Thank God he had stopped talking. She couldn’t stand it. She liked him. She loved him. She looked at him. If only he would fuck her, and not talk. She was ashamed at such a thought, and felt herself flushing in a torment of self-reproach. Every day he was different. She didn’t know him. Then she looked, and for a few moments knew him better than she knew herself, which made her despise herself, then feel sorry for herself, then love herself more than she ever had, then wonder who she was and where she was, till she finally grew calm in the exhaustion which followed, then held his hands and pressed them, and looked at him for minutes that seemed like years, while she fought back tears whose significance she did not want to know.
‘When I came up the stairs a few weeks ago and saw the danger you were in from your husband and his brothers,’ he said, ‘I felt that the Angel of Death was close. I reverted immediately to the raging bull, and would have killed to get you free. But I felt the Angel of Death pass over us, and was able to do what I could which, thank God, turned out to be sufficient. Both of us were blessed at that moment, by being released. When we came down here, I knew that we had left our troubles and started our wanderings together.’
‘We haven’t come far, my darling.’
He poured more wine. ‘We’ll leave the country soon.’
‘I’ll be seasick!’
‘Haven’t you ever been on a ship?’
‘When I went to Spain, I flew.’
‘With me you’ll go by boat.’
She sat stiffly. ‘And if I want to go by air?’
‘Don’t you want a new experience?’ he laughed.
‘Depends where we go.’
‘Where do you want to go?’
‘I can’t think of tomorrow, let alone next week, or next month. Do you mind?’
‘We’ll stay a bit longer, then.’ He lifted his glass: ‘To those beautiful blue and oblique eyes of a queen! – and to all else about you.’
She sipped, then had an impulse to embrace him, but didn’t. She held back, not knowing why. For no reason – not wanting to make things too easy for him, but most of all not easy for herself. Everything was wonderful, but it didn’t seem right. She was happy, yet felt oppressed. The weight was impossible to bear. She felt as if she belonged to the world, and was no longer afraid, but the very idea of fearlessness frightened her. She wanted to go to bed, yet wanted to walk in the streets with him. She wanted to go to Nottingham and sort things out with George before coming back here for good. She wanted to do nothing but what she was doing, which was rushing to his arms and kissing him with a passion that burned them both.
He pushed the headscarf back, and moved from her lips to kiss the damp skin and hair that had been covered by the headscarf since before dusk.
13
The sea rose like a hillside when she looked back. Bitter cold had teeth, wind trying to eat the empty streets, so the parking space at the station was empty. They had bought a car. Choose a colour, he said. She nodded at white, a serviceable estate model for five thousand pounds. We’ll go a long way, as long as there’s petrol. She was almost afraid to step into it, wanted to put newspaper down for when there was rain.
A door banged open against the carriage before the train had properly stopped. Sam jumped on to the platform. Hilary was not so daring. A satchel roped to her back, she had the replica machine-gun which nearly pulled her arms to the concrete, as if she had to pick up a golden coin before running to the barrier. A dark young man flinched, and walked quickly away from her. The ticket collector patted her head and advised her to wait for her ma, but she told him to leave her alone or she would phone the police, then pushed through and went skipping towards the newspaper stall. He shouted: ‘Hey, where’s your ticket?’ He asked Judy as she went through: ‘Are them kids yours?’
She shivered after the heat of the train, and showed him a ticket. ‘They’re bloody not. They’ve been terrorizing everybody all the way down. They should be done away with, the little bastards.’ She pointed to an elderly woman in furs coming along the platform, a chauffeur carrying her luggage. ‘I expect they belong to her.’
‘I’m glad you were able to come,’ Tom said.
