The Angel in the Corner

by Monica Dickens

  ‘All but one small detail. What had Jack done?’

  ‘Nothing really. It was what he tried to do. But this damn fool girl at the cinema got panicky and gave him the all-clear too soon. The cashier only had to let out one peep and the whole place was swarming with people.’

  ‘Joe –’ She gripped his arm and searched his eyes, leaning forward so that her hair fell over her face. ‘Are you mixed up in this?’

  ‘Oh, lord, no, sweetheart.’ He spoke too easily. His smile was too casual. ‘I just happened to meet Jack at the races. I had no idea he was going, of course, but I was afraid we might have been seen together. That’s why I had to watch myself. There, I’ve told you all about it, and there’s nothing more to worry about. Now let’s get some sleep. I haven’t had much these last few nights.’

  Virginia’s mind was seething with questions, but she knew that it was useless to ask them. He was not going to tell her the truth. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘there’s nothing more to worry about.’ He closed his eyes and dug his cheek into the pillow as she got up from the bed. She watched him as she undressed. In a few minutes, he was either asleep, or pretending it. Did he really think that she was satisfied with his unconvincing story? Did he think her such a fool, or was it that he did not trust her with the truth?

  It was useless to try to get the truth from him. Almost immediately, the whole neighbourhood knew that Jack Corelli was awaiting trial for an attempted hold-up. Joe joined casually in the gossip and speculation when it came his way, but he would never discuss with Virginia his ill-fated trip to the races.

  He was restless and a little nervous for a few days, but he soon regained his spirits. He did not seem to be worrying any more about his own part – whatever his part had been – in the foolish, bungled crime. Virginia did all the worrying. She went to the window constantly, staring across the road at Mrs Baggott in her window, trying to determine whether the mysterious old lady was watching their flat. Had she seen Joe and Jack go off together? Did she know that Joe had been away all those days? Virginia had lived long enough in Weston House to be half credulous of the fable that Mrs Baggott knew everything, saw everything, and was an informer in the pay of both Satan and the police.

  Every day Virginia expected to see a police car stop outside Mrs Fagg’s house. Every day she expected to hear the authoritative knock on her own front door. Virginia had never been afraid of the police before, and the sensation was not pleasant. She realized for the first time how broad was the gap between the law-abiding and the lawless.

  Gradually, as the weeks went by, and spring crept unheralded by any growing green into the awakening street, her anxiety began to fade. Mrs Fagg hung all her flattened rugs out on the railings and beat at them with a bamboo stick. Gloria Dale came out in a new turquoise suit. Like a moulting animal, Miss Few shed the mangy hearthrug which was her winter fur coat. Windows that had been closed for months were opened with difficulty. The women across the street began to stand on their doorsteps again, and bronchial children were let out without the layers of clothing which had covered everything but their bony knees. The year was turning towards summer, and still the police car had not come for Joe, and Virginia began to relax and to forget her fears and to drift back towards the ranks of those to whom policemen are allies.

  She had something else to worry about now. When Joe came back from Warwickshire, his job at the Excelsior was gone. He was now back at his usual game of ‘looking around’. There was no knowing what he would do. He might get a job tomorrow. He might stay out of work for weeks, and Virginia’s doctor had told her that if she did not want to lose her baby, she must give up working at Etta Lee’s.

  She still had fifteen pounds of Spenser’s money. That was all. There was nothing left now but to ask Helen for help.

  Chapter 12

  As if to confirm Virginia’s decision to relax the struggle for independence, there came a letter from Helen to say that she and Spenser were flying to England for a short visit.

  I wish we could stay long enough, Helen wrote, for me to be there when the baby is born, but Spenser is too busy to be away from the office for very long. In any case, I hope to persuade you to fly back with us and have your baby in America. The hospitals and doctors are so much better here.

  It was plain that Helen was almost completely Americanized. English people tend to react in one of two ways when they first visit the United States. They either embrace it wholesale because it is different from England, or they reject it out of hand because it is not like England. Helen had embraced the country with both arms, and there was never a letter from her which did not draw some invidious comparison between the old world and the new.

