The Thursday Friend

by Catherine Cookson

  Let the cat out of the bag? He was indeed mad; but she couldn’t see anything funny about it; he was dangerous. At this moment she knew he was capable of what he had threatened, that is of throttling her. She was thankful that the taxi driver was still outside.

  She watched Humphrey making an effort to control his temper as he said, ‘I’ll . . . I’ll strike a bargain with you. I’ll keep my mouth shut about where you’re going now, and your carryings-on. She doesn’t know anything about that, does she? No, by God! or you wouldn’t have got a penny from her. A fornicating wife. Huh! My double life would have paled before it. So there you are: I’ll keep quiet if you’ll share what is rightly mine.’

  She managed to keep her voice steady and therefore more aggravating to him as she said, ‘She’s aware that you have a fornicating wife.’ He stepped back from her, screwed up his eyes and said, ‘Oh, no! You don’t put that one over on me too. I know her better than you do. I lived with her, I lived with them both. For two narrow-minded individuals it would be hard to find their equals. Well, what about it?’

  ‘My answer to that, Humphrey, is, if I had fifty thousand pounds in my hand and there was a fire in the grate, I’d burn every penny of it before I’d let you touch it. And as for my standing with Mrs Drayton, get on the phone and tell her. Go on, see what happens.’

  ‘You think I wouldn’t?’

  ‘No, I’m sure you would if you thought it would blacken me.’

  He stared at her, not knowing how to take her. Then he said, ‘You’re putting me to the test, aren’t you? Because I’d do it, you know; but if you’re sensible we can both come out of this with something. All right, I did the dirty on you, but there was no other way. I always wanted Daisy, and they knew that, and they stopped me. So I took the only way out, and you were the price; and later my alibi. And in a way I’m sorry; but I was always decent to you. You seem to forget that.’

  ‘I forget nothing that you did, Humphrey, nothing. Nor what you didn’t do.’

  His eyes narrowed as if he were searching in his mind, but when she said, ‘Will you move and let me take my chair out?’ he reverted to his original manner and cried, ‘No, I won’t! Neither you nor the chair goes until we come to an understanding; and I tell you, I’ll get on that phone and show you up to her for what you really are.’

  ‘Do that, Humphrey. Do it.’ Her voice was emphatic. He began, ‘You . . . ’ then he stopped. Instead of continuing, he picked up the phone and rang the number of the nursing home.

  The receiver pressed to his ear, his eyes over the top of it holding Hannah’s, they waited. Then his head jerked and he said, ‘This is Humphrey. I’m going to tell you something you didn’t know, and it’s this. My maligned wife, as you think of her, is hoodwinking you as much as I was, for she’s got a man on the side and is now packing her things to go to live with him. How about that?’

  Hannah watched him as he said, ‘Are you there?’

  What he then heard made his jaw drop, for Mrs Drayton said, ‘Oh, I thought that Hannah would be gone to join her friend before you reached home. And yes, Humphrey, I know all about Hannah’s friendship. She told Mr Drayton and me exactly what had happened. Of course, it took a long time for her to take this step, almost three years, because she only met this gentleman recently. Mr Drayton was greatly touched by her honesty, for she kept nothing back. Don’t you think it remarkable that she didn’t take this step for nearly three years? Is there anything more you’d like to tell me, Humphrey?’

  As if it had become alive, the receiver was replaced in the cradle. Then Humphrey turned his amazed gaze on Hannah. His whole body was trembling, and she knew a moment of intense fear. It was then, thrusting the revolving seat to one side, that she sprang for the door; but he was there before her, and when she felt her coat being ripped from the collar downwards and heard the accompanying volley of oaths and curses she thrust out her hands and clawed at his face. The next moment his hands were on her throat, and she could only emit a stifled scream as he dragged her roughly to the wall and held her there. It was as the door burst open that she brought her knee up into Humphrey’s groin and he fell backwards, almost colliding with the taxi driver who, seeing the bent figure with blood covering his face, said, ‘Serves you bloody well right, I’d say. Come on, missis.’

