Justice Is a Woman (11 page)

with anyone, in fact, below her own station. It would so often appear that she was more at home with

the lower classes. Well, she’d put her into the picture straightaway: she wasn’t going to allow that kind

of thing to go on in this house ..

But wait. She needed Betty. Oh yes, she needed Betty, and not only now, but would do

for months to

come; and when the child was born she would need her more .. She’d better tread

carefully; Betty was

quite capable of taking up her bags and leaving. She suddenly experienced a feeling of deep envy

towards her gauche sister. Oh, to be able to take up your bags and go . with enough

money to provide

for your needs, to say farewell to this part of the country, and this house and everyone in it. Oh yes, this

house and everyone in it.

“You’re not going to accept?”

“Of course I am.”

“After her sending you a letter like that?” Elaine pointed to the sheet of paper in Betty’s hand, and Betty

laughed, replying, “If she had written any other way I wouldn’t have thought it was from her;

it’s characteristic. “ She read aloud, ‘“ Come to tea on Wednesday four o’clock .. just you. This place

is like the North Pole; wrap up well. You remember me ? We met in the railway carriage.

Sarah’ll

likely not speak to you but don’t let that bother you. Yours, Mary Ambers. “ “ It’s just like her. “

“What did she mean, just you? Did she think that I would go along with you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why did she say it?”

“I don’t know, Elaine.” Betty now folded up the letter and put it in her pocket.

“She’s an eccentric old lady,” she added.

“You’re being invited on sufferance: you must refuse it; she says Lady Menton will likely not speak to

you.”

“I’m not going to refuse it, Elaine; she’s likely very lonely.”

“Nonsense. She’s more likely bored and wants to use you as a form of excuse.”

“Most probably. Most probably.” Betty now turned towards the door, adding, as she

opened it, “Most

people do.”

As the door closed behind her, Elaine called testily, “Betty! Betty!”

Betty took no notice, but crossed the landing and went into her room.

Jane had lit the fire, for the day was bitterly cold; in ten days’ time it would be Christmas.

She had never

looked forward to Christmas, because she always felt sad at Christmas. She didn’t know why, but even

as a child she had felt sad at this time of year.

Christmas presents and a Christmas stocking had done nothing to alleviate this feeling.

She couldn’t

understand why; it was something deeply inborn in her. But now she was depressed, too, by other

matters, things that she couldn’t discuss with Elaine, such as the deep sympathy she felt for the miners

down there in the village, and for all those others who’d had to return to work under worse conditions

than they had suffered before going on strike. For seven long months they had stood out and now, as

Joe had said last night, they were like an army that had surrendered to a merciless foe, and like

conquered men they were bitter and full of hatred. She had seen that hatred take on a tangible form a

few weeks ago when she was passing through Fellburn. The miners had been fighting

with the police,

themselves protecting pit men from another town who had come to work in the mine. The streets had

been full of raging curses intermingled with cries of:

“Blacklegs! Scurvy swine! Backdoor bastards. Thieves! Taking the bread out of the

hairns’ mouths;’

on and so on. And she had seen the blood running down thin rage-engulfed faces.

A month ago all the windows down one section of Joe’s factory had been smashed in,

and two of his

men had been attacked in the dark and beaten up. Injustice created beasts: Mike had

stated it well when

he said that it turned fireside tom-cats into tigers.

But now it was all over there was a deeper sadness in the village and the town than there had been when

the strike was at its height. She likened the situation to war-occupied territory. Admitted, there were

many rough customers among the miners, but who wouldn’t be rough when forced to

work under such

conditions as they had, and for so little money?

There were times of late when she wished she hadn’t come here. Except for the time she spent in war

service she had, for most of her life, lived among a class of people who, in the main, lived graciously.

Even though, for some time now, she had found herself as an employee, nevertheless she had, in a way,

been on the same plane as her mistresses. But since coming into this house she had been plunged into a

different atmosphere, a strange atmosphere; yet despite it all she found herself in

sympathy with it, and

with those from whom it emanated, not only with Joe and Mike, but also with David and Hazel down in

the cottage, who were quietly fighting their war against colour prejudice; and with Ella, who had been

forced to change her name just to please Elaine; and with Mary and Duffy, both work-

weary. And it

distressed her to think that she felt more at ease in their company than she did in that of her sister.

Elaine had always been petulant, and marriage hadn’t improved her; in fact, on more than one occasion

of late it had been as much as she could do to carry on playing ‘good old Betty’ and not to turn on her

and tell her exactly what she thought. But she had reminded herself that Elaine was well into her sixth

month of pregnancy and was feeling unwell most of the time, or at least so she said. She slumped down

in her chair and held her feet out towards the fire and chastised herself. She mustn’t accuse Elaine of

putting on her sickness, for at times she really did look ill.

She wished Christmas was over; she wished she had something definite to do besides

soothing Elaine,

and arranging flowers, and knitting, knitting, knitting. The only brightness in her days occurred when she

climbed the stairs and had a natter with Mike, or when she talked to Joe; not that she often had the

chance to talk to Joe, apart from at breakfast, or perhaps at late supper if Elaine had gone to bed. She

liked talking to Joe. She liked Joe altogether. She thought he was a fine man, much too good for Elaine.

Betty rose abruptly from the chair and went hastily from the room and up the stairs to the top floor.

When she opened the sitting-room door she could see no sign of Mike, so she knocked on the bedroom

door only to hear a voice from the observatory calling, “I’m up here. Who is it?”

“It’s me, Mike.”

“Aw, come on up, lass.”

She climbed the steep stairs into the conservatory, and there he was sitting on a straight-backed chair, a

rug round his knees and an oil stove to the side of him, and she said immediately, “What on earth brought

you up here?”

