Justice Is a Woman (31 page)

statement, his father’s voice yelled in his head as it had done to his face yesterday: “It would have taken

the strength of a horse to haul a man up that slope, then half carry or drag him along the road to the

house. But Betty’s no horse: inside that big frame of hers is a woman, a sensitive,

wonderful woman, and

if anything happens to her I’ll never forgive you, lad.”

And if anything happened to her he’d never forgive himself. Life was pretty grey now, but without Betty

about the house he knew he would experience a feeling of desolation such as he had not known

before; not even Elaine’s going, by desertion or death, would affect him in the same way as would

Betty’s. And this was odd, hardly understandable.

The door opened and he lifted his head to see Martin standing there.

The boy came hurriedly towards him now, saying, “Mary wouldn’t let me go in to see

Aunty Bett,

Father. I would have been quiet, I would have just sat .. I ...”

Joe got to his feet and put his hand on the boy’s head, saying, “Your Aunt Betty’s ill, very ill; she mustn’t

be disturbed in any way.”

“Is ... is she going to die?”

“Oh. Oh, no! No.” Joe’s tone ridiculed the question.

“Then why was Ella ... I mean Jane ... Oh, anyway, why was she crying in the hall just now?”

“Oh.” Joe turned away, picked up his glass from the table, and drained it before he said,

“You know

Ella: she cries at weddings, and when she goes to the pictures ... and when she’s tired, and she’s very

tired now. And so is Mary.” He again put his hand onto his son’s head, adding, “So don’t trouble

them. But’ he nodded at his son now “ I tell you what you could do: you could help in the kitchen;

I’m sure Mary will give you something to do; or you could go down to David; he’s

always glad of a

hand. “

The boy looked up at his father for a moment, then said slowly, “I’ll . I’ll stay in the house, Father.”

“Very well. Go and tell Mary you’ll be her second pair of legs.” He smiled wanly. But the boy

didn’t return his smile, he simply turned and walked slowly out of the room

The doctor called again at four o’clock, and when he came out of the room he stood on the landing,

shaking his head at Joe as he said, “She’s in a very low state; but she’s got a strong constitution. Let’s

hope it’s strong enough.” Then he added, “She mustn’t be left, you understand that ? I ...

I think you

should have a night nurse.”

“I was thinking about that too. But I’m expecting my wife back tonight, and we should be able to

manage then. But if for some reason she doesn’t return, I’ll see about a nurse first thing in the morning.

In the meantime, I’ll stay with her all tonight. “

The doctor looked at him closely for a moment.

“She needs a woman there,” he said; ‘she mustn’t be left lying in the wet bedclothes. “

“Well’ he hesitated ‘there’s Mary and Ella;

one or the other will be with me. And .. and I’m not helpless; I’ve helped to see to her over the last few

days. “

As Dr. Pearce went down the stairs he asked over his shoulder, “Can’t you get in touch with your

wife? They’re sisters, aren’t they? She should be here.”

“I’ve tried numerous times today, but I couldn’t get a reply, which makes me think she’s on her way

back. She’s been staying with her uncle in London.”

The doctor made no further comment, but simply made a small nodding motion with his

head, continuing

even as he went out of the front door, which

Joe interpreted as disapproval, whether of him not engaging a nurse before now, or of the fact that

Elaine wasn’t here when she was needed, he didn’t know.

It was three o’clock in the morning. The room was hot, airless, and the only sound was of Betty’s

painful breathing. The bedclothes rose and fell into a half circle about her neck; her face, right up to the

roots of her hair, was flushed a deep pink, and over it, from out of her hair, ran thin rivulets of water.

Joe alternated wiping her face down with a soft towel with stroking her hair back from her forehead and

spreading it over the pillow;

occasionally he would put his hand inside the bedclothes and lay it across her breastbone, for this gave

him an indication of how much her body was still sweating. He had already changed the sheets twice

since eleven o’clock, from which time he had been alone with her, having made Mary

and Ella go to bed,

promising them he would call if he should need them. As for his father, he knew that he was still up, for

from time to time he could hear the thump of his stick on the floor above.

“Joe

“Yes, dear?” He brought his face above hers.

“Joe

Her voice was a mere croak, and it was evident that it was painful for her to speak.

“Do you want a drink?” He went to move from the bed and she made a slight motion with her

hand, then lay staring at him as her breast heaved painfully.

When a few minutes later he put his hand inside the clothes again the sweat of her body felt cold and

when he said softly, “I’ll have to change you,” she made no sign one way or the other.

Going to the clothes-horse that stood to the side of the fireplace, he took from it a nightdress and two

sheets; and now, keeping the eiderdown and blankets over her, he slowly and gently

manipulated the wet

sheets from under and above her;

then, following Mary’s method of starting from the bottom of the bed and unrolling the clean sheet

upwards, he eased her legs over it, then her buttocks, then, putting his arm about her shoulders, he

brought her upwards before pulling the sheet into place. The placing of the top sheet was much easier to

accomplish. But now he had to change her nightdress.

As with the sheets he had already changed it twice before, and now, as then, she made no protest

whatever. He could, as it were, have been performing the duty every night of her life, so seemingly

indifferent was she to his hands on her bare flesh.

Decorously he had to pull her nightdress up from her body underneath the bedclothes,

and it was only

her breasts that he looked upon. They were firm and rounded, and a section of his mind made him

wonder if he were the only man who had seen them.

The pillowcases changed, he laid her gently back, saying, “There now.

Is that better? “

She did not try to answer, but just continued to look at him. After bundling the sodden bedclothes into

the clothes basket he washed his hands and rolled down his shirt sleeves; then returned to the bed and,

taking her hand, he stroked it gently, and when the fingers gripped his he looked at her enquiringly. And

again she gasped, “Joe

“Yes, dear?”

