The Moth, page 31
He pushed his bicycle into the shed next to the workshop; then before going indoors he went into the workshop and stood looking round him for a moment. The whole place spelt peace, and there was that aroma, that scent that only wood gave off. What he should have done was to tell her that he was coming back here for good. Well, he still could . . . But could he? Could he look her in the face and say, ‘You’ll not be seeing me again and I won’t be seeing you except on very rare occasions’? At the moment he couldn’t; but he felt there would be a time soon when he would have to, when his body would no longer take heed of his head. It was having a hard enough struggle now. How he had restrained himself from pulling her into his arms before this he didn’t know. Oh, yes he did . . . the barrier. It was made of glass and both of them could see through it, and she was standing firmly on the other side.
‘There you are,’ Alice said. ‘Been working late?’
‘No, Aunty.’ He made himself grin as he added, ‘I’ve taken to the beer again.’
‘Oh.’ She turned her head away from him, trying to hide her smile as she said, ‘You’re a naughty lad. Anyway, there’s some roast lamb will help to sop it up. Come on, your dinner’s ready.’
‘I’ll just wash first,’ he said. ‘How’s your day been?’
‘Oh, much the same as usual, but there’s two new orders in. That’s five this week. Tim’s going on about not being able to cope. What do you think about getting another lad? The Wentworth boy from the bottom cottage finished school last month. He’s been set on in the brickyard but he doesn’t like it, so his mother says. I think she was hinting. What do you think about it?’
‘It’s up to you, Aunty. You’re running the business.’ He didn’t say he had been thinking along those lines.
‘Yes, but I don’t know much about boys. And Tim’s funny. If they’re a bit perky in answering back, he says they’re cheeky, if they say nothing, he says they’re dimwits.’
They both smiled now, and he said, ‘Well, tell the boy to look in tomorrow night. I’ll see what he’s made of.’
He was drying his face on the towel when she said, ‘I forgot. There’s a letter for you. I left it on the sitting-room mantelpiece. I’ll get it.’
‘No, you get on carving up that lamb, woman. I’m starving.’
‘Good.’
She was laughing gently. She was a changed woman; she was always bright-faced these days. Well, it was good to know he had made somebody happy. He went into the sitting room and took the envelope from the mantelpiece. He looked at the hand-printed address which told him nothing, and he pursed his lips before slitting open the envelope. Then his whole body became still for, as if emerging from a shell, there appeared over the serrated edges of the paper the wispy ends of a white feather. Slowly he drew it out of the envelope, and too the piece of paper on which it had been lying. This he turned over and back again. It was blank.
There arose in him now a kind of fury. If he had been out of doors in the yard he would have hurled something against the brick wall; he would have lifted his foot and kicked at the first object he came to; he would have taken his fist and battered it against the wall. He stood absolutely still, yet inside his innards seemed loose. It was as if the half a pint of beer he had taken earlier was working on them. He felt sick.
‘Robert. Didn’t you hear me?’
He shuddered and turned towards her, and at the sight of his face she hurried to him. He said nothing, but handed her the feather and the envelope. And she took them, saying, ‘Oh, no! Now who would do that?’
‘Aye. Who would do it?’
‘Nancy?’
‘Could be. But I’ve learned just the night that it could be others.’
‘Those at the inn?’ She cast her glance up at him.
‘Aye.’
‘I thought you said they were good people.’
He hesitated for a moment before answering, ‘Yes, I did; and I suppose I could say they still are; but you see, when your only son’s at the front, it colours your viewpoint.’
‘Eeh! It’s awful’ – she shook her head – ‘cowardly to do a thing like that.’
He took the feather and the envelope from her, saying, ‘Well, that’s the purpose of it they think, because I am cowardly.’
‘You’re no coward.’
The defensive note in her voice made him smile slightly as he said, ‘Well, it’ll soon prove it if I run off the morrow and join up.’
‘You’ll do no such thing . . . will you?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Come and get your dinner.’ As they went from the room she added, ‘You’ve got one consolation, you’re not the only one that gets them. Philip Tyler got one on Saturday.’
‘Him in the village? But he’s on farm work.’
‘Yes, but he only took it up after war was declared. His had a message with it. Get out of your bolthole, it said, and into a trench.’
‘Well, I’m glad I’ve got company.’
They were halfway through the meal when Alice, laying down her knife and fork at each side of her plate and looking towards the window that showed beyond the side garden a fence that divided their land from that of the Parkins, said, ‘She was in not half an hour ago, she had come straight from work, Nancy I mean. She was saying that somebody was coming to look over the house and she got on talking about you, why you were staying up at Foreshaw. Anyway, what do you think we should do about the house? Pay him what he asks, because I don’t think we should let it slip through our fingers.’
‘No, no, I don’t think we should pay him what he asks. Hang on; nobody but a fool would pay three hundred for that place, especially when they see inside and what’s to be done to it.’
‘You think so?’
‘I’m sure of it. And Aunty, the next time she comes, you refer her to me, will you?’ The side of his mouth curled upwards. ‘Tell her I’m the one that’s doing the business; at least, tell her to tell her father that. But I’d like to come face to face with her; I would know immediately if she had anything to do with that piece of white leghorn, because it’s a chicken’s feather, isn’t it?’