‘I’d have taken any chance of a trip to Brighton.’ She looked full of cares, but her eyes smouldered with haughtiness and resentment. A mischievousness about the shape of her mouth set her apart, and might warn anyone to keep out of her way. She wore slacks, and a three-quarter coat. Pam thought she looked more mannish than when they had last met. ‘I don’t see why I should pay anything for those two little drag-bags. They’re going to enjoy it too much to have their fares paid as well. They ran in at Victoria, and ran out here. If a collector gets on the train going back, they can jump off and thumb a ride home. Got to learn what life’s all about. When it happened before, they came home in a police car. They’d been given tea and cakes, a mouth-organ and a doll. I clouted them as they came in the door, and told them not to get lost again – even though it had taken some initiative. I nearly died of worry, I said. I’m not sure whether the copper was convinced, but for the next few days they were threatening to leave me and go and live at the police station.’ She turned, shouting in a voice which, Pam thought, must have carried for miles: ‘Come back here, or I’ll tear your goldens off!’
There was a car to get into, so they rounded themselves up without trouble. ‘Listen to the seagulls.’ Sam snatched at his sister’s machine-gun which was pointed at their noise. ‘Don’t shoot ’em!’
‘We’ll go to the flat first,’ Tom said. ‘Not much opens till midday.’
The children settled in the back with Judy. ‘I want to see the sea,’ Hilary called.
‘It won’t run away,’ Tom said, ‘not very far, that is.’
Sam leaned forward, and said into his ear: ‘You mean that the tide’ll be out. How far does it go?’
‘We’ll look at a book of tables that tells you all about it.’
‘I want to be a sailor,’ Hilary said. ‘Will you take me on a ship, Tom? I want to go to Australia on a ship with sails.’
He laughed. ‘They have engines now.’
‘With an engine, then.’
‘Women don’t go on ships,’ Judy said. ‘Unless you whore yourself out to the captain, or work on a liner as a skivvy.’
‘You’ll get sea-sick,’ Sam jeered.
She screamed into his face: ‘Yah, yah, yah – and I’ll spew all over you!’ She unclipped the magazine, and ammunition thudded on to the floor. Her legs in the air were reflected in Tom’s rear mirror, shaking around while she found the bullets. Then she came up, fitted them in, and levelled the gun at a car behind. ‘I don’t want to whore. I’ll dress up as a man. I’ll borrow your trousers, mum.’
‘Maybe by the time you grow up it’ll be different.’ Tom was encouraging. ‘A woman could do any job on a ship if she was trained.’
It amused him to imagine a crew of women and men, and said so.
‘I expect there’d only be as much fucking around as there is with an all-man crew,’ Judy laughed.
‘Less,’ Sam said, looking at the seafront.
Hilary lowered her gun. ‘More, I’d say.’
‘What do you little mistakes know about it?’ Judy asked.
‘You haven’t lived,’ Sam told her solemnly. ‘I go to school, don’t forget.’
‘You’ll go to a fucking orphanage if you don’t shut your fat little trap. I didn’t come down here to bicker with kids on the facts of life. Just look at the wind and listen to the sand, then you might learn something.’
The boy groaned. Hilary laughed, but they sat quietly. Tom winced with disapproval at her swearing. She would make a rough sort of captain, he thought, and no doubt keep any crew in order.
Hilary ran up the stairs with the gun, inspired by the liberty of being able to enter an unfamiliar building. Sam followed, and it seemed to the adults coming behind as if they were a storming party to get terrorists out. ‘They eat too well, and too often,’ Judy said
when milky coffee and a plate of cakes were set before them. ‘The town won’t be safe today.’
The dining-room table had five places laid. Yesterday had been for shopping, and today getting the meal ready. A soup was to begin, and a trifle to end. Tom peeled potatoes before breakfast, scrubbed carrots, cut cauliflower, and washed for three different salads. A piece of beef was on a low light. He bought cakes, bread, chocolates and half a dozen cheeses, enough to feed twice as many. The larder and refrigerator were stocked as if they were on a ship about to steam across the world, or as if a catastrophe would force a long siege on them.
He wondered how long it had been since the noise of such mayhem had bounced from wall to wall. They leapfrogged up the corridor and down again, and chased each other in and out of the kitchen. Probably never. There had been no children here except himself as a boy on parole from the orphanage, and his voice had never been audible from more than a few feet. He had a vision of himself as a trapped insect, afraid even to jump. Shameless. He rubbed it away.