  ‘She’s softening me up, you see,’ Virginia said, showing Joe the latest letter, ‘so that I will be amenable by the time she gets here.’

  ‘Will you be? Would you like to go?’

  ‘How can you ask that? I would never go without you, and I know you wouldn’t want to.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Joe said lazily. ‘I wouldn’t mind. There might be better opportunities for me over there, especially with a rich father-in-law.’

  ‘No,’ Virginia said firmly. ‘We’re staying here. You and I are Londoners. We would never be happy anywhere else.’

  ‘We’re not so deliriously happy now, if it comes to that – are we?’ Joe was sitting by the window in the slanting sun which found its way to their side of the street in the late afternoon. He spoke without looking at Virginia, staring expressionlessly down at the street, where some children were scrabbling with a puppy.

  ‘Aren’t we?’ Virginia asked. ‘I thought we were. Things are a bit rough now, I know, but we’ll get on our feet again, if Helen will help us. We’ll pay her back. It won’t stop us being independent.’

  ‘I’m not worrying about that,’ Joe said. ‘I’ll be happy to take anything the old girl will give us, and Lord knows she must have plenty to give. It’s just that – well, I don’t know. I thought you were fed up with me.’

  ‘You know I’m not.’ Virginia came to the window and stood beside him, looking across at the featureless blur that was Mrs Baggott’s face behind her dusty window.

  ‘You should be. Most women would be fed up with living in this hole, if they’d ever known anything better.’

  ‘I don’t mind it nearly as much as you do. I’ve got used to it. In any case, what difference does this place make to you and me? What difference does it make whether we have money or we haven’t? We’ve never had any money. We’ve always only had each other. Isn’t that good enough for you? It is for me. I’m not complaining.’

  ‘No,’ he said dourly. ‘That’s the trouble with you. You never complain.’

  ‘What do you want me to do? Throw the furniture about, or go for you with a kitchen knife, like Mrs Roper did with Will?’

  ‘At least that would put you in the wrong for a change. It’s always me who’s the louse, and honestly, Jin, you’re so God damn forbearing and unselfish that sometimes it’s enough to drive a man mad.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’ll try not to be in the future. Remind me to be selfish.’ She walked away from him. ‘I think I’ll go down to the shops. I’m not doing much good here.’

  She went into the bedroom to get the loose-fitting coat which she had to wear now. Her eyes were blurred, and when she looked into the mirror, she saw that the corners of her mouth were turned down. She hated the sound of the nasty little conversation, which was still vividly in her ears. When Joe said things which hurt her, she always remembered them word perfectly for a long time.

  When she came out of the bedroom, Joe said quite cheerfully, as if the conversation had never taken place: ‘Bring us in a pint of whisky, will you?’

  ‘If I do, I won’t be able to buy the meat.’

  ‘Forget the meat then. We’ll have all we can stuff into ourselves once Mrs Rockefeller gets here.’

  Virginia was hungry. She had been trying to fill he
rself up for too long with bread and cheap buns. She craved for meat, but what would Joe say if she took him at his word and retorted that she needed meat more than he needed whisky? He would not compliment her for being selfish. He would shout at her to get the whisky and shut up about it.

  *

  Virginia had no idea how Helen would behave towards Joe. Her mother never referred to him in her letters, and she had given no hint of how she felt about the marriage. Virginia was also uncertain of how Joe would behave towards Helen. He had only met her once, and then at a disadvantage, which had made him unusually diffident. Now that he was married to Virginia, he would be more cocky.

  It might be a little difficult. She saw them bristling at each other like two irreconcilable dogs, with herself caught in the middle, trying to keep peace with both sides.

  Joe was not in the flat when Helen came. Helen had not announced the date of her arrival, and she took Virginia by surprise by arriving at Weston House in a taxi and manifesting herself suddenly outside Virginia’s door with a face of incredulous horror.

  Virginia drew her into the flat and embraced her, feeling unusually tall. She had forgotten how short Helen was, short and decidedly stocky now, her figure plumped out, and not flattered by the expensive blackberry-coloured suit with the cuffed hem of the jacket standing out from her hips.

