BETH
Four years was quite enough for anyone. Correction. Four years was a damn sight too much for anyone. James Farthing let out his breath in a deep and only half suppressed sigh. He might have been able to stand it if it wasn’t for Friday afternoons. Friday afternoons and 5B. Or 4C. Or some other bloody number. In his mind, Friday afternoons were indissolubly linked with 5B, whatever the actual title of the class. It’s always 5B last lesson on a Friday, always in fiction, and apparently always in real life as well
It wasn’t even as though they were ever going to learn anything, not English language, not English Literature, not the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the causes of World War One. Some of his classes weren’t so bad, he admitted grudgingly. 5A for example, and some of the pupils made the job worthwhile. The trouble was, there weren’t enough of them. Starry eyed James Farthing, that was him, coming into the profession straight from university with the crazy idea of passing on some of his own passion for medieval literature and late Victorian history. Well, the idealism scarcely survived his probationary year. He had expected that to be tough, and it was. Unfortunately, so was every succeeding year. Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a teacher, in spite of the praise and encouragement he had met in the school. At any rate, he had had enough. Time to take up something else before he developed into one of the stalwarts of the teaching profession, dishing out advice to all and sundry, whether asked for or not. He thought he could do something better suited to his temperament. Not that there was anything wrong with teaching, but it wasn’t really for him. A knock on the staffroom door roused him from his thoughts. He lifted himself from the chair in which he had been brooding, and opening his locker, began to sort out the books and other belongings that filled it to overflowing, while a colleague went to answer the summons.
’It’s someone for you, James. One of your pupils.’
James cursed inwardly, but without any deep meaning, thinking that it was effectively for the last time. The last day of the school year, the last lesson finished, the last homework marked, the last pupil sent home. Another correction. Still one pupil without enough sense to go on holiday. Putting down a pile of books on a nearby table, he almost dragged his weary feet to the door, opened it and looked out to see a familiar figure.
’Oh, hello Beth. What can I do for you?’
Beth Crowe. He had taught her for the past four years, watching her grow from a petite and not quite gawky child to an equally petite and almost but not quite mature young woman. Attractive enough, although she always gave the appearance of being half starved and permanently younger than her birth certificate indicated. She was quite unlike some who seemed to have been born with fully developed minds centred about an arm’s length south of the usual seat of consciousness. Yet in a way, she always seemed to be older than the calendar would suggest, having a sense of responsibility beyond her years. Even at the age of twelve she had displayed that uncommon, yet highly desirable commodity. One of his star pupils from 5A, was Beth. Not the brightest, but a hard worker. Pretty fair examination results, taken all round. Stop it, James, he chided himself. You don’t work here any more. You don’t need to classify people in the same way.
’I’m glad I found you still here, sir,’ she said.
’You were lucky. Another five minutes or so, and I’d have gone home.’
’I just wanted to say goodbye and to thank you personally for all you’ve done. I know my exam grades weren’t the best in the school, but better than I’d hoped for anyway, thanks to you.’
’Just doing my job, Beth, but it feels good to be appreciated.’
’Oh, you are, sir. Very much so.’
’Indeed? You’re the only person who’s bothered to say so. Not that I’m looking for thanks. As I said, it’s been my job. That’s what I get paid for.’
’Just the same, this is my last day in school, and I didn’t want to leave without telling you. The school’s a bit far from my home, and I doubt if I’ll want to be bothered to pay a visit later. If it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t have got through any exam, I know that.’
’Well, I’m not so sure about that. Tell me, what do you intend to do now? Last time I spoke to you, you hadn’t made up your mind.’
’I still don’t know. I could go to college I suppose, but really I’m not so bright. Oh, you don’t have to kid me, Mr Farthing, I know what I’ve got in the way of brains. It’s hard work that’s got me as far as this. No, I’ll probably end up in a factory or a shop.’
’Get married. Have a dozen kids. Keep a teacher in work.’
She laughed. ’It’s a bit early for that, though I might even do it one day. Spread out over the years, of course. Maybe you will teach them, and can keep them in order by telling them you used to teach their mother.’
’A good many teachers say that, don’t they? I won’t though.’
’You can’t be certain, sir.’
