Katie Mulholland
Page 45
‘Is it still occupied?’
‘Oh, aye, as far as I know. Fred Bateman will take you in his taxi if you like. He’s outside.’
The taxi was a dilapidated vehicle with a dented body. The young man placed his luggage in the boot and climbed into the back seat.
When the car was in highly vibrating motion Fred Bateman called above the din, ‘Funny you wantin’ Greenwall Manor; two of my friends look after it.’
‘Oh, that’s interesting.’
‘You goin’ to see the old gentleman?’
There was a considerable pause before the American said, ‘Yes…yes.’
‘He’s over a hundred now, you know. Incredible when you think of the condition he’s in and all he’s lived through…Do they know you’re comin’?’
‘No. I…I didn’t inform them. I was rather hazy about my movements.’
‘Oh. Aye. I see. You a relation, sir?’
‘Yes, yes, I suppose you could call me a relation.’
‘Of the old man or the old lady?’
There was a pause before the American said, ‘Well, both, I suppose.’
‘Oh, aye! Aye!’ Fred’s exclamation was meant to convey that he understood, but at the same time it said that the situation wasn’t quite clear to him.
The taxi now turned up a side road and into open country.
‘Nice stretch of country this.’ Fred was nodding out of the window. ‘Lovely up here on a day like this; you can breathe.’
The American, feeling that a complimentary retort was expected of him, said, ‘Yes, yes. You can see for quite some way.’
‘There it is, sir.’ Fred was pointing across to the left now, to a dark blur of trees. ‘It’s in there, the house. Used to be fine gardens there, they said, at one time, but there’s nowt but brushwood any more. There was a farmhouse an’ all, but that’s a complete wreck.’
The American was sitting forward in his seat as the taxi turned into a gateless opening and went through a dark tunnel of trees to a grass-covered space, out of which reared a great grey stone house. When the car stopped he got out and stood gazing up at the bleak façade for a moment, then followed Fred into a courtyard where the grass was sprouting a foot high between the flagstones.
It was a very large yard, he saw, surrounded by buildings, and through an archway at the far end came a woman. She had a bucket in her hand and she stopped for a second and stared towards them before walking briskly forward, saying, ‘Why, Fred!’ Then her mouth opened into a gape as she looked at the visitor.
‘Hello, Maggie,’ said Fred. ‘I’ve brought this gentleman…He’s come to visit.’
Maggie, a plump-bodied, round-faced, middle-aged woman, looked hard at the taxi-driver and he at her; then she turned her gaze towards the visitor again and quietly asked, ‘Who do you want to see, sir?’
‘Well’—he smiled down at her—‘to tell you the truth, I don’t rightly know; but…but, candidly, I didn’t really expect to see anyone. I just came to see the house. I know that my great-grandmother died here two years ago; I didn’t expect there to be anyone else alive.’
Maggie Robson bent her head well forward before saying, ‘You’re her great-grandson?’
‘Well, I’m Daniel Rosier the third.’ His smile broadened.
‘Well, well!’ Maggie straightened up. ‘What a pity she didn’t live to see this day. Will…will you come in, sir? My husband’s upstairs; I’ll go and get him.’
She led him into the house, into an enormous stone-flagged room, then left him and returned a moment later, followed by a man not much taller than herself; but whereas she was plump the man was thin and wiry.
‘This is my husband, Willie, sir.’
‘How do you do.’
‘How do you do, sir.’ The man stared up into Daniel’s face. He looked slightly bewildered and gave a nervous laugh as he said, ‘This is a surprise, sir. My wife’—he nodded towards her—‘she tells me you are the old man’s—I mean the old gentleman’s—great-grandson.’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘You’re American?’
‘Yes, I’m American.’
‘And you’ve come all the way from America?’
‘Well, not recently; I’m at Cambridge. I arrived back on Monday, and as I have a week to spare I thought I would come along.’
