Ordered to Endure
Mary! Oh, can’t you? Go after him, will you? Just look at this rain! Hell freeze, end up in hospital! Go on! Mrs. Thomas Anderson was pacing franticly by the window, craning her neck for a sight of her brother, Nicholas.
If he gets cold, hell come home, Mary replied stubbornly, folding her arms. Im tired; fresh off the train and now you want me chasing father all over town? Hes a grown man, let him sort himself out!
God, how Mary loathed her father. To the marrow, jaw clenched and fists white. Years have come and gone, yet forgiveness never found her, though Aunt Thomasina always said you mustnt keep a grudge on your heart so long… Given half a chance Mary would have leapt on him, eyes screwed shut, pounding away. And Nicholas, her father, would just endure, as tradition demanded to endure, always.
As children, Thomas and Nicholas brother and sister grew up in separate worlds. Their parents split when Thomasina was seven and Nicholas four.
Thomasina went with their mother, resettled in another village, new stepfather and all. He hardly fussed over Thomasina but never marked her as an outsider. A nod for a job well done, a rebuke for faults. For a long while Thomasina wondered: did he love her, or only tolerate? He spoke no sweet words, wove no simple flute, never once winked perhaps she simply hadnt pleased him…
But one day, ten-year-old Thomasina, returning from school, wandered with the others to the pond. Late winter, the sun hung gentle, but the cold was so bitter that noses tingled, mittens froze onto hands, yet the children laughed and slid carefree down snowdrifts, sledging on battered satchels or the seat of their trousers.
Soon they dared the ice itself. Thomasina fell through. No one could say where the black water opened or why the ice cracked, but she vanished in an instant, soundless. Eyes wide, her friends stared, helpless.
Ice water stung her face, blinded her eyes; Thomasina swore they’d burst from pain. Still, she didnt cry out she knew, that mustnt be. She thrashed, boots like anchors pinning her below, as if her shoes fused to her feet. Buzzing filled her ears, air bubbles skimmed past her skin.
Thomasina tilted her chin up saw a glow, the sun piercing down like taut yellow threads across a silvery pool, blazing from a single yellow centre.
If only I could get there! Just to warm up, she thought as if half-awake. Memories fluttered in: her brother, chasing each other across the summer fields, mother sitting beneath the birch, weaving wild crowns. Nicholas, so little still, hidden by tall grass. Once she lost him there, went shouting, only for him to surprise her from behind, leaping onto her back… She remembered his hot, clutching little hands, nails scratching her neck, his shy, quiet laugh.
But whatll he do without me now? she panicked, kicked with all her might, at last lost her boots, tried to rise, then pain shot from her back where she struck something hard. A dull pounding, then nothing. Darkness fell, the sun gone, the cold gone too.
Alec, in nothing but vest and trousers, bolted down the street, kids trailing behind. The little ones had burst into the house screeching about Thomasina falling in. Alec leapt from his bed, barked at them for calm, told sharp-eyed Georgie to explain.
Miss Thomasinas gone under the ice. Out by the pond! Georgie was shivering, then suddenly sobbed. Mr Alec! Save her! Please!
Brushing the children asunder, Alec stuffed his feet into boots, dashed off the porch, and nearly tore the gate from its hinges.
Must be quick! Only have to be quick! his mind hammered, fists swinging at the air. It hurt to run, an old wound in his back twisting with every stride. They never took the shrapnel out, only said he was lucky it hadnt reached his lung.
Now he felt it move inside him again, sawing his muscles. But Alec bared his teeth, cursing the nagging pain Not today, old lass! You wont get me yet! barrelled downhill, stumbled onto the pond, and there the trembling pool of dark, and at the bottom, a pale lump Thomasina.
He dived, gripped her, pushed her up. Black dots danced before his eyes; his arms were useless, limp, just as on that day in 43, hauling poor Stephen from the tank. Had to make the copse, had to get there, but his body failed him… Frightening.
Stephen now worked with Alec at the tractor works, hands deep in engines as if they were part of him, brisk, upright, though his face bore the memory of burns. Alec had dragged him with his teeth, every muscle straining, while Stephen cried it was his first battle, just arrived and wounded already…
Youll fight again, lad! You will, I promise! Alec had insisted, carried him to safety.
Now, just as back then all had to work out. It had to.
Thomasina surfaced, Alec pulled himself up, then one leg, then the other. Thomasina, heavy with sodden sheepskin coat. The buttons wouldnt come undone; Alecs fingers bled, skin came away in strips, but he said nothing, only red spots spreading across the ice. At last, he flayed the heavy coat off her, cradled her, shook her frantically, staring at her ashen face and bluish lips.
