The Thursday Friend Page 6

There fell on them a silence, until he said, ‘Well, I can get you a taxi.’

  ‘Oh, would you? Oh, please do!’

  ‘There’ll be one at the far side of the square.’ His tone rather flat, he enquired, ‘Have you enjoyed yourself?’

  ‘Enjoyed myself?’ She paused in her walk; then, her head shaking, she muttered, ‘You’ll never know how much. It’s been the most wonderful evening. I never knew there were such people. I should have done, though, because my brother-in-law is very like your friend Micky.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Oh yes. Very much so, he’s in the fruit business. I . . . I must tell you about him some time.’ She put her hand to her mouth now, saying, ‘Oh! that sounds . . . well, a bit forward; but . . . but you know what I mean.’

  ‘No, I don’t really, but I want to. I suppose you’re very busy at the weekends? I mean, you go out and such.’

  ‘No. No. My husband goes to see his aunt and uncle – who are really his adoptive parents – in Worthing, that way.’ She pointed, as if he could see Worthing from where they were.

  ‘Well, what d’you do with yourself?’

  ‘Oh. Oh, I scribble.’ She smiled weakly. ‘I walk, I go to the pictures; but on a Sunday I have lunch with my sister and her . . . husband.’

  ‘Then you’re alone most of the time?’

  ‘Well . . . yes, most of the time.’

  ‘Could we meet on Saturday?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She moved uneasily from one foot to the other.

  ‘Well, if you’ve got nothing else to do and you go to the pictures alone . . . you go alone?’

  ‘Yes. Yes. But I don’t know.’

  ‘I’ll give you a ring; what’s your number?’

  ‘No. No. Please don’t ring.’

  ‘Well, where could we meet?’

  He laughed now as he added, ‘Don’t say under the clock. And it wouldn’t be proper for me to call for you, would it?’

  ‘Oh, no, no!’

  ‘Well, what about meeting at Micky’s again? You know the way now: you could get the tube straight to Camden Town from your place and then . . . Look! here’s a taxi. You’ll do that?’

  ‘No. Yes. I mean, I’ll try, but if I don’t turn up, will you understand?’

  ‘I’ll understand.’

  ‘Something might happen, I mean at home.’

  ‘I’ll understand; don’t worry. About one o’clock on Saturday, then?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, all right. And thank you’ – she was looking up into his face – ‘thank you for a most wonderful evening; in fact, for the most wonderful day I’ve ever spent.’

  He said nothing, but after stopping the taxi he opened the door, and after she had got in and sat down he took her hand and said, ‘It’s I who should thank you for this evening, for the whole day. But we’ll talk about that later. Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  The taxi door was banged shut; then it was away out of sight, leaving him on the kerb staring after it. A wonderful day, she had said; yes, indeed, a wonderful day, a day marking a change in his life.

  ‘Where on earth have you been? You’ve never been as late as this.’ He stared at her, observing the brightness of her eyes, the strange look on her face, her colour: she was flushed.

  ‘I was getting worried,’ he said in a voice that had an edge to it now, and he was surprised when she replied, ‘Did Eddie phone?’

  ‘Eddie? Why should Eddie phone?’

  ‘Well, I mean with us being late.’

  ‘Oh, she went with you, then, after all?’

  Hannah swallowed deeply before answering, ‘Yes. Yes.’ She’d decided to ask if Eddie had phoned because Janie herself might have phoned during the short time he had been back: there were times when she phoned in the evening when she wanted Hannah to go and mind the children the next day.

  ‘But the concert would have been over hours ago.’

  ‘I . . . I know, but . . . we went to a restaurant.’

  ‘Which restaurant?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She walked past him now, pulling off her coat, and she was as amazed as he was at the tone of her voice; but, realising how she had spoken, she turned about and said, ‘Well, you know I don’t know restaurants, but she does. I don’t know the name of it, but we had something to eat.’

  ‘And something to drink, I shouldn’t be surprised, knowing her.’

  ‘Yes, Humphrey’ – she now thrust her head towards him, that strange feeling of courage coming to her aid again – ‘we had something to drink.’

