by Stan Mason
‘No, Ivan, no!’ she cried out, trying to shift from under him but he cared not to listen and ploughed himself into her body causing her a great deal of pain. Long afterwards, when he had fallen asleep, she lay on her back staring at the ceiling. He was extremely unfair but so was life and she had no alternative but to take the rough with the smooth if she wanted to keep him, Rising painfully, she stared at the bruises on her body and covered her shoulders with an old dressing-gown. Then she walked into the front room and sat in an armchair sobbing her heart out. There was no real happiness for her, that was for sure... at least not in this life!
***
When it was light, Ivan awoke to find himself alone in bed. He pulled aside the covers and leapt out of bed. Elsie had fallen asleep in the armchair in the front room, he head resting on her arms. The Russian shook her gently by the shoulder and caressed her lovingly.
‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised, ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know what got into me.’
She stared at him tiredly and forgave him in an instant, accepting his humility as punishment enough. Glancing at the clock, she leapt from the armchair in horror. ‘Goodness!’ she exclaimed, with all thoughts of the past evening expunged from her mind. ‘I’ll be late for work!’
He followed her into the bedroom and watched her dress but she was far too involved in getting to work to pay him any attention. She managed to find time to light a cigarette and rested it on the edge of the well-worn dresses.
‘Why don’t you go to the Employment Exchange and find yourself a job,’ she suggested. ‘I pressed the suit yesterday.’
He hated wearing a dead man’s clothes and stared at Elsie dumbly. She was leaning against the bed with her legs wide open, fastening her stockings to a suspender belt. From her mouth hung the burning length of a cigarette and, as she sniffed long and loudly, he became filled with revulsion. Unable to stand the sight of her any longer, he turned away and went into the kitchen Why couldn’t she be as clean, fresh and new as Anna. At the same time, why couldn’t Anna be as submissive, experienced and accommodating as Elsie. If only the two women could be merged together he would be able to get the best of both of them. But then such idle thoughts were merely wanton dreams!
An hour later, after he had taken the boy to school, he wandered into an Employment Exchange to face a young female clerk filing forms at the main desk.
‘I want a job!’ he blurted bluntly.
‘Normal occupation?’ came the question..
‘Student engineer. I need work.’
‘Where have you been studying?’
‘Minsk!’
The clerk’s head shot up to stare at him. ‘Minsk... like in Russia?’
‘I don’t know of a Minsk anywhere else.’
‘I see,’ returned the woman mildly, pretending that she was dealing with a routine case. ‘I have a company which needs a general hand.’
‘What does a general hand do?’ asked Ivan bleakly.
‘Oh, all kinds of things... you know.’
‘No... I don’t know.’
The female clerk started to become impatient. ‘Look... fill in this card with your name, address and qualifications. Then I’ll fill you in with the details so that you can report for duty.’
The Russian took the card reluctantly. ‘Report for duty!’ he repeated uncertainly. ‘Has this got anything to do with military operations?’
The clerk burst into laughter and turned away to relate the joke to one of her colleagues. Ivan failed to be amused however and he threw the card back across the desk in contempt. It was depressing having to ask for work and even worse to be humiliated.
He walked out in a temper and caught a bus without for its destination. Alighting at random, he entered a café to calm down and collect his thoughts. The clerk at the Employment Exchange had insulted him. Such action was inexcusable! He order a cup of coffee at the counter and sat at a table close to where two men were in deep discussion. Pretending that his attention was fixed elsewhere, he eavesdropped, listening to their conversation as best he could.
Wesley Morris was one of the men. He pulled open his tatty fur coat as the heat of the room caused him to feel discomfort.
‘I came to you, Mr. James, because you’re highly recommended as a first-rate mining consultant. To be honest, I’m a little out of my depth. I’ve never bought a mine before.’
James looked at him coldly. ‘I have an office, Mr Morris. ‘You’d be best advised to make a proper appointment. I don’t interview prospective clients in cafes.’