’As it happens, I can. You see, this is my last day in school as well.’
’Is it? Where are you going?’
’Not far away, as it happens, but I’m leaving teaching. Actually, I’m going into business. It sounds rather grand, perhaps, but it’s just a bookshop, a very ordinary bookshop, over in Shelby.’
’Shelby?’ Beth exclaimed with delight. ’Why, that’s near to where I live. But of course, you know that. You took me home once after I’d had an accident.’
So he had. James Farthing remembered the incident well. She had had a fall on the sports field, and twisted her knee. As he happened to be free at that time, he offered to take her home in his car, a journey of some length as she lived on one of the new estates on the northern fringe of the town and quite close to the neighbouring town of Shelby, the school she attended having been built south of the centre. Rumours were flying of another school to serve the new estates, but so far nothing had come of it. During the journey, Beth’s knee had stiffened up making it impossible for her to walk. Mr Farthing, after knocking on the front door, and explaining the situation to a frail and tired looking woman, had carried Beth from the car into the house and put her down on the living room sofa, an easy task as she was incredibly light in weight.
’Is there anything I can do before I go back?’ he asked.
’Thank you,’ said Mrs Crowe, ’ but we’ll manage now. I used to be a nurse before I got married, and in any case, we have the clinic on the next block. I can take Beth there in the wheelchair if necessary.’
She felt the need to explain. ’It’s really for Mr Crowe. He has Parkinson’s disease and can’t get out unless somebody takes him. It’ll make a change for Beth to be pushed. She’s usually at the other end. She and her dad are very close.’
James left the house in a thoughtful mood. The situation in that house explained a lot about one of his pupils. The mother probably had more than she could manage with her husband. Pushing a permanent invalid in a wheelchair was no sinecure, especially such a heavy man, as he could see when he looked into the next room, fitted out as a bedroom. No wonder she looked so fragile and worn out.
Beth was still speaking to him. With an effort, James brought his thoughts back to the present. ’Sorry, Beth. I was miles away. You were saying?’
’I was just asking which bookshop you are taking. I might pop in one day and see how you are getting on.’
’It’s called Dobson’s, just at the back of the High Street, though I’ll probably change the name. Don’t forget to buy a book or two when you come. I’ll need the money.’
’I’ll remember that,’ she promised. ’But what made you decide on a bookshop? Or is that being too nosy?’
’Not at all. It’s really very simple. The previous owner is my uncle. I used to work for him during holiday times, so I know something of the business. Now he wants to retire, so he offered me the chance to buy the shop at a favourable price. Even then, it’s more than I have saved up, but I’ve got a loan from the bank, and there’s a flat attached to the premises so that saves on costs as well. It’s got a lot of potential, and I’m certain I can make it pay. I have plans for a rare books section, and a small childrens’ story corner for Saturday mornings, a second hand section and a good many other things as well. But forgive me. I mustn’t bore you with my enthusiasm. Especially since, at the moment, enthusiasm is all I have. I’m starting work there tomorrow, stripping it down, cleaning, repainting and reorganising the shelves ready for the new stock when it comes.’
’Hard work,’ Beth commented. ’You are going to be busy.’
’Yes, I will. On the other hand, I’ll be busy for my own benefit and that’s worth a lot.’
After Beth left, James looked around the empty staff room with a mixture of relief and nostalgia. In a way, it hadn’t been such a bad job, and he had even been able to save out of his none too generous salary. Enough, at any rate, to give him a start. The rest was very much up to him. His mind drifted to Beth as he made his way home. Nice girl, he thought, I always liked her. It was good of her to come and say goodbye. He understood her father hadn’t improved. On the contrary, he had got a good deal worse, and her mother gave the impression of being considerably older than her years. Understandably so, with such a burden. It was no easy task she had, even with Beth to help out.
The following morning found James in his shop, stacking books into a generous supply of cardboard boxes which he then carried to the flat, piling them in what seemed to be a reasonably logical order. A rattling noise attracted his attention.
’What on earth is that?’
More rattling came, then a series of knocks. Wondering, he made his way round the mass of books heaped on the floor and unfastened the latch on the shop door, opening it with some difficulty. A petite figure carrying a plastic bag, and dressed in trousers and sweater stood on the step.
