God, he was hot, sweating. What could he say? What could he do? Strangely, he knew what he had the desire to do, and it was scattering to the winds all his previous decisions, for at this moment he wanted to go behind that couch and put his arms about her, comfort her. Just that, comfort her. Nothing else, just comfort her. Then why wasn’t he doing it?
He was surprised to hear himself saying in a voice that sounded quite ordinary, ‘Come and sit down.’ He was holding his hand out to her, and slowly she put hers into it. Then he drew her round the head of the couch and on to its seat, and still with her hand in his he sat beside her, and as he looked at her an excitement rose in him. He seemed to be drawing it from her. Aye yes, that was the other word he wanted for what he felt for her, excitement. It was almost akin to the feeling he got when he was in a good game. He hadn’t been aware of it, but that was why he had liked to be in her company, liked to hear her talk; even when she was getting her sly digs in at him, she was exciting.
If she hadn’t been so tall and thin and plain what was happening now would likely have happened months ago. But now he realized that her thinking, her voice, her manner, the way she dressed, all the things she did were in a way a compensation for her looks. In fact, they formed a kind of cloak over them because there had been times lately when in her company that he had forgotten how she looked. He hadn’t realized this until now. Suddenly he felt at ease with her as he’d never done before. He knew he could talk to her now, aye and comfort her. He bent towards her and said, ‘Can I tell you something?’
Her eyes had a moisture in them when she answered, ‘I’m eager to hear whatever you have to say, Rory.’
‘It’s going to be difficult for me to put into words ’cos you see I haven’t your gift, your gift of the gab.’ He wagged the hand that was within his. ‘You know you’ve got the gift of the gab, don’t you? But there’s one thing, when you open your mouth something meaningful always comes out. That’s the difference between you an’ me . . . and the likes of me. But I . . . I want to tell you, I’ve been learnin’ these months past. There’s not a day gone by when I’ve been with you but I haven’t learned something from you. It mightn’t show, it still hasn’t covered up me aggressiveness.’ Again he shook her hand. ‘And I want to tell you something more. I’ve liked being with you . . . I mean, I do like being with you. You won’t believe this, but well, I . . . I find you sort of exciting, I’ve never known any other woman like you. Well, I wouldn’t, would I, not coming from my quarter? Mind, I must say at this point that Janie was a fine girl and I was happy with her. I’ve got to say that; you said a minute ago let’s be honest. Yet, at the same time, I’ve got to admit she wasn’t excitin’. Lovable aye, but not excitin’. Looking back, I see that Janie had little to teach me, only perhaps thoughtfulness for others; she could get really worked up over other people’s problems, you know, and after all, that’s no small thing, is it?’
‘No, it isn’t . . . Rory.’
‘Yes?’
‘What is the answer you’re giving me? I . . . I want to hear it in . . . in definite terms. You are being kind now but I don’t know whether it is merely to soothe me. I want to hear you say, “Yes, Charlotte,” or “No, Charlotte.” ’
Their hands were still joined, their knees almost touching, their faces not more than two feet apart, and he knew that if he said no, his life would in some way become empty, barren, and not only because he might no longer have admittance to this house.
‘. . . Yes . . . Charlotte.’
He watched her close her eyes. When she opened them they were bright; in any other face they would have been starry.
‘It’s a bargain.’
‘Aye, it’s a bargain.’
As he uttered the words he again had a vivid mental picture of the kitchen. He could see his dad, Ruth, her, and Jimmy, all staring at him, all saying, ‘What, her, Miss Kean! Never! . . . What about Janie?’
He said suddenly, ‘I’m not going to make any excuses about me people; I’m not going to hide them; you’ll have to meet them.’
‘I’ll be pleased to, very pleased to. I’ve never had any people of my own.’
He said suddenly on a laugh, ‘You know something? I’ll never make excuses to you, I’ll always tell you the truth. That’s a promise. It’ll likely not always please you . . .’
