‘I’ve got everything sorted out,’ Luke said, recounting the trying hour he’d spent in the Wherry household. He had used flattery on John Wherry’s spiritual values to achieve Beth’s assistance in the children’s care, agreeing to have the three children baptised soon and attend Sunday School; Jessie need not know about that. Luke had then been given a bonus when Mrs Wherry offered to take Marylyn into her home every day while Rex and Molly were at school.
Jo took his hand. ‘I knew you would do it, Luke.’ She believed he was a good man, his faults brought about by the cruelty and selfish standards of his mother. Jo knew what a detrimental effect a rotten, unloving mother could have on a person’s life.
Relieved that she felt proud of him, even though he did not really deserve it, Luke was confident at last about the future. He went to the rope ladder and called for Rex and Molly to come down.
Jo looked about for Marylyn. The baby was lying on her front in a cradle, straining to lift her head. No doubt, the little mite spent nearly every minute of every day in there, lacking the stimulation and the warmth of love. But she was well wrapped up and now would have the benefit of Beth or Mrs Wherry’s daily care. Jo picked Marylyn up.
To Luke’s horror, it wasn’t Rex and Molly who descended to the lunch table he had prepared for them and Jo. Despite his protests, Jessie jerked herself down the rope ladder and pushed him out of her way. Then Jo was subjected to open hostility from her glassy eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Jo. I didn’t want you to meet her.’
‘It’s all right, Luke. Good afternoon, Mrs Vigus.’ Jo stared directly into the drunkard’s prematurely wrinkled face, bravely ignoring the woman’s foul odours.
‘Miss Vigus,’ Jessie corrected her rancorously, teetering towards Jo on bare feet. She had already consumed half her daily liquid diet. ‘I never was married. All my brats are bastards.’
‘This is Miss Venner, the kids’ teacher. So mind you keep a civil tongue in your head,’ Luke hissed, growing restless as if he was short of breath, the effect of his mother’s presence.
‘Whatsh she d-doin’ here?’ Jessie’s words came out slurred and she was forced to whip out a hand and press it against the wall to prevent herself tumbling to the floor.
‘I’m sorry,’ Luke repeated to Jo, utterly embarrassed she was witnessing Jessie at her worst. ‘I’m afraid we won’t get no sense out her today.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Jo reassured him.
Jo was suddenly nearly pulled off balance as she was grabbed by a very unsteady Jessie. ‘You come to t-tell me off ’bout the kids?’
‘No, I have not,’ Jo said harshly, shaking Jessie off, revolted at her touch. ‘I’m here to encourage Rex and Molly that the school has something to offer them. I suggest you return upstairs and get dressed, Miss Vigus.’
‘Why? Don’t I look good enough for ’ee?’ Jessie cackled. Leaning against the wall, she opened her blue dressing gown, which was filthy because she’d refused to let Beth wash it, and revealed flesh that looked near the state of mummification. The stench from her intensified unbearably. It was hard to believe she was in her early forties.
Jo felt sickened; Lew had gone with her. Although Marylyn had been starving, she thanked God the beastly woman obviously had no milk. The thought of the tiny baby she was holding in her arms suckling from those pendulous, withered breasts turned her stomach. Jo understood why Luke hated every moment he spent under his mother’s roof.
The gin and lack of food took their toll on Jessie. Shambling to the couch she collapsed on to it, fell into a deep sleep and snored loudly, open-mouthed.
‘My God.’ Luke ran his hands through his hair in despair.
There was a hammering on the front door. Luke stopped himself from uttering an obscenity out of sheer frustration.
‘What do you want?’ he snapped at Davey Penoble, on the doorstep. ‘I’ve paid my stable rent.’
‘It isn’t that,’ Davey answered quietly, but as if he had something sour in his mouth. ‘Your mother hasn’t paid me rent on the cottage for ages. You had plenty of money to splash out in the pub last night. Perhaps you can do the right thing by me before you sneak off again.’
Digging his hand into his trouser pocket, Luke produced some notes. ‘Pay rent for this miserable place? You’ve got a flaming nerve. You haven’t done any upkeep on the dump for years.’
‘There wouldn’t be any point, would there? I’ll do the necessary renovations when the cottage has been made habitable again, not that I believe that’ll ever happen,’ Davey retorted. ‘But to be fair, I dropped the rent accordingly a while ago. Jessie owes me seven pounds, eight and six.’
