They were all laughing, Joe loudest of all, and Don, looking at them, could not help but pick up the approval he saw in their eyes and allow it to register in his own. He liked this fellow. But by God, if he knew anything, he was going to throw a spanner into the works today because she would go mad! If the man had been a Protestant or an atheist even, he might have got by, but a black man who was likely to become her brother-in-law! Oh my, my, his being a barrister wouldn’t make much difference in this case. But now, out of politeness, he asked of the visitor, ‘Being a barrister, sir, what kind of cases do you handle?’
‘Rogues; mostly rich ones.’
‘Oh, Harvey, you don’t! Not all the time. You take on poor people too.’ She was smacking at the big hand which rested on the head of the couch, and he, looking down at her, said, ‘Woman, they are still rogues, all of them.’
Joe stared at the man. He could imagine him in court: he would be powerful; even his presence would show strength. And that voice…that was the second time in the last few minutes he had called Flo ‘woman’. But the way he split up the word, it came out like a caress, woo…man, as another man might say, dar…ling. When he heard Don saying, to Flo, ‘Mother would like you to go up and see her. She’s in the middle of dressing, and you know how long that takes,’ he thought, Yes, it would be a long time before Mam came down those stairs to meet this visitor.
‘Oh well,’ said Flo, rising from her seat, ‘here’s the mountain going to Muhammad.’ Then she cast a sidelong glance at her fiancé, saying, ‘Do you think you’ll be able to cope until I return?’ And Harvey’s reply: ‘You know how I am without you, so don’t be long,’ must have perplexed the assembled company, thought Flo, as she made her way upstairs, not only because of his choice of words, but also by his tone.
The nearer Flo got to the door of Winifred’s room, the straighter her back became. When her knock received no response, she gently pushed open the door, and there, across the room, and seated near the window, was her sister.
Flo closed the door behind her, and had walked halfway towards Winifred before she spoke. ‘Hello, there!’ she said. And when Winifred’s lips tightened, it occurred to her that the bombshell must have already dropped. Of course, Don would have told her; he would likely have seen them arrive.
‘How are you?’
At this, Winifred swung round and through tight jaws said, ‘How dare you?’
‘How dare I what?’
‘You know what I mean; don’t act the innocent: bringing a black man here!’
‘Oh, that!’ Flo shrugged her shoulders before going on, ‘He’s no black man; he’s mixed race, as if it makes any difference; a good-looking, handsome, mixed-race man. He’s a barrister, a gentleman, and well respected.’
‘Shut up! Well respected. They don’t even let them into working men’s clubs in this town. And you’ve done this on purpose, haven’t you, you and him between you?’
‘What do you mean, me and him? He knows nothing about you.’
‘I mean Daniel.’
‘Daniel? What are you talking about?’
‘I was given to understand that you had bumped into each other in London and that you had told him you were a secretary to a barrister and engaged to him.’
‘Yes, yes, that’s what I told Daniel. But he never met the barrister, though I see now that’s why I got an invite to the wedding: you thought I’d gone up in the world and you thought it would be one up for you to claim that your sister was engaged to a barrister. My God! You haven’t changed a bit, have you, Winnie?’
‘Well, that makes two of us, for first time around you had to go and marry a cheap insurance agent, a drunk.’
‘Harry was no drunk, not in that sense; he was an alcoholic, and he was a decent enough fellow. But in your opinion he was somebody to be ashamed of. Just like Father. Remember Father?’
‘Yes. Oh yes, I remember Father.’
‘Well, that surprises me, when you wouldn’t go to see him even when he was dying. You hadn’t even the decency to go and see Mam. No, you were out for prize money and you hooked on to it through Daniel. It really wasn’t him you wanted but what he could provide you with. Which has been proved, hasn’t it?’
Her nose wrinkling, Winifred said scornfully, ‘You…you know nothing about it. You’ll always be cheap and common. When you came into this room a moment ago you had an accent that any ignoramus could detect was assumed, but now you are yourself again, aren’t you? Well, as yourself, you can go down and take your coloured man out of my house. You can give the excuse that this is just a flying visit. You understand?’
