Justice Is a Woman (17 page)

She had just reached the landing when she saw Elaine and Joe descending the main

staircase. They

were walking close together: he was looking down at her and she up at him. As Mike had said, it would

be a slow awakening .. Perhaps he would never awake.

Well, she hoped she was big enough to wish that he might sleep for ever, but human

nature being what it

was that might be difficult too.

All life was difficult, and it wasn’t today or yesterday she had discovered that.

It was Christmas Eve, 1928. The house was ablaze with lights. There was a roaring fire in every room

and to keep these supplied young Pat Collins, David’s helper in the garden, had been hard at it all day,

carrying wood and coal from the ground—floor rooms to those in the attic.

The hall was hung with holly and mistletoe and in between the two long windows of the drawing—room

stood a seven-foot Christmas tree decorated with candles and glass baubles, and around the tub in which

it stood was an array of gaily wrapped parcels. There was an air of excitement running through the

whole house, and Ella, hurrying into the kitchen, said to Mary, “You know something?

The feelin’s more

like New Year’s Eve than Christmas.” Mary was putting the finishing touches with an

icing tube to a

number of small cakes, and she said offhandedly, “I’ve told you, like last year, haven’t I, because she’s

from the south: they don’t pay very much attention to New Year; it’s Christmas with

them, whereas we

only think Christmas is for the hairns, and New Year’s the time for jollification.”

“It’s a pity he’s not really old enough to appreciate the tree. By!

she’s done it bonny. I’ll say that for her. And it looks as if we’re in for some good presents an’ all. “

“I’ve told you not to be nosy, Ella, haven’t I? I told you to keep away from that tree, didn’t I?”

Ella turned to where Duffy was sitting in a straight-backed wooden chair to the side of the fire, his feet

on the fender, a pipe in his mouth, and she laughed at him as she nicked her hand in his direction, saying,

“Aw! Uncle Jimmy, what do you think I’ve got eyes for? And speaking of eyes—’ She

lowered her

voice and moved to the table and, leaning across it towards her aunt, she exclaimed in a loud whisper, “

There’ll be some eyes on her bust the night. “

“Bust?”

Mary stopped squeezing the icing tube and said, “Bust? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, what am I talking about? It’s a pity you can’t see it; she’ll have a cloak on when she comes

downstairs. Eeh!” She put her hand over her mouth now as she straightened up and,

looking to the side,

nodded at her uncle as she finished, “You’d fall flat on your face if you saw her. Uncle Jimmy.”

Duffy had taken the pipe from his mouth and slowly he brought one foot after the other off the fender

before he asked, “What do you mean, fall flat on me face?”

“Her chest, her bust’ Ella now pointed with a stiff finger to each of her breasts ‘they’re practically

hanging out.”

“Ella! Mind your tongue.”

“It’s a fact. Aunty Mary: she’s got her frock on and there’s hardly any top to it at all; it’s a square neck

and there they are like plum duffs sticking out. I ... I stared at them through the mirror and she said, “ Is

there anything wrong, Jane ? “ she mimicked the question ‘an’ I said, “ No, ma’am. No, ma’am. “ And

when I left the room I heard Mr. Joe come out of the dressing-room and she said

something to him, but

I couldn’t catch it, and then she laughed ... She’s mucky.”

“I’ve told you to watch your tongue. You’ll come out with something one of these days an’ she’ll

overhear you.”

“Let her ... Eeh!” She reached out, picked up a small broken cake from the table and after biting into it

she shook her head slowly and looked to the far end of the kitchen as she said, “I don’t know what Mr.

Joe’s thinking about to let her go out like that where other men will see her.”

Mary now lifted the tray of small cakes and, turning about, walked towards the sideboard with them,

and as she passed her husband they exchanged glances that said a great deal.

Ella was about to speak again when the kitchen door opened and Nellie Mclntyre entered, and she,

coming straight to Ella’s side, asked in a shocked tone, “Did you see her?”

“Aye, I did. What do you think of her?”

