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Authors: Stan Barstow

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BOOK: The Likes of Us
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Where had all that gone to, he wondered, all that passion? How could Cynthia have lost interest to the point where pride stopped him from pressing himself on her? She behaved towards him now as though he had cheated her, as if he had promised her something he'd known he could never fulfil. He had even begun to harbour fears for her mental stability.

‘She doesn't seem to want to mix much,' Fell was saying.

‘Who, Cynthia?'

‘Yes. Emily thought she perhaps ought to call and see her, but she doesn't want to push herself.'

It was an idea. There were activities Cynthia could share in, charities she could help support. People here tended not to make a fuss; they left you to yourself until you showed that that was not your choice.

‘We don't see you at Chapel, Gerald,' Fell said.

‘No. Cynthia's not a chapel-goer, and neither am I any longer.'

‘That seems a pity.'

Hare didn't choose to discuss with Fell his loss of faith, but now he said, ‘I wish Emily would call. Perhaps Cynthia's felt out of place, plumped down here in a town where everybody's known everybody since Adam was a lad.'

The chamber was filling, the chairman of the council about to call for order. ‘Put her up to it,' Hare said. ‘See what happens.'

 

He saw Laura Sherwood at a distance in the street and stepped into a shop as she walked towards him. There had been nothing spoken between them to account for the embarrassment he felt. They had corresponded spasmodically at the beginning of the war, but only on the level of news, hers from home, his, censored, from the other side of the world. She had been away during the leave given him between his training and his overseas posting, and when her letters stopped he told himself that they had either failed to find him or she had, more likely, formed some attachment. He had not seen or heard of her since his return: it was possible even in a small town to go for long periods without bumping into
someone. Now a discreet enquiry told him that she was still unmarried.

She began to fill his thoughts, until he faced himself squarely and acknowledged the bitter mistake he had made. If only he had waited. If only he had kept up their correspondence and used that to begin the courtship he had been too diffident to press while they were together.

It was in the grip of this renewed longing and in the thought that only she stood in his way that his attitude towards Cynthia began to match hers towards him. She seemed surprised that he had turned and, as though excited by the smell of battle, began to provoke open rows.

‘How can a man change so much?' she said. ‘That's what surprises me.'

‘I don't know what you expected. You've got a good living in a comfortable house, in a pleasant town full of pleasant people.'

‘That lot, looking at you sideways if you wear anything a bit out of the ordinary. That lot with their bibles under their arms, sticking their tupp'ny-ha'penny noses in the air.'

‘You won't try to understand them. You never make one move to be friendly.'

‘No, because they bore me rigid; and now you're back among them you're just the same. What happened to that knight of the air in his beautiful blue uniform, that's what I want to know?'

The way she could mock, her head back, dark eyes glittering with malice.

‘He was something got up for the duration.'

‘Well, I preferred him, even if he was shit-scared half the time.'

Hare flinched and coloured. He could never match the sheer wantonness of her tongue. ‘You're fit for nothing but the bar of some pub,' he said, ‘swapping dirt with your customers and taking whichever of 'em you fancy into your bed.'

‘And what kind of satisfaction do you think you give a woman in bed?'

‘It was all some kind of pretence, then, was it, all that at the beginning?'

Her chin came down. The blaze subsided. She seemed genuinely lost herself.

‘I don't know what it was,' she muttered, ‘except that I must have been out of my mind.'

Suddenly he found hope kindled that she would leave him.

‘You'd better decide what you're going to do, then,' he said.

‘Do? Do? What is there to do?'

‘Clear out. Do what you like. We'll get a divorce.'

‘On what grounds?' He saw the spirit flare in her again as she looked at him. ‘It'll cost you a packet to get rid of me, Gerald. And that's on top of the scandal.'

He wondered if there was anybody in the Scarborough set with whom she went too far; if her behaviour there could give him a lever. Perhaps he ought to hire someone to watch her. He shrank from the thought.

