The Moth, page 19
‘What talk? Whose talk? Come on, come on.’ He shook her gently. ‘It would have to be some great talk to make you upset like this.’
‘’Tis nothing, Robert.’ She had called him Robert as had Peggy and Ruthie and Betty since the night when he had straightened things out for them all.
‘Look, has somebody been at you? Greg?’
‘Oh, Greg.’ There was a small smile came through her tears and she said, ‘Greg? Never! Never!’
‘Then who?’
‘’Tis nothing.’
‘Tell me, somebody from outside, somebody got in?’
‘No, no.’
‘Well who then? I’m not budging from here until I know, and if you don’t tell me I’ll go across and get your uncle and aunt and they’ll get it out of you. So you may as well tell me; it might be better in the long run. What’s it all about?’
She hung her head for a moment, then said, ‘I’d been down the garden to Mr Bloom to tell him what we wanted for the morrow in the way of vegetables like and . . . and I was comin’ back by the big hedge and . . . and the young gentlemen were on the other side. They . . . they had been to Newcastle. They had gone by train as you know and likely not knowin’ what time they would be back, they hadn’t ordered the trap for you or Greg to meet it, so they must have come across the fields as a short cut. Anyway, there they were, walkin’ up on yon side of the hedge, and me meself on this side, and they were talkin’—’ her head moved from one side to the other now before she muttered, ‘about their . . . their exploits with . . . with the women in Newcastle. I . . . I didn’t take much notice, tried to shut me ears, yet you know how it is. An’ then Master Arnold said at one time they wouldn’t have had to make the journey, they . . . they could have been—’ again her head moved before she muttered, ‘could have been served in the house, but now there was only Betty . . . and me.’
Her head now sank lower and once again the tears began to stream down her face, and when Robert said, ‘Yes?’ she muttered, ‘Master Roland then said anybody would be hard pushed to take me, even—’ now she had to gulp deep in her throat before she could end, and then on a stammer, ‘w . . . w . . . with their eyes blindfolded.’
Her mouth wide open now and the tears running from her cheeks on to her lower lips, she looked at him. ‘’Tis hurtful, ’tis hurtful, Robert,’ she said. ‘I know I’m no beauty, not even plain, I know all about myself, so I laugh and joke, but I’ve got feelin’s, I’ve got feelin’s like any other lass . . . woman ’cos, ’cos I’m no lass. I thought I’d got over being hurt, cryin’ like, but you never do.’
‘Blast them to hell.’ He put out his arms and pulled her close to him, and she sank her head into his shoulder. Pushing her cap away, he stroked her hair, saying, ‘Don’t cheapen yourself like that, lass. Let me tell you, you’re better than any woman I’ve met, it’s the heart that matters, and . . . and many a man would be glad of you. Come, come on now. Quiet, quiet.’
As he spoke the last word the door was thrust open and there, like the avenging angel, stood his mistress. And what she said was, ‘What, may I ask, are you up to, Mr Bradley?’
As he felt Maggie go to pull herself from his embrace he held her tightly while, looking over her shoulder, he stared through the lantern light at Agnes and replied, ‘I’m up to comfortin’ somebody who needs it, Miss Thorman.’
‘You’re philandering, Bradley, and I won’t have it. I won’t have Maggie annoyed, upset . . . Get back into the house, Maggie.’
Maggie now tore herself from Robert’s embrace and, looking at Agnes, she said, ‘He . . . he was only tryin’ to help me, he was . . . ’
‘Go into the house. Do as you’re bid.’
Maggie did as she was bid and at a run.
Now with one deadly look in Robert’s direction, Agnes was about to follow Maggie when Robert sprang forward and with outstretched arm clashed the door shut.
Agnes startled, pressed her back tight against the door, and Robert’s wrist almost touched her cheekbone as they stood glaring at each other, only, in Agnes’ eyes, there was now a slight touch of fear, which came over in her voice as she demanded, ‘Open the door, Bradley, this minute.’
‘I’ll open it when I’m ready.’ He omitted to add ‘miss’, but went on, ‘It isn’t so long ago, is it, since a man played the dirty on you, and you knew what it was then to cry your eyes out, didn’t you? And you weren’t above accepting a little sympathy . . . from an inferior. Well, I was handing out another little bit of sympathy, but to an equal. Maggie is no child, she’s a woman, and if I want to hold her, I’ll hold her.’
