She felt down the length of her dress, hoping to discover a pocket with a handkerchief. Then, when he held his out to her, she grabbed it and wiped her face quite roughly all over; and she did not return the handkerchief to him, but kept it in her joined hands, saying, ‘Oh, David! I’m all mixed up.’
‘I know that; I know that; and I know I’m the cause of it, but I must admit that I’m happy that I am. You know, I cannot take it in that we met only last Thursday; it seems that you’ve been in my mind for years. Your face, your manner, your voice, everything about you; and in this short time you seem to have emerged like a butterfly from its chrysalis; you become more beautiful though more fragile, more susceptible to hurt. Yet all the while I feel you’re opening your eyes to love. Yes, I’ve had to say that, because, like a butterfly, you seem to have come to a resting stage to let your wings dry off in the sun; and once they’ve dried you’ll give yourself over to life and living.’
She was staring into his face, thinking, Those words! all fanciful; yet . . . yet I know what he means, and I am, I’m coming alive. I know it, I know it; but what’s going to happen when, like that butterfly’s, my wings have dried? What about Humphrey?
She forced herself to get there before the voice, and she cried at it, Well! if I’m always where he expects me to be at a certain time, then things will go on as they are, at least between us, but . . . but not with this man here. Oh no, no! When the butterfly’s wings are really dry, things will happen. It’s inevitable. But . . . Fancy thinking along those lines!
Well, why not? Why not think along those lines? . . . she knew where the lines were leading, didn’t she? And oh, how she longed that they would soon come together.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing. Nothing.’ She rubbed her hand across her chest. ‘I had too much to eat; I always do when I come here. A slight touch of indigestion. Would you like some tea?’
‘Did you have meat for lunch?’
‘We did; sirloin.’
‘And you’re going to drink tea? All right, if you can drink tea, I can drink tea.’
‘Did you have meat?’
‘Yes, roast lamb. And that’s meat, but not as heavy as sirloin, so I’m sure my delicate stomach will accept a cup of tea and gladly. Shall I help you make it?’
He was about to rise from the couch when she pushed him back, saying, ‘No! Please stay where you are. If I’m not mistaken you’ll be having two other visitors shortly, because I can hear John’s voice. Then there’s Claire: she’s been watching television. She’s four and a bit, but takes after her eldest sister and always wants to know the reason why, so prepare yourself if she comes in.’
David lay back on the couch and looked about him. Everything in the room reminded him of the high-street shop window. All the bits and pieces were modern, some the worse for wear, such as the couch he was sitting on. The accompanying armchairs and the other odd pieces of furniture set tight against the wall, mostly for safety’s sake, he imagined: the sideboard and drinks cupboard; the cabinet that suggested it was a radiogram. And yet everything appeared very clean: polished where polish was needed, and the soft grey silk-ridged curtains framing the windows looked fresh; indeed, the room said a lot for someone with four children.
When the door opened he pulled himself up from his sitting position, expecting to see the children, but when he saw it was the head of the household who was vigorously rubbing his wet head with a towel he rose to his feet, saying awkwardly, ‘Hannah’s gone to make tea.’
‘Oh, that’s good. That’s good. Sit yourself down; no need to stand on ceremony here.’
‘I’m glad to hear that.’
Eddie stopped his rubbing and peered over the edge of the towel at the visitor. He did not know quite how to take that remark, so he gave no answering quip, but said, ‘Tell me, is it a fact that you’ve only known Hannah since last Thursday?’
‘Yes; it’s a fact, but I can’t believe it either.’
‘I understand you’re married but parted.’
‘Yes; that’s right too.’
‘I’m not just quizzing you out of curiosity, you know; we’re very fond of Hannah. My wife’s only four years older than her but at times you’d think she was her mother, the way she worries over her.’
‘Has there been need to worry over her?’