’Hello, Mr Farthing. May I come in?’
’Beth. Why... yes. Yes, come in, though I’m hardly open for business yet.’
’Of course not,’ she said. ’I realise that, and if I hadn’t, I can see it with my own eyes. No, I just came to see if you could do with a bit of help. I’m not bad at cleaning, and I know how to use a paintbrush. Tell me what you want doing, and I’ll do it. Or at least, I’ll do my best.’
He stared at her, unable for a moment to speak.
’You can’t do all this on your own, and even if you could, the work goes better if there are two doing the job.’
He found his voice again.
’Well, that’s very kind of you, but there’s no need, you know. I mean, I can’t pay anything. It’ll be a while before the money starts coming in, if it ever does.’
’I’m not asking for payment. I have nothing to do until I find a job, and I can’t sit idle at home all day. Honestly, this would be a pleasure. May I?’
The pleading in her voice was impossible to ignore. James came to a decision.
’Very well, if you’re so intent, you can make me a cup of tea, no sugar and plenty of milk. The kitchen is over there, through the door on the right. There’s a pack of biscuits, and the cups are on the draining board. Make one for yourself and keep me company while I have a break. After that, we’ll see how good you are with a duster and a paintbrush. There’s a month’s work awaiting. At least a month. When we get fed up of working, I’ll treat you to dinner. That’ll be in a couple of hours.’
In two hours, they managed to pack, label and move every book from the shelves, though it was getting almost impossible to move around the flat. Beth left the shop, returning a few minutes later with a bag of steaming hot fish and chips which they ate straight from the newspaper while sitting on the floor, feeling as though they were on a picnic, chatting in a relaxed manner almost as though they were old friends instead of teacher and pupil. The afternoon was taken up with washing the walls and shelves, fortified with numerous cups of tea and chocolate biscuits. At last, James picked up the last buckets of dirty water and emptied them down the sink, heaving a heartfelt sigh as he did so.
’That’s the lot for today, Beth. Thank you very much indeed.’
’Oh, but I’ve enjoyed it.’
He surveyed her with a critical eye.
’I’m afraid your clothes are rather dirty even with that overall to cover them.’
’That’s all right. It’s only dust. They’ll wash when the job’s finished. Can I come back tomorrow?’
’If you really want to. What’s the boyfriend going to say about it?’
’What boyfriend? Nobody’ll come near. They’re all frightened of my dad.’
He cocked an eye at her in interrogation. She laughed shortly, but without mirth.
’Barmy Crowe, that’s what they call him, you know. Or Noddy the Gnome. Just because he shakes all the time. They think he’s crackers.’
’I’m sorry,’ said James quietly. ’Your family deserves better than that.’
’Well, who cares? If people want to be like that, I don’t want them in the house. It’s their problem, not mine.’
Perhaps, thought James, but it hurts just the same, doesn’t it, Beth? Your mother once said that you and your dad were very close. Certainly it hurts.
’So, what time do you want to see me tomorrow then?’ she said.
’Whatever time you want to come. I’ll make a start by eight at the latest. But shouldn’t you be helping out at home?’ He chuckled. ’Especially if there’s no boyfriend.’
’No, there’s nothing to do there. My dad’s in hospital while my mum has a break. I don’t think she wants to see anybody for a week. She’s quite happy just sleeping and eating when she feels like it. And in case you’re wondering, she knows where I am, and she doesn’t mind in the slightest.’
’No? Well, perhaps I had better come home with you and see her anyway.’
He overcame her objections and took her home. As she had said, it wasn’t very far from his shop, well within walking distance. He was invited in and spoke to Mrs Crowe.
’That’s all right, Mr Farthing. Beth told you the truth. My husband is in hospital at the moment for checks and treatment. It gives me a bit of a rest as well, and I don’t say I object to it. It doesn’t get any easier over the years. If Beth can find some sort of occupation during the holidays then I’m pleased. She doesn’t have a lot of friends, well truth to tell, she doesn’t have any. It’s not easy for her to bring anyone home, the way things are here.’
’Yes, I can understand that,’ said James. ’No, dammit, I can’t. This is when she needs friends.’
