Justice Is a Woman (12 page)

words: he might be

crippled yet he still considered himself a man. And indeed he was. Like herself, there was another being

underneath his skin.

“Now look, stop arguing, Betty, you’re going in style.”

“But it isn’t a mile down the road, Joe, and I don’t know how long I’ll be there.”

“Well, if you’re there until tomorrow morning David’ll wait for you.”

“It’s ridiculous. It isn’t as if the roads were wet, and I like walking. You know I do. And what if I

can’t get away before five?

What’ll you do to get back without the car? “

“You let me worry about that. Do as you’re told for once.”

“Oh, that’s funny.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Joe looked across the breakfast table towards her and said quietly,

“You’re at

everybody’s beck and call; you never seem to have a minute to yourself.”

“How do you know? You’re not here all day.”

“I have spies.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt about that.”

“But they’re nice spies.”

“And I’ve no doubt about that either.”

As they smiled at each other, he said quietly, “I’m very glad you’re here, Betty; Elaine’s been as

different again since you came. As she said, and rightly, there was no-one here who

spoke her

language. You will stay on until the baby comes?”

“If she wants me to.”

“Oh, she wants you to. We all want you to, particularly himself.

You’ve scored a bull’s-eye up there, I might tell you. “

“Oh, don’t go on.” She flapped her large square hand at him.

“By the sound of it I’m qualifying for stripes.”

“Well, you could say something like that.”

“Nonsense! Anyway, about the car ...”

“No more about the car. It’ll be at the door at five minutes to three and David’ll deliver you on the dot.”

“You’re not thinking about buying a uniform for him, are you?”

“Well, that’s an idea. I hadn’t thought of it, but it is an idea.” He got to his feet now, glanced at his

watch, compared it with the marble clock standing in the middle of the marble

mantelpiece, altered the

hands a fraction, then said, “Well, I must be off. Goodbye, Betty.”

“Goodbye, Joe; and thanks for the car.” He turned from the door and grinned at her; then, jerking his

chin upwards, he said, “We’ll let ‘em see.” She rose from the table and walked to the dining room

window that looked out onto the end of the drive, and she stood there for about five

minutes until she

saw him descending the steps. She watched him pause at the bottom and look up into the sky, then pull

the peak of his trilby hat firmly down over his brow and turn up the collar of his coat before stepping into

the car and taking the wheel.

She stood at the window until the car disappeared from her view down the drive, then she turned about

and slowly drew her teeth tightly over her bottom lip.

At three o’clock exactly David drew the Rolls to a stop at the bottom of the broad stone steps which led

up to a stone balcony and thence to a front door, unusually shaped in that it had a rounded top, and as he

opened the car door Betty discerned a twinkle in his eye. After helping her to alight, he walked before

her up the steps, pulled the iron handle attached to the wall, and waited until the door was opened before

bowing slightly and returning down the steps to the car.

The footman was not in livery but he wore a black suit and a white collar and tie, which did nothing to

disguise his position, for, his head slightly to the side and his voice holding a definite note of hauteur, he

said, “Miss Hughes Burton

“Yes.”

“You’re expected. Would you please come this way?”

“Thank you.” They were only two words but their inflexion brought the footman’s head

to a more level

position.

Betty now followed him through a small hall, the floor of which was tiled and resembled that of a

butcher’s shop; then they entered the main hall. Here the walls from floor to ceiling were lined with a

dark wood and, as if this wasn’t depressing enough, animals’ heads, mostly horned,

seemed to protrude

from the panelling in every part of the room that wasn’t taken up by the windows, doors and the

staircase.

The floor was covered in Persian rugs so worn in parts that they wrinkled under her feet.