‘It won’t.’ She was pulling a long face at him now and her laughter was high, slightly out of control as she said, ‘It certainly won’t if you tell me you are going out gambling every night.’
When his eyes widened and his lips fell apart her laughter increased and she cried with the air of a young teasing girl, which lay awkwardly on her, ‘Didn’t I tell you I know most things about most people in this town?’
His face straight and his voice flat, he asked, ‘How did you know about that?’
‘Deduction, and the one word you kept repeating when you were in hospital. When I first saw you, you said again and again, “Pittie. Pittie. Pittie.” The second time I visited you you were still saying it.’
‘I was?’
‘Yes, and you know when a man gets beaten up as you were there’s nearly always something behind it. A footpad might have hit you on the head and knocked you senseless, but then I don’t think he would have kicked you within an inch of death’s door. After thinking about it, I realized you were telling everyone the name of your assailants, but no one seemed to be taking any notice, they thought you were saying, “lsn’t it a pity?” when what you were really doing was giving them the name of the men who attacked you, the Pittie brothers. The Pittie brothers are well-known scoundrels, besides being dirty gamblers. They were fined for gambling some short time ago.’
‘Huh! Huh!’ A smile was spreading over his face, widening his mouth. He now put his head back on his shoulder and laughed until his body shook, and she laughed with him.
His chest was heaving and he was still laughing when he looked into her face again and said, ‘I’ve thought it, but now I’ll say it, you’re a remarkable woman.’
‘Oh, please don’t judge my intelligence on the fact that I recognized something that should have been staring everyone in the face, the police into the bargain. Yet at the same time I don’t think the police were as stupid as they made out to be, but when they asked you had you seen the assailant or assailants, I was given to understand you said no, you had been attacked while walking down a side street.’
He screwed up his eyes at her now and, his face serious, he asked, ‘But . . . but how could you know that I gambled?’
She stared at him for a long moment before saying, and seriously now, ‘A short while ago you said you’d always tell me the truth. I understood, of course, that you were referring to the future, but now I’m going to ask you: Is there anything further you want to tell me, anything, about your past say?’
For a moment he wondered if she were referring to his birth. He stared into her eyes, then gulped in his throat as he thought, She can’t know about the other business, else I wouldn’t be here now.
‘Think hard before you answer.’
He felt the colour flooding his face again. They were staring into each other’s eyes. His body was sweating; it was as if he were having a nightmare in broad daylight. His voice was a gruff whisper when he said, ‘Well, knowin’ what you know, or think you know, why am I sitting here now?’
Her voice was equally low as she replied, ‘I’ll answer that in a moment when you answer my question.’
His gaze riveted on her, he pondered. If she didn’t know, if she wasn’t referring to John George’s business then what he was about to say would likely put the kibosh on her proposal. But if it was that she was hinting at, then indeed, aye, by God! indeed she was a remarkable woman.
He closed his eyes for a moment, lowered his head, and turned it to the side before he muttered, as if he were in the confessional box: ‘I took the five pounds that John George did time for. I went back that night and helped meself, but like him I expected
to be there first thing on the Monday morning to return it. If . . . if I had been there and you had caught me I would have stood me rap along of him, but by the time I knew what had happened I was sick and weak, and petrified at the thought of prison.’ His head still to the side, he jerked his neck out of his collar before going on, ‘I . . . . I have a fear on me, always have had since I was nailed down in a box as a child. I fear being shut in, I can’t stand being behind closed doors of any kind. I . . . I should have come forward, I know, but there it is, I didn’t . . . Is that what you want to know?’
There was a long pause and when she made no reply he looked at her again and said ‘You knew this all along?’
‘No, not from the beginning,’ she shook her head slowly. ‘But in the court I felt the man was speaking the truth and I recalled his amazement when I mentioned that not ten shillings but five pounds ten was missing. He was so astonished he couldn’t speak. But in any case, five pounds ten or ten shillings he had to be brought to book, for, as he admitted, he had been tampering with the books for some long time, and as he also admitted, not only for ten shillings at a time either.’
