Rose Shaleman now looked at her younger son who was standing and gripping the back of his chair, the while muttering, 'I wish to God something would happen to him before I take it into me own hands,' and she said pleadingly, 'Bruce . . . Bruce, for my sake, don't traffic with him. Look; now that Mister Richard's back, before he returns to college or some such, university you said it was, well, get some running in with him.
He'd like that. He said so, didn't he? Get yourself up early in the morning. You always felt better when you ran first thing. It didn't seem to affect your day's work or the tramping that you had to do. For my sake, lad, try it.'
He turned to her now, saying softly, 'All right, all right; don't fash yourself; but brother Hal is a foul mouthed, dirty individual, and mean with it. Da's mean, but he can't hold a candle to Hal.'
'Yes, I know, I know. Anyway, it's strange how things work out: everybody gets their just deserts in the end.'
'Oh, don't be silly, Ma.' He turned away from her now. 'Are you getting your just deserts?'
'Yes, lad. Yes, if you only knew, I'm getting my just deserts.'
He looked hard at her, and when she returned the look without speaking, he seemed to fling his body around, and he too went from the room, and again the door was banged. Rose Shaleman lay back and closed her eyes tightly as she said, 'Yes, everybody gets their just deserts.'
The sun was shining, the sky was high, and there was a light breeze blowing; her heart, too, was light and she was ready to go down the hill. Jinnie was standing in the middle of the room, her print dress standing away from her thin body; her two plaits hanging down her back, were tied with tape close to her head to keep them in place and the tapered ends were turned upwards, each secured with a small piece of ribbon. Her straw hat was sitting straight on the top of her head; her eyes were bright, her face was smiling; she was looking at her mistress and saying, 'Thank you for the grapes, missis; I'll tell the ladies you sent them, and they're sure to be pleased.'
'Turn around.'
When she turned round she was facing Bruce, and he looked at her tenderly, saying, 'You look bonny and very smart.'
'When the tinker man comes round with his wares, you'll have to buy yourself a piece of long ribbon for your hair. It'd look better than that piece of tape at the top.'
She was again looking at the missis as she said, 'I'll do that, missis; yes, I'll do that.'
'Well now, get yourself away. And you say they're leaving about four? Well, you leave shortly after, and give the ladies my respects.'
'I will, missis, I will.'
As she passed Bruce, he said quietly, 'Enjoy yourself, girl,' and she said, 'Yes, mister, I will.'
'You know exactly where to go?'
'Well, it was that turning off just before we met you that day.'
'Yes, that's it; I know the cottage well.'
As she passed through the doorway Rose Shaleman's voice followed her, saying, 'Keep your stockings well up, girl; I think you need new garters.'
'Yes, missis. Yes, missis,' and she half turned her head to glance up at Bruce; and he exchanged a smile. And presently, as she walked away over the plain towards where it dropped quite steeply in three stages towards the road, she knew that he continued to watch her.
She had the desire to run, to skip and run; in fact, she did just that down the first hill. The second was covered with patches of scrub, and she had to walk carefully here to prevent her dress from being caught in the brambles.
She had almost reached the bottom when something did catch her dress, and not only her dress but her whole body, and she found herself being lifted from her feet and unable to scream. There was no knife to hand this time as she looked up into the infuriated face of Hal Shaleman. His nose was almost touching hers, a hand was tight across her mouth and his knee was across her thighs as he ground out into her face, ' For two pins I'd slit your throat this minute; I could, and no-one would know who had done it, for you wouldn't be found for a long time, and by then you'd be rotten, you little workhouse snipe, you! You know that you've changed that house up there, you know that? I never had much of a welcome; now I get none. My dear brother's for you, isn't he? Oh yes, yes.' Her quivering nostrils were drawing up his spirit-sodden breath. She knew whisky when she smelled it; many admissions got drunk on whisky before they came into the workhouse.
'Beautiful hair you have, lass, beautiful hair.' He was mimicking now. 'Well, we'll see who's got beautiful hair after I've used my knife.'
