Again they were walking in silence. Then, some distance farther on, as if he was continuing the conversation, he said, ‘I just can’t believe this is true.’
‘Nor me,’ she said.
When at last they came to the place where the gates had been they stopped for a moment and she exclaimed, ‘They’ve cleared the trees away!’
‘Yes; that’s one good thing the Army has done. They’ve cleared the drive and all round the house, but left a good border edging the land. They’ve also kicked the panelling to shreds inside, and carved their names all the way down the balustrade. Boys will be boys.’
When they came on to the broad drive fronting the house, which was churned up now by heavy vehicles, she looked up at the grey, gaunt structure. Most of the windows were broken, and to the side, as Daniel had said, all that remained of the outbuildings was a heap of rubble. She said softly, ‘What a shame!’
‘They can be rebuilt.’
She turned her eyes towards him as she asked, ‘Why…why did you keep it, Daniel?’
‘Oh, for a number of reasons. My mother liked the idea of an English manor house; I knew she would.’ He nodded at her. ‘She thought how nice it would be to have a real English manor house as a sort of—well, holiday home where all the family, and in-laws, and the children could come. She saw herself entertaining on a grand scale. I wanted to sell it, but she wouldn’t hear of it unless she could buy it from me…You see, I had paid for it myself. I had money of my own—my grandfather divided the yard shares among us many years ago. Anyway, I kept the house on, and the Robsons. You remember Willie and Maggie? They were here until the military moved in. They did a lot of work. Willie saw to the engaging of the decorators and to the panelling being renewed in the hall. It rather vexed me when I saw what had happened to that.’
‘You…you came back before the war then?’ She was gazing up at him in surprise.
‘Yes, after my divorce, in June ’thirty-nine.’
‘Why…’ She paused. ‘Why didn’t you come then, Daniel?’
‘That’s a question, Bridget. Why didn’t I come then? The truth isn’t very pleasant, even to myself. I…I was drinking hard at the time. I had just been divorced, after making myself and an innocent person very unhappy for two years. Anyway, I only stayed here for four days—that was all, four days—and I was high most of the time. But every day I was coming down to see you. Yet I knew if I did they would say, “She’s had a lucky escape. What did I tell you! There are no good Rosiers.” And there was just something, some spark of pride, that kept me away. I didn’t want them, and you, to be proved right; so back home I went, took a pull at myself, said to hell with all women and wished a special hell for Bridget Mulholland.’ He put his arm round her shoulders and smiled softly. ‘It sounds very ordinary and everyday, doesn’t it? The disappointed suitor marries, on the rebound, a girl he had known all his life—a beautiful girl, mind you.’ He nodded at her and hugged her closer. ‘But nobody should marry on the rebound, nobody…Come on.’ He ended abruptly, ‘We’ll have to go through the kitchen. I haven’t a key for the front door.’
In the kitchen she exclaimed, ‘The old stove’s gone!’ She pointed. ‘And you’ve put electricity in. Oh, Daniel!’
He led the way along the corridor, and when they entered the hall she stopped, as she had done before, and looked around her and said softly, ‘Even as bare as it is, it looks so different, lighter.’
‘It could look marvellous. It was beginning to, and the Robsons were so pleased with it all.’
‘Where are they now?’
‘Oh, they’ve got a little house in a place called Low Fell. They’re both in munitions, but when it’s all over they say they’re coming back. We must go and see them.’
He limped across the hall and pushed open the drawing-room door. ‘They made a mess of this,’ he said. ‘It was all done in blue, gold and cinnamon. My mother sent over the colour scheme, right to the particular shades. But there’s not much colour left now, except up towards the ceiling.’
As they gazed upwards she said, ‘Oh, it is a shame. Pure vandalism.’
‘Still, we’re the same—I mean our fellows. Put them in an empty house and it’s a licence to go mad; and the better the house the worse they seem to treat it. But wait until you see the bathrooms. I’ll swear to you that the whole company got into those baths with their boots on.’
‘Oh, Daniel!’ She smiled at him and dropped her head for a moment against his shoulder. Then, laughing softly, they slowly mounted the stairs.