Flo slowly drew herself up to her full height, so dwarfing the standing, fat figure before her, and remained silent for a moment; then she said, ‘I came up for Don’s wedding and to Don’s wedding I and my fiancé will go. And we’ll attend the reception afterwards. And only then, perhaps, will we think of leaving. Mr Rochester is a gentleman, an educated gentleman, far above your husband or your sons in education, and if you don’t treat him at least with civility, then you can prepare for squalls, because you know me, Winnie: when I get going I’ve got a loud voice and I can put things over, especially home truths, in a very jocular way, and so make people laugh while they ponder. I have that knack, haven’t I? Well, I can assure you I’ll do my piece. If you are not downstairs within half an hour I’ll promise you one of the best performances of my life, solely for your guests, one hundred and thirty of them I understand. Think on it, Winnie. Think on it.’ And on this she turned slowly about and left the room: and her step was steady as she went down the stairs.
As she entered the drawing room her fiancé was saying, ‘My grandparents came over at the end of the last century. They were from California, and they went into service in a gentleman’s family just outside of London. They had a son who grew up in the same establishment and became a sort of factotum; and just after the last war he married one of the housemaids. And they had a son, and about the same time the daughter of the house and her husband, who lived with her parents, had their third son. The young mixed-race boy’—he now pointed his forefinger towards himself—‘and the three boys grew up together. They were sent to boarding school, I was sent to the local school, from where I got to the grammar school. The only black boy there. I stood out, I can tell you.’ His smile was broad now. ‘And from there it was just a natural step to university. I didn’t stand out so much there, for there were other dark faces to be seen. Well, I read law, and there you are.’
Flo came quietly into the room at this point, saying, ‘And one of the sons of that house is a solicitor and he brings him cases. But there’s not much left of the younger one, for he was blown up during the war. But we go and see him every month. And those three sons are his closest friends.’
It was evident to Daniel, Joe and Don that, as they had expected, Flo had had a hard time upstairs, for her eyes were bright and her lips were trembling slightly.
It was also evident to Harvey, and when he addressed her, ‘Woo…man, come here,’ and she complied, he took her hand, and gazing into her eyes, he said, ‘Would you like to go home?’
Before she had time to reply, Daniel’s voice broke in loud and harsh: ‘Home? She’s just come.’ And he went quickly to her, took her by the shoulders and pressed her down on the couch, saying, ‘You’ve come for the wedding,’ then glanced up at the scowling face and added, ‘You’ve both come for the wedding and for the wedding you will stay. You’re my guests, and’—he looked across at his two sons—‘Don’s and Joe’s guests. Am I right?’
And together they said, ‘Yes, certainly.’
Flo put out her hand towards Daniel, saying, ‘It’s all right; I’m all right. Winnie’s dressing; she’ll be down shortly.’
‘Oh, well; in the meantime we’ll have some coffee, it’s too early for the hard stuff, at least for me. What about you?’ He looked towards Harvey who, smiling, replied, ‘Me too. Coffee will be fine.’
‘Well, excuse me for a minute;
I’ll go and tell Maggie. You haven’t seen her yet, have you?’
‘No; nor Stephen.’
‘Oh well, we’ll have to do a tour. There’s plenty of time before the big show starts, although I think, Don, you’d better get outside and see how things are going in the marquee.’
And so it was that Joe was left alone with them and, after a moment, looking at the man who was still standing at the head of the couch, he said, ‘Come and sit down; you look too big even for me.’
With a slight nod Harvey took his seat on the couch beside Flo and immediately put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her tightly towards him, and as if he knew he had a friend in Joe, he said to her, ‘A bad time up there?’
And lying with a smile, she answered, ‘No, no, not really. But you know, as I told you, we’ve never agreed, not since I first lisped her name and called her Win instead of Winifred. I was three and she ten when she first boxed my ears. But I was six and she thirteen when I first hit her with the coal shovel. Since then our war has just been verbal.’
