The Long Corridor

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘Oh, Paul, Paul. It was me, me…It was me.’

  ‘What d’you mean…you? Don’t you believe it. Don’t you believe it for a minute. I’ve had it in mind for a long time, even before…even before you had that done.’ He touched her nose with his fingers and her tears ran over his hands. ‘You’re so good, Jinny, so nice, so nice inside. Will you forgive me and forget it?’

  Her head drooped low on to her chest.

  ‘We’ll both likely have forgotten it by tomorrow morning, anyway. Your mixing your drinks made your load as big as mine, but I’m more used to it. Come on now, get off to bed and I’ll let myself out.’ He rose from his knees, then pulled her up to face him. And now he said softly, ‘Can I kiss you, Jinny? It’ll be the last time, for I’d better not play about with this.’

  She gave him no answer, nor did she move when his face loomed nearer, but she shivered when his mouth touched hers. Otherwise she made no response.

  ‘Goodnight, my dear. Try to forget it, eh?’

  He left her standing limp in the middle of the room, and when he reached the drive he unbuttoned his greatcoat which he had just done up, unloosened his scarf, then slackened his collar and tie. He felt he was about to go up in flames. My God, that was a near thing…Jinny! Jinny! He’d been a blasted blind fool, hadn’t he? But how was he to guess at a thing like that. And she wasn’t drunk, not even tipsy. She’d had four drinks since seven o’clock last night. Four drinks in seven hours. It wasn’t drink that had made her give way. It was hard, even now, to associate passion with Jinny, yet she had held him as even Ivy had never held him. In those brief moments she had poured herself over him…Aw, Jinny, Jinny. Well, if he was so sorry for her why hadn’t he responded, gone the whole hog, for she had needed him; at least she needed something, someone…no, not someone, or anyone…him. Why hadn’t he seen it before? All these years she had been handmaiden to Bett. Was it because of him? He saw again the look in her eyes, bare, stark; offering him all she had, all she was; and from Jinny that would be no small thing, even without the passion thrown in…God! One thing he was thankful for, she had a place of her own. It would have been unbearable if it had happened in the house. Yet somehow he felt that it would never have happened in his house. He wished daylight was here, for when he was sober all this would be blurred and would fade like a dream. But if it didn’t, what then? Well, he’d have to keep up the game, the game of shouldering the blame, of being a bit of a skunk, and he’d have to play it well if things were to continue as they had always been between him and Jinny.

  As he walked down the slippery hill he realised that he wouldn’t have to wait for daylight to sober him up—he felt stark sober now.

  PART FOUR

  BETT

  One

  It was towards the end of February, on a Monday morning, that Paul, looking at his engagements for the week, decided to visit Ivy that night because there didn’t look much chance of him having any free time until the weekend, and he didn’t want her to sit at home each evening waiting for him.

  Tomorrow night there was a Conservative dinner; on Wednesday he had to go to a medical meeting in Newcastle, which meant him getting back late for surgery and doing his visiting afterwards. He could have got over this by asking John Price to fill in for him, but he didn’t like to impose; John was too willing. Of course, being one of a four-way partnership gave him an easier time. Still, that wasn’t the point. Then Thursday was clinic day and there wouldn’t be a spare minute between getting out of bed until getting into it again…And Friday. Well, Friday was the day for sweeping up so to speak, getting things tidy for the weekend if he hoped to have a half day clear on Saturday, and he wanted Saturday clear. He wanted the weekend clear so that he could get down to some study, revising. It was only ten days before the Board sat, and he wasn’t sure what questions might be thrown at him. He was worried about going before the Board, there was no use hoodwinking himself.

  By the second post that morning a letter came from Doctor Beresford. Elsie gave it to him when he called in from his rounds to phone the hospital about getting a patient in. It was the first letter he had received from the doctor and it puzzled him, puzzled him greatly. The letter was written in old-world phraseology, and to the effect that Doctor Beresford would like him to call at his house at seven o’clock that evening. The matter for discussion was something that warranted a private meeting, otherwise the letter would not have been written. The whole tone was that of an order, and it both angered him and made him apprehensive, for he linked it with Friday and the selection committee.

