by James Hanley
‘I shouldn’t have thought it was desperate, yet I shouldn’t have thought it wise.’
‘Don’t you like me?’ asked Captain Fury. ‘I mean, are you sorry she married me?’
‘My dear chap, I never think in that fashion. What has it got to do with me? I’m not worried about who she married—but why she married. But there again I’m stretching the point. It’s not necessary. You ask me if I like you. Well—yes I do. I mean as far as it goes. I don’t know you.’
‘Mr. Downey, I begin to have an idea why your sister married me, but as it would hardly be pleasing to you I won’t tell you. I don’t know you either. You are an utter stranger! Whether we know each other better as time goes on depends not on me, or you, but simply on Sheila. I know nothing about your people or your home. Nor do I know why she ran away. She need never tell me now. I don’t want even to be bothered going into things. We are very happy. I knew that from the beginning I could have dragged it all out of her. But why bother? We loved each other, we are both happy. Why bother?’
Yes, why bother? He wasn’t even interested in this fellow or his father or his mother or his childhood. He sipped his coffee, sipped his brandy. And finally there was nothing more to sip. He sat up in his chair, surveyed the plates, the dishes, the Lieutenant, the panelled wall behind him. A clock chimed.
‘Some more hock,’ said the Lieutenant, but unfortunately the bottles were empty.
‘I still think I’ll have that beer,’ said Desmond. Why not? Somehow the meal didn’t seem right or complete without that beer.
The Lieutenant smiled. ‘Good! Waiter?’
And again Desmond said to himself. ‘What a voice! What a voice. Who could think that that tall weak-looking creature had something bronze-like in his voice?’
‘A large beer,’ he said. ‘Large. Bring me a Benedictine, waiter. And coffee.’
‘Yes, sir,’ and the human cipher was gone again.
The Lieutenant leaned on the table, then on his hands. A knife crashed to the floor. People looked. Desmond picked it up. ‘There’s nothing mysterious, or marvellous, or outstanding about Sheila,’ began the Lieutenant, ‘I mean—well——’
Oh! thought Desmond. Wasn’t there! Wasn’t there something marvellous? There just was. Such a face—such lovely eyes and hair—such a smile. And what a body. What grace! Good Lord, wasn’t there! Did this fellow ever see a woman, a beautiful woman, a beautiful, tantalizing, clever creature? And a weak creature. But he had made her strong. He knew what she wanted. Oh yes. He knew.
‘She’s just one of those young women who has lived in a large house in the country,’ went on the Lieutenant. ‘And it is a beautiful home still. But there was nothing to do. I mean—oh well, you understand.’
Desmond smiled. ‘You understand.’ Perhaps he did and perhaps he didn’t. What matter? How talkative the Lieutenant was getting. Surely it wasn’t the sherry and the hock mixed. And at this moment the waiter arrived with beer and the liqueur.
‘Thanks! Yes, there was a kind of monotony in that living, I suppose. Yet I think she was foolish to go away like that. You may like a house in the country or you may not. But the point about that kind of living is that the more beautiful it gets, the more you love it, the sadder it gets, you know——’ The Lieutenant laughed.
So did Desmond. It was rather funny. Presuming he knew everything. He sipped his beer, put the glass down, watched the other finger his liqueur. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘She’s a little spoiled, that’s all. It’s—oh—well, a long time since I saw her. And yesterday, you know I got a queer sort of feeling, I can’t quite describe it. I mean when I saw her—at last. After seven years. You know how you feel, say if you’re in the middle of a desert or lost in some huge city, and you are amongst strangers and you feel lost. And then you see somebody, a friend, even an utter stranger who has the same sort of—well, he’s done what you’ve done, lived like you, liked things you like——That sort of thing, and you feel at last, here’s something to which I do belong. That’s how I feel. She was a funny little girl too. She grew up with the idea that everything would be the same—nothing change. We almost lived in each other, you might say. We played, dreamed, studied, wondered together, and we were together. Then I went into the Navy. It quite shocked her. The funny creature thought that I would stay with her for ever. She couldn’t understand why I should ever go away.’
Desmond drank. ‘Why did you go, then?’ he asked.
‘Waiter!’ and when he came: ‘Bring me a whisky and soda, please.’