When the hand was released from her mouth, she was about to let out a high scream when she was thrust around and her face pressed into die earth; and then her whole being was screaming as she felt the knife going through a plait, right up close to her head. But then the sawing motion was checked by the sound of a dog's bark near at hand, and as the animal came bounding through the bushes Hal sprang to his feet; and the next minute she was alone, with the dog licking the side of her face.
Then in answer to a whistle, it bounded away again.
Slowly she pulled herself up on to her knees, and as she did so the plait fell from her shoulder and on to the grass. Grabbing it with both hands, she held it out from her, staring at it as if she were looking at an idol, and she might have been, for all she could say was, 'God. God.
Oh God. God, God.' Then she was running, the plait gripped in an outstretched hand as she cried aloud.
She reached the road; then, like a wounded animal, she flew along it until she came to the turning; and she couldn't have missed it, for there was the horse tethered to the grass verge and the cart near by; and further up, there was the cottage.
The Miss Duckworths were very refined maiden ladies, both in their late seventies. They had been gently bred, but had been deprived of love by socially conscious parents, and they each knew what they had lost, as did their niece, Miss Caplin, whose generosity had enabled them to live in this cottage, otherwise they might have found themselves under her care in the workhouse.
The cottage was small. It had a sitting-room, a bedroom, a kitchen and an outhouse and was the property of their niece. It was her salary that sustained them, for their father, like her own, had been so self-indulgent that both families had been ruined; and such were the circumstances of Miss Caplin's family that it was only the fact that this cottage had been left to her by her godmother that saved it from being classed as part of her father's estate. So, here they sat, the three of them, at the circular lace-covered table enjoying their after-dinner cup of coffee. Miss Isabel had made it and served it in tiny blue china cups. They were saucerless, being old china. Near the door, and seeming to dwarf them and the room and the cottage itself, sat Max. His coffee was in a mug, and to the side of the mug was a plate on which was a thin slice of cake, and as if he were a gentleman who had been fastidiously brought up, he sat breaking off small pieces of cake and placing them in his mouth, but never while he sipped the coffee.
There was a large smile on his face and every time he caught Miss Caplin's eye it seemed to widen. Then in a flash, as if by lightning, the whole atmosphere of the room changed, for there came a hammering on the door, and when Miss Caplin rushed to open it there fell into her arms her dear child, holding in one hand, of all things, one plait of her hair.
The two old ladies were on their feet, as was Max, all asking questions at once: 'What is it? What's happened?
Tell me, child. Tell me! This is an outrage. Your hair!
Your beautiful hair! Isabel, did you ever see anything like it?'
'No, Connie; no, I never did. Oh, what is it, child?'
Miss Caplin, her voice soft, now said, 'She'll tell us shortly, Aunt; she'll tell us shortly. Let us sit down, please.'
The old ladies turned and together pulled a basket chair towards Jinnie, still trembling from head to foot, and Miss Caplin, crouching in front of her, asked, 'Who did this, dear? Who did this?'
'Hal. Hal.'
'Was he the y-young man who met you?'
'No, no.' She looked up into the
dark, blank countenance of Max and said, 'No, not that one. No, Max, not that one. That's Bruce. He's nice, good. No, the brother.'
'Let me have your hair, dear. Come along and loosen your fingers, let me have your hair.'
Slowly Jinnie's grip slackened from around the plait, and Miss Caplin handed it to Max; then addressed Jinnie again:' Now tell me quietly what happened. Quiet now. Quiet;' then looking at her aunts, she said, 'Is there any more coffee left, Aunt Isabel?'
'Oh yes, dear, yes; yes a lot, a lot. Oh, of course. Of course.'
It was some minutes later, after having persuaded Jinnie to drink a full mug of coffee, that she said,
'Now, my dear, tell me what happened, right from the beginning. Stop trembling and hold my hand. Don't exaggerate, mind. You know what I mean, just tell us the plain facts.'
So, after a number of gulps and taking a long indrawn breath, Jinnie related the events that had transpired from her using the knife on Hal. Then, as if she were recalling an afterthought, she also told them about knocking Pug Shaleman off his stool. 'He was all right to me after that,'
she put in. 'He's not a nice man, though, not like Bruce.
