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Authors: Yelena Kopylova

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Betty now watched the old lady lean back in her chair. She watched her eyes stretch, her nose stretch,

her mouth stretch. For the moment she seemed utterly lost for words. But only for the moment; and then

she said, “Well! Well! So you’re pregnant. I suppose at your age you look upon it as a sort of miracle.

And I’m not going to ask you who the father is; I’m going to tell you. It’s him, isn’t it?

Mr. Joe

Remington. Oh! Oh! I’ve seen it coming.”

“You haven’t, Lady Mary!”

“Don’t contradict me, girl. Yes, I have. He hasn’t come here year after year and dragged you away

just to look after his wife and his father, it was because he missed you. Well, what do you want me to

say? What a clever girl you are, eh?”

“No; all I want you to say is that you don’t think too badly of me.”

“Oh!” Lady Mary looked as if she were endeavouring to throw herself about but was

being impeded by

the arms of the chair.

“Think too badly of you? You should have done that years ago; but properly and after

you were

married.. Yet—’ Her restless thrashing movement stopped and she put out her hands and gripped those

of Betty, saying, “ If you had, what would I have done all these years without you? You know, you’ve

been like a daughter to me. But mind’ her voice had taken on its strident note again ‘a very neglectful

daughter, giving me only smatterings of your time, the rest to that ungrateful lot. But now’

—her voice dropped again ‘you’ve come home and you’ll be my daughter in truth and

I’ll have a

grandchild. “ She thumped her chest now with the flat of her hand.

“Yes! I’ll be a grand mama Oh! my dear.

Now, now. Don’t. Don’t. “

Betty had slid from the chair on to her knees and, her face now buried in the old lady’s lap, she gave

way to a storm of pent-up weeping; and Lady Mary held her but remained quiet, staring ahead while she

prayed in her own way, giving thanks to God for easing her loneliness and, moreover, for ensuring that

she wouldn’t die alone.

To Joe, the house seemed starkly empty. There was no activity in it.

There was activity everywhere else, in the towns, in the whole country, in the whole

world, but the house

seemed to have died. For most of the day only his father and Mary were in it; he himself went out in the

morning and didn’t return until six o’clock, when he would call at The Cottage and pick up Martin and

they would go back to the house together and have a scratch meal. And the meals were

scratch these

days.

Elaine had gone to London later on that day when so much had been revealed: she had

left the house

without speaking to anyone except Martin, and to him she had said, “I’m going up to

town to make

arrangements. I shall come back for you.” And that was a fortnight ago.

The boy now knew that David was his uncle and that his grandfather was also David’s

father. It had

also come to him during the past two weeks that, although he liked his Aunty Bett better than he did his

mother, he was very sorry for his mother. Yet he had never felt sorry for her before. He couldn’t

understand these feelings, only that nobody seemed to like her, and it was a pity, because she was

beautiful to look at, and she could be so nice when she liked. And too, she had always been nice to

him, except when he disobeyed her about seeing Elizabeth.

He knew that when she returned it would be to take him away with her and that he should tell his father

what she intended to do, yet at the same time he considered it unnecessary to do this because, as much

as he would like to please her, he couldn’t possibly leave his father and his grandfather and Elizabeth.

And he must tell her so, but in such a way that she wouldn’t be upset.

The boy now looked towards the door, and as Joe entered he greeted him: “Hello,

Father,” he said, and

Joe walked over to him and ruffled his head as he said, “Hello, son,” and again, “Hello, there,” as he now

ruffled Elizabeth’s head. Then turning to Hazel and David who were seated at the other side of the

tea-table, he said, “Well, that’s the end of that: Goodbye, Remington Wood Works.”

David rose slowly to his feet and went to the hob, from which he brought the teapot and poured out a

cup of tea. He pushed it towards Joe, who was now sitting at the table, saying quietly,

“When this is all

over you’ll likely start again.”

“On what?”

David didn’t answer, and Hazel asked, “Are you going to take Baxter’s offer of

manager?”

Joe looked at her, then nodded his head for a moment before replying, “Well, it goes very much against

the grain, but it’s either that or munitions.”

“Have they made up their mind what they are

3. 54

doing about the factory? Renting or buying? “ asked David now.

“Renting. They’re going to use it just as a storage place, but they’re buying the

equipment.” He lowered

his head and his voice was a mutter as he said, “I never thought it would come to this.”

“How is it they can keep going and you can’t?”

Again Joe looked towards—Hazel.

“Big government contracts,” he said, ‘and Baxter’s got his fingers in so many pies. Well’

he smiled

weakly “I suppose I’ll have to swallow my pride and take it. Some would say I’m lucky to get the

chance of running a similar business only twenty times bigger than my own was.” He

sighed, drank the

rest of his tea, then rose to his feet, saying, “Come on, young man. Mary will be fuming at the mouth

because the meal will be getting cold ... or shrivelling up in the oven. Either way.” He looked at the table.

“You haven’t been eating here, have you?”

“He just had a bite,” put in Hazel, laughing.

‘ I don’t know where you put it. “ Joe now smiled at his son, and Martin answered, “ I’m always

hungry, Father. Mary says I’m a growing lad. “

They were all laughing together when the sound of a car coming in through the gates

checked them, and

David, moving quickly to the window, looked through the curtains, then back at Joe, and after their

glance had held for a moment Joe said, “Elaine?”

David nodded briefly, and Joe, now turning quickly to Martin, commanded, “Stay here!

Don’t come up

for a while.” Then he looked over his

shoulder towards David, adding, “Send him back in about an hour.”

“Father ...”

“Look, Martin, don’t argue.”

“I... I wasn’t going to. Father, I was only going to say ...” The boy shook his head and looked down.

“What?”

Martin glanced from one to the other; then, again shaking his head, he said, “It doesn’t matter. It

doesn’t matter.”

