‘Rosie, I’m trying to spare your feelings.’
‘Thanks! It’s a bit late for that.’
‘All right, I should have told you. I’ve been sending twenty pounds on the first of each month. Michael will be starting school soon.’
‘I don’t want to hear about him.’
‘As you wish.’
He took her at her word. She was glad of a minute or two’s respite. She busied herself with the herrings she was grilling and tried to look unconcerned. She didn’t speak again until she put the plate in front of him.
She said, ‘What are you going to do about the bank?’
‘I’ll speak to Roberts. Have to go and see him, I suppose. How did he sound on the phone?’
‘I’ve no idea. I mean I was too shocked to notice.’
‘I’ve got a bit in National Savings. And I might be able to raise something on the insurance.’
‘Where does that leave me if you drop dead?’
‘What else do you suggest?’
‘Why don’t you pawn my wedding ring? It doesn’t mean a thing to me any more.’
‘This isn’t like you, Rose.’
‘Oh, dry up, will you?’ ‘Do you want a divorce?’
‘So that you can clear off and marry your tart and settle all your problems? Smart thinking, Barry. I’ve got to hand it to you — you’re no fool, whatever else you are. No, I don’t want a divorce. It would just about kill my parents, and you know it. Better think again.’ They finished the meal in silence.
Barry drew aside the bedroom curtains in the morning about 6.30 as he always did. There was heavy condensation on the glass so he used the sleeve of his pyjamas to wipe one of the panes clear. ‘Bloody hell!’
Rose stirred under the bedclothes.
‘What is it now?’
‘Come and see.’
‘It’s too cold.’
His voice took on an odd, shrill note. ‘I won’t stand for this. It’s enough to turn your stomach. I’ll get on to the council. See if I don’t. Bloody liberty. As if we haven’t got enough to put up with.’
When Barry had gone out to the bathroom, Rose slipped out of bed and went to the window. She, too, was profoundly disturbed by what she saw. She had heard some workmen hammering the day before and she had assumed they were fencing off the bomb site to keep the children from playing there.
They had erected a vast hoarding filled with the white face of a woman, a face unmistakably stricken with grief. Her pallor was set against the black hat with drapes and veil and the black high-necked dress that she wore. The lips were bloodless and the grey eyes stared upwards, focusing on nothing. The slogan under the face was ‘KEEP DEATH OFF THE ROAD’. Under it, in smaller lettering, ‘Carelessness Kills’.
6
The next Friday afternoon about half past five Rose opened the door to a man with a bicycle pump tucked under his arm like a swagger stick. He raised his hat. The horrid poster behind him was gleaming in the lamplight, throwing him into silhouette.
‘Mrs Bell?’
‘Yes.’
‘Smart.’ As if no more was needed to be said he stooped to remove his cycle clips.
Rose held on to the door. The metal plate on their door-post to discourage hawkers and circulars had gone in the bombing, and she was wary of being pestered. It was a nuisance having a front door that opened directly on to the street.
He stood up straight and stepped closer. ‘Arnold Smart. Don’t you remember?’
Faintly she did. There was something about the nasal twang in the voice.
‘I call once a month to collect the premium. Your husband usually comes to the door.’
‘Oh, insurance.’
‘Obviously I’ve come at an awkward moment, but as your husband mentioned some urgency in the matter...’
‘Is that so?’
‘... I thought I’d drop the form in now. Isn’t he at home?’
‘He’s always late on Fridays. I’ll give him the form if you like. What is it exactly?’
He fingered his necktie. ‘Might I step inside and wait? I don’t wish to be a nuisance but I’d like to offer him some professional advice if I may.’
‘I don’t expect him until ten at the earliest.’
‘Ten? That is rather late. I’d better come back another day. I do think a word in confidence might be advisable.’
She lost her patience. ‘For heaven’s sake, what’s all the mystery for? I’m his wife. He doesn’t do anything without consulting me.’
‘You’ve discussed this with him?’
‘Frequently.’
‘Forgive me, then. I wasn’t aware of that. It’s entirely up to Wing Commander Bell, of course, but I’d weigh the advantages very carefully before surrendering a policy as valuable as his.’
Alarm bells sounded in her head, but she managed to give the impression she’d heard nothing new. ‘You mean cashing it in? What’s wrong with that?’
‘It’s a lot to sacrifice for a short-term gain. You’d get only a fraction of the five thousand you would realize on maturity — or if anything should happen to him. Far be it from me to frighten you, but I’m constantly hearing of good men struck down in their prime. None of us knows what fate has in store for us.’
‘I’ll mention it. Perhaps we ought to think again.’
‘I strongly recommend that you do. If it’s a temporary difficulty you have, we could talk about a loan of equivalent value.’
‘Yes, why don’t you come back and talk to my husband another evening?’
‘The earliest I could manage is next Thursday.’
‘That would be much more convenient. Why don’t you keep the surrender form until then?’
He lifted his hat again and returned to his bicycle, propped against the kerb. He fastened the pump in place, put on the clips and pedalled away, past the great, pale face of the widow.
Rose returned to the kitchen, pulled a chair from the table and said aloud, ‘You bastard, Barry. You stinking rotten bastard.’
He’d meant what he said. He was about to sell off her security. If he dropped dead and she was uninsured, she would be left with nothing but his debts.
Their marriage had become a mockery long before Barry had disclosed the existence of his second family. He’d said a number of times that Rose could have a divorce, knowing, of course, that it would break the hearts of the two dear people she had left in the world to love. For her parents’ sake she’d resolved to endure a loveless marriage to a faithless man. She’d made that decision when Barry had finally admitted to picking up women for sex. She’d lived with that humiliation long enough.
Now he had discovered that he couldn’t keep two homes, two women and a child on his pathetic income. He proposed to surrender the insurance to pay off the overdraft. Deluded idiot. What would that achieve? The demands would only increase. The boy was growing up, starting school soon. Obviously it suited Stella Paxton to pester Barry relentlessly, destroy the marriage and take him as her husband.
Rose wanted to say, take the swine, you’re welcome to him, yet there remained the sticking point. Because she would not consider a divorce whilst her parents were alive, she faced not only humiliation and hurt, but insolvency.
Since the war ended she’d suffered a steep drop in her standard of living to satisfy Barry’s pride that he could support a wife. She’d made do with shapeless Utility clothes. Hadn’t been to a hairdresser’s. Hadn’t been taken to the pictures or a dance. Her sacrifices had helped to pay the premiums on that insurance. She would have enjoyed going out to work if he hadn’t made such an issue about it shaming a man. Too late now. Any money she made would go the same way as the rest.
Realistically, nothing short of Barry being killed could make any difference. Antonia had the solution — if she was serious.