Pure as the Lily

by Catherine Cookson

  “Say it again ... again.”

  Light dawned on the boy and his chin jerked to the side as if he had just woken up out of sleep and he said, in a muted tone, ‘may I have the ledger for Mr. “ His voice trailed away.

  “Yes, you may, Beechwood. Remember you are not asking yourself the question, Can I get the ledger? Of course you can get the ledger; you are capable of getting it, aren’t you? But you are asking my permission to get the ledger: May I have the ledger. You follow me, Beechwood?”

  Tes, sir. “

  “Then take the ledger.” He pointed to the other side of the desk. The boy took the ledger and as he went out, the class made a quiet tittering, and Jimmy felt slightly ashamed of himself. This was the kind of thing for which he blamed Bennett, sarcasm. There was an excuse when you were putting it over in a lesson. Now for Crockford.

  The door opened again. It was the head boy.

  “Sir, the Head would like to see you if you have a minute.”

  Very well, Ramsay. Burrows, you take over, and if any of these. gentlemen play up, make a note of it. That goes for you, Milligan, especially. “

  “Yes, sir.” Milligan grinned from the back seat, then added cheekily, “But you needn’t worry, sir, I haven’t got me gas mask case.”

  Jimmy stopped near the door and stared at Milligan, then went out. And he was tempted for a moment to look through the small glass panel in the door to see what Milligan might be up to. It would be easier to intimidate a regimental sergeant major than Milligan. Why did Milligan always carry that empty gas-mask case? It couldn’t be his original one, that must have been kicked to bits very early on. He smiled wryly to himself, then wondered what the Head wanted with him now.

  When a few minutes later, the Head handed him his monthly cheque he thought, I must be ip a bad way he had forgotten it was pay day.

  He had reached his class room again; his hand was going to the door knob when, looking through the panel, he saw a figure standing behind his desk and facing the blackboard. It was Crockford. He was writing something on the board and Burrows was apparently remonstrating with him because he kept flinging his arm towards the door.

  When Crockford’s hand stopped moving on the board and he stroked the chalk with a great flourish across the bottom of it, Jimmy recognized the impersonation of himself. Then Crockford was standing there where he usually stood; rising on his toes now, swaying gently, bending his long length for ward, placing his hands on his hips, then pushing one hand after the other through his hair. This was himself to a T. He felt a flame of anger sweep over him.

  He thrust the door open, and his entry was made in total silence. The boys sat stiffly, wide-eyed, some with mouths agape, waiting. Burrows began to say something.

  Jimmy lifted his hand, palm upwards, to quieten Burrows, then walked to the front of his desk and looked at Crockford, who was standing now to the side of the board and for once appearing unsure of himself, even looking a little scared. Then he turned his eyes to the board, and what he read was:

  “Wet Lanky Walton’s whistle with whisky and he’ll waffle about Warwick, Westmorland, Wellington, or Watt; not forgetting poetry poetry, prosody, pentameter—the sot. Why doesn’t the Salvation Army call him up to empty their dustbins?”

  He couldn’t read the last words for the flame of his anger.

  What happened next was done so quickly that the boys didn’t stir from their seats for some seconds. With a movement that was a spring, he gripped Crockford by the neck and, swinging him round as if he were a small child, dragged him sideways to the board, and there, pushing his face against it he rubbed it unmercifully over the chalked words.

  The harder Crockford struggled and fought to free himself the harder Jimmy pushed his face back and forward. He was quite unaware now of the pandemonium behind him, of Felton and Burrows, and Cook and Riley and Fawcett and Youlden, all impeding each other as they pulled on his arms, shouting, “Sir! sir! Leave go, sir! Leave go, man!” of boys running from the room and masters running in. He was only slightly aware of them trying to get his clutching hands from Crockford’s collar and of the superior tone of Mr. Bennett, crying, “Walton!

  Walton! Have you gone mad? Take hold of yourself, man. Leave go! Do you hear me? Leave go! “ Of the senior maths master, saying, “ Come on.

