Catherine Cookson - The Gambling Man

She was saying, ‘You’ve never asked what I’ve been doing all day today?’

‘What have you been doing all day today?’

‘Nothing. Nothing much. But . . . but I have two things to tell you.’

‘Two things? Well, get on with them. What are they?’

She pulled herself gently from his arms, saying now, ‘Don’t be disturbed, but Jimmy came this afternoon. One . . . one of the boats has been sunk . . .’

He was sitting on the edge of the couch now. ‘Why . . . why, didn’t you tell me this afore?’

She placed her hands on his shoulders, saying, ‘Be quiet. Don’t get agitated. I’ve seen to it.’

‘Where’s Jimmy now?’

‘Where he always is, in the boathouse.’

‘Look, I’d better go down, he shouldn’t be there alone. I’ll . . .’

‘I told you I’ve seen to it. Mr Richardson is staying there with him.’

‘The boat . . . what happened to the boat?’

‘A plank had been levered from the bottom.’

‘And it would have been full. He was transporting for Watson yesterday.’

‘Yes, it had on the usual cargo.’

‘And it all went to the bottom?’

‘They salvaged it. I went back with Jimmy; you hadn’t been gone half an hour.’

He pulled himself up from the couch and began to pace back and forth in front of the fire, grinding out between his teeth, ‘Those bloody Pitties!’ He never apologized for swearing in front of her, nor did she ever reprimand him. ‘If they’re not stopped they’ll do murder. Something’s got to be done.’ He was standing in front of her, looking down at her now, and she said quietly, ‘Something will be done; I’ve seen to that as well. I . . . I called on the Chief Constable. I told him of our suspicions. Of course you cannot accuse anyone unless you have absolute proof, but I knew by the little he said that he was well aware of the Pitties’ activities and would be as pleased as us to convict them. And he said something that I found very interesting. He ended by saying it was difficult of course to catch little fish when they were protected by big fish. What do you make of that?’

He rubbed his hand tightly along his jawbone. What do I make of it? Just that it links up with what I was saying earlier: there are some respectable people in this town leading double lives . . . big fish behind little fish.’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Who would be protectin’ the Pitties? Only somebody who wants to use them. And what would they use them for? What’s their job? Running freight, anything from contraband whisky, silk, baccy, or men . . .’

‘Or maidens? As you were saying earlier.’

He nodded at her. ‘Aye, men or maidens, anything.’ He bowed his head and shook it for a moment before saying, ‘What I’m really frightened of is, if they should go for Jimmy. He’s no match for any of them, although he’s got plenty of guts. But guts aren’t much use against them lot, it’s guile you want.’

‘If you are so worried about him then you must make him come here to sleep.’

He gave a weak smile and put his hand out and touched her shoulder, saying, ‘That’s nice of you, kind, but I doubt if he would.’

‘Why not? He’s got over his shyness of me, he’s even, I think, beginning to like me. It gives me hope that your family may well follow suit.’

He turned from her and went towards the mantelpiece. And now he looked up into the face of her great-grandfather, and he thought, That’ll be the day. That pig-headed lot. Even Ruth was included in his thoughts now.

Jimmy, acting as a kind of go-between, had arranged that he should take her up one Saturday, and because she also demanded it, but much against the grain, he had complied. And what had happened? Nothing. She had sat there trying to talk her way into their good books, and how had they responded? By staring at her as if she were a curio.

Later, she had remarked, ‘I think your mother is a gentle creature.’

His mother. That was one secret he had kept to himself. She knew everything about him but that, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that the slight, quiet, little woman, with a dignity that was all her own, was not his mother. His mother was the woman he had introduced to her by merely remarking, ‘This is Lizzie,’ and explaining later that she was his father’s cousin. Why was it that some things were impossible to admit to? He felt as guilty at being Lizzie’s son as if it were he himself who had perpetrated the sin of his conception.

Damn them! Let them get on with it. It was Jimmy he was worried about, and those bloody Pitties were beginning to scare him. Little fish protected by big fish!

He turned to her. ‘I’m goin’ down,’ he said.

‘All right.’ She rose from the couch. I’ll go with you.’

‘You’ll do nothing of the sort. It’s coming down whole water now.’

‘If you’re going down there tonight I’m going with you.’

He closed his eyes for a moment; he knew that tone. ‘Well, get your things on.’ His voice was almost a growl.

As she was walking towards the door, she said, ‘I’ll tell Stoddard.’

‘No, no.’ He came to her side. ‘You don’t want to get the carriage out at this time of night. And he’ll be settled down. I meant to walk.’

‘All right, we’ll walk.’

‘Oh, woman!’

‘Oh, man!’ She smiled at him and tweaked his nose, then left the room smiling.

Half an hour later they went up the steps and into the boathouse and startled Jimmy and Mr Richardson who were playing cards.

‘Oh, hello.’ Jimmy slid to his feet; then looking from one to the other, he asked, ‘Anything wrong?’

‘Not at our end; what about this end? What’s this I’m hearin’?’

‘Oh that.’ Jimmy nodded, then said, ‘Well, it’s done one thing.’ He was looking at Charlotte now. The river polis have been past here three times to my knowledge this afternoon. That’s . . . that’s with you going down there. Hardly seen them afore. That should warn the bug . . . beggars off for a bit.’

‘Aye, for a bit.’ Rory pulled a chair towards Charlotte. She sat down, and what she said was, ‘Have you plenty to eat?’

‘Oh aye.’ Jimmy smiled at her. ‘Lizzie’s been down this afternoon an’ baked. She feeds me up as if I was carryin’ tw . . .’ He swallowed and the colour flushed up over his pale face as he amended Lizzie’s description of pregnancy, carrying twins for eighteen months, with ’cartin’ coals to Newcastle.’

As he looked at Charlotte he saw that her eyes were bright, twinkling. She had twigged what he was about to say. It was funny but he liked her, he liked her better every time he met her. He could see now what had got their Rory. When you got to know her you forgot she was nothing to look at. He had said so to Lizzie this very afternoon when she was on about Rory, but she had come back at him, saying, ‘You another one that’s got a short memory? I thought you used to think the world of Janie.’ Well, yes he had, but Janie was dead. And he had said that to her an’ all, but what had she come back again with, that the dead should live on in the memory. She was a hard nut was Lizzie, she didn’t give Rory any credit for making life easier for the lot of them. Three pounds every week he sent up there; they had never been so well off in all their lives. New clothes they had, new bedding, and they ate like fighting cocks. If Lizzie kept on, and his ma too didn’t really soften towards Charlotte—he wasn’t concerned about his da’s opinion—he’d give them the length of his tongue one of these days, he’d tell them straight out. ‘Well,’ he’d say, ‘if you think like you do, you shouldn’t be takin’ his money.’ Aye, he would, he’d say that. And what would they say? ‘It isn’t his money, it’s hers’ . . . Well, it didn’t matter whose it was, they were taking it and showing no gratitude. For himself he was grateful. By lad! he was grateful. Three boats he had, but one without a bottom to it.