Justice Is a Woman (27 page)

did she continue, “You’ve always made mistakes, and one of them was to isolate yourself up here. Oh

yes, I know, I know’ she closed her eyes now ‘it’s the view. But I don’t think it’s only the view that

keeps you stuck in these rooms.”

“So you have been thinking about my particular mistake?”

Her eyes now stretched slightly and she said, “Is your staying up here connected with that

... your

particular mistake?”

“Aye, in a way you could say it is; but only in a way.”

“Oh, it sounds interesting.”

“Don’t start laughing, lass, for it’s no laughing matter.”

“I wasn’t laughing.”

“You’re amused.”

“Mike—’ She now leant towards him and said slowly and definitely, “ If I didn’t laugh at myself, and

others at times, I’d go mad. Do you realise that? “

He stared back at her before he replied quietly, “Aye. Aye, I do. If anyone’s had a wasted life it’s you;

and I’ve helped to make it so these last few years.”

She took a sip of her tea before she said, “Don’t expect me to contradict you and make things easier for

you,” and he laughed, and his crippled hand shook so much he had to put his cup and

saucer onto the

side table. Then, looking at her again, he said, “We’ve strayed.

Where were we in the beginning? We were talking about our Joe, weren’t we? “

z6z

“Yes, we were talking about Joe.”

“Do you think he’s got a woman back there’ he motioned towards the window ‘in the

town?”

She wetted her lips and stared at him for a few seconds before she said, “Why ask me?

You can’t

imagine he confides in me on such matters.”

“Well, he talks to you, doesn’t he? He talks to you more than he talks to me now.”

“Well, I can assure you that the subject hasn’t come up.”

“There’s no need to get on your high horse about it; it was only a question.”

“And what a question.”

“Well, it puzzles me, because I can’t think that he’s gone without all these years. He’s me son, and he’s

a man, very much a man; he couldn’t have put up with being denied his rights all these years ...”

“Rights?”

“Aye, rights. It’s a man’s rights to have satisfaction from his wife.”

“And what about the woman’s rights? Oh, I’m not just thinking of Elaine. What if a

woman can’t get...

satisfaction as you call it and goes off into town?” She imitated him now in nodding

towards the window.

“Would people excuse her and say she’s done it because she’s been deprived of her

rights? No, she’d

be hounded.”

“Look—’ He eased himself slowly towards the edge of the chair and, peering at her, said,

“ What’s got

into you? Don’t take it personal;

you sound like one of those suffragettes. “

“Perhaps I am one at heart. I know this much:

that your dominant male doesn’t carry any water with me; most women could buy a man

at one end of

the street and sell him at the other, in business and otherwise. Did you see that case in the paper the

other morning that made frontpage headlines? A man was brought up for badly using his wife. And why

did he badly use her? To quote his own words, because she was always one up on him.

Apparently the

woman was highly intelligent and had married beneath her and, like many other men, he couldn’t stand a

woman, particularly his wife, knowing more than himself. So what does he do? He beats her up. And

that’s just one case. “

“Well, I never!”

Mike was grinning widely now and once more he was lying back in his chair; then,

looking at her, he

said slowly, “You are on your high horse the night, aren’t you? But talking about that case. Aye, I read

it and, strange as it may seem, I agree with you; that is up to a point because’ now the smile left his face

‘it’s my opinion, and I think you’ve heard it afore, that no man, if he’s sensible, should marry a woman

who’s better educated than himself. Let him be the one to be educated and bring her up to his standard;

oh aye, that’s all right, but a man being a man needs to be looked up to with pride. But if a woman,

especially the one he marries, has more up top than him, it thins his pride and he feels less of a man. I

know what I’m speaking about because I’m speaking from experience.”

z64

Betty got to her feet and, picking up his cup and saucer from the table, she placed it on the tray before

she said, in a low voice, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Don’t apologise, lass, just give me me cup back; I haven’t finished me tea.”