No! No! Stubborn goose, come on! he roared, lumbered about with her in his arms, frantic and lost.
Just then, Thomasina retched and coughed. Alec held her close, stroking her back, then dashed toward the village again. The children followed, Georgie racing ahead to warn the nurse at the surgery how Thomasina had drowned and come back to life…
Later, in bed, Thomasina wept finally knowing her stepfather loved her, loved his big-eyed, foolish girl. Loved her without words, with all his vast, wounded heart.
Nicholas had stayed with his father, soon joined by a stern new stepmother named Olivia sharp-browed woman. They moved to a flat that once belonged to churchfolk, or perhaps the monks. Brick walls and a low, nearly sunken room. At night came the whispery voices of former tenants, crucifixes clinking on chains, a lingering scent of incense. Or maybe it was only Nicholass imagination. He was young and didnt really understand why his mother left him behind but took Thomasina, why Olivia never kissed his hands, sang him no sweet lullabies, nor soothed any of his scrapes, but only sighed: Endure, Nicholas God endured, and so must we. Sleep. Turn away and sleep in silence.
Olivia crossed herself; Andrew, Nicholass father, scolded her, sometimes struck her. Olivia merely bowed her head, hunched on the floor and bore it.
Shed hit Nicholas, too, when left alone together. So Nicholas learned to hide, scrambling out the window into the overgrown garden, tall rudbeckia swaying like golden heads winking at him. Here and there wild strawberries, leaves dark and juicy, fruit heavy with juice. Nicholas watched those berries ripen, and when ripe, devoured them where no one could see, lips stained red, all the while Olivia scolded him for his sticky mouth.
What have I done wrong, madam? hed squeak, thin and underfed.
Gluttony! Ordered to endure! And you scoff yourself silly! his stepmother would explain.
Andrew pretended not to notice, forever busy at the shop, coming home late, smelling of oil, metal shavings, sweat, and gin. In the dank, curtained gloom, hed shout in his sleep, as if back at war. Nicholas sometimes wanted to run away, to Thomasina, to have her arms about him, to feel her warm breath tousling his blond head, to be told tales about doves and crumbs scattered on the path, and how the doves came pecking, but little Nicholas never got the crumbs Hed cry, call for Thomasina, but his stepmother only hissed at him to be quiet and endure.
Nicholas endured everything, it seemed. Pinching shoes passed down from neighbours, craving something sweet while Olivia forbade sugar or sweeties, honey squirrelled away for a rainy day.
When his stepmother went out hed sneak into the cupboard and eat honey straight from the jar, eyes squeezed shut in delight then his father would thrash him for stealing.
I was just so hungry Nicholas would whisper, trembling by the cupboard.
His father slammed the creaky door, glass inside rattling, plates clinking. Nicholas tumbled to the floor, sharp pain. But he endured. What else could he do? Endure and hope Thomasina would come to save him…
He saw his sister only rarely after their parents separated.
Thomasina, take me with you! Nicholas would plead as she unpacked trinkets at the table. I want to live with you… and with Mum! hed glance at their mother, but she pursed her lips, looking elsewhere.
I cant, Nick. Mums expecting another, and its too cramped in the cottage. Besides, Dads parents are there too, so… Youll have to put up with it, Nick, until youre older. Then you can go where you please, agreed?
Thomasina, Dad beats me Nicholas whispered even lower. Hurts, right across the back. Please take me! Your dads a good man right?
She nodded. For her, the best father in the world. He called her Little Imp, bought her ribbons and books from market, loved to hear her read
Let me ask Mum! Thomasina relented, whispered with their mother, but she only shook her head.
Weve agreed everything, darling. This is for the best.
Nicholas never really understood why he was left behind, why Mums arms never stretched for him, never pressed a kiss on his hair.
But Thomasina said endure, and so he would…
A few years later, Andrew rose up the political ladder, and with his wife landed a flat on Wellington Road. Still a shared house, communal corridor, odd strangers at every turn, but, at least, not a cellar no nuns whisperings, no scent of incense. Nicholas had his own corner, shut away by a cotton curtain decorated with yellow flower-sprigs this was his world now.
He joined a new school. Made little impression, save for good marks.
Brains of steel, that one youll go far! his father clapped him on the back.
Nicholas did go far. Finished school, started college. He couldve moved to halls, ripped the old curtain from its rail, finally shrugged off endurance, got fit, found friends. But Olivia fell ill whod watch her but him? Shed raised him, hadnt she? Would he just abandon her? Andrew always away, driving some high-up official, sometimes sending the odd clothing voucher, even wrangled a wardrobe token once, so the Andersons dazzled with new furniture, neighbours green with envy. But Olivia was beyond pleasure, her insides burned as if aflame. Nicholas stuck by, tending to her, duty-bound.
