Katie Mulholland

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘Twenty-six.’

  ‘M-mm!’ He pressed his lips together. ‘You wear well.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You know, as I said last night, you’re not a bit like your parents. They’re so dark and you’re…well, slightly more than fair, aren’t you?’ As his eyes rested on her head, which was without a hat, she turned her face from him and looked out of the window, and when she made no comment whatever on his statement he asked, quietly, ‘What is it? Have I said the wrong thing?’

  ‘We’re getting off here.’

  ‘Oh!’ He got hastily to his feet and led the way out of the bus, and when they were walking side by side again he picked up where he had left off, saying, haltingly now, ‘I feel I’ve put my foot in it somewhere and for the second time. I…I remember now that my remark to your father last night about the contrast between you brought on a sudden silence. I’m sorry; I wasn’t meaning to probe or anything of that nature. Believe me. For a moment I had forgotten that I had touched on the subject before. You do believe me, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s all right. Don’t worry; you weren’t to know.’ She was looking straight ahead as she said, ‘I’m not Dad’s: my father was Aunt Katie’s stepson. He was a Norwegian.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Indeed I am. I wouldn’t for a moment…’

  ‘It’s all right. Please don’t worry.’ She was shaking her head and smiling at him now. ‘It’s perfectly all right. I used to remark on the contrast too, and it must have become so embarrassing for them that my mother told me all about it when I was sixteen.’

  Hesitantly, she repeated the story that, now, she accepted for granted—the story of Nils and her mother and Tom Mulholland. At the end she turned her face towards him. ‘Now you know. That’s the family skeleton.’

  He looked at her, his eyes moving over her face. She had a beautiful skin, like deep thick cream. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Not much of a skeleton as skeletons go,’ he said casually.

  She smiled gently. ‘Have you a better one?’

  ‘What do you think? My great-grandfather causing me to have only one great, male, grandparent.’ He dropped his head back on to his shoulder and gave an amused chuckle as he said, ‘If my mother and her side of the family ever got to know about that…Oh, boy!’

  They were laughing loudly when they entered the house, and Katie, who was sitting in the drawing room, turned her head sharply in the direction of the door at the sound, then looked at Catherine, who sat sewing by the window.

  Catherine, too, turned her head towards the door, and when it didn’t open and she heard the muted footsteps going across the hall she looked at Katie and said, ‘They’re going into the study.’

  ‘Catherine!’

  ‘Yes, Aunt Katie?’

  ‘Come here.’

  ‘What is it?’

  Catherine was bending over her now.

  ‘I…I thought you said she didn’t like him?’

  ‘Well, now, I didn’t say that, Aunt Katie. I told you she thinks he’s a bit snooty, sort of high-hat, top-drawer American.’

  ‘But they were laughing?’

  ‘Yes.’ Catherine straightened up and looked towards the door again. ‘Yes, they were laughing; but you know she likes to laugh, and he’s amusing…You said so yourself.’

  ‘Go and see what they are doing.’

  ‘Oh, Aunt Katie! Now look, don’t worry. Oh, my dear.’ She put out her hand and stroked the thick white hair. ‘Look, you mustn’t get such ideas into your head. That’s the last thing in the world that could happen.’

  ‘Catherine.’ Katie now closed her eyes and bowed her head. ‘I can’t get over the fact that he’s a Rosier.’

  ‘But you said you liked him.’

  ‘I do, I do.’ She looked up at Catherine. ‘I want to like him more and more, but I’m afraid. It’s the old fear all over again. It’s just as if I were back seventy years. I told you, I told you yesterday, I’m as fearful for her as I was for myself then. He’s a Rosier, Catherine.’

  ‘All right, all right. There now. Don’t get agitated.’ Catherine was holding the hand that was clutching at hers. ‘He’s leaving tomorrow. Peter will be home any time now and everything will be as it was. And you know, Aunt Katie, she thinks the world of Peter; the sun shines out of Peter for her. Look at all of them who were after her, but she wouldn’t look at one until Peter came on the scene. She not only loves him, she admires and respects him.’

  ‘I know, I know, Catherine, I know; and if only he wasn’t so stubborn they could have been married months ago and settled in here.’