Counting out ten pounds Luke slapped the money down on Davey’s palm. ‘You’ve got what you wanted, now clear off!’
Davey bent his head in under the door frame. ‘I’m sorry you’ve heard all this, Miss Venner.’
‘The teacher and I are having a private conversation.’ Luke pushed Davey away from the door and slammed it on him.
He sank forward, pressing his forehead against the door, too ashamed to turn round and face Jo.
Jo put Marylyn back into her cradle and went to him. ‘Luke, what is it?’
‘You shouldn’t get involved with me. You can see how things are.’
‘Were, Luke, how things were. And it wasn’t all your fault. I can see that now. You’ve sorted things out, remember. There’s only the future now to look forward to. We’ll both work hard to make the children’s lives worth living. Do you want me to leave?’
‘No.’ Turning shakily, he worked up a smile. ‘Stay, I like having you around.’
‘I like being with you.’
‘Good. Well, let’s eat, for the sake of the kids.’
Before returning to the school, Jo drank the tea and ate ham sandwiches Luke made to the accompaniment of Jessie’s dissipated breathing and Rex and Molly’s suspicious silence. She told the children she was looking forward to having them in her class the next day. Luke bantered a lot, but his usual warmth and light-heartedness were missing.
When Jessie woke up she had no memory of there being a visitor to her home. She took a swig from her best love and sniggered at Luke.
Leaping across the room, he hissed at her ugly, mocking face, ‘Just don’t say a word. Not one word.’
Chapter Fifteen
Dawn was a long way off. Sounds of torment convulsed the schoolhouse. Disturbed by the groans, the cries of utter wretchedness, Sally lay listening in her own bed as Marcus fought demons again in his sleep. Many times she had asked him what his nightmares were about, but he would never say. Sally was glad Mrs Lidgey insisted on taking a sleeping draught every night to escape the pain in her back. She would be distressed to hear her son in such anguish.
Lighting her lamp, Sally padded across the shabby landing to her lover. Marcus was lying on his back, the bed covers wrested off his sweat-soaked naked body, his head jerking on the pillow, hands clenching the bottom sheet. Leaning over him, she shook him violently. It always took an effort to rouse him when he was like this.
Finally, he awoke, shuddering, muttering pathetically. Grasping her, he clung to her for comfort, almost as if he were a child and she his mother.
Closing her eyes to bear the pain of his terrible grip, Sally stroked his shoulders and wet hair. She crooned to him, kissed him. Gradually, he quietened. Soon, as she knew it would, her consoling incited him into fierce arousal, an immediate unstoppable need for satisfaction. He pulled off her nightdress, his mouth seeking her body in mastery as he reached for his protection.
Some time later, awash in her own perspiration, she said, ‘The tinkers keep you well supplied with those things. Just as well, the number of times you need them.’
As always after their frantic coupling, Marcus settled with his back towards her, remote, unreachable. ‘Did you not finish the last time?’
‘Do you care?’ she asked, raising herself so she could look over his shoulder and watch his face in the lamp light.
&nb
sp; ‘Of course. Are you complaining?’
‘Not about your performance. You know exactly how to please me.’ She put her arm over him; his flesh was agitated, hot and slippery. She could feel the impenetrable shell he had formed around himself, something she was sure he had perfected long before her swift seduction to his bed. She knew he wanted her to move away from him, leave the room. ‘I’m thinking of walking out with Russell Trevail.’
‘You would do well to stay away from him.’
‘Are you jealous?’ She knew it was a stupid question. If anyone could penetrate his fortress, it would not be her. But he owed her more than erotic sex and a good wage. He could give her a little of his thoughts, his hopes. He could pretend she meant something to him.
Sighing, he eased himself away and located his cigarettes. ‘He’s no good for you.’
‘How do you know that?’ she demanded accusingly.
‘The fellow strikes me as hard and cruel. I’ve heard him picking fights in the pub.’
Sally was annoyed Marcus could only hand out negative advice on the one man who had ever shown a prolonged interest in her. She’d noticed the way her lover looked at Joanna Venner. Sally felt hurt, believing she was about to be spurned. He was bound to think the other woman more suitable for him. ‘I probably will consider Russell. My only choice in this miserable life is to marry him or move away from this place.’
