be some time afore Rory collects any more rents, that’s if ever. It’s God’s blessin’ he hadn’t any collection on him when they did him. Whatever they took from him, an’ that was every penny, it was his own.’
John George’s head was bent again and he now made a groaning sound.
‘Will you come in along of me and see him, I’m on me way? It’s the Infirmary.’
He rose to his feet, and stared at her, then like someone in a daze, he turned and made for the door.
‘Aren’t you stayin’ for a cup of tea, lad?’ It was Ruth speaking now.
He didn’t answer her except to make a slight movement with his head, then he went out leaving the door open behind him.
They both stood and watched him go down the path. And when he was out of sight they looked at each other in some amazement, and Lizzie said, ‘It’s broken him; he thought the world of Rory. It’s made him look like death itself.’
‘Get your shawl on and go after him.’ Ruth pointed to where the shawl was lying across the foot of Lizzies bed which was inset in the alcove. But Lizzie shook her head, saying, ‘He wants no company, something about him said he wants no company.’ She moved her head slowly now as she stared back at Ruth. ‘God knows, this has hit everyone of us but in some strange way him most of all. It’s strange, it is that. Did you see his face, the look on it? It was as if he himself was facing death. Me heart’s breakin’ at this minute over me own, yet there’s room for sorrow in me for that lad. Poor John George.’
7
Janie sat by the bed and gazed down on the face that she had always thought was the best looking of any lad in the town and she wondered if it would ever go back into shape again. Oh, she hoped it would, for, being Rory, he’d hate to be marked for life. And she couldn’t stand the thought either of him being disfigured; but as long as he was alive that’s all that really mattered. And he was alive, and fighting to keep alive.
He had opened his eyes once and looked at her and she thought that he had recognized her, but she wasn’t sure. His lips were moving continuously but all he kept saying was ‘Pity. Pity.’ There must be something on his mind that was making him think it was a pity, and she thought too that it was the greatest of pities that he had ever gone gaming because she had no doubt but that he had been followed from wherever he had played, and been robbed, and by somebody in the know; likely one of them he had played against. But as Jimmy said last night, they mustn’t breathe a word of it because if it got to Mr Kean’s ears that would be the finish of his rent collecting. You couldn’t be a gambler and a rent collector . . . And then there was this business of John George.
Eeh! she was glad to the heart that Rory didn’t know about that because that would really have been the finish of him. Of all the fools on this earth John George was the biggest. She couldn’t really believe it, and if the master hadn’t told her himself she wouldn’t have, but the master’s partner dealt with Mr Kean’s business. Odd, but she hadn’t known that afore. But still, she asked herself, why should she? Anyway, he had pricked his ears up when he heard that one of Mr Kean’s men had swindled him because, as he said, he knew that her intended worked for Mr Kean.
Rory’s head moved slightly on the pillow, his eyelids flickered, and she bent over him and said softly, ‘Rory, it’s Janie. How you feelin’, Rory?’
‘Pity,’ he said. ‘Pity.’
The tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks and she whispered, ‘Oh, Rory, come back from wherever you are.’ Then she said softly, ‘I’ve got to go now, I’ve got to get back, but I’ll come again the night. The mistress says I can take an hour off in the afternoon and evening. It’s good of her.’ She spoke as if he could understand her, then she stood up, whispering softly, ‘Bye-bye, dear. Bye-bye.’
Five minutes later she was turning off the main road and into Westoe when she saw the two dark- clothed figures of Ruth and Lizzie approaching. She ran towards them, and immediately they asked together, ‘You’ve been?’
‘Aye, yes.’
‘Any change?’
She looked at Lizzie and shook her head, then said, ‘He opened his eyes but . . . but I don’t think he knew me, he just keeps sayin’ that word, pity, pity . . . Have . . . have you heard about John George?’
‘John George? Was he in?’
‘No, Mrs Connor—’ she always gave Ruth her full title—’he’s . . . he’s been taken.’
‘Taken?’ They both screwed up their faces while they looked back at her. ‘Yes, for stealin’.’
‘John George!’ Again they spoke simultaneously. She nodded her head slowly. ‘Five pounds ten, and . . . and he’s been at it for some time.’
They were speechless. Their mouths fell into a gape as they listened. ‘Mr Kean was away and Miss Kean came early on, earlier than usual to collect the money. She was on her way to some place or other an’ she just called in on the off-chance. She had her father’s key and she opened the box and . . . and there was five pounds ten short from what was in his book. Apparently he had been doin’ a fiddle.’
‘
‘Yes. Aye, I couldn’t believe it either. It made me sick. But the master, he heard it all in the office. The solicitors, you know. He . . . he said he was a stupid fellow. I . . . I put a word in for him I did. I said I’d always found him nice, a really nice fella, and he said, ‘He’s been crafty, Janie. He’s admitted to using this trick every time he was sure Mr Kean wasn’t goin’ to collect the Saturday takings.’ Apparently he would nip something out then put it back on the Monday mornin’ early, but this time he was too late. And then he said nobody but a stupid man would admit to doing this in the past, then try to deny that he had taken five pounds ten. He wanted to say it was only ten shillings, and he had that on him to put back . . . He had just been to the pawn. They found the ticket on him.’
‘Oh God Almighty! what’ll happen next? Rory and now John George, an’ all within three days. It isn’t possible. But this accounts for his face, the look on his face when he came up yesterday. Eeh! God above.’ Lizzie began rocking herself.
‘It’s this lass that he’s caught on to, Lizzie.’ Janie nodded slowly. ‘Rory said he was barmy about her. He bought her a locket an’ chain at Christmas and he takes her by the ferry or train to Newcastle every week, then round the buildings. He’s daft about buildings. I never knew that till he told me one night. Then last week he gave her tea in some place. Yes, he did, he took her out to tea. And not in no cheap cafe neither, a place off Grey Street. An’ Rory said Grey Street’s classy.’
‘Women can be the ruin of a man in more ways than one.’ Lizzie’s head was bobbing up and down now. ‘But no matter, I’m sorry for him, to the very heart of me I’m sorry for him ’cos I liked John George. He had somethin’ about him, a gentleness, not like a man usually has.’
Ruth asked quietly, ‘Do you know when he’ll be tried, Janie?’
‘No, but I mean to find out.’
‘Somebody should go down and see him, he’s got nobody I understand, only those two old ’un’s. And you know, it isn’t so much laziness with them—’ Ruth turned now and shook her head at Lizzie—’it isn’t, Lizzie, it’s the rheumatics. And this’ll put the finish to them, it’ll be the House for them. Dear, dear
‘Lord!’—Ruth never said God—’You’ve got to ask why these things happen.’
The three of them stood looking at each other for a moment. Then Janie said, ‘I’ve got to go now, but I’m gettin’ out the night an’ all. The mistress said I can have an hour in the afternoon and in the evenin’s. She’s good, isn’t she?’
They nodded at her, and Lizzie agreed. ‘Aye, she’s unusual in that way. Bye-bye then, lass.’
‘Bye-bye.’ She nodded from one to the other, then again said, ‘Bye-bye,’ before running across the road and almost into a horse that was pulling a fruit cart, and as Lizzie watched her she said, ‘It only needed her to get herself knocked down and that would have been three of them. Everythin’ happens in threes, so I wonder what’s next?’
8
Janie had never before been in a court. She sat on the bench nearest the wall. At the far end of the room, right opposite to her, was the magistrate; in front of him were a number of dark-clothed men. They kept moving from one to the other, they all had papers in their hands. At times they would bend over a table and point to the papers. The last prisoner had got a month for begging, and now they were calling out the name: ‘John George
