The Silent Lady

by Catherine Cookson

  5

  During the time Bella was baring her soul to Joe, Irene was standing in a pawn shop facing an old man who wore a skull cap, and he was looking at something she had taken out of a bag inside her coat pocket. It was a ring and he looked at it for a long time before he put his hand under the counter and brought out an eye-glass. It was some minutes later when he said to her in a thick tone, ‘You want to pawn this article?’

  When she nodded he paused a moment or two before speaking again, then said, ‘Have you any idea of its worth?’ His words were slow as if he were talking to a child, and again she inclined her head towards him.

  He now picked up the ring and once more put the glass to his eye. Then, after a moment, he called, ‘Joseph!’ and was answered by a younger edition of himself coming from a back room and taking a position by his side. When his father held out the ring silently to him the younger man looked at it for quite some moments before, taking the eye-glass from his father, he too peered through it. Then he muttered one word: ‘My!’

  The elderly man was speaking once more to Irene and he said, ‘You will, I am sure, be asking a large loan for this article, but first I must ask you, does it really belong to you?’

  The word came out quick, utterly clear and loud: ‘Yes!’

  Its tone was so different from the appearance of this person that the men’s eyes met again for a moment, and they were still more astonished when their customer’s small fist thumped her chest, exclaiming loudly, ‘Mine! Mine!’

  ‘All right, madam. We believe you, but as I was about to say, we don’t often take into pawn articles of this value. Ours is a very poor district, as you can see, and really we must tell you our loans don’t go much beyond ten shillings, if that. So you will understand my questioning about this most wonderful ring. Nevertheless I am used to stones, madam. Good stones.’

  Again there was an exchange of glances; and then the old man gave his full attention to Irene, saying, ‘What did you think about asking, I mean as a loan?’

  They both waited and the same sum was in both their minds. She would ask at least for fifty pounds but they would beat her down, naturally, as it was their business to do so. But this ring here was worth a great deal of money, if he knew anything about stones. Oh, yes. Rubies and diamonds.

  She surprised them both by saying, ‘Thirty pounds.’

  It was the son who repeated, ‘Thirty pounds.’ Then he looked at his father and repeated, ‘Thirty pounds.’

  He turned quickly to a shelf before him on which were small pockets of articles with tickets hanging from them and he pushed one here and there before he muttered, ‘Don’t haggle. Don’t haggle, Father.’

  The older man seemed to consider a moment, and then he said, ‘Thirty pounds. Well, I don’t see why you can’t have thirty pounds. Do you mean to leave it lying for some months or a year?’

  She stared back at the men who were now facing her, and they saw that she was making a great effort to speak again because her mouth opened and closed convulsively. She put a hand to her throat and such was her agitation that the elder man said, ‘Don’t worry yourself, my dear lady.’ Yes, he had called her a lady, for he was sure, under that dreadful garb, that that’s what she was, a lady, but in distress of some kind because her words came out only as syllables.

  Quietly and slowly, he said, ‘You mean that it may be more than a year before you come back? But I must tell you, madam, that if you do not return in a year and pay back your loan then by law we are allowed to keep what you pawned and sell it. You understand?’

  They both saw that she didn’t, and it was the younger man who said, ‘You can insure it. I mean, you can pay so much to insure it if you don’t mean to return in a year. You could cover it for a year, two years, three years or more, and it will always be here when you come back. That’s if you can afford to insure it. You could perhaps use some of the thirty pounds in insurance?’

  She shook her head vigorously. Then she seemed to think for a moment and, putting her hand quickly inside her coat, she fumbled about a bit before placing before them another ring.

  ‘A wedding ring?’ asked the elderly man.

  She nodded.

  The younger man took the ring and, turning it round in his fingers, he said to his father, ‘Do you see those?’

  ‘I would be blind, my son, if I didn’t. Diamonds are diamonds, even if they’re only pinhead size,’ and his fingers now traced the band of small diamonds running round the centre of the circle.

  ‘You would like to pawn this also?’

  Irene’s head bobbed again, and then with a great effort she brought out the word in stilted form, ‘In-sur-ance.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Yes.’

  Then she added another word to it, ‘Part.’ This word was clear.

