BY A. J. CRONIN 33 страница

"When I was your age, Nessie, I could have eaten an ox when I came rushin' in from the fields for my dinner. I was a hardy chiel ay ready for what I could get. I could never get enough, though, No! No! Things were different for me than they are for you, Nessie! I didna have your chance. Tell me," he murmured confidentially, "how are things goin’ to-day?"

"Quite well," she replied automatically.

"You're still top of the class,' he insisted.

"Oh! Father," she expostulated, "I'm tired of explaining to you that we don't have that sort of thing now. I've told you half a dozen times in the last three months that it all goes by quarterly examinations." With a faint note of vanity in her voice she added, "Surely you understand that I’m past that stage now."

"Ay! ay!" he hastily replied. "I was forgettin' that a big girl and a fine scholar like you wouldna have to be fashed wi' such childish notions. True enough, it's examinations that you and me are concerned with." He paused, then in a sly tone remarked, "How long have we now till the big one?"

"About six months, I suppose," she answered half-heartedly, as she pallidly continued her meal.

"That's just fine," he retorted. "No' that long to wait and yet plenty of time for ye to prepare. Ye can't say ye havena had warnin' o't." He whispered almost inaudibly:

"Ay! I'll keep ye to it, lass you and me'll win the Latta between us."

At this point old Grandma Brodie, who had been sitting expectantly for a second course to follow and who, regardless of the conversation, had been itching, but afraid, to say, "Is there nothin' else comin'" or "Is this a' we're to get", at last abandoned hope; with a resigned but muffled sigh she scraped back her chair from the table, raised her stiff form, and dragged disconsolately from the kitchen. As she passed through the door she was unhappily aware that little comfort was in her, that in the sanctuary of her room two empty tins awaited her like rifled and unreplenished tabernacles mutely proclaiming the prolonged absence of her favourite Deesides and her beloved oddfellows.

Wrapped in the contemplation of his daughter, Brodie did not observe his mother's departure, but remarked in a tone that was almost coaxing:

"Have ye no news at all then, Nessie? Surely some one said something to ye. Did nobody tell ye again that ye were a clever lass? I'll warrant that ye got extra good marks for your home work," It was as though he besought her to inform him of some commendation, some pleasing attribute bestowed upon the daughter of James Brodie; then, as she shook her head negatively, his eye darkened to a sudden thought and he burst out savagely, "They havena been talkin' about your father, have they, any o' these young whelps? I daresay they listen to what the backbitin' scum o' their elders might be say in 1, but if they come over a thing to ye, just let me know. And dinna believe it. Keep your head up, high up. Remember who ye are that you're a Brodie and demand your due. Show them what that means. Ay and ye will show them, my girl, when ye snap awa' wi' the Latta from under their snivellin' nebs." He paused; then, with a twitching cheek, bit out at her, "Has that young brat o' Grierson's been makin' any of his sneakin' remarks to ye?"

She shrank back timidly from him, exclaiming, "No, no, Father! Nobody has said anything, Father. Everybody is as kind as can be. Mrs. Paxton gave me some chocolate when she met me going down the road."

"Oh! She did, did she?" He hesitated, digesting the information; apparently it disagreed with him, for he sneered: "Well, tell her to keep her braw presents the next time. Say we have all we want here. If ye're wantin' sweeties, like a big saftie, could ye not have asked me for them? Do ye not know that every scandalmonger in the town is just gaspin' for the chance to run us down? 'He canna afford to give his own daughter a bit sweetie next that's what we'll be hearin' to-morrow, and by the time it gets to the Cross they'll be makin' out that I'm starvin' ye." His annoyance was progressive and he worked himself up to a climax, crying: "Bah! Ye should have had more sense. They're all against us. That's the way o't now. But never mind! Let them fling all the mud they like. Let the hand of every man be turned against me I'll win through in spite o' them." As he concluded, he raised his eye wildly upwards when, suddenly, he observed Nancy had come into the room and was watching him from under her raised brows with a critical and faintly amused detachmcnt. At once his inflated bearing subsided and, as though caught in some unwarrantable act, he lowered his head while she spoke.

"What's all the noise about! I thought that somebody had taken a fit when I heard ye skirlin' like that," and as he did not reply she turned to Nessie.

