The Thursday Friend

by Catherine Cookson

What Hannah did before she left the house was to get in touch with the nursing home again and ask to speak to the sister. And of her she enquired where the funeral was to take place and to where one should send flowers . . .

  It was around half-past two in the afternoon and Hannah was sitting at one side of a small card table, David at the other. She was in the process of taking a lesson in the game of chess, and at this moment she was laughing, saying, ‘I’ll never get the hang of this; and why did you take that pawn when you told me I could just move up?’

  ‘But I didn’t tell you where you could move up to,’ David replied. ‘You left yourself open.’

  ‘Sir . . . madam.’ They both swung round, almost upsetting the ivory pieces, as Peter came rushing into the room. His sleeves were doubled up and he was wearing only a waistcoat over his shirt. ‘I’m sure it’s her, sir. I’m sure it’s her.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ David was on his feet.

  ‘Down the road, sir. I was putting the’ – he gulped – ‘the rubbish out in the yard, and there was a taxi stopped further down the street. Two men were on the pavement and they were handing a woman out of the car. It was her.’

  ‘Who? Who?’

  ‘Who else, sir? Carrie. Your wife.’

  ‘Dear God! no.’ David put his hand to his head, then said, ‘Pilly! I knew he would. I knew he would.’

  They both now turned towards Hannah. Then Peter, running past them, rushed into the bedroom, picked up the coat and bag from the bed and came flying out again, saying, ‘Come on! madam. Upstairs. Upstairs.’

  David was already pushing her towards the kitchen door, urging her: ‘Stay in the sitting room.’

  When Hannah reached Peter’s sitting room it was to see him agitatedly waiting for her. ‘Don’t lock the door,’ he said. ‘If she should come up here, then I’ll be with her. You can be reading a book or something, and I’ll say you are my cousin . . . even my daughter. Yes. Yes, I could say that.’ He gave a momentary grin, then said, ‘But don’t move about, or you’ll be heard downstairs.’

  When he was gone Hannah, still in a daze, went to sit down in what looked like a rocking chair but changed her mind. Instead, she sat on a chair that was placed between the door and the window, and waited.

  Downstairs, David had already cleared the chess table and had gone into the bedroom to see if there were any signs left of Hannah’s presence. Immediately he found evidence: her slippers under the end of the bed. He doubled them up and thrust them to the back of the top shelf of the wardrobe; then went into the bathroom. There, he whipped up a small bottle of perfume from the glass shelf above the washbasin, and lastly her dressing gown from behind the door. Once more he was scrambling to the wardrobe. The dressing gown could be hung on a hanger: it was of an indiscriminate colour, and could be taken for one of his; the perfume he thrust into the top drawer of the chest. Then he returned to the sitting room.

  Peter and he stood looking at each other in silence for a moment. As David was about to make a comment, the bell rang.

  It wasn’t until it rang a second time that Peter moved towards the door. When he opened it he was confronted by three people: two tall men and a very well-made woman who was of the same height as the men.

  ‘Good afternoon, Peter. You were about to say, “Good gracious!” weren’t you?’

  ‘No, madam.’

  ‘Is your master in?’

  ‘Yes; his master is in.’

  The voice had come from somewhere to the right of the door and neither she nor the men saw David until they were fully in the room; and it was with a loud exclamation that she cried, ‘Well! well! Davie-boy. After all this time. So this is where you’ve been hiding out. Well! well!’ She started towards him, then stopped and looked around her, and, flinging her arms wide, she said, ‘Almost arty-crafty. And you never liked art, did you now? Oh’ – she pointed to the wall – ‘that’s yours, isn’t it? That’s one of your roseate terns: you had them all over the bathroom at The Manor. I blacked them out with tar, you know, after you went. Didn’t I, Tony?’

  The tall fair man did not answer her, but, looking at David, he said quietly, ‘Hello, David.’

  ‘Hello, Tony.’

  Then the other man spoke: ‘Hello, David. How goes it?’

  ‘Very well, Max; very well. And with you?’