  Both men considered; and then the younger one said, ‘You want to know how much you can borrow on this ring, and you want to leave part of it by way of insurance on both the dress ring and this one?’

  Irene looked at him for a long moment, and then, taking a deep breath, she brought out again the single word, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, madam’ – the older man was speaking again – ‘you know that this hasn’t the value of the first ring? It is very nice, oh, very nice indeed, and of value, and it is wise that you are using it by way of insurance.’ Then he turned to his son. ‘For how many years would five pounds cover the insurance on the article?’

  Once again the young man turned his back on his father and addressed himself to arranging the things in the small cubby-holes, and he whispered, ‘Offer ten.’

  ‘But . . . but, son . . .’

  ‘Offer ten, Father, please.’

  The older man’s whispered words were audible to Irene: ‘Have you gone soft in the head already? Does she hold a charm?’

  ‘No, Father,’ the younger man did not turn to his parent, ‘let us say compassion of some sort. I don’t know why, but compassion.’

  ‘Dear, dear. I think, my son, you will soon have to be looking out for another post,’ and the two men laughed together. Then they were both looking at Irene, whose face was now showing some anxiety, and the father said, ‘Oh, quite a small amount would cover the insurance for a number of years, so if we offer you ten pounds you would be able to add most of that to your thirty. Would that be suitable?’

  They both watched the look of relief on the face across the counter. Then it was as if she were making another great effort to speak. Seeing a scrap of pencil, she picked it up, together with the newspaper that was lying there and she wrote, very slowly, ‘How many years will five pounds cover insurance?’

  ‘Oh,’ the older man looked at his son, then said, ‘Well, that’ll have to be worked out. What d’you think, Joseph?’

  Joseph had taken a pen from his pocket and was writing hastily, and when he finished he said, ‘Eighteen years.’

  She seemed quite satisfied with their answer. Then the elderly man said, ‘Will you be coming back before then?’

  Maybe. Her lips framed the word but no sound came, but he seemed to pick up her dumb language and he translated it to, ‘Perhaps?’ and she nodded.

  It was the young man who spoke next. ‘Do you live around this way?’

  Her answer, he had surmised, would be a definite no; but her head drooped a little, then gave an affirmative nod. She lived around here then. Whereabouts? Why hadn’t he seen her? But, then, he rarely went out during working hours; when he did it would be to visit other similar business houses that included family ties, cousins and half-cousins.

  His father was now writing out four tickets, and he himself placed the two rings in a small box that he had taken from under the counter and wrote something on the lid. Then, looking at her, he said, ‘Your name, please?’

  She hesitated for a long moment before, on the margin of the sheet of newspaper, she wrote ‘Forrester’. He said, ‘Christian name?’

  She wrote the letter C, and he repeated, ‘C. Forrester,’ as he wrote it on the b
ox lid. Then he opened a ledger that was beside him and wrote in this too. Meanwhile his father had finished writing on the tickets, in a small neat hand, the descriptions of the pledges; and he handed two of the tickets to her saying, ‘Keep them safe because, you know, they are your only proof that you have lodged your precious jewellery with us. You understand? If you were to lose them, someone else might try to claim them.’

  It was the son now who put in quickly, ‘We shall also give you a receipt for the insurance of five pounds on the articles.’ He turned and looked at his father, who said, ‘Yes, of course.’ Within a few minutes she was handed another small piece of paper with ‘Isaac Gomparts, Pawnbroker and Dealer’ stamped on it, and above this a few words saying that she had insured the said articles for five pounds which would cover the period of eighteen years.

  Irene picked up the two tickets and folded them in the piece of paper, which just covered them; then she stood waiting as she watched the younger man count out thirty-five pound notes, which he handed to her, saying, ‘Count.’ But she shook her head, and he said, ‘I shall put them in an envelope for you, yes?’

  She nodded, and after he had handed them back to her in the envelope, she put the tickets in with the money, then placed the envelope in a pocket of her coat. Then the three of them stood looking at each other, until the younger man said, ‘I hope the transaction will help you.’ She looked straight at him and bowed her head once to him. Then, looking at the older man, she brought out, again seemingly painfully, the words, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Never has a customer been more welcome, madam. Good day to you.’