 

Hare saw Laura again and this time did not avoid her. She looked at him directly, with a genuine friendliness that seemed free of resentment. He asked after her father.

‘I'm afraid he's failing,' she told him. ‘He doesn't go out any more.'

‘You never come into the shop,' he said. ‘You've become quite a stranger.'

‘Circumstances
change. And you don't buy furniture every other week.'

‘True enough.'

‘How is your new house progressing?'

‘You've heard about that?'

‘I saw the builders and someone mentioned your name.'

‘It's my wife's idea.'

‘How is Mrs Hare? I never see her about the town. Is she well?'

‘Oh, she's all right in herself.' He found himself hoping she would detect the lack of concern in his voice.

The weight under his heart seemed to bow his shoulders as he watched her go.

He was standing outside Fell's new double-fronted shop and now the door suddenly opened and Tom came out wearing his khaki working-smock.

‘Gerald…' Fell glanced along the street. ‘Wasn't that Miss Sherwood?'

‘Yes.'

‘Pleasant woman. Keeps herself to herself. She goes to the Primitive Methodists, so we don't really know her.'

‘Seems she's occupied in looking after her father.'

‘And no chance of a match, I expect, till he's off her hands. Pity. She'd likely make some chap a good wife. Not a bad-looking woman. No raving beauty, but not plain either.'

His remarks irritated Hare. He felt there was even a hint of prurience in Fell's discussing in such terms a woman he hardly knew.

‘Well, that'll be her business,' he said.

‘Oh, aye,' Fell said. ‘Hers and some single young chap's. Nothing to do with old married men like you and me.'

Hare was turning to go when Fell went on, ‘By the way, Emily spoke on the telephone to your wife.'

‘Oh?'

‘Seems they've fixed up to go on a jaunt together.'

‘A jaunt?'

‘Yes. To a horse show, somewhere Wetherby way.'

Hare stood bemused. Well, if it worked and Cynthia made one friend in the town... It was no use his yearning for the impossible. He should try to build on what he'd got. And they had been close, in a way, he and Cynthia, for a while. Something, he told himself, must happen. They couldn't go on indefinitely as they were.

‘Is she interested in horses, then?' Fell was asking.

‘She used to ride a little at one time.'

‘Well, that's where they're going. Let's hope they have a nice day for it.'

‘I decided to take your advice,' Cynthia said, when Hare mentioned it. ‘If she wants to be friendly I may as well give it a try.'

‘Tom Fell's my oldest friend,' Hare said. ‘And his wife's a straightforward warm-hearted woman.'

‘Well, we shall see.'

‘How will you go?'

‘In my car. She doesn't drive.'

He felt himself softening towards her. ‘Cynthia,' he said, ‘we ought to be able to do better than this.'

‘It's a poor lookout if we can't.'

 

Hare was dozing by the fire, a book in his lap, when the uniformed police sergeant came to the door. He was from the local station and on foot. There had been a bad accident on the Al. The driver of one of the cars was Mrs Hare. No, both she and her passenger were alive but seriously injured. Could Hare tell him who the other woman was?

‘It's Tom Fell's wife.'

Hare gave the officer a lift round to Fell's house. Fell had to take the children to his parents before he could leave for the hospital. To Hare's astonishment, he told the girls, still drooping from their disturbed sleep, what had happened. He sat beside Hare on the journey to the hospital, already in a state of shock. ‘Oh God, what a terrible thing,' he said over and over. ‘Oh God, help us, what a terrible, terrible thing,' until Hare's own nerves were jumping and he forced himself to drive with an exaggerated care that brought Fell to an almost frantic impatience. ‘Hurry, Gerald. For God's sake hurry.'

Cynthia was in the operating theatre. Hare was told that she had every chance of recovery and since there was nothing he could do here why didn't he go home and telephone in the morning.

He came upon Fell in a corridor. Fell was leaning against the wall, his face hidden, his shoulders heaving as though he were trying to vomit. Hare touched him. ‘Tom...' When he turned Hare saw that he was torn by great racking sobs. He got out his words as if they were choking him. ‘She's dead, Gerald. Emily's gone. Oh, what am I going to do? Whatever can I do?'