You need hospital care stomachs are nothing to joke with! the neighbour insisted, bringing a bowl of broth. At least have a bit! Why keep torturing yourself?
Ill manage. Body rejects it, so Ill have to endure, Olivia turned away. The broths smell repulsed her everything smelled like death these days.
Nicholas endured her moods, her wailing, the way she squeezed his hand, teeth clenched in pain.
Then, just before the end, she struck him and hissed it was all his fault.
Nicholas shrank back, staring in horror.
Yes! Because of you! Why did Andrew bring you here? Ate our food, robbed us, all the best for you, just crumbs for me! she spat out, eyes narrowed. Devil child! Go! Oh Lord, how much longer must I endure?!
Nicholas was twenty-two. Eighteen years hated, accused of theft, called the devil in a feeble, underfed boys body…
After Olivias funeral, Andrew told his son he was leaving.
The flats yours. Dont do anything daft. And at the door, Well, up to you.
And was gone. Nicholas often wondered did his father love him? If not, why keep him close? And if so, why never say? Wasnt it simple to just say, Nick, I love you in my own way. Forgive me, Im leaving now. Youre a good lad, son. Live well.
He never said it. Never even said goodbye to the neighbours.
Later, years later, Nicholas guessed that his father had simply broken long ago. Restless spirit, forever searching when all he needed was to stop, breathe, see his son. Nicholas would tell his father that, standing at the grave hed tell him he spent his life waiting to be called a cracking lad, waiting for the blows to stop. Waiting and enduring…
At the funeral, Thomasina came. Now quite grown, ready to marry.
Not the best timing, really, but Nick, will you come? For my wedding? she whispered as mourners helped themselves at the wake. I want you to meet Peter hes wonderful!
Nicholas nodded. He knew Peter was wonderful. And yes, he would come.
Thomasina looked so much like their mother: same eyes, strong square jaw, dark hair plaited round her head, wide, capable hands, and a mole on her right wrist…
Before leaving, Thomasina hugged her brother, blew in his ear, just as in childhood. Smiled. Still, both sensed the years had made strangers of them, each living a life apart…
Nicholas never made the wedding, could not bring himself or was simply too shy, or too busy. He sent a telegram.
Afterwards, Nicholas moved up in life. Discovered women in all their curious wonder.
Daisy somehow drifted into his flat one day, supposedly to copy lectures. She admired the high ceilings, sunlight, wide writing desk. Nicholas shadowed her shyly, apologised for it all It just happened, this big room…
Nick, Ill stay with you a little, alright? Its so cramped at my place, and the showers always freezing. Ill catch cold! Im slim, I wont take up space! Daisy babbled at speed, then, seeing Nicholass awkwardness, burst into tears:
Im sick of state-rationed everything! Im a child of care homes, Nick! All my life packed into someone elses corners, no cup or plate of my own, nothing personal. Im tired, I just want to live like normal folk!
She sobbed all over him, stroked him, whispered sweet things that made his cheeks burn and heart stutter. Daisy just loved him, what was so strange? She loved him, so shed come, kissed him, cared for him as no one else ever had…
They wed within a month. Civil ceremony, no fuss Nicholas straight to work, thanks to his fathers mate finding him a job in the depot, Daisy stayed at uni.
Nicholas switched to night classes, spent his days in the garage. He earned for his family his own family, at last. He had a wife, she said she loved him, and did he love Daisy? He didnt know for sure. She was his first, had her flaws, but Nicholas decided to endure.
Daisy, sharp-tongued, soon corralled the neighbours they let her have the bathroom first, wouldnt dare smoke in the kitchen, as Daisy was pregnant.
Fancy me giving birth to a monster? shed jab a dozy neighbour with her swelling belly. Just try lighting up in here again! Youll be out on the street! And you, too! shed snap, shutting the kitchen door in someones face, but then, just as quick, purring:
Well, as were all friends, do let me try your roast potatoes they smell gorgeous!
And that nervous neighbour would dish up, then even wash Daisys plate, almost bowing.
Nick! Nick, go away. You reek! shed snap at night, pushing Nicholas aside.
Smell of what, Daisy? I only just bathed, left all my clothes in the corridor, just as you asked! Nicholas whispered, snuggling up, hoping for affection.
You stink of fish! Fish! Go away, youre making me feel sick! And get your hands off! Daisy kicked and pushed him.
Where should I go? hed stammer, eyebrows high.