‘I appreciate that but your secretary told me you’d be here.’
‘I came here to get away from the office,’ stated James angrily.
Morris turned away to look out of the window for a moment in frustration before making another attempt to break through.
‘Look... the finance is there. Everything’s set. What I need is a consultant to check the state of the mine. I mean it may be flooded beyond repair. The vendors say it’s not too bad but they would say that because they want to sell it.’
The consultant shrugged his shoulders aimlessly. ‘Why do you want to buy the mine if you’re no idea what you’re doing?
‘I have aspirations and plans, but I need your help.’
‘Not interested, Mr. Morris. I don’t like your attitude, your discourtesy or the way you present yourself. Take your business elsewhere.’
His words failed to have any effect on Morris who continued to press the consultant. ‘It’s a fantastic mine... ‘
‘Not interested!’ interrupted James forcefully. ‘Now will you kindly leave me in peace!’
This time the fat man sat back in his chair in despair. He swallowed a mouthful of tea and remained silent for a while. ‘I’m beginning to wonder whether it’s all worth it,’ he uttered eventually without gaining any sympathy from the other man. ‘Perhaps I’m living in a fool’s paradise. But when I heard that Botallack was thee for the taking... ‘
‘Botallack!’ The consultant’s head shot up as his attention became riveted to the fat man. ‘Did you say Botallack?’
Morris was surprised at the reaction. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s the mine I want to buy.’ Silence prevailed before the fat man pressed home his advantage. ‘You know about it then.’
‘I didn’t know it was up for sale.’
‘It’s not but I have an option on it. What do you know about the mine?’
‘That’s a good question, Mr. Morris,’ responded the mining consultant with a tinge of excitement in his voice. My great, great, great grandfather rescued it in 1835. The documents identify the name of Stephen Harvey James. He lived with his family close to the mine and when he heard they were going to ‘knock’ it, he offered to buy the sett. He rode off at once to Edward, the First Earl of Falmouth, to get the purchase ratified because he believed that the vendors might withdraw from the agreement after giving it more consideration. I always thought that if it ever came back on to the market, I might buy it back for the family.’
‘Well,’ returned Morris, realising that he had gained the initiative,’ here’s your chance to become involved. I’d like you to survey it for me.’
‘That’s not involvement,’ Mr. Morris. I want part of the action at least. You never get a place like Botallack out of your system. It’s part of my family heritage.’
‘I understand all that but will you survey it for me?’
‘If it proves satisfactory... that the mine isn’t flooded too much so that it’s beyond commercial repair... I want a part of the action.’
At that moment, Ivan mover towards them audaciously. ‘Excuse me, gentlemen,’ he began. ‘Perhaps you can help me. I’m looking for employment. Do you think you could use me at the mine?’
James was angered by the intrusion. He had come out
for a quiet period with a cup of coffee and he found himself fielding all kinds of problems intruding into his privacy. ‘You won’t get employment with a scruffy shirt like that,’ he criticised. ‘My advice to you is to shave before you start looking for a job!’
The Russian managed to swallow his pride. ‘Please!’ he begged. ‘I need a job. I need money!’
‘Don’t whine to me about poverty!’ snapped the consultant callously. ‘I’ve got troubles of my own!’ He took some coins from his pocket and threw them on the table. ‘Here... buy yourself a cup of coffee and sit somewhere else!’
Ivan rose, losing his temper. He grabbed James’s jacket and lifted him slightly off the chair. ‘I didn’t ask for charity!’ he snarled. ‘I asked you for work!’
The mining consultant became alarmed at being handled so roughly. ‘Behave yourself!’ he called out. ‘This is not a wrestling booth!’
The Russian allowed his anger to subside and he sat down miserably as James adjusted his clothing. He pushed the coins back across the table, pulling a number of bank notes that Elsie had given him from his pocket. ‘I don’t need your charity!’ he repeated. ‘I have money of my own. I need work!’