‘You might as well ask me why I grew up,’ replied Lieutenant Downey. What a silly question! But then there was something silly-looking about the fellow. And he looked straight into Captain Fury’s face. ‘You don’t know why, Captain,’ he said.
‘Whisky and soda, sir.’
‘I say, waiter. You might bring me one too,’ said Captain Fury.
‘Because she hated living there, that’s all.’
‘It isn’t all. I’ll tell you something. Eight years ago I was home on leave from China; my father wasn’t there. He’d gone. That was another shock, Captain. Nobody could understand. He had always loved his home. My mother took it very badly, very badly. Something broke in her. And what happened to her happened to my sister. I suppose it had to. They were like one person.’
‘Is he getting a little sozzled?’ thought Desmond. ‘Or am I?’
‘Yes. I see,’ he said, and then he said to himself: ‘Hang it. I’m getting drunk.’
‘My father often used to go to London on business. And one week-end he returned, and there was a young woman with him. A dreadful creature so I’ve been told. I’ve never seen her. Mother didn’t know her. Sheila didn’t know her. She was an absolute stranger and for a stranger awfully fond of Dad. That kind of person, d’you understand?’
Did he understand—didn’t he understand? And Lieutenant Downey watched Captain Fury lean farther forward over the table. If he had been able to see out of the Captain’s eye he would have had the pleasure of seeing continuous lines of waiters approaching with glasses of whisky and soda, and bottles of hock. And these same glasses and bottles go sliding across to the other side of the table at the edge of which lay a large open mouth. It steadily consumed their contents.
‘That kind of woman. Father said, “A friend of mine. Come for the week-end.” Mother was surprised. Still, she did her best, without ever expecting the worst. Sheila loathed her. At least so she said. Mother said: “You might have let me know, Patrick, that you were bringing a friend down.” I don’t know what the friend said, or did, nor how she looked. But it gave mother a bit of a shock. She had never associated father with women, not in that way. But she offered to have the spare room got ready. The friend could sleep in that. Whereon father said: “Not at all. You sleep in the spare room. Ada’s sleeping with me.” That was all he said, and so far as I know they slept together and the next morning father went, taking this woman with him. That’s all—and that, Captain, is why Sheila left. I couldn’t blame her. But on the other hand there was mother. It was leaving her. It was dreadful. I know what my sister must have been thinking. If I stay something like that will happen to me. It’s only what I think, mind you,’ and he looked up, or rather down at the Captain. He called: ‘Waiter! Bring me a whisky and soda. Same for the Captain, please.’
Whatever was the matter with the Captain? Then the Captain spoke.
‘Bloody interesting, bloody—interesting! Sheila’s great! She’s my wife, you know. But you—Christ, I don’t know who you are! Bring me a beer, waiter. And hurry up with it.’
Was the Captain drunk? Not quite. He looked up at Lieutenant Downey. ‘So you want her to go back to that. H’m! She’s got to ask me first.’
‘Whisky and soda, sir.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You know, Fury, I think you ought to go over there. I rather think you’d like it.’
What was he saying? That that fellow should go over there. Good God!<
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‘Bloody interesting!’ muttered the Captain, whilst the line of waiters grew larger, the glasses taller, and the mouth began to gulp.
‘Yes, I’m afraid things are rather gone to the devil,’ went on the Lieutenant. ‘Nobody has seen father since. And poor mother! I hardly dare think about that. She has lost all interest in life. As for that other person,’ here the Lieutenant became animated, ‘yes, our whole life is now run by a housekeeper that dad engaged after he’d left. He wouldn’t let mother engage one. One might as well say the devil had chosen her. She has taken over everything. Everything, you know, Captain …’
‘Bloody interesting! Make my wife laugh. Bloody interesting!’
‘That’s why I set out to find my sister. And now I want her to go back. Just to see mother. I’m most sorry for mother. Sometimes I feel that …’
‘Bloody funny!’ said Desmond, ‘I even feel that——Oh yes, bloody interesting! Waiter! Hey there, waiter!’ and, having called his loudest, Desmond Fury sat up.
Where were the waiters? The rows and rows of waiters. Of course! They were dancing about on the panelling.
