The Angel in the Corner

by Monica Dickens

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Felix asked politely, leaning forward as if he had not heard correctly.

  ‘You heard me. Stay away from here. I don’t want you hanging round my wife.’

  ‘I assure you, Mr Colonna, I had no intention –’ Felix looked discreetly surprised. Joe was excited and breathing heavily, but Felix remained calm and poised, with his umbrella over his arm and his hat and neatly-folded newspaper on the bar in front of him.

  Virginia was bitterly ashamed that Joe should show himself like this in front of Felix, and terrified that the other people in the bar would hear, and stop talking to watch the scene.

  ‘Well?’ Joe stuck out his jaw. ‘Are you going, or do I have to chuck you out?’

  ‘Joe – please!’ Virginia pulled at his arm, and he pushed her roughly away.

  ‘It’s all right.’ Felix did not look at Joe. He looked at Virginia, and his eyes were filled with concern. ‘I’ll go. I don’t want to cause any trouble. God knows I didn’t come here for that.’ He took his hat and newspaper off the bar. ‘Good-bye, Virginia. You know where to find me if you need me.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ Joe said. ‘She won’t need you. She never did.’ But Felix had already turned and was walking out of the bar, putting on the stiff black hat, which came down too low on his ears and immediately made him look a lesser man, subordinated to the hat.

  Virginia could not bear to watch him walk through the door with the hat spoiling his dignity. She turned away and went into the kitchen through the door behind the bar. It was nearly closing time, and she began to make sandwiches for lunch. She heard Joe close and lock the front door. She heard him stop in the bar to pour himself another drink, which he brought into the kitchen. He sat down at the table and leaned his elbows on it, watching her while she moved about the room. She saw that he had half a tumbler of neat whisky between his hands.

  ‘You shouldn’t drink so much in the middle of the day,’ Virginia said.

  ‘Why not? I’ll sleep it off this afternoon. You should be glad if I can drink myself to sleep. Gives you a chance to run round the corner and meet your boy-friend.’

  Virginia did not answer. ‘I said, it gives you a chance to run out and meet your boy-friend,’ Joe repeated, irritated that he could not goad her.

  ‘Oh, stop it,’ she said. ‘You’ve made a big enough fool of yourself for one day. Felix won’t come back here again. You can give yourself marks for that – if you like losing customers – but you can’t give yourself any marks for sense.’

  Joe took a drink of whisky and made a face. He was at the stage when alcohol is repulsive and essential at the same time. He banged his glass down on the table. ‘I’ve got enough sense to see when a man is trying to make my wife,’ he said surlily, ‘and when my wife is making it easy for him.’

  ‘That’s a lie.’ Virginia faced him across the table. ‘I don’t think anything about Felix. He’s been kind to me, that’s all, and I’ve known him for quite a long time. You just don’t throw away your friends because your husband is unreasonably jealous.’

  ‘You would if you cared anything about how your husband felt. That’s the hell of it.’ Joe gazed moodily into space, his eyes black and empty.

  ‘Not that again. I can’t argue with you when you’re like that, because you won’t listen to the truth.’

  ‘How do I know when you’re telling me the truth? I tell you, it’s a hell of a situation.’

  ‘I’ve always told you the truth. You know that. And I’m telling it now. I don’t care a thing for Felix. I never did. I’ve never cared for anyone but you.’

  ‘I notice you don’t use the word love any more,’ Joe said cunningly, shifting his eyes to look at her without moving his head.

  ‘It means the same thing. Here’ – Virginia pushed a plate in front of him – ‘eat your sandwiches, and I’ll make some coffee. That will do you much more good than the whisky. Give me the glass and I’ll pour it away.’

  ‘The hell you will.’ Joe grabbed the glass as she reached for it, swallowed the rest of the drink, and stood up. ‘Come here,’ he said. ‘No, nearer. I want to talk to you.’

  When she was standing in front of him, he stared at her, trying to focus his eyes, swaying a little on his feet. ‘Tell me the truth then,’ he said. ‘Now that you’ve seen that guy again, and now that you’ve been married to me for nearly two years, during which I’ve – how did your charming mother put it – dragged you with me into the gutter, weren’t you wishing out there in the bar that you were married to him instead of me?’

