Justice Is a Woman (33 page)

“What about?”

“Martin let it slip that he had been to the Christmas concert with David.”

“After all this time?”

“After all this time. And not only that, but that he had been in the Egans’ house more than once. Elaine

went on like someone insane; I’d never heard anything like it. I thought she was in for another spasm of

hysteria. But no, this was a bout of sheer virulent temper. Oh, how she hates David and Hazel. It’s

beyond all reason. If either of them had ever done anything to her you could understand it, but right from

the first time she set eyes on David she’s loathed him.”

Betty shook her head and glanced towards the

fire. Yes, she knew Elaine loathed David; she knew that in many people there was a

natural bias to

colour; but she, too, had never been able to understand Elaine’s antipathy towards the young man, for

no-one could be nicer or more pleasant than David. She looked at Joe again and asked,

“What was the

outcome?”

“Well,” he sighed, “I was supposed to be off tonight to York for a conference, as, of course, I shall do

tomorrow. But at one time, Betty, I really did think it would have to be tomorrow before I could leave

there, because I became so blindly furious with her, I... I don’t know how I prevented myself from telling

her what I’d learned.

But I knew if I had, the session would have gone on all night. “

“Oh my dear.”

“How did the old lady fare at the hospital?” Joe now asked.

She smiled as she replied, “You should ask how the staff will fare,” and at this they both laughed;

then, her face becoming straight, she said, “I feel a little guilty at deceiving her.”

“Don’t. You know, somehow I think she’d understand.”

“Yes, perhaps she would. Being who she is perhaps she would ... I made something to

eat. It just

needs warming up. You must be hungry.”

“I couldn’t eat a bite. Honestly. I’m sorry if you’ve gone to any trouble, but just a cup of coffee.” They

again stared at each other in silence; then, their hands still clasped, they rose and went into the kitchen ..

It was midnight. Joe lay with his head on her breast, his arm about her bare waist. He had never felt so

content in his life before. He loved this woman. He knew, as in the moment when pure

truth is revealed,

that he loved her, and not just because her body had satisfied him as no other had done, but because she

was who she was;

Betty:

a woman he had lived in the same house with for years without once touching her; a

woman whose mind

was broad and whose heart was big and whose compassion was boundless.

He now moved his lips against the firm flesh of her breast, and she made no response in any way. She

had not spoken a word since his first gentle loving, nor through his not so gentle taking, when his mind

became subordinate to his senses, nor since he had lain in the deep valley of contentment against her

warm flesh. He now took his hand from her waist and turned her face towards him and

saw in her eyes

an emotion that was impossible for him to translate into words. Winding his fingers now in her loose hair,

he brought his face slowly down to her and, placing his lips on her mouth, he lay still.

They had sung, “We’ll hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line’, but they hadn’t been able to do it.

When, on 3 September 1939, Chamberlain’s appeasement of fear had failed and England

declared war

on Germany, the sirens went for real for the first time and people scuttled to the air-raid shelters and

waited for the bombs to rain down. But nothing happened that day, nor the next, nor the next, and as

days moved into weeks the whole thing became a bit of an anti-climax. Except for what was happening

in France.

But then there was the Maginot Line, wasn’t there ?

Poland, of course, had got it hot and heavy, but Poland was a long way away. As long as the Germans

didn’t bomb here, that’s all that mattered. Of course, there were irritations, such as blackouts and having

to carry gas masks in those horrible little boxes. And then you weren’t allowed to use the headlights on

your car.

And, of course, there had been the business of evacuating schoolchildren and teachers, together with

mothers with children under five, from what were known as danger areas.

32. 5

Re-shuffling the population, in those first months, had been as big a headache as

organising rationing.

And by early 1940 many of the evacuees had returned home. Yet, later in the year, after Dunkirk, when

Hitler’s bombing sent them scattering from the industrial towns, doors that had been shut were now

opened to them. There was a broadening of understanding of how the other half lived, at least among

certain sections of society, for there were still those who strenuously refused to give shelter to evacuees;

and Elaine was one of them.

“Where,” she asked Betty, and not for the first time, ‘would we put them? “

“We still have one spare room, and the morning—room could be turned into a bedroom.”

“Why not suggest taking over my sitting-room?”

“Well, it didn’t happen, anyway, and it certainly won’t now.”

“Look!” Elaine peered through narrowed eyelids at Betty before she went on slowly,

‘what’s come

over you recently? You’re different:

you’ve turned into a different being during this last year; you have no concern for me now at all. “

“Perhaps you’re right.” Betty nodded slowly now.

“Looking back, I’d say I’ve wasted years of concern on you.”

“Well!” Elaine took a step back and she narrowed her eyes as she said, “Now we’re

coming into the

open, aren’t we? Now we know where we stand. Are you looking for an excuse to leave?

Because if

you are, it’s a dirty way to go about it. And it would be just like you to walk out and go to that old horror when you’re most needed here. “

“And what am I needed for? Tell me what I am needed for. Not to see to Mike, because

you don’t

give a damn what happens to Mike. What you need me for, Elaine, is to enable you to

continue your

jaunts to London; you couldn’t go off so frequently and leave Martin to his own devices if I weren’t here,

because Martin might take to visiting The Cottage, or some other infectious place. And don’t tell me that

it is concern for Uncle that takes you up there, because I’d laugh in your face. You

haven’t fooled

anyone ... anyone. You understand?”

Her mouth agape, Elaine was now standing with her back to the couch.

Her face was red with temper and she stammered as she said, “I ... I wou .. would never have believed

it ... And what do you mean, I haven’t fooled anyone? What do you mean?”