‘You know, Mr. Downey, I used to think—Ah Christ, what does it matter, anyhow! What you think’s no bloody use. It’s what you do. Yes, sir. I know! I know! Bloody interesting! You people think. We do—I mean they do——No, blast it, I’ve got it wrong. Not they but we—where was I? Lemme see! Oh, yes. You think, what you think the bloody world does! That’s it. Got it! You might bring me a large beer—draught beer if you don’t mind’—laughing suddenly—‘colour doesn’t matter. Yes, bloody interesting! Nice feller made of cotton wool. Oh yes. This room is full of bastards. Look at them! Look at the bastards who think! My God! The bastards who think for the world. Oh! Ha! Ha!’
‘Beer, sir.’
‘No. No! Not nice to laugh. What say, Mr. Downey? Not nice to laugh here. The sods …’
Desmond Fury’s head rocked, but not for long. ‘Damn! I thought it was my head rocking. It’s his. Wake up, Mr. Downey. Not getting tight on that stuff.’
‘Once I used to think that life would be one long——’
‘So did I, Mr. Downey. So do I. Sweating my guts out on the length, you know. One long, bloody farce! But now, here I am amongst the sods!’
He laughed; Lieutenant Downey laughed. The table shook a little. In a far corner two idle waiters watched them. Money to burn. The bastards. That’s what they were. Drink, drink, drink! Ordering everybody around. The bastards.
‘’Course if I had been home at this time, well, I would have knocked my father down. Trouble with him was nobody ever did. The world left him alone. He liked it. It left mother alone, Sheila alone. Only Sheila hated that.’
‘Bloody interesting! Must talk to her about that. Loved my brother once. Oh yes. Silly little bastard’s in gaol now. Bloody interesting, Mr. Downey! Please to meet you. No. Don’t shake hands. Mine might crush yours. Never know.’
The Lieutenant nodded. Desmond nodded.
‘How often you do that?’ Desmond said.
‘Not often, but somehow I feel that since my sister left everything began to break up. And my father seems to have disappeared. The place is rotting away.’
‘Bloody funny that!’
‘Fourteen thousand acres.’
‘Bloody interesting!’
‘Woods, lakes, parks, farms, rivers.’
‘Bloody curious that!’
‘The most fertile land in Ireland.’
‘Bloody interesting!’
‘And the Ram’s horns are shown.’
‘Bloody interesting!’
‘Come here, waiter! Come here, you! More beer. Hock and whisky for the Lieutenant.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘No, sir. Say it again.’ Desmond said, grinned broadly at the man in white.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Bloody interesting! Oh, bloody funny! Very nice. “Yes, sir! No, sir.” Fine.’
‘Some people think that that kind of life—I mean the life without contacts outside its own rigid circle—is bad. But it’s not. Contacts in life aren’t everything. I learned that from mother. And she was defeated by father.’
‘Bloody funny! Defeated? What for? Because Sheila wouldn’t go away—aye, I don’t know. Yes, sir. No, sir! Just look at these greedy bastards. Eating, eating!’
‘’I’m drunk.’
‘You’re not.’
‘I am.’
‘Rot! Feeling cheery. Feeling cheery. Meeting Sheila. Bloody interesting! Is very, very——’
‘But I am drunk.’
‘’Course you’re not. Bloody fool! Hey there, waiter! Come here a minute.’
‘Come, Fury, you’re getting slightly clumsy now. We must have a talk.’
‘Talk! Oh yes. Bloody interesting! Run away from thousands of fertile lands. Married a plate—Captain Fury. Oh, bloody interesting!’
Lieutenant Downey had looked very cheery, had seemed rather drunk. But now he was on his feet. Leaning over the Captain.
‘Good heavens! A whisky and a few glasses of beer.’
‘Better get out of this,’ he said, and managed to get free of the table without getting too clumsy. He took Captain Fury by the arm, but an obliging waiter now took both their arms, walked them slowly to the door. And then the Lieutenant was himself again. Was it the walk across the floor or was it something instinctive that made him get this vital hold on himself?
‘Waiter! Get a taxi.’
When it came he bundled them both into it, and received his tip with good grace.
‘Where to, sir?’
‘Anywhere! Drive,’ said the Lieutenant.
‘Where to?’ asked the man. ‘Must know where to.’
There seemed only one place to which they could go. He hadn’t forgotten the address.
‘Repton Park Road,’ he said.