Somewhere! Anywhere but here sleep in the kitchen!
And so Daisy turned to the wall and slept, Nicholas took his boxers and vest, wandered to the kitchen, sat on the stool, back to the wall, fell asleep. In dreams he fell, woke, sat again. Never mind. Just a bit longer, endure it. Once Daisys given birth, things will be homely again…
She gave birth to a daughter early. Complained the baby was tiny, the feeding hurt her. Kicked up scenes in the ward, nipped off to smoke in the toilets, washed the baby with a grimace, rolling her eyes.
Careful with her head! Her necks hardly there, youll snap it! a horrified nurse watched as Daisy handled the child carelessly. Give her here! Youll harm her!
My child! Let go! Daisy snarled. Or, in fact… Here, take her. Send her wherever it is you keep them!
Other mothers eyed Mary red, flaky-faced, loosely wrapped with a sort of pity.
Heaven knows why such women get given children they whispered behind Daisys back. Shes the devil. Lets hope the dads got a bit of sense.
Nicholas, when his girls got home, was terrified to hold little Mary. She squirmed and twisted, screwed up her tiny face, looked absurdly snub-nosed.
Daisy What am I meant to do with her? he stammered when his wife announced, three days after leaving hospital, she was going out. Shell need feeding or something…
Well, nows your chance. Ive been in a cage nine months, belly full, legs swollen. Had enough. Youll work it out! Daisy shrugged. Mind her nappies though, and yours are wet too! Hahaha! Wee on Daddy, theres a first! Well, Im off. You two can manage! she pecked Nicholass nose and was off, all eyeliner and scarlet lips.
Nicholas lifted Mary as if she were porcelain, padded around with her, awkward, but decided hed just have to endure it. Daisy was tired, wanted some fun after all.
Well get through, Mary! Well just see it through! he nodded to the baby…
Nicholas never was a good father. The neighbour, Aunt Irene, took to swaddling Mary, feeding her bottles. And Daisy? Daisy bound up her chest, vowing never to be a dairy cow. Developed mastitis, was in hospital twice, met a young, promising doctor handsomely housed, played the guitar, knew how to treat a woman.
The affair lasted two years. Daisy finished her degree, had an abortion, and threw a screaming fit at Nicholas, calling him a wet mop who couldnt even secure them a flat of their own.
How exactly am I meant to get one, Daisy? he answered quietly. Ive no real qualifications yet, not even defended my diploma. Just wait a bit, at least Mary can go to the crèche soon, doctor says shes ready. Itll be easier for you…
Daisy twisted her lips, turned with a sneer.
Oh no, my dear! Itll be easier for you! Im leaving! She shrugged her crawling daughter away.
Where? Nicholas didnt get it. Visiting friends? What about Mary? I have to go to college…
Pathetic, Nicholas! Pathetic and soft! She laughed. Youre easy to wrap round my finger, but thats just boring. If youd more spine, wed have a flat by now! But no, you just endure. Keep at it then. Im leaving for good, you understand?
But Where, Daisy?
To someone strong, someone wholl love me. Wheres my suitcase?
You didnt have one Nicholas shrugged. Take mine…
Nicholas was hopeless at fatherhood. Useless at comforting or playing, couldnt tell stories or make fun. All he could do was endure and teach Mary to do the same.
Mary howled with stomach pains, but he told her to endure rather than call for help. She didnt want to stay in the crèche for five days, hung onto her fathers legs, but he just gently detached her, murmuring that they must get used to enduring…
People pitied Nicholas single-father, dumped wife, child shed not even visit and hed just nod: “Never mind, well manage, just have to carry on!”
Mary came home weekends, played quietly on the rug, ignored her father. On Monday she trudged back to the crèche. Each summer, the nursery would move out of town, Nicholas would pack her bag, walk her to the coach, telling her to endure hed be by soon to visit.
Hed bring sweets, pies (a gift from the neighbour), the odd old toy, but Mary met him with a cool thank you, wandering off to her friends.
Mary… Mary! hed call after his knock-kneed girl, but she never looked back. Why should she?
So life dawdled on. When Mary started school Nicholas was almost glad. She was grown enough, could manage for herself.
Mary did poorly; neat writing eluded her, maths was easier but attention always fled. She preferred to skip and tumble about at break, then yawn away the lesson, never one to set her jaw to the page and copy lines.
Her teachers scolded her, summoned her father, considered a meeting about her but soon stopped just a lonely dad, after all, raising her.
Nicholas endured all this, teeth gritted, still hoping Thomasina would one day descend and save him. He never called why bother her? Shed know, somehow…
At nine, Mary crept home early, flopped on the bed, curled up tight, and whimpered.