All the walls in the gallery were bare; and as she looked to where the picture of Bernard Rosier used to hang, he said, ‘They’re all packed away.’
He moved across the gallery and down the corridor, and inserting a key in the lock of a door he opened it. It was stacked to the ceiling with furniture, the only space left being a narrow passage that led from the door to the window. Going first, he edged his way between the stacked chairs and wardrobes, dressing tables and bureaux, and when he came to the window he glanced at her over his shoulder and said, ‘You remember this room?’
Looking at the high posts of the bed, she nodded. The bed was stacked with pillows, curtains and household linen. He pulled the covers aside and flung the things high up on top of others until there was enough room for them to sit down. And when they were seated they leant against each other, quiet and shy for a moment, knowing that they had reached the end of their destination…for the time being.
His cheek rubbing gently against hers, he said, ‘Do you know what I expected when I knocked on the door?’
‘No.’
‘Well, I thought I’d be met by a very much older edition of the school-marm with almost a school of her own—at least six.’
‘Oh, Daniel!’ She brought her face from his and looked into his eyes.
‘Honest I did. At least, I think I was hoping to find that, but…but it never, never, never dawned on me that within an hour of seeing you I’d be holding you in my arms. Can you believe that?’
She nodded slowly. ‘Yes. Yes, I can believe that, Daniel. Yet I can’t believe it’s happened. I just can’t. Anyway, not in such a short space of time. I feel I’m dreaming. I often imagined meeting you again and wondered how I would react, but I never thought I’d fall into your arms straight away…almost throw myself into them. Oh, Daniel!’ She put up her hand and touched his hair. ‘I’m in a maze. I can’t think clearly about anything, yet at the back of my mind there’s a big question mark; what’s going to come of this?’
‘You don’t know?’ His brows shot up towards his dark hairline. ‘Well, I do. We’re not going to be separated again, that’s all. You know, and I know, for good or ill we’re together. You’ll get a divorce and we’ll get married…’
‘No! Daniel, no! That’s what I mean.’ Her head was moving in wide desperate sweeps now.
‘What! Now, Bridget. Now, now!’ He thrust his hand beneath her chin and brought her face to a stop and forced her to look at him. ‘You’re going to get a divorce and we’re going to be married!’ His voice sounded thin, tight, steel-edged.
‘Yes, Daniel, yes. That’s what I would say if I was speaking for myself, but I know that Peter will never divorce me.’
He gazed fixedly at her. His lips were apart and he closed them twice before he asked from way down in his throat, ‘Then what, Bridget? You can’t intend to…?’
‘No, no, Daniel,’ she put in quickly, ‘I can’t intend, and I don’t intend, to stay with him. I’ll go with you wherever you want me to.’ She was looking deep into his eyes. ‘As long as I’m with you nothing matters, married or not married.’
‘Oh, Bridget! Bridget!’ Her name was smothered as his mouth moved around her face, and in their passage his lips broke into endearments. ‘Oh, darling, darling, Bridget, I love you. Do you hear me? I adore you. Remember adore, adore? Well, I adore you. We’ll live together and work together. We’ll build that school together. It was a great idea, the school. We’
ll build it here in this house…’
She did not stop him at this point and say, ‘No, not here, Daniel! It would be too near Peter, too near them. We mustn’t hurt them more than we can help.’ Moreover, in this moment he didn’t seem to realise that very few parents would send their children to a school where the proprietor was living in sin with a woman, and that’s how their association would be looked upon. But it didn’t matter, that was all in the future. The main thing at present was he knew that she would go with him; wherever he went, if it was possible she would be there also. She felt one arm leave her and knew that he was thrusting back the bedding, making a space for them to lie down. They could not fall naturally on to the bed because his leg didn’t permit it, but, releasing her, his eyes never leaving hers, he stood up and gently pressed her backwards. Then, sitting on the edge of the bed again, he gave a swinging motion with his body and he was lying beside her. His eyes still holding hers, his hands caressing her, they came together for the first time and in the bed where his great-grandfather had slept in his early youth and young manhood, where he had taken Katie Mulholland on the night of the ball and had implanted in her the seed that was eventually to bring forth himself, Daniel Rosier the Third.
