The Man Who Cried

by Catherine Cookson

  ”What makes you think I’m shocked?” :;,.

  ”For a moment you looked it.” r-

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  In

  ”Well, I can only say that my looks belie my feelings.” F,

  • ”Anyway, that’s that and I’ve no need to ask you neverlto breathe a word of it, have I ?” |

  ”No, you have no need.”

  ”Her birth certificate doesn’t give her away either. . . . Do you like her?”

  Again there was a pause as if he were considering, and then he said emphatically, ”Yes; yes, I like her.”

  ”You could do worse than marry her.”

  ”I’m . . . I’m not that way inclined.”

  ”Oh, well” - she laughed gently now - ”you’d better make up your mind one way or the other because you won’t be able to stay there if you don’t. Well, you won’t, will you ?”

  ”Why shouldn’t I ?” His tone was on the defensive now.

  ”Can you imagine her consenting to having an affair with you ?”

  ”Who’s talking about affairs ? I wouldn’t dream about suggesting such a thing to her with her religious outlook.”

  ”That’s just it, that’s just it.” Her head was bouncing towards him. ”Life would become unbearable for both of you, she’d make it so. She’s young, she’s been married to an old man, can’t you see you’ll soon be called upon to make a choice ? It won’t be any use thinking you can’t be done without, she can get a manager in there any day.”

  ”I wasn’t under the impression that I could be done without and I’m well aware she can replace me tomorrow.” He felt annoyed, angry at her. Now he could in a way understand why Hilda lost her temper with her, her bluntness was disconcerting. He knew that his face was flushed, he wanted to get up and walk out. And he was on the point of doing just that when she asked quietly, ”Did you love your wife?” and his voice was loud in contrast as he answered briefly,

  ”No.” ”Never?” ,.„.;„•• ....

  ”A little at first; it didn’t last.” ,,- -,

  ”Have you ever loved a woman?”

  He stared at her, watching her face change into Alice’s. He saw her flat body take on a fleshy bust, her hips swell into comfortable mounds, her long thin fingers with their painted nails become blunt and roughened, and he answered on a long drawn-out breath, ”Yes, I once loved a woman.” ,rr ...

  ”Very much?”

  ”4

  He didn’t know whether it was she who had asked the question or if he had asked it of himself, so soft was it, but he answered, ”Yes, very much, very much.”

  ”Do you think it would have lasted?”

  ”Yes, I think it would.”

  ”I don’t think love ever lasts, not that kind of love, not the consuming kind, the kind that’s half pain. It isn’t fair really; anything so short-lived should be wonderful. But real love doesn’t work out like that. All the time you’re in it it’s playing hell with you, you’re full of fear in case it isn’t going to last. You’re jealous in case you’re going to lose it to someone else. The whole damn thing is an operation without anaesthetic.”

  ”Apparently you’ve had the operation?”

  She looked up at him, then turned her gaze away and nodded as if to herself as she said, ”Yes, I’ve had the operation; but only the once, not the three times I’ve mentioned. I was near eighteen, it was my first job after leaving the typing school and within six .months I’d worked my way up from the pool into the manager’s office. Boy! that was something to be proud of.” She shook her head again, and now she nodded towards him as she said, ”You can bring your eyebrows down and take that grin off your face because I didn’t fall for the manager. He had ginger hair and he sniffed; all the time he was dictating he sniffed.” She laughed outright now. ”No, I fell, like the fool I was, for an Adonis on the shop floor. I wouldn’t believe that he had worked his way through most of the female staff because I reasoned one of them would surely have caught him before this time, him being thirty. You know I went with him two and a half years. We were courting, as the saying goes, and I became estranged from every girl in those offices; they all wanted to be my friend and tell me I was being duped. But I knew they were just jealous, for didn’t I see my bold bohemian boy every night, up till ten o’clock that is? That was the time I had to be in or me dad locked the door. Can you imagine how I felt when I finally learned that the minute he left me he made straight for his young widow woman, who had four kids. I learned the truth from my boss - he was a nice man in spite of his sniff. He told me quite gently that my dear Fred had sent him notice and had taken the widow and her brood to Doncaster. Huh ! of all places, Doncaster, from where me dad had flown with the remnants of his love.

  ”5

  Vr^

  ”You know something ?” She leant forward again and, placing her hands on her knees, she patted them as she said in a tone that was full of soft bitterness, ”There wasn’t one person in that factory who didn’t believe that I knew about his capers; in some quarters they even said I had prevented him from marrying the poor widow woman and giving the bairns a much needed father. In other quarters it was said I deserved all I got and that I tried to keep him by buying him presents. It was true about the presents.” Her head moved slowly up and down. ”I spent every penny I had on him after paying my board. Anyway, I know what it’s like to be in love. . . . Was it anything like that with you ?”

  ”No, with me it was a beautiful thing on both sides.”

  ”What happened?” •r’ ”She died.”

  ”Oh . . . oh, I’m sorry. Would . . . would you like a cup of coffee?”

  ”I wouldn’t mind.”

  Left alone in the room, he lay back on the couch and slowly he began to move his hand first across his chin, then up and down each cheek. It was a sure sign that he was agitated, and recognizing it, he stopped the motion abruptly and joined his hands tightly in front of him.