Judy sipped black coffee. ‘I hate the sight of ’em, though I wouldn’t be without ’em. You might not believe it, but they’re doing well at school, after I gave ’em a good talking to. “If you want to beat the system,” I told them, “pass your tests and exams better than anybody else. Do it for me. Learn all you can. If you don’t work for me, I won’t work for you. You’ll have to live on bread and water then”.’
She expected to be complimented on her determination and sagacity. ‘You’re a good mother,’ Pam said.
‘Not really, love. I’m only their guardian till they’re big enough to fend for themselves. Then, it’s out into the snow – the deeper the better.’
Tom thought they were lucky. Judy knew that life was a battle, and was teaching them to fight in a world which, contrary to what everyone thought, got harder and rougher. But everything had its price, and the contest seemed to be wearing her out. He only hoped that her philosophy of living off the land didn’t encourage such bright children to go too far, and get into trouble with the police.
He led her and Pam into the main bedroom, and showed them the wardrobe of Clara’s clothes. Judy stood back at the heavy taint of mothballs, then went forward and ran her hand along the dresses. ‘They look gorgeous.’
‘She was about your size, in her heyday,’ Tom said, ‘so help yourself.’
‘You mean it?’
He nodded.
Hilary pushed through: could she have a skirt and a blouse? Judy held her. ‘Maybe I’ll get a stall, and sell them on the market.’
He had intended throwing them out, he said. ‘But if you can make some money on them – fine.’
Judy looked at Pam with an expression hard to fathom, a smile that was an invitation. To what, Pam didn’t know – unless it was simply to be without the kids for half an hour, a desire she could well understand. ‘Why don’t you take the children to the beach?’ she said to Tom. ‘Then Judy can try one or two dresses on. I’ll stay with her.’
He got his overcoat, scarf and hat. Why not? Get the kids off their hands. And took up his binoculars. ‘I’ll do my best not to get them drowned, or run over, hauled off to the clink, or otherwise missing presumed glutted on ice-cream.’
‘Not as easy as you might hope,’ their mother called.
A wind blew, cold and sharp, and Hilary played at being thrown back inside the door, till Tom and Sam were half-way down the square, and then she followed. Sam went in front, sliding himself by parked cars, using the handle of each door to draw himself along, but putting on a pressure to find out whether or not the doors were locked. He would not, Tom felt, go inside and take anything at the moment. It seemed more like a practice run for when he was on his own. He called: ‘Come here!’
Sam turned, pale and scared. ‘You mean me?’
‘And quickly. Run!’
He walked towards him, upright but as if expecting to dodge a punch.
‘Listen to me,’ Tom said. ‘And stand still! While you’re out with me, I don’t want to see you trying to open car doors. Do you understand? If I catch you at it again I’ll knock your head off, and then hand you over to the police station. And what’s more, I don’t want you to do it even when you’re not with me, because sure as hell somebody else will haul you off. Do you hear?’
‘Yes.’
‘Never, at any time. Not only will you be for it, but your mother will get it in the neck as well. And you don’t really want to hurt her, do you?’ Damn, the poor kid was about to cry. But he had to put the fear of God into him. It’s not his fault, because he sees his irresponsible mother getting up to stunts that can only land them in trouble. When they go back tonight I’ll put them on the train with tickets, to show it must be done. He held his arm, and spoke quietly. ‘We’re going to look at a ship, and if it’s ten miles away these binoculars will bring it down to a mile. Do you want to try?’
He nodded.
‘We’ll have a good time. But don’t forget what I told you.’
‘All right,’ he said.
‘I take that as a promise. Do you understand?’
‘Yes. OK.’
He tapped his binocular case. ‘Carry them for me.’
Hilary held his hand.
‘You can take turns looking at ships or birds,’ Tom said, ‘and I’ll tell you about ’em.’
‘I want first go,’ Hilary said.
‘We’ll cross the road before getting them out, then spin heads-and-tails for it.’
‘She can have them,’ Sam said.
‘The coin decides,’ said Tom.
