The Round Tower Read online

  ‘But why didn’t she…?’ Her voice trailed off and she ended lamely, ‘Oh yes. Oh yes, the company.’

  He nodded at her slowly and repeated, ‘Yes, the company.’

  ‘But if she had asked Mother, I’m sure it could have been arranged.’

  He stared at her. He didn’t say she did ask Mother, but that Mother said it would be very inconvenient, and wouldn’t it be simpler for Rosie to attend the funeral? No, Rosie was just a lass and, what was more, she couldn’t abide funerals. Then it must be arranged that Angus should have the day off; she would see the master. And she had seen the master, and here he was.

  His silence and his intent look implied the facts of the case to Vanessa and she thought, ‘Oh, Mother!’ Then merely for something to say she said naively, ‘But how are they managing in your shop without you?’

  His bellow of a laugh could have been heard above the noise of the train and he wiped his eyes and said, ‘You know, it’s funny but I’ve never been able to make out how the firm managed to carry on afore I got into the shop. An’ you know something else?’ He now leant forward and rested his elbows on his knees and brought his face level with hers. ‘I bet there’s twice as much work done in that shop that day, because, you see, I’ve got a friend, oh, a very dear friend.’ He stretched his upper lip well over his teeth and pulled a face before he continued, ‘One, Jim Taggart. He likes me so much that he’ll get his blokes to work twice as hard when I’m out of the way and he’ll say to me the morrow, “What do you think of that, Angus? We didn’t slack, eh?” but what he’s really sayin’ is, “I can get twice as much work out of the…out of them than you, boy.”’

  ‘He sounds a horrible individual.’

  ‘He’s not really, he’s just ambitious; it’s funny what ambition can do to you. It made me hate his guts; it’s also made me take up evening classes just to show him that I’m goin’ places.’

  ‘You’re going to evening classes, Angus?’

  ‘Yes, the Tech. You know; I met you outside.’

  ‘Oh, I thought you were just passing, I didn’t realise.’

  The eyes looking into his were full of interest; her smile was sweet. She was slim and long and beautiful. He gazed at her. Who would have thought she would have grown into this? And there was more to come. She would be a stunner in a few years’ time. She could get anybody…anybody. By, she looked lovely. And she was lovely, because besides everything else she had a nice nature. As his mother always said, she’d been nice right from a bairn. And to think that he once used to put his arms around her and hump her up onto his bike or lift her into the barrow. She would have forgotten all that but he never would. If he had been brought up differently perhaps he would have had a girl like her, beautiful and untouched. Aye, she looked untouched, not like the paw-patterned misses that got in the club and thereabouts. Not like May…funny about May. He had thought he loved her until the other night she had told him she had been with two other blokes. She felt she had to tell him, she said, because she loved him. He had been with her himself more times than he could remember, but he had intended to marry her, so it was different. But from then he just couldn’t. He had scudded away like a frightened rabbit; or a better description in his case, with his bulk, would be like a shying buffalo. He knew his attitude was unreasonable, oh aye, he knew that, but it was different for a man. A fellow had to have it; it was as necessary as a morning cuppa, or the evening pint; but with a lass…well, it was different. Oh yes, he had worked that out an’ all. If they all preserved their virginity it would be pretty hard on the males in general. But there would always be lasses who wanted it and no responsibility, no marriage ties, they wanted it for the cash they could get out of it…Yet May hadn’t wanted cash. Give May her due, the only thing May had wanted was him. He felt bad about May, but there it was. He had this kink in him, and he couldn’t do anything about it. If and when he married he’d like to make sure he was the first buyer at that particular stall, but as things went the day she’d have to be pretty young or so bloody ugly that nobody would have wanted to try their luck. He laughed inwardly, and it brought a quirk to his lips, and Vanessa asked, ‘What’s tickling you, Angus?’

  ‘Oh!’ he straightened up. ‘I was just thinking about something.’ He leant back against the seat. ‘What are you going to do when you leave school?’

  She, too, leant her head back against the seat then she turned it towards the window and looked out onto a stretch of green countryside that lay between the towns as she said musingly, ‘I don’t know. Sometimes I think one thing, and then another, I just don’t know.’

