Authors: Yelena Kopylova
that would provide her ..."
The major's voice trailed away, and
Charlie, his jaw bones working hard against the skin,
snapped, "That's a concoction on her part. I've
told her I'll take the matter to court, a high
court, if she attempts to make that plea because it's
a lie."
Again they were staring at each other. Then Charlie
dared to look his superior from
top to toe and back to the top again before saying slowly,
"But this isn't a lie, is it?" and turning
abruptly, he marched down the room.
"Wait, please. Wait."
Charlie turned his head to look over his shoulder
and the answer he gave to the major was, "Tell her she'll be hearing from my solicitor."
He had closed the front door when he heard
her calling his name, and he was out and going through the gate when the front door opened again and she cried,
"Charlie! Charlie! Wait." But he walked on,
taking no heed.
It was strange, he was burning with anger and
humiliation yet he was experiencing a sort of
elation. For the first time since he had know her, he
felt on top. Had she ever run after him before
calling him back with a plea in her voice,
"Charlie! Charlie! Wait!"? She was scared, and so was her major. My God! the major. And they
said he was a decent bloke an' all, well
liked. In a way he could feel sorry for him, but
he wasn't going to let pity baulk him in this
case; oh no, no, he had a handle, and by God!
he was going to use it.
She had been naked, stark naked . , . both
of them. She had no shame. But then he must
remember she liked being naked. How many men had she
sported with before the major, and in the romantic glow of the fire in the sitting-room?
He jumped on a bus that took him over the
bridge into Gateshead and as he walked towards
Nellie's house he was asking himself who would get the
first move in? In a matter of hours, in fact as
soon as he returned to camp, he could probably
find himself singled out from the platoon and packed off to France, no uncertainty, no hanging about. . . .
Nellie was definitely at home. Her voice
came to him as he knocked on the door. She was
singing "If You were the Only Girl in the World", and as she opened the door she flung one arm wide and,
her head back, she sang at him, "If you were the
only boy in the world and I were the only
girl". Her voice trailed away, her chin
lowered, and she exclaimed, "Charlie! Charlie!
Oh Charlie!" Putting out her hand, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room. "I... I thought you were some friends; I'm expecting some friends. Come and sit down, come and sit down. Where've you been all this
time?"
He allowed himself to be pulled towards the fire and for a moment the sight she presented blotted out for him the
last hour; Nellie was drunk.
"Sit down, sit down. T . . . take your
coat off. Here, s'let me help you."
Her speech was slurred, and as she reached up
to his shoulders and went to tug at his coat he took
hold of her hands, andwitha slight push caused her
to sit down with a plop on the couch. The effect on
her was almost the same as if he had douched her face
with cold water for she lay back, opened her mouth
wide, gasped and then said, "I... I know what
you're thinkin', and you're right, I'm drunk.
Well, everybody's got to have something. What did you
come for anyway? You never show your face for weeks
on end, then you turn up uninvited, yes,
uninvited,"" She brought herself up from the back of the couch. "An5 I'm expectin" friends."
Suddenly she was yelling at him, "Don't look
at me like that, Charlie MacFell! Keep those
looks for your wife; she earns them, I don't.
The only thing I do is drink. I know what you
think. I know what you think." She hitched herself to the edge of the couch now.
When he shouted at her, "Be quiet!
Nellie.
For God's sake be quiet!" she cried back at
him, "Why should I be quiet? This is my own house
an' I can do what I like in it. But . . . but let
me tell you something, Charlie MacFell!" She was
now wagging her finger up at him. "I don't do what you think I do in it. No, I don't. I'm not like
me sister, I'm no whore."
"Nettie!"
"Oh, you can say Nellie like that, but I know
I'm speaking the truth, and you know I'm speakin' the
truth. An' ... an' you know something, Charlie?"
her voice dropped now. "I'm speaking the truth
when I tell you I'm . . . I'm not that kind. You
know what I mean. You know what I mean. I'm a
fool, I'm a bloody fool, Charlie. Pals,
I say to them; that's all I want to be, pals.
They can come whenever they like, have a drink,
somethin' to eat an' a laugh, an' they respect
me. Yes, they do. But they think I'm odd.
An...' an' it's all your fault." Her body
bending now almost double, she began to cry.
God, what a night! What a day! What a
life! What a bloody life!
"Nellie! stop it. Sit up and listen to me."
His tone was quiet now.
She sat up and he put his arm around her
shoulders, and like a child now she turned to him and lay against his chest, and her body shook with her sobbing and the more he tried to console her the worse it seemed to get.
"Nellie! give over. Come on now, no more."
When her crying subsided she pulled herself away
from him. Her body was still shaking and she was muttering something when there came a ring on the bell, and now she looked over the top of the couch towards the door and
groaned, "Oh no!"
He got to his feet and went to the door, but
having opened it kept fast hold of it as he faced
the two visitors.
"Miss Chapman isn't well; she's sorry,
she'll see you another time."
"What?"
"I said Miss Chapman isn't
well; she'll see you another time." He addressed
the man who had spoken.
"She invited us around for eight."
"She may have done, but she can't see you tonight."
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm ... I'm her brother."
"Ger out of me way!" They both advanced on him at once and he was knocked from the door.
"What's your game, anyway, she's got no
brother?"
Still eyeing him, they hurried up the room to where
Nellie sat on the couch with her face turned from
them.
"What's he done to you, lass?"
"Nothing, Roy, nothing."
"He's not your brother, is he?"