She was now walking down a short wide corridor, and at the end of it the footman

stopped, tapped

twice on the door, opened it and announced in precise tones, “Miss Hughes Burton

“Oh, there you are. There you are. Come in. Do you know that your reply didn’t come

until eleven

o’clock this morning? Come along, sit down; you look frozen. This is the worst part of the country in

the world. Do you know that? Open your coat or you won’t find the good of it when you go out Bring

in the tea, Rogers, and don’t stint on the cakes.”

During all this Betty had walked up the long drawing-room and taken the proffered seat, the while

unobtrusively taking in the room. In a way it was on a par with the hall; the only

difference being that it

was lighter, for this room, too, was a showcase for trophies and pieces of elaborate china and furniture,

all representing travel. The china cabinets held rows of silver cups, whilst small tables showed off groups

of ivories and Chinese figures and ornaments; the only homely touch in the room was the enormous

Chesterfield suite, which had once been beautiful, having been upholstered in green

velvet with a gold

tasselled fringe, and which, in its faded old age, still gave off an air of comfort.

“How are you?” Betty inclined her head towards her hostess who, pulling a large woollen shawl closer

about her shoulders, exclaimed briefly, “Bored .. bored to death. I would have been gone weeks ago

but James is on his last legs and Sarah wants me to stay till the end. Why, I don’t know; we fight like cat

and dog. She’s dull, nothing up top.” She now tapped her forehead, and all Betty could do was to

remain silent and prevent herself from laughing outright and asking herself how a human being came to be

like this, so utterly unselfconscious and oblivious to the age in which she lived, as was strikingly evident in

her dress, which was even more old-fashioned than her travelling outfit had been, for it had a number of

overlapping skirts. She couldn’t see the bodice because of the shawl, but the cuffs of the dress were at

least six inches deep and were fastened with a long row of pearl buttons.

“How are you getting on along there?” The tousled grey head was jerked in the direction of the

drawing-room door.

“Oh, very well.”

“Your sister good to you?”

“Yes, oh yes, very good.”

“They’re a funny family she’s married into, so Sarah says.”

“In what way do you mean?” Betty’s tone was cool now.

“Oh well, you hear things, just rumours. And he, the father, coarse man, isn’t he?

Coarse man. “

“I find him a very intelligent man.”

“Intelligent, do you? Well! well! it isn’t often you find coarse men intelligent. I prefer coarse men;

they’re always more interesting than polite, gentlemanly ones. Most of those turn out to have no guts.

Two of my husbands were coarse, the first two.” She bounced her head now towards

Betty, then

exclaimed loudly, “Ah, here it comes,” as the door opened and the footman wheeled in a trolley, When

the man had brought the trolley to the side of the couch the old lady peered down on it; then, picking up

a minute sandwich, she opened it.

“Cucumber. Ah! Cucumber always give me indigestion;

haven’t you got anything else in the kitchen but cucumber? “ She was staring up at the footman with her

piercing gaze, and he replied in an almost soothing tone, “ There are egg and tomato

below, milady. “

“Oh. Oh, that’s all right then. Just leave it; Miss Burton will pour out. You’re used to pouring out tea,

aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Betty smiled faintly.

“Yes, I’m used to pouring out tea.”

“Well, get on with it;

I’m as dry as a fish. They had baked ham for lunch; it was salty. “

Betty poured out the tea from the heavy silver teapot into the paper-thin china cups, and when she

handed Lady Ambers her cup the old woman said, “Thanks, me dear, thanks. Oh, it is

nice to have tea

poured out for you and to have company. I miss company; someone to talk to. Have a

sandwich. The

egg are at the bottom. You heard what he said.”

“I’ll have a cucumber one.”

“Please yourself; it’s your digestion.”

Betty had barely sat down and was about to take her first sip of tea when she was startled by her

hostess exclaiming, “It must be a bloody life having to say, “ Yes, ma’am” and “ No,

ma’am” to people.

I don’t mean footmen and butlers and the household staff. No, no; not them;

they’re servants, they were bred to it, as we were bred to accept their service. But I mean people like

you, an intelligent, refined woman having to run after old bitches. And there are some old bitches about,

I know that.

