Shoddy Prince

by Sheelagh Kelly

  ‘You keep out of it! I know she’s your wife but this is between her and me, about our daughter!’

  ‘Wife?’ Bright felt the madness rushing through the arteries of her brain, her brow furrowed with confusion. ‘I’m nobody’s wife.’

  Both she and Nat flung an enquiring look at the uniformed doctor, who held up his hands in a weary gesture of pacification and guilt. ‘Just wishful thinking on my part. I’m sorry, I should have told you, Bright turned me down.’

  On impulse Nat lashed out and felled the doctor.

  Bright screamed and ran to tend Noel, who raised the top half of his body to lean against one of the fireside chairs, dabbing a handkerchief to his bloody lip. ‘Nat, you’d better go!’ Her command emerged on a sob.

  ‘No!’ A black-clad arm speared more accusation at her. ‘First, I want to know why you made her hate me!’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ she screamed up at him.

  ‘She doesn’t, Nat!’ Noel lengthened the odds against another blow by remaining on the carpet, though he could not have risen had he wanted to. ‘Bright knows none of it.’

  Bright turned to cry at the doctor, demanding, ‘Do you? If so then would you tell me?’

  Nat had whipped himself up in preparation of the attack and was not to be deterred. ‘You knew she’d come to ruin me all along, didn’t you?’ he growled at Noel.

  The answer was desperate. ‘No, no! I swear I didn’t.’

  ‘I wish someone would tell me!’ yelled Bright, and jumped to her feet, standing toe to toe with Nat.

  ‘Don’t give me any o’ that rubbish!’ Nat’s dark hair fell over his brow, the whites of his eyes suffused with red. ‘You must’ve known she was working for me.’

  Her breast rose and fell like overworked bellows. ‘Working for…? I never!’

  The contortion of his lips showed that he thought she was lying. ‘You’re asking me to believe that she came to work for me every day for three years and you had no idea where she was going?’

  ‘I didn’t!’ Her brown eyes were wide and filled with tears. Oh, this was not the way their reunion was meant to be.

  ‘Nat!’ With the aid of furniture Noel managed to scramble up and grabbed his friend by the arms, though his whole demeanour lacked strength. ‘Listen, Bright knows nothing about it and neither did I until I came to see you in prison. Oriel planned it of her own accord.’

  ‘Planned what?’ raged Bright. ‘I demand to be told.’

  ‘She pretended not to know who I was!’ Nat shouted at her. ‘Came to work for me in the hope that she could make some mischief, to get her own back on me for deserting the pair of you!’ He had finally admitted it after all these years: he had deserted her. ‘She even said…’ He forced his voice not to crack. ‘She even said she’d see me in prison, and by God if she didn’t get her wish!’

  ‘But I didn’t send her!’ Bright was pleading now.

  His intended speech gone awry, Nat did not know what to believe. On one side there was Noel claiming it had all been a misunderstanding, when he himself had said that he and Bright were married, Nat knew he had. And on the other side was Bright, claiming total ignorance of everything and looking as wide-eyed and innocent as she had two decades ago when he had taken her purity. In complete turmoil, he reeled towards the exit. ‘Oh, save your lies for each other! You’re both a couple of frauds. I just wanted you to know what I thought about you – and you can tell that little bitch that I haven’t finished with her yet!’

  ‘Nat, don’t run away!’ Bright hurried after him down the hall, but he charged outside and headed back towards town.

  ‘Leave him,’ advised Noel, coming to slouch beside her on the doorstep, a thread of blood trickling down his chin. ‘It’s no good while he’s in this mood.’

  ‘I’m afraid for Oriel.’ Bright spoke through her fingers, her wide eyes peering over them. ‘What if he bumps into her in town?’ For that was where Oriel must surely be; she obviously wasn’t out working for her Mr Price.

  ‘In all that mafficking?’ Noel forced a comforting laugh. ‘Not a chance. Come in, come and sit down, this must’ve been a terrible shock.’ He closed the door on the outside world and shepherded a trembling Bright into the kitchen where he put the kettle on. ‘I’m really sorry.’

  She sat rigid in the chair. ‘For what? For pretending that we were married, or not informing me that I have a monster for a daughter?’

