Authors: Yelena Kopylova
moved up even further as he listened to him saying quite quietly and firmly, ”Yes, I should have,
you’re right there, Hilda, except it wasn’t someone like Florrie I should have married, it should
have been Florrie herself.”
”You beast! You cruel, cruel beast! You know what I feel about our Florrie, yet you could say
that to me.”
”You brought it up, not me. Anyway, I’ve had about enough of this. I’ll say now what I came in
to say. I’m going to take five pounds each week out of that till, at least five pounds. I’ll work out the profits and take a percentage. I think that’s only fair for the twelve-hour day I put in. And
now I’m going out and I don’t know what time I’ll be back ... or if I’ll be back. Aye, or if I’ll be back.”
From the sanctuary of the scullery now, Dick saw his father enter the kitchen, then stop as
Hilda’s voice cried, ”You can’t, I mean you’ve got to get back for tea, Mr Gilmore’s coming.
You know he is.”
”Well, Hilda” - his father had turned about and was apparently facing her - ”you can tell Mr
Gilmore from me that he can go to hell, now and on all future visits. . . . Do you know something,
Hilda ? He’s the one you should have married. But, of course, his wife was alive at the time.
What a pity she didn’t go about the same time as Mr Maxwell because you would have made a
wonderful pair. And he’s still got you in mind, do you know that, Hilda?”
”You’re wicked. That’s what you are, Abel Gray, you’re wicked.”
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As the kitchen door closed on his father Dick stepped back further into the scullery, but he didn’t
attempt to open the back door and make his escape because that door had a habit of creaking, and
there in the kitchen now was Hilda. She was standing near the table, her face held tightly
between her hands; then she disappeared from his view and he heard a slight thud, followed by a
gasping cry and the sound of weeping.
After a moment during which he stood gnawing on his thumbnail while looking from one side of
the scullery to the other, he moved slowly into the kitchen. Hilda was lying halfway over the
kitchen table. Her head was resting on her forearms but, in unison with the rest of her body, it
was rocking from one side to the other. She looked like someone trying to throw off a great pain
and the sight upset him. He couldn’t have explained why, but he knew that, over this present
issue, he was more in sympathy with her than with his father. He had already forgotten the
substance of the issue, he only knew that somehow he was on her side in this.
”Aunt Hilda.” He put his hand gently on her shoulder and she started and seemed to roll on to her
side. Now with one elbow on the table she rested her head in her hand while her eyes rained tears
and her mouth opened and shut as if she were finding it difficult to breathe.
”Don’t cry. Don’t cry like that, Aunt Hilda. Come on.” He caught hold of her shoulders and
pulled her upright. ”Come on, come on, sit up; I’ll . . . I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
She allowed herself to be led to a chair and there, looking up at him, she gulped, ”Oh, Dickie!”
When she caught hold of his hands he expected her to say, ”How long have you been in ?” but
what she said was, ”Your father doesn’t love me, he doesn’t care anything for me. He doesn’t.
He doesn’t.”
When she fell against him he put his arms about her and brought her head to his breast and for
the second time in a half hour, in less than half an hour he found himself being embraced by a
woman, and returning the embrace.
It was strange but he realized that this was the first time that Hilda had really held him close to
her. She had put her arms around his shoulders, she had kissed him good-night on the cheek, but
she had never held him like this. He found he liked the feeling. As his laughter had come easy to
him with Molly, so now words
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of comfort seemed to flow from him. He didr$ know exactly what he was saying or why he was
saying it, but he was telling her that she was mistaken and that his dad thought the world of her,
and that people said all kinds of things when they were angry. He even reminded her of a sermon
Mr Gilmore had preached one Sunday not so long ago about the sin of temper and of hurting
people you love.
When she pressed him gently from her she was no longer crying and she looked into his face and
said quietly, ”You’re a good boy, Dickie. You’re a very good boy. I’ve . . . I’ve been harsh with
you at times but it’s just because . . . well, I’ve . . . I’ve been so unhappy.”