The older woman smiled tiredly. ’Ah well, she seems to have one in you.’
’All I’m doing is allowing her to work like a slave. Literally, because I have no money to pay for the work she’s done.’
’Just the same, it’s good for her. Better than staying in the house all day and worrying about her parents. She does worry, you know. She’s a good girl, Mr Farthing.’
’Yes,’ he said. ’I know that. But don’t forget that up to yesterday I was Beth’s teacher, or one of them at any rate. Some people might say that I’ve brought undue influence to bear on her. A teacher has to be careful in that way, especially a male teacher, especially where girls are concerned.’
’What difference does that make now? You couldn’t do it if she was still at school and if you still worked there, I can see that, but you’re not. If you and Beth want to be on friendly terms I don’t see what’s wrong with it. You’re not that much older than she is. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re doing nothing wrong, neither one of you. If you hear any complaints, they won’t come from this house, I can tell you.’
’No, but...’
’Look, Mr Farthing, if all you wanted was to chase after a bit of skirt too young to understand what you were up to, and put your hands in places where they don’t belong, I’d be the first to push you through the door, and I’m strong enough to do it too, but you’re doing nothing more than showing her a kindness, and for that reason alone, you’ll always be made welcome here. Unlike most, you don’t seem to mind meeting a mental cripple, even though he’s not here at the moment. Beth likes you well enough to bring you home, which she’s never done for anybody else and that says it all.’
’She didn’t exactly bring me here, Mrs Crowe. I insisted on coming, to explain what she was doing.’
’Oh aye? I rather thought that may be the way of it. Well, to my mind, that only makes you more respectable and even more acceptable. Beth love, go and make a pot of tea, will you?’
Beth left the room, closing the door behind her. Mrs Crowe turned to James again, with a serious expression on her face.
’Mr. Farthing, if you can use her, please do it. Work her hard, take her mind off things. Her dad’s in a bad way, and he’s never going to improve. I do know something about these things, and he hasn’t got long to go to my way of thinking. It’ll be a shock to the girl when he does, even though she knows he can’t live for ever. She’s never complained, not once, in all these years. She hardly remembers her dad as a normal man, and he’s kept me too busy to be able to give the time to Beth she needs. It’s not good for her to be tied down to an invalid father and a too tired mother. An outside interest will do her good. It was very kind of you to offer it.’
He smiled. ’As a matter of fact, I didn’t. Beth simply came to the shop and started helping. I wasn’t given a lot of choice. Having said that, I’m grateful for the help, and if she wants the work, there’s plenty more where that came from, just as long as it’s understood there’s no pay attached, other than a bit of food. At the moment, I have nothing spare. There’s nothing coming in until I open for business.’
’Nobody was asking for money, as far as I can see. It’s companionship a bit nearer her own age she’s needing more than anything, and I reckon she’ll get a bit of that from you.’ She smiled faintly. ’Even if you feel you are still her teacher.’
More rapidly than James had hoped, the shop took shape. Beth proved to be as good with a paintbrush as she had suggested, and had an eye for detail which made the finished job look almost professional. All the books were painstakingly replaced on the shelves, together with the new stock, a task that seemed to take an eternity. At last there was nothing more to do.
’Tomorrow is a day off,’ said James. ’And the rest of the weekend. I’m having a short holiday before starting work in earnest. Thanks to you, I can open for business a good deal earlier than I expected. I owe you something for that.’
’No you don’t, Mr Farthing. I’ve enjoyed helping out, really I have. You don’t owe me anything.’
’That’s what you think. I know better. I’ll tell you what, why don’t I take you out for a meal, a proper one this time in a restaurant with waiter service. I’ve given you quite enough food out of newspaper and foil dishes to last a lifetime. What do you say? Shall we relax in style?’
She considered shortly. ’All right. Yes please, I think I’d like that. I’ve never been in a restaurant before. The only thing is, you mustn't spend all your spare money on me. You’re going to need every penny.’
’There’s only one thing I want with me,’ he said,’ and that’s you. You see, I have something to tell you, and I can’t do that if you aren’t close enough to talk to.’
’I’m close enough now,’ she said, practically.