The taxi-cab chugged away from the door. Captain Fury fell back heavily against the seat. Lieutenant Downey pulled down the window to get some air. He whistled a tune as the cab sped along. Captain Fury dozed—began to snore—sat up bleary-eyed, looked around.
‘What ship is this? Am I drunk, Mr. Downey?’ and without even bothering for an answer settled himself down for what looked like a comfortable sleep.
When eventually they reached the house it seemed that the Captain was far more drunk than the Lieutenant, and both the driver and the Lieutenant managed to help him to his door. Fortunately for Desmond, Alice, who didn’t belong anywhere, and ‘who was she anyhow?’ was out. Sheila herself opened the door. She stared at all three.
What was this? What did it mean? That fellow back here again. After all she had said to him only yesterday. She watched them help her husband into the hall. She was speechless. The taxi-cab went away.
‘Hello, Sheila,’ said Lieutenant Downey, suddenly cheery, and he pecked her cheek.
‘I told him not to bring you here, John,’ she began, but there he was holding on to the redoubtable Captain and smiling in her face; and even seeing a trace of that old boyishness there did not lessen the humility that she now felt. He had promised to come back early. It was nearly four o’clock. And here, on the step before her, was the very person she did not want to see.
Desmond stood upright, smiled sheepishly at his wife. ‘’Lo, darling. You see, ducky, instead of him bringing me—I brought him!’ and still smiling he went on down the hall, Sheila following them. Eventually they got him to his room. Lieutenant Downey put him across the bed. When he looked at his sister, her look said: ‘Get out!’ This he did, and descended the stairs, admired the furnishing, and ran his hand up and down the banister.
‘You’re drunk. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, she said as she began to undo his tunic. This big, hulking child had so far been controlled. To-day was unfortunate. What would to-morrow be like?’ You fool, Desmond!’ she said.
‘Fourteen thousand parks, lands, lakes, trees. Oh! Bloody interesting! Waiter! Waiter!’
She bent over him as
she dragged off his tunic. His face was livid.
‘I thought that at least—that with him there—you’d be—well——Oh, it doesn’t matter. There!’ She flung his tie to the floor.
Desmond opened his eyes. Perhaps it was the scent, or was it just the feel of her being there.
‘Did you see your mother?’ she asked, taking off a boot.
‘Bloody interesting! You get out. She’s with me!’Night, everybody. Sad and beautiful. Life is so—yes’Course it is. Bloody——’
‘Did you see your mother, Des?’ She bent down and kissed him. A big, silly brute.
‘Mother! No! I forgot. What time is it? Fourteen thousand trees. Christ!’
He opened his eyes wider, and then he seemed to see her, to realize her for the first time. ‘’Lo, Sheila! Darling!’ and with a kind of spring he had both arms around her. ‘Sheila, ‘lo, Sheila! Come into bed. Come on, Sheila. Fourteen thousand miles of trees. Christ! All there! Sheila! Come on!’
‘Is this what to-morrow will mean?’ she wondered. ‘You’re drunk, and you’re behaving like a fool.’
She struck him in the face. Then she went downstairs to see the Lieutenant.
‘And you ought to know better!’ she said. ‘I thought you would.’
She stood in the middle of the hall where John Downey still appeared to like the shape of the banisters and the high polish on them.
‘But he was so funny!’ he said. ‘Don’t be nasty, dear. I—oh, Sheila, I wish you knew—it’s so long now—and mother over there—it’s dreadful! Won’t you let me even explain? You see,’ and suddenly hands on her shoulders, he was leaning over her, begging, pleading, explaining. She listened in silence. Finally they both sat down.
‘John! Have I to go back there just because mother was such a fool that she——? Oh no! I’ve had enough of all that. It isn’t life. It was just a long death—a long quiet death with flowers and silence and all the beautiful peace that rots. John! I wish you hadn’t come. You thought him funny! Why? Because he hasn’t your fine cut, or because he’s just a great big child. But for me it’s living, and I love him. He’s proud just like you—he’s alive, and even his greed is more human than that which made for us the life we had to live there! No! I wouldn’t go back. Let it rot! If we had stayed we would have rotted with it. That, I was afraid of. Desmond is my life, and if he is funny to you, what matter? And now there isn’t a single reason why you should stay, is there? And don’t for heaven’s sake slobber over my shoulders! I wish you had never come—never come.’