  ‘No.’ Virginia shook her head. She could say it honestly, because she had not thought of it. Now, the idea passed through her mind. Marriage to Felix … safe, dull, gentle. A comfortable home, children, security, friends, graceful, polite parties … so very different from this, and she herself a very different person. A little dull herself by now probably, securely undemanding, content never to know what her body was capable of, never to guess at the passion or the pain.…

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Joe was watching her.

  She brought her eyes back to his face and said honestly: ‘I was thinking what it would have been like being married to Felix. I wouldn’t …’

  ‘You dirty bitch!’ Joe lurched forward and struck her in the face. She staggered, clutching at the table, and ducked her head as he aimed another wild blow at her.

  ‘Oh, crumbs, Mrs C. – oh, crumbs!’ Lennie had come running into the room when Joe shouted. He pushed Virginia out of the way and stood, pathetically courageous between her and Joe, squaring his elbows and doubling his fists, his voice trembling up to a squeak. ‘You leave her alone, you brute, do you hear me? I’ll get the police. You lay a hand on her, and I’ll get the police to you!’

  Joe put his hands on his hips and roared with laughter. ‘I’ll get the police to you!’ he mimicked. ‘What’s the matter – can’t you fight it out yourself? Put your hands up, big boy, and let’s see who’s boss around here.’

  Joe raised his fists, feinting at Lennie with a leering grin. The boy flailed his weak arms like drumsticks. For a moment, Virginia thought that Joe was going to hit him. His arm shot out, and he picked up Lennie by the collar and set him neatly aside. ‘All right, you sickly little bastard,’ he said. ‘You keep out of my way, if you don’t want what’s coming to you.’

  ‘You leave her alone then,’ Lennie gibbered, ‘or I’ll –’

  ‘Oh, shut your trap, you little rat.’ Joe pushed him aside and slouched towards the back door.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Virginia asked. ‘Don’t you want your lunch?’ What a silly thing to say. Just the sort of futile thing one did say after a crisis.

  Joe turned at the door. ‘Lunch?’ he said vaguely, as if the word meant nothing to him. ‘God, no. I’m not hungry. I’m going to get some air. I feel like hell.’ He brushed the back of his hand across his forehead. His face was pale and sticky with sweat. ‘I think I’ll go and chop some firewood. Do me good. I’ll pretend I’ve got Lennie’s neck under the hatchet.’ He gave a short, brutal laugh, fumbled with the door-handle, and went out into the little courtyard.

  Virginia sat down and tried to smile at Lennie. The side of her face was flushed and burning. ‘It’s all right, Lennie,’ she said. ‘Don’t look so upset.’

  ‘I am,’ he said. ‘Proper upset. It’s not right, Mrs C. He’s getting so he’s not safe any more when he’s been drinking. He’ll chop his hand off out there, the state he’s in,’ he added, not without satisfaction. ‘I tell you what it is. I reckon he’s drinking so bad these days because he can’t forget what he did to our baby.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Virginia frowned. ‘It wasn’t his fault. She could have died even if I had been there.’

  ‘Didn’t you know then?’ Lennie poked his head forward to search her face with incredulous eyes. ‘Didn’t he ever tell you?’

  ‘Tell me what? What are you trying to say?’

  ‘He dropped her on the stairs.
He’d been down with her in the bar, drinking, see. He wasn’t too steady on his legs and he dropped her. Out there on the stone. I saw her laying there, just before he picked her up. I’d been in the storeroom, see, waiting for Nancy. He didn’t know I was there, but when I heard him slip and curse, I came into the Public, and I saw it, although he never seen me. He just picked up the baby and run upstairs. Oh, crumbs, Mrs C.,’ he said, watching Virginia’s face. ‘I’m ever so sorry. I made sure he’d have told you.’

  Virginia was surprised to hear herself speaking in a normal voice. She sat with her hands on the edge of the table, propping herself up, because she felt so faint. ‘It doesn’t make any difference,’ she said. ‘Jenny is dead now. It doesn’t make any difference.’

  ‘If that’s the way you want to look at it.’ Lennie fumbled with his shirt-collar, which Joe had pulled out of place. ‘Do you feel all right now, Mrs C.? If you don’t need me, I think I’ll pop out and get my lunch. This little upset has made me a bit peckish.’

