The Parson's Daughter

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘He’ll not be able to stop me. Which judge, in a court of law, could pass over an incident like that and not call it reason for divorce? There are those in the house who would deny that they knew anything about the matter. There are also those who would stand by me, a few. And anyway, those who did not witness her entry or departure from the house will have been given evidence of her having been there from some of her garments still hanging from the highest branches of the cherry tree; I noticed her blue silk under-drawers and a matching waist petticoat. They’ll be awkward to get at, even with a ladder, and until they are down they’ll be in full view of anyone coming up the drive.’

  ‘Oh, Nancy Ann. I do wish it was possible to laugh. But my dear’—her tone changed—‘you look so deadly pale and tired. You haven’t slept.’

  ‘No, not at all.’

  ‘Well, you know what you are going to do. My bed is still warm, you are going into it and have a couple of hours’ rest. Now, no more talk, just do what you’re told. The girls and Mary will see to the children. You have a treasure in that young woman.’

  Nancy Ann did not need any further persuasion to go to her grandmama’s room, and, after undressing, she put on one of her grandmama’s nightdresses. But as she was about to get into bed, she paused and did what she hadn’t done for almost three years, since Dennison had laughed at her when she knelt down by the bed to say her night prayers. From that time she had said them just before going to sleep. But this morning, her face buried in her hands, she found that, although she was kneeling in a suppliant attitude, she could not pray, especially could she not say ‘Our Father…forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us’. So she rose from her knees, got into bed and, turning on her side, she buried her face in the pillow. But still she did not cry. And it came to her that last night in the wood she had cried all she was ever going to cry again.

  When she awoke she lay quietly for some time with her eyes closed, imagining that she had really dreamed all that had happened last night. But when it was borne in upon her that it was no dream but stark reality, she opened her eyes and looked round the room. It was almost a replica of her grandmama’s room at the vicarage; cluttered, but homely.

  The door opened and her grandmama came in and she stood by the bed and said, ‘There now, you’ve had a nice long rest.’

  ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Just on noon. Coming up twelve o’clock.’

  ‘That late?’

  As she made to rise, Jessica put her hand on her shoulder, saying, ‘There’s no hurry, everything is arranged. Mary and Agnes have the children on the lawn and Rebecca is running around yelling her head off, as usual. By, she has a pair of lungs on her, that one! But you have a visitor…No, no, it isn’t him, it’s Graham. He’s been here this hour past; he’s been playing with the children. He seemed to know all about it before I opened my mouth. Funny, how things get about. They’ll likely try to hush this up over there, but it’s too late already. It appears that one of Graham’s gardeners was courting a kitchen maid up at the House and was paying a late visit. He was about to make his way back, apparently using your pathway, when he heard the screams between the clashes of thunder, and he ran towards them, which brought him out on the lower lawn below the balcony. And there, in a flash of lightning, he sees, what he told Graham’s butler, a spectacle that you would only expect to see in a madhouse. Graham didn’t go into details, he didn’t need to. But he’s concerned for you. Anyway, don’t hurry, just take it easy. Get yourself washed and dressed, then we’ll see about arranging rooms. And, my dear’—she put her hand on Nancy Ann’s shoulder—‘you’ve got to be prepared for the other visitor.’

  Nancy Ann made no reply, but the thought of the coming meeting sent a tremor through her …

  Strangely, she felt shy of meeting Graham. She was aware of the high regard in which he held her, and she wondered if he would associate the Nancy Ann she had been with the one she had become, this brawling person who had used her fists and knees like some drunken washerwoman.

  As she went down the stairs, she was asking herself if she were ashamed of what she had done, and the answer came back even before the thought had ended: No, no, she wasn’t. Not a bit. Not one bit.

  ‘My dear.’ Graham was holding her hands. ‘I’m sorry, so sorry. I mean that, I really am.’

  ‘These things happen, Graham. They were bound to happen to someone like me, silly, gullible.’

  ‘You were never silly nor gullible.’

  She had withdrawn her hands from his and was leading the way into the sitting room, and there he went on, ‘I cannot believe it of him. I must admit I was never very fond of him, but I imagined you were happy with him and that was enough for me. Or let us say—’ his voice trailed off into a mutter, and then he said quietly, ‘He’ll never let you keep the children, especially his son, and, things being what they are, I’m afraid the law will be on his side.’

  ‘Not after I explain my case.’