‘Cambridge?’ It was Fred chirping in now. ‘You going to Cambridge, sir, the university? Oh, you’ll like that. I was in Cambridge once. Oh, it’s a lovely place, Cambridge.’
‘Is this your first trip over, sir?’
Daniel looked from Willie to Maggie as he answered, ‘No, this is my third year at Cambridge, but…but, you see, I didn’t know I had any relations in England until quite recently when my grandfather died.’ He paused and his gaze swept over the three of them before he ended. ‘My father found letters from England—from here, to be exact—among his possessions.’
‘Oh yes.’ Maggie nodded at him. Then she dropped her head to one side and said, ‘She was a lovely lady, your great-grandmother, a lovely lady.’
‘Yes, yes, I’m sure she was.’
Turning from him, she now spread a cloth over the corner of the long table and on it she placed a new crusty loaf, a platter holding a chunk of cheese, half of a large fruit cake and a large pot of tea.
As Daniel drank the strong sweet tea and ate his third slice of yeasty-tasting bread and butter and finished off with a slice of cake there grew in him a feeling of excitement, a feeling that churned his stomach and made him restless. The feeling wasn’t entirely new; it had come into being six weeks ago when his grandfather had died and his grandmother had seemed on the point of following him. It was when she lay in a coma, from which none of the family thought she would recover, that his father began to sort out the pile of letters he had come across in the bureau in the library; letters that had nothing to do with the shipyard, or any of the other business in which they had interests, but were private letters revealing an astounding situation—a situation that had upset Daniel Rosier the Second very much. He had been amazed to find that he had a grandparent in England who apparently had been still alive up to two years ago. But when his mother recovered she refused to discuss the subject in any way; and only his fear of causing a relapse prevented him from pressing the point.
Daniel the Second was very interested in the fact that he had forebears in England, for he had always been under the impression that both his parents had been orphans. His mother’s refusal to speak of the past pointed to something of a mystery and he wanted it cleared up, and so he had suggested that he, Daniel the Third, should come over a few days earlier and find out what he could about the strange business.
And so here he was, and upstairs was his ancient great-grandfather and he was anxious to see him. Yet the couple sitting opposite were making no move to bring about the meeting. It was odd when he came to think of it, but they should have proposed him going upstairs first. Addressing Maggie, he said now, ‘That was very nice. I’ve never tasted bread like that before.’
‘I bake all me own.’ She smiled at him. ‘I have to; it’s too far out to deliver.’
He dusted his fingers against each other; then he took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth and, looking at Willie, asked, ‘May I go up now?’
‘Oh yes, sir. Yes, sir.’
Willie opened the door and stood aside for Daniel to pass, and led him along a dark corridor, through another door and into a hall.
Just inside the door Daniel stopped and gazed about him in sheer amazement. He saw a huge, high room with a staircase leading out of it. There were a number of dark brown doors around the walls, and in between them hung pictures, the subjects almost indiscernible. The floor was bare and dusty but showed recent signs of having been swept, but the cobwebs hanging from the corners of the ceiling had not apparently been disturbed for many years.
Willie Robson brought Daniel’s eyes down to him as he said, ‘It’s an awful sight, sir, but we can’t do any more: the
old man takes all my time, but every now and again I have a go at the place. But it’s like the Swing Bridge; by the time you finish at one end you’ve got to start at the other. Maggie, she’s never done. That kitchen is one body’s work besides the meals and the washing, and I’m tellin’ you, sir, there’s some of that, and with every drop of water to be boiled.’
‘Please, please, it’s all right. Believe me, I’m not finding fault, I’m just amazed at what I’m seeing. God, I just don’t know how the two of you live here, let alone keep the place clean.’
Willie smiled slightly now, then lowered his head before saying, ‘You haven’t seen anything yet, sir. If it was only the house we could manage and do something with it; it’s him—I mean the old gentleman. I…I’d better prepare you, sir, for apart from him being very old, over a hundred, he’s not a nice sight. He had an accident years back and it took half of his face off, and I think it affected his mind as well. He’s…he’s not very often himself, besides which he’s partly paralysed. I just thought I’d better warn you. He hasn’t been too bad these last few days, but…but he can change as quick as lightning.’
