Read Justice Is a Woman Online
Authors: Yelena Kopylova
that she could not bear to be left alone for any length of time during the day, but rejected firmly even up
to the present time his presence in the bed puzzled him somewhat and irritated him more than he cared to
admit.
Only last night he had played it gently with her.
“Let me lie with you,” he had said. Then the look on her face had made him reassure her immediately
and he added, “Nothing will happen, I promise you; I just want to lie near you and hold you like this,”
and he had demonstrated by putting his arms around her where she lay deep among pink
frilled pillows,
which were her latest fad, for the bed linen now all had to be coloured. But his pleading had been in
vain. Moreover, it had tended to upset her, so again he had retired to the dressing-room and lay, as he
often did, with his hands behind his head, staring into the pale blur of light that came from the shaded
lamp in the bedroom.
However, in this sleepless state he was finding it more and more difficult to quell his irritation by coating
it with the sympathy and compassion
he still doled out to her as the remedial medicine. He had been patient. God knew he had been patient,
but he had needs. How long was it since they had been together, really been together; two years? He
couldn’t go on like this much longer, but of course he mustn’t upset her. He must have release of some
sort, though. Well, he could go into town; not Fellburn, though; that was too near.
Newcastle,
perhaps? Oh God Almighty! he didn’t want to start that game. What if he picked up
something? Look
at Harry Codshaw. But there were other types of women.
They said Alee Benbow had one in Gateshead; her husband went to sea.
But Alee Benbow was a swine, because he had a decent wife and four children.
No; it would have to be Newcastle and a whore. But he still couldn’t see himself going there; and yet to
start the other line of business you had to know someone who would be compatible and, of course,
available, and all the women he knew were married, and apparently happily so. The only unmarried
woman he came in contact with was Betty.
Betty! Betty!
For the next few minutes his thoughts raced through untrodden channels of his mind,
leaping back into
scenes that had held no significance at the time, but which now brought a warmth into his being that
turned into a heat that intensified until, as if they had suddenly been doused by a wave of ice-cold water,
he sat bolt upright in the bed and gripped his head with his hands.
My God! What next ? After all she had done for
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them, wearing herself out looking after the little girl. Not only had she nursed Elaine for months now, but
had silently put up with abuse from her in the early days of her illness; and now he would repay her by
saying, “How about you and me getting together, Betty?”
He rose from the bed and put on his dressing—gown, and now went quietly out through
the
dressing-room door on to the landing, down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he
brewed himself
some coffee. By the time he returned upstairs he had come to a decision; he would go
into Newcastle at
the first opportunity.
It was just on three o’clock when Miss May Pringle, who acted as Joe’s secretary and
who had been
with the business since his grandfather had started the venture in Fellburn, came into his office with the
afternoon cup of tea, and after placing the tray to his hand and saying in a no-nonsense manner, “Drink it
up before it turns to dishwater,” she paused, looked down at his bent head and said,
“Have you heard
the latest?”
“What’s that?” It was a second before he lifted his eyes towards her.
“Everything I hear is the latest.”
“Yes, it’s funny that, isn’t it, but I can understand your not having any knowledge of this first-hand, ‘cos
I only heard Big Wolsey and Cunningham yapping away behind a partition in the store
not a minute ago.
It appears there’s a new firm starting up.”
“New firm? What kind of a new firm?”
“Same line as this.”
“Same line as this? Nonsense!”
“All right, it’s nonsense.”
“I would have heard something about that if there were any truth in it.”
“Well, you’ve heard of Baxter’s Boxes of Peterborough, Tilbury, etcetera, etcetera,
etcetera.”
“Baxter’s coming here?”
“Yes, so they say. They were saying there were some men looking over the spare ground that lies
between the railway bridge and that row of houses. There’s quite a bit of land there, you know. And
they said it was Baxter’s men who were thinking of buying it. Of course, it’s going muck-cheap now,
and if they start building they’ll have the labour muck-cheap an’ all.”
Joe put his pen down and stared up at Miss Pringle, then said slowly, “It’s likely just a rumour:
those two men are reds; they want to unsettle the rest of them. “
“Yes, you may be right, but on the other hand there might be something in it; there’s never smoke
without fire.”
“Their stuff’s shoddy: our people wouldn’t go to them; I mean, our customers.”
They stared at each other, and Joe, nodding his head, said, “Don’t say it, I know, for a penny a box
cheaper they’d barter their souls.”
“Drink your tea.” She was pushing the cup towards him when the wail of the siren passed over the
town. It was a sound like no other: the hooters in the dockyard, the hooters in the
factories,
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large and small, had their own particular sound, but when the pit siren sounded its wail spelt disaster.
For a matter of seconds neither Joe nor Miss Pringle moved, nor was there any sound of saws or
hammers or grinding lathes coming from the shops.
Miss Pringle was the first to break the silence. She put her knuckles to her mouth as she said, “Oh! not
another one.” Miss Pringle knew all about pit disasters. Her father had been killed in one, as also had
the boy she had been planning to marry.
Joe took her arm, saying, “Now, now; it might just be something slight.” From
experience he knew that
Old May, as his father called her, could weather any emergency except a pit disaster.
“Go and sit down,” he said, “I’ll take a run along there and see what the situation is.
Now, now, stop
shaking.” He shook her arm, then said briskly, “It’s your turn to drink your tea. Then don’t forget
there’s that batch of letters to get off, and if we’re going to have opposition from another factory we’ll
need to be on our toes, won’t we?”
His brusqueness worked to some degree. She took her hand from her mouth, replying
sharply, “All
right! All right! All right!” and marched out of the office.
