with her, and with John too.’
‘John won’t raise any objections if you don’t.’
Hector stared at his wife after saying this. A murky corner of his brain seemed to clear up. She was backing him; she was standing by him; and because she was backing him he wouldn’t have to sneak away like a coward. She was taking all the moral responsibility off his shoulders.
‘By God, Elizabeth,’ he said, ‘you understand me better than anybody!’
It was a sincere tribute to the impersonation of the Noble Wife. A lump rose in Elizabeth’s throat, but she returned his look unwaveringly.
There was one curious consequence of this interchange. Both Hector and Elizabeth felt embarrassed when they kissed each other.
ELEVEN
On the same Friday Ned Murray was sitting over his midday dinner, which, as had become his custom, he devoured alone after his brother and sister had left the room. The manse cat, a large black-and-white creature cherished by Teenie the maid, was sitting on the floor beside him, receiving portions of fish which Ned laid down with his fingers on the carpet.
The meal was usually conducted in silence. Teenie brought in the dishes, set them dumbly on the table, and forced herself to walk back to the kitchen instead of running. On this day, however, when she saw him feeding the cat so kindly she ventured a remark as she set the pudding down.
‘Tam’s in luck to-day.’
Ned looked at her hastily. There was still a remnant of fish on his plate, which he had intended to give to the cat, but he now crammed it into his own mouth, without a second glance at Teenie who was waiting to remove the plate. Thomas, a wise cat, knew that the piece of fish should have been his, and laid a paw on on Ned’s knee with an inquiring mew. Ned flung his knife and fork down with a clatter, pushed the cat away and started to his feet crying: ‘Self, self, self! That’s all you think about, is it?’ Thomas, in amazement, paused for a moment, and then as Ned continued to berate him fled to the kitchen.
Ned turned upon Teenie.
‘I might have known it. Another dodge. You’re all trying to live off me, the cat and all of you! Get out, do you hear? Get out!’
He pushed the palpitating girl into the kitchen, slammed the door upon her, locked it and put the key in his pocket. Having staved off aggression from that quarter he made himself finally secure by carrying his pudding up to his own room, where he locked himself in.
Sarah emerged from the sitting-room across the hall when she heard him go upstairs, and made for the kitchen. To find her kitchen door locked against her angered her more than such a trivial incident might warrant, and she rapped upon it loudly, calling: ‘Teenie! What’s the matter, Teenie? It’s me: open the door!’
Her anger increased to fury as she stood there holding the door handle, listening to Teenie’s muffled explanations. She felt that the whole economy not only of her household but of her life was in jeopardy. It was with a feeling of ‘now or never’ that she mounted the stairs, saying to herself: I’ll sort him.
She rattled Ned’s door, crying: ‘Give me the key of the kitchen door at once, do you hear? At once, or I’ll bring the police to you.’
Her voice was hard and full of decision: it betrayed no doubt of her ability to enforce her will, and its conviction penetrated to Ned. The door was unlocked and flung open. Ned glared at her, but he retreated a step, although he said: ‘Your impudence is beyond bounds. This is my room.’
‘Give me that key. How dare you intefere with Teenie?’
‘How dare she and all of you interfere with me?’
‘Hold your tongue!’ shouted Sarah. ‘Give me that key!’
It was the first time that she had ever shouted at her brother, and her passion seemed to sober him.
‘Oh, get out,’ he said in an exasperated but normal voice. ‘There’s your key.’
He flung it on the table and Sarah pounced on it.
‘If I find you doing such a thing again I’ll – I’ll thrash you within an inch of your life! And I’ll have you jailed.’
‘Get out, get out,’ repeated Ned, in a reasonable enough tone, urging her to the door as if she were demented and he in full command of his senses. ‘Get out of this; I have some work to do.’
‘Kindly give me your pudding-plate.’
‘Oh, take it, take it, take it. Is there anything else you want?’ inquired Ned ironically.
‘No nonsense from you, and don’t you forget it, my lad.’
Sarah slammed the door behind her and marched downstairs again. She freed her kitchen door and said to Teenie:
‘He won’t do that again. Don’t you worry; just leave him to me.’
Then she did an unheard-of thing: she invaded the study.
William was finishing a sermon on the text: ‘Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.’ The God of wrath and the God of love were incomprehensibly one and the same; it was not for His children on earth to question His doings….
The Book of Job lay open on the desk befor him; he was sitting with an idle pen, staring at a certain verse.
‘I must speak to you, William,’ said Sarah.
William’s heart contracted. Some fresh trouble?
‘Put your pen down and listen to me.’
What had happened to Sarah? William turned round in his chair.
Sarah was sharp and concise. This kind of nonsense could not go on, and she would not allow it to go on. To his astonishment William discovered that his wrestlings for the soul of his brother were included in Sarah’s definition of nonsense.
‘Either you leave him alone,’ she said, ‘or you back me up in my treatment of him.’
William began to grow angry. He found it easier nowadays to transform heaviness of heart into anger.
‘Do you know what you are talking about, Sarah?’ he said sternly.
‘I think I’m the only person in this house who has any sense at all of what I’m talking about. You’ve been preaching to Ned about sin and prayer and the will of God, and the only result is that he’s ten times worse than he was. You just drive him past himself, and it’s me who has to suffer for it. Arguing with him about sin isn’t of the slightest use: what he needs is discipline, not argument. I’m going to discipline him, and I want you to leave him alone.’
‘It’s my duty,’ began William, ‘as a minister of God’s Church’ he was going to say, but instead he turned to the desk again and hid his face in his hands. What was his duty? Was Ned visited by God’s wrath because of some secret sin? Or was the visitation incomprehensible, as in the case of Job? Ned had a lively conviction of other people’s sins, but not of his own. All Ned wanted, he said, was security, justice, a right place in the world; and was it his fault
