He smiled at her. ‘Don’t let it worry you. We’ll have tomorrow, and all the tomorrows. Go on, get your coat on. Be quick.’
After he had helped her on with her coat he put his hands on her shoulders and said, ‘I should be worrying with you going out and the warning on, but I’m not; for, you know, I’ve got a feeling on me tonight that we’re going to live forever, you and I, and Daniel the Fourth.’ He dropped his hands to her stomach, and she put both of hers on top of his for a moment, then swiftly she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.
At the door she paused and, pointing towards the drawing room, said softly, ‘If she gets agitated and calls out, do you…do you think you could go in to her?’
‘Leave her to me,’ he said. ‘Go on now and get back quickly, quickly, for I can’t bear you out of my sight.’
He watched her running down the path; at the gate she turned and waved to him. He watched her until her figure was lost in the deep dusk between the trees, then he closed the door and walked towards the dining room again, and as he entered it he heard the thin voice coming once more from the drawing room, calling this time, ‘Bridget! Bridget!’
He put his head on one side and listened for a moment, considering; then slowly he limped across the hall and, after tapping on the door, he entered the room.
Katie was in the act of ringing the bell and she exclaimed, ‘Oh, Bridget, I’m so…’ Her thin voice trailed away and she peered through the subdued lighting of the room and said, ‘Who’s that?’
‘Just me, Great-Grandmother. Daniel.’
When he reached the bed her eyes were wide and unblinking, staring up at him.
‘How are you?’
When she didn’t answer he pulled a seat forward and eased himself down and, looking at her, he saw she was agitated. Her old face was quivering, the lips chewing on one another. He put out his hand and taking hers patted it gently, saying, ‘Don’t worry. It will all be over soon. The all-clear will go any minute now.’
Katie made a movement with her head, and then spoke his name softly. ‘Daniel,’ she said.
‘Yes, Great-Grandmother?’ He waited until her munching lips became steadier, patting her hand the while; then she asked in a whisper, ‘Where’s Bridget, Daniel?’
‘She’s…she’s had to go out for a moment.’
‘Where to?’
‘Catherine wanted her. She called her from the post.’
‘Something’s happened to Catherine?’
‘No, nothing has happened to Catherine. She called her from the post.’
‘Tom?’
‘No, nothing has happened to Tom either. They’re all all right.’
‘Why did Bridget have to go?’
He again patted the hand in his, saying, ‘I think Catherine had some things to carry back and they were too heavy for her.’
The explanation seemed to satisfy her, and she sank farther into the pillows and lay quiet for a moment. Then, without looking at him, she said again, ‘Daniel.’ And again he said, ‘Yes, Great-Grandmother?’
‘I’m a wicked woman, Daniel.’
‘You wicked, Great-Grandmother! What makes you think that?’
‘I’m a wicked woman, Daniel. You know why I’m a wicked woman, Daniel?’
‘Don’t talk any more.’
‘I’ve got to talk, Daniel. Bridget has turned against me, Daniel.’
‘Nonsense. Nonsense.’ He shook his head.
‘She has, because I sent you away. It was me who sent you away. It was me, Daniel.’
He made no reply to this, and she was quiet for a moment. And then she said, ‘I missed you, Daniel.’
‘Did you, Great-Grandmother?’
‘Yes, very much. I didn’t tell Catherine that because of what I’d done to Bridget, you see, but I did miss you. I…I wanted to see you again—even…even if you were like him I wanted to see you again.’
There came a dull crunching sound from the distance, and her thin jerky voice stopped and she gripped at his hand before saying, ‘They’re dropping.’
‘No, that was just an anti-aircraft gun. Don’t worry.’
‘It was a bomb.’
‘No. No.’
‘I’m…I’m always afraid when they’re out they’ll get killed.’
‘Don’t worry. Don’t worry.’ He glanced at his watch. She should be nearly there now. Ten minutes, she had said. Hurry, Bridget, my love. Hurry, Hurry.
‘You love Bridget, Daniel?’
He looked down into the eyes that were looking up into his now, and he said from deep in his throat, ‘Very much, Great-Grandmother. Very much.’
‘You’re going to take her away, aren’t you, Daniel?’
‘Yes. Yes. I’m going to take her away, but not far. After the war we’re going to live in the house.’
The hand trembled in his and she whispered, ‘The house?’
‘Yes. Look.’ He put his hand into his inside pocket and drew out the long envelope. ‘I gave this to Bridget tonight. It’s the deeds of the Manor. I’ve made a gift of it to her.’
Katie’s body made a movement in the bed. Her elbow dug into the mattress and she tried to raise herself. Her head flopping back, her mouth open, she remained like this for a while. There was a light on her face, a brightness in her eyes. Her chin moved up and down before she said, in a voice that seemed to hold a touch of laughter, ‘Andy bought me a house; it was in an envelope like that. Mr Kenny gave it to me, and when I opened it I had a house…three houses. Andy did that for me.’
‘Isn’t that strange, Great-Grandmother. Isn’t that strange, now.’ He was smiling broadly at her. ‘Your Andy bought you a house and I’ve bought my Bridget one. Don’t you think that augurs well for the future? When did your Andy buy you the house, Great-Gran?’
‘What?’ Her attention had gone from him, and she brought it back to him, saying, ‘What did you say, Daniel? What did you say?’
‘When did your Andy buy you a house?’
‘Oh, a long, long time ago. I was very young, just turned twenty or so. But that would be…’ Her eyes screwed up in an effort to remember the year, and he, doing some quick arithmetic, said, ‘It must have been 1865 or ’66.’