A few minutes later he was in the car making for the pit-head, as seemingly was
everybody else in the
town, for the pit village housed only a third of the miners employed in the mine.
He couldn’t get the car anywhere near the gates,
nor, when he got out, could he get much information, because everyone was asking
questions, and there
was no-one to give any clear answers, except that there had been an explosion and it was thought part of
the mine was flooded.
Seeing the impossibility of getting further information at the moment, he got into the car and drove home,
though not right up to the house.
Driving straight to The Cottage, he found David trying to console young Elizabeth, who was crying for
her mother.
“Have you heard anything?” David asked immediately.
“No, nothing specific. I couldn’t get near the gates to see. They say there’s been an explosion and
there’s water in.”
“Hazel’s in a state: old Dan’s on this shift, and Willie and Fred an’ all.”
“They’ll be all together?”
“I don’t rightly know, but I wouldn’t be a bit surprised; they’re all face workers.”
“Willie and Fred are the married ones, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Still, it mightn’t be as bad as we’re anticipating.”
“God! let’s hope not ... There, there; now stop crying. Come on, don’t let Mr. Joe see you’re a big
baby.”
“I want me mammy.”
“I’ll tell you what.” Joe now dropped onto his hunkers before the little girl and, taking her hand,
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he said, “How would you like to come and play with Martin? You know you like to play
with Martin,
don’t you?”
“Yes.” The tears were blinked away and a slow smile spread over the round, pretty face.
“Well, then, your daddy will take the car and bring your mummy back straightaway from your
grandma’s and in the meantime you’ll come up to the house with me and we’ll all have a fine game in the
nursery. What about it, eh?”
Elizabeth’s smile widened. She glanced coyly up at her father now, and David said under his breath,
“You may need the car if ...”
“I don’t need it.” Joe kept his eyes on the child’s face.
“Get yourself away, and if you can make use of it down there, do so.”
From the corner of his eye he could see David standing still, and he said now abruptly,
“Go on, man,
before the waterworks start again.”
“Will I get my coat, Mr. Joe ?”
“Yes, get your coat, dear.”
“The one with the hood?”
“Yes, the one with the hood.”
As the child ran into the bedroom, David took his own coat from the back of the door
and, as he put it
on, Joe said, “Tell Hazel not to worry about her; she’ll be all right, and she can stay the night up there if
you’re not back.”
“Thanks, Joe.”
As her father went out of the door Elizabeth came running from the bedroom in a red
mackintosh coat
with a hood attached, and Joe shaped his mouth
into a large amazed, ‘0 .. h! “ before he said, “ My! My! don’t you look bonny. “
“Granda bought it for my birthday.”
“Your granda certainly knows what suits you. Come on then.”
He heard the car turning in the road as he lifted her into his arms;
then having gone out the back way, he cut through the garden to the house.
He still held the child in his arms as he went across the hall and up the stairs, and as she looked about
her in curiosity, for it was the first time she had been inside the house, the hood fell back from her head.
He had just reached the landing when Elaine’s sitting-room door opened and his wife
emerged, followed
by Betty.
They both stood and stared at him and the child for a moment, and as he approached them he began to
talk.
“You would have heard the siren, so you know what’s happened.” He spoke in a kind of
aside and
chose his words: “There’s three of the G-A-N-S down there, all on the face, I
understand ... You see
who I’ve got here?” He bounced the child in his arms.
“She’s come to play with Martin, haven’t you?”
When he looked at her, the child, more out of shyness than anything else, pressed her cheek against his,
and at that moment the nursery door opened and Martin, his face bright with surprise and pleasure, cried,
“Oh, it’s Elizabeth! Look! Mummy, it’s Elizabeth.”
“No/ Go back into the nursery, Martin, this
moment .. No/’ The ‘no’ was directed with deep emphasis towards Joe.
“What do you mean, no?” His voice was quiet now.
“Haven’t I told you what’s happened. Hazel and David have had to go to the pit-head.”
At the mention of the names Elaine’s face seemed to blanch; her eyes grew wide and her lips left her
teeth as if she were about to yell.
Her eyes were riveted on the two faces while her mind cried at her that it was what she had suspected
all along, and now she had proof of it. She had seen the child occasionally but had never really looked at
her closely. Moreover, she had forbidden Nellie to take Martin anywhere near the
cottage; and Joe had
previously known better than to bring the child into the house. Now there he was, the child in his arms,
and who could deny her parentage? Her eyes, her mouth, her nose, even the shape of her face was his.
Her voice rose to a screech as she cried, “Take her away!”
“Elaine! Elaine! come, come ...” Betty was holding her firmly by the arms in an
endeavour to turn her
around; and Joe, putting the now frightened child on her feet, pushed her towards Martin and then
shoved them both into the nursery and closed the door on them; then, moving to Betty’s assistance, he
almost carried Elaine into the sitting—room.
When, with a strength that gave a lie to her languidness, she thrust them both off, they stood staring at
her helplessly for a moment as her hands went to her heart. Then, as they caught her
before
she fell, they looked at each other, and their eyes spoke the same words: “Oh, not again.”
Two days later the bodies of Clan, Willie and Fred Egan were brought out of the pit and Elaine resumed
her breakdown, although this time she had to depend only on the ministrations of Betty, for she would not
tolerate Joe near her; in fact, she herself locked both the outer door to the dressing-room and the door to
her bedroom at night, and opened them again only in the morning.
She had only to resort to this twice in order to keep him away from her. The first time it happened he
had taken his fist and hammered on the door, while he yelled, “Open this door, do you hear? or I’ll
break it down,” He wasn’t going to be made a fool of in his own house.
The next night, when he found the doors locked, he just quietly tried the handles, then turned about and