‘What a pity’—Joe, sitting opposite to them was laughing now—‘because, believe it or not, Aunt Flo…’ he now leant towards her and, his voice a whisper, he said, ‘you’re not the only one who would like to use a coal shovel at times.’ Then straightening up and in a more sombre tone, he asked, ‘I can tell you seriously, at least, I should say, I can’t tell you what life is going to be like once her favourite lad walks back down the aisle today because, as you only too well know, Aunt Flo, he’s all she’s lived for for years.’
‘Yes, I’m aware of that. But what puzzles me is how she came to approve of the marriage in the first place.’
‘Well, to be truthful’—Joe’s voice sank—‘Dad manoeuvred it.’
‘And she let him?’
‘Well, it was a case of between the devil and the deep sea. You know Dad’s got a cousin in America. Well, he’s succeeded in much the same business as Dad’s, only in a much bigger way, and two years or so ago Dad asked him to find a place for Don. At the same time…’ He hesitated now and glanced towards the flowers in the hearth, then passed one lip over the other before turning back to them again and saying, ‘Well, in some way he found out that Annette was sweet on Don…’
‘But she must have been still a schoolgirl, still at the convent.’
‘Yes, she was a schoolgirl of nearly eighteen, Aunt Flo. She could have gone on to college—I think she wanted to be a teacher—but apparently she wanted Don more, and so Mam had to decide whether she would have her son in America or ten miles away in Hazel Cottage in Northumberland. So, with bad grace she plumped for the latter.’
‘Ten miles away! And she still can’t drive. I wonder she allowed that.’
‘Oh, she has Bill to take her all over the place. Still, it’s not on the doorstep exactly. Again, it was Dad’s doing.’
As Joe pulled a face, Flo said, ‘No wonder she’s on a high key…’
‘And my appearance hasn’t, I’m sure, helped matters,’ said Harvey.
‘Oh, I don’t know so much.’ Joe grinned at Harvey now, saying, ‘You’ve acted as a diversion.’
‘Like a red light depicting a road up, in this case black. Never mind.’ He squeezed Flo to him. ‘What I’ll do is imagine I’m in court and she is the prosecuting counsel and I’m defending a lone woman’—he again pressed Flo to him—‘who is not only beautiful, but kind and understanding. But her main attraction for me is she is the best secretary in the business.’
They were laughing when Maggie brought the coffee in. She showed no reaction. They were again laughing when Stephen came into the room, and he, seeing the visitor, exclaimed, ‘Oh! You are a big black man.’ And Harvey, knowing all about Stephen’s condition, replied, ‘And aren’t you a big white man, and a fine-looking one into the bargain.’
They were still laughing when, in a group, they inspected the marquee with its pink cord carpet and its garlands of flowers looped from stanchion to stanchion…But their laughter and chatter dwindled away when Winifred appeared in the doorway, looking like a very overblown flower herself.
It should happen that Harvey was nearest to her, six steps from her, and when nobody moved or spoke he covered the distance and, standing in front of her, he held out his hand, and in a cultured tone, the like of which she had never heard in all her years in Fellburn, said, ‘I must apologise, Mrs Coulson, for intruding on this, your special day.’ Then, his deep voice dropping to a level that only she could hear, he added, ‘If you find my presence embarrassing I will take my leave, because I do not wish that you be upset, especially today.’
Her lids were blinking rapidly. To the side, she took in Flo, her face straight, her eyes bearing a threat that she could not ignore. And yet, even if there had been no threat she would have found it difficult to order this unusual creature to leave. Such was her make-up that she was asking herself: how had their Flo come to be taken up by a man such as this, even if he was black, because there was something about him, not only the size of him and his looks, and that voice of his, there was just something. And she wasn’t surprised when she heard herself say, ‘I…I am not in the least embarrassed. Why should I be?’
When her hand was taken and firmly but gently shaken, she could not put a name to this new feeling that she had for her sister, for she had never been jealous of her in her whole life.
Following the visit to the marquee a feeling of gaiety seemed to pervade the whole house.
