‘Yes, yes; you heard me. He wrote her four letters from that Sunday, and I opened them and burnt them.’
‘No! No, lass.’ It had a sorrowful sound, pitying and sorrowful.
‘I became as frightened of him as Aunt Katie was.’ Catherine was now holding her hands over her ears as if unable to bear her own voice. ‘And then there was the thought of her going away, to America perhaps, and…and not knowing what would happen to her, and always…always remembering his name and what he had come from. But anyway, no matter, that’s just an excuse. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I know that. Oh God, how I know it!…And I’m not blaming Aunt Katie, mind; I should have put my foot down, but, as I said, I was as frightened as she was of him…So there! And now you know.’
She brought her hands down from her face, and, leaning them on the little table for support, she bent over it, and Tom, coming to her and putting his arm about her, said, ‘Whatever you did, lass, you did with good intentions. Of that I am sure. Come on now, come on. What has to be will be.’ He was talking to her as if Bridget wasn’t there, and Bridget realised that her father wasn’t so concerned about Daniel coming to the house and his reaction on herself, but he was deeply concerned about Daniel’s reaction on her mother. His love for her would shield and shelter her from any censure, even her own. But Bridget knew it wasn’t her husband’s condemnation that Catherine feared but her daughter’s, and when she remembered all the love and kindness she had received from her over the years the hardness inside her melted. She remembered that, in a way, she herself had been thrust upon Catherine; there had been no real love in her begetting. But Catherine had loved her devotedly from the beginning, as had her father. No, not her father; he was just Tom Mulholland, but he had been to her as no ordinary father could have been. His love for her mother could have made him jealous of this child that was not his, but never once had he shown the slightest jealousy of her. He had made her feel wanted, protected.
She moved towards them both, and they turned and looked at her; and when she put her arms about Catherine and Catherine began to cry piteously, Tom put his arms about both of them, and together they stood united once more, at least outwardly, for they all knew in some measure, that the chain between them was broken. For good or bad, the last eight years was about to be wiped out, and as yet there were only two people not aware of it; Peter and Aunt Katie.
Chapter Two
‘It’s all right, Aunt Katie. Now, it’s all right. You needn’t see him if you don’t want to.’
‘I don’t want to, Catherine.’
‘Well, then, there’s nobody going to force you.’
‘Will he think it very funny, me not wanting to see him?’
‘No, no, of course not. He knows you are not well and very tired.’
‘Are you sure he doesn’t know, Catherine?’
Catherine turned away to a side table and carefully measured out a dose from the medicine bottle before saying, ‘Now, Aunt Katie, I’ve told you a dozen times already he knows nothing about it. Everything is all right.’
‘What if Bridget should find out?’
‘She won’t.’
‘She didn’t come and kiss me goodnight last night, Catherine.’
‘She was very tired, Aunt Katie. And she came in this morning, didn’t she?’
‘Yes, yes, she came in this morning. Catherine. Catherine.’
‘Yes, dear?’
‘If…if I saw him I’d have to tell him, because it’s been on my mind for many a long day.’
‘Don’t worry about it, dear.’
‘But I do, Catherine, I do. And don’t…don’t’—she smacked Catherine’s hand away—‘don’t treat me as if I was in my dotage. I’m old, I know, and my mind gets clouded at times, but at others I can still think clearly.’
‘I know you can, Aunt Katie.’
‘Catherine.’
‘Yes, Aunt Katie?’
‘Look at me, Catherine.’
Catherine turned from the table and, taking the big bony hand in hers, she said, ‘What is it?’
‘It’s just this, Catherine. Do you know that Bridget has never been happy?’
‘Oh, Aunt Katie. Aunt Katie.’ There were tears in Catherine’s voice and she buried her chin on her chest. ‘Don’t say that, please, not at this stage.’
‘It’s the only stage left to me, Catherine, the only stage, and I’ve got to say it. I could say to you an’ all that I’m frightened because he’s come back and of what might happen to her, but I won’t; it’s all in God’s hands. But she’s not happy, she’s never been happy. I did her a great wrong, Catherine.’