"What was the haverin' about? I hope he wasna flightin' at you, henny?"

With Nancy's advent into the kitchen a vague discomfort had possessed Nessie and now the skin of her face and neck, which had at first paled, flushed vividly. She answered confusedly, in a low voice:

"Oh! No. It was nothing nothing like that."

"I'm glad to hear it," replied Nancy. "All that loud rantin' was enough to deafen a body. My ears are ringin' with it yet." She glanced around disapprovingly and was about to retire when Brodie spoke, looking sideways at Nessie, and with an effort making his voice unconcerned.

"If you've finished your dinner, Nessie, run out to the front and wait for me. I'll not be a minute before I'm ready to go down the road with you." Then, as his daughter arose, picked up her things from the sofa and went silently, uneasily, out of the room, he turned his still lowered head; looking upwards from under his brows, he regarded Nancy with a strong, absorbed intensity, and remarked:

"Sit down a minute, woman. I havena seen ye all the dinner hour. Ye're not to be angry at that tantrum. You should know my style by this time. I just forgot myself for a minute."

As she sat down carelessly in the chair Nessie had vacated, his look drew her in with a possessive gratification which told more clearly than his words how she had grown upon him. So long without a fresh and vital woman in his house, so painfully encumbered by the old and useless body of his wife, this firm, white, young creature had entered into his blood like an increasing fever, and, by satisfying his fierce and thwarted instincts, had made him almost her slave.

"Ye didna give us any pudding, Nancy," he continued, clumsily taking her hand in his huge grasp; "will ye not give a man something to make up for't just a kiss, now. That'll not hurt ye, woman, and it's sweeter to me than any dish ye could make."

"Tuts, Brodie! You're always on at the same thing," she answered, with a toss of her head. "Can ye not think o' something else for a change? Ye forget that you're a burly man and I'm but a wee bit lass that canna stand a deal of handlin'." Although the words were admonitory she threw an inflection of seductiveness into them which made him tighten his clasp on her fingers, saying:

"I'm sorry if I've been rough with ye, lass. I didna mean it. Come and sit closer by me. Come on now!"

"What!" she skirled. "In broad daylight! Ye maun be mad, Brodie, an’ after last night too, you great lump. Yell have me away to shadow No! No! Ye'll not wear me out like ye did the other."

She looked little like a shadow, with her plump cheeks and solid form that had filled out more maturely from her six months of easy, indolent existence, and, as she regarded him with a substantial appreciation of his dependence upon her, she became aware that he was already losing his hold upon her, that the strange strength which had drawn her was being sapped by drink and her embraces, that he had now insufficient money to gratify her fancies, that he looked old, morose and unsuited to her. She had almost an inward contempt for him as she resumed slowly, calculatingly, "I might gie ye a kiss, though. Just might, mind ye. If I did, what would ye give me for it?"

"Have I not given ye enough, woman?" he answered gloomily. "Ye're housed and fed like myself and I've sold many a thing out this house to meet your humour. Don't ask for the impossible, Nancy."

"Tuts, ye wad think ye had given me a fortune to hear ye," she cried airily. "As if I wasna worth it, either! I'm not askin' ye to sell ony more tie-pins or chains or pictures. I'm only wantin' a few shillings for my purse to go out and see my Aunt Annie in Overtoun tomorrow. Give us five shillin's and I'll give ye a kiss."

His lower lip hung out sulkily.

"Are ye goin' out again to-morrow? Ye're aye goin' out and learin' me. When will ye be back?"

"Man! I believe ye would like to tie me to the leg o' this table. I'm not your slave; I'm only your housekeeper." That was one for him, she thought, as she delivered the pert allusion to the fact that he had never offered to marry her. "I'll not be away all night. I'll be back about ten o'clock or so. Give us the two half-crowns and if ye behave I'll maybe be kinder to ye than ye deserve."

Under her compelling eyes he plunged his hand into his pocket, feeling, not the handful of sovereigns that had once reposed there, but some scanty coins, amongst which he searched for the sum she asked.

"Here ye are then," he said eventually, handing her the money. "I can ill afford it but ye well know I can deny ye nothing."