Bruce is nice.' And Miss Caplin looked up to her aunts and explained, 'He is the young man who met Max, the one I told you about, and Max felt she would be safe in his keeping.' She now glanced to the side where Max was standing, the plait of her hair now wound round his wrist like a snake; but Max made no response; he just kept his eyes tight on Jinnie's face. And Miss Caplin said quietly, 'Am I to believe you actually stabbed the man with your knife, and that it had to be cauterised; I mean, actually burned with the poker?'
Jinnie nodded twice before she muttered, 'Well, he was handling me and he was going to do bad things.
And today he said he was going to slit my throat and bury me where I wouldn't be found until I was rotten.
It was, as I said, the dog who saved me.'
They were all startled now when Max cried to her,
'Come! Come!'
As he held out his hand Miss Caplin rose swiftly, saying, 'No, Max. No.'
'Y-y-yes, Miss Caplin. Oh y-y-yes, this . . . time, Miss Caplin. This time. Come!'
When Jinnie obediently slipped from the chair, Miss Caplin delayed her while addressing Max again, saying,
'Now, Max, please; you mustn't lose your temper. You know that it will spoil everything; you'll never be allowed out again.'
It would seem impossible for the man to grow any taller, but his head seemed to pull up from his huge shoulders, and he looked down on Miss Caplin and said, 'Not tied. Not tied, Miss Caplin. Not mental.'
Miss Caplin bowed her head and closed her eyes for a moment as she muttered. 'I know that you're not registered mental, Max, but you were found to be unable to look after yourself and . . .'
'Look after myself? Well . . . well, Miss . . . Miss Caplin. Oh yes, c-c-can work on farm. Been . . .
been' - he now thumped his forehead with his fingers
- 'thinking - yes, thinking - tired of workhouse.'
Miss Caplin pushed Jinnie to one side and stood in front of Max, saying, 'If you do anything bad, Max, you will be held in there for life; and perhaps not only in the workhouse. You understand? Killing someone isn't going to . . .'
Max's eyebrows moved upwards and his mouth opened wider; then he said, 'Not k-k-kill; no, not kill
. . . j-j-just give him a lesson.'
'Well, it all depends upon what you mean by giving him a lesson; you're a very strong man, you know, Max.'
'Yes, I know. Good; yes, good. Come,' he said, and gently thrusting Miss Caplin aside took Jinnie's hand and pulled her forward. Then looking at the three helpless ladies, he said, 'Be back. F-f-fetch her back soon ...
soon.'
'Where do you expect to find him?'
'Don't. . . know. Try house. Not there, b-b-bring her back; then ... then try inns myself,' and he thumped his chest, repeating, 'Myself... I go round t-till I find him.
Come.'
As he pulled Jinnie forward, she cast a glance at Miss Caplin and said by way of comfort, 'He'll be all right.
He'll be all right.'
Some way along the road, Max said to her, 'Up the hill?'
'Yes, Max.'
They had reached the second rise when he stopped his long striding suddenly and, looking down on her, said, 'Tired?' and she lied quietly, saying, 'No, Max.'
Nevertheless, he stooped and lifted her up and carried her until they reached the plain, and there he put her down and they both gazed towards the speck of huddled buildings in the distance .
In the kitchen, Rose Shaleman was resting on her elbow and looking towards the ladder leading to the loft, she turned her head to Pug, who was standing by the table: 'What's his hurry now?' and Pug replied,
'Only he knows, but he's certainly got a reason.'
Her voice still low, she addressed Bruce: 'What d'you think?'
'Couldn't say, Ma, couldn't say, only something's happened.'
'Sam Valasquey after him?'
'Could be. I'm told he didn't sign on the boat yesterday,'
Bruce said and his father nodded, and Bruce asked his mother, 'Are you going to give him anything?'
Before she could answer, his father said, 'No, begod!
she's not.'
'He's due a bit.' Bruce's voice was low.
'He's due nowt, and that's what he's getting . . .' Pug stopped abruptly when Hal appeared on the ladder, from where he dropped a canvas bag on to the floor, followed by an overcoat. In the room, he stood buttoning up his short jacket and saying, 'Well, what about it, Ma? I've got to be off.'
When she did not answer, he demanded, 'Come on!
Come on! There's quite a bit of mine under your tick, and you know it.'
