Wuthering Heights

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,” he said and let go of the child.
    ‘In a flash, in one bound,
from nowhere appeared Heathcliff, who caught the child. “Oh goodness,
gracious,” he said. “Von second more and that child would have gone
splat!”
    ‘Earnshaw went white with
fury, red with rage and purple with apoplexy, finally green with envy. “How
dare you stop my child going splat,” he raged and dribbled.
    ‘ “Did you vant him to
die?” said Heathcliff.
    ‘ “No,” said Earnshaw, “I
just wanted him to go splat. Can’t a decent man let his child go splat?”
    ‘I took the baby from
Heathcliff as half of it was over him. Earnshaw poured a measure of brandy.
“No!” I cried, grabbing the glass and drank it all to stop his drunken ways. He
drained the bottle, then went upstairs shouting that there would be some
changes made.
    ‘I was rocking Hareton on
my knee, humming a song that went: “Ee I addio — we are the champions.” Then
horror! down the stairs flaunted Mr Earnshaw, wearing a blonde lady’s wig, a
tight-fitting scarlet velvet dress, off-the-shoulder, white frilly trouser
drawers, silk stockings and mid-calf, button-up bootees.
    ‘ “Mr Earnshaw, that’s your
late wife’s dress.”
    ‘He laughed as he applied
powder and rouge to his face. “I said there’d be some changes made, this is one
of them.” He hummed the Blue Danube and danced around the room, then ran
out in the night towards the Black Bull Inn.
    ‘Where would it all end?
Supposing he met a sailor, who would do what to who and how? I must say he did
look lovely. I had resumed singing: “Ee I addio” when Cathy came in.
    ‘ “Where is Heathcliff?”
she asked.
    ‘ “He’s in the stable
shovelling dung,” I said.
    ‘She looked up with her
beautiful face and said, “There must be other things than dung in life, Nelly?”
I told her that Heathcliff’s ambition was for she and him to open a corner shop
in Leeds, till then he had to shovel dung.
    ‘ “Nelly, can you keep a
secret?”
    ‘Keep a secret,