The Secret Journey (16 page)

Desmond Fury got up and went to the door. That door would have to have a new lock and a new knob. ‘I suppose it'll have to come out of the petty cash, seeing that swine of a landlord only gave us the place on his own particular style of lease.' Then he thought, ‘Five minutes more and I might have been off.' He opened the door so quickly and so violently that the person holding on to the knob was half swung into the room.

‘Hello!' he said. ‘Well! I'll be …' He seemed to stagger back towards the desk against which he leaned, whilst open-mouthed he stared at his visitor. The woman stood in the corner by the table which held the card-index boxes. ‘You!' exclaimed Desmond. ‘Well, I'll be jiggered.' He stared at the visitor, bewildered as though somehow he couldn't believe it—couldn't acknowledge the presence. Then he rushed to the door and kicked it shut. ‘Well!!' He went up to the woman. ‘Maureen! This is surprising. What brings you here? How on earth did you find me out?' Without giving his sister any time to reply he caught her in his arms and gave her a resounding kiss full on the mouth. ‘Maureen!' he kept saying. ‘This is most surprising. But do sit down.'

Maureen Kilkey sat down rather gingerly on the corner of the chair. Judging by her demeanour she wasn't to stay very long. She looked at her brother. Like her mother, she hadn't seen Desmond since his marriage. ‘You're looking very pleased with yourself,' she said, straightening out her skirt, which had become ruffled. She was wearing a red tam-o'-shanter, seated rather rakishly on one side of her head. Her red, fuzzy hair caught the light so that it shone like a flame. She was wearing a green skirt and white blouse. Her long brown coat, with a large patch on the left sleeve, was open. She looked hot and tired. ‘My God!' she said; ‘what a place to put yourself in!'

Desmond laughed. ‘I go where I'm put, and I never complain.' He pulled a watch from his pocket and said quite casually, ‘I haven't got long, Maureen.' He sat looking at her. He might never have seen her before. She seemed quite a stranger. ‘Well, I believe you have a little boy now. What's he like?' He pulled his chair along the floor and leaned forward, his large hands clasped and resting on Maureen's knee.

‘Oh, he's a nice kid,' she replied. ‘You'll like him. But who told you about it? I'm curious to know.'

‘Mother!' said Desmond. He seemed to enjoy watching her face. ‘Yes, Mother.'

‘When? Mother! You saw Mother?' exclaimed Mrs. Kilkey.

‘Yes, but do sit still,' said Desmond gruffly, ‘and do sit in the chair as though it were a chair and not a red-hot plate. Why shouldn't she have told me? Who else would have done? You? But still, that's a small matter. The real matter is this. What brings you here, hunting me up after all this time? I hope we shall understand one another as well as Mother and I did. Anyway, let's have it. What's all the excitement about?'

Maureen Kilkey said quietly, ‘I want you to help me, Desmond.'

The big man looked straight into his sister's eyes and said, ‘Is this Mother?'

‘No! it has nothing to do with Mother. It's me. I want you to help me. Can I explain?' She seemed uncertain about her position, then added quickly, ‘You don't seem very interested.'

Desmond laughed. ‘Perhaps not. It all depends on what kind of a surprise you have up your sleeve. When anybody from Hatfields or Price Street wants help, one can guess at a glance what it is. I seem to know already what you want.'

‘I should have thought you had forgotten all about the people in Hatfields and the help they want occasionally, at least by now,' and she flung him a glance that was at once vicious and sharp as a rapier-thrust. Desmond said nothing. She went on, ‘At least my eyes tell me as much.'

‘Then be more careful with your eyes,' replied Desmond rudely. ‘They mightn't light on what is always good for them. I know what you've come here for. But let me tell you at once that you've arrived at the wrong shop. This isn't a philanthropic institution. It's a Trade Union branch. The only thing we supply here is education. D'you understand? This is one of those places where people can't get what they want. Everybody wants something, it's true. All we can do for people is to tell them how best to go about getting what they want. But you're different, you want something for nothing. That's it, isn't it? You want …'

‘Yes, I want money,' said Maureen. ‘Desmond, can't you help me? I'm in a fix too, we're all in a fix. Oh, you don't understand, but in a few minutes I can tell you everything. Do please listen.' She caught her brother's arm. She almost touched his heavy, fleshy face with her mouth, ‘Can't you listen?'

