Justice Is a Woman (3 page)

had to support

his mother and four young ‘uns, an’ so he went back, along with some Irish the owners had brought in.

He said never again, never again. There was no room in the pits for him after that, and that’s when he

came to me. Oh, Geordie knows the feeling all right. He’s particularly mad at this minute

‘cos of the

order that’s just come in.”

“What order?”

“Well, what were you after afore you went away.”

“Oh, you mean the wireless cabinets. It’s clinched?”

“Aye, it’s clinched.”

“Oh, that’s splendid.”

^5 “Splendid? Yes, as you say, splendid, if you’re able to make them, but if they come out, what about

it?”

“Well, it’ll certainly hold things up, but I can’t see them being out for more than a couple of weeks or so;

the country wouldn’t stand it.”

“You’d be surprised, lad, what the country’ll stand. An’ you’ll be surprised at what those bloody

miners’ll stand to get a fair deal.

Mind, I’m not for them’ he stabbed his finger at his son ‘but at the same time I’m not agin them, for God

knows only starvin’ men and bloody madmen would go down a pit anyway. “

“Some like it.”

“What?”

“I said some like it working down the pit. It’s a way of life. You know it is.”

“I know no such bloody thing. They go down because there’s no other way for them to

get their bread.

Anyway, after you’ve had a bite I think you’d better get along there and have a crack with Geordie.

You won’t see any of the men, they’ll likely be gone by then, but try an’ find out what that Barry Smith

and Bill James is up to, because they’re two bloody red Russians, and they’re the

ringleaders, if I know

anything. I should ‘ave given them the push years ago.” Joe stood for a moment looking down at his

father, whose eyes were now directed to his knees, each cupped by a gnarled hand, and he asked

quietly, “What have you been doing while I’ve been away? Did you finish the ship?” z6

“The ship?”

Mike’s head came up. Then he shook it.

“Somehow, I hauled myself up to the glasshouse’ he jerked his head towards the steep

open staircase

that rose from the end of the room ‘and did a lot of gazing about me an’ quite a bit of thinkin’.” He

nodded slowly as he stared into Joe’s eyes and repeated, “Aye, quite a bit of thinkin’.”

“What about, may I ask?”

“You.”

The? “

“Aye; I said you. You and your marriage and your future. Look at me.”

“I’m looking.”

“I mean, look at me an’ me life: what have I done with it? Where’s it landed me? Fifty years of age. I

should be at the height of me power, but here I am, a prisoner of me bones.”

“You could be helped.” Joe’s voice was soft.

“I’ve told you, there are spas and places ...”

“And I’ve told you, lad, I’m goin’ to no bloody spas, sittin’ with me belly hangin’ over me pants and

seeing me self pictured in dozens of other bellies around me, and havin’ nurses, young

‘uns at that, seeing

to you as if you were senile. No, it’s not for me. What I’ve got I’ll put up with. As Graham says, I’m

me own worst enemy because I’ve voted for a slow death. The latest is, he’s talking of putting pins in

me hips. By the way, we’ve never talked of the person in question. Where is she?”

“She’s having a bath and a cup of tea. She told me to tell you she’ll be up very shortly.”

“Oh, I’m thrilled.”

2,7 “Father!”

“All right, all right, I’ll behave myself. I promise I’ll come out with nothing worse than bloody in her

hearing.”

“Do you like her?”

“I don’t know yet, lad. What have I seen of her in order to answer that question? You met her three

months ago on that trip to London when you went about the Bakelite for that order. Then she came

down here once for a week-end, during which time I spoke to her twice; no, no, I’m

tellin’ a lie, three

times. Then what do you do? You spring it on me you’re going to be married by special licence in

London and take your honeymoon on your holiday. And now you ask me, do I like

her ? ... Do you

like her?”

“What!” The word came out on a laugh.

“Just what I said, do you like her?”

“Oh, Father, don’t be silly. Why ask such a damn fool question?”

