Justice Is a Woman

Catherine Cookson

1994

ISBN 780552 136228

Synopsis:

The day Joe Remington brought his new bride to Fell Rise, he had already sensed she

might not settle

easily into his home just outside the Tyneside town of Fellburn. Making plain her

disapproval of Joe’s

familiarity with the servants, questioning the donation of food to striking miners’ families these objections

and more soon rubbed Joe and the local people up the wrong way, a problem he could

easily have done

without, for this was 1926, the year of the General Strike, the effects of which would nowhere be felt

more acutely than in this heartland of the NorthEast.

Then when Elaine became pregnant, she saw it as a disaster and only the willingness of her unmarried

sister Betty to come and see her through her confinement made it bearable. But in the long run, would

Betty’s presence only serve to widen the rift between husband and wife, or would she

help to bring about

a reconciliation7 Catherine Cookson’s powerful new novel spans the years of change

leading into the

Second World War and explores the many facets of a marriage based on initial passion

rather than

love.

Catherine Cookson was born in Tyne Dock, the illegitimate daughter of a poverty-

stricken woman,

Kate, whom she believed to be her older sister. She began work in service but eventually moved south

to Hastings where she met and married a local grammar-school master. At the age of

forty she began

writing about the lives of the working-class people with whom she had grown up, using the place of her

birth as the background to many of her novels. Although originally acclaimed as a

regional writer her

novel The Round Tower won the Winifred Holtby Award for the best regional novel of

1968 her

readership soon began to spread throughout the world. Her novels have been translated into more than a

dozen languages and more than 40,000,000 copies of her books have been sold in Corgi

alone.

Six of her novels The Fifteen Streets, The Black Velvet Gown, The Black Candle, The

Man Who

Cried, The Cinder Path and The Dwelling Place have been made into successful

television dramas, and

more are planned.

Catherine Cookson’s many best selling novels have established her as one of the most

popular of

contemporary women novelists. After receiving an OBE in 1985, Catherine Cookson was

created a

Dame of the British Empire in 1993. She and her husband Tom now live near Newcastle

upon Tyne.

Contents

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

“As I see it, sir, you’re a traitor to your class.”

“What is my class?”

The elderly gentleman, sitting very straight in the corner of the first-class carriage, pursed his lips and

knob bled his chin before replying, “By your manner, dress and voice, I would have said you were upper

middle class, but as our conversation has proceeded so has your status decreased in my eyes.”

“And now you’re forced to eject me from the middle class altogether, is that it?”

“You have said it, sir.”

The younger man sitting on the opposite side of the carriage bit hard on his lip, bowed his head for a

moment, then glanced at his companion, who was sitting almost as stiffly as the

gentleman opposite, and

with much the same expression on her face. When she muttered under her breath, “Joe,”

he put his hand

on her knee and shook it; then turning to his travelling companion again, he said, “What your generation

doesn’t seem to understand, sir, is that times are changing: the war stuck spurs into the working man; he

no longer considers himself so much merchandise, a means of barter, he’s emerging; for the first time in

generations he’s seeing himself as an individual, and if he’s not led properly he’ll take over the reins and

lead himself.”

“No working man can ever be a leader, a real leader; he’s a bungler;

the most he can rise to is soap-box oratory; he can excite a mob but he cannot quell a riot.

The working

man will always have to be led, whether in army or civilian life. It is in the order of things; it is as God

and nature intended. “

As he exclaimed, “Oh God Almighty!” Joe Remington sprang to his feet, an action which brought the

elderly gentleman into an even straighter sitting position and caused Joe’s wife, Elaine, to close her eyes

tightly for a moment before she felt her arm grasped and herself being yanked up from the seat.

“Thank God! we’re running in. Let’s get out of here.”

“Joe! please.”

Joe released his hold on his wife’s arm and allowed her to pass before him out of the first-class

compartment into the corridor; then, almost as an afterthought, he stepped back and

swung some hand

luggage down from the rack before returning his travelling companion’s glare of dislike and following his

wife out and along the corridor to the carriage door.

When the train drew to a stop in Newcastle Central Station Elaine Remington disdained to accept her

husband’s assistance as she stepped on to the platform, so he turned from her and walked towards the

guard’s van.

He held the tickets, and so his wife had to wait for him at the barrier; and when

eventually they were

through and were standing under the covered way outside the station, their three large suitcases at their

feet, Joe broke the silence, saying, “I’m amazed that you are taking his side.”

“There are times and places for arguments, and a railway carriage, to my mind, is not one of them, and

on such a subject as class.”

“It wasn’t about class until he brought it up.”

“What would be your attitude if you were to meet him again?”

“There’s little hope of that.”

“He said he was on his way to stay with Lord Menton.”

“Yes, yes, I know he did.”

“But... but you said Lord Menton’s place was quite near; in fact, he’s your neighbour.”

“Yes, I said that, but I didn’t mean to imply that we are on visiting terms. Menton and my father!” He

gave a mirthless laugh.

“I can understand about your father, but do you mean that you yourself are not on visiting terms with the

Mentons?”

“That’s just what I do mean, Elly. And look, my dear’ he turned to her fully now, his voice and manner

softening ‘don’t let’s have a row. If we’re going to have our first bust-up let it be over something

important and not over an old diehard like him. Come on.” He put his arm through hers.

“Come on, smile. If you don’t I’ll kiss you in public long and hard and that’ll cause a sensation, ‘cos ii it

isn’t done, you know, kissing in public in the North.” When she smiled faintly at him, he said, “Ah, that’s

better, the sun’s breaking through.” Then looking about him, he exclaimed, “Where’s

David got to? I

wired him; he should be here.”

“Do you always call the servants by their Christian names?”