  Whether he liked it or not he was becoming involved in this family; but how deep it would go was another question. Suddenly, he asked himself how much money he had and gave himself the known answer, seventy-two pounds. It was quite a sum - he had never had that much in his life before - but even so it wasn’t enough to set up a business. As things stood now he was on to a good thing : Hilda had refused to take payment for their midday meal and he was living rent free, so out of his four pounds a week all he had to do was to provide for the odd meals and to clothe them both. The latter he had done to excess with Dick. But if he were to strike out on his own he would have to rent a shop and find some place for them both to live, and with the particular business he had in mind, which would come under the heading of fancy goods, it would take some long time to become established. As a side line he could see it doing well, but to make a real living out of, no, it wasn’t possible.

  What he would do if he were faced with the alternative Florrie had suggested he didn’t know, except he would tell Hilda the truth.

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  And what would be the result of that ? He could even now see the look in her eyes and hear her voice saying, ”You mean to say you walked out just like that and left your wife simply because she objected to your affair with another woman ?” Now if it had been Florrie here to whom he had to speak the truth there would be no fear of her disdain; but then Florrie, by her own words, was used to men and their ways. . . . Only three of them though, so she had said, and the first one had been a right rotter by the sound

  of it.

  As she entered the room, he rose quickly to his feet and went towards her and, taking the tray from her, he placed it on the side table, and a few minutes later they were both sitting facing each other again sipping at the coffee now.

  When she said abruptly, ”Do you want to hear about number two ?” he gulped on a mouthful of the hot liquid, spluttered, then placed his cup on the table to his side and wiped his mouth, saying, ”Not if it hurts.”

  ”Oh, it doesn’t hurt, not number two. Makes me a bit
wild at times when I think about it, angry, mad at myself mostly for being such a damned fool as to be caught a second time. I’d left the factory office -1 wasn’t up to standing the comments, the hidden laughter and sneers - and having developed over the years a taste for dress, few and good is my motto in that line, I became an assistant in a big store in Newcastle and within a couple of years I was buying for my own department. But that came about through dead men’s shoes, or dead women’s in this case, for the buyer had a heart attack and I took over first on a temporary basis and did so well that I was offered the post. It was through this that I met William; not Bill or Billy, but William.” She began to laugh now, saying, ”I should have known from the beginning that anyone who demanded to be called William all the time, even by his girl friend, had something missing in his make-up, namely a sense of humour. Anyway, he was a traveller and to use his own words he caught on to me from the minute he clapped eyes on me. His work took him all over the North, so we didn’t see each other as often as we might. We had known each other a year when the question of marriage came up. But that was difficult because, you see, William had a widowed mother and two young sisters to support. He lived in Leeds, by the way. Twice I was invited to spend the week-end at his home, only for something to happen. The first

  ”7

  time, his mother took ill; the second, he was called rfway on business. I forgot to tell you that I wasn’t living at home at this time, I had taken a little flat, and so William saved on hotel bills whenever he was in this part of the country by receiving bed and breakfast.”

  At this point she stared unblinking at him, and in the same manner he returned her stare ; but when she resumed talking her eyelids blinked rapidly and she threw out both hands as if in a final gesture when she said, ”Oh, let’s make it short. Something cropped up that made me say to myself, no, not again, not again; lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place. And so I took a train to Leeds and found out the address that dear William had given me was an office. However, they supplied his private address, and when I knocked on the door I was confronted by his dear mother who was obviously his wife, and his two little sisters who happened to be his children. I made some excuse about calling at the wrong house, came back to Newcastle, waited for dear William to arrive the following week, then gave him the best pasting he’s ever had in his life. I used pans, vases and everything I could get my hands on. How he explained the loss of two teeth and a black eye and bruised shins to his wife I don’t know. That night I said to myself, no more; after this, I’m doing the choosing, I’m calling the tune, and it’s me who’s going to be paid by whoever plays it. And so I looked around. . . . Another cup of coffee ?”

  ”No, thanks.”

  ”Well, I need one.” She poured herself out another cup and sipped at it, and he waited without making any comment until she said briskly, ”Newcastle is a big place and in spite of the poverty of the North it’s a rich city; there are a lot of wealthy men in it, and in the course of staff entertainment I came in contact with a number of them, and so I made my choice. ... I think we made it’simultaneously, he and 1.1 knew he was married and that he had four children; I knew that his wife came out of a top drawer of society in this quarter of the globe, and I also guessed in a very short time that like all married men with four children and a wife he had become used to, he wasn’t happy. No married man is happy” - she moved her head slowly, weighing each word with cynicism - ”all the married men I have met and who have, may I say with some pride, wanted to make me comfortable, have all been unhappy with their wives. And they have all told me that I was the one they should have married in the first place and if they 118

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  had they would never have been in the emotional predicament in which I found them. Anyway, here I am.” She spread her arms wide now. ”This flat is mine, I don’t rent it; the business is mine, all signed and sealed in my name; and there you have it, three men in my life and I still don’t consider myself a prostitute. What do you think of that?”