  Jimmy. Come on, Jimmy,” in a coaxing voice.

  But it was not because of either of them that he let go of Crockford, it was because the rage suddenly seeped from him as if someone had opened a trap door in the soles of his feet. He felt the strength running down from his arms and

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  his ribs and his legs, leaving him limp and shaken. He didn’t remember how he got from the classroom to the Common Room, but he did remember as he left the classroom hearing someone saying, “His nose is bleeding. It’s only his nose.” And he remembered putting his hand up to his face; but it wasn’t his nose that was bleeding, it would be Crockford’s.

  When the Headmaster came in he stood silent for a moment looking down at him, and then he said, stiffly, very stiffly, ‘you had better go home, Mr. Walton, and see your doctor. “

  They had brought his coat and hat, and when he got into them the Head said, ‘you will see Mr. Walton home, Mr. Quilter? “ and the master said, “ Of course, sir. “

  It was then that Jimmy put his hand out towards them in a delaying movement. He didn’t speak but he made a small movement with his head, and then he walked past his col leagues and the Headmaster and went across the hall and out into the school yard, out into the sunshine, out of the school gates, and out of this kind of life for ever.

  He was finished, finally finished; at least this part of him was finished. But there was another about to begin. He knew what he was going to do. It was as if he had been rehearsing for weeks, and had just given the first performance. It was half past four when he got into the house. He looked about him;

  he was no longer dazed but he was still trembling. He went to a cupboard under the stairs and pulled out a couple of cases, then packed them with his belongings. He gathered up all his books and put them in cardboard boxes. These he stood in the hallway, in the shadow of the stairs, and his full cases he put back in the cupboard. It was now five o’clock.

  H? looked in the mirror. His face was pale and grim. He was twenty-five years old, he was a man, and he was going to act like a man; for the first time in his life he was going to act like a man. He was Jimmy Walton, the man; gone was Jimmy Walton, the lad, the young fellow who had to be thankful to his mother for putting him on his

  feet; gone was Jimmy Walton, the young husband, who had allowed himself to be browbeaten by a slip of a tartar, five foot of pure bitchery.

  He straightened his tie, smoothed his hair back, and as he did so he was reminded of Crockford. He wasn’t sorry for what he had done to Crockford, he’d had it coming to him. He should have done it months ago. But no; he had done it at the right moment.

  He went out and across the little hall and knocked on the door opposite. When Lally opened it, he stared at her before saying, “Hello. May I come in?”

  She did not answer as she stared back at him, but she opened the door wider, and he passed her and went into the room, then turned and looked at her.

  “I... I haven’t seen you this week, have you been bad’ Tes. I got a cold an’ had to stay in bed.”

  oh. “

  “Come on in and sit down.”

  He looked about him. He had never been in this room before, it was ordinary, cheap-looking. He turned to her and took her hand and led her towards the fireplace where a low fire was smouldering. Then, pressing her down into a chair, he drew up another to her side, and again taking her hand he looked into her face and said, simply, “I love you, Lally.”

  Her blue eyes softened with bewilderment as they widened and she shook her head and pulled in her chin; then she said, “Eeh! no. Jimmy. Eeh!

  no. Well, what I mean is. “

  “Listen. I love you, I need you
. God how I need you. I’ve wanted to put me arms round you like this.” He now supped from the chair on to his knees and drew her to him, and when he felt the nearness of her, of her soft warm flesh, he became still inside. How long had he wanted to do this, for how many months, for how many years, for how many eternities? Since he was born he had longed to do this, lie against Lally. There was a need in him, there had always been a need in him, and since the first time he had seen her he had

  known that she could fill that need. The need was well-deep, it went right down, past Betty, past his mother, past those tortuous days at the Secondary School, past the torment of his long arms dangling from his cuffs and the bottoms of his trousers straining away from the tops of his boots; past this life and into another only dimly comprehended.