It was just turned twelve o’clock when Don, fully dressed for the fray except for his grey topper, ran out of the side door and around the end of the house towards Joe’s cottage. It was as he passed one of the small windows, which were original to the cottage, that he stepped back and his head drooped to the side, for there, kneeling by a chair, and obviously praying, was Joe.
Either Joe became aware of a shadow at the window or he sensed someone’s presence, for he raised his head quickly, and they stared at each other for a moment.
On entering the room Don said quietly, ‘You worried about something, Joe?’
‘No, no.’
‘But you were…well…’
‘Yes, praying. Don’t you ever pray?’
‘Never in the middle of the day. You’re sure there’s nothing wrong? Anyway, you haven’t been to church lately. You’ll have the sleuths after you; or at least Father Cody.’
‘Well, if you want to know, young ’un, I was just asking that…well, that you’d both be happy.’
‘Oh, Joe.’ There was a break in Don’s voice and impulsively he put his arms around his brother, for he thought of him as his brother in all ways, and Joe held him too before pushing him off and saying, ‘What do you want in this neck of the woods, anyway?’
‘I…I just want to phone Annette, have a word with her, see how she feels, and I couldn’t do it from the house, could I?’
‘Go ahead.’ Joe thumbed towards the adjoining room, which he used as an office, and he waited until Don had entered it before he himself turned about and went into his bedroom. And there he stood with his back to the door, while his head drooped onto his chest.
In the office Don was saying, ‘Oh, Sarah? It’s me. Could you get Miss Annette to the phone for a minute?’
‘Oh, Mr Don’—the voice came at him in a whisper—‘she’s getting dressed. Oh, and here’s Mrs Allison.’
‘Hello! Who is it? Oh, Don, what on earth do you want? You know it’s unlucky to have contact in any way before your wedding.’
‘I thought it was only if we came face to face. Come on, Mother-in-law to be, just let me have a word.’
‘You’re not thinking of jilting her, are you?’
He held the phone away from his face, grinning widely now. Fancy Ma Allison making a joke. His laugh was high as he said, ‘That’s what I want to tell her. Come on, let me have a word with her.’
‘It isn’t right; it’s unlucky.’
‘Nothing’s unlucky today.’
There was a pause
. He heard the murmur of distant voices, then there she was.
‘Oh, Don, anything wrong?’
‘Not a thing in the world, darling. I…I just wanted to know how you felt?’
‘Oh, terrified, shaking, longing. Oh, Don, I can’t believe we’re nearly there.’ Her voice was low now.
‘Another hour and I’ll see you coming down the aisle.’
‘I love you. I love you very much.’
‘I don’t only love you, I adore you.’
‘Eeh! You’ll have to go to confession.’ There was a tinkle of laughter at the other end. ‘False idols.’
‘Oh, yes, false idols, but an adorable idol. All right, all right, I’ll let you go. Goodbye, my love. No, not goodbye; au revoir.’
He put the phone down and stood for a moment staring ahead. The next hour was going to be the longest in his life. It would be the longest in both their lives.
Four
The Nuptial Mass was over. They were married. They were one. The hour that had seemed to have been an eternity was finally at an end. They had taken Communion. They had listened to Father Ramshaw’s kindly words. The choir had burst its lungs in song; the young boy soprano had trilled so sweetly he had brought tears to many eyes. And they had just signed their names in the register: Annette Allison had become Annette Coulson. They had looked at each other and the relief on their faces could have been painful to a keen observer. But everything was bustle.
The organ was soaring as they left the vestry and walked towards the two front rows of pews. Annette’s mother was crying openly, but Winifred Coulson’s eyes were dry and her plump face was pasty white, and it appeared that Daniel had to press her forward into and up the aisle and then to mingle with the crowding guests outside the church.
The photographer soon seemed to take control, endeavouring to line up the bride and bridegroom, with the close relations on either side; the best man Joe, and the two bridesmaids, Annette’s school friends Jessica Bowbent and Irene Shilton, both hanging on to Joe’s arms while they giggled and each hoping secretly that one day she would be standing there with Joe as today Annette was standing with Don.
The Year of the Virgins Page 5