Road to Berry Edge, The (17 page)

Nancy knew very well that Rob was not at home most Saturday nights. Rumour said he kept a beautiful mistress in the city. She was also aware that he had been married. There were pictures in his bedroom of a pretty young dark haired girl, in one of which she was wearing a wedding dress, but he didn't discuss his marriage - or, indeed, anything of his past, or anything important about the present, other than with Harry.

Nancy had a respect for Rob which she would never have for Harry. Though Harry flirted and laughed, talked to her and to the other maids, and was open and friendly, she called him and thought of him as ‘Mr Shaw'. She called Rob ‘sir', but always thought of him by his first name in her mind. They had, she knew, a special relationship, and Nancy was glad of that. Rob chose not to hide the fact that he liked her, that he was fond of her, and Nancy knew quite well that if she had any difficult problems in her life she could take them to Rob and he would sort them out. Harry liked her, but Nancy cared nothing for that; Harry was free with his favours. Even some of the men liked Harry, but nobody in Berry Edge liked Rob. Nobody had a good word to say about him, but Nancy could see what he had done and was doing. There was work, people were at the works and the pits full time now. He had begun to repair houses and build new ones, he had got himself on to committees and councils where he could be influential and make the difference,
and Rob was effective. He was bringing Berry Edge back to life again. Everything seemed brighter to her somehow, and it was not just the spring arriving. Last spring there had been little work and less pay and no one had been in good spirits. Now the men cursed his name freely in the town, but to most of them that was good. They had not talked about Rob's father like that. They had disliked him because they felt he had let them down, that he was weak, but Rob was somebody they could fight with, fight against. It was not just the men alone Rob was in conflict with. He made everybody sweat. Vera's husband had come home with the satisfying message that the manager of the plate mills thought Rob was as big a bastard as his men did. Nancy was pleased about that.

*

Rob longed for Saturdays. Although now he could have gone to see Susannah at any time, he was far too busy to go during the week. But he liked the idea of her waiting for him, not seeing other men. He kept her lavishly. He liked doing so, and knew also that Susannah was keeping Claire with his money. There were no more men at the house and he was glad. Claire went out on Saturday nights. Harry had not been there for some time. It didn't surprise Rob. Harry always grew bored with women quickly.

Saturday nights made up for the rest of the week. She always ran down the stairs when she heard him at the door, he could hear her feet clattering, and then she would pull open the door and throw herself into his arms. It was so sweet that it made up for the difficult parts of his life.

One particular week in April everything had gone wrong. Orders had been down, castings had been badly made and sent back - and some were not able to be sent; men had stayed away from work, and some thief had broken into the offices and made the kind of mess which would take weeks to sort out. Rob's father had been too ill to come downstairs now for almost a fortnight. He had suddenly become worse
and lost the use of speech and the whole of his left side. Rob tried to be sorry, but the most he could manage was a kind of polite sympathy for his mother and a longing to rush off to Durham and lose himself in Susannah's body. With his father so ill he had not seen her for two weeks. By the third week he couldn't sleep and could barely eat or work. He thought Saturday would never come. All he wanted was to come away and have her in his arms. He pulled her to him when she opened the door and crushed her there until she said she couldn't breathe. They went inside arm in arm.

‘God Almighty, you look wonderful,' he said. ‘I'm so sorry I haven't seen you. I adore you, I want you, come here.' He rained kisses on her. Susannah laughed and kissed him lingeringly on the mouth.

‘I love you,' she said.

She unknotted his tie and the top two buttons on his shirt, and then he drew her back against him and cuddled her and sighed.

‘We see less of each other now than we did before you kept me,' Susannah pointed out.

‘It won't be forever.'

Rob couldn't bear to leave her the next morning. They stayed in bed until the middle of the afternoon, and even then she kissed him at the outside door as though he was just arriving.

When he got home his mother came out of the sitting room.

‘Where have you been?' she said, as though she had never noticed that quite often he was not there on Saturday nights.

