the locksmith) and drank tea, and Sally told her everything, from the moment the divorce petition came to her discovery of Mr. Beech's address.
"That's the most preposterous tale I've ever heard," said Rosa. "He can't get away with that. What does your lawyer say.? I mean, they'll laugh it out of court, won't they.'*"
"I wish he'd be a little more optimistic," Sally told her. "He wants to concentrate on defending all this nonsense." She flicked the petition, which lay on the tea table between them. "All the rubbish about being a drunkard and so on. I don't think that matters. I think he ought to concentrate on the marriage thing and hammer that for all he's worth till it falls apart. But he's equivocating. ... I don!t know."
"Change him. Go to someone else. For goodness' sake, go to someone competent!"
"I'm sure he is competent. He obviously knows the law. And he did make some sensible suggestions when I last saw him. ..."
But it was I who went to Clapham and found Mr. Beech's address, she thought, and it was I who discovered the register in Portsmouth. Has this expensive inquiry agent done anything yet?
Rosa's red hair shone in the firelight. She was frowning.
"I wonder if we ought to have Harriet in Cowley.'"' she said, meaning her home in Oxford. "That's at the heart of it, isn't it.'* This man wants Harriet. He doesn't care twopence about you; all this divorce business is only to get hold of her."
"And give him the right to have her. The point is that if the child's illegitimate, the mother has the right of custody. But if the parents are married, then the father has the right. The lawyer explained that. So, yes, it's all about her. But I have to fight it legally, Rosa. I have to go through this farce, I have to fight it in the courts, because if I don't they'll just find for him automatically and I'll lose her."
Suddenly, and quite to her own surprise, she burst into tears. They were alone in the room, since Harriet was being bathed by Sarah-Jane, and Rosa got up at once and put her arms around her, and Sally clung as she'd clung to no one since Frederick had died.
"I just don't know whyT she said, when the crying had ebbed. They were sitting side by side on the old sofa. "If I knew that, I could ... I don't know . . . offer something else, buy him off, fight him differently. But it's this not knowing that makes me so frightened. . . . It's like fighting a ghost or a madman or something. And to find that he was laying the plans for this all that time ago, before there was any Harriet, that someone's been watching me all this time. ..."
"Have you checked everything?"
"Everything.'' I think so, I think so. . . . What else can I look at.?"
"Somerset House. You know, the Registry of Births, Deaths, and Marriages. There'll be a record of Harriet's birth, won't there.'"'
Sally sat up. "Yes! Of course! Why didn't I think—" But then her expression darkened again, and she sank back in a way that was new to Rosa, a hunted, hopeless way. "He'll have altered it," she said. "I know he will. I'll go and look, but I know what I'll find."
"No," said Rosa, "/'//go and look. I'll go tomorrow. You know, if they set this all up before Harriet was even born, they can't want her for herself. They only want her because it's the best way of hurting you."
Sally thought about it. It was true, but that didn't make it any easier to understand. She glanced involuntarily at the wall. Rosa followed her eyes, and saw the bullet mark from the night before. She raised her eyebrows.
"Yes," Sally said. "I've got another pistol. I thought ..."
"And I thought you'd had enough of pistols," said Rosa gently. "After the first time."
The first time was when Sally had shot Ah Ling, the
Chinese-Dutch pirate. Rosa had been nearby and had arrived just too late to prevent it. Sally had thrown the gun away then, hoping never to touch one again.
"But it's ... I feel safer . . . No, that's not true either. I feel angry, Rosa. With a gun I can . .
"That's the most preposterous tale I've ever heard," said Rosa. "He can't get away with that. What does your lawyer say.? I mean, they'll laugh it out of court, won't they.'*"
"I wish he'd be a little more optimistic," Sally told her. "He wants to concentrate on defending all this nonsense." She flicked the petition, which lay on the tea table between them. "All the rubbish about being a drunkard and so on. I don't think that matters. I think he ought to concentrate on the marriage thing and hammer that for all he's worth till it falls apart. But he's equivocating. ... I don!t know."
"Change him. Go to someone else. For goodness' sake, go to someone competent!"
"I'm sure he is competent. He obviously knows the law. And he did make some sensible suggestions when I last saw him. ..."
But it was I who went to Clapham and found Mr. Beech's address, she thought, and it was I who discovered the register in Portsmouth. Has this expensive inquiry agent done anything yet?
Rosa's red hair shone in the firelight. She was frowning.
"I wonder if we ought to have Harriet in Cowley.'"' she said, meaning her home in Oxford. "That's at the heart of it, isn't it.'* This man wants Harriet. He doesn't care twopence about you; all this divorce business is only to get hold of her."
"And give him the right to have her. The point is that if the child's illegitimate, the mother has the right of custody. But if the parents are married, then the father has the right. The lawyer explained that. So, yes, it's all about her. But I have to fight it legally, Rosa. I have to go through this farce, I have to fight it in the courts, because if I don't they'll just find for him automatically and I'll lose her."
Suddenly, and quite to her own surprise, she burst into tears. They were alone in the room, since Harriet was being bathed by Sarah-Jane, and Rosa got up at once and put her arms around her, and Sally clung as she'd clung to no one since Frederick had died.
"I just don't know whyT she said, when the crying had ebbed. They were sitting side by side on the old sofa. "If I knew that, I could ... I don't know . . . offer something else, buy him off, fight him differently. But it's this not knowing that makes me so frightened. . . . It's like fighting a ghost or a madman or something. And to find that he was laying the plans for this all that time ago, before there was any Harriet, that someone's been watching me all this time. ..."
"Have you checked everything?"
"Everything.'' I think so, I think so. . . . What else can I look at.?"
"Somerset House. You know, the Registry of Births, Deaths, and Marriages. There'll be a record of Harriet's birth, won't there.'"'
Sally sat up. "Yes! Of course! Why didn't I think—" But then her expression darkened again, and she sank back in a way that was new to Rosa, a hunted, hopeless way. "He'll have altered it," she said. "I know he will. I'll go and look, but I know what I'll find."
"No," said Rosa, "/'//go and look. I'll go tomorrow. You know, if they set this all up before Harriet was even born, they can't want her for herself. They only want her because it's the best way of hurting you."
Sally thought about it. It was true, but that didn't make it any easier to understand. She glanced involuntarily at the wall. Rosa followed her eyes, and saw the bullet mark from the night before. She raised her eyebrows.
"Yes," Sally said. "I've got another pistol. I thought ..."
"And I thought you'd had enough of pistols," said Rosa gently. "After the first time."
The first time was when Sally had shot Ah Ling, the
Chinese-Dutch pirate. Rosa had been nearby and had arrived just too late to prevent it. Sally had thrown the gun away then, hoping never to touch one again.
"But it's ... I feel safer . . . No, that's not true either. I feel angry, Rosa. With a gun I can . .
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