  During the rest of the morning the letter loomed large in his mind, and one period he almost phoned Beresford; his intention being to say he would be unable to call on him this evening and would he state his business now. But this action, he knew, would be nothing more or less than the outcome of his fear…But fear of what?

  In the afternoon of that particular Monday Bett went to see Jenny.

  Over the past weeks Jenny had curtailed her visits to the house. She had made various excuses for her absence and some of them seemed very thin. When she ran out of them altogether she decided that she must do what she should have done weeks ago, get herself away from the agonising proximity of Paul, for once having dropped the barrier of sisterly affection, try as she might, she couldn’t raise it again.

  On the day after Boxing Day he had come with the others to her house-warming, and, taking her aside, he had apologised, telling her that everything about last night was a bit hazy, but, having remembered bits here and there, he felt he had overstepped the mark and would she forgive him?

  She had wanted to believe that this was really how he had thought it had happened. Oh, how she wanted to believe it to ease the shame; not of what her feelings had led her to, but of what they had not achieved. If only he had loved her, just that once, she would have lived on it for the rest of her life…or would she? Would it have been the beginning of something unbearable? Because in the light of day it was unbearable that she should have an association with Bett’s husband. If only she could have believed him her mind would have been easier, but knowing his innate kindness, she had no proof but that he remembered everything as it happened, and was helping her to shield herself.

  And this personal matter was not the only worry she had. She was and always had been very, very fond of Lorna, and she knew there was something wrong with the girl. The boisterous enthusiasm, the heritage of all youth, had fallen from her, leaving her quiet and tired looking, or glum and stubborn, the latter always when in the company of her mother.

  And there was Bett. She felt that in some way she had betrayed Bett. In moments of logical thinking she knew that this was ridiculous, more so when she gave thought to the fact of the number of times that Bett must have been unfaithful to Paul. You don’t go out often with a man like James Knowles and expect to eat tea and buns, so to speak.

  Anyway, she would soon be far away from them all…although what she was going to do by herself in a hotel in Switzerland she didn’t know. She could have taken a holiday in England but she wanted to put distance, long distance, between herself and those nearest to her.

  She was actually packing her last case when the doorbell rang, and the sound made her hope it was Paul, then hope it wasn’t. But on opening the door and being confronted by Bett, the colour flooded guiltily to her face. She saw at once that her cousin was definitely agitated, worked up to a high pitch about something. It was in her manner, in her walk, and the fact that she didn’t come to the point straight away. Also she didn’t look well, she looked as if she had a heavy cold. Her face was red and her voice was hoarse as she said, ‘Well, if Mohammed won’t go to the mountain…’

  Jenny followed her into the sitting room, saying, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been round these last few days but I’ve been so busy. I’ve had to keep trotting back and forwards to Newcastle about passports and this, that, and the other.’

  ‘You’re lucky you can trot back and forwards to Newcast
le about this, that, and the other.’

  ‘Aw, Bett, don’t keep on. I offered you the car.’

  ‘I didn’t want the car, I told you, I wanted the money. But looking back now, I could have taken the car and sold it, couldn’t I? I’m a damned fool.’

  She turned from Jenny and walking the length of the room looked out on to the tangled garden that surrounded the house before she said, ‘You’ve always done everything in your power to tie me to that house and him, haven’t you?’

  ‘Don’t talk rot, Bett. I’ve only thought what was best for Lorna and you, and I didn’t want to be the one to give you the chance or egg you on to do something foolish.’

  ‘Foolish! That’s funny, that’s a ha-ha-ha. Do you know something?’ Now she swung round and walked quickly towards Jenny. ‘It’s the do-gooders of this world that cause all the trouble. If I’d left him years ago we’d both have had some chance of happiness. But no, the respected Doctor Higgins couldn’t bear the thought of anyone walking out on him. And then there was you, yarping on all the time, telling me that my place was with him and Lorna. Well, now, as you’re going off tomorrow…it is tomorrow, isn’t it?’ Jenny didn’t answer and Bett went on, ‘I thought I’d tell you that your efforts have all been in vain, because very shortly Fellburn will know Doctor Higgins no more; neither will the house. I’ve always told you that I’d get him where I wanted him, haven’t I? Well, the day has come.’

