Justice is a Woman

by Catherine Cookson

  He threw off the measure of whisky in one gulp, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and said, ‘I might have kept silent, lass, but it was well known in most quarters; at least, it was guessed at.’

  ‘But you never openly acknowledged him?’

  ‘No, no; I couldn’t, not while his so-called father was alive. And then there seemed no point afterwards. And I was in the thick of this.’ He tapped his knees. ‘I think I might have done at one time, but then our Joe brought his lady wife home. I took one look at her and said to meself, she wouldn’t stand for that. And it is strange, but she hated David from the minute she saw him. And from the minute I saw her I predicted in me own mind the life our Joe was going to have ’cos I had the same meself. That’s why David came into being.’

  Mike looked out of the window now and said quietly, ‘She was a beautiful woman, his mother. Mary engaged her in the kitchen. She had the muckiest jobs to do, yet she always carried herself like a queen. I used to watch her from the window. I took to watching her, and when I spoke to her, and I did at every opportunity, her smile was warm. She was seventeen when she came but she was already a woman: she was a full-blooded negress and she could sing. She had a beautiful voice. But she could neither read nor write, but she could talk. Oh, how she could talk.’

  He turned to Betty now and, nodding his head slowly, he said, ‘She was wiser than Solomon in some of the things she said. And I wasn’t the only one that liked to look at her and hear her talk or sing. Brooks, he did the garden then—he used to come out from Fellburn—he lived with his widowed mother, a quiet fellow, church-going, no drink, that kind of a bloke. Well…’

  He now leaned back in the chair and gazed at the ceiling as he went on, ‘I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. I’ll only say this: it would never have happened if me wife had been anything like a wife to me; but from the time she fell with Joe she wouldn’t let me near her; that kind of thing was only for—’ He now brought his head down and his gaze slanted towards Betty and, his smile twisted, he said, ‘The word was procreation. A mouthful, that, isn’t it? But oh, I remember that word, I heard it often enough.’ He laughed out aloud as he said now, ‘There might have been another after Joe, when she felt the need to procreate again, but she found out about Nessy, and God! didn’t she give me hell! Unlike Elaine, she didn’t shout or bawl—I could have met that kind of attack from her—but no, she smiled at you while cutting your throat. She talked at me, showing up me ignorance. Did I ever tell you that’s why I started reading so much, because I was ashamed of being so ignorant? Anyway’—he brought his hand tightly down over his face—‘Nessy got pregnant. And I was at me wits’ end: I didn’t want her to leave, yet she couldn’t stay. Then one night Mary came and said Frank Brooks wanted to see me, and in a most formal way that fellow asked if I would object to his marrying Nessy. He knew all about what was going on. He was a good man, and he was a brave one an’ all, because I knew he would have to fight his mother and the chapelites, not forgetting how the ordinary folk looked upon a fellow marrying a black woman and vice versa. I can see him now, standing looking me straight in the eye, yet never hinting at the truth. I can hear meself saying that I saw no reason why he shouldn’t marry Nessy, while at the same time I felt like opening a vein and letting me blood run out, because me heart ached. You see, I loved her as I’ve never loved anybody afore or since. Anyway, I said he could have The Cottage, I’d have it done up, but…but he was to understand that Nessy couldn’t work in the house any more. I can hear him saying in an ordinary tone, “Yes, I understand that, sir.”’

  He stopped speaking; then he wetted his lips a number of times before saying, ‘Pour me another drink, lass, will you?’

  Betty poured out a single drink and gave it to him, and he sipped at it, then looked up at her. ‘It’s been a day of revelations, hasn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, it would seem so, Mike.’ Her voice was soft.

  ‘Do you blame me for not recognising him?’

  She considered for a moment before she said, ‘Yes; yes I do, Mike. I…I think you could have done it, at least to him personally after his father died; I mean, the man.’

  ‘Aye, lass, I suppose I could. But when you’re confronted with decisions like these they’re never simple. You look back on them and you think you should have done this or that, but at the time there are so many pressures around you. Yet I suppose I could and I should have done it, because me wife was dead by then.’

