Justice Is a Woman (18 page)

she saw that Duffy was asleep in the chair by the fire, and so she gently placed the tray on a side table

near the door; then, quietly leaving the room, she climbed the stairs and entered the nursery.

The child was fast asleep in his cot. He had kicked his bedclothes down and his plump legs lay on top

of them. One fist was doubled and pressed into his cheek. Bending over him she gently replaced the

bedclothes, then softly she put her lips to his brow which, as always when her flesh

touched his, stirred

the ache in her heart.

After making up the fire and replacing the guard she went to her own room. It was very comfortable,

with everything there she could wish for, and she had the desire now to sit quietly by the fire until she

heard the girls return, then go to bed. But there was Mike. He was up there alone and he would be

expecting her; it was Christmas Eve and no-one should be alone on Christmas Eve.

She drew a comb from the middle parting through each side of her hair.

She had always parted it in the middle, imagining it tended to lessen the length of her face. Then taking a

clean handkerchief from a drawer and sprinkling a few drops of perfume on it, she placed it up the cuff of

her dress, then went out and mounted the attic stairs ..

“I thought you were never coming.”

T had one or two things to see to. “

“But they’ve been gone this hour and a half.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” She raised her eyebrows and nodded at him.

“But I need to wash sometimes and to change and sit down and look at myself and think.”

He laughed gently now, saying, “Well, come and sit down here.” Then pulling himself

forward in his

chair, he pursed his lips, nodded his head slowly as he ran his eyes over her, then

commented, “I like

that, it suits you, shows off your figure. You’ve a good figure, you know.”

“So has a camel ... at least other camels think so.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” His laughter was high and loud.

“You do me good, you know that, Betty? You always do me good, ‘cos you’ve got the

gift of laughing

at yourself, and that’s a priceless asset.”

“Well, I always like to share a joke.”

“Aw, lass. Aw, lass. Come here. Look.” He pointed out through the uncurtained window.

“Look at that sky up there. See them stars? Isn’t that a sight? You know, at one time a sight like that

would have frightened me, but not any more, because I know that one day I’ll be

somewhere along that

lot.”

“Huh! I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

“Who’s talking about God? God’s got nowt to do with that.” He was stabbing his finger now towards

the window.

“Well, not the bloke that you and others think of as God.”

“How do you know whom I think of as God?”

“I don’t.” He nodded at her.

“But we’ll have to get on to that subject some time ... Why didn’t you go along with them the night?”

“Because I wasn’t invited.” She lowered her head down towards him now.

“Everybody’s invited to the Leveys. He’s a good fellow; they’re a nice family. You’ve met them.”

“Yes, yes, I know that, and they’ve told me to drop in any time, but ... but that’s a politeness, a sort of

...”

“Not this side of the country ‘tisn’t. If people say drop in, they mean drop in ... Are we going to have a

game?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

She brought a small table from the wall and placed it in front of him, then opened the envelope top and

from a drawer underneath took a pack of cards. This done, she sat down opposite him and as she

began to shuffle the cards she said, “Are you coming down tomorrow?”

“Aye, I suppose I’ll have to make it, Christmas dinner and all that. A lot of bloody

palaver; no meaning

left in it.”

“You should come down more often; you stay up here too much.”

“What is there to come down for? And what can I see from the drawing-room, or the

dining-room?

And if I was on the first floor the best view only takes in part of the garden and the drive.

No, this is my

abode from now till the end.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Who’s being silly? I’m not pitying me self don’t think that; this is a world of its own up here; I have two

workshops, a bathroom, a bedroom and this.” He waved his hand around the sitting-

room.

“Who would want for more?”

“You’re too much alone up here.” She had finished dealing the cards, and he picked his up and looked

at his hand before saying, “If you can’t stand your own company you’re hard put to stand i74

anybody else’s. “

“You’re cutting yourself off. How long is it since you went to the factory?”

He put his head back and thought.

“Two and a half, three years.”

“Aren’t you interested in it any more?”

“Yes and no.”