Desmond gently removed her arms. ‘Now listen to me. I've been here all day—all day, and it's now time for me to be off. This afternoon I bumped into Mother—not an hour ago; and now you're here. Why shouldn't I think there was something fishy about it? We had a cup of tea together. In five minutes she'd gone again. I was glad. It was rather uncomfortable, I can tell you!'

‘Yes,' snapped Maureen, ‘I should think it was. But this matter has nothing to do with Mother at all. Honestly it hasn't.' She rose to her feet. ‘It's my fault. But also it's that other bloody fool I married. The …'

‘Maureen!' Desmond leaned forward on his desk. ‘Things don't seem to be going too well down in your establishment. Now listen to me. If you're in any trouble, I'm sorry about it. Very sorry. But there the matter ends. I've always made it a rule to mind my own business. D'you see? I'm not the least bit interested in anybody else's. Mind you,' he went on smilingly, ‘there are exceptions. If you had come here to introduce a few new members to the books—now that would have been worth while. You see, that's the only business I'm interested in, Maureen. Don't forget that. I didn't reach these conclusions without having learned lessons first. The world looks a very nice place from here—from this office—but it never looked the same from my room-window in Hatfields. Remember my room, Maureen? Tell me what you want exactly. Not that I'm going to do anything, but quite naturally now you're here I might as well know.'

‘I want money,' said Maureen, ‘and I want it as quickly as possible.'

‘Oh! I see. Well, I admire your optimism,' said Desmond. He seemed to speak out of the corner of his mouth. He looked at the drawer wherein reposed the tin box containing the month's subscriptions. Then he looked at his watch again. By right he should really count that money, check it up against the books, and deposit it in the bank. But with this visitor it seemed diplomacy to let it rest there. He must wait until she had gone.

‘D'you think I'm a millionaire?' exclaimed Desmond. ‘It's two years since we have seen each other, and here we are; everything's the same. The same old bloody cry. Money. Isn't Mother in this business? Don't say she isn't, for I'll never believe you. Now tell me. You see, I have to go at five o'clock. I'm a busy man.' He pushed aside his chair, and stood up. Maureen burst into tears.

‘Oh, chuck it, for Christ's sake. It seems to be all the artillery the workers have. Bloody tears. People come here every day, crying, crying their hearts out—aye, crying their guts out. We're used to it. But what can we do? Only one thing. Socialize the country, and then there won't be any more crying. That's logical enough. Stop it. I hate women crying. It always makes me want to be sick. I can't help you with any money. I haven't got any. I have a wife and home to keep like everybody else, and I'm not getting a Prime Minister's salary either. A few shillings more than what I used to get for sweating like a bloody mug on the Length—but still'—he got quite excited and even laughed. ‘Still, I'm moving. I don't intend to moult long in Royalty House. Maureen, although I can't help you, I'd like to know the exact reason for this visit. It's so suspicious. Right on top of Mother's too. My head's going round, from sheer dizziness.'

Maureen could not answer him. She buried her face in her hands and went on crying.

‘Listen,' said Desmond angrily, ‘there are other offices besides mine here. And the whole damned building can hear you. Can't you be sensible?'

‘I'm your sister, aren't I?' growled Maureen in a broken voice, speaking through her fingers. She wanted to get up and shake this man. This great, hulking brother who sat like stone; who laughed at her discomfort.

‘Yes, but everybody may not think that. You know what people are.'

Maureen jumped up and faced him.

‘You bloody hypocrite!' she shouted. ‘One time you wouldn't have cared two hoots about people and their opinions.'

‘Quite so,' replied Desmond calmly, quite unruffled by this display of feeling. ‘But, as I said, things are different.' He crossed the room. ‘Maureen,' he said, ‘I'm sorry about this. But what can I do? Nothing. Even if I could, I don't know anything about this matter. Just what is it? Isn't Mother in this too? I didn't bump into her to-day just for nothing.' He pressed a big finger on the desk and smiled.

‘Haven't I told you it hasn't anything to do with Mother at all? Can't you believe me? I'm not interested in her business. I am here to ask you to help me.'