  ‘What do your people want you to be?’

  ‘Oh.’ She was looking at him again, her face stretched, her brown eyes wide, the thick lashes on her lower lids forming dark circles on her high cheekbones. ‘A duchess. A countess. Queen of the Outer Isles.’

  They were laughing together and he brought his head forward as he said, ‘You’ve got them weighed up, Vanessa.’

  Her face suddenly became straight. Yes, she had her people weighed up, but she knew it wasn’t right to discuss them with Angus Cotton, nor have him laugh at them. With Brett, yes, but not Angus for, after all, his mother was their daily.

  Oh lord! Lord, stop it! It was as if she was being reprimanded by an elder self. You’re talking like Susan. He’s right, I’ve got them weighed up; he’s got them weighed up; and Emily’s got them weighed up. They know as much about us as we do ourselves, more, in fact, being lookers-on. She was fond of Emily, very fond of her, and not in the way her mother was either. Her mother kept saying, ‘What would I do without Emily?’ but she wasn’t thinking of Emily, she was thinking of herself and the difficulty in getting staff. Emily was a common woman; she talked common and she acted common yet there was something lovable about her. She was the only one who had cuddled her. She used to do it on the quiet in the kitchen. She could never remember her mother cuddling her. Angus was like his mother. He, too, was what you would call common; but he was nice for all that. There was something about Angus that she liked. It was odd when she came to think about it but there were only two men with whom she could really talk without stopping to think of every word she said. Angus was one, and Brett the other. They seemed alike in some way. Yet they were as far apart as the poles; Brett with his soft, cultured way of speaking, against Angus with his hard, thick, North-country intonation and his appalling lack of grammar.

  She said seriously now, ‘Emily’s feet are badly swollen.’

  ‘Aye, yes; I’ve noticed that.’ His tone matched his cynical look.

  ‘She should rest more. I mean when she gets home.’

  He stared at her for a full minute before saying quickly, ‘She’s got a house to look after besides yours, you know. She’s got me coming in at night, tearing hungry, and Rosie. She needs to eat an’ all.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I really am, Angus. I didn’t think.’

  ‘It’s all right, oh, it’s all right. But I know you’re right, she should rest. I might as well tell you, I’ve been at her to leave your place for a long time now.’

  Her hand went instinctively to her lips and her face showed dismay. ‘No, Angus! Oh, the house wouldn’t be the same without her. As for Mother, well, she’d go round the bend. The people we’ve had over the last three years, part-time dailies, au-pairs, gentlewomen,’ she poked her face towards him on the last title, ‘the lot. But whoever came or went, Emily was there. I think Mother would really go potty if Emily left. And she knows it’s hard on her, Angus; and she does try to get help for her. She’s even offered them factory wages, but they just won’t do housework.’

  ‘Can you blame them?’ The question was soft.

  ‘What? Oh! Well, I suppose not.’

  ‘Have you ever done housework?’

  ‘I do my own room at times.’

  He stared at her again without speaking, then laughed gently as he said, ‘And why should you do housework or do your own room when you’re going to be a duc
hess, or a countess, or Queen of the Outer Isles?’

  ‘Oh, Angus, you’re making fun of me.’

  ‘No, I’m not. No, honest, ’cos I could see you carryin’ any of those positions off right to the tee.’

  ‘I couldn’t, Angus. Susan could, but not me. And I would get bored.’

  ‘Bored? Not you. Wait till you get going and you’ll enjoy yourself, you’ll be belle of the ball, top of the pops, the lot.’

  Her face was bright with laughter again. ‘You’re very comforting, Angus. You know, you always were. I’m so glad I ran into you. I was feeling down in the dumps, and this,’ she pointed to the offending tooth, ‘this has been giving me gyp for days. Look, we’re running in. Hasn’t the time flown?’

  He stood up. ‘Yes, that’s the quickest half-hour I’ve known for a long while. I wish the time went like that at work.’

  They went into the corridor and walked to the end of the coach, and when the train stopped he got out and gallantly helped her down the high step onto the platform. As they went through the barrier together a young man standing among a group waiting to get on to the platform said, ‘Hello there, Vanessa.’