  He now walked away from her to the far end of the room and looked out of the window. Then turning, he said, ‘This will ruin him, you know, especially when he’s aiming to get into Parliament.’ He smiled sadly, saying, ‘The moral code men demand of those who are in the public eye is really laughable: their lives must appear beyond reproach. That the majority of them lead double lives is overlooked. The surface one must be righteous in the eyes of the people, yet the so-righteous ones can make no secret of their incompatibility. The lack of tolerance of our dear Queen and our Prime Minister are two good examples, don’t you think? Both righteous people, yet cannot stand the sight of each other.’

  She looked at him. She hadn’t known that, about the Queen and Mr Gladstone. But there he was, this kind, good and faithful friend, speaking up for a man that he didn’t really like, and whose place he would have filled if he hadn’t been so slow, to use his own words. She was finding it strange that she could let her thoughts flow free like this. No longer did she admonish herself: I mustn’t think like that, I am a married woman. It is a sin to think such things as another man being in love with you…Where had the girl gone who had thought like that? She didn’t know, except that she had died last night.

  He returned to her now, saying, ‘If there’s anything you want, anything at all I can do, you must tell me. One thing I fear, you are going to be hard pressed for room here.’

  ‘No, no. It will be all right once I can arrange things. And I’m so grateful that I have this house to come to. What I would have done otherwise I don’t know. I shall always be grateful to you, Graham.’

  She thought that he was about to say something, but instead he gulped in his throat, jerked his chin out of his soft collar, then turned from her, saying, ‘You know where I am if you need me.’ And then he was gone.

  As she stood looking down the room, she recalled what he had said about the law being on Dennison’s side with regard to the children, and the thought turned her sharply around and she hurried through the French window and onto the lawn where Rebecca came running on her stubby legs to meet her, crying, ‘Mama! Mama! A bunny! Bunny!’ She pointed.

  ‘Yes, darling, yes, a bunny.’ But there was no rabbit in sight. Lifting the child up, she called to Agnes: ‘Bring William in, Agnes. And, Mary, will you come along a moment?’

  A few minutes later, in the makeshift nursery, she gave Mary an explanation for her order, saying, ‘Keep them indoors until—’ She paused, dithering between using the master, my husband, their father, or Mr Harpcore; when she could use none of these terms, she added lamely, ‘Just keep them in until later, Mary. You…you understand?’

  Mary understood.

  She next went into her father’s bedroom, and her grandmother turned from bending anxiously over the bed and said abruptly, ‘We’d better call the doctor, he’s had a turn for the worse. Send Johnny straight away.’

  Nancy Ann left the room hastily and she had reached the hall when she saw Hilda opening the front door, and there
stood Dennison.

  She looked away from him and to Hilda, saying now, ‘Would you tell Johnny to go for the doctor as quickly as possible?’

  ‘Yes, miss…ma’am.’

  She now turned about and walked quickly into the sitting room, conscious that he was close behind her; and once more she was standing where she had been a few minutes earlier. But now her heart was racing, her throat was dry, her eyes were wide and unblinking. She noted without surprise that there was a slight discolouring on his cheekbone. She also noted that only his chin and lips had been shaved, the dark stubble having been left no doubt to diminish the evidence of her blow.

  He was the first to speak. ‘What is the meaning of this,’ he said, ‘taking the children?’

  When she did not answer, he said, ‘You will bring them back to the house at once. That is an order.’

  When she still did not speak he cried louder now, ‘You heard what I said?’

  And now she answered him in like voice: ‘Yes, I heard what you said. And now you hear what I say. I will not take my children back to your house, nor will I enter it again, and if you had any common sense you would not be standing there putting on the act of an aggrieved party. Even the mentally lowest of your band of spies would have more sense than take up that attitude.’

  ‘How dare you!’

  ‘Oh, I dare, I dare, and will dare more than that before this business is ended.’

  He gazed at her, his lips slightly apart, his eyes narrowed, because he could not link the figure standing before him with his sweet young wife, with his pliable young wife; a transition had taken place. Here stood a woman, a woman who felt she had been grievously wronged. But if only she would listen. His voice low, and with a plea in it, he said, ‘Nancy Ann, will you listen to me? There is an explanation.’

  ‘Oh, please’—she shook her head slowly from side to side—‘I beg you, don’t lower my estimation of you any further. I find you naked in bed with your whore…’

  ‘Nancy Ann!’ His voice was a bawl. But she continued and repeated her words, ‘I say with your whore. Your clothes are lying together on the couch, and not for the first time, as you’ve admitted. And you expect me to believe there is an explanation, when your underlings had made the way clear for her, even to putting candlelights on the stairway and the gallery.’

