The start that Brown gave as he turned towards his wife was almost like a shout of denial. But he didn’t speak, only glared at her; and she didn’t turn towards him but kept her eyes fixed on Bill as she went on, ‘We are moving to London shortly, where, as I think you know, my husband has a number of interests. Isn’t that so, James?’
It looked for a moment as if her husband was going to choke, but still he said nothing, and she went on, ‘And my son is going to a school in Scotland. It’s near where my uncle lives; it is rather remote but there’s a lot of outdoor life and I’m sure the training will prove good for his future.’
Her son was looking at her open-mouthed now. And it was he who spoke, saying one word, ‘Mother.’
‘Yes?’
‘I…I promise you, I won’t do…do anything ever…ever again.’
‘I know you won’t, dear.’
Bill felt a strange chill going through him as he looked at this tall elegant woman, for in this moment she was emanating power, a cold, even ruthless power. But how had she come by it? Evidently she had some hold over Brown, and it was great enough to have turned the man’s colour to a sickly grey and caused the boy to bow his head.
She was looking at him again, saying now, ‘So do you think, Mr Bailey, under the circumstances, you could overlook this final insult? And I give you my word and I have never yet been known to break it.’ Did she send a sidelong glance towards her husband? Perhaps it was a trick of the light, because she went on, ‘So I can assure you that you or yours will never again be subjected to abuse in any form from my family.’
He did not answer her right away but stared at her as if fascinated. He had been attracted to her the last time she had stood in this office. Oh yes, he had. He loved Fiona and would never love anyone else like he loved her, but that didn’t stop him from admiring another woman. And he had admired this one, and he still admired her; but his admiration was now tinged with something that he couldn’t put a name to. But whatever it was he didn’t like it, and he was damned glad she wasn’t his wife. Well, of course, he told himself, she wouldn’t be for he’d have never got hitched to her. But how had she come to be Brown’s wife? Yes, that was the question that would always puzzle him: Why had she taken a fellow like Brown, a woman like her? and ten or twelve years ago she must have been an absolute stunner, she still was. But…
He heard himself say, ‘Well—’ Then he made himself pause and looked from Brown to his son. The boy was staring at him, but Brown was half-turned away as if he was looking towards the door. Then he went on. ‘If as you say, your plans are all set to move, and your husband is leaving the firm, and your son is going to be taught how to behave, and the wilds of Scotland will likely prove more effective in the long run than Borstal.’
Brown’s voice cut in on him like the crack of a gun as he swung round, crying, ‘There’d be no Borstal. He wouldn’t get Borstal for that.’
‘Wouldn’t he? Well, shall we try?’ His hand went to the phone.
‘James!’ Almost like a fierce but whipped cur Brown swung round again towards the door, and in this moment Bill had it in his heart to be sorry for the man, for as he saw it, it wasn’t right that any man, particularly a husband, should be made to look small by a woman. And he asked himself again: How on earth had this marriage come about? And to what did she owe the power that she definitely possessed?
His voice was curt when he next spoke, ‘As I said, I’ll take your word for it, Mrs Brown…And you will make good the damage?’
‘Yes, of course, Mr Bailey. Thank you.’
As she now walked to the door that Arthur Taggart was holding open for her, the boy scampered after her, whimpering ‘Mother. Mother.’ But it was as if she hadn’t heard him.
Brown did not immediately follow them; he remained staring at Bill. And what he said now could have been enigmatic, but Bill got its meaning: his words were, ‘I intend to live a long time.’
Chapter Twenty-One
It had been quite a morning. All the men were up in arms about the vandalism, and to those he termed his Board he gave as much explanation as he thought necessary. And to a man, they said he had been daft; this was a chance to get his own back on Brown. Why hadn’t he taken it? And to this he had replied, they had made a deal and Brown wouldn’t be troubling them in future. That’s as far as he had gone. He couldn’t have said Mrs Brown had taken things into her own hands which, the more he thought about it, the more he realised were frightfully strong. And more than once during the morning when his thoughts returned to the matter he would again ask himself how she had managed to get linked up with Brown.