“That isn’t a damn fool question. And you’re no damn fool; you know what I mean all

right. There’s all

the difference in the world at ween likin’ and lovin’. Oh, you love her, I’ve no doubt about that. She’s

got into your blood. I saw that straightaway. But now the question you’ve got to ask

yourself is, do you

like her?

“Cos let me tell you this, lad, liking’s much more important in marriage than love, and you’ll find that

out. But’ he sighed deeply ‘what the hell am I goin’ on about. What we should be putting our minds to

at the present moment is not liking or loving but how we’re going to keep the z8 shops going if they start

getting at our blokes; so go on, get yourself off and down to see Geordie.”

Joe turned and made his way towards the door, saying on a laugh now, “All right, I’ll go straight down,

but you’ll have to look after my wife.”

He had opened the door and had one foot on the landing when his father spoke again, but softly:

“Joe.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t make the same mistakes I did, lad. No matter what happens, don’t do it.”

They stared at each other for a moment across the space before Joe closed the door and walked to the

top of the attic stairs. Before descending them he stood with his head bent, his teeth biting the side of his

lip as he looked down them. Don’t make the same mistakes I did, his father had said. By God! no. Oh

no, he wouldn’t do that.

No matter what happened, he wouldn’t do that. 29 “All right, darling; but promise me, now promise me

faithfully you will take me into Newcastle tomorrow night and do a show and perhaps a dance. Oh yes,

let’s dance.” Elly put her hand across the dining-room table and caught his.

“All right, I promise, a show or a dance, perhaps both, that’s if you behave yourself tonight and be very

tactful and don’t turn your nose up at anything you might see or hear.”

“As if I would.”

“Yes, as if you would. All right then, I’ll put you to the test:

we’ll call in at Clan Egan’s house before we go to the meeting. “

“That’s the man who never stops talking;

Brooks’s father-in-law? “

“David’s father-in-law.” He held up a finger as if chastising her.

“Oh Joe!” She shook her head at him now.

“I can’t get used to calling the servants by their Christian names. And there’s something else, we really

must do something about Ella.” She was bending forward, whispering now: “She can’t be called Ella

when you will insist on calling me Elly. Why, this morning when you called across the hall, she came

running from the kitchen. I’ve told you, it won’t 30 do; she must answer to something entirely different,

such as Annie or Jane.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell her, won’t you?” He cut into a piece of Stilton, placed it on a dry biscuit, then

bit on it before adding, “But I know what her reactions will be. Eeh! ma’am, what!

change me name ?

I’ve always been called Ella. I don’t see why I should change it. No, no; I don’t see why I should.”

“She wouldn’t dare.”

He stopped chewing and looked at his wife. His expression was straight, rather stiff now, and all banter

had gone from his voice as he said, “She would dare. I’ve told you, Elly, these people are individuals.”

“They’re servants.”

“Yes, they might be, as we’re all servants one way or another, but they’re not the bowing and scraping

kind you’re used to. I warned you, I told you.”

Reaching out towards the cheese tray, she took up a small piece of Cheshire and almost slapped it on to

her plate as she said, “As I see it, when you’re paying people they should be made to conform to set

standards.”

“This isn’t London or Huntingdon, this is the North East of England.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” She was nodding her head briskly now.

“You’ve told me that so often in the past week that I’ve no doubt about it at all now.

Definitely it is the

North East of England, and it’s more foreign, I might tell you, than a foreign country; they even speak a

different language.”

Now he was laughing, his head bent, his chin gripped in his fist, and he nodded as he said, “You’re right

there, but if you study hard you’ll soon learn it; they’ll be only too eager to help you, all of them.”

“Oh, don’t be facetious.”

His head came up, the smile left his face again and he stared at her for a moment before he muttered,

“It’s about time we were going; that is, if you’re still coming with me?”

She looked up at him, unblinking.