They waited for cars to pass, then he let them go, over the grass to the railing. There was a blue hole in the clouds, with towering cumulus close out on the Channel. Ships were outlined: tankers, ocean freighters with enormous white superstructures so that Sam wanted to know what those buildings were, and a few coasters which seemed almost to disappear in the swell. Tom looped the binocular strap around Hilary’s neck, and told her to look. Visibility was good, but rain would soon hit the seafront.
14
Pam sat on the edge of the bed. Clothes were spread over the floor, draped on chairbacks and stacked on the dressing-table. Judy laid aside the last twenties-style suit: ‘I’ll start a new fashion in West Eleven if I get this lot on the barrows. Wouldn’t mind wearing a few myself.’
Pam hoped she would try some of them on. She’d be sure to look marvellous in such clothes. There were shoes and handbags to complete the picture of a new woman.
Judy took out silk blouses with pearl buttons, elaborate garments with lace cuffs and collars attached. ‘I wish the rich hadn’t loved mothballs so much, though.’
She pulled off her sweater, and unbuttoned her shirt. ‘They’ll fit you, as well. You’re nearly as tall as I am.’ Her breasts were oval-shaped, well-fleshed and only slightly hanging, nipples facing upwards rather than out. She smiled at Pam looking at her without knowing she was staring so intently. ‘I had a bath last night so it’s all right, as long as you can stand the carbolic smell of a woman who doesn’t bother with men!’
Dark hair showed at the crotch of her flimsy red knickers. She took them off, and rummaged in a drawer for underwear, holding up camisoles and stockings. ‘What delights! Come on, you change as well.’
Pam wished she had taken her clothes off earlier, because Judy had already put drawers on and a slip, a blouse and a long skirt. ‘Don’t worry, love, it’s just that I like seeing another woman. You do too, don’t you? But how do you keep that slim figure? The trouble with me is I eat whatever I can. I feel like the character in that N. F. Simpson play who calls at houses to finish off leftovers because it’s her job. Whenever I’m offered anything on my charring round I never say no. I eat when the kids come home from school. Then again when they’re in bed, and at breakfast with them in the morning. I never stop.’ She opened a cupboard and inspected more drawers. ‘Here you are, get this lovely underwear. It makes me feel sexy. See what it does for you. I feel lik
e a schoolgirl just wondering how to … I suppose not having kids around helps.’
Pam saw her mistake, if such it was, which had led her into becoming trapped at a game she didn’t want to play; but it had been her own idea and there was no getting out of it, so she took off the rest of her clothes and searched among the underwear. Embarrassment was stupid. There was nothing to lose with someone as friendly and easygoing as Judy.
‘There are even hairpins in the bowl.’ Judy untied her ponytail and sat at the dressing-table to put up her hair. ‘It’s a treasure-house. I feel as if I’m stealing things.’ She stood to finish buttoning the cuffs of her blouse. She was tall and straight-backed, and would become stout if she didn’t take care. Pam couldn’t stop herself saying: ‘You look beautiful.’
Her figure was verging on full. She had been going to say: elegant, handsome, even dashing in an old-fashioned way. Strange what clothes could do, though she suspected they did little enough for her. She looked in the mirror, and found it amazing how they both resembled women of the period.
‘I’m not bad for nearly forty, am I? You look quite fine yourself, though.’ She lit a cigarette, and passed it to Pam, who hesitated, then told herself not to be so rigid, smiled her thanks, and tasted the damp end when she put it between her lips.
‘Come here,’ Judy said, ‘and I’ll finish fastening your buttons for you.’
She smoked, then gave it back. ‘It’s nice to play at dressingup.’
‘We’ll give the others a surprise.’
Pam held out her arms. ‘I wish I had hair as long as yours, that’s the only thing.’
Judy laughed. ‘You can have it, if you give me your figure.’
‘Your figure’s …’ She was going to say ‘lovely’.
‘Don’t go on.’ She grimaced, and Pam didn’t know what she had expected. ‘Do you love him?’
‘Who?’
‘Your ex-sailor man,’ Judy said.