She was about to cry again but with an effort stopped herself and, getting to her feet, she went to
the sink and turned on the cold tap before holding her face sideways under it, then slowly dried
herself on the roller towel, after which she looked out of the kitchen window, and her voice low,
she said to him, ”Your dad’s just gone into the garage. Go to him, will you, and . . . and stay with him? Wherever he goes this afternoon, stay with him.”
”Aye. All right, yes, yes, I’ll . . . I’ll do that. And don’t worry, it’ll be all right.”
As he opened the door to go out, she said, ”I forgot, you usually go to the matinee on a
Saturday.”
”Oh” - he jerked his chin up - ”I wasn’t going anyway; I’ve seen it.”
He ran down the yard now towards the garage and met his father just coming out, buttoning up
his overcoat. He didn’t stop in his walk but went towards the road. Dick kept pace with him, but
neither of them spoke until they were on the pavement and hidden from the house by the high
wall; and then Abel stopped and said, ”I’ve got some business to do.”
”Can’t I come along, Dad?”
”No. Anyway, you generally go to the matinee the day.”
Again the boy said, ”I’ve seen it.”
”Well, go and watch the cricket then; they’re playing on thp bottom field.”
”Dad, let me go along of you.”
”No, I’ve told you, haven’t I! I might end up going tramping over the hills and you’ve got no love
for tramping, have you?”
”I wouldn’t mind today, Dad.”
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They stood staring at each other for a moment until Dick said, ”She was crying, Dad, badly.”
Abel turned his head to the side and drew his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment, then
he said, ”Well, if she’s crying she needs someone to look after her, so go back and keep an eye
on her.”
”But she . . .”
”She what?”
”It doesn’t matter.” <
Again they looked at each other; then Abel stalked away down the road and Dick turned back
into the yard. But he didn’t go towards the kitchen, yet he knew she had seen him for she was
standing looking out of the window.
Arthur Baines’s time for leaving on a Saturday was half past six and he was just about to close
the garage when the car turned into the yard. It was a black high-body Rover and as the driver, a
man in his early fifties, alighted he let out a long breath as if he had been walking instead of
riding, and what he said was, ”Oh, glad I found you. You know, this is the first garage I’ve come
across in miles; you’d think they’d never heard of the motor-car here.”
”We’re just about to close, sir; what can I do for you?”
”Well, a number of things I should say. I’m nearly out of petrol, water, and oil; and then there’s
this brake” - he pointed to the lever near the driving seat - ”it’s sticking. Had a job to get it to work coming down one of your hills. And my goodness they are hills, I’ve never seen so many.
Well now, can you fix me up?”
”I can supply you with the petrol, oil, and water but if there’s anything wrong with the brake,
anything serious . . . well, I’m ... I’m just off.”
”Oh! Do your best, have a look at it.”
The short thick-set man walked to the middle of the yard and was looking towards the door
opening in the side of the garage when the young boy came out, and he said to him cheerily,
”Hello there, young man.”
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Ja:
k
”Hello, sir.” f ,- -, ’ • •
”Nice big yard you have here.” . , I i
”Yes, it is a big yard.” I
\
The man now moved round in a slow circle and he said, ”I wonder if it would be possible to have
a glass of water ?”
”Oh yes, yes, sir. If you’ll come up to the kitchen I’ll get you one.”
”Good. Thank you.”
Dick preceded the short talkative customer up to the kitchen door and, opening it, he called,
”Aunt Hilda, this gentleman would like a drink of water.”
Hilda, on hearing the kitchen door open, had come quickly from out of the sitting-room, and she
paused for a moment, a look of disappointment on her face, then said, ”Oh yes, yes, by all
means.”
Quickly Dick filled a glass with water and handed it to the man, who drained it at one go before
handing the glass back to Dick and saying, ”Thank you very much.”
Smiling at Hilda, he said, ”There’s nothing to beat God’s wine when you’re thirsty, although at
other times we don’t value it.” Then he asked, ”By the way, is there a good hotel in the town?”