“What do your mean by that?”

“Well, speaking plain, I wanted to give Joe his head, see what he could do on his own; I didn’t want to

shackle him in any way. I wanted him to use his own ideas, and if I’d been on the spot I know I couldn’t

have helped but say. Well, it’s been done this way for years and that’s how it’s going to be done for

many more, or words to that effect. I would have had to show who was still the boss.

Well, when I’m

out of the way I don’t lose face when some of his ideas turn out better than mine.”

As they looked at each other and smiled she shook her head slowly and, using his tone of voice, she

said, “You’re a queer fella.”

“Aye, that’s been said afore, lass, I’m a queer fella. Look, before we start, bring over that tray.” He

pointed to the sideboard.

“It’s Christmas, so let’s start the way we mean to go on ...”

It was now half-past eleven and she had been downstairs three times during the past two hours or so,

twice to see to the child and the third time when she heard the girls returning. On this occasion she had

gone into the kitchen and, her mouth wide, her eyes bright, she had said, “Merry

Christmas,” and they

had all turned, the four of them, and looked towards her and chorused, “Oh, the same to you, a Merry

Christmas, miss.” Then they had all laughed together and she had left the kitchen feeling singularly happy.

Now she was sitting before the fire close to Mike’s chair, her slippered feet stretched out and her hands

cupping the back of her head. She gave a quiet laughing gurgle in her throat before

saying, “You know, I

feel a little drunk.”

“Well, keep at it, lass; we’ve got a long way to go yet, the bottles are still half full.” He pointed to the

table at his side on which stood three bottles, one of port, one of whisky, and one of gin.

“They say you should never mix your drinks but it’s a nice feeling to feel drunk. I’ve never felt like this

before, Mike. I could like everybody ... everybody.”

“I thought you always liked everybody, Betty.”

“Oh no, Mike.” She turned her head on her hands. Oh no. You said yourself I’m a

hypocrite, and I

am, I’m two-faced. “

“Not you, Betty; you’re the straightest piece of woman I’ve come across in me life.”

“Aw no, no, you’re wrong, Mike. I am, I really am, I’m two-faced, ‘cos sometimes I want to stand on

my hind legs and tell Elaine exactly what I think of her, but do I do it? No; I just say: Yes, Elaine;

and. No, Elaine; and, You’re right, Elaine. “

“That’s not being two-faced, lass, that’s diplomacy. That’s what you call diplomacy.”

“Yes, yes, I suppose you’re right.” She sighed and nodded at him.

“Yes, it’s diplomacy. That’s how I’ll

look at it in the future .. diplomacy. But I’m still two-faced. Oh yes, I’m still two-faced. “

She lowered

her hands from behind her head and joined them on her lap and, gazing at them, she went on, “ I’m

two-faced because I play at being good old Betty, and I’m not a bit like that inside. I envy Elaine. Do

you know that, Mike? I envy her because she’s got Joe .. and Martin .. and this grand house. She

always got everything she wanted, Elaine, and .. and I should be glad. I tell myself I should be glad, but

I’m not. I’m not, Mike. “

Mike now leaned forward and put his hand on her knee and he looked into her eyes as he said quietly,

“You’re lost, lass; you should be married.”

“Yes. Oh I know that. Oh I know that, Mike, but who’ll have me?” She gurgled again in her throat.

“Anybody who wasn’t a bloody fool, lass. You know something?” He squeezed her knee

now as hard

as his gnarled fingers would allow.

“If me body weren’t twisted an’ I was ten years younger I’d ask you me self

At this she let out a deep rollicking laugh; then leaning towards him, she said, “And you know what?

And you know what, Mike? If I were ten years older and had any sense left I’d take you up on that and

say, Thank you kindly, sir. And you know something else, Mike?” Her eyes were

twinkling and her lips

pressed tight for a moment and she hiccupped and gave a spluttering laugh before she

whispered, “I’m

going to tell you something. It’s funny, it really is; but you know what I’ve always

secretly wanted to

be? You’d never guess. You’d never guess in a thousand years ... Some man’s mistress!