  Noel felt drained. It wasn’t just the current unpleasantness; the malaise that had been with him all day had grown progressively worse, his chest felt tight and his head throbbed. With a sigh, he abandoned his efforts with the teapot and slumped in the chair at the other side of the fireplace. ‘I didn’t tell him we were married, I told him that I’d asked you to marry me. He just assumed that you’d accepted.’

  ‘And you allowed him to.’ This was the first time Bright had shown anger towards him; it may have been controlled but that did not lessen its impact.

  ‘Yes… as I said to Nat a moment ago, it was wishful thinking I suppose, and pride.’ And other reasons that he could not say. He picked a strand of white cotton from his khaki trousers and dropped it on the floor.

  ‘Wishful thinking that I’d marry you?’ she demanded. ‘And why exactly do you want to marry me, Noel? It certainly isn’t because you’re in love with me. I can’t recall you ever mentioning that emotion. Fondness, yes. Love, no. And for you to even say you’re fond of me is a lie. Ye don’t play a rotten trick like that on someone you’re fond of.’

  ‘Oh if life were only that clear!’ Noel’s head was spinning and he gripped his temples in an attempt to ease the torment. How could he explain the complexity of his actions when he did not fully understand them himself? How could he make excuses when he was his own worst accuser? How could he argue that he did love Bright in his own way, but that he loved Nat too? He imagined the look of horror and incomprehension that this would engender if he were able to admit just what kind of love he felt for Nat – it had taken Noel years even to admit it to himself. There was no answer he could possibly give that would not inflict more hurt upon her.

  ‘You also mentioned pride,’ inserted Bright when Noel appeared to have difficulty providing an excuse. ‘Do I take it to mean that you felt so humiliated when a lowly housemaid turned down your proposal you felt you had to save face by lying to your friend?’

  ‘No! I was bitterly disappointed it’s true, but I never ever regarded my proposal as an act of charity. My feelings for you are quite genuine, Bright.’ And in a way they were. Yes, he had been using her, but not in a malicious way, and the marriage would have been beneficial to both of them.

  ‘Then I can only think it was done out of sheer jealousy,’ responded Bright. ‘You’ve always known how I felt about Nat and you were jealous that I couldn’t show you the same love.’

  Noel opened his mouth to deny this, but closed it again. Kinder for her to believe this than the truth: the truth being that he had always envied the love that Bright and Nat had for each other, that he too yearned for Nat almost to the point of madness, whilst being enough of a realist to know that such a fantasy was doomed. For the sake of convention, the threat of ridicule, and the greater fear of rejection he could never and would never admit to his passion, but this did not deprive him of intense jealousy. So utterly consumed was he by this emotion that he had long ago decided that if he could not have Nat then neither would Bright. It had not concerned him when Nat had announced he was to be married, the doctor had known it had only been done from expediency, but this link between Bright and the man who had fathered her child was indestructible. And to complicate matters further Noel had to care for Bright too! Despite all the contradiction and the inextricable tangle of emotions there was no reason why this lovely and lovable woman could not find happiness and contentment in a marriage of convenience. Noel could have been a good husband in every other way…

  But it was too late now. He finally confessed to
her accusation of jealousy in a shamed tone. ‘You’re probably right.’

  Bright fixed him with her eyes for a second, then turned her face away in disgust. Noel was about to admit that he had lied about Nat being married too, that their mutual friend regarded anyone else as second best to this woman. But Bright changed the subject in terse manner. ‘So! Now that we’ve got that out of the way are ye going to tell me about Oriel before she comes in? What were her reasons for all this?’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on—’

  ‘Just tell me! Then I’ll be the one to decide how hard I’m going to be on her.’

  Noel sighed again. On the hob the kettle boiled merrily away but neither of them went to remove it. In the following moments the doctor told Bright what he knew about Oriel’s reasons for keeping her secret, ending with another attempt at mediation. ‘She didn’t mean to deceive you, Bright, she was only trying to protect your feelings, as I was.’

  ‘I wish everyone would stop trying to protect my feelings!’ Bright’s fists came down on the arms of the chair. ‘I’m a grown woman, I don’t need my daughter to look after me – and I don’t need you!’

