Justice Is a Woman (34 page)

floor as Elaine’s voice, raised to the pitch of

a scream, came to them. The words were unintelligible but that they were flowing on a wave of rage

was only too evident.

“He isn’t in? Our Joe isn’t in?”

“No; only Martin.”

“Go on down. See what she’s up to. By the way, does she know?”

“She knows I am pregnant but ... but not who the father is.”

“Well, look out for squalls when she does’ his voice was quiet, his words coming slowly

‘because

although she has no use for him herself she would do her damnedest to put a spoke in

your wheel.”

She had no doubt but what Mike said was true:

Yes, she’d put a spoke in her wheel if she could, but one thing she couldn’t prevent was the life that was

already inside her. No; that was hers, and nothing and no-one could take it away from her.

She had just stepped from the attic stairs onto the landing when she saw Elaine’s sitting-room door burst

open and Martin dash out and fly down the stairs.

Before she reached the door it was banged shut. She paused for a moment to stare at it, then hurried

after the boy.

When she reached the front door she saw him disappearing beyond the tennis court and

she stood for a

moment gazing in that direction, before she turned and looked back up the stairs. What had she said to

him? Likely thrown at him that she, Betty, was leaving, and the reason too, and in such a way that it

would appear dirty.

She knew Martin liked her, even loved her. Hadn’t he once said he wished she was his

mother? Over

the years she had allowed the thought of this to give her a secret satisfaction, which she would justify by

telling herself: And why shouldn’t he? because she had brought him up and loved him

unselfishly. And

that was the point: unselfishly.

She now ran down the steps and in the direction the boy had taken. He wasn’t near the greenhouses,

and he wasn’t with David, because she could see David working over near the strawberry bed.

Eventually she espied him sitting amid the roots of the big oak in the copse near the boundary.

She called softly as she approached him, saying, “Martin. Martin. What is it?” When she reached his

side he didn’t look up at her but, taking a bit of broken branch, he stubbed at the hard ground between

the roots; and when she knelt beside him and took his hand he turned his head away from her.

“What ... what was your mother saying to you?”

He shook his head, and when she pulled his face around towards her he muttered, “Oh,

Aunty Bett,”

and she said softly, “Tell me what she said. I I can explain.”

Now his head jerked up towards her as he said, “How can you? You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

“About Father.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and now she asked very quietly, “What about your father?”

He shook his head wildly and, pulling himself from her, he turned on to his side and, picking up the stick

again, he once more jabbed at the earth.

Now she gripped him firmly by the shoulders and pulled him around to face her,

demanding, “Tell me!

Martin! Everything. Now come along, tell me what she said about your father.”

The boy swallowed, blinked his eyelids rapidly, very much as she herself did when she was agitated,

then he muttered, “He’s bad.”

“Your father bad? Your father’s a good man. What did she say?”

“She ... she said I must never speak to Elizabeth again or ... or go out with her because ...”

“Elizabeth?” Betty almost shrieked, then drew in a deep breath of relief and flopped

down beside the

boy as she released it, and said, “What about Elizabeth? And ... and what’s it got to do with your

father?”

His head drooped on to his chest, as he muttered, “I ... I told her that I thought our school was going to

be evacuated and she said it was nonsense. And I said it wasn’t, because Elizabeth’s was being

evacuated too, and ... and she almost sprang on me. Aunty Bett.” He looked at her in

bewilderment

before going on, “She said I’d been seeing Elizabeth again after she’d told me I hadn’t to, and I

answered her back, saying. Well, it was impossible to come in the gate with Elizabeth and not speak to

her. Anyway, I... well, Aunty Bett, I ... I told her that I liked Elizabeth. And then I said something silly.”

His head drooped lower now, and

she waited until he muttered, “I... I said I’d always liked Elizabeth and .. and she was my girl. Lots of

fellows have girls, Aunty Bett, and Elizabeth’s pretty, and she likes me and ... and I like her. But . but I

shouldn’t have said it. Anyway I did. And then ... well, she went mad. Aunty Bett. She pushed me on

to the couch and held me down and ... and then she yelled something at me.”

She had her arms about him and was staring at the top of his head as she asked quietly,

“What did she

yell at you?”

“She said Elizabeth could ... could never be my girl that way; never anything like that, she said. She ...

she was gabbling. Then she took me by the shoulders and shook me and said that

Elizabeth was my

sister or my half-sister, and that Father was her father, and that Elizabeth’s mother was a bad woman.”

“Oh, my God!”

Betty now pulled herself to her feet and dragged up the boy with her, and she took him by the shoulders

and shook him as she said, “Now listen to me, Martin. They’re lies. Lies. Do you hear?

Elizabeth’s

mother and father love each other, and Elizabeth is their daughter.

Your father and David were brought up together when they were boys like you. He would never,

never—’ Now she was gulping in her throat and shaking her head, and again she said,

“Oh my God!”

Grabbing his hand now, she cried, “Come on back to the house; your father will be in

shortly; he’ll straighten all this out. And it wants straightening out. “

“No, no.” He resisted her tugging.

“I don’t want to see him. Aunty Bett.”

“You’ve got to, boy. I’m telling you that your mother doesn’t know what she’s saying; she’s ill.

Listen!” She turned her head to the side.

“There’s the car going up the drive. Come along.”

“No, no, Aunty Bett.”

She looked at him helplessly for a moment, then said, “Well, promise me one thing: that you’ll stay here

till I come back. Now promise me that.”

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “All right.”

She ran from him and between the trees, past the greenhouses, over the tennis court and she reached the

side of the drive as Joe was going in by the front door.

When she called to him he turned towards her, and she was gasping as she said, “Come

here a minute;

there’s something I must tell you.”