‘You . . . you are a philanderer, Bradley. You don’t mean any good by Maggie. She is not your type of . . . of . . . of woman.’
‘How the hell do you know what my type is, miss?’
‘You forget to whom you are speaking.’
‘No, I don’t forget to who I’m speaking, and I repeat, how do you know what my type is? There’s more worth in Maggie than in you or any of your kind.’
‘Well, I’m . . . I’m glad you recognise it. So now will you please allow me to leave?’
‘I’ll let you leave when I’m ready and when you’ve heard me out and when you hear why Maggie needed comfort.’
Their faces were not more than a foot from each other, their clothes were almost touching, their breaths were mingling as were their angers, and Agnes found difficulty in speaking as she said, ‘For whatever reason you were comforting her, the point is, do you mean well by her? What are your intentions? Do you mean to marry her?’
‘Huh!’ He laughed aloud and it wasn’t without mirth, and the answer he gave her was, ‘You lot amaze me. You know that? You with your codes, your codes for other people, for the underlings, you simply amaze me. You can have your mistresses, your lovers, you can do any damn thing you like in that way, but when it comes to one of what you term the lower class, you begin to moralise. Well, let me answer your question, miss, whether I intend to marry her or not is my business and nobody else’s. But just on the side, let me tell you, if I had to marry every lass I’ve held in me arms I’d have a harem by now. But that’s light talk, what I aim to tell you is why Maggie was crying. Maggie, whose one aim in life is to laugh and make other people laugh, she was crying because she was hurt, and who had hurt her? Well, listen, miss, listen. ’Twas your brothers.’
He watched her whole face stretch, her eyes widen, her lips fall apart, even the tip of her nose seemed to droop, then all the muscles of her face contracted and were screwed up before she repeated, ‘My brothers?’
‘Yes, your brothers.’ He put his head on one side now and shifted the position of his hand against the door, moving it upwards, and like this his thumb was almost buried in her hair, and then he went on, ‘They had been in Newcastle this afternoon for a purpose I will leave to your imagination. They happened to be walking along one side of the beech hedge while Maggie was walking along the other. They were discussing the disadvantages of having to go into Newcastle for their pleasures because apparently at one time these had been available in the house, among the lower orders of course.’ He nodded his head at her now. ‘But times have changed, they said, and now there was only Betty and Maggie herself. And at this Maggie naturally pricked up her ears, only to hear your brother Roland saying that he would be hard pushed if he had to take Maggie to supply his needs even, he added, if he were blindfolded.’
The muscles of her face had again stretched, once more her mouth was hanging open, but she snapped it closed and gulped as he asked, ‘How would you have reacted if you had heard that somebody would have to be blindfolded before they could touch your body?’
He watched her blink rapidly, he watched the colour flood up over what had been her deadly pale skin; then he took his hand from the door and stood back from her, and his voice was quiet but deep as he said, ‘What I’d like to do now is to go in there and bust their mouths for them, and I could do it, but I know where I’d land, and they’re not worth it. So, I’ll just say to you, miss, the quicker I get out of this place the better; I’ve put it off long enough. I’m engaged by the week, so as you seem to be running the show, I give you a week’s notice.’
She was staring at him speechless. Then her body jerked to the side as his hand again thrust forward; but it was to open the door, and she slid round the door and out. When she was gone he closed it again and now stood with his back to it and his eyes tightly shut and, his hands turned into fists by his side, he muttered, ‘God! That woman.’ Then bringing himself from the door, he drew in a long breath as he muttered to himself, ‘Well, it’ll soon be over.’
‘You must apologise to her.’
‘What?’ Arnold Thorman looked at his sister as if she too, like Millie, had become abnormal; then he added, ‘Don’t be stupid. Apologise to Maggie?’