She jumped up, holding the money triumphantly, and was about to slip away with it when he too got up and catching her by the arm, cried:

"What about your bargain! You're not forgettin' about that! Do ye not care for me at all?"

Immediately she composed her features, lifted up her face, opened her eyes wide at him with an ingenuous simplicity and murmured:

"I should think I do care for ye. Do ye think I would be here if I didna? Ye shouldna get such strange ideas in your head. That's the way mad folk talk. You'll be sayin' I'm goin' away to leave ye next."

"No, I wouldna let ye do that," he replied, crushing her fiercely against him. As he strained her small unresisting form against his own bulk, he felt that here was the anodyne to his wounded pride, forgetfulness of his humiliation, while she, turning her face sideways against his chest, looked away, thinking how ridiculous to her now was his infatuated credulity, how she wanted some one younger, less uncouth, less insatiable, some one who would marry her.

"Woman! What is it about ye that makes my heart like to burst when I have ye like this?" he said thickly, as he held her. "I seem to lose count of everything but you. I would wish this to go on for ever."

A faint smile creased her hidden features as she replied:

"And why should it not? Are ye beginnin' to get tired of me?”

"By God! You're fresher to me than ever ye were." Then after a pause he suddenly exclaimed, "It wasna just the money ye wanted, Nancy?"

She turned an indignant face to him, taking the opportunity to release herself.

"How can ye say such a thing? The very idea! Ill fling it back at ye in a minute if ye don't be quiet."

"No! No!" he interposed hurriedly. "I didna mean anything. You're welcome to it, and I'll bring ye something nice on Saturday." This was the day upon which he drew his weekly wage and with the sudden realisation of his subordinate position, of the change in his life, his face darkened again, became older, and looking down, he said, "Well, I better go then. Nessie's waitin' for me." Suddenly a thought struck him. "Where's that Matt to-day?" he demanded.

"I couldn't say." She stifled a yawn, as though her lack of interest made her positively languid. "He went out straight away after breakfast. He'll not be back now till supper, I expect."

He gazed at her for a moment then said slowly:

"Well, I'll away myself, then. I'm off!"

"That's right," she cried gaily. "Off with ye and mind ye come straight back from the office. If ye have a single drink in ye when ye come in, I'll let ye have the teapot at your head."

From under his heavy eyebrows he looked at her with an upward, shamefaced glance that sat ill upon his lined and sombre countenance; nodding his head to reassure her, he gave her arm a final squeeze and went out.

In the front courtyard, now thickly covered by sprouting weeds and denuded of the ridiculous ornament of the brass cannon which three months ago had been sold for its value as old metal - he found Nessie patiently awaiting him, supporting her unformed, drooping figure against the iron post of the front gate. At the sight of him she raised herself and, without a word, they set out together upon their walk to the point where their paths diverged at the end of Railway Road, where he would proceed to his work in the shipyard and she to hers at school. This daily pilgrimage had now become an established custom between Brodie and his daughter and during its course he had the practice of encouraging and admonishing her, of spurring her onward to achieve the brilliant success he desired; but to-day he did not speak, tapping along with his thick ash stick, his coat sagging upon him, his square hat, faded and unbrushed, thrust back in a painful caricature of his old-time arrogance, marching silently and apart, with an air of inward absorption which made it impossible for her to speak to him. Always, now, in the public gaze, he retired into himself, holding his head erect, looking directly in front of him and seeing no one, creating thus, for himself, wide depopulated streets filled, not with curious, staring, sneering faces, but by the solitude of his single presence.

When they reached their place of separation, he stopped an odd arresting figure and said to her:

"Away and work hard now, Nessie. Stick into it. Remember what I'm always tellin' you 'what's worth doin' is worth doin' well.' Ye've got to win that Latta that's a' there is about it. Here!" he put his hand in his pocket "Here's a penny for chocolate." He almost smiled. "Ye can pay me back when you've won the Bursary."

She took the coin from him timidly yet gratefully, and went on her way to face her three hours of work in a stuffy classroom. If she had taken no breakfast and little lunch, she would at least be sustained and fortified against her study by the ample nourishment of a sticky bar of raspberry cream chocolate!