All this time their hands had been joined and he looked down on them as he asked quietly, ‘Why am I here now? Tell me that. Knowing all this about me, why am I here now?’
She now withdrew her hands from his and, rising to her feet, went towards the fire and once again looked at the picture above the mantelpiece. Then she wetted her lips twice and drew in a long breath before she said softly, I . . . I happen to care for you . . . This, of course, wipes out all my fine talk about friendship et cetera, but you see—’ again she wetted her lips—‘I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you in my father’s office. It was just like that, quickly, the most sudden thing in my life. I remember thinking, that’s the kind of man I would like to marry if it were possible. I knew it was a preposterous desire, quite hopeless, utterly hopeless. My father would never have countenanced it. Strangely, he didn’t like you. But then he liked so few people, and if I’d shown the slightest interest in you, even mentioned your name in a kindly fashion, he would have dismissed you.’
She turned and looked at him. ‘I’m a fraud, but I really did not intend that you should know this. I . . . I was going to acquire you under false pretences. But . . . but it makes no difference to the bargain. That can remain as it stands. But—’ she laughed self-consciously—‘so much for all my fine platonic talk. You know, Rory, the emotions are not measured in proportion to one’s looks: if that were so all the beauties in the world would be passionate lovers, but from what I have gauged from my reading they’re often very cold women. My . . . my emotions don’t match my looks, Rory, but as I said the bargain stands: you give me your friendship and protection as a husband, I will give you what . . . well, what I cannot help giving you.’
He rose from the couch and went slowly towards her, and he stared into her face before he said softly, ‘There must be a dozen men in this town who’d be only too glad to have married you, and would serve you better than I’ll ever be able to.’
‘Doubtless, doubtless.’ She nodded slowly at him. ‘But you see, and here we come to the question of truth again, they would have been marrying me for one thing, my money, and they would likely have been men with whom I couldn’t bargain. In their cases I would most assuredly have wished them to have their own apartments, but in their cases they would assuredly not have complied, for let us face the fact that most men’s needs do not require the stimulus of love . . .’
Slowly and firmly now he put his arms about her and drew her thin form towards him, and when he felt her taut body relax against him, and her head bury itself in his shoulder, he put his face into the dark coils of her hair and murmured, ‘Don’t. There, there, don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’ll . . . I’ll make you happy, Charlotte. I promise I’ll make you happy.’
He didn’t know how he was going to do it. The only thing he was sure of in this fantastic moment was that he’d have a damned good try.
2
He stood in the kitchen at the end of the long table, while they, like a combating force, stood at the other end, Ruth, his father, and Lizzie. Jimmy stood to the side towards the middle of the table, his face pale, anxious, his eyes darting between them like a troubled referee.
‘Well, you can say something, can’t you?’ His voice re-echoed through the timbers in the roof.
It was his father who spoke. Quietly he said, ‘Janie’s hardly cold.’
‘Janie’s been dead over a year, a year and three weeks to be exact.’
‘Huh! Well.’ Paddy broke away from the group and walked towards the fireplace and, picking up a clay pipe from the mantelpiece, he bent and tapped it on the hob, knocking out the doddle as he said, ‘You’re doin’ well for yersel, there’s that much to be said. Aye, aye. They used to say old Kean could buy Shields, that is the parts Cookson hadn’t bought up. Money grabbers, the lot of them I . . .’
‘It wasn’t the money . . .’
‘Well, begod! it couldn’t be her face.’
Rory swung round and glared at Lizzie. It looked for a moment as if he would spring down the table and strike her. Their eyes held across the distance before she snapped her gaze from his and, swinging round, went towards the scullery, muttering, ‘My God! My God! What next!’
The anger in him blinded him for a moment. Any other family in the town, any other family from here to Newcastle, would, he imagined, have fallen on his neck for making such a match, but not his family, aw no. In their ignorance they thought you must keep loyal to the dead, if not for ever, then for a decent period of years.