  Catherine gave a small sigh and closed her eyes for a moment before she said, ‘There’s his mother. He’s explained it all to us, and I admire him for his honesty. He’s not going to live on Bridget, and he’s certainly not going to live on you. He’ll get a post soon, I’m sure. Miss Wilkinson’s looking out for him…Ssh! Ssh! Here they come. Now don’t worry, dear. Don’t worry. You’ll see. This is all imagination.’

  The door opened and Bridget entered. Her face was lit with laughter, her blue eyes were shining. She looked very young and beautiful, but Katie saw something more, something that she had never seen in Bridget’s face. It was a glow, a joyous glow. And the man coming in behind her, tall, thin, dark, he too looked different. His eyes were bright and glistening, his red lips were wet. They, too, were glistening, as were his big white teeth. And when Bridget, who was looking at her mother and was about to say something, tripped over the pouffe and the three books she was carrying dropped from her hands, Daniel Rosier’s arms went out to catch her. And they did catch her, and they held her, and as their laughter mingled Katie gave a low cry and slumped in her chair.

  Chapter Four

  ‘Mother, she must be going into her dotage. I hate saying that about Aunt Katie because…because I love her. You know that. But I ask you! Him and me! Why, it’s fantastic. He only came on the scene on Tuesday, and today’s only Saturday. What’s put it into her head?’

  Catherine drew in a long, deep breath. ‘It’s the past, it’s always with her, and she tells me he looks the spitting image of the first one. And his name too, the very name upsets her.’

  ‘But he can’t help his name. And as for him being like the first one, I wouldn’t believe it for a minute.’

  Catherine turned her attention to the dining table again. She straightened the cloth and proceeded to lay out the mats; then after a moment she asked quietly, ‘Did you say definitely you would meet him at the village near the house?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I told you. He said he wanted to show me over. And…and something else.’

  ‘What else?’ Catherine straightened up and stared towards Bridget.

  ‘Oh, he just wanted to convince me, I think, that, as he said, it wasn’t only the poor that suffered. We…we were talking about Jarrow. I think he wants me to see his great-grandmother’s room where she mostly lived for the last thirty years of her life. And…and to see him—I mean old Rosier…And I can tell you, Mother, I feel awful not keeping the appointment. Just to leave him waiting there…Well!’

  ‘He’ll realise something is wrong and call in.’

  ‘He’s going back to Cambridge this afternoon; there won’t be time for him to come all the way down here.’

  Catherine’s eyes narrowed just the slightest as she stared at her daughter. Aunt Katie was a very discerning woman. She might be ninety-two, but there was nothing the matter with her mind. Sometimes she imagined she had second sight…But, oh no, dear God, she prayed she hadn’t second sight on this occasion. Anyway, as Bridget had said, he had only come on the scene on Tuesday, and this was Saturday. Of course it was fantastic, ridiculous.

  When the doorbell rang she gave a start, and Bridget, turning her head towards her, said, ‘Oh Lord! I bet that’s him. And now for more explanations.’

  ‘Well, just tell him the truth. Or leave it to me and I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him that Aunt Katie was in such a state that she couldn’t be left; at
least, she didn’t want you to leave her.’

  Bridget went hastily out of the room and said to Nellie as she came from the kitchen, ‘I’ll see to it, Nellie.’ She went to the front door and opened it; then, her face stretching in surprise and her voice high, she cried, ‘Why, Peter!’ The next moment she had her arms around the big man’s neck and he was holding her tightly and kissing her hard.

  ‘Peter!’ Catherine’s voice, too, was high and expressed her relief as she came forward with outstretched hands. ‘You weren’t expected until Monday.’

  ‘I couldn’t stick it any longer.’ He looked at Bridget, then hugged her to him once more as he laughed.

  ‘Oh, I am glad to see you, Peter,’ said Catherine again, and he, putting his arm around her shoulders, answered, ‘No more than I am glad to see you.’

  ‘How are things going, the arrangements and everything?’

  They were all close linked as they went towards the drawing room and, looking down on Bridget, he said, ‘Splendid! Fine! People are tickled, you know, at Suddick and Stoddart, two opposition agents, working together and arranging the route; but as far as I can gather they are doing fine. Mayors, all kinds of societies, all kinds of people, seem to be putting out their hands.’