When she had gone the faint show of animation in his face died out completely and, bracing himself up, he turned and continued his progress to the office which he hated. As he drew near to the shipyard he hesitated slightly in his course, wavered, then faded into the doorway of the "Fitter's Bar" where, in the public bar. filled bv workmen in moleskins and dungaiees. Yet to him tenanted by no one but himself, he swallowed a neat whisky, then quickly emerged and,retaining the fumes of the spirit by a compression of his lips, morosely entered the portals of Latta and Company.

II

ON THE evening of the following day, when Nancy had departed to visit her aunt at Overton, and with Matt, as he always was at this hour, out of the house, a sublime and tranquil domesticity lay upon the kitchen of the Brodie home. So, at least, it seemed to the master of the house as, reclining back in his own chair, head tilted, legs crossed, pipe in mouth, and in his hand a full glass of his favourite beverage, hot whisky toddy, he contemplated Nessie, seated at the table, bent over her lessons, her pale brows knitted in concentration, then surveyed his mother who, in the temporary absence of the hated intruder, had not retired to her room but sat crouched in her old corner beside the blazing fire. A faint flush marked Brodie's cheeks; his lips, as he sucked at his pipe, were wet and full; the eye, now turned meditatively upon the contents of the steaming tumbler, humid, eloquent; by some strange transformation his troubles were forgotten, his mind filled contentedly by the thought that it was a delightful experience for a man to spend an evening happily in his own home. True, he did not now go out in the evenings, or indeed, at any hours but those of his work, shunning the streets and the club; banned, too, from the small back parlour of the virtuous Phemie, and it should logically have been an event of less moment for him to hug the fire and one less productive of such unusual gratification. But to-night, recognising that he would not be called upon to account to his housekeeper for his lateness at the tea table, he had dallied by the wayside on his return from work and now, mellowed further by a few additional drinks and the thought of more to come, the sadness of his separation from Nancy tempered by the exhilaration of his unwonted liberty and by the consideration of their reunion later in the evening, his induced felicity had enveloped him earlier and more powerfully than on most nights. Viewed from his armchair, through the clear amber of the toddy, his position in the office became a sinecure, his subordinate routine merely an amusing recreation; it was his whim to work like that and he might terminate it at his will; he was glad to be finished with his business, an ignoble trade which had clearly never suited his temper or his breeding; he would, however, shortly abandon the hobby of his present post for a more prominent, more lucrative occupation, startling the town, satisfying himself and delighting Nancy. His Nancy ah! That was a woman for a man! As her image rose before him he toasted her, hoping enthusiastically that she might now be having a pleasant time with her aunt at Overton. Rosy mists floated through the dirty ill-kept room, tinting the soiled curtains, veiling the darker coloured square which marked the disappearance from the wall of Bell's engraving, sending a glow into Nessie's pale cheeks and softening even the withered, envious face of his mother. He watched the old woman's starting eyes over the edge of his glass as he took a long satisfying drink and, when he had

drawn his breath, cried jeeringly:

"Ye're wishin' you were me, ye auld faggot. Ay, I can see from the greedy look about you that you wish this was goin' into your belly and not mine. Well, take it from me, in case ye don't know, it's a great blend o' whisky, the sugar is just to taste and the water is right because there's not too much o't." He laughed uproariously at his own wit, causing Nessie to look up with a scared expression, but catching his glance, she immediately lowered hers as he exclaimed:

"On with the work, ye young limmer! What are ye wastin' your time for? Am I payin' for your education for you to sit gogglin’ at folks when you should be at your books."

Turning to his mother again, he shook his head solemnly, continuing volubly, "I must keep her at it! That's the only way to correct the touch o' her mother's laziness that's in her. But trust me! I'll make her a scholar in spite of it. The brains are there." He took another pull at his glass and sucked noisily at his pipe.

The old woman returned his glance sourly, dividing her gaze between his flushed face and the whisky in his hand as she remarked:

"Where is that where is she gane to-night?"

He stared at her for a moment then guffawed loudly. "Ye mean Nancy, ve auld witch. Has she put a spell on you too, that you're feared even to lift her name?" Then after a pause, during which he assumed a leering gravity, he continued, "Well, I hardly like to tell ye, but if ye must know, she's awa' to the Band of Hope meetin'.”