His vision clearing, he glared now at Ruth. She was usually the one to see both sides of everything, but she wasn’t seeing his side of this, there was a stricken look on her face. He put his hands on the table and leant towards her now as he cried, ‘You didn’t condemn her da, did you—’ he jerked his head back in the direction of the cottage next door—‘when he went off and lived with his woman in Jarrow after Gran died. He couldn’t wait. Six weeks, that’s all he stayed there alone, six weeks. But you said nothin’ about that. And I’m marrying her. Do you hear?’ He flashed a glance towards his father’s bent head. ‘I’m not taking her on the side. And one at a time’ll be enough for me.’
There was no sound in the kitchen. Paddy hadn’t moved, Ruth hadn’t moved, Lizzie hadn’t burst into the room from the scullery. He stood breathing deeply. Then looking at Jimmy, he yelled, ‘I came here, you know I came here to say that she wanted to meet them. My God! she didn’t know what she was askin’ . . . Well, it doesn’t matter. I know where I stand now; you’ll want me afore I’ll want you, the lot of you.’ And on this he turned round and marched out of the room.
Before the door had crashed closed Lizzie appeared in the kitchen. Paddy turned from the fireplace, and Ruth, putting her hand out towards Jimmy as if she were pushing him, said quickly and in a choked voice, ‘Go after him. Stay with him. Tell . . . tell him it’ll be all right.’
She was now pressing Jimmy towards the door. ‘Tell . . . tell him I understand, and . . . and shell be welcome. Tell him that, shell be welcome.’
Jimmy didn’t speak but, grabbing up his cap, he pulled it tight down on his head, then ran wobbling down the path and out of the gate, calling, ‘Rory! Rory!’
He was at the top of the bank before he caught up with Rory.
‘Aw, man, hold your hand a minute. It’s . . . it’s no use gettin’ in a paddy. I . . . I told you afore we come it would give them a gliff; it gave me a gliff, not only . . . not because of Janie, but . . .’
‘But what?’ Rory pulled up so suddenly that Jimmy went on a couple of steps before turning to him and looking up at him and saying fearlessly, ‘You want the truth? All right, you’ll get it. She’s different, older; plain, as Lizzie said, plain an’ . . .’
‘Aye, go on.’ Rory’s voice came from deep within his throat.
‘Well . . . All right then, I’ll say i
t, I will, I’ll say it, she’s a different class from you. You’ll . . . you’ll be like a fish out of water.’
Rory, his voice a tone quieter now, bent over Jimmy and said slowly, ‘Did you feel like a fish out of water last night when you met her?’
Jimmy tossed his head, blinked, then turned and walked on, Rory with him now, and after a moment, he answered, ‘No, ’cos . . . ’cos I felt she had set out to make me like her. But I won’t be livin’ with her.’ He now turned his head up to Rory. ‘That’s the difference, I won’t have to live her life and meet her kind of people. I won’t have to live up to her.’
‘And you think I can’t?’
Jimmy’s head swayed from one side to the other following the motion of his body, and he said, ‘Aye, just that.’
‘Thanks. Thanks very much.’
‘I . . . I didn’t mean it nasty, man, no more than they meant to be nasty.’
‘Huh! They didn’t mean to be nasty? My God! You must have ten skins. You were there, you were there, man, weren’t you?’
Jimmy didn’t answer for a while, and then he said quietly, ‘Me ma says she’ll be welcome; you can bring her and she’ll be welcome.’
‘Like hell I will! Take her up there among that bigoted tribe? Not on your bloody life. Well—’ he squared his shoulders and his step quickened and his arms swung wider—‘why should I worry me head, they’re the losers, they’ve potched themselves. I could have put them all on their feet, I could have set them all up, set them up for life.’ He cast a hard glance down now on Jimmy and demanded, ‘Do you know how much I’ll be worth when I marry her? Have you any idea? I’ll be a rich man, ’cos she’s rollin’, and I’ll be in control. Just think on that.’
The Gambling Man Page 21