  ‘You look tired.’ Bridget gazed up into the rather square face of the man she was going to marry. It was a reliable-looking face; the eyes were grey and kindly, the nose was blunt, the mouth straight and wide, but it was the chin that gave the square look to the face. It was a blunt chin, not aggressively thrust out but wide, and gave an indication of his nature—honest, thoughtful, and loyal but rather unimaginative. He touched her cheek now as he said, ‘It’s only for lack of sleep. I worked through most of the last two nights to make it back home today; I couldn’t stand another weekend in Doncaster.’

  ‘Miss Wilkinson. How is she?’ asked Catherine now.

  ‘Oh, she’s fine, Catherine, fine. By, she’s a girl. If only we had some more like her. But still, they’re coming on…’ He now took Bridget’s face between his palms. ‘Would you like to take a bet, Catherine, that in ten years’ time Mrs Bridget Conway will be standing for Shields?’

  ‘Huh! That will be the day.’ Bridget gave a high laugh as she pushed at him. ‘You’re as bad as Aunt Katie. She says she’s not going to die until she sees me a headmistress. You’ll both lose your money.’

  ‘By the way, how is she?’ He turned to Catherine.

  ‘Not very well, I’m afraid. I’ll go up and tell her you’ve come; that’ll please her.’ She cast a swift glance over her shoulder at Bridget as she finished speaking, then left them together and went up the stairs to Katie. Immediately on opening the bedroom door she said, ‘Our worries are over, dear. Guess who’s home?’

  ‘Peter? No!’

  ‘Yes, he’s just come in. He’ll be up in a tick to see you.’

  Katie was sitting propped up in bed, and she held out her hands to Catherine, and Catherine grasped them and said, ‘There now. And she’s over the moon, like a fourteen-year-old.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m telling you.’ Catherine disengaged one hand and patted Katie’s cheek.

  ‘Oh, thank God, thank God…Catherine, listen to me. They must be married as soon as possible.’

  ‘Now, now, don’t start and worry about that. You know what the big obstacle is, his mother, and what would you think of him if he left her high and dry, and her over seventy?’

  ‘Bridget will just have to make up her mind to go and live there.’

  ‘Oh, Aunt Katie, you know for a fact she wouldn’t do that. You know that she doesn’t care very much for Mrs Conway. Moreover, you’ve always been against it.’

  ‘Well, I can change my mind, can’t I? I’m not too old for that.’ Katie smiled at Catherine, and in the distance the front doorbell rang, and this sound brought Catherine upwards from the bed, saying, ‘Peter will be coming up in a minute. Now don’t excite yourself. I’m laying the table. Be good now.’ She slapped Katie’s hand gently, then hurried from the room, and as she went down the stairs Nellie was letting Daniel in through the front door.

  He put his case down in the hall, then looked up and saw her, and when she came towards him he said, ‘Is…is anything wrong?’

  ‘No, no, Daniel, only Aunt Katie. Well, after that turn last night, we kept her in bed and…and she won’t let Bridget out of her sight. She’s like that, you know.’ Catherine nodded at him and smiled. ‘I’m sorry Bridget couldn’t come.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all right; but I thought I’d just pop in to say goodbye before leaving.’

  ‘Of course, of course, Daniel. We would have been very vexed if you hadn’t.’ She was walking towards the drawing room now, her back towards him, and she stopped suddenly and said, ‘We got a nice surprise just a short while ago. Peter came back. He wasn’t expected until Monday.’ She turned quickly from him again, and as she opened the drawing-room door she called loudly, ‘Bridget! Here’s Daniel.’

  Entering the room behind Catherine, Daniel looked towards the two figures standing near the French windows. They were standing apart, but he knew that a second before they had been close together. He looked at the man first, tall, rather heavily built, not unpleasant to look at, but much older than himself, much older than Bridget.

  ‘Hello, Daniel. I’m sorry about this morning.’ She came towards him.

  ‘Oh, that’s all right.’ He smiled at her, and when she turned from him and, pushing her arm backwards, said, ‘This is Peter,’ the man came forward with his hand extended, and Daniel took it.

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you.’ Peter shook Daniel’s hand vigorously. ‘Bridget was just telling me about you. Oh, I wish I’d been here when you first came, I do indeed; I would have shown you around.’

