The Deserter
About the end of January, Slyme left Easton’s. The latter had not
succeeded in getting anything to do since the work at “The Cave” was
finished, and latterly the quality of the food had been falling off.
The twelve shillings Slyme paid for his board and lodging was all that
Ruth had to keep house with. She had tried to get some work to do
herself, but generally without success; there were one or two jobs that
she might have had if she had been able to give her whole time to them,
but of course that was not possible; the child and the housework had to
be attended to, and Slyme’s meals had to be prepared. Nevertheless, she
contrived to get away several times when she had a chance of earning a
few shillings by doing a day’s charing for some lady or other, and then
she left everything in such order at home that Easton was able to
manage all right while she was away. On these occasions, she usually
left the baby with Owen’s wife, who was an old schoolmate of hers. Nora
was the more willing to render her this service because Frankie used to
be so highly delighted whenever it happened. He never tired of playing
with the child, and for several days afterwards he used to worry his
mother with entreaties to buy a baby of their own.
Easton earned a few shillings occasionally; now and then he got a job
to clean windows, and once or twice he did a few days’ or hours’ work
with some other painter who had been fortunate enough to get a little
job “on his own”—such as a ceiling to wash and whiten, or a room or two
to paint; but such jobs were few.
Sometimes, when they were very hard up, they sold something; the Bible
that used to lie on the little table in the bay window was one of the
first things to be parted with. Ruth erased the inscription from the
fly-leaf and then they sold the book at a second-hand shop for two
shillings. As time went on, they sold nearly everything that was
saleable, except of course, the things that were obtained on the hire
system.
Slyme could see that they were getting very much into debt and behind
with the rent, and on two occasions already Easton had borrowed five
shillings from him, which he might never be able to pay back. Another
thing was that Slyme was always in fear that Ruth—who had never wholly
abandoned herself to wrongdoing—might tell Easton what had happened;
more than once she had talked of doing so, and the principal reason why
she refrained was that she knew that even if he forgave her, he could
never think the same of her as before. Slyme repeatedly urged this view
upon her, pointing out that no good could result from such a
confession.
Latterly the house had become very uncomfortable. It was not only that
the food was bad and that sometimes there was no fire, but Ruth and
Easton were nearly always quarrelling about something or other. She
scarcely spoke to Slyme at all, and avoided sitting at the table with
him whenever possible. He was in constant dread that Easton might
notice her manner towards him, and seek for some explanation.
Altogether the situation was so unpleasant that Slyme determined to
clear out. He made the excuse that he had been offered a few weeks’
work at a place some little distance outside the town. After he was
gone they lived for several weeks in semi-starvation on what credit
they could get and by selling the furniture or anything else they
possessed that could be turned into money. The things out of Slyme’s
room were sold almost directly he left.