I remember your telling me on the train that you were with Mrs. Boulton-Westbrook.

Well, if she was

anything like her sister, I pity you. She had a companion for years; treated her like a doormat. Then

when the poor thing took ill she let her go into a home, not the kind for distressed ladies but some place

run by a council. You know the kind . well, perhaps you don’t, but they’re awful. I

opened one once,

and as I said to the mayor at the time, I wished to God I was closing it; terrible place, green-painted

walls and wooden chairs. I wouldn’t treat anyone like that. I’ve never had a companion up to now,

never met anyone I’d want to live with, not any woman anyway, but now I think it’s time I had a

companion. I’ve been thinking about it a lot since I met you on the train. I like you, girl, I like you. “

She leaned forward and poked the blunt-edged silver tea-knife into Betty’s arm.

“You’ve got a kind face and a sympathetic manner, but at the same time, I can tell, you wouldn’t stand

any nonsense from me.

Now would you? “

As she grinned widely Betty, too, leaned forward and placed her tea cup on the trolley before bowing

her head. She could hardly contain her laughter from bursting forth. Then she did let it ripple, but not to

its full extent, as the old lady said, “Do you want to laugh ?

Well, laugh; it’s good to hear people laugh. I used to be able to make people laugh at one time. They’d

always ask me to parties. I was the life and soul of any do but .. “ She suddenly stopped talking, placed

her half-eaten sandwich down on the plate, let her head fall against the back of the couch; then she

parted her lips wide, lifted up her bottom set of teeth with her tongue and extracted what might have been

a crumb of bread or a piece of egg from her gums, wiped her finger on the tea napkin and said slowly, “

But there’s nothing much to laugh at any more, especially here in this house. Sarah and James are old

before their time. He’s not eighty yet, and he’s in his dotage, and Sarah only seventy-five and acting as if

she were coming up to her century.

And that’s why’ she now brought her head forward and fixed her gaze on Betty as she

ended “I would

like you to be my companion.”

Betty remained silent, for she was engulfed in a wave of pity for this woman who had

been everywhere,

seen everything at least so she had implied on the train and who now was old and very tired and lonely.

“I’d be good to you; I wouldn’t let you go into a home if you stayed by me. Have you any money of

your own; I mean, an income?”

“No.”

“Nothing?”

“No; only what I earn.”

“Well, then, I would provide for you. Yes, I would, I would. I’d make an agreement.

What do you

say?”

H What could she say? A moment ago she had wanted to laugh uproariously, now she

was almost on

the verge of tears. She swallowed deeply before she said quietly, “I am most grateful for your offer,

Lady Ambers, and ... and under other circumstances I would have accepted it, and gladly, but, you see,

my sister is going to have a baby early next year and I have promised to stay with her until then, and for a

little time afterwards.”

“A little time after? Then what?”

“Well, I ... I don’t really know, but ... but if your offer is still open I would be glad to discuss it again.”

“You would?”

“Yes; yes, I would. And thank you very much.”

“You’re a nice girl.”

Betty lowered her head slightly, blinked, smiled, then said, “I’m on my best behaviour today.”

The laugh the old lady let out sounded, Betty thought, almost as loud as her own when she got going.

“Have a cake?”

“Thank you.”

“You know ... you know something?”

Betty waited.

“When I was in that train with you I thought that my travelling days were over, and me only

sixty-seven.” She paused as if waiting to see what effect the statement of her age would have on Betty;

but Betty didn’t blink an eyelid, and she went on, “I thought I’d have to spend the rest of my days

looking at James slavering and listening to Sarah moaning. But after three weeks of it I know I couldn’t

stand it. And this house. Did you ever see

IZI

anything so dull as this house ? Then James took to his bed and, as I told you, I’m stuck here until he

goes, and then it’s back to an hotel. I live in hotels, you know, I haven’t any settled home, but—’ She