‘Then go through the normal channels to get it. Go to an Employment Exchange. Don’t pester people at random. What do you know about mining?
‘Nothing!’ rattled Ivan becoming upset. ‘I know nothing. I am nothing! What the hell am I doing here?’ He stood up after the neurotic outburst and moved quickly towards the door. Outside he paced the pavement heavily with a grim expression on his face. Things were going from bad to worse and he had made himself look a fool into the bargain. What did he know about mining? That was a stupid question! Mining! Boring holes in the ground to extract metals and minerals. He pondered on the matter for a while. The surface of the whole world was pock-marked with tin, copper, lead, platinum, silver, cobalt, diamond and gold mines. There had to be a future in it!
Later that afternoon, he arrived back at the house with an armful of books borrowed from the local lending library. Dumping them on a chair, he smiled amiably at Elsie who had just returned from work.
‘Did you get a job?’ she asked hopefully.
‘I got something better,’ he boasted. ‘I got an idea that’ll make us rich. Very rich!’ She groaned inside at his wild enthusiasm reflecting similar dreams nurtured regularly by her husband. ‘You don’t believe me do you?’ he went on, ‘but you’ll see. Tomorrow I shall start my studies and I’ll need to concentrate hard. David will have to go to school by himself from now on.’
Ignoring her dismay at the sudden change of events, he opened one of the books and became instantly totally immersed in the subject matter, becoming completely oblivious of the world around him!
***
Anna waited outside the church surrounded by her friends. Josef stood beside her, his face grim and set, almost as though he objected to the ceremony. He glanced at Anna, admiring the white wedding gown lent to her by one of the villagers, but it was Ivan who should have been the bridegroom... not Peter! He loved his sister deeply and it hurt him to see her disgraced. In truth, he considered it to be his fault. He had promised their mother before she died that he would protect his sister. The events of the day were sufficient proof that he had failed in his duty. Any worthy brother would have travelled to Plymouth to bring Ivan back... by force if necessary! In hindsight, he had taken the easy way out, waiting vainly for the man to return, spending most of his time searching for excuses for not going to fetch him. Even worse was the fact that he had assumed leadership for the group and had used that reason to vindicate himself for the default. Admittedly, he had sent a letter to Ivan but there had been no reply and he had let the matter drop.
The sound of organ music reverberated throughout the church. Anna took Josef’s arm gently.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ she consoled sweetly. ‘I’m the one getting married. ‘
He smiled but his eyes failed to mask his distress. ‘You look absolutely beautiful,’ he applauded swallowing his bitterness for a moment. ‘More beautiful than I have ever seen you before. Mother and father would be proud if they were here.’
‘Thank you, Josef,’ she returned gracefully. ‘How’s Peter this morning?’
‘A little nervous, but that’s natural.’ He paused before revealing his true feelings. ‘Anna, are you sure this is what you really want?’ It was his way of making a last ditch stand to prevent a marriage of convenience. Anna didn’t love Peter and he knew it. However, before they could pursue the matter, they were enveloped by the rest of the students and some villagers who had been invited.
Shortly afterwards, the organ sounded its onerous tones and the audience, which had settled into the pews in the church, anticipated the entrance of the bride. By now, Anna was ready with a young bridesmaid from the village gathering up the train to the bridal gown. The bouquet was in her hands and everyone was waiting for her to enter the church. However it failed to happen because her face became flushed and she had a sudden brainstorm. Taking a firm grip on the train, she ran quickly out of the churchyard before anyone realised what she was doing, leaving those about her to stare in astonishment. Josef came to his senses first and took a step forward towards the fleeting figure in white, watching the wisps of her dress trail behind in the breeze.
‘Anna!’ he called out ready to pursue her if she didn’t stop but some of the students held his arms to prevent him.
‘No, Josef!’ he was advised sternly. ‘If that’s what she wants it’s the best thing!’
