house of women (11 page)

Brooker had picked Joe Stanhope to take his place in the running of the Works. But then, as everybody knew, Joe had been there a long time and been head of the workshop and what he didn't know about cars wasn't worth learning.

Her husband had taken all this without any show of retaliation. There was something wrong somewhere. It was this feeling of wanting to find out more that caused her, on the Friday night, to pay her first visit to Henry's cottage.

It was getting dusk when she left the house, but she knew her way, for she had made it her business in the daylight to find out where it lay.

And now, having left her car in the lane, she knocked on the door.

It was some time before it was opened; and there he was in his

shirt-sleeves. He was standing with his back to the light of the room and so she couldn't see the expression on his face, but his voice told her of his pleasure when he said, "Oh, my dear, come in.

Come in," and his two hands drew her immediately into a long room.

"I've just finished washing up," he said.

"Fries seem easy until you've got to tackle the greasy dishes. Sit down. Sit down. Come to the fire."

He led her down the room towards a large, stone, open fireplace where a log fire was burning.

"I've just lit it," he said.

"It's the first time this year, but it was turning cold. I love a log fire." He kept talking as he pressed her down on to the cushions of a large wicker couch. Then, dropping down on to the edge of it, his hands still holding hers, he said, "Oh, my dear. I'm ... I'm delighted to see you. But how did you find your way? It's nearly dark."

She spoke for the first time, saying, "I ... I did some detective work during the week."

They were looking at each other in silence; then the realisation of her intention straightaway brought them clinging tightly together, their mouths hungry to express their feelings. When it was over they lay, their cheeks against the cushion, their glances holding tight.

And when he said softly, "I've got to say it out aloud: I love you.

Lizzie. I never thought I'd say that to a woman ever again in my life;

but I do, I love you. "

She put her hand up and touched his cheek. There was a light stubble on it. She did not say iz6

now, "And I love you. Henry," but "How old are you?"

He smiled as he said, "Forty-two and I'm sticking to that right to the very last day, because I'll be forty-three next month. I'm over the hill."

Her head still on the cushion, she turned her face away from his and her voice had a dreamy note in it as she said, "I'm thirty-five and I've never known love. I had a girlish idea of it, but was soon

disillusioned. I know now, though, that I love you, and have loved you for the past two years' she brought her face back to look at him again

'and I'll go on loving you no matter what happens in the future."

Quietly now they enfolded each other and presently, her head on his shoulder, she murmured, "I wanted to see you so badly, but I also wanted to know what's happening at the works. His reaction is not natural. When he came back last Friday night and Gran told him she had given you the post, he could have killed her. Really; really, he could have killed her. I heard him yelling before I entered the house. He had Mother and Peggy terrified. It was an awful scene, and when he stormed out of the house I thought such was his rage that he would commit suicide or something. But no; he came back quietly. And that's been his attitude since. How has he been to you?" She raised her head now and looked at him, and he said, "Polite. Stiffly polite. I know the whole shop expected high jinks, especially when I showed my face in the showrooms. But they were disappointed. Yes. Yes'he nodded at her

'they were really disappointed. They were looking for a showdown because, you know, he's not popular. Never has been. But there, some of the men don't like me either. They don't like my methods. They could get round Mr. Cartwright, in a way; but as is also the way, he left most of the dirty work to me: he made the bullets and I had to fire them; so it was natural that everybody didn't love me. And some will love me less from now on, because there are one or two slackers in that company and it's usually the slackers that have light fingers and cause staff unrest in other ways. In the main, they are a good crowd and the majority are with me. But I don't think one of them would have been with Len. In the first place, you see, they think he got the position he's in now only through marrying you. Anyway, let's forget about him, the works, everything else, except us. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I've got a strange feeling. It's as if I'm waiting for something to happen, something that he's going to make happen."

"There we go again. Come on' he pulled her up from the couch' and let me show you my abode.