‘No, no, Aunt Katie, you didn’t. It was me.’
‘Oh. Oh.’ Again Katie slapped Catherine’s hand. ‘You wouldn’t have dreamed about it but for me and my fear of the Rosiers. I did it because of my fear of the Rosiers. And it’s funny, Catherine, but I don’t fear him any more. I saw him last night as plain as a pikestaff. He was crossing the yard on the way to the stables dusting down his boots, and I had fallen with some buckets of slops and it had splashed his clothes and he helped me to my feet and said it was all right; and then I watched him going to the stables. That happened a long time ago, and he didn’t help me to my feet, it wasn’t him, but last night he did. And I wasn’t afraid of him any more.’
‘Lie quiet now, dear, and don’t talk.’
‘Catherine. Catherine, don’t treat me like a child.’ Catherine drew in a long, deep sigh; then, picking up a dirty glass and spoon from the table, she went towards the open door, and as she did so Katie said to her, ‘Will you close the door, Catherine?’
The door was nearly always left open so that Katie could see into the hall, and now Catherine closed it and stood with her back to it and bit on her lip before going into the kitchen…
Daniel arrived at half-past four. Catherine opened the door to him and he looked straight into her face and said quietly, ‘Hello, Catherine.’ And she looked back at him and, her voice also quiet, she said, ‘Hello, Daniel.’
As he brought his stiff leg over the step she looked down at it. Bridget hadn’t told her it was his leg. In fact, she had hardly spoken to her since last night. She may have forgiven her, but there was a barrier between them which she felt could never be torn down. And now she had to face this man, for Daniel was no longer a boy. And she had looked upon him as a boy, although he was twenty-five when they had first met. The Daniel before her now was a man, very much of a man. She took his cap and walked towards the dining room, and he followed, and they both seated themselves without speaking.
When he did speak it was the polite enquiry of, ‘How are you, Catherine?’
But her answer wasn’t the formal reply, for she said, ‘I’m feeling dreadful, Daniel, so low that I could crawl under a stone.’
He did not come back immediately with the soothing comment, ‘Oh, don’t take it like that, it’s all over and done with, there are graver issues to be thought about, and worried over. There’s a war on, remember.’ What he did say was, ‘I find it hard to fit you in the picture, Catherine. Do you know what I think? I think you were led by Aunt Katie.’
‘Oh, no! No, Daniel. No.’
‘Yes, yes, Catherine. You didn’t hate the Rosiers as Great-Grandmother does. You had no cause to hate as she did. You were fearful, yes, that I might turn out like my great-grandfather, but I think that, left to yourself, you would have given me the benefit of the doubt. But not Great-Grandmother; she had gone through all the mill at the hands of a Rosier, so there were no good Rosiers. I loved Bridget deeply then, Catherine. I’d never loved before, and I’ve never loved since. I’ve been married and am now divorced, but I’ve never loved anyone but Bridget. I hated her for a time when I thought she had coldly ignored my every move towards her, but hate is so akin to love that I don’t know where one stopped and the other started. You know, over the years, whoever I’ve met—women, I mean—I’ve always compared them with Bridget; and that’s strange, because we knew
so little about each other really. But deep down there’s been the knowledge that she’s the only one I wanted…ever.’
‘Oh, Daniel, Daniel. I’m sorry.’
‘I believe you, Catherine, so don’t worry any more about it.’
‘But she’s married now, Daniel, it’s done. There’s no divorce for her.’
His eyes darkened for a moment and his eyebrows moved upwards but his voice was quiet as he said, ‘We’ll see about that, Catherine.’
She moved her hand slowly up to her throat, and as she whimpered ‘Oh, Daniel,’ Tom came into the room. He came in hurrying, and then stopped abruptly just over the threshold; and he pushed the door closed without turning round, and as Daniel edged himself to his feet he came forward unhurriedly now and said, ‘Hello, there, Daniel. Don’t…don’t get up.’