  She turned her head and answered on a high note, ‘Oh, hello there, Colin. You going into town?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve just been.’

  He nodded at her, then looked to the side where stood Angus Cotton; then he nodded again. ‘Goodbye,’ he said.

  ‘Goodbye, Colin. Be seeing you.’

  ‘That was Colin Brett.’ She looked at Angus as they went out into the station yard and he said, ‘Aye, I know.’

  ‘Oh!’ Her voice was hesitant now. ‘I thought perhaps you mightn’t know him; he doesn’t work in the yard, he’s an accountant in Forrester’s.’

  Oh, aye, an accountant in Forrester’s, was he? By the look he had given him you’d think he was God Almighty in paradise. He knew Colin Brett all right; they were both of the same age. He had played with him once or twice when he had gone up to the house, but Colin Brett wasn’t the kind who would remember that. Oh no, he was an accountant in Forrester’s. He’d likely be a member of the Conservative Club and the Golf Club. Had he been a member of the Rugby Club he would have spoken to him in the dressing room, he would have drunk with him in the pub afterwards, but he would hardly have recognised him in the street, particularly if he was with any of his womenfolk. Oh, aye, they were living in an age of social equality. Social equality, his backside!

  ‘I’m gettin’ the bus here,’ he said abruptly. ‘Been nice seein’ you.’

  ‘It was nice seeing you, Angus. I’ll tell Emily I came down with you.’

  ‘Do.’ He nodded at her, then turned on his heel and crossed the road to the bus station; and she walked some distance behind him wondering at his sudden change of manner. She had to get the bus, too, not the same one as he was getting but the one next to it; he could have walked across the road with her, he had walked out of the station with her. But all of a sudden he had looked grim and bad-tempered, like Emily did when something upset her. Had she upset him? Had she said anything? Oh, bust and botheration. That was people. Everybody seemed at sixes and sevens lately.

  When she boarded her bus she saw him standing on the pavement opposite his; he was talking to a girl. She was of medium height and a blonde. Her skirt was well above her knees; she was wearing a short, hairy coat like imitation fur. She looked common.

  As she took her seat in the bus she did not retract her use of the word this time for the girl did look common, cheap. Well, she supposed that was the kind of girl Angus would go for. Men usually went for blondes, they said, some time or other.

  As the bus turned out of the square it came to her with a kind of shock that Angus was a man. He was no longer a youth or a young fellow, he was a man. A big, virile, rough, coarse man, yet she had chatted to him in the train as if there was no difference between them with regard to age. Somehow she didn’t think she’d ever chat to him again like that.

  The house was quiet when she entered, it seemed empty. She looked into the lounge but no-one was there. In the dining room the table was set for dinner. There were eight places. This was the second time the Braintrees had been here within the last three weeks. The table looked nice, all gold and silver, the gold being the daffodil heads her mother had arranged in a flowing line down the centre of the table. She used to cringe when, as a child, she saw her mother wiring the heads for a flower display. Her mother was very clever at arranging flowers.

  When she went into the kitchen Emily was at the stove. ‘Oh, hello there. You back? Did it hurt?’ she said.

  ‘No, not at all. Well, he didn’t do much. I’ve got to go again next week. By the way, guess who I came home with on the train?’

  ‘The Lord Mayor.’ Emily closed the oven door and added, ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Emily, if there’s any going…Where’s Mother?’ Her voice had dropped on the question and Emily answered as quietly, ‘Upstairs, having a nap afore the fray. She’s jiggered.’

  As Emily took down two cups and saucers from the cupboard Vanessa looked at the back of her legs. There was no shape in them; her ankles were the same width as her broad calves.

  ‘What are you looking at? Oh, me feet? Oh, they’re giving me gyp the day; I feel they’re going to bust any minute.’ She put the cups and saucers on the table. ‘I’m gonna put them in some epsom salts as soon as I get home.’

  ‘After you’ve made the dinner for Angus and Rosie?’

  ‘What’s that you say?’ Emily held her head to one side and screwed up her eyes.

  ‘I came back in the train with Angus.’