“What do I think?” Nellie shook her head until her white starched cap slipped to the side; then looking

from one to the other, she brought out, “I’ll tell you what I think, an’ I’m not going to apologise to you,

Mr. Duffy, for saying it. I think that if she had shown her hairn her breasts like she’s showing them off

the night, it wouldn’t have cried so much.”

There was a moment’s silence before Ella, slapping Nellie on the shoulder, burst out

laughing and said,

“Eeh! you! But you’re right, you’re right. She is. Aunty Mary, she is, she’s right.” Mary brought her

plump body up straight, placed her folded hands at the line where her waist should be, then said,

“There’s nobody arguing with either of you, but it would be advisable to keep your

opinions to

yourselves and remember that you’re in a good job and also that her word goes.”

The two girls looked at each other, sighed, and together they left the kitchen, but in the hall Nellie took

hold of Ella’s arm and pulled her along the corridor and into the morning-room. There, closing the door

behind her, she whispered, “I heard Miss Betty on at her.”

“About her breasts?”

“Aye. Well, I think it was, ‘cos she said, “ It’s only a small dinner party, Elaine, and the Leveys are very

conservative,” and then the missis said, “ It’s about time they were livened up then, isn’t it? “

Then Miss Betty said, “This isn’t London, Elaine,” and the missis answered, “No, you’re right; they’re

so ... provincial, they make me sick. If you don’t make your own life here you’ll die.”

Then Miss Betty

said, “Has Joe seen it?” and the missis answered, “Of course he has.” Then Miss Betty said, “But not

on you. Don’t aggravate him, Elaine.” And then the missis laughed and said, “My breasts aggravate

him! Oh, what do you know, Betty?” Then I had to scoot across the landing because Miss Betty came

out of the room in a hurry. “

“They’re not taking Miss Betty with them then?”

“No. No, well, she never goes out with them, does she?”

“No, she doesn’t. But this being Christmas Eve and a party ...”

“She’s got a new frock on.”

“Huh! Miss Betty?”

“Aye, it’s woollen, it’s a soft pink colour. She looks nice in it... well, as nice as she’ll ever look. You

can’t believe they’re sisters, can you?”

“No, one looking like a doll an’ tother like a horse. But I know which I’d rather have if I had to have

me pick.” The too. Oh aye, me too. “

They nodded at each other, then like two conspirators, they crept from the room.

It was nine o’clock. The house was quiet. They had been gone for over an hour now,

having left amidst

laughter and Joe saying, “I wish you were coming with us.”

She hadn’t believed him; nor had she reminded him that she hadn’t been asked, but she’d thought it was

kind of him to say that. He was kind, was Joe. Behind his explosive and somewhat

irrational behaviour

there was a deep thoughtfulness. It was this very thoughtfulness that seemed to make him irrational.

Mary, Jane and Nellie had gone to the village to visit their people. It would have been quite some walk,

but David had come back from Egan’s 169 she’s showing them off the night, it wouldn’t have cried so

much. “

There was a moment’s silence before Ella, slapping Nellie on the shoulder, burst out

laughing and said,

“Eeh! you! But you’re right, you’re right. She is. Aunty Mary, she is, she’s right.”

Mary brought her plump body up straight, placed her folded hands at the line where her waist should be,

then said, “There’s nobody arguing with either of you, but it would be advisable to keep your opinions to

yourselves and remember that you’re in a good job and also that her word goes.”

The two girls looked at each other, sighed, and together they left the kitchen, but in the hall Nellie took

hold of Ella’s arm and pulled her along the corridor and into the morning-room. There, closing the door

behind her, she whispered, “I heard Miss Betty on at her.”

“About her breasts?”

“Aye. Well, I think it was, ‘cos she said, “ It’s only a small dinner party, Elaine, and the Leveys are very

conservative,” and then the missis said, “ It’s about time they were livened up then, isn’t it ? “

Then Miss Betty said, “This isn’t London, Elaine,” and the missis answered, “No, you’re right; they’re

so ... provincial, they make me sick. If you don’t make your own life here you’ll die.”

