The Angel in the Corner

by Monica Dickens

  ‘All alone?’ she asked, feigning surprise. ‘Where’s the better half?’

  ‘Gone to a party,’ Joe said. ‘I wasn’t invited.’

  ‘Isn’t that a shame? She shouldn’t have gone without you. I’m sure I would never go anywhere they didn’t think Paul was good enough to come with me. Did I disturb you, Jo-Jo? I just felt like popping down for a visit, but since Virgie –’

  ‘Come in, anyway,’ Joe said. ‘Have a drink.’

  ‘You know I don’t.’

  ‘I know you do when no one’s looking.’ He poured a drink for her, and tipped the last of the bottle into his own glass.

  Mollie glanced round at the chairs and then sat down on the bed. ‘You don’t mind?’ She put her head on one side and crossed her bony legs. ‘In my opinion, this is the only comfortable piece of furniture in the room. I’ve always meant to get new chairs, but is it worth it, with tenants the way they are? Excuse me, Jo-Jo. I didn’t mean you.’ Joe did not like the way she smiled at him.

  ‘Happy days.’ Mollie raised her glass, and swallowed half of the whisky and water in a surprisingly short time for a woman who did not drink. ‘It’s a long time since we had one of our little chats, isn’t it?’

  Joe grunted. Stretched out in the chair with his chin on his chest, he looked at her, then lowered his lids and looked away. The poor old girl had floured her face with that white powder, and smeared on some lipstick. Some of it had come off on her teeth.

  Mollie talked nervously, leaning forward and finishing her drink in quick sips, as if she were perched on the edge of a bird bath. She put down her glass and patted the bed. ‘Come and sit here, Jo-Jo. You’ll be more comfortable.’

  ‘I’m O.K.’

  Mollie got up and came to sit on the arm of his chair, pulling her tight skirt down over her knees. Or was she trying to pull it farther up?

  ‘How about a little kiss for old times’ sake?’ she murmured.

  Joe did not move. Although she revolted him, he could not help feeling sorry for her. The poor old thing was starved for it. And after all, in the old days, she had let him off an occasional week’s rent for the sake of a kiss and a mild fumble. He moistened his lips. They felt dry and swollen. If he could only have another drink, he would feel much better.

  ‘Well, how about it?’ Mollie said. ‘You needn’t be shy with me, you know. You never used to be.’

  ‘Sorry, Moll,’ he said thickly. ‘It’s different now. I’m married.’

  ‘Oh, pooh,’ she said, resting her claw-like hand on the top of his hair. ‘In my opinion, it’s the feeblest apology for a marriage I ever saw. How long do you think that girl is going to stick to you? I’ve seen it happen like this dozens of times. First, it’s wanting to go off and have a job of her own. Then it’s going to parties on her own – like tonight. Don’t you know she thinks she’s much too good for you?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Joe said angrily. ‘That isn’t true. Get away from me.’ He pushed away her hand as it slipped from his hair to his cheek, and got up from the chair swaying a little on the hearthrug, and rubbing his hands roughly over his face, as if he were trying to rub away the words that Mollie had spoken, and the mocking sound of them in his head. She thinks she’s much too good for you.

  The slam of a taxi, door cut sharply across his clouded thoughts. ‘Clear out, Mollie,’ Joe said. ‘That must be her coming back.’

  ‘Why should I? Why shouldn’t I come down for a visit in my own house?’

  Joe heard only the shrill complaint of her voice, without hearing what she said. He was listening to the voices on the pavement. Virginia’s voice, and a man’s.

  Virginia came in alone, and stopped just inside the door when she saw Mollie. ‘Oh – hullo,’ she said vaguely. ‘Been keeping Joe company?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Mollie said, folding her hands smugly. ‘We had a nice little chat. You’re back very early from your party. I’m sure Joe didn’t expect you back yet.’

  ‘I didn’t feel well,’ Virginia said shortly. ‘I’m sorry, Mollie, but I’ll have to ask you to go. I want to go straight to bed.’