  ”I think you’re a very honest woman. . . . Do you love this man?”

  ”No, not as I understand love. My idea of love, as I’ve said, is an emotion made up of pain, fear, jealousy, the lot. No, I like Charles, I like him very much. You could say we are, at the least, very good friends.” She gave a self-conscious laugh here. ”And now I have to force myself to be honest. We were up to a year ago, when his wife got wind of me and the screws began to turn.

  There was no talk of him having a divorce. Anyway, he didn’t want it, and I didn’t want it. But when I didn’t see him for three months life became rather empty; and now when I haven’t seen him for almost six months life is very empty. But as they say, that’s life, isn’t it? ... You shocked?”

  ”Why do you keep thinking you’re shocking me?”

  ”I don’t really know. Something about you, the way you look at me while I’m talking. It’s funny, but if I didn’t know you weren’t of a religious turn of mind I could imagine you were condemning me on those lines.”

  ”Good God!” He laughed as he turned his chin slowly from one shoulder to the other; then looking at her again, he said, ”It shows how little you know of me.”

  ”That’s true. But then, nobody seems to know very much about you. You’re a secret sort of fellow, aren’t you ?”

  From the heat creeping up from his neck he knew that his face was now red, and when he made no answer to her statement she said quietly, ”I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it rudely and I wasn’t prying. It doesn’t matter to me. If nothing else, the experience I’ve had has taught me everybody’s life is their own to do with as it suits them if that’s at all possible, and if it is, then they’ve got to stand the consequences. After saying all that I’m still not being nosey, and yet I’m wondering why you came round here the night?”

  What should he say to that ? That he came to take her down ? that he thought she would hardly notice, simply look on him as

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  one in the line of her suitors ? What he sajffwas, ”I don’t know.”

  ”I do. Shall I tell you?” I k

  ”I’d rather you didn’t.” I |

  ”Well, it’s to your credit. You saw that I was upset, hurt by what Hilda said. You don’t like people getting hurt. . . . Were you in the war?”

  ”Yes, and no.”

  ’Yes and no ? That’s a funny way of putting it. What were you ?”

  ”A conscientious objector.”

  ”Good God!”

  He watched her mouth widen to a broad smile, he watched her flat chest heave as she began to laugh, and he said, ”What’s so amusing about it?”

  ”I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m laughing; it... it was such a surprise, and the way you said it.” The smile sliding from her face now, she said thoughtfully, ”You must have been a pretty brave man. I could never understand why people thought the objectors were cowards. I knew one when I was a child, at least I knew where he lived. The women roundabout couldn’t take it out of him because he was locked up, but they took it out of his wife and bairn, broke their windows, the lot. You know something? The poor are very ignorant.”

  ”They haven’t got the monopoly.”

  ”No, perhaps not; but it seemed to me even in those far off days that few of them ever thought for themselves, they let themselves be led. You know something else ? I hated living in Bog’s End among the poor, even more than Hilda did. I hate going down there now. I hate small rooms, dull streets, sharing a backyard. All along Temple Street they’re still carrying the water upstairs.”

  ”Well, you don’t have to worry about that any more, do you?”

  ”No, I don’t.”

  They looked at each other now in what could have been hostile silence. It was as if he were defending the way of life she despised.

  But when they smiled and were both about to speak simultaneously a sound brought their heads around towards the door leading from the room into the hall. The sound was the turni
ng of a key in a lock followed by a door opening and closing.

  Before the sitting-room door was opened Florrie was already on her feet looking towards it; and now slowly Abel drew himself

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  upwards and he, too, looked towards the unexpected visitor standing there, one hand on the door.

  The man was as tall as himself but slim. He had thick fair hair and every feature of his face could be described as handsome. Over one arm he carried an overcoat and in the same hand he held a soft felt hat. Everything about him spoke of the well-dressed gentleman, and this was given the stamp of genuineness by the timbre of his voice when he said, ”I . . . I hope I’m not intruding.”

  ”Oh no, no.” Florrie went slowly towards him, smiling now, and having taken his hat and coat, she laid them over a chair; then extending her hand backwards without turning her head in Abel’s direction, she said, ”This is Mr Gray. He’s . . . he’s Hilda’s manager. He just called to give me a message from her.”

  She did not give the man’s name to Abel and the two men looked at each other and inclined their heads.

  ”Come and sit down; it’s frightfully windy out. Have you had a meal?”

  Abel watched the man coming towards him. He watched him pass between the couches, go to the fire, and hold his hands out towards it, and he thought, Six months, she said, since she’s set eyes on him; it could be six hours and he’s just returned from the office.

  ”I’ll have to bt going.” He was moving towards the door now, not the french windows but the door leading into the hall, and she looked at him and smiled. It was a warm smile, a smile that was thanking him for his tactfulness.

  ”I’ll tell Mrs Maxwell that it’s all right, you’ll be calling ?”

  ”Yes, tell her that.”

  He turned towards the man who was seated now in a corner of the couch. ”Good-night,” he said, and the man who was looking towards the fire and who seemed to have forgotten his presence screwed round and answered, ”Oh! Oh, good-night. Good-night.”