  Hannah was sliding down the wall as the bracing voice demanded, ‘Look! stand up! Here, let me help you.’ He lifted up the shredded garment and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then, with his arm around her, he led her to the taxi, where he said, ‘I don’t think I’ll go back for your chair, missis, because I don’t want to meet him when he comes round. From what I heard, he’s a bloody menace.’

  When Peter answered the bell, the taxi driver said, ‘I’ve a visitor here for you, but she’s in a bad way.’

  David pushed past Peter, and when he saw Hannah trying to lift herself from the taxi seat he ran down the steps; then with the help of the taxi driver he carried her into the flat and laid her on the couch.

  The taxi driver now turned to Peter and said, ‘Bloody menace of a man back there! It’s a good job I had me ear to the door. He could’ve done for her. He was trying to throttle her; and by the look of it she must have clawed his face to bits. You never know what you’re going to come across in this business!’

  ‘Well, thank you very much for seeing to her; and I’m very glad you were there,’ said Peter. Then he added, ‘Wait a minute. Has she any luggage with her?’

  ‘Oh, yes. There’s bits and pieces on the back seat.’

  Later, looking at the bundle of notes in his hand, the taxi driver said, ‘Thanks very much, sir. I’m only glad I was there at the time. I hope she’ll be all right.’

  Hannah did not remember much that went on after she lay down on the couch. Although she was aware that Peter and David were nearby, and hazily that her throat was sore and that she was sore about her shoulders, she was also aware that she was consumed with fear.

  The extent of her injuries became plain when David was able to take her into the bedroom and undress her, to reveal two large bruises on her shoulder blades, but more severe were those on her neck.

  By evening, the swellings had darkened so much that David suggested calling in the doctor, but Peter said, ‘I think, in her state, it would only distress her the more; but I have some ointment upstairs. We used it on the horses, you know, marvellous for grazes and bruises. I use it myself from time to time for my rheumaticky knee.’

  As David applied the ointment to Hannah’s swollen neck he wished really heartily that he could have five minutes with that man . . .

  The next morning when the phone rang Peter answered it, and when a female voice asked to speak to Mrs Drayton Junior, he asked who was speaking, and was told it was Mrs Drayton Senior. Saying, ‘Would you mind waiting a moment, madam?’ he softly called to David, who was about to enter the bedroom, ‘It’s Mrs Drayton. I think you’d better deal with it.’

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Drayton,’ David said. ‘I’m Hannah’s friend David, David Craventon. I’m sorry she can’t come to the phone at the moment; she’s still in a very low state after what happened yesterday.’

  ‘What did happen?’

  ‘Her husband beat her up and tried to throttle her, and had it not been for a taxi driver he would probably have succeeded.’

  ‘Oh, no! Surely he wouldn’t go to those lengths.’

  ‘He did, I’m afraid. When the taxi driver brought her here she had to be carried from the cab. He’d torn her coat off her.’

  ‘Oh, dear me! dear me! I never imagined, no, never, that he’d stoop to that. I’m terribly sorry. Will you tell her so? May . . . may I come and visit her?’

  ‘Yes; yes, of course. I’m sure she’d be very pleased to see you.’

  ‘May I say tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes; that’ll be fine.’
r />   ‘Thank you. Goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye, Mrs Drayton.’

  Before making his way to the bedroom, he hurried to the kitchen and there he said, ‘Damn silly not having a connection in the bedroom. Will you see to it, Peter?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  David turned about quickly and crossed the hall to the bedroom, and there, smiling down on Hannah, he said, ‘That was your friend Mrs Drayton on the phone.’

  ‘Oh. Oh, that was nice of her.’

  ‘She asked if she could come and see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, then I must get up.’

  ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort. There’s no need for you to get up; but if you do get up it’ll be only to lie on the couch, all right?’

  Hannah swallowed painfully. ‘Could you do something for me? Ring Janie to tell her where I am? I couldn’t bear her to ring the house and get Humphrey in his present state.’

