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Authors: Yelena Kopylova

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BOOK: THE CINDER PATH
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turned towards a chair and picked up his greatcoat;

then pulling his cap on he stood looking down on

her for a moment, saying, "I'll just have a look in on the fellows before I go,"

'allyes, all right."

'Good-bye, Betty." He bent down to kiss

her cheek, and when her arms came round his neck and

she kissed him on the mouth he held her tightly

to him for a moment, then turned from her and went

quickly out.

He was lucky and managed to get a ride on a

farm cart, which at least kept him off his feet for about two miles but took longer to cover the journey

to Knowesgate than if he had walked.

He was nearing the station when he saw a car emerging

from the quarry road. When he noticed the direction

it was to take he sprinted forward and flagged down the driver and when the car stopped he bent his length

down and said, "Pardon me, but may I ask where

you're bound for?"

"Aye, you may. Newcastle, if it's anything

to you. Want a lift?"

"That's about it."

"Well, what are you waitin" for?"

It seemed too good to be true.

Sitting beside the driver he expressed his

admiration of the car which was a Daimler, and the driver agreed with him. "Aye," he said; "it's a nice piece of work."

Listening to the rough Northern twang and having

taken in the equally rough appearance of the man,

Charlie couldn't be blamed for probing by asking, "Are you in a firm?"

"Aye, you could say I'm in a firm,

lad."

"Chauffeur?"

The head was turned sharply to him. "Chauffeur!

Do I look like a bloody chauffeur? Not in

uniform, am I?"

"I'm sorry, I just thought."

"Aye, I know what you thought, lad, you thought a

fellow like me shouldn't have a car like this. That's what you thought, isn't it? Like all the rest of the ignorant

buggers you'll say I got it through profiteering. But

let me tell you, son, this here was got through damned

hard work. I was a taggerine man for

years, scrap merchants they call us now and I'm

one of the fellows that's supplying the wherewithal to see that blokes like you don't get your bloody heads

knocked off, afore your number's called that is."

"Yes, yes, I see."

"You don't see."

"I'm sorry if I've offended you."

"Everybody offends me, but what do I care! You

can stand being offended when your belly's full and your arse is sitting soft. What are you, anyway?"

"I'm a private in the ..."

"I can see that, I'm not blind, lad. What were you afore you were a private?"

"A farmer."

"A farmhand?"

"No, not a farmhand, I have my own farm."

"Begod! I thought farmers like pitmen were

exempt."

"I didn't want to be exempt."

"You must be bloody well barmy!"

"Yes, I think I am."

The man now turned his head and gave a faint

grin. "Well, it's something when we know what we

are, I'll give you that. I'm a successful man

an' I mean to go on bein'

successful; I can swim through the sneers. It's

funny you know"-he cast his glance in Charlie's

direction again-"it's funny you know, you were no

exception back there, "cos everybody takes me

for a numskull, for somebody's bloody chauffeur

without the uniform. When I open me mouth I can hear

them thinkin", Dear, dear! What have we come to,

chauffeur talkin' like that! And I can tell you, lad

I mean to go on talkin' like this. I've changed me

hoose but I'm not changin' me tongue for the simple

reason I couldn't if I tried." He let out a

bellow of a laugh now, and Charlie laughed with him.

He was a character and a likeable one at that.

"I was born into a taggerine family and I'll

die in the taggerine family, even if they've given

us the title of scrap merchants. But I'll tell

you something, lad"-he leant sidewards towards

Charlie while keeping his eyes to the front-"it's a comfortin' feelin' to know you're goin' to die in the lap of luxury, and not with your da's working coat over your feet on the bed."

Again they were laughing.

As they entered Newcastle the man asked, "Where

you billeted, son?"

"Oh, down the river, Shields way, but . . .

but I've got some business to do in the city and in

Gateshead first."

"Oh aye, well you wouldn't like to give it a

miss an' come along for a bite to our place would

you?"

"Thank you very much indeed. And I mean that."

Charlie nodded at the man. "I would like nothing

better, but my father-inlaw is seriously ill and one

of the things I have to do before I go back to camp is

to let my wife know."

"Your wife? Isn't she back on your farm?"

"No, no; she lives in Newcastle." "Oh

well, some other time then, Look, here's

me card." He took a hand off the wheel and pushed

it into an inner pocket, and when he handed the card

to Charlie he said, "Gosforth. See that, Gosforth.

That's where I live. John Cramp's the name.

You're welcome any time. Lots of the lads pop

in, they're always sure of a bite and a drop of the

hard, two or three if they want it, I'm never

short. See to number one and let two, three, and

four look after themselves. That's the only way you'll

get on in this world, lad, and I'm tellin' you from one who knowsea'3

When he stopped the car he turned fully round

to Charlie now and said, "It's a pity

you can't come along, I've got a fancy I'd like

havin' a natter with you, not that you've said anything edifyin' like up till now, it's just that I've got a

fancy."

Charlie was laughing again.

"Well, don't look surprised if I take

you at your word and drop in on you some night."

"My pleasure." The man held out his hand, and Charlie took it and said, "And thanks for the ride; I don't know when I've enjoyed one more, and I

hope it's a long, long time before you find yourself dying in comfort."

The man seemed reluctant to let go of his hand and

what he said now was something that Charlie was to remember later on. "If I'd had a son like you I would've

seen he didn't spend his time in the bloody

ranks. I've got all the money in the world, lad,

but I've neither chick nor child, it's only the

missis an' me an' about three thousand bloody

inlaws and relations, all waitin' for me poppin'

off."