However, around twelve o’clock, the mystery was solved for him.
It was at this time that a chauffeur-driven Rolls came into the yard and out of it stepped Sir Charles Kingdom. The old man greeted Bill heartily, saying, ‘You are getting on with this lot, aren’t you? What are you going to do when it’s finished?’
Laughingly Bill replied, ‘Keep hoping that you will get me another site, sir.’
‘Well! well! You can always hope, you know. Can we talk somewhere?’
‘You don’t want to see round, sir?’
‘No, no; I don’t want to see round.’
Bill did him the courtesy of seating him in his own chair and was surprised when the old man said, ‘Nasty business last night.’ And further when pursing his lips, he said, ‘You are surprised I know all about it? I knew all about it by breakfast time; Eva phoned me.’
Bill’s lips repeated the words but no sound came from them and Sir Charles now said, ‘What you don’t know is, I’m her godfather.’
‘Really, sir?’
‘Yes, really. Wasted life, utterly wasted life. God Almighty! the things women do. You’ve met her twice. She told me she first saw you after you lathered the boy. You did a damn fine job there I’d say. Has it ever made you ponder, having seen her, why she got linked up with Brown?’
‘To be honest, sir, it’s made me ponder up till this very minute.’
‘And you’re not the only one. But up home in Scotland’—he thumbed over his shoulders as if Scotland lay just beyond the yard—‘if the truth isn’t known it’s pretty well guessed at. Do you know, she had every fellow in the county at her feet when she was nineteen? She had been sent to a sort of modern finishing school in Paris, and she comes back into that house, that mausoleum of a house. Her father was my second cousin, you know. Damned hypocrite if ever there was one. Supported the church, could pick his ministers; he was lousy rich, mostly inherited; but he had fingers in all kinds of pies, too, the main one a distillery. Yes, yes, a distillery, and him reading the lesson every Sunday like Michael the Archangel. And she was just as bad, his wife, Liza. Well, as I was saying, young Eva comes back to that atmosphere after seeing life abroad, and she hated it. She told me so herself. “How am I going to get out of this, Uncle Charles?” she said. “Marry,” I said. And I can see her now ticking off on her fingers the fellows she knew, half of them belonging to the church and half of the others given up to horse ridin’ and whorin’. But that still left two or three decent chaps. But she wasn’t attracted by them…Aren’t women fools, Bailey?’
‘Well—’ Bill hesitated, then added, ‘There are exceptions, sir.’
‘Few and far between. Well anyway, as I was saying, more to pass the time than anything she used to go round the works. And Brown at that time was under-manager, risen up from the bottles, he had, ambitious fellow. He was a man at this time, too, eleven years older than her, and he made it his business to speak to her every time he saw her. And she chatted to him. He was different, you see, from the usual men she met. And then came the night of the staff party. By the way, she had only one brother, just one, Ian, a bit hot-headed but a decent enough chap, and he was very protective of her. Anyway, the wine flowed and Eva went missing. Ian looked for her and found her, but too late. She was in the old summer house in the wood, and so was Brown…And apparently the dee
d was done. My! my! yes.’ The old man paused and sighed heavily before going on.
‘Lord above! When Liza knew, that was her mother, she nearly went insane. And you know how her father took it? He had a damned heart attack. There were great consultations. My mother was present, we lived just down the valley. She and Liza had been girlhood friends. It was proposed that the child be taken away. But apparently Eva wasn’t for this. She dug her heels in. It was pointed out to her, I understand, that no man in the county would take her on, ever. And to this she had replied defiantly, that Brown would. So that’s how it came about. Brown was quietly upgraded; he became manager of one of old George’s many pies he had in England. And you won’t believe it, it was sort of arranged by the family that before that happened Eva and Brown should do a kind of eloping act. It made everything more normal like, as they said. And that’s what did happen.’
