A man who cried (34 page)

another murder done. You left me to escape the consequences of your wrhorin’.”

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”Get out! Do you hear me ? Get out! because I haven’t changed much in twelve years and what I

threatened to do that day I might just do now.”

When he took another step towards her she backed from him and towards the door and as she did

so she cried, ”Oh, don’t think you’re going to get off as easy as that, Mr Abel Mason or Gray,

you’re going to do a stretch, an’ I’m going to do a jig the day they send you down. I’m goin’ to

stand up in court and tell them all that I’ve suffered through your neglect and for deprivin’ me of

my bairn all these years. I’m going straight from this very room to the polis station, so look out

and don’t try to run away again.”

”Get!” - his arm was stretched out, his finger pointing - ”and go to the polis ; I’ll be quite willing to do a long, long stretch not to set eyes on you again. Now go !” He reached beyond her and

pulled open the door, and she stumbled backwards into the yard yelling, ”I’ll see you get your

deserts, by God! I will. I’ll show you up from one end of the country to the other; I’ll put you in

all the papers.”

He banged the door on her voice, then stood with his back to it looking towards where Hilda still

sat like an effigy incapable of either movement or speech.

Minutes passed before he walked slowly towards her; then dropping on his hunkers he reached

out to take her hands, but when his fingers touched hers she drew them back as if she had

received an electric shock. But still she didn’t speak, only continued to stare at him as he began

to talk to her softly, soothingly. ”Hilda. Hilda, listen to me. I know I’ve done wrong. It’s been on my mind all these years ; I’ve never really known a minute’s peace. And believe me, I wouldn’t

have had this happen to you for all the world, I wouldn’t. No matter how I’ve acted towards you I

wouldn’t have hurt you like this. I could have walked out any time over the years but I knew you

didn’t want me to, so I stayed on. Yet in my heart I knew it would come out some day. But . . .

but not like this. I should have told you. Somehow though I felt it would be depriving you of

something, a family, and you needed a family. . . . Say something, Hilda, please. Please say

something.”

She didn’t say anything, but with a jerk of her body she moved the wooden chair back from him;

then rising slowly but keeping her eyes on him, she walked round him, then backed towards the

door and out of the room. When he heard her going upstairs she

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was still walking slowly, it was as if she were pausing
oft each
step.

As he dropped into a chair by the kitchen table he realized he still had his coat and hat on, but he made no effort to take them off. What was he to do ? Almost immediately it seemed, he was

given the answer.

When he heard the thud he rushed into the hall to see a suitcase lying at the bottom of the stairs,

then another one came tumbling down to join it. He stood staring at them for a moment; then as

he went to pick them up there followed a spate of clothes, suits, shoes, shirts, ties, underwear, all tumbling down the stairs, some not reaching the bottom but getting caught up in the banisters

until the whole staircase was littered with his clothes.

The scurry and flurry following so quickly on her numbness was startling, but he could make no

protest, all he could do was to gather up the articles and press them into the cases. But when

these were both full there was still enough to fill another two or more.

It was as he brought the last of his clothing from the stairs and added them in a heap on the

kitchen table that Dick came in the back door. He had just come off his shift and was still in his

overalls, his hands and face streaked with engine grease.

Before closing the door he stopped and stared at his father, but Abel merely glanced at him

before going back into the hall and picking up the two suitcases.

”What’s . . . what’s happened?”

”Does it need any explanation?”

”But -” Dick looked in perplexity at the jumble of clothing on the table. ,.
.••-.•••.

”Your mother’s been.” ,

”No! Oh! Oh God!”

”Yes, oh God!”

Abel stopped stuffing the underwear into a shirt which he was using as a bag and said slowly, ”In

one way I would say I was glad if it wasn’t for the effect it’s had on her.” He jerked his head

towards the ceiling. ”Stay here with her and see to her, will you?”