Her brother pondered for a moment, straining to be released, and then relaxed. ‘You’re wise, tovarich,’ he agreed, as he contemplated what he would have to say to the guests.
Anna ran from the church as fast as her legs would carry her. She had never felt nervous and there was nothing on her mind except to go through with the marriage to Peter. Then, without warning, a feeling came over her that she was unable to control and, for a reason that she was unable to fathom, it became imperative to get away as fast as possible. Up here on the lonely hillside, all was peaceful. The birds twittered joyfully and nature flaunted itself , although she was oblivious to its beauty. Her mind dwelt on the man she really loved; all she knew was that she wanted to see him again. If only he would come back, even at this eleventh hour, he would be forgiven. She climbed to higher ground to gaze down at the valley beneath her. The wind caught her train which swirled around her body until she was forced to tear it off, laying it on the grass at her feet. What a comic-tragedy it had turned out to be! All dressed up in a lovely white wedding gown for a ceremony that wasn’t to take place. She sat on the grass and watched the railway train below snake its way along the narrow parallel lines puffing thick black smoke from its funnel. It was pointless to hope any more that Ivan would be on it. Tears ran down her face causing the mascara which had been applied so carefully to make black tracks down her cheeks. She toyed with the idea of throwing herself off the cliff into the valley below to put an end to her misery but she didn’t have enough courage to do it. In any case, there was the baby to consider.
Some time later, when her thoughts became more rational, she raised herself from the ground and wandered back to the church carrying the soiled train over her arm. The white shoes she had borrowed were caked with mud, while bits of bramble and leaves clung to the dress. With her hair dishevelled and the spoiled make-up having dried on her face, she opened the door of the church looking a sorry sight and stepped inside. Everyone had gone by now... except Peter. He sat in the front pew, his hands held tightly, staring up at the stained glass window of the crucifixion. He didn’t hear her enter but a sixth sense broke the spell and he turned to rest his eyes upon her in the ruined wedding gown.
‘I needed time to think, Peter,’ she told him sadly. ‘Now I’ve come back to marry you.’ His face remained rigid for a few moments and then he turn
ed his head away and his sobbing could be heard echoing all over the vacant church.
She moved towards him and held his head to her bosom. ‘I’m so sorry, my darling,’ she apologised. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
He continued to weep for a while and then turned towards her, ‘What happens now?’ he asked tearfully.
‘We find someone to marry us.’
‘Oh Anna!’ he cried, closing his eyes with relief. ‘You don’t know how much you mean to me.’
She stroked his hair gently with one hand, thankful that she hadn’t thrown herself into the valley to her death. If Peter loved her that much, at least she could make him happy. Perhaps one day she might even be able to love him the same way. And in less than twenty minutes... with no one else in the church except for the vicar and the cleaning lady who was promoted as their witness... they became man and wife!
***
Ivan loved to work hard and he went at his studies with hammer and tongs. His mind absorbed knowledge swiftly assimilating masses of material facts to be retained for use at a later date. During his studies, the world seemed to melt into the background with people and objects around him existing simply as vague images. Although he had the mental capacity and emotional stability to study hard, such effort took all his concentration and he sacrificed everything else to that endeavour. Elsie saw much less of him now. On most days, he would sit in the front room with his hands over his ears poring over the pages of an open book. He hardly ever left the house, detaching himself from the rest of the world. Even when he seemed to return to normality, he brow was furrowed and the mass of information digested in his brain still held his concentration. The man she had once been drawn to had become a mechanical robot. He heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing! She had regretted his brutish behaviour towards her on some occasions, while his aggressive behaviour had brought little warmth to their relationship, but now he was a person showing no love or attention towards her. She became frustrated, her nerves were starting to fray, and her state of mind was such that even her son became a drain on her patience. The time had come to speak with Ivan about his conduct and she was uncertain as to how to handle the situation. If he resented being disturbed in his studies, he might well unleash his temper giving her cause to regret. Life for Elsie was not only unpleasant... it was very uncharitable!
