this
side of the river in their lives. No, don’t worry about that, son, that’s the least of my worries. The only thing I’m worrying about, and I’ll go on worrying about, is if you should let it slip.” . The
boy moved from his side and stood solemn-faced looking up at him now as he said slowly, ”I
won’t let it slip, Dad, never, ’cos I like it here.”
f ••&»
Perhaps it was a trick of the light coming through the small
window but it seemed to Abel at that moment that his son changed. He saw him stepping
prematurely out of childhood burdened with a secret that would grow heavier with the years and
awareness, and he wondered how that awareness when it came would affect their relationship :
would the boy’s blind love for him perish in the open light of revelation ? The fall of a god was
always harder than that of a mere man, and he knew that in a way he appeared I ; as a god to his
son, he was someone who could do no wrong,
someone who knew all the answers.
He turned and walked to the window and stood looking down into the yard, asking himself now
if it was worth the risk. But before he could give himself an answer his attention was taken up by
a car swinging into the yard, and when out of it stepped i Florrie his whole body stiffened. He
watched her hurry towards
the kitchen door and when it closed behind her he looked at his watch. Half past eight. She was
likely on her way to open her shop, but what did she want here ? He hadn’t set eyes on her for
weeks now, not since the night her gentleman friend had unexpectedly reappeared. He stopped
himself from going downstairs, this wasn’t the time to come face to face with Florrie.
He didn’t move from the window when he spoke to Dick, saying, ”Get yourself off to school.”
”Must. . . must I go the day, Dad?”
”Yes, you’ll be better there.” He still kept his eyes focused down on the yard while the boy
gathered up his school bag and put on his coat and cap, and when he stood behind him, saying,