Dick stared at him, making no response for a moment ; then he said, ”Me mam ?” The word

sounded strange to his ears. ”What . . . what is she like?” ,,;

”Can you remember the day we left?” , , - :

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”Yes. Yes, sort of, vaguely.” >,-C

”Well all I can say is she hasn’t improved, she’s a vixen.”- ”What is she going to do about it?”

”Oh, see me along the line for a long stretch. She’s promised’me

that.”’
ll’

”Oh, dear God!”

Abel now put out his hand and gripped Dick’s shoulder and, looking at him steadily, said, ”Don’t

worry. I knew I had it coming some time, and strangely, in a way it’s a relief. I’ll pay whatever

price they decide. I’ll have to, I’ll have no other choice. Then I ... I can be with Florrie.”

”What about. . . what about her?” It was Dick who now jerked his head towards the ceiling, and

for answer Abel simply turned and pointed to the table, then to the suitcases standing on the

floor. ”She wouldn’t even listen,” he said; ”she wouldn’t even speak. If she had gone for me I’d

have felt better about it. I’m . . . I’m a bit worried about her so don’t leave her, will you ?”

”You going to Florrie’s now ?”

”Yes; where else?” • -”<”

”What if me mam comes back ?”

”I don’t think you need to worry about that, although she might want to see you. She talked about

you as her child. Anyway, when you see her and hear her I think you’ll understand more fully

why I walked out.”

”I do understand, I did then, but what I’ve never been able to understand is ... well, your

deceiving Aunt Hilda.”

Abel now bent forward towards Dick as he said, ”Your Aunt Hilda wanted to be deceived; I

didn’t ask her to marry me, she did the asking. I’ll tell you now, I even offered to live with her. I would have preferred that. Oh yes, I would have preferred it that way, but with her religious

outlook she would have none of it. I had to put up a fight not to be married in the church, it didn’t seem so bad in a registry office.”

”I’m sorry, Dad.”

”I know you are, lad; but as long as it’s all right between you and me things aren’t too black. I

may as well tell you, I’ve been upset lately the way things have gone.”

”Me too.”

Look, I’ll stack these things in the garage. I’ll have to make a couple of journeys, but once I’m

clear I think you’d better ring for

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:’lpn tmh

Doctor Cole. You can tell him what’s happened, he’lURnow how to treat her then.” I

”All right. . . Dad.” 1 •

As Abel turned from the table, the bulging shirt m his arms, Dick, his stammer evident again,

said, ”Wi. . . will. . . will they c . . . come and take you, I m ... mean what happens in a case like this?”

”I don’t know. I know as much about this end of the business as you do, but I’ll soon find out,

won’t I ?” He smiled wryly; then holding the bundle to one side, he put his free arm out and now

pulled Dick towards him and pressed him tightly as he said, ”Don’t worry about me, just stay

here and see to things . . . and her.”

’* ’*•* j-S*!**11
•

*fc

«DK>

The detective inspector knocked on the door of the garden flat and Abel opened it to him. ,=? , :r;

?

”I am enquiring for a Mr Mason.”

”I’m he.” i

”Oh. I’m Detective Inspector Davidson. Your son told me where I might find you.”

”Come in.”

The inspector came in and stood aside while Abel closed the door. He did it slowly, and as

slowly he walked past the man and into the sitting-room, and there he motioned with his hand

towards the couch where Florrie was sitting nursing the child, and he said, ”This is Mrs Ford.”

The inspector inclined his head forward and Florrie, now getting to her feet and laying the child

in the corner of the couch, said in a low voice, ”Won’t you sit down?”

”If you don’t mind, I’d rather stand; this won’t take long.” He now turned to Abel and said, ”You

know why I’ve come?”

”Oh yes, I know why you’ve come.”

”A Mrs Mason has laid claim by showing as proof her marriage certificate that she is your wife,

and also” - the inspector now cast his glance to the side before raising his eyes again and looking

straight at Abel - ”we have confirmed with Somerset House that the certificate which she

produced agrees with their records. These records also show that a man using the name of Abel

Gray, by which I understand you are now known, did subsequently go through a form of

marriage with a person of the name of Hilda Maxwell.”