  His face stretched and his voice came rapidly: ‘I tell you I knew nothing of this. She came unawares.’

  ‘And I suppose she undressed unawares, and got into your bed unawares, and she lay by your side unawares. Don’t, I beg of you, go on any further.’

  He turned from her and sat down heavily on a chair and, leaning his elbow on his knee, he dropped his head onto his hand, and like that he muttered, ‘It looked bad, I know, but if you would only listen. In any case, I beg of you, come back to the house, bring the children. I…I miss you. I need you.’

  She was quite unmoved by his plea, and her voice was low and cool as she said, ‘I’ve already told you, I have no intention of ever coming back to your house. I am going to divorce you.’

  Her words did not cause him to spring up from the chair, but his hands slowly left his face, he straightened his back and he looked at her, and there was even a suspicion of a smile on his face as he said, ‘Don’t be silly.’

  ‘I am going to divorce you, Dennison.’ The very fact that she had given him his full name now brought him to his feet and, his face darkening, he said, ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘I can. You must admit I have a very good case: that woman was your mistress before we were married; and since, she has laughed up her sleeve at me over the past years, insulted me; then she dares to come into my home, into my bed. That is enough, I should imagine, to win my case.’

  ‘Win your case!’ He was bawling again. ‘Well, the lady in question could bring a case against you for damages to her person.’

  ‘She is a slut, and she got the deserts of a slut.’

  ‘Then, in a way, last night, there was a pair of you, for your actions were not those of any lady or vicarage miss, more like those of a fishwife, a drunken one at that. You, in turn, should be ashamed of yourself.’

  ‘It may surprise you that I am not in the least ashamed of myself. My only regret now is that I didn’t go further and let you join your slut on the balcony. Your staff then could have witnessed the result of their preparations.’

  ‘Oh, God Almighty!’ He now began to pace the room, his hand to his head. Then stopping abruptly, he cried, ‘I don’t know what’s come over you, woman. I expected retaliation, of course I did, but not this. And this divorce business, you can’t do it, you mustn’t do it.’

  ‘I can do it, and I will do it.’

  She watched his head move forward, his shoulders rise. His whole attitude spelt of incredulity. And now he muttered, ‘But the election, it…it would ruin me.’

  ‘You should have thought of that and put your political life before that of your private desires.’

  His whole body moved from side to side as if he were struggling against fetters. Suddenly, it stopped. For a moment he stared at her; then his face became convulsed and, an arm outstretched and its fingers stabbing at her, he cried, ‘You’ll never get the children! You will never get my son! No court of law would give you custody because every man worth his salt has his mistress, and those trying the case could have too. You, my prim little vicarage maiden, don’t know of the times you live in. I took you as an amusing child out of that stifling atmosphere and I imagined I could teach you how to live a full life, which, in part, meant meeting the traumas of life, particularly marriage, with dignity. But I recognise now, you never had dignity. You never will. Now, here’s my last word on the subject: I’m going to London for a few days. You know where to reach me. By the time I return I expect you to have changed your plans and returned to the house. Good day to you.’

  She sank down on the sofa. She was trembling from head to foot; she could not even keep her teeth from chattering; it was more as if she were being affected by a great chill. Presently, the cold turned to a numbness; and the sensation frightened her, as it was to do until later in the day when the doctor called and said he was afraid that John had now contracted pneumonia and was a very sick man.

  Such was the hurrying and scurrying now that her own troubles were pushed into the background, at least by others in the house. In her own mind, however, they remained very much to the fore.

  It was on the third day, when John’s condition became somewhat stationary, that Nancy Ann went into Durham, there to see her father’s solicitor; and when she returned, there was a visitor awaiting her, and immediately she put her arms around her, crying, ‘Oh, Pat, Pat! I’m so pleased you are back.’

  Sitting on the sofa side by side, their hands gripped, Pat said, ‘I shouldn’t be here. We returned from Holland to London where George had business he wanted to tie up, then we were off to France. But there, yesterday morning, we had hardly got indoors when I had a visit from Denny. I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t believe what he had to tell me. My dear, you have got to go back to the house, and quickly.’

  ‘Oh, no, Pat, no. I’m never going back there. In fact, I’ve just been into Durham and seen a solicitor and told him what I intend to do. I’m divorcing him, Pat.’