  ‘Yes, of course, of course. Oh, and I’ve just remembered: Gilly and Natasha will be popping in tomorrow as well, so I’ll have to stay there to hold the fort. I can do most of the correspondence from here, but when he’s out he insists on somebody being in his place. Time and again I’ve told him we need another assistant, and the answer is always yes, when we make some money then we’ll be able to afford someone else. That’s the biggest joke going; when he makes some money.’

  ‘Is he all that rich?’

  ‘Well, let’s say he’s very rich. No; they say very rich men don’t know how much they’re worth, but Gilly does; and to the ordinary person he’s the kind who counts every penny, yet nobody knows how many people he supports on the quiet. Oh, he’s a strange man, is Gilly.’

  She put a hand on his cheek as she said softly, ‘And you like him?’

  And at this he whispered to her, with his lips close to her ears, ‘I’ll let you into a secret; I’ve never told it to anyone else, but . . . but he’s my third love.’

  ‘Your third?’ She let her lips rest against his for a moment; and then she said, ‘Who is your second?’

  ‘That fellow in the kitchen; and the first is the most beautiful woman in the world.’

  ‘Oh, David. David. What would I have done without you, and what would I do without you, and what will I do without you if ever I lose you? I read a poem once about a woman who said that love was three quarters pain and a quarter anxiety, and I think she’s right: I’m learning that it is like that.’

  ‘Well, you must unlearn it, because love is full of pain only when it concerns the pain of the loved one. If they both love together, it’s joy. I would admit to a little anxiety, that is, being anxious about the welfare of the beloved, but who would want to love if they knew it was to be all pain?’

  ‘I would.’

  And she was right, that poetess, because the actual fact of loving is like a pain in the heart. ‘Look.’ He took her face between his hands and gently stroked her cheek. ‘You’re not to think like that. Whatever happens to us, as long as we’re together it’ll be love. Painless love, joyful love, happy love.’ Laughing now, he said, ‘And how many more adjectives can I apply to it: glorious love, exquisite love, everlasting love, ad infinitum.’

  ‘Don’t make me laugh, my neck still hurts.’

  ‘Oh, your poor neck. Your poor neck.’

  When he kissed it she put her hand on his head and, looking across him and into the future, there was still that feeling of anxiety tinged with dread. About what she couldn’t tell, for she couldn’t see Humphrey doing her any more harm; yet there it was, and the feeling was strong.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mrs Drayton arrived about three o’clock in the afternoon, by hired car, and the uniformed chauffeur followed her into the flat, carrying in one hand a huge basket of flowers and in the other an ornamental basket of fruit. When she bent over her and kissed her on the cheek, all Hannah could say was, ‘Oh, Mrs Drayton. They’re beautiful, beautiful. You’re so kind.’

  Peter placed the chair close to the couch head and Mrs Drayton turned to him and surveyed him for a moment before saying, ‘Thank you;’ and Hannah smiled to herself as she thought, Peter is being dismissed as being not the chosen man; he is too old.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Oh, much better. Much better, thanks.’

  ‘Your . . . your friend tells me that Humphrey tried to throttle you.’

  ‘Yes; I’d say he did his utmost; and he might have succeeded if it hadn’t been for the taxi driver. I’ll always admire taxi drivers after this.’

  ‘Let me see.’ Mrs Drayton’s hand gently pulled aside the turned-up collar of Hannah’s dressing gown, then exclaimed, ‘My goodness! I can’t believe it. He must have had his thumbs on your windpipe.’

  ‘I’m not sure where he had them, Mrs Drayton, I only know that things went very misty in my mind after my contact with the wall.’

  Mrs Drayton now sat back in her chair and, shaking her head slowly, said, ‘I don’t want to believe this of him. I could understand his shouting and bawling and threatening when his double life was exposed – it must have been a colossal shock – but that’s no excuse for using such force on you. Anyway, where do we go from here, my dear?’

  ‘Oh,’ Hannah clasped and unclasped her hands, which were lying on top of the rug, before she said, ‘David has put it in the hands of his solicitor; the application for my divorce, I mean.’