They parted on laughter, through which on both sides was streaked a thread of sadness, and while Charlie

waited for the bus to take him to the house his thoughts were still with the man. Poor devil; he was rotten with

money, the making of which was apparently his only

happiness. Life was strange and there were so many

unhappy people in it, unhappy people who could still laugh.

He got off the bus and walked up the dark

avenue towards the house, thinking as he did so that he would ring. He still had his key but it wasn't his intention to surprise her. He didn't dissect the reasoning

for his consideration but he told himself that if she wasn't at home he would use the key and leave her a

note. In fact, he hoped she wasn't in for he

had no desire to confront her; all their meetings

seemed to end in anger.

The house appeared to be in darkness, yet it

wasn't completely for there was a slight glow coming through the curtains of the sitting-room. He approached the

window and through a small chink in the end curtain he

could see the glow was from the fire, and it was a fresh glow implying that she hadn't been long gone from the

room.

Perhaps she was in the kitchen. No, she liked

plenty of light, she always left lights blazing

all over the house.

He inserted his key in the lock and when the door was

opened he switched on the hall light, turned down

the collar of Ms coat,

looked about him for a moment, then opened the door of the sitting-room and switched on the light there.

As he stared towards the fireplace he imagined

that his whole frame was swelling, the long intake of

breath was wafting into every part of his body, down to his feet, into his finger ends, and up to the strands of his hair.

Before him, standing behind the couch that bordered a long sheepskin rug which lay before the fire stood his wife

and a man. They stood at each side of the

fireplace and the flickering rosy light from the glowing fire illuminated them as would flashes of

sheet lightning. His wife's nakedness was partly

covered by the crumpled dress she was holding to her

chest and her hair that was hanging loose about her. She hadn't been as quick as her companion to dress for he

had managed to get into his breeches, apparently

between the time he had heard the key in the front door and the light of the sitting-room being switched on.

Having fastened the top button the man now stood

still. They all stood still, their eyes in a triangle

of amazement, anger and embarrassment. It was

Charlie who was amazed,

and yet at the same time he was asking himself why should he be. It was the man who was showing embarrassment; but Victoria, as usual, was expressing her feelings

through anger.

Yet did he detect a trace of fear in his

wife's emotion? He watched her drop down behind the

couch, then emerge again pulling the dress over her

head. The man, his head bowed now, reached to the corner of the couch for his shirt and coat. In silence Charlie watched him. There was something familiar about the man's face; they had met somewhere, but where? As the man

pulled on his uniform coat and Charlie recognized

the insignia, an exclamation of "Good God!" almost escaped Charlie's lips. Major . .

. Major Smith!

His body was being deflated now, the air was rushing

from it and taking its place was heat made up of

embarrassment, shame and i anger, a fierce anger

that was urging him to

1 take a run at this man who had been

cohabiting with his wife, to leave the imprint of his

fist right between his eyes. No one would blame him,

even a court martial would surely find extenuating

circumstances in the situation;

in any case it would be the end of Major

Smith's career.

Victoria was standing in front of him now, hissing

through her clenched teeth, "What do you want?"

He saw her through a red mist. She looked very like

a witch, her black hair, her blazing eyes.

"Just a word with my wife," he said.

It sounded silly, theatrical, like lines

delivered by a ham actor.

"You've no right here!" Her hair danced as she tossed her head. He could imagine the hair to be

snakes and she Medusa, but her look could not turn

him to stone, and he proved this for now his voice carried no trace either of the ham actor or of any actor

at all, but that of an angry man, for it was

so surprisingly near a roar that it startled her, and

she stepped back from him as he cried, "I have every right here! Until I divorce you I have every right here!"

For the first time in their acquaintance he saw that he had frightened her. He saw her glance towards the man

who was sitting now, putting on a pair of shining

leggings, and he, too, looked towards him as he

ended on a yell, "And divorce it will be!" Then turning to her again, he finished, "And that's without any stipulations from you. Now I'll tell you why I

came here tonight. Your father happens to be dying and would like to see you . . . if you can spare the time." He

watched her open her mouth, then put her fingers across her lips before going towards the door. But there she

turned and said, "I've got to talk to you. Wait,

don't go. I'll. . . I'll be down in a

minute." There was almost a plea in her voice.

The man and he were alone now; the man was on his

feet straightening his tunic, putting his belt

to rights, pulling at the large flap pockets of his

tunic, smoothing his hair back, adjusting his tie,

anything apparently to keep his hands busy.

Charlie walked up the room until he reached the

back of the couch, and now the man's hands became still, hanging stiffly by his sides while they

stared at each other.

"I... I suppose I should know you, shouldn't

I?" The voice was cultured yet had the suggestion

of the Northumberland burr in it.

"You happen to be the officer commanding my company."

There was no addition of sir to the statement.

"Oh my God!" The man now turned his head

to the side, dragged his lower lip in

between his teeth, then said, "I... I fear I owe you an apology."

"Huh!"

The head was snapped to the front again and for a moment it was the senior officer viewing a private who had

dared to speak in his presence without first having been given permission. Then after a tense moment during which their gazes were locked, the slightly greying head was

turned to the side again, and now the words coming tight from between his lips, the major said, "I... I understood you were separated, officially."

"You understood wrong then."

The major again drew on his lip, so tightly now

that the skin of his chin was drained of blood; then once more he was facing Charlie. "I... I understand that she can get a divorce, there are certain circumstances

BOOK: THE CINDER PATH
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