  ‘When…when did…David’s mother die?’

  ‘Four years after he was born. You know what I believe, lass? You can make yourself die, you can will yourself to die. Aw, yes, you can.’ He nodded his head as she shook hers as if in denial; and then he went on, ‘Once she married she hardly spoke to me. The only time she talked was in the depths of the garden there, and she said to me, “I used to love life, but I’m going to leave it early.” I never forgot those words. You see she cared for me as much as I did for her.’ He drew in a deep sigh now before he ended, ‘When she went, I expected Frank’s attitude to change towards the lad, but it never did. As I said afore, he was a good man. David was lucky to have him: anybody else might have given him hell. Well, now.’ He drained his glass. ‘Where do we go from here? Oh, oh, I know where you’re going, to the old girl’s. What do you think she’ll say…if she doesn’t already know?’

  ‘No; as yet she doesn’t know. And I haven’t the slightest idea what she’ll say. I can’t for the moment imagine she’ll want me to have the child there, but she might want me to stay with her until, as she might put it in her own words, it was time I was making other arrangements.’

  ‘Things will never be the same again in this house, lass, once you’re gone. What’s he going to do about it? Our Joe.’

  ‘There’s no need for him to do anything.’

  ‘That’s very magnanimous of you, but what about the bairn? They don’t call them bastards so often now but, nevertheless, there’s still the stigma.’

  ‘Well, that will be for me to deal with.’

  ‘Oh no, no, it won’t; it’ll be for the bairn to deal with when he grows up. That amuses me, that viewpoint, that it doesn’t matter now if you have a bairn on the side. No, it doesn’t matter so much to the mother; she’s not pushed into the workhouse anymore; but, let me tell you, it’ll still matter to the child.’

  ‘Well, what’s the remedy? Have you got one?’

  ‘Aye; you could take my name.’

  ‘Oh, Mike. No! No!’ She turned quickly away from him and made for the door, and he called after her, ‘Am I so objectionable to you?’

  Swinging round, she looked towards him, saying, ‘No; nor have you ever been objectionable to me; but, you know yourself, I couldn’t do such a thing.’

  ‘Aye. Aye, I suppose you’re right. Aw, lass, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘I’m gonna miss you like hell…Will you look in afore you go?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll look in, Mike.’

  She went out and closed the door quietly behind her. A day of revelations, he had said. Indeed, indeed, it was a day of revelations.

  Two

  Lady Ambers had just been listening to the six o’clock news on the wireless and she was now looking around the room as if in search of someone on whom she could pour out her feelings against…that man! All those poor men on the beaches of Dunkirk. Why couldn’t they send the Navy in? What was the Navy for? All those little boats paddling backwards and forwards. It was all very heroic, but they were being sunk by the dozen. What was needed was big guns to blast those Germans to hell, then ships to gather up all those poor men. She was glad she hadn’t a son. Yet in those far-off days she had longed…oh, how she had longed to bear a child. And she was sure it wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t succeeded. Yet, as she had told herself many times before, she must stop hoodwinking herself on this point: she’d had three registered husbands and quite a number of unregistered ones; it was very unlikely that they had all failed to implant
a child in her. She hated the word barren. She never uttered it or thought about it, except when it crossed her mind in dreams, for who would ever dare to associate barrenness with her vivacity.

  But now she was genuinely glad she’d had no son, for there would have been a grandson, and he, inheriting her own spirit, would more than likely be on that beach now; and it was such a beautiful evening, a real first day of June.

  She rose from her chair and walked very slowly to the French window and gazed out over the lawn and down to the river. It was all very beautiful and peaceful. The war was not touching her; but oh, she wished it would in some way, for she was so lonely. It being Saturday, Mrs Pollard left at twelve o’clock, and Nancy at five, and she wouldn’t see either of them until tomorrow at nine. They came later on a Sunday.

  ‘Hello!’

  Lady Ambers put her hands tightly to her heart before she turned round. Then, her mouth dropping into a gape, she cried, ‘Betty! Oh Betty! Oh, how you startled me!’

