The Gambling Man

She began to smile slowly, then she nodded at him. ‘Yes, I see your point. Yes, I’ll invite him. If I’m not mistaken I’ll be meeting him next week; he’s a member of the Church Council. We’ll likely be sitting side by side in the vestry. Yes—’ she laughed outright now—‘I’ll invite him here, and enjoy it . . . that’s if he accepts the invitation.’

‘He will, after you’ve put it over in your own way . . . Huh! it’s a funny life.’ He leant back in the couch and she twisted her body round and looked fully at him.

‘How are you finding it?’

‘Finding what?’

‘Life, this funny life.’

Taking the pipe from his mouth, he said, ‘I’m liking this life fine, Mrs Connor. I never dreamed I’d like it so well.’

‘I wish I were beautiful.’ Her voice was low, and he pulled her suddenly towards him and encircled her with his arm, saying, ‘You’ve got qualities that beat beauty any day in the week. You’re the best-dressed woman in the town, too. Moreover, you’ve got something up top.’

‘Something up top?’ Her face was partly smothered against his shoulder. ‘I’d willingly be an empty-headed simpering nincompoop if only I . . . I looked different.’

Quickly now he thrust her from him and said harshly and with sincerity, ‘Well, I can tell you this much, you wouldn’t be sitting where you are now, or at least I wouldn’t be sitting where I am now, if you were an empty-headed nincompoop.’

‘Oh, Rory.’ She flung herself against him as any young girl might, and he lay back holding her tightly to him.

Hardly a week passed but he had to reassure her with regard to her looks. It seemed that she was becoming more conscious of her plainness as time went on, and yet strangely, he himself was actually becoming less aware of her lack of beauty as the days passed; there were even times when her whole face took on an attractive quality. Then there was her voice. Her voice was beautiful. He never tired listening to it, even when she was in one of her haughty moods, which were becoming rarer.

She was saying, ‘You’ve never asked what I’ve been doing all day today?’

‘What have you been doing all day today?’

‘Nothing. Nothing much. But . . . but I have two things to tell you.’

‘Two things? Well, get on with them. What are they?’

She pulled herself gently from his arms, saying now, ‘Don’t be disturbed, but Jimmy came this afternoon. One . . . one of the boats has been sunk . . .’

He was sitting on the edge of the couch now. ‘Why . . . why, didn’t you tell me this afore?’

She placed her hands on his shoulders, saying, ‘Be quiet. Don’t get agitated. I’ve seen to it.’

‘Where’s Jimmy now?’

‘Where he always is, in the boathouse.’

‘Look, I’d better go down, he shouldn’t be there alone. I’ll . . .’

‘I told you I’ve seen to it. Mr Richardson is staying there with him.’

‘The boat . . . what happened to the boat?’

‘A plank had been levered from the bottom.’

‘And it would have been full. He was transporting for Watson yesterday.’

‘Yes, it had on the usual cargo.’

‘And it all went to the bottom?’

‘They salvaged it. I went back with Jimmy; you hadn’t been gone half an hour.’

He pulled himself up from the couch and began to pace back and forth in front of the fire, grinding out between his teeth, ‘Those bloody Pitties!’ He never apologized for swearing in front of her, nor did she ever reprimand him. ‘If they’re not stopped they’ll do murder. Something’s got to be done.’ He was standing in front of her, looking down at her now, and she said quietly, ‘Something will be done; I’ve seen to that as well. I . . . I called on the Chief Constable. I told him of our suspicions. Of course you cannot accuse anyone unless you have absolute proof, but I knew by the little he said that he was well aware of the Pitties’ activities and would be as pleased as us to convict them. And he said something that I found very interesting. He ended by saying it was difficult of course to catch little fish when they were protected by big fish. What do you make of that?’

He rubbed his hand tightly along his jawbone. What do I make of it? Just that it links up with what I was saying earlier: there are some respectable people in this town leading double lives . . . big fish behind little fish.’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Who would be protectin’ the Pitties? Only somebody who wants to use them. And what would they use them for? What’s their job? Running freight, anything from contraband whisky, silk, baccy, or men . . .’

‘Or maidens? As you were saying earlier.’

He nodded at her. ‘Aye, men or maidens, anything.’ He bowed his head and shook it for a moment before saying, ‘What I’m really frightened of is, if they should go for Jimmy. He’s no match for any of them, although he’s got plenty of guts. But guts aren’t much use against them lot, it’s guile you want.’

‘If you are so worried about him then you must make him come here to sleep.’

He gave a weak smile and put his hand out and touched her shoulder, saying, ‘That’s nice of you, kind, but I doubt if he would.’