Authors: Yelena Kopylova
You know who Mrs. Milburn is? Rosie . Rosie Milburn. And who should Mr. Milburn be but your dear Andrew. Honest to God! There they were going down to the car. I'd seen it along the end of the track. It was a BMW. There's quite a few of them knocking about; I hadn't noticed the number plate;
well, there was no need. "
Peggy didn't move. She didn't take her eyes off Frank. She heard May saying, "Never in the world! Never!" But she still made no comment.
Strangely, she found herself thinking along lines similar to those her great-grandmother would likely have thought, putting money first: where does he get the money to keep two houses? She knew he was not actually in the red at the bank, but he was pretty near to it at times, although he was now paid a very good salary, much more than Len would ever have been paid if he had still been alive and in the job.
Moreover, Mr. Andrew Jones was a neat dresser: he spent a lot on his clothes and quite a lot on Emma, but little on herself. It was
presents from Gran that kept her attired as she was. The next thought that entered her head was of divorce: the way was clear. All these years he had been carrying on on the side and now here was actual proof of it. He wouldn't be able to lay claim on Emma.
Charlie. Charlie and her, together at last. No more meeting secretly in the wood in the dark, always in the dark.
May's hand was on hers: "It's all right, it's all right, dear," she was saying.
"It's a way out. At last you've got a way out."
Peggy's voice sounded quiet, even gentle as, looking from one to the other, she said, "I've been an idiot, haven't I? All these years I've been an idiot. When did Rosie leave? Over seven years ago, and I never guessed. I can't remember once seeing them talking together. No, I can't remember once. And Rosie, she was so nice, so jolly, so kind and helpful."
She straightened her back and a small smile began to spread over her lips as she said, "I wonder what Mrs. Funnell will say to this? What will her reaction zy8
be when she knows that her bright boy, while pat ting and stroking her and kissing her brow and her blue lips, must have been laughing up his sleeve at her, and thinking what a clever boy he is to be able to live in her fine house and have a big say in her business, while at the same time running a mistress on the side. "
She turned to Frank now.
"You know, Frank," she said, "I'm going to take a great delight in telling her, much more so than facing up to the big boy himself, because she it is who has paved the way for all this."
"I understand what you mean, Peggy, but I can't see how she's paved his way to buy that bungalow. Rosie ... well, she hadn't any money, had she? And even on a cook's wages she wouldn't be able to rise to
that."
"He may have sold some cars on the side."
Frank looked at his wife.
"I doubt it. May," he said.
"From what I understand from Henry, he'd have a job to do that; the old girl has her finger on every penny."
The ring of the telephone brought May up from the table, saying, "I bet that's Charlie." But within a minute she came running back, saying,
"It's Mrs. Funnell. Something's happened. She's yelling at the top of her voice. She's calling, " Bring Frank! Bring Frank! "
They were all on their feet now and running from the kitchen, the two women following Frank through the garden, through the woodland and so into the house.
Victoria was standing at the top of the stairs hanging on to the banister. And when they reached her, she said, "He's taken an overdose."
In the bedroom, Mrs. Funnell was also supporting herself, one hand on her chest, the other on the bedrail, and at her feet lay the doubled-up figure of Andrew clad in only vest and pants.
"Good God!" Frank was now kneeling by Andrew's side, straightening his limbs. He put an ear to his chest, then looked up at them, saying,
"He's still breathing, but his heart's going twenty to the dozen.
Let's get him on his feet. You'd better call the doctor, Peggy. "
"No, no!" said Mrs. Funnell; 'give him salt and water. It'll bring it up. He hasn't been out that long.
I .
I heard him only a short while ago coming out of the bathroom. Get some salt and water, hot. "
Peggy had been standing near the table. The aspirin bottle was empty, as was the silver-papered, singly wrapped, Panadol square that usually held twelve tablets, but in which she knew there had been only three, for she herself had taken two that afternoon. As for the aspirins, there might have been a dozen in the bottle, but that would have z8o been all. She had made it a habit never to leave medicines lying about since the time she found Emma sucking a Panadol, thinking it was a mint, but thankfully then having the sense to spit it out when she found it wasn't.
