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hairs, he took a jug
of water and poured it down his trousers. When the steam had abated, Heathcliff
announced he would not work that day. “But”, said Cathy, “Joseph will tell
Hindley.”
    ‘ “Joseph is shovelling
shit at the manure tip, he’ll never know,” so saying Heathcliff squatted down
by the fire and started to make chapattis and chant a raga.
    ‘ “Hindley doesn’t like
wily oriental music,” said Cathy.
    ‘ “It’s a big hit in
Calcutta,” said Heathcliff.
    ‘ “I must tell you”, said
Cathy, “that Isabella and Edgar Linton…” At the mention of them Heathcliff
winced and let fall his chapatti. “...They talked of calling this afternoon.”
    ‘ “I, too,” said
Heathcliff, “talked of calling this afternoon — I was going to call it
Tuesday.” It was a joke. It died there in that room with Cathy as a mourner. He
was going to top it with, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”, but there came
the sound of horses’ hooves and dung. Young Linton entered grinning and
waggling his eyebrows. A well-meaning nerd. Heathcliff rolled up his chappatis
and with a lewd gesture left.
    ‘Miss Cathy was furious,
she stamped her tiny foot on the floor, dislocating her toe. In pain she hopped
round
    the room holding her foot.
Eventually she came to rest where Master Linton passed the time of day with
her.
    ‘ “Two-thirty and five
seconds,” he said.
    ‘I was polishing the EPNS
when Cathy said; “Nelly, leave the room!” I told her I couldn’t because Mr
Hindley had said I was never to leave her alone with male company.
    ‘Cathy smiled. “Whatever
for?” she said.
    ‘ “In case they fucked you,
miss.”
    ‘She laughed. “Fuck me? I’m
sure that’s the last thing Master Linton would do, would you, Edgar?”
    ‘ “Oh, no,” he said, “I
wouldn’t wait that long.”
    ‘Cathy threw back her head
and shrieked with laughter.
    ‘ “Do you still see
Heathcliff?” asked Master Linton.
    ‘ “Yes,” said Cathy, “in
the wind and the rain. He and
    I run across the moors
until we’re knackered, then in the wind and the rain we run back till we’re
knackered again.”
    ‘Master Linton said, “How
often do you do this?”
    ‘ “Three days a week,” said
Cathy.
    ‘ “What do you get out of
it?” asked Linton.
    ‘ “Bronchitis,” said Cathy.
    ‘Again she asked me to
leave the room. I declined, she rushed up and pinched me with a long powerful
pinch on my bottom.
    ‘I jumped up and screamed,
“You have no right to nip my nethers.”
    ‘She denied it, her ears
going red with rage. “I never nipped you,” she screamed.
    ‘In a flash I raised my
skirt, dropped my drawers and exposed the bruise on my nethers. Before anyone
could stop her she got a walking-stick and gave my nethers a wallop.
    ‘ “I don’t love you any
more,” I cried. I heard Master Linton mutter he had never seen such a “huge
arse”.’

Chapter
IX
    ------------
     
     
     
    T THIS STAGE Earnshaw came in raving
drunk, he crashed in through the window, mistaking it for the door. There was
glass everywhere, mostly in him; as he got to his feet he let go a monstrous
fart. It scorched a hole in the back of his trousers. I retired into the
kitchen with little Hareton to hide him. Earnshaw burst into the room, he
grabbed me by the scuff of the arm.
    ‘ “I’m going to make you
swallow a carving knife.”
    ‘I told him straight, “Mr
Earnshaw, I don’t like swallowing carving knives.”
    ‘ “For Heaven’s sake, why
not?” He looked disappointed. “Something else, then, how about a soup ladle?”
He offered me many things to swallow, a Broadwood 1818 piano, a mangle, but I
just didn’t fancy it. Finally, he settled for beans on toast. It was a near
thing.
    ‘He grabbed little Hareton,
who was screaming and yelling,
    ‘ “Mr Hindley!” I appealed,
as he took the child upstairs and hung him over the banisters. “He needs
changing,” I said.
    ‘ “Good, change him for a
hall chair,”