  ‘I’m sorry. I…I came in the back way.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you. Why didn’t you ring? What’s the matter? How did you get here anyway?’

  ‘I came by train and took a bus to the crossroads and walked the rest of the way.’

  ‘My goodness! And you had a case?’

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t very heavy. The rest of my things are at the station.’

  ‘The rest?’

  The old lady’s mouth fell into an even wider gape and, grasping hold of Betty’s hands now, she said, ‘Sit down. Sit down.’

  ‘No; you sit down.’

  ‘Well…well, we’ll both sit down. Now tell me; what’s happened? What’s brought you here, without my phoning, or begging, or praying?’

  ‘Do you think I might have a cup of tea first?’

  Lady Ambers stared at her, then said quietly, ‘Yes, my dear. Come along; we’ll go into the kitchen; Nancy left a tray set.’

  It was almost fifteen minutes later, back in the sitting room, when, unable to contain herself any longer, she straightened her back, joined her hands on her lap and demanded, ‘Well, out with it! You’ve left them, haven’t you?’ There was a note of triumph in her voice.

  ‘Yes. Yes, you could say I’ve left them.’

  ‘Years too late. Years too late. How did it happen? Tell me…Why didn’t you bring all your things along with you? You could have got a taxi from the village or phoned Dobson to come and fetch you. Of course, as always, he’d have an excuse about a local defence volunteers’ meeting or some such.’

  ‘I…I don’t know whether I’m going to stay or not, Lady Mary.’

  There was a moment’s silence while the old lady screwed up her face, and when she did speak there was a slight tremor in her voice as she said, ‘What do you mean, not going to stay? You haven’t gone and joined the Army?’

  ‘No, no.’

  ‘Then what do you mean? Out with it.’

  ‘What I’m going to say will come as a surprise to you and no doubt a shock.’

  ‘Well! Well! I’m waiting and I’m used to shocks. Out with it! I say.’

  ‘I’m…I’m pregnant. My baby is due in October.’

  Betty now watched the old lady lean back in her chair. She watched her eyes stretch, her nose stretch, her mouth stretch. For the moment she seemed utterly lost for words. But only for the moment; and then she said, ‘Well! Well! So you’re pregnant. I suppose at your age you look upon it as a sort of miracle. And I’m not going to ask you who the father is; I’m going to tell you. It’s him, isn’t it? Mr Joe Remington. Oh! Oh! I’ve seen it coming.’

  ‘You haven’t, Lady Mary!’

  ‘Don’t contradict me, girl. Yes, I have. He hasn’t come here year after year and dragged you away just to look after his wife and his father, it was because he missed you. Well, what do you want me to say? What a clever girl you are, eh?’

  ‘No; all I want you to say is that you don’t think too badly of me.’

  ‘Oh!’ Lady Mary looked as if she were endeavouring to throw herself about but was being impeded by the arms of the chair. ‘Think too badly of you? You should have done that years ago; but properly and after you were married. Yet—’ Her restless thrashing movement stopped and she put out her hands and gripped those of Betty, saying, ‘If you had, what would I have done all these years without you? You know, you’ve been like a daughter to me. But mind’—her voice had taken on its strident note again—‘a very neglectful daughter, giving me only smatterings of your time, the rest to that ungrateful lot. But now’—her voice dropped again—‘you’ve come home and you’ll be my daughter in truth and I’ll have a grandchild.’ She thumped her chest now with the flat of her hand. ‘Yes! I’ll be a grandmama. Oh! my dear. Now, now. Don’t. Don’t.’

  Betty had slid from the chair on to her knees and, her face now buried in the old lady’s lap, she gave way to a storm of pent-up weeping; and Lady Mary held her but remained quiet, staring ahead while she prayed in her own way, giving thanks to God for easing her loneliness and, moreover, for ensuring that she wouldn’t die alone.

  Three

  To Joe, the house seemed starkly empty. There was no activity in it. There was activity everywhere else, in the towns, in the whole country, in the whole world, but the house seemed to have died. For most of the day only his father and Mary were in it; he himself went out in the morning and didn’t return until six o’clock, when he would call at The Cottage and pick up Martin and they would go back to the house together and have a scratch meal. And the meals were scratch these days.