Isn’t that

funny? I’ve never dreamed of getting married; no, oh no; just being some man’s mistress.

Now I ask you

if that isn’t the limit. I’ve pictured myself sailing round a magnificent bedroom, my own bedroom, mind;

everything had been bought for me, all expensive stuff ... no expense spared.” She

stopped now and

drooped her head towards her chest to check her rising laughter, then went on, “I’m

always dressed in a

flowing negligee, yards and yards of crepe-de-chi ne No, no! not crepe-de-chi ne wild silk, the most

expensive wild silk. And then he comes in, the hero, the fellow that’s paying for the lot.

And you know

something? Do you know something, Mike ? I have never been able to put a face to him, not once. I’ve

never been able to put a face to him, and perhaps I know the reason.”

She now straightened her back, her laughter sliding away, and picked up her half-empty glass of port

from the table and looked down into it before she added, “The farce always ends up by me looking in the

mirror and seeing myself as likely he would see me, and so it’s on those nights that I ask myself why.

And then I answer myself: “ Tisn’t fair,” I say, “ Tisn’t fair. “ And I get sorry for myself because, as I see

it, no matter what a woman looks like on the outside the mechanism underneath is the

same. Don’t you

think so, Mike? The same emotions boil behind the plain and the ugly as behind the

beautiful. Isn’t that

true? In fact I’ve come to the conclusion that the passions hidden behind the

plain fronts are the stronger, oh, by far the stronger. Years ago when I used to look at Elaine I used to

tell myself for my own comfort that God had worked it out evenly to His way of

thinking: To those with

beauty He gave no brains, and He compensated the plain ones with a lot of grey matter and personality.

But’ she smiled weakly now as she nodded at Mike “I used to think it was blooming

unfair of Him not to

let us have a choice, because I know what I would have plumped for .. “

“Betty.”

“Yes, Mike?”

“Now listen to me, Betty. Listen carefully.”

“Yes, Mike.”

“You listenin’?”

“Yes. Yes, Mike, yes, I’m listening.”

“I want you to marry me. Now, now, listen, I’m serious. I’m not old as age goes, I’m

fifty-two, and

I’m not all that useless as a man. You know what I mean. Marry me, Betty.”

“Oh... Oh, Mike.” She swallowed deeply, closed her eyes tight, lay back in the chair and remained

utterly silent; nor did she do anything to stop the tears raining down her cheeks. Not until she had gulped

deep in her throat did she speak, and then her voice was a mere whisper as she said,

“We’re both tight.

Don’t forget that, we’re both tight, Mike, but ... but nevertheless I thank you. I do, I do indeed, and

from the bottom of my heart, because it’s the first proposal I’ve had in my life. Men ...

men sort of like

me, I know, and women use me, but no-one has ever loved me. We are a type, women

like me, we are

a sort of worker bee to the queens of this world ... like Elaine, and to some men we ... we are pals, sort

of, and so I’ll never, never ...”

“Stop your nattering; I’m ... I’m not all that far gone, in fact I’m not far gone at all. I can hold me drink

an’ I’m sober enough at this minute to know what I’m after. I mean it. Will you marry me?”

She rose to her feet now and stood looking down at him as she wiped her tears from

around her chin,

and when she could speak she said softly, “Oh, Mike. Mike!”

“Will you?”

“Ask me again in the morning, Mike. Goodnight.”

“All right then. Good-night, lass; and never fear I’ll ask you again in the mornin’,

Christmas mornin’.”

She walked unsteadily towards the door and opened it quietly, then turned and said softly,

“It’s been the

best night of my life.” Then she went out and down the stairs and into her room. She

didn’t undress but

dropped slowly on to the bed and, burying her face in the pillow, she cried as she had never cried before

in her life.

“Happy Christmas, Elaine.”

“Oh. Happy Christmas ... Oh, my head! My head!” Elaine pulled herself up in bed, then said, “What

time is it?”