  Her kiss was somewhat perfunctory for a mother who had not seen her daughter for a year. The kissing and the welcome were quickly brushed aside in her impatience to speak.

  ‘Jinny!’ she cried, as soon as Virginia removed her arms. ‘This isn’t where you live! Just tell me it isn’t true. That’s all I want to know.’

  ‘Of course it’s true.’ Virginia was amused by the definite American inflection in her mother’s voice. ‘What’s wrong with it? Look.’ She waved her hand. ‘We have two rooms. The last place we lived, we didn’t even have a bedroom.’

  ‘But honey, it’s terrible! When the taxi brought me down that street, and slowed down, I couldn’t believe it. “Go on, driver,” I said. “I told you Weston House.” “This is Weston House,” he said. They don’t call you Madam any more, I notice. And he pointed to this – this filthy gaol building. My hands were shaking so that I could hardly count out the fare, and how I got up those stairs, I’ll never know. You shouldn’t be climbing all those flights in your condition.’ She looked at Virginia, sharply assessing her increased size.

  ‘Nonsense, Helen,’ Virginia said. ‘Exercise is good for you. Look, don’t let’s spend all our first time together crabbing about the flat. Sit down. Let me look at you. Tell me all about yourself and Spenser and your house and everything.’

  ‘I will in good time. Right now, I’m only interested in getting you out of this pigsty. Why didn’t you tell me about it? When you told me you had a flat, and the address, well, I never thought – I mean, Weston House, and the postal district – it sounded perfectly respectable. I knew you couldn’t be anywhere very grand, but this – this – why, Jinny, it’s a slum!’

  She sat down and looked round the room with a face of grim disgust. Her face fell into the lines of displeasure as naturally as if that were its most frequent expression. The luxury of marriage to Spenser, which had eased her life, had not eased or smoothed out the ageing lines of her face. The increased plumpness had not filled out the lines. It had chiselled them deeper below the puffy contours of her cheeks and chin. She was still smart, well-groomed, and very upright, but her smartness was too ostentatious. The blackberry suit was not simple enough. The glittering white-and-gold hat was too young for her. She wore too much heavy jewellery. Her gloves were too elaborately embroidered for the daytime.

  Virginia was amazed at the difference that a year had made in her. Admirably turned out as the editor of Lady Beautiful, a successful career-woman with a snap and a sparkle to her manner, she now looked like a rich, idle woman, for ever wanting something, for ever dissatisfied with it when she got it.

  ‘Let’s see.’ She was making plans busily, while Virginia boiled water for coffee. ‘We could have them unlock the door between our suite and the bedroom next to it. I’ll help you pack, and you can move into the Savoy tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll go out and buy clothes for you. Is that dreadful smock thing the only maternity garment you have?’

  ‘I have other things. I don’t need clothes.’ Virginia came out of the greasy alcove which housed the stove and the cracked sink. ‘And I’m not moving out, Helen, thank you all the same. Don’t let’s have a quarrel the minute you come, but I could tell by your voice that the door you are going to have unlocked is the door to a single bedroom. I’m not going anywhere without Joe. Or with him, for that matter. This is my home. I’m quite satisfied with it. If you can’t bear it, I’ll come and see you at the hotel. Joe and I will come and see you. You’ve got to understand that I’m married.’

  ‘We’ll talk about that later.’ Helen tightened her mouth. ‘Don’t give me any coffee,’ she said, having watched Virginia make it. ‘I’ll have to drink tea while I’m over here. I can’t stand English coffee any more. Where is – Joe?’ She had some difficulty in bringing out his name. ‘What is his job now?’

  A pounding on the door saved Virginia from answering. Mrs Batey, with one of Edgar’s old shirts tied round her waist by the sleeves to make an apron, had brought a plate of gingerbread.

  ‘I was making a batch, dear,’ she said, ‘so I made extra for you. I know you need it. It’s the sweetness, see. Enriches the blood. Oh, excuse me.’ She came right into the room and confronted Helen. ‘I didn’t know you had company.’

  ‘This is my mother,’ Virginia said. ‘She’s just come over from America. Helen, this is Mrs Batey.’