  ‘Oh, fine. Fine.’ The man smiled a pleasant smile as he said, ‘We had three winners in a week. Now wouldn’t you say that was well?’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’ David nodded at him. ‘Where was this?’

  ‘Two in France and one here; but our stable’s mostly in France now, you know, with Alex.’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ David nodded again. ‘I understood Alex was making his home over there.’

  ‘And it’ll be ours permanently when we get rid of The Manor.’

  ‘You’re selling, then?’

  ‘Yes, yes; if we can get the right price.’

  ‘And if I decide to leave.’ This came from Carrie. As she spoke she divided her glance between her brothers, and it was Tony who answered her, saying, ‘Well, it’s up to you. If you don’t come, you must stay here by yourself. Now don’t start again.’ He lifted his hand in warning to his sister. ‘We’ve come to say hello to David; we’re just passing through; so, please! woman.’

  ‘Can I offer you a drink?’ David now looked towards Peter, who was standing waiting as if for an order, and the men shook their heads. Tony said, ‘We’ve just had lunch; and we had an hour to spare. Pilly, you know, had told us where you’re hanging out.’ He laughed now as he added, ‘He’s well named as Lord Gap in the Gob, isn’t he?’

  ‘He didn’t tell us all, though.’ It was Carrie speaking again, and she was looking at David. ‘He just said you had a bachelor flat, and when I asked, “How much bachelor, Pilly?” his reply was to wink and say, “Aah! Aah!” And you know there’s never smoke without fire with anything that Pilly says, don’t you, David? So is it a bachelor flat?’

  ‘Now what d’you take David for, an ass?’ It was Max speaking again. ‘You, of all people, he’s likely to tell if he’s got a girlfriend? Don’t be stupid, woman.’

  It was obvious that, of the two brothers, this one had at least some control over his sister, because again she changed her tone as she said, ‘You were asking if we’d like a drink. Let them speak for themselves. I would, and I’ll have a whisky, Peter . . . large; well, you know my size, you should do.’

  ‘You’ll have nothing of the sort; and stop it! I warned you, didn’t I? Mind, I warned you.’ The man was shaking his finger at his sister, and then he turned to David, saying, ‘I’m sorry, Davie, but you know the pattern. You’ve been through it so often.’

  ‘Oh, you!’ The woman turned on her brother now, saying, ‘So understanding, so sympathetic, you know nothing.’

  ‘I know this much: you’re not having anything more except coffee or tea. Now that’s your choice, coffee or tea.’

  ‘Well, you know what you can do with your coffee or tea, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve a good idea, sister. Well, now—’ The man looked at his watch. ‘We have half an hour to get to the station; so if we want to get seats I think we’d better be going.’ He turned his attention back to David now: ‘We could have a meal together some time when we’re over this way, couldn’t we?’ he said.

  ‘Yes; yes, we could, Max.’

  ‘How many bedrooms have you?’

  Carrie was looking straight at David, and he said, ‘One.’

  ‘Oh, just one. Does your henchman live out, then?’

  ‘No; he doesn’t live out, he has a flat of his own upstairs.’

  ‘Oh, there’s another flat? Well! well! We’ll have to have a look round.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing.’

  ‘Who’s
to stop me, Tony?’

  ‘I for one, madam.’ It was Peter speaking; and they all turned to look at him. ‘That is my flat and it’s private property.’

  ‘I’d have thought it’s only private if you’ve bought it. It likely belongs to the house. Does it?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you could say it’s part of the house, but it’s also part of my salary, and my entitlement to privacy.’

  ‘Don’t talk to me like that, Peter. Who d’you think you’re speaking to? A yard man’s entitlement to privacy! That’s what you were, you were our yard man.’

  ‘I was never your yard man, madam. I was the yard man of the master of the house at that time, and it was only at the request of the master himself that I stayed on.’

  ‘Don’t you dare use that tone to me, Miller. Have you forgotten to whom you’re speaking?’

  ‘No, madam. Confronting you, I could never forget to whom I’m speaking.’

  ‘Tony! say something.’

