Later, David insisted on taking her back in a taxi and waiting to see her safely in. When she inserted her key in the lock and the door opened she turned and signalled to him, then went indoors.
Immediately Humphrey appeared at the sitting room door. He did not approach her but waited until she was about to pass him to go up the stairs, then said in a placatory tone, ‘Hannah, let’s talk. There’s . . . there’s something I must say to you.’
When she passed on without answering him, his tone changed and he cried, ‘Hannah! I’ve got to talk to you. All right, all right, this might be the breaking point, but I . . . I’ve got to say something.’
Halfway up the stairs she turned and walked slowly down to the hall and confronted him.
‘Come into the sitting room,’ he said.
There, she sat on a chair; he took his stand with his forearm on the mantelpiece, and he did not look at her as he said, ‘Well, it’s about divorce. I . . . I’d give you a divorce tomorrow, yes, yes, I would’ – he turned and nodded at her as if emphasising his desire to divorce her – ‘but it’s them, you see. They’re so dead set against divorce or the breaking-up of a marriage that if I were to mention it, well . . . it would—’ He stopped here as if lost for words, and he took his forearm off the mantelpiece, thrust both hands into his trouser pockets and began to pace the hearthrug.
When he still did not continue, she said quietly, ‘What you’re trying to say is that you must keep in their good books or you’ll be cut out of their will, and they’re pretty wealthy, from what I understand.’
He stopped in his walk and nipped on his lower lip before he said, ‘That’s putting it baldly; but who else have they to leave it to? I mean, if they were an ordinary couple without these prejudices . . . and I have looked after them.’
‘What?’ The word seemed to suggest she hadn’t heard, and he repeated, ‘I’ve looked after them. I mean . . . well, that’s why I’ve had to leave you at the weekends.’
She could not sit and listen to this. She stood up, then asked very quietly, ‘Is that the only reason, Humphrey?’
His tone was emphatic. ‘Why else would I want to leave you on your own, have to leave you on your own? They’re a very demanding couple. You’ve no idea how trying it is. By Sunday evening I feel worn out.’
Her reactions to this remark were twofold: first, she wanted to laugh, to turn it into a sexual joke by saying, ‘I bet you are, Humphrey’; second, she experienced again the terrifying desire to spring at him, to tear at his face. She had to get away. Quickly she turned and walked towards the door, where his voice checked her, crying, ‘Hannah! Hannah! Wait a minute. All I’m asking you is, you’ll . . . you’ll not do anything about . . . I mean, about a divorce yet. All right. All right, have your fling, if that’s what you want, but as a special favour will you please, for the time being, keep it on the side?’
‘How long is the time being? Until they both die?’
He had the grace to droop his head here as he said, ‘The old man is very near his time, and I . . . I know she’s really not well. She had cancer some time ago.’
‘And you’re waiting for them both to pop off.’
‘Don’t put it like that.’
‘How else would I put it? I must wait until they’re both dead before I can put in for a divorce? What grounds will I have then, Humphrey? You might change your mind.’
‘Oh no. Oh no, I won’t, Hannah. I promise you. I promise you.’
‘But if you’ve done nothing to cause me to divorce you, how can I get one?’
‘These things can be done amicably. Oh, yes; yes, they can. I promise you, as soon as they’re gone.’
‘So I must wait until they both die before I can get a divorce, is that it?’
‘Please don’t put it like that.’
‘Is – that – it?’ Each word was distinct.
‘Well, I suppose so.’
‘Thank you. Goodnight.’
‘Hannah.’
She took no notice of the last plea and went up to her room. There, for the first time, she locked her door for, the state he was in, she could see him going to any lengths to try to placate her.
She needn’t have worried. He didn’t approach her; neither did he make any comment when she did not get up the next morning to see to his breakfast.
However, he had hardly left the house before she was up and dressed, because she knew this state of affairs could not continue. She would have to see Mrs Drayton.
It was shortly after nine when she phoned the nursing home. Mrs Drayton answered immediately, and straight away said how strange that Hannah should ring at that time because she herself had been about to contact her to tell her she had news. And yes; yes, of course, any time. Half-past eleven? Yes, yes . . .
So here she was again facing Mrs Drayton and she was surprised at the difference in the older woman’s appearance. Apparently Mr Drayton had had two bad turns since last she was here, and now that lady was saying, ‘I don’t know what your news is, Hannah, but I’ll give you mine while I can, because any moment I may be called next door. The nurse is sitting with my husband all the while. It’s like this. You know that I got in touch with my solicitor after discovering Mrs Beggs’ duplicity, and I told you that one of his clerks was a very good sleuth. Well, James gave Tom Frint, his clerk, all the details about Humphrey, one of the main ones being that he visited us only on a Sunday. Last Sunday it should happen that Mr Frint was in the vicinity and he saw Humphrey coming here. Knowing that he leaves about five he made it his business to spend some time in the park opposite, and when Humphrey emerged he followed him.