  She was saying, “But Jimmy, your wife, I don’t want to cause trouble.”

  He brought his face up from her neck and looked into her eyes.

  “What do you think about me, Lally?”

  “Aw.” She closed her eyes for a moment and her face dropped into a great expanse of warm tenderness.

  “Oh! you should know that. I think you’re wonderful. I’ve always thought you were wonderful, clever, so so.”

  “I don’t mean that way, Lally. What do you think about me as... as a man, not the schpolteacher?”

  She bit on her lip and her head drooped for a moment; then she lifted it as she said quietly, “I... I love you. Jimmy, I’ve ... I’ve always loved you, ever since I first saw you in the passage. Albert knew, he sort of guessed, that’s why he....”

  He drew in a long, deep breath as he pulled her sharply to him.

  “That’s all I want to know, that’s all I’ll ever want to know.”

  When he kissed her he felt like a god. And was he not kissing a goddess, for she was built like a goddess, like those of old. Oh wonder of wonders! Her mouth was soft and warm and enveloping. He was swimming into her flesh. How in the name of God had he done without her all this time? But never no more, he’d never let her go now. From now on there wouldn’t be a day or a night when they would be separated.

  He drew his lips from hers and, looking into her great blue eyes, said, ‘now this . this is what I want you to do. I want you to pack a case, just with what’s necessary for the time being, and I want you to go along to our Mary’s, you know, the shop, and wait for me there. “

  “But... but Jimmy, w ... won’t she ...?”

  “No buts.” He put his fingers on her lips.

  “But, lad, just a minute.” She pulled his hand down and held it tightly.

  “Do you really know what you’re doin’? “ Cos you know what they’ll say, they’ll say you’re up the pole some of them around here think I’m soft in the head, and I haven’t done much to prove them wrong. As I told you, Jimmy, I’m daft with money. And then there’s your sister. Won’t she go off the deep end? “

  “No; Mary won’t go off the deep end.” He wasn’t sure of this but he said it emphatically.

  “But the other teachers at the school, Jimmy, they’ll look down on you ‘cos of me.”

  “I’m finished with school.”

  “You’ve left!”

  ^es, you could say I’ve left. This is going to be a new start. We’ll find a house somewhere, we’ll set up and I’ll get a job. There’s plenty going, don’t you worry about that. Now do what I tell you. “ He got to his feet and pulled her up with him.

  “Pack up straightaway and get down to Mary’s and wait there; when we find a place you can send for your stuff.” He was going to add Svhat you want of it,” but realized they might be glad of it because you couldn’t buy new furniture for love nor money, and little of second-hand stuff either.

  While they stood near the door close again, she touched his face and said, “I can’t believe it, Jimmy. I was sittin’ here feeling lost, lonely—I haven’t seen a soul to speak to in the last three days, everybody’s out at work and about their own business... you know’ she nodded ‘and I didn’t feel up to going out and....”

  ‘you feel up to it now? “

  “Oh aye, yes.” She leant her head against his neck and said simply, “I’d walk on hot coals to get to you. Jimmy.”

  “Oh! Lally. Lally.”

  He had to force himself to let her go. Then he admonished her once again: “Now look slippy and get out as quick as possible for there’s likely to be a few high jinks later on. And i97

  wait, I’ll bring these boxes in. “ He opened the door and pointed to the cardboard boxes.

  “They’re my books.”

  A minute or so later she caught hold of his arm and said, “But what’ll I say to your sister?”

  “Just say Jimmy sent you and may you stay there until I come. That’s all, say nothing more. Mary won’t ask any questions, she’ll twig and understand.”

  “Eeh! I can’t believe it.” She shook her head.

  “It’s fantastic, you wantin’ me ... oh! Jimmy.”

  He looked at her lovingly, took her in his arms again; then hurried across the hall and into his own house. Betty came in at six o’clock. The first thing that caught her eye was the bare tea table. She went into the bedroom where Jimmy was tearing up papers from a box he had placed on the bed, and she said, “Oh!

  you’re in. Why isn’t the tea set? What you doing with that old box on the clean cover? “

  His reply was brief.