‘Yes, apologise to Maggie. You should be ashamed of yourself. And you too.’ She now looked at Roland and he, staring at her coolly, said, ‘You are being ridiculous. How old are you now? Twenty-five. No, twenty-six, and you’re talking as if you had just come out of school, a convent school. In fact, that type is more aware of life than, let me tell you, you seem to be. Why, our grandfather used to . . . ’
‘I don’t want to hear what our grandfather used to do; I only know that Maggie has been hurt, more than hurt, insulted.’
‘You don’t insult that kind of person, Agnes.’
She stared at her eldest brother now and again there came into her mind, how different she was from them all on this side of the house: she was, as she had felt before, more akin to those on the staff, except of course that Bradley individual. Oh, that man!
Looking back at her brother she said quietly, ‘Arnold, you are acting like Lord of the Manor, and you are not a lord, and this is not a manor, it isn’t even a decently run establishment. And let me tell you something. I don’t know how much reading you’ve done about Australia but, from what I’ve read, it’s a raw country, and I’m afraid your gentlemanly and, I might add, archaic ideas of what rights gentlemen are entitled to are going to be shattered somewhat, and I only wish it were possible for me to be there to see the process.’
She turned from them and as she walked down the room Roland called after her, ‘This is a nice send-off, I must say. Our last night here too.’
At the door she stopped and, looking back at them, she cried, ‘Then why not return to Newcastle and continue your entertainment.’
As she entered the hall and made for the stairs she saw Ruthie coming through the door from the kitchen, leading Millie by the hand, and, drawing her quickly across the hall, she said, ‘She’s upset, miss. She’s just heard that Robert . . . Bradley’s leaving. He’s in a paddy: he’s had an upset of some kind; must have been with Bloom. And there’s our Maggie been crying her eyes out; she’s got a spasm of toothache. My mother says she’ll have to go into the dentist the morrow. Will it be all right if I take her in, miss?’
Tempers, toothaches, brothers and their prostitutes, and Bradley.
‘Yes, yes; we’ll see about it tomorrow. Come along, Millie.’ She almost grabbed Millie’s hand and pulled her up the stairs, and when Millie showed some reluctance to go into her room, she stopped and, wagging her finger in her face, she said, ‘Now Millie, don’t you start, because I’m in no mood tonight to put up with any tantrums. You understand?’
‘Bradley. I like Bradley.’
‘Too many people like Bradley. Come on.’
In the bedroom she ordered, ‘Get your things off and get to bed.’ She wasn’t, however, immediately obeyed, for Millie, standing firmly in the middle of the room, said quietly, ‘But Aggie, I don’t want to go to bed yet.’
Agnes was at the wardrobe taking down Millie’s dressing gown and her hand became still on the rail. Millie was talking. She had not talked coherently like this for some time. She turned and went towards her, saying quietly now, ‘Bradley wants to go away, Millie, and if he wants to go, he’ll go; nothing we can say will stop him.’
‘He’s nice.’
Agnes walked to the bed and laid the dressing gown across the foot of it; then picking up a nightdress case, she pulled out Millie’s nightdress and shook it gently as she said, ‘What makes you think he’s nice?’
The lucidity of the reply she got brought her slowly round to survey her sister, for Millie, speaking quietly, said, ‘He talks to me as if I was like anyone else. He is not fearful of me, and he laughs with me and understands what I say. When I told him yesterday I would like to fly, he said, he, too, had always wanted to fly and he wondered why birds could not only fly but walk, not hopping but putting one foot in front of the other like we do. And then some of them could also swim. He said it was very unfair that we could only walk. Nobody has ever talked to me like that. You haven’t, have you, Aggie?’
Slowly Agnes sat down on the side of the bed and stared at this beloved creature. She was right. No, she hadn’t talked to her like that, and if she had said that she wanted to fly she would have replied, ‘Don’t be silly! You are not a bird, humans can’t fly.’ But Bradley had apparently voiced what many men dreamed of doing, and that was flying. Only recently there had been something in the paper about a man making silk wings and jumping off a bridge, only he fell into the water and sank. But they were now making great machines, she understood, that flew in the air. Zeppelins they called them. But above all, what Bradley had done was to get her talking again, and this had likely obliterated the events of that particular evening, which must have been terrifying for her, so much so that it had made her dumb for weeks.
‘Nothing stays nice for long, does it, Aggie?’