“Yes, I’ll come with you ... in a moment,” she said and rang the small bell that was to her hand on the

table. When the door opened and Duffy entered, his tall, lean body seeming to act as

merely a peg for

his dark suit, she turned her head slightly towards him and said, “Send Ella in to me, will you please?”

Duffy did not answer, “Yes, ma’am,” but stared at her for a second before turning about and going out.

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Joe.

“What?” As she spoke the door opened and Ella entered. Ella took after her Aunty Mary in many

ways, the most obvious being her smallness and inclination to plumpness. She was also pretty. She

came right up to the edge of the table and, looking at her mistress, she said, “You wanted me, ma’am?”

“Yes.” Elaine’s voice was smooth, even sweet.

“It’s ... it’s about your name.”

The name, ma’am? “

“Yes, your name. You see it’s all very confusing, because my husband’ she glanced

towards Joe ‘insists

on abbreviating my own name which, I’m sure you have noticed, sounds similar to yours, and so in future

we will call you by another name. Which would you like? Jane, Mary, Annie?”

Ella had moved one step away from the table. She now glanced towards the young

master, who was

standing at the sideboard with his back to her; then she looked at her new mistress again, and her face no

longer looked pretty but pugnacious as she said, The name’s Ella, ma’am. I’ve always

been Ella and I

don’t fancy being called Mary or Jane or Annie, but if it’s got to be, then himself will have to tell me. But

I doubt if he will, as he always calls me Ella. “

The mistress and the maid stared at each other and it was evident that the mistress could hardly believe

her ears. She turned now and looked towards her husband and Joe said grimly, “Leave

it.” There was a

full minute’s silence in the room before Ella turned about and marched away, and the

door had hardly

closed behind her before Joe burst out, “I told you! I warned you! You’re getting off on the wrong foot:

it’s no good trying to get your own way with a silver tongue;

they can see through it; and once you get their backs up you won’t be able to get near them; the Roman

Wall will be easier to get through, I keep telling you. “

“Yes, you keep telling me. We’ve been married just over three weeks and all you have

done is tell me

what I must do in order to survive here. Now you can tell me something. Who’s master in this house,

and who is to be mistress of it? Or, if there is to be no mistress, just a master, again I ask you, who is

it?” There was another long pause before Joe said gruffly, “As long as my father’s alive he’s the master

here: he built this house, he loves the place, even if it has turned into his prison. Does that answer your

question?”

“And what is your position?”

He thrust his jaw forward and brought his teeth together, slanting his gaze at her before saying, “Just the

son, and the manager of the works, and it’s likely to stay that way for a very long time because arthritis

kills slowly. And that’s how I would want it.” He moved towards her now and gently

drew her to her

feet, and when they were face to face, his deep brown eyes looking into her clear grey ones, and his tone

once again soft and placating, he said, “But there’s no question as to who’s mistress.” His arms went

about her and his lips brushed themselves backwards and forwards over her brow as he

murmured,

“Play it softly, dearest. Try to play it softly.” Looking into her eyes again, he said brightly, “Come on;

let’s go over to David’s. You’ve never seen his house; nor have you met Hazel. She came back from

visiting her mother’s last night. Come on now, and let them see you as I see you. Let them all see you as

I see you and then they’ll love you; they won’t be able to help themselves.” He pressed her tightly to

him, and after a moment she responded and they kissed and made up for the second time since she had

come into the house five days ago. The Cottage, as it was called, was situated to the side of the entrance

gates. It was actually the original house that had been built two hundred years previously and had taken

its name from the land known as Fell Rise, but when Mike Remington created his dream

twenty-five

years before, he had transferred the name to his house and the original Fell Rise had been renamed The

Cottage. It was a pretty place, both inside and out. Black timbers patterned the outside, and inside, the

thick beams that ran down the middle of the livingroom ceiling were still in excellent condition, with hardly

a trace of worm in them. And the furniture, too, was in keeping, being mostly of black oak, with