Joe went swiftly out and up the drive. A taxi was turning about. In the hall he turned towards the stairs,

then went swiftly to the drawing-room and opened the door. She wasn’t there. A few

minutes later he

unceremoniously thrust open her bedroom door and saw her sitting at the dressing-table.

Her coat and

hat were lying on a chair to the side of her and she was dabbing her face with a pad of cotton wool.

“So you’ve come back.”

There was a moment’s pause before she answered very calmly, “For a short while.”

“Long or short, we’ve got to talk.”

He moved slowly now to the middle of the room where he could see her reflection

through the mirror,

and she nodded at him, saying, “Yes, as you say, we’ve got to talk. But what we’ve both got to say to

each other won’t take long. I came back for one purpose, to fetch Martin.”

“The hell you did!” He laughed mirthlessly, and the sound brought her swinging round

on the stool;

but her voice was still calm as she repeated, “Yes, the hell I did. If you think that I’m going to let him be

brought up under the influence of your father and his half-caste son, not to mention you, you’re

mistaken.”

“And what grounds would you put forward for taking him away from me?”

“Adultery. Oh, I know all about your trips to Newcastle.”

His eyebrows moved up slightly before he said, “As I do about your trips to London.”

“You can’t prove anything about my trips to London; I stay with my uncle.”

“Who is stone-deaf and almost blind and whose only servant is a daily.”

She shook her head.

“You can prove nothing.”

“I can and I’m determined to do so, because I want a divorce.”

The muscles of her face under the wrinkled skin tightened; then she laughed as she

exclaimed, “You’ve

got some hope. Let me tell you here and now I’ll never divorce you, or let you divorce me. What I will

do, though, is grant you a separation if I’m amply compensated for my trouble and have custody of our

boy.”

“I want a divorce, Elaine, and I mean to have it.” He was spacing each word now.

“I’m about to become the father of a child and I want to give it my name.”

Her brows puckered into a frown.

“It’s a wonder,” he went on, ‘that with your astute little brain for digging into things, you didn’t

guess when Betty told you she was going to have a child. “

Slowly her entire body arched, the upper half leaning backwards as if from a blow. Her mouth, which

was still beautiful, opened to its widest extent, then slowly closed, and with it her eyes narrowed almost

to slits as she spat out at him, “You ... you and her! My God! The sneaking, two-faced sanctimonious

bitch!”

“You could be speaking of yourself, Elaine; at least, two-faced and sneaking bitch

describes you to a T;

but you’ve never been sanctimonious, I’ll grant you that.”

Her shoulders, from being pressed back, now hunched themselves forward and she thrust out her head

towards him as she said, “I hate you. Do you know that ? I hate and loathe you. And this has clinched

it: I’ll never give you a divorce as long as you live; she can have your bastard, and good luck to her, but

she’ll never have your name.”

“No? I think she will. If you want to save yourself from going to court and facing a

charge of murder

then I think you’ll see eye to eye with me over this matter, Elaine.”

Her body was still bent forward, but now she was looking at him in amazement as he said slowly, “You

shouldn’t look so surprised, for you know what I’m referring to; you killed the child, didn’t you?”

She stepped back against the dressing-table stool and almost overbalanced: then putting her hand out,

she gripped the edge of it and lowered herself

down on to the seat before saying, “You’re mad.”

“No, no, I’m not mad, and you know it. But it wouldn’t be my word against yours, it

would be Dr.

Levey’s.”

Again her face was screwed up and she mouthed, “Dr. Levey?”

“Yes, Dr. Levey. Perhaps you’ve noticed Martin hasn’t screamed in his sleep for some

time now. Dr.

Levey put him under hypnosis, and the boy relived the scene when he saw you; the black lady, he calls

you. You remember the negligee? Strange;

you never wore it after that night, did you? What became of it? “

She was now gripping the front neckline of her silk dress and she gave a silly laugh as she said, “Who

would believe that? Hypnotism. They can make you say anything.”

He ignored her remark, but said, “Remember Nellie? She stated flatly that the boy would never have

been able to unhook the side of the cot.

And we’re forgetting Betty, of course. “

The name seemed to banish her fear for the moment and she brought her teeth grinding

together as she

cried, “Betty! Betty! I don’t know who I hate the more, you or her.”

“And that’s odd, because we’re the two people who have done most for you in your life.

You used her

and you used me; in fact, you made use of her long before you met me.”

“And in compensation you’ve given her a baby, is that it ? Well, I suppose she needs

compensation.

Did you look at her face when you were at it?”

His jaws were tight. For a moment he couldn’t answer her, but when he did what he said was, “Yes, all

the while, and I found it more beautiful than I ever found yours.”

Her hand, now groping backwards, gripped the heavy-silver hand-mirror and the next

minute it was

flying through the air; and when it struck the mirror above the mantelpiece the glass splattered about him.

He didn’t move, but stood perfectly still for a moment; his breath had caught in his throat and he seemed

to be holding it endlessly. Then he moved slowly towards the door, all the time keeping his eyes on her

where she stood supporting herself against the side of the dressing-table, and when he reached it, he said,

“Get out, and now.

You’ll be hearing from me through my solicitors. “

He opened the door, then closed it quickly behind him, so preventing the matching silver brush from

coming in contact with his head.

He walked slowly up to the second floor. His father would have heard the commotion and would Want

to know the reason for it. When he opened the door he found the sitting-room empty, and when he

stood in the doorway of the workshop he was amazed to see that the shelves along the

side wall that had

held dozens of miniature models of all descriptions were bare. Some of the models were on the long

wooden carpenter’s bench that ran down the centre of the room; others, he noticed, were in boxes.

His father was sitting on a high stool towards the end of the bench, and he turned and looked towards

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