‘Yes, Daniel. You’re right. That’s it, 1866.’ Her voice quivered. ‘My Andy was a wonderful man, Daniel.’
‘I’m sure he was, Great-Grandmother.’
‘You know, I was saying to Catherine that I never see Andy. I’ve seen all the others, they’ve all been here, but not Andy. Isn’t that funny, Daniel?’
‘You’ll see him one of these days, Great…’ His voice was cut off by another crunch—this time one that shuddered the house; and when it had passed he was on his feet holding both Katie’s hands, saying, ‘There now. There now. Don’t worry; it’s over.’
When her grip loosened on his hands and she lay back she smiled weakly, saying, ‘I get frightened, Daniel. It’s silly, but I get frightened. But you know, Daniel, I feel I will know when I’m going to die because at the last minute I’ll see Andy. I know he’ll come for me then.’
‘Well, you’re not going to see him tonight, dear.’
‘I’ve wondered, Daniel, how I’ll tell Andy about you, and you a Rosier, because he knew that a Rosier had been an enemy to me all my life. Do you think he’ll understand me being able to love a Rosier, Daniel?’
‘Yes, Great-Grandmother.’ His voice was soft and deep. ‘I think he’ll understand all right.’
He took his hands from hers and was about to assist himself into the chair again when the earth erupted beneath his feet and the heavens split open above his head. As her arms came out to him he flung himself into them, and over her, and together they went down, and Katie died in the arms of a Rosier.
It was dawn the following morning when, after carefully moving the wreckage brick by brick and timber by timber, they exposed the top rail of the bed. Across it, in a crazy pattern, lay beams, splintered floorboards, and part of a window frame. The chief w
arden, after holding up his hand for silence, listened, then called sharply and waited, after which he nodded and the group of men started once more to hand pieces of debris one to the other.
On the outskirts of the rubble Catherine stood holding on to Bridget, and her voice sounded raw and cracked as she said, ‘Stay where you are, they’ve told you; you’ll do more harm than good.’
Tom, stumbling over the rubble, came towards them; covered from head to foot in dust and dirt, he was almost as unrecognisable as they were. It was at Bridget he looked and to her he spoke. ‘Go to the rest centre, lass…please,’ he said. ‘I’ll come for you the minute they get through.’
For answer Bridget shook her head slowly, and Tom exchanged a look with Catherine, then asked softly, ‘You all right?’
Catherine nodded. All right, he’d asked. She’d never be all right in her life again, not after this night; and what it would do to her Bridget, God only knew.
There came an exchange of excited voices from the man-made crater that had once been the cellar of the house, and Bridget, with a twist of her body, broke Catherine’s hold and in a second she was scrambling over the rubble.
Tom caught hold of her as they reached the rim of the hole and his eyes followed hers to where, under a trelliswork of two beams and a layer of grey laths, was the back of a man’s head and shoulders.
‘Daniel. Daniel.’
‘Steady, lass, steady. Listen a minute.’
‘Can you get through, Fred?’ The man’s voice was soft as if he were afraid to shout.
‘Aye.’ The answer came just as softly.
‘Steady now. That one looks as if it’s just hanging by a thread.’
‘Daniel. Daniel.’
Some of the men glanced upwards.
‘What d’ya think, Fred? Can the Doc get down? Any use him trying?’
‘Shut up a minute, will you.’ The voice came from the hole, and the command was followed by silence. Then the voice again. ‘Can’t tell one way or t’other. Both legs pinned. Drop that rope an’ I’ll try a sling on this beam…’
Daniel. Daniel.
She cried soundlessly now. The world was opening beneath her feet. Daniel, oh Daniel, don’t be dead unless you take me with you. The ground was heaving; it lifted her up and threw her down into the hole, and she cried to the head covered with grey plaster, ‘It’s me, Daniel. It’s Bridget. Wake up, darling. Wake up…’
‘Come on, dear. Wake up, wake up. Come on now, drink this. You’re all right. Listen. Do you hear me, Bridget—he’s alive. Daniel’s alive.’
‘Daniel?’ She blinked up into Tom’s face.
‘Yes, dear.’
‘Alive?’
‘Yes, dear. His leg’s crushed, but I think it’s his bad one, and…and one arm.’
Daniel alive. He was alive.
‘There now. There now. Steady. They’ll have them up in a minute.’
Them! She had clean forgotten about Aunt Katie. ‘Is…is she dead?’
‘Yes. Yes,’ said Tom softly. ‘It’s to be expected.’
At the sound of a broken sob Bridget turned her head and looked at Catherine sitting on the rubble by her side and she caught at her hand and held it for a moment.
As Tom assisted Bridget to her feet they brought Daniel over the rim of the hole and laid him on a stretcher. When she reached it she called out his name once more and his heavy, grey-powdered eyelids fluttered, then lifted, and there was clear recognition in his eyes as he muttered thickly, ‘Told you. Told you. Live for ever, Bridget.’
When the ambulance door closed on the stretcher and Bridget, Catherine turned her weary gaze to the crumpled figure they were now lifting out of the hole, and she cried to herself that it wasn’t right. It wasn’t right that Aunt Katie should die like this. There was no dignity in this kind of death. And she had always been dignified, had Aunt Katie. She made her way to her and knelt down by her side and looked at her face. It hadn’t a mark on it. It did not look dead and it did not look old. A powdering of dust that resembled a thick face powder lay on it. It looked at peace; in fact it had the look that it had worn when it was going to burst out into laughter.
A voice coming from somewhere above Catherine said, ‘Well, that’s the end of the old girl. A legend she was in her day, Katie Mulholland.’
The End
Katie Mulholland Page 59