  ‘Don’t talk wild, Bett. What’s the matter with you?’

  ‘I’m trying to tell you what’s the matter with me.’ She went and stood by the hearth, and from there, with her head resting almost on her shoulder, she said, ‘You were always for the big fellow, weren’t you?’

  Jenny’s heart seemed to stop and she muttered faintly, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Oh, you know what I mean all right. He could do no wrong in your eyes; even when I was left at the other end of the landing you thought it was no more than I deserved, now didn’t you?…I’d been a naughty girl.’

  Jenny drew in a long breath, partly of relief; then slowly and flatly, she said, ‘Look, Bett, I’ve tried for years not to take sides, you know I have. I’ve tried to be fair.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I know you have.’ Bett flicked her fingers in the air. ‘Oh, you’ve been fair…Yes, and all the time you’ve been blaming me for the way things were. I was the wrongdoer. Well now, listen to this…But perhaps’—she moved her head in a sweeping half-circle—‘it may not be news to you, you may even be in his confidence.’

  Jenny waited, moving one dry lip over the other; she stared at Bett and waited.

  ‘Is it news to you that he’s got a woman, that he’s been keeping a woman for years, is it?’

  The pain went through her like a red-hot blade; she even took a sharp shuddering breath from the impact.

  ‘Well, did you know?’

  Jenny made a slight movement with her head; then walking to a chair she sat down.

  ‘And you know who it is?’ Bett made a quick grab at another chair and, pulling it forward, sat on the edge and bent towards Jenny. ‘Ivy Tate.’

  ‘Ivy! You mean Ivy who was…?’

  ‘Yes, Ivy who was…Ivy who was working in my house for three years. What do you think of that? It must have been going on under my nose. I…I’—she squared her lips and showed her small white teeth clenched tight—‘I could kill him, I could throttle him. Ivy Tate, a common, cheap, sloppy looking individual, Ivy Tate. But then, when you come to think, would you expect him to choose higher than the likes of her? As I’ve said before and to his face, he’s got his scrap-iron, rag-gathering grandfather in him. Why do you think he wouldn’t go to the other end of the town and set up practice? Because he’s not at ease with civilised people, that’s why. Under the veneer of the doctor he’s more at home with the Bog’s End crowd, and the likes of Maggie Swan, his dear, dear Maggie. Well, I’ve told her where she can get off, too. She’s going, even before he does…Oh, I’ll see to that…Maggie! Maggie Swan…’

  ‘What…what proof have you?’ Jenny’s head was lowered now; her words were slow; she felt tired, weary. She also had an odd feeling of being naïve, even stupid. A big virile man like Paul. Of course he would have to have someone; all these years he would have to have someone. She hadn’t thought of it that way. Well, she was a nurse and she should have, shouldn’t she? She’d been a fool…all these years he’d been having a woman and yet he’d pushed her away.

  ‘Proof! I’ve got proof all right. Three times recently I’ve phoned the club to pass on a call, and each time they said he’d been left some time, and on each of these occasions there were no calls on the surgery board, and yet he never got in until eleven or later. I never thought much about it at first, then something that James said…’

  ‘Oh, James! If you’re going to believe James Knowles—’

  ‘Yes, I believe James Knowles. I’d believe him before I’d believe the big fellow. But that’s no matter; I can believe my own eyes, can’t I? You see, I’ve watched him, I’ve followed him. What James said was quite innocent. “Paul’s got a patient out of town,” he said, “Beckley way, up Moor Lane. I’ve seen him up that way a few times.” It was Moor Lane that struck a bell. I’d never been to Moor Lane, or Beckley, but I remembered Ivy Tate lived there and that he used to go visiting her husband. He attended him for over a year, and it was after that that he brought her to the house. Then he must have felt he’d better go careful. It was about the time that he thought of going in for the assistant physician’s post and he began to work like stink. So back home she goes supposedly to be married, and from then he visits her. She’s on his books—I looked her card up, but there’s not an ailment down there. So I watched him; I watched him three nights last week. I waited for his car to come out of the drive. They were cold nights but I wasn’t cold; it’s a wonder he didn’t see me glowing red. I tell you I could kill him.’ Her hands were like claws now grabbing at the air.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Jenny dully.