She did not take the half-empty cup back to him but poured him out a fresh one, and as she placed it in

his hand he looked gently up at her and said, “We’ve got a week on our own; let’s make the best of it,

lass.”

She smiled at him now, then went to the fire and using the tongs she banked it up with some coal from

the scuttle; then, as she dusted her hands, he said, “Did Joe tell you where he’s taking the boy the

morrow?”

“Yes. Yes, he told me.”

“Do you believe in this hypnotism?”

She turned towards him but looked past him thoughtfully for a moment before she

replied, “I don’t

know. I don’t know enough about it; in fact, I don’t know anything about it, but I

understand that Mr.

Levey’s brother is a very good doctor and has been using this form of treatment on

special cases for

some time.”

“Yes, that’s what I understand an’ all. But it’s a funny business probing the mind. Still, if the man’s able

to ease whatever is troubling the lad, then I’m all for it. I’m all for anything that will stop those screaming

fits. By! the sound makes me blood curdle every time I hear him. But there’s one thing I’m afraid of.”

He looked up at her and nodded slowly now.

“That he’ll come out worse than he went in: as it is, he can’t remember what he did, but what’s going to

happen if he should remember?”

“I’ve thought of that and Joe’s thought of that, but apparently, as I understand it, hypnosis can quell the

memory.”

“Quell the memory?” Mike shook his head.

“It sounds like acting God, and I always suspect anybody who attempts that. Still, we’ll see what we

shall see ... I wonder what Madame Elaine will say when she gets back? I can tell you one thing:

she wouldn’t have allowed any hypnotist to get at her son if she’d been here. What do you say? “

Betty didn’t reply, but in her mind she endorsed what Mike had said:

No; no hypnotist would have been allowed to tamper with the boy if Elaine had been

here.

It had snowed steadily throughout the night and Joe, driving the car along the deserted road that passed

through the mining village towards the town, glanced at Martin and grinned as he said,

“Well, that’s a nice

start, betting me half-a-crown that I won’t be able to drive the car back; I’ll take you on.”

“Well, look at those drifts.” Martin pointed out of the window.

“They must be all of four feet high.”

“You’ve got your measurements wrong. Anyway, they’re not drifts, they’re likely just

humps of snow

thrown up on the bank.”

“You won’t say that when you’ve got to pay me that half-a-crown.”

They smiled at each other now. Then presently the boy said, “Will Dr. Levey be able to stop my

nightmares. Father?”

“He’ll have a good try.”

“What will he do?”

“Oh, he’ll just talk to you.”

“Well, Dr. Pearce has talked to me and that hasn’t stopped them.”

“But there are all kinds of doctors: you don’t go to the optician to have your teeth out, do you?

nor to the dentist if you want spectacles; there’s doctors for all kinds of things. “

And that was true. Yes, there were doctors for all kinds of things, and he hoped he was doing right in

getting this one to probe into the boy’s mind. He’d spent a wakeful night going over and over the

situation and wondering if he was doing the right thing.

He had explained to Dr. Levey that the boy had accidentally killed his baby sister; he did not say his

monstrosity of a sister. Now what he was asking him to do was to erase the memory of it from the boy’s

mind. Hypnotism, as he saw it, was based on suggestion, and if he could suggest that he should forget the

whole incident, then the boy could have a normal future before him, even that of a

student attending a

university, because he was a bright boy;

but, as things stood, such a future could not be contemplated for a student who would probably raise

someone’s household with unearthly screams in the middle of the night.

If the experiment was successful he would blame himself for not having taken Marcus’s suggestion

earlier, for it was almost four years now since Marcus had suggested taking the boy to his brother for

hypnotic treatment. But at the time the very term had smelt of hocus-pocus;

whereas now, as he understood it, hypnosis could be induced in all normal persons under suitable

conditions, and also in those who weren’t normal.