  “I’m not staying for tea.”

  You’re not on the night. “

  “No, I’m not on tonight.”

  “One of those moods is it?” She flung off her outer clothes and went into the kitchen. He heard the banging of the kettle on the stove and the rattle of crockery.

  He gathered up the torn papers and returned them to the box, the others he tied together with some tape and put them in the pocket of his overcoat that was lying across a chair;

  then he went into the room where Betty was setting the table in no quiet manner, and he said, “You needn’t set it for me, but you can set it for two, I want you to go and fetch me ma.”

  You what? “

  You heard what I said, I want you to go and fetch me ma. “

  “Now?* Yes, now.”

  “What’s up with you? she’ll be round about sevenish.”

  “I’m not waiting until seven. Stop doing that’—his voice was rising —’and go and get me ma.”

  “You gone mad altogether?” She shook her head.

  “You’ve been on the bottle.” She peered at him in silence now and seeing that he hadn’t been on the bottle she asked, “What do you want Main for all of a sudden?”

  You’ll know when you bring her; I’m not going to waste breath on both of you. “

  “What?”

  “Do I have to repeat everything? I said I am not going to waste my breath on both of you. Go and bring me ma now if you want to hear what I’ve got to say.”

  He swung round, went into the bedroom, brought back her hat and coat and flung them into her arms, saying, “Go on!”

  When he slowly advanced towards her she backed from him, staring at him, her mouth agape, and she pulled on her coat as she opened the door. Then she peered at him again and, repeating the Headmaster’s words, said, You had better see a doctor, that’s what you’d better do, an’ soon. “ Then she was gone.... They returned quicker than he had expected. He had given them half an hour but they were back in twenty minutes. When they came into the room they looked at him standing near the table dressed in his good suit, an overcoat hanging over the back of the chair and, by the side of the chair, two cases. The sight of him standing thus bereft them both of speech for a moment, but it was Alice, as usual, who got her word in first.

  “What’s this?” she demanded.

  “What are you up to now?

  And this, this! “ She pointed from one case to the other.

  “You’ve been plaguing to come and live here for the last couple of years haven’t you, Ma?”

  Alice didn’t
answer this, but she pulled in her chin and screwed up her eyes and waited. And Jimmy went on, “Well, now I’m giving you the chance. You can have it all to yourselves, the both of you’—he nodded from one to the other—” because I’m leaving. “

  The two women exchanged glances, then they looked at

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  him again and their reactions took different forms. Betty realized that this could really be the end and that she’d have to do something quickly, use the same tactics that had got him in the first place. She dropped her head on to her chest and began to whimper: ‘you can’t, you can’t mean it, Jimmy? We’ve had our differences, but you can’t mean. “

  Alice’s voice cut her off, yelling, “Leave! is it? You’ll leave here with that lot’—she kicked out towards the case ‘over my dead body.”

  “Well, I just might do that, Ma, I just might, because I’m going to tell you now’—he moved one step towards her, which action impressed her more that his statement ‘it’s been as much as I could do to keep me hands off you for many a long day, even as far back as the night you locked me in the bedroom and offered me da the shakey-down in the front room. I had the greatest desire to claw your face that night. So your words might just come true. I wouldn’t put them to the test if I were you, because you know something? I’m at the end of me tether, and driven too far. God knows what I would do. I’ve been in court twice, what’s one more time. And me da wouldn’t be in it once I started.

  Quiet men are like that, tigers under the skin, you know. Or don’t you? No, you’d never learn. You drove me da to bash Ben almost to death when with a few sensible words you could have altered the whole scene. You could have said: “These things happen. Ben’s still a young man, and he’s a marvelous catch for our Mary.” But no, you didn’t, because as I understand it you had your eye in that quarter yourself.

  And another thing, I don’t have to thank you for what you did for me;