Yet if this had taken place in her grandmother's room, he would have found plenty of bottles there, a cupboard-full, going back for two or three years. All in aid of her many illnesses, real and imaginary.
And such was her feeling that she might have need of them sometime, nothing was ever thrown out.
She didn't actually run from the room to get the hot water and salt; whatever he had taken was a gesture: it had been enough to knock him out, but it certainly wouldn't kill. This was to pay Emma out, to make her feel guilty and never again to disobey him. But even should she explain it to her as his ruse to get his own way with her, there was still the possibility that the ruse might not have come off; in anyone older than him and less strong, it could possibly have achieved its object.
When she returned to the room with the salted hot water, Frank and May between them had lifted Andrew on to the bed, and there he was propped up and breathing very heavily now. And Mrs. Funnell was talking at them all the time: "I'm not surprised. I'm not surprised. The strain he's been under with one thing and another. But I'd like to know what's brought this on, and I'll get to know. Yes, I will. I will."
"Get me a bowl, Peggy, will you?" Frank turned from the bed and, taking the mug from her hand, now addressed his wife.
"Pull his jaws apart," he said.
When the hot, salted water went down Andrew's throat, he gulped, and it would have all spurted out had Peggy, and none too gently, not clamped his jaws together again.
"Get him on his feet and walk him up and down. That's the way. It's no good letting him lie there. Get him on his feet."
"All right, Mrs. Funnell. If you'll get out of the way, we'll get him to his feet." Frank's voice carried the expression that was on his face, and Mrs. Funnell came back at him, saying, "Don't you bawl at me, Frank Conway! You forget where you are."
"Shut up, woman!"
This staggered Mrs. Funnell into silence, and her feelings were
registered on her grim face as she watched this husband and wife whom she had never liked, classing them as common, dragging the almost inert figure up and down the bedroom. And they didn't stop until he heaved and brought up a great deal of liquid into the bowl that Peggy was reluctantly holding.
Following this, they laid him on the bed again, and when he started to groan May said, "He'll live,"
and turning and looking at Mrs. Funnell, she added, "Unfortunately,"
before marching out of the room.
Peggy followed her on to the landing.
"Can't believe it, can you, that he would go to such lengths?" she said.
"Oh, his type will do anything. He's a maniac. No, not a maniac, just a devious, two-faced bugger, I would call him. Well, anyway, you've got him where you want him. And as for that old girl in there. Oh, wouldn't I like to be a fly on the wall when you tell her the latest!
Anyway, give me a shout if you want me. Frank will realise I've gone home. "
Peggy went into her grandmother's room. Victoria was sitting on the edge of the bed, an arm hugging her waist, and she asked simply, "He's dead?"
"No; far from it. By what I've reckoned, he took enough just to knock him out. He knew what he was doing. This is all for Emma's
benefit."
"It's a pity he didn't get a surprise and find himself dead. A great pity. Mother went on like someone demented when she found him. It was just by coincidence that she did. If he did as you say, he would have calculated what she would do: when he didn't go in to her and hold her hand she would go and tap on his door, because he never entered the house without visiting her, wherever she was. I once said to him.
Mother's in the lavatory but she never locks the door. "
"Oh! Gran." Peggy wanted to laugh, but she knew if she gave way to it it might turn to hysteria.
"Get into bed, dear."
She tucked up her grandmother; then bending over her, she smiled at her while saying, "I think this calls for a glass of sherry. It's an occasion."
"Oh, Peggy! Peggy!" The bedclothes shook.
"Don't make me laugh. But yes, a glass of sherry. This is an occasion."
Within an hour Andrew Jones was aware that he was back in the land of the living but that a doctor hadn't been called. Looking up at Frank, he said, "I'm sorry; a stupid thing to do. Has the doctor gone?"
"The doctor hasn't been," said Frank tersely.
"Mrs. Funnell thought it better not to call him because you'd only taken a small dose. Did you understand that when you made the partial attempt?"
"What... what d'you mean, partial... attempt?"