Agnes rose from the bed and, going towards the slim form, she enfolded it in her arms, saying gently, ‘No, that’s true, dear. But from now on things will be different. We’ll . . . we’ll go for walks and I’ll read to you, and during the winter months we’ll play the piano together, because you can play some little pieces, can’t you? Then in the summer we will take a part of the garden, all to ourselves, and make it new again. There now.’ She pressed her sister gently from her and looked into her face, smiling as she said, ‘Isn’t that something to look forward to?’
Millie now smiled back at her, saying, ‘Yes, yes, it is, Aggie, something to look forward to; but’ – her head drooped – ‘I do wish you would ask Bradley to stay. Could you ask Bradley to stay? I . . . I think he would stay for you.’
Agnes felt the colour rising once more over her face as she asked, ‘What makes you think that?’
‘Because . . . because I think he likes you, because when I talk about you he talks about you.’
‘He does? When has he talked about me?’
‘Oh, when he was doing the windows and the floor in the library where the dry rot is. That was funny, wasn’t it? We laughed about that. Why do they call it dry rot, he said, when it’s caused by wet?’
‘And what did he say about me?’ Agnes brought her back to the question.
‘Oh’ – Millie turned her head to the side as if trying to recall something – ‘he . . . he said you had lovely eyes, and . . . and I said you had lonely eyes. And then he said, yes, yes I was right, you had lonely eyes.’
‘Here!’ Agnes’ voice was sharp now. ‘Get your things off. And Millie . . . Millie, look at me. You are not to discuss me with Bradley. You understand? For the time he is here, you are not to talk about me to Bradley.’
‘Yes, Aggie. All right.’
As Agnes busied herself about the room, Millie slowly took off her clothes, muttering the while to herself; then when she was in bed and Agnes was seated ready to read to her, she suddenly sat up straight, saying, ‘Oh, Bradley promised to bring me a puppy. He was going to ask you if I could have a puppy. He knew of a lovely puppy. Oh, I do want a puppy. Can I have a puppy? Will you let me have a puppy, Aggie?’
‘Yes, yes. Lie down. All right, you may have a puppy, but . . . but he must be kept outside.’
‘Outside?’
‘Yes. We’ll have a special place made for him outside.’
‘But . . . but I want him in the house, in here’ – she pointed down to the counterpane – ‘in bed with me.’
‘You can’t have a puppy in bed, Millie.’
‘But . . . but Bradley said he had a puppy and it used to lie beside him in bed.’
‘Lie down!’ Her voice was almost a scream and Millie lay down, and Agnes, closing the book with a bang, put it on the side table; then looking down again on the thin pale face, she said, ‘I’ll be back shortly. Lie still now, I’ll be back shortly.’
A few minutes later she was standing in her own room and with her hands joined tightly in the curve of her breasts; her lips were pulled into a thin line and her eyes were screwed tight and her mind was crying, Bradley! Bradley! Bradley! If I hear his name once more tonight, I too will become demented.
Five
Greg Hubbard took the horse out of the shafts of the trap and passed them over to Robert, saying, ‘Not a copper.’
‘What do you mean, not a copper?’
‘Well, I expected at least half a sovereign, ’cos yesterday he said to me, “Keep things going as well as possible, Hubbard, won’t you?” And I said, “Yes, sir, I’ll do me best.” So I thought, well, this mornin’ . . . just a little appreciation. But no, not even a damned penny, only, “You sure everything’s in the van, Hubbard?”’ He was imitating Arnold’s voice now. ‘“Good. Do as you said now and see to things. Goodbye.”’
He now followed Robert into the stables, saying, ‘Anyway, I’m glad they’ve gone. And the other young snot too, up there learning how to be snottier. We might have a bit of peace for a time now. But then I don’t know because Miss has been going round this morning like a bear with a sore skull. And things are not right in the kitchen either. That business last night about Maggie having the toothache, she’s got no toothache. But she was upset over something, and I can tell you I was upset to see her in such a state. She’s a good lass, is Maggie, and she wouldn’t have been crying like that for nothing. I couldn’t get to sleep last night for thinking about it. Do you know owt? And then about you leaving; man, that surprised me.’