  Inclining her head, she nodded from one to the other and went out. Then the older man, turning to his son, said, ‘Well, well! And what came over you, may I ask, Joseph Gomparts?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said his son. ‘I can only say we’ve been dealing with a beautiful maimed woman with the face of a lost angel.’

  At this he turned and walked away, leaving his father patting the counter and shaking his head as he muttered to himself, ‘Dear God, it is as you say, don’t look for the reasons of life in your own kin. They are of you and you can’t fathom it.’

  Bella was sitting looking up at Joe. She was making no attempt now to dry the tears that were still running down her face, and her voice was cracked as she said, ‘It was that damned teddy bear; it did something to her. And yet, when she came down this morning, I was amazed at the sight of her. She looked so . . . well, so much more alive, much more conscious of everything. That’s the only way I can put it. At one time I thought she looked excited, and I thought, Good, perhaps the bear has straightened out part of her mind in some way, and on the quiet, when she was down here, I looked in her room to see if it was on her bed – she’d likely been sleeping with it – but no, it wasn’t, and when I was lookin’ in the wardrobe to see if her coat was still there, I saw it pushed right into the corner. Now if it was the incident of the bear that brought her to herself, she wouldn’t have pushed it into a corner, would she? She would have left it somewhere where she could still see it. Nevertheless, it must have done something to make her clear out.’ She had hardly finished the last words when the door that led down from the kitchen to the stone stairs burst open and Pimple, almost breathless, hurried in and held on to the table as he said, ‘She’s on her way! She’s on her way! She’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘How d’you know about it?’ Joe demanded. ‘We’ve been lookin’ all over for her.’

  ‘Yeah, you might have, but I didn’t know anything about her walkin’ out until there I was at the end of Brampton Street. It’s a long street, and I saw the figure at the other end. Now, she’s unmistakable in that get-up. At first I thought I was seeing things; and then she disappeared – into where d’you think? A pawn shop.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s what I said, Bella, into a pawn shop. Now, look. I’m not goin’ to stop because she’ll be in in a minute.’

  ‘Oh!’ Bella got to her feet. ‘Wait till I see her.’

  ‘Bella! Bella!’ Pimple now spoke in a tone of command and with a voice that could have come from someone twice his size, so deep and firm was it. ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort. If you’ll take advice, for once in your life, you’ll do nothing of the sort. You’ll open your arms to her because, if she went into that pawn shop, it was to pawn something, wasn’t it? And who would she pawn for? Not for herself, I’m sure, but for you or whatever you’re doing. At least, that’s how I see her. Anyway,’ he grabbed Joe’s arm, ‘let’s get out of this. I came the back way, running like a hare, ’cos I knew she would be making for home and I didn’t want her to see me. So she’ll come in the front way. Now, I’ve told you, Bella.’

  Bella gazed at him in amazement, and she watched him almost pull Joe towards the staircase door. As it banged closed the front door opened, and Bella stood trembling, holding tightly with one hand to the edge of the table to steady herself.

  Then, there she was, the girl, the woman, the strange one, as she had first seen her in that long, stained coat and weird hat. Only her face looked different today. She came slowly forward and when she stood before her Bella found she was quite unable to speak. She only knew she loved this poor creature and then, just as Pimple had said, she put her arms out, and Reenee went into them. Her own arms went round Bella’s stubby body, and they held each other close; and like this they stood for a full minute before Bella, pressing her slightly away, looked up into her face and said, ‘Oh, lass! You . . . you did frighten me! I thought you’d gone for good, or at least gone somewhere.’ And now she made herself ask, ‘Where . . . where have you been?’

  Reenee’s eyes were bright and her throat swelled as she endeavoured to get out the words, ‘Pawn shop.’

  ‘Pawn shop!’ exclaimed Bella. And although she knew this was where Pimple told her she had been, it was with genuine surprise that she repeated, ‘Pawn shop!’

  Reenee now indicated that Bella should sit down, and she herself sat as well. Then, unbuttoning her coat and putting her hand inside it, she brought out a brown envelope, out of which she slowly pulled a thick wad of pound notes. She did not lift out the tickets but pressed them into a corner of the envelope, which she then doubled and returned to her pocket. Then, looking at Bella, who was staring wide-eyed at the money, she began to count it out silently on to the table. When she reached thirty she stopped; and the last notes in her hand she counted separately; then putting them to one side, she pointed to them and then to herself as she again made an effort to speak. The word she muttered now was ‘Mine.’

