Catherine Cookson - The Gambling Man

‘Oh, Charlotte!’ He put his hand out and caught hers.

‘When do you think she’ll take proceedings?’

‘Tomorrow likely. The mood I left her in, she’ll waste no time. But you know something? In spite of all I know is going to happen, the scandal, the gossip, the papers, the lot: “Woman returns from the dead. Husband, married again, refuses to acknowledge her”—You can see them, can’t you, the headlines?— Well, in spite of it all, the moment I came back, the moment I stepped through the door and saw you sitting there I had the oddest feeling. It was strange, very strange. I can’t remember feeling anything like it before. It was a feeling . . . well, I can’t put a name to it, a sort of joy. No, no—’ he shook his head—I shouldn’t say joy . . . Certainty? No, I really can’t put a name to it, but I knew that every­thing was going to turn out all right. I thought, in a way it’s a good job it’s happened; well start a new life, you and me and him—or her.’ He placed his hand gently across the mound of her stomach, and she put her two hands on top of his and as she pressed them downwards she looked into his face and said, ‘I love you, I adore you. Blasphemy that, isn’t it? But to me you are my God.’

He now dropped on to his knees and, burying his face in her lap, murmured, ‘Charlotte, Charlotte, I’ll want no other but you ever, believe me . . .’

When there came the tap on the drawing-room door he turned round hastily and knelt before the fire and busied himself attending to it as Charlotte called, ‘Come in.’

Jessie closed the door softly behind her, came up the room, and, standing at the edge of the couch, she said, ‘There’s . . . there’s a man at the door, sir. He . . . he says he would like to speak to you.’

‘A man?’ Rory got to his feet thinking, My God she hasn’t lost much time. Did he give you his name?’

‘No, sir. He just said it was important, and . . . and he must speak with you. He’s a little man, very little, sir.’

A little man, very little. Who did he know who was very little? Only little Joe.

‘Where is he now?’

‘I’ve . . . I’ve left him in the lobby, sir. He’s . . . he’s a workman type.’

He looked down towards Charlotte. Then went swiftly past Jessie.

When he opened the hall door and looked into the lobby he was looking down on to little Joe.

‘Evenin’, Mr Connor.’

‘Hello, Joe. What’s brought you here?’ His voice was stiff.

‘Mr Connor, I’d . . . I’d like a word with you.’

‘I don’t need to be set-on any longer, Joe, you should know that.’ His tone held a slight bitterness.

‘Tisn’t about that, Mr Connor. I . . . I think you’d better hear me, and in private like; it’s . . . it’s important, very, I should say.’

Rory hesitated a moment, then said, ‘Come away in.’ He opened the door and let the little fellow pass him. He watched him as his eyes darted around the hall. Then he led the way to the office. Once there, he seated himself behind the desk and, motioning to a chair, said, ‘Sit yourself down,’ and when Joe was seated he said, ‘Well, let’s have it.’

‘I thought you should know, Mr Connor, but . . . but afore I tell you anythin’ I want you to believe that I wasn’t in on the other business when they done you over. They’re a dirty crew an’ they’ve got me where they want me, the Pitties an’ him—Nickle. But . . . but there’s some things I don’t stand for, and if they knew I was here the night me life wouldn’t be worth tuppence. But . . . but I thought you should know.’

‘Know what?’

‘Well.’ Joe stretched his feet downwards until his toes touched the carpet; then he leant forward towards the desk and, gripping it, he said under his breath, ‘They’re up to something. I just got wind of it a while ago. They’re gona get at you through your brother. I’ve . . . I’ve seen him. He’s not much bigger than me, and he’s got his own handicap, and . . . and I didn’t think it was fair ’cos of that, so I thought I’d come and tell you, ’cos you always played straight by me, never mean like some of them. And . . . and after that business when you didn’t drag me into it, and you could ’ave, oh aye, you could ’ave, I thought to meself, if ever . . .’

‘Get on with it, Joe. What are they up to?’ Joe now brought his hands from the table and, joining them together, he pressed them between his knees before he announced, ‘They’re gona burn you out.’

‘ Burn me out ? Here?’

‘Oh no, not here; they wouldn’t dare come up this way. No, the boatyard and the boathouse. Steve Mackin let it drop. They’d been to him for paraffin.’

‘What!’ Rory was on his feet and around the desk. ‘When?’

‘Oh, late on’s afternoon. I . . . I was payin’ him a bet and he said, “Poor little bastard.” ’ Joe now looked from one side to the other as if to apologize to someone for his language, then went on, ‘I said, “Who?’’ and he said, “Connor. Little bandy Connor. But what can you do against those three buggers?”

Rory was going towards the door now. ‘What time was this?’

‘Oh, an hour gone or more. I took a stroll by that way ’cos I thought if I saw him, I mean your brother, I would tip him off to keep clear like, but I saw big Pittie standing at the corner. He was talking to a fellow, just idling like, standing chattin’. But he doesn’t live down that end, and so I thought it wasn’t fair, Mr Connor, an’ so I came . . .’

They were in the hall now and the drawing-room door was opening.

‘What is it?’

‘I. . . I’ve got to go down to the boatyard. Nothing, nothing.’

Charlotte came up to him as he was taking his coat from the hall wardrobe and again she asked, ‘What is it?’ then added, ‘Oh, what is it now, Rory?’

‘Nothing.’ He turned to her, a faint smile on his face. This chap here, well—’ he thumbed towards Joe—‘he’s been kind enough to come and give me a warning. The Pitties mean business; I think they’re going to loosen the boats.’

‘Don’t go.’ Her voice was stiff now. ‘Don’t go, please. Let us go straight to the station; the police will deal with it.’

‘Now, now.’ He put his hands on her shoulder and turned her about, then led her towards and into the drawing-room. Once inside he closed the door, then whispered to her, ‘Now look, it’s nothing. All right, all right—’ he silenced her—‘I’ll get the police. I promise I’ll get the police.’

‘It’s dark; anything could happen; it’s dark.’

‘Look, nothing’s going to happen. Richardson’ll be there with him. He’s a tough fellow is Richardson. Now look, I’ve got to go. You stay where you are.’

‘No, let me come with you. Please let me . . .’

‘ No . No . Now don’t you dare move out of here.’ He opened the door and called, ‘Jessie!’ and when the maid appeared he said, ‘See that your mistress doesn’t leave the house until I get back. Now, that’s an order.’

The girl looked from one to the other, then said, ‘Yes, sir. Yes, sir.’

He turned again to Charlotte and, putting his hand out, he cupped her chin and squeezed it before hurrying towards the door, where little Joe was standing.

The little fellow cast a glance back towards Charlotte, touched his forelock and said, ‘Evenin’, ma’am,’ and she replied, ‘Good evening.’ Then he sidled out quickly after Rory.

They hadn’t reached the bottom of the steps before Charlotte’s voice came after them, crying, ‘Wait for the carriage!’

‘I don’t need the carriage. Go back inside. Do what you’re told.’ His voice trailed away as he hurried down the drive.