‘Then move away, if it’s what you want!’ Marcus’s nightmare was flashing through his mind in a series of distorted pictures. He, young and innocent, unprotected, being forced to gratify his mother’s body; being touched, hurt. He was in no mood for Sally’s prattlings, her ill humour.
‘To become what?’ Sally snapped bitterly. ‘To go on being a servant? Another man’s whore? A prostitute even? I’d be good at that, with all the things you’ve taught me. Before, all I did for men was to lie on the ground and stare up at the sky.’
Marcus winced. Sally had made him face the fact that the activities he had introduced her to were unhealthy. He was not only a victim of corruption, he was a corrupter. ‘You could get a job in a factory, or a dairy or an hotel. You’re not a whore. You’re an honest, hard-working young woman.’
‘That’s not what most people think. I’ve been with a lot of the men round here. I even let Keane Trevail feel me for a penny when I was fourteen years old. I don’t want to slave for anyone for the rest of my life, to service a rich man in the vain hope he’ll marry me. Russell’s sweet on me. I can handle him. Marrying him’s my best bet.’
‘Then bloody well do it!’ Marcus stubbed out his cigarette and flung back the covers.
Stung to fury, Sally grabbed his arm before he could get out of bed. ‘I know exactly how your mind’s working. You want to drop me because you’ve got designs on Jo Venner. You’d soon marry her, wouldn’t you? She’s got breeding and ambition and best of all she’s got money.’
‘The Venner girl has many attractions,’ he sneered. ‘It sounds to me as if you’re jealous of her. Is she what this is all about?’
‘I admit it,’ Sally retorted. ‘I’m jealous of her but I also admire her. Jo’s not as stupid as me, you won’t get anywhere with her. She knows what she wants out of life. It’s believed she came here only out of duty to Miss Sayce, but she won’t stay long now the old lady’s dead. She’ll go off and make a success of herself, and she’ll leave you here to rot with the rest of us. I’ve been comparing myself to her, that’s what’s upsetting me. I can see now that I’ve been wasting my time with you.’
‘You’re right, Sally,’ he mouthed, suddenly twisting her arm. ‘I am getting tired of you. You’ll get more out of that worthless Russell Trevail than you ever will from me.’
‘You bastard. I hate you!’ Sally thrust his hand away from her. Leaping off the bed, she gathered up her nightdress, but before slipping it back on she glanced downat her stomach, ‘What if I told you I was pregnant?’
Marcus’s eyes turned icy, sharded. ‘I’d kill you.’
‘Oh, really?’ she mocked. ‘I’ve had passion and coldness from you. Didn’t ever think I’d get dramatics.’
Next moment he had her sprawled across the bed, his hands squeezing her throat, making her eyes water in pain. Dark shadows contorted his face. His breathing came in discordant rasps. ‘I’d never ever let a child of mine be born. Do you understand, you putrid lascivious whore?’ He uttered a stream of profanities.
Fearing he was becoming deranged, Sally gasped tearfully, ‘Y-yes. Let me go.’ There had been moments during their intimacy when he had been deliberately cruel, had used obscene language. Unnerved and offended at first, when she had realised it excited him she had willingly taken part, even enjoyed the acts. But he had never been like this before, horrifyingly vehement, breathing as if powered by an unnatural force. ‘I-I was only joking, Marcus. I’m sorry.’
‘I can make you very sorry, Sally. Don’t forget it.’ He thrust her hands underneath her body, trapping them there.
Then he threw his weight on top of her and subjected her to half an hour of terror and brutality.
* * *
Jo had a full class that morning. Molly was very nervous and shook when Jo separated her from Rex and sat her down to share a desk with Ann Markham. Ann’s pleasant nature meant Jo could rely on her to encourage Molly. Otherwise, she took little notice of Molly and Rex to avoid them being teased. She took an interest in Mavis Best, who had recovered from the measles, and a boy called Adam Moore who was absent regularly owing to severe asthma attacks.
After assembly, she took the class for their daily arithmetic lesson, setting the simplest work for Rex and Molly, and Susan Wherry, who also had trouble with numbers. Rex bent his head over his blue exercise book, his tongue resting on his lower lip as he concentrated. Jo had no notion of it but she had gone up in his estimation after yesterday’s visit, when she had behaved in no way like a strict schoolteacher. Luke obviously trusted her and liked her a lot.