  ‘And not lemonade, by the look of you.’

  ‘No; we had Pimm’s.’

  She watched his face stretch. ‘Pimm’s! You drank Pimm’s? Pimm’s has whisky in it.’

  ‘Yes, some Pimm’s has whisky, some Pimm’s has gin, and some rum.’

  ‘I’d go to bed if I were you; and, in future, I’d better be careful about sending you off to concerts.’

  She had turned on him again; ‘Yes, Humphrey, but perhaps I’ll choose what I do for myself for a change.’

  ‘What’s come over you, Hannah?’ He sounded hurt.

  She suddenly sat down on a hall chair, muttering, ‘Oh, Humphrey, I’m sorry; but it isn’t often I go out to enjoy myself. You know that.’ The next moment she was on her feet again, saying, ‘How long is it since you bothered about me in any way; I mean, to give me any pleasure at all? I sleep by myself. Yes—’ she was nodding her head now, ‘yes, I sleep by myself.’

  ‘Hannah!’ There was a deep reproof in his voice. ‘I thought we had passed over all that amicably.’

  ‘You may have, Humphrey; but you’ve never asked if I have.’

  His fingers now were moving around his throat as if he were trying to rub something off the skin; then he said, ‘There are more things, more important things in marriage, than sex, Hannah.’

  ‘Well, would you mind telling me one of them?’

  She saw that he was aghast, not only at her question but at her whole attitude, for he turned from her now, saying quietly, ‘I would go to bed, Hannah. Tomorrow, when you’re quite sober, because I’m sure you’re far from it now, you’ll regret your attitude, for then you’ll realise, I’m sure, that no husband could have been more caring or considerate of a wife than I have been of you. Goodnight.’

  Hannah sat down again and leant back against the tall head of the hall chair. He was right. Yes, he was right. She must have been mad to go on like she had.

  Good Lord! She hadn’t given him the message from Mrs Beggs. Again she was on her feet, but her voice still sounded angry as she called down the hall, ‘I forgot to give you a message, from Mrs Beggs. She wanted to know if you were going there tomorrow or Saturday.’

  There was a moment’s silence before his door opened and he came back into the hall and went to the telephone. She remained standing where she was until she heard him say, ‘Hello, Beggie. I’m sorry to phone so late, but I’ve just got in.’

  There followed a silence, and then he said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t intending to come on Friday. What a pity! Oh, what a pity! But I’ll be there on Saturday morning . . . No; I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Beggie: I’ll come tomorrow night. I might get there rather late because we usually have a longer session at the office on a Friday; and so I may not see you till nine. But give my love to my dear folk.’ Again silence. ‘Yes. Yes, indeed. Yes, indeed. Thank you. Yes, yes, indeed, and please convey that to her too. Goodnight, Beggie. Goodnight.’

  Hannah did not know why she had remained standing there all that time, but he walked straight past her as if he weren’t aware of her presence.

  In her room she sat on the side of the bed and, her thin hands clasped between her knees, rocked herself backwards and forwards. It had b
een a most marvellous day and a wondrous evening. Oh, yes, a wondrous evening. But look how it had ended. She knew she had hurt Humphrey and that he was thinking her as common as her sister; but did that matter? No, no; it didn’t, for she had met a wonderful man who liked her. Yes, he did. Yes, he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked her to meet him again, almost pleaded with her to meet him once more. And she was going to do that. Yes, she was; she was going to do just that. She’d be there at one o’clock on Saturday, and neither hell nor high water would stop her.

  Oh, dear me! She sprang up from the bed. She was like Janie; at bottom there was nothing to choose between them. How ridiculous to resort to clichés like that! It wasn’t even appropriate to the situation.

  She stopped for a moment in pulling her dress over her head. That’s exactly what Humphrey would have said: it’s not even appropriate to the situation. Oh, Humphrey. Humphrey. If only he were different. A little like the other . . . just a little like somebody other than himself. Yet that self was so good: he’d been right in what he’d said a while ago about his kindness to her, and she must never pay him back by hurting him.