  Noel’s brown eyes lost their glimmer of entreaty and became quite dead. ‘Would you like me to leave?’

  ‘Yes! I’ve things to say to my daughter and I don’t want an audience.’

  ‘Goodbye, then.’ Noel wanted to touch her, but thought better of it, and collecting his hat from the table he left.

  Bright let him go, seething with outrage at being patronized like this. Look after me indeed! Why had she always put Oriel’s feelings before her own? Why hadn’t she done as instinct had urged her to do and gone to see Nat years ago? The more she sat here the angrier she became about how life could have been so different, and when Oriel finally came home later that afternoon, waving a copy of the Evening Press, Bright struck it from her hand. ‘Where have you been all day?’

  Dumbfounded, Oriel looked at the paper that now lay unrolled on the carpet, then back at her mother. ‘I was at work this morning, and then I went—’

  ‘Working for Mr Price?’

  Oriel hesitated – had her mother found the locket? ‘Yes.’

  ‘Liar!’ Bright’s placid temperament was overcome by fury. ‘You’ve been working for your father for three years! You’ve lied, you’ve cheated and—’

  ‘I can explain!’ Oriel’s hands came out to beseech her mother. ‘It wasn’t that I wanted to be with him, but that I wanted to ruin him like he ruined you.’

  ‘I know!’ Bright slapped down the entreating hands. ‘Noel told me everything.’

  How could he? Oriel raged at the doctor, tucking her hands under her armpits in an attitude of defence. ‘But I did it for you!’

  ‘Don’t say it was for me, it was for you! You, who never had one hardship in your life, never had to go short. Apart from that one disappointment over the nursing business you had everything easy. I wish I’d had life so easy! I’ll bet your father does too!’

  Oriel was crying. How could her mother have forgotten that she had shared Miss Bytheway’s fortune with her? Nevertheless she blurted, ‘I’m sorry!’

  ‘How could you be so vindictive?’

  ‘And how could you be such a doormat!’ sobbed Oriel. ‘Letting everyone treat you with contempt!’

  ‘And do you include yourself in everyone? Because as far as I’m concerned you’ve been the most contemptuous of the lot! How could you go out of this house every morning, lie and cheat…’

  ‘I was doing it to protect you!’

  ‘Ye were doing it to protect yourself! Ye knew if I’d been aware of your plans I would’ve stopped ye.’

  Oriel turned her anger on the doctor. ‘Noel should never have opened his mouth!’

  ‘It wasn’t Noel who did this to your father! Your own father… how could ye do it to him, Oriel?’

  ‘How could he do it to me?’ came the hot reply. ‘How could he abandon me?’

  ‘Well, ye’ll have the chance to ask him ’cause he’s coming back.’ Oriel’s teary eyes looked suddenly afraid. ‘He’s been here? But I…’

  ‘I know! Twas a surprise to me too – so ye see it wasn’t Noel who gave the game away. Aye, it was a big surprise, and not a very pleasant one either. He came here with all manner of accusations, blaming me for the things you’ve done.’

  ‘He had no right to do that! I’ve looked after that business on my own for a year just so he wouldn’t lose everything.’

  ‘Yes, Noel told me that after your father had stormed off thinking we were all in it together.’ Exhausted, Bright fell into a chair and buried her face in her hands, rubbing them over her cheeks in desperation. ‘God knows what he’s going to do now.’

  Oriel’s heart was still pounding. She moved slowly to her mother’s chair and in hesitant manner put a hand to Bright’s shoulder. ‘I’m really sorry. I’ll go and explain to him. I never intended you to be hurt like this.’ She bobbed to her knees and laid her head in Bright’s lap, but when there was no comforting hand she lifted her face again. ‘I’m not just sorry I’ve hurt you, but him too.’

  Bright’s mind hopped from one vague memory to another. ‘I suppose you were there on the day he was arrested?’

  ‘Yes.’ Oriel’s blue eyes misted over. ‘It was awful. The poor dog hadn’t done any harm, it was these two boys… oh, you should have seen… I felt so sorry for him.’ She began to cry and bent her head to her mother’s lap again.

  Bright felt the warmth of her daughter’s sobbing breath through her skirts. Tears rolled down her own cheeks.