  ‘What is there to say? You’ve said it all, as usual, sister. Now, come on. You promised to behave, but you just don’t know how to behave. I’m sorry, David. We would never have crashed in if it hadn’t been for . . . ’

  ‘Because we all wanted to know if you had a woman here. Didn’t we?’

  Carrie looked from one brother to the other. At this, Max bowed his head and muttered, ‘I still wonder why we bother, David. We’re both fools. We’ll find it out one day.’

  ‘How dare you! It’s you who gets me wild.’ She was now standing in front of her brother, her fist punching at his chest. Then, with the suddenness of lightning, her hand dropped away and she turned and, addressing David in a voice unlike any she had so far used and which didn’t seem to belong to her, she said, ‘Forgive me, David. I’m sorry, but they get on my nerves, the pair of them. If they would only leave me alone and let me go my own way. I’ve told you this before, haven’t I? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any upset.’

  She smiled at him now, but he didn’t return her smile; he just looked at her. Then she said, ‘Of course, we did think you might have a girlfriend, and they said, who’d blame you; but you know what I said?’ Like a child she thrust her face towards him. ‘I said to them what I said to you years ago: “All right! good for him. He can have as many girlfriends as he can manage, but once he mentions divorcing me, that’s going to be another kettle of fish.” Because, David, you remember what I promised you then, don’t you?’

  Still he didn’t answer, nor smile, and she was unsmiling now as she added, ‘I said I would shoot you if you ever approached me for a divorce. I wouldn’t let you divorce me, David. Till death us do part, definitely. Well, now.’ The sweet tone had returned. ‘We’d better be on our way. But we’ll look in again; perhaps you’ll have company next time.’

  As Peter went to open the door her arm shot past him with a force that almost overbalanced him, and she turned on him a look so full of disdain that he had to prevent himself from reacting to it and doing what he had wanted to do many a time: strike her.

  She opened the door herself and went out on to the grid, where she stood a moment looking about her. She hadn’t bidden David goodbye, but the two men had turned to him, and it was Max who said, ‘We really must be as mad as her to keep this up; but you know what the result would be otherwise, and we just still can’t bear the thought of that.’

  David’s voice was low as he said, ‘I can understand, but she doesn’t improve, does she?’

  ‘Improve?’ Max said. ‘Improve? It’s hell at times. Alex wants us to do what should have been done years ago, but we haven’t the heart; yet both doctors, Clark and Ainsworth, will section her at any time, because she’s becoming really unpredictable.’

  Their voices were low, but the woman called from the pavement, ‘Come along, boys; don’t tell tales out of school; I can hear you.’

  ‘Goodbye, David. Goodbye.’ They shook hands with him. Then Tony leant forward and called, ‘Sorry, Peter’; and Max, too, put his head round the door and muttered, ‘And me too, Peter, me too.’

  ‘I understand, sir. I understand. It’s all right.’

  ‘What about a taxi?’ David said.

  ‘Oh, we told the fellow to wait; he’s just round the corner. We knew we wouldn’t be able to stay long.’

  David followed the two men down the steps to the street; then, as he said later, he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Hannah coming round the corner. The men moved aside to let her pass, but Carrie remained where she was, eyeing this elegantly attired beauty with her mass of golden hair tied loosely at the back with a ribbon.

  The taxi had now drawn up beside them, and it was Max who looked at his brother and laughed as he said, ‘French, I’d say,’ and Tony, laughing back, said, ‘No, no, no! Italian.’

  Carrie’s remark, however, brought their attention back to her when she said, ‘Tart. Who does she think she is?’

  The brothers looked at each other. David said nothing, until his wife turned back to him and said, ‘Goodbye, Davie; but you know I have a feeling we’ll be together again before long. Yes; yes, I have.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bank on that, Carrie,’ David said flatly.

  ‘Why not? Why not?’ And, as her voice rose, Max gripped her by the shoulders, turned her about and pushed her into the taxi, saying, ‘Enough! Enough! we’ll miss that train. Goodbye, Davie.’