  ‘What am I going to do? I’m going to wait and watch the goose being cooked. I lit the fire this very morning. There’s one thing he wants more than anything in life, and that’s to get that hospital post. Well, I’ve put paid to that for him.’

  ‘No, no, Bett.’ Jenny bounced up. ‘You couldn’t do anything to harm him in that way.’

  ‘Can’t I? Can’t I? Just you wait and see.’

  ‘But what do you hope to gain? You’ll be cooking your own goose while you’re cooking his. Don’t you see? If he hasn’t got a practice and a house, what’s going to happen to you?’

  ‘Do you know he was offered twenty thousand pounds for the house by Pearsons? They want to put up another refrigeration plant. And then the town wants to extend the Technical School, so they’re playing against each other. He turned down Pearsons’ offer of twenty thousand for that rambling, freezing mausoleum. But he’ll reconsider now; oh, he’ll reconsider all right.’

  ‘But what is twenty thousand pounds if he hasn’t got a job, Bett?’

  ‘He won’t only have twenty thousand. He’s got ten thousand coming next year from a big insurance his father started for him. Then the old boy left him about fifteen thousand in shares which must have doubled by now. But it isn’t only the money I’m after. No, it’s to see him stripped, that’s what I want. I’ve promised myself for years I’d see him out of that damned house. I didn’t think I’d be able to get him out of the practice though, but after a divorce through another woman, and her a patient…Well. Not to mention years of cruelty…I picture him at nights standing before the medical council…God, with his big head you’d have thought he’d have had that much about him not to take up with a patient. Well, there’s one thing I know, he won’t be going to his dear Ivy tonight, I’ve made other arrangements for him.’

  ‘What kind of arrangements?’

  ‘Oh, you just wait and see, as I said.’

  ‘You’re mad, Bett. And what about Lorna in
all this?’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘How is she going to react?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know, Jenny, and I don’t care very much. That shocks you too, doesn’t it? She’s been on her high horse for weeks…’

  ‘…And you know why she’s been on her high horse, you know why, Bett?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Bett’s face had had a vicious look, and now of a sudden there was superimposed on it a look of fear.

  ‘You know what I mean, I don’t need to go into it. I don’t want to make you feel worse than you are now, but for God’s sake, Bett, why don’t you grow up?’

  Bett let out a long, slow breath; then getting up from the chair she took a step backwards before she spoke. ‘You know sometimes, Jenny, I hate you more than I do him. Do you know that?’

  Jenny shuddered; she shuddered not only at the statement and what it implied but at the tone in which it was said and at the look on her cousin’s face.

  Bett now turned from her, and as she went to the door she said, ‘I hope you have a nice holiday, Jenny. I don’t expect to see you at the house again, nor do I expect you to interfere in my affairs. And don’t think you can do anything to alter this situation, because the wheels are already in motion. I saw to that before I told you; I wanted you to have something to take away with you.’ She turned before she went out of the room and bounced her head once in Jenny’s direction, which gave emphasis to her last words. Then she banged the door after her.

  Jenny sat down again, groping at the chair as she did so. Dear, dear God. Bett was mad, mad with hate and frustration. What had she done? What was this thing she was going to do which would ruin Paul? She tried to think of all she had said. Platitudes, terrifying platitudes, such as: she had cooked his goose. But what actually had she done? She said she had made sure that he wouldn’t get the hospital post, but how had she gone about it? Had she told someone about Ivy, someone in the town who had power? Or was she only bluffing?…No. No, she wasn’t bluffing. And whoever she had told would spring it on Paul.