The old man now took out a small snuffbox, retrieved a pinch, placed it in the hollow between his first finger and thumb, sniffed at it twice, then dabbed at his nose with a large blue silk handkerchief, before saying, ‘Brown thought he was clever, but he didn’t know what he was taking on. Eva is a formidable woman, not only in her character, but because she holds the purse strings. I’ll give her father his due, the old man never altered his will. And so when he died she got a good slice of the takings. But the old fellow had made one stipulation and that was the money must always remain in her name. And not only did she get a big dollop of cash, but she got a biscuit factory, and a share in a big healthy removal business. Oh, she’s a very, very wealthy woman is Eva. But now what I’m going to say after all that is going to surprise you, Bailey, and it’s just this…I’m sorry for Brown. Can you believe that?’
Bill was some time in answering because he was reliving the scene that had taken place in this office last night. But when he spoke he said, ‘Yes, in a way, but only in a way.’
‘Oh, I can see it from your point of view. And the man’s a vindictive stinker, I know. But my God, he must have had something to put up with because Eva is like an icicle. And really he’s still only a manager: although he seems to play about with money, everything has to be okayed by her. She has her hands tightly on the reins and sees to the business side of most things. Can you believe that?’
‘Yes, yes, I can believe it.’
‘But on the other hand, just think, Bailey, if she had married a decent bloke, somebody she loved, you would have seen a woman with a heart today.’
Bill now said quietly, ‘She’s a courageous woman. She must have had that courage when she was young; why didn’t she just go and have the child?’
‘Simply because, I suppose, she had been brought up in luxury, and she hadn’t a penny of her own and they would certainly not have given her a farthing, at least at that time, so she could see no other option.’
‘Is her mother still alive?’
‘Oh yes; and her brother too of course. That’s where she’s sending the boy. He’s got an estate up in the hills and the school that boy will go to is quite near. And if between them they don’t make him into some sort of a man I’ll be surprised, because it’s Brown’s fault the boy is as he is. Brown’s tried to get his own back on Eva by toadying for the boy’s affection, giving him all he wanted on the quiet. But truth to tell, Eva’s got no love for the lad…How’s your life? How do you find your wife?’
‘My home life is very good, sir. I have an excellent wife.’
‘You took her on with three children, I understand; and adopted another?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘You like children?’
‘Yes, I’m very fond of children, sir.’
‘Why don’t you have some of your own then?’
‘Give me time, sir. I promised her to make the family up to ten.’
‘Ha! Ha!’ The old man laughed loudly. ‘What does she say about that?’
‘She’s quite willin’.’
‘You’re a lucky man then.’
‘Yes, I’m a lucky man, sir.’
‘By the way’—the old man pulled himself up from the chair—‘don’t go spreading round what I’ve told you. And I can add this, I love that girl but I’m not proud of her actions last night, to bring him low in front of you and a watchman. She could have done it another way.’
‘Why doesn’t she divorce him?’
‘Why does a cat play with a mouse? She hasn’t said much about the private side of her marriage, you understand, but from the little I gather he must have given her a rough time at first. But don’t forget she was a nineteen-year-old and he was thirty, and brute strength can prevail for a time at any rate. Anyway, he soon had to find his pleasures elsewhere. He had his women on the side, a permanent one I understand.’
‘And she puts up with that?’ Bill’s nostrils had widened.
‘Apparently. Do you read history at all? All wicked women are subtle. Well now, I must be away. I hate Christmas, always have done. My two sons and my daughter bring their squads and my son’s daughter even brings hers. Can you believe that? I’m a great-grandfather.’
Bill smiled tolerantly at the old man, saying kindly now, ‘I don’t believe you don’t enjoy Christmas, sir.’