  ‘Of course,’ Virginia said flatly. ‘Go and get your lunch.’

  ‘You sure you’ll be all right?’ Lennie hesitated, glancing towards the back door, where erratic sounds of chopping could be heard. ‘Oh, well,’ he said, as Virginia nodded, ‘I’ll say bye-bye for now. I shan’t be more than a few minutes.’

  When he had gone, Virginia tried to think. Her mind was numb. The thoughts would not come. There was only a picture, a picture of Jenny, lying in a tiny heap on the cold stone at the foot of the stairs. Dead? Perhaps she had been dead already when Joe put her back in the crib, and he had not had the courage to tell her.

  The back door burst open and Joe came in, cursing. ‘Nicked myself,’ he said, holding up a bleeding finger. ‘Moral – always sober up before you use a chopper.’ He flung the hatchet down on the table and went to the sink to hold his finger under the tap.

  ‘Joe,’ Virginia said quietly, sitting with her head down, not looking at him, ‘why didn’t you tell me you dropped Jenny on the stairs the night she died?’

  Joe wheeled round. ‘Who says I did?’

  ‘Lennie. He was in the public bar. He saw it.’

  ‘Oh.’ Joe came towards her, sucking his finger. He had not turned the tap off tightly, and it dripped with a steady musical patter into the sink behind him. ‘Well – what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Nothing, except to say that you should have told me. Why didn’t you, Joe? Were you afraid?’

  ‘Afraid?’ He tossed back his hair. ‘I’m not afraid of anyone.’

  ‘It explains so much. The doctor took it for granted, I suppose, that it was pneumonia, because he knew she had it, but I’ve never been able to understand how she could have been better, and then suddenly snuffed out like that.’

  ‘Now you know. I killed her.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ Virginia got up quickly and went to him. Her head was aching from the blow of his hand. She felt dizzy and uncertain of herself, but she knew that she had to straighten this out now, because they could not go on with the bitterness of it between them. ‘It wasn’t your fault. Joe, please don’t look like that. Don’t be wretched about it. I can see what you must have been through, thinking it was your fault, but it could have happened to anybody.’

  ‘If they were drunk enough,’ he said bitterly. ‘Stop making excuses for me. Of course it was my fault. I probably broke the poor little beggar’s neck, only that lousy doctor was too sure of himself to notice it. You can tell the police that. Oh, yes, you’ll have to tell them. They’ll get me for murder – manslaughter at the best. Have poor little Jenny dug up and argued over. You read about it in the papers. “Baby exhumed. Father charged.” ’ He laughed bleakly. ‘Make a lovely little scandal, won’t it? Hellish good for trade. This will be the only pub in London.’

  ‘How could you think I would ever tell anyone? This is between you and me, Joe, and I’ll never talk about it even to you, if you don’t want. Talking about it won’t bring Jenny back. It’s best forgotten.’

  She held out her hand, but he pushed her away. ‘Grow up,’ he said. ‘Stop forgiving me. Stop being so bloody noble, and talk like a human being. Curse me. Accuse me, as you’ll accuse me all your life. Every time you look at me, you’ll think: That man killed my baby! That’s what I think of myself every time I look in the glass. How do you think I like living with that? How will you like living with me now that you know?’

  He was breathless and shaking. He clenched and unclenched his hands, and his eyes were dark pits of anguish. He stood looking at her for a moment while the tap dripped unconcernedly into the silence. Then suddenly he sagged, his arms hung limply, and his face crumpled. ‘Jin –’ he said, and she thought that he was going to cry. ‘You’ll go on with me, won’t you? This isn’t the end? I can’t live with myself if you don’t go on with me.’ He reached out for her. His drunken face was weak and quivering, his hands clutched at the air. She could not touch him when he looked like that.

  ‘Of course I’ll go on with you,’ she said. The words sounded empty and hopeless.

  ‘Come here.’ He lurched towards her. ‘Come here when I tell you. Don’t back away like that, damn you – come here! You belong to me. You’re my wife, that’s all you’ll ever be. God damn you, don’t look so disgusted. You think you’re too good for me, don’t you. I could kill you when you look at me like that, you damn ladylike –’ He grabbed the hatchet and threw it at her.