She followed the vehemence of his mirth, as he shook with laughter, with an unsympathetic eye, and replied as tartly as she dared:

"I don't see much to laugh about. If she had gone to the Band o' Hope when she was younger she might have " she stopped, feeling his eye upon her, thinking that she had gone too far.

"Go ahead," he gibed; "finish what ye were sayin'. Let us all have our characters when you're about it. There's no pleasin' some folk. Ye werna satisfied with Mamma, and now ye're startin' to pick holes in my Nancy. I suppose ye think you could keep the house yoursel' that maybe ye might get an odd pingle at the bottle that way. Faugh! The last time ye cooked my dinner for me ye nearly poisoned me." He considered her amusedly from his elevated position, thinking of how he might best take her down a peg.

Suddenly a wildly humorous idea struck him, which, in its sardonic richness, made him slap his thigh delightedly. She was grudging him his drink was she, eyeing it as a cat would a saucer of cream, gasping for it, ready to lap it up at the first opportunity. She should have it then, she who was so quick to run down other people! By Gad! She should have it. He would make her full, yes, full as a whelk. He realised that he had plenty of whisky in the house, that in any case it would take very little to go to the old woman's head, and as some foretaste of the drollery of his diversion invaded him, he rocked with suppressed hilarity and smote his leg again exuberantly. Losh! But he was a card!

Then all at once he cut off his laughter, composed his features and, narrowing his small eyes slyly, remarked cunningly:

"Ah! It seems hardly fair o' me to have spoken to ye like that, woman. I can see it's put ye right down. You're lookin' quite daunted. Here! Would ye like a drop speerits to pull ye together?" Then, as she looked up quickly, suspiciously, he nodded his head largely and continued, "Ay. I mean it. I'm quite serious. What way should I have it an no' you? Away and get yoursel' a glass."

Her dull eye lighted with eagerness, but knowing his ironic tongue too well, she still doubted him, was afraid to move for fear a burst of his derisive laughter should disillusion her, and moistening her lips with her tongue she exclaimed in a tremulous voice:

"You're not just makin' fun o' me, are ye?"

Again he shook his head, this time negatively, vigorously, and reaching down to the bottle conveniently beside his chair he held it out enticingly before her.

"Look! Teacher's Highland Dew. Quick! Away and get yoursel' a tumbler!"

She started to her feet eagerly, as though she were beginning a race, and made her way to the scullery, trembling at the thought of her luck, she who had not lipped a drop since the day of the funeral and then only wine, not the real, comforting liquor. She was back, holding out the glass, almost before he had controlled the fresh burst of amusement which her avid, tottering progress had afforded him; but as he poured her out a generous allowance, he remarked in a steady, solicitous voice:

"An old body like yersel' needs a drop now and then. See, I'm givin' you plenty and don't take much water with it."

"Oh, no, James," she protested. "Don't give me ower much. You know I'm not fond o' much o't just a wee drappie to keep out the cold."

At her last words a sudden memory cut across his jocularity like a whip lash and he snarled at her:

"Don't use these words to me! It minds me too much of somebody I'm not exactly fond of. Why do ye speak like a soft and mealy-mouthed hypocrite?" He glowered at her while she drank her whisky quickly, for fepr he should take it from her; then, urged by a more vindictive spirit, he cried out, "Come on. Here's some more. Glass about."

"Na! Na!" she exclaimed mildly. "I've had enough. It's warmed me nicely and gie'n my mouth a bit flavour. Thenk ye all the same, but I'll no' have any more."

"Ye’re not say no to me." he shouted roughly. "What are ye to refuse good spirits? Ye asked for it and you'll have it, even if I've to pour it down your auld thrapple. Hold out your glass; we'll drink fair."

Wonder ingly she submitted, and when he had given her another liberal helping, she drank it more slowly, appreciatively, smacking her lips and rolling it over her tongue, murmuring between her sips,

"It's the real stuff, richt enough. It's unco kind o' ye, James, to spare me this. I've never had so much afore. Troth. I'm not used to it." She was silent whilst the liquid in her glass dwindled, then all at once she burst out, "It's got a graund tang on your tongue has it no? 'Deed it almost makes me feel young again." She tittered slightly. "I was just thinkin' " she tittered more loudly.

At the sound of her levity he smiled darkly.