  As she was stepping into her nightdress, the voice almost thrust her round and threw her into the bed as it cried at her, No! Humphrey mustn’t be hurt; Humphrey must be considered. But, then, has he considered you every weekend, every single weekend for the last year? He had left her alone in order to visit his benefactors, his dear benefactors. Oh, she could have gone with him, yes. At least in the beginning. But had she continued, everyone would have felt discomfited. Very early in their acquaintance, she knew that her blondness had stamped her in their eyes as a flighty piece, even immoral, at the least a snatcher of innocent men like their dear Humphrey.

  Tomorrow she’d go to see Janie again. She would tell her everything and see what she thought. She knew that there was a possibility her sister might not see eye to eye with her, at least about her proposed clandestine meetings with another man, because Janie still retained some of the moral values instilled at the convent: in her words, she had never had any hanky-panky with Eddie before they were married. On that famous day in the dining room, when she had said she was going to live with him, she did not really intend to share his bed until they were married, which they were a week later, at a registry office.

  Hannah lay for quite a while staring up at the ceiling through the pink-shaded glow of the table lamp. Something had happened today; her life would never be the same after this.

  Chapter Three

  It was about two o’clock when she reached Janie’s. The house seemed very quiet. There was no-one in the kitchen and when she opened the sitting room door she saw Eddie lying on the couch and to the side of it Janie, sitting in the big chair, reading a magazine.

  On seeing her, Janie jumped to her feet, saying, ‘Oh! hello. You got here, then? You all right? You sounded odd on the phone.’

  Hannah did not answer but looked towards the couch, asking, ‘Eddie’s bad?’

  ‘Oh, very bad. Very bad; ready for his box. He had a tooth out this morning, poor bugger; and there’s nobody had a tooth out before.’

  Hannah looked at Eddie and was concerned by the sight of his face – one side was swollen to twice its usual size – and she said, ‘Oh! Eddie; that’s been a job. Was it a wisdom tooth?’

  Before he could make a reply, his wife said, ‘Couldn’t be that with him, Hannah. Stupid question to ask.’

  Her husband, rising to a sitting position on the couch, muttered, ‘One of these days, me girl, I’ll take pleasure in knocking yours out one by one. I’ve promised you before, mind.’

  ‘Yes, dear, yes’; then, smiling, Janie turned to Hannah, saying, ‘Want a cup of tea?’

  ‘I don’t mind; but, oh dear!’ She was again looking at her brother-in-law and she asked, ‘Was it just the one?’

  ‘Aye, Hannah, just the one, and more than enough, I can tell you. There was an abscess underneath or something. I’ve gone through hell the last fortnight with toothache, but I’d rather have stood another fortnight than go through this morning’s business again. But she would have me there. Oh, yes; she loves torture, that one.’ Then, his tone changing, he asked with deep solicitude, ‘Are you all right, Hannah? I mean, not in trouble or anything?’

  ‘Now what trouble could I get into, Eddie?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know: still waters run deep, and Janie said you told her on the phone you were in a fix about something.’

  ‘Yes, I did; and I am, Eddie. Anyway, I’ll tell you all about it when we have our tea.’

  Changing the subject, she got on to the topic that was nearest his heart: ‘How’s business?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, that couldn’t be better, Hannah; it really couldn’t. I’m thinking about opening another shop in Forum Square.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Oh, yes. I’ve got two good fellows running this one, but that’s only because I’m smart. You know what I’ve done?’

  ‘No, Eddie; what have you done?’

  ‘Well, I shall have done it by the end of the year. I’m giving them a share in the profits. That’s if they play their part: learn how to treat the customer; don’t pass off any suspect fruit; don’t overcharge some old girl who asks them to cut a melon in half because she’s only got her pension; and, the main thing, that they keep their fingers out of the big end of the till.’

  When Hannah laughed and he started to join her, he protested, ‘Oh, Hannah, shut up! It’s agony to open me mouth any further.’