  ‘Oh, no, by God! Girl, you’re not, not if I can help it. You didn’t listen to him and what happened. And, now, be quiet!’ She shook Nancy Ann’s arm none too gently. ‘That bitch of a woman had been working up to this ever since the day you married; in fact, ever since the day she realised that he had an interest in you. I saw it as a danger signal when she offered him friendship after he had become engaged to you. The only person she could ever be friendly with would be the devil, and then she has enough wiles to trick him. Now, I’m telling you, this is what she’s been waiting for, just this situation. And her cronies over there, who should be kicked out of the place, have made it possible for her to carry it out. At this time of the year she would usually be abr
oad, exposing her fat to the sun and bragging about it never changing colour. But no, she’s sitting there, tight. And let me tell you, girl, that Dennison loves you as he’s never loved anybody in his life. He wants you, girl. He needs you. You’ve been a bulwark to him, you’ve changed his life. But if you throw him out of your life, he’s a man and if he’s going to be blamed for cohabiting with her, then that’s just what he will do, he’ll take up the idea that if he’s blamed for it he might as well earn it. And she’ll have won. Nancy Ann’—Pat shook her arm—‘she will have won. She’s had men in her life since she gained puberty, but he became an obsession with her. He still is. Now look, don’t turn your face away like that. And listen to me, listen closely. You wouldn’t hear his side of the story as to how it happened. Well, he told it to me detail for detail, and I’m giving it to you now. It was like this. It was a hot thundery night. He had been working late on his papers. That’s another thing, this Parliamentary business was the best thing next to yourself that ever happened to him. It could have been a steadying influence and you mustn’t ruin it, you mustn’t. Anyway, as I say, he had been working late. He was very hot and tired, and, this is the point, he was missing you, even if he hadn’t been in your bed for some time. And that, by the way, was through the doctor’s suggestion: he told him it would be dangerous if you had any more children. Oh, yes, yes, I know, and he knows’—she flapped her hand—‘there are ways and means. But he was being considerate, over considerate, he realises now. Well, anyway, let me come to the point. He went upstairs, and the heat was so oppressive that he decided not to go straight to bed, but to sit on the balcony for a time. So he dismissed Staith. Then after a while he undressed, not in the dressing room, but in the bedroom, and threw himself on top of the bed. And that storm brewing didn’t prevent him from dropping into an exhausted sleep. The next thing he knew was, he thought you had come back and he put his arm around you, and then, to use his own words when he saw who was lying there, “God, I couldn’t believe it. I thought I must be dreaming.” Whatever madam’s intention was in coming to the house in the first place, the end must surely have been what she saw presented from the bed, and she must have undressed there and then. Anyway, he remonstrated with her quietly and gently, because you must remember, Nancy Ann, and face up to the fact that that woman was once his mistress. But that was before he knew you, and he swears to God and he swore to me that he has never touched her since, although I know myself she followed him to London. I was in a London house once when she called and we all had tea together. Anyway, you can imagine he didn’t go into exact detail over what followed; I could only gather as well as assume that she must have become very persuasive, to say the least, and except for kicking her out of the bed, the only thing he could do was…well, to be counter-persuasive. And he was doing just that when, as if, again to use his own words, his conscience had conjured you up and placed you at the foot of the bed, because he was never so shocked in his life as when he saw you standing there, and for a moment he became paralysed until he saw you grabbing up all the clothes and rushing towards the balcony. He said there was no light in the dressing room and he couldn’t put his hand on anything but a towel, and there was the thunder and lightning punctuated by the screaming of Rene. When he rushed back into the room, there you were throwing the key of the balcony doors out of the window. And the next bit…well really, my dear!’—she smiled now—‘if this business hadn’t been so serious, I would have laughed my head off, to think that the little vicarage piece could use her fists and knee on her lord and master. You didn’t exactly give him a black eye, but it was a beautiful blue one. The outline of it was still there when I saw him. But the knee, I thought I’d heard everything then. Katie Lynshaw. You know Katie Lynshaw who lives over Jesmond way. You met her at the Tollys. Well, she’s not the size of twopenn’orth of copper, but she almost brained Harry with the chamberpot. She cracked it over the side of his head, and was left holding the handle. The poor fellow was never the same afterwards…well, you know he died last year. I’m not surprised. But to use the knee’—she tut-tutted, she was smiling now, ‘it was most unladylike.’