  ‘Palmer’s.’ Daniel said the one word without a smile on his face, and Peter threw his head back and laughed loudly. ‘Oh, Palmer’s! Did she take you to Palmer’s?’ He reached out and pulled Bridget towards him and, circling her with his arm, he said, ‘Oh, she’s a great girl for Palmer’s, or what was Palmer’s. But there are other places besides Palmer’s.’ He nodded at Daniel. ‘I am so sorry I wasn’t here.’

  ‘You’ll be staying for lunch, won’t you, Daniel?’

  ‘No, no, Catherine. I’ve got a longish journey before me; I’m getting the half-past-one train from Newcastle.’

  ‘Oh, but that leaves you no time at all.’

  ‘Well, just enough time to say goodbye to Great-Grandmother and get the taxi to the station.’

  ‘You’re not getting any taxi,’ Peter said now; ‘I’ll run you to the station. I’ll run you to Newcastle.’

  ‘Thank you, but I ordered the taxi to come here’—he glanced at his watch—‘in exactly twenty minutes’ time.’

  ‘Oh, what a pity!’ said Catherine; then added, ‘Well, Daniel, if that’s all the time you have you’d better go upstairs, hadn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, Catherine, yes.’ He inclined his head towards her, then at the two standing close together, and Peter smiled broadly at him, saying, ‘It’s a pity, it’s a pity. It’s just hail and farewell.’ But Bridget neither spoke nor smiled; she looked straight at Daniel, and he at her for a second before he turned away and left the room and went upstairs.

  Catherine had preceded him, and again she was announcing his presence, louder this time. ‘Here’s Daniel, Aunt Katie! He’s only got a minute or two and then he’s off. Isn’t it a shame?’

  Katie, her head leaning back in the pillows, looked up at Daniel, and at this moment her feelings were mixed. She couldn’t understand them herself. She wouldn’t know a minute’s peace until this young man was gone from this house, gone from the town, and soon, she hoped, gone from the country; yet, although he was the spitting image of the other one, there was something about him that she liked. If there hadn’t been Bridget to consider she would have now gripped his hand and said, ‘Come back soon, Daniel,’ because he was, after all, flesh of her
flesh; he belonged to her, more than Catherine or Tom; more than Bridget, which was hard to believe, but Bridget, after all, was only the offspring of her brother’s granddaughter and a man from another country, whereas this boy’s grandfather had been Bernard Rosier’s son, and his grandmother had been Bernard Rosier’s daughter and her daughter. The link here was intertwined, plaited strong. He was more hers than any of them, yet the only thought in her mind at the moment was for him to go away and never return; and the thought brought a strange sharp pain with it.

  He was talking to her, but the words were going over her head because she was trying to resist the desire to put out her arms and gather him to her.

  ‘I won’t be going home at Christmas. I generally stay with some friends in Kent, but I’d like to pop down and see you.’

  She noted his last remark about Christmas. Well, if she had her way Bridget would be safe by then. She smiled and put out her hand, saying, ‘Yes, Daniel, I would like to see you at Christmas.’

  He was bending towards her now, and when his firm warm lips touched her brow her stomach muscles tensed. She was being kissed by a Rosier. For the first time she was being kissed by a Rosier. ‘Goodbye, Daniel,’ she said.

  ‘Goodbye, Great-Grandmother.’ His hand softly stroked her shoulder twice; then he left her.

  A few minutes later he was at the front door and Peter was putting his case in the boot of the taxi.

  ‘Tom will be so sorry to have missed you, Daniel.’

  ‘Give him my regards, Catherine. I’ll be popping down at Christmas; I’ve told Great-Grandmother.’

  ‘At Christmas?’ said Catherine. ‘Oh, that’ll be nice.’

  ‘Goodbye, Catherine. And thank you for being so kind to me.’

  ‘Goodbye, Daniel. It’s been a pleasure.’

  They shook hands.

  ‘Goodbye, Bridget.’

  ‘Goodbye, Daniel.’

  They shook hands formally. He looked into her face. Her blue eyes had no shine in them; there was no smile on her lips; she looked tired, and at the moment not at all beautiful. ‘I’ll never have another guide like you.’ He smiled at her, and, her face still unsmiling, she said, ‘I shouldn’t think you’d ever want one.’