The year of the virgins by 1906-1998 Catherine Cookson Page B
Authors: 1906-1998 Catherine Cookson
Ads: Link
brought her round squarely to face him now, asking quietly, 'Are they kind and understanding?'
And she answered as quietly, 'Kind in a way, but not understanding. They never have been and they never will now.' They stared at each other for a moment before he said brightly, 'Oh, well, come on. I'll land you at your door.'
T thought you were going into Newcastle on business?'
'I am, but I can still land you at your door and turn round and come back.'
'I can get a taxi.'
'You'll do no such thing. Come on.' . . .
Five minutes later he dropped her at the gates leading to her home, saying, 'I'll call in at the hospital about eight to pick you up. Will that be all right?'
'Yes, Dad. And thanks.'
He waved to her, turned the car around and drove back into Newcastle and straight to 42 Bowick Road.
Maggie opened the front door for him as if she had been standing behind it waiting, which in a way, she had. Once it was closed they put their arms about each other and kissed long and hard. Then in a matter of fact way she said, 'You look frozen. I've got some hot soup ready.' And to this he answered, 'We could have snow for Christmas, it's cold enough.'
'Here, give me your coat.' She took his outdoor things,
went into the passage and hung them on an expanding hat rack. When she returned to the room it was to be enfolded in his arms again. But now they just held each other closely for a moment until she said, 'Sit yourself down,' and pointed to a two-seater sofa set at an angle to the open fireplace, in which a coal fire was blazing. And he sat down and stretched out his legs, then looked at the fire, and when his body slumped he leant his head on the back of the couch and his escaping breath took on the form of a long sigh. Presently, without moving, he called, 'What time did you leave?'
And her voice came from the kitchen, saying, 'Near twelve.'
'What!' He brought his head up. 'You were ready first thing before I went to the yard.'
'Yes, I know, but there was a bit to do with Stephen. You know what he's like on my day off, or at any time when he knows I'm going out. Well, he came down in his dressing-gown. I was in my room when he entered the kitchen, but I heard him. You know how his voice cracks high when he's going to have a tantrum. When I went in it was the usual: he wanted to come with me or go and see Don. They should never have promised to take him to see Don; he remembers these things. It was decided long ago you know, not to promise him things he couldn't have or do. Well, who should give us a surprise visit at that time but herself, and at this he started one of his tantrums. He just wouldn't stop, throwing himself about, you know, in this three-year-old fashion. And so she slapped him.'
'She what!'
'She slapped him. And she was right. Oh yes, on this occasion she was right. And it stopped him in his tracks. But he started to howl, so I took him upstairs, told him
to have his bath then get dressed. And I went down again and saw her.'
Her voice stopped, and he pulled himself up to the end of the couch, calling, 'Well, what happened next?'
She came into the room now carrying a tray on which were two plates of soup and, laying them on a small cloth-covered table set against the wall opposite the fire, she said, 'I went to her room. She was looking out of the window, with her hair hanging down. I'd never seen her with her hair hanging down, you know. She turned and looked at me. She had been crying, Daniel. She had been crying.'
He rose to his feet and walked towards her, saying, 'Well, she had been crying. She's got a good right to cry; it would be because she was sorry for herself, knowing she can't have all her own way and her son to herself.'
Maggie looked away from him, then continued, 'When I asked if she would mind if I took him out for a little run, she said, "It's your day off." And I said, "I know that, but it doesn't matter, I've nothing special to do." And you know what she said?' Maggie was looking
And she answered as quietly, 'Kind in a way, but not understanding. They never have been and they never will now.' They stared at each other for a moment before he said brightly, 'Oh, well, come on. I'll land you at your door.'
T thought you were going into Newcastle on business?'
'I am, but I can still land you at your door and turn round and come back.'
'I can get a taxi.'
'You'll do no such thing. Come on.' . . .
Five minutes later he dropped her at the gates leading to her home, saying, 'I'll call in at the hospital about eight to pick you up. Will that be all right?'
'Yes, Dad. And thanks.'
He waved to her, turned the car around and drove back into Newcastle and straight to 42 Bowick Road.
Maggie opened the front door for him as if she had been standing behind it waiting, which in a way, she had. Once it was closed they put their arms about each other and kissed long and hard. Then in a matter of fact way she said, 'You look frozen. I've got some hot soup ready.' And to this he answered, 'We could have snow for Christmas, it's cold enough.'
'Here, give me your coat.' She took his outdoor things,
went into the passage and hung them on an expanding hat rack. When she returned to the room it was to be enfolded in his arms again. But now they just held each other closely for a moment until she said, 'Sit yourself down,' and pointed to a two-seater sofa set at an angle to the open fireplace, in which a coal fire was blazing. And he sat down and stretched out his legs, then looked at the fire, and when his body slumped he leant his head on the back of the couch and his escaping breath took on the form of a long sigh. Presently, without moving, he called, 'What time did you leave?'
And her voice came from the kitchen, saying, 'Near twelve.'
'What!' He brought his head up. 'You were ready first thing before I went to the yard.'
'Yes, I know, but there was a bit to do with Stephen. You know what he's like on my day off, or at any time when he knows I'm going out. Well, he came down in his dressing-gown. I was in my room when he entered the kitchen, but I heard him. You know how his voice cracks high when he's going to have a tantrum. When I went in it was the usual: he wanted to come with me or go and see Don. They should never have promised to take him to see Don; he remembers these things. It was decided long ago you know, not to promise him things he couldn't have or do. Well, who should give us a surprise visit at that time but herself, and at this he started one of his tantrums. He just wouldn't stop, throwing himself about, you know, in this three-year-old fashion. And so she slapped him.'
'She what!'
'She slapped him. And she was right. Oh yes, on this occasion she was right. And it stopped him in his tracks. But he started to howl, so I took him upstairs, told him
to have his bath then get dressed. And I went down again and saw her.'
Her voice stopped, and he pulled himself up to the end of the couch, calling, 'Well, what happened next?'
She came into the room now carrying a tray on which were two plates of soup and, laying them on a small cloth-covered table set against the wall opposite the fire, she said, 'I went to her room. She was looking out of the window, with her hair hanging down. I'd never seen her with her hair hanging down, you know. She turned and looked at me. She had been crying, Daniel. She had been crying.'
He rose to his feet and walked towards her, saying, 'Well, she had been crying. She's got a good right to cry; it would be because she was sorry for herself, knowing she can't have all her own way and her son to herself.'
Maggie looked away from him, then continued, 'When I asked if she would mind if I took him out for a little run, she said, "It's your day off." And I said, "I know that, but it doesn't matter, I've nothing special to do." And you know what she said?' Maggie was looking
Similar Books