And, turning from him, she hurried into the courtyard and towards the garage.

Once inside, he asked anxiously, “What is it? What is it?”

“There’s ... there’s been ructions here this morning.”

“Oh.” He nodded.

“She’s found out?”

“About us? No; not everything. I ... I had a row with her. I told her I was leaving and ...

and about my

condition. I also told Mike. Then I heard her going for Martin. I’ve just come from him.

He’s over in

the wood; he’s in a dreadful

state. Joe—’ She put her hands out to him now and as he gripped them she said, “Now ...

now you

must try to keep your temper at least until you explain to the boy. Apparently he told Elaine that

Elizabeth was his girl; you know, as a boy would, and she screamed at him. She told him it was

impossible.” She now closed her own eyes and screwed them tight for a moment before

opening them

again and finishing in a rush, “She says you are Elizabeth’s father and that they are half-brother and

sister.”

He continued to look at her as if he wasn’t seeing her; then he said slowly, “You mean she ...?”

When it seemed impossible for him to state the matter in words she nodded slowly, then said, “Yes.

And he’s in the wood. He’s in a dreadful state;

you’d better go to him. He promised me he would stay there until I went back. “

He looked out of the garage door now, then turned his head to the side and said below his breath, “No,

no;’ then again, “ No, no; you bring him, Betty; I’m going in. “

“Joe! Joe! Please be careful.”

“I’ve been careful too long. Yes, that’s been my trouble; I’ve been careful too long.”

“Joe, don’t do anything you’ll be sorry for. Think ... think what it might mean.”

As he looked at her now his expression softened as he said, “I’ll think what it’ll mean, dear. Don’t

worry. Don’t worry. Fetch him.”

While she hurried across the yard he walked quickly towards the front door, his stride covering

the ground as if he were flying over it, so that he was through the hall and up the stairs within seconds.

When he thrust open the sitting-room door Elaine was standing in the middle of the room.

The sun was

glinting on her hair, taking the colour out of it; her face, her dress, all of her appeared like a pale flame, a

delicate, fragile flame that could be extinguished by the slight stir of a summer wind. But Joe didn’t see

the outer casing, he was looking at the woman underneath.

After closing the door he took a step forward, then stopped, and his Adam’s apple jerked spasmodically in his throat before he said, “So I’m Elizabeth’s father, am I?”

“You should know.” Her voice was high, yet it sounded like a thin whisper.

“You dirty-minded slut.” He moved another step towards her; and now she backed away

from him but,

her voice even higher now, she cried at him, “Don’t you dare call me dirty; you, above all people! You

had the nerve to bring that child into this house. Anybody who wanted proof had just to see your faces

together. As for dirty; huh! Dirty you say.

The blackie went and married her. That upset you, didn’t it? You couldn’t have him so you took his

wife. Or did you share her? “

The cry that escaped her as he grabbed her throat rang through the house, and when the door burst

open he had her pinned against the wall.

“Joe! Joe! My God! Let go. Let go.”

Of a sudden, he released his hold and stepped so hastily back that he almost knocked

Betty to the floor.

Elaine was leaning against the wall, her hands to her throat, her breath coming in painful gasps. Her head

was to the side and she was staring at Joe with a mixture of terror and hatred.

Joe now stood by the head of the couch. His body was bent forward, his arms hanging

limp, but his

gaze was directed straight onto Elaine;

yet he spoke to Betty, saying, “Take her upstairs to Father.”

“To Mike? But why?”

“You’ll find out in a minute. Just take her up, because ... because I don’t want to touch her again.”

A somewhat bemused Betty went towards Elaine and, gently taking her arm, she drew

her from the wall;

then, making a wide detour around Joe, she led her from the room.

Left alone, Joe turned towards the head of the couch, and, gripping it, he bent over it for a moment

before turning abruptly and going to the window. This he raised, and then he yelled out across the

garden, “David! David!” Then, louder still, “David! David!”

David came running through the gap in the hedge that bordered part of the drive, then stopped and,

looking up at the window, called, “What is it? Do you want me?”

“Come indoors.”

Over the distance they looked at each other;

then David said slowly, “What do you mean, come indoors?”

“You heard me. I said, come indoors, come upstairs.”

“Why?”

“You’ll know soon enough. Do as I tell you.”

David glanced about him; then, rubbing his hands tight across his mouth, he moved

slowly towards the

front door; and, for the first time in his life, he entered the house.

In the hall, he paused, looking about him, before making for the stairs and mounting them to where Joe

was standing at the top. And when they were face to face he said, “What is it? Why am I here?”

Joe made no answer, but, turning about, he said, “Come on.” And David followed him

along the

landing, up the steep stairs to the top floor and into the sitting-room, where Mike was standing with his

back to the window-sill.

Elaine was sitting half crouched forward on a chair, and Betty was standing behind it.

They all turned towards the door and the two men standing within it;

Joe, his face grim and almost purple with anger, David, standing very straight, his lips set tight, his eyes

directed straight across the room to where Mike stood.

And now Mike spoke.

“What’s brought this about, eh? Have ... have you all gone mad?”

Joe didn’t move from David’s side, but he looked straight at his father as he said, “Tell them what

relation David, here, is to you and to me.”

When Mike brought himself from the support of the window-sill, his stick wobbled under his hand

before he straightened himself as much as he could and growled, “What’s this? A

showdown you’re

wantin’?”

“That’s it; it’s a showdown I’m wanting. And not afore time.”

All their eyes turned on Mike now, but his were focused on the dark face that was staring at him from

across the room, and he spoke to it, saying, “It’s rather late in the day, isn’t it, to make a claim?”

“I’m making no claim.” The deep resonance in David’s voice at that moment seemed to

speak of his

coloured forebears.