  ‘Oh, certainly,’ Mollie said, in her grandest voice. ‘I know when I’m not wanted. Good night then, Jo-Jo. Thanks for the visit.’

  Joe felt her hand brush his arm as she passed him, but he did not see her go. He was watching Virginia. She looked pale, and she moved more slowly than usual. He watched her as she went to put away her evening bag, bending to open the drawer. Her smooth young back grew out of the white gown’s embrace like a flower from its calyx.

  ‘Come here,’ he said.

  She turned to look at him. ‘You’re drunk,’ she said, not critically, but as a statement of fact.

  ‘Not too drunk to be fooled. I mean, not to be fooled. I mean, what do you think I think? I mean, how do you – what am I –’ His speech could not cope with the words that were tumbling in his head.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Virginia frowned. ‘What was Mollie doing here? I don’t like her being here.’

  ‘Never mind that. What I –’

  ‘But I do mind. She looked as if she was after something.’

  ‘Of course she was.’ He grinned. ‘The poor old soul has been trying to make me ever since I came here.’

  ‘She has?’ Virginia suddenly became animated, as if his words had switched away the veil of tiredness. ‘You mean even after I came? That woman’s got a nerve. Just let me get my hands on her!’ She picked up her skirts and moved fast. Joe grabbed at her, lurching forward, but she ran to the door and slammed through it. He heard her feet hurrying up the stairs, and then the slam of the other door into the house.

  ‘That’s torn it,’ Joe said aloud. He sat down again and beat his fist slowly on his knee, waiting for her to come back.

  When Virginia came down again she was flushed, and her eyes were shining. She looked invigorated, as if she had been for a walk in the fresh air.

  ‘Well, I did it!’ she said triumphantly. ‘I didn’t know I had it in me. I’ve never had a real slanging match with a woman before. I told her what I thought of her, and she told me what she thought of me. Didn’t you hear us shouting? Poor Paul put his head under the bedclothes. That creature … of all the nerve … that vile woman …’ She prowled round the room like an angry leopard, too aroused to keep still.

  Joe caught hold of her and swung her round to face him. ‘Who came with you in the taxi?’ he asked. His voice was more controlled now.

  ‘Only Derek.’ She blinked in surprise at being jerked out of her furious concentration on Mollie. ‘I tried to make him come in for a drink, but he wouldn’t. He’s a bit scared of you, I think.’

  ‘He’d better be.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly,’ Virginia said. ‘He was only being kind. For some reason, I suddenly felt faint after dinner, and I wanted to come home. Derek wouldn’t let me come alone.’ She laughed. ‘I think he thought I was pregnant.’

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘Of course not. You know that. But poor Derek was quite worried. He kept talking to me in a soothing voice, as if he — Joe, what is the matter? Why are you looking like that? Surely you can’t mind if a simple creature like Derek brings me home?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I mind? I’ve taken just about all I can stand from dear, simple, kind Derek, and all the rest of that fancy crowd you run around with, for that matter. I don’t want you to go back to that office.’

  ‘That’s nonsense. How can you be so childish? You’re drunk. You’ll forget all about it in the morning.’ She turned away, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her round again.

  ‘I said you’re not going back!’

  ‘Don’t shout at me. I heard you. And you heard me say it was nonsense. I’m not going to lose my job just because you choose to sit here with a whisky bottle and sulk yourself into a state of pointless jealously.’ She stood in front of him, with her cool, smooth shoulders and her cool, defiant face.

  ‘I said you’re not going back
.’ Joe did not shout it this time. He could not. The pounding in his head was in his throat too, robbing him of breath, filling his ears with the sound of Mollie’s mocking voice. Don’t you know she thinks she’s much too good for you?

  Virginia smiled. ‘I’ll do what I like.’ The smile disappeared under his hand as her head jerked backwards and she stumbled to the floor.

  It was the first time he had ever hit her. Even as his hand touched her mouth, he had the terrible feeling that now that he had done it once, it would be more easy to do it again.