’True, but both of us are tired and weary with too much work. I think we need to be in more relaxed surroundings before I disclose the mystery, if you can wait that long.’
The visit to the restaurant was an undoubted success from the moment James called for Beth in his car. She was dressed in clothing that reflected the family circumstances, but which still managed to give the appearance of a young adult going out for the evening, rather than that of a schoolgirl on her first date. Hung around her neck was a small golden cross on a chain which set off the simplicity of the pale blue knee length dress she was wearing. The colour matched the smoky blue grey of the wide and innocent eyes in a thin cheeked face. No man needs to feel ashamed of being seen with her, thought James. She looks charming. No Miss Whatsit on Sea, but not unattractive, and she makes the most of what she has.
’Have a nice time, both of you,’ said Mrs Crowe. ’Don’t worry about the time you bring her back, Mr Farthing. We know she’s in good hands.’
A muffled gurgle came from the opposite corner of the room. On impulse, James crossed over and took a trembling hand between his own.
’Goodnight, Mr Crowe. I’ll look after her, don’t you worry.’
A series of sounds issued from the invalid’s mouth in an attempt to communicate, then the young couple were gone.
James had considerately booked a corner table where they couldn’t be overlooked by more experienced diners. To Beth, the whole restaurant offered a series of novel experiences, from the carved oak wall panels depicting various classical themes, some with a slightly erotic flavour which she did her best to ignore, to the food itself. She took delight in everything, commenting with intelligence, and asking innumerable questions, some of which James was hard pushed to answer. It had been, he thought, a good choice. Only the wine waiter looked disappointed when they refused to order from his list.
’I thought people always drank wine in a good restaurant,’ Beth said.
’Not always. I can’t, because I’m driving. You can’t because you’re too young.’
’Seventeen next month,’ she said.
’As I said, too young. Besides, I didn’t bring you here to fill you up with alcohol. Good girls who drink too much don’t stay good very long.’
She giggled. ’I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Mr Farthing. Or maybe I do, but I’m not confessing it. Anyway, I don’t really care for wine. I only ever take a bit at New Year, and that’s more to be polite than anything else.’
’Truth to tell, I don’t go in much for the stuff myself. I can think of better things to spend my money on.’
The food was excellent, but at last, she confessed she could eat no more, and would be satisfied with coffee only. James leaned forward and gazed at the girl.
’Now it’s time to tell you something,’ he said, speaking in a quiet voice which still carried over the soft music playing in the background. ’And to ask you something. I’ve been making enquiries, and I find that I can get financial support if I hire a certain class of person to work in the shop. A long term unemployed, for example. Or a school leaver. I’m coming to realise the need for someone else. It will be essential if I am ever going to get the childrens’ reading corner going, for example. It strikes me that you would fit the position ideally. Initially, it wouldn’t be for more than a few months, but if the business proves successful, then I could take you on permanently. What do you say, Beth? Would you like to come and work for me?’
Her face lit up with delight.
’Would I? Oh, Mr Farthing, I’d love to. I’d want to come and help out anyway, but if I’m going to be paid for it as well, just you try to hire somebody else and I’ll scratch their eyes out. Of course I’ll work for you. Oh, my dad will be pleased when I tell him.’
She looked doubtful. ’I tell him everything, you know. Well, I’m not sure how much he understands, but sometimes I think he can follow everything. At least he’s met you, and knows who you are. He can’t talk properly any more, as you know, but he sometimes makes little noises when he’s happy. That’s how I know he likes you. You’re the only visitor to the house who’s ever treated him like a human being. Most people can’t even look at him, you know.’
She reached across the table and squeezed his fingertips. Her eyes looked suspiciously moist, making them seem larger than ever.
’Thank you, Mr Farthing,’ she said. ’Thank you for everything.’
’There’s another thing, Beth. If you are going to work for me, I think we can cut out all this nonsense of Mr. Farthing. James is the name as I’m sure you know very well.’
’James. Jimmy?’
’Don’t you dare, or I’ll put you across my knee and spank you.’
He stiffened and cast his eyes downwards thinking, oh dear I shouldn’t have said that, it just slipped out. My peculiar sense of humour tends to get the upper hand if I’m not careful. I lost it there. He lifted his head slowly to regard a considering look set in a more than slightly pink face, chin resting on her cupped hand.