Dr. Levey had talked of sub-conscious awareness;

a stage which, when reached by the patient, would make him so receptive to suggestion that he could

be made to re-enact the particular incident or incidents that were worrying him.

Well, he didn’t really want his son to relive that night again, yet if it meant obliterating the memory then

the boy would have to endure it.

“He won’t keep me in, like a hospital, will he?”

“No, of course not.”

“What will he do?”

“Oh, just talk to you, as I said, and expect you to talk to him.” .

And that was exactly what was happening, Joe thought, a short while later, whilst sitting well back in a

deep chair in the comfortable room and listening to Dr. Levey and Martin talking. Of all things, they

were chatting about football and the chances of Newcastle United. It appeared that Dr.

Levey favoured

Sunderland, and Martin laughed as he said, “That’s not right, and you living in

Newcastle, doctor.”

“I know it isn’t right,” replied the doctor; ‘but don’t let on. “ And at this they both laughed again.

“Now just lie back in the chair. That’s it... look straight at me .. you’ve got a very fine pair of eyes ...

Now when I count up to six you will go to sleep.

“One ... two ... three ... four ... five ... six.”

Joe watched the boy’s eyes close and his body slump further down in the chair; then he listened to the

doctor saying, “Are you afraid of anything, Martin?”

There was a pause before the answer came.

“Yes, about ... about dreaming of the black lady.”

“The black lady? What does she do to frighten you?”

“I ... I can’t remember; it’s a long time ago.”

“How long? When you were a baby?”

Martin did not answer, and the doctor said, “Go right back, Martin, to the time when you first saw the

black lady.”

“No, no! No. No.” The boy’s head was wagging from side to side; his whole body

became agitated;

but the doctor’s voice went on quietly, “What is she doing? Tell me, Martin, what is the black lady

doing?”

“Oh no, no! No, no.” The boy now placed his hand, with fingers spread wide, over his

face.

“What are you seeing through your fingers, Martin?”

“The ... the black lady. The black lady.”

“What is she doing?”

“Oh. 0 ... h, she is ... she is. Oh. Oh, no; no, don’t! Tipping up tipping up the mattress.

Poor little

girl. Poor little girl. Oh, no. No, don’t, please. Please don’t.”

Now the boy’s hands were thrashing about in the air and he was crying, “Wake up! Wake up! little

girl. Poor little girl. Wake up! little girl.” Then again he spread his hand across his face, but this time his

mouth opened wide and he emitted a long, piercing scream, followed by another, and

another.

The doctor’s voice cut into the spine-chilling sound, saying quietly, “It’s all over, Martin.

It’s all over.

Lie still.”

When the boy became still the doctor went on.

“The black lady has gone. She’s gone away, away, away, and she won’t trouble you any

more.

Never again will you dream of her. The incident will remain like a memory you can’t

recall .. Now co to

sleep for ten minutes and dream that you are watching Newcastle United play football. “

Joe was on his feet, but instead of looking at the doctor he was staring at his son; yet at the same time

not seeing him, for the whole screen of his mind was taken up with the black lady, while a voice deafened

his brain, yelling, “My God! My God!”

The black lady. Elaine! And that black negligee!

It had been a puzzling mystery to everyone how the heavy iron side of the cot had been lowered. He

could hear Betty’s voice saying, “It’s impossible, it’s impossible. Nellie must have left it down by

mistake.” And he could hear Nellie almost going into hysterics as she denied this.

“Martin could have rattled it down,” she had said; ‘he could have rattled it down. “

Secretly Joe had gone into the nursery, lain on the floor, put his hands up and rattled the side of the cot

to see if it would jump its sockets, but it hadn’t.

Why hadn’t he probed the mystery further? Why? Had he known in his mind all the time

that she had

done this? No, no. But why had he let the matter drop ? Was it because, like everybody else, he had

thought it was the best thing that could have happened to the child? Again, no, no!

“Do you understand about the black lady?”