Now this' he waved his arm from side to side' isn a bad little room, is it? "

"It's lovely, and so big."

"Well, come and see the rest."

The door at the far end led into the dining-room. When he switched on the light she saw it was about half as big as their dining-room but well furnished.

"And off here," he said, opening another door, 'is the kitchen. Both these rooms look on to the back garden and the hills beyond. It's a very pleasant view in the daylight. "

She was surprised by the modern appearance of the kitchen and she said so: "It's beautifully equipped."

"I had it done out' he paused job, some four years ago." And she knew he had been about to say, 'just before Jane died. "

"And off here," he went on, 'is a walk-in pantry. " He switched on another light.

"And next to it a coal house and woodshed, all modern conveniences. And a cloakroom. I would have liked that nearer the front door but there was no place to put it. At one time I was going to have a glass

verandah all along the back here, like a long sun-room. I'll still do it, I think. But now for upstairs."

The staircase was made of teak, open and uncarpeted, and the landing was quite large for the size of the house. Four doors led off it. The first he opened led into a good-size bathroom, much more modern, she saw immediately, than the one they had back home, for the walls were covered in pale blue tiles.

The first bedroom he showed her was of ordinary size, one which would take a single bed and a bedroom suite. But when he opened the door to the main bedroom she was surprised, not only at the size of it, but at the furnishings and colours. It was definitely a woman's room. The carpet was a dull green, the curtains pink, the bedspread matching them. The bedroom suite was modern, cream with gilt handles, the dressing-table being large with three mirrors. There were two easy chairs, upholstered in scarlet Dralon, as was the oblong box at the foot of the bed. She took all this in whilst he pulled the curtains on the two windows; then he turned to her and, on a short laugh, said, "I keep the place tidy but I'm not much hand at polishing, as you likely noticed downstairs. A duster, yes." He was standing in front of her now and asking quietly, "Do you like it; I mean, the whole house?"

"I think it's lovely. Your wife had good taste."

"Yes' he nodded 'she had good taste." The tone of his voice seemed to speak of his loss and she felt a strong pang of jealousy, only to ask herself, why?

His wife was dead and she was here and he needed her as she needed him.

When he asked now, "Are you in a hurry to get back?" she shook her head, then said softly, "Not for a while."

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her face, but neither of them spoke; then gently he turned her around and unzipped her dress.

"Can you remember what you felt like, Auntie May, when you were carrying Charlie?"

May lay back in the deck chair, put her hands behind her head and looked up into the cloudless sky.

"It seems so far away I can't remember ever carrying him. I ... I think he just popped in from somewhere." She turned a laughing face towards Peggy, who was sitting in another deck chair, and she, matching her tone, laughed and said, "He must have given you a surprise, then.

Had he his guitar with him?"

They laughed together; then May said musingly, "I think I sang most of the time right up to the end."

"It's the end I'm afraid of. I asked Mam, but she won't talk about it.

She just said, "Oh, when the time comes you'll take it in your stride."

I thought that was funny. "

"Well, she's right, it's all natural. And when you once hold your baby you forget about ... well, everything. And you're looking forward to it, aren't you, the baby coming?"

"Yes; yes, I am."

"Is Andrew?"

"He doesn't talk about it. I think he's more interested in his poster at the present moment, and it's good." She nodded at May.

"And he's tickled to death that Great-gran is having it enlarged and printed for the showroom. He gets on with Great-gran. Funny that, isn't it. Auntie May? Dad never could."

"Does he speak to you now?"

"He never opens his mouth to me; but then, he hardly opens his mouth to anybody now, not even to bawl. Gran says not getting the man ager's job has knocked the stuffing out of him. Yet, I don't know; I cannot imagine him taking this business lying down, not after the way he went for Great-gran that night when she broke the news to him."

"There's one thing I think you can be thankful for, lass, and that is Andrew's in another department right away from him. Has he spoken to Andrew yet?"

"Oh no, not a word."