  When the door opened, Virginia was still sitting on the floor with her hand to her mouth and her head hanging forward, the sparkling clip swinging on the end of her heavy lock of hair. She was half hidden behind a chair, and Joe went quickly to the door, so that Mollie should not come into the room and see her.

  ‘You can clear out,’ Mollie was shouting, her head jerking on her scrawny neck, and her eyes staring hatred. ‘You can clear out of my house – or be put out! People like you should be thrown on the street, that’s what I’m telling you, thrown on the street!’

  ‘Look here, Mollie, what on earth –?’

  ‘Don’t Mollie me, you lout. Don’t think I’m going to listen to anything from you after the things your wife said to me. If Paul was half a man, he’d come down here and kick your teeth in. As it is, I’m kicking you out. No one can speak to me like that and get away with it. A month’s notice, that’s the law. If you haven’t found anyone before that who’s fool enough to take you in, you can go and sleep on the Embankment for all I care. I’ll not have that – that – that – woman in my house!’ Mollie’s voice rose to a shrill stutter. ‘I don’t need people like you. I don’t have to put up with this from every common girl who wants to move in here and sleep with you. Married, you call yourselves. Well, I’m lady enough never to have asked any questions about that, but in my opinion –’

  ‘Shut up,’ Joe said, and she jerked up her hands as he took a step towards her. ‘Shut up talking like that. We’re married. We’ll get out all right, the sooner the better. You can keep your stinking basement.’

  Mollie slammed the door in his face. Joe turned back into the room as Virginia got to her feet, pulling herself up by the arm of a chair. What would he say to her? What would she say to him? What did a woman say after you had knocked her down?

  Virginia pushed back her hair. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Thanks for not letting her see me on the floor. That would have been too much of a triumph for her.’

  ‘Go on,’ Joe said. ‘Say it. Say what you think of me, and let’s get it over. I knocked you down. What are you going to say about that?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Virginia rubbed the side of her mouth thoughtfully. ‘I never was knocked down before. I don’t know what to say, except don’t do it again.’ She looked at him candidly. ‘It hurts.’

  Joe went to the bed and flung himself on it face downwards. That was the worst of getting drunk. One minute you wanted to hit out. The next minute you wanted to cry.

  *

  When Virginia got out of bed the next morning, Joe woke up, groaned, begged feebly for water, and rolled over on his side again. Virginia dressed, and made the best she could of her face, although the swollen side of her mouth and the small slit in her lip could not be disguised. She wondered if the girls would believe that she had run into a gate-post in the dark.

  As she went to the door, Joe turned over and sat up, feeling the sides of his head. His hair was on end and his chin was black with stubble, but the brown skin was stretched so firmly over the prominent bones of his face that a hangover did not make him bloated and puffy. He looked rather appealingly gaunt and deep-eyed, like a starving Mediterranean poet.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he asked.

  ‘To work, of course.’

  ‘I told you you weren’t going back there.’

  ‘That was last night. You didn’t mean it. Look, I must go. I’m late already. I didn’t think you would want breakfast.’

  ‘God forbid.’ He made a face. ‘All right, you’ll have to go there, I suppose, to give in your notice, and work out whatever time you owe them. But that’s all. You’re through with it, understand? You’re through as a career girl. You can get down to being Mrs Joe Colonna.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Virginia said. ‘And what will Mr and Mrs Colonna live on?’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ve something in mind. Don’t think I have to be kept by you. What do you think I am – a pimp?’

  ‘It isn’t a question of keeping you. Whether you get a job or not – Joe, I can’t give up mine now! I’m beginning to get somewhere. It’s what I’ve worked for, done my training for. If I stay on and get some more experience, I’ll be able to get something better on a newspaper, or another magazine. It’s what I want. You can’t stop me doing it because of some stupid jealousy about Derek.’

  ‘It isn’t only Derek.’ He was sitting hunched in the bed, with his arms round his knees. ‘Though I hate his guts. I hate the whole set-up. I don’t like you being a journalist. You’re too damn independent. They call you Miss Martin. I know they do. I don’t like that.’

  ‘But don’t you see it’s best for both of us that I should get ahead?’