For a moment Eddie said nothing, but, taking a comb from his hip pocket, he began to comb his hair. Parting it at the side, he drew the thick wet mass across his head and away from his brow; then, folding up the wet towel neatly, he laid it over the arm of the chair before answering, ‘The answer to that is yes and no. First, no, because there was no need to worry over anything untoward that Hannah had done in her life, except perhaps that she had been stupid enough to marry a stuffed shirt, and that on the rebound, because their father, a widower, was about to take on another wife. Hannah had been housekeeper enough to both her mother and him, expecting she would be there for the rest of her life, but one thing she wasn’t going to do was to take on a stepmother. So she goes and marries the first man who proposes to her. At least, that’s how I see it: any port in the storm, if you know what I mean. But, on the other hand, she won’t have a word said against him. Well, not really. She keeps saying he’s kind. But why is he kind and hurtful at the same time? Marriage, as you know, is a two-way business, give and take; from the bed to the breakfast, and from there to Horlicks or cocoa last thing.
‘I’m going to ask you something. I suppose I shouldn’t, you’ll say it’s none of my damn business, but, as I’ve just pointed out to you, we are her nearest and dearest, so to speak. I’d like a straight answer to my question and I’ll know if I’m getting one or not. I’ve been about a bit; like your friend Micky McClean, I know the ropes.’ He grinned at David, but David was looking him straight in the face, for he knew what was coming. ‘What I’m asking is, is this just a passing fancy? You look the kind of bloke who could pick up anybody anywhere, and you’ve got the style and that, and likely she’s already fallen for it, but I want to know how you feel. All right, you’re married and you’ve been separated for a long time. I don’t know anything about that part of it, the whys or the wherefores. But I want to know if this is an ups-a-daisy: We’ve had some fun, no hard feelings, eh? You know the line; it’s done every day; and if the girl’s unlucky there’s a bun in the oven. Now you needn’t bother getting up.’ He put his hand out and flapped it slowly towards David’s face. ‘If that happened to her, she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on, ’cos she couldn’t stick it on him, if you see what I mean.’
David’s mouth was slightly open and his eyes were wide. What he said now, and softly, was, ‘No, I don’t know what you mean; but I’ll come back to that. However, first let me tell you, for my part this is not what you call an ups-a-daisy. I’ve never felt for anyone as I do for Hannah, and I can’t understand it.’ His voice was harsh now and he stressed each word. ‘And I can’t say I’m happy about it, but since I saw her last Thursday morning, as I’ve told you, I can’t get her out of my mind. She seems to have always been there, somebody I’ve been looking for but just missed on the way, and now I’ve found her I don’t want to let her go. That’s why I risked pushing myself into your family today, otherwise I would have had to wait till Thursday, if then, in order to see her. I felt I just couldn’t wait, so there you have my answer. And there’s a faint hope in me that she feels the same way, but won’t own up to it yet. This kind Humphrey whom she has on her mind all the time . . . dear kind Humphrey. I’ve never met the fellow, but I hate him already. Now I’ve answered your question, would you mind explaining what you meant just then?’
‘What d’you mean? explain it. I thought I’d made it plain enough.’
‘You said that if she . . . ’ he couldn’t bring himself to say ‘had a bun in the oven’, instead he said, ‘found herself pregnant, she couldn’t
blame it on her husband. What did you mean by that? Is he a . . . ’
‘Well, I’m talking out of turn here, but . . . I’ll tell you because I have a feeling I can trust you. As far as I can get out of my wife, somewhere along the line Hannah had an allergy, and whether he took that as an excuse to have a separate room or was really afraid of catching something from her, I’ll never know, and she’ll never know and she won’t ask, but from—’
‘Dear God!’
‘What did you say?’
Leaning forward, David put his elbows on his knees, then covered his face with his hands for a moment before looking up at Eddie again and saying, ‘I merely said Dear God!’