"Yes," he drawled, "and what were ye thinkin', auld woman? Tell us so that we can enjoy the joke."

She snickered the more at his words, and covering her wrinkled face with her knotted hands, abandoned herself to a delicious, inward humour until at last she coyly unveiled one senile, maudlin eye and whispered brokenly:

"Soap! I was just thinkin' about soap."

"Indeed, now; ye were thinkin' about soap!" he mimicked. "That's very appropriate. Was it a wash that ye wer wantin'? For if that's the case, I can assure ye that it's high time ye had one."

"Na, na," she giggled, "it's no' that. It just flashed into my heid what the wives used to do in my young days, when they wanted a drop o' speerits without the guid-man knowin' about it. They they wad go to the village grocer's for their gill and get it marked to the book as soap. Soap!" She was quite overcome by her enjoyment of this delicious subtlety and again buried her face in her hands; but she looked up after a moment to add, "Not that I ever did a thing like that! No! I was aye respectable and could scrub the house without that kind of cleanser!"

"That's right! Blow your own trumpet," he sneered. "Let us know what a paragon o' virtue you were. I'm listenin'."

"Ay! I did weel in these days," she continued reminiscently, losing, in the present fatuity of her mind, all awe of her son, "and I had muckle to put up wi'. Your father was as like you are now as twa peas in a pod. The same grand way wi' him and as touchy as gunpowder. Many the night he would come in and let fly at me if things werna to his taste. But I stood up to him in a' his rages! I'm pleased to think on that." She paused, her look becoming distant. "I can see it like it was yesterday. Man, he was proud, proud as Lucifer."

"And had he not reason to be proud?" he exclaimed harshly, becoming aware that the drink was not taking her the way he had expected, that she was ceasing to amuse him. "Do ye not know the stock he came from?"

"Oh, ay, I kenned a' about that, lang syne," she tittered spitefully, filled by a heady, rancorous imprudence. "He had the airs o' a duke, wi' his hand me this and reach me that, and his fine clothes, and his talk o' his forbears and what his rights were if he but had them. Oh! He was aye splorin' about his far back connection wi' the Wintons. But I often wonder if he believed it hisself. There's a' kinds o' connections," she sniggered, "and 'tis my belief that the lang syne connection was on the wrang side o' the blanket."

He glared at her, unable to believe his ears, then finding his tongue, he shouted:

"Silence! Silence, ye auld bitch! Who are you to talk like that about the Brodies? Ye bear the name yerser now. How dare ye run it down before me," and he grasped the neck of the bottle as though to hurl it at her.

"Now, now, Jims," she drivelled, quite unperturbed, raising one uncertain, protesting hand, "ye mustna be unreasonable. I'm not the kind o' bird that files its ain nest this is a' atween the family, so to speak and ye surely know it was a' gone intill and found out that the whole trouble began lang, lang syne, wi' an under-the-sky affair atween Janet Dreghorn, that was the heid gardener's daughter, and young Robert Brodie that cam' to the title mony years after. Na! Na! They were never bound by ony tie o' wedlock."

"Shut your blatterin' mouth," he roared at her. "If ye don't, I'll tear the dirty tongue out o' it. You would sit there and miscall my name like that! What do you think ye are? Ye were lucky my father married you. You you " He stammered, his rage choking him, his face twitching as he looked at her senseless, shrunken features. She was now completely intoxicated, and unconscious equally of his rage and of Nessie's frightened stare, continued:

"Lucky!" she babbled, with a drunken smirk, "maybe I was and maybe I wasna, but if ye kenned the ins and outs o' it all, ye might think that ye were lucky yoursel'!" She broke into peals of shrill laughter, when suddenly her false teeth, never at any time secure and now dislodged from her palate by her moist exuberance, protruded from between her lips like the teeth of a neighing horse, and impelled by a last uncontrollable spasm of mirth, shot out of her mouth and shattered themselves upon the floor. It was, in a fashion, a fortunate diversion, for otherwise he must certainly have struck her, but now they both gazed at the detached and scattered dentures that lay between them like blanched and scattered almonds, she staring with collapsed grotesque cheeks and shrunken, unrecognisable visage, he with a muddled amazement.

Дата добавления: 2015-08-20