"He's . . . he's my brother-in-law, the
one I told you about, the farmer."
"Well, what's he done to upset you like this?"
The two men were staring hard at Charlie now, and
he, staring as hard back at them, said, "I came
to tell her her father is ill, dying, and that if she
wants to see him alive she'd better go as soon
as possible."
He turned his gaze down to Nellie.
She was staring up at him, her lips apart, her eyes
wide.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Nellie,
we didn't know. Only you did ask us round."
Nellie now looked up into the face of the young
fellow who was bending over her and she said, "Yes, Alec; I... I know I did. I'm sorry.
Another time."
"Aye, another time."
"Sorry, chum"-one after the other they
nodded at Charlie-"our mistake. Be seein' you,
Nellie. Ta-rah."
It wasn't until Charlie closed the door on
them that he realized they were both sergeants and the rueful thought crossed his mind that he was certainly combating the higher ranks tonight all right.
When he returned to the fire, Nellie, her
hands joined between her knees now and looking like a
schoolgirl who had been caught out in some
misdemeanour, said, "Was that true?"
"Yes."
"How d'you know?"
"I had to go over to the farm today to settle things with Betty because there's a rumour we may be off soon,
and your mother got word that I was there and she
came across. She was about to send someone in to you but she asked if I would bring the message."
"Does . . . does Victoria know?"
He wetted his lips and swallowed deeply before
answering, "Yes, yes, she knows."
"Is ... is she going straight across?"
He turned from her as he answered, "I doubt it
tonight."
"Did . . . did you row?"
"I wouldn't say we rowed. Look . . . shall I
make you some coffee?"
"Yes. Yes, please."
He went into the little kitchen and lit the gas and put the kettle on and looked around until he found some
coffee. Everything, he noticed, was scrupulously
clean and tidy; she might have slipped in some ways,
but she still kept her place spotless.
He took some time to make the coffee and when he
carried it into the sitting-room she was coming out of the bedroom. He noticed that she had combed her hair and
powdered her face.
They sat side by side on the couch silently
sipping at the coffee, and it wasn't until she had
almost finished the cupful that she spoke. "If anything happens to Father, Mother '11 crumble
away."
"I shouldn't think so; your mother's strong."
"Not strong enough to live on her own. She'll want me back there, but I couldn't go, Charlie, I
couldn't live there again."
"You'd be better off there than you are here."
"How do you make that out? There's nothing there for anybody, except for those who've got a man by their
side and . . . and children. And what men are there left there?
A woman needs a man. Yes, she does,
Charlie, she needs a man, not men, just one man."
Her voice now was throaty and tired sounding.
He turned and glanced at her for a moment before
looking back into the fire and saying, "Very few
women, from what I can gather, are satisfied with one
man."
"She's made you bitter."
He gave her no answer, and again there was silence
between them until she asked, "Is it true what you said about being posted?"
"Yes, as far as rumours go, it's true."
"Will you let me know where you are?"
"Yes"-he smiled at her now-"I'll let you know."
"If the rumours are just rumours, will. . . will you come and see me again, Charlie?"
"Yes, yes, of course, Nellie, yes.
"Promise?"
"I promise.
"And . . . and if you're going to be sent over
there, is there some way you'll let me know?"
"Yes, yes, of course. I'll drop you a
line." And now he looked at his watch and said,
"I'll have to be off."
"Must you, Charlie? Couldn't you stay a
57rter-than
(J
bit longer?" She was gripping both his hands now, and he found that he had to look at them because he dare not look into her face.
"We've . . . we've got to be in by ten."
"Yes, yes." She released his hands quickly and got to her feet. He too rose and got into his
coat, and with his cap in his hand he walked slowly
towards the door, she by his side.
"Bye-bye, Nellie."
"I might never see you again, Charlie."
"Aw, you'll see me again, Nellie,
never fear."
As he bent down to kiss her, her arms came
round his neck and her lips were pressed fiercely
to his mouth. For an instant he returned the
pressure of the kiss and held her tightly to him;
then he opened the door and was gone.
In the street once again, he walked rapidly,
his mind in a whirl now, but one question that had pushed itself to the forefront he was answering loudly: No, no! that
couldn't be, he didn't think of Nellie that way.
But she thought that way of him.
She was still tipsy.
No, she had sobered up; and anyway he had
known all along how she felt. But that
hadn't mattered as long as he knew how he felt.
And now he didn't know how he felt. God! what
a situation.
And where was he going to spend the night? He couldn't
go back to the camp because they would think he was barmy. .
. . The Y.m.c.a. Huh! it was funny. A
house in the country, a house in Newcastle, his
sister-in-law's place, and he had to go and spend
perhaps one of the last nights before he went overseas in the Y.m.c.a.
He could go back and stay with Nellie.
Don't be such a bloody fool! What did he
think would happen if he went back there tonight?
Wasn't he in enough trouble? In any case, he had
already lied to her he was to be in by ten. The best thing he could do was to get settled down somewhere and think over what he meant to do about his wife and her top brass
friend.
He got on a bus, walked to a front seat,
paid his fare, and was staring out of the window into the dark night when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He
turned to look at a young woman who was saying to him,
"It's you, Charlie, isn't it?"
As he twisted further round in his seat and said,
"Why, Polly!" his thoughts gabbled at
him. It only needed his mother to rise from the grave and they'd be all here, all the women in his life, not one
of whom had brought him pleasure. But to come across
Polly of all people tonight! And she wasn't the Polly
he remembered. She was so much older, fatter,