  Mrs Drayton said quietly, ‘Considering that we are now friends, may I ask what Mr Craventon is intending to do about his marriage?’

  ‘He too is seeking a divorce. They’ve been separated for so long it should be quite easy in his case.’

  ‘Yes; yes, I should say so; and very easy in yours too, because Humphrey hasn’t got a leg to stand on . . . Oh. Oh, that is nice.’ Mrs Drayton now turned to Peter, who was pushing a trolley which held a silver tray on which there was a silver tea service with two delicately patterned china teacups, both resting on lace mats in their saucers; and, on the shelf below, there were two plates, one holding very thinly cut bread and butter, the other an assortment of small cakes.

  It was the teacups about which Mrs Drayton remarked, saying, ‘It’s the height of bad manners, I know, to remark on your hostess’ house and contents, but I must say that it is a lovely sight, such a pretty sight, to see cups resting on lace mats. I haven’t seen that since I left home. My mother always had afternoon tea at half-past three, when friends would be invited on certain days.’ Smiling, she turned back to Hannah, saying, ‘And they all wore hats, as I do still. The teas were gossip sessions and we children were never allowed in on them, and I may tell you that we hadn’t lace mats under our cups up in the nursery! We hadn’t even cups; we had mugs.’

  Peter was smiling as he said, ‘Rightly so, madam. Rightly so.’

  ‘What d’you mean, rightly so? That we should have mugs?’

  ‘Yes, exactly that: children should have unbreakable mugs, for they play awful havoc with cups and saucers.’

  As Peter walked away, Mrs Drayton, leaning forward towards Hannah, said softly, ‘A very nice person, I should imagine.’

  ‘Yes, he is indeed, Mrs Drayton, a very nice man. David is very lucky to have him as a friend; in fact, he’s been more like a father to him for years.’

  ‘Yes, yes; I should imagine.’ Mrs Drayton was now nodding her head.

  She had drunk two cups of tea, eaten a slice of bread and butter and one small cake. She was now wiping her mouth with a dainty tea napkin. Her whole manner seemed to have changed, and when she made no effort to speak for some time, Hannah leant forward and asked her, ‘Are you all right, Mrs Drayton?’

  ‘Yes; yes, my dear. I’m all right. Except for those times when I feel emotionally disturbed, which generally occur at night-time, I could say I am all right. It’s in the night when on
e misses one’s partner, and strange things happen to one’s mind. You know, he was only buried on Tuesday and yet I seem to have been feeling his loss for years. I can’t understand it. Just over a week ago he was alive and we were talking. He was ill, yes, but he was alive; and now it’s as if he’d gone from me aeons ago. At nights I . . . I find that I have difficulty in conjuring up his face. I have to take up his photograph and look at it. He told me, before he went, that we would never be parted, that when I went he’d be waiting for me and we’d start life again together; where, he didn’t know, but he seemed to be sure of that. I wish I could be sure of it. My friends, both business and personal, always tell me how wonderful I am in bearing up as I have done, but, Hannah, they know nothing about it, for I ask you, who knows what goes on in another’s mind? We’re all living behind a façade, and in my case people imagine that the façade is steel-plated. I am a businesswoman, I’m known as a businesswoman, so businesswomen don’t think as other women do. They don’t feel as other women do or else they’d be howling their eyes out all day. If they only knew, Hannah, that’s what I want to do, howl my eyes out; but I’m a businesswoman, so the charade must be kept going.’

  Hannah found herself quite unable to say a word. All she could do was hold the hand extended to her and smooth the long, blue-veined fingers, and as she did so Mrs Drayton went on, ‘I know that tonight in bed I will ask myself why on earth I poured my heart out to you, showing you my true self, and I won’t be able to give myself an answer. I only know that your fidelity to that rip of a man has shown me the side of a human’s character that I would have said one only came upon in novels. You know what my husband said about you? He said there was a simplicity in you that overstepped that characteristic known as naïvety and touched on a truthfulness that could only be derived from wisdom, subconscious or otherwise.’