Whats wrong, love? Aunt Irene peeked in. Sick?
No, must be something I ate. Ill endure, Mary turned to the wall.
Well, mind! If needed, call a doctor! Im on night shift, let your father sort it, Aunt Irene called, then left. Mary hugged herself tighter. She was cold, her teeth rattled uncontrollably.
Nicholas came home late, a busy day he was now an engineer, people came for advice. After the meeting hed walked Daisy home, yes, Daisy again working with him now, trailing after her ex-husband, all brittle and longing, two abortions behind her, ditched by her promising doctor. Daisy leaned mournfully on Nicholass arm, and his heart trembled Daisy loved him again, she did!
He made home by eleven, hands shaking, fell to bed at once. Mary whined at him, about her stomach, something about a fever
Youll be all right; probably just something you ate, he muttered. What ill stomach now, when Daisy was stopping by at the weekend with her cake?
Dad, it hurts, badly! Mary tugged his thoughts away. Please call a doctor.
Dont be daft, sweetheart. No doctors at midnight. Just sleep, itll pass. Nicholas had already fallen asleep, dreaming of Daisy, her bare skin, whispering all sorts in his ear, tickling…
He woke to a sharp slap across his face, as his stepmother once gave.
Wake up! Nicholas, wake! Marys dying! Youve let her suffer long enough! What kind of father are you? What sort of person?! Mary! Mary, darling!
Thomasina came every day, bathed and fed her niece blamed herself for not arriving in Marys life sooner, but Nicholas never wrote, never called! Its all fine, just have to knuckle under, thats all always his answer.
… All right Mary, pack your things, youre going home tomorrow, theyre discharging you, said the nurse. You must be excited?
But Mary broke down sobbing. She didnt want to go, wasnt excited. Shed never forgive her father for making her endure all that pain
Darling Oh Mary, please Nicholas stood in the doorway, lost.
Go away! Go away! Aunt Thomasina, please make him leave! Mary screamed. Because of you, it hurt, it still hurts! Go!
She went to stay with Aunt Thomasina. Nicholas didnt protest. Hed had enough: Mary with her burst appendix, Daisy come and gone, Thomasina always glowering, scolding. And where were you, anyway? You left your Nick behind, sister some sister you are! He needed calm, to catch his breath…
Nicholas lived alone after that, never remarried. No urge, no chance. Hed had enough. At least the flat was his, no trouble but work, passed his doctorate it was tough, yes, but all finished now! That was the key it was over.
That autumn, Thomasina urged Mary to visit her father. Bring him in, Mary. See, there hes sat on the bench. Why keep glaring daggers all your life? He is your father, your own blood Once again, she began but caught the chill in Marys gaze and stopped.
Mary pursed her lips, spun for her coat, fled.
Thomasina watched her niece squelch through rain, wiping drops from her face, eyebrows drawn in anger.
There you are! she stomped, seeing Nicholas. Come on, inside, its dinner time.
Nicholas lifted his head slowly, and then smiled, as if hed seen an angel.
Mary Dearest Mary he whispered. No sense you out in the rain. Go in, wont you?
Ive come for you! Get up! Dad, what are you playing at! Mary grabbed his hand, pulled him to the door.
Why are you here, love? If its for me, you neednt bother. Im all right, really. Im not enduring, just going on. Dont trouble yourself, Mary, he said, head down, peeling off his coat in the hall.
Im not here for you, Dad. I need to tell you Im getting married. You should know.
Nicholas froze, swallowed hard. Imagine Mary, grown, marrying So what does that make him, now? Father-in-law? Whos the groom? What if Nicholas dislikes him? How to withstand all this?
All that would come later. For now, the three of them Thomasina, Mary, Nicholas sat at the table, drinking tea, silent.
Mary glanced round the room, nothing had changed. Even the wallpaper hung torn in the corners, just as it always had. Her father had simply endured it all…
Today Mary came not so much for her father, but for herself. Before you begin anything new, you must close the past, even forgive, attempt to love again.
You see, darling, Nicholas your dad cant be blamed for being unwanted by his mum, his stepmother or his own father. He’s more a casualty of himself, or the past. Perhaps much of it is my fault, who knows In his heart hes still the boy stood on the stool, stealing honey, enduring because he had to He lived as he knew how, and still does. Im not asking you to love him, Mary, just not to lose each other as I once lost him Thomasina stroked her nieces arm. That’s all.
Mary nodded. It would never be easy to forgive, but if there was the tiniest chance, she would try. For her own sake. And for Aunt Thomasina.