 

Cynthia came home to her own bed after a fortnight. Hare employed a nurse to look after her while he was out at his business. She had some while ago demanded a room of her own, but now he moved a bed in beside hers so that he would be near her in the night. She became withdrawn, brooding, in a prolonged reflection on her situation. He woke in the middle of one night to find her lying still, eyes wide open, the lamp burning on the far side of her bed.

‘Is there anything you want?'

‘No.'

‘Are you comfortable?'

‘Yes.' There was a silence. ‘I was just thinking.'

‘Yes?'

‘What a pity it couldn't have been me.'

‘What?'

‘What a pity she was killed and I was spared.'

‘You're talking nonsense.'

‘No, I'm not. Your troubles would have been over. You'd have been free.' A silence. ‘And so would I.'

 

Hare took Laura's father's death as an excuse to call on her. She gave him tea.

‘I feel quite... quite lost without him; without him to care for and think about.'

‘Now you can think about yourself for a change.'

‘Yes. He'd had a pretty fair innings. Not like poor Mr Fell's wife. That was a terrible shame. How is Mrs Hare?'

‘Up and about now. She'll soon be quite her old self.'

‘She had a lucky escape.'

‘Yes ... You know that we don't hit it off, Cynthia and I?'

‘I didn't, no. I knew she didn't mix much in the town.'

‘We virtually live apart.'

‘I'm sorry. But God moves in mysterious ways and you've got plenty of time to settle your differences and grow together again.'

‘I made a terrible mistake,' Fell said. ‘And all I can think now is, if only I'd waited. If only I had.'

‘I don't know what you're trying to say to me, but I wish you wouldn't. It really is none of my business.'

‘But it is, Laura. I should have waited and come back to you. Do you remember those times before the war, when we used to walk out together?'

‘Of course I remember, but –'

‘I said nothing then because I was in awe of you.'

‘In awe of me?' She laughed. ‘Never!'

‘Oh, I was. And then the war came and separated us.'

‘And then you married and brought a wife home.'

‘I still want you, Laura. I want you more than I ever did.'

‘You mustn't talk like that. You have a wife.'

‘I'm ready to separate from her. I can't go on like this. I'll get a divorce.'

‘Do you expect me to give her the grounds for that?'

‘I'll find a way.'

‘“Those whom God hath joined let no man put asunder.” I don't believe in divorce.' She turned away and walked across the room. He could see that she was agitated, her face aflame. ‘And I've told you, you mustn't come here and talk to me like this.'

‘You still cling to all that, do you?' he said. ‘The chapel, religion?'

‘Of course. Don't you?'

‘No. All that mumbo-jumbo was sticking in my throat before the war came, and nothing I saw while I was fighting changed me back. The clergy blessed both sides, you know.'

‘You shouldn't blame God for the shortcomings of His followers. Besides, men who might be killed at any time need spiritual comfort, whichever side they fight on.'

‘If God exists,' Hare said.

‘You don't think he does?'

‘They estimate that the Nazis slaughtered six million Jews. What loving father would let that happen to his children?'

‘Suffering has always been a mystery,' Laura said. She came and took his cup. ‘And now I think you ought to go.'

He got up. One thing, he thought, he would know before he left.

‘Laura... I want to ask you and I want you to answer me truthfully.'

‘You've said enough. Please go now.'

‘I want to know... If I were free, would you... would you favour me?'

She sighed as she moved to rest one hand on the mantelshelf and look into the fire.

‘There was a time,' she said finally, ‘when I thought a great deal about that. But you're not free, so the question doesn't arise now.'

 

Cynthia had an older sister who had married and settled in Australia. She wrote to Cynthia in glowing terms of the new life and the glorious weather. Why didn't Cynthia wangle a trip out and recuperate in the sunshine?

‘Why don't you go?' Hare said.

‘Do you mean it?'

BOOK: The Likes of Us
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