  ‘Aw, you did, did you?’ Emily now took the kettle from the Aga plate and mashed the tea. ‘And he told you that I’m a poor soul who has to go home and cook for the family, eh?’

  ‘No, no, he didn’t, not like that, but he said he’d been trying to get you to leave us.’

  ‘Oh, that! You don’t want to listen to him. And look, Miss Van.’ She turned quickly. ‘Don’t you go scaring your ma. Well, what I mean is the missis has got enough on her plate without worrying about being left high and dry. By the way—’ She leant against the rail of the stove and a smile spread over her broad, flat face. ‘That one that came for interview this mornin’, she took one look at the place and skited out of the gate as if we had turned a hose on her.’

  ‘She wouldn’t even give it a try?’

  ‘Give it a try? You should have heard what she said. An’ what she wanted. Double time for waiting on dinner at night. I said to the missis she should have asked her if she thought this was a factory. I tell you, they don’t want work, Miss Van; they won’t work the day.’

  As Emily again turned to the stove and lifted the teapot Vanessa once more let her gaze drop to the feet encased in a pair of old leather slippers that had once belonged to her father. Her father had big feet, he took size ten, yet the slippers, stretched as they were, were still too small for Emily’s feet.

  ‘You should put your feet up in the afternoon, Emily. You know, Mother told you to.’

  ‘Well, I’ve had them up. I’ve just got off me…I just got out of the chair a minute or so afore you got in. I haven’t done a hand’s turn since half past two.’

  ‘What’s happening tonight?’

  Emily handed Vanessa a cup of tea, then said, ‘Oh, I’m slipping home for an hour, then coming back.’

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if Angus doesn’t let you.’

  Emily now turned fully about and surveyed the only member of this household for whom she had any liking, and she said tersely, ‘Since when did Angus Cotton tell me what and what not to do? It’s all arranged. Miss Susan’s dropping me off in the car at half-past five and picking me up an hour later, and let Angus have anything to say on the matter and he’ll get a mouth…I’ll tell him somethin’ that he won’t forget in a hurry. Because he can boss the men under him at the works it doesn’t say he can do the same at ho
me. An’ I’ve told him.’ She jerked her head. The statement carried pride that her son was in the position to boss men, and this fact was not lost on Vanessa.

  ‘Have a piece of cake?’ Emily asked the question with a conspiratorial air. ‘Walnut cream sponge.’

  ‘Oh, yes, Emily, please.’

  Emily went to the pantry and returned with a large shive of cake and, placing it before Vanessa, said, ‘Get it down you in case we should have visitors.’

  It was a rule that ‘the children’ weren’t to eat in the kitchen, and Emily had always seen that Susan complied with it and also Master Ray. Oh yes, she kept firmly to the order where that young demon was concerned. She spoke of Ray now, saying, ‘Oh, by the way, we had some high jinks here just afore lunch. His nibs climbed the spout and got stuck on the roof near the garret. How, in the name of God, he got up there nobody knows. He got up but he couldn’t come down.’ Her body began to shake with laughter now.

  ‘What happened?’ Vanessa, too, was laughing quietly.

  ‘They had to phone the works for extra ladders.’

  ‘No! Never.’

  ‘It’s the truth I’m tellin’ you. They brought a lorry and two blokes, and one of them went up and got him. Oh, you should have heard the master.’

  ‘Where’s Ray now?’

  ‘In his room…It’ll be nice when the holidays are over, peaceful like. Thank God for schools, I say.’

  Vanessa was laughing openly with her hand over her mouth to still the sound; then rising and taking the plate to the sink, she said, ‘Thanks, Emily; that was lovely.’

  ‘Leave those, I’ll see to them.’

  ‘No, no, I’ll rinse them.’

  ‘Leave them and go on your way. Go on.’

  Vanessa rinsed the plate and cup and saucer under the hot tap; then turning and bowing her head stiffly towards Emily, she said, ‘There.’ It was as if she had assisted her with some major household task, and the look on Emily’s face seemed to bear this out as she said, ‘You always were stubborn, Miss Van. But get along with you; you don’t want your mother to come down and find you here. Go on now.’