But Daniel was up. Supporting himself with one hand on the back of the chair, he held out the other, and Tom took it. Gravely they shook hands.
‘How are you, Daniel?’
‘Oh, pretty well.’
Tom now pulled a chair forward, and as he sat down Catherine rose to her feet and quietly left the room; and after Tom had glanced in the direction of the door for a moment he turned and, looking at Daniel’s leg, said, ‘How did you come by that, Daniel?’
‘Oh, the plane came down in the sea, and me with it.’
‘You’re lucky to be alive.’
‘Very lucky, Tom, very lucky.’
‘Did they pick you up right away?’
‘No, no, five days later.’
‘Good God! And you had that all the time?’
‘Oh, I didn’t know much about it, that was one good thing.’
‘You didn’t lose it?’
‘No, no, it’s still mine. ‘ He patted his thigh. ‘But there’s a pin up here and another in the middle. Someday, when they bring out a contraption of hinges, I might be able to bend it in both places.’
‘I should say again you’re lucky to be alive.’
‘Yes, Tom, you could say that.’
‘Are you going to be long in hospital?’
‘I think I’ll be there another fortnight, or three weeks; then, as far as I can gather, I’ll be attached to a training station. It was touch and go when I first joined whether I would take a back-room job or train as a pilot; now it looks as if I’m going to get experience in both fields.’
Tom now walked to the mantelpiece, and after a moment said, ‘I’d better get this off my chest, Daniel, for it’s lying on me like a hundredweight of coal. We’ve all done you dirty and we’re not very happy about it. I might as well tell you I’ve never been very happy about it, but it was owing to the circumstances. You see, Daniel, it was the circumstances.’ He turned and looked down on Daniel. ‘Peter’s a good fellow, honest as the day’s long, steady and reliable and he thought—and still thinks—the world of her. What’s more, they were of the same religion; there was no trouble that way—not that I care a tinker’s cuss about what religion anybody is. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if he had been a Salvation Army wallah, but it matters to other people, if you see what I mean. Well, what I’m trying to say, Daniel, is that at the time it seemed the right thing to do to help it forward, but since…Well, I don’t mind admitting to you now I’ve had me doubts, but mind you’—he wagged his finger at Daniel—‘I still think Peter’s a good chap, he hasn’t altered a scrap. He’d cut off his right hand for her. But she doesn’t want anybody to cut off their right hand for her, if you see what I mean.’
‘I see what you mean, Tom. And it’s all right, don’t worry. The matter’s closed, and let it rest there.’
‘Oh! It’s not going to be as easy as that, Daniel. From the way I see it…it’s just opened, not closed.’
‘Well, it’s all the way you look at it, Tom.’
‘Aye, Daniel, it’s all the way you look at it. But there’s one thing I know—there’ll be no more interfering with her life if I can help it. The saying that life is short was never so true as it is the day. My mother used to say “You’re here the day and gone the morrow”, but now you can whittle that down to “You’re here one second and gone the next”.’
As Daniel said, ‘That’s true enough. Yes, it’s only too true today,’ Tom put his head on one side and cocked his ear. ‘That’s her coming now,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave you for a time…you’ll be staying to tea?’
‘If it’s convenient, Tom.’
‘Oh, it’s convenient, Daniel. Any time, any time.’
He went out of the room and Daniel heard the murmur of his voice in the hall; then a minute or so later Bridget came in. She was wearing a pale grey print dress with a pattern of small flowers on it. Her eyes looked deep blue, her mouth was soft, and her hair danced with each step she took, like a child’s when newly washed. She walked slowly towards him, each step tentative, and when they were within touching distance their hands clasped.
‘You all right?’ His voice was just above a whisper.
‘Yes, yes, I’m all right.’ Her voice, too, was low. They gazed at each other before he said, ‘Was it very bad last night?’