  As Janie entered the room with a tray of tea, Hannah asked, ‘Where are the children?’

  ‘Oh, Maggie’s gone to a party; Winnie’s next door playing with their boy; and the other two will be looking at television, although they’ll both likely be sound asleep by now. It’s funny’ – she laughed – ‘they always fall asleep when they’re left alone to look at the television, don’t they, Eddie?’ He nodded at her, saying, ‘Yeah; it’s funny to see them, sitting on the floor, their heads nearly always stuck together, their backs against the couch.’

  Janie now asked him, ‘D’you think you can manage a cup of tea, Eddie?’

  ‘If you put plenty of milk in it to cool it down.’

  As she listened to this exchange it came to Hannah that they were one at heart, these two, no matter what they said to each other, and again she experienced a feeling of envy.

  Presently Janie, looking at Hannah, said abruptly, ‘Well, no more palavering, out with it! What’s up? Is he going to leave you?’

  ‘Oh, no! No; nothing like that—’ Why, for a moment, had she wished it was?

  She was about to continue when Janie, nodding towards Eddie, put in, ‘He knows how things stand; I told him. So, let’s have it!’

  Hannah did not say, ‘I knew you would,’ but she looked at Eddie and he returned her stare as he said, ‘Bloody morphrodite!’

  Morphrodite? What was a morphrodite? Then in his own way he gave her the explanation as he continued, ‘Neither one bloody thing nor the other. You could get a divorce.’

  ‘Oh! Eddie.’

  ‘Never mind, our Hannah,’ cut in Janie, ‘saying “Oh! Eddie” like that. And you, Eddie, I’m sure morphrodite isn’t the right word. You should look things up in a book before you get clever. Now, now! No more of your wisecracks; let her get on with what she has to tell us.’

  Hannah considered for a moment, then related the events of the previous day.

  A silence followed before Janie said softly, ‘And all of this has happened since you were here yesterday morning?’

  Hannah, head nodding, replied, ‘Yes; I can’t believe it, but all since yesterday morning.’

  It was here that Eddie butted in. ‘Wait a minute! Wait a minute! You mentioned a name, Micky McClean, who owned a restaurant. Are you sure it was Micky McClean?’

  �
��Yes; and he sometimes pretends he’s a Frenchman.’

  ‘My God! That’s him.’ He turned to Janie. ‘Remember! I’ve told you about him, the one who used to take his dad’s suit to the pawn every Monday morning and get it out on a Friday night; and the time that it didn’t come out because his mother had drunk the money. The old man wiped the floor with her and would have murdered her except that Micky hit him on the back of the head with a beer bottle and knocked him out. He thought he’d killed him. Anyway, he landed him in hospital. D’you remember?’

  Janie was laughing now and nodding her head, ‘Yes; yes; I remember you telling me that. Well, well!’ She looked at Hannah now. ‘Don’t you think it’s strange Eddie knowing that fellow?’ she said.

  ‘Yes, yes, I do. But he’s a nice man, I must say, and doing very well in that restaurant.’

  ‘Oh, yes; he certainly is, and coining money. He’s no fool. It must be two years or more since I saw him last. When he first started he used to come to our stall in the market, but now we’re too far out. Good grief! who’d believe it? We ran wild together, Micky and me, when we were lads.’

  ‘You might have,’ put in Janie, ‘but that was years ago; if you meet him now you keep your mouth shut about what you’re going to hear, or what you’ve already heard, understand? Because when men get together your tongues wag quicker than dogs’ tails in season.’

  ‘Well, go on now,’ she continued, turning her attention back to her sister; ‘what was Humphrey’s reception like, when you got back late?’

  ‘Very cool; icy, in fact; and I didn’t thaw it by lying, either, when I told him I’d spent the evening with you. I said you’d taken me to a café to have a bite.’

  ‘My! My! you did? I can see you ending up in hell, together with your new boyfriend. By the way, is he married?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t know? Didn’t you ask him?’ put in Eddie.

  ‘No, of course I didn’t. You don’t ask someone if they’re married as soon as you’ve met them.’