Daniel shook his head slightly but said nothing, and when Willie turned and mounted the stairs he followed him, his eyes darting about him the while.
They reached a sort of gallery with long weather-smeared windows through which the sun was trying to shine, then crossed a broad space and along a corridor, and outside the end door Willie paused and glanced up at Daniel. Then he opened the door and went inside, and Daniel slowly followed him.
The first thing he noticed was that the sun was shining brightly through the two large windows of this room, and that the heavy furniture filling it, although not bright, looked as if it had had some attention. The windows were facing the door, and he had to turn completely round and look to the wall to the left of him, behind the door, before he saw the four-poster bed and the creature sitting in it.
Although he had been prepared, the shock was such that he felt his shoulders coming up as if to protect his head from the onslaught. He was looking at a completely bald head, sickly white in the parts where it wasn’t mottled brown. The white parts stood out like scabs and the brown appeared like hollows in the skull. Then there were the eyes, like small black points at the end of two funnels. One side of the face, the side with the ear, presented a wrinkled mass of loose skin; the other side, minus the ear, was drawn together as if it had been stitched with red string; and then there was the white hand, not blue veined but all white, a lifeless thing lying on top of the counterpane. But this wasn’t any more horrifying than the other hand that was only part of a hand and had a leather strap around the wrist from which ran a leather lead, like a dog’s lead, to the thick post of the bed.
Daniel watched Willie go to the bed and without bending towards the man in it call loudly, ‘There’s someone to see you,’ and, stepping aside, turn his head to him and say under his breath, ‘Don’t get too close.’
Daniel had to force himself to move towards the bed at all, and he stood just beyond the foot of it and after wetting his lips said formally, ‘Good afternoon, sir.’
‘Wha’! Wha’… ! Bloody doctor…You won’t ge’ me out.’ The voice was thick, blurred, the words disjointed, running into one another; it was as if they had taken their shape from the distorted lips. ‘Ride…ride with the best of ’em.’ The croak stopped and the two black points at the end of the funnels emerged for a moment and the hand with the strap on it came swiftly forward, only to be checked by the lead. The action seemed to set the left side of the body quivering and the voice, loud now, startlingly loud, cried, ‘Who the hell…are you? Who, eh? Don’t stand there! I’m not dead, I’m not dead.’
‘This is your great-grandson from America; he’s come to see you.’ Willie was shouting again.
The figure in the bed became still for a moment or so; then the face began to move. The skin on the left side twitched, the black spots of the eyes became larger, the jaws worked as if on a mouthful of food; then the single word came sharply, almost without distortion, ‘Grandson?’
‘Great-grandson.’ Daniel bent his head forward as he spoke and tried to smile.
‘Ha-ha!…Ha-ha-ha!…Oh, ha-ha-ha!’
As the crackled laughter became higher and higher, Daniel felt Willie’s hand on his arm, and he stepped backwards as Willie whispered, ‘It’s no use, sir, he’s going to start; he’s always like this at the beginning. I would come away, sir.’
Daniel needed no second bidding, but as he turned towards the door the voice came at him from the bed, jerking his head round, ‘Bastard!’ The figure was leaning towards him, his arm pulling at the strap. ‘Whore! Mulholland’s whore! Jail. The Swede. Mulholland’s whore. Jail. No horses. No horses.’
‘Come away, sir.’
When Willie closed the door behind them and they had walked to the end of the corridor they could still hear the voice, at the pitch of a scream now, yelling, ‘Mulholland. Mulholland.’
‘I’m sorry, sir, very sorry it had to be like that.’ Daniel stood with his hands on the balustrade of the gallery and looked down into the hall. Then, turning to the little man at his side, he said, ‘Only one thing amazes me: how do you stand looking after him?’