The formal words and tone were in keeping with the inspector’s appearance and after Abel had

acknowledged his statement by one single movement of his head the man now said, ”I must

caution

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you that from now on you need not say anything, but anything you do say will be taken down and

may be used in evidence at your trial.”

When Abel sighed the inspector said, ”I’d be obliged if you’d come to the station with me, sir,

for questioning.”

Abel turned and looked at Florrie. Her face remained straight, only her eyes told him what she

was feeling.

A few minutes later he was dressed for outside and he had opened the door leading into the hall;

then pausing, he said, ”Just a minute, I forgot something,” and hurrying back into the

sittingroom, quickly closing the door behind him, he went to Florrie and took her in his arms, and

after kissing her hard and quickly on the lips he whispered, ”Don’t worry. What’s to be will be.

Just remember, nothing can separate us in the long run.”

She made no answer, only gulped in her throat, then pressed his face tightly between her

hands. . . .

On the journey to the station the inspector surprisingly dropped his official manner and, almost

like a friend, said, ”Have you a solicitor ?”

”No.” •”-- - < - -,.-

”Well, the quicker you get one the better.” -’•• - ::> -

”Thanks, I’ll do that.” :
*-
• i /;•;- •..-.;

”Do you know anything about the proceedings you’re going into?” =:

”No, not a thing.” /

”Well then, if you had a solicitor with you he’d likely tell you to plead not guilty.”

Abel turned his head swiftly to him. ”But I am,” he said, ”I’ve committed bigamy. I’m guilty all

right.”

”That’s as may be, but if you plead guilty they can keep you inside tonight and then when you

come up before the magistrates in the morning and you still hold your plea as guilty you can be

kept in jail until your trial.”

”I won’t be able to get bail?”

”Not if you plead guilty.”

”Huh!” Abel shook his head, then, on a wry smile, said, ”I’ll get out until the trial if I say I’m not guilty ?”

”That’s the way it goes.”

. . . And that’s the way it went. In the police station he went through much the same procedure as

he had done in Florrie’s

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sitting-room, only here the atmosphere was different, and it ended with him being bailed to

appear before the magistrates the following morning.

He was visibly shaken when he walked down the steps and into the street from the police station,

and he stood for a moment thinking about a solicitor and where he would find one. He had never

had need of a solicitor. Hilda had one, but he couldn’t go to hers. Florrie had said there was a tall building off Cuthbert Street that housed solicitors and accountants. She, too, had no need of a

solicitor in Fellburn, the business of her shop had been settled in Newcastle.

When a few minutes later he looked at the well-polished brass plate, he saw the name Thomas

Gay and Co., Solicitors, Commissioners for Oaths, and underneath a list of four names headed by

a John E. Roscommon. He looked at the other names. Well, it didn’t matter which one, did it,

they’d all likely know what to do.

He went into the building and up the stairs and through a glass door marked ”Thomas Gay &

Co.” and to a glass-partitioned desk where a prim young woman looked at him and said, ”Well . .

. yes ?”

”I’d ... I’d like to see Mr Roscommon please.” |s

”Have you an appointment ?”

”No.”

”Well, let me see” - she turned to a book - ”how about Wednesday at three ?”

He stared at her for a moment before saying slowly, ”I want to see him today.”

She stared back at him, her eyes widening. ”I’m afraid that’s impossible. Mr Roscommon is fully

engaged.”

”One of the others?”

”They’re all engaged.” She moved her head slowly, then she bent forward as if speaking to a

child and, peering up at him from under the partition, she said, ”You’ve got to make an

appointment to see a solicitor.”

”Miss Wilton!”

The young woman turned to look at the old man who was addressing her. He beckoned her to one

side and although Abel couldn’t hear what he was saying he distinctly heard what she was

saying. ”It isn’t done,” she said; ”Mr Blackett would go on.”

Now Abel heard the old man say, and quite distinctly and