‘Yes. You see, I'm a person who has never trusted anybody—not even Mother. Maybe it's in my nature. I'm suspicious. I'm always on my guard.'

‘Are you?' and Maureen burst out laughing.

‘What are you laughing at?' he said sharply.

‘Nothing. I want money, and I must have it now. Won't you help me, please?'

‘How much do you want?' asked Desmond, and somehow he saw in the expression upon his sister's face the realization that he was going to disappoint her.

Yet she said quite calmly, ‘Twenty-five pounds. I must have it to-day—must!'

‘Christ! What is all this damned business?' The man's whole manner changed at once. He jumped to his feet and began walking up and down the room, his hands clasped behind his back.

‘Really!' he said. ‘Really! What a hope you have! I thought you were going to ask me for a pound. Maureen, you've come to the wrong place. It's the Bank of England you want. You've lost your way.' He began to laugh. ‘Who sent you here to me—of all people? Who was it?'

‘Nobody sent me.'

‘What about your husband—doesn't he know?' Desmond leaned against the door and thrust his hands into his waistcoat. ‘I—oh, hang it. Really, I want to laugh. Am I the only person you can think of? And who is the money for?'

Maureen got up from the chair and went and stood by the desk.

‘A moneylender,' she said, and suddenly she was trembling. ‘Desmond, help me. You have money, I know you have. You have money here.' She banged the desk with her clenched fist. ‘Why are you so mean and bitter about people? We might be strangers.'

‘You seem quite desperate, Maureen. But being desperate doesn't give you any right to expect that just because you come here kicking up a scene about money, and just because you are my sister, I am suddenly going to fill your pockets with money. Oh no! The money in that desk—I'm still wondering how you guessed it was there—the money there is made up of pennies and sixpences and shillings. The money of poor men. Don't you understand? Have you no principle? That's what you are asking, isn't it? The money of these honest men. Did you imagine I would fall on my knees and give it you? And what if a moneylender wants it? Let her want. People come here every day with the same tale. But they only get the same reply from me. You see, Maureen, all these troubles with moneylenders would cease, and will cease, the day when people in Gelton are assured of something better than everlasting misery. How did you manage to get tied up with such a person? I can't understand. You're like Mother. You get into a hole, but you do it secretly, until you suddenly find you can't get out of it—then you shout out to all the world to help you out. I'll do anything else I can—but money I haven't got. Besides,' he went on, as he came forward and sat on the desk beside her. ‘Besides, Maureen, I don't like it. It's two years since we saw each other. You were just like the rest of the family when I married Sheila. You turned your back on me, and now you come here like this. It's quite useless arguing like this. I must go now. I am a busy man, and have other things to do. Is there anything I can do other than what you ask?'

‘No! Now I wonder why I ever bothered to come here. You are a strange creature. Hardly a brother. You haven't an ounce of warmth or affection for anybody but yourself. You were always like that. God! I wish I could be the same.'

‘Don't start crying again, please. It's an absurd position, really. Come, I must be off.'

He took her hands and drew her away from the desk. Then he took out the tin box and put it on the desk.

‘Ready?' he asked, picking up the box and putting it under his arm. He went across and stood under the gas-light. ‘Ready?'

Without replying, Maureen walked slowly out of the office. Desmond put out the light. The door slammed; a key turned in the lock. They began groping their way in the darkness, Maureen holding on to her brother's arm.

Yet he hardly sensed its presence there.

‘Careful,' he said when they reached the second flight of stairs. At last they reached the bottom. They stood in the darkness, looking at each other. Desmond Fury took her hand.

‘Maureen! This is how it is. I have left Hatfields for good—and all that Hatfields represents. After two years, I was beginning to feel that at long last everybody had accepted the fact that I'm absolutely finished with that kind of life. Understand me. You see, I look one way—you look another, so does Mother. Affection and brotherly love don't come into it at all. Meeting like this makes it awkward for both of us. You see, when you go off you'll roundly curse me for my indifference, but it's not indifference at all, but common sense. I have responsibilities, but they have nothing to do with anybody in Hatfields. I have my own life to live, and frankly, I don't want to be interfered with any longer, and that's all I have to say.'