‘Use, sir, I suppose. And it’s a job. We were glad enough of it years ago and things weren’t so bad when the old lady was alive.’
‘How long have you been here?’
‘Nineteen-twenty we came, sir. I came out of the army in eighteen and couldn’t get work, and when this came up we jumped at it. There was a cook then and a maid. My job was to look after the old man and Maggie was to see to the old lady. I said we jumped at the job, but after a couple of weeks, I don’t mind telling you, I was for leaving. If things hadn’t been so bad all round I would have an’ all, because it was sheer hell looking after him. He was bedridden then, and he’d only had one stroke, and you couldn’t go in the room unless something came at you. That’s…that’s why I keep his arm tied. He still picks things up from the tray and lets you have them full belt. I have to feed him now, and that’s no pleasant job.’
Daniel shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment, then said, ‘No pleasant job…That, I should imagine, is putting it mildly. But why can’t you have extra help?’
‘Oh well, sir; I guess you don’t know, but the money went when the old lady died. She was living on an endowment for years. It was quite substantial, I understand, but once she went it was finished. The house has been mortgaged for years, but now we’re getting by on the bits and pieces.’
‘Bits and pieces?’ Daniel’s brows came together. ‘Yes, sir, the plate an’ that. There was a lot of silver, but the solicitor had it put in the bank, and other things an’ all, bits of jade and jewellery and stuff like that, all valuable, and books—the library’s practically empty. Then six months ago they came and took an inventory of the furniture. Every article in the house they’ve got stock of, and there’s some fine pieces here although they might look a bit grubby. All the bills are sent to the solicitor and he pays our wages when he comes once a month. He’s always tellin’ us to go careful like, and if he lasts very much longer’—he jerked his head backwards—‘they’ll likely have to foreclose. The doctor can’t understand him lasting as he does. He says it’s the devil in him, and I agree with him there. There’s nobody knows more about his devil than I do.’
‘This is fantastic, fantastic.’ Daniel’s face was screwed up. Then he asked, ‘How did he come to have those injuries?’
‘Oh well, sir, it’s a long story; but, as far as I can gather, his sister shot him.’
‘No!’
‘Aye, sir. She intended to kill him, they say. It’s a pity she didn’t, that’s what I say. But shortly after she did that he got seven years’ imprisonment.’
‘For what?’
‘He killed his servant, sir.’
Daniel stared at Willie for a whole minute before he repeated, ‘Killed his servant?’
‘God Almighty!’ Daniel dropped his chin on to his chest, and Willie said brightly, ‘Oh, don’t let it worry you, sir.’
‘But my grandfather’—Daniel was shaking his head as he looked at Willie—‘my grandfather was such a gentle man…I mean gentle, kind, almost womanlike, he was so gentle. And so is my father.’
‘Strange, isn’t it, sir, but likely they took after the old lady, for, as I said, sir, she was really lovely. Maggie cried for days after she went. There’s been many a time in these last few years when I’ve said I couldn’t stick it any longer, but Maggie’s kept me here because she didn’t want to leave the old lady. Would you like to see her room, sir?’
‘Yes, yes.’ Daniel spoke as if he was in a slight daze, and he turned from the balcony and followed Willie back up the corridor and into a room on the left-hand side. This, too, had a huge four-poster bed, but it was a different room. The woodwork had been painted white, the carpet was a faded green, as were the satin curtains on the long window; it was a woman’s room, a gentle woman’s room, and had a smell of lavender and orris root about it.
Between the two long windows stood a large escritoire, and Willie, pointing to it, said, ‘She spent hours and hours at that desk, not writing—only a letter now and again—but just sitting there. You know, she never left this room for the last ten years of her life and she spent most of them in bed.’
Daniel’s eye came to rest on a painting above the mantelpiece, and when he walked towards it Willie said, ‘That was her when she was about thirty, I should say. Pretty, wasn’t she?’