‘Yes, very bad.’
‘It’s been awful just now. First Catherine and then Tom. I wanted to say to her, “Don’t talk about it. Forget it, forget it.” But I think we both felt relief at being able to voice it.’
‘Dad knew nothing about the letters, Daniel. I feel I must tell you that.’
‘He didn’t?’
‘No. He’d never have stood for that. That business was between Mother and Aunt Katie, and on looking back I think that Aunt Katie was the prime mover in it all.’
‘I just don’t think that, I know it.’
‘Yet I still love her.’
‘Go on loving her.’
Her head drooped forward and her voice broke as she said, ‘Oh, Daniel! You’re kind, so kind.’
‘You don’t know me.’ His voice, too, was unsteady. ‘I’m anything but kind. I’m selfish and ruthless, and I’ve no intention of changing. I’m going to get what I want this time, Bridget. You could say that I’m…I’m like him in that respect. Aunt Katie’s fears will be justified all right this time.’
She lifted her eyes to his and said, ‘Oh, Daniel!’ Then, wetting her lips and shaking her head, she added, ‘I don’t know where I’ve been all day. I haven’t known what I’ve been teaching. Yesterday life was just a matter of routine, trying to keep the children happy, waiting for the sirens going, hurrying home, taking my turn with Aunt Katie, going to bed, jumping up and rushing downstairs—the same routine over and over again. That was yesterday, but…but not today.’ She gathered his hand impulsively between her own and brought it to her mouth and pressed her lips against it; and he pressed his face against her head for a moment and murmured an endearment under his breath, then whispered softly, ‘Will you come out to the house with me? We can get a bus to within fifteen minutes’ walk of it. I have a late pass; I needn’t get the train from Jarrow until after ten.’
‘Yes, Daniel.’ There was no hesitation to her answer. She looked up into his face and watched his bottom jaw moving backwards and forwards. She watched him drag his lower lip deep into his mouth with his teeth, and when he gripped her chin the force behind it shook them both, and quickly he said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’
She moved her head now and whispered quickly, ‘They’re coming.’
Daniel was in the act of sitting down when Catherine and Tom came into the room, but Bridget did not move. She stood within an arm’s length of his chair, and the action spoke to Catherine as clearly as if Bridget had yelled her intentions, and in the turmoil of her mind she cried silently to her daughter, ‘But you can’t do this, Bridget, you can’t! You’re married to Peter. There’s no such thing as divorce for you. You’d be living in sin. And he’s not a Catholic either, which makes it worse. You can’t…you can’t do it.’
Catherine did not consider her way of thinking ludicrous in any degree. She had been
educated in a convent, she had been brought up by one Catholic parent, and even if she despised his bigotry she believed in the doctrine whereby he lived and for which, in his ignorance, he would have died.
When they got off the bus at the top of the hill, where the land rolled down into the valley, she said, ‘Oh, it’s too far for you to walk from here.’
‘No, it’s only about a mile, and they tell me I should walk.’ He reached out and drew her arm through his and pressed it to his side, and as they walked down the rough road they were silent for a time. They both knew why they were making for the house. They must be alone together; after eight years they were craving to be alone together. They could never be alone in Loreto; nor, like an ordinary couple, could they walk the streets. Mrs Conway, the schoolteacher, was too well known in Shields. With his uneven gait, his body rubbed against her with each step he took, but had she been naked and he clothed in sandpaper she wouldn’t have flinched from his side.
She felt strangely elated. That was the only way she could describe the racing, churning feeling that had consumed her since last night. She was like a girl who had just fallen in love. And wasn’t she a girl who had just fallen in love? Because the feeling she had for Daniel, which had its birth eight years ago, had been the first love she had experienced.
When he said to her, ‘Did they try to prevent you coming?’ she shook her head, then said, ‘No.’
‘Did they know you were coming to the house?’
‘I didn’t say where I was going; I just said I was going out.’
Katie Mulholland Page 56