  Elaine had gone to London later on that day when so much had been revealed: she had left the house without speaking to anyone except Martin, and to him she had said, ‘I’m going up to town to make arrangements. I shall come back for you.’ And that was a fortnight ago.

  The boy now knew that David was his uncle and that his grandfather was also David’s father. It had also come to him during the past two weeks that, although he liked his Aunty Bett better than he did his mother, he was very sorry for his mother. Yet he had never felt sorry for her before. He couldn’t understand these feelings, only that nobody seemed to like her, and it was a pity, because she was beautiful to look at, and she could be so nice when she liked. And too, she had always been nice to him, except when he disobeyed her about seeing Elizabeth.

  He knew that when she returned it would be to take him away with her and that he should tell his father what she intended to do, yet at the same time he considered it unnecessary to do this because, as much as he would like to please her, he couldn’t possibly leave his father and his grandfather and Elizabeth. And he must tell her so, but in such a way that she wouldn’t be upset.

  The boy now looked towards the door, and as Joe entered he greeted him: ‘Hello, Father,’ he said, and Joe walked over to him and ruffled his head as he said, ‘Hello, son,’ and again, ‘Hello, there,’ as he now ruffled Elizabeth’s head. Then turning to Hazel and David who were seated at the other side of the tea table, he said, ‘Well, that’s the end of that: Goodbye, Remington Wood Works.’

  David rose slowly to his feet and went to the hob, from which he brought the teapot and poured out a cup of tea. He pushed it towards Joe, who was now sitting at the table, saying quietly, ‘When this is all over you’ll likely start again.’

  ‘On what?’

  David didn’t answer, and Hazel asked, ‘Are you going to take Baxter’s offer of manager?’

  Joe looked at her, then nodded his head for a moment before replying, ‘Well, it goes very much against the grain, but it’s either that or munitions.’

  ‘Have they made up their mind what they are doing about the factory? Renting or buying?’ asked David now.

  ‘Renting. They’re going to use it just as a storage place, but they’re buying the equipment.’ He lowered his head and his voice was a mutter as he said, ‘I never thought it would come to this.’

  ‘How is it they can keep going and you can’t?’

  Again
Joe looked towards Hazel. ‘Big government contracts,’ he said, ‘and Baxter’s got his fingers in so many pies. Well’—he smiled weakly—‘I suppose I’ll have to swallow my pride and take it. Some would say I’m lucky to get the chance of running a similar business only twenty times bigger than my own was.’ He sighed, drank the rest of his tea, then rose to his feet, saying, ‘Come on, young man. Mary will be fuming at the mouth because the meal will be getting cold…or shrivelling up in the oven. Either way.’ He looked at the table. ‘You haven’t been eating here, have you?’

  ‘He just had a bite,’ put in Hazel, laughing.

  ‘I don’t know where you put it.’ Joe now smiled at his son, and Martin answered, ‘I’m always hungry, Father. Mary says I’m a growing lad.’

  They were all laughing together when the sound of a car coming in through the gates checked them, and David, moving quickly to the window, looked through the curtains, then back at Joe, and after their glance had held for a moment Joe said, ‘Elaine?’

  David nodded briefly, and Joe, now turning quickly to Martin, commanded, ‘Stay here! Don’t come up for a while.’ Then he looked over his shoulder towards David, adding, ‘Send him back in about an hour.’

  ‘Father…’

  ‘Look, Martin, don’t argue.’

  ‘I…I wasn’t going to, Father, I was only going to say…’ The boy shook his head and looked down.

  ‘What?’

  Martin glanced from one to the other; then, again shaking his head, he said, ‘It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.’

  Joe went swiftly out and up the drive. A taxi was turning about. In the hall he turned towards the stairs, then went swiftly to the drawing room and opened the door. She wasn’t there. A few minutes later he unceremoniously thrust open her bedroom door and saw her sitting at the dressing table. Her coat and hat were lying on a chair to the side of her and she was dabbing her face with a pad of cotton wool.