  ‘If anyone gets ahead in this family, it’s going to be me.’

  ‘Why not both of us? Why not me too?’

  ‘Don’t ask me why. It’s just the way I feel. Of course, if you don’t care about how I feel, go ahead and live your own life. Plenty of marriages have been successfully broken up that way.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that. It doesn’t make any difference to our marriage. If you would only be sensible –’ Virginia was going to argue, but then she suddenly hated the argument, and the sickening chain of arguments and jealousy and battles that lay before them if she chose to go her own way.

  She sighed, and away with the breath of her sigh went all the things for which she had worked and planned. ‘All right then, darling.’ She could smile now, secure in her surrender. ‘If it makes you happy, of course I’ll give it up.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘Good girl.’ He lay back on the pillow. ‘That’s my girl,’ he murmured, and closed his eyes to sleep again. He had no idea of how much Virginia had just surrendered.

  *

  Was she right or wrong? What did it matter? She had done it. There was no going back on her promise. She had promised herself out of a job, and last night she had talked herself out of a home. What now?

  Virginia was only twenty-one, and she needed someone to talk to. There was no one. In her absorption with Joe, and the completely different circumstances in which she lived with him, she had lost touch with all her friends, except the people in the office, and there was no one there in whom she could confide. Even the married ones would not understand. They did not have husbands like Joe. Jane Stuart’s husband had the same idea as Joe, but Jane would not understand. She had dealt with her husband’s ideas by leaving him.

  Adelaide Small was the only one who knew that Virginia had made a runaway marriage. Could she tell Miss Small the truth about why she had to leave the magazine? Miss Small was wise and honest. Would she be the one to whom Virginia could talk?

  When Virginia went to the editor’s office, she was sandwiched in by Grace at the last minute, between two other interviews. Miss Small was very busy. She seemed preoccupied, scarcely looking at Virginia as she stood before the massive desk, and scarcely hearing the careful story that Virginia had prepared to explain her resignation. If she had queried it, or shown any interest, Virginia might have told her the truth. But Miss Small merely looked a little vexed, and said: ‘I’m to take it, I suppose, that you know your own mind this time, and won’t be turning up again looking for your job?’

  She dismissed Virginia briskly as Marigold came in, with a smile for Virginia that changed to a questioning look as she saw her disappointed face.

  ‘Virginia is leaving us,’ Miss Small sai
d, without looking up.

  ‘Oh? I’m sorry. It is true then – the good news that Derek’s been spreading around?’ Marigold’s eyes dropped instinctively from Virginia’s face to her figure.

  Virginia shook her head. ‘No. It’s … other things.’ She could not embark again on the story she had given to Miss Small. She might not tell it right. As she left the office, Adelaide Small was already discussing with Marigold who should be moved into the editorial office in Virginia’s place.

  Virginia walked part of the way home that evening, along the Mall, and round the Palace into Eaton Square. It was too warm to be shut up with a crowd on a bus. There were a lot of people walking to Victoria through St James’s Park. Many of them walked as though the paths were rails of habit, hurrying straight ahead without seeing the grass or the shining lake, where the waterfowl rode burnished in the slanting light.

  Virginia too had walked this way many times in the summer, but tonight she did not feel that she belonged with the work-day crowd. She had another week to work at the office, but already she did not seem to belong there any more. People had been kindly disappointed to hear that she was leaving, and momentarily curious about her plans, but their thoughts could not follow her beyond the bounds of the magazine.

  How useless to rely on getting help or advice from Miss Small, or anyone else. People could be allies and even cronies when you worked together, but as soon as you went outside their world, they lost interest. There was no one to rely on but yourself. You were the only one who could decide what should happen to you. Advice was only of value to support your own decisions. You did not take it if it was not what you wanted to do, so where was the purpose of seeking it?

  It was just that she wanted someone to talk to. The long terraces of Eaton Square would not have seemed so long if she were walking with someone, discussing her thoughts with someone who would abandon their own thoughts for long enough to listen to hers. There were so many things she could not talk to Joe about, and the chief of them was Joe himself.