Then Miss Betty

said, “Has Joe seen it?” and the missis answered, “Of course he has.” Then Miss Betty said, “But not

on you. Don’t aggravate him, Elaine.” And then the missis laughed and said, “My breasts aggravate

him! Oh, what do you know, Betty?” Then I had

to scoot across the landing because Miss Betty came out of the room in a hurry. “

“They’re not taking Miss Betty with them then?”

“No. No, well, she never goes out with them, does she?”

“No, she doesn’t. But this being Christmas Eve and a party ...”

“She’s got a new frock on.”

“Huh! Miss Betty?”

“Aye, it’s woollen, it’s a soft pink colour. She looks nice in it ... well, as nice as she’ll ever look. You

can’t believe they’re sisters, can you?”

“No, one looking like a doll an’ tother like a horse. But I know which I’d rather have if I had to have

me pick.”

The too. Oh aye, me too. “

They nodded at each other, then like two conspirators, they crept from the room.

It was nine o’clock. The house was quiet. They had been gone for over an hour now,

having left amidst

laughter and Joe saying, “I wish you were coming with us.”

She hadn’t believed him; nor had she reminded him that she hadn’t been asked, but she’d thought it was

kind of him to say that. He was kind, was Joe. Behind his explosive and somewhat

irrational behaviour

there was a deep thoughtfulness. It was this very thoughtfulness that seemed to make him irrational.

Mary, Jane and Nellie had gone to the village to visit their people. It would have been quite some walk,

but David had come back from Egan’s house, where he had left Hazel, to take them in, so there was only

Duffy, Mike, the baby and herself left in the house, and it felt strangely empty.

She had brought her own supper from the kitchen, but instead of eating it in the diningroom she had

taken it into the drawing-room and eaten it as she sat to the side of the blazing fire, while all the time her

eyes were held by the Christmas tree.

Next year, Martin would be running round the tree; he’d be playing on the floor with

trains and motor

cars and building brick houses; in her mind’s eye she could see him quite plainly. She loved the child;

even feeling at times he was more hers than Elaine’s. If caring and attention could be taken to imply

parenthood, then the child was hers.

And yet she had no doubt that Elaine loved him, at least when he was happy and smiling.

After finishing her supper she lay back in the chair and gazed about her. How many

Christmases had

she spent alone? How many Christmases had she spent in other people’s homes? Through

how many

Christmases had she experienced the intensified feeling of aloneness? A while back Mike had said that

we couldn’t all be Christs and love everybody. He was so right, you could really love only one person.

There were different kinds of love, but the love that she wanted, and the love that she needed, could be

supplied by only one person.

She recalled the Christmas Eve before last very clearly. She had been in her cousin

Kathryn’s cottage

and had experienced a deep longing to meet someone who really needed her. She hadn’t

thought: I wish I could fall in love, because that would have been disastrous. But here was another

Christmas Eve and her situation was disastrous.

She pulled herself to her feet and, walking slowly to the side of the fireplace, she looked at her re flection

in the circular gold-framed mirror hanging there. Her hair looked nice: it was a dark tawny—brown

colour, coarse, and like all coarse hair had a natural wave in it. Her eyes were brown and round, but

they weren’t large; her nose was straight, but it was large; her mouth was her best feature, it was big too

but the lips were full and shaped quite nicely. But these large features needed a large frame and her face

looked too big; yet it wasn’t too big for her body, because that was big too. It was bad enough being

five feet nine tall, but to have breadth with it, and that breadth covered with flesh, was too much. Yet she

wasn’t fat. No;

that was one thing she determined she wouldn’t be, fat; she was careful what she ate and she very rarely

drank anything alcoholic.

And then there was her name, Beatrice. It sounded big; it seemed to fit her frame; but it had been

reduced to Betty, and Betty sounded girlish, and she had never been girlish.

She closed her eyes for a moment before swinging round from the mirror and picking up the tray and

hurrying from the room. When she pushed the green-baized door of the kitchen open with her but tocks