  Oriel felt the consoling hand upon her head and broke into racking sobs. ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’

  * * *

  ‘I’m sorry!’ laughed the woman to Nat after dancing back onto his toe as the crowd carried her against her wishes.

  He gave unsmiling pardon and tried to manoeuvre a passage through the shouting, singing, yelling mob. It was dark now, though not late. Since the afternoon’s encounter with Bright he had been drowning his confusion in self-pity and beer in a public house that was as crowded as the streets. He was now quite drunk and not so tolerant of the crowd as he had been this morning, shoving and pushing its members out of his way, to which they showed no objection. Everyone was everyone’s friend tonight, it seemed. Everyone except Nat’s. He staggered drunkenly on. Faces loomed out of the pack, leering at him, bodies draped in Union Jacks, grabbing, kissing, poking, prodding.

  ‘Sorry!’ Another apology, from another woman. She pressed her buxom chest against his, eyes gleaming with intoxication. Reading the signs, Nat grabbed hold of her hand, moved with her through the crush and escaped into a narrow lane that had no shadows. There were other couples here; he could hear their grunts and moans. The woman hoisted her skirt around her waist, then he unbuttoned his trousers and thrust himself up into her warm, moist flesh, hands digging into her buttocks, ramming her at the wall, again, again, again, again – fuck you, fuck you, bastards all! You’ve got your way. I’m going!

  The woman gave a little shriek. With a last trembling, vicious lunge he exploded into her, then pushed her from him and hurried away, buttoning his pants as he went, back into the crowd, shoving, pushing, elbowing his way home.

  Someone barged into him, thumped him in the chest; he did not stop to see whom, for the man was swallowed up into the throng. Nat weaved his way along High Ousegate, in and out, shoving… he did not realize he had been stabbed until he stepped into the light of a lamp-post and a woman screamed and pointed at the handle that protruded from his left breast. He felt pain now and groped at the iron post for support.

  Satisfied at having achieved his belated revenge, Denzil melted into the crowd.

  The woman entreated someone to help him but her cries were lost amongst the drunken singing and she was carried off on a wave of patriotism. No one else noticed his plight. Nat’s eyes were wide in shock. Collecting his thoughts, he turned and tried to fight his way back along High Ousegate, insti
nct directing him towards Noel’s surgery. People got in his way. Get out! Get out! He lashed at the air, one hand clutching his chest. Assuming he was merely drunk, no one took pity. Lungs fighting for breath, he continued to stagger through the milling throng, until finally he collapsed into the doorway of Noel’s surgery, whereupon he set up a constant kicking with his boot.

  Upstairs, Noel groaned. ‘Oh, fack off will you?’ The drunks had been a constant irritation all evening. Up until now he had ignored them, only because he was too tired to go and remonstrate. Never had he felt so tired, yet unable to sleep. Not even the half bottle of whisky had had any effect. Exhaustion seeped into his very bones, his head throbbed, his chest was as tight as a drum; he felt on the verge of nervous collapse.

  The thudding at his door went on and on, and finally exhaustion was overcome by rage: how dare these bastards behave like this? They hadn’t been at the Front, they didn’t know what it was like, to try and put soldiers back together when there weren’t enough pieces to go round, how dare they disturb the peace of those who had? Pushing himself from the chair, he kicked over the empty bottle and half charged, half stumbled down the stairs, turned the key and hauled on the door-knob. ‘Look, you…!’

  Nat collapsed at his feet. ‘Help me! I need a doctor.’

  Noel cackled and fell against the jamb. ‘He needs a doctor and he comes to me!’

  A desperate hand grabbed at his trouser leg. ‘I’ve been stabbed.’

  ‘Oh… shit.’ Fighting off his debilitating exhaustion, Noel fell to his knees beside his friend.

  Nat was holding the knife handle, eyes terrified. ‘Pull it out!’

  ‘No! Leave it there.’ Noel tried to calm him.

  ‘You bastard!’

  ‘If I pull it out I might do more damage! Oh, Christ, how do we get you to hospital through all this?’ After a moment’s indecision, Noel launched his aching body at the stairs.

  ‘Don’t leave me!’ Nat’s hand came up to plead.

  ‘I’m just going to telephone for an ambulance. Lie still, I won’t be long!’