  ‘Your mum!’ Mrs Batey wiped her hand on Edgar’s shirt and seized Helen’s hand, which was still gloved. ‘Well, this is a treat, I must say.’ She stood flushed and beaming, taking in every detail of Helen’s clothes and jewellery, for retailing to the rest of the women in the flats.

  Helen glanced nervously at her glove. ‘I’m glad to know you, Mrs Batey,’ she said, too condescendingly. ‘My daughter has told me in her letters that you have been kind to her.’

  ‘Well, of course.’ Mrs Batey squirmed with pleasure, and pushed back her disordered hair. ‘I’ve done what I can. I always believe in helping the young ones when they’re starting out. And as I say, we’re all in this world to help each other. Virginia is a lovely girl, Mrs – er, and since she didn’t have a mother’s care, I’ve treated her like my own, and glad to do it. Especially now that she’s carrying. I’ll be here to help her when her time comes. Don’t worry about that.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Helen said, ‘but Virginia is coming away with me. She won’t be here more than a few days at the most.’

  ‘Yes, I will –’ Virginia began, but Helen silenced her with a look, and Virginia realized that they could not have an argument in front of Mrs Batey.

  Mrs Batey’s shining face had fallen. She looked from one to the other in undisguised disappointment. ‘Well, that is bad news,’ she said. ‘There’s many here that will be sorry to see her go, but I dare say it’s all for the best for her to have everything nice, and what she should have. Not that there’s anything wrong with these flats, mind, but this would be a pokey place to start a family. Of course, I have a much larger place,’ she said grandly. ‘One of the better flats.’

  ‘Mum!’ screamed a voice outside the door. ‘Baby’s done a puddle again.’

  ‘Oh dear, I’ll have to go,’ Mrs Batey said equably. ‘No peace for the wicked, they say. Bring the plate back any time, love, and good-bye, Mrs – er. Step across the way any time you feel like it.’ Mrs Batey opened the door, and shooed away the dirty child who tried to peer round her legs to look at Helen.

  ‘Who,’ Helen said faintly, ‘who was that woman?’

  ‘I told you. Mrs Batey. She’s my friend. She’s been nicer to me than any friend I ever had, so don’t be witty about her, please.’

  ‘Oh, my God,’ Helen sai
d. ‘I didn’t know you’d become a Socialist, on top of everything else. Don’t be bitter with me, honey.’ She did not call Virginia ‘Dear Heart’ any more. That was too English. ‘You’re a little warped, I expect, because of your condition.’

  ‘Don’t drag that in,’ Virginia said. ‘It makes no difference to the way I feel. As soon as you get pregnant, everyone starts to make that an excuse for everything you do. Why should they? It doesn’t make you a different person, just because you are temporarily two people.’

  ‘You haven’t changed,’ Helen said. ‘You look ghastly – ten years older, but that’s beside the point. You haven’t changed. Right now I’m going to take you back to the Savoy and feed you two people the biggest dinner you have probably had since I went away. Some sort of cream soup, I think. Steak, very rare, then perhaps a crème aux marrons, if they still do that well. What do you say?’

  Virginia could feel the juices beginning to flow in her mouth. The thought of sitting down in the comfort of the Savoy Grill and eating that food made her almost faint with desire.

  ‘Change into something you can be seen in,’ Helen said, ‘and call a taxi.’

  ‘We haven’t got a telephone,’ Virginia said.

  ‘I’ll get a taxi for you. Who wants a taxi? Anyone want to leave?’ Joe came into the flat. He had apparently been listening outside the door. He came forward a little unsteadily, with a wide grin on his face, held out his hand to Helen, then changed his mind and bent to kiss her.

  Helen moved a step away. ‘You’ve been drinking,’ she said.

  ‘Sure. Know any law against it?’

  Virginia’s heart sank. So he was going to be difficult. He was going to be defiant, trying to show that he was as good as anybody, and succeeding only in being insolent. Now it would all start again – the antagonism and the disparagement and the unpleasantness, just when Virginia had hoped that she could reconcile her mother to her husband.