Chapter Three
‘I’ve been seeing a lot of Joe lately, Catherine.’
‘Have you, Aunt Katie.’
‘He was talking to me last night; he said he had been thinking about me just the night before he died and was sorry for being so stubborn…Are you listening to me, Catherine?’
‘Yes, Aunt Katie. Yes.’
‘I’m not wandering, Catherine, I’m wide awake.’
‘Yes, yes, I know you are, Aunt Katie.’
‘And I wasn’t wandering last night when Joe was talking to me. I wasn’t asleep either; he was as plain as plain, standing there where you are now. He said we always leave things too late, ’cos he was killed in that raid. You remember, Catherine?’
‘Yes, yes. I remember, Aunt Katie, when the bomb from the Zeppelin hit Palmer’s.’
‘But it didn’t only hit Palmer’s, it hit that row of houses. He had worked hard to buy that house, Catherine.’
‘Yes, yes, I know, Aunt Katie.’
‘It’s a nice day outside; the sun is shining.’
‘Yes, and it’s very warm for October.’
‘I’m a hundred, Catherine.’
‘Oh, you’re a hundred and a bit, Aunt Katie. You’ve got to look forward to being a hundred and one.’
‘Catherine!’
‘Yes, Aunt Katie.’
‘Don’t you think it odd that I never see Andy?’
Catherine didn’t answer but went on dusting the room.
‘You know, I’ve seen all the others, talked with them all, right down as far back as I can remember, and yet isn’t it funny, Catherine, that Andy was the only one that ever mattered to me and I never see him? Andy never comes and talks to me.’
‘Well, I suppose you were so close, Aunt Katie. I should think it’s because he’s…he’s sort of inside you, he can’t get any closer.’
‘I’ve never thought of that, Catherine. It’s a nice thought. But still I’d like to see him. Andy was a wonderful man, Catherine.’
‘I know that. I know that, Aunt Katie. Now don’t talk any more, just rest.’
‘Oh, don’t say that, Catherine; I want to talk.’ The voice from the bed was several tones stronger and had a note of irritation in it. ‘I’ve always talked, Catherine. I was a great talker when I was young. Don’t stop me talking, Catherine.’
‘Oh no, Aunt Katie.’ Catherine was bending over the bed now, stroking Katie’s hair from her brow. ‘I wouldn’t stop you talking for the world, but I thought it might tire you.’
‘What do I do to get tired? Lie here all day, waited on hand and foot. The way you look after me I could live until I’m a hundred and ten.’
‘You could indeed, Aunt Katie, you could indeed.’
Katie was holding Catherine’s hand now. ‘When is Peter coming home, Catherine?’
‘Oh, Aunt Katie, we can’t tell that, but it shouldn’t be long. It’s nearly fourteen weeks now. It’s the longest he’s been away yet. He could come walking in at any minute, or we could get a phone call if he has docked some place else, but we’ve just got to wait patiently.’
‘Catherine.’
‘Yes, Aunt Katie.’
‘Does…does he ask why I don’t want to see him?’
Catherine bowed her head. ‘You mean Daniel?’
‘You know who I mean, Catherine.’
‘No. No, he doesn’t ask, Aunt Katie. He knows that you don’t want to be bothered.’
‘It’s funny him being in the house and me not seeing him, isn’t it, Catherine?’
‘But he so seldom comes here.’
‘But he was here yesterday.’
‘No, no, dear. He hasn’t been near the house for weeks. Five weeks, I should say.’
‘I thought I smelt his pipe yesterday.’
‘He doesn’t smoke a pipe, dear, he smokes cigarettes.’
‘He was here, I was sure, Catherine.’
‘You’re mistaken, dear.’
‘What’s going to happen to Bridget, Catherine?’
‘Now don’t you worry, dear; everything’s going to be all right.’
‘No, it isn’t, Catherine; not all right for Peter. I know. It doesn’t matter about me or you or Tom, it’s only Peter; and when he comes back there’ll be nothing for him. I can see it in Bridget’s face, she’s happy.’