'Well, whatever's under that tick, lad, stays there.
You've had all you're getting out of this house.'
'My God!' Hal glared at his father. 'What have I ever got out of you, you undersized little squirt of a man?
I've never even had a civil word from you, as a bairn or a lad, or a man. You've got a lot to answer for, you selfish, misshapen little bugger that you are.'
'Enough of that!' This had come from Bruce, and Hal turned on him, crying, 'You've had it easy, lad, you know nothing about it. You weren't pushed into the mine before you could hardly crawl just to keep his belly full and her nursing herself. You've always nursed yourself, haven't you, Ma?'
The look that Rose Shaleman cast on her son was sad, but nevertheless she confirmed what he said: 'Yes, Hal, I've always nursed meself because I've had to.'
' Had to, begod! Laziness. Other women have dropped dead working, but not you . . . nor you!' And he jerked round to his father now. 'If you hadn't got him' he was now thumbing towards Bruce - 'you'd be in the workhouse. And he's staying here only because of her,' and he nodded towards his mother. 'You telling me what's mine and what's not mine, you've never earned a penny in your life. You're like your people before you. I didn't know them but the whole village did, and I've heard of them and had them cast up to me, and I've worked twice as hard as any other man in that bloody hell hole, aye, and drank twice as much as any other man, and whored to prove myself. Well, I'm going now, and I don't know when I'll see you ever again, any of you, but before I step out of this pigsty I want me share, and I want it now, quick!'
At this he straddled a chair, and it was just as Rose Shaleman was about to beckon to Bruce to see to his brother that the door was kicked open and so startled all of them that they gasped audibly, for there stood the biggest man any of them had ever seen. He was filling the doorway, but more than that he had to bend his head well in front of his shoulders before he could enter the room, pressing the bedraggled and weeping Jinnie before him.
'In the name of God! what's this? What's this?' Rose Shaleman cried.
The only answer they heard was the man saying to Jinnie, 'Wh . . . which one did it, Jinnie? Whwhwhich one?' Her finger trembling, she pointed
to the man straddling the chair with his mouth now agape and his eyes wide with fear, which he was experiencing for the first time in his life as he watched the great fellow unwind the plait of hair from his wrist.
Max turned Jinnie about, then held up the plait to the nape of her neck, telling his gaping audience, 'He
... he did this. Was . . . was going to k-k-kill her an'
all, he was; but first he ... he did this.'
'God in heaven!' It was a whimper from the bed.
'Oh, you didn't! You didn't! And oh! dear, look at the sight of her.' Then, 'Dear God!' the woman screamed as the big man lifted Hal bodily from the chair and shook him as a dog might a rat.
'Stop him! Stop him!' Hal, too, was screaming; but neither Pug nor Bruce moved as they watched the man bring a crashing blow across Hal's face, and when his head swung from side to side as if it would roll off his body there was a combined intake of breath in the room like air being drawn through teeth. Then, to their fear-filled amazement they saw the big man reach up to one of the hooks fixed in the ceiling and lift down the ham that was hanging from it.
Next, Max ripped the buttons off the coat that Hal had fastened a few minutes earlier, then unbuckled Hal's belt and fastened it tighter, making him gasp, and held him head high, slipping the back of the belt over the hook, and there left him hanging and screaming, flailing his arms and legs.
"Th-th-that's it, scream. This .. . this child screamed.
She . . . she rushed in screaming' - he was now deliberately addressing the woman in the bed - 'bebebeside herself, beautiful hair gone.' And he picked up the plait of hair from where he had dropped it on the table, turned to Jinnie who was standing pressed against the stanchion of the open door and said, 'Knife . . . where's knife?'
'Please! please! Max, don't. Don't. No! please. 'Tis all right now. 'Tis all right. It will grow. 'Tis all right.'
'Do no harm . . . j-just knife.'
She stared at him a moment longer, then she pointed to the drawer in the table; and from it he took out the large gully which was used for cutting the bread and the meat. Then, holding the plait again on the table, he cut off about an inch from the thick end, and as it spread he gathered it up in his fist and, reaching up, rammed it into Hal's gaping mouth.
The Tinker's Girl Page 9