“The view, lass, as always the view, for on a clear day like this it’s something not to be missed. Look at

that.” He pointed through the wide panes.

“You can see all the way to the river, even the ships going up and down. Look there.” He handed her a

pair of binoculars and when she put them to her eyes, yes indeed, she could see the

different shapes of

the ships on the river.

She stood by his side and turned her head one way and then the other as she said, “It is a most

extraordinary view.”

“Aye, lass, there’s not a yard of land for miles around you can’t pick out from here. Me old dad knew

what he was doing when he built this place.”

“He did indeed! But look’ she bent over him ‘it’s dangerous for you to attempt those

stairs alone.”

“I’m all right; I’ve arrived.” He spread out his arms.

“One of these days you’ll arrive at the bottom.”

“Very likely, lass, very likely, and that’ll put a quick end to it, and a good job an’ all.”

“Don’t be silly.” .

“I’m not being silly.” He looked up at her now, his clear blue eyes fastened intently on her.

“I’m going to ask you a question. In the same position, which would you choose, a quick end or a

long-drawn-out existence looking at your bones twisting up?” She stared back at him, her face

solemn-looking as she replied, “I don’t know; I wouldn’t be able to answer that truthfully unless I found

myself in your position. I only know that your going would leave a gap in a great many lives.”

“You think so?” He laughed a short amused laugh; then he shook his head at her and said,

“You’re

kind, lass, you’re kind. But you know something? I’ve never been able to use all the

fingers on one

hand to count the friends I’ve had, the real friends. And I’m not the only one, because you show me the

man who says he’s got more than five friends in the world, real friends I’m talking about, mind, and I’ll

show you the biggest liar going. A man can have acquaintances by the score; in fact, we all tend to say.

Oh, he’s a friend of mine. But no, lass, friends, real friends, are scarcer than the radium that Madame

Curie went after. By the way, I’ve been reading about her the day. Great woman, great woman; nearly

went mad when her man died. And by the way, that’s scarce too, the element that makes a woman

nearly go mad when her man dies.”

“Now you’re being cynical.”

“Oh no, lass, no, I’m not. If she’s young she takes it in her stride;

if she’s under fifty she dolls herself up and looks for another man;

an’ if she’s over fifty she takes a housekeeping job and hopes. “ His head went back and his laugh was

infectious, and she joined hers to it, and when it died away she dried her eyes and said, “

You’re an

awful man, Mike, but you’re good for one, like some medicines. “

“Epsom salts or cascara?”

She flapped her hand at him; then taking a seat to the side of him, she said, “I’m going out to tea on

Wednesday.”

“Aye, where to?”

“The Hall, Lord Menton’s place.”

He turned to her so quickly that he ricked his neck, and the pain was evident in his face.

He gasped

before he said, “No kiddin’, lass?”

“No kiddin’, Mike.”

“Well, I’ll be damned! Lady Menton asked you?”

“Oh no, no, not Lady Menton, the one I was telling you about, the eccentric one. Lady Mary Ambers.”

“Oh her; the one you met on the train?”

“Yes; here’s the invitation.” She pulled the letter from her pocket and handed it to him, and as he read it

his face stretched in glee as he exclaimed, “Well, I’ll be damned! I’ve seen some

invitations in me time

but that beats all. She must be a character.”

“Yes, she is. I’m rather looking forward to meeting her again.”

“Does ... does Elaine know?”

“Yes. Yes, I told her.”

“How did she take it?”

He had poked his face towards her and she hesitated a moment before she smiled and

said, “Oh, she

advised me to refuse it.”

“Aye, she would. But she wouldn’t have given you that advice if she’d been included.

You go, me

lass. But mind, I’m going to tell you something.” He wagged his finger at her.

“If the conversation comes round to this house and me, likely you won’t come back here, because me

name’s mud, as was me father’s afore me. No, no, his name was darts, which means the

same, but it’s a

thicker kind, you know.” He jerked his head at her now, saying, “By! I won’t be able to wait until you

get back to hear all about it. But mind you keep your end up; don’t let them floor you.”

He now put his

head on one side and paused before he ended, “But I don’t think they could. Nor do I

think they would

want to; I don’t think they’d want to floor you, ‘cos you’re not prickly.”

“Oh, you don’t know me.”

“Don’t I? I think I do. I knew all about you within a few days of your coming. I know people, Betty, I

know people and’ he grinned mischievously at her now as he whispered, “ I know

something about you

that you try to keep hidden. “

“You do?” She was whispering back at him.

“Aye, I do. You’ve got a temper, but you’ve got it well under control. There’s two

Bettys, one under

the skin and one on top of it.”

She didn’t return his grin but she stared at him in for a moment in silence before looking away and

saying, “You see too much, Mike; you’re uncomfortable; you see too much.”

“Aw, lass’ he nearly upset himself from the chair as he reached out and grabbed her hand

“ I mean no

offence, lass. I wouldn’t offend you for the world. It was just that I wanted you to know that I recognise

the depth in you. You’re so damn pleasant to everybody that folks take you for granted.

You’re the oil

on the wheels that makes things run smoothly. You’re the hearty good sort. That’s on the outside. But

underneath, there’s you, the real one . I know you, you see, I know you. “

They were holding each other’s gaze, and he was also holding her wrist with one hand

and she was still

holding his arm with her other where she had tried to steady him. She swallowed deeply in her throat,

sniffed, blinked her eyes a number of times, then said briskly, “Come on; it’s about time you got yourself

down those stairs.”

After a moment’s hesitation he pulled himself to his feet, and, standing by her side, he laughed softly as

he said, “I’m stooped a bit, but I’m still taller than you.”

Again their gaze held, but she made no reply; she understood the meaning behind the