”Well, we’re just on the outskirts here but if you go right into Fellburn there’s The Bull and also
The Forestry. . . . The Forestry is a very comfortable place I understand.”
”Thank you. Well now I must be on my way, that is if your man has been able to fix my brake.”
As the man turned and looked towards where Arthur Baines was lying half in and half out of the
car, Abel came through the opening and walked slowly into the yard. He merely glanced towards
the car and his gaze just flicked over the group at the kitchen door. It was his intention to go
straight to one of the old rooms above the garage which he now used as a workroom, but a voice
high with surprise halted him.
”Well I never! there couldn’t possibly be two of you.”
Abel turned and looked towards the man hurrying towards him and for a moment his throat felt
completely dry, yet at the same time he reassured himself there was nothing to fear, it was only
the doctor, the mad woman’s cousin.
”Mr Gray, isn’t it?”
”Yes.” -:-, ,,H
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”Well! well! it’s a small world. I never thought to run into you again. How are you ? But need I
ask ? You look very prosperous. And . . . and” - he half swung round - ”don’t tell me.” Then he
put his hand to his brow and struck it twice, saying, ”Of course. Of course. He hasn’t altered that
much, he hasn’t even grown all that much. Your boy.” He looked to where Dick was moving
towards him with Hilda just a few yards behind; then he turned towards Abel again, a question in
his eyes, and Abel swallowed deeply before inclining his head towards Hilda and saying, ”My . •
• my wife.”
”Well, I never! How do you do, Mrs Gray?” He now walked towards Hilda, his hand
outstretched, and when she took it he shook her hand up and down, saying, ”I’m very pleased to
meet you. And you know, I’ve often thought of your husband.” He glanced back towards Abel.
”We met under the most odd circumstances. By the way” - he leant towards her, a broad grin on
his face - ”you didn’t have to chain him up to get him, did you ?”
Hilda’s eyes narrowed in perplexity.
”Not like Tilly did?”
Seeing her expression, he said, ”Oh, he’s never told you about Tilly? Well, well” - he again
looked towards Abel - ”he should have; you would have had a laugh.” Then turning to her once
more, he went on, ”Tilly was my cousin. Not quite with it up here” - he tapped his forehead -
”but she took a fancy to your big fellow there, so much so that she chained him up to the byres to
try to keep him. It was a very scary business, wasn’t it, young man?” He looked towards Dick
now, but Dick, his memory recalling in flashes the scene in the barn, merely nodded his head.
”It’s all right, sir” - Arthur Baines had joined them - ”the brake had got jammed. I’ve fixed it.”
”Oh, thanks, thanks. Well, well. Now I must be off and get settled in in a hotel. Your wife’s told
me there’s two good ones in the town.” He looked from one to the other, then back to Abel,
saying on a laugh, ”You know, it’s a pity you didn’t stick with her, I mean Tilly. She died three
months later, she would have left you the lot. But there it is, I came in for it. Perhaps it was just as well, eh ? It ensured my early retirement and I’m now able to jaunt where and when I will. But
it’s been nice seeing you again; as I said, I’ve often thought of you. By! you were scared that day; you thought you had killed her, and for a moment I thought you
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had an’ all. Well, good-bye again. Good-bye, young sir,” he said, putting his hand on Dick’s
head; then turning to Hilda, he again held out his hand, saying, ”I’m very pleased to have met
you and I am glad to see he’s picked himself a fine-looking little wife.”
The three of them stood and watched him getting into the car; they watched until he had turned it
around, and when he waved to them they all perfunctorily answered his salute.
As Abel walked away towards the door that led to the workroom Dick made to follow him, but
was stopped by Hilda touching his sleeve, and he turned obediently with her and went into the
house. But no sooner was the kitchen door closed behind them that she confronted him, and with
her head moving backwards and forwards in an action of disbelief she asked him, ”Was all that
true?”
He nodded dumbly at her.
”You mean there was a woman who . . . who chained him up ? ... Was . . . was he living with