"He's an odd man. Anyway, what about a cup of tea? But why tea in this heat, I don't know. Would you rather have a lemonade?"

"No; tea, please."

As May pulled herself to her feet, Peggy said, "Talking of speaking or not speaking, Charlie barely opens his mouth to me these days, either.

He's so polite I can hardly recognise him."

"Oh, he's the same indoors," May lied quickly;

'hardly get a word out of him. He spends most of his time twanging the strings on that bit of wood. But I must say he's coming on like a house on fire under Mr. Reynolds. He still goes to him twice a week, pays for the second lesson out of his pocket money. He's got it bad.

"

After May left her, Peggy sat staring ahead. She couldn't really understand why she should be so hurt about Charlie and his changed attitude towards her;

they had always been so pally.

The gate's clicking made her turn her head, and she saw her mother entering the garden; and Lizzie called out, "This is what you do with your afternoons, then, is it? I wondered where you had got to. I've been over twice."

"Oh, I haven't been here long. I must have been in the wood; it's cool in there."

Lizzie let herself down on to the wooden seat attached to the elm tree that gave shade to the two deck chairs, thinking, Well, why didn't she stay in the wood. She's never away from this end.

She knew she was becoming jealous of May; but she couldn't help it, for more than ever now she was wishing to be closer to her daughter, even though she realised she seemed to be growing further away i34

from her. Between them now was Andrew as well as May and Frank and Charlie. Why couldn't she have fallen for Charlie? Charlie, of

course, would never have got her into trouble as Andrew had. She still wasn't sure of Andrew. He was so pleasant and seemingly so grateful for his new way of life. Even her grandmother treated him now as if he hadn't disgraced her great-grandchild, but had brought some benefit to her in some way. She was certainly taken with him.

"Hello, there. Oh, I'll get another cup. Isn't it a scorcher! Sit where you are," May added as Lizzie rose to her feet.

"I just popped over to see if you've got any wool in your scrap bag, this shade. I only need about half an ounce; in fact, not that; it's just to do the sewing up. I finished the coat."

"Good lord! Mam; that's quick; you only started it at the week-end,"

Peggy said.

"Well, it isn't all that big, is it? And yet it will be too large for a first coat."

"And you're sticking to pink," May said.

"Well, my bet's still on blue. And look you!" she stabbed a finger at Peggy.

"The only way to settle this is to bring forth two. You understand?"

"Oh, Auntie May, be quiet!"

"Well, you never know. My goodness, how do they manage with three, four, and even five? When Charlie came along I thought I would go round the bend just trying to manage two, one of them already six years old."

Lizzie looked at her daughter and her friend: they were laughing together, they looked close; it was they who could have been mother and daughter. She felt outside of everything and everyone. Yet she

shouldn't; she should be feeling on top of the world now that she had Henry. Yet, the more she saw of Henry, the more they loved, the more frightened she became. What if anyone were to see her? What if it leaked out? Just imagine if her grandmother got to know, even her mother. And what about Len? Yes, what about him? She never thought she would feel guilt with regard to him, but she did, because there was one thing she had come to know: she wasn't cut out for liaisons. There had never been any scandal in the family and scandals outside it were carried on by . that kind of person, someone to be ignored, even shunned. But Len was a man she had come to despise, a man who had no real love for her;

passion, yes, even lust. That was another thing she'd had to fight.

She recalled the times when she would look at him across the breakfast table and hear him talking to her mother and Peggy in his big way while she wondered if they had any idea of what had taken place the night before or even that morning . "Look, your tea'll be cold. You look miles away. By the way' May leant towards her 'here's a bit of gossip.

You know the Robinsons, three houses down? He's in the Town Hall, she's secretary to a boss in the new factory on Pringle Road. Well, she's divorcing him, her husband, but by all accounts it should have been the other way round.

He's gone to live with his sister in Gateshead and the house is going up for sale. A board went up yesterday. The things that happen in Bramble Lane. My! My! You don't need to read the News of the World.