“Joe I’m ... I’m going to die.”

He gulped in his throat, moved his chin slowly down into the open neck of his shirt

before he said, “No,

no, Betty.”

“Yes ... Joe.”

His throat was too tight for speech. There was a burning sting at the back of his eyes.

“Joe I... I want to tell you something.” The bedclothes heaved, even higher now.

“I can ... I can tell you now.” Her eyes were fixed tight on him.

“I ... I love you ... Joe. I’ve ... I’ve loved, I’ve always loved you. I can tell you now, because it doesn’t

matter ... any more ... hurting no-one.”

His mouth was open, his face stretched and he was silent; it was as if everything within him had

stopped. He saw her face swollen red and sweaty, her long hair like a dark halo, a

foreboding halo, a

foreboding halo around her.

The stillness within him was gradually being probed. What had she said? She had said

she loved him,

she had always loved him. Betty had loved him. There flashed into his mind that

particular night years

ago when thought of her had presented a way of easing his starved body.

Then, even then,

he had known something, felt something. All these years she had been in this house with him and not a

sign. Oh dear God! Oh, Betty. Betty.

He was bending over her. Her hand held between his was pressed into his chest. His head was moving

slowly. Words were pouring from his mind but he couldn’t get them into his mouth for

the blockage in

his throat was choking him.

Slowly he bent forward until his face was half buried in the pillow, his cheek touching hers, and when,

after a moment, he turned his head his lips traced her burning brow, then moved

downwards towards her

mouth, and he kissed her. Now raising himself above her, he slipped his arm under her shoulders; then

turning her heavy body towards him, he pleaded, “Stay with me, Betty. I ... I need you.

I ... I want

you.”

When she moved her hand the slightest amount, as if in denial, his voice coming deep

now and strong, he

said, “Believe me. Believe me, Betty, I do want you. Not as before, for the house and everybody in it,

but for me. I I want you at this ^moment as I’ve never wanted anything in my life before.

Do you hear

me? You’ve got to believe me, Betty. You’re the one, you’re the real one, you’re the one I need.

It’s as if I’ve been blind for years. Yet not so blind. Listen ..

Listen. “ He made a small movement with his arm, then drew her nearer to him, “ Seven, eight years ago

I was for asking you, I was, I was. “

Her breathing became agitated, but her face moved into the semblance of a smile and she lifted her hand and touched his cheek; and, when his tears splashed over her fingers, she gasped,

“Oh.J... oe!Joe

Now laying her head back on the pillow, he swallowed deeply before he said brokenly,

“Fight, Betty,

fight. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Only fight! Don’t go ... You can’t go now, you can’t!”

She lay looking at him for a moment before she gasped, “I can’t, can I? I can’t ... go now.”

It was not until early April 1939 that Betty went out of the house for the first time. The drugs that she

had taken to quell the pneumonia had left side-effects: her bowels would not retain the food and she

became the victim of constant diarrhoea. Only now, during the third week since she had been out of

bed, was she able to travel: and Joe was about to take her to stay with Lady Ambers.

She had said goodbye to Mary and Ella, and to Martin before he went to school; she had made a slow

journey up the attic stairs to Mike, and he had held her hands and said, “Promise me

you’ll come back,

lass.”

And she had replied with quiet emphasis, “Oh, I’ll come back, Mike.

Never fear, I’ll come back. “ She could have added, “ Where else would I stay but where my heart is?

“

She had never known such happiness in her life before. From that night when he had

stopped her from

going over the border into what she thought of as release and peace at last, Joe had come no closer to

her than to hold her hand, because Elaine had come back on the Saturday and the nurse had taken over

the night duty. After that there was never a time when they were alone together. But it didn’t matter; her

heart was full of him and she

knew with amazing certainty that a miracle had happened and that his heart was full of her.

She didn’t know how it had come about, she didn’t even bother to question, she was still so very weak.

She was content .. yet content wasn’t the right word to fit the thankfulness in her for life as it looked to

her now.

In the hall, when Elaine kissed her and said, “Come back strong,” she knew that Elaine didn’t care

whether she came back or not. Elaine had no more use for her; in fact, she hadn’t had any use for her

for a long time, not since she had challenged her with the fact that her frequent visits to London were to

meet Lionel Harris. She had come upon Elaine’s secret on one of her rare visits to town.

Another

cousin, Turnbull Hughes-Burton’s only son, had died, and she and Elaine had gone up to attend the

funeral, and it was during this short stay in London that she saw Elaine and Lionel Harris together; and, as

she’d said to Elaine, a blind man could see their meeting wasn’t merely that of friends, even friends who

weren’t supposed to have seen each other for years.

Anyway, now she was leaving them all behind, at least for a time; and for the next few hours she would

be alone with Joe.

When Joe had seated her in the back of the car, tucked the rug around her and had taken his position

behind the wheel, he did not turn and wave to Elaine, where she stood at the top of the steps, but as he

passed the corner of the house he put his hand out of the car and raised it upwards

knowing that his father would be watching.

He knew that they would hardly have got out of the drive before Elaine would be packing for her

journey to London. These past weeks must have been a terrible trial to her, and at times he had been

human enough to enjoy her agony; he had even wanted to confront her with his

knowledge, so as to let

her see she wasn’t as clever as she thought, nor he as gullible as she imagined; and no doubt he would

have done this long before now if it wasn’t for what had taken place between Betty and himself.

They were well out of the town and on a deserted road when Betty leaned forward and

said, “Let me sit

in front, Joe.”

He slowly pulled the car to a stop and, turning and looking back at her, he said, “You won’t be able to

stretch your legs here.”

This statement was followed by a silence while they stared at each other; then with a swift movement, he