  Bella simply gazed at her. She couldn’t believe her eyes. There were thirty pounds on the table; and when Reenee pushed them towards her, she exclaimed, ‘Oh, lass! How on earth did you get . . . ? But why? Why had you to . . . ? I mean—’ She stopped talking and gazed down on the money and said, ‘Thirty pounds. Thirty pounds,’ and added the word, ‘How?’

  Reenee pointed quickly to her left hand and the second and third fingers, then indicated what Bella clearly understood as rings.

  ‘You’ve pawned your rings? You had rings? Your wedding ring?’

  She watched the look on Reenee’s face change: the brightness went off it, but nevertheless she acknowledged Bella’s concern with a movement of her head, before she pointed again to her third finger and made two circles over the top of it.

  For a moment Bella was puzzled, and then she said, ‘Engagement ring.’

  Again Reenee’s head nodded downwards.

  Bella’s voice was hushed as she said, ‘Must have been a very, very good ring to bring all that money. But why? Why, lass?’

  On Bella’s last words Reenee tried to speak. When she wasn’t successful she pulled the newspaper towards her, and going to the mantelpiece where Bella kept a pencil she took it down and wrote along the border of the newsprint, ‘Men’s plan. Need something. Poor.’

  Bella looked at her and there were tears in her eyes again as she said, ’Oh, love. Fancy you thi
nking of them and you frightened to death of them. There’s nothing to be afraid of, they wouldn’t hurt a hair . . . All right,’ she held up a hand as she saw Reenee almost shrink back from her, ‘I didn’t mean that you should talk to them or recognise them, but I still maintain they’re good blokes and they would never hurt you in any way. Oh’ – she laughed to herself – ‘if they as much as said a wrong word to you our two would murder them, Joe and Pimple, you know.’

  The words did not bring a smile to Reenee’s face but she pointed to the five pounds that were to the side, and she said again, ‘Mine.’

  ‘Of course, lass. Of course you’ve got to keep something for yourself.’ The head was shaking but in denial, and Bella said, ‘It isn’t for yourself, but you want to keep it? Is that it?’

  The nod told Bella that she had said the right thing; and again looking at the money, she muttered, ‘I’ll have to put it some place safe. And, lass,’ she suddenly lifted her head, ‘I . . . I’ll tell the lads what you’ve done, and for them and the others, but I won’t tell them how much there’s here. Oh, no, because that will put more ideas into their heads of how it could be used. Shall we say ten pounds and bring out the other bit by bit for what is needed? How d’you feel about that?’

  The two nods from Reenee brought from Bella, ‘Good lass. Good, we’re both of the same mind. But where am I goin’ to put the remainder?’

  Reenee was now standing with her head slightly to one side as if thinking; then that semblance of a smile came to her face and she made a gesture that Bella should gather up the notes. She herself picked up the five pounds from the table and pushed them into her inner coat pocket. Then, taking Bella’s arm, she led her down the room and through a door into the little-used parlour.

  After the brightness of the kitchen this room appeared as if they had already reached late evening; Reenee led Bella to the far blank wall against which stood a roll-top desk. She pointed to the key in the lock, turned it, pushed open the lid, then pulled out one of the lower drawers that were fitted along the back of the piece and, putting her hand inside, she picked up a smaller key, pushed in the drawer and locked it. She turned and gave the key to Bella who, now smiling widely, said, ‘Eeh, lass, you must have investigated all this. But that’s the very place. Yes, yes, you’re right.’ She counted off ten of the notes and put them into her apron pocket, unlocked the drawer and laid the other twenty carefully in it, locked it, then turned . . . and handed the key to Reenee. At this Reenee shook her head vigorously and waved Bella’s hand to one side. Then she pulled down the lid, locked it and handed the second key to Bella. Then once more she found herself clasped in the arms of the little woman, who was whispering, ‘Oh, Reenee, if ever there was a light came into me life it’s been you. But God knows, my dear, how you have suffered along the way to get here. I only wish I knew.’ She put her hand up and touched Reenee’s face. ‘Oh, I wish you would speak and try to tell me all that you remember. That’s if you remember anything.