"Just that. You took only enough, really, to give you a
twenty-four-hour, good sleep. Well now, I'm off. Next time, I'd do the job properly. Take whisky with it, that helps."
Left alone Andrew Jones closed his eyes and turned his head to the side. He felt terrible. He felt ill. And what had it achieved?
Well, he would soon know when he saw her. What time was it?
z84
Was she home yet? No, she'd still be in that place, being handled by those young louts. The picture in his mind caused his teeth to clench, and he muttered, "Oh, Emma, Emma. Don't leave me. Don't leave me."
Then, as if he was being answered, a voice in his head yelled, "And she'll not leave me! I'll see to that; she's mine. I can't help it. I don't want to help it. She's mine. She always has been mine, and she knows it inside herself. But it's her bitch of a mother. If it wasn't for her, Emma would understand how I feel. But I'll win, I'll beat her yet. By God! yes, I'll beat her yet. Oh lord! I feel sick. Oh Emma, Emma. Hurry up. Come home and see what you've done, what I've done for you."
There was a rustle by the side of the bed and he opened his eyes to see Peggy standing there. She was smiling and what she said almost brought him up from the bed, his fists flailing. But the sickness caused him to drop back. She had said, "Better luck next time, Andrew," and had turned about and walked to the door.
Further along the corridor she tapped on her great-grandmother's door and went in without waiting for permission.
"I'd like a word with you. Great-gran."
"Well, I'm ready to have a word with you, too. By! yes, I am. This business tonight has opened my eyes."
"Oh, that's good. I'm glad of that."
"Don't be perky, miss. And remember who you're talking to."
"Yes, I am remembering; and please remember, too, Great-grandmother, that I am not a miss any more; I am a married woman who has run your house for years and has had to put up with a man of your choosing."
"What do you mean, a man of my choosing? Now let me tell you' the finger was wagging " Andrew has been brought to the limit of his patience by your attitude and unwifely behaviour and your lack of understanding with regard to his feelings as a father. "
"Oh, Great-gran, I'll either have to laugh at you or yell at you. But because you're an old-fashioned, besotted old woman I'll laugh at you while I tell you that your dear Andrew has not missed my wifely
attentions at all. Do you remember Rosie, our daily help? Dear Rosie, cheery Rosie? She left to go off with a fellow, you remember?
Disgraceful conduct, wasn't it? Well, do you know who the fellow was, Great-gran? No, you'd never guess in a thousand years. Well' she leant slightly forward 'the fellow that Rosie went off with was your dear Andrew, the loving father. And he set up house for her in a bungalow further along the river, in a nice secluded part. And that's where he goes to his meetings on
2. Tuesdays and Fridays, and sometimes on a Sunday and any other time his need calls him. "
Mrs. Funnell's face was twitching, each feature of it seeming to stretch away from its neighbour: the eyebrows were raised, the eyes wide, the nose was stretched downwards, her upper lip covering her top set of teeth was trying to steady them, while her drooped chin was wobbling; even her ears seemed to be twitching. She did not come back immediately and say, "I don't believe this, you're lying," but what she said was, in a very small voice, "That would have to be proved."
"Oh, Frank will come over when you like and tell you how he found out.
He was called to the next bungalow; the woman's trying to sell it; and there he saw the happy couple saying goodbye to each other. Rosie is a little fatter, I understand. And did you know that your dear Andrew is a commercial traveller? Well, like all commercial travellers, you know what they say about them, as they do about sailors: they have a wife in every port. "
"Shut up! Shut up! You're taking a delight in this, aren't you?"
"Yes, Great-gran, a great delight, because it's paved the way for my divorce; at least, my divorcing him."
"You won't. You wouldn't dare. I won't have that scandal. He'll be brought to his senses. And I still feel that you're to blame for this: if you had been a wife to him he would certainly not have had to seek comfort elsewhere. No, that's the reason, that's the reason why he's done it. I shall talk to him, and things will be straightened out. I'll put a stop to this. But there'll be no talk of divorce, not in this house."
"You can't do anything about it, Great-gran, not a thing." On this she turned about and walked slowly from the room with the old woman's voice crying after her, "You'll see. You'll see. Oh, yes I can."