“I’ll leave you to work that out, Elaine. And also, I think you’d better spend the afternoon writing a long

letter to Lionel and explaining how it will be impossible for you to come up this week-end, as Betty has

walked out.”

Elaine slowly eased herself to the front of the couch and, gripping the edge of it, she said,

“You’re not!

You wouldn’t.”

“I am, and I will. In any case I’d have to leave shortly. You’ve just said you’ve noticed a difference in

me during the last year. Well, I’ve been wondering that you didn’t also notice a greater difference

recently, for I am now four and a half months

pregnant and my baby will be born in October. “

Elaine fell back against the couch and, bringing her hands up, she placed them one after the other across

the lower part of her face; and then, her hands leaving her face, she flapped them as if throwing off

something unclean as slowly, her lips spreading away from her teeth, she hissed, “You!

and that dirty old

man up there? You’re disgusting, filthy.”

“Shut up!”

“I won’t shut up. I could go up there and spit on him, and you too.”

Then she shrank back as Betty took two quick steps forward and, bending towards her,

said with deep

bitterness, “How often I’ve wanted to take my hand and slap you across the face, and

never more than

at this moment. You dare to call anyone filthy or dirty when you’ve been carrying on

with a married man

for years under Joe’s nose, while depriving him of his rights under the pretext of nerves.

Your first

breakdown might have had some reality about it, but you’ve used it since to have your way and deprive

him of his rights as a husband. And now you dare turn your lip up at me. Well, for your information I’ll

tell you that the father of my child doesn’t happen to be Mike. If I’d known years ago what I know now

he would have been, and I would have had a family running around me in this house.

And I would have

been its mistress; I wouldn’t have had to say thank you to you for the pittance you gave me;

that is, until Joe found you out. “

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The colour drained from Elaine’s face now, the skin looking as taut as a piece of

alabaster. Her eyes

were wide and almost spitting fire as she cried, “You wouldn’t have been here at all if it hadn’t been for

me. You would have been pushed from dog to devil, going the rounds as an unpaid

companion. You’ve

had the run of the house, you’ve done what you liked, and I still say it’s dirty and

indecent that you, at

your age, should go with a man. I suppose the old witch arranged it. Was it her

chauffeur?”

Betty’s hand came out and up, but just as Joe’s had done years previously it halted in mid-air. She

closed her eyes and as her hand dropped to her side so did her head bow on to her chest, and she

turned slowly about and went from the room. But before she closed the door Elaine’s

voice hit her, as

she shouted, “You’re pathetic! That’s what you are, pathetic!”

Blindly now, Betty made her way across the landing but, hearing Martin’s voice in the hall below and

knowing he would come to her room, she began to mount the stairs to Mike’s quarters.

But half-way up

she stood and leant her head against the wall and repeated to herself, “Pathetic. Pathetic.”

Was that

how she would appear to others, pathetic? She hadn’t felt pathetic, at least not until now.

For weeks she had felt wonderful, warm, alive, and everyone had said how well she

looked. She hadn’t

meant it to end like this. They’d had it all planned:

she was going to make the excuse that she must go and look after Lady Mary, who was

ill. She had

thought to be away by next week. The hardest

part, she had considered, would be telling Mike;

and now that hard part lay immediately before her and she didn’t know how she would

begin the telling

of it.

As if the child was already bearing her down, she walked heavily up the rest of the stairs and into Mike’s

sitting-room.

He greeted her straightaway. Shambling from the workshop, he said, “That was you and

her at it,

wasn’t it? I thought the bloody Germans had arrived without knocking. What’s the

matter, lass?” He

came slowly towards her, and for answer she said immediately and simply, “I’m leaving, Mike.”

He stared at her but didn’t answer, then moved towards his chair near the window; and he looked out

and up into the bright blue sky before he said, “I’ve never heard you say it like that afore.

You mean it

this time. For good, is it?”

“Yes, Mike.”

He was looking at her again.

“What brought it about?”

She went slowly towards him and took the seat facing him, the seat she had sat in for years whenever he

had wanted a bit of a crack, as he called it. Then, her head bowed slightly but her eyes still looking into

his, she said quietly, “I’m going to have a baby, Mike. I’m pregnant.”

It was a good thirty seconds before he made any response whatever; and then he hitched himself in the

leather chair and took in a deep breath and emitted one word: “Aye.”

She nodded slowly.

“Huh! Huh!” It was a derogatory sound. Then, looking at her from under his eyebrows,

he said,

“You’ve nearly left it too late. I could have put you in the family way years ago if that’s all you wanted. I

told you at the time.”

“I know you did, Mike, and ... and I wish now I’d taken you at your word. At least, no, that isn’t true;

what I mean to say is, I should have taken your offer at the time, then there would have been no need for

this to happen as it has. But now that it has, I’m glad. I’m more than glad. I’m

overwhelmed with the

happiness of it.”

“May I ask who it is?”

Her head was well down now. That was one thing she wouldn’t and couldn’t tell him:

after refusing him,

to have taken his son would be too great a blow to his ego; crippled as he was, Mike was still very much

a man inside.

The next moment she almost fell off the chair, so quickly did her head jerk up as he asked quietly,

“Would our Joe have anything to do with it?”

She stared at him silently, her body still now, except for her lips, which were trembling.

She watched

him pull himself to his feet and stand by the broad window-sill, and, leaning on it for support, he looked

down into the garden as he said, “It doesn’t surprise me, but. but it’s bloody hurtful, nevertheless. Still,

like father like son, I suppose ... What’s that? Who’s she at now?”

As he turned from the window Betty rose sharply to her feet and they both looked down towards the