‘Yes, well, that statement covers a lot of things, it saves a body saying what they really think. But I know what you’re thinking at this minute – and another thing that’s just struck me is if my wife knew I was talking to you about Hannah like this she’d brain me. At least she’d have a damn good try, ’cos what she told me was after Hannah had come to her in dire trouble and told her.’
Of a sudden, Eddie dropped on to the couch, and, looking towards the tall fellow who was still sitting with his elbows on his knees, his head bent down, he said, ‘I bet when you were coming along here today you didn’t know what your reception would be, either from her or from us. Knowing I was once a pal of Micky McClean, you wouldn’t have been expecting someone with an Oxford accent, although at the same time you wouldn’t have thought that your eyes would have been opened so wide, would you?’
David straightened up and drew in a long breath; then turning to Eddie he said, ‘You’re right. You’re right. But I can tell you one thing: I’m very glad I came. I knew I was presuming, but I couldn’t help myself, and I see now it had to be like this because she would never have told me anything about her personal life. How long has she been married?’
Eddie thought a moment, then said, ‘Oh, four years. Yes, it’ll be four years. She’s twenty-nine.’
David nodded, saying, ‘Yes. Yes, I think she mentioned it somewhere. Four years.’ He shook his head, then again repeated, ‘Four years. No wonder she had that look on her face.’
‘What look?’ Eddie was sitting up, attentive again.
‘Oh, when she came into the office, Mr Gillyman’s place, you know, with the manuscript of her book that he wants to publish, she had the most odd look about her, like someone walking in a dream. Her clothes seemed to be moving but not she herself. Then for a moment I changed my opinion when I realised she had a sharp wit; and Gilly, that’s Mr Gillyman, and his wife, they both felt there was something about her. Natasha put a name to it, “lost”, and I recall I added “hurt”, and that’s right, don’t you think? She’s been lost for a long time and hurt too.’
‘You’re right there, mate. Yes, you’re right there. By the way, what’s your name again?’
‘David.’
‘Well, I’ll call you that, eh?’
‘Please do. And yours I know is Eddie.’ They smiled faintly at each other now and nodded; then Eddie, bouncing up from the couch, exclaimed, ‘Where’s that bloody . . . excuse me, David! it’s just a habit, tea. She’s had time to go to the tea gardens and pick the stuff.’
‘Shut up! I can hear you. Open the door!’
When Eddie pulled the door open there was Hannah, her arms spread wide, holding a large wooden tray on which was tea, set for the three of them.
David had followed Eddie to the door and was looking at the two children, Maggie carrying a cake stand holding slices of bread and butter and a large cake, and Winnie carrying a small tray on which there was a glass dish full of jam.
David saw that Maggie was determined to make her entry into the room, but the younger girl, looking up at him and handing him the tray, said, ‘Be careful, it’s runny. It’s home-made, but me mam didn’t boil it enough. She never does.’
The voice from the sitting room was loud: ‘Winnie! Get upstairs and stay with your mother. Has she got her tea?’
‘She’s got everything she requires. It’s been seen to.’ Maggie was answering her father, although she was looking at David, and he, smiling at her, went as far as to give her a wink, at which she spluttered and almost upset the cake stand; and when her father said, ‘What’s up with you, girl?’ she answered, ‘Well, he winked at me.’
‘What!’
‘He did, Dad.’
‘Are you going to the party or not?’ Hannah’s voice had no laughter in it. ‘If you’re not outside that door within the next minute there’ll be no party for you. And what’s more, I’ve had enough of you for one day.’
The girls gone, and none too quietly, as Maggie had made a point of banging the door, Eddie now turned to Hannah, saying, ‘That girl needs taking in hand. I’ll have to see to it.’
David enjoyed his tea. He talked quite a lot, mostly to Eddie and about Peter. Eddie was now saying, ‘Well, I think you’re damn lucky,’ and David replied, ‘Nobody knows that better than I do.’
Turning to Hannah, Eddie said, ‘I don’t know what you’ve got in mind to do, missis, but I know what I’ve got in mind for you to do. I’m going to take this lot in the kitchen and start the washing-up and you’re going to take our friend here upstairs and introduce him to my wife.’