  In a split second she saw it coming, and raised her hands too late. She felt no pain as it struck her. She fell across a chair and rolled to the floor, and as she lay there with her arm tangled in the overturned chair, she felt the warm blood tickling her face like a feather. The blood was in her eyes and she could not see, but she heard Joe stumble past her, and heard the shot and the crashing bottles. Then silence, until Lennie’s screams brought people running, and the Olive Branch was full of noise and voices.

  Chapter 16

  It was the kind of story that makes the front page of the newspapers: a one-day sensation, read with pleasurable horror and easily forgotten. After Mrs Benberg read the story, she had spent all the following days at the hospital, making a nuisance of herself until she was allowed to see Virginia. She continued to make herself a nuisance to the hospital staff, coming at all the wrong times, with vast quantities of unsuitable food, until she was finally allowed to take Virginia home with her.

  ‘Don’t tell my mother. Please don’t let anyone tell my mother what’s happened,’ Virginia had begged. ‘I don’t want to see her … and listen to her. Not yet.’ That was the only thing she had asked. For the rest, she had submitted without protest to everything that was arranged for her, and she now lay listlessly on the narrow, humpy bed, among the boyish relics of Jim’s schooldays in the small front bedroom of Mrs Benberg’s house.

  Life had stopped. Whatever future there might be was indiscernible, hidden round a corner which she had not the energy to negotiate. She might as well be here as anywhere else. The meaningless days and nights ran into each other, and although the doctor said that she could get up, it did not seem to matter whether she got out of bed again or not.

  Jim was home on leave, relegated to the downstairs settee and perfectly happy about it. Like his mother and father, he could not do enough for Virginia. He was in and out of her room all day with a joke, or a present, or flowers, or an armful of magazines. ‘Something to cheer you up,’ he would say, darting his chubby, beaming face round the door, with his curly hair on end and his cheeks on fire from the wind in the street.

  He could not cheer her up, but at least he could give her his bedroom. He was proud of that. ‘Think nothing of it,’ he said, when Virginia apologized for keeping him out of his bed. ‘Of course you’re not spoiling my leave. As a matter of fact, it’s simply made this leave for me, having you here. I’m falling in love with you,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I never met a girl like you, and I don’t suppose I ever shall again, so I might as well make the most of having you he
re.’

  Like his parents, he was devotedly eager to help Virginia, and took as much pleasure as they did in doing it. Disaster brought out all that was best in the Benbergs. They rallied unswervingly to the challenge as if it were a crusade, and subordinated all their other interests to Virginia, around whose bed the life of the flimsy little house now revolved. For Jim, she was a sensational figure, unattainable, but an object of dazzled worship because she had taken part in the kind of drama for which his own cheery life would never be the stage.

  When she heard Jim’s breezy tattoo on the door, Virginia always turned her face aside, and kept the right side against the pillow while she talked to him. She was ashamed of the hideous raw scar which ran from her temple almost to the angle of her jaw. She had looked at herself once in a mirror, and then she had asked Mrs Benberg to take the mirror away, so that she could not see the appalling stigma which she bore in memory of Joe.

  She had wept when she looked in the mirror, but not only for her ruined face, and because the doctor would not predict how well the wound would heal. When she wept, weakly, hopelessly among the china animals and the schoolboy books and photographs in Jim’s room, her tears were for Joe, and for the terrible way his life had ended.

  She knew that her mother would say that she was well out of it, because of what he had done to her. That was why she could not bear to see Helen. Even Spenser might say that. It was what everyone would say. Only Mrs Benberg understood that her marriage to Joe had held the enchantment of a dream as well as the horror of a nightmare, and that the awakening was not merciful, but bitterly sad.

  Mrs Benberg was a tireless and enthusiastic nurse. She scoured the neighbouring shops for delicacies. Her spirited step on the stairs rattled the little house countless times a day as she ran up to see what she could do to make Virginia comfortable. Unlike Jim, who was always trying to tease a laugh out of Virginia, Mrs Benberg did not try to cheer her up. ‘What’s the percentage?’ she said. ‘You’re wretched now. You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t, so it’s no use my trying to bully you into being happy. That will come later, and no doubt you’ll bully yourself into it without any help from me.’