‘I wouldn’t know. But anyway, I’ll do that. Aye.’ She smiled broadly at him now. ‘I’ll say quite calmly, Robert is dealing with all the business. The mere mention of your name narks her. Do you think I’m gettin’ spiteful?’
‘Aye, I do; and not afore time.’ They exchanged smiles now, but then became silent because, as they both knew, it was no laughing matter getting a white feather.
Eleven
‘Are we going to have a party at Christmas, Bradley?’
‘I don’t think so, Miss Millie, not this year, with the war on.’
‘The war’s a funny thing, isn’t it? Why do people fight each other? Will the Germans come here? Stanley says they have big birds that fly in the sky. He said it to frighten me, but I’m not frightened of anything that flies because I want to fly. I will fly some day. I hung out of the window last night and caught hold of the wisteria branch and it swayed back and forward like a bird . . . ’
He pulled himself from under the dining-room table where he had been straightening a castor on one of the legs; then sitting back on his haunches, he looked up into the thin wraithlike figure as he said, ‘Now Miss Millie, you promised me, didn’t you, you wouldn’t hang out of the window and touch that wisteria? Now you promised, because I told you if you did it again I’d have to tell Miss Aggie, and then she would block the window up.’
‘I only did it a little bit. You see, I forgot. Sometimes I forget things.’ She walked from him towards the fireplace where some damp logs were smouldering and she said, ‘I like it better when I forget things, Bradley; it’s much nicer when I forget things. I want to forget about Stanley, because he shouts at Aggie when he comes. He looks very smart in his uniform, but he’s not nice, and he upsets Aggie. Why is everybody upset, Bradley, and shouting? I don’t like people shouting. Dave shouts a lot now. He shouted at Lady today and she was frightened and she ran away. I had to run after her and catch her and tell her that Dave didn’t mean it and that he wasn’t going to put her in the stable. Dave was vexed with me and said he wouldn’t bring me any more lucky bags. But I think I’m too old for lucky bags, don’t you, Bradley?’
‘Yes, yes, you are, you are much too old for lucky bags. Young ladies should have chocolates.’
‘Yes, they should.’ She laughed now, her mouth wide, her eyes sparkling; then her head on one side, she asked, ‘Do you like me with my hair up, Bradley?’
‘I do. I do indeed, miss. I think it looks very smart, in fact it makes you into quite a young lady, a very beautiful young lady.’
‘You think I am beautiful, Bradley?’
‘Indeed I do, miss. But now I must get on with this other castor, else when you’re having your Christmas dinner the table will tip up and – whoop! – the turkey will take wings.’ He demonstrated with his hand in a swooping movement the turkey leaving the table, and she was responding with a wide-mouthed laugh when the door burst open and there, like the avenging angel, stood Dave Waters. He was stooped at the shoulders as if about to spring forward; then coming up the room, he cried, ‘Miss Millie! Come away. Come away upstairs. Peggy’s been looking for you. This is no place for you. And I’ve told you what will happen to that dog if you don’t keep it off the chairs.’ As he swooped towards the poodle that was curled up in a leather chair to the side of the fire, Millie also sprang and, grabbing the animal to her, she cried, ‘You mustn’t put her in the stable. She gets frightened, she doesn’t like the dark. She . . . she told me she doesn’t like the dark. He mustn’t do it, must he?’ She had turned appealingly to Robert, but he remained silent, staring at Dave Waters. And now Dave Waters hissed at him, ‘This is your doing, putting her up to it. But wait, wait . . . just you wait till Mr Stanley comes. I’ll empty me mouth. By God! I will.’
Robert walked up to him and with his face turned away from Millie’s direction he muttered under his breath, ‘You want to be careful that you don’t get your mouth busted before you get the chance to open it.’
Dave Waters sprang back from him, crying, ‘Now you’ve done it! That’s your limit. I’m standing no more of you. I’ll see Mr Stanley. He’ll settle this once and for all. He’s the master here, not her, not her.’
When the door had closed on them, Robert stood looking down at his open tool bag by the side of the table and, drawing in a long deep breath, he said, ‘He’s right, this is the limit. I can’t put up with this any longer. I’ll have to tell her as soon as she gets back.’ She had gone into Birtley to do some shopping: he reckoned she should be here any time now. Well, once he saw her, it would be over and done with, final this time. He couldn’t stand any more.
He grabbed up his tools and went out and up to the room above the stable. All he had up there now belonging to him was an overcoat and a pair of shoes which he now changed into to cycle home. This done, he rammed his boots on top of his tools, and put on his overcoat; then going to the window, he stood looking down into the yard waiting for the trap to arrive.
It was about half an hour later when he saw her enter the yard, and as she stepped down from the trap she saw him standing dressed ready for his journey home. It was only two o’clock in the afternoon and her eyes widened and as she made to come towards him he walked to the horse’s head and led it into the stables. He unharnessed it and put it in the stall, the while she stood within the stables, saying, ‘What is it? Please tell me.’ Still he didn’t speak but picked up the bits and pieces and again walked past her into the harness room. She followed him, and when he turned from the horse bench they stood looking at each other as she murmured, ‘You’re going. What’s happened?’