Molly was edgy and tearful and made no attempt to write in her exercise book. She stared down agitatedly at the page, as if she had no idea what its purpose was. Ann picked up Molly’s pencil from the groove in the desk, then put it in Molly’s shaking hand. ‘Count on your fingers,’ she whispered.
From the blackboard, where she was writing multiplication sums, Jo smiled to herself. If Rex and Molly settled down to their lessons she had only Kenneth Willis’s problem of falling asleep in class to sort out. It was time she encouraged Ann Markham to look towards a far-sighted future. Ann had expressed the desire to become a nurse; she must be made to see it was possible with hard work and determination.
Suddenly Molly began to sob.
Jo dropped the chalk and turned round. ‘What’s the matter, Molly?’ she asked gently.
‘She’s done number one in her knickers,’ Gillian Jelbert shouted gleefully. ‘It’s dripping down on the floor.’ Like her twin brother, she was sitting near Molly, at the front of the class, where Jo had moved them during the first week of term. The class broke into an uproar of laughter and aimed scathing abuse at Molly. She began to wail.
‘Silence!’ Jo ordered, but although the volume dropped the children kept giggling and whispering.
She was walking towards Molly and was dismayed when the girl began to shriek and shrink away from her. ‘It’s all right, Molly, dear. I’ll soon make everything better for you.’ She looked anxiously at Rex, sitting at the other end of the class and leaning over his desk as he watched his sister with a mortified expression. Jo would get him to take Molly home.
‘Got habits worse than ruddy gippos,’ Arnold Jelbert sneered in disgust.
‘Arnold Jelbert, stand in the corner and don’t you dare say another word,’ Jo hissed at him. ‘The rest of you be quiet or I shall punish you all severely.’
She tried to lift Molly up off her chair but she clung to her desk and screamed. ‘Molly, calm down,’ she pleaded tenderly. ‘You know who I am. You can trust me. I’m going to ask Rex to take y
ou home.’
From the corner, Arnold chanted, ‘Teacher’s pet, knickers all wet.’
The rest of the class laughed uncontrollably. Arnold repeated the chant and some of the children joined in. Rex got up and was heading for his sister, but he changed course and kicked Arnold’s leg. Arnold cried out and the two boys began to fight.
‘Silence!’ Jo called out. ‘Stop that at once!’
But the children thought the wetting incident, Arnold’s cruel cheek, and now the fight, too hilarious to be able to stop their mirth. For the first time in her teaching career, Jo feared she was losing control of her class.
Suddenly, apart from Molly’s loud and mournful wails and Arnold and Rex’s straggles, all went quiet. Jo looked over her shoulder. Marcus Lidgey had come through the partition. His face was forbidding. There was a belated scuffle as the class, except for Molly, shot to their feet in respect for the headmaster’s presence.
‘What is going on here?’ His voice lashed the air.
Arnold and Rex stopped fighting and stood straight and still. Red-faced, their fearful eyes were on the headmaster. Molly’s weeping turned to racked sobs.
Jo felt extremely uncomfortable. The man who usually offered her his total support was glaring at her with accusation and intolerance. ‘I’m afraid Molly has had a little accident, Mr Lidgey.’
He advanced on them. ‘What sort of accident?’
Jo’s cheeks flamed for Molly’s shame. ‘She’s wet.’
His harsh expression remained unaltered. ‘I’ll arrange for one of the girls in my class to take her home. She must be unwell. She can take the rest of the day off.’ He turned his black eyes on Arnold and Rex. ‘You boys stay there until the mid-morning break, then you will report to me.’ He did not look at Jo again before returning to his class.
Jo was on playground duty. She felt disturbed when Arnold and Rex emerged, long after the other children, displaying sore, red left hands, the hand they did not write with. Arnold had tears in his eyes but acted as if it was all a great joke. Rex glared at Jo as though he blamed her for his pain and humiliation, and Molly’s too. Jo’s heart sank. On his first day back at school, she had failed to gain Rex’s trust. And she had assured Luke she would take care of his brother and sister at school. It did not seem fair that Rex should be caned when he had only been driven to lash out over his sister’s terror and acute embarrassment.
Listening to the Quiet Page 14