‘Out,' Rob said unhelpfully.

‘Your father died in the middle of the night. You weren't here and nobody seemed to have any idea where you were. Sometimes I have great difficulty in believing that you were ever my son.'

Rob went into the study where Harry was working. He closed the door. Harry looked up.

‘You couldn't have done anything,' he said. ‘He was gone in five minutes. Your mother will be able to move her furniture into the churchyard now. You all right?'

‘Yes.'

Harry got up, smiling.

‘Must have been some night.'

‘I should have been here.'

‘Rob, you've been here night and bloody day for weeks. The old bastard probably chose last night to snuff it just because you
weren't
here. I'm not going to have this be your fault. After all, when it comes to a choice between screwing Susannah and drinking tea with your mother, I know where I'd rather be.'

‘My mother—'

‘I was here. She likes me better than you anyhow.'

‘Why were you here on a Saturday night?'

‘I can't find a woman to put up with me. I wasn't feeling well. I didn't have a clean pair of shoes. What does it matter to you?'

‘Thanks, Harry,' Rob said.

*

Nancy had never been to a Protestant funeral before, but she felt that she should go to Mr Berkeley's. She sat at the back and was amazed at how plain the chapel was and how casually people acted, not like it was a church. Mrs Berkeley cried a lot and Rob not at all, and Mr Shaw looked as though he would rather have been at the races (which Nancy knew for sure, because he had told Rob so earlier in the day). Nancy had got used to Mr Shaw by now, and had stopped being shocked at what he did. Somehow when he told Rob that and made him laugh, she was glad.

The talk around Berry Edge was that Mr Shaw was busy making up to Miss Norman and that no good would come of it, Mr Shaw being very free and Miss Norman as cold as you like. Miss Norman had managed to look very pretty at the funeral. She suited black. It was Rob that Nancy was
concerned about, he was so thin and quiet and looked so good in black and white that Nancy had to make herself concentrate on other things. She wished that she could take him home and feed him soup.

*

They all went back to the house for tea and ham. Harry couldn't understand how people could eat after funerals. The only thing he wanted was a stiff drink, and that was obviously not going to happen unless he sneaked away. He didn't like to leave Rob; his mother had yet to speak a kind word to him. Harry wished that he and Rob could leave, he really wanted to go back to Nottingham at this stage.

Faith, he thought, was in her element here. She chatted to the minister and gave everybody cake. Harry pretended he didn't care what she was doing or who she was talking to, but as the cool wet afternoon went on he became irritated. She wore a smart black dress and hat and smiled at everyone, saying the right things.

Only when most people had left did he get her to himself, and that was in the kitchen, an area of the house that Harry had never had much to do with, and it confused him. He couldn't see what she was doing in there, the maids had cleared up.

‘Harry, hello. I'm just putting cake into tins.'

It mystified him, the things that women did. ‘The day's brighter. Would you like to go for a walk?'

‘I can't. I have a meeting at the chapel at five.' She struggled to put the top on to a tin.

‘It's the wrong one.'

‘What?'

‘It goes on that tin over there.'

‘They're the same size, you wouldn't think it would matter.'

Harry ventured nearer. The cakes were small things in individual wrappers or whatever, with some sort of
cream confection on the top and then two bits of cake stuck on.

‘They're butterfly cakes,' Faith said.

‘I never saw a butterfly that looked anything like that, thank God.'

‘It's the wings.'

‘How disgusting. Come and spend some time with Rob and me, Faith.'

‘I can't.'

‘Don't you want to see us?'

‘I didn't say I didn't want to, I said I couldn't.'

‘And do you want to?'

She didn't reply, and he took the tin out of her hands and jerked up her chin with his fingers.

‘For God's sake, say something!'

‘Don't touch me,' she said.

Harry let go.

‘There is no point in this,' Faith said calmly. ‘I dare say there are a dozen girls in Nottingham who would be glad of your company. Why waste your time?'