“Christian names? David?” Joe had stepped from the kerb to the road and was gazing into the distance

as he replied, “We grew up together. Somehow, I don’t look upon David as a servant.”

“Nor his wife?”

He turned his head in her direction and said quietly, “No, nor Hazel.”

“But you call the butler Duffy.”

“That’s only because he’s always been known as Duffy from a boy, so I understand ...

And you know

something, Elly?” he stepped back on to the kerb and to her side again ‘we don’t look upon Duffy as a

butler; we are not in the class that has butlers. You knew that. “

“But he does buttle; he waits on table, and he acts as footman, etcetera.”

“Elly’Joe’s voice was very soft now ‘we’ll have to start sending you to night-school.

You’re going to

live on the outskirts of Fellburn, remember? You’ve seen the place, you’ve stayed at the house, you’ve

met the people. True, it was a flying visit, but do you recall that I pointed out to you then that Fellburn ...

Newcastle and the whole Tyne area is so different from London in its outlook, even more so than Peking

is to Paris; in fact, the Chinese and the French, I think, could have more in common than the Londoners

your Londoners, and Geordies Remember the conversation we had after you had met

Father?”

“Yes, yes, I remember it, Joe, very well.” Her voice was stiff.

“And what did you say then?”

She looked about her, at the mass of black—capped, dark-clothed workmen who seemed

to have

appeared from nowhere and were now pressing past them on their way into the station,

and she muttered

under her breath, “This is neither the time nor the place.” He was once again standing close to her, his

arm linked within hers, and he bent down to her now and said, “That’s a favourite phrase of yours, isn’t

it? Well, not to be deflected by it I’ll tell you what you said; it’ll pass the time till David gets here. You

said, “ Darling, darling Joe, I don’t care what your father is, or will be, I don’t mind if I have to live with

him for the rest of my life as long as you have to live with him too. “ And if I remember rightly, Elly, you

ended up by telling me that you adored me and that you would die if you didn’t marry

me.”

“Joe?”

“What is it, darling?”

“Shut up!”

“Yes, darling ...” His jocularity was cut short by the honk-honk of a car horn, and he turned his head

sharply and exclaimed, “Ah, good.

Here’s David;’ i3 then he added immediately, with less enthusiasm, “Good God! he has

Clan with him.”

Half turning towards her, he exclaimed, “I’m sorry about this, dear.

It’s “ David’s father-in-law; he can be a bit of a trial.

Sorry. “

The car that drew up slowly against the kerb was a 1912 Rolls-Royce.

The back of it was cab-like; the front, although roofed, was open at the sides; and at the wheel sat a

very tall man, who on first sight appeared to be black-skinned, although closer inspection showed him to

be a half-caste: his skin was a deep chocolate-brown; his hair was black but not frizzy, and altogether he

looked a handsome young fellow. In contrast, his father-in-law, Clan Egan, was an

undersized man with

a thin face, one cheek of which was scarred as if by a sword thrust.

“Hello there, David.”

“Hello there, Joe ... Hello ... hello, madam.” David had hesitated on the word, and Elaine, looking hard

at him, merely inclined her head by way of reply.

“Did you have a good journey?”

“Yes, amazingly so, David; hardly anyone on the train.”

“They’re frightened to come ‘cos they won’t get back; the whole bloody lot stops the

night. We’ll show

‘em.”

Both Joe and David exchanged glances as Clan Egan, addressing himself solely to the

windscreen, went

on, “The country’s behind us, every man jack. I’ll bet they’ll remember the third of May, nineteen 14

twenty-six, for years to come. We’ll show ‘em.”

Joe settled his wife into the back seat, then took his place beside her; and David, after stowing away the

luggage, got behind the wheel again and started up the car. And all the while Clan Egan went on talking.

And it was impossible not to listen to him; the only alternative would have been to close the dividing

window, but Joe couldn’t do that.

“Less wages and longer hours. By God! would you believe it. But we won’t budge. No,

not a bloody

inch. Not a penny off the pay, not a minute off the day, that’s Cook’s law, and of every man jack of us.

Baldwin, Churchill, the lot of ‘em .. somebody should put a bullet through Churchill; he calls us the

enemy; the working man’s the enemy of the country, he says. Aye well, by God! he’ll see what enemy

he’s up against afore we’re finished with him. The Samuel Commission. Did you ever

hear owl like it? “

He now turned to glare at David.

“Improve the industry, they said; amalgamation of smaller pits, they said;

better working conditions, they said, such as pit-head baths.

Pit-head baths, I ask you! Longer hours and less pay they’re offering us, but they’ll go to the expense of

pit-head baths. They talk like bloody maniacs, the lot of ‘em, bloody maniacs. Baths ..

clean their arses

.. “

“ClanI’ Joe was leaning forward now, tapping him on the shoulder.

“You know what they say in the club; ladies present.” Clan Egan glanced over his

shoulder and met the

cold gaze of Elaine, and his head made the slightest movement of acknowledgement as

he said, i5 “Aye,

well, I’m a bit het-up, you see. Sorry.” Then looking full at Joe, he added, “I suppose you think I’m

taking a liberty ridin’ in your car; well, I never asked to. I was on me way back on me feet when David

here spotted me and he said you wouldn’t mind.”

“No, no, of course we don’t mind. And we understand it’s a very testing time.”

“Testin’!” The head was turned away now, the gaze and the voice directed towards the

windscreen

once more.

“Testin’, that’s puttin’ it mildly, lad; there’ll be skull and hair flyin’ afore this is over, you mark my

words. At midnight a national strike starts: transport and railway workers, heavy industry, gas,

electricity, the whole blo... lot. The whole country’s behind us.”

Squeezing Elaine’s hand, Joe looked at her helplessly as Clan continued to talk while the car sped over