‘I can’t stand any more. There’ll be trouble and serious trouble with Waters, unless I get away. That man’s mad.’
She shook her head now as she said, ‘I’ll . . . I’ll talk to him.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
She took no offence at this, but now she gripped the front of her coat with her hands, saying, ‘What will I do? What can I do?’
‘Nothing.’ His voice was quiet. ‘’Tis better this way. You know it, and I know it. In fact everybody knows it, at least it appears so. We should have had sense from the beginning, at least I should, and know you can’t climb mountains in your bare feet. Although’ – he smiled a little sadly now – ‘I’ve had a damn good try, and would have gone on, just trying . . . well, just being near you. I might as well say it now. You’ve known it for a long time why I stayed on here, just to be near you. And I’m not mistaken, you wanted that, didn’t you?’
Her head made an almost imperceivable movement downwards, and then she whispered, ‘Yes, oh yes. And . . . and I don’t know what I’ll do now. I . . . I can’t imagine what life will be like in the future. You’ve . . . you’ve shown me a new existence, what . . . what life could be like . . . ’
He turned his head away for a moment as he said, ‘That’s perhaps a romantic view; you’re lonely; I happened to be here. If there had been somebody of your own class around, a decent fellow, you wouldn’t have noticed me . . . ’
‘Oh, yes I would. I . . . I met a number of men before I became engaged to James Crockford, but now I know they were all wanting. I never knew what it was really to feel for anyone un . . . until recently. And now for the remainder of my life all I’ll know is that you are near, so near, yet so far away . . . ’
‘As for being near, that won’t be for much longer. I would have to tell you sooner or later: I’m joining up. Three white feathers in two months has been a little too much.’
‘You’ve had white feathers?’
‘Yes. The first one didn’t seem to matter, it didn’t leave any impression, except it got me mad a bit. But these things can wear you down. You don’t know who’s sending them. In my case, I think it’s my one-time so-called friends. Anyway, I’d have been makin’ a move soon; this is just a little earlier.’
He watched her close her eyes tightly and when the tears squeezed themselves from underneath her lashes he put his hands out and caught hers, saying, ‘Don’t. Oh don’t. That’ll finish me.’
She opened her eyes, her lids blinking, but he made no attempt to draw her close. There was a distance of both their forearms between them when she said, ‘Robert, will you . . . will you please—’ he watched her throat swell before she finished, ‘kiss me, just . . . just once.’
God! This was it, the powder to the keg; she didn’t know what she was asking because once he kissed her . . . well . . .
Of a sudden she was in his arms, his lips hard on hers, her body pressed tight to him. Whatever she expected the kiss to be like, it had been nothing like this, this hot fierceness; but something in her responded to him and she clung to him and held him almost as fiercely as he did her.
So lost were they in each other that when the door burst open and they were wrenched apart they fell back blinking like bewildered children while they stared at the khaki-clad figure bristling with indignation.
‘How dare you lay your hands on my sister! You low lout, you!’
As the crop was raised to come down across his face, Robert ducked to his left, at the same time swinging his right fist across Stanley’s chin. And when the spruce lieutenant staggered against the horse saddle-tree, Robert’s hands went around his throat and, dragging him upwards, he now thrust him against the wall of the tack room. And what he might not have achieved in a moment or so had not Agnes torn at him, crying, ‘Don’t! Don’t, for God’s sake! Oh, please don’t.’
When they were separated, Stanley, holding his neck, and his face now suffused with rage, gasped, ‘You’ll suffer for this. I’ll have you behind bars before long. Get out!’
‘I’ll go when I’m ready.’
‘You! You . . . !’
‘You come out with one more insult an’ before God I’ll finish you off. What are you, anyway? What have you ever been but a gutless nowt?’ Robert now straightened his coat, picked up his cap from where it had fallen on the floor, then, after one long look at Agnes, he went out.
She stood, her hands now cupping her face, her hat awry on her head, her breath coming in large shuddering waves from deep within her, and when of a sudden she turned and ran towards the door Stanley grabbed her arm, saying, ‘No, you don’t. What’s come over you anyway, acting like a slut? You’re as much to blame as him, but by God, he’ll suffer for this! You’ll see if he doesn’t. I’ll have the police along there before he sleeps tonight.’
‘Oh no, you won’t.’ She wrenched herself from him.
‘Who’s going to stop me?’
‘I am. You lift one finger against him . . . Anyway, I would swear blind you were lying. But apart from that, you try to harm him in any way and I’ll explode your little world with that Diana Cunningham, or Mrs Lecombe as she is now. But her husband’s in the fighting line, isn’t he? And so are you and her.’
She knew she wasn’t only putting two and two together from the bits of gossip that Lady Emily had dropped, but she was using the fact that her brother on the few times he called in had not once since he had joined up passed a night in this house, and she knew that he had had weekend leaves.
‘You’re a bitch, do you know that? You’re a loose bitch.’