‘First Humphrey took a bus to the near end of the town, and after alighting he seemed to disappear for a time, until Mr Frint saw him on a rough road that crossed the open farmland. Having lost sight of him again, Mr Frint found himself in a farmyard that he remembered having visited many years ago. It had then been owned by an old couple named Johnson. A man was crossing the yard and Mr Frint asked him if Mr Johnson still ran the farm, and the man laughed and said, oh no, he’d been gone for years; in fact, there had been another buyer before he himself had taken it over. And now Mr Frint realised he must fabricate his reasons for being there: Did he think that the old couple were living hereabouts, or any of their relatives, because his firm was making enquiries about them. He was from Morgan the solicitors.
‘The farmer appeared very interested and said, well, he didn’t think so, but there was a couple living in a cottage a quarter of a mile further along the road. Perhaps they were relatives of the Johnsons. They were called Beggs, just a young couple; at least, she was young. She was called Daisy and he was Humphrey. He was older, he would say, perhaps in his forties, and he worked somewhere in the City, and only got down at the weekends. They’d just had their second child, the other one being only eighteen months. They have them fast these days.
‘As you may imagine, Mr Frint had heard all he wanted to hear.’
Mrs Drayton now spread her hands out wide , and, looking at Hannah, she said sadly, ‘This time last week I . . . I was just sad that he had betrayed our confidence and treated us in this way, but with this new knowledge I feel angry, not only for myself but for you, because you had indicated you wanted children and he deprived you of them. Perhaps you might have been, like me, unable to bear them, but he didn’t give you the opportunity.’
Hannah did not answer. She was too consumed with anger and bitterness, and again to such an extent that it amazed her that she was capable of such feelings. Of love, yes, and of hate also.
Mrs Drayton’s hand now came on to hers, for Hannah’s index finger had been unconsciously scraping at the material of her coat and the older woman’s voice was soft as she said, ‘Try not to take it to heart so much, my dear; yet I know exactly how you’re feeling, you want to do something despe
rate.’
At this, Hannah nodded, saying, ‘He . . . he was waiting for me last night when I returned at about ten o’clock. We’d had words, very strong words, before I left the house and just as I was closing the front door I mentioned divorce, and this is the word that I’m sure he’s afraid of. In fact, I know he is because there he was, all placating, wanting to talk to me quietly, and so on, and the gist of it was—’
She closed her eyes and turned her head away, and when she didn’t go on Mrs Drayton said, ‘Yes, my dear? Tell me exactly what he said.’
‘Well, he wanted me to promise to hold all talk of divorce until—’
Again she couldn’t finish, but Mrs Drayton did so for her: ‘Until we were both dead, is that it?’
Hannah did not answer but looked down at their joined hands. Mrs Drayton said quietly, ‘Somehow, I know he’s been waiting for that for a long time. Before his double life was exposed I had a very odd feeling about him and his supposed caring for us. As he has made you aware, we are against divorce: we feel that couples should work it out between themselves and try to reconcile matters. He knows that if the talk of divorce were to arise, one of your main points would be his neglect at weekends, and where would he be then? Oh, he knows he’s in a tight corner, does Humphrey; but he doesn’t realise just how tight. We’re not going to be made out the doddering old fools that he imagines we are. Oh, no. And a business like this makes you think of the past, and I definitely recall finding him out in lies when he was a boy, and my husband explaining them away because he was very fond of him. This business has really broken George up, but as I want justice to be done I had to make things plain to him and show Humphrey in his true colours. I’m sure now that he has had his suspicions for some time about Humphrey’s very curtailed Sunday visits. It’s nearly always the same time, early afternoon . . . then, this Sunday I don’t know how my husband contained himself when Humphrey told him that you—’ She patted Hannah’s hand now, saying, ‘Now don’t get upset, but we were informed that you had run up a bill for an expensive outfit that neither he nor you could in any way afford.’
‘Oh, no!’
‘Yes, my dear; and it proves how much my husband now realises his duplicity that he said nothing, but just looked at this man he had treated as a son for so long. He had educated him and tried to instil his own values into him. I think this is what’s hitting him now: the fact that this man who has been in his house for so many years has what are virtually criminal tendencies. The fact that he’s living a double life should, as you know, be enough, but that he has been enabled to live that double life only by blackening the character of his wife has got through to my husband as nothing else could; and I feel now that you wanted to see me today to ask to break your promise and come out into the open. I know how you feel, but could you just hold on for a few more days, because—’ Her voice broke here, and taking her handkerchief she pressed it over her mouth.
Hannah rose quickly from her chair and put her hand on Mrs Drayton’s shoulder, saying, ‘Please! Please don’t upset yourself. I’ll do whatever you wish.’
There was a silence between them for a short while, then Mrs Drayton said, ‘Thank you, my dear. It . . . it won’t be for long. And there is another thing. When my husband goes, I . . . I don’t intend to inform Humphrey at his office. No matter when it is, I shall wait until the following Sunday. Nor will I inform Mrs Beggs, because she would be bound to get word to him. She only visits here when I invite her, as I’ve made it plain to her that I would rather she remained in the house to take calls from friends and such and then to phone me here. But most of my friends already phone me here and, you know, you would have thought, being supposedly such a faithful servant, she would have got in touch every day to see how my husband is. But no; if she has to ring, she asks after him, certainly, then she always finishes up that everything is all right at home: our budgerigar is still very happy and the goldfish in the garden pond are all still intact since we had the wire netting put over to save them from marauding cats. I think of you, Hannah, every time I hear that woman’s voice, or Humphrey emphasising what a treasure she is. I don’t remember his being so fond of her when he was younger; in fact, after she had allowed her daughter to marry the gardener he was incensed.’