Catherine turned from the bed now, saying under her breath, ‘Well, I thought that’s what you wanted for her, to be happy.’
‘Yes, yes, I do.’
‘Well then.’
Catherine now picked up a vase with some fading flowers in it and went out of the room, and as she crossed the hall to the kitchen Bridget came running down the stairs, Bridget the girl again. Dear, dear God! What was going to happen to her now with this new turn of events which she had foreseen right from the beginning?
Bridget stopped at the bottom of the stairs and said, ‘Mother, may I have a word with you?’
Catherine turned towards her, the vase held in both hands, and, looking over the flowers, she said, ‘When have you had to ask to have a word with me?’
Bridget lowered her eyes, then walked slowly forward and together they went into the kitchen, and there Bridget, standing near the table, brought her joined hands up into her neck as she said quietly, ‘I don’t know how you’re going to take this, but…but I’m going to have a baby.’
‘I know that.’
They stared at each other across the table.
‘How could you? I didn’t know myself until yesterday.’
‘Your face told me, child. It’s been full of hope for weeks now.’
‘Oh, Mother!’
‘It’s his, isn’t it?’
‘If you mean Daniel’s, yes.’
‘My God!’
Catherine turned from the table and Bridget said sharply, ‘Why need you be so shocked? I’ve been open with you right from the beginning. I only stayed here because you asked me to, for Aunt Katie’s sake, but once Peter comes back I’ll go. I’ve told you, Mother. I’ll have to go. We couldn’t live in the same house, could we? And he has no other home now.’
‘It isn’t fair to him, it isn’t fair.’ Catherine was facing Bridget.
‘Was he fair to me? Were any of you fair to me?’
‘We’ve been all through that. I thought it was ended.’
‘Yes, it’s ended. But when you talk of fairness to Peter I’m not just going to stand here and feel guilty. I don’t feel guilty, nor do I feel sorry for anything Daniel and I have done. What we’ve done now we should have done eight years ago.’
‘Have…have you imagined what it will be like when Peter comes in and you’ve got to tell him?’
‘Yes, yes, I’ve imagined that. Every day for the last three months and more I’ve imagined it
, but that’s not going to stop me from telling him.’ Again they were staring at each other, silent now, hostility rising between them.
‘What if anything happens to him…to Daniel, and you’re left with a child? Because what you seem to forget is that the war is still on. Your rosy dawn is only affecting you two. If anything happens to him, what’s going to happen to the child if you insist on being on your own?’
Bridget’s brows went up and her eyes stretched. ‘Good gracious, what do you take me for? I can always work, Mother. And listen. Whatever happens, I’m not going to let someone else take the responsibility. I was thinking about that yesterday. All that’s happening now goes back to the time when Aunt Katie relinquished the responsibility for her daughter, and you…’ Bridget checked the natural sequence to this; she could not face her mother and say, ‘And you in a way let someone else take the responsibility for me.’ But Catherine said it for her. Her voice bitter, she spoke under her breath, saying, ‘Go on, tell me I’m another Aunt Katie; that I married your father just to save my face. Well, it isn’t true, it isn’t true. I loved your father from when we were children.’
‘I’m not saying anything about my father and you,’ said Bridget softly. ‘I’m only answering your question, if anything should happen to Daniel what would I do? Well, there’s one thing I wouldn’t do. I wouldn’t let Peter shoulder the responsibility. The child will be mine and Daniel’s, no-one else’s—not by proxy or by any other way. Of that you can rest assured. He’ll be a Rosier, and, one way or another, he or she will be brought up a Rosier. There’s been enough hate and fear connected with that name, and it’s going to end. It’s only the fact that I still don’t want to hurt any of you more than I can help that the child won’t be brought up in the house that by rights will be his…But you never know, he may be yet; things can happen.’
Catherine stared long and hard at her daughter, and then she said, ‘Yes, things can happen. You’re born, lass, but you’re not buried yet; there’s a lot can happen in between.’
Katie Mulholland Page 57