Delia was woken by stumbling noises and aggressive swear words. Sidney lurching in drunk from the pub was an increasingly regular occurrence. He defied his mother by doing this. Delia sighed in despair. Biddy had become even more obnoxious since returning from seeing Kate empty-handed. Another bitter quarrel would blast through the house in the morning. The last time Sidney had come in drunk he had vomited on the stairs and Biddy had threatened to throw them both out. She would too, not caring one bit about her coming grandchild. To compensate for Sidney’s wages she said she would take in a lodger.
Delia feigned sleep. Sidney took all his ill-humour out on her and he demanded sex more frequently, as if his dominance over her proved he was master of his life. Every time he was rough and he hurt her, and sometimes she ended up with a pain in her stomach. She didn’t mind pain there too much and prayed she’d miscarry. Then she would leave this wretched existence and get a live-in job somewhere far away.
She listened in dread as Sidney pulled off all his clothes, mumbling and cursing. He ripped the bedcovers clean off the bed. ‘Lie on your back, bitch,’ he muttered through the stuffy darkness.
She couldn’t go on pretending. He’d get more hostile. ‘Please Sid, I’m not feeling well. I’ve got awful cramps. Get into bed and get some sleep. You must have already roused your mother. If you keep disturbing her there’ll be even more hell to pay.’
‘I’m not worried about that old hag. I wish she was dead. If she complains I’ll tell her so. I’ll push her down the stairs. I’ll throttle her. She won’t go on getting the better of me.’ He made threats against Biddy while tanked up on alcohol, but in the morning he’d whimper to her like a trembling mouse. He came up close to Delia’s face. She could only make out his outline but she knew he was staring down at her. ‘Whinging bitch. You’re always whinging at me. You’re my wife and you’ll do your duty.’ He threw himself on top of her and submitted her to fear, pain and violation.
As she piled the breakfast dishes into the sink in the tiny back kitchen, Tony came up behind her and whispered, ‘I heard what went on last night. How badly did he hurt you?’
Tony tended to sulk and was weak-willed but he had been helpful to her occasionally, carrying buckets of water in from the pump and heavy flaskets of washing in from the line. Once when she had dropped and broken a plate he’d covered for her to save her a bawling out from his mother. His question brought on the pain of her bruises and scratches, none of which were visible outside her clothes. She didn’t want to speak about her degradation, made so much worse by the knowledge someone had been listening.
‘Was it bad?’ Tony persisted.
She nodded.
‘He had no right to do that, the bastard! You’re a lovely person. I’m working round the back of Acorn Cottage today. I’ll be alone. Miss Chiltern’s going into Truro. Slip out, say you’re going to the shop, and meet me there. I’ve got a plan to get us out of this hell-hole.’
As Delia went about the housework she was oblivious to Biddy’s carping. Not for a second did she think it wrong to run out on Sidney, he was violent and rotten right through and did not deserve her loyalty. One thing was sure, if she stayed here she’d keep being raped and producing children, with her life becoming ever more terrible. She would be better off dead than face that. She didn’t have a single penny of her own and nowhere to go. Could Tony really get her away from here? But was he reliable? It wouldn’t hurt to hear what he had to say. Luckily, Biddy wanted more tobacco and a few other things, and Delia stepped out gratefully into the fresh air.
Acorn Cottage was a solitary thatched dwelling, surrounded by high hedges and tall gates, a half mile down a quiet lane. Its owner Miss Chiltern originated from genteel folk. She was fastidious about privacy and did not mix with the locals. Tony was renewing glass panels in the greenhouse and had been downing his tools every so often and looking out for Delia. He led her round to the back. ‘I’m glad you came, Delia.’ There was a confidence about him and he seemed taller and more manly away from home. He took her to the garden bench to sit down. ‘Do you want to leave Sidney?’
She hesitated. Could she trust Tony? It might be a trick and he would tell Sidney she wanted out of their marriage.
‘Don’t worry.’ He caught hold of her hand. ‘I can’t stand it at home another day either. I know a way I can get hold of some money. If you’re willing, it’ll set us up nicely. We could slip off and catch the bus to Truro, then the train to Penzance and set up home together. I’d find us a really nice place, Delia, I promise, better than that stinking hole we’re living in. I really like you, Delia. I hate to see what Sidney and Mother is doing to you. I think we could be happy, make a real go of it. We could say we’re married, you being Mrs Viant would be no lie. You only have to give me the word. I’m going on my own anyway.’
It was a tempting offer. Penzance was by the sea; she’d like that. Tony had talked about getting away, starting up somewhere far off, even London, and Sidney and his mother had scoffed at him, accusing him of being a dreamer, of being too cowardly to branch out on his own. If Sidney came after them he’d not look for them further down in Cornwall. ‘Where’s this money coming from?’
‘Better you don’t know.’ At her frown, he added, ‘It’s underhand, it’s the only way, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.’
Something to do with the black market, she supposed. Rationing was worse now than during the war and there were lots of people making an extra few quid. Tony though must be referring to the riskier dealing in stolen goods. She’d turn a blind eye to that to better her life. ‘When can we get away?’
‘In about a couple of weeks. Sit tight. Try not to upset Sidney. I know it’s horrible for you, Delia, but go along with him in everything. I don’t want him hurting you so bad you get laid up. Just think about the wonderful life we’ll have together, think of the baby being mine. One good thing, if it looks like a Viant no one will ever suspect the truth.’
It was something to dream about; something to give her hope. ‘Thanks, Tony. I’d better get back. Your mother clocks me in and out.’
‘Just one minute.’ Tony put a hand on the side of her face and leaned round and kissed her lips. He wasn’t rough like Sidney always was. Why on earth had she kept courting him? She allowed Tony to give her a full kiss. She didn’t want to be tied down with him any more than she did his brother, but he was her only way out of her disastrous life. While she walked briskly back her mind was only on that.
Tony lit a cigarette and went to the dining-room window. He put his nose up close to the glass. The curtains were almost closed but he could see some fine pieces of old furniture, polished to a gleaming shine. Porcelain ornaments and silverware and oil paintings were there for the taking. No doubt the old lady had lots of valuable jewellery and kept cash inside. He had done many odd jobs for her. He knew her movements to the letter. He knew the easiest way to break into her home. He would wait for a couple of weeks after he’d finished this job to allow for time and distance. Then he’d relieve Miss Chiltern of as much of her wealth as he could and start a new life with Delia.