The door opened and the nurse appeared saying quietly, ‘Mrs Drayton.’
At this the older woman got hastily to her feet, and still holding Hannah’s hand she said, ‘Keep in touch, my dear. What . . . whatever transpires at this end, I’ll phone you.’
Hannah’s voice was full as she said, ‘I’m terribly sorry.’
‘I know you are, dear, and I only wish that we had previously become as well acquainted as we are now. My husband regrets this deeply. Anyway, goodbye for the present, my dear.’
Hannah stood in the room for a moment longer trying to compose herself. The feeling of bitterness and hate was still in her, but also a deep compassion for this woman whom, over the years, she had been made to dislike.
She did not return home, but went instead to Janie’s. And when she had finished telling her of all that had taken place, Janie said, ‘I won’t mention this to Eddie yet.’
Hannah could believe her this time, because she knew that Eddie, with the help of his friends, would be quite capable of settling this matter in his own way. And Janie confirmed this when she added, ‘I wouldn’t dare mention this to him ’cos I know what he’d do. I feel like doing it myself, the dirty bugger. Anyway, he’ll get his come-uppance if your mother-in-law, or whatever you call her, knows anything about it, and, oh, I wish I could be there at the time. D’you think they’ll cut him out of their will altogether?’
‘I don’t doubt it, the way she’s feeling. And her husband too, I now understand. And, you know, to think that he might have got away with it all if Mrs Drayton hadn’t happened to phone me on that particular Saturday morning.’
‘You’ve taken to her, then?’
‘Yes; strange, but I have, and she to me, I think, and the old man too. Oh, he was really nice; he even apologised to me for the way I’d been treated. I’ve only been there twice, but each meeting has been very emotional. I’ve wanted to howl my eyes out.’
‘Well, get on with it while I go and make a cup of tea. But you haven’t said anything about your life and the bookworm. I’ve still to hear about how that’s progressing.’
‘There’s only one word for it – wonderful!’
As Janie left the room she exclaimed, ‘Oh, how I wish I were young again, and hadn’t four kids, and a fella who thinks of nothing but fruit.’
Hannah lay back in her chair, chuckling at this beloved sister, yet at the same time knowing that what she really wanted to do was cry.
As she always did, Hannah had felt a little lighter as she left Janie’s; but the feeling was soon dispersed as she entered her own house, because the whole atmosphere now portended strife.
The feeling did not lessen over the Wednesday and Thursday. She and Humphrey had not exchanged a word; not even as he went out for his Thursday bridge did he make any comment.
No sooner had he left the house than she ordered a taxi to take her and a large case of her belongings, which she had already packed and waiting, to David’s.
It was half-past ten before she returned from David’s, again by taxi. Humphrey had already arrived. His coat lay over the back of a chair, which in a subtle way expressed his state of mind. They did not exchange any words until after she was in her room, when he came to her door and said, ‘I’m taking a day off tomorrow. My uncle . . . er . . . isn’t at all well.’
She made no reply.
It was some seconds after speaking that he left her door. And immediately after she heard his own close she got out of bed and locked her door; but again she needn’t have worried on that score.
At ten o’clock the next morning she phoned the nursin
g home and asked to speak to Mrs Drayton. She told her that they might get a visit from Humphrey, as he had taken an extra day off because he understood his uncle wasn’t at all well.
To this Mrs Drayton simply said, ‘Well, we’ll see, Hannah, we’ll see.’
When Hannah asked how Mr Drayton was there was a pause before his wife said, ‘He’s resting peacefully. He’s not in any pain and he’s quite conscious of all that’s going on around him; however, he’s very low.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m sure you are, my dear. Goodbye. I’ll keep you informed.’
‘Goodbye.’
Hannah could have slept at David’s on the Friday night but she didn’t, because she felt that Mrs Drayton would soon be phoning her; and so when the phone rang around ten o’clock on the Saturday morning and she heard Mrs Drayton’s voice, she knew what she was about to hear.
‘My . . . my husband passed away yesterday at half-past three, Hannah. And, no, we had no visit from Humphrey; and as I’m not supposed to know where he is I can’t inform him, so he won’t know anything about my husband until he calls tomorrow afternoon. Could I ask you to keep silent until after the funeral, Hannah? It’ll be on Tuesday morning.’
‘Yes, of course, Mrs Drayton. Yes, of course. I’ll do whatever you ask.’
‘Well, you won’t have long to wait, because the will will be read in the afternoon. From then on things will begin to move your way.’
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Drayton. Don’t do anything that’s going to upset you any more than you are at present. I can wait.’
‘Thank you, Hannah. Thank you.’
The Thursday Friend Page 21