‘I didn't think I was wasting my time.'

‘And mine,' Faith said, as if he hadn't spoken.

‘I thought we were going to be friends.'

‘I'm never going to be friends with Rob and that's all you're doing it for—'

‘His father's dead, Faith. Couldn't you—'

‘I hear that he wasn't even there when Mr Berkeley died,' Faith said, looking straight at Harry. ‘I know him quite well. He hasn't really changed at all. Saturday night, drink and women.'

‘Neither of us had been anywhere but work for three weeks, the kind of work that takes up twelve or fourteen hours a day, every day. It was one night, and I was there with Mrs Berkeley.'

‘That must have been a big comfort to her, Harry, considering that you're a stranger and a southerner.'

There was a long silence after that during which Harry considered whether to push her face into the remains of the sherryless trifle.

‘Please forgive me,' he said. ‘I didn't realise that I had been so offensive,' and he swept her a little bow and left the room.

He went through into the sitting room. Rob was there alone by this time.

‘You don't want to go out and get drunk later, do you?'

‘Do we have to wait until later?' Rob said.

*

It was well after midnight when Susannah heard the knocking on her door. She put on a dressing gown and ran downstairs, hesitating no longer when she heard Rob say, ‘Open the door, Susannah, it's me.'

Susannah unbolted the door and let him in.

‘I hoped you'd come. I've been so worried about you.'

‘I'm fine.'

They went upstairs and Susannah watched him walk wearily into the bedroom and sit down on the bed.

‘I'm sorry about your father, Rob. I would have come to the funeral … Would you like a drink?'

‘No, thanks. I've already had several.'

Susannah went over and sat down beside him.

‘Was it when you were here?'

‘Yes.'

Susannah would have put her arms around him, but he got up and moved away.

‘I've been thinking about things, Susannah. I want you to marry me.'

Susannah stared at him.

‘How many drinks did you have?' she said.

‘I mean it. I love you. I want us to get married.'

‘It's been a bad day, Rob—'

‘Do you love me?'

‘You know I do.'

‘Tell me. You never tell me except when I ask you to.'

‘I love you very much, and that's not true.'

‘Will you marry me?'

‘Certainly not. You're upset and shocked and you've had too much whisky, I can smell it. In the morning you'll only wish you hadn't said such things.'

‘I know what I'm saying.'

‘And I know how you felt about your father. I won't have you hurt like this.'

‘There's nothing anybody can do. It's finished now, it's over, he's dead. I want to start again.'

‘You can start again in the morning. It's very late.' She went to him and loosened his tie. ‘How much have you had to drink?'

‘I don't remember.'

‘You look so tired. Don't worry about things, it'll be all right in the morning.'

Rob undressed, fell into bed and slept instantly. Susannah lay awake for a long time holding him close and watching him.

*

When Rob awoke, he wished he hadn't. He had been having a particularly nice dream about Sarah, but just as he was about to kiss her he woke up. Somebody was drawing back the curtains and letting in an inordinate amount of sunlight.

‘Don't do that, damn you,' he said and then realised that he was not at home, that he had not been at home for quite a long time now. It felt like forever. He wished himself in Nottingham. Then Susannah sat down on the bed with a cup and saucer in her hand and said, ‘Early morning tea, sir?', in high affected tones as she evidently thought a maid might.

Rob sat up, trying to avoid the light, and took the cup and saucer from her.

‘What time is it?' he said.

‘Oh, good morning, Susannah. What a beautiful morning, and how lovely you're looking.'

‘You've put sugar in it,' Rob said.

He gave her back the cup and saucer and closed his eyes and said again, ‘What time is it?'

‘Eleven o'clock, near enough.'

‘I should have been at work three hours ago.'

‘Then why aren't you?' she said, throwing his jacket at him.

Rob got hold of her wrists and brought her to him.

‘Whisky,' she objected, turning her face away. He kissed her. ‘And you need a shave. Go away.'