‘You can take it from me I don’t.’ He now punched Bill on the shoulder. ‘I went missing last Christmas Day. There was a hue and cry all over the house. I heard them. There’s a closet in the attic. Well, it’s a kind of little room. I used to hide in it when I was a boy and so did my sons and grandsons, but they didn’t remember it until they became desperate. And I heard Geoffrey saying, “He couldn’t be in there, not all this time.” But I was, with a bottle of good port and a box of cigars. But the latter was a pleasure I had to forego because they would have smelt them. Anyway, the children enjoyed finding me. They laughed their heads off, but their parents weren’t amused.’ He went out chuckling.
The chauffeur held the car door open for him and had already started the engine when the old man’s window began to slide down and, pushing his wrinkled face out towards Bill, he said, ‘I’ve got a good wife, too.’ He made a deep obeisance with his head. ‘Very understanding. Always has been, in all ways.’ And now a mischievous grin on his face, he ended, ‘Never gave me any need to go hunting, never, except the fox. Understand?’
The window was sliding up again and Bill was left standing, the laughter in him making his eyes moist as he watched the car backing into the road. There went a character. Wait until he got home and told Fiona.
At three o’clock, a maid showed Fiona into a room that could have been a study or a sitting room. She took in the overall comfort as Mr Morgan led her to a seat. Then he discussed the weather loudly as he went around a teak desk and, after seating himself, he drew a file towards him which he opened, read a little, then looking at her and smiling, said, ‘Ah, well now…how are you feeling?’
‘Not on top of the world…Naturally, I’m worried.’
‘Of course, of course. Well now, we had the plates back and as you may have already gathered they show trouble with the appendix. But lower down it has revealed a…er…rather dark mass. Now, that’s what we’ve got to think about, isn’t it?’
She was unable to answer. Deep in the pit of her stomach there was a feeling that told her she could be sick at any minute. There flashed through her mind the picture of the children before she left the house and Mamie crying as she said, ‘You going on a holiday, Mammy B?’
It was Mamie’s kind of holiday that was in her mind now, and had been for days because of the answer to the dreaded question that could lead her to that holiday.
She hadn’t meant to ask. She had told herself she wouldn’t ask. But she heard a small voice say, ‘Could it be cancer?’
‘Yes, yes it could; but of course we won’t know exactly until we get inside, will we?’
My God! Just like that, straight out. He had said, ‘Yes, yes, it could.’ Why couldn’t he have lied? Or put it in a different way? But to say, ‘Yes, yes, it could.’ What
was she going to say to Bill who was waiting outside. She was sweating. There was a buzzing in her ears. She could hear his voice. It was as if he was standing behind her, saying, ‘You’re going to be all right, Mrs B.’
She was hearing Mr Morgan clearly once more; ‘We’re right on the holidays and one or two more days won’t make all that difference, because I know you would like to be with your children for Christmas, but if you would care to go in sooner I could get Mr Rice to see to it, although I would rather do it myself. However, it’s up to you.’
‘Oh. Oh, I’ll wait. Yes, please. But when will that be?’
‘Well now; I don’t think we should leave it too long.’ He drew an appointment book towards him and, after flicking the pages, he again said, ‘Well now.’ This seemed to be a pet phrase of his. ‘Well now, let’s see. How about Friday. You will come in, of course, the previous day. It’s the Nuffield, isn’t it? Shall I make arrangements for that day, Thursday the twenty-seventh?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Well then, that’s it.’
He rose from behind the desk. She too rose, and as he led her to the door he held out his hand and shook hers warmly, saying, ‘Enjoy your Christmas…’
The car was across the road from the house. Bill was walking up and down the pavement.
On seeing her, he dodged between two cars and caught her arm; but not until they were seated in the car did he ask, ‘How did you get on then?’
She did not look at him but through the windscreen to where a line of bare poplar trees were all bending in the wind. ‘I’m to go in on the twenty-seventh.’
‘Operation?’ His voice seemed to come from high in his head, and now she looked at him and said, ‘Yes, dear, operation the following day.’
‘What is it?’
She told herself she was speaking the truth when she said, ‘He doesn’t rightly know, apart from the appendix.’
Bill Bailey Page 20