  ‘Goodbye, Max.’

  The last David saw of her was her face glaring at him through the taxi window. She’s madder than ever, he thought.

  David waited until the taxi had disappeared round the corner; then almost ran to catch up with Hannah.

  ‘What in the name of heaven has brought you out?’

  ‘I’ – she was gasping as if she had been running – ‘I thought she’d be coming upstairs. Somehow, I was afraid to meet her and I could imagine her thrusting Peter to one side; so I quickly put my jacket on and went down the back way, only to walk straight into you all.’

  ‘Well, I can only tell you that you caused some comment . . . whether your clothes came from France or Italy. They thought Italy.’

  She did not laugh, but said, ‘She . . . she’s very big, isn’t she?’

  ‘She is indeed big, almost as tall as her brothers; and, what’s more, even at ordinary times she has the strength of a man; but when she’s having one of her turns it’s taken all three brothers to hold her.’

  ‘I heard her voice.’ She shook her head as she stopped herself from saying, Why on earth did you marry her? That wouldn’t do; he had married her likely under persuasion from all sides. He had said as much.

  Back in the flat, Peter said, ‘Oh, madam, I thought I’d die when I saw you passing them outside. But I know why you went out, because she really could have forced her way up the stairs.’

  As David drew Hannah down on to the couch, he said, ‘I love this flat, but from now on I’ll feel uneasy, imagining she might drop in at any minute.’

  ‘Oh, I shouldn’t worry too much about that, sir; I think the boys will keep her in France; most of their stock seems to be over there already. Anyway, you wouldn’t get a place as suitable as this—’ and he added on a smile, ‘for both of us. I’ve got to like my little nest up above.’

  ‘There’s one thing for sure,’ said David, now nodding at Hannah; ‘she’ll recognise you if she ever sees you again, and if she were ever to find you in here . . . Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!’ – he shook his head – ‘It’s unthinkable what could happen. She told me to have as many girlfriends as I like but not to talk of divorce, or else. But were she to see you again she wouldn’t see you just as a girlfriend, a temporary pastime, as it were. Oh, no. So that has to be considered too.’ He looked up at Peter, and he, nodding, said, ‘Yes; perhaps you’re right. But not for the moment; and the moment could be weeks or months away. It’l
l be a while before they’re back this way again.’

  Yes, it could be weeks or months; or it could be tomorrow, Hannah thought; and to her emotions was added a wave of fear. The woman’s voice, as it had come to her upstairs, had spoken of a weird strength, and the first glimpse of her had created a fear, for she looked mannish.

  David broke in on her thoughts now, saying, ‘What are you for? Continuing the chess, going for a walk or just sitting here brooding on what’s going to happen on the lady’s next visit?’

  ‘I plump for the walk.’

  ‘Same here.’

  But no amount of walking would dispel the uneasiness that Hannah felt after that day’s visitors.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Humphrey was later than usual returning home on the Sunday evening; it was well after eleven. Hannah was already in bed and when she heard the knock on her door she drew in a tight breath before calling, ‘Yes? What is it?’

  ‘I want to talk to you.’

  ‘It’s late and I’m tired.’

  ‘I know it’s late, and I’m tired too. I’ve something to tell you: you either get up and come out or I come in.’

  She could tell by his tone that he was disturbed, and no wonder. She said, quite lightly, ‘I’ll be down in a few minutes.’

  She was adjusting her dressing gown collar as she entered the sitting room: her whole attitude appeared casual, and when he said, ‘I’ve news for you,’ she looked straight at him and said flatly, ‘Yes?’

  ‘My uncle has died.’

  ‘Oh. Oh, is that so? Well, that should make you happy; you’re halfway there, I mean, to your fortune.’

  ‘Shut up!’

  Now her tone did change: her back straightened, her head went up, and she said, ‘Don’t tell me to shut up, Humphrey Drayton, nor speak to me in that tone.’

  He flung round and made for the mantelpiece, and automatically adopted his usual stance. But this time both hands were gripping the edge as he muttered, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I’m in a bit of a stew.’