The dwelling place by Catherine Cookson

Author:Catherine Cookson [Cookson, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General
Publisher: BCA
Published: 2011-07-09T23:13:19+00:00

"Just that you might be making a stop on your journey."

Oh, God Almighty! He gripped his head with his large hands and they trembled and the knuckles showed white through the skin.

"Well" --her voice had a careless, airy sound to it~"I thought you might just be calling in to say good-bye, seeing she's all set to move to her mansion."

Slowly he turned and looked at her, and she said mockingly, "Don't tell me this has come as a surprise to you. You know all her business;

surely she wouldn't keep you in the dark about this now, would she? "

His hands hung slack at his sides now and he waited, but she had to make a prelude as she always did before touching on the vital point.

"Byl the trouble one body can cause. And you wouldn't mind so much if it was somebody of importance, but when they're scum, well, you've got to ask yourself, haven't you?"

He had learned to still his tongue because he knew that if that was let loose his hands would become loose too, and once they touched her they wouldn't be able to stop. And of this he was afraid.

"Didn't you know there were great doings at the Hall yesterday? Myl they said never, even in the old man's time, the one afore the last one who begot half the countryside, never did he cause a scene like that of the young lord. Stopped them going off with the hairn, he did; caught them in the nick of time, kicked, lashed out, bashed, knocked everybody sprawling, then up with the hairn and takes him.... Now where do you think he takes him? Well, to his mother, of course. It's natural, isn't it, that he should take him to his mother?

But just until Tuesday. Well, that's what they say, just until Tuesday when her big house will be ready. In Newcastle it is, thirty rooms so they tell, Bowmer says, and a great stack of servants. Now it's like a fairy tale, isn't it, from rags to riches? And you know something else? He's leaving on Tuesday an' all. And where do you think he's going to live? I'll give you a guess. "

He was near the desk, where stood a big glass inkwell. From the corner of his eye he saw the light glinting on it.

He gripped his hands tightly together in front of him and looked down at them as he said, "Get out of me sight, do you hear! Get out of me sightl" Now the mockery went from her voice and she cried, "Out of your sightl You'd like me out of your sight altogether, wouldn't you? You're thinkin' of ways to get rid of me all the time, aren't you? Oh, you needn't tell me, I can see your mind working every minute of the day.

But you can take it from me I'll be here when you're gone. Get that into your head, when you're pushing the daisies up I'll be here, an' I'll be ruling as is me right.

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