’If you meant that as a threat,’ she said, in a tone of voice that belied her chronological age, ’I don’t think I’ll take it seriously. You are too kind for that. If it was a promise, well be careful. I might hold you to it one day.’
James pushed his chair back and stood up. ’Time to take you home,’ he said. ’This conversation is taking a wrong turn.’
As they crossed the car park, she slipped her arm through his, and though dubious, he was happy to let it rest there. He bade her goodnight at the door, but made no attempt to kiss her. She went inside with a feeling of relief, coupled with a tinge of other, more disturbing sensations. In a way, she didn’t want to be kissed, not yet, but she was uncomfortably aware that she would have done nothing to prevent him from doing so if he had tried. The woman in her recognised that he had wanted to.
Beth settled into her job with eagerness. She found it easy from the start, as she had helped to stock the shelves and consequently knew where everything was. She quickly learned to serve customer needs, and James found she was totally reliable regarding the ordering of books through the post or the computer, leaving him free to concentrate on other things. The children’s reading corner was an immediate success. At first, James took on the task of reading stories to the small groups of young children that came in, but found that Beth had a talent in that direction with children of under school age. Twice a week she held tiny audiences enthralled with stories of imagination and suspense. There proved to be something of the ham actor in her, and she lived every story as though it was real. The youngsters loved it, and it was a rare day that the cash register did not show evidence of the effort she displayed.
’I used to read stories to my Auntie Anne’s children when they were younger,’ she admitted one day when James tackled her about her story telling ability. ’I haven’t done it for a long time because they’ve moved away now.’
’You’ve kept the talent, though, and a good thing too.’
Winter came. Christmas passed in a blur of frantic shopping, keeping them busier than ever before. James found himself snowed under with the vast amount of paperwork that a modern business seems to demand, often working until after midnight, but at last the pace slackened and he was able to keep more sociable hours. The Crowe family invited him for Christmas dinner, practically bullying him into ceasing work for one day, a bullying he took with good humour. Presents were duly exchanged, a book of poems wrapped inside a scarf and woolly hat for Beth, a fountain pen being her present to him. He took her to the restaurant again after the Christmas rush, finding it almost empty, to the relief of both. They had seen too many people at work, and a bit of near solitude was more than welcome. Once again she tucked her arm in his upon leaving. Once again he said goodnight outside the house without attempting to touch her.
’James.’
’Yes?’
’Oh, nothing. At least...’ she stepped forward quickly and pressed her lips to his cheek, then turned and went indoors. The man outside stared at the brickwork without really seeing it for over a minute before moving slowly away. He rubbed the cheek she had touched with her lips in wonderment, realising that the relationship between them had changed in some way hard to define. He tried to remember her as a kid at school, but failed to hold the image in his mind.
’I’m not sure you should have done that, young lady,’ he breathed. ’Nice though. Very nice.’
He smiled as he climbed into the car, and hummed a Mozart melody all the way home.
In mid February, trade came almost to a halt. The sales were over. People had apparently run out of money, and the demand for books was low.
’Time for a holiday, I think,’ announced James one bleak and dark day, when the shop lights seemed to be swallowed up in the gloom.
Beth looked at him suspiciously. ’Holiday?’
’Well, working holiday, that is.’
’I thought so. Getting you to stop work is like emptying the sea with a bottomless bucket. Where are you going?’
’There’s a book fair in the Midlands the week after next.’
’Yes, I remember seeing the advertising.’
’Well, this is not a bad time of the year to go there and see what’s new. Also, there are a couple of other places nearby where I might be able to pick up some out of print books.’
’It all sounds like work to me. You won’t rest, you know you won’t.’
’Probably not. You had better come with me to make sure I don’t overdo it.’
’You mean, close the shop?’
’Rather not. My uncle would come in for a few days to keep it open, I know he would. He’s often said so. I think he regrets retiring. Well, what do you say? You haven’t had a holiday either.’
’I’d like to,’ she said hesitantly.
James thought he could read what was in her mind.
’Don’t worry. It’ll all be abov