‘Oh, no. You know what Janie said.’
‘Yes, I know, she’d give me hell if I did any such thing. But what I also know about her is that she’d give me hell if I didn’t, and this might be the only chance she has of meeting him.’ He turned to David and said, ‘I’m not giving you a permanent invitation to pop in here every Sunday, ’cos as far as I can see you’ll cause havoc among my family, and I think one lot of havoc is enough for you to deal with. What d’you say?’
‘Oh, on that point I think I’ll leave it to your wife. If she invites me to lunch on a Sunday, well, then, I don’t suppose there’s anything you can do about it.’
‘I’ll be buggered! Here’s another one can get away with murder.’ At this he picked up the tea tray and marched out, saying, ‘You, Hannah, leave those where they are and do as I tell you.’
And to this Hannah answered him sweetly, ‘Yes, brother-in-law. Anything to make you happy.’
‘I can see why you like to come here at weekends,’ David said; ‘it really is a home.’
‘Oh,’ said Hannah, ‘you can say that again. You haven’t been here when they’re rowing: when Janie’s not going to stand any more and when he’s going to emigrate to Australia. Well, come on, let’s get it over with. There’ll be high jinks after you’ve gone, I know that.’
On the landing she tapped on Janie’s bedroom door and called, ‘Can we come in?’
‘No, you may not.’
She opened the door and said, ‘Thank you, sister.’ Then she beckoned David into the room, and there he was looking down on the supine figure of the Cockney lad’s convent-bred wife. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Harper. I’m sorry to see you laid low.’
Janie stared up at him, and what she said, and in a quite refined voice, was, ‘It isn’t fair. I hate to be taken at a disadvantage.’
Hannah turned away and looked towards the window. Oh dear, dear . . . this was Sister Veronica speaking on one of her do-or-don’t mornings: ‘You chew on your words with your teeth and spit them out through pursed lips. Each word you utter is born in your brain. It should be special, whether it is to be used in praise or reprimand or merely ordinary conversation about the weather. It should begin, as I have told you, at the back of your mouth, and, no! Janette Baker, we are not going to say, The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain – I can see your lips already mouthing this well-worn saying. Instead, you will say, I am here to learn how to speak the English language correctly, and Sister Veronica is going to see that I do so, if she has to keep the whole class in for a half hour later this afternoon, which means that hockey
will be off.’
Hannah turned towards the bed. Dear! dear! One thing was sure, Mrs Harper was doing Sister Veronica proud.
‘Hannah tells me you deal in books; a great number and variety of them, so I understand.’
‘Yes, you could say that, Mrs Harper, a great number and variety of them. I think there must be at least three thousand in the rooms under my flat, and that’s only one store room. My employer, Mr Gillyman, is what you would call a fanatic where books are concerned.’
‘It must be an interesting position.’
‘I don’t know about interesting, but I can tell you it’s very dusty and thirst-making, besides time-consuming and back-breaking, because my employer goes to as many sales as time allows. He might just go for one particular book but that book might be part of a lot of fifty or a hundred.’
‘I used to read a lot at one time, when there was time, of course,’ Janie said. ‘I remember I was well into Hugh Walpole and the Herries series when I left school.’
‘Oh, yes, the Herries series. He was given a title, wasn’t he?’
‘Oh, was he?’
‘Yes; I don’t know whether it was for his writing or not, but he wrote some smashing tales.’
Hannah was thinking: Hugh Walpole and the Herries series; she doubted if David had ever read such romantic books as those. Oh, she’d have to get out of the room, because if Janie kept this up she’d surely burst out laughing. And yet it was her true self Janie was showing, so why should she laugh?
Looking at David as she moved towards the door, she said, ‘I